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runa-falls · 11 months

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scratches and bites - 2

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Reader

Warnings: Could be a little off-canon for some characters, lots of plot, slight angst, Miguel is an helicopter mom, reader just wants some friends :(

a/n: ok. i didn't realize how much i wanted to put into this chapter so spicy stuff is coming NEXT chapter. promith. i've already written some of it. anyway, i'm glad y'all are enjoying my O'Hara content. I hope this lives up to your expectations lmfao

Summary: Miguel O'Hara is a grumpy man and you make him grumpy. You regularly go against his orders, create chaos, and invite danger. This is what you've been doing since he swept you away.

w/c: 2.2k

series masterlist | main masterlist

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So being “Spider-Woman” turned out to be harder than you thought. It’s not all swinging from and shooting webs like you imagined. Apparently, there’s a spider-specific physical regimen you’re required to keep up with. Every day.

You’re almost convinced that you’re being hazed into the spider-verse community because you are yet to see anyone else doing upside-down web squats on a 100-story building. Not to mention the life-threatening training simulations you were thrown into as soon as you arrived in Nueva York.

“They can’t hurt you, Kid. They’re holograms.”

“Yeah, that’s what they want you to think O’Hara, but my ass has been kicked enough to prove differently.”

“Alright, well they can’t kill you.”

Miguel has been “training” you for the last few months to become the best Spider-Woman you can be, pushing you harder than you’ve ever been pushed before. Though these days, this “training” is actually just him telling Parker to drill you in whatever he thinks will work.

O’Hara attempted to do it himself for like three days, and it turns out he’s too impatient to take in a spider apprentice or even be in a room where you do anything but exactly what he commands.

You should’ve expected it.

Sure, Miguel is a naturally grumpy man, but you swear he has it out for you. He literally tenses whenever you enter the room and makes sure to barely meet your eyes when he’s forced to talk to you.

Actually, ever since you were dropped in the middle of Spider-Central, O’Hara has been ignoring you. Treating you like the plague. Always making the excuse that he’s too busy with things that are far more important than anything you’d ever have to say. As if he wasn’t the one who forced you to come with him in the first place…

It’s not fair. He was literally all you had.

Months ago, he showed you a side of him, the one that convinced you that he actually brought you here for a reason, but now he can’t even look at you. Sure, you’re a particularly slow learner, and one that never really liked PE, but you deserve some slack. You left everything for him – for them.

Meeting people who’ve gone through similar circumstances as you was quite interesting, to say the least. And it doesn’t stop at people either. Spider cars, dinosaurs, and cats were just the beginning.

You’ve made a few friends. There’s Gwen, a 15 (or was it 16?) -year-old who mostly talks about her friend Miles, music, and…uh, Miles. It’s sweet how she gushes on about some guy without fully realizing how into him she is. Miles sounds great, really great, but you’ll probably never get to meet him because of the number of restrictions placed on your watch. Fucking O’Hara and his parental controls.

Gwen is cool, she plays the drums and can do a bunch of acrobatic things that you’d never even attempt, but she’s also almost a half-decade younger than you. There’s only so much you can talk about before you start getting homesick. Of course, despite her young age, she’s still given more responsibilities and missions than you. If Miguel has one hobby, it would be undermining everything you do.

“She’s been in the game longer than you have.” He always makes that excuse.

And you always counter it with: “But I’m older! I can do more than just scream for help!”

“This isn’t a discussion.” That honestly might be his favorite phrase to shut you up these days. “You’ll be called on when you’re ready, Kid.” And that.

“I am ready. And stop calling me that. I’m not a kid, I’m 20 years old!”

“Yeah, whatever.”

There’s also Peter Parker, your reluctant coach. He’s…something else. Sure, he’s your friend, but he’s more like a substitute teacher and crazy uncle type of guy. Usually, he listens to everything Miguel says, acting like a glorified babysitter, but sometimes, he’s up to bend the rules on some things.

Once he let you visit his dimension, claiming you’d need some real-life experience as a “friendly-neighborhood spider-woman”. You spent that day chasing down petty robbers and helping old ladies cross the road. Sure, it was a small field trip, but that was only the third dimension you’d traveled to at the time.

Parker is also always trying to get you to hold his daughter whenever she comes to work claiming that “it’ll be good for your mental health, trust me.” Of course, for Parker, every day is “bring-your-kid-to-train-the-new-spider-woman-day”. And really, you don’t mind holding her, but not when you’re in the middle of sparing 5 of Doc Ocks tentacles.

The baby is adorable, but you do worry about how she crawls up the walls. Parker doesn’t seem fazed. Actually, neither does O’Hara.

Sometimes you wonder if O’Hara wants kids one day. He certainly handles Mayday like a pro, letting her crawl over his shoulders and paperwork. Would he possibl– No, actually, it doesn’t matter. It shouldn’t matter, because he left you. He’s not – couldn’t even be an option. – Anyway…

Parker and Mayday are nice company and the only real constants in your life, but you really just want to be a consistent part of the team. You don’t know how much longer you can spend your days doing swinging drills and spider crunches (don’t even ask). But Parker has actually been your rock these past months, to give him credit. He’s one of the few people that makes you feel like you belonged in this distorted array of spiders and dimensions.

Then there’s Hobie.

The first time you met him you probably had literal stars in your eyes. Donned with a spiked vest and several facial piercings, he caught your attention right away. He catches everyone’s attention. Even his suit is cooler than everyone else’s with a spiked mohawk that surely gets in the way.

Unfortunately, just as you were hoping to take on the Brit as your mentor for all things spider, he was decidedly off-limits, courtesy of O’Hara. Apparently, his rebellious nature and brash energy make him a “bad influence”.

“Seriously? You should be glad that I’m taking a bigger interest in my training.” You have your hands posted up on your hips, trying to make yourself look bigger than you actually are. Damn, O’Hara and his domineering presence!

He rolls his eyes openly, genuinely already done with the conversation. “Yeah…your ‘training,’ sure.”

“What is that supposed to mean!” You practically whine it out.

“Don’t get distracted gatita, just do as you’re told.”

“Ok, what does that mean? I don’t speak Italian.”

“That was Spanish dumbass.”

Of course, that doesn’t stop you from hanging out with him anyway (though he’s not around as much anymore). Who knew making friends as Spider-Person would be so hard. You’d think you’d have a lot in common with everyone around you, but really, you’re all alone. Sometimes you think the spiders actually resent you deep down because you’re the only one that has never lost anything. Or had anything to lose in the first place.

For now, you’re just moving through a sea of spiders, trying to catch a glimpse of what you’re supposed to be doing here. Trying to figure out why you were chosen over the infinite other versions of you in the multiverse.

—

So far you’ve been on 2 and a half missions. The half was when you were forcibly sent home and effectively grounded for a week. Apparently, talking to civilians while standing guard is prohibited, even when they’re selling dip’n’dots. What? It was a long ass mission. And it was hot!

This one is your official third mission. It’s quite simple, in theory. Just travel to Earth-275A, infiltrate a tech lab, pick up some – worryingly volatile – equipment, and go home. Easy.

Except, it didn’t exactly go that way.

It’s just you, Miguel, Gwen, and Jess on this mission. You and Jess were placed on lookout duty (you on the roof and Jess on the ground with her bike), while Miguel and Gwen broke in and out of the building. It was all running smoothly, each spider occasionally muttering quietly through the radio whenever their positionings changed. Otherwise, it was silent. And frankly, a bit boring.

You idly kicked around some pebbles that somehow found their way onto the roof of this tall ass building, sometimes smacking them against the half wall separating you from falling a thousand feet downwards. You were actually dying to get back to HQ because you briefly spotted Hobie talking to Parker and Mayday before you had to go. He’s been quite absent lately, and you want to show off some of the new moves you learned this week.

Then, there was suddenly action.

A huge explosion surges out the right side of the building that O’Hara and Stacy were infiltrating. That mission plan was not kidding when they described the ‘volatility’ of the shit inside of those supply crates. Deep creaking and smashing objects follow the blast. You watch as the tallest building in the city starts to tilt. Shit, the explosion must’ve taken out some of the support beams.

You hear Miguel yelling your name through your earpiece, as well as heavy breathing and crumbling concrete in the background.

“Y-yes? Copy–”

“You and Gwen collect the crate and get out of here. I already called for a portal. Jess and I will get surrounding civilians away from danger.”

“Understood, sir.” You don’t usually call him anything like ‘sir’, but the stakes are high and complete compliance is needed at this moment.

“Crate is located on the top floor, Stacy is already there waiting for my word.” You briefly shake yourself out, mentally preparing yourself to scale the larger building in front of you.

With a quick fwp, you attach your web to the nearly as tall building next to your target to give yourself some leverage. You jump without even giving yourself time to think about it, tugging slightly at the web, making sure to collect as much kinetic energy as possible. You release the web when you get to the highest point and spit out another web to get you to the top floor of the building. Luckily the blast took out the windows so you could easily enter the floor.

There, Gwen stands next to a crate with several scientists and guards nicely pasted onto the walls with perfectly placed webs on each limb and over their abdomens.

“Took you long enough.”

“It’s been 30 seconds!”

“Relax, I’m teasing.” She shoots out a couple of webs and connects them to the crate. “Here, help me out with this.” You follow her movements, pulling at your webs slightly to get a good evaluation of its weight. Surprisingly, it moves quite easily, almost three inches from your soft tug.

“Why’re we both doing this when it weighs 100 lbs. We have super strength.”

“I dunno, Miguel just gave us the orders. There’s probably a reason. It doesn’t really matter.” You frown realizing you could’ve been down there helping O’Hara save actual lives but instead, you were ordered to assist a teenager on a one-person job. “The portal is opening in a few seconds on the roof of the building behind us.” Gwen doesn’t seem phased. “We can just swing it with us.”

“Isn’t this shit going to blow up if we move it too harshly?”

“Not when it’s in this protective crate.” She steps closer to the broken window, mentally measuring and planning out the escape route. “That explosion earlier was from an open container.” You hum, still torn over leaving Gwen to do the delivery so you can help people get out of the way faster. “You ready then?” She’s been watching you. Clearly, your thoughts are painted on your face.

You nod briefly, “Let’s go.” Together you take each side of the crate and use your other arms to swing yourselves over to the portal that magically appears. This time, that odd purring sound of the portal is completely blocked out by the chaos going on around you. Somehow the building has still only tilted a little bit since the explosion.

As Gwen pushes the crate into the gateway, you look down at the streets, watching as Miguel and Jess work impeccably together as they save hundreds of civilians from falling debris and the inevitable demolition of the building.

Then you look back a Gwen, who’s ready to head home. Then you look down at them again.

Then your eye catches on a red sedan sheltering a terrified family that sits under the chaos.

Gwen catches your eye. “Don’t.”

“I have to.”

“Migu–”

“Would do the same.”

“--Will mur-der me.” You sigh, but quickly shoot a couple of webs downwards without looking. Gwen has her arms folded, sharing that unamused expression that Jess loves to sport. Her feet are now temporarily stuck to the floor. You’re sure she could get out of it in a second, but you can tell, she’s not going to stop you. “Don’t die.”

Right before jumping off the ledge, you send her a cheesy smirk, “Me? Never.”

----

Taglist: @deputy-videogamer @danaeaurelia @reuxxi

#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara #spider-man

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justanamesstuff · 5 months

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Chapter 2

Seasons

Matty Healy x f!reader

A/N: I'm really enjoying this process with this fic...I've written it a few years ago so it means a lot to me acknowledging how much i grew since then in a lot of senses. Anyyyway, I hope you like it! Please let me know whatever you think about it (always with respect please and thank uu) ♥♥

Warnings: just fluff and a bit of mixed feelings, typos.

Word count: 2.8 K

Masterlist Taglist

< chapter 1

1 month later, Ireland

The alarm went off startling Y/n out of her dreams.

The girl groaned, closing her eyes tight before reopening them. Her sight settled on the ceiling of her temporal bedroom. Y/n’s mind was foggy with sleep and heavy thoughts.

At the same time she went through the schedule for the day, Y/n rubbed the middle of her chest feeling a subtle and yet intense feeling. She felt like she was going against the flow of everything. Like her destination was east, although everyone was taking the opposite way. Y/n asked herself multiple times during that past month if she was doing the right thing.

The contradiction was born out of a mix of feelings. Y/n had very deep and dark feelings on her heart, but on the other hand Ireland was making her happy, the time away from Matty and the guys was helping more than she expected it.

Y/n hadn’t spoken with the boys since she left the studio/house. During the first days, she continued talking with George. But all conversations died quickly since she was getting ready to leave, and he was busy producing and recording the new album.

Y/n adored her work as a PA for actors around all type of sets. For the new job she was meant to help Lily, who was a sweet soul and luckily around the same age as he, so they got along rather fast once they landed on Ireland.

The girl rubbed her face trying to get rid of the heavy feeling. Running around the set drowned her energy completely, physically and mentally speaking. At night, Y/n ate fighting with the fatigue overpowering her body. Even though her work drained her she loved it, she wouldn’t change it for anything else and for the time being it was a life saviour as well. Y/n was deeply exhausted but profoundly grateful for everything.

Only one thing shadowed her happiness: her dreams with Matty. He was constantly there, reminding Y/n he still existed no matter how hard she tried to avoid the man. Maybe that was why she started to work harder and harder trying to fell every night into even deeper REM states in which Matty couldn’t reach her.

‘I’ll get through this’, Y/n repeated as a mantra getting up from her bed.

…………………………………………………………………………………………….

On set, Ireland

Y/n was going through Lily’s schedule on her phone making sure everything was right and on time. The girl was a good worker but the main reason that day circled around the fact that it was Friday, and she had a plane to take, Y/n wanted to be out of set on time.

She was texting the assistant to the director when the actress spoke for the first time in half hour taking the PA out of her work rush.

“So, what are you doing for Christmas break?” Lily asked Y/n who didn’t take her eyes off the screen.

“I’m going home. Why?” Y/n expressed, still not making eye contact.

“Like…home home? Or just home?” Lily insisted, finally making her friend look up.

She told Lily a resume of her life, not a detailed one though. “Home home doesn’t feel like home any more and I much prefer to spend the holidays with the guys than with Uncle Dan and his family to be honest.” Y/n answered. “I’m going to Manchester.”

“Oh, right. He is- “

“No, he’s in LA from what I’ve heard.” Y/n explained rapidly. Yes, she told Lily a little about Matty.

“Amazing.”

“Why you ask?”

“Because the whole cast is planning on going out during the weekend but…anyway, you’re leaving us.” Lily pulling a sad face.

“I’m not part of the cast..so you’re not going to miss me.” Y/n joked back.

“Oh, shut up! You’re part of the gang!” Lily protested. “Well, yeah, we’re planning on getting super drunk, and you know who asked if you were coming…” Y/n instantly blushed.

“You’re bluffing You’re lying” she moved uncomfortably in her seat.

“‘m not” Lily smile widened. “You can ask Lee- “ who was another of the actors. “He was there too. We were running some lines before a scene, and your boy- “

“He’s not my boy.” y/n whined.

“Yeah, sure!” Lily scuffed. “As I was saying, we were discussing the plans and Tom asked about you.”

“Did he really?” Y/n looked at her friend, really willing to know.

“Oh yes, he was very interested.”

“Maybe he wanted to know because if I go he’ll skip it.” Y/n thought out loud.

Lily looked at her in disbelieve. “Shut up, the boy is whipped for you!”

“Shhh!” Y/n took a quick glance at the door and out of the small window of the trailer. “Someone could hear you… and besides that’s not true.” Y/n shushed her.

“You’re impossible, you know right?”

“I know.” Lily’s friend smiled proudly.

“No, but really…do you know he fancies you? Yes?” Lily seriously asked.

“Do you know he treats me as a friend?” Y/n fought back.

“Y/n!”

“Lily!”

“Would you stop being so negative for a minute, please?”

“Mmmm, let me think about that” Y/n faked doing so. “No, but seriously, he’s a friend!” she looked down because Y/n could feel her entire face just turned red as her blood pressure picked up a little, and she didn’t want Lily to notice that.

“Oh, yeah, I totally believe you! The guy always finds a way to be around you and… please I don’t mean to underestimate your work, love…but he doesn’t have to be around you on set and yet…” Lily reasoned with Y/n.

“Okay, he likes to hang out with me.” Y/n partially admitted. “I can agree with that. Although…that doesn’t mean he fancies me.”

“Yes, but he only does that with you, Y/n/n.” Lily grinned. “Not even with me, we’re the main characters! We’re around each other the entire day almost.”

“But you hang out more with Fionn and Lola. Maybe that’s why.” Y/n said while she fidgeted with her fingers.

“Maybe, still- “

“See? Your conspiracy theory is all wrong.” Y/n tried to end the conversation. She stood up searching for the tea bags.

“It’s not. You’re choosing to avoid the truth!” Lily exposed Y/n hitting a nerve.

Y/n knew she tended to avoid dealing with her feelings. Specially the ones about love and romantic relationships. One thing was acknowledged it for herself although another galaxy was to admit them out loud at the same time she was –kinda– pushed to put herself again out there and give her heart to someone else. A little dramatic? Maybe. Even though, Y/n knew more than anyone the fact that it was a lot to handle.

Tom was a very nice guy, who came into her life and gave her a friendship so sweet and easy. He didn’t ask too much of her, he didn’t hurt her fragile heart since the first day they met. The contrast with Matty was massive. Wrong too. Y/n knew she shouldn’t compare them, but her heart couldn’t help herself.

Y/n was sure of what she told Lily. Tom was charming with everyone, he was a kind soul. Possibly one or two times he gave her reasons to think otherwise, but Y/n was afraid so she denied everything.

“Earth to Y/n!” Lily snapped her out of her head and internal dialogue. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m sorry. I’m not choosing anything. Didn’t he have a girlfriend?” Y/n asked Lily.

“It wasn’t that formal…I don’t really know what happened but I think she left him or he- I don’t know, not important.” Lily moved her hands in the air.

“Like a month ago they appeared in the tabloids- “

“Oh, oh, someone was paying attention, ha?” Lily mocked her.

“Shut up, I wasn’t- I just- I stumbled upon it on the internet.” quickly Y/n tried explaining.

“Oh, yeah, I totally believe you!” Lily rolled her eyes gaining a weird expression from Y/n which in consequence made her friend laugh hard. Both of them started laughing uncontrollably.

The laughs were very loud, even the people walking by the trailers could hear them. In fact, the boy standing at the door smiled watching them, just before he interrupted.

“What is so funny?” Tom grinned wide.

“Talking about the devil.” Lily muttered low and quickly, so only Y/n could hear it.

“Hi, Tom.” Y/n greeted him avoiding Lily’s comment.

“Yeah, hi, Tommy.”

“What were you doing?”

“I was running lines and Y/n working, nothing fun.” Lily told him.

“Oh, good good.” he replied, leaning on the door frame.

Lily took a look at Tom and then Y/n, quickly making a decision. She took her phone, and said, “Well, I’ll leave you guys. Fionn wants to run lines together for the next scene.” Y/n arched an eyebrow knowing she didn’t have a scene with Fionn and very well knowing what Lily was planning.

“Okay…” Y/n said suspicious. “Remember to stay inside the big building at 17 pm, okay?” Y/n remind her.

“Yeah, yeah.” Lily dismissed her.

“And keep your phone close!”

“Yes, mom!” Lily joked making her way out.

Once Y/n’s friend was out of view, she urged Tom to get inside the warm trailer.

“Do you have more scenes today?” Y/n asked him, as Tom took Lily’s seat.

“Luckily, no, I just finished.” he shared.

“So, what are you doing here? If I were you, I would be in bed or something.”

“Yeah, good idea. I- I just…” Tom’s face turned a bit red, while he moved uncomfortable on his place. “I wanted to see you before you left.” Y/n’s heart melt a little. Tom kept gifting her those cute comments, and no matter the state of her heart he managed to make her a mess every time.

“I’m only leaving for a couple of days.” Y/n played with the strings of her hoodie. She didn’t really know what to say.

“Yeah, I know, I know…but we’ll miss you.” he said looking down.

Y/n tried to slightly change the subject, “Lily told me the whole gang is planning on going out this weekend.”

“Yes, it’s going to be boring without you.” Tom stated without skipping a beat. Y/n laughed a little.

“Oh, yeah! I’m the soul of the party! Sorry to leave you guys.” Y/n joked.

“Excuse me?! We are. Do you remember the last party?” Tom inquired. Part of the tension surrounding the pair broke, making them feel more comfortable with each other.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t remember any party. We never ever stayed up all night sitting at a table, talking about books and movies like two proper geeks and end up falling asleep in the same place.” Y/n said with a big smile adoring her face, making Tom laugh.

“Good thing you don’t remember, because I do!”

Y/n chuckled, “It was a good night though.”

“Yeah, I really enjoy it. The nap was fantastic.”

“Yeah, totally.”

“So, y/n- “ he started to ask.

“Yes, Tommy?”

“Why do you always manage to make that horrible nickname rarely cute?”

“It’s my hidden superpower.”

Tom rolled his eyes. “Anyway, I was wondering if maybe- “

“Aja..“

“I was wondering if… when you returned…you wanted to go on a date with me.” Tom’s proposal threw her back a little. Tom did notice her hesitation so he added, “only if you want- it’s totally fine if you don’t-“

Y/n cut him, “Tom!”

“Yeah?” he looked directly into her eyes.

Those gorgeous blue eyes drowned her and without thinking too much, y/n answered, “I would love to go out with you.”

“Really?”

“Do you have second thoughts?” She lifted her eyebrow, emphasising her question.

“No, no. I just- Never mind. Then, awesome! We can choose where and when next time you’re here, yeah?” Tom said, visibly smiling.

“Awesome.” she returned the happy feeling, keeping her head empty of doubts and thoughts. Y/n, for once, was feeling excited and happy.

After that they continued talking about everything and nothing for a couple of minutes, then duty called. Y/n had to make sure Lily shot her lasts scenes for the day and Tom had nothing more to do there if Y/n was busy. They said goodbye with a short but cute hug, making her feel a couple of things.

Until the end of her shift, Y/n’s head was occupied with happiness and work. She needed to finish the day and catch the plane home.

…………………………………………………………………………………

Returning home to Manchester, England

After finishing with everything on set, Y/n went to the Airbnb she was sharing with Lily. Y/n picked a couple of her belongings, she didn’t want to pack too many things for only a week in Manchester, just the necessary.

The flight was good, she already had messaged George all the details about what time the plane was meant to take off and land. G promised to pick her up from the airport and drive her home.

Y/n could feel the stress from the day, from the month as well. Even though she was happy and all, Y/n worked her butt off. That’s why minutes after the plane took off, she fell asleep. She woke up with the flight attendant letting her know that they had arrived.

A couple of minutes after the bureaucracy and all, Y/n managed to find George. They greeted each other with a big hug. They didn’t have seen each other since she left the house during the last bit of quarantine.

“You’re back, you’re back!” George rounded her, lifting her body slightly up the floor. He couldn’t contain his excitement.

“Someone missed me, ha?” Y/n said out of breath.

“Of course! I thought I was never going to see you again!” George let her feet touch the floor, resting his cheek on the top of Y/n’s head.

“You’re such a div.” Y/n accused him, laughing.

Y/n pushed a bit back, looking up at G.

“You just realized that?” he huffed, as they started to walk to the car. Y/n couldn’t avoid thinking of the last time she was at the same doors, but with someone else. She quickly stopped her head and returned her attention to her friend.

George ranted about a new track he had been working on with the boys, the mess he found when he returned to the house, etc. Y/n stayed in silence, loving the moment with her best friend. Listening was nice for her, his voice never failed to calm her head in a very strange way.

Y/n realized driving around that George was taking the road to the boy’s house. So she interrupted his talking, “ G, I’m not staying at your house tonight.”

“But, M-“ he started to say.

The drummer’s friend interrupted again, “I know, I just need to go home tonight. I need my own bed, ya?”

G thought for a second after accepting, “Fine!” He totally understood what she meant. “Fine! But..promised me the first thing you would do tomorrow is going to the house, okay?” Y/n’s chest got warm noticing G referenced the house as her own too.

“Yeah, dad.”

“Good girl!” George petted Y/n’s head jokingly, making her laugh. He was happy to see her smile more again.

The blond boy left her not without making her promise again. She already thought about going there before he told her, but anyway she repeated the promise.

………………………………………………………..

After a hug and a sweet goodbye beside another promise of visiting the boys the next morning, Y/n was so tired that the moment her head fell on her pillows she drifted again.

The next morning, Y/n moved around her flat content to be there and due to not remember any dream with Matty in a long time.

After a quick breakfast at 10 am, Y/n started the short trip to the boy’s house. On her way, Y/n texted George and the boy said he was out, but he would be home soon. It wasn’t a problem since Y/n had a key.

Y/n opened the front door at the same time someone started to walk down the stairs. She had her sight fixed on the bag of pastries she picked for the boy, but she could hear the steps.

Thinking the person was Ross, John or Adam –who was spending more time around since quarantine was over—, she said, “Who’s the sleeping beauty coming down?” finally looking up.

“Hi, Y/n.” a shirtless Matty greeted her. Y/n froze in place.

*******************

Taglist: @hollybrislen @sinarainbows @eaglestar31 @sugarkane1001

Chapter 3 >

#matty healy x reader #matty healy x you #matty healy x y/n #matty x y/n #matty x you #matty x reader #matty healy fic #matty healy fanfiction #george daniel #matty angst #matty fluff #friend to lovers #seasons #matty the 1975

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haikyuufanficwriting · 3 months

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Chapter 8: Ushijima

Prompt: Reader falls asleep on Character’s shoulder Character: Ushijima _________________

Since starting your third year at Shiratorizawa Academy, you can’t remember the last time you’ve gotten a proper amount of sleep.

Much less sleep in general.

Being in such a prestigious school, of course the workload would be bigger than any average high school. You just didn’t expect to be struggling this hard.

Back in middle school, you remember being levels above your peers. Maybe it was the hours your parents spent drilling you at home, or just natural talent, but you’re pretty confident that your reputation half brought you here.

But as you would learn, reputation and talent could only take you so far.

With your house being way too far to walk or bus, your parents allowed you to stay in one of the schools many dorms. While you were ecstatic about your new freedom, it did have some pitfalls.

Pitfalls being that your study habits were only enforced by your parents. So as any normal teenager would, you started to become lazy. And your grades began to slip.

Fortunately for you, there was rule where students had to obtain a certain average by the end of the year, or they would be kicked. That rule definitely blew some smoke up your ass, because during your first and second year, you did your absolute best to keep above that average. Which you did. Fairly well, too.

But entering your third and final year, you were just so tired. All of the motivation and strength seemed to vanish the harder your classes became. You couldn’t understand your subjects, which lead the unhealthy habit of pulling all nighters, trying to grasp the material on your own.

Eventually, your sleeping schedule had become so messed up that you were only powering on coffee and instant noodles just to get through the school day. And like a deadly cycle, certain classes and concepts were harder to comprehend the longer your brain was starved of sleep.

One example being. Advanced Functions.

For the life of you, you just couldn’t seem to understand anything in that class. No matter how hard you tried to concentrate, tried to focus, it was always in one ear out the other. The textbook seemed so convoluted that it only managed to confuse you further, so studying on your own was a no go.

Needless to say, you weren’t even close to passing this class, and final exams were coming soon. You absolutely needed to do well in this, or else you’d get a letter sent home to your parents, and you can’t even imagine what they’d do to you.

Thankfully, your teacher had the same thought. After class ended, he called you over to his desk.

“I’ve asked a student in this class if they’d be willing to tutor you. I haven’t told them anything about your grades, just that you need some help. They’re available to work with you on Tuesdays in the library. Will that be alright with you?” You manage to keep your face passive and devoid of any emotion. Honestly, you weren’t exactly keen to be tutored, but with your grades this low, you’re really don’t have any other choice other than to throw away your pride and bite the bullet.

“Yes, thank you Sensei, that would be perfect.” You bow and make your exit, having your respectful smile drop the second your face is out of view. You sigh heavily as you made your way to your dorm.

You just hope whoever’s tutoring you can help make sense of this nonsense.

Ushijima was a busy man. Key word was. After losing to Karasuno, the time he needed spend in the gym was significantly less than before. Of course, he went to the gym to practice regularly anyways, working on anything and everything to improve. But, after the coach found out, he told Ushijima to relax and take a break, claiming that he should take this time to rest and relax. Just for a couple weeks, and to take time focusing on his studies.

The only problem was, he didn’t need to focus on his studies. Or relax. He already had highest marks in most of his classes, and stress had never been an issue for him. While most ordinary students could study everything under two hours, he could. While most couldn’t function with five or less hours of sleep, he did. Ushijima had gotten so used to his hectic timetable, that having a huge chunk of it missing was extremely odd to him. Like he didn’t know what to do with himself.

“This is your time to find a hobby, Wakatoshi-kun.” Tendou had told him, to which he only tilted his head in confusion.

“But I do have a-”

“One that isn’t volleyball.” That made him pause. A hobby… That wasn’t volleyball?

Was there really anything?

If there was, he couldn’t think of one.

“How do I find a hobby?” He asks, causing Tendou to hum.

“You gotta try different things out. See if you like it or not.” Ushijima nods, absorbing the advice. It was good advice, but it did bring up an important question.

What’s one thing he could try?

That stuck with him, circling his head for the rest of the day. There seemed to be too many and none all at once. Even if he did find some that seemed interesting, which would he do first? Could he do multiple at once to become more efficient? What if he liked a new hobby but had to stop due to his schedule becoming normal again? If that’s a possibility, what was even the point of trying to find something new?

Ushijima was close to exploding with all the questions that he couldn’t answer and was about to call Tendou again for help, at least until his advanced functions teacher called him to his desk.

“Ushijima-kun, I need your help with something. There’s a student in this class, (Name), who needs a little help understanding the material. Since your season is over and you’re fairly good at the subject, do you think you could help her out?”

As if the gods heard his cries for help, an opportunity had dropped on his lap. But did tutoring count as a hobby? It seemed like a commitment too…

‘You gotta try different things out. See if you like it or not.’ Tendou’s words ring in Ushijima’s head. Well, if he had to try different things out, this seemed like a good start. With the thought being the final push, he agrees with a solemn nod.

“I don’t have a problem with it.”

You jerk awake from the bell ringing loudly in your ear. You confusedly look around to see students getting up and collecting their items around you, signaling in your brain that you must’ve fallen asleep in class again, and you slept through yet another lecture.

Guess I’ll be staying up late again…

You yawn, standing and picking up your bag before making your way out of the class, about to go the cafeteria, at least until you feel your phone vibrating in your pocket.

Was someone calling you?

Confused, you pull it out to hear a soft alarm and text across your screen in dark bold letters reading ‘Tutoring today at the library!’ causing your eyes to widen. You had completely forgotten about it! You let out a slur of curses as you rush up the stairs to the library, hoping that you didn’t make your tutor wait too long.

Practically slamming the library door open, you speed walk to the study area of the library, searching the students that littered the desks, seeing if you recognized anyone from your class. You stand there for a couple minutes longer than necessary, with your extremely heavy eyelids making it considerably difficult to scan peoples faces, but after not seeing anyone at first glance, you start to walk around the area. You don’t know how much time passes until someone calls out to you.

“(Name)-san.” The deep voice makes you jump far harder than it should’ve, with you almost dropping your school bag. You collect yourself as fast as you could and turn your head to the sound, finding none other than the star of the school.

Ushijima Wakatoshi.

Your brain blanks as you continue to stare at him, your mind too tired and too shocked to put together sentences. After a couple minutes of silence, he tilts his head, clearly waiting for your response. That manages to kick your brain into gear.

“Wakatoshi-san.” Your voice is meek, and your face flushes at how stupid you sound. If Ushijima sees your cringe, he doesn’t acknowledge it.

“I’m glad I found you. I thought for a moment you had forgotten about our session.” His comment confirms your suspicions, but it only manages to disorientate you further.

You just never would’ve assumed that the Ushiwaka, the ace and captain of this powerhouse school, was wasting his time tutoring you. You mean, you’re not entirely surprised he was picked to help, he was one of the smartest in your class, (You’re fairly certain he’s a robot, how could someone be so good at everything?) but you just thought he would be way too busy to help anyone.

You also thought with his personality he wouldn’t want to help anybody. Honestly, you’re just confused as to why he even agreed to help you at all. Maybe to put it on his resume?

You don’t know, you assumed that being a prodigy in sport was enough, but you digress.

“Come, I’ve already set up a table.” He motions you to follow him, and with a soft ‘alright’, you follow him to a more secluded part of the study area, with a single desk surrounded by bookshelves, each stocked to the brim with dusty old books. On the desk was you assume his study books and utensils neatly organised. Of course he was a neat freak.

You sit in the chair just across from his, feeling your body almost go limp in exhaustion the second you sit down. You wait until he settles himself and opens one of his books. Your brain once more begins to fail you as you stupidly watch him flip through pages, basically falling asleep with your eyes open. You don’t even realize until you hear a sharp knock on the table.

“(Name)-san?” The voice suddenly comes into focus and you snap up. “Y-yes?”

“Aren’t you going to pull out your books?” Ushijima asks, face stoic as ever. You stutter out a slightly slurred reply as you open your school bag and search for your books.

Only to not find your math books, but your biology books. You scrunch your nose in confusion. It takes your brain a couple of seconds to realize what you did.

You switched your books on accident.

Oh, how badly you want to curl up and cry right now.

Not only was it embarrassing to have one the most popular boys in school tutor you, but to also act like a total ditz was almost too much for you to take. It’s almost like the gods want to mess with you for shits and giggles at this point.

You have to slowly put your bag down, and look back to your tutor, who’s been staring at you for the past few minutes now.

“Wakatoshi-san, I just realized I brought the wrong books by accident. I’m sorry but I’ll have to go back to my dorms to get the right ones.” You give him what you hope is an apologetic smile and begin to stand up, until his voices rings in your ear once more.

“That’s not necessary.” You pause.

“Excuse me?”

“We’ve already wasted enough time as it is. I have no problem sharing my books for this session.” With that he pulls out the chair right next to him and offers the seat.

You’re pretty sure almost every girl would kill to be in your position right now. You can’t stop the blush that forms on your tired face.

“Oh-uh… ah, thank y-you.” You finally managed to get out, wanting to slap yourself subconsciously as you take the seat next to him. The second you sit down; your overworked brain is hit by so many things at once.

He smells nice. Like really nice. You definitely wouldn’t mind curling up to that. Not to mention, his warmth.

You can feel the warmth coming off him in waves.

Sleeping next to that would be so comforting…

You’re snapped out of your thoughts again when you hear a textbook being slid over to you. If you were a little more awake then you are now, you would realize how intimate this was. Sharing a book caused you to be a lot closer than necessary, but of course with you being sleep deprived and Ushijima being Ushijima, neither of you commented.

“So, what are you having troubles in?” He asked, and you go to answer, only to be met with emptiness.

You were so confused; you didn’t even know what you were confused about. You mentally kick yourself. That’s a new low.

Of course, not wanting the captain to know how much a dumbass you were, you responded, “The first couple chapters really messed with me.” Which isn’t a lie, you just didn’t mention the rest of the chapters that messed you up as well. He nods and goes to the beginning. Then begins to explain the main concepts of the chapters.

“A polynomial function has specific characteristics that define them from another other kind of function. With those characteristics being a domain of real numbers, a possibility of the range being restricted by both upper and lower bounds, and these functions do not have horizontal…”

You hear his words turn into nothing but mixed sounds as he continued to explain. As much as you tried to focus, you feel your eyelids becoming impossible heavy. You were trying, you really were, even pinching yourself ever once in a while and biting the inside of your mouth as hard as possible, but with Ushijima’s voice this low and soothing, you were fighting a losing battle. You didn’t expect that when he wasn’t scaring you out of sleep, that his voice was actually extremely nice to listen too.

Not to mention his unexpected but totally welcomed comforting aura, his warmth, his smell and the quiet atmosphere, they were all begging you to let go and leave the realm of the conscious. While you were too busy fighting the war, Ushijima was too focused on the book and pointing out examples that he didn’t even realize.

You only manage to last a couple more minutes, until you see nothing but long awaited black.

“…Then there’s quartic, quintic, so on and so forth. There are polynomials bigger than these, but the likely not to appear on the exam so we don’t have to cover them. Between these main five functions there are subdivision that we can also use to characterize them, for example-” Ushijima is cut off by a warm pressure falling on his arm. He turns confused to find you, positively knocked out and now using his arm as a pillow. His thought process is cut off.

Well this is… a development.

Ushijima figured you were tired. In fact, he had known for a long time, that you weren’t getting the sleep you needed. Just a quick glance in class, or talking to you, your slurred speech and heavy eyes, made it easy for anybody to figure out. However, he didn’t think it was to the point of passing out anywhere and everywhere.

He’d be impressed if he wasn’t inherently worried.

He been around people who were sleep deprived, previous senpais and enthusiastic kouhai’s who couldn’t get enough of volleyball, and it does terrible things to brain. Once it had been the point of someone ending up in the hospital.

Ushijima watched you with worried thoughts swirling his mind, as you had a look of absolute comfort on your face, even sleepily nuzzling your face into his arm, which caused him to stare at you a couple seconds above normalcy.

His slightly weird stare was cut off by the bell, which did put his thoughts back into gear. What was he supposed to do? Wake you? Call a teacher?

Well, one things for sure, he couldn’t just leave you here.

So, seeing this as the best course of action, he attempted to wake you.

“…(Name)-san…” He said gently, nudging you with the arm you were sleeping on, you made some sounds of discomfort, before rubbing you nose into his arm again and falling back to sleep.

It was almost cute. Almost.

“(Name)-san.” Ushijima says with a little more finality, which does cause you stir a little more, even causing you to open your eyes a little, but he could tell you were far from awake.

“She’ll be right with you.” You breathe out, which does make Ushijima lips quirk up the tiniest bit.

“(Name)-san, you have to wake up.” He’s reached his regular loudness now, hoping that he wouldn’t have to raise it higher to get you to wake. Thankfully, you manage to open your eyes fully, but is was safe to say that you weren’t completely conscious. You were almost like in a drunken state, with your pupils blown wide and the dazed expression you wore. Looking at you, Ushijima then decided what he needed to do. He couldn’t possibly let you go to class like this, not when you needed something so vital to the brain.

He grabs you by the shoulders to bring your head off him, making sure you don’t wobble too much. Once he’s sure you won’t bang your head on the table, he gets up and starts to collect your things.

“Hm? Is the session over?” You slur, eyes have lidded as you watch him pick up your bag.

“Yes.”

“Did I do well?” You ask with a tired smile, clearly not remembering what happened. Or what didn’t happen. For reasons even he didn’t know, Ushijima decides to humor you.

“Yes.” You raise your arms in the air in happiness, letting out an excited ‘yay!’ in a shushed voice, which Ushijima is extremely grateful for, as he didn’t want to cause a ruckus in the library.

He turns back to you. “Can you stand?” His question turns your mood for some reason, and you huff like a child. “’Course I can stand! Who d’you take me for?” And very quickly, as if to prove your point, you stand from your seat, only for your mind to spin and knees to wobble. Out of reflex to stop you from falling, Ushijima grabs your waist to steady you.

You two stand like that for a while, with your bodies a lot closer than they should’ve been. After what felt like an eternity, you break out into a goofy yet proud smile.

“See? Told ya I could stand.” Ushijima face is passive at best and remains silent. Only giving you a nod while he grabs his stuff along with yours as you two make it out of the library. He holds onto your waist to make sure you don’t fall when walking, but when he secures that you can walk, albeit a little slow, he still doesn’t let go. Walking through the halls and out to the dorms you both we’re met with a lot of stares. And whispers.

Not that either of you noticed.

After he’s exited the school and begins to walk to the girl’s dorms.

“What is your dorm number?” Ushijima asks, for you to snap out of whatever trance you were in.

“Uhhh… red… I think…” He looks at you, visibly confused.

“What?” You look at him back, clearly trying to think through the mess that was your brain.

“Wait… What did you ask me?” Ushijima has to keep in a sigh.

“Your dorm number.”

“Oh… That’s… Uhh… four…thirty-one.” You say.

“(Name)-san, there’s only two floors.” You two now stand in the front of the girls’ dorms, and since it was lunch hour, the likelihood that someone would be there, was considerably low, which did save Ushijima the explanation. You try to articulate a proper answer, but your brain this melted, Ushijima didn’t really have high hopes. So instead, he let go of you for a second, to read the names on the lists of the many mailboxes that littered the entrance hall. After a couple minutes, he found your name.

“208.” He says. Not even close. He watches the look of realization appear on your face.

“Ohhh, yeah that’s right!” He doesn’t hold back the sigh this time, grabbing your hand, and bringing you up to your dorm. Surprisingly, the dorm is unlocked, but you must’ve forgotten to lock it this morning when you left. He opens it and leads you in. You just follow in after him and just stare, clearly not knowing what to do.

Ushijima drops your things on your desk and takes you and sits you on your lower bunk bed.

“You should stay here and rest. You don’t have to worry about your next class, I’ll go and tell your teacher that you’re not feeling well.” He tells you, but like before, you just stare at him, telling him its just going in one ear and out the other. Out of the corner of his eye, he’s spots a random notepad and pencil. Ushijima turns away from you and takes the notepad and pencil.

“I’ll just write this down for you, so you can read it when you are in a correct state of mind. I hope you can learn to have a proper sleep schedule, it’s extremely vital to your health and not sleeping is actually- ” When he turns to you again to place the note, he finds you just as before. Knocked out on your bed, not even lifting your legs from the ground.

Ushijima watches you again for more than he cared to admit, before taking his stuff and leaving your room.

And to think he just wanted to try something new…

You slowly open your eyes, to find yourself on your bed and still in uniform. You sit up, confusion hitting you hard.

How did I get here? What day is it? What time is it? How long did I sleep for?

You started panicking a little, at least until you spot a piece of folded paper on your nightstand. Curious, you open it.

(Name)-san, you fell asleep during our session, and I didn’t feel it was acceptable to leave you, so I brought you back to your dorm. I told your teachers that you weren’t feeling well, so please feel free to relax and rest. I strongly recommend that you get a proper sleep schedule, as what you are doing is dangerous.

We’ll continue our tutoring next Tuesday, hopefully you should feel better by then.

Ushijima Wakatoshi

You might just have cardiac arrest.

#fanfic #haikyuu #writing prompt #ushijima x reader #haikyuu fluff #drabble #humour

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royalberryriku · 4 months

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Some Thoughts on the 'Writing Process'™

So I see a lot of writers struggle with these very specific things, AKA:

The Staring at the Blank Page Thing where you struggle to come up with ideas, words, etc

The Word Counting Counting where you cannot stop counting your word count

The 'Can Someone ELSE Proofread This Because I Don't Want to Read It' dilemma

The 'How Do I STOP Hating Everything I Write' issue which also leads into the 'How Do I Stop Scrapping Everything' issue

And finally the 'I DONT WANT TO WRITE I WANT TO IMAGINE IT INSTEAD' problem

There are various things that can make writing hard, but I have had some thoughts! And maybe they might just be useful.

So for Issue Number 1, I've found that, if you want to write, NEVER do it before you already have the ideas. Looking at a blank page just makes it harder. You get bored and that makes writing feel boring. Of course, this is all just my opinion, maybe this actually works for you. BUT! In my own personal experience, I find that actually LIMITING how often I open my document helps a bunch. No matter how much you wanna write, there's no point torturing yourself over how little you're doing and shaming or pressuring yourself to get it done. Punishing yourself is just gonna kill your inspiration and, obviously, you're not going to want to write if you now associate it with punishment for not writing. It's a cycle of just being mean to yourself. Well, don't wanna be unproductive? As silly and counterproductive as it sounds; self care is the answer which I've found that actually works.

This actually leads into Issue Number 2. I think these probably stem from the same issue; punishing yourself for not producing. Again, punishing yourself and shaming yourself into just staring at a blank screen or staring at how little the word count is or how much you have to go until your goal is just going to kill your inspiration and make you bored. Shaming doesn't get you to write more, or faster or suddenly become more productive. Believe it or not? Self care and making it fun is what makes a fun story come to life. You're not just writing a block of text that's a recount to sell in this capitalist hellhole (I mean you are but that doesn't mean the process has to be bound by capitalism because FUCK CAPITALISM), you're writing a story you wanna tell; focus on the story before the method and don't punish yourself for it not just magically appearing. These things take time, they take trial, error, mistakes and various drafts, but FIRST? They take those little moments where you just daydream scenes and the imagination you have to exist at all. Focus first on the story and your own health and the rest will come, slowly but surely. Anyway that was a lot of words to essentially just say; don't look at the word count, focus on the story and the length will follow regardless. It's fine to check and obviously, you'll just have to at some point. But please please try and do what you can to avoid checking, even use a different method. I use page count because it's so varied and inaccurate that it actually doesn't matter and just tricks my brain into using that to see my very general progress and makes it seem bigger than it actually is. It also can just be easier to check at a glance if I want to make sure the structure of each chapter is more or less consistent enough.

Issue Number 3 is tricky, mostly because once you've made something, it can be legitimately very boring to reread everything you JUST wrote. For me, I'm sort of chaotic in that I reread as I go or do it very randomly and rewrite as I come up with things. The good thing is though that what you write isn't set in stone. It's malleable and fluid. I always have a cut and paste section on my computer where I just... cut and page and rearrange things as I think of it. I don't worry about "oh but what if I mess up" because you're ALWAYS gonna mess up! That's actually one of the cool things about writing, you CAN mess up and go back and reread it eventually to make it work a bit better after all the other chaotic going-back-and-fixing-things. Which brings me to my main point (especially if you don't want to replicate my chaoticness) I try to leave proofreading itself as much as I can for the end of it all. As in, I just let myself write, yes rearranging and going back whenever I want, but never throwing anything OUT, never scrapping the whole document because it's gonna have bits you might reuse. And more to the point, it gives you a lose skeleton to base your next draft on. It's more work but I find it really reassuring in that you don't judge every little thing as you go, but just say "meh, fuck it!" and write whatever works, then rewrite it in a separate document all over again, never deleting the last one so you can copy and page whatever you liked from the first draft, or second, or third, and use each mistake and flaw. Recycling is good folks, even just in writing. Or... at least it is for me. If this doesn't work for you, it doesn't work for you, but this is just what helps me so maybe it might help you too.

This also goes into Issue Number 4. Honestly, you're never gonna not be your biggest critic. But! You can at least make your work feel a bit more positive and go in with a "eh who cares?" mindset into writing. It may not erase the "wow this is hot garbage" feeling, but it'll feel a bit more like "well this is MY hot garbage and I don't care if it's bad or good, because at least it was fun". Plus, like I said; recycling is very good. The best way to force yourself not to hate something is to get really damn used to it, AKA, never getting rid of it. Which is hard, I know. Especially if you just really freaking hate it. And, well, it's not like I'm saying you should keep absolutely every little thing, I don't want you all to get clutter and folders upon folders of stuff you won't use...buuut I am saying it helps to keep things and get comfortable in your own messiness and imperfection. It starts to feel normal at least, or for me it does, and slowly you kind of just...accept it. Also, making fun little things to enjoy your ideas away from your writing itself. If you draw? Make fanart. Maybe even make AUs in your head. Maybe make some mood boards. HYPE YOURSELF UP! Or as best you can at least, and never force things. If you aren't feeling this particular story right now? Move on to another project and yes having WIPs can be annoying but sometimes it's necessary. Again, these are all just my opinions and stuff I do when I struggle with these; I'm not commanding anyone to do anything and as always, maybe this won't work for you personally. But hey, doesn't hurt to give it a try first and see if it works, or maybe something else will. Whatever the case, this is just my own two cents.

And finally, Number 5. Honestly? This isn't so much as issue in and of itself as much as just an issue of prioritisation. Imagination is the most important part of even coming up with a story to begin with and, honestly, imagining scenes can really help build a mental image of what you want to describe and how things look and feel. One thing, a little cheat code you could say, that I've found is melding daydreaming with research. Which makes absolutely no sense since this is the most funnest part with the most boring part of writing, but hey, it works surprisingly well I assure you. So here's the setup I have; no doc (except for if I really need to jot down some notes), then images that remind me of my work (Pinterest boards maybe, a few mood boards, etc), then the research. I go between each of these; daydreaming. The result? I imagine scenes with the research I want; motifs that work with themes, imagery to use in scenes, what architecture works, what the weapons look like. Then, before I even write, I go back and still daydream WITH what I've researched and it sticks in my mind way better than even the notes I've made. Speaking of, with notes, I like to doodle in the margins of them, make them fun, highlight with fun colours. Sometimes? Research, note taking and writing doesn't have to be work in and of itself, sometimes it can be fun and a little quest of your own. Sometimes making writing and research feel like you're daydreaming can make all the difference between begrudgingly slugging through a chapter, or just having fun writing a new scene you just imagined and that starts to form into something new and exciting.

TLDR: Make writing fun! Like Mary Poppins once said; "a spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down". Sometimes it's actually better to make the work into a treat instead of using a treat as a bribe or punishing yourself. In fact, making any part of the process into a punishment for not working just makes everything harder.

ALSO! Just in general, take breaks! It's easy to forget what you're doing (especially once it becomes fun) and forget to take care of yourself both physically and mentally. Too much time looking at a screen (or even just a page) can be straining! Remember to eat! Remember to drink water and sleep! Get up and walk around if you can, go to the bathroom and maybe even go for a little walk outside and get some Vitamin D if you're able to. Remember to maybe take a few days away from writing so you can come at it again with a refreshed mind and new perspective, sometimes you can get boggled down and start getting too focused on one little thing. It's good to let yourself have half an hour, an hour or even a few days to just refresh and go out and get new inspiration just from living. Sometimes the key to writing and ideas is to just stop writing for a bit and to just take a breath.

#writing #writers on tumblr #creative writing #writing community #writeblr #novel writing #writers and readers #tumblr writers #tumblr writing community #writerscommunity #writerblr #writers and poets #writing advice #long post #also some swearing oops #writing resources

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stxrvel · 1 year

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greatest fear (3)

series summary: you woke up from a long coma with no memory of a part of your life only to be told by your teammates that you're married to the man you hated seven years ago. even though that seemed to be the only problem, as time goes on you're realizing there's a lot more history and mystery behind the accident that left you in medical care for months. blackouts, more memory loss, mistrust and a strange man who seems to be connected to everything. every day it gets harder to trust anyone around you, but you won't stop until you can finally uncover the truth behind the accident.

chapter summary: bucky has to learn to deal with the fact that things don't always work out the way we want them to.

pairing: bucky barnes x f!reader

words: +5k i think

warnings: none? angst, that's for sure

note: hello!!! i think it's been almost a month? but better late than never. this didn't came out like i wanted at all, but i'm still gonna publish it bc i don't dislike it that much. i probably could've approach the subject way better. maybe i'll edit this someday. anyway, i do hope you all like this and give it some love 💜 i'll try to keep it up to get you guys pt 4 sooner, but i don't promise anything. feedback is always appreciate!! thank u all!!

masterlist | next | series masterlist

Everyone already knew Bucky's greatest fear. He had spent years being untouchable, seemingly the only person on the team who wasn't afraid of anything, not even living on the edge. They had spent years getting used to seeing the inscrutable face of an emotionless man. And they'd spent years thinking that was never going to change. To be honest, Bucky believed the same thing. As he resumed his “normal”, ordinary life, he felt that there was nothing he hadn't experienced before and that, because of that, there was nothing that could really hurt him. So why bother worrying about anything, why be afraid in the first place?

Bucky used to be an unflappable person. Even after meeting you, after confessing his feelings for you, after knowing that you might be a weak spot, Bucky still thought he wasn't afraid of anything. What's more, with you by his side he considered himself an invincible person. Unreachable. The people around him saw him as so sure of himself that they never once doubted that he could be the most fearless man in the world.

Until you had the accident.

Bucky began to see the world in dark colors. He had been afraid, yes, he had said so many times. But he was also struck by how close he had come to going insane. The people around him had ceased to view him with respect, but with concern. He had never allowed himself to be seen that way, because even if he had ever felt in a similar way, he had never been as strong as he was that time. He was at a point of vulnerability that was almost incomparable to anything that had happened in his life before.

The level of despair and stress he was dealing with from the moment he found out about your accident until months later when he knew how to manage his emotions, he couldn't quantify it in a rational way.

And the people around him were sympathetic, but he still hated that he had let himself be seen that way. The quivering mess he'd become since he found out about it haunted him like a symphony echoing in his head on the highest note. Sometimes it wouldn't let him think, wouldn't let him remember, wouldn't let him live. Even being there in a room with you, there was nothing but a din of incongruous notes crashing against each other, without any harmony, without any order.

At other times there was silence. A deafening silence sometimes accompanied by a beeping that increased as the minutes progressed. The voices were echoes and the images were blurred figures in the distance. There was nothing else in his head but space to process the silence.

Everyone knew Bucky's biggest fear, and it had caused him some long-term problems that he still didn't know how to handle. Since everyone knew that, he was no longer the fearless Bucky, the most daring person. Now he seemed to be perceived as a walking time bomb, even though he seemed to be the one who handled the situation the best… well, not from the beginning, but he learned to cope.

He hated that that stage of vulnerability had become so embedded in the memories of others that it was now the only thing they evoked when they thought of him. He hated that consideration. As much as he wanted and appreciated the support, he hated when it came from regret. From condescension. Of the wary glances. Like tiptoeing around him in fear that he would explode at any moment.

That was how Bucky felt at that moment. With everyone watching him around him, thinking that at any moment he would freak out and start screaming at each of them.

“She's okay now,” Bucky heard Natasha's voice flooding the room that had become the recipient of an imperturbably uncomfortable silence. Her voice was neutral, calm and patient, like the others', even though their faces showed incomparable chagrin.

Bucky let out a long sigh and let his gaze fall on any object in that room.

The rain was lashing hard against the city that day. The drops bounced off the large window and fell swiftly towards the end of their ephemeral life where gravity used to drag them down. The cold crept into the building through every crevice it could find, as if seeking any refuge from itself within the warmth of the human structure.

Bucky didn't plan to ever feel fear again.

He was constantly surrounded by worry, but tried to reassure himself that you were in a safe place surrounded by people who were willing to protect you. Until Steve appeared running down the hallway of the rooms shouting his name, and then yours, and then named Dr. Cho. A peculiar combination of words but they were enough to push him over the edge.

He had never run so fast from one end of the building to the other since that fateful day.

Memories slipped as fast in front of his eyes as raindrops did that day, swept away by the restlessness of his mind surrounding almost possible catastrophic scenario. Bucky knew he shouldn't do that, but telling him not to was like going against nature.

The worst part was that he couldn't see you as soon as he got to the medical wing of the Complex. He could barely make you out through the glass doors.

And so hours went by.

Bucky stayed in the next room waiting for some news, when one by one the others began to arrive.

Near midnight Natasha appeared and finally gave him good news.

“They stabilized her and are now waiting for the drugs to take effect.”

Bucky nodded at her words and the vibe in the room finally changed. Sighs of relief and comforting words leapt into full view, but Natasha didn't take her eyes off Bucky.

“What happened to her?” he finally dared to ask, though he knew the answer the moment the redhead entered the room.

“They still don't know. One moment they thought it was cardiac arrest, then a stroke, then she had seizures. But finally she was just… still. At some point she regained consciousness and said her whole body hurt. The doctor gave her some medication and now she sleeps. All her vitals are fine, like nothing ever happened.”

Bucky was not thinking clearly. He had understood every single word that came out of Natasha's mouth, but he couldn't pin his thoughts down to a single idea. His mind was conjecturing at an incomprehensible speed and it was causing him severe irritability that he couldn't come up with a solution.

“Did she say anything else?”

“No.”

“Okay. Thank you.”

It had been six hours when you woke up. Bucky had settled into a chair in the corner of the room, not too far or too close to where you were lying, and was trying to get some sleep, but worry wouldn't leave him. Steve accompanied him for a while before he had to leave on a mission, and Natasha stopped by at some point to drop off something to eat before leaving, just like Steve, on a mission. After that, he must have spent about two hours trying to fall asleep, but it seemed an impossible task. The constant sound of the machine monitoring your heart kept him unconsciously aware of his surroundings. And, even if there were no external stimuli to keep him awake, his mind would have done so. The fear, the panic, the hopelessness…. He almost feared that you would never even wake up again.

His body almost reacted to your movements because he opened his eyes just as you were beginning to move on the gurney.

“Y/N?”

Rising from the chair, he began to slowly approach you, even though his body was begging him to run to your side and wrap you in his arms. He watched you move one of your arms to cover your eyes for a moment, before focusing your gaze on his.

Your frown did not bring him good news.

“Where am I?”

Finally reaching where you were, Bucky pressed the button on the side of the gurney to call the doctor, his heart heavy and aching. That those were the first words out of your mouth should have made him understand what had happened, and in a matter of seconds the limbs of his body shook with a shudder. But it couldn't be like that, he couldn't go through that again. Bucky was not in the capacity to go through that again.

He was promptly convinced otherwise and focused on your confused expression.

“You're at the Avengers Complex in Washington.”

“What do I do…?”

“You were in an accident. You lost consciousness for several hours.”

The dazed expression on your face didn't change and Bucky's nerves ascended with each passing second. The words came out of his mouth as an automatic response and your face contracted taking in the reality, but you didn't seem to make peace with understanding. The few things Bucky had told you seemed to only worsen your state of confusion.

“Do you know what day it is?”

When you shook your head, Bucky felt a cold chill run through him as if he were standing in the middle of a heavy snowfall. The fear he had deprived himself of and had almost prayed he would never feel again was making its way through his mind and body, and if he didn't stay calm things were not going to go well.

“It's November fourth of the year 2023. Do you remember anything about this year?”

You shook your head again. Your expression was starting to change from confusion to fear and Bucky knew he had to do something soon to keep you from being consumed by the feeling.

“No… No, I don't understand… what's going on. It's like my head is totally black. There's no-I don't see…”

Your distressed gaze met Bucky's and your bewilderment bordering on concern caused a pang in his heart. He felt like he could die of a broken heart at that moment. He didn't know what the look on his face was, but he knew it must not be as neutral as he wanted it to be because somehow he had to let out the feeling that was choking him at that moment. It seemed like that look Bucky had on his face gave your tears permission to start bulging in your eyes.

“I can't remember anything. At all,” you sobbed. “I don't know what I'm doing here. I don't remember what happened. I don't remember who-”

Bucky watched your eyes move around the room and noticed how you clenched your hands on the sheet. Your breathing becoming ragged confirmed to him that you were about to have a panic attack. Of all the times he had done it before, he automatically reached out to you and took your hands in his. He swallowed the feeling that wanted to overpower him and the hopelessness in a second. He couldn't leave you in that situation at that moment. Your glassy, big eyes turned to his.

“You're okay right now, okay?” with your eyes locked on his, still breathing erratically and your heart about to burst, you nodded slightly. “Okay, then breathe with me and then we'll talk again.”

Bucky took a deep breath, lifting his shoulders and not taking his eyes off yours to urge you to mimic him. He stayed in that position until you did the same, taking a shaky breath and tightening your fingers around his hand. The tears wouldn't stop coming and the sight almost made him cower in the corner of his head to cry with you.

“Now let the air out of your mouth slowly.”

Exemplifying your words, Bucky let the air out and you mimicked him next, still not letting go of the trembling.

Bucky took another deep breath and you followed suit, expelling the air once he did.

Like that, again and again.

And again.

Until you could only stare into his blue eyes without a single thought in your head.

“Feeling better?”

You nodded without a word.

Bucky could notice your lowered shoulders and the few tears on your red cheeks, so he ventured to let go of your hands. He didn't let it go unnoticed the way your eyes parted from his, after so long, to observe the place where your hands were joined. You intertwined your own hands and let out a sigh. Bucky had to swallow again the feeling and the urge to move closer. It made him angry inside because he thought he had already learned how to handle the distance and because he didn't think he would have to go through such a scenario again, but life is full of surprises.

“I understand that you're scared and worried, okay? But I want you to try to stay calm for a while while Dr. Cho asks you some questions and runs some tests, are you okay with that?”

Bucky watched as you shook your head as he pointed behind him to where there were two women standing in the door frame who he had heard enter a few minutes ago, but didn't acknowledge their arrival until you were calm and willing. He was dying to know what had been going through your head as you cocked it and frowned slightly watching the women.

“Yes,” you barely mumbled, but Bucky could hear you perfectly. He could hear you even in any kind of crowd.

With a heaviness in his soul, Bucky got up from the gurney and gave Dr. Cho and the nurse, Christina, room to pass.

He took a few more steps away, until he was near the door, and it weighed on him to see how your eyes did not leave his figure. He didn't know whether to leave or to stay there waiting for them to finish. He didn't want to leave you alone, that was clear, but the pressure in his chest grew stronger with each passing second, and he wasn't sure he could stay any longer if you kept looking at him like that. Like he was the only person in the room, like he was the only person who mattered, like he was someone you remembered… but you don't. You don't remember him. Not anymore.

Bucky found himself wandering around the Complex until he decided to settle on the rooftop. He thought that spending that time alone wouldn't do him much good because his mind would replay over and over again the moment when you had that frightened expression on your face again, and then he wouldn't have time to try to calm down and regain his composure. And he did. For a few minutes.

Bucky let his mind snap. The tension building up on his shoulders was too much, and if he didn't let it out, he feared it would explode inside him. He was thankful to be alone at that moment because he didn't like to cry around people. Not just crying, but expressing too much in general.

At that moment he was crying not only for his suffering, but for yours. Because more than not wanting to go through it himself, he had to think about what you must be feeling and thinking, being in a completely foreign environment and with strangers proclaiming to know you more than you know yourself. Bucky hated the thought of you having to go through that again, even if you didn't remember the first time. Bucky was crying on that rooftop because once again life had robbed you of the well-being you deserved, because you could no longer spend a moment fully aware of yourself.

More than his pain, Bucky ached to think of yours.

And what could he do about it? Nothing. Just like last time.

He didn't know how long he'd been there, arms resting on the edge of the rooftop overlooking the green field around Complex. He only knew it was around noon when Tony Stark opened the door behind him.

“You must be hungry,” was the first thing the man behind him said, trying to lighten the tense mood that must have been surrounding Bucky at that moment. But no, he didn't have time to think about mundane things.

“Not really.”

A silence settled and he knew Tony must be weighing whether or not it had been a good idea to show up there knowing he was alone. Bucky really didn't mean to be hostile, he just felt too much anger and rage against life and the universe inside his body that he wanted to get out somehow. It wasn't the right thing to do, of course, and he was trying to control himself, but he didn't deny that it would be difficult.

“I'll leave it here, anyway. Just in case.”

Bucky caught the sound of the bag and then the sound of Tony's shoes that weren't moving away but coming closer.

“Thanks.”

“It's the least I could do.”

“And you didn't have to. I was almost going down anyway.”

Tony snorted, moving closer to the wall where Bucky was leaning.

“Surely you don't even know what time it is.”

“Surely,” Bucky agreed, nodding.

Both men took a detailed look at the trees stretching a long distance away in an oddly comfortable silence.

“Did Dr. Cho say anything?”

Tony turned to watch him, and stood for a moment pondering what to say.

“Everything's fine. She ran several tests, but everything came back fine.”

“Everything's fine except her memories are gone again.”

“She thinks it may be some kind of condition left in her brain after the accident.”

“It's been over a year now, Tony.”

“I know. They're exploring every alternative.”

Bucky nodded, getting a bitter feeling in his mouth. He knew he should be grateful you were alive, but damn, did you have to go through all that?

“How's she doing?”

“She's looking good. She hit it off real quick with Christina and was eating with Clint when I came out.”

“And she's eating well?”

“Yeah, the usual.”

Bucky nodded again. Maybe he should come back, stay with you for a while and talk about some things; anything. But every time he thought about going back he felt that tug in his chest that made him recoil from any progress. He didn't want the situation to overcome him, but he was losing the battle.

“Barnes, I wanted to tell you-”

“Tony, it's not necessary.”

“It is, especially at this time.”

“No, it's not,” Bucky spat, shifting his body to stare at the mechanic. “Especially right now, it's not.”

The man pursed his lips and Bucky turned away to look at the lunch that should have been inside the white bag on the table.

“I just wanted to say I'm sorry. For everything. That was it.”

Bucky turned to look at the man who had settled in the same way, both of them with their backs to the green field. Bucky sighed, and knowing Tony he knew he couldn't leave without having his conversation. But maybe that would do him good. It had been months since he'd last talked to anyone about that situation.

“There was no way to foresee it, you know that.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Bucky watched the man shake his head as he did every time someone gave him a similar comment. He just wouldn't accept it.

“I could have been more vigilant, you know? I've spent my life trying to learn from my mistakes, trying to take care of the people in my charge, trying to do my best to keep everyone safe. I still don't understand how… How I could have made that mistake.”

“We were dealing with something bigger than ourselves. I think, even if you had gone all out, there couldn't have been any other ending. And believe me when I tell you I'm the person who would have wanted another ending.”

Bucky crossed his arms over his chest with his eyes on the rooftop floor. His mind roamed over those memories he tried not to return to under any circumstances, and he allowed it only because he couldn't deal with that situation any other way.

“I had to have tried.”

“Tony, I know you did your best. And I also know that after everything that happened you asked FRIDAY a thousand times if there would have been another chance to have avoided what happened. Did you have an answer?”

Tony didn't answer.

“Then it doesn't make sense for you to blame yourself for something you simply couldn't have controlled. I guess that's the way things were supposed to be.”

“It's unfair.”

“Life isn't fair to anyone.”

Bucky stepped away from the wall and reached over to take the bag Tony had brought him. “Thanks for this.”

And without further ado, he walked into the building once more.

From outside, Bucky watched you talking animatedly with Clint and Carol. Dr. Cho had told him that, although she had not yet been able to find the reason why you had lost your memories again, you were in perfect health. Bucky wanted to punch a wall, but settled for thanking her for looking out for you.

The day had gotten extremely long and he had only spent a quarter of it with you. It was already dusk and he had barely mustered the strength to come see you. And seeing you there, so giggly and happy, made him question whether he should come in and ruin all the fun. He knew his face was a jumble of a hundred emotions that he still couldn't quite control, because even seeing you caused him a sharp pain in his heart that he couldn't tolerate. So he didn't know if going in looking like that was the best choice.

But before he could weigh it further, your gaze met his through the masses of air, and his breath hitched for a few seconds.

The look of recognition you gave him brought a sense of warmth to his body. It was like wiping a damp cloth over his bruised heart. Bucky knew you didn't remember him, but that in such a short time you could give him that kind of look meant too much to him. Your face looked much more serene than the last time you had seen each other, and you no longer had so many wires around your body embedded in your skin, from what he could see from a distance.

Maybe it was indeed safe for him to enter.

Act normal, act normal…

“Hi, Bucky!” you greeted him effusively.

Bucky felt his body faint. Halfway through he planted his feet on the ground and watched the other two with you hold back smiles. Well, Clint wasn't so sneaky.

“How's it goig Bucky? Did you enjoy lunch? It was courtesy of Tony for everyone.”

“Yeah,” he replied dryly. He knew Clint was trying to keep his spirits up, but he didn't feel moodily ready to keep talking to other people, just to share a pleasant silence with you.

“Y/N ordered ravioli,” Carol added to the conversation, turning to look at your red face. “And she also ordered your lunch.”

Bucky frowned.

“I'm glad you liked it,” you mumbled in his direction, barely audible but crystal clear to him. His heart flipped, and he hated that his mind was trying to remind him of where he stood. He wanted a small moment of ignorance.

He didn't know what to say other than thank you, so he just stood there in front of them in a very awkward position.

“All right, Y/N, our fun is over.”

“You're leaving already?”

Bucky detailed you looking at Clint as he and Carol stretched to leave. He mentally wondered if it bothered you to be left alone with his presence, if you didn't want them to leave and leave you with him. If you saw him as an annoying, grumpy figure. He wondered if the others had said something to you about him that suddenly made you see him in a less sympathetic or friendly light. He wondered if-

“We have a mission to attend, and we're very punctual,” Carol's voice broke in on Bucky's train of thought.

“As soon as we get back we'll be here. We have a lot of other things to talk about.”

“Okay, have a good one!”

Bucky watched you shake your hand in farewell to the two people who were leaving the room and was surprised at how much your attitude had changed since he saw you after you woke up. But hey, it had been a while since then. Maybe you had been able to make peace with what had happened by now, and they must have told you everything?

“How are you?” Bucky found himself suddenly asking.

“I'm feeling fine. Besides the obvious, I'm not in any more pain. Dr. Cho told me I'll probably be discharged tomorrow.”

“That's good,” the man mused. “And you want to talk? About what happened.”

You made a thoughtful grimace that Bucky found quite tender, but his mind conjured up the times when you'd made similar grimaces in the past and he'd planted a kiss on your mouth. It wasn't a good time to reminisce about things like that, and the twinge in his heart proved him right.

“Not really,” you replied. “Why don't we talk about you?”

“About me?”

“Yes.”

“And what things do you want to talk about me?”

“Well, I was told that our relationship was different from the friendship I had with everyone else, so we can start there.”

“You want to know what kind of relationship we had?”

“Mm-hm.”

“We were married.”

Your eyes expanded in surprise, as if you expected any answer but that one. Which was strange for Bucky because he couldn't conceive of what other kind of relationship you could have besides a friendship.

“Married?”

“Yes.”

“But I don't have any rings,” you mumbled as you held up both hands to look at your fingers, then held them out to him, as if to let him see you weren't lying.

“You don't use it anymore.”

“Why?”

“Well…” Bucky didn't know how far to go with his historical account because he didn't know how much Dr. Cho or the others had told you and he didn't want to saturate you with information either. “What do you know about what happened?”

You took a deep breath and brought your hands to your lap as if you had been waiting for that question. It probably was.

“Dr. Cho told me that I had an accident over a year ago due to which I was in a coma and lost my memory. That a couple of months after being in the hospital I was discharged and came to live here. And that almost two days ago I had some kind of incident that caused me to lose my memory again.”

Bucky was taken aback by the matter-of-fact way you told him all that. The only thing that was going around in his mind was how before you didn't like to mention the subject at all and used to avoid it any way you could unless it was strictly necessary. At that moment it was as if you were telling someone else's story and not your own, because not a hint of emotion could be seen on your face.

“Then why don't I wear the ring?”

Bucky held his frown. This was definitely almost that much of a sharp change to the last few times he interacted with you.

“Hum… You've had it removed since the accident and I gave it to you after some time in the hospital, but I told you that you didn't have to wear it if you didn't want to.”

“Oh, I understand. So I decided not to wear it. And where is it?”

“I don't know. You kept it. Maybe it's somewhere in your room.”

“Right. I'll go look for it when I get back.”

Bucky nodded at your words not really knowing what to say. He didn't know how to act in reason to your behavior. Well, it should be good that it didn't seem to affect you as hard as it did before, but he found it hard to believe that it didn't affect you at all. Could it be that it really was?

He couldn't know for sure, but the calm expression on your face was about to convince him completely. The way you looked like you didn't have a care in the world made him feel much better, and he would definitely battle to make it last much longer.

“Besides that, is there anything else you want to tell me?”

Too many things.

“No.”

You let out a short laugh that bloomed in Bucky's chest.

“Then our relationship boils down to: we were married, and that's it.”

The man shrugged, not really having a clue what else to say about it.

At his gesture, you exhaled with a determined look.

“We were close?”

“Yes.”

“Did we make jokes?”

“Yes. You mostly.”

“It definitely had to be that way. Did we go out on dates often?”

“Yes.”

“Did we argue?”

“Not a lot.”

“Okay. Did we buy each other gifts?”

“Yeah.”

“Aw. Did we live together?”

“Sure.”

“Did we sleep in the same bed?”

“Of course.”

Bucky frowned as you stood for a few seconds in silence, just watching his face.

“We had children?”

The man went blank for a few seconds, only looking into your eyes. He definitely wasn't expecting that question, but it was something that had been on his mind a lot before.

“No.”

“Ah. So, did we travel a lot?”

“Yes, we traveled quite a bit.”

“Excellent!” you smiled genuinely at him, with that kind of smile he loved and that since the accident he had almost never seen. If he had seen it, it hadn't been directed at him. “Then we were a good match.”

Bucky smiled. It was almost an instinct. His mind flashed back to the one memory that at the time didn't cause him sadness: sometime, someday, you had told him that some questions had to be answered in a positive way to know if they had fulfilled their purpose of being a perfect couple. He didn't remember if it was those same questions, but he could make the connection to that memory he had of you at the time. Then, for a second, he allowed himself to enjoy the present. No worries, no sadness. You were alive right there in front of him, in an excellent state of health and, it seemed, a good state of mind. Beyond that, what could he ask for? All that was left for him to do was to make the most of every moment he had.

“Yes, we were a good couple.”

--------

A/N

😶😶😶😶😶

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thetomorrowshow · 21 days

Text

apologies

empires superpowers au masterlist (currently out of date)

a story that takes place during chapter 10 of ‘poisoned rats’.

cw: past abuse, anxiety, food

“Hi, Major!”

Jimmy starts, looks behind them.

Blossom is standing on the curb across the road, opening up a mailbox to remove the contents.

Scott waves back cheerily, one hand still unlocking the front door. “Hey, Blossom! Your garden looks so cute today!”

“Scott,” Jimmy mutters, tugging anxiously on the hem of his own hoodie. “Scott. Can we please go in?”

“Aw, thanks! Hi, Major’s roommate! How are you doing?”

That’s Blossom. He can’t—he looks over at Scott, silently begging him to unlock the door and let him in so he doesn’t have to answer.

“We’re both doing wonderful,” Scott replies, in lieu of Jimmy saying anything. Blossom smiles widely, and Jimmy’s close to actually tapping Scott on the shoulder because they’ve been standing there with the keys in the lock for what feels like hours and he really doesn’t feel comfortable making small talk with Blossom, of all people.

“Scott, please,” he whispers, and Scott finally notices his distress and pushes the door open, stepping aside to let Jimmy in.

Jimmy pushes past him, uncaring of how rude it probably seems, as Scott calls another pleasantry across the road.

It wasn’t his first venture out of the house, but only his third, and he’d been on edge the entire time at the hardware store, had barely been able to give his opinion on the paint swatches he was supposed to be looking at.

They’re painting his room, as much as he insists he’s fine with the white walls. He’d decided on a pale green eventually, and now he sets the two cans of paint down on the dining room table and puts his hands beside them and just tries to breathe.

He’s fine. It’s fine. He lives in a neighborhood of superheros, of course he’s going to run into them at some point. It’s unreasonable to think that he can live in total isolation and still get better.

He’d just prefer they were strangers.

The front door closes. “Jimmy?”

Jimmy doesn’t look up, just presses his hands harder into the table. “I’m fine,” he lies, voice shaking.

Scott sounds unsure when he next speaks. “Was it—was it just someone talking to you? Or was there something else?”

There are some things that Scott will just let go. Things that he clearly doesn’t know how to handle, so he doesn’t push and accepts that it’s something Jimmy isn’t capable of and they leave it at that.

This is clearly not one of those things.

“I’ve hurt her,” he manages, swallowing past the lump in his throat. “Both recently, and . . . before. I’ve—I’ve hurt all of them, Scott, I’ve hurt Pearl and Gem and the Mad King and—”

“Do you want to sit down?” interrupts Scott, and Jimmy nods gratefully and lets Scott take him by the arm and lead him to the living room sofa.

“Jimmy,” Scott starts, glancing uncertainly at him, “they don’t . . . Blossom doesn’t know, you know? Most of them don’t know who you are.”

Most implies that some of them do, and that does little to calm Jimmy’s nerves anyway. The facts of the matter are that Jimmy’s hurt a lot of people whether he meant to or not, and some of those people just happened to be well-loved and extremely powerful superheroes, and if he tries to apologize and explain to any of them, he’s more likely to be killed or jailed than forgiven.

“Who does know?”

Scott bites his lip. “Gem, for sure. She knows just about everything, actually, and she’s a very forgiving person and is fine with it.”

Gem is one of the people he’s hurt the worst—he remembers hurting her so badly back when she first became a hero that she was out of commission for weeks.

He needs to apologize in person.

“And because Gem knows, fWhip knows, and maybe Mythics and Pearl, considering whatever weird friendship they all have.”

Great. That doesn’t make him panic any less. He knew that Mythics knew the connection between Solidarity and the Canary due to less than fortunate circumstances, and he’d had a hand in kidnapping Gem so that makes sense anyways. fWhip doesn’t particularly like him, but if he hasn’t said anything then hopefully he doesn’t have to reach out. Pearl is an unknown.

“Oh, and Joel, of course,” Scott waves off, and Jimmy frowns.

“Joel?”

Scott blinks, his face falling. “Forget I said anything?” he tries half-heartedly. Then he shrugs, grins at Jimmy. “Eh, you would’ve learned it eventually. That’s the Mad King, he helped a lot in getting you and Gem out of there.”

Okay, that’s not . . . that’s not too bad. His memory is, admittedly, blurry, but he can vaguely recall the Mad King turning up at the end of . . . that day.

At least it’s not the entire city. Jimmy knows that Scott had had to pull some pretty powerful strings to arrange for his identity to be kept a secret, which he’s forever grateful for. It’s just utterly terrifying, knowing that there are so many people who do know who he is, and those people just so happen to be those wronged by him.

He clenches his hands into fists to keep them from shaking. “I need—I need to apologize to them. If I can.”

Scott doesn’t answer at first, just surveys him with an unreadable expression. “You sure?”

Jimmy nods. It’s absolutely terrifying, but he has to do it—just like how he still has to apologize to Lizzie.

Maybe apologizing with other people, for less important transgressions, will make the eventual confrontation with his estranged sister easier.

“Well, there’s actually a neighborhood barbeque this weekend,” Scott offers, and there’s something—there’s something sly in his voice, something suspicious, but Scott’s face is open and innocent when Jimmy meets his eyes. “Masked, of course. We could go to that, and you could see those people in person.”

Already, a pit in his stomach opens, dread spilling out of it. It’s Tuesday. That only gives him a couple of days before he has to see these people. Barely any time to plan anything, barely any time to try to find the words that he’s been searching for for the past five weeks while he postpones Lizzie’s visits.

Scott’s been talking a lot lately about spontaneity.

Jimmy used to live his life based around spontaneity.

Maybe he can just . . . be spontaneous again. It’s been so long since he didn’t have a schedule (even if it wasn’t one that he planned out), so long since he just rolled with the punches.

Maybe this will be good for him.

Jimmy’s precisely thirty seconds into the barbeque and he knows it will not be good for him.

It’s being hosted in the Mad King’s backyard, just down the street, and he and Scott are early enough that they’re the second to arrive, just after Blossom.

“She’s usually on time to stuff,” Scott whispers to Jimmy as they help the Mad King—or, Joel—lug coolers out onto the patio. “Gem is too, but if she’s bringing fWhip along she’ll be late.”

Gem doesn’t arrive at six on the dot, so Jimmy assumes fWhip is coming along. Joy.

It’s not a large group that’s gathered in Joel’s backyard by the time a half hour has passed, but there are several unfamiliar faces—or, masks, rather. Scott mentions that they don’t necessarily all live here, but there are many upstart heroes in the city and inviting them to neighborhood events is a way to show that the city-sponsored ones recognize the good they do.

He mostly sticks to Scott’s side, fiddling with the sleeves of his hoodie, tugging at his mask every so often. It feels like everyone at the party is watching him, knows who he is. There’s no way they don’t recognize him. There’s no way they don’t see his hair combined with his frame and mask and see the Canary or Solidarity.

“Hi, Major’s roommate,” Blossom greets him cheerfully when he and Scott make their way to the drinks table. She’s getting herself some lemonade; Jimmy fills a red solo cup with water and holds onto it to try and stop his hands from shaking so much.

“Hey, Blossom,” Scott says for him, picking up a cherry tomato from the vegetable spread someone had brought and popping it into his mouth. “I’m not sure I ever thanked you for catching my shift last week. Did anyone give you any trouble?”

“Not at all! I think they knew that I was around, and I wasn’t playing games, Major,” Blossom teases. Scott scoffs.

“Yeah, right. More like they decided to go easy on you.”

“Hey, TJ, right?” someone says loudly from behind him. Jimmy jumps, spins around to be face-to-face with the Mad King, a mask crooked over his eyes and a plain apron thrown over his jeans and t-shirt.

“I—uh—”

The Mad King jerks his head toward the grill. “Don’t freak out or anything, just wanted to ask for some help.”

Jimmy glances at Scott, who gives him an encouraging nod, then follows, feeling almost as though the Mad King is leading him to the gallows.

Which is entirely overdramatic, especially since the man helped rescue him in the first place.

The Mad King hands Jimmy a pair of tongs and a plate of hot dogs, explains the segment of the grill he ought to put them on, and tells him when to rotate them, even as he seasons burgers already on the grill and flips them around. Jimmy’s not quite sure what’s happening—he’s never used a grill before, so he isn’t sure if Joel’s cooking is anything particularly talented, but he’s impressed at least.

“How’ve you been holding up?” The Mad King asks after a moment, voice low. Jimmy blinks.

“Um. I’m—well, I’m here?”

Joel snorts. “Yeah, I thought that was kind of weird, really. What’d Major have to do to convince you to come to the superhero barbecue?”

At some point while crossing the yard, Jimmy had set down his cup. He wishes that he still had it, so that both his hands could be occupied. Instead, he stuffs one in his hoodie pocket, and very carefully turns a hot dog with the other.

“I want to apologize,” he says eventually. “I—to the people who know who I am. S—Major said, like—like, Gem, and fWhip know? And maybe Pearl? But I don’t know . . . I don’t. . . .”

“Know how to, like, start a conversation like that?” Joel suggests, and Jimmy nods. Joel clicks his tongue. “Go for it blunt. ‘Hi, my name’s TJ, I beat you up a couple times. How ‘bout we let bygones be bygones, yeah?’ Like that.”

“Absolutely not,” Jimmy says instantly, horrified by the idea. “I can’t just—I need to do it right—”

“‘Hi, Gem, remember when I kidnapped you and submitted you to torture? That’s my bad. Want to play pin the tail on the donkey?’”

“Oh my gosh—”

“‘Oh, fWhip! Yeah, I’m the guy who broke your back. Good times. How’re the kids?’”

“You are something else,” Jimmy manages faintly, setting the tongs down to bury his face in his hands. “Does he really have kids? Did he really break his back?”

“Pretty sure he didn’t break his back, you know, but yeah, his back got broken. Not sure about the kids.”

“I’m never going to get through this,” Jimmy mutters, slightly hysterical. “I’m going to die here. I’m going to panic and break something and then Scott will send me away and—”

“Hey, hey, secret identities,” the Mad King chides. Jimmy presses his fingers into his eyes, trying to regulate his breathing. After a moment, there’s a heavy pat-pat on his shoulder that he just barely doesn’t flinch away from.

“There, there,” Joel says awkwardly. It’s out-of-place enough that Jimmy laughs a bit, sucking in a long breath.

When he can, he lifts his face, picks the tongs back up, returns to watching the hot dogs cook. He glances around, checking to see if anyone’s watching. Everything’s going as normal, nobody seems to have noticed—even Scott, across the yard and lightyears away, is just laughing at some joke Pearl made.

“Sorry,” Jimmy says. Joel chuckles.

“How about you just start with apologizing to me?”

Well, the Mad King is on his apology list. But though he’d just been talking with him, though the conversation even seems almost friendly, Jimmy’s suddenly sweating from everywhere, heart jumping into his throat.

He has to do this.

“I’m—sorry,” he ekes out. He sets the tongs down, then doesn’t know what to do with his hands, and picks them back up. He avoids making eye contact with the Mad King. “For—for all the times I hurt you as the Canary. Or as Solidarity. I wasn’t—things weren’t going great. And also that time I hit you with a trash can.”

“Twice,” Joel points out.

Jimmy swallows. “Yeah. Twice.”

“Those are probably done, by the way,” Joel says, holding out the plate. Mechanically, Jimmy layers the hot dogs onto it.

“Honestly, TJ?” says Joel, flipping a burger and setting another one on the plate. “I’m really surprised you’re even here. It’s been, what—five weeks? Six? Since you got here?”

Jimmy nods.

“Right. Well, if I were you, I’d—I’d be bloomin’ terrified. I wouldn’t have even left my room. You just being here—even if you don’t talk to anyone else—that’s huge, in my opinion.”

Jimmy nods again, glances over to Scott, who is now alone. He starts to sidle away—he isn’t sure how to end conversations, really, he hasn’t had much practice and Scott never minds it when he just heads out to avoid the ending part, but Joel holds a hand out, offers him a small grin.

“And thanks. I accept your apology,” he says, before waving Jimmy on. “Go on, have a good time. Or don’t, more likely. At least eat something, yeah? Lizzie would kill me if she knew you weren’t eating.”

Jimmy doesn’t process that until he’s halfway across the yard, but when he does, he freezes in his tracks.

And it kind of makes sense, when he thinks about it. He’d witnessed the Mad King in battles teamed up with his sister, and they’d both gone with Scott to rescue him.

He tables that for a later date. Maybe Scott knows something about it. He doesn’t really want to strike up another conversation with the Mad King just to ask about it—as nice as he is, he is a little disconcerting.

Jimmy continues toward Scott, only to freeze again when someone taps him on the shoulder.

He spins around, and—fWhip.

fWhip offers him a toothy grin. “Hey, Major’s roommate, yeah? How long have you guys . . . you know. . . ?”

Jimmy stares back, mouth slightly agape. One of the people he definitely has to talk to, and the anxiety in his chest is bubbling up past boiling point.

fWhip’s grin fades. “Right. Um. Anyway, my sister and I—that is, Gem—we were wondering if we could chat with you for a quick minute? I promise we won’t keep you from Scott for very long.”

Which is an odd thing to say, but not exactly wrong. Jimmy thinks for a moment longer—for all he knows, they’ll lead him to a back alley somewhere and beat him up—but he’d deserve it, really, so he decides to go along.

Gem is waiting just inside the house, leaning against the kitchen counter. She smiles wryly, waves a little bit.

“Hi,” she greets him. “Are you still the Canary, or just Solidarity?”

Jimmy winces. “Er, neither,” he says stiltedly. “Just—just TJ. If that’s okay.”

“You weren’t mind-controlled, were you?” fWhip says bluntly. “The Mad King always said you weren’t. And—”

“TJ,” Gem interrupts. “I wanted to say I’m sorry. Mythics told us how badly you were hurting, and we never even noticed anything was wrong. It’s made me rethink my approach to being a hero. I want to help people, but I think I made things worse for you, and I’m sorry.”

Jimmy blinks. Tries to process that.

She’s apologizing to him? But—he doesn’t deserve that, he doesn’t deserve it when he’s the one who hurt her over and over before he was even Xornoth’s, then kidnapped her and subjected her to torture.

His head feels a bit like it’s spinning.

“I mean, I’m not gonna apologize,” fWhip says, shrugging. “But no hard feelings, yeah? I think we’ve both been in some pretty bad situations recently. So yeah.”

Jimmy swallows a few times. At least fWhip hadn’t apologized, he’s not sure what he would’ve done if he had.

“I’m sorry, too,” he forces out. “I shouldn’t have—I hurt you, both of you, a lot. You didn’t do anything.”

“It’s fine,” Gem says at the same time that fWhip says, “Thanks for apologizing.” They exchange a look, then both turn back to Jimmy.

“I know Major pretty well,” Gem says. “I trust him to be a good judge of character. I look forward to getting to know you, TJ.” She smiles warmly, then slides past him and out the backdoor.

“I don’t really trust you,” fWhip says. “Or Major, really. But I trust Gem. So, just . . . glad you’re reforming and all that. See ya.”

And then Jimmy’s alone in the kitchen, and that hadn’t exactly gone as anticipated. It hadn’t gone at all like anticipated, actually.

He’s going to need a couple of days to come to terms with that.

Jimmy heads back out, making a beeline for Scott. This time, nobody pulls him aside, and he can get all the way to him with no issue. Scott raises an eyebrow, but Jimmy shakes his head, so Scott just points him to the grill.

“Go get something to eat, yeah? We can leave after that if you aren’t comfortable.”

Joel shoots him a grin when he takes a hot dog, and Gem passes him the mayo at the condiments table, and Blossom corners him by the chips to ask him if he and Scott have seen the latest episodes of some unknowable TV show (and when he says they haven’t, she gushes about it for a good ten minutes while he tries to eat, frequently giving him strange looks whenever she brings up the main character’s romance).

It’s a lot. It’s inevitable that something goes wrong—and it does, but nothing big, just Jimmy trips over a small crack in the patio that quickly becomes a very large crack as the corner of the paving splits off.

He looks over at Joel, who shrugs, then back to Scott, who calls out an apology to Joel. And that’s it. Joel turns back to his conversation with Pearl and that’s it.

For the first time that evening, the knot in Jimmy’s chest loosens a little bit.

And if he can handle this, then talking to Lizzie will be a piece of cake.

#empires smp #empires smp fanfic #jimmy solidarity #scott smajor #empires superpowers au #esh au #040924 #mas writes #hskjdhj this one was lowkey so ufn #*fun #jimmy hanging out with the heroes is just a lil fluffy!#still away of course #so not much to say here!#hope yall enjoyed this one #love you guys

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lgbtlunaverse · 9 months

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I think i need to explain why this line makes me go so feral

I think the "fine! I'll kill myself after I kill you" line from nie mingjue in chapter 49 permanently altered my brain chemistry and it has something to do with precisely how i got into the mdzs fandom space in the first place.

I've mentioned it a few times but i started watching the untamed in late 2019 right as it was blowing up everywhere and, likely due to a combination of undiagnosed adhd wrecking my ability to be interested in anything for longer than 4 seconds and me very much not being used to the specific style of acting, especially during fightscenes, i never finished it. The only concrete memory i have of it is seeing wen qing's face and meng ziyi completely short circuiting my little gay brain. I remember more of staring endlessly at pictures of her than I remember of the plot. Press F to pay respects.

Flash forward a few years and a friend recommends me a fic writer for an fma fic (the fic riter in question is metisket) and i like their stlye so much i decide to read other stuf they've written. Here we get to our prime suspect: "the one body problem" a genuinely hilarious fic where jingyi gets posessed by wei wuxian like a year before the plot happens and they become awkward brain buddies. 10/10 i loved it (and still do) even though i remember huasiang showing up in my first reading and I, having fully forgotten his name, had no fucking clue what was going on. (Little did i know...)

Anyway flash forward ANOTHER year and I decide to reread that fic, and then the other untamed fic metisket wrote, a wen qing time travel fix it that's also real fun. And then i'm like. huh. that's fun. wonder if there's anything in their bookmarks.

And then, within 20 days, I had read approximately 350 fics. Many of them 100k+ words. I cannot stress enough how much this CONSUMED my brain's ability to do or think about anything else. I now think back to the early days of getting my adhd diagnosis and insisted that while i had pretty much all other symptoms, I did not get hyperfixations. Lol. Lmao, even.

I am mainly focused on wangxian and the junior quartet becuase they are my baby ducklings and i love them. I do come across some 3zun fics and I think huh... this is interesting. But the 3zun brainrot is LIGHT at this point.

The thing about reading more than 350 fanfics is that at some point you kind of piece the plot of the source material back together backwards. Especially because my favorite genre was time travel fix its, where characters relive the whole plot and like to make allusions to all the ways everything went wrong last time.

Because I'm still squarely in my wangxian + juniors (plus a heavy dosis of yunmeng sibling reconciliation) corner here... the feelings on jin guangyao in my fandom corner are. different from where I'd end up soon after. He is my special little guy though, so I do kind of immediatley develop a fondness for him, and I approach my 3zun and early nieyao thoughts specifcially from the assumption that the widespread opinion is that nie mingjue is a fine good guy and jgy is the evil one (I have not seen the bad nmj takes yet. well... I am seeing DIFFERENT bad nmj takes but they're nice to him. In, like, the wrong way. With no solid undertanding of the inherent tragedy at the heart of him that makes him so blorbo to me. But still.) major reactions to the stairs scene as I see them on twitter are "girlboss! He should've kicked him harder 💅"

And the baby jgy apologist in me goes :/ me no likey. And at this point I am also actively seeking out metas and analysis posts so i'm seeing some better opinions than that and getting a halfway solid graps on the themes. wwx and jgy being foils becomes very obvious to me very quickly. So, with my curent understanding of the plot, I go... you know all you people who are like "god i wish nmj would have killed jgy sooner" it uhh... kinda sounds like he'd have died if he did that. If he'd killed him before meng yao had gone off to spy there is a very big chance they'd have lost the sunshot campaign and most of the main cast would be dead. If he'd killed him at the stairs that's... well that's killing your sworn brother, which by the canon's own admission is a universally reviled crime, and jin guangshan could easily take advantage of this by demanding nmj's head in retribution, since he already wanted to get rid of him anyway. He doesn't give a fuck about a-yao of course but he could pretend well enough that he does. And what leg would nmj have to stand on? The jin clan is canonically both willing and able to slaughter entire clans for the murder or attempted murder of the leader or his family, and nie mingjue is the kinda guy who'd immediately offer himself up if it meant the rest of his clan would be spared.

This combined with jin guangyao specifcally dying for his murder of nie mingjue, with huaisang basically not caring much about everything else he does and wanting to get revenge only for his brother, it gives nieyao a sort of mutual doomed soulmates feel. For either of them, killing the other would spell death for themselves. They either both die or they both live, one cannot live on without the order. That's crunchy. I like it.

The fire palace though? well, on meng yao's part there is a real argument that if he'd let nmj get killed immediatly instead of dragging it out he wouldn't have been able to get wrh alone and distracted enough to assasinate him, so that's one half of the mutual doom coin, and if nmj had killed him during their fight there he's also done for. But after? Right before Xichen intervenes? I had no answer for that yet.

(You know what's coming. I did not)

It is at this point that i realize that if this is gonna keep being A Thing then i need to read the source material before I catch fatal fanon poisoning. Yes, I can piece together the plot and themes from seeing what stays consistent across fics and what are the author's own opinons. But I know just as well that sometimes fanon just agrees on shit that didn't happen and treats it like canon, and I have no way of knowing which is which. So I start reading the novel.

And of course, eventually I get to the empathy sequence. And remember, my "nieyao both live or both die" theory is heavy on my mind at this point, and the only stickler is that nmj could sort of have killed meng yao after the confrontation with wrh, still believing meng yao was actually working for him, and not a spy, and get off... not scott-free, Xichen won't be happy, but it's not gonna cost him his life.

And then I read THIS.

Please Imagine dropping a whole block of pure elemental sodium into water. Except the sodium is this quote and the water is my poor little delicate brain. Not only is my theory right, it is ten times more unhinged than i thought it was.

And considering that Nie Mingjue does not seem like the kind of guy who'd consider something like a life debt to have an expiration date, and because after this he will link himself legally and socially to jin guangyao as family and declare that one among their brotherhood turning against the others is to be met with a painful death, I can no longer read the scene at the stairscase in jinlintai without the impression that he is still planning to die afterwards. Which, if you wanted to make that scene even more painful, this is a very efficient way of losing all your remaining hinges.

I think I'd have gone crazy about this line no matter what context I heard it in, but this one specifically? where I'm already obsessed with idea of nieyao's deaths being connected by the narrative and missing just this one piece and having it confirmed? out loud? from one of the characters himself? It's like giving cocaine to a baby.

#mdzs #fandom #jin guangyao #meng yao #nie mingjue #nieyao #? sorta #this was months ago and i have long since worked my way through the whole novel #plus rereading empathy approximately 14 more times #funnily enough the fics that initially got me interested in 3zun don't gell so well with my reading of them anymore #still very well written and i can reread them happily but it's still kind of ironic #it is what i wanted i suppose. Making sure you don't fall for fanon means fanon sometimes becomes less enjoyable #also @helesia if you're reading this yes YOU are the friend and yes that means this is YOUR fault #i'm billing you for my next therapy appointment #not meta not a headcanon but a secret 3rd thing (unorganized rambling)

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amethystina · 2 months

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I wonder how Gaon and Yohan are going to explain the change in their interactions to Elijah, since it's going to be obvious to her that something has happened between them. Since Elijah knows that there's nothing between Gaon and Soo hyun, I wonder if she will play a role in clearing Yohan's misconception? Thanks for the update! I can't stop thinking how many ways this story can play out😅 Btw i really appreciate the time and effort you put into responding to our questions with such detail.

That definitely depends on who's doing the explaining xD Yo Han would just brush it off and pretend that nothing is happening — which would just piss her off — while Ga On would make a stilted effort to explain without making it too obvious what it's actually about. Which would also annoy her.

That poor girl, seriously. She doesn't deserve to get caught between these two idiots.

I'm not sure I agree that Elijah "knows" that there was nothing between Ga On and Soo Hyun, though. I think she very much thinks there was something between them. I mean, sure, they denied it when she asked if they were dating, but THE WAY they did so was pretty telling (especially in Soo Hyun's case). Even more so since Elijah is a bit... well, innocent? I think most of her experience with love comes from media, books etc. and how Ga On and Soo Hyun behaved is, well, straight from a drama xD

And Elijah also had that talk with Soo Hyun when they were eating ice cream on Ga On's terrace, where it became pretty obvious that Soo Hyun is in love with Ga On and has already confessed to him several times.

So I think Elijah very much believes they were in love. Which means she won't really play a role in convincing Yo Han otherwise — if asked, she'd probably only make it worse, even. Because her understanding of love is a bit superficial and probably pretty geared towards straightness. That's not to say that she's not aware of gay people (I think she might actually know more about that than Ga On does xD) but from the evidence she's seen both Ga On and Yo Han seem straight to her (because I can't imagine that Yo Han has flaunted his dalliances with other men in front of her).

I know I'm very, very firm about this but Elijah doesn't know that Yo Han and Ga On have the hots for each other. And not because she's stupid, but because she's grown up in a country where straightness is the norm and Yo Han has done everything he can to hide the depth of his and Ga On's relationship from her. Also, she's a self-centred teenager x'D

Like, take me for an example. I was around 23-24 and very comfortable in my own pansexuality but was still IN NO WAY PREPARED when my mum basically went: "I may only have had sex with two women in my life but, let me tell you — 10/10, would recommend." Because I had only ever seen her date and talk about men before and therefore assumed she had no interest in anything else. That's how easy it is to miss that someone close to you isn't entirely straight — especially if it's a parent/guardian.

So I really don't think that Elijah would notice until it gets a lot more obvious than this xD

Which wasn't technically what your ask was about (sorry for the tangent xD), but still important to know because Elijah really won't be all that helpful when it comes to Yo Han and Ga On figuring out their feelings for each other. In fact, she might just end up making things harder for them without meaning to. But more about that in later chapters ;)

ANYWAY. Thank you so much for the lovely ask! I'm so happy to hear that people are this excited and involved in my story! And, tbh, I can't help replying because I'm very excited, too, and love talking about my writing, my thoughts, and my takes on these characters. How could I resist? More often than not, I have to cut my answers short because I keep writing longer and longer ones.

Like, you guys have no idea how long the first drafts of my author's notes usually are. One time I had to cut half of it because it was reaching truly spectacular lengths. And sure, I know that some of you probably wouldn't complain if I had posted that first draft, but I'm trying to contain myself, okay? And also not reveal too much since it might end up spoiling future plot points. It's a constant struggle.

So yeah. I'm actually consciously holding back a lot of the time because I'm trying to not come off as completely unhinged x'D

#Amethystina Replies #Anonymous #Who Holds the Devil #I admit that I sometimes feel a little bad about being so firm about the Elijah situation #A lot of people seem to want her to be aware of Yo Han and Ga on's feeling?#And help them along?#But I genuinely don't see why she would be based on her character in the drama #She's incredibly clever yes #But also socially inept #(much like her uncle)#And a teenager #She's got her own problems to worry about #Her weird uncle's sexuality is NOT high on her list of priorities okay?

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kikiwritesfanfic · 8 months

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The Lovebug Virus - Chapter 5: Balance

Yandere! Sun and Moon x Reader

Masterlist || AO3 || Chapter 4 || Chapter 6

*****

For once, everything you set out to accomplish in the past few days has been going surprisingly well.

Since the day you fell asleep in the daycare, Sun and Moon have seemingly made it their personal responsibility to make sure you get enough sleep. You had promised them that you would try harder when you came in for your shift the next day, still not having recovered from your sleep deprivation, energy drink in hand and bags under your eyes. Even if you had only said so to get Sun to stop telling you all the reasons why eight hours of sleep were ideal.

For some reason, you felt some sort of resignation in allowing the boys to take care of you. While you had been used to taking care of yourself for so long, letting some of the weight off of your shoulders in trying to remember all the little things that went into keeping your sanity was refreshing. Sun had even started trying to make a little game out of it, guessing how many hours you had gotten of sleep by all of your vitals he could read. It had surprised you at first when he told you that they had the ability to do that, but honestly, what hadn't surprised you about them at this point?

Your grades stopped suffering from the moment you took this job, it seemed. Every single class got more than enough attention, and you had Kat helping you with homework when you needed it. She was more of a help than you expected her to be. The two of you even had enough time to go out for a coffee date again, like you used to do all the time throughout the summer.

During said coffee date, she relayed that she was getting even closer with the girl from the party, whose name is Jenny. You had been hearing Kat on the phone with her a lot recently, and you had even joked with her at one point that she was replacing you with her (which earned you an aggressive hair ruffling). She pestered you about the daycare attendant a lot while you sipped your drink, for some reason. And you couldn't help the heat that rose to your cheeks when you embarrassingly rambled on a little too much about how much you enjoyed being around them.

"Oh come on, Meatball! You so have a crush on them!"

"Shhh!" you said back, looking around frantically to see if anyone else had been eavesdropping on your conversation. Kat pulled her head down apologetically, but still waved her hands back and forth in front of her face excitedly. When you glared at her in response, she sighed and realized that it was somehow a touchy subject.

"Girl, it's not like I'm judging you," she had responded. "One of the other night guards is actually in a relationship with one of the glamrocks," she said nonchalantly. You had immediately perked up at the new knowledge.

"They're allowed to date?" you asked incredulously. She shrugged, breaking off another piece of her slice of lemon cake and popping it into her mouth. You sighed, slumping back into your seat further. "It doesn't matter, anyways. It's not like they've shown any interest in me anyways." Kat scoffed.

"Seriously? Moon never shuts up about you," she claimed, crossing her arms.

"Really?" She shrugged. "I just thought that-"

"Chipmunk, you literally overthink everything. Listen to the things I'm telling you." She leaned forward intimidatingly. "They. Like. You."

It was that conversation that has you currently trying to figure out how you are going to tell them that you also like them. You currently were running through the daycare play structures, playing tag with Sun and the children.

"Oh no! I've been tagged again! What ever shall I do?" Sun calls out dramatically from somewhere across the daycare. You giggle along with Evelyn, who decided to follow you around as usual. She grabs your hand and drags you back down towards the entrance of the play structure. You let her, keeping an eye out for Sun in the process. He seems to have disappeared.

Suddenly, you feel yourself being lifted into the air. You screech, letting go of Evelyn's hand and flailing frantically.

"Tag! Now you're it, Sunbite!" Sun exclaims, holding you in a hug. You can't help but find yourself laughing, enjoying the feeling of playing around like a child again. But you know what time it is, so you put on your best teacher voice as you speak your next words.

"Oh no! Looks like I'll have to be the first person to be 'it' in the next game!" you say, earning whines from a lot of the children.

"Now, now, little sunflowers," Sun chastises, placing you down and then wagging his finger at the young kids. "What do I always say about bringing a game to an end?"

"That it makes room for other fun activities," they all say in unison, excitement forming in their tiny bodies again. You smile as you walk over to the supply closet, pulling out black construction paper and glow-in-the-dark paint. You had come up with this idea yesterday, and when you told Sun about it this morning, he was so ecstatic about it, you had to convince him the entire time you were getting the daycare ready to wait to do the craft until before lunch time.

You walk back over to the tables just as Sun finishes settling them all down in their seats. Sun stands in the middle of them all, looking just about ready to explode. Still, when he speaks, you can't tell from his voice just how excited he is.

"So, who knows what is out in space?" he questions, looking around the young faces. Several of the older ones' hands shoot into the air, and Sun picks one.

"Stars!" he exclaims. Sun tells him he's correct before picking another one. Several of the children take this as an opportunity to just start blurting out answers.

"Planets!"

"Mars!"

"That's a planet, dummy-"

"Galaxies!"

"Yes, yes, yes," Sun says to calm the energetic kids, chuckling gently. He waits for them to quiet down before turning to you. "Sunbite, do you have anything to add?" You smile softly as you continue to hand out paintbrushes and paints to the children.

"The Sun and the Moon," you say, and all the kids let out "ooo's" at your answer. Sun somehow seems to smile wider.

"Correct again!" he agrees. He stands on one of the foam blocks and spreads his arms wide up above him. "There is so much out there that we are only just beginning to explore!" He turns back to face the eager faces. "I want you guys to help Moon and I see it all by drawing whatever you want, as long as it's out in space!"

The children scream in delight, grabbing at the glow paints and beginning their art projects. You can't help but feel a warmth in your chest at how much excitement they're giving off as you retreat to the security desk. Just as you're about to delve into figuring out what the children were having for lunch, you hear the door to the daycare open.

Max rushes in, drawing the attention of several of the children, many of which begin asking Sun who he is. Max waves at them quickly before continuing his approach to you. The apologetic look on his face immediately worries you. "Did I do something wrong already?" you ask half-jokingly, trying to keep the conversation light. He chuckles at that, shaking his head.

"No! God, no. If anything, you're doing everything right, and that's why I'm hesitant to do this..." he trails off the end of his sentence, looking remorseful enough that you feel panic rising in your chest. They weren't going to fire you already, were they? If you had been doing everything right, why would they get rid of you? And right now? In front of all the children?

Max pulls some paperwork off of his clipboard and holds it out in your direction. You take it with shaky hands, looking down and trying to stop the tears that already want to spill from your eyes. But your heart skips a beat or two as you read the top of the paper.

"ROUTINE MAINTENANCE INSTRUCTIONS: DAYCARE ATTENDANT"

"Something came up and now the Daycare Attendant doesn't have anyone to do the scheduled maintenance or cleanup on them," Max says, lifting his arm to scratch the back of his neck. "I tried to convince them to just let me do it, since you're still relatively new and all, but they insisted. I'm sorry you gotta get the extra workload."

A shaky laugh escapes your lips.

Routine maintenance? That's all this was about? Max felt bad because he had to give you extra work? "Max, you scared me!" you say, smacking him with the stack of paper. He looks rather confused, staring at you for a moment before his eyes go wide.

"Oh my god, you probably thought I was going to fire you! I'm so fucking stupid," he says, placing his palm to his forehead.

"Language, Mr. Diaz!" Sun says, earning a flurry of giggles from the children. You smile, relieved at the turn of events.

"It's fine, Max," you assure him, turning back to the desk and placing the papers down to be read later during your lunch break. "Honestly, it doesn't bother me. I'm going to school with Kat literally for robotics engineering anyways, remember?"

He gives you an uneasy smile, probably still convinced that you were being treated unfairly. But still, he says his goodbyes to you and waves at Sun before going to leave the daycare. He opens the door and yelps, though, the STAFF bot having already been waiting to drop off the lunch for the little ones. The daycare erupts into a fit of rowdy laughter as Max's face burns red and he scurries away like a cat.

You walk over to retrieve the meal as Sun begins dismissing the children one by one to go wash their hands. He collects the art projects off of the table and brings them to the security desk to lay out and dry as you set the meal down and begin disinfecting the surfaces. Then the two of you set up lunch as the children wait patiently, talking among themselves. The routine goes by smoothly with you and Sun working in perfect harmony. It makes you smile as you dish up the spaghetti into bowls and hand them to him to place in each of the spots.

The next thing you know, you're back at the security desk with Sun in his usual place, peeking over the monitors curiously as you skim the front page of the booklet Max brought you.

"So does this make you our new handler?" he asks eagerly, his rays seemingly shivering with excitement. You chuckle as you put the packet back down.

"I don't know, Sunny. Could just be temporary," you say, shrugging. He looks disheartened at that, so you continue. "But even if it is, I'm going to aim to be your handler anyways once I've got my degree." That seems to satisfy him, as he leans on the desk now with a goofy grin on his face. "What?" you ask, suddenly feeling self-conscious.

"Oh, I was just thinking about how much better everything in the daycare has gotten since you showed up," he muses, standing back up tall and staring off into the distance like he was reminiscing over old memories. You can't help but think he looks like he's starstruck, which only causes your heart to flutter as the weight of his words sink in.

"Oh I'm sure you guys were doing just fine without me," you say, waving his praise away to deter the blush that threatens to creep to your cheeks.

"Are you kidding me, Sunbite?" he exclaims, looking like if his security protocols weren't actively preventing it, he would leap across the desk and engulf you in a bone-crushing hug. "Everything runs so much smoother when you're here! The kids love all the amazing art projects you come up with, and even Moon appreciates the help you provide during naptime!"

Okay, now you really can't stop the blush as it takes over your cheeks. Thank god the lights are about to go out, because you're not so sure you can take much more praise without just melting on the spot.

"Sunny, stop it," you warn jokingly. "The lights are about to go out, and some of the children are probably ready to start getting cleaned up."

The solar animatronic places both of his hands to his cheeks as if having just remembered that he had a job to do, before rushing over to handle the little ones. You can't help the goofy grin that tugs at the corners of your mouth as you clock out for lunch. You just felt so... good. You wouldn't have to come up with some lame excuse to spend more time with the jester animatronics now that you had to perform weekly checkups on them. Things really couldn't get much better than this.

You wave to Sun as you leave through the employee entrance of the daycare and make your way over to the locker room. You've finally been having enough self control as of late to make yourself meals ahead of time, so as you pull open the door to the locker you put your bag in, you feel your stomach rumble at the knowledge of what was waiting for you to dig into.

Your mouth waters as you pull out your insulated lunchbox and a few bills so you can grab yourself a can of Fizzy Faz on the way back. You know Moon will give you hell for wanting it, but something about the nostalgic taste of barely-flavored corn syrup was just too addicting not to have it every once in a while. Besides, it's not like Moon could really do anything to you when you did have it. He would just grumble and glare at you like a cat protesting being moved from a comfy spot. Not really very intimidating.

Drink and food in hand, you wander back into the daycare quietly, trying your best not to disturb the children as they settle down around Moon. He looks up at you and seems to smile a bit wider, which only makes your heart flutter just as it had with Sun earlier. Maybe Kat was right.

Maybe you are falling head over heels for the stupid jester robots.

You take your usual seat at the security desk and pull out your homemade sushi roll and dumplings, excited once again that you had prepared yourself your favorite food. Moon begins telling a story to the children to get them to fall asleep. You don't recognize what tale he is reciting, which only intrigues you to listen to him instead of pulling your phone out like you usually did. After a moment, you realize that he must have begun telling the story before you even walked back in, because his sentence doesn't exactly sound like the beginnings of one.

"The little child asked the Moon when his birthday was, but the Moon didn't seem to hear him," he says, using his hands to emphasize the story as he went. "So the little child climbed up the highest tree he could find and shouted even louder. 'When is your birthday, Moon?' the boy yelled, and this time, it seemed like the Moon heard him."

You feel so absolutely enamored watching Moon that you almost miss how much his story is starting to sound more and more like he's talking about himself and Sun. The boy being the latter and him being - well, himself, you guess.

"'I don't know when my birthday is,' the Moon told the boy, feeling a little embarrassed by the admission. But the boy only smiled brighter at the Moon, instead offering to celebrate it the next day anyways. 'Tomorrow is my birthday, but I don't mind sharing it with you!' he assured the Moon," the lunar animatronic continued. Yeah, this story is definitely about him and Sun. There is no doubt about it. You wonder if he usually tells this story to the kids, or if he is only telling this story because he knows you're listening. Either way, you pop open your container of sushi and continue to eavesdrop.

"And so the boy set out the next day to figure out a present to give the Moon. He tried painting him a picture, but the colors were too bright and he couldn't seem to get the face right." You realize that none of the little ones seem to be awake anymore, which means that Moon is most certainly only telling the story now for you. It makes you feel warm inside, but you keep your head down to hide your blush and shove another piece of the roll into your mouth.

"Then, the boy thought to make him a big, beautiful cake. But he remembered that he didn't have any of the ingredients to do so, and that the Moon couldn't eat anyways." He pauses, looking up at you and tilting his head slightly, just as you crack open your can of Fizzy Faz. Did the stupid lunar animatronic just have some wild instinct when high calorie drinks were being consumed? You had made sure you opened the can below the desk so he couldn't see, and you'd also made sure it wasn't loud enough that he could hear it from where he sat.

Still, he turns back to the sleeping children and brushes the hair out of the closest child's face as he continues reciting his tale.

"Exasperated, the boy sat down on the floor of his room and wept. He wanted to make the moon feel special on his special day, but he was running out of time! He picked up his favorite stuffed animal and asked it what he should make for the moon. The stuffed animal said nothing back, but it somehow still gave the little boy an idea. He ran to his cupboard and pulled out his sewing kit. He was going to make a hat for the moon!"

You can't help the smile that tugs at the corners of your mouth as you take a bite of one of your dumplings. Even if the story wasn't entirely true (you knew the hat was always a part of the Fazco brand outfit he wore), you could definitely picture Sun making Moon the hat that always sat upon his brother's head.

"The boy worked all the way until the sun began to set. The hat was finished, but he didn't know how to give it to the moon. He wandered back outside and stared at the sky, trying to figure out a solution. 'The tree is probably tall enough to reach the moon!' he exclaimed, and so he placed the hat on his own head and then climbed up to the tallest part of the tallest tree in his backyard. The boy placed the hat on the tip of the highest branch. He wanted to wait to see the moon's reaction to the gift, but he yawned, feeling sleepy from spending all day working hard on it. So he climbed back down the tree and went to bed.

"The next day, the boy woke up and ran outside to find that the hat was missing! He smiled to himself and felt satisfied. Surely the moon had to love his gift to him. He made it extra special and with love." Moon tilts his head and smiles down at the sleeping children, being sure to jingle the bell on the edge of his hat as he does so.

You force yourself to look back down at your food seeing that Moon was now gently standing up to make his way over to you. When the red glow of his eyes signaled his position in front of the desk, you look up at him and smile, trying to play that you hadn't just spent the last ten minutes listening to him tell a literal bedtime story.

"Did you enjoy the show, Starlight?" he muses, which only makes you choke on your bite of sushi. His face immediately turns to that of concern, reaching forward to help you. You cough a few times and hold your hands up to gesture to him that you are okay. He chuckles slightly when you finally calm down, so you shoot a glare in his direction.

"Don't you dare," you say as threateningly as you can muster, but it sounds about as threatening as a croaky voice can sound while also whispering. You know he's lingering on making some kind of joke like he always does. Still, he puts his hands up in front of him in surrender as you grab your can of Fizzy Faz and chug the last of it (though not without a protesting sigh from the jester).

Moon walks back over to your designated naptime hangout spot, and you join him once you get your lunch mess cleaned up. "That was a really sweet story," you admit as you sit down on the mat next to him. "Did Sun really make your hat?" you ask, the curiosity not having left your thoughts since you heard it.

"Oh god no," he responds, seemingly finding the notion rather funny. He then snaps his hand up to his head, which tells you that Sun is yelling at him through their shared consciousness. "But he did fix my hat for me when he saw that it was torn," he admits, shaking his head as if physically trying to jostle Sun's voice from it. "It was a long time ago now, though."

"That's so sweet," you say, smiling gently. "I wish I had someone to mend my clothes when I was younger. Could've saved me a lot of embarrassment, honestly." Moon's red eyes shift to look at you, a curious expression upon his face.

"Embarrassment?" he asks, and you feel your cheeks burn.

"Y-Yeah, I didn't exactly get new clothes often enough to afford tossing the ones I had. Even if they were torn," you admit sheepishly. Moon's head makes a few ticking sounds, as if he's processing your words slowly.

"Well, now you have me," he settles on saying, before flinching - probably due to Sun yelling again - and correcting himself. "Us. Now you have us."

You smile up at him, but feel years worth of loneliness tug at your heart, promptly forcing you to snap your head back down. There wasn't ever anyone in your corner. Dealing with things on your own was your go-to way of handling each and every problem you came across up until recently. You stare at your hands, suddenly willing tears not to fall from your stinging eyes. Moon seems to notice that something is amiss, placing a hand on your shoulder gently. But you flinch at the physical contact and lean away from him.

"I-I'm sorry," you stutter, your voice barely above a whisper. "There's uh, there must be something in my eye or- I just... I need a second."

You stand from your spot next to him and rush towards the opposite side of the daycare and into the 'pillow fort,' covering your face in your hands and struggling to hold back the sobs that threaten to spill from your throat. Why are you even crying? You're such a useless crybaby. He was only stating what you already knew. So why are you reacting this way?

You bite down aggressively on your bottom lip to try to draw your attention to the pain instead of your spiraling thoughts. You didn't need to be so dramatic about this, but for some reason hearing Moon give you such a simple sentence of confirmation of their care for you just made your inner child emotional. God, you really are broken, aren't you?

"Starlight," you hear Moon's voice gently call in through the entrance to the tent. "I meant what I said. You shouldn't have to deal with these things on your own."

On your own.

But that's always how it's been. So why should now be any different?

Even if the animatronic jesters do care about you the same way you do about them, who's to say they'll never change their minds? You've always pushed everyone away, even when things go right. Even when-

"Starlight."

Moon's hand slides under your side and pulls you into his lap, engulfing you in a hug. Your body goes rigid, unsure of what to make of this. You had been so wrapped up in your thoughts that you hadn't even noticed that he'd slipped inside the tent and knelt down next to you. His hand rubs cooling circles on your back just as it had when you were having your panic attack. But the sentiment only brings another onslaught of tears, so you bury your face into his chest and quietly sob.

"Shhh, our little star, we're here now. You're not alone anymore," he assures softly, using his other hand to brush through your hair. You can't remember the last time you've even been consoled so intimately when you cried. Kat has always been great at giving you distractions and cheering you up, but it made her uncomfortable to listen to your dark thoughts and personal traumas. So you resorted to shoving everything down and reassuring yourself regularly that you would find yourself a therapist when you had the money. And then things just kept getting worse and you lost your job, so you never got to fulfill that promise to yourself.

Your silent sobs calm down more and more until you just sit in Moon's lap, sniffling against his chest. Now that you aren't wracked with your crying fit, you can hear faint clicking and whirring sounds coming from behind Moon's chestplate, starting and pausing in a pattern reminiscent of a heartbeat. Finally, you sigh, relaxing into him as he continues to rub your back.

"Better?" he asks gently, tilting his faceplate down to look at you. You nod into his chest and wrap your arms around him, not wanting to get up just yet. "Do you want to talk about it?"

You hesitate. Should you talk to him about the things you've been through? It would probably help you to get these things off of your chest to someone, especially since you still can't afford a therapist quite yet with the catching up you're doing on your savings. But you doubt the robot was built with any level of therapy coding for the children in mind, so you worry that it might have a negative effect on his processing software.

Still, you were planning on confessing your literally crush to them sometime soon, so you might as well get comfortable with expressing your feelings now.

"Well," you start, sitting up so that you no longer have your face buried away where he can't see you properly. His red eyes stare down at you expectantly, so you turn your head away before continuing. "Like I said, I've always had to deal with things alone..."

For the next half hour, you delve into the dark corners of your past, enlightening the animatronic jester about some of your traumas. You talk about your negative self talk, your absent parents, and even go into a bit of detail about your self esteem issues. You get so wrapped up in explaining the details of why and how you are the way that you are, that you don't even notice Moon's hand gravitate to your hip, holding you steadily in place while you flail your arms animatedly.

"The hardest part about everything was the loneliness," you say, slowing your talking to look down at the grooves in your palms. "I wasn't ever taught how to do anything. I always felt like a failure, and nobody was in my dark corner to tell me to just open the curtains and let the light in." Moon's head makes the same clicky sound it had earlier as he processes your analogy. "I know that some of my habits are horrible, but I justify them by telling myself that it could be so much worse. Even though I also know that isn't how it works."

Moon brings his hands up and into yours, so you look up at him. "Starlight," he starts, but the nickname makes you look away and cut him off.

"Why do you call me that?" Your voice is harsher than you meant it to be, but you can't help it. While all of this talking has been helpful for you, there is still that stupid voice in the back of your head screaming that the brothers had absolutely no interest in you or any of the things spilling from your mouth.

Moon lists his head to the side slightly, seemingly taken aback by your sudden change of pace. "I call all of the people we care about 'starlight,'" he says, and you feel your stomach drop.

So, they really didn't care about you like that?

It was always just a nickname. Programmed into him for the children. Probably just as "Sunbite" was for his solar opposite. Did that mean that they only saw you as another child to take care of? Because you can't do any of this on your own? Because you suck at taking care of yourself? Is that why you were here and he was consoling you? Because their programming won't allow for a crying child to go unnoticed?

Moon seems to recognize the look on your face being that of the beginnings of your negative spiral, so he instead whispers your name. You can't help the way that your heart still flutters at the sound of it, which only makes tears sting your eyes again as he speaks. "Life is about balance." He lifts his hands up, teetering them up and down to simulate a scale. "There will always be bad things that happen - to you, to your friends and family, and to strangers." One of his arms drops down lower while the other raises up. "Adding onto those bad things by speaking negatively to yourself and feeding into the bad thoughts will only continue to weigh you down. But if you begin to take care of yourself-" He brings his hands back to being level. "You'll start to feel like you can handle all of the bad. But you can only do that if you allow yourself time to offload those bad things."

You stare up into the unblinking red eyes of the lunar animatronic. Balance. Like the sun and the moon. One energetic and fast paced and loud. The other leisurely and soft spoken and gentle. Maybe Moon was right. You had been so focused on all of the good things happening recently that you assumed the bad things were all gone. But in actuality, you were just ignoring them.

Embarrassment makes you suddenly well aware of your compromising position with Moon, so you scramble down from his lap and hug your knees to your chest. "I guess I still have a lot to work on, huh?" you half-joke, looking at the pillows before you.

"Doesn't everyone?" Moon counters. "Speaking of work, I'm going to go back out to the children. Feel free to join me whenever you're ready, Starlight." And with that, he leaves the pillow fort, sticking you with your own thoughts in the deafening quiet of the tent.

You feel awful. Nothing really came from the last half hour besides a sad theory and the realization that you are still not okay. And after all of the things you've been doing, it was kind of hard to believe that you hadn't been okay this whole time. You felt okay the last few days, but then this?

You check the time on your Fazwatch and decide to head out of the tent to clock back in. You still have to read the booklet on your new responsibilities with the jesters, so you make sure to grab it before rejoining Moon. Hopefully you can take your mind off of all of the freshly reopened mind wounds by learning about your new responsibilities.

"Sun was telling me that you're our new handler," he says as soon as you sit down. You roll your eyes.

"I don't actually know if this is long term or if it's temporary. So don't get your hopes up," you admit, repeating the same thing you told his opposite earlier. You flip open the first page of the instruction booklet, which is actually an entire paper full of small-scale, neat font listing the terms of a rather lengthy disclaimer. A lot of 'if you die, you can't sue us' bullshit that you really didn't care about. So you flip to the next page and are surprised to be met with an actual table of contents.

The first chapter is a fairly easy read, showing you each part of the animatronic and the respective names and functions of said part. Moon seems slightly uncomfortable at the diagrams before you, shifting his eyes away from the booklet often as if grimacing. "You know, I can continue to read this at the desk, if you'd like?" you offer, using a finger to hold your place while shutting the booklet. He hesitates.

"Well, it's not so much that I don't like that you're reading it," he says, still avoiding looking in your direction. "It's just... embarrassing, I think?" His statement sounds more like a question with the uneasy quiver of his voice, so you smile up at him gently.

"I understand completely, Moon. I couldn't imagine how vulnerable this probably makes you feel, which is why I'm offering to read it later or back at the desk." Moon just shrugs in response, so you check the page number and set the booklet aside anyways.

The rest of the naptime routine goes by normally - or, as normally as it can given that you were mentally and emotionally exhausted because of your earlier breakdown. By the time you have to clock out for the end of your shift, you feel the physical effects of having emptied all of your pent up emotions, prompting Moon to send you off with strict instructions to rest once you arrived at home.

You didn't need him to tell you that. You were obviously going to crash out as soon as your body hit the bed.

*****

A/N: Hihiii :3 Okay, when I tell y'all that this chapter was incredibly hard to write, I mean it took two weeks for me to finish it. And I still kind of hate it lmaooo

But! That doesn't matter now, does it? It's here, and I hope y'all enjoyed it! I have some more ideas in world building that will give this story a bit more depth, but ehhh I don't know if I'll apply them this late into the story. We'll see, I guess.

Anyways, stay tuned because this is the cutoff point for kinda boring setup things heheh~ As always, likes, comments, kudos, and reposts are greatly appreciated and I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Stay sweet, my lovelies~

Taglist: @senyahgirl @rose-blot @sunyandmony (message me or comment to be added!)

#fnaf #fnaf au #fnaf daycare attendant #fnaf dca #fnaf moon #fnaf sb #moondrop #fnaf sun #sundrop #daycare attendant #yandere #sun and moon x reader #sun x reader #moon x reader #yandere sundrop #yandere moondrop #yandere sun #yandere moon #kikiwritesfanfic

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whxre-bxby · 2 years

Text

Austin! Elvis x reader

(female reader)

I watched the Elvis movie and HOLY SHITTTT IT WAS AMAZING! I BALLED MY EYES OUT AND FELL HEAD OVER HEELS FOR ELVIS. FUCK HE LOOKS BEAUTIFUL IT MAKES ME WANT TO CRY

Warnings: NSFW, violence, angst, mature language, SMUT, FLUFF

I poured my heart and soul into this chapter. Enjoy all the emotions and feelings.

I worked in the circus as a performer, showing off tricks to the audience that they had never seen before so that we would get some extra tips from them on their way out. I was able to walk the tightrope but what made if special was that this rope was soaked in alcohol and halfway through, I would light it on fire with the candle I managed to balance on my head. The audience would gasp every time. Every single time. And I would get extra cash and compliments every time. I wore ballet shoes on the rope, which were wrapped in this material the owner bought, to prevent my feet from burning. I had to still dunk them into a pot of iced water after every show because the heat hurt. But not enough to burn my skin, only redden it. It was worth the money after all.

Other than that (my unique signature move) I was able to pull off the 'Fire Breather' trick and climb under and in front of a horse while it was galloping at full speed.

Let's just say, I was the reason this circus was getting all the money it was currently. My boss knew it and my coworkers too. No one doubted it or was jealous, they admired it. But my boss still liked to punish me and threaten me with him firing me when an accident would occur.

Once, while I was on the burning tight rope, someone threw something at me. That disrupted my concentration and my balance, causing me to fall forward and hold on to the rope so that I wouldn't fall. But my hands burned and the fire burned off a few layers of skin, so I fell and hurt my ankle.

I then sat in the changing room with the others who had helped me feel better by bringing me icepacks and wrapping up my burned hands with bandages. When my boss came in, he started yelling because the accident prohibited him from making the usual amount of money in one day. I just took it, refusing to argue. I was in too much pain and shock to deal with him.

After that, he worked me like a horse. Maybe even worse. During rehearsals, he went 10 times harder. I once overheard someone use the term 'like a hardcore Russian ballerina'. A ballerina whose coach was so strict, they would expect them to perform a jump twirl, land in a puddle and not create a single ripple to the surface. To land soft enough to not disturb the stillness of the water at all. That was basically what was happening to me now.

He thought a shock collar would do the trick but once he tried it on me the first time, it was so brutal even he decided I needed milder punishment. He now had a slingshot and struck sensitive areas like ankles, neck, stomach, etc.

Anyway, one day, which was meant to be like any other, turned out to be special. The owner gathered up everyone and told us Elvis Presley would be arriving today. They wanted to focus on making music here and more. He didn't tell us everything, but that itself was amazing enough.

Today, my boss and I rehearsed again. I didn't have a choice. I couldn't find a job anywhere else. I was on the tightrope which was now set even higher than before and he was yelling commands and poses at me again. Mid-session I heard cheering outside the tent and when I turned my head I got a pebble in the cheek. I immediately returned my gaze to the rope and when he asked, I swung once around it.

Suddenly, out of the corner of my eye, I saw the tent curtain open and daylight rushed in, blinding me for a few moments. I wondered who it was because no one is allowed in during rehearsals. The blinding light made me miss a step of the trick and I held on to the rope for dear life, trying to stay as still as possible. My legs were tense and stood straight in the air while I tried not to lose balance, standing upside down on this pathetically high and thin rope.

Luckily with the distraction, my boss missed that slight mistake and barked out the next order. Once I finished it, I stayed still again, hair in my face as I listened to what was to come next. Instead of him giving me another trick I heard, "Ah, Mr Presley! You finally made it. How was the trip?". My eyes widened and I fought the urge to look up at them.

"Please, call me Elvis. The whole 'Mr' thing makes me feel too important." I heard another voice chuckle. Holy shit, Elvis. He was right there.

"What's going on here?" Elvis asked, and then I heard my boss sigh.

"She's rehearsing for tonight's show. But she isn't capable of much." My boss said. Bullshit. If he were on a rope even 3 times as thick he would fall in the first second and land flattened out like a pancake. Correction, the rope would tear in half first and then he would fall.

"I'm starting to think I should get rid of you, Y/StageN" he said, loud enough for me to hear. I looked up at him with bloodshot eyes, hair covering most of my view while I managed to keep my pose. I exhaled dramatically and a hair strand flew up. There he was, threatening me like that again. He did this so often, you would think I would be used to it by now, but no. It irritates me a little bit more every time. And today, I was fed up.

Next to him, I saw three men. Two dressed in typical suits must be bodyguards and one man in a pink suit. Elvis. I knew if I looked at him for too long, I would fall (for him) off the rope so I looked back down. But in those few seconds of me looking up, we exchanged eye contact and it felt magical. His eyes looked at me in a kind way. I could tell he admired what I was doing. He was admiring me. After all, I wasn't wearing much, because training had me sweating. But I bet I looked awful now anyways...

"Three!" My boss barked and I complied. He numbered all the tricks once because he refused to call out their long names. I stood up and cartwheeled along the rope.

"Seven!" I twirled and jumped from one spot to another.

"Four!" I let my upper body drop and performed a handstand, splitting my legs once I managed to stay still. Then I heard a loud car horn right outside the tent and it made me jump. One of my hands slipped off the rope but I quickly managed to place it back before I fell. However, my boss saw that and I got a pebble in my right wrist. It stung and I bit my lip, as not to make any noise. I heard someone gasp when he did that. It was one of Elvis's bodyguards.

"Distractions can't break your concentration." My boss said again.

"What was that for?" I heard Elvis ask. He seemed surprised and confused, wondering what hell-hole he had just entered. He understood I slipped a little but to him, my boss' move was completely unnecessary.

My boss ignored it. "Five!" he yelled and I let go with my right hand, putting the area he struck in my mouth. I held myself up with only my left arm and I felt it start to shake. It would be cruel if he would wait for me to collapse. Especially because I knew I could only last another minute.

Then I felt a sudden sting in my left wrist and I yelped, but somehow managed to keep my position. I looked up at him confused. I didn't mess anything up, why did he do that?

He knew exactly why I was looking at him and grinned. "Just making sure you can hold yourself, dear." he spoke as if nothing happened. Dear. It made me want to throw up.

"Now, get up and get the torch." he demanded and I did. Why did he want the torch and not the candle? I rubbed both my wrists while going to fetch the torch. I returned with it already lit. When I looked at him next, he just nodded because he knew I knew what to do. Elvis on the other hand looked frightened by the entire situation. In his shoes, any normal person would be.

I slowly bent down, arms stretched and legs tense and I lit the rope on fire. While on fire, the rope was able to hold about 10 minutes before being burnt to crisp. I stood mid-flame, my legs warming up again, waiting for the next command. I looked at him and saw him grinning mischievously to himself.

Elvis and his men on the other hand looked terrified. Elvis' wide eyes were fixated on my feet. He must be wondering how I'm not getting burned. My boss' facial expression made me worry. What was he planning? Then, he roughly spat out my last trick.

"Now, Y/StageN. Listen carefully." he said. The hairs on the back of my neck stood straight up, and even though I stood on fire, I shivered. Worrying about what he was going to say.

"Three and Four, combined." I looked at him, eyes wide and completely speechless. I knew what he wanted. He must be feeling extra cruel today because I've never had to touch the burning rope with my hands. I think he wants them to be weak for tonight's show so that I would fall in front of everyone and he would be able to threaten me with losing my job again. The others in the room didn't know the commands so they just waited for me to do something.

I must have been thinking too long because I saw my boss pick up the slingshot again as a warning. I bit the insides of my cheeks and took a deep breath. I couldn't wait for this to be over.

I stood straight and then dropped my upper body again, performing a perfect cartwheel. It was too quick for the fire to hurt my hands. But then I landed on the rope, hands holding it and feet once again in the air. The fire was right under my face and I did my best to avoid my hair getting caught in it. My hands hurt. But it felt like a cold sting. A pain so icy it burned. And after a few seconds, I started to tremble and wobble, whining out pleads. I tried swapping hands every few seconds but it didn't help. I couldn't hold myself up anymore and I let go of the rope, letting myself drop to the floor.

The pain I felt when I hit the ground was much less than what I had just experienced. I lay there, behind the stage, clasping my hands to my chest. When I looked down I saw how red they were. You could see the flesh on my palms, but they weren't black yet.

I heard my boss sigh in disappointment. "I told you, nothing good will ever become of her."

After that, I heard ringing in my ears and every noise faded out. In the distance, I heard them argue but I was too blown away to be able to hear what they were saying. All I managed to do was lift myself off stage and go hide in the changing rooms. Two of my friends/collegues were there and I saw how they were happily chatting away. Probably discussing Elvis.

When they heard the door open they turned around and once they saw me, all sweaty, worn out and face covered in tears they ran to help me. Once they sat me down, they asked if I was alright and what happened. I was drowning in their questions but all I had to do was unwrap my arms from my waist and show them my hands. There was a silence.

"Did he make you do that?" Fred asked. I met both Fred and Angelina at the circus and we three bonded immediately. Especially because the main topic is boys. And Fred is gay, so he fits right in.

I nodded and that was all they needed to answer their many questions. I don't quite remember every detail but I know they hugged me and helped take care of my hands. This had never happened before. It was never this bad. But when it was, I was always the one to get it. He didn't abuse anyone the way he did me. And no one knew what to do about it.

I sat there, my heavy eyes closing from time to time while my hands were being tugged at from multiple sides. More and more people were coming in and I heard more gasps and sorry faces. It was all too much. I didn't want to be here anymore. I didn't want to be around that man any longer. Fred then picked me up with Angelina and they brought me outside into the daylight. It was close to sunset already. They brought me to my usual recovering area. It was behind all the caravans and tents, under a small roof. There was a hanging mat between two trees and I was placed on it carefully. Tied to my hands were ice packs, which almost couldn't be seen behind the absurd amount of bandages.

They both left after a while, to give me some quiet. They too had to rehearse for tonight.

I turned my head to the side and gazed at the landscape. It looked like a desert, with no plants or water. Just never ending dead land. How I wished I could run away. But if my boss would see me running, he would unleash both his dogs and they would sink their teeth into my legs and tug back and forth, holding me down until he would come to get me. I've seen it happen before. And guess what? He has threatened me with that too.

Suddenly I heard footsteps. They didn't echo though. I just heard the sand move in a walking pattern. I turned back around and saw the man in the pink suit again. He was looking around and when his gaze landed on me, he jogged up to where I was laying.

"H- hey. Y/StageN was it? Oh god- are you alright?" he spoke, his eyes scanning my body in a panicked matter. He looked like an angel.

"Yeah, couldn't be better..." I muttered. He looked at me apologetically. I could tell he didn't know how to respond to that. "Sorry. I'm in a mood." I mumble.

"Understandable," he replies. "My name is Elvis by the way, Elvis Presley."

I liked that he introduced himself and didn't expect everyone to know him.

"You don't say." I reply slyly, grinning through my pain. He smiled back.

"Can I uhm- get you anything, darling?" He asked. 'Darling'. I liked that nickname.

"No, it's alright. Thank you. I have everything here."

"Listen, Y/StageN, I think-" Elvis started to say, but I interrupted him.

"Y/N."

"Huh?"

"My real name is Y/N. Y/StageN is just a stage name I use." I smiled. He slowly nodded his head, running my real name over and over in his mind.

"I like that even more. It sounds beautiful." He smiles and puts his hands in his pockets.

"Thank you." I whisper.

"Anyway, I wanted to ask if that happens a lot. Because I have an offer for you, which I really hope you will take up on." He asked me, looking down at his feet. A small hair strand fell out of place and it made me want to reach up and put it back.

"Depends on what you mean. The part where he slingshots small rocks at me? Yeah, that's his way of correcting me. But he never made me touch the rope with my hands before." I say, looking away from him and up into the sky, my breathing settling with the minute.

He was about to ask me another question but I already knew the answer.

"My feet don't burn, there's protective material inside my shoes. That's how I manage to pull it off every time." I tell him, a small smile forming on my lips again. I turned to face him again and saw how he was processing all the information. I must have actually answered his question.

"Look, I don't know much 'bout you, that man or this place. But I don't know if this is the right place for you to stay. If I understood correctly, he only mistreats you? Well, if ya want to, I can uh- I can help you get out of here. " he said, stretching his arm out at the offer.

I felt my eyes light up with hope. "Really? You can do that?" I asked.

"Well, I know a place. Me and my band are on the road right now, so it ain't big, but it'll do. You can come with us." he said. "I'll treat you better than anyone in this world." Elvis said, hands on his hips and winked at me.

I felt my cheeks redden. I don't have to ask for permission to leave. I don't belong to my boss. And now, I can actually leave without worrying about being mauled by his dogs. And fuck tonight's show. I was sick of him using me as his money income.

I sat up abruptly, startling the man in front of me. "If that's really okay with you, I would love to go. Please don't leave me here. I can't stand it anymore." I spoke, sounding more desperate by the second. He crouched down to me and took one of my hands in his, seeming to not mind the bandages.

"Darling Y/N, it would be my pleasure to rescue you from this hell hole." he replied, in his charming tone, lightly squeezing my hand for reassurance. I wanted to scream in happiness.

"Can I hug you? Please?" I ask quickly. He seems confused.

"C'mere love." he mumbles softly and embraces me. I hug him tighter than I've ever hugged anyone before and bury my face into the crook of his neck. The next thing I know, I'm crying again.

He pulls away after hearing my first sob. "What's going on? Did I hurt you? Do you not want to leave? I can- "

"Happy tears Elvis. Happy tears." I whisper wiping them away and smiling.

Elvis cups my cheek and helps wipe away a new tear. I melt into his soft hands immediately. It feels like a pillow, given the fact that they are bigger than mine. "Let's go pack your bags, darling." He whispers, kissing my forehead and helping me up.

I told Fred and Angelina that I was going. They were upset but knew it would be worse if I stayed. Both of them, helped me pack my bags. Well one bag, two sets of clothes and a hairbrush. That was all that belonged to me. That was what I came here with, in the first place. I said my goodbyes in the locker rooms and made sure to avoid my boss. If I were to see him, it wouldn't be that big of a deal. It would just cause a bigger scene, and I didn't want that. The worst-case scenario I have in mind is him letting the dogs loose on me or even on Elvis before we reach the cars. Or even getting his gun. He isn't predictable, which scares me more.

I sneak out of the tent, my bag hanging from my shoulder and find Elvis waiting. When he sees me he smiles again and then his gaze drops to my bag.

"Are all your things in there?" He asks me in disbelief. I nod. "We will fix that when we're back in town." He answered with a grin and I couldn't help but smile too.

"We need to hurry. The guests for the show arrive soon. My boss likes to welcome them all personally." I tell him, constantly looking around to see if anyone had spotted us. The sun was almost completely hidden behind the dry land now. The lanterns outside the tent were lit and the moon helped us see.

Elvis nodded, then put his arm around my shoulder and we jogged to the five parked cars. Well, three cars, one bus and one caravan. We got into the second one, which was a pink Cadillac. I've seen him on posters with it. It must belong to him. Elvis ran ahead, unlocked it and opened the door for me. All the others in the other cars looked out of their windows and a few smiled and waved at me. I couldn't believe I was leaving this place. Then suddenly, I heard what I had been dreading to hear.

"Y/StageN? Y/StageN!!"

A pause.

"Y/N L/N!!! WHERE ARE YOU?!"

It was my boss. Elvis quickly helped me inside, closed my door and then ran to the driver's side of the car. He whistled at the others and in an instant, all the car lights were on and motors were starting.

The lights gave away where we were and I saw my boss, standing mid-camp. The headlights were blinding him. I heard him shout and swear as he slowly made his way to the cars. Luckily the first car started to drive and we followed right behind it.

As we did a loop, I looked out of the window and locked eyes with the man I hated for the past seven years. He looked at me, shock in his eyes. When we were distancing ourselves from him, I turned around and saw him running, screaming and throwing a tantrum.

"Jesus Christ, that man is crazy." Elvis says, not believing the scene he is watching in his mirror.

I can't even answer him, I feel sick to my stomach. I can't believe I'm finally leaving. After all these years of dreaming about who would come to get me, I realised this was the best possible outcome.

Elvis noticed my silence and glanced over a few times while trying to keep his gaze on the road.

"Hey, now don't you worry honey. You're safe here. You don't ever have to go back." he spoke in the softest most comforting voice and my body immediately started to relax once I realised he was there again. "I promise." he added and I smiled. This felt unreal.

"Thank you." I whispered in a stuttering and quivering voice. It almost sounded like a squeak. For a second I wasn't sure if he had even heard me, but when he looked and me again with his kind smile, I knew he did.

"No need honey. I could never leave a pretty little thing like you there. It'd kill me." He said. I knew he was joking around a little to help brighten my mood, but when he called me that, my tummy erupted in butterflies. I returned his smile and then Elvis carefully cupped my cheek and stroked it a few times, before returning his attention to the road ahead.

I didn't even know where we were going or what the plan was. But I knew I was in good hands, and that was all that mattered to me. And without even noticing it, I fell asleep.

I felt the cool night wind glide over my bare legs. When my eyes fluttered open, I saw I was still in my seat and the door was open. I also discovered Elvis' suit laying over my torso. He must have covered me up when he realised I was asleep. I saw a few men outside the car, discussing a few things and I was able to recognize Elvis. He was one of the taller ones. We were outside a building with a huge neon pink sign saying "MOTEL". The M was flickering on and off, irritating my eyes.

I turned my head away and looked behind the steering wheel. It was almost 2 am. Wow, I must have slept long.

The breeze makes goosebumps rise on the skin of my legs and I curl up into a ball, trying to cover all of me with the pink suit which smelled like expensive cologne. As tired as I was, I felt so safe and happy. And it made me want to thank Elvis for the rest of my life.

I closed my eyes for what was about 10 minutes but felt like 10 seconds. Then I heard Elvis' voice next to me and saw him standing outside the car, at my door. He had his hands in the pockets of his black trousers and was staring down at me in awe. I blinked a few times, having to let my eyes adjust to the flickering light of that goddamn sign again.

"I'm glad you're comfortable Y/N. But I bet you, your bed will be even better." He says, not too loud to disturb me, but loud enough so that I can hear him over the chatter of his bandmates and others. "C'mon, let's go."

"Thank you for the jacket." I mumble, offering it back to him.

"You can keep it for now," Elvis says, wrapping it around me again. "The air is cool out here."

I was about to step out of the car, but Elvis leaning inside stopped my movements. He carefully slid a hand under the back of my knees and one behind my back. Once he had a good grip, he lifted me up with ease and carried me out of the car. I still had my bag around me so that didn't get lost. Elvis then pushed the car door closed with his hip and started to carry my sleepy self to the building.

"You don't have to carry me. I'm too heavy, really-" I start to say, not wanting him to feel obliged as a gentleman to carry me and then suffer under my weight.

"Shhh. You're speaking nonsense honey, you're tired. Let me do this for you." He says and I can feel the vibration of his voice in his chest before he speaks it. I just simply nod and snuggle closer against him.

What I didn't know was that Elvis knew the carrying was unnecessary. He just really wanted to show me what a gentleman he is and used it as an excuse to have me closer to him. When I relaxed against him and held onto his arm, he felt a sense of joy and pride in his chest. He wished at this moment that he wasn't in a secluded area in a state, the name of which he forgot. He wanted to walk the streets of Vegas or any other busy city or town and show off that he was the one providing you with this much comfort.

Then again, he was pleased that there were no crowds forming around him. No people snapping pictures right in his face or asking him questions about who you were, why you were with him etc. They would probably assume he was taking you to bed.

Elvis did this a lot on tours. Letting some random girl into his room and then sleeping with her.

But he didn't want that to happen with you. To him, you were more than just a fan who thought he looked good. He had helped you and that had created an emotional connection between the two of you. A connection, he only ever would want to nourish and strengthen. Something he never had with anyone before and something he didn't want to have with anyone else but with you. He didn't know whether this was what people called true love or friendship. He had good friends, but nothing like this had ever happened. Elvis himself didn't know what he was feeling at that moment. But he knew he liked you and promised himself the second he saw you laying outside, recovering, that he would do anything in his power to protect you.

His thoughts had come to an end when he arrived at the door of his room. Rather his and my room. He somehow managed to grab the key and unlock the door while still holding me.

Once he entered the room, closed the door and turned on the lights, Elvis started to search for the bed. When he found it, I was gently placed on it. He then took his suit and went to hang it up. A few minutes later, a man came in and brought the luggage. This was all happening while I was half asleep.

Later, Elvis came to me and gently shook me. I opened my eyes again and saw he was offering me some clothes. I slowly sat up.

"Here. In case you don't want to sleep in your clothes."

I smiled. "Thank you." He smiled and sarcastically bowed, before turning around and closing the bedroom door, letting me change in private. That made my smile widen. I knew it was the bare minimum, but it was still nice.

When I changed, I felt thirsty and walked outside the room, into the main area. I saw Elvis, half laying on the couch. His legs were dangling off the edge and when he heard the door open, he turned his head to me.

"Sorry," I whisper, seeing he dimmed the lights. "I'm thirsty." I say and walk to the kitchen, turning the tap on and drinking straight from it without a glass. Behind me, Elvis was grinning. He remembered how he used to always do that. When I turned the water off and turned around, it only then hit me that he took the couch because I was in the bed. I wiped my mouth from the droplets.

"Oh, I'm sorry I didn't realise there was only one bed. We can switch, I might fit on the sofa. I'll go grab my things." I say, heading to my bedroom, but then Elvis speaks up.

"Don't worry about it, darling. I want you to have a goodnight's sleep. You deserve it more."

Wow, Elvis Presley was giving up a big bed for me. I was about to protest but before I could, Elvis said, "In fact, I insist on sleeping here. And I demand that you sleep on the bed."

I smiled at him. "Well, I guess your wish is my command, kind sir." I joke. He chuckles lightly. "Thank you, Elvis. So much. For everything."

"Honey, you need to do less thanking and more sleeping. Off you go."

I giggle and then leave the room, snuggling up into my bed and falling asleep.

I was woken up in the night again. The same hand that carefully shook me awake before, was doing it again now. I sat up and opened my eyes, to see Elvis next to my bed, looking concerned.

"Y/N are you okay? I heard you crying and screaming." He whispered, turning on the nightstand lamp on my left. Just then did I realise, my cheeks were hot with tears and I was sweating. I must have had a nightmare. They happened often.

"I'm fine. Sorry did I wake you?" I ask, rubbing my eyes.

"Not really no. Anyway, if you need anything, you know where to find me." Elvis said, about to turn the light off and walk away.

"Wait-" I say, before even thinking about my words. Elvis looks up at me", his beautiful eyes almost making me forget what I was wanting to say.

"Could you maybe stay? Please? I hate having nightmares..." I say, looking down at my feet before back up to him.

Elvis couldn't believe it. It was like his silent prayers had been answered. Not only did he get to know sleep in a bed, but he also got to sleep next to you. You wanted him there and he would never say no to that. He would protect you from anything.

"With pleasure." He smiled, turning the light off and walking to the other side of the bed. I felt the mattress dip as Elvis settled in next to me.

"Thank y-"

"Shh." he shushed me "I don't want to hear it. This is my pleasure Y/N, you don't need to thank me. Now sleep well darling. I will ensure that nothing happens to you."

"Okay, goodnight Elvis."

"Sweet dreams Y/N." he whispered back. I scootched a little closer to him and returned to sleep.

That night, I slept better than I had in months. The bed was so much more comfortable than the bunk beds with thin mattresses I was used to. And I felt so safe, I could finally let my guard down and relax. I had not a worry in the world.

Elvis felt like he was floating on clouds. He didn't know why sharing a bed with you made him so happy, but he loved it. Listening to your slow breathing and occasional tossing and turning helped him relax. He never slept well when he was travelling. He didn't think the bed was extremely comfortable. But if you were to ask him to sleep next to you, outside on the cement road, he would do it. And he would probably even manage to fall asleep.

We were both awoken by a loud knocking noise at the door. It shocked us both and we sat up almost in synch.

"What the hell.." Elvis groaned before getting up out of bed and walking to the door. I was too tired to listen and tried falling back asleep.

Turns out, Elvis and I both slept in. And Elvis had to perform today, meaning we had to be on the road to prepare everything for his show. I wasn't any help in that.

We both got ready and left the room 10 minutes after waking up. Everyone entered the vehicles again. This time, I sat at the back of the car and a man sat in my previous spot. He was filling Elvis in about the details of tonight, while we were heading to our destination. Breakfast was given to everyone before the drive and I was currently devouring mine in the backseat, gazing out of the window. I ate sandwich after sandwich until I was stuffed and felt like sleeping again. God, I was being spoiled here. I loved it though, definitely not complaining.

After finally arriving in the busy city, a few people recognized the pink Cadillac and the squealing and commotion kept me awake. I thought it was funny how many hearts Elvis had stolen with his music. It was incredible. After giggling a few times, when girls would throw themselves at the moving car Elvis chuckled and said "Welcome to my life, darling."

We arrived at this huge building. Apparently, it was a hotel and Elvis had his own stage in it. When we stopped, the others started to unpack the cars while Elvis was being followed by people with cameras, the flashing lights around him almost drowning him out of reality.

I got out and felt a little lost. I didn't know where to go or what t do, and everyone seemed busy so I just stayed by the car.

Before Elvis was pulled somewhere, I heard him call out my name. My gaze shot up and he was waving me over, roughly pushing through the crowd. When he reached me, I started to get my own taste of flashing lights.

"Come with me, let's go inside. They can't follow us in there." he said going in to grab my hand but then correcting himself and guiding me with an arm around my shoulder again. I couldn't help but look around, amazed but also discomforted by the number of people around us, occasionally yelling out questions.

When we finally reached the entrance and walked inside, we were guided to our rooms.

Elvis basically dropped me off there, after showing me around and making sure everything was alright. He had to start rehearsing for the show and making sure everything was as planned etc.

I spent the rest of the day, wandering the never-ending halls of the hotel, occasionally passing people who sent me bad looks. I must not fit the dress code, I assumed. I had changed into my old clothes in the morning.

By the time it hit 6pm, I returned to my room. When I walked to the bed I was surprised. There were three dresses displayed along the sheets with a little note.

'Got you something pretty for tonight. Choose one. I hope you like them. We can go shopping for more tomorrow.

P.S: Be ready by 7 pm.

-EP'

My heart melted. He was so sweet. Out of all the options I liked the one in the middle the best. It was simple but not boring. The others were either too revealing or too colourful and glittery. And beside the bed there was a pair of shoes and a small purse, fitting all the dresses.

I freshened up and put my dress on, feeling like a princess. I decided to brush my hair and make myself look presentable with anything I had.

When 7 hit, I heard a knock on my door. A friendly-looking man stood at the door as I opened it and smiled.

" I see you are ready to go, miss. Please, would you be so kind as to follow me." He said before turning around and starting to walk.

I quickly scurried after him, trying not to trip in my new heels. Everything I had on looked expensive. I wouldn't want to ruin or break it in any way.

We took the elevator 10 floors down and arrived at the stage.

"Mr Presley picked a special seat for you. Right, this way."

I smiled. I had never been to a concert before. I only ever dreamed of it. This had me so excited I wanted to squeal like the other girls.

I was sitting on the second floor, looking down at the stage, one the side. Very few people were up here. Everyone was downstairs. The producers and people coordinating the show lights stood there with me. The curtains were drawn and the audience patiently waited for any sign of life behind them so they could cheer.

Once they opened, my heart skipped a beat. Elvis walked on stage from the side and I scooted forward, to see him better.

He performed fantastically. Every song was beautiful and I enjoyed every moment of it. Then, another surprise awaited me. As we neared the end of the concert, Elvis addressed his last song.

"Listen up folks. I have decided to add another song to the show tonight. I wrote this one almost a year ago because I was told I had to have a song about love in my album, otherwise it wouldn't get bought. I never understood the lyrics even though I had written it myself." He chuckled, scratching the back of his neck.

"But I recently met a very special person, and reading through the words of this song earlier today, reminded me of them. I just knew I had to sing this for you, my darling Y/N." he said and my eyes shot open. My mouth dropped when he locked eyes with me and pointed up. People started looking up and I tried to hide from their searching eyes by moving a little bit away from the edge. He just grinned and then the music started to play.

The girls at the front seemed to ignore what he just said and imagined it was for them, squealing at every romantic part and some even had teary eyes. But throughout most of the song, Elvis was just looking at me and I was completely hypnotised. His song was beautiful and made me realise how much I liked it. At first, I wasn't sure whether I just liked him the way the girls down there did. But I realised that I enjoyed spending time with him, no matter how much money or fame he had. He was the first person I ever felt safe around. He helped me understand myself and be me. And when his song finished and he blew a kiss up to me, I realised I was deeply in love with him.

After that, the show ended and Elvis stepped behind the curtains. The lights in the audience hall went on and men started dragging their girlfriends home.

I stood up and followed the kind man again. He told me Elvis needed to still sort a few things out and that he would be up in the room shortly. So I followed him back upstairs.

Once I got into the room, I just sat down at a desk which faced the huge window. I watched the nightlife in what I was told was Vegas. I watched the cars move and tiny people walk. The lights of shops lit up the streets and the car park of the hotel had a line of cars, leaving after the concert. There was a huge sign by the hotel, saying 'ELVIS' which was lit up too, shining in shades of gold and red.

After a few minutes of still and silent gazing, I zoned out, replaying what just happened in my mind over and over again.

Elvis sang a song for me.

I was special to him.

It was a romantic love song.

That means he likes me. Romantically.

Does he know that I like him? Am I that obvious?

No, how could he? I didn't know until now either.

My heart pounded in my chest and my stomach was filled with a warm feeling. He is so pretty and wonderful oh god. What am I going to do?

Just then, the front door opened and I turned around swiftly. Elvis walked in, a small towel in his hand, wiping off the sweat from his forehead. His perfectly styled hair was not in place anymore. A few strands were hanging down on his face and the clothes he wore showed the top of his chest. Fuck, I am so screwed.

"Evenin' sweetheart." Elvis said, smirking at me. He threw the towel behind him and stood by the door, looking at me.

"Hey..." I say softly. I didn't know whether to thank him for the song or not. And if yes, how to say it or express it. This has never happened before so I was struggling to deal with the situation.

"Did ya' like the show?" he asked, grinning at me. My cheeks flushed in seconds and I had to look away but he saw my reaction.

"Baby I can see you and your cute rosy cheeks." He continued to talk, starting to walk up to me. I blushed even harder at the new name he gave me. Elvis softly put his hand under my chin and guided my head up so that I was looking at him again. He was towering over me, while I watched him with wide eyes. "Does this mean you liked my song?" he asked, his grin turning into a smile. I couldn't form words so I nodded slowly. His smile widened again.

"Yeah? How about you tell me that darlin'. " His eyes continued to flicker between mine, watching every inch of my reaction.

"I liked your song. It was beautiful, thank y-" I whispered before being cut off. He placed a finger over my lips.

"No thanking. As I said, honey. I love doing this for you." he told me before taking both my hands and pulling me from my chair.

"How about the dress? You like the dress?" he asked me, scanning my body in the expensive fabric.

I nodded again. "I love the dress." I softly say, completely mesmerized by him.

His eyes meet mine again. "You look beautiful in it, honey." He then raised my left hand and twirled me around, to show the dress from all sides. "Such a pretty little thing you are."

I didn't know it was possible but I blushed even harder, pressing my lips together and looking down. I heard him chuckle. "You haven't heard that enough I'm assumin'. " he cupped my cheek and ran his thumb over my cheekbone gently. "You could be my pretty lil' thing. My girl. I'd take care of you better than anyone ever could."

My eyes widened a little in shock. I opened my mouth to say something, but no words came out.

"You love the dress?" he asks again. I nod. "Anything else you love, sweetheart?"

Elvis needed confirmation on everything. While he knew he looked good, he wanted to hear it all from you. To him, you were all that mattered and he needed to know what you thought of him.

I couldn't hold myself back anymore. I had to let it all out. "You... Elvis, I think I love you..." I tell him. It almost sounded like a whisper and it came out way more desperate than intended. It was getting hard to breath. I couldn't form full sentences anymore.

Elvis' eyes lit up. Joy started forming and kept growing by the second. "Why's that?" he asked, slyly. Elvis took advantage of the effect he had on me and wanted to squeeze out everything that was on my mind. By now, clouded mind.

"You... helped me. So nice, to... me. Generous..." I say, mumbling out everything I possibly could. "So pretty..." I added and he grinned again. His face was beautiful, his long eyelashes looked magical. And the fact that he was comfortable wearing make-up and clothes some might describe as feminine only added to my attraction to him. He was comfortable with his own masculinity. He was happy with himself and fuck he was perfect like that.

I slowly raised my hand and tried to brush a strand of hair, back in its place. "So pretty..." I repeated, letting my hand fall lower and rest on his chest. When I locked eyes with him again, I noticed a difference. The atmosphere had shifted. His eyes looked at me in a different way. Before he was teasing me and adoring my reactions, which to him were cute. Now, he looked... almost hungry for something. His eyes were a little darker and his pupils slightly more dilated than before.

Him looking like this turned me on so much. I clenched my thighs slightly, trying to hide how wet I was getting. But his eyes shot straight to them and he noticed my movement. I froze under his stare and he closed his eyes, letting out a shaky breath. His whole body was tense.

I watched him clench his jaw and fists over and over again, trying to get some self-control. But I didn't want that, I wanted him. I was never the type of person to initiate this or do the first move, but I needed him so badly, that I couldn't help myself.

While Elvis was concentrating, his nostrils flared, breathing much heavier than before. I stepped right in front of him and pressed my body against his. My hands slid back up to his chest and I watched as his eyes shot open a watched my movements. He was a few seconds away from breaking. I just needed to give him one last push.

"Elvis..." I whisper, peering up at him with my best doe eyes. His breathing hitched at how seductive it sounded and he subconsciously held his breath.

"Kiss me..."

His pupils widened again but he wasted no time and did as he was told. Elvis cupped my cheek and leaned down, pressing his lips against mine. I immediately kissed back and wrapped my arms, loosely around his neck. The hand on my cheek moved to the back of my head, holding me in place by my hair while the other snaked around my waist and pulled me closer to him. There was no space in between us now. We held each other as if there was someone trying to rip us apart.

I never wanted this moment to end. When we pulled away, he pressed his forehead against mine and we gazed into each other's eyes while regaining our breath.

"Y/N I love you so much, darling. Please, be my girl. I'm crazy about you honey." Elvis said, sounding as desperate as I did a minute ago.

"Yes, yes yes yes. Thousand times yes." I say with a shaky breath before we connect our lips again. Elvis picks me up this time, holding me by my lower back and thighs, wrapping them around himself. He walked us over to the bed we slept in and slowly bent down, gently placing me onto the soft bed. We broke apart and I climbed to the top of the bed. He stood at the end of it and he stripped down the first layer of clothing he wore. Now he was just in his slightly transparent lace shirt and pants. Elvis then crawled up to me, stopping once he was hovering above me and giving me another kiss, before slowly trailing them down my jaw and neck. I slid my fingers into his thick hair, gently holding his head while he sucked and bit down on the skin above my collarbone.

"Are you okay with this?" he asked me, playing with the strap of my dress.

"More than okay." I breathe out and he smiles, slowly pulling the straps down my shoulders. Elvis then reached behind my back and unzipped my dress. He then helped me scoot it down my body and I had to bite my lip not to moan when his fingers brushed past my abdomen and thighs. The expensive dress was thrown to the other side of the room and when Elvis looked back at me, I saw his eyes widen. I was laying in front of him in only my underwear (which came with the dress, very smooth Elvis) and it seemed to leave him speechless.

I blushed and squirmed under his eyes and he chuckled lightly. "You're so beautiful." he told me, kissing me again.

My arms started to fondle with his shirt and I slipped my hands under the fabric, running them along his back. Elvis got the message and pulled away, taking it off. My hands worked on his belt and he grinned at me, watching my small hands try to undo his glamourous complicated belt.

"Eager are we?" he teased but I couldn't care less.

"I need you..." I breathe out. Elvis replaces my hands with one of his and unbuckled the belt, pulling it out of the rings of his pants with one swift move. I missed his lips again so we kissed, much deeper this time. My hands successfully started to unbutton his pants while he skillfully unhooked my bra.

His hands reached for my breasts and he massaged them while mumbling into my ear how beautiful I looked and how much he loved me. He kissed between the valley of my breasts while cupping one and I let out a soft moan, arching my back into him.

The sound I released drove him wild. He had heard a woman moan before but this was magical. He couldn't wait to pull more sounds out of you.

Both of you grew impatient and couldn't bare the teasing anymore. Elvis looked up at me while slowly pulling my panties down my legs, checking for any sign of discomfort or regret. When he shed my last piece of clothing, I tugged at his last piece. That came right off and when I looked between us, I almost gasped. Holy shit he was bigger than I expected. Not just that but his dick was thick and had a few veins running along the sides, it made my mouth water.

"Don't worry honey, I'm all yours." Elvis tells me, smiling to himself. I bite my lip and look up at him. A dirty thought crossed my mind and what better time to do it than now?

While Elvis was hypnotized by my naked body, I reached in between us and gently wrapped my hand around his dick. His breath got caught in the back of his throat and his mouth slightly dropped open. He looked down before back up at me. His pupils were almost twice the size now and he seemed intoxicated by his lust for me.

I felt his pulse on him and it was increasing rapidly, so I decided to please him a little. I carefully stroked him up and down a few times, then tightened my grip slightly and resumed my previous actions. Elvis was panting in the crook of my neck and I watched his back tense and biceps flex, fighting the urge to thrust up into my hand.

I took my time with him, amazed by everything he did and every sound he made.

Suddenly I felt one of his hands on my thigh and he slowly moved it higher and higher until he reach my pussy. His fingers then made contact with my hot, wet skin and he started to rub me between my folds. I gasped out in shock and pleasure and pumped him faster. Elvis pushed two of his fingers into me without warning and we both became moaning messes. His fingers felt amazing inside me but I needed more than that. He stopped his movements, making me pull my hand from him.

"I want to finish inside you, darlin'. " he whispered and I nodded, whining in anticipation.

I spread my legs and he lowered his his in between them, our crotches making contact. Elvis rubbed his dick between my folds. "You're so wet for me, baby."

"Elvis please." I whine needily.

"Okay, okay. You're okay with this, honey?" he asks me for reassurance.

"Yes. So okay, just please do someth-" I'm cut off by Elvis slowly pushing his tip into my entrance. I forget how to breath for a second and then he pushes himself all the way inside, bottoming out completely. We both moan in sync. I arch my back again, pressing my chest against Elvis' and he lets his head drop down to the crook of my neck again, his hot breath becoming moist on my skin.

Elvis started to slowly move and fuck he felt so good.

"So- so tight, baby." he moaned in absolute bliss.

"Oh god." I whimpered, closing my eyes in pleasure. He speeded up his movements and the harder he thrust into me the better it felt. My nails trailed down his back and when he hit my g-spot I dug them into his back.

"Elvis, don't stop." I moaned. His thrusts became sloppier and less precise, signalling he was close to his climax. My stomach felt like it was tightening around me. Elvis felt it too.

After a few more thrusts, I was blown away by the intense pleasure and was convinced I was in heaven. Ironic really if you think about how sinful this situation really is. Elvis thrust into me one last time before freezing and staying buried deep inside me. I felt him fill me up. His mouth was hanging open while my eyes rolled to the back of my head. I haven't felt this pleasure in so long.

Once we both came down from our high, Elvis stayed inside me and slowly let himself drop onto me. We were both so out of breath we couldn't talk. I let one of my hands gently rub over the scratch marks I left on his back and the other was in his hair, massaging and scratching his scalp.

"You're amazing." Elvis whispered after a few seconds.

I smiled in response. "I love you, Elvis."

"I love you too baby." he replied and then slowly got up, pulling out in the process. He walked over to me and gently picked me up bridal style, walking us both to the bathroom.

"What are you doing?" I asked him.

"I'm taking care of my girl." he smiled down at me before running us both a bath.

I never wanted to leave him. And I didn't plan on doing so. I was happy for the first time in ages.

#elvis presley x y/n #elvis movie #elvis presley #fanfiction #fanfic #austin butler #smut #fluff #austin elvis x reader #austin elvis imagine #y/n #elvis #elvis 2022 #baz luhrmann elvis

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flowerslut · 1 month

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shamefully despite how easily i am influenced i have not made my way through your ao3 catalogue. where would be a good starting point? (licking kink not required but always appreciated)

wow thanks for giving me an excuse to make a compilation of my (shorter) twilight fics that I want more people to read!!!!! ok ok so all my best favorite ones (minus call of the night. we are pretending call of the night does not exist, okay? dont think about it. dont even look at it) are my mid-length ones. now, first and foremost: I am an angst writer, and boy do I love to whump on alice and jasper, so in no particular order, you should read these fun little jalice fics while you wait for me to update roots over the next few weeks/months

North Star

rated: M words: 20,336 chapters: one-shot summary: "He’s the Eye of the South. The god of war. Master of battle and oracle of death. He’s not just the most dangerous weapon the world has ever seen, but he’s a man in love. And combining those two just makes this so much worse. Jasper sees a girl in his head, and he's afraid of what comes next."

thoughts: okay i lied, they are in a particular order. or at least this one is. this is my favorite twilight fic I've written (I think) and I got dramatic as fuck with it. written for jalice week back in 2021, the prompt was "power/ability swap" and you get exactly that: jasper is the psychic, alice is the empath, everything else is the same... or is it? this is also notably the first fic I ever sent to someone (g, obviously) to look over/give corrections to, so that might be why it has fewer stupid grammatical/sentence structure issues than most of my other stuff (minus roots). content warning for physical abuse, implied sexual assault, and mild sexual content. (also on ff.net)

The Almost Quiet

rated: T words: 10,365 chapters: one-shot summary: "He wants to blame loneliness, but maybe this is what was meant for him all along. A long road that leads to a depressing end. Longing after a girl he doesn’t know whose mind is lost."

thoughts: the last line of this fic is my personal favorite one I've written in recently memory! anyways this is an all-human AU, (sort of). in 1920, alice and jasper meet as humans and jasper's job gets much harder after that. this one is far from the best on this list, but it's entertaining, angsty, and has a satisfying ending imo. content warning for forced institutionalization and ableist language. (also on ff.net)

Déjà-rêvé

rated: T words: 6,551 chapters: one-shot summary: "It's nothing Alice had ever seen. It was no vision, no dream. It was only a possibility that had haunted the back of her mind like a nightmare for as long as she'd known what was out there for her to fear. Jasper had never known about this fear until it became their reality."

thoughts: this is the shortest one on this list, and since you like roots, you'll probably like this. its vaguely similar in that it's a whumpy post-breaking dawn AU, but this is only a snippet of an aftermath in which alice loses her power. wrote it for secret santa 2022 and had a BLAST with it. (if you want more whumpy one-shots my ao3 is chock full of whumptober prompts)

No Friend of Mine

rated: T words: 15,199 chapters: one-shot summary: "He contemplates telling Peter about Alice’s visits, but something holds him back from doing it. Perhaps because it doesn’t feel like Alice whenever she’s lying on his bedroom floor, curled in an old blanket that’s too small for him but perfectly sized for her, utterly still and silent even while awake. A part of him feels like it would be a betrayal to reveal this side of her to someone even as close to him as Peter is. After all, Peter is his friend. And Alice is… well, not."

thoughts: I think this fic is severely underrated, but maybe that's because I literally came up with the concept and wrote it over the course of a day and a half or something insane like that, and I think that for a hastily written secret santa gift from 2020, it holds up sooo well. it's an all-human AU where alice is the weird new girl, and like always, jasper is in way over his head. all the cullens get a role, it has the 'fluffiest' moments, and its faaaantastic. content warning for child abuse.

The Hunted

rated: T words: 26,664 chapters: 11 summary: "It's not so wise if you try to run."

thoughts: this one is the most self-indulgent (with the most questionable characterization tbh) based on g's post from 2019 that says 'twilight, but when bella slips away from jasper and goes to the ballet studio to meet james, he isn’t there. he waited until everyone split up in the airport, and then went for alice instead. in the ensuing chaos, while everyone is freaking out, victoria grabs bella.' this is the only one on the list I might take a look at in the future to rewrite chunks of, but it's great fun your honor. ignore what anyone else tells you about the ending. but make sure to keep this short sequel/epilogue handy, for... reasons. (also on ff.net)

A Loyal Wife

rated: M words: 21,930 chapters: 5 summary: "Alice is only a Lady because she was forced to be one. She much rather preferred being untitled. Just a constant in this strange family of women. Girls both grown and not, betrothed to the man who protects and spoils them. Quickly the newborns realize that Alice is more weapon than wife, and that suits her just fine."

thoughts: last but certainly not least is my attempt at 'jalice enemies-to-lovers' that I wrote over the course of two days while on vacation. this story has everything: southern wars, a marriage cult, weird power dynamics, and [checks notes] trying to seduce your enemy mid-fight. this is another one of my favorites, and maybe the messiest (affectionate) as far as story content goes (of course, minus roots). content warnings for sexual assault/dubious consent.

#jalice #twilight fanfiction #alice cullen #jasper hale #no but seriously if you haven't read call of the night just hold off on it for now #the entire series is like half a million words rn but the beginning is SO POORLY DONE that i always wish I could make it like.#invisible to people on AO3 until I can fix it. that way I can CONTINUE the series #the fic/series as a whole is hashtag Good but you can just TELL the fist 20-50k was written by a high school kid. bc it was #thats on me for not editing well enough back in 2017/18

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a-kookie-with-my-tae · 2 months

Text

Befallen: Chapter 2

Pairing: Idol!Jungkook x Music Producer!Reader

Genre: Fluff??

Word Count: 2.7K

Warnings: Jimin is that annoying best friend, Y'N is in denial, all the drama just because

A/N: I'm so sorry this was out late! My computer died on me and it set me back a bit. So, that being said, this next chapter is gonna be a couple days late as well. I'm gonna try my best to get back on track as quickly as possible. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy it!

Masterlist

Effervescent: Lively, full of energy, bubbly.

The smile Jimin dawns hasn't left his face since we left the studio a few hours ago. Joy so obviously adorning his soft features. Although he wears a mask it's easy to tell, his eyes squinting so much it makes me wonder how he sees the sidewalk in front of us. It feels as if a insurmountable weight has lifted from my shoulders as I pull my mask down to my chin, taking a sip of my tea and chewing lightly on some of the tapioca pearls that come through the straw. Jimin and I's boba tea are similar yet so different, just like our personalities. While we both went for cold milk tea with no ice, mine was banana with tapioca pearls while his was coconut with aloe jellies. A weird combination on his part, but aloe apparently has healing properties and he's all about that. I'm not the one that has to drink it - except the one time he made me try it and I made him vow to never again make me taste his drinks after that experience - so I don't pay mind to it.

He hasn't stopped gushing about the song that I showed him, ultimately claiming it as his own and running through ideas for it at a mile a minute. I didn't even know he could talk that fast. He's so enthused and focused on his ideas that he hasn't even touched his drink since we left the cafe, which is unheard of when it comes to him. Usually he gulps that thing down in the first couple minutes of having it, then complains when he has nothing left to drink and ultimately goes back to get another one. I smile to myself at him, butterflies fluttering through my chest in a much different way than they were earlier. I'm nervous, but at the same time, the excitement at the prospect is greater.

Ideas for it flow through my own mind as we walk, the suggestion from Jungkook on the front of it, distracting me from my own.

It's not a bad idea. Especially with Jimin's soft vocals, it would pair nicely. It would sure be a lot different from what he has put out in the past, but the boy likes to change up his vocal style like its a sport. No two songs of his have ever sounded alike, and this would fit in with that theme.

He goes on about how he's torn between themes, whether he wants to talk about the the fear of stardom or the fear of losing someone. Either way, he wants it to be a meaningful message. I focus on the two themes, running through different sets of lyrics to see which one would fit better, but I'm also at a loss.

"Ugh, this is so hard!" Jimin throws his hands up in the air in exasperation, grabbing the attention of a few of the other people in the street at the dramatic display. "I don't know how to decide..."

"Maybe you should ask one of the other members?" I suggest, knowing that a few of his hyungs have production experience and have produced a few albums on their own already.

"No, this has to be something I decide on my own." Jimin says with determination permeating his features. He slows his walk and I see him starting to get in his own head. He tends to do that a lot, overthink. Jimin, although one of the most talented and hard-working individuals I know, is somewhat of a walking contradiction. He exudes confidence in everything he does, but at the same time is more self-conscious than anything. He doesn't like to show it, but he's harder on himself than anyone else could possibly be. Always overthinking every move he makes, a perfectionist at heart. Especially when it comes to himself.

"You know, there's nothing wrong with asking for help." I try to reason with him, attempting to break him from the inevitable spiral that will happen if he is left to his thoughts. "After all, aren't I helping you with it?"

He pauses for a moment to think, his eyebrows creasing. We walk in silence for a few seconds before he speaks softly, but each syllable is coated with conviction.

"That's different..." he starts, "we are making this together. If I ask them... it just proves that I can't do it on my own."

Jimin avoids my eyes as says this, his competitive nature showing through. He always wants to be the best version of himself that he can be, sometimes near destroying himself in the process. I want to argue, say that it's not a weakness to rely on others to help. But I don't, knowing full and well that it wouldn't change his mind. He's very stubborn when it comes to this, so I don't push it. I think for a moment before an idea pops in my head.

"Well... why don't you just do both?"

He looks at me, puzzled. "How would that work?"

"Didn't you say you were thinking about putting out an English version as well for your international fans?"

He raises an eyebrow at me skeptically. "Yes...?"

He trails off, waiting for me to continue.

"Just make the English version one theme, and the Korean version the other."

His eyes widen in realization. "Oh my God, yes! That's perfect! I have so many ideas... we have to go back to the studio!"

He grabs my arms and faces me toward him, almost shaking me with his excitement.

I smile and laugh lightly, happy that he's so enthralled at the idea.

"How about we go back tomorrow? It's already 9PM and you have an early practice tomorrow. We can work on it first thing after you're done, I promise." I stick my pinky finger out at him, smiling softly. Pinky promises are pretty much sacred between the two of us, so offering it eases pretty much any skepticism that he might've had.

"Ugh... fine." He says dramatically with a roll of his eyes, knowing he wouldn't win this argument as he intertwines his tiny pinky with mine. "Sleep is unnecessary anyway... but whatever."

I shake my head at him before starting to walk back toward the company building. After stopping at the cafe down the street, we decided to walk a little bit before heading back. The fresh air was refreshing after spending all day couped up in the studio.

"Did you want a ride home?" I ask as we near the parking lot, digging in my cross-body purse for my keys.

"No, thanks." He says before dawning a teasing smile. He pauses for dramatic affect before continuing. "Kook is actually giving me a ride home."

My face instantly flushes at his words, the moment from earlier coming to the forefront of my mind. The smirk on Jimin's face widens at the sight of my red cheeks.

"So... what happened earlier before I came in? You guys seemed... close." He teases.

I purse my lips at him. "Nothing! He just barged in randomly when I was working. I don't even know why. He just starting talking and messing with my track." I try my best to fake annoyance at it, but Jimin sees right through it.

"Yeah... sure."

We arrive at my car and he leans against the passenger door as I put my bag in the back seat.

"You look awfully flushed for someone who is acting all annoyed." He pushes.

"Whatever." I say with a roll of my eyes, heart beating ever so slightly faster. I've never been the best liar, especially around Jimin. He always seems to know what I'm thinking, able to read my face like a book no matter how hard I try to mask it.

"You know... I could totally ask him what happened. I'm sure he'd tell me."

I wonder if he felt it, too...

I quickly shake the thought out of my head before shutting the door to my car in finality.

"Do what you want, but nothing happened." I state firmly.

"Fine, I won't ask. But I know that something happened between you two. You could cut the tension in that room with a knife." He glances to the side at me before continuing. "But just so you know... Jungkook is different. When he likes someone, he doesn't mess around. And that boy is more stubborn than me, he always gets what he wants. So if that's you..."

"Then, he should prepare for disappointment. You know how I feel about all that... and I don't think we will have to worry about it. There's no way Jungkook feels something for me, we met for like 2 minutes. You can't like someone that fast." I shrug off Jimin's words. The man we speak of is basically untouchable. Unreachable by my mere human hands. He's like a god, an Adonis, and the fact that Jimin thinks even remotely that a man like that could have any sort of feelings for me makes me wish insane asylums still existed, because this boy really needs to be checked in.

"I don't know..." Jimin trails off before looking off to the side. He leans up and off of my car before zeroing his eyes in on it. He stares for a moment before smirking, the twitch of his mouth as quick as lightning before the stoic expression resumes on his features. "I've never even seen him really talk to a girl, even our stylists. So the fact that he was comfortable talking to you and standing so close...."

He turns back toward me. "Not to mention he looked mighty jealous when he found out we knew each other."

"No he didn't." I roll my eyes, yet again brushing off the words of the insane man next to me. My mind is made up. Even if the very unlikely scenario that he proposes is true, it wouldn't matter. I don't care how great of a guy Jimin says he is, at the end of the day all men are the same. If you let yourself fall in love, you'll only get hurt. It may not be about sex, or love, or money. But some way some how, it'll happen. I'm done with setting myself up for disappointment. I'm tired. So, I continue on after a moment, indifference coating my every syllable as I try and fail to fool Jimin into believing my facade. "He was just surprised you knew me. It makes sense, since I've never worked with you guys before."

He sighs deeply before his shoulders drop in acquiesce. I avoid making eye contact with him. I know that if I do, he'll be able to read all the bullshit I'm spewing and I'm not quite ready to admit that to myself. I don't know if I'll ever be. "I'm just saying. Don't close yourself off to the idea. I know how you feel about... well... boys in general. But he's different. Just... think about it." He turns to give me a hug.

"Anyway, JK has been standing over there glaring at me for a few minutes, so I better go." He says with a laugh, causing me to shoot my eyes in the direction he was focusing on earlier.

Jungkook looks even more handsome that I remember, even though the interaction was only a few hours ago. He's leaning against his car confidently, arms crossed as he pins the man standing next to me. If looks could kill, Jimin assuredly would've melted to the ground. He nibbles on his full bottom lip as his brows furrow together, a crease forming in between them. His dimples show from how flexed his jaw is, the corners of which look as if they could cut me if I dragged my fingers across it. Something swims in those orbs that I can't quite place, and I don't wish to find out either .

Jimin's earlier words flash through my head, but I try to pay no mind to them. Jungkook can't have feelings for me, it's impossible. Saying he's out of my league is a vast understatement. It's more like he's on a different planet altogether. I can never let myself feel anything for him, no matter what the stupid organ in my chest is trying to tell me as it beats harder at the sight of him. If I let go... If I let myself fall for him... It would only cause me pain. I've had enough of that for one lifetime. I won't set myself up for disappointment yet again.

His eyes meet mine from across the parking lot, and time seems to pause its existence. They seem to soften at the sight of me, his cheeks gaining a slight flush from the eye contact. I know mine don't fare much better. He uncrosses his arms before adjusting himself against his car, putting his hands in the pockets of the hoodie he now wears before glancing momentarily toward the ground awkwardly. I smile lifts in the corner of my mouth at the sight, endearing as it is. He brings one hand up to wave shyly as his eyes meet mine again. I almost forget to return the gesture as I get lost in his ethereal gaze.

"I'll see you tomorrow, first thing after practice. Do you want to hit the dance studio after?"

Jimin's voice thankfully snaps me out of my daze. The knowing smirk on his face makes me groan internally. I already know that I'm in for it in the morning, there's no avoiding it. There's no playing indifference either after the display of awkward teenage tension that he just witnessed. There's no ignoring it either. Fuck.

"Won't you be tired? You're gonna be dancing all morning." The idea of stretching my limbs again is a welcome one. The dance studio used to be a place in which I'd frequent. But, lately, life has been so chaotic that I haven't had the chance to go.

"Dancing with them is... different. Ballet is more of a release. I mean, you know what I'm talking about. And I think both of us are in need of some of that classical R and R." He kicks his leg out in a tendu dramatically, as if to further punctuate his words.

"Yeah, that sounds good." I say with a smile at my best friend, happy that he's not pushing the subject of the man across the parking lot.

Even though he's over 100 feet away, I can still feel his eyes bore into me. His gaze makes my skin tingle as it rakes over my features. I glance at him from my peripheral, only to cause myself to flush from the heat of it. I shiver runs down my back at the attention.

"Alright then." He pauses for a split second before donning an evil smirk. He pulls me into a dramatic hug, lifting me off the ground as I giggle. He sets me down after a few seconds, quickly turning away and walking toward the car across the lot. "Bye, bitch! I'll see you tomorrow."

I'm slightly out of breath from the random display of affection. Even though Jimin is not that much taller than me, maybe an inch or two, his strength always surprises me. My eyes meet with the man he's walking towards. The confliction in his gaze sends my heart racing in my chest. He looks as if he's debating on killing my best friend or running toward me. As if he's fighting his instinct to either defend me or claim me. The fact of it causes a flash of heat through my body, making my breathing speed up in the process.

Something clicks in his gaze as Jimin finally reaches him. I see the shorter male's mouth move, but can't quite make out what he's saying before he opens the door to the car and slides in. I gulp as he slowly drinks in my form, the heat from his gaze causing a flutter under my skin wherever it touches. As his eyes meet mine once again, the corner of his mouth lifts in a smirk. This snaps me out of my daze as I quickly hop into the driver's seat of my car. I focus all of my attention on starting the vehicle, trying to push out the feeling of his eyes still on me. I'm hyper aware of his every move as he continues to look at me.

I let out a shay breath before buckling my seat belt and putting the car in gear.

Oh, this is not gonna be fun.

#jungkook x reader #bts jungkook #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction

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