#i was listening to sad music thinking about the chaos of last week | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

shiny-jr · 4 years

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❝ ᴛ ʜ ɪ ɴ ᴋ ᴀ ʙ ᴏ ᴜ ᴛ ɪ ᴛ ❞

➼ 𝕐𝕒𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣𝕖 𝕃𝕖𝕖𝕔𝕙 𝕋𝕨𝕚𝕟𝕤

The ocean was unpredictable, but they still loved it.

Everyday in their youth, (Y/n) would travel to the beach, a private little area hidden by rocks and the tide. Playing there by themself for hours upon hours. Making sandcastles for the crabs, collecting seashells to share with their friends and family, practicing and teaching themself how to play a kalimba, until when it was dark a relative would come to drag them back home. For years, the beach became their safe spot where they retreated to get away from it all, but as life moved on so did (Y/n).

Soon, (Y/n)’s time was swallowed up by the problems and turmoil of everyday life, as they spent less and less time in their safe haven, now stuck in land. Eventually, they stopped going to the beach altogether, only occasionally taking a stroll there every month or so. It was still as peaceful and calming as they remembered. However, not everything could remain the same-- peace was never meant to last.

Those deep waters that held the unknown-- were wild and terrifying, so when fishermen and whole ships began to go missing, everyone assumed it was a tragic accident: a shipwreck, a terrible storm, or somehow becoming lost at sea. That is, until these so called accidents were becoming all the more frequent. It seemed like every week a poor fisherman went missing, every month a ship never to be seen again. Bodies of the dead lost at sea often found their way to shore, limbs missing or twisted and bent in impossible angles, visible signs they had been in a struggle.

Rumors began to float about, all ranging from a curse being placed on the town to the possibility of sea monsters lurking in the waters that caused these accidents to occur. Of course, in their paranoia and terror, the townspeople would believe anything, all except one person. They refused to believe in the rumors without proof, not allowing fear to get the best of them.

Everyday, (Y/n) continued to roam the now empty beaches in search of trinkets and treasures buried in the sand. And everyday, their family’s worries grew. Was it really wise to continue going to the beaches when there was an unknown threat in the waters? Still, no matter how hard they attempted to persuade them to stop and find a job further inland, (Y/n) always refused. As long as they stay away from the deep water, they will be fine, right?

Well, they were correct in a sense that they themself would not be harmed, but that didn’t mean that danger would stop from befalling on others.

It was a normal day, the salty breeze was warm and delightful, the clouds provided just enough cover from the hot sun. The waters were calm, steadily washing up to the shore. (Y/n) walked along the land, stepping along the warm sand and cool tides. In their hand they held an instrument, a wooden board with metal tines, a kalimba handmade and gifted by their parents. Aimlessly they tapped the metal, creating soft chimes that matched the clanging of freshly discovered treasures collected in their satchel that sounded with every stride they took.

They barely paid any attention to the lone fisherman out at sea, not too far from where they stood on the shore. The middle-aged man appeared to be too occupied with his work to even notice their presence as well. Using his nimble fingers to prepare the end of his rod with a hook and bait.

(Y/n) looked up with interest as they heard a splash in the waters. Had the man caught something so quickly? Their eyes widened as they saw the tip of a teal-colored tail emerge from the waters, the fisherman noticing it as well.

Think about it, think about it.

The fisherman placed down his rod, looking over the side of his boat that the person on the shore was unable to see. In an instant, two webbed hands grabbed the man by his shirt, dragging him underneath the waves and successfully stopping his scream from alerting any others in the vicinity, but (Y/n) had watched the whole thing unfold with growing horror.

What felt like hours were mere seconds they spent waiting, hoping to see the man reemerge safely. What should they do? Should they try to help somehow? But they couldn’t risk going further into the water! Should they run and get help? It might be too late if they came with help. Before they could make a decision, the man’s hat appeared and floated on the waves, but there was no sign of the fisherman-- until the blue waters began to turn a crimson red, blood making its way to the surface.

Think about when you were there.

(Y/n) stifled a shriek, quickly shoving the kalimba back into their satchel and switching out their sandals. Struggling to put them on as quickly as possible, they would run back to town and inform authorities about what they had witnessed. As they nearly fell and tried to slide on their sandals, another splash emitted from behind the boat, a voice making their blood run cold.

We know it.

“Eeeeh, what a weakling. There wasn’t much to squeeze! Didn’t you hear something earlier, Jade?”

“Indeed, Floyd, I did. Perhaps there’s another human in the area?”

Finally clipping their sandals on their feet securely, they bolted. Running as fast as their feet could carry them on the sand, too afraid to look back. Failing to notice their musical instrument fall out of their satchel and into the waters. (Y/n) was far too focused on getting away as quickly as possible, only one destination was in mind: the town. They had to get to town and report what they witnessed. Behind them, they were just able to make out the words being said by whatever creatures remained in the waters.

We already know it.

“Aah, there they go! They’re running away like a scared little shrimp!”

“That’s a shame. It seems humans are quick to flee.”

❂ ❂ ❂ ❂ ❂ ❂ ❂ ❂ ❂ ❂

The twins had occasionally swam to the surface when in their youth, and while mischievous and troublesome, they had never attacked a human. They had been children at the time, just two little eels. However, their visits soon became frequent upon discovering a hidden rocky beach behind a cliff, and while they played with the crabs and watched the seagulls, they spotted the first human they ever saw.

Jade and Floyd nearly submerged themselves fully in the waters, poking the top of their heads out. From the darkness behind some rocks jutting out of the waters, they watched with fascination as the land creature played all alone by themselves.

Floyd stared with wide eyes before looking at his twin, “Hey, hey, isn’t that sad? That little human is lonely. I have you, but they’re all alone!”

Jade nodded, watching the human with a tilt of his head, “Yes, that is sad. But they don’t look lonely.”

On the contrary, (Y/n) appeared delighted despite the lack of company. They laughed and chased away those pesky seagulls, making shapes and small structures from the sand that amazed the twins, and even played a strange musical instrument. They had to wonder, were all young humans like this?

Think about it, think about it.

“Jade, that small shrimpy is pretty funny.”

“Yes, Floyd, they are very interesting.”

It soon became habit for the young Leech twins to venture to that secret beach in search of that amusing little human. As the years went by, the human’s trips to the beach became infrequent until it stopped completely. However, the two never forgot about the human named (Y/n), the memory of watching them play constantly lingering in the back of their mind.

It disappears in three days, and fills up again.

After years of not visiting the surface, their return meant chaos and misfortune for the land dwellers. What better fun was there than humans? Oh to see them struggle in their tail’s grip, gulp and gasped for air only to get a mouthful of water, and how they struggled was all so much fun! It was a shame they never lasted long, a single squeeze was all it took to break any unfortunate human they came across.

“Save me! I’m scared!” All day long.

❂ ❂ ❂ ❂ ❂ ❂ ❂ ❂ ❂ ❂

I knew it.

(Y/n) retreated away from the ocean, as far as they could go, not wanting to be reminded of what they witnessed. Those recent memories engraved in the front of their mind, the terrified faces of the authorities they reported the accident to, the grief-stricken family of the fisherman, and the incident itself with the blood and those creatures that continued to lurk in the salty waters.

I saw it.

They had run to the forest, hoping they could calm themself and find peace of mind here. The forest, lakes, and rivers should be safe, right? The beach was miles away, they were safest here, right?

Think about it, think about it.

The sound of running waterfalls and the chirp of birds filled the silence, slowly providing them a sense of calm. It’s as if the gentle flowing water extinguished the flames of their fear and guilt, leaving them at peace. Softly the wooden path they walked on creaked, the healthy green leaves from branches overhead provided shade, the water of the river was a clear emerald green. Their eyes admired the many waterfalls, taking a shaky breath, Reaching for their satchel, they cursed underneath their breath upon realizing their musical instrument was gone. Instead, they opted for humming, singing softly in this space where they believed they were alone.

We worry all day long.

Two particular sea creatures stopped from exploring this new strip of water, perking up at the distant humming and soft singing. They stopped swimming, looking towards the direction it came from.

We worry about what we’re going to eat when the night comes.

Jade listened to the distant voice, smiling at the lovely melody and soft voice. Slowly a grin appeared on his lips, revealing his sharp teeth. “Hm… Are my ears deceiving me, or do you hear that as well?”

“Yeahhh! It sounds like a merfolk’s song!” Lowering the little wooden musical instrument he had discovered on the shore earlier, Floyd shook his head. “Eh, but merfolk are too wimpy to come inland!”

“That is true… Considering that, it must be another human.”

“This is getting boring here… I know! Let’s find that little human!”

To win is to survive.

(Y/n) hopped along the smooth stones, kicking the water running along by their feet. Parting their lips, their dulcet voice flowed out and rang through the air, partially disrupted by the waterfalls. “Now’s your moment. Floating in a blue lagoon~” Aimlessly spinning along the stone, careful not to misstep and accidentally fall in the water. “Boy, you better do it soon! No time will be better~”

The Leech twins neared at a slow pace, taking cover under the darkest shadows that covered the river. However, before they could zoom forward and drag them underneath to have their fun, the duo stopped upon catching a proper glimpse at the human’s face. Their olive colored eyes soaking up the familiar features while their golden eyes glowed dimly. In that instant, like a lightbulb switching on, they both recognized the human as the same one from the morning, the same human they used to watch years ago.

Think about it, think about it.

“Aaah~~~! It’s Shrimpy~~!!!”

(Y/n) jumped at the shrill shriek, eyes going wide as they recognized the voice as one from this morning. Freezing in place, they looked up and nearly fainted on the spot as they spotted a figure in the waters coming straight towards them at unbelievable speed. A mix between a terrified whimper and a yelp escaped their lips.

The small wooden dock behind them leading into the forest was too far, they’d never make it before that thing would snatch them up. Sprinting along the stone, they approached the waterfalls where the wall curved in to reveal a sizable cave safe from the water.

“Hey, hey, wait up~!”

Seeing no other option, they dove inside, scratching their skin against the rocks and slamming against the wall in the process, just as they heard a loud splash behind them.

(Y/n) stumbled up, ignoring the aching pain on their back and the scratches littering their arms. Eyeing the sea monster before taking slow steps back, nearly screaming as a second one popped out of the water beside the other, nearly identical to the first one.

Your riddle will make us happy, free, and alive.

Both of the sea creatures had human-like faces but with gills; their upper bodies were shaped like a human’s but their lower-halves were long tails resembling that of an eel. Their skin tone was almost entirely teal, with portions of their chest and face white. The only difference between the two was their eye color: The first had a right eye that was olive color while his left was a golden hue, in comparison, the second had a right eye that was a golden hue while his left was an olive color.

“Shrimpyyy, come here! Let me squeeze you~!” The first creature whined as he stretched out his arms, but (Y/n) was too far to grab. When they showed no sign of approaching him, he pouted while his sharp nails scratched the rocky floor. “I have to greet you with a hug, come on!”

“Hehehe, it appears we’ve frightened them.” The second creature chimed in, chuckling at their fear. “I like observing people, but I am not the best at it. We couldn’t even refrain ourselves from seeing you again.”

Images of the gruesome sight from earlier that day flashed in mind. Reeling away as they felt their stomach churn. (Y/n) managed to find their voice, barely squeaking out, “A-Again…? You m-mean f-from earlier…?”

“You’re not completely correct. My, my… I seem to have gotten ahead of myself and acted rather unsightly this morning. Heheh… Forgive us for what you had to witness. But unfortunately, you wouldn’t recognize us. We haven’t properly met yet.” Holding up his hand, he held the musical instrument they left behind at the beach. Extending it out to them, he offered a charming smile, “I believe this is yours, is it not?”

Silently (Y/n) nodded, gulping as they hesitantly stepped forward, cautiously watching the duo that seemed amused with them. Shakily the human snatched up their kalimba--

“Baaam~!”

They flinched and jumped back, clutching the kalimba close to their chest. Stumbling back away from them until their back pressed against a stone. Frantically their eyes searched for a way out, there was only the stone rocks to hop on but those twin sea creatures could easily grab them if they chose that path. This small cave was a deadend, however, if they could somehow climb upwards until they reached the top of the waterfall, they could escape that way…

“Just kidding!” The first creature let out an unevenly-pitched laugh at their reaction, grinning as the tip of his tail poked out of the waters, “Little Shrimp is funny, look at them tremble!”

“Certainly very amusing.” The second creature hummed, eyes glimmering with mischief as he admitted. “It’s strange, isn’t it? For the longest time I believed humans were dull, but you’re not very dull, (Y/n).”

(Y/n) felt their heartbeat stop. Softly they asked, unable to stop from stuttering and tripping over their words, “H-How do you k-know m-my name…?”

“Allow us to properly introduce ourselves firstly.” The second creature placed a webbed hand to his chest and began, “I am Jade Leech. This is my twin, Floyd.”

The first creature, Floyd, grinned and folded an arm behind his head as he sang, “Hello, I’m Floyd! I’m sooo happy to see you again, Shrimpy!”

Your riddle will erase the shadow of death and we’ll live in a dream world!

“We’ve seen you many times before, years ago. Our favorite pastime was watching our beloved little human play on the beach.” Jade feigned a sad frown, as if the mere thought of it wounded him. “So I’m certain you can imagine how heartbroken we were when you stopped coming by!”

“Ooh, we were sooo sad when Shrimpy left! We wanted to play with you and swim with you!” Floyd explained eagerly, a toothy grin growing steadily with every word he said, “Now, we can talk to Shrimpy and we’ll have all the time in the world to have fun together! Hey, hey, you should play us a song like you used to!”

(Y/n) backed away slowly, shivering under the watchful gazes as they stuffed the kalimba in their satchel. Approaching the wall of the cave, their fingers gripped the moist stone surface. Slowly attempting to climb the slippery surface, careful to avoid getting too close to the twin sea creatures and cautious to avoid the water from the waterfall to avoid being drenched or pushed down.

Jade’s charming smile faltered, watching their feeble pathetic attempts to climb higher and higher to land away from their grip. “Now where do you think you’re going?”

The human paused before slowly continuing, responding carefully, “Look, I-I have to get home… T-Thank you kindly for not killing me, but I r-really have to get goin--”

Splash!

Floyd jumped out of the water, his wet and firm webbed hand gripping their ankle, weighing them down and dragging them back down to the water. “Heheh, why did you think you could win and leave~?”

Unable to flail about or fight back, two long slippery tails curled around their entire body. Every movement in resistance threatened to squeeze tighter until they wouldn’t be able to breath. They felt so small in their grip, left to stare in terror at the creature's wide toothy grins. Specks of blood staining and bits of flesh stuck between their shark-like teeth, making the human even more afraid. The duo kept (Y/n) afloat as they pleaded fearfully, “P-Please… let m-me go--”

“It’s been some time since we’ve seen you. Why not stay and keep us company? After all, we have a lot of catching up to do, my little anemone~”

“When Shrimpy is here it’s so much fun, I just can’t get enough! You won’t even think about leaving again, right, Shrimpy~?”

Think about it, think about it.

- You might like this!

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impulsivefanwriter · 3 years

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A Tiny Spark Leads to a Roaring Flame (But Flames Can Always be Doused by Water)

Heeyyyyy so y’all know the Reverse Thanos Snap AU for SPBNR? Basically everyone but Smith/S!Kai gets sent to the M!verse. Everyone. The entire population of S!verse Ninjago City & a few surrounding areas. Except poor Smith. Essentially it happens because S!Garmadon tries to send Smith to a place where he can't mess with his plans, and ends up sending everyone away from Smith to take him out of the equation.

The second part to this AU is that the S!Ninja end up searching for Kai in the chaos and grab the Red Ninja before jetting out of there with the Bounty. Except... they didn’t grab Smith (who’s still home), but rather Red (M!Kai).

Red thinks the S!Ninja are babysitter clones created by Garmadon after he somehow turned Lloyd younger without his memories & is trying to raise him to be his new General #1. With this in mind, he pretends to be S!Kai, and waits for the moment he can rescue Lloyd.

What would happen in the S!Ninja discovered his deception/their mistake of grabbing a wrong Kai and mistake Red for a recreated Aki (aka Bizarro Evil Clone Kai) before he could enact his plan?

Well, this is that idea. (Title inspired by how a crack AU spiralled into a beautiful angst-fest)

Enjoy. :3

-----*-----

Red was going to get Lloyd out of here tonight.

Away from these Not-Friends made by Garmadon to emulate the Ninjaforce. Away from this flying ship built to emulate Master Wu's ship, so familiar and yet so off. Away from this false reality and back to the real everything where they could hopefully get his memories back and his age back and everything back to the way it was before the city descended into chaos.

He just had to... bide his time. Be patient.

FSM, he was bad at being patient.

His hands itched to grab Lloyd and run now, but he was horribly outnumbered and without his mech. No matter how badly he wanted to, he couldn't rush this. If he did, he would make everything worse. Like he always did.

But fate- or rather, Lloyd- had other plans.

The little version of his younger brother- yes, they were roughly the same age normally, shut up, Lloyd was still his younger brother- had been... eying him weird all morning. Not like Not-Jay and Not-Cole and Not-Zane, but like Not-Nya. Like he actually knew instead of suspected. These babysitter clones seemed to think he was the Not-Kai, and if that was the opportunity the universe was going to give him, then by the flames of the departed world was he going to skip this chance to save Lloyd.

Currently he stood on the deck of the ship as they parked in the sky a few meters above the docks on the outskirts of the city. It wasn't the docks with the Bounty warehouse, curse his luck, but it wasn't the endless sky or the empty ocean (though it was still too close to that murky, haunting water for his liking. Water was his sister's domain for a reason). At least he could sneak Lloyd off in the cover of night, maybe find someone in the city who wouldn't recognize the Son of Garmadon this way and would be willing to help them hide until they could make it back to the real ninja.

"Kai," Not-Zane spoke suddenly next to him.

Red would never get used to the way his voice... lacked the same effect the real Zane's had. The effect that Kai and the rest of his team had assured their friend over and over was unique, special, but in a good way. To embrace it. That it wasn't noticeable, but when it was, that it was so Zane that his friends didn't care that it was different.

This 'Zane' sounded much too different than his own. He hadn't recognized Kai's tested line of 'road work ahead' when they passed one of the many construction signs littering the city (even more so since the chaos happened a week ago), and instead had responded with 'a great deal of work to fix in the city'.

Seriously, Garmadon, do better research on your clones.

Not-Zane was also much too... calm. Too 'wise' compared to the wild teen that was Zane. And he walked without heelies or whatever Zane used to slide around like a boss, though he was still silent. And that meant, like now, he snuck up on Red fairly often- and Red was training to be a Ninja, so that took serious talent.

"Kai," Not-Zane said again, and Red finally broke his gaze from where he'd been staring over the railing, planning tonight's escape route. "Lunch has been made for over an hour. Are you alright?"

Red forced his brightest smile. "Course I'm alright! Just trying to figure out what happened, as usual."

Why Lloyd was suddenly like, 8, and without his memories. Why the Not-Friends were on this Not-Ship and had mistaken him for Not-Kai. Why the city was in a state of disarray and chaos.

Not-Zane studied him, then turned to give the city a sad look. "I'm not sure myself. My scanners can't seem to figure out what is happening. It is as if... blocked by some force."

Red winced, then expertly disguised the move by leaning against the rail. Zane never would use 'my scanners', despite how often Red and the others assured him it was okay. Yet another reason why this wasn't his friend.

"You know Ninjago City," Red said with a weak laugh. "Always one crisis or another. Always those annoying Garmadon Attacks"

This seemed to satisfy Not-Zane, who nodded thoughtfully. "This event definitely seems to have Garmadon's hand in the mess."

He patted Red on the back. "Well, don't worry yourself ragged, Kai. Come in for lunch soon, alright? We have training for Lloyd later."

Ah, right. Training. AKA what Red assumed was how Garmadon was planning to shape this impressionable version of his friend into his new General #1.

"I'm ready for training now, Zane!"

Speaking of Lloyd-

The little gremlin came up from the hull with the rest of the Not-Ninja. Red hated when the entire group was together; it was way more difficult to act as Not-Kai around them, especially around Not-Nya.

For starters, Not-Jay had a notch in his eyebrow that the real Jay never had. He was missing the iconic freckles, and the scarf, and the fluffy hair, though you could always say it was just a wardrobe change. What you couldn't change was the personality differences. This couldn’t be Jay. Jay was anxious and quiet, his jokes (while plentiful) said more timidly and his newest ideas shared with hesitance that only shrank after years of encouragement. He would never be this loud, ever.

Not-Cole was the leader, probably because Lloyd was so young. But even then, in Red's team, Nya would probably take second-command. Cole was their sturdy support, yes, but he was chill, laid-back. Ready to follow and support his friends to the ends of the earth with his tunes and occasional sarcastic wit, but not lead. Not like Not-Cole, who was more serious and commanding and didn't. listen. to. music. Red hadn't spotted a single record or boombox in the room in the hull. That was a tragic oversight on Garmadon's part. The members of his research team should be Fired.

And then there was Not-Nya. Who wore a dress with confidence that his sister would love but never publicly wear. Who had short hair- Nya had tried that style once, and decided it itched around her neck too much- and jewelry, and a giant flying Samurai mech suit. His sister had the Water Strider Mech, and Not-Nya had a flying combat suit. Sure. Close enough. Personality-wise they were similar.

Similar at first glance. Nya was fluid and adaptable to whatever role she needed filling. She was spunky, and as fiery as him when it came to tempers, though she knew how to keep hers in check (she had to, right? No one called her hot-headed and impulsive and reckless and blamed her temper for mistakes or damage or whatever the news comments liked to say about the Fire Mech). Not-Nya was also adaptable and independent-minded, but she seemed more rigid. More doing her own thing.

Point was, everyone wasn't actually his friends, despite how much they tried to prove they were. And they kept acting like he was this Not-Kai, who was just as hot-headed but apparently more mature and training-oriented and basically the better, cooler (or hotter, perhaps, for the fire theme of the red ninja) him, since his acting never seemed to fully convince them. Trying to impersonate a standard he couldn't seem to reach, some legendary hero he wasn't- er, wasn't yet! Yeah! He just needed to prove himself, be better, and he'd be fine. Just... fine. Yeah.

Mini-Lloyd (Red was tempted to call him L'ilyod in his head, but that felt wrong somehow, like he was infringing on some kind of copyright law) stared at him like a goddamn falcon, and he wasn't talking about the bird that circled the ship. He had this bowl-cut Red would tease him about endlessly after all this was over- seriously, how had Mr. Fabulous Hair started with this mess? Garmadon probably didn't even have hair, so there was no way the guy knew how to style it, and it was very evident based on Mini-Lloyd's hairdo.

Red noticed that all of them were staring, actually. Despite his relaxed rest against the rails, his fingers behind his back clutched the cool bar with a dull shake. He didn't notice how the metal seemed to glow red under his touch.

"Training, right, we should get onto that," Red tried. "What do you want to start with, Lloyd?"

"How about a little game?" Lloyd asked with complete innocence. "What we were playing last week before we got interrupted."

Oh sh!t.

"I-I don't know, shouldn't we start with stretches? Or how about some sparring, that's always more fun than a game!"

"But I wanted to continue our game..." Mini Lloyd said, and FSM's sake, he couldn't deal with that pouting look.

Okay. Okay, don't panic. Think logically. What kind of game would an 8-year-old Lloyd like to play with him? Something physical, so no board games- he liked to test his mettle against Zane on those, and sometimes he would almost not-lose. Logic puzzles also fell more on Jay's area. Trivia, especially music trivia, was a bubble between the anxious motormouth and Cole. Video games fell on team building, and wouldn't classify as a training warmup.

"Well," Red said, taking a hopeful stab in the dark. "There's not too much space on the deck for... tag..."

Lloyd nodded, looking satisfied. The Not-Ninja looked- well, their expressions were hard to read because of how different it was compared to his friends. But Red was a master of deception (well, fire, but eh, technicalities), and he had them fooled, and he just had to keep it up until nightfall so he could rescue Lloyd and explain in a safe location-

"HE'S NOT KAI!"

Orrrrr improvise. Okay, yep, he could improvise.

Red lunged forward and grabbed Mini Lloyd's wrist from where he had his hand extended in an accusatory point. He ducked under Not-Jay's attempts to grab him- fast, but not as fast as his Jay, his Jay who could disappear from an awkward social interaction in the span of a flickering lightbulb- and dragged his younger brother with him as he vaulted over the railing. Not-Zane almost managed to yank him back onto the Not-ship, but his icy grip caught only empty air as Red pulled Lloyd into a tight hold and ducked.

He hit the dock below with a stumble, rolling back onto his feet and taking off with a very stubborn green ninja in tow. It took all his strength to drag Lloyd (kicking and screaming like he was being kidnapped or something when Red was just trying to rescue him, for FSM's sake. Lloyd didn't know that, but he could still try to be at least a little more considerate.)

The wooden docks creaked and shuddered underfoot and Red grimaced; whoever rebuilt them after the latest Garmadon attack had shredded them like newspaper clearly hadn't wasted any unnecessary change. It certainly didn't help that Lloyd packed quite the punch for someone so small. Red definitely would come out of this with bruised shins and arms from where Mini Lloyd tried to push him away, but it would be worth it to keep his teammate, his younger brother, safe.

Then green filled his vision and broke his hold on Lloyd's wrist, sending him skidding across the dock planks as he was sent flying. When he finally rolled to a stop, neck and shoulder stinging from where the blast had caught him (no burns, just jitters like he'd been shocked), he had to take a few seconds to re-orient himself. Did the Not-Ship have cannons or something? What hit him from behind, so close it could have hit Lloyd?

Lloyd. Was Lloyd okay?

Red pushed himself to his feet, ignoring the bleeding scrapes on his hands and legs from where he'd gotten banged up by the splintered docks. His gaze, sharp and frantic, searched for signs of green. The warning of more blasts, the flash of the fabric of a gi, anything.

He spotted his brother in the arms of Not-Cole. No, no, no-

And suddenly Not-Nya was there, given a boost by Not-Jay. Her grip was as if she were wearing the robotic mech suit, harsh and powerful and near in-human. She threw Red back to the dock floor as her face twisted with the fury of a storming ocean. A resounding crack rang out over the harbour.

Red couldn't tell if it came from the planks under him or his own shoulder.

She pinned him to the wood, barking accusations and threats in his face faster than Not-Jay could talk. Red blinked through a haze of pain, trying to focus on her face and words. She was missing the beauty mark on her face, he noticed. Yet another tell she wasn't his sister.

"-scar on the wrong side-" And it was hard to hear again over the ringing in his ears. He tried to throw her off, get back to Lloyd, anything, but he was-

Useless.

Her hands suddenly got in his face, slamming his left cheek to the wood. She was close- close to his face, close to his eye, close to his scar- pushing and prying as she tried to do something. Red picked up in his struggling, his attempts to free himself turning to desperate shoves and wild clawing like a trapped animal. He wouldn't let this creation of Garmadon's finish the job that teen had started all those years ago.

"Or better yet, he needs to shut his damn mouth."

The flash of a knife. His vision half-blurry. Blood- so much blood- and a lasting scar.

"-contacts-" "-red-" "-struggling-" "-we know what he- it- is already-" "-not the real Kai-" "-wish-" "-Garmadon-"

He had to get away. Get Lloyd away from them now.

In one surge of strength- and yep, his shoulder definitely wasn't okay after that move, as if he'd ripped it not just from its socket but from its very attachment to his body- he knocked Not-Nya aside. If he could’ve seen through the red haze, he might have noticed red embers dancing around his fingertips as his desperation and fear tapped into something deep in his soul.

He tried to shoot to his feet, tried to run for Lloyd (held so tight in Not-Cole's grip, surely they were hurting him, he couldn't let that happen-). He roared, "LEAVE MY BROTHER ALONE!", but before he could take another step through Not-Jay and Not-Zane in his path, the docks gave one last ominous shudder before deciding it had finally had enough.

The planks crumbled underfoot like charred firewood in a crackling campfire, and Red was sent tumbling into the frigid ocean water below.

#spbnr #reverse Thanos snap au #reverse thanos snap #ninjago #lego ninjago #same People but not really #kai ninjago

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eirikaanemo · 3 years

Text

Can You Keep A Secret?

Warnings: imprisonment, mentions of starvation and sickness

Note: I haven't actually played Dvalin's quest but I tried to keep it as close to canon as possible. Feel free to leave a comment or message me if you see something wrong.

Venti x GN!Reader

1.9k Words

Your soulmate is secretly Barbatos... now what?

Everyone has a soulmate. And everyone is born knowing your soulmate's biggest secret. For most people it’s really unhelpful, but for some people it helps them find their soulmate. You’re in the latter group, because yours gives you a name.

You've known your whole life that your soulmate is secretly Barbatos. It's… interesting, to say the least. Of course you'd never dare to tell anyone. Thankfully, asking someone what their soulmate’s secret is isn’t very common. It’s considered to be very rude, so no one asks you what your secret is. They'd think you're crazy!

Barbatos hasn't been around for centuries and you're a mortal. This is the sort of thing you would read about in trashy romance novels! But even though it’s crazy and kind of overwhelming, you know it's true. You don't know if he'd ever accept you or want to be with you, in fact, you’re pretty sure he won’t, but you want to try.

Once that’s settled, you just have to find him. If he's anywhere, it's probably the city of Mondstadt. That’s where he seems to have shown up the most in the past, after all. So you move to Mondstadt. It’s a nice place and the people are friendly. Finding a job with the Knights of Favonius was fairly easy and it paid pretty well.

Unfortunately, the 'Storm-terror' problem starts shortly after you move. He throws the whole city into chaos the first time, and then proceeds to keep doing it regularly. The fear is all encompassing, but that's fine, you try to convince yourself. It will all be worth it when you find him. ‘If you find him’, your traitorous mind whispers.

It's been months, a year even, and you're starting to lose hope. How were you expecting to find Barbatos anyway? Shout from the rooftops for him to reveal himself and whisk you away? He hasn't been around for a long time and you knew that. And to be honest, at this point you've given up.

Going home is the logical thing to do, it’s where your family is after all. But you stay because you made yourself a home here. You have friends: Jean, Lisa, and Kaeya. You have come to love the city: music, freedom, and camaraderie. Well, you love the city except for the 'Storm-terror' attacks. Those aren't very lovable.

What concerns you the most though is that 'Storm-terror' is a dragon. And dragons trend to be important (like, archon important). But no one seems to remember this one. So you research. You visit the cathedral and speak with some nuns. You dedicate some time to listening to bard’s tales, asking them if they know any songs about dragons. One does, and it's surprisingly informational. You spend time at the library, pouring through book after book. And after all this investigation, you've come to the conclusion that 'Storm-terror' is actually Dvalin of the Four Winds. Not that anyone actually believes you

It didn't stop you from telling people your theory though, and being more respectful in how you refer to him, despite all the damage he's caused. Eventually they do start considering it and the city starts catching on. If you keep doing this, you may be able to change the city's perspective of and reaction to Dvalin.

The abyss mage catches on to this, and he just can't let that happen. It could compromise the whole plan. So one day he has Dvalin abduct you and locks you up. And true to your luck, this happens out of the blue while you’re taking a walk that you’d finally convinced Jean to go on with you. Which, of course, reverses all your progress and makes the situation even worse than it was before. Incidentally, this also does the exact opposite of what you’d been trying to do by stressing out poor Jean more.

The abyss mage doesn’t care about anything other than making sure you’re not able to go back to Mondstadt. The mage does not care about human necessities. Who cares if you die? Not him. He hates humans. It's kind of part of his job description.

Your prison is where Dvalin retreats to when not attacking. And the mage has to go report to someone else sometimes, giving you opportunities to speak with Dvalin. He never responds to you, but you can tell he eventually starts listening. You start by rambling about various subjects; then talking about how you know he's Dvalin, and that you're sorry he was being treated like he was, once you know he is listening. Because while you don’t know the whole situation, you know that he feels hurt by how humans have treated him.

After several days of talking to him, he slowly starts warming up to you. It’s a strange sort of bond that grows stronger as time goes on. He starts responding and the two of you actually have conversations instead of just you talking. Eventually you even mention how you know your soulmate is actually Barbatos and that you've kind of given up finding him.

He gives a thoughtful hum, lets you vent out your feelings, tries to think of an appropriate response, then allows you to drop the subject once you’ve worn yourself out emotionally. It’s becoming obvious that your health, physical, mental, and emotional, is degrading faster as time goes on.

One day Dvalin and the mage both disappear for longer than usual. After the mage makes sure you won’t be able to escape, of course. It’s not like you would’ve been able to leave anyway. At that point you’re not able to do much at all.

Little did you know that only Dvalin would be returning. They ended up facing the traveler and their companions in battle, and Dvalin was freed from the mage’s influence. The first thing Dvalin does is take them to help "the one decent human, that he actually cares about". You're in bad shape at this point, starving, sick, and weak. But you’re aware enough to hear Jean call your name and feel someone gather you in their arms before blacking out.

When you wake up you're at the cathedral and are feeling much better. Certainly you are not fully recovered, that will take weeks. That one bard who was able to play you a song about Dvalin is always there. You vaguely remember him being there when you were found. He doesn’t really interact with you much, he’s just kind of there, but he does play peaceful music that helps you fall asleep when you’re struggling to rest.

Then the day comes for you to go home. They’ve done all they can for you and you’re past the worst of it. But you’re well enough to be out and about. “Now you take care of yourself,” Barbara lectures you. “Don’t push yourself, get plenty of rest, drink lots of water, and eat three square meals a day, got it?”

“Got it,” you confirm. “Thank you for taking care of me, I really appreciate your help.” She smiles, wishes you well, and returns to the cathedral. You take a moment to breathe and just appreciate being back home, free of your prison and the small cathedral room they’d kept you in while treating you.

Taking a deep breathe you start on your way home. “Hey!” You hear someone exclaim behind you. “Could you hold on a second?” Turning around, you see the bard quickly excusing himself from a street performance before running to catch up to you. Once he’s caught up, he gives you a smile.

“Hi! I’m Venti the bard! Would you be willing to speak with me about something? It’s kind of private so we would need to go to windrise or something, but you’ll want to hear this, I promise.” He says. “Alright,” you agree, “but I can’t make it all the way to windrise. Would my home do? I live alone so we’ll have privacy.” He nods, “that’ll work great!”

The walk home is quiet but comfortable. The bard’s content to hum a tune as he follows you through the streets. Soon you’re home, unlocking the door to let you and your guest in. You lead him over to the couch where you both sit down. “So,” you say, “what did you want to talk about?”

“Well, I was talking with Dvalin a day or so after we freed both of you and he said you mentioned you came to Mondstadt searching for your soulmate. And that you said your soulmate’s biggest secret, the one that you know, is that they’re Barbatos,” he explains. You feel a pang of betrayal at Dvalin’s actions and some guilt for sharing your soulmate’s secret in the first place.

It probably showed on your face because he quickly spoke up again. “He didn’t just tell me for no reason though. You see, I am Barbatos. I’m your soulmate.” Your head, which had been drooping with the weight of your emotions suddenly shot up as you fumbled for a response.

Apparently that showed too because he continued, “And I’m sorry I made it so hard for you to find me. I’m sorry I almost made you give up on me. Most of my waking time is spent incognito so I can watch over everyone while not being put in a position of authority. I didn’t anticipate meeting you ”

There’s a moment or two of silence as you gather your thoughts. “It’s okay,” you assure him. “I understand why you did what you did and I’ll never hold it against you. How were you supposed to know I was even born yet, not to mention that I’ve been in the area searching for you.”

You take another moment or two to gather your wits. “I will also understand if you don’t want to do anything about this,” you state. “I don’t want you to feel forced into having a relationship with me if you don’t want to. The last thing I’d want to do is be responsible for making you miserable. And that’s not to mention how you’re an archon and I’m just a mortal.”

Your talking speeds up as you start rambling, losing control of the conversation as you feel more and more nervous. Once you realize you’re rambling you shut your mouth with a click. “Sorry about that,” you mutter. “I do that sometimes when I’m nervous.”

When you chance a glance at him, he honestly looks a little offended but mostly just really sad. “Is- is that really what you think I think about this?” He asks softly. “Because it’s not. I absolutely want this. I absolutely want you. I’ve been looking forward to this moment for millenia and I wouldn’t give this up for the world.”

He reaches over and slowly, hesitantly, so as to give you time to escape if you want, gathers you into his arms. You realize that he’s the one who picked you up to bring you home. Your ear rests against his chest as lean against him, and his heart skips a beat as you gently grab one of his hands and kiss it. “I’m glad,” you breathe. “I’m glad too,” he voices softly.

You yawn, feeling the exhaustion from your journey home and the rest of the day hit you. He pulls you close and whispers in your ear, “Sleep well, my cecilia, I’ll be here when the sun comes up and when you wake up.” You fall asleep to the sound of his heartbeat.

#eirika writes #venti x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin venti #venti #soulmate au

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universalistotalis · 3 years

Text

The Fifth Date

Bokuto Koutarou (Timeskip!!!) x Female Reader

credits to the owner of the picture :)

3k words

kinda long but it's worth it i guess

Masterlist!!!

You can’t believe this. You just can’t!

“Hey, are you alright?” Bokuto Koutarou looked at you with utmost sincerity in his eyes. You looked up and wondered if he really was worried or just being polite but either way, you stared right at his pupils.

“I am.” You agreed, letting go of his gaze and wanting to end the conversation.

This was your fifth date with him but there were no sparks since the first. You just didn’t feel his vibes and he could be so noisy at times which you hated. There was selfishness underneath his skin and it reeked in your nostrils. You hated egotistic people and you weren’t going to tolerate this much longer.

What your friends saw in Bokuto, you had no idea! They were all swooning over him when they set you up on a date together. They kept saying that he was perfect so you, being the hopeless romantic that you are, expected a prince who would be a gentleman, who would listen to you talk for hours on end, who would be so loving and caring… But instead, you were presented with boastfulness and chaos all wrapped up into one big muscle of a man! He did look like a prince but that was it!

“You know you can tell me right? I’ll listen.” You didn’t mistake the softness in his voice as he continued to stare at you lovingly.

You didn’t know if it was the beautiful place that he brought you to or if it was his kindness that made your brain turn into mush. But for the first time in five dates, your heart was hammering, its beats already like drums in your ears.

“I-I’m fine.” You stuttered and kept your eyes on the horizon.

You heard him sigh beside you on the railing you were both leaning on. The place you both drove to was divine as it overlooked the city. The twinkling lights below were mimicking the stars above and there were lanterns that hung overhead as well, casting the whole place in a lazy glow. You took a deep breath of the fresh air as you calmed yourself from the most stressful day of your life and from your whirlwind of a date.

A little rustling was heard and before you knew it, you were enveloped in warmth and his scent. Bokuto wrapped his jacket around you, letting you face him, so that he could pull the zipper up to your chest.

“There, so you won’t have to worry.” He smiled sweetly.

So he did notice the large coffee stain on your shirt and not once did he show that he was irked by it. You tried your best to cover it but of course you can't. Everyone at work gave you the side glance or the 'what-the-fuck-happened-to-you' look but he didn’t!

This can’t be happening. Were you reminiscing all those moments with Koutarou? AND NOW YOU’RE CALLING HIM KOUTAROU?!

You rolled around on your bed, a pillow tucked underneath your arms. A muffled scream was released as you felt an intense tingling sensation all over your body. You were supposed to end that fifth date! You were supposed to tell him that you both should see other people!

But the way he acted that night… it was as if he’s… perfect.

“Don’t hide from me.” He whispered in your ear as you cried in his arms. As his scent and warmth put your senses to overdrive with the jacket, you couldn’t help but sob. It was like the world was against you today. Even the document from work that you were so ready to pass, crashed on you. Even the coffee that you made this morning with care, splashed your white collared shirt. Even your ID lace that seemed so insignificant, decided to get caught on the doorknob and almost snapped your neck in two! And to spice things up, your evil boss humiliated you in the inter-department presentation even when the CEO of the company congratulated you on a job well done!

It was the little depressing and annoying moments that accumulated in your chest.

“Today has been s-so hard.” You cried in his shirt. “I keep on trying my best but it’s like I’m not doing enough. I'm not enough.”

The gentle rocking of your body stopped as he heard the words fall out of your mouth.

“Hey, don’t say that.” He cooed and trying to hold you at arm’s length. “You’re more than enough.”

You shook your head and tried to avoid his eyes again as he searched for yours. Fingers gripped on your chin to steady you and you melt for the nth time tonight.

“Don’t be too harsh on yourself. Alright? This day may have been difficult for you and maybe there are more days that would be the same but you shouldn’t doubt your efforts. The fact that you made it through, that’s already something to be grateful about.” He said while wiping your tears away. “But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t cry about them once in a while. Let yourself feel but then get back up again, yeah?”

You nodded but you felt another round of sobs escape your mouth. He pouted as he saw your wounded state and again, you were held close to his broad chest, away from the hurt, the pain, the stress…

This was dangerous. Are you actually falling for him? You’re actually falling for the loud guy that you swore you hated?!

‘Hey, hey, hey!’

His voice reverberated inside your skull and with that sound came the print of his smile on your brain. He had the nicest set of teeth and the nicest golden eyes you’ve ever seen. His skin was flawless too and under any light, you swore he was shining.

You couldn’t help but grin at the—

Yes…

This is bad. Really bad.

“You wanna dance?” He offered his hand out to you, smiling shyly. You were surprised at his somehow timid expression as you were so used to him being his confident self.

“I don’t know how.” You said breathlessly as you stared at his gorgeous face.

He let out a chuckle and reached out for your hand under the table. “Let’s figure it out, c’mon.”

The platform was small and there were four couples slowly dancing to the romantic song that was being played by a live band.

He led your hands to encircle his neck while his rested on your waist. All the motions, even the slightest graze of his skin on yours, were making your mind hazy. Everything seemed to blur and the only thing that made sense were the two of you in each other’s embrace.

“You’re so tall.” You whispered mindlessly which made him chuckle. He noticed that you could barely wrap your arms around his neck and that your arms were getting floppy due to fatigue. He then guided you to hug him around his waist instead so he could pull you closer.

“I’ve never danced like this before.” He confessed, swaying stiffly at the music.

“I can tell.” You giggle and look up at him in time to see him pout.

He poked your side, deliberately tickling you for a while. “That’s mean.”

“But it’s my first time too. And I kinda like it.” You said shyly, feeling your cheeks warm even with the cold night air.

“You think you could get used to it?” He asked, hope laced in his question.

“Of course.” You smiled up at him.

He smiled back and his eyes twinkled as he stared. He scooped your right hand and brought it to his lips for a quiet kiss then slowly intertwined your fingers with his, all while maintaining eye contact.

“AHHHHHHHHH!” You screamed into your pillow again as your head played that scene.

Sleep was so far away now that your adrenaline was so high because of him! You swore you could still feel his lips on your skin. It was as if he imprinted it there and nothing on earth can take that away now.

“Bokuto, stop haunting me! Let me sleep!”

“Now, listen here, missy.” The owner of the restaurant pointed to you sternly as she stood behind the counter. “Tell this boyfriend of yours to stop going here and actually get some much deserved rest! Athletes shouldn’t be tiring themselves!”

You chuckled at her actions and stole a glance at Bokuto who’s pouting excessively at the older woman with his hair seemingly deflating at her ministrations.

“But I like your food!” He whined.

The woman clicked her tongue, as if annoyed. “You can have better food from where you live. Now, stop pestering me!”

“I will come back here more often if you say that!” He smirked and leaned on the counter.

“As if! I know you’ll come back no matter what happens.” She rolls her eyes then turned to you. “We can’t get rid of him even if we wanted to!”

They kept bickering back and forth as you waited for the fruit shakes and other snacks that Bokuto ordered for takeout. It was a long drive back home and he said didn’t want you to get thirsty or hungry. You just listened to their banters and even though they were dissing each other out, you can’t miss the loving and motherly look the owner had for Bokuto.

“You’re a regular here?” You asked him as you settled on the carseat.

“I’m a fan of the view. And as you saw, I’m quite close with the owners and the workers. This is my safe space.” He replied and started the engine.

“When was the last time you went here?” You inquired, suddenly curious of his whereabouts.

“Yesterday.” He shrugged. “And the day before that. And maybe the whole of last week.”

Your eyes widened at his answer. “This is like two or three hours away! How?!”

“I needed some place to relax. And think.” He smiled sadly as maneuvered the car to begin the journey back home.

“Are you alright?” You blinked at your question. His voice seemed low and so sad in contrast to his usual loud and noisy screeches that you were so damn used to. This Bokuto in front of you was so hard to read!

He turned to you for a split second before averting his eyes on the road. “I am. I guess.”

“Don’t hide from me.” You bit your lip hard as you repeated his words to you. You wanted to know him more, to understand his feelings, and to make him feel better.

“Hey, you can’t use my lines against me.” He laughed lightly as he looked at you. Your eyes were begging him to tell you how he is and who was he to resist? “I’m just nervous about the incoming games, that’s all.”

“You still get nervous?” You turned to him, a little surprised.

“Why are you so shocked? Of course, I do! Some less nerve- wrecking than the others but I do always get tension at every game.” He sighed and ran a hand through his hair while thinking. “But the upcoming match is a qualifying game for the Olympics so everyone is anxious.”

“Who are you against with?” You asked.

“See, now that’s another one of my worries. The competitors have still not been announced so we have to wait for a month. A whole month! What am I supposed to do?!” He said exasperatedly. “And just last week, one of our teammates got injured so they gave us time off. You know, to rest and shit. But I am restless and—"

“So that’s why you come all the way here?” You concluded.

“Yeah.” He breathed. “The drive gets my mind off of the anxiety and their food just makes me feel like I’m home.”

‘So he is human after all.’ You said to yourself. It was the simplest realization but it did so many wonders for your feelings and understanding towards him.

The drive home was filled with stories of sadness and laughter. You both sipped at your drinks and munched at the chips he bought. And as you both neared your home, it dawned on you that this was the best date you’ve ever had in your life! Bokuto’s so laid back and chill, kind and generous. He listened so intently and patiently to all your life stories and he had a good memory too, remembering the things you’ve told him about yourself in the past dates.

You sighed while sitting up. There’s no question that you were falling in deep for this guy. During the drive, he became his noisy self, acting all the spikes he did at the games comically but instead of being annoyed, you had tears in your eyes because you had laughed so much at his acting. You loved listening to him talk and you realized he wasn’t selfish at all!

Go figure.

Maybe you just mistook his confidence for selfishness and egocentricity.

You can’t believe that you were itching to lengthen the time you had with him. The car was now parked in front of where you lived and it was time to say goodbye.

Your eyes met and there was a tinge of sadness in his eyes which surprised you.

“Look.” He turned to the passenger seat and leaned closer. “I know that I’m not the best date there is and you may have been agreeing to these just because of obligation from your friends but… I’d like you to know that I—“

Closing his eyes, he exhaled. “I really like you.”

As the words were uttered, your body visibly tenses under his gaze.

Panic rises in his gut as he realized what he did. “S-sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“N-no!” You tried to swallow. “You didn’t scare me.”

“Then why do you look like you’ve seen ghost?” He chuckled lightly not giving up his stares.

Your shoulders slumped as you sighed. “I’m just surprised, that’s all.”

He nodded, still looking. “I guess this will be our last, huh?”

“What?”

“I know you don’t like me and you hate my company. I just really like you so I tried to drag it out for so long.” He said sheepishly as he deflated back into his seat. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable and I’m so sorry if I did.”

This was not how you imagined ending your date. You were supposed to be the one saying that this will be the last. You were supposed to be excited about not seeing him again. You were supposed to go now! But the universe really did pull a reverse card on you today.

“Bokuto…” You started, feeling the guilt consume you to the bones. “I’m sorry if I made you feel that I didn’t like you.”

He was fiddling with his fingers now.

“It's just that your first impressions lasted so bad that it blinded me to who you really were.” Be honest. Just be fuckin’ honest! “I did think I didn’t like you but after tonight, you proved me wrong.”

His face looked at you in a flash, eyes finding the meaning behind your words.

“I didn’t know you could be like this!” You gestured to him, a little frustrated because your heart was pounding so bad and it became so difficult to breathe.

“Like what?” A smirk was beginning to form at his lips.

“This!” You laughed. “You’re fun to be with. You’re calm and reliable when needed. And just… yeah.” You’re just perfect.

You stared at each other’s eyes for a while longer, trying to read and drown in each other.

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to give it another try?” You asked, hoping to god he’ll say yes to your request.

His eyes widened for a moment and his gray hair perked up a little bit.

“I told you I like you.” He smiled. “Why would I say no to that?”

Your phone beeped beside you. And if you weren’t so red enough from the memory, you knew that you were flaming red now.

It was a text from Bokuto.

Can’t sleep :(

You sighed at what he said. His anxiety about the game catches onto him so much that he often gets insomnia. The poor baby. You were about to reply when another text popped out.

I may or may not be outside your home.

“What?!” You panicked while swiftly looking for a hoodie to put on. Why is he here and why were you feeling excited at the thought of seeing him?

You asleep, little owl?

You bolted towards the doors and true enough, he was there, leaning on his car and dazzling in all his six feet and three inches glory. He looked unreal in this light even in his simple hoodie and joggers.

“I’m sorry, did I wake you?” His husky voice greeted you as you walked closer.

“No. Can’t sleep too.” You smiled. “What brings you here?”

He shrugged. He didn’t know what came over him when he closed your distance and hugged you tight. To him, you looked like an angel sent to earth only for his eyes to see! You were in an oversized hoodie, hair a little tousled, and your face was so calm under the moonlight. Something inside him prickled at the thought of being domestic with you.

Slowly your arms wrapped around his waist and you surrendered your weight to him. In that moment, he felt like he would burst! Never did he expect for this to happen, for you to give him a chance, but here you were. He deeply breathed in your scent and planted a kiss on the top of your head.

“Do you want to hang out tomorrow?” Your voice was a mere whisper when you looked up at him.

“Like a date?” He grinned and wiggled his eyebrows playfully.

“Yeah?” You nodded.

He wondered if you had any idea about how you're making him feel crazier by the minute. If you don’t, then that’s much worse. “What am I gonna do with you?” He chuckled, arranging stray locks of your hair.

“You can go on a date with me.” You laughed and he was sure, so sure, that you felt his heart do a cartwheel when you were resting your head on his chest.

“I’d like that.” He replied hugging you tighter.

It was funny to you that you planned that fifth date to be the last. It turned out to be the first. The first real date where you felt like a princess in a fairytale. It was the first out of a never- ending series of romantic dates because Bokuto Koutarou had no plans of letting you go. Ever.

Okay, wait, hear me out. Have you seen that scene where Bokuto and Akaashi were just outside the hotel and they were just talking all calm and casual? MA'AM THAT'S WHERE I DIED SEEING BOKUTO AHHHH HE'S JUST SO PRECIOUS AND I DO BELIEVE HE CAN BE SERIOUS AND MATURE IF GIVEN THE CHANCE. I AM SIMPING HARD HELP

Masterlist!!!

Reblogs, replies are appreciated! <3

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alottanothing · 3 years

Text

Kismet

Summary: Evie prepares a meal for the stranger who helped her and finds herself more than a little smitten.

Previous Part: Hope

Word Count: 5707

Warnings: Language

Tag List: @ramilicious, @txmel, @edteche2, @gloriousdarkangelsworld, @diasimar, @xmxisxforxmaybe (Let me know if I missed you, or if you would like to be added to the tag list)

A/N: Okay, I almost didn't get this up today because I was up most of the night sewing kilts for Highland Weekend at the Ohio Renfiare. BUT I stayed awake and did my final read-through, so this should be mostly okay. I skipped a couple steps in my editing to get this up on time but I think, for the most part, it's okay. If you see a grammatical booboo, just ignore it, I'll get in here sometime this week with my other two editing steps and find it, then repost this. Capisce? Okay, cool...now. I hope you enjoy it, I also hope my trying to phonetically write Mer's accent doesn't get too annoying. I know you really shouldn't write accents, but I think it helps add to the characters. And I do try to keep it to a minimum so it doesn't get annoying. Thanks for the love the first part received last month! I know waiting so long between updates is a bit sad after weekly updates with LtR. But life is busy right now and once a month is all can guarantee.

Jonny did not know how to keep a house.

In fact, Jonny did not know how to do much more than drink, argue, and get into fights. He was nothing but a thorn in Evie's side—never mind how much she needed him for a place to lay her head. A necessary thorn was still a thorn. Given the opportunity, she would rip it out as soon as she could and dress the wound promptly so she was finally able to heal better. She stayed only because she had no other choice. And every time Jonny raised his voice or stumbled in reeking of alcohol and red-faced, Evie could hear her best friend's warning in her head. Cynthia had begged her not to go with him, but she hadn't listened.

Oh, how she wished she had.

Luckily, Jonny wasn't the kind of man who liked to stay home which eased the ache of the ever-present thorn in her side. Whatever money he did have, he spent out on the town—the town being New Orleans. Like Evie, Jonny had been born and raised in the Big Apple, the noise and the chaos was part of him. As such, he hadn't taken to the quiet suburban life Bridge City offered as well as Evie. She liked the quiet, easy flow of the sleepy town. Her housemate loathed his new home. He thrived in disarray, thus, he found a group of like-minded young men to run amok with in the neighboring metropolis every chance he got.

If Jonny had been any sort of amicable company, the notion of him leaving most every night to wreak havoc several miles away would have been upsetting. Thankfully, his penchant for city life meant a good portion of Evie's days were spent out from under Jonny's tyranny. The hours he was gone were blissful and calm, and she relished in them. Whether she was creating art or tending to chores around the old house, Evie didn't care as long as Jonny wasn't there—never mind how lonely the routine often was.

Evie had never gotten the chance to meet Jonny's maternal grandmother, though she suspected she would have liked to. Unlike her grandson, she seemed like any other sweet elderly woman judging by the furnishings she'd left behind. There were dozens of lace doilies, and table cloths with soft patterns, decretive china even, but it was the plethora of photos the old woman kept that told Evie she'd carried a kindly heart. All of them were kept in pristine albums or intricate frames; they were the only barbles that seemed to have been cleaned or dusted with any regularity which spoke of how much she must have treasured them. Evie loved those tiny trinkets and black and white memories. It didn't matter that they were not her legacy of family heirlooms to keep, she adored them anyway.

She couldn't count the number of times she'd replaced a broken frame that had fallen victim to Jonny's drunken belligerence or scrubbed tirelessly at a stain he'd left on the patterned tablecloths. It proved to be a hefty undertaking, but dwelling in the fantasies of someone else's history let her forget the grief of her own. She was willing to sacrifice a little elbow grease if it allowed her mind to roam away from the shadow that never really seemed to vanish.

For all the effort Evie put in on the interior, the cottage held little in the way of curb appeal. The porch was sunken in the middle, the paint was peeling off in chunks, and the yard was mostly weeds. Worst, however, was the screen door which squeaked so loudly, every dog in the neighborhood howled in protest every time someone crossed the threshold. The outside needed love that Evie simply didn't have the energy to lend. Despite the grit, however, the foundations were sturdy enough that she didn't worry. The cottage proved to be stronger than she looked—a feat Evie felt she had in common with the old house. And while it was a swell enough place to rest her head, it never truly felt like home. Home was somewhere safe, and as long as Jonny lived under that roof she wasn't safe. Not really.

Fortunately, Jonny wasn't home when Evie returned after her run-in with Mr. Shelton—Mer, she corrected herself with a hint of a giddy smile. Without her housemate there, her evening promised to be hopeful instead of lonely, and she wasted no time in figuring out what to make for dinner.

With her red pumps replaced by her worn-in slippers and her blue checkered apron secured around her waist, she set a pot of water to boil and dialed the phone conveniently located in the kitchen. Every evening she called her sister-in-law to pass the time and keep up on unimportant gossip back home; this time, however, Evie was excited to finally have some good news to share.

"You got the job, didn't you?" Cynthia Clarke asked on the other end, sounding hopeful. "I knew you would."

Evie grinned, still amazed how the sound of Cyn's voice always seemed to settle some of the ever-present anxieties buzzing in her head. She missed her friend so much.

"I didn't even say yes."

"Did you or did you not get the job?" Cynthia pressed.

"I did," Evie confirmed and her smile grew hearing her friend cheer on the other end of the phone.

"See! I knew it." Cynthia said. "My gut feeling is always right."

Evie rolled her eyes and shook her head fondly.

"I think I'm gonna like working there too, so that's good." she mused as she stood at the stove, eyeing the pot of water she’d set to boil.

"That's so great, Ev. I'm so proud of you." Cynthia paused before continuing. "So, what are you up to tonight? Avoiding Jonny?"

"Sorta," Evie nodded even though she knew her friend wouldn't see.

As she continued to watch her cooking pot of water she told Cynthia all about her trouble with Jonny's car and the man who'd been so kind to help her.

"Wait. You invited the stranger over who fixed the car?" Concern was heavy in Cyn's voice, and Evie half expected a lecture to follow.

Despite knowing each other since childhood, Cynthia had taken on the role of her protector since Evie's family was no longer in the picture. The war had claimed Evie's father, and brother—although they'd never found her brother, Jimmy after he disappeared behind enemy lines. Evie never lost hope that Jimmy would one day be found, Cynthia though, was certain her husband was never coming home. After Cyn’s brother, Charlie, died at Normandy Cynthia had difficulty believing anyone was going to make it home. As for Evie's mother, losing a child and her husband to the war was too much for her tender heart and she passed not long after. Ever since, Cynthia was overcome with the need to act as Evie's guardian.

"He wouldn't let me pay him," Evie explained. "So I'm making him dinner—it seemed like the least I could do."

"I suppose…." Cynthia didn't sound convinced, if anything she sounded slightly irritated there was no quick way for her to argue the logic. "Just be careful, Evie. You don't know this guy—he could be another Jonny Doyle. Or worse."

"He's not," Evie said quickly. She wanted nothing more than to tell her friend all about how benevolent Mer was, but she decided against it. Cynthia would only argue that point somehow.

A long pause followed, and Evie wedged the receiver between her ear and shoulder so her hands were free to work on the meal.

"So, what are you cooking?" This time, there was a hint of jest in her friend's tone when she spoke.

The art of cooking was one creative outlet that Evie struggled with, second only to music. In her youth, her mother did all the cooking—it was a passion of her mother's—thus Evie had done little more than watch in wonder as her mother whipped up meal after meal effortlessly. Breakfast she the meal she was probably best at, apple pies too, but anything beyond that Evie required a step by step guide to prepare. And even then she lacked confidence. Thankfully, when she'd fled south, she remembered to grab her mother's cookbook. It was a cumbersome tome with yellowed pages and notes scribbled into the margins: a piece of art itself cultivated over years of collecting recipe after recipe starting the moment her mother stepped off the boat that brought her from Ireland. And like a witch and her spellbook, Evie depended on it.

"Spaghetti with garlic bread," Evie admitted feeling as though the meal lacked a certain something.

Pasta was something she knew held a low degree of difficulty when it came to preparing. Surely she couldn't mess up pasta.

“Mmm, I can almost smell it,” Cynthia said.

“Shut up.”

“No, seriously,” Cyn replied. “You’re mom’s spaghetti recipe was always my favorite.”

A doleful smile pulled at the corners of her lips, thinking back to her mother happily cooking in the kitchen as she sang a Celtic tune. It seemed strange that those moments would never again play out, instead they’d become bittersweet memories Evie could only relive in her mind.

“Mine too,” she murmured, suddenly missing her family.

Neither of them said anything for a moment, and Evie’s mind roamed the dregs of her grief before blinking back into reality and the hope of something happy to come.

“I need to go, Cyn,” Evie told her friend with a sigh. “I don’t want to burn the garlic bread.”

Cynthia chuckled and said her goodbye, only after making Evie promise to call her in the morning to let her know how everything went.

With her second hand restored after hanging up, Evelyn reached for her mother’s cookbook to give the steps another look over to ensure she had done everything and added every herb and ingredient she was supposed to. She’d followed everything perfectly, even factoring in the little notes scribbled into the margins left there by her mother—those she smiled at fondly and traced the fading ink with her fingers. Everything was as it should be. Even so, without a taste, Evie knew the sauce she had prepared would never be as savory as what her mother made so effortlessly.

“You were the artist in the kitchen, Ma,” she said with a shrug. “I’ll stick to paper and canvas.”

For the smallest of a moment Evie thought she would hear the warmth of her mother’s laugh, and when it never came she sighed again, trying not to dwell on the shadows behind her. What mattered was the light ahead.

Despite her lack of confidence, the meal came together without any severe hiccups. The noodles were not overcooked, the sauce was a complementing mix of savory and sweet (though, as she had guessed after a tiny taste, was not nearly as good as her mother's) and the garlic bread was nicely golden. A small tingle of pride manifested in the form of a surprised, but satisfied, smile as she surveyed the dinner before her.

“Not bad, Ev,” she told herself, knowing her mother would have been delighted.

With the cooking done, Evie threw a glance over her shoulder to the clock mounted on the wall, triggering a surge of anxiety to bubble in her gut. Stranger, perhaps, was the amount of excitement coursing through her veins. It was as though all of her happiness was riding on whether or not she would see Merriell again. None of it made sense; the man was little more than a stranger. The coupling of nerves and delight was not a feeling that put her ill at ease, however. She trusted it. And it was that peculiar sensation that seemed to fuel her movements.

With a few minutes to spare, Evie wandered into the small bathroom to freshen up. She made sure her hair was still pinned the way she liked—up and pretty. Her make-up was holding up nicely despite the heat; all she needed was a fresh layer of lipstick to complete the illusion of a put-together young lady. It wasn't often she wore a dress with heels and a face of cosmetics—she liked to when the opportunity arose, but she was just as comfortable in a pair of old overalls and smudges of charcoal on her face.

Just as she wiggled back into her red pumps—discarding her worn-in house slippers with a couple of calculated kicks—a knock on the door signaled Merriells arrival. Immediately a grin curled onto Evie's lips and her heart began to pound an anxious-excited rhythm. A blush threatened to color her cheeks to give away the torrid muscle beating in her chest—her ever yearning heart already making leaps and bounds for a man she had known for mere hours.

Don't be ridiculous—she warned herself taking in a deep breath to curb the eagerness coursing in her veins. Untying her apron, she tossed it along with her discarded slippers and went to answer the door, taking one last deep breath to steady the fervor in her heart.

Merriell had changed and showered. The sweet bouquet of his shampoo coupled invitingly with the musk of the aftershave he'd chosen, making it difficult for Evie to keep from soaking in the scent he carried. His curls were still somewhat damp—too much moisture in the air to keep the heat from drying them on his way over—though they fought to spring back into their previous fluff. The grease-covered, jeans he'd been wearing had been replaced by a nice pair of tan slacks, and the buttoned shirt he wore was a soft shade of green that made his eyes glitter a deeper emerald as he stood under the glow of the porch light. All Evie could do was stare—utterly beguiled—every rational thought in her head lost to her.

Mer smirked, amused by her ogling. "Hiya."

Evie blinked, coming back to reality, suddenly feeling foolish, and uttered a nervous "hi" before swinging her arm to invite him inside.

"Come in."

Merriell's smile grew as he crossed the threshold, inhaling deeply. "Mm, smells tasty in here."

He gently forced a bottle into her hands as he passed on his way to investigate the savory smells in the kitchen.

"I wasn' sho what ya was makin', but I figured wine usually goes with anythin'."

"Oh, thank you." Evie glanced at the label, unable to read the French words printed there. "You didn't have to bring anything."

"I know," Mer shrugged, placing his hands in his pockets. "I just wanted to make a good impression."

There was something almost boyish when he smiled then—cheeks coloring pink ever-so-slightly—that made him even more of a mystery. One Evie was eager to solve.

"Well," she said placing the bottle on the kitchen table. "It should go perfectly with dinner."

His expression lost a hint of its boyish charm as it grew into a look of delight.

"Make yourself at home," Evie gestured vaguely between the table and the sofa in the living room as she ventured to the cabinet where the stemware was kept.

She placed two crystal glasses on the table along with the wine and retraced her steps to fetch some of the nicer china Jonny's grandmother had kept. Mer watched her, his gaze, gentle and attentive, and a little bit yearning as she methodically sat the table.

"Need help with anythin'?" he asked finally.

"Nope," She replied with a smile. "Everything is almost ready."

The hearty red sauce on the stove was beginning to boil again which told her it was hot enough to serve, and Evie eyed the pot with scrutiny, praying silently her attempt at cooking would go over well.

"I'll pour us a glass then," Mer announced.

"Great, lemme…" Evie spun to fish for the corkscrew in the drawer of misfit utensils, finding it, only to turn to see Merriell holding his lighter against the neck of the dark bottle just below the cork.

Before she could ask, a loud pop sounded, causing her to jump as the cork went flying.

"Oh my goodness!" she laughed, a little surprised, a little impressed. "Where did you learn to do that?"

Mer shrugged, a sly expression on his features, and left her question unanswered.

"How much ya want?" He held the open bottle over the top of her glass, waiting patiently.

"Enough," she said, tossing him a coy smirk without really meaning to.

He bit his lower lip as he smiled, chuckling under his breath when he poured a generous glass of red wine for each of them. She thanked him as he took his seat and grabbed his plate to dish out their dinner.

"How much pasta would you like?"

Mer's face lit with charm and mischief as he turned to face her.

"Enough," he grinned.

The expression on his face was playful, his smirk devious and amused by his own response and his cheekiness settled warmly in Evie's stomach. Not only did she revel in it, but she also played into his whimsy and scooped as much spaghetti into his plate as she could before coupling it with the savory sauce and a slice of bread.

Despite being only strangers, the atmosphere that bloomed that evening was not marked by any hint of bashfulness, instead, it was relaxed and amiable. Warmth that Evie had longed to dwell in again—that unrefutable kindness she'd lost with the passing of her family—flowed uninhibited from the man sitting adjacent to her. His conversation was cautious but still jovial and genuine. It was the first time since running south Evie could recall what life felt like without grief and fear weighing upon her. Merriell was a stranger, but she felt safe with him. Jonny had never made her feel that way.

"So," Evie spoke as she twirled the last bit of pasta with her fork. "What is it you do, Mr. Shelton?"

Mer cast her a look of disapproval—no doubt in retaliation to being addressed so formally—before his features softened back into a neutral, yet somehow still amused side smirk.

"Nothin' too excitin'," he stated vaguely. "The odd jobs are what I like ta do the most—like fixin' ya car this aftah noon."

Without really meaning to, Evie leaned forward, resting her elbow and chin on the table, utterly enchanted by the beautiful stranger at her table.

"You like to get your hands dirty, huh? Fixing things?" she was entirely too intrigued with the thought of what he could do with his hands.

He shrugged, suddenly modest after a foray of playfully arrogant smirks and glances. It made him abruptly twice as charming.

"I've always had a knack for it, I guess." Merriell finished the food on his plate with the help of his remaining garlic bread to mop up the sauce still left on his dish.

"What about you?" he asked after chewing. "Ya workin' anywhere?"

All at once, a proud smile lit up Evie's face. After all the excitement of seeing Merriell again, she'd almost forgotten about her good news.

"Actually, I just got a job today—the general store downtown, Southern Comfort."

Mer's face lit up too, "Birdie's place?"

"Yeah, you know it?" Of course, he knows it! She thought, Bridge City's population was slightly less than the number of people who lived in a single district back home in New York. Everyone knew everyone else.

"Sho do—I was practically raised there…ole Birdie's like a second mothah to me."

"Really?" Evie found a great deal of comfort in that notion. In fact the more she thought on it, the more she realized how similar the old woman and Mer were; they radiated the same magnetism and sincerity.

"Mmhm," he nodded, his eyes focusing elsewhere as the veil of memories danced across the contours of his features. "My mama used ta work there…once upon a time…"

"Does she still work there?"

Merriell's face lost a hit of its levity and he swallowed as though to fight off the onslaught of sudden emotion threatening to cast a shadow onto his expression.

"No…" he said softly. "She—uh—she died, about a year ago."

Shit!

Abruptly, sick knots twisted into Evie's stomach, feeling callous, but understanding of the quiet misery he hid under layers of charm and arrogance.

"Merriell, I'm…I'm sorry—I didn't mean…"

He met her eyes and cast her a quick smile—doleful, but enough to ease the awful feeling in the pit of her stomach.

"It's okay," he reassured her, reaching for his glass of wine and taking a good gulp before changing the subject. "Birdie's great—you'll enjoy workin' for her."

"I hope so…" Evie said softly, still too embarrassed to meet Mer's glance longer than a second or two.

For the first time all night the atmosphere they shared felt cumbersome—perhaps more melancholy—than she'd wanted it to get. Evie sat, worrying her bottom lip, her fingers toying with a loose thread in the table cloth as she stole quick glances through her lashes in Mer's direction.

He was nursing the alcohol in his glass with the same sadness she'd caught plaguing him as he sat at the bar hours ago. And while Evie was eager to know if his grief stemmed only from the loss of his mother, or perhaps more, Merriell was still too much of a stranger to warrant such questions. It didn't matter how easy it was to be near him, she had not earned the right to know his narrative.

A soft sigh broke past her lips as she fought to find a way to properly allay the gloom that was quickly ruining an otherwise wonderful evening. It wasn't until her eyes found their desert sitting on the counter, waiting to save the day, that she perked up.

"Got any room for apple pie?" Evie asked with a hesitant smile. She hoped he wanted to stay long enough to have a slice, though she would not have blamed him for wanting to leave.

Immediately Mer perked up too, the shadows on his features retreating with the promise of something sweet.

"I was countin' on it—seems as how you promised a slice earlier," he said with a boyish grin.

When she stood, he did too, helping clear away their dinner plates, and letting them soak in the sink to be washed later. Evie cut them each a slice of apple pie and the delight on Mer’s face made her smile too seeing him lick his lips as his grin continued to grow. Catching that flash of his tongue was like a bolt of hot lightning striking her without warning; a blush rose so quickly on her cheeks Evie had to look away to keep the blunder a secret. Thankfully, the pie was more than enough to hold Merriell’s attention away from her.

“Mmmm… Almost looks too good to eat,” he said ogling the desert in front of him.

When Evie chanced a look his way, the expression on his face caused her to chuckle, “‘oughta be, I made one for my pa every year for his birthday since I was nine. It’s probably the only thing I have any confidence in making in the kitchen.”

“Coulda fooled me,” Mer quipped as he loaded his fork with as much pie as he could.

The moment he took a bite, his brows creased, and eyes closed as he chewed painfully slow. Those few seconds were like agony. Evie’s heart was pounding in her chest with so much anticipation she feared she might faint as she watched him sample the only thing she could actually make that was worth a damn.

“Fuck me, if that ain’t the best apple pie I’ve evah had the pleasure of tasting.”

A somewhat nervous, but relieved chuckle sounded in the back of Evelyn’s throat as she watched Merriell shovel a larger bite of pie into his mouth.

“Mmm… Yep. God damn delightful.”

“Stop,” Evie said sheepishly, suddenly afraid he was overselling his reaction to keep from hurting her feelings.

“No,” he wiped his mouth and leaned across the table to meet her gaze with a sincere expression that stole away all the doubt writhing in her stomach.

“I mean it. If I wasn’t so full of pasta, I’d eat that whole damn pie right now.”

“Well,” Evie grinned softly, trying not to let her blush color her cheeks too obviously. “Thank you. And you’re welcome to take the rest of it when you go.”

Excitement took form on his face with a smirk that was sweet but roguish all at once—a sort of debonair charm that amplified his magnetism—as if his bright eyes dark curls and razor-sharp jaw did not make him alluring enough already. Again she had to look away knowing the pink in her cheeks would be too strong to combat.

“Imma have ta take ya up on that offah. An’ I’ll be thinkin’ ‘bout you every time I cut me a slice.”

That blush was unstoppable; her heart was suddenly so smitten, it felt as though butterflies were fluttering merrily in her stomach. She felt weightless with warmth and hope swelling in her bosom, fearing any slight breeze would carry her off. It was ridiculous how at ease Evie felt sitting there eating pie with a complete stranger. The conversation had been easy all night; even when it had delved into less savory topics he still made her feel comfortable. Evelyn had forgotten what it was like to be in the company of a man who wasn’t easy to anger, who was genuine and kind and wanted only to live in the moment.

For a time the whimsy of the atmosphere faded as the warmth in her heart ached, suddenly missing her brother James and Cynthia's brother Charlie. Both of them were good men, kind and genuine—like Merriell—but they had been swallowed by the rages of war. Brave young men were lost forever, while a man like Jonny Doyle was still alive How was that fair?

No matter how pleasant her thoughts could be, they always fell back to the grief that plagued her. She sighed, deeply, pushing those intrusive memories back into the depths of her mind so she could find joy once more in the moment with a kind stranger.

When Merrill finished his plate he made a beeline for the sink full of soaking dishes.

“Oh, no,” she said jumping to her feet. “I can do those.”

Merriell, however, shook his head. “Uh-uh, you did the cookin’, I can do the cleanin’.”

When Evie tried to argue, Mer simply shook his head, his grin amused but determined as he kept scrubbing the dirty dishes.

“Let me help at least,” she suggested. “I’ll dry and put them away.”

Before he could protest, she snatched the freshly rinsed dish from his hand and began wiping away the droplets of water clinging to the porcelain surface, throwing him a smug smirk that made him chuckle.

“Alright,“ he smirked.

She watched him for a moment not really paying attention to her task as he scrubbed the old plates clean, overcome with a blissful vision of peaceful domesticity. It made her stomach fill to the brim with whimsy and her heart was fluttering again; had this stranger bewitched her already? Or did what she feel bubbling lightly in her gut like a seltzer stem from an end to her loneliness—even if it was only for a few hours? Evelyn didn’t know. Nevertheless, she was intrigued with a profound feeling and she wanted to dwell in it for as long as she could.

Occasionally as he would hand a freshly washed dish her way, his calloused fingertips would brush against her skin, igniting a spark she didn’t know how to react to. It was more than an amicable tingle racing from the tips of her fingers right to her heart. And each time they touched, Merriell would cast her a gentle smile that held nothing more than his inherent charm and magnetism. She wondered if he felt it too, or if her need for companionship was playing a dirty trick on her.

When the dishes were all back in their usual places—the night drawing to a close—Evelyn realized she was not ready to say farewell to her Beautiful Stranger. She longed to stay up all night just chatting with him, she did not care about what, Evelyn only wanted to stay encompassed a while longer in the blissful warmth he brought into her life. Once he was gone, all she would be able to do was stay up and ponder the significance of those little touches and the sparks they brought.

Thankfully, Merriell lingered on the old rickety porch, one hand in his pocket, the other holding onto his plate of leftover pie, seeming to stall their inevitable departure.

“Well,” he said with a grin. “Thank you for invitin’ a stranger ovah for dinna.” He paused, glancing at the leftover pie in his hand. “Can’t recall ever having a better plate of pasta, an’ nothin’ evah gonna beat this pie.”

Evie quickly looked at her feet to hide another blush.

“It was the least I could do,” she told him before looking back to meet his eyes. “You have no idea how much of a savior you were this afternoon…”

A glint of concern flashed in his eye, his brows beginning to crease as his unspoken question lingered between them.

She thought about telling him—telling him how Jonny was nothing more than a throne in her side, and how much she cherished Merriells company—but Mer was still a stranger. It wasn’t right to unload so much onto someone she’d only known for a few hours.

Before Mer could offer any reply, the sound of screeching tires stole all their focus as an old wagon pulled along the curb—narrowly missing a collision with the mailbox. The rowdy passengers were laughing and shouting loud enough even before the door opened to let Jonny stumble out. He staggered on drunk feet and screamed a handful of profanities to his buddies in the car which made them all roar with laughter.

It was only after the wagon full of hooligans pulled away that Jonny began to stagger towards the house, and it was exactly then that Evie’s fluttering heart became consumed with panic.

She and Mer watched him cross the yard, unseen, both frozen: Evie in fear and Merriell in confusion. Jonny’s intoxication level inhibited him from taking notice of them until he was at the base of the steps leading onto the porch. Immediately, his eyes narrowed and he frowned.

“Who the hell are you?”

“Jonny, this is Mr. Merriell Shelton,” Evie said quickly, willing her voice not to shake.

The Doyle’s were not known for their hospitality, nor were they known to trust most people. Especially strangers.

“He helped me this afternoon with a bit of trouble I was having,” she explained vaguely, hoping to thwart any more suspicion. “I made him dinner to say thank you—he’s just about to leave.”

Jonny eyed Merriell, seizing him up as best he could through drunken lenses. Mer stood his ground, eyeing him back with a subtle intensity that never so much as cracked under Jonny’s scrutiny.

Finally, being the better man, Mer held out his hand in a friendly manner, “nice ta meet ya.”

Jonny cast a prolonged glare at Merriell's open hand, his brows furrowed and part of his lip hiked up in a sort of snarl. Instead of returning the kind gesture, Jonny made a show of spitting at his feet before tossing his heavy leer at Evelyn.

"Evie, do not invite any more strangers into my house. I don't care if they are dying." He shoved past them both, purposely bumping Mer's shoulder (most likely in hopes to start something) muttering as he went: "I don't trust any of these filthy southerners."

Shock sent Evie's jaw slack; this time the redness in her cheeks was a symptom of embarrassment instead of infatuation. She should have known Jonny would say something rude and uncouth. Without another thought, she grabbed Mer by his sleeve and pulled him across the lawn until they stood next to his truck parked along the curb.

"I am so sorry about him," she said, crossing her arms and glaring at Jonny's house, ashamed and angry.

Mer shrugged as he placed his partially eaten pie in the passenger seat through the open window before fixing his hands in his front pockets.

"Ya boyfriend's a bit of an asshole."

"He is not my boyfriend," Evie corrected vehemently. "I don't think he knows that though. I'm just staying here until I can figure some things out."

Merriell was quiet a moment, nodding silently. It seemed as though he was taking his time processing the whole situation. There was compassion on his face and behind his eyes, but it was guarded somehow. Evie caught it though and she was grateful when he didn't ask the questions plainly forming in his mind.

"Well," he said finally, his tone light as one corner of his mouth quirked into a grin. "Since he ain't ya othah half, I feel more inclined ta leave ya with this…"

Gently, Merriell caressed her upper arm as he leaned forward to plant a tender kiss on her cheek. He let his lips linger slightly longer than was common for such an act, that all at once wove a new hopefulness into her heart.

"Dinna was swell," he added as he pulled away, his smile somehow more charming than it had been all night. "Hope I see ya again, Evie."

"Me too," she murmured.

Evie watched as he got in his truck to leave, her hand held to the cheek he'd graced with his kiss. And when he drove away, it took everything inside of her to keep from running after him.

#Beautiful Stranger Series #Merriell Shelton x Original Character #Merriell Shelton #Snafu Shelton #HBO War #The Pacific #The Pacific Fanfiction #Rami Malek Fanfiction

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theonewiththefanfics · 3 years

Text

Because Hearts Get Broken (Part 1/3)

Synopsis: When your whole life you’ve been taught to push your feelings away, it’s hard to open up, even to the people you trust most. And sometimes what you give isn’t enough.

Pairing: Harry Styles x fem!Reader

Genre: angst

Warnings: sad. just angsty and sad. swearing; emotionally closed reader

Word count: 2904

Y/N had never been the kind of person who talks about her feelings. It didn’t matter if it was friends or family; her mindset was – they’re my problems, so you don’t have to worry your head about it.

In relationships, it wasn’t any better, in fact, it was kinda worse. It was extremely difficult for the girl to open up to her partner, which in turn she’d let so many possible relationships pass her by. Not to mention, when she was in one, they slowly deteriorated because of her inability to share with them. Which is why it didn’t come as much of a surprise when it happened between her and Harry.

Somehow unconsciously Y/N had been almost preparing herself, preparing her heart for it to break. When he walked inside his place, she’d been there to prepare them a meal in. They’d both had a stressful couple of weeks with Harry starting off on a new album endeavour, while Y/N’s boss was practically threatening to rip her head off, as she scrambled to finish everything, even though the deadlines were months away.

It just all kind of came crashing down on her when her boss suddenly called her up, telling her to rush back to the office, and when Y/N asked if it could wait until the morning, the ultimatum came that if she wanted her job, she’d do it then and there.

“Hey.” She hadn’t heard Harry come in, only noticed it when his arm wrapped around her shaking shoulders. “Hey, shh, come ‘ere.”

Slowly, he laid the two of them down, letting her head be tucked beneath his chin, as his palm rubbed soothing circles on her back. “ ‘S gonna be okay, dove. ‘S gonna be alright. Come on, now.”

They laid like that for about five minutes, until Y/N pushed her face away from Harry’s chest and laid her cheek there, taking in a few short, shaky breaths, and steadying herself by placing her palm on his chest and feeling the steady thuds of his heart.

“Wanna talk about it?” he muttered in her Y/H/C locks, placing a soft kiss to the crown of her head, but she sighed, shaking her head no.

“ ‘S fine. Overreacted.”

“You were sitting on the couch, crying and hyperventilating, dove. Obviously, something’s wrong.”

“Harry,” Y/N let out a long breath. “Can you please just let it go? It’s nothing major. If it was, I’d tell you.”

“Would you though?” The whisper went almost unnoticed, but Y/N did hear it, and it made her eyebrows furrow and push herself up from where they’d been nestled together.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I mean.” Harry bit the inside of the cheek. “When is the last time you ever told me what’s bothering you? Like really, truly made you upset?”

“What are you implying?” Y/N’s voice had gone steely, almost emotionless, as her brain pretty much screamed ‘it’s happening’.

“How can I help you when you don’t let me in?” His gaze was pleading, as his hands grasped onto her cheeks.

“You’re not supposed to.”

“Pardon?”

Y/N sighed and stood up from the couch, letting his touch fall away. “You’re not supposed to. They’re my problems to deal with, not yours, so you’re not supposed to help me. And there’s nothing to help me with.”

“Do you not trust me?”

“Of course, I trust you,” she scoffed as if it was the most ridiculous question in the world. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“How are we supposed to be in a relationship, if you don’t trust me?”

“I dunno,” Y/N whispered hugging herself. Sometimes she hated how her brain worked, but it was inevitable, right? It always came to this, so why not be the bad guy in the situation. “Maybe we’re not supposed to then.”

Harry was more than stunned at her reply. Not once during their relationship, he'd thought that her immediate reaction to a problem would be to immediately dismiss their love. "You - you don't mean that."

"Well," Y/N sniffled wiping at her cheeks where new tears were trailing down, "maybe I do. Maybe this whole thing was a mistake. I mean they do say the first year is spent with rose-coloured glasses on, right? 'S time to take 'em off."

“So that’s it? You’re giving up just like that?”

“What do you want me to do?” Y/N exasperated throwing her hands up. “It’s the way I am, and I can’t change that. And if you can’t accept it, then yeah, maybe I am giving up just like that.”

Harry shook his head in disbelief. “I –,” he stammered, “I can’t believe this.”

“What do you want from me, Harry?”

“To fight!” He was practically yelling at this point, hoping to see some kind of emotion on Y/N’s face. “To let me in! To – to – fuck! To start trusting me!”

“I do trust you!”

“But not enough to trust me with your heart.”

A deafening silence fell over both of them because without needing a confirmation, Harry knew he’d struck gold. God, how he wished he hadn’t, but the numb expression Y/N's face morphed into told him enough.

“I’m giving you what I can.” Y/N’s voice was quiet, resolute. “And if that’s not something you can accept, then this is it.”

Now Harry was the silent one. But sometimes you don’t need words to say everything you mean.

“Okay then.” She nodded, went to the mantlepiece and took her clutch. “I’ll see ya around, I guess.”

And with that Y/N walked out of Harry’s apartment without a glance back.

***

Two and a half months later and he still couldn’t understand how everything had gone so wrong. He was at the New Year party, and Y/N was there too, courtesy of Sarah, who was their mutual friend and hosted it each year. This one was a lot more intimate, seeing as the pandemic, though contained, was still raging on, so only the closest and most important people in her life had been invited. Sarah'd been actually the one who introduced the two. Well, more so given them a shove in the right direction. A literal one at that.

The night had been absolute chaos and became an even bigger one when Y/N entered his life, Harry recalled. Drinks were flowing, bodies were moving in an erratic rhythm, most of them completely unaware of how the music boomed while voices shouted the incorrect lyrics and glasses clinked as everyone celebrated the upcoming year, buzzing with excitement as they waited for the countdown. That’s when Sarah, pulling a woman by her arm stormed towards Harry and pushed her into his chest.

“Do not let her leave your sight!” she’d hollered over the music, as Harry blinked at his drummer. “And you!” Sarah pointed at the woman, who giggled, hiding behind her champagne glass and slinking further down Harry’s frame, so much so, he had to grab onto her armpits otherwise she would fall. “Behave for at least five minutes! I need to check up on Mitch before he decides vodka would be a good addition and completely destroys the room.”

With that Sarah was gone, brown hair swishing in a high ponytail, leaving Harry confused and concerned as this stranger snickered behind Sarah’s back, showing her tongue like a child would.

“Umm,” he started not really knowing what to do. “You alright there?”

“ ‘M Y/N.” She leaned up with as much grace as a drugged-up cat, spun around to face him and extended her hand to him, and he took it, giving it a firm shake. “And I might be a lil’ bit drunk.”

A chuckle escaped his lips. “You don’t say?”

“I do.” Y/N nodded confidently about her statement as she swayed on her feet. Harry had to grab her by the shoulder for the woman to remain somewhat upright. “And when I’m drunk, I thrive on chaos.”

“Is that why Sarah shoved you to me so I can babysit you?”

“See, she just doesn’t appreciate me and my talents. She thinks that I’m ‘unreliable’.” Y/N put the word in quotation marks, and in doing so, half her champagne spilt out of the flute. “And she thinks I need ‘supervision’.” There went the other half. “Honestly, it’s Sarah that needs to be looked after. It’s not me that set the curtains on fire.”

But the look on her face told Harry something different, and a smile bloomed on his face. “You set the curtains on fire?”

“I just told you, I didn’t.”

“Yes, well, your face is telling me a different story.”

Instantly Y/N facepalmed. “Stupid face. Can’t keep in check. Listen, the curtains were just…” She waved her hand around. “In the way of the flame. ‘S not my fault they’re made from such flammable material. Should’ve gotten more fire-resistant curtains, if you ask me.”

“Note taken – don’t let you near anything that can be set on fire or is fire.”

Y/N scoffed and gave Harry a side-eye. “As if you can tell me what to do. I shouldn’t even be talking to you.”

“And why's that?”

“Stranger danger.” Y/N wagged her free index finger in Harry’s face accentuating each syllable.

“Well then, let’s not be strangers.” He extended his hand just as Y/N had and waited until she took it. “ ‘M name’s Harry.”

“Good to meet you, Harry. Now, Sarah said nothing about not letting me dance, so come on! I love this song!” she exclaimed, making Harry throw his head back in laughter as she dragged him to the middle of the room, bodies grinding against them, but it didn’t really matter. Not when Y/N made Harry feel as if it was just the two of them in the world.

“Do you now?”

“Yes! Especially when he does the ‘da – dananana da – dananana’ part.” Her eyes went wide with excitement and pride. “Sarah’s in this song as well! She's the drummer!”

His eyebrow quirked up in amusement. Y/N clearly had no idea who she was talking to, and he was kind of loving her for it. Most of the time, as flattering as it was, it could become quite taxing when people recognised you with every step of the way. He wasn’t really allowed to have his smile leave his face, nor was he allowed to stay too lost in his thoughts, needing to be on constant alert if someone asked something.

But Y/N seemed to not care, and something in Harry told him – she wouldn’t care about it if she knew the truth.

“Wanna hear a secret?”

Y/N gasped, eyes twinkling in the disco ball light. “Of course! I love secrets.”

“I’m Harry!”

“I know you’re Harry. You said it already.”

Her confused face made his smile widen even more. “No, I mean I’m Harry. Harry Styles. This is my song.”

And then it dawned on her inebriated brain. “Ooh. You’re Harry Styles!”

“Yeah.”

“Good for you then!” And she put up her hand in a high-five, and he couldn’t leave her just hanging like that, belly-shaking laughter erupting from him before he weaved their fingers together and spun her around.

That night had been one of the best New Year’s he’d ever had. Throughout the hour before the clock struck 12, she’d sobered up enough that when Harry asked if he could kiss her, she was coherent and could say yes. It’d been the best kiss of their lives by that point.

But now, seeing Y/N walk around Sarah’s apartment a smile on her face that he recognised to be fake, and laughter ringing in his ears that he knew wasn’t true, made him look back at that night and wonder if she’d been truly happy then.

She definitely seemed to have been, fuck, Harry hoped she was happy for at least some of it; that when Y/N said she was alright, she’d truly meant it, otherwise, he had no idea what he’d do with himself, but in all honesty, despite the fallout between the two, what he wished was for her to come back. To give him the slightest glimpse into what worried her. That would be enough.

In the beginning, Harry supposed, it was his own fault. He’d thought Y/N was just strong, she was so level-headed that whenever something was wrong, it was tackled immediately and righted that exact second, but in truth, it was just hiding, putting on a performance and living through a smile that was a complete lie.

He saw Sarah lean into Y/N and whisper something in her ear before her head snapped in Harry’s direction, Y/E/C eyes meeting his. He then watched her let out a breath, give Sarah a small smile and look at him once more before approaching, Harry’s own back straightening out as she opened the balcony door and entered his space.

She was a vision, a black and gold glitter romper covering her body, cinched at the waist with a solid gold-colour metal band, while the sleeves fluttered off in a ‘Morticia Addams’ style, as Y/N liked to call it, with her hair out of the way of her face in a simple knot at the base of her neck. Easy to make and easy to take out.

“Bobby pins are the creations of the Devil,” she’d muttered one night after they’d gone to some Hollywood event. Harry couldn't even remember what it'd been for, most of his focus on making sure his date was alright.

One by one she'd untwisted and twirled the metal pins out of her head. “Fucking, scraping my brain from the outside of my skull.”

Harry had chuckled, untying the lace front of his blouse style shirt. “Wanna massage?”

The affirmative groan made him grin like a child on Christmas.

Y/N was the one to break the silence, after having her eyes rake over his own form. A fitted chequered suit paired with a simple dress shirt and chequered moccasins. One of the tamer looks for him, but he wasn’t feeling very festive this year.

“Hey.”

Harry sighed, putting his hands in his pockets. “Hi.”

God, how had everything become so fucking awkward between them?

“How,” she cleared her throat, “how are you?”

“Honestly?” Harry wanted to spit out the ‘I’m fine’, the line that was so overused by her it’d lost its meaning, but he couldn’t. He’d always been an open book, especially with Y/N, so he told her the truth. “I’m hurting.”

“Harry…” Her eyes met the floor unable to hold his green gaze.

“Every day I wake up, and I’m in pain. And it’s not getting easier. And it won’t. Not for a long while.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want you to be sorry.” He laughed even though he didn’t mean it. “I just wanted you to talk to me. You know I’d never judge you.”

“It’s not about that…”

“Then what is it?” Harry snapped. “Because I’m at a fucking loss here. Have been for the past two and a half months.”

“It’s not easy when…” Y/N actually bit down on her tongue to not let the words out. She took in a calm, collected breath; then she continued. “It’s not easy to open up like you want me to when my whole life I’ve been taught to just push it down. Push it away, forget about it. I don’t know a different life. That’s my normal, that’s what I know. I know you wouldn’t have judged me, you’re not that kind of a person. But it’s not even about that. It’s… it’s… why couldn’t you have just left everything at ‘I’m fine’?”

“Because I don’t want to be fine,” he said, sad eyes looking right through her, right through to Y/N’s being. “I – I wanna be great, and ecstatic and fucking exhilarated or hurting or sad, even devastated. I want to feel things. And I want to share them with the person I trust most. I wanna share them with you. And I want you to share your emotions with me too. It’s not your job to carry the weight of the world on your own. That’s what a partner is there for.”

Y/N broke away from Harry’s eyes given how her own were now lined with tears that threatened to slip down her cheeks. She sniffled, using the sleeve of her romper to press against her nose.

New Years. When the previous one had started off with so much love and hope and laughter and the new one seemed to only show it had tears and heartache ahead. God, this was the worst holiday in existence.

“Ten, nine, eight,” the people inside counted down.

“Y/N, please.” One last try. He had to.

“Seven, six, five.”

She just shrugged. “I don’t know how to be different."

“Three, two, one! Hap–“

“Happy New Year, Harry.” Y/N leaned up and pressed a lingering kiss against his cheek. “I hope you find someone who can love you the way you deserve to be loved.”

With hands in her pockets, she retreated leaving him standing alone on the balcony, but right as she was about to close the sliding door, he spoke up.

“I had.”

That made Y/N spin around, cold air hitting her face just as harshly as the truth that spilt past his lips.

“Only she didn’t trust that I loved her the same.”

Tags (crossed out wouldn’t take):

Forever tags: @lumelgy @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh @breezy1415 @crazy--me @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @s-c-a-r-e-d-po-t-t-e-r @reblogger-not-a-blogger @m-a-t-91 @dalilx @i-need-a-hero-i-need-a-loki @maladaptive-ninja-returns @averyrogers83 @in-the-end-im-still-trash @gallifreyansass @dewy-biitch @avxgers @unlikelygalaxygiver @magicwithaknife @ollyoxenfrees @bnhvrdy @tvwhoresblog @celebsimagines @thatkindofgurl @sj-thefan @teenwolflover28 @lestersglitterglue @im-squished

A/N: Part 2? maybe??

P.S. my tags are always open :)

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milkybonya · 3 years

Note

hello smiling anon here :) can i request nct 127 as boyfriends? ur astro as boyfriends post was so cute :)

Anonnie im sorry i made you wait so long TT this is the busiest week of the year so far and i had to stay focused to prepare for it, but i hope you enjoy~

NCT 127 as boyfriends ♡

link to Astro version

Warnings: food mentions

what i listened to while writing: To My Youth by BOL4

Taeil

sweet to the MAX

always singing around the house and serenading you

multiple movie nights with you in one week where you eat a whole bunch of junk food together and cuddle the entire time ;3;

becomes flustered very easily when you reach for his hand or hug him because he doesn't like skinship

but strangely with you, his heart skips a beat??

helps you when you're stressed by enveloping you in a hug and not letting go until you feel better

not overly clingy but not distant either - he's the perfect bf !!

knows when to give you space and when he needs to invade your space and give you lots of kisses >:)

not big on fancy dates, just wants to bask in your presence

wherever he is, as long as you're there, he's happy

i don't know why but i imagine his hand getting clammy when you hold it because he's so nervous,, then he gets all shy and embarrassed about it :")

Johnny

always taking photos of you

literally has a folder in his phone named '[y/n]'

so whipped for you omg he literally giggles any time you lock eyes

so EMBARRASSING cause of all the bad jokes he cracks and how tough he tries to act

"[y/n] do you wanna feel my arm muscles?"

waking up next to him each morning would involve you thinking he’s asleep and staring at him until he pulls you closer into his chest and presses his lips to your forehead ;3;

takes you on really creative dates like going to markets, going for drives, walks through unknown paths

if y’all are not seeing each other in person, he’ll constantly be texting or calling you

always sends you photos of things that remind him of you

the type to pretend he’ll give you your coat, then he doesn’t, but then he does because he loves you :”)

quite clingy in the sense that he always wants to be near you, holding your hand, hugging you, kissing you, whatever it may be

Taeyong

such a sweet and loving bf :”)

the type to buy you flowers and be that classy, romantic boyfriend

he’ll leave handwritten notes around the house and will send you good morning texts if you guys are apart from one another

the two of you are definitely the cool couple

but you’re also the couple who laughs hard about the most random things

like Taeil, knows when to give you space and when he should be there for you

will respect your sense of independence and root for you to succeed in your own things!

but also gets clingy sometimes and just wants a few hugs and kisses :”)

acts cute and pouts in front of you a lot

but only in front of you, never in public or in front of anyone else

listens carefully whenever you’re sad and lets you rest your head on his shoulder, cry all over him - he lets you do whatever you need to do to be happy again, and he’ll try his best to cheer you up too :D

Yuta

loves reading with you, it’s one of his favourite things to do :”)

sometimes just ends up staring at you which leads to him pulling you towards him which leads to cuddling while reading and for him to kiss the top of your head an infinite amount of times

omg he will let you braid his hair or play with it or do all kinds of things to it

painting each other’s nails !! and searching for unique accessories in stores!

he’ll just buy an accessory and give it to you like “i just know this will look good on you, please try it on!”

i feel like he’ll be very honest with you about everything

so you both have nights when you talk for hours about your thoughts

and in the morning forget all about it by watching something while in bed hehe

will like exercising with you from time to time so you both stay healthy!

always thinking about you and your health, both mental and physical

you might be able to convince him to get a couple outfit :o

Doyoung

Like Johnny, likes taking photos of you but does it a bit more shyly

puts on a cool front all the time but he’s quite shy ;-;

loves to bake with you and actually takes it quite seriously

he’ll chase you around if you smudge batter on his face >:)

makes home dates fancy by lighting so many scented candles that the smell actually becomes unbearable

when you go on walks together, he’ll hide behind you every time he sees a dog, and you always have to apologize to the dog owners on his behalf because he’s scared :”D

likes to lie on top of you when you cuddle, with his weight on his legs which are on either side of you so he’s not crushing you, just so he can trace the shape of your face with his fingertips

if you cry, he cries and if you laugh, he’ll laugh - i feel like that’s how he’ll comfort you, by empathizing :”)

likes to go on car rides with you where the two of you are just singing songs

always makes sure you’re eating your meals and staying hydrated - brings you food if you’re busy or forget

gets you really thoughtful gifts for special days but also throws a few meme gifts in there

Jaehyun

that bf who invites you to watch him play basketball just so he can take off his shirt in the middle of the game and watch as your face turns red

i feel like he’ll tease you in that ^ way a lot - he’s always trying to fluster you

he likes peaches so imagine going peach picking with him !! you’ll take such cute photos together and if he’s taller than you, he’ll pick all the peaches that you can’t ;3;

always trying to cheer you up whenever you’re sad - why can i picture him doing aegyo TT

this one time it rained when you were on a late night walk with him and he took off his jean jacket, held it above your heads as you ran home, but you ended up wet anyway :”)

super comforting whenever you’re sick or don’t feel good

constantly complimenting you and shows you lots of physical affection

always hugs you when he sleeps because if you’re not there, he’d just be hugging the blanket instead

not incredibly sentimental but always tries his best to show his love for you

tried to make breakfast in bed for you and dropped a whole bunch of cutlery on the floor :D

went through your phone and saved his name as ‘peach’ in it

Winwin

(this is from WayV as boyfriends, that’s why it looks a little different <3)

SOFT ANGEL

SOFT SOFT SOFT

did i mention he’s soft?

always worried about you

genuinely cares about your feelings

a lot of “are you okay?” and “you’re not mad at me, right?”

if you’re ever in a bad mood, he’ll run to the store real quick and grab your favourite food for you

A LOT OF CUDDLES AND LAZY MORNINGS

he doesn’t like skinship but loves to hold you :’)

too shy to show affection in public tho

will hold your hand at the most

even if he does that, he’ll hold your hand in your pocket because he’s so shy

pls protecc him at all costs

is willing to do anything for you

sometimes you have to ask him how he genuinely feels about something

because he can’t say no :(

please make sure you tell him you love him regularly, or he’ll be sad :(

a lot of stay-at-home dates like watching movies

watchiNG ANIME (if you like it, of course)

“let’s just do whatever you want”

wiLL CRUSH YOU IN MOBILE GAMES

“i beat you! now give me a kiss >:)”

Jungwoo

if you also like to eat, y’all will have the most epic food dates omg

literally travelling to countries just to try the food there - that’s what it will be like

most of your dates involve food, but also a lot of walking dates so you can burn it off :”)

yet also many movie nights on the days where you don’t want to walk

he’ll learn your speaking habits and will imitate you whenever you get annoyed or angry

likes to play soccer with you, even if you’re bad at it (so he can tease you), but if you’re good then he’ll enjoy trying to beat you

he’s the one who roasts you the most yet also cares for you the most

likes to kiss your neck because he can smell your natural scent, but if you hate it then he’ll do it to tease you or he’ll stop if you seriously tell him to

imitates kdrama male actors and actually makes your heart flutter by doing those things

and when you see the actors kissing in a drama,,,, you already know what he’s about to do

when you’re upset, he’ll hug you tightly and stay with you until you feel better

Mark

y’all have a shared playlist that you always add songs to so you can listen to it during car rides or when cuddling

he keeps everything and anything you give him, whether it be a candy wrapper, flowers, a belt, shoes, anything

prepares really sweet gifts for you - a lot of songs or meaningful things

claims that you’re his muse and sometimes just stares at you for 5 minutes whenever you drop by his studio

“you’re my sun, i’m photosynthesizing so just stay right there”

he’s shy and gets flustered easily when you kiss or hug him, even when you just hold his hand

you have a tradition with him each fall where you go to a park, gather all the leaves to make a pile so you can dive into it

usually ends with you falling on top of him and the two of you just laying there for a long time

voice calls that last for more than 8 hours will become a thing when you date him :”)

always jokes about things related to marriage like ‘wow imagine if we had our wedding here’ and laughs awkwardly but he’d actually love to marry you

takes you on trips that he claims are for him to get inspiration for music writing but he really just wants to spend time with you

Haechan

you already know what you’ve signed up for, right? chaos, absolute chaos - but in the best way

super clingy, always holding onto your arm or hand

whines when you don’t give him hugs or attention

bought a big plushie that reminded him of you so he can hug it when you’re not there and he misses you

he’s such a baby omg he’ll love being babied by you

makes hand crafted, diy gifts that clearly have his entire heart and soul in them

likes singing karaoke songs with you because if too you’re shy to sing alone, at least when he sings with you, he can hear a bit of your voice

cannot live if you’re sad or upset - he’ll do anything to help you feel better

cuddling is his favourite thing on this planet and he’ll wrap his legs around you so the two of you become an entangled mess, yet somehow are still comfortable

texts you random things like ‘i just saw a dog’ but also says stuff like that out loud to you

acts strong and cool sometimes like when you’re watching horror movies but fails miserably :(

ah, have you made it to the bottom? thank you for reading <3 were you by any chance looking for a sign? because this is it, this is your sign. i wish you luck with whatever it is that you must or must not do ;3;

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igotbulletproof-insomnia · 3 years

Text

Adopting Bangtan 06

01, 02, 03, 04, 05

Park Jimin & Kim Taehyung, age 8

Song Jieun is your favorite secretary at the school you work at. She’s like some coffee fairy the way she seems to magically know exactly when you need a fresh cup and you only needed to tell her how you liked it exactly one time. She is also endearingly sweet and hardworking, even if she has a penchant for losing things easily. It’s for that very reason why you are rarely surprised when Jieun approaches your desk in the staff room, like she does now, wearing a sheepish smile.

“What did you lose this time?” you question teasingly.

“I… may have misplaced a few copies of the kids’ grade reports…” she winces at the admission. “I think I threw them away by accident. I spent some time clearing out my things yesterday.”

“That’s right, my coffee fairy is moving to Gwangju,” your face twitches into a brief, playful pout. “How are the boys dealing with the change?”

“They’re fine,” she says quickly. “I’m a bit worried, but they’ll be okay, I’m sure.”

“Why, what’s wrong?” you ask, beginning to sign the small stack of papers. You flip the bottom half of the sheets up just enough to see the line at the bottom that you need to sign. You read them all just a few days ago, there’s no need to do it again.

“My fiance has been hinting that he doesn’t want to raise any step-children,” she explains, her voice tense with worry. “He’s especially concerned about my step-son from my last marriage… Heesung wants me to leave them in a boarding school here in Seoul. He’ll pay for their tuition but… I don’t really feel comfortable. They’re so young... I just don’t want him to leave me this close to the wedding.”

“He’s an idiot if he wants to leave you for being a good mother,” you tell Jieun firmly, but gently. “But I guess I understand the concern. I know you’ll do what’s best for the kids, you’re a good woman like that.” You pause, then flash another teasing smile. “I mean, you could just give them to me. I’m apparently running an orphanage at home.”

“Your boys are still bringing home strays?”

“I think I’ve gotten them to understand that they can’t bring home every sad kid and expect me to keep them. They usually have to go home eventually.” You finish signing the last of the forms.

“They have big hearts, I’m sure they learned that from you.”

“Yes, I taught them how to love,” you scoff indignantly. “If only they would learn to pee in the toilet, I might be a little nicer.”

“You love them,”

“Yes, I really do.”

Saturday evenings are chaotic.

As the parent of four preteen boys (and one first grader), almost everyday is chaotic. There is homework and music and video games and dance practice and guitar playing and piano lessons and why are all of these kids so dramatic, you didn’t raise them like this!

“Yah, I have three years more experience than you, how are you going to tell me --”

“Hyung, the answer is literally right there,” Namjoon sniggered, pointing.

“Listen, you brat --”

“The only brat I see here is you, Seokjin,” you sigh, breezing into the kitchen. Seokjin and Namjoon are perched on stools at the kitchen island, occupied with their homework. They were both clever kids, but Seokjin tended to get frustrated easily, and Namjoon was too quick for his own good. The two fought a lot, but they also depended on one another a lot; Namjoon would help Seokjin with the parts of his homework that became too frustrating and Seokjin would fluster Namjoon to the point where the kid acted his own age. “The others finished already?”

“Yoongi decided to stay at school and work with his friends,” Seokjin answers. “Hoseokie is playing with Kookie in their room. I think they’re building.”

“Okay, good,” you nod, “but that doesn’t explain why the TV is blasting Epik High.” Seokjin doesn’t bother verbalizing an answer, just turns to pointedly stare at Namjoon.

“They make good music!”

“And I am not arguing that point,” you agree. “I’m just saying that I could hear Mithra all the way down the hall before I even got to our floor.”

“That’s impossible, the volume isn’t that loud.”

“Namjoon,” Hoseok comes running into the kitchen. “You need to turn the music down our --” Hoseok stops in his tracks, almost slipping on the kitchen tile. “Oh, hi!”

“What were you saying, Hoseok-ah?”

“Um… I got a text, Joonie. Turn the music down.”

“Uh-huh, and how long ago did I send that text?”

“Uhm… about seven minutes ago?”

“And where, Namjoon, would I have been seven minutes ago?”

“Downstairs…” Namjoon suddenly finds the kitchen lights very interesting, the expression on his face imitating innocence.

“Uh-huh. Go fix it, please,” you roll your eyes. “This is the second time I’ve had to talk to you about your music being too loud. If it happens again I’ll be a week late paying for your subscription.” The fact that it had only been a guess that Namjoon had been blasting his music again was going to go completely unmentioned.

“Got it, won’t happen again,” he calls over his shoulder.

“Hoseok-ah,” you address the kid sneaking out of the kitchen. Your tone implies he’s in trouble and he stiffens. You can practically hear him thinking, wondering which of his shenanigans you may have found out about and which ones would have actually gotten him into trouble. Hoseok is a bit of a wild child when he gets into the right mood, but for the most part he’s actually the easiest one to take care of. They’re all relatively easy and well-mannered children, but they all have their bouts of difficulty. “Please try to deliver my messages promptly, not ten minutes later.” You let the scolding settle before adding, “Also, it’s your turn to choose dinner.” The face Hoseok makes in response, the sheepish, oh, right, I forgot, grin is adorable and you can’t help but smile in response.

“Can we get takeout?”

“Depends where from,” you reply as the doorbell rings.

“Can we please not do Jiwon-ssi’s dumplings again? I’m going to be sick,” Seokjin whines.

“Jiwon-ssi makes the best kimchi!”

You leave the boys to argue in the kitchen while you go answer the doorbell, which rings for the second time. Whoever is at the door is awfully impatient, you think, either that or just obnoxious. The apartment isn’t that big, although it is the biggest one you could find on your budget. Three bedrooms, one toilet, a balcony, kitchen, and living room. Yoongi and Seokjin share one room together with Jungkook while Namjoon and Hoseok share another. The space was a bit cramped, but It isn’t the one bedroom apartment you had when you adopted Namjoon, and it isn’t the two bedroom apartment from when you adopted Seokjin and then Hoseok a few months ago. It’s comfortable, and that’s what’s important.

“Seokjin,” you call while walking to the door, “it’s Hoseokie’s choice. Hoseokie, if Jiwon starts flirting with me again, I will hide your lucky sweatpants in some place you will never find them again.”

You open the door, Hoseok’s indignant spluttering and Namjoon’s cackling behind you. It’s a sort of chaos you’ve grown accustomed to, and it fills you with a warm feeling in your heart. You love these boys and are so happy to have met them and received the chance to raise them.

There are two more kids on the other side of the door.

“Um. Hi.”

“Hello!” One of the boys greet and they both bow to you. You blink at them. They’re cute, but you don’t exactly understand why they’re asking for you. “Thank you for taking us in!”

“What?”

“Huh?”

“You said you can’t adopt more!”

“I… don’t…” you trail off, lost and confused. “What?”

“Mommy said me and Jiminie can live with you when she gets married,” the same boy who spoke earlier explained. His face is rather round, dark eyes framed with thick eyelashes. The other one is paler, features softer, prettier. “She said to give you this.” He holds out a piece of paper, one detailing the transferring of parental rights from Song Jieun to yourself. With your signature at the bottom.

“You’re Song Jieun’s kids?” you ask them, just to be sure. Both boys nod.

“Mommy also wanted me to give you…” the same boy starts searching through his pockets, mumbling to himself that I know I had it somewhere… I had it when we left… did I lose it on the bus? Eventually, the smaller one taps his brother on the shoulder and points to the front pocket of his bookbag. “Oh right! Thanks! Here.” the kid thrusts yet another piece of paper at you, this one a handwritten note written on good cardstock.

“Saem,” Seokjin speaks from just behind your shoulder now, “did you seriously fall for the same trick twice?”

“What trick?” You ask absentmindedly, reading the heartfelt apology. Apparently, that day when you signed those grade reports, Jieun slipped in a guardianship form and you unwittingly signed it.

“I gave you a bunch of things to sign and you didn’t even read them, you just signed it all,” your eldest replies. “I did that three years ago. How did you not learn yet?”

“Is that what happened?” You gape at him.

“Yes, but we aren’t talking about me right now,” Seokjin deflected. “We’re talking about you adopting more kids.”

“Um,” that same kid, the one with the thick eye lashes, cuts in. “Can we come in?” It’s a fair question, and in spite of the confusion and frustration in your heart, you know you aren’t going to send these kids back to Jieun and her new husband. She had already expressed her concern for these kids, and they aren’t even old enough to start middle school. How are they going to live in an apartment on their own? You stole Yoongi for that exact reason so you aren’t going to be a hypocrite now and turn these two boys away, even if you have no idea what you would do with seven children.

At least these two come with an added paycheck. And okay, that is bad, that is very, very bad. It isn’t nice to think of these innocent children as a paycheck, but it helps. You are struggling to take care of the five you already have, receiving extra money for the extra mouths is nice. At least Jieun was considerate about throwing her kids at you.

“Hello,” Namjoon waved. He hasn’t moved from his seat on the sofa, remote still in hand. Map the Soul is playing at a more sensible level, and it's a testament to Namjoon’s interest in the situation because he normally skips this song. “I’m Namjoon. Welcome to our home.”

“I’m Seokjin,”

“I’m Hoseok,”

“And I’m Jungkookie!”

“When did you get here?” you ask your youngest, surprised to see him.

“I heard the doorbell.”

“Right, my children are nosey, awesome,” you mumble to yourself. “Hoseok, let these boys stay with you and Joonie for now, okay? Boys what are your names again?”

“I’m Taehyung,” says the same child who’s done all of the talking so far. “This is my brother, Jimin. He’s quiet and doesn’t like to talk.”

“That’s okay. We were going to order dinner soon. Are you boys hungry?”

“I’m always hungry,” Taehyung grinned.

“Of course you are, you’re a young boy. This lot will eat me out of house and home if I let them.”

“Your house is your home, you’re being redundant,” Namjoon scoffs, going back into the kitchen to finish his homework.

“I fail to see where I’m wrong though.”

“I volunteer to not tell Yoongi we’re adopting more kids,” Hoseok laughs as he leads Jimin and Taehyung away.

“One, two, three, not it!” The rest of the boys shout.

“Hey, I’m the parent here! Why are you behaving like I’m afraid of a twelve-year-old?!”

#bangtan #bts fic #bts scenarios #Kim Taehyung #bts v #park jimin #bts jimin #kid fic #kid bts #taehyung fanfic #bts jimin fanfic #BTS ARMY #cross posted on ao3 #Dark Balance #collecting strays

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casnextdoor · 3 years

Text

PAPER HEART

———————

a/n; i wrote this solely because i have fallen in love with jk’s cover of tori kelly’s paper hearts . i bawled my eyes out to it while reading ‘under the sky in room 553 i discovered you and i’ it was VERY ANGSTY and i was sad . 10/10 def recommend. anywho enjoy

———————————

The lights around the stage were bright, blinding. The fans were loud, a consistent chant of Jungkook’s stage name the only thing being heard in the stadium. Even after two months of seeing and hearing this night after night, he still couldn’t believe this was all for him. It was always at the end of his set, when he’d sit on the wooden stool in the dead centre of the stage, that he’d hear your voice. He’d hear you telling him he deserved this and more. You were supposed to be here.

He waited for the stadium to quiet, and just like every night prior, the fans' loud roar turned into ambient muttering. So with a heavy heart, he deposited a guitar pick from his pocket and started experimentally picking and strumming at the acoustic guitar that sat comfortably on his thighs. He knew the cords like the back of his hand -- having played it for you more times than he could count -- so he found his rhythm with ease.

It felt like just yesterday when you’d sat with him in his studio, helping him create the song that would break his heart every time he played it.

Your smile. That's what really caught his attention that day. Everyday since the two of you had met, he’d picked another physical feature of yours to obsess over every time he’d see you. Your perfect set of pearly whites with a little bit of an overbite had his heart beating recklessly against his ribcage today. The septum piercing hanging right above your cupid's-bow fell over your lips when they’d pulled up into that signature grin of yours. He’d die happy if it were the last thing he’d ever seen, he’d decided.

You’re guitar -- the black one he’d gifted you sophomore year as an early birthday gift -- hung loosely over your shoulder in its case. It made him smile that you’d kept after so long -- that you’d kept him around for so long.

“Okay, Noona. Why are we here?” Jungkook wouldn’t lie, he had never gotten dressed as quickly as he had when he’d received a text from you telling him to meet you at his studio. He almost ran out of the dorms with no shoes on -- he hadn’t seen you in weeks.

“Remember when you told me you couldn’t write? When you said you couldn’t find lyrics to go to the guitar piece you composed?” You’d excitedly plopped down on the black leather couch on the other side of his studio; you’d picked that couch.

Jungkook hummed, eyeing you skeptically. He didn’t know where this was going. Looking back now, he should’ve had a clue; this was such a you thing to do, after all. But at the time, he had no idea where this conversation or impromptu meet up was headed.

“Well, fret no longer, my friend. I spent all night writing you lyrics.” Your smile was so big and your hands were a bit fidget-y as you unzipped your guitar case; a tell-tale sign that you had been drinking coffee again. It was painfully endearing that you’d stayed up all night just writing him lyrics. And he found it absolutely adorable that instead of waiting until the morning to call him, you’d texted him at two in the morning, demanding that he meet you. He had to purse his lips to refrain from smiling too hard.

“You do realize it's almost three in the morning, right, Flower?” Jungkook’s amused chuckle caused an embarrassing amount of heat to course through your body. You nodded sheepishly, hands gripping nervously at the neck of your guitar. You’d pray he couldn’t see how nervous you were so you instead pulled your lips up into a scowl and huffed out an annoyed breath.

“Do you wanna hear ‘em or not?” There was no real edge to your voice, and Jungkook knew you’d just been looking for a way to channel your nerves into something less embarrassing than a nervous chuckle.

He nodded, leaning back into his rolling office chair and had he always been so big? His gaze never left you and you could almost feel the weight of his eyes on you. You’d avert your gaze away from him and down toward the strings of your guitar, in fear that if you look at him, he’d hear the loud love confessions your brain was screaming at him. You grumbled at him to record a voice memo -- you were not going to give him your lyric book.

You’d picked and strummed at the guitar until you’d found and stayed with the melody you were looking for. You played the sequence for a bit longer just to make sure you wouldn’t mess up. You figured you were ready after about thirty seconds of just blue music. So you cleared your voice and started singing.

Remember the way you made me feel, such young love but,

Jungkook realized that no matter what you’d written, he would’ve loved it anyway -- it was you, after all.

Something in me knew that it was real. Frozen in my head.

Pictures I’m living through for now

Trying to remember all the good times

He could listen to you for hours. There was something so serene, he thought, about listening to the love of your life sing a song they’d written just for you.

Our life was cutting through so loud. Memories are playing in my dull mind.

Has his gaze always been this heavy? Has your heart always beat this fast for him? Have you always wanted someone to love you back this much? No, you supposed you hadn’t. But there’s a first for everything.

I hate this part, paper hearts. And I’ll hold a piece of yours.

Don’t think I would just forget about it.

Hoping that you won’t forget about it.

That was four years ago. Four years ago. He remembered staring at you while you sang the entire song. He remembered just watching you in silence for five minutes. He remembered the way you bit down at your lip and avoided his gaze like the black plague. He remembered leaning forward and pulling your lip from under your teeth. He remembered the way he brushed his nose against yours and telling you -- his flower -- how much he loved it, the song. He remembered kissing you and taking you right there in the studio. He remembered just how gorgeous you were in such a euphoric state. He remembered he told you he loved you more times than he could count that night.

And he remembered the chaos that ensued after, leading you to giving him full custody and access to the song and moving out of the city. Just to get away from him.

He hadn’t sung the song or even recorded it since. He listened to the voice memo with the song and your beautiful euphoric sounds on it every night for two months. He’d cried to that memo. He’d gotten off to that memo. And soon he had to move it to the archives; he wouldn’t allow himself to break anymore.

A part of moving on is making amends. He was in your town because of touring. And before he knew what he was doing, he was adding the song to the performance sequence and shooting you a text.

I’m in your city. For a tour of course. And I’m singing paper hearts for the first time tonight. And I want you to sing it with me. If your email is the same I’ll send you a guest pass. You don’t have to come, but… I would love it if you did :)

You’d left him on delivered. You hadn’t even opened the message. He sent the pass anyway, hoping to the heavens that you would receive it.

He strummed at the guitar strings, trying to keep his eyes from scanning the crowd for you. But when he started singing he couldn’t help but look for those gorgeous eyes and that bright smile he hadn’t seen in four years.

Everything is gray under these skies, wet mascara

Hiding every cloud under a smile, when there’s cameras

And I just can’t reach out to tell you

That I always wonder what you’re up to

That isn’t my voice, he thought, eyebrows creasing in confusion as he looked toward the stage manager who was normally off on the right wing.

And there you were. You were still as beautiful as he remembered. Just as breathtaking as he remembered.

You walked toward him, steps slow and calculated as you stopped just behind him, placing a soft hand onto his shoulder and pressing your front to his back.

Your hand slid down his chest as you used his physical form to ground you and keep you level headed; he was just as good looking as he was all those years ago and you couldn’t help but replay that night in the studio as you reached the next verse.

Pictures I’m living through for now, Trying to remember all the good times

Our life was cutting through, Memories are playing in my dull mind

I hate this part, paper hearts. And I’ll hold a piece of yours

Don’t think I would just forget about it. Hoping that you won’t forget about it.

Jungkook stopped singing completely -- he loved it when you sang this part.

I live through pictures as if I was right there by your side

But you’ll be good without me and if I could just give you some time I’ll be alright.

And then there was nothing. No screaming fans, no guitar, no singing. It was just you. And him. In the middle of this big sea called the universe. Because you’d come back to him. You’d found your way back to him and he decided right then he wouldn’t let you go.

So with the hand that was just gripping the neck of the guitar, he was lightly gripping the back of your neck, pulling you down firmly. He brushed his nose against yours before whispering:

“It's beautiful, Flower. Where’d you learn to sing like that?” You laughed at that.

“I learned from the best, Kookie.” And then his lips were on yours and the entire world really disappeared.

#bts #jungkook angst #bts angst #bts fluff #jungkook fluff #jungkook x female reader #jungkook x reader

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imgoingtocrash · 3 years

Text

my teen angst bullshit has a body count

by @imgoingtocrash for @hailxhydra

Rating: T

Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Ned Leeds & Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Avengers Team

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Ned Leeds, Flash Thompson, Jim Morita, Hydra Agents

Summary:

“Correcting people all the time, sucking up attention with the whole goody two-shoes act. I’m saying you’re a teacher’s pet, loser. And one day, everyone’s going to see it for the act that it is, and when they do—”

Peter’s hearing blanks out.

Pet.

It echoes.

Two years ago, Peter Parker escaped Hydra's control and was taken in by the Avengers. Traumatized from the experience but healing, Peter's starting to get a hang of this whole normal teenager thing. However, when Flash brings up a happily forgotten trigger from his past, Tony comes to give comfort and remind Peter that he's worth more to his loved ones than Hydra could have ever dreamed of.

Read on AO3

My fic for @friendly-neighborhood-exchange! Hopefully you enjoy it @hailxhydra!!!

Full fic under the cut as requested by the exchange:

“—But I’m asking if it’s a good movie.”

“I’m telling you, it was either picking Selena for the third time or Rio, which is a stupid animated movie about birds.” Ned shakes his head dramatically. “Everybody else will fall asleep, and if everybody falls asleep, then Misses Rodriguez will give us a pop quiz instead of letting us have a movie day.”

“But I like animated movies. We like them. We watched A Bug’s Life like last week!”

“Because you hadn’t seen it before! Your film under-education is criminal, and if I don’t help you fix it, who will?!”

Ned has a point. Being kidnapped and raised by Hydra after the age of six really limits a person’s entertainment consumption, as he’s learned more than ever now that he’s surrounded by other teenagers who grew up with movies and tv shows to watch at their fingertips.

“I mean, Steve does have a list…” Peter points out weakly.

Steve keeps it in his little notebook along with other things he doesn’t understand the references to yet. He tried to encourage Peter to start something like that in the beginning, but Peter’s never really considered himself a list person. He just sort of soaks up the world now, like a curious sponge. Sometimes it means he has to Google things he doesn’t really understand the meaning of, but it also means a lot of movie nights with both the other Avengers and Ned, which is actually sort of a bonus.

Ned stops them in the hall. “Yeah, but are they cool movies or are they movies for old people and war veterans who haven’t been alive for the last 100 years?”

“...You know that I don’t really know the difference.”

Ned gives a sad shake of his head. “You’re lucky you liked Star Wars, bro. Otherwise we’d be in a very different place right now, like, friendship-wise.”

“You still didn’t answer the question.”

Peter got to pick the movie for their classes’ Cinco de Mayo party. Peter’s not sure what either movie has to do with the Mexican Army’s historical defeat of the French, but he only picked Selena because Ned suggested it. Maybe he should be regretting that choice, if the other option was harmless little Spanish birds.

“You know, Parker, I have a question,” comes a very annoyingly musical voice from behind them.

Peter just barely resists to roll his eyes. Every time with this kid. Not that Peter is any less of a kid than Flash Thompson, technically, but he definitely feels more mature.

Ned, also more mature than some of their other classmates, completely ignores Flash.

“You’ll be humming the disco medleys for weeks, I promise.”

“Wait, wait, disco? I thought you said this was supposed to take place in the 80s and 90s?”

“Music endures, dude.”

“Hey, el idiots, I’m talking to you!” Flash interrupts again.

“That’s not even how you—” Peter starts to correct, only to realize he’s stepped directly in it when Ned groans.

Flash laughs obnoxiously to himself. “Just can’t help yourself, can you, Penis?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Peter grumbles. It doesn’t really matter what he says now. Flash has the attention that he wanted, which means he won’t bug off until the bell rings and until he has the last laugh. And that always happens, because he’s really the only one entertained by all of the poking and prodding at Peter.

Peter breathes in, steeling himself. He’s survived worse. So much worse. Bullies with electric prongs and steel cages and control over every other aspect of his life. This is just high school. Normal kids survive it all the time, even when there are bullies and bad test grades and cliquey subcultures. This is just one privileged asshole who thinks Peter’s an easy target.

In some way, Peter’s actually proud of that. No one has ever seen him as un-intimidating before. Even his Hydra captors knew that if they lost control of him as an asset, he could easily turn on them.

(Part of him always asks why he never did. If he wasn’t evil, if he wasn’t like them, then why didn’t he just fight back? But Sam says that’s just his mind trying to deal with trauma, and Peter is trying really, really hard to get better at ignoring those kinds of intrusive thoughts.)

Speaking of talking to himself, Flash snaps his fingers in Peter’s face to get his attention back.

“You’d think for such a genius, you’d be a lot quicker on the uptake.” Flash shakes his head like he’s disappointed.

“Please just get to the point already,” Ned begs, throwing his head back.

Peter’s hearing blanks out.

Pet.

It echoes.

C’mere, Pet.

Stay down, Pet!

He was property, he was an animal, he was a weapon, their weapon, he was a mutant and he deserved it, needed it, he was the Spider, a mongrel, nothing, he was nothing and no one and Hydra was the only home a no-good runt like the Spider would ever have and he should be grateful—Kneel, Pet, be a good boy and kneel for your masters—but he doesn’t want to, he doesn’t—

Foolish Pet, you wouldn’t survive out there.

You need us, Pet. You’ll always need us.

“Peter?”

He returns to the moment with one heaving breath, only to realize he can’t take in another.

His collar is too tight, they always put it on too tight and if he complains they hit him and if they hit him he bleeds and it gets on his clothes and he won’t get any more until his bath and he hates bath time because they water is cold and stings his skin and the soap is so harsh it burns his nostrils and they’re watching him he knows they’re watching because they never leave him alone because if they did he would try to escape, he would—

“Peter, what’s wrong, are you—?”

He did. He escaped and ran away but now they have him again and he can’t live like this, not when he knows about best friends and pizza and friendly ribbing and how warm he feels when Tony pulls Peter close on the couch and presses a kiss to his head and tells Peter that he’s proud. He can’t be here anymore, he has to go, he has to run.

“Peter, wait!”

Tony is, to say the least, nervous when he gets a call from Midtown Tech’s front office.

He trusts Peter by now. The kid has come a long, long way since he snuck onto the Avengers helicarrier during the chaos of a Hydra raid. Skinny as a rail, scared, brainwashed...abused.

The Spider.

Peter didn’t like being with Hydra since they were the ones that made him enhanced, but he sure as hell didn’t want to be locked in an enclosed space with a bunch of Avengers at the time either.

As was evident by the fight he put up until Steve knocked him out. Steve still feels bad about cold-clocking a kid when Peter jokingly brings it up now, but Tony’s never shamed Steve for the decision. It was that or some kind of drug injection with the way Peter fought back tooth and nail, confused and defensive. Practically feral, from the well-fitting clothing to his lack of speech.

It was all for the better, though, once they got him back to the compound.

Peter was a talkative kid once he let himself be. Funny, too. Almost normal, if you forgot the mutant spider genetics and years of torture from a bunch of descendant assholes that seemed to hate and resent the very thing they created.

That’s why Tony agreed to let Peter start school. Real, normal, human school just like every other teenager in America attended until they finished all twelve years of it.

Because he needed to be normal, sometimes. He needed movie nights, [other things], and most importantly, friends that were his own age rather than a bunch of adult superheroes that often acted like children.

But also because Peter wanted to go, and Tony had a really, really hard time denying anything that the kid wanted when he could so easily provide.

Peter had such a hard time wanting anything, in the beginning. What did Peter want to wear instead of the plain, grey, dirty sweatpants from Hydra? What did Peter want to eat now that he could have an adequate amount of calories for his enhanced, still growing body? What did he want to watch? Listen to?

All of these choices were suddenly available to Peter, but shaking years of being denied any kind of want, any kind of choice took a toll on him that took a lot of work to get through.

Peter had put in the work. Unsurprisingly well. He was smart—tactically from years of being trained for missions, academically from whatever education Hydra must have thrust upon him. Not so much socially, but they were doing better as Peter spent more time around people that actually cared about him and lobbed insults around to tease rather than to actually cause emotional harm.

But was that enough...training, of sorts, to be around a bunch of teenagers? Sure, Peter was technically also a teenager, but they’d found him at 14. Tony still looked at Peter and saw the wide-eyed little kid sitting in the corner of a containment cell, flinching every time Tony moved.

Two years later and a lot of growth physically and emotionally, but was it enough?

Tony was hesitant about it, wish-washing the entire summer with maybes and I’ll think about its until the deadline arrived and Tony had to actually make the call.

Peter had pleaded, citing an extensive, cheesy list of films that made him want the high school experience himself for some reason. He very genuinely enjoyed shopping for school supplies. He passed Midtown’s entrance exam with results that faked years progressing in homeschooling that Tony knew would have been true, if Peter had gotten the chance to grow up like he was supposed to.

So, Tony eventually said yes, knowing that one day this call might come and Tony would have to be prepared for whatever was on the other end of the line.

An “incident” of some kind. Whatever that meant. The secretary was entirely unclear, only insistent that Peter’s family should get down to the premises immediately to handle things.

That was Tony.

Part of Tony couldn’t fathom why Peter chose him out of everyone on the team to latch onto. Another part wasn’t exactly shocked. Trauma recognized trauma, after all, even if the context was entirely different.

Tony knew what it was like to be belittled. To be seen as something you weren’t. To be abused by someone you never really trusted in the first place.

He and Peter talked a lot in that little containment cell. Hours of Tony blabbering like he always did when he was uncomfortable and Peter just sitting and waiting, waiting, waiting for the strikes to start coming.

When he said his first words.

When he told Tony his name—not Spider, but Peter Parker, a little boy from Queens who lost his parents and his whole normal life in the same night, according to FRIDAY’s records.

When he touched Tony’s arm for the first time and got a smile instead of a reprimand.

He waited and Tony was patient and it was a rough road, but...Tony was kind of a parent, now. A parental figure, at least, among others of varying degrees of quality and influence on a scarred teenager.

He was Peter’s family, whether either of them was any good at it in a traditional way or not.

And also, you know. His money was paying Peter’s tuition. His time went into helping Peter study for the entrance exam. His name was technically on Peter’s manufactured birth certificate because he was the one forging it and it wasn’t like anyone else was offering when the subject came up.

And maybe, a little, because he cared about Peter. Loved him. Wanted to be what Peter needed, what he deserved, and what better way to do that than to write his name on a piece of paper that signified the job he sort of kind of wanted?

Tony slams the car door behind himself after pulling into Midtown’s parking lot, putting on his sunglasses for the brief trip into the early afternoon sun. He’s checking security cameras, exits, and also preparing a hefty sum of cash to go into Principal Jim Morita’s bank account as well as a handful of government officials, if that’s what it takes.

Again, not that Tony doesn’t trust Peter, it’s just...when you get this kind of call and your kid is a highly trained former assassin, you prepare exit strategies on multiple fronts.

It’s been two months and Peter has only made one friend at this place. The kids can’t all be angels like Peter proclaims Ned Leeds to be. If one of them touched Peter out of nowhere or said the wrong thing, maybe Peter lashed out. Maybe Peter forgot to hold his strength back like he’s been training to do. Maybe something was broken.

Maybe it’s something far worse.

Tony has to be ready for that. He has to be ready for whatever it takes to protect Peter.

At the very least, the police aren’t on site. That’s probably a good sign that they’re willing to leave this as an internal matter for now.

The unhelpful secretary of before leads Tony out of the office by the arm at a quick pace, not explaining the situation at all before they arrive at the scene. Whatever it is. Tony was definitely expecting more blood or yelling or...anything, really.

A small crowd stands outside of a door, marked by a golden plaque to be the janitor’s closet.

Leaning on the door itself with his arms resolutely crossed is a kid about Peter’s age. Short black hair, light brown skin, dressed so similarly to Peter that Tony’s starting to wonder if that’s where Peter’s new obsession with those geeky little t-shirts has come from.

“Mister Leeds—” An older Asian man pleads, dressed in a suit and standing up straight with all of the authority he can seem to muster against the stone wall that is the teen in front of him.

The kid shakes his head in response. So this is Ned, then.

“I’m sorry, sir, but I’m not moving. If he wants to stay in there to calm down, he should be allowed to stay in there.”

“I’m sure his parents—”

“He doesn’t even have—you don’t even know what he’s gone through!”

“And you do?”

“Well...kinda? No. But—but he’s obviously freaking out and everyone crowding around him is only going to make it worse!”

The adult rubs a hand across his forehead, stressing at a fold of wrinkles that settles there from the stress.

“Ned, I recognize you’re just trying to be a good friend, but this is a problem for—”

Tony clears his throat, catching the attention of both parties.

The older man sighs. “Oh, good. Thank you, Theresa, you can go on back to the office. We’ll take it from here.”

The secretary nods, brusquely turning around and heading off, leaving Tony there to be examined by both Ned and what must be the principal.

“Mister Stark, I’m glad you could come down, though I’m sorry it’s under these circumstances. I’m Principal Morita.”

“Obviously you know who I am,” Tony replies, shaking the man’s hand. “What did happen, exactly? Theresa was sparse on the details.”

“I told you, it’s Flash’s fault! He was being a dick and—” Ned shouts.

“Mister Leeds.” The principal interrupts, stern. “Another student apparently said something...unkind to Peter. He didn’t take it well and locked himself in the closet. I haven’t even been able to assess the situation properly yet. Normally I would start with asking Peter’s side of the story, but...”

He looks to the closet, where Ned still stands, defensive.

“The bouncer is a real stickler, got it,” Tony jokes, aiming a small smile at Ned. “Peter does seem to attract the protective type.”

“Oh,” Ned says, suddenly meeting Tony’s eyes and gaping like a fish. He seems to have finally realized exactly who he’s talking to. “Oh, wow. Mister Stark, it’s an honor. I’m a huge fan, like, so huge. Peter tells me to shut up about you at least three times a day. When he showed me a picture of you guys I was like, ‘Oh my god, your dad is Tony Stark!’ and he was like ‘Oh. Yeah, I guess you’d know who he is, huh?’ like he totally didn’t get how awesome it is that you’re Iron Man. And I know you’re only kind of his dad, but still—”

“It’s suddenly become very clear to me why you two are friends,” Tony responds, keeping his smile on.

It’s actually kind of sweet to see that Peter’s found someone to confide in, even if he’s seemingly left out the more traumatic elements. But he also knows that Peter can hear them through the door, and he wants to get to the kid as fast as possible instead of dawdling for time.

If Peter wants to see him, that is.

He does, doesn’t he? Tony has been there for everything, so far. Every breakdown when the choices became too much, when the world outside of Peter’s little cell and all of the things he did that he wishes he could forget attack him at night. He hasn’t gotten old enough to not want Tony around when he’s upset, right?

“Sorry, Mister Stark. Sorry,” Ned apologizes. “I’m just nervous and worried about Peter and—”

“I get it, kid. You’re good.” He gives a reassuring grasp to Ned’s shoulder. “But if you wouldn’t mind, I really need to see Peter now. You can ask him yourself, but I’m usually the exception to any rule about Peter wanting to be alone.”

“Right, yeah. I’ll just—”

Ned turns to open the door, but gives Morita a shifty look, like he doesn’t trust the man not to dive bomb in if given the chance.

“Peter—”

“Let him in,” replies Peter’s strained voice. He’s definitely been crying. Poor kid.

Ned pulls back and nods at Tony, stepping aside to let him through.

“You did a good job protecting him, Leeds. Thank you,” he says to the teen before stepping into the dimly lit closet and shutting the door behind him.

The room smells musty and over-powerful at the same time thanks to the potent combination of cleaners and the mop cart sitting so close together. Out of anywhere Peter could have picked, this probably isn’t the kindest to his sense of smell if it’s making Tony already scrunch his nose.

It’s lit by a single pull-chain light bulb, and in the shadows of it sits Peter, curled into himself and leaning against a rusty metal shelf filled with paper towels, cleaning equipment, and a few bottles of product that have to be expired.

“Hey, Pete.” Tony frowns at the cracked floor tile, but settles himself next to Peter anyway. His back catches some kind of spray bottle sitting on the shelf that digs uncomfortably into his back.

Peter sniffs, not looking up from the cradle of his arms. “Hey.”

Tony heaves a sigh, for the drama. “So, I hear you got your first bully.”

Peter shrugs. “Guess so.”

“That Ted kid is pretty nice. He’s a good friend.”

“Yeah. And his name is Ned.”

Tony stops beating around the bush. “What happened, Peter?”

“It was fine. It was good, you know? I got an A+ on my Spanish test, and Misses Rodriguez offered to let me choose the movie we were gonna watch for the Cinco de Mayo party as a reward. I didn’t even know any of the movies, but Ned said Selena was good because Jennifer Lopez is hot, so that’s what I picked. It was a good day, Tony!”

“...But?”

“But then Flash—”

“I meant to ask, is that his actual name? Like, legally?”

“No.”

“Oh thank god.”

“Flash said…he said I was a…” Peter’s hesitant to let it out.

“Pete, a lot of kids at this age are testing boundaries. They’re going to say a lot of stupid, insensitive, offensive—”

“He said I was a teacher’s pet.”

There’s a long minute of silence. Tony blinks curiously a few times. He doesn’t want to belittle what Peter’s feeling, but he also doesn’t understand why it’s caused him so much stress.

“I know, I know it’s—but they used to—” Peter swallows hard, probably only delaying another wave of tears. “Sometimes, before, they would call me…”

“Pet.”

Peter nods, starting to shake next to him on the floor, their arms lightly touching at just Tony saying the nickname.

“They liked it. I think it made them feel better about themselves if they acted like I wanted it. Like—like being locked in the cages or collared or—or being muzzled was good for me.”

“You need to learn a lesson, little pet. Be a good pet and eat your dinner. Stop your crying, pet. No more of your barking, pet.” Peter quotes with venom flinging from every syllable. “But I didn’t want that, Mister Stark! I promise! They gave me these powers and I didn’t want to be their pet and they made me—”

“Peter, I know. It’s not your fault. None of it is your fault, I know.”

Tony curls Peter into his side, rubbing his back consolingly.

“When Flash called me that I just—I felt the collar around my neck again and I couldn’t breathe though the muzzle and they kept kicking the cage even though it hurt my ears and I could never sleep in there because it was so small and—”

“Peter—” Peter’s hyperventilating. He’s panicking, Tony realizes. Probably just like he did initially. A flashback that triggered him into having a panic attack.

“And I know that’s not what Flash meant but I was back there and I can’t—I can’t stop—”

Peter breaks into sobs, burying his face into Tony’s shirt and clutching on tight.

“Oh, Pete. It’s okay. You’re okay,” Tony soothes.

He presses a kiss to Peter’s hair, unsure when he became this tender. Probably the moment he realized this was the way he wanted someone to treat him in the midst of his worst, most vulnerable moments.

“Sometimes the bad memories come back unexpectedly, it’s alright.”

“But don’t wanna think about it anymore!” Peter cries childishly.

If it wouldn’t break Tony’s ribs, Peter would probably start banging at his chest in frustration.

“What if it gets bad and I don’t talk anymore and I can’t go to school like a normal kid and I lose everything and then you won’t want me anymore because I can’t get over this and stop being a stupid animal who needs its owners to—”

“Peter Parker, no. Absolutely not.”

Tony pushes Peter away so he can hold the boy’s face in his hands. So that he can fucking imbue into this kid how much he is loved and cherished and human.

“You’re not property, and you’re not an animal. What they did to you was wrong, and you know that now. I know that you do.”

Not just because Peter’s been to therapy since integrating with the Avengers, but also because he’s talked to all of him during his recovery from the horrors of his earlier childhood. About how his life felt before and how it feels better now. How he wouldn’t have left in the first place if he really wanted to be a part of Hydra like they raised him to want.

He’s not the child soldier they raised anymore. He’s so much more than they ever allowed him to be in that awful place.

He loosens his grip on Peter’s face only to bring him back again with an arm around his shoulder. Maybe if Peter feels him, touches him, the kid will remember all of the growth he’s made, the family he’s gained.

“Buddy, you are getting better. I know it. I’ve seen it. You know we’re all so proud of you and the progress you’ve made.”

Tony sighs. Part of him wants to sugarcoat it. That Peter has seen the worst of the world and now he’ll just be able to move on from it scott-free. It’s what he deserves, but Tony knows from experience that nothing in life is that sort of kind.

“That doesn’t mean you won’t have setbacks. I have had setbacks. Healing from the bad stuff is really, really hard, but it doesn’t make you anything that they said you were. You’re a wonderful, good kid who deserves everything he’s worked so hard for. And you’re going to get it because you have me and the team and your new best friend behind your back. You’re not alone, you’re not in a cage, you’re—you’re home, Pete. You understand?”

Peter sniffs, a sign that he’s worked himself up again, but his weak nod into Tony’s chest tells him that some of them at least might be happier tears.

“Listen to me, Pete. And I mean really, truly listen.” He looks down at the snot-covered, tear-stained teenager practically in his lap. He does love Peter. He wouldn’t have gone this far for any other kid in the world.

“It doesn’t matter what happens—hitches, mishaps, a dumb teenage mistake. You’re our kid now, Peter. You’re never going back to Hydra. Never. Not with me around.”

He knows it means something to say it out loud rather than leaving it to be assumed. He doesn’t have as much of a problem admitting it as he thought he might.

“I’m never giving you up, or letting you go, or treating you like anything other than a person. Do you understand me? That is something you never, ever have to worry about. Not from me.”

Peter sobs against him. This time it feels a lot more like relief. A release in the safety of Tony’s arms that Peter hasn’t really allowed himself, even after two years of being free of Hydra.

Peter didn’t tell the team everything. He may never even tell Tony everything. But this is one more thing Peter doesn’t have to carry alone, and Tony is happy to help their kid navigate the horrors it's brought back into his improving life.

They sit there for another minute, Peter’s whimpers muffled in Tony’s dress shirt. He’s sure the principal and Peter’s friend are getting antsy. But all the same it gives Peter another chance to calm down, and this time he seems a lot lighter when he picks his head up to look at Tony.

“Feel better?”

Peter gives a sniffle, but accompanies it with a nod and bright, attentive eyes.

“Look, I think school’s a bust for the day. Let’s go home. Whatever you wanna do, just you and me. Nobody else needs to hear about this unless you want to tell them, okay?”

“And if you wanted, I guess…”

Peter tilts his head, expectant.

“We could...nah, it’s probably offensive, right?”

“What?” Peter insists. Tony tried to warn him, but Tony also can’t resist an idea once it pops into his head.

“I just thought, you know, if you wanted—if you thought it would help, we could get you a—“ He almost ruins it, but catches himself. “An animal. Like a dog or something.”

Peter is silent. He bites at his lip, contemplative. Looks in the direction of a mop bucket in the corner.

“Is that bad? You don’t have to, I just thought it might make you associate that word with good things, but if not—“

Peter finally meets his eyes with a tentative grin on his face.

“What kind of dog?”

#irondad #spiderson #au #friendly neighborhood exchange 2021 #marvel #peter parker #tony stark #my writing #hailxhydra

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atinydise · 4 years

Text

Ateez reacting to Hongjoong being a “grown man”

❦ Genre: Suggestive.

❦ Pairing: OT8.

❦ Word count: 12k.

❦ Requested: Yes, thank you! 🦋

❦ Masterlist.

SEONGHWA

Seonghwa was cleaning the room. He was so thankful that you and Hongjoong were not so messy. He could clean the room peacefully without finding weird stuff or a ton of messy clothes on the floor like Wooyoung and Yeosang’s room. By thinking about that, Seonghwa was curious to know if everything was good between you and the leader. They barely see you at day since you are working or studying. And when you come to the dorm, it’s already pretty late. He was curious. How did you manage to see Hongjoong and to spend a few romantic moments together if you could barely see each other? It’s not like he wants to know your entire relationship, but he just wants to know how you make it works. When he asked Hongjoong about that, he only replied that you FaceTime a lot or that you text together the whole day. But nothing can replace the physical chemistry. “Do you need help Hyung?” Asked San. “No I’m fine,” he replied. It was his special moment; he needed to enjoy it, alone. When he finally erased all the questions from his mind, he put all his effort to cleaning. After cleaning the windows, all the surfaces and tidy all of his clothes in the wardrobe, he finally grabbed the vacuum cleaner. While the eldest member was humming to Thanxxx, he noticed that the vacuum cleaner made a weird noise. He wasn’t paying attention at first but at some time he really thought that he broke it. When he finally checked what was going on, he spotted an empty condom stuck on the brush. “I’m back,” entered Hongjoong, throwing his bag on the bed. “Oh, you are almost done cleaning?” Seonghwa was still petrified by the little item he was holding. He was hesitating to throw it on the leader face and yell at him or hide it to avoid an awkward moment. “Hwa?” “Did Y/N came here these last days?” Hongjoong raised a brow, curious to know why he was asking this question. “Yesterday, why?” “Just asking.” He finally said before rushing to the trash to hide the condom. “Why? Did she mess up with your clothes?” “N-no...” he stuttered, trying to hide the blush on his face. “Well okay.” Shrugged the leader. “Do you remember when I asked you how you could keep a good chemistry without seeing each other?” “Hum yeah?” “Forget it.”

YUNHO

Yunho was a little bit worried for his leader and especially for you. Hongjoong’s was busy the whole week and every time they had free time he replied that he couldn’t hang out with all of them, because of his work. Yunho thought that if he couldn’t even see his members who lives with him, he couldn't see you either. He concluded that you might feel alone without him. Since you arrived in South Korea, Hongjoong was like your boyfriend, your closest friend at the same time. It was difficult for you to make friends. So, Yunho decided to take care of you as a good friend. He bought a few meals at the pizzeria next to your university and went to the dormitory to spend some time with you. As a friend, nothing more. He texted you to know where your dorm was, but you never replied back. Yunho started to freak out thinking that you were probably busy somewhere. “Do you need some help?” Asked a random girl, who was surely talking with him because he was good looking. “I’m looking for my friend Y/N. Do you know where I can find her?” “Oh... she’s living at the end of this hallway. At the right door.” “Ah thank you.” He bowed to her before walking toward your direction. Right in front of the door, he knocked twice. But nothing. He tried again, but you still didn’t open the door. He really thought that you were out. But his instincts told him to open the door, thinking that you might be hurt. He took a deep breath and entered the room. “Y/N, it’s Yunho I was worried for y-“ he stopped, eyes wide open, “you...” “Yunho what are you doing here?!” Yelled Honjoong, rushing to put his pants back. “W- what? Me? What are you doing here?!” He asked. “You were the one saying that you needed to work.” “I was working.” He said. “Seems like that Y/N’s name is “work” now!” Claimed Yunho. You were looking at the scene in front of you. “Since when are you “working” with Y/N?” Asked Yunho out of nowhere. “I won’t tell you! This is private.” “But you were lying to us all this time!" “Oh come on! I didn't want to tell you 'Hi I'm going to see Y/N for private and adults’ moments together'.” He claimed sarcastically. You finally spoke, “since you need to talk... can you give me the pizza?” You pointed at the box on his hands. “How can you think about food in this situation?” Asked Hongjoong. “I’m hungry when I’m horny.” You claimed without thinking twice. “Oh gosh...” sighed Yunho, covering his ears. You shrugged at your boyfriend, “what? It’s true.”

YEOSANG

Yeosang was quite silent and calm most of the time. He wouldn't be the one initiating the tease, or only if he's in a really good mood. Because of his cold or distant personality, the other members mentioned that he needed to open up a little bit more with them. Sometimes they felt like he was sad or mad, just because he would stay a bit far from the fun (a.k.a the chaos). So he decided to listen to them and to interact a little bit more or to enjoy their presence. His first target was Seonghwa. They spent a whole morning cleaning the dorm. Useless to say that he didn't help Yeosang at all, he just wanted to throw the vacuum cleaner and to run away. After his hyung, he spent time with San. They went to the Taekwondo school and trained with his dad. Honestly, it was cool. Until San pushed him accidentally in the waist. So today, he decided to spend some time with Hongjoong. He knew that he would be busy, so he could rest on the couch and fake that he's enjoying some time with his hyung. So he went to KQ's building, He took his earphones and downloaded a movie because he knew he would be bored. Yeosang didn't text the leader. He wanted to surprise him. Then, he knocked loudly at the door, "Hyung! Let's get some fun today!" Just before he opens the door, Hongjoong pushed it strongly, trying to block his way. "Yeosang? What-" "I am doing here?" He finished, "I want to spend some time with you." "R-Right now?" he stuttered. "Yes why? And open this door, it's cold here." He tried to push the door. "Just! Wait a few seconds okay!" Hongjoong closed the door again. Yeosang stayed in the hallway, not understanding the situation at all. He knocked again, "are you okay there?" "Just 2 seconds!" yelled the leader. When finally Hongjoong opened the door to welcome his friend correctly, he spotted you on the couch. "Oh! Hi Y/N, I wasn't expecting-" he stopped, realizing that something was strange. Hongjoong bite his lips. He was scared that his teammates understand the situation. A long silence remained in the room. You were trying to keep the fake smile on your face while Hongjoong sat back on his chair as nothing happened. "Did- did you just? I mean? You were not doing sinful stuff, here right?" Asked Yeosang. "We-" "Wait stop! I don't want to know anyway!" he shouted, covering his ears before exiting the room. "I don't want to be social anymore!" he yelled enough loudly that both of you could hear it.

SAN

“I think you should lock the door,” you broke the kiss with Hongjoong. “I’m too busy right now to stand up to lock this.” He said, kissing your neck softly. You giggled at how needed he was. “But don’t forget that we are not alone,” you warned him again, pushing him a bit on the side. “Y/N it’s okay,” he held your hand. “They aren't dumb.” “What do you mean?” Hongjoong rolled his eyes, a bit annoyed by your question. “We are a couple; we are alone in a room, we put on some music... I mean... it’s obvious!” You stayed silent for a second. He was right. They were all grown men; everybody probably got the message. “So? Can we do it now?” He asked while you remained silent. “Okay.” “Thank you!” He said sarcastically before pinning you down on the bed. In a matter of time, all your clothes were spread on the floor. You were enjoying all of his ministrations and foreplays, but a part of you couldn’t relax. It was not the first time you made out with him while the other members were there but today you really felt like someone would come in. “Y/N, relax...” he whispered in your ear. Just the smoothness of his voice sent you on a cloud nine. “Ready?” He said, asking for your permission, as always. You didn’t have enough time to nod that San entered in the room, almost bumping the door on the wardrobe behind. Your heart made a looping in your chest. You knew something would happen. Your instinct never fails. “Don’t say anything,” whispered Hongjoong, knowing that you would say ‘I told you' or 'I was right’ as usual. “What are you doing?!” Shouted San covering his eyes to stop seeing his leader's naked butt. “Just get out San!” Yelled Hongjoong. “I can’t move! I’m like paralyzed or traumatized!” He shouted back. “I don’t know you were into profanities!” “San just get out!” Repeated Hongjoong. “What’s happening here?” Asked Seonghwa, entering the room. You thought that it couldn’t get worse, but the eldest member was followed by all the other members. “Please wake me up... It’s a nightmare...” you whispered. “What’s wrong with y’all!” Panicked Hongjoong, finally covering both of you. They all stepped back while San was still standing there, hands on his eyes. Seonghwa got the courage to come back in the room to pull him outside. “I-” you started. “Don’t.” He cut you instantly, falling back on the bed.

MINGI

"Okay see you tomorrow idiots," said Hongjoong, putting his backpack. "What? Hyung! You promised you would stay with us to watch Tenet tonight." Hongjoong grunted, he completely forgot that he promised this. "You can't leave us there just for work." "I was actually seeing Y/N tonight, it's her birthday and I wanted to surprise her." "Oh... okay." Sighed Mingi, a bit disappointed. Hongjoong felt really bad. These times they were so busy, but they all managed to find free time between all of their individuals' schedules to spend time together. "How long is this movie?" he asked, putting down his bag. "Around 2 hours," replied Yunho. "Well I will watch it with you, but I'll run to Y/N just after that okay?" They all nodded and Yunho played the movie. As always just at the beginning Jongho needed to pee, San and Wooyoung were fighting for the blanket, Yunho was already guessing the end of the movie and Seonghwa was staring at his phone. The quiet one was Mingi. And it was unusual. The leader thought that he might be really immersed in the movie already. To be honest, Hongjoong liked the movie more than he thought, even if it was really confusing most of the time. Just when the most confusing scene was playing, Hongjoong's phone buzzed on his pocket. When he grabbed his phone, he knew that was you. Without thinking twice he unlocked his phone to check your message. He and Mingi gasped when the light of his phone turned on to reveal a suggestive picture of you. Hongjoong stared at Mingi to see if he saw the picture too. "You didn't see anything okay?" "How I'm supposed to forget this!" Whispered Mingi. "Just forget it! I'm the only one allowed to see this kind of pic of Y/N." "Then keep it for you!" he replied. "I didn't want to know that you are having the fun of your life tonight! Or any day!" "Hey, we aren't at the theater but shut up," claimed Yeosang, not even caring about the politeness. "Just keep it for yourself!" Added Hongjoong one last time. Mingi didn't say anything but it was hard for him to forget this kind of pic of you. You seemed so shy and pure, but now he will definitely change his mind.

WOOYOUNG

“Is there someone inside?” You whispered in front of the dorm door. “No seems like they are still training.” Said Hongjoong. “Then we have approximately...?” you asked. “30 minutes. But let’s make it quick, so we are safe.” He pulled you inside, instantly removing your jacket. “Here?” You asked before kissing him frivolously. “No let’s go to my room.” Useless to say that you rushed there. Both of you were so needy that you threw off all of your clothes the whole way to his room. “I feel like it’s been an eternity since the last time I touched you.” He giggled, sneaking his hands around your waist. “If you were not too focused on your work, it wouldn’t feel like an eternity.” You stuck your tongue out at him. He rolled his eyes. You were always telling him the same thing. “Did you just... rolled your eyes at me?” You raised a brow, a bit angrily. “Yes, I did.” He replied coldly. “Really? Why? I mean it’s not my fault-“ “It’s not my fault too if I’m working too much!” “Wow calm down.” You sat on the bed while he was standing and looking for his clothes. “I never said that it was your fault.” “But that’s how I felt.” He claimed. When you wanted to apologize to him, Wooyoung entered the room. “What’s happening here? And w-where the rest of your clothes?!” He shouted loudly, hands in front of his eyes. “What are you doing here?” Shouted the leader, rushing to wrap you up in the cover. “Weren’t you supposed to train with the boys?” “You told me this morning to work on my high-notes!” He shouted, facing the wall. “And you? I mean both of you! What were you doing?” “I would appreciate it if you could erase Y/N in underwear from your mind.” “Just don’t do these kinds of things here! Dis.Gus.Ting!” he said, plugging back his earphones. “Oh because it’s not disgusting when you do it wi-” “It’s disgusting because it’s both of you!” He cut him off. While you were giggling at how shy he was, Wooyoung left the room and rushed to the kitchen. “And you better get both dressed! Don’t do this while I’m here!” He yelled from the other room. “And pack up your clothes before Seonghwa-Hyung sees this mess!” You sighed. 5 minutes ago, you were arguing with your boyfriend. The next minute, one of his teammates interrupted for good your intimate session and now... you needed to clean your mess. “What a wonderful moment...”

JONGHO

The boys invited you for a chill and cool day at the park. The weather was perfect, and the park wasn’t too crowded because it was the middle of the week. It was exactly what you needed and what you wanted, to relax from this stressful week. Plus, you haven't seen your boyfriend since a week and you wanted to spend time with him. Useless to say that you wanted to spend an intimate moment with him too. To make him understand that you were needy, you planned to tease him with the ice cream you bought. When he was looking at you, you would lick the ice cream extremely suggestively. Quicly understanding your ministrations, he would smirk at you. But unlucky for you, he was not the only one who spotted your little game. Jongho was glancing at you, trying to see if it was intentional or not. Just when he thought it was just a normal way for you to eat an ice cream, you winked at your boyfriend. Instinctively, he had a terrible gag. “Are you okay bro?” Asked San, looking at the maknae. “Please Hyung and Y/N-” he stopped. Your heart almost stopped, did he... “Take a room.” He claimed, disgusted. Yes, he did. You furiously blushed and almost threw the ice cream on the trash next to you, but realized it was a bit too far. “What are you talking about?” Asked Seonghwa, slapping his member’s arm for being a perv. “Ouch Hyung!” He rubbed his arm, “I saw their little game! She’s licking her ice cream to tease him! It's not the way it should be eaten!” You hide your face behind your hands. “I didn’t know you were so perv Hyung,” he looked at the leader, who was avoiding every stare on him. “I know that Y/N was like that but you!” He added before grabbing his phone. “Wait what-” you stuttered. “I’m not.” “We all know this already Y/N.” Said Yunho, smiling at you. “Oh gosh... please, someone wakes me up.”

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fallingfor-fics · 3 years

Text

Teachers Pet- Prologue

All chapters

Its your sixth year here at Beauxbatons, but your mother has just informed you that your parents are getting divorced and you will be leaving your dad, meaning you have to move and transfer to Hogwarts. You were finally starting to feel grown and now everything is changing, but unbeknownst to you, the lonely potions professor will capture your heart and hold it for many years to come.

A Severus Snape fan fiction.

A/n hello, welcome to my first harry potter story, i'm going to start by saying all my knowledge is from the movies, some things/timelines may not line up correctly/aren't completely accurate or not mentioned but its to go with the flow of the story! thank you and enjoy!

I continued packing and sorting through all my belongings in my room while listening to music, attempting to drown out the cries and yells coming from downstairs. My mother had just announced to my father that she was leaving him and taking me with her. He was going to be left with nothing but the house and his things, I was okay with that though, he was nothing slight of an asshole. I sat down staring at a picture of me and my older sister when we were little, sitting in the same dusty plaid green sofa that sat in my living room at this very moment. I sighed as I briskly wiped a single tear that slid down my cheek, not wanting to be seen, I knew that was silly and that it was me simply being human, but my parents never showed much emotion around me, and my father often mocked those who expressed them, calling them weak minded for grieving or even crying for that matter. And my mother would often leave the room the minute she felt anything other than joy or anger, but she never fooled anyone, we always knew she walked away to cry silently alone. I remember vividly the first time I saw my mother cry. I was 7 and her father had passed away a couple days prior and we all went for a walk downtown, there was a candlelight vigil for some random old guy, but he had died from the same thing that took my grandfather from her. He wasn't around much when she was younger and he never bothered to meet my sister or I but I knew she still held tightly on the fond memories of him from when she was a girl. She began to walk away and me being clueless followed her, it was then I saw her taking out a handkerchief and wiping a few stray tears away. I reached my little hand up and rested it on her shoulder and told her it's ok, but she shrugged it off and told me to go back with my dad and keep walking. That's when I learned to just leave her alone anytime she was upset. I had never seen my father cry in my entire life until a couple months ago when his father was then taken from him, and even then it was only a few tears at his funeral which were quickly whisked away and never to be seen again. It was no surprise though.

I didn't dare go downstairs at the moment I knew my presence would only make things worse. Even amidst all this chaos neither of them shed a tear, which led me to believe they never really cared for each other the way parents were supposed to. It hurt watching the family being broken apart but what hurt the most was leaving Beauxbatons. I had just begun my sixth year there and I was so excited, I was almost done, I loved this school it was perfect for a girl like me, and I was dreading moving schools, but when I found out I was enrolling in Hogwarts I did a lot of research which wasn't easy, luckily I knew someone who worked there, or shall I say ran the whole thing. Albus Dumbledore, also known as my godfather, I know it may seem weird for me to have ever attended Beauxbatons, but my sister went there and my mother wanted me to follow in her footsteps, she wasn't happy about me transferring either, but she knew we needed to get far from my father.

I got up off my creaky bed and gently waved my wand in the air and finished packing everything up, setting the picture frame in last and closing my suitcases. I stood still for a moment thinking over all the memories I had in this house, I had lived here as long as I could remember and I was devastated to leave it. Especially in the care of my useless father. I tucked my h/c hair out of my face and behind my ear and muttered a spell which lifted my suitcases for me and began to quietly walk out of my room pausing in the doorway to listen for the muffled voices of my parents, I waited about three minutes and heard nothing assuming they either tired out from arguing or just got so mad they both stormed away. I turned to look into my room for one last time, admiring the homey feel it gave off, the light grey walls that I had just painted a year prior because I wanted a more "mature look" as opposed to the bright blue that had remained prior from when I was 10. I swallowed the lump in my throat and closed the door behind me, walking down the rickety stairs that creaked with every step, my luggage following close behind. I ran my hand along the railing, taking in every chip and crack from many times sliding down them with my sister.

As I approached the living room I noticed my father lazily plopped on the couch looking over a newspaper, visibly tired from the arguing he had just got done doing. "Where's mother?'' I asked in a small tone, careful not to startle him. "She's loading her stuff into the car...did you know she was going to take that too?" he asked with a clear tone of anger. "No actually I didn't." I said smirking sarcastically and heading out the front door. "Hey" I said with a small smile as I approached the car. My mother was hurriedly loading her stuff in and asking me to do as many spells as I could to fit it all in the small car. She didn't answer as she continued loading stuff in. "Need any help?" I asked using the same spells on my luggage and putting it in the front seat where my feet would go. "No y/n right now I just need your father to not be a fucking asshole" she spoke in a harsh but obviously exhausted tone. "Ha well only in our dreams right '' I said laughing slightly trying to lighten the mood. She just ignored it and shut the trunk of the car with a loud slam. "Keep slamming shit and you won't have a car to take from me!" I heard my dad holler from the house. I turned and faced the door where his voice boomed from and looked back at my mom, "Anything else we need?" I asked politely. "No that's all now go say goodbye I'll be waiting here in the car." she said sternly and got into the car without a second thought starting it up and waiting. I quickly went up the steps into my home and walked into my fathers line of view. "We are leaving now." I said with my hands on my hips staring at him as he continued to read the paper. "Mm" was all he said, I continued to stand there staring him down. "Is there anything else you want to say before we go?" I asked my patience growing thin as he continued to read the paper, slowly flipping the pages of the thin material and ignoring my questions. "Okay , well If not I'm going to go, hopefully I don't get in an accident and DIE on the way there" I said sarcastically seeing if it would lead him to saying even a simple "goodbye". No answer. "Ok, bye father. I am sorry things aren't different." I said as I walked away, as I passed the mantle on the fireplace I noticed a picture my mother had conveniently left behind, it was a family photo from a trip we all took when I was about 13, I picked it up and looked at it closely. We all looked so happy, there was still light in my eyes and love in my parents'. I looked over my shoulder at my father seeing he still had his nose in the paper and I put the picture in my bag I had draped on my shoulder.

I heard my mom honking the horn and looked up at the open door, I looked one last time back at my father before heading out to the front, closing the door behind me and heading down the step. I climbed in the passenger seat and shut the door putting my bag in my lap and double checking I had my wand. I took the letter I had received from Dumbledore when he found out I was transferring and reviewed over the helpful words he had written to get me familiar with how things worked here. I studied the steps to get there and what to expect upon arrival. Since school had already started three weeks ago I knew I was going to have some catching up to do. I turned the paper over and muttered "aparecium" to myself to reveal the map of Hogwarts he put on the back so I wouldn't stick out like a first year who is lost and has no idea where anything is, even though I didn't have a clue.

" Are you excited?" my mother asked as we continued to drive to the train station. "Not particularly" I said looking out the window as we drove farther and farther away from the town I had spent my whole life in and grown to love. "I think you will find that you love Hogwarts, it's a lovely school according to Albus" she said, trying to get me to be more positive about the situation, but I just continued to stay silent. "Look y/n I know this is hard, it's not easy for me either, but this is a good thing, it's a new chapter for us, and you are going to meet so many new witches and wizards and you're going to make a lot of new memories!" she said looking over at me smiling. "I doubt it," I said trying to focus on anything else but the current situation. "Well I tried if you don't want to see this as a good thing fine, but I wasn't going to stick around with that dirt bag father of yours, I needed to make a choice on what's best for us." She said a hint of anger in her tone at my relentless and stubborn attitude. "I know I'm just sad," I said honestly as we approached the train station. I began to feel a nervous tickle in my chest, and not a good one, not only had I never gone through platform 9 ¾ but I had never even ridden a train. I mean it can't be too scary. Maybe it was the being alone part. "Ok we are here, are you ready?" my mother said parking and smiling at me. "Fuck no."

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