#a car squished them to the wall? i mean that car was 'accidentally' left in drive instead of park
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Murder husbands/wives is fun and all.
But just. Accidental murder Platonic Besties.
They didn't mean to, but somehow people keep kind of stepping on their toes and alas a best friend that has defeated monsters can and will kill for their best friend. And, well, not their fault they're more wrapped up in each other's wellbeing than the fact one of them pushed a guy off a rocky cliff to their death.
It keeps happening, they kill people who make their best friend really uncomfortable/In a bad position, and they continue on. Sometimes they just do it themselves, no harm no shame.
And like. Of course they'll give chances, everyone deserves chances, but they better watch out.
It depends if like. They mentally soak in the fact they killed people? Maybe they do, and are freaking out every single time, maybe they don't and just believe that 'Hm, maybe they left?' because they don't really... Look down.
They're very protective of each other.
If we go farther, maybe it extends to the others as well. They love the family they've created, and they're 100% down to be scary guard dogs. Maybe they would have some sort of unconscious moral code, so they're not running around killing children for children, but everyone else is mostly up for grabs.
It's not that weird Robin wields a little knife now, life can be tough. Or that Steve's got permanent 'Can-And-Will-Take-A-Bullet-For-You' Syndrome, his friends keep getting themselves in danger of likely possible death.
#stranger things#steve harrington#robin buckley#platonic with a capital p#they just turn on Protect Mode and think about consequences later#how do they not get caught is the thing#maybe steve just charismas them to somewhere where it would be impossible to see unless you specifically looked#or they somehow are always isolated incidents#maybe it somehow only happens where if you look at it it just looks like accidents you can't pin on people#like oh this guy got stabbed in the gut by a shattered wine glass? room was pretty packed#a car squished them to the wall? i mean that car was 'accidentally' left in drive instead of park#bleeding to death? hm i don't see a murder weapon (It was robin's ring when she 'brushed' it past)
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june 20, 2023
So, one could say she’s been my best friend for a year
and also, she tops literally everyone else. We all have that one friend. Sarah is that one friend.
We’ve become even closer since she moved away, and she’s the first person who read these, back when I considered allowing them to collect dust on my google drive.
We are wildly similar and wildly opposite.
And this week we both had really weird encounters with ants.
She told me maybe she swallowed one in her sleep. I really didn’t want to engage in a conversation about how many bugs we realistically have already swallowed, so after she told me she might have swallowed a bug, I moved on and completely forgot about my best friend’s choking hazard.
Then I went to bed and found an ant on my pillow.
I’m the type of person that lets bugs outside instead of squishing them. A bug pacifist, if you will.
The last time I saw an ant inside, I was in the middle of a cross- country move. My dad was helping me move and somehow, our fresh off the lot Honda was infested with ants.
Ants everywhere. Ant mania. Antzapalooza.
That was the first time my dad saw me have a panic attack.
He wouldn’t see me have another until I got arrested 6 months later.
Despite the inconvenience, we cleared my car of the ants and eventually I completed my journey from the actual Mason - Dixon line to New England.
My dad and I had to kill a lot of ants, and I guess that’s why I take them outside now - because I feel bad for all the ants I had to kill in May of 2017.
When I saw that ant on my pillow, I was prepared for an infestation, but there was just one.
I let him outside and I took it as a sign.
Bestie and I each saw an ant.
(You’ll come to realize I’m a woo woo bitch who thinks everything is a sign, sometimes I genuinely wonder [and fear] whether or not that will go away with antipsychotics. I deeply enjoy being able to find meaning in anything- but it’s as double edged as you would think, because not everything has meaning- some things just exist as they are. Ants on pillows.)
Hey Siri, what’s the symbolism behind an ant?
Willpower
Diligence
Patience
Truth
Cooperation and teamwork
Fidelity
Power
Individual strength and even more strength in numbers
When I was moving, it was the single-most pivotal moment of my twenties. I left a man who was throwing me into walls and calling it love. Sometimes running is okay. I ran towards myself. I demonstrated willpower and embraced my truth.
My best friend is about to move, and I hope she realizes that that ant probably wasn’t trying to choke her. I think it was trying to tell her, “Hey Sarah, running is okay. You are strong. You are powerful. Go find your truth. And I’m sorry you thought I was trying to choke you. I accidentally fell in your mouth, won't happen again.”
Honestly, I wouldn’t have looked up what it means to come across an ant unless she came across one first. Strength in numbers.
I’m in the second-most pivotal point in my twenties. It’s my fifth day on antipsychotics and I feel grounded. I feel in touch. I feel like I just saw an ant, let it outside, and moved on with my day.
Before, every day felt like I was trapped in a Honda - surrounded by a million ants.
She and I will be just fine.
I will keep letting bugs outside, my bug pacifism continues on.
Unless you’re a tick. Nope.
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i accidentally deleted your request anon😭 but i managed to take a pic before! so, here it is!
prompt 36: “fuck you scared me... don’t you do that ever again!”
prompt 37: “are you afraid to die?”
warnings: angst, talk about death, kinda grim, self indulgent (just a bit! y/n’s thought process) car accident, loss of memory, crying osamu
osamu miya x gn!reader (intended lower case)
in the comfort of the darkness, you sat on your sweater on a hill that overlooked your neighbourhood.
after a long day of school and work, you managed to squeeze some time of solitude for your thoughts.
with your knees pulled to your chest and your chin resting on your crossed arms, you inhaled the sweet scent of freedom.
out here, away from the busy streets and tall buildings, you were free. out here, with only the trees and stars to keep you company, you were content with life.
you heard rustling behind you and shut your eyes, inhaling a long breath before you heard a familiar voice quietly call out to you.
“here,” you whispered.
you didn’t turn, nor did you look up. osamu laid a jacket beside you before sitting down next to you. his arm brushing against yours.
“how’d you know it was me?”
you smiled. it was the same question he asked you every time he received a text from you and met you up on your hill. and every time, you gave him the same answer.
“just a hunch.”
osamu drifted his eyes away from your face to the stars. there wasn’t much of a difference, he thought. the stars were just as captivating as you, you more so. you were just as fascinating as the stars, shining brightly in solitude and the dark.
without making any unnecessary noises, osamu leaned back on his hands, kicking his legs out in front of him.
he needed this break just as much as you did.
in the silence of the night, you and osamu sat together, letting the stress and sorrows of the previous week slip away.
simultaneously, you both leaned back, your heads resting on the soft fresh grass.
you gently shut your eyes, reminiscing in the quiet atmosphere. no one was here to bother you. there were no looming assignments or demeaning parents.
out here, it was just you and the stars.
and osamu.
“are ya afraid to die?”
your eyes flew open, and you turned your head, grass tickling your cheek.
osamu’s dark grey eyes twinkled as he stared into your eyes. you thought about his question. obscure thoughts tangled with apparent ones.
you turned your head, facing the dark sky.
“not really.”
osamu hummed. “why not?”
you lifted your hand, spreading your fingers so each nail connect with a stare.
“because it’s inevitable.”
osamu raised his eyebrow. shifting to his side to face you completely. “care to expand?”
“i’m not afraid to die because the second you’re welcomed into this world, you’re introduced to the concept of death. you know you’re going to die. so you live while you can.”
osamu’s eyes were set on you. you always sounded so old—mature—when you talked like this. like you knew things he couldn’t understand.
fate he couldn’t fathom.
“i’m not afraid to die because i’ve been preparing for it my whole life.”
you turned your head to meet osamu’s curious eyes.
“that’s a bit depressing,” osamu laughs.
you grin at him, your lips pulling into a breathtaking smile. “it is.”
after a few silent moments, you whispered,
“memento mori.”
“what?”
you pretended to squish the stars in between your thumb and index finger like grapes.
“it’s a latin phrase that originated from ancient rome.”
“what does it mean?”
osamu loved your knowledge of random things. he knew an abundance of phrases from different origins because of you.
“remember that you will die.”
“god, y/n,” osamu sighed. “you’re so grim.”
you smiled. “what? it keeps me grounded.” osamu let out a light chuckle.
“no matter what i do, how much money i make, who i marry, i’m not going to live forever. i won’t go down in history unless i do something monumental. i’ll live, i’ll aim for a good life, and then, inevitably, i’ll die. it helps remind me that stress and sadness does eventually come to and end.”
you licked your lips. “are you afraid to die?”
osamu shrugged. “yeah. i am.”
you shifted your weight to your side so you were completely facing him. with your arm bent under your head, you rested your head on your elbow.
“how come?”
osamu shifted his eyes to the ground before meeting yours again.
“i guess i’m afraid of not living my life to the fullest. i wanna be happy. do things that’ll make me smile. i wanna die knowing i lived the best i could.”
you gently smiled at him. “what’s stopping you?”
silence.
osamu stared at you like he didn’t know how to comprehend your question.
what was stopping him?
he was young, talented, and persistent.
a heavy realization fell upon osamu. there was nothing stopping him. he was stopping him.
the only person who stood between his happiness, was himself.
with a goofy smile, osamu turned to face the stars.
“nothing. nothing at all.”
you smiled at him, happy he understood. you gently pushed yourself up, letting out a small yawn. you stretched your arms, sighing when you heard your shoulders quietly crack.
“time to go home.”
osamu let out a whine. “do we have too?”
you stood up, brushing your jeans with your hands. you grabbed your sweater, slipping it on.
“yes, ‘samu.” you narrowed your eyes at his frown. “we have school tomorrow.”
osamu rolled his eyes, but got up anyways. he grabbed his jacket, throwing it over his shoulder.
“let’s go home then.”
you both walked down the hill and into the street, bickering and laughing.
your heart felt so full. this is what you were afraid of losing. this laughter and feeling of content. you weren’t afraid of dying, you were afraid of loosing the feeling of your heart being full forever.
so when you pushed osamu out of the way, and a car came blazing towards you, you didn’t have a moment to think about what was going to happen.
only that you really liked laughing and would miss it.
before the pain took over, you remembered hearing osamu’s loud and panicked voice yell your name. the last thing you saw were his tear-filled grey eyes.
***
the smell of antiseptic, stainless steel, and blood filled your senses and your eyes flew open.
as quickly as you opened your eyes, you squeezed them shut. the bright lights of the hospital room too strong for your weak eyes.
the machines around you buzzed and you groaned. pain had enveloped you completely and you licked your dry lips.
your head was pounding and your memory was hazy. you pulled yourself up, wincing in pain when the iv in your arm moved with you.
you gently opened your eyes, blinking to get used to the bright white light.
your eyes swept across the large hospital room and your frowned.
how did i get here?
your eyes fell on a mop of grey hair and you blinked a few times to clear your vision. your eyes took in the male sitting by your bed, his eyes closed and his lips pulled into a frown.
you tried putting a name to the far familiar face, but you came up empty, and at that thought, you started spluttering, trying to form words.
at the sound of your hoarse breath, the grey-haired man’s eyes flew open and locked on you.
your eyes were locked on the rheumy and heavy-lidded eyes, the taste of familiarity on your tongue but unidentifiable.
“y/n...”
the voice you had heard in your dreams whispered a name you knew was yours.
you licked your cracks lips. “water.”
immediately, the trance the man was in has broken and he sprang up, grabbing a water bottle and handing it to you. you hesitatingly grabbed it, staring at the lid before gently twisting it.
the man stared at you, his eyes burning holes into you. you kept your gaze on your bed, afraid of the pain you felt when you looked at him.
he quickly left the room, yelling an unfamiliar name loudly.
you drank half of the water bottle before twisting the cap back on. you leaned back, wincing. you gingerly brought your hand to your forehead, gasping at the feeling of bandage.
a tall, thin and pale man with light brown hair and round glasses walked into the room. he wore a long white coat and was holding a clipboard. the same man with grey hair and a women of much shorter height with tear-stained cheeks walked in behind him.
the man, whom you assumed was a doctor, walked up to you, keeping a distance. he smiled at you before motioning to the chair beside you.
you nodded, unable to use your words.
“y/n, i’m doctor kim.” he waited before you met his eyes. “do you know where you are?”
you stared at him. he waited patiently until you gently nodded. “the hospital.”
doctor kim smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling.
“that’s right. can you tell me your full name?”
you stared at him, your eyebrows furrowed. you tried remembering, but your head began to hurt profoundly. it was like there was a wall that separated you from your memories.
“it’s okay,” doctor kim whispered. “you must feel disoriented.”
you didn’t nod, just fought the wall. you knew that you had a last name. it was right there, but unaccessible.
after a few painfully silent moments later, you let out a heavy sigh.
“l/n. y/n l/n.”
doctor kim smiled and the women in the corner of the room let out a sob, her hand coming to cover her mouth.
you stared at the women, a wave of familiarity hit you and you frowned. you knew her. so why couldn’t you remember?
“y/n,” you turned your head to face the calm eyes of the doctor. “you were in an accident.”
your frown deepened. “i don’t... remember.”
doctor kim nodded, his eyes glancing at the clipboard before he smiled a faux smile at you.
“you hit your head really hard. it’ll take you a few days to regain all your memories. you remember your name, that’s great process. over the week, your memories should all come back to you.”
you nodded. an accident? why didn’t you remember? and why was the man with grey hair staring at you like that?
doctor kim checked the machines before making his way to the door. he smiled at you and then looked at the women.
“ms. l/n, can you come with me to fill out a few pages?”
your breath hitched. your eyes were locked on familiar ones and you quietly whispered, “mom?”
your mother painfully smiled at you before running out the door behind the doctor. you watched her go with a frowned.
you turned your head to the man who stood in the corner. his posture was rigid and you were sure he hadn’t blinked since he walked in the room. his gaze unwavering.
you shifted your eyes from his, his gaze too intense.
“can i... can i sit?”
you nodded. his voice was intensely familiar. it was the voice you heard in your dreams. the one you had grew attached too.
osamu sat on the chair with hesitation. he was feeling so many things at once. you had been in a week long coma, and osamu hadn’t had a moment of rest since he sat with you in the ambulance.
osamu let out a heavy sigh, bringing his hands to cover his face. you watched him from the corner of your vision. he felt so familiar, so why couldn’t you recall his name?
osamu began to cry, his shoulders shaking.
you turned your head to face him, your lips set into a permanent frown. for some reason unknown to you, your heart hurt at the sight of his tears.
“fuck, y/n,” osamu lifted his head. his eyes brimmed with red. “you scared me.”
you stared at him, unsure of what to do. you didn’t know why you had scared him. but his shoulders shook and his lips trembled, so you stayed quiet.
“don’t you— don’t you do that ever again!”
you just silently watched as the grey-haired man cried and yelled at you. “don’t you ever push me away! don’t you ever try and save me again!”
the room was heavy with silence. the grey haired man sobbed into his hands and the machines buzzed in your head.
you don’t know what compelled you to say this, but you did anyways. it felt right. like the man crying in front of you deserved to hear these words.
“i won’t. i’m sorry.”
at the sound of your voice, his crying grew quieter and after a few moments, he wiped his tears, his bloodshot eyes staring at you.
“promise me.”
you saw the whirlpool of emotions in his grey eyes and although you couldn’t decipher them, you promised anyways.
when he smiled, his cheeks using muscles it hadn’t in a week, you suddenly felt guilty.
you had promised to a stranger.
a stranger who seemed to know you better than you knew yourself.
a stranger who seemed to think you knew him.
i didn’t know what kind of angst you wanted anon, so i kinda went with the flow! also, i was too lazy to add capitals. so. i think it adds to the theme. sure.
also yes. doctor kim from dr. romantic. sue me.
taglist: @h-grangerstudies @elektrosonix @snoozless @ackerpotato @asterroidd @rinrinniesstuff @bokuatsubro @literaleftist @howcanyoubreathewithnozaire @addicedtoeverythinganime @felixsamour @megumeee @aghashiii @fail-big @kailleis-sunshine
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hana’s author note.
#haikyuu#haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu scenarios#haikyuu angst#miya osamu#hq osamu#osamu scenarios#osamu x reader#osamu angst#osamu x y/n#hq x you#hq angst#haikyuu imagines#hq#hq imagines#hq prompts#hana.writes!
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This fic was based off the song "I hate u" by Simon Curtis and this takes place in the Every Rose Has Its Thorns (ERHIT) universe. This is a side fic and is by no means canon with the main story or with any future events in the story.
Tw: smut (but not the actual sex it's just very sexual and a lot of foreplay)
Tw: violence at the beginning
ENJOY
I hate him…
God, do I hate him…
It wasn’t supposed to happen like this…
But that’s how it always happens, isn’t it?
Those were Tabby’s thoughts as she was being pinned up against a tree in the backyard with the man that she despised. Holding her wrists up, body pressed up against her and his knee adding pressure between her legs. He looked at her with a mixture of coldness, cruelness, and amusement with a hint of lust for the younger girl. Tabby, on the other hand, looked up at him directly in the eyes with the most hateful, defiant, spiteful, lustful look to date.
How did she get into this position? Well, let’s go back a few months ago.
It all started with a mission. Masky, Hoodie, Toby, and Tabby were all put on the same team. Since Tabby was only three days in, she was brand new. So, the Slenderman put her in a group with the most experience, so maybe she could learn something. The mission should take at least six months, and it was to infiltrate a school and capture someone whos been trying to get information on the Slenderman. That meant living like usual and all together.
That didn’t settle well for Tabby and Hoodie. Tabby already didn’t trust the three as far as she could throw them. And after a brutal argument with Hoodie about him manipulating her and digging her heels in farther and saying how she will do as she damn well pleases. She realized that they were never going to see eye to eye, and after an argument like that, she can only assume that there will be more to come, which means that this would be a long six months.
The arguments started as yelling matches. Being raised the way that she was, Tabby was taught to go for the throat and attack where it will hurt most in a fight, whether it was a physical or verbal fight. Tabby had her stepdad’s verbal abuse to thank for her sharp tongue and harsh wit. Therefore Tabby always had the last word. This did not settle well with Hoodie. He hated how a scrawny, bratty teenager always got the best of him. It was time for his retaliation.
Hoodie was twice Tabby’s size. So he was able to overpower her with brute strength alone. He didn’t care if she was a girl or the fact that she was a teenager. To him, the moment you join the proxies is the moment you become an adult and become fair game. That’s when the arguments got physical. Hoodie was always the first to snap, so to Tabby, it was a fair fight and game on. Tabby is not the one to go down without a fight. So she’s just as vicious of a fighter as he is. Tabby may be small, but she’ll give you a run for your money. Hoodie may have gotten a bloody nose, black eyes, bruised throat, and maybe a broken arm once. But it was Tabby who is either face-first to the floor with him straddling her with her hair being pulled up forcefully in a tight grip or her being pinned up to the wall by her throat with his entire body pressed up against her to keep her from moving.
Nevertheless Tabby showed no fear. She exhibited nothing but contempt, hatred, and spite with a subtle hint of arousal. She always waited for his next move. Was it death? Or was it something farther? She never knew. Hoodie never hurt her too bad nor made anymore potentially sexual advances. He’d be lying if he didn’t say that he felt oddly aroused every time that happens. Just seeing her in a helpless state, under his mercy, while still having that defiant look to her? It was enough to drive him insane. He often had to go to the bathroom to ‘take care of himself’ after letting her go. He hated how the brat got him so riled up. It took him a little while to figure out that the little shit got aroused by that as well.
It wasn’t until he was training her for the first time while the other two were away that cemented it in, which brings it up to the” present time. He was somehow always put in charge of babysitting Tabby, much to both of their dismays. Tabby running on nothing but pure emotion and spite attacked him first.
“Stupid girl,” he thought to himself.
It didn’t take long until she was face first in the dirt, with him straddling her from behind, and he suddenly pulled her hair up with a tight and painful force. Tabby gasped at the pain and for breath. He leaned down close to her soft spot, which was where her ear meets her neck.
“You wanna try that again?” he whispered to her.
Tabby had to bite back a moan as he accidentally ground up against her as he sat back up. She struggled to control her breathing.
“Fuck...you…” she spat out along with the dirt that was in her mouth.
That was all he needed to go right ahead. Hoodie raised an eyebrow and got off of her.
“Are you sure about that? Is that what you really want?” he stated, darkly moving towards her.
Tabby scrambled to get up and brush herself off before moving backward, trying to get away from him. Her eyes were wide in suspense, and he daresay a hint of fear. Her eyes quickly darted from one area to another, looking for a way out. But there wasn’t any. She let out a squeak; she felt her back hit the tree in the backyard that they’re in. The backyard was fenced in highly, so it was almost like they were secluded.
She was utterly alone.
Hoodie planned to take full advantage of that. God, she looked so cute, being in fear and having nowhere else to go. Completely helpless and at his mercy. He walked towards her with a dark predatory grin spreading across his face.
“What makes you say that?” she said shakily with defiance in her voice.
Hoodie moved with the speed of a viper. He had her wrists pinned up above her head, one knee between her thighs so she was on his and his entire body pressed against her. Tabby sucked in a breath.
“Oh, I think that you know perfectly well what I mean,” hissed Hoodie in his low voice. Tabby looked at him wide-eyed, clearly unsure where this was going.
“Always starting fights with me…,” he trailed off and lifted his hand to touch the top of Tabby’s head and moved down to the shape of her face. Tabby flinched at first before being surprised at his gentle touch.
“Always fighting back and never doing what you’re told....,” his voice lowered and became softer as he gently caressed her cheekbones before touching her lips, parting them with his thumb, and Tabby whimpered as she lightly bit down in submission. She looked down, embarrassed with her half-lidded eyes. She then let out a stifled moan as she tried to shift her position so she wouldn’t be as uncomfortable, but she wasn’t expecting to be so sensitive when she accidentally grind up his thigh and then slowly slid back down in a fruitless attempt. Hoodie had to bite back a groan at the beautiful sight before him. Tabby being completely helpless and under his control and her squirming around rubbing up in certain areas was not helping him out either. Hoodie was surprised at how submissive Tabby was; he expected more of a fight.
“Hm?” said Hoodie as he roughly grabbed Tabby’s chin, slightly squishing her cheeks together making her look at him.
“In my defense”, she said through squished cheeks and narrowed her undeniably lustful eyes,” you start shit with me...I just finish it.”
“Fair enough. But I think it’s time that you learn your place”, said Hoodie.
Hoodie crashed his lips into hers that he was most definitely bruising hers while adding more pressure between her legs. Tabby let out a moan of pain and pleasure; she ground up his thigh slowly, then feverishly. Hoodie couldn’t help but break his composure but moan into the makeout session at the building friction. He ran his hands all over her body harshly to bruise her and bit her as well, leaving marks. Tabby moaned again and whimpered. It was like she was forced to drink cup after cup of his contempt.
But then again, he was forced to drink cup after cup of hers as well.
Tabby decided to get even with him. With both of them running on lust, his grip on her arms became lackadaisical, so she managed to get one of her arms free. She grabbed what fistful of his hair that she could and bring him closer to her pressing her entire body against him and grinding up wherever she could to gain more friction for the both of them. She did it harshly to leave both of their bodies aching later. She bit at his lips to bruise them and draw blood. She left nail marks, bite marks, and scratch marks on wherever skin was exposed. That was sure to leave his skin raw later. They were both moaning messes with Tabby's growing ever so louder.
Then they heard the sound of a car pulling up and parking, with the classic noises of the car doors slamming and the beeping of the keys. Masky and Toby were home.
Hoodie pulled away and dropped her. Tabby let out a yelp as he dropped her.
“Hey, what the hell!”, said Tabby still on all fours.
“The boys are home. Do you really want them to see us like this?” asked Hoodie as if nothing happened.
Tabby shook her head no.
“That’s what I thought,” said Hoodie as he walked back towards the house.
“But now I know what you’re into, and that’s very useful to use against you,” said Hoodie as he looked over his shoulder at her with the most sadistic smile before disappearing into the house.
“YOU SON OF A BITCH!”, screamed Tabby but he couldn’t hear her.
She took a few minutes to get her breathing back to normal and to recompose herself before standing up and fixing herself.
“I hate you,” she said in thought as she ran to catch up with them.
#tw smut#tw violence#every rose has its thorn#erhit au#creepypasta#creepypasta fandom#original character#tabbyanderson#tabby#hoody marble hornets#brian thomas#ticci toby#toby rogers#masky marble hornets#tim wright
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This fic was based off the song "I hate u" by Simon Curtis and this takes place in the Every Rose Has Its Thorns (ERHIT) universe. This is a side fic and is by no means canon with the main story or with any future events in the story.
Tw: smut (but not the actual sex it's just very sexual and a lot of foreplay)
Tw: violence at the beginning.
ENJOY.
I hate him…
God, do I hate him…
It wasn’t supposed to happen like this…
But that’s how it always happens, isn’t it?
Those were Tabby’s thoughts as she was being pinned up against a tree in the backyard with the man that she despised. Holding her wrists up, body pressed up against her and his knee adding pressure between her legs. He looked at her with a mixture of coldness, cruelness, and amusement with a hint of lust for the younger girl. Tabby, on the other hand, looked up at him directly in the eyes with the most hateful, defiant, spiteful, lustful look to date.
How did she get into this position? Well, let’s go back a few months ago.
It all started with a mission. Masky, Hoodie, Toby, and Tabby were all put on the same team. Since Tabby was only three days in, she was brand new. So, the Slenderman put her in a group with the most experience, so maybe she could learn something. The mission should take at least six months, and it was to infiltrate a school and capture someone whos been trying to get information on the Slenderman. That meant living like usual and all together.
That didn’t settle well for Tabby and Hoodie. Tabby already didn’t trust the three as far as she could throw them. And after a brutal argument with Hoodie about him manipulating her and digging her heels in farther and saying how she will do as she damn well pleases. She realized that they were never going to see eye to eye, and after an argument like that, she can only assume that there will be more to come, which means that this would be a long six months.
The arguments started as yelling matches. Being raised the way that she was, Tabby was taught to go for the throat and attack where it will hurt most in a fight, whether it was a physical or verbal fight. Tabby had her stepdad’s verbal abuse to thank for her sharp tongue and harsh wit. Therefore Tabby always had the last word. This did not settle well with Hoodie. He hated how a scrawny, bratty teenager always got the best of him. It was time for his retaliation.
Hoodie was twice Tabby’s size. So he was able to overpower her with brute strength alone. He didn’t care if she was a girl or the fact that she was a teenager. To him, the moment you join the proxies is the moment you become an adult and become fair game. That’s when the arguments got physical. Hoodie was always the first to snap, so to Tabby, it was a fair fight and game on. Tabby is not the one to go down without a fight. So she’s just as vicious of a fighter as he is. Tabby may be small, but she’ll give you a run for your money. Hoodie may have gotten a bloody nose, black eyes, bruised throat, and maybe a broken arm once. But it was Tabby who is either face-first to the floor with him straddling her with her hair being pulled up forcefully in a tight grip or her being pinned up to the wall by her throat with his entire body pressed up against her to keep her from moving.
Nevertheless Tabby showed no fear. She exhibited nothing but contempt, hatred, and spite with a subtle hint of arousal. She always waited for his next move. Was it death? Or was it something farther? She never knew. Hoodie never hurt her too bad nor made anymore potentially sexual advances. He’d be lying if he didn’t say that he felt oddly aroused every time that happens. Just seeing her in a helpless state, under his mercy, while still having that defiant look to her? It was enough to drive him insane. He often had to go to the bathroom to ‘take care of himself’ after letting her go. He hated how the brat got him so riled up. It took him a little while to figure out that the little shit got aroused by that as well.
It wasn’t until he was training her for the first time while the other two were away that cemented it in. Which brings it up to present time. He was somehow always put in charge of babysitting Tabby, much to both of their dismays. Tabby running on nothing but pure emotion and spite attacked him first.
“Stupid girl,” he thought to himself.
It didn’t take long until she was face first in the dirt, with him straddling her from behind, and he suddenly pulled her hair up with a tight and painful force. Tabby gasped at the pain and for breath. He leaned down close to her soft spot, which was where her ear meets her neck.
“You wanna try that again?” he whispered to her.
Tabby had to bite back a moan as he accidentally ground up against her as he sat back up. She struggled to control her breathing.
“Fuck...you…” she spat out along with the dirt that was in her mouth.
That was all he needed to go right ahead. Hoodie raised an eyebrow and got off of her.
“Are you sure about that? Is that what you really want?” he stated, darkly moving towards her.
Tabby scrambled to get up and brush herself off before moving backward, trying to get away from him. Her eyes were wide in suspense, and he daresay a hint of fear. Her eyes quickly darted from one area to another, looking for a way out. But there wasn’t any. She let out a squeak; she felt her back hit the tree in the backyard that they’re in. The backyard was fenced in highly, so it was almost like they were secluded.
She was utterly alone.
Hoodie planned to take full advantage of that. God, she looked so cute, being in fear and having nowhere else to go. Completely helpless and at his mercy. He walked towards her with a dark predatory grin spreading across his face.
“What makes you say that?” she said shakily with defiance in her voice.
Hoodie moved with the speed of a viper. He had her wrists pinned up above her head, one knee between her thighs so she was on his and his entire body pressed against her. Tabby sucked in a breath.
“Oh, I think that you know perfectly well what I mean,” hissed Hoodie in his low voice. Tabby looked at him wide-eyed, clearly unsure where this was going.
“Always starting fights with me…,” he trailed off and lifted his hand to touch the top of Tabby’s head and moved down to the shape of her face. Tabby flinched at first before being surprised at his gentle touch.
“Always fighting back and never doing what you’re told....,” his voice lowered and became softer as he gently caressed her cheekbones before touching her lips, parting them with his thumb, and Tabby whimpered as she lightly bit down in submission. She looked down, embarrassed with her half-lidded eyes. She then let out a stifled moan as she tried to shift her position so she wouldn’t be as uncomfortable, but she wasn’t expecting to be so sensitive when she accidentally grind up his thigh and then slowly slid back down in a fruitless attempt. Hoodie had to bite back a groan at the beautiful sight before him. Tabby being completely helpless and under his control and her squirming around rubbing up in certain areas was not helping him out either. Hoodie was surprised at how submissive Tabby was; he expected more of a fight.
“Hm?” said Hoodie as he roughly grabbed Tabby’s chin, slightly squishing her cheeks together making her look at him.
“In my defense”, she said through squished cheeks and narrowed her undeniably lustful eyes,” you start shit with me...I just finish it.”
“Fair enough. But I think it’s time that you learn your place”, said Hoodie.
Hoodie crashed his lips into hers that he was most definitely bruising hers while adding more pressure between her legs. Tabby let out a moan of pain and pleasure; she ground up his thigh slowly, then feverishly. Hoodie couldn’t help but break his composure but moan into the makeout session at the building friction. He ran his hands all over her body harshly to bruise her and bit her as well, leaving marks. Tabby moaned again and whimpered. It was like she was forced to drink cup after cup of his contempt.
But then again, he was forced to drink cup after cup of hers as well.
Tabby decided to get even with him. With both of them running on lust, his grip on her arms became lackadaisical, so she managed to get one of her arms free. She grabbed what fistful of his hair that she could and bring him closer to her pressing her entire body against him and grinding up wherever she could to gain more friction for the both of them. She did it harshly to leave both of their bodies aching later. She bit at his lips to bruise them and draw blood. She left nail marks, bite marks, and scratch marks on wherever skin was exposed. That was sure to leave his skin raw later. They were both moaning messes with Tabbys growing ever so louder.
Then they heard the sound of a car pulling up and parking, with the classic noises of the car doors slamming and the beeping of the keys. Masky and Toby were home.
Hoodie pulled away and dropped her. Tabby let out a yelp as he dropped her.
“Hey, what the hell!”, said Tabby still on all fours.
“The boys are home. Do you really want them to see us like this?” asked Hoodie as if nothing happened.
Tabby shook her head no.
“That’s what I thought”, said Hoodie as he walked back towards the house.
"I hate you." She said in thought before running to catch up to them
“But now I know what you’re into, and that’s very useful to use against you”, said Hoodie as he looked over his shoulder at her with the most sadistic smile before disappearing into the house.
“YOU SON OF A BITCH!”, screamed Tabby but he couldn’t hear her.
She took a few minutes to get her breathing back to normal and to recompose herself before standing up and fixing herself.
"I hate you", she said in thought as she ran back into the house.
#tw smut#tw violence#original character#creepypasta#creepypasta fandom#tabby#tabbyanderson#tabby 👏 fucking 👏 anderson#every rose has its thorn#ERHIT#side fic#brian thomas#hoodie#crp masky#tim wright#toby rogers#ticci toby#toby
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agar tum saath ho (if you are with me)
pairing: choi soobin/choi yeonjun
word count: 5.2k
warnings: slight swearing
summary: when soobin's muscles start hurting after intense preparation for their upcoming comeback, he forces himself to deal with the pain. he couldn't worry and distract his members, not with the comeback so close. he could get through it just fine. after all, he needs to be a strong leader, right?
(alternatively: soobin endures the worst muscle pain ever but his members–and yeonjun–are here to help him through it and make him feel better. aka the soobin-centric txt sickfic you didn't need until right now)
Soobin doesn't swear much but fuck, were his neck and shoulder muscles hurting.
Granted, promotions are well underway and they have all been working themselves to the bone for the past two months, but Soobin knows this isn't normal. The last time he had ever felt this sore was back when he first joined the company and began his trainee period. Yet after that, his body quickly became accustomed to the intense practice and hadn't been in such bad shape since.
He sucks in a harsh breath as he gets up from his bed, wincing as he attempts to stretch before giving up, the pain making it difficult to even move. He hunches over and steps into his fuzzy slippers before entering the bathroom quietly to not wake anyone else up.
The boys are in their singing session, practicing in the recording booth when the painful soreness hits with full force. It’s only been two hours since Soobin woke up, but now he could barely move his neck without wanting to groan out loud.
Soobin has a feeling that it's going to be a long day.
+×+
What's worse is that Soobin is really tall. Admittedly, all the boys definitely have height, but with Soobin being the tallest, he’s sort of forced to look down at the rest of the members, and it’s taking a toll on his muscles. But what’s even worse than that is that the staff and their vocal trainer are all much shorter than all the boys, forcing him to look down even more.
Soobin feels really close to crying.
Beomgyu attaches himself to Soobin's back, deciding that he's the perfect wall between him and Taehyun's sharp gaze currently trying to burn holes into Beomgyu. Soobin sharply inhales as he attempts to get away from Beomgyu, but alas, his dongsaeng decides to not take a hint and instead holds on even tighter as if his life depended on it. (Honestly, it probably did considering it is Taehyun we’re talking about here, but that isn’t exactly soothing Soobin's pain, now is it?)
"Gyu, I know you're about to die, but can you please hide behind someone else? Look! Hyuka is right there, use him as your unwilling bodyguard instead," Soobin sighs, gesturing to the maknae who's playing yet another game on his phone.
“Come on hyung, you of all people know that Hyuka might be tall, but he has a backbone of a jellyfish,” Beomgyu argues, peeking out occasionally to find Taehyun still staring daggers into his soul.
“...Jellyfish don’t have spines, Beomgyu.”
“Precisely.”
“Hey, I heard that!” Hueningkai huffs from the couch, and Soobin can’t help but crack a small smile at their antics.
Deciding their shenanigans had gone on long enough, he tries to appease both parties.
“Taehyunnie, instead of looking at him like you’re going to crush all of his dreams into a pulp and eliminate him from the gene pool, please just talk to him. And Gyu, please, for the love I have for bread, just listen to him and don’t mess anything up. I know you’re both young, but I ask that just this once, you guys act your age,” Soobin instructs, a tinge of frustration and impatience coloring his voice.
Beomgyu’s quick defense dies in his throat as Soobin attempts to pry the younger’s fingers off of him. The younger three all look at each other in surprise. Usually, Soobin joined in on their fun, however petty it may be. And even if he was annoyed, he wouldn’t ever show it. But telling them to act their age? That was certainly a first.
"Again! Another round, boys. Beomgyu, move a little faster at this part. Hueningkai, smile more here. Yeonjun, at the chorus, hit the beat harder. Taehyun, keep up your foot work. Soobin, you're much too stiff and it's slowing everyone else down. Pick up the pace and give more impact at your parts. They look lackluster and it barely looks like you're dancing. Stay sharp," their choreographer calls out and Soobin presses his lips together in embarrassment, silently nodding as he feels his ears turn red from the comments.
Beomgyu reluctantly lets go of Soobin and the latter lets out a sigh of relief before walking away, his hands attempting to massage the pain out of his body as the rest of them silently stay back and watch him, still reeling from shock.
+×+
For the entirety of practice, he was being critiqued in one way or the other, whether it be the timing of his moves, or the slip of a note when singing. Every time it happened, he felt his team members' gazes on him but he refused to acknowledge the worried glances they would throw at each other. Normally, when it comes to performance practices, it's only minor comments at most, especially since they have every move down like it's burned into their brains. But Soobin is off his game with the pain in his neck spreading all the way to his shoulders and creeping down his back like poison ivy vines.
The harder Soobin attempts to push past the painful soreness, the more he feels his muscles seizing up and refusing to cooperate with him. The frustration edges into his voice but he shoves it back, throwing his all into yet another mind-numbing round of Can't You See Me?
Soobin knows that if he shows any trace of pain on his face, Yeonjun will notice instantly, and the kids will pick up on it not long after him. He couldn't ruin their practice just because he couldn't deal with some pain, not while it was during their comeback. He couldn't just invalidate all the work they had put in by not having his head in the game; Soobin couldn't do that to the members, to his friends.
Their performance director calls out for them to do another round of Puma and the exhausted boys simply nod, getting into position. Soobin winces as Yeonjun jumps up on his back for what felt like the hundredth time and gasps as his foot rocks right onto a particular pressure point. Soobin feels his knees buckle from the blinding pain and Yeonjun falls almost directly on top of him in surprise, their only saving grace being Hueningkai's quick reflexes half-catching Yeonjun so he doesn't smother Soobin.
The music stops as the staff and his members crowd around him but Soobin fights back the tears in his eyes as he accepts Taehyun's hand and stands up. He’s barely able to reach his full height because of the painful pressure pushing his posture down into an uncomfortable slump.
"Hyung!"
"Soobin-ah!"
"I'm fine everyone! My foot just slipped, that's all, I'm really sorry, please forgive me," Soobin manages a watery smile that seems to reassure the staff, but Beomgyu's hand on the small of his back and Yeonjun's intense stare raking over his face lets Soobin know that his closest friends needed much more convincing.
"I'm okay, guys, really. I wasn't thinking about my position and got there too late, that's why that happened. Hyung, Hyuka, you're both fine, right?" Soobin glances at them both worriedly, afraid that the fall may have hurt them. Well, that, and Soobin desperately wants the attention off of him and if he could pivot the topic (albeit as graceless as can be), he would definitely do it.
Taehyun and Beomgyu both sigh simultaneously behind him as Yeonjun and Hueningkai nod in unison. None of them decide to mention that Soobin just mentioned two extremely differing reasons for the accidental mishap.
“Binnie, are you sure you–”
“I said I’m fine Yeonjun. Just drop it, would you?” Soobin frowns, almost hissing and Yeonjun immediately presses his lips together and nods again, backing away. It was so unlike Soobin to refer to him by his name, oftentimes just sticking to ‘hyung’ or ‘Jjuni-hyung’. Not to mention he rarely lost his cool, especially in front of the younger members.
They get back into their beginning positions and this time, Soobin grits his teeth and squeezes his eyes shut through Yeonjun climbing back on to his back. His knuckles turn white from how hard he's clenching them.
Their choreographer and performance director decide to end practice early after Soobin's falling fiasco, giving them the remainder of the day to rest and unwind before the next performance.
In all honesty, Soobin just wants to go home and take a hot shower to relax his aching muscles before sleeping the evening away, but of course, life is never quite that simple.
+×+
Soobin really wants to believe he can handle the noise, really wants to hold out another 15 minutes because then they'll be home and he can close his eyes and have the world melt away. But he's uncomfortably squished between Taehyun and Hueningkai in the back, one laughing loudly in his left ear while the other's sharp tongue delivers jabs in his right and with the way his neck is awkwardly positioned on the headrest and shooting pain through the rest of his body, Soobin, the ever temperate and kind-hearted leader, snaps.
"Everyone, just the shut the fuck up! What is with you all? Is it so difficult to have just a little peace and quiet at least once in your day?"
The car goes deathly silent and all 4 boys turn to him, blatant shock on their faces, but now Soobin is on a roll and his frustrations he works so hard to keep in come tumbling out.
“I mean it’s like this every day! I wake up and there’s always just someone shouting or yelling and there’s never any time where no one makes a sound and, I don’t know, just fucking exists. There just always needs to be something happening, and I am just so sick and tired of all of it. If you want to talk, then talk quietly. There’s no need to be screaming halfway across the car when you’re literally right next to each other. We all live together and have phones that work perfectly well, you don’t have to speak like it’s your last chance to,” Soobin breathes out, his voice cracking on the last sentence as his mental dam breaks and holds nothing back. It’s off his chest now, but he doesn’t feel any better. The silence permeating the car is suffocating.
Soobin refuses to meet their lingering gazes and shoves his earbuds in his ears before turning his music up to an amount he knows he won't go deaf but might as well be close to it. He closes his eyes with a sigh and a painful wince as the car jostles over a rather bad pothole.
The rest of the members communicate with their eyes and nod before turning back to their phones, the pin-drop silence never being broken.
+×+
“Um, Soobin-hyung, why don’t you shower first today? I’ll go get dinner started with Gyu,” Taehyun says softly, standing at the doorway. His hand grips the doorjamb tightly as he peers up at his hyung, slightly unsure of Soobin’s reaction. Soobin opens his mouth in protest, but the younger shakes his head a bit and Soobin decides to drop the subject. No one could argue with Kang Taehyun once he’s made up his mind.
Taehyun walks away from the room and Soobin immediately grabs his favorite pajamas (a matching couples’ set Yeonjun had bought for their 3-month anniversary– it was so cliche, but hey, Soobin was a diehard fan of platitudes) and heads for the bathroom. Hopefully the heat and steam of the shower would loosen up his tightly coiled up muscles. Soobin thinks that if you were to compare a rock to his back, you wouldn’t be able to differentiate between the two.
Soobin heats up the water and finally relaxes under the warmth of the spray, posture sagging from relief as the water pelts down on him. He quickly washes his hair and spends the remainder of the time leaning against the shower wall tiredly. His muscles are definitely not as tight as before, but they still hurt every time he moves them. God is he stiff. Their choreographer definitely hadn’t been wrong about that.
He finishes washing up and leaves the bathroom, perking up slightly when he smells the food wafting in from the kitchen. Soobin drops his dirty clothes in the hamper before drifting over to their cramped kitchen space to find Taehyun and Beomgyu working on the tteokbokki diligently while Yeonjun and Hueningkai argue over which film to watch in the living room.
“Yah, hyung! Stop getting the sauce everywhere! You’re making a mess,” Taehyun whines, annoyed, and Beomgyu simply laughs, reaching over to smear said sauce on the other’s cheek. Taehyun makes a move to bite his finger and Beomgyu quickly pulls back, but they’re both smiling and Soobin can’t help but grin at how adorable they are.
“It smells really good in here you guys, good job. Didn’t think you could handle it,” Soobin jokes and the younger two immediately fall silent when they look up, mirroring offended looks on their faces as they quickly pull away from each other and hide their hands behind their back. They glance at each other worriedly before turning to face Soobin again.
“Hey, we’ll have you know that we’re MasterChefs in the making, we just choose not to show our abilities sometimes,” Beomgyu half-heartedly defends, biting the inside of his cheek. Taehyun nods in agreement.
“Hah, right, of course…” Soobin trails off, drumming his fingers lightly against the countertop as he tries to think of what to say.
"Besides, I'm good at everything. Gyu-hyung is just my helper," Taehyun pipes up and grins cheekily in an attempt to release the tension in the air. Beomgyu turns on him, picking up on his cue.
"Good at everything? Puh-lease. You're definitely not good at hiding the fact that you have a wholeass Jeongguk fan account. Even Namjoon-hyung knew about it! He literally exposed you. On camera, I might add," Beomgyu fires back.
Soobin shakes his head and laughs as they begin their bickering again (they say he and Yeonjun are bad, but Beomgyu and Taehyun really needed to take a look in the mirror for a change). Sometimes, the two of them really reminded Soobin of an old married couple.
Soobin decides to leave them be and goes out to check on the oldest and youngest fighting in the living room over what to watch.
“Hyung, I’m telling you we should watch Infinity War. It’s Soobin-hyung’s favorite movie and plus, it’s been such a long time since we all sat down and watched an Avengers movie!” Hueningkai exclaims, holding the remote up just an inch out of Yeonjun’s reach.
“But it’s so long! We should watch Parasite instead, none of us have ever even watched it. We’ve all seen Infinity War who knows how many times! I know it’s his favorite movie, but watching Parasite will be an adventure for all of us. And besides, you fall asleep halfway through literally any movie, Kai,” Yeonjun shoots back, finally grabbing the remote out of Hueningkai’s hand and moving away as the younger chases after him.
Soobin rolls his eyes good-naturedly as he holds his hand out to Yeonjun who willingly hands over the remote to him as Hueningkai jumps onto Yeonjun’s back. “This is justice for saying no to Infinity War!” Hueningkai yells as Yeonjun topples over from the maknae’s weight. Yeonjun struggles under him before giving up, glancing up at an amused Soobin.
“Soobin, why don’t you be the one to decide? We don’t want you to watch something you might not be interested in seeing,” Yeonjun remarks tentatively, watching for his reaction as Hueningkai finally gets off of him.
“I have an idea: why don’t we watch a web-drama? I know Bomin recently starred in A-TEEN 2 and all the episodes in the season combined would probably equal up to a movie, if not less,” the leader reasons and the other two look at each other before shrugging and plopping down on either side of him. Soobin bounces from the force of them sitting down on the sofa and the sudden jostling makes him wince– his muscles definitely did not approve.
“Who’s Bomin?” Hueningkai asks and before Soobin responds, Yeonjun is already one step ahead of him. “He was the MC before Soobin, remember? He’s the youngest member of Golden Child,” Yeonjun glances at Soobin for confirmation and the younger nods.
“Sounds good to me.”
“Whatever makes you happy, hyung.”
“Yeah, you’re right. He actually helped me a lot with learning the ropes of being an MC, I definitely owe him. We became good friends and we’re the same age too, so,” Soobin shrugs before realizing that was a very bad idea because his muscles are still incredibly stiff and sore. He grimaces and doesn’t notice Yeonjun catch his expression.
As Soobin begins pulling up the drama, Yeonjun signals to Hueningkai to cuddle with Soobin who does so in a heartbeat. Soobin doesn’t even notice, too preoccupied with what’s on the screen as Kai rushes to his room to grab his plushies and a blanket to envelop themselves with.
Yeonjun heads to the kitchen to help the still-fighting-but-also-giggling couple in bringing dinner out to the living room. He figures them all being around each other would be the best way to end the day and hopefully release some of the stressful burdens he knows Soobin shoulders.
Hueningkai snatches Soobin’s favorite pillow from the elder’s room and places it behind him. He then gets to work on placing his enormous collection of plushies anywhere there’s space. Soobin huffs out an affectionate laugh as the maknae puts his utmost focus into making sure everything is perfect before wrapping the two of them in a soft blanket. He attaches himself to Soobin’s side for what will probably be the remainder of the evening.
“Binnie-hyung?” Hueningkai speaks softly and Soobin nods to him to continue. The youngest fidgets with his fingers, not sure how to continue.
Soobin places his hands over the maknae’s and waits patiently as Hueningkai attempts to gather his thoughts.
Hueningkai sighs, deciding to simply go for it. “I-I know these past few weeks have probably been really stressful for you. I mean becoming an MC, being our leader, promotions, helping us with homework even though you hate math, cooking us dinner… I just wanted you to know that we really appreciate it and it’s okay with us if you ever need a break,” Hueningkai murmurs, looking down at the Molang plushie he’s now holding in his hands. “We’re always here for you hyung. Y-you don’t have to do everything alone. We’re a team, right?
Soobin gently brushes back his dongsaeng’s hair as he speaks and the elder feels like he’s about to spontaneously combust from Hueningkai’s words, heart brimming with fond love for their youngest member. “That’s right, we’re a team Hyuka– for now and forever. How about I make a promise to you? I’ll do my best to not overwork and I’ll come and ask if I think I need some help. Sound good?” Soobin holds out a pinky to seal the promise and Hueningkai enthusiastically accepts, wrapping his own pinky around Soobin’s to secure their pact.
“And I promise on behalf of everyone else that we’ll do our best to support you no matter what and help you in any way possible. I know we don’t always express it, but we love and admire you a lot, hyung. Thank you for everything you do for us,” Hueningkai says with a shy smile and Soobin grins, dimples on full display.
“Aigoo, our maknae is the absolute cutest! I love you all just as much, thank you for always being there for me. Now come here, give me a hug,” Soobin pulls Hueningkai back towards him, dutifully ignoring the soreness of his back. No amount of pain would ever measure up to the love he has for his best friends. He smothers the youngest in a tight hug, one which Hueningkai seems to happily reciprocate.
The other three come back out from the kitchen, precariously balancing all the dishes in their hands as they place them down on the coffee table.
“Ah, our GUMS are back at it again!” Beomgyu jokes and the rest of them laugh as Hueningkai presses himself ever closer to Soobin who willingly lets him in.
They all settle down, blankets and plushies building an alcove of comfort as the five of them munch on their homemade dinner, the soft atmosphere occasionally being punctuated by some comment or the other (usually from Taehyun because of course he could never resist).
They stay like that for the rest of the night, the boys cuddled together and staring at the screen in earnest as they wait in anticipation to see what happens next. Hueningkai is now practically half way into Soobin’s lap and Soobin leans against Yeonjun who’s placed an arm around him, pulling Soobin flush against his chest. Beomgyu and Taehyun are huddled together on the floor, Beomgyu resting his head on Taehyun’s shoulder as the younger wraps a blanket around their bodies.
Soon enough, their binge-watching of the entire web-drama ends and they shake themselves out of their stupor, animatedly discussing the ending of the series as they begin cleaning up the now extremely messy living room. Soobin starts grabbing their plates to go and wash them, but Taehyun pulls them out of his hands.
Surprised, he looks up at Taehyun to once again voice his protest, but Beomgyu gently butts in before he has a chance to speak his thoughts. “It’s okay hyung, we can do it tonight. You must be tired from all the work you’ve been doing,” Beomgyu offers him a lopsided smile and Soobin just nods, opting to sit down on the couch and back into his boyfriend’s waiting arms. Usually, everyone would just play rock, paper, scissors and loser had to wash the dishes, but it seems as though Taehyun and Beomgyu have it covered.
They’re acting their age, he realizes in a slight panic and quickly stands up, eliciting a whine from Yeonjun. “I’ll be right back, I promise,” Soobin reassures and leaves the other two in the living room to help clean up Hueningkai’s vast mountain of adorable plushies.
“Hey guys?” Soobin enters the kitchen to find Beomgyu and Taehyun washing the dishes meticulously and they both look up at him at the same time, wide-eyed. If this were any other situation, Soobin would laugh, but as of now, all he could feel was a coil of discomfort tightening in his stomach.
He lets out a breath, leaning against the wall as he takes a moment to gather his thoughts. “I just wanted to apologize for earlier today. Both in the vocal room and in the car. I shouldn’t have told you to act your age or just to shut up like that; it was way out of line and not cool for me to do that. I know you both know how to act appropriately when needed and I guess I was just frustrated, but that’s not an excuse for how I acted. I’m really sorry,” Soobin finishes, casting a worried glance from one face to another.
Beomgyu smiles as Taehyun speaks up. “It’s okay, Soobin-hyung. Honestly, we already forgot about it. Don’t worry too much, alright?” Taehyun didn’t have to say much for Soobin to grasp the underlying message and the elder smiles at them gratefully before leaving, the burden on his shoulders lighter.
He returns to the living room to find Yeonjun sitting alone and scrolling through his phone.
“Hyuka went to sleep early. Said he has an important test tomorrow at school,” Yeonjun answers Soobin’s question before it even exits his mouth and he smiles yet again at how well the eldest knows him.
Soobin settles back against Yeonjun and his boyfriend wraps his arms around his waist to pull Soobin closer to him. “You doing okay Binnie?” Yeonjun murmurs into his fairy-blue hair and the younger sighs, hands coming up to intertwine Yeonjun’s hands with his own.
“Do you want the really truthful answer or the watered down answer?”
Yeonjun frowns and takes their intertwined hands up to his pouty mouth, gently pressing a soft kiss to it. “Lay it all out for me, baby,” He answers instead, inviting Soobin to just speak his mind.
Soobin pauses before nodding, following Yeonjun’s instruction. “I… okay first, please don’t laugh at me, I know I’m going to sound kind of dumb,” he mutters and Yeonjun huffs out a fond laugh before dropping a kiss onto Soobin’s head.
“I solemnly swear to not laugh,” he says dramatically and Soobin cracks a small smile at his playful antics.
He takes a deep breath and begins to speak. “When I woke up this morning, my neck was really sore. And extremely stiff. It’s been hurting like crazy and last time I felt pain like this was back during our trainee period because my body wasn’t used to all the exercise,” Soobin blinks back tears as Yeonjun untangles their hands to start pressing Soobin’s shoulders, silently urging him to continue.
“As the day went on, the pain spread from my neck to my shoulders and then down my back. That’s… that’s why I collapsed during practice today. Your foot had accidentally rolled straight into the muscle that was hurting the most and I wasn’t expecting it, so I fell from the pain. And as more time passed, I just kept getting more and more frustrated because I was so stiff but everything hurt so much hyung, and–” Soobin abruptly stops, afraid that the water welling up in his eyes was about to spill. Yeonjun comfortingly starts rubbing his muscles, gently massaging the tight knots to relieve the tension wound up in them.
“And that’s why I just snapped in the car today. I didn’t mean to, but it all became so much and I was just so tired. Tired from promotions, from practice, from this stupid stupid pain–” Yeonjun cuts him off, pressing his lips to Soobin’s in an effort to calm him down. Soobin lets him.
When they break apart, Soobin continues, feeling a bit better. “I know it’s dumb to be so annoyed because it’s just some pain and it shouldn’t be stopping me, but I just… I’m just really tired Jjuni. Really really tired, and I kind of want a break. But I can’t. I can’t take a break because there’s almost so much to do, so much to improve on, and I don’t want to be the one slowing us all down because I can’t handle a little bit of hurt,” he ends on a whisper, and Yeonjun stays silent, processing the information before responding. Soobin feels like he can breathe again after finally getting his swirling thoughts out of his mind.
“Bin, it’s not dumb or stupid. You have responsibilities, more so as our leader, and you take them seriously. I see how you always put your best effort into everything you do, and I admire you for it because I know that I don’t think I would be able to handle the same pressure. I don’t think any of us could. Nonetheless, it’s not healthy for you to bottle all your worries and stress up inside of you because then you’ll just explode, like what happened in the car,” Yeonjun chooses his words carefully as he continues to work on the knots in Soobin’s muscles, slowly but surely unraveling them.
“As for your pain, Soobinnie, you could’ve told us. I promise you’re not slowing anyone down. Breaks are sometimes needed and our bodies have a limit. Today, you hit yours, and that’s perfectly okay. It’s alright to just take a day off and have a breather, especially if your body is in so much pain,” Yeonjun advises, reaching over to kiss Soobin’s cheek. “If you had gotten seriously hurt, I don’t know what I would’ve done. We got off lucky today,” Yeonjun murmurs and Soobin hums in understanding.
Yeonjun sighs, caging Soobin in his arms and snuggling in next to him. “Take time for yourself Soobin. We’re always going to be here with you and you can always always count on us. Every member’s health takes priority every single time, and you’re a member of our group. Remember that,” he finishes and Soobin turns around to hug him tightly.
The elder coos softly and hugs him back. “Thanks hyung. I love you a lot,” Soobin mumbles, voice muffled, and Yeonjun laughs. “Anytime, baby, anytime. I love you too. Now, I have an idea to help relieve some of your pain, do you wanna try it?” Soobin nods into his shirt and Yeonjun separates from the hug.
“Hang on, I’ll be right back Binnie.”
Yeonjun walks away to find whatever he thought could help his boyfriend and Soobin sighs into the couch, mulling over his words. He’s right. If it were him, or anyone else for that matter, I would’ve been just as worried, Soobin realizes. Sometimes, it’s better to get out of your head and just ask for some help. Help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it, his brain helpfully supplies and Soobin laughs. Professor Dumbledore really hit it on the head with that one.
“Found it! I brought a heating pad and the cold ice packs,” Yeonjun holds up the two things proudly and Soobin stares at him, confused. “Those are two very opposite things, hyung. How are they supposed to help?”
Yeonjun grins as he sits down and plugs the heating pad in. “This is what I call the hot ‘n cold treatment. Basically, you apply heat to the affected area for ten minutes and then immediately switch to applying something really cold to the same place. This forces the muscles to expand and contract, and that in turn actually loosens the muscles and can make a lot of the soreness and stiffness go away,” Yeonjun explains with a beaming smile as he places the heating pad on Soobin's shoulders.
After doing so, the elder immediately goes back to his original position of cuddling Soobin from behind and caging him in a backhug. “Don’t worry Soobin, I got you.”
Soobin smiles and leans up to kiss him as a gesture of thanks, something Yeonjun happily accepts. They snuggle together for the rest of the evening, talking the night away until eventually Soobin is about to fall asleep in his boyfriend’s arms.
“Okay Soobin, come on. Let’s get you to your bed otherwise your neck is going to hurt way more tomorrow morning than it did today,” Yeonjun says, grunting as he attempts to pull his extremely tall boyfriend up and drag him to his room. Soobin refuses to budge and Yeonjun sighs, looking around for something to help him. He lights up when he finds what he’s looking for and shoves it into Soobin’s arms. Soobin begrudgingly stands up and they stumble tiredly to his room together.
“Love you, Bin,” Yeonjun murmurs after pulling the covers over him. He presses a soft kiss to Soobin’s head before turning off the lights and closing the door.
Soobin smiles drowsily at Hueningkai’s forgotten plushie nestled in his arms and falls asleep to the lingering scent of tteokbokki.
fin.
a/n: --> about the fic!
- i pretty much feverishly wrote this fic after not writing ff in 2 years, so please do let me know if you enjoyed it (or not), i would really appreciate any and all feedback! ^_^
- the pain soobin goes through has actually happened to me, so everything he feels comes straight from my own experience. the advice yeonjun gives him at the end using the heating pad and freezer pack genuinely does work, and it was the remedy that really helped relieve my pain and lessened the stiffness and soreness. if you're going through intense sore/stiff muscle pain, i highly recommend it!!
- this fic actually started out to solely be a yeonbin sickfic, but as i began writing, i realized bringing in all of the members would enhance the fic and make probably make it a lot better. i did my best to stick to txt's dynamic as well as each individual member, but this is a work of fiction and purely based off of my own thoughts. it is no way affiliated with txt or its members!
- the title is from one of my favorite hindi songs, agar tum saath ho. it roughly translates to "if you are with me." i've linked a video with english translations in case you would like to take a listen! but my inspiration was just old hindi songs that i grew up listening to lol
- lastly, a BIG thank you to my best friend for being my beta, helping this fic come to fruition, and for being my motivation in writing this. it really means a lot to me. if you would like to check out her work, click mjin_yun!
#choi soobin#choi yeonjun#choi beomgyu#kang taehyun#hueningkai#txt#sickfic#soft#light angst#angst with a happy ending#comfort#soobin needs a break and a hug#tomorrow x together#tomorrow by together#ilovetheseboys
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Hey you, what’s your dream?
Pairing: platonic!oc x ot7
Details: manager!oc, predebut/idolverse, partial BTS World!verse
Summary: Yoongi, Hoseok, and Aviva take a breather together.
Warnings: This is a fictional story based on real events. The characters presented here are not the same as their real life counterparts.
[Masterlist]
Interlude 5: Sunshine and Coffee
Best Part - Daniel Caesar, H.E.R
“You’re the coffee that I need in the morning
You’re my sunshine in the rain when it’s pouring”
March 8th 2013
“Hey, Hobi… Yoongi-oppa,” Aviva said, looking up from where she was sitting at the kitchen counter working on her laptop. Sunlight streamed in through the window, outlining her in a glow.
Yoongi squinted.
“What’re you doing here so early?”
“Soonyoungie came home early this morning with, um, a guest, so I thought I’d give them some privacy,” she explained.
“Ah.” Hoseok nodded. “One good thing about living in that teeny dorm with so many other boys for the past three years was that we didn’t really have room to bring anybody back with us.” He tilted his head. “I mean, in some ways, not great, but I usually prefer going to someone else’s house anyway.”
“I don’t care,” Yoongi said, yawning.
“Coffee’s up,” Aviva told him.
“…Please move in with us,” Yoongi said, gazing at her imploringly.
“Hmm. No,” she said flatly. Hoseok laughed as Yoongi sighed and went to pour himself a cup. “Have you guys been to sleep yet?”
“Couple of hours,” Yoongi muttered.
“He fell asleep on the couch,” Hoseok told her. Yoongi glared. “I came in there this morning to film a vlog and woke him accidentally.” He squeezed Yoongi in a hug. “Sorry!” Yoongi grumbled, patting his arm absentmindedly. “Can you believe it’s already March, Avi-yah?” She shook her head. “The cherry blossoms will be blooming soon—me and Yoongi were saying we should go, want to come with us?”
“There’s, um, a festival, right?” She thought. They nodded. She smiled. “Sounds fun.”
Yoongi’s birthday- March 9th 2013
The day of Yoongi’s birthday, the boys had an idea to surprise him with a cake. “Does he like surprises?” Aviva wondered, as she and Jin baked in her kitchen. Jin hummed.
“You know… I don’t know…”
Aviva frowned. “I don’t feel comfortable surprising somebody if I don’t know if they like surprises or not—what if it upsets him?”
“I’m pretty sure he could handle it,” Jin thought. “Yoongi-yah is a tough guy.”
“Yes, but he’s also adorably squishy,” Aviva thought.
Jin nodded. “The duality of man.”
Aviva squinted at him. “Has Kookie been sending you memes again?”
“…Maybe?” Jin licked some batter off of his finger.
“Hmm. Wash your hands before you touch anything.”
“I know, I know.” He went over to the sink.
Aviva leaned against her kitchen table, her brow furrowed. “I’m going to warn him.” She pulled out her phone.
“Eh, wait, Viva-yah!” He rushed over to her, squishing her face with his wet hands. “You’ll ruin the surprise!”
“Too bad,” she said, her voice muffled as she quickly texted him. “Hmmm.”
“What?”
She swatted him off of her. “He said he’s okay with surprises, but he appreciates the warning. He’ll pretend to be surprised so the kids won’t be disappointed—and he wants me to suggest interrupting him in the studio, because he thinks it’d make for a good log.”
Jin’s lips pursed. “I don’t know how you’ll convince them of that—the only one who isn’t terrified to interrupt Yoongi-yah in the Bangtan Room is Namjoon-ah.” He paused. “And you, of course.”
“You told him, didn’t you?” Namjoon said, as they washed the dishes at the dorm together later that night. Aviva smiled sheepishly. Namjoon pouted. “Why?”
“I didn’t want to freak him out if he was the kind of person who didn’t like surprises.”
“Huh. Cause you’re that kind of person?” Namjoon reasoned. She blinked at him. “Viva, I’ve seen you jump ten feet in the air when something is even a little bit surprising—honesty, I’m worried about Tae giving you a heart attack one of these days with his surprise hugs.” She frowned.
“I’m not an old lady.”
“No,” he agreed. “You’re definitely not. You’re… beautiful.”
She gave him an odd look.
“I wouldn’t be beautiful as an old lady?”
He groaned. “Just take the compliment!”
“No.”
“Fine!” He grunted. “But we’re getting off topic, the point is, I worry about you sometimes.”
Aviva reached over and patted his hand.
“Thanks for worrying, Joonie, but I’ll be okay. There will always be surprises in life, whether they’re good or bad ones. I’ll just have to do my best to deal with them.”
“I know you will,” he said, intertwining his fingers with hers so they were holding hands. “You’re strong. But that doesn’t mean you have to do it alone. I’m here if you ever need support.” She smiled.
“Right back at you.” She put the last dish in the drying rack. “Anyway, I like Tae’s hugs.” Namjoon groaned.
“Yeah, don’t tell him that, or he’ll never let go of you!”
March 20th 2013
Yoongi woke up, disoriented after an afternoon nap, and went into the kitchen to make some coffee.
He found Aviva standing at the sink, singing to herself quietly as she did the dishes.
“I’m coming home, I’m coming home, tell the world I’m coming home…”
“I like that song,” Yoongi said. She froze.
“Ah. Oppa.” She turned to him, her cheeks pink. “I, um, didn’t know you were awake.”
“So you snuck into the dorm to do our dishes while no one was watching?” He wondered.
“Ah, no, actually, I came check on you.”
He raised an eyebrow at her. “I told you it was just a headache. I feel better already.”
“I’m glad.”
“But what does that have to do with this…?” He motioned at the dishes.
“Ah, well, I saw you were sleeping, and I didn’t want to wake you, and I know you guys have been very busy with the album recently, so I thought I’d lend a hand.”
“You like Diddy?” He wondered.
“Um, I haven’t really listened to much of his stuff,” she admitted. “But I’ve been a fan of Skylar Grey since she was Holly Brook. Did you know she’s been singing professionally since she was a child?”
He looked at her, smiling slightly, and shaking his head.
“She does background vocals and has a writing credit on that, right? I looked it up.”
“Yeah. Her vocals are great, but her lyrics are what really get to me… they’re very… I don’t know, poetic?” She smiled. “It was especially nice to listen to as an angsty teenager. I’ll send you some of it, if you’d like?”
“Sure.” He looked at her, and then sighed. “Let me give you a hand. I’ll dry.”
“Hmmm. Okay.” She continued washing dishes and then handed them to him. He dried and put them in the drying cabinet, frowning at the wall. “Something on your mind?”
“I’m just… a bit homesick, I think. I used to be really excited to move out—I had dreams of owning a big house, and a fancy car… you know, all that. But recently I’ve kind of just been missing my childhood home, and my parents.” He looked at her. “That must’ve been a big change for you, moving to a whole different country… how do you deal with it?”
“Hmmm.” She gave him the last dish and then leaned against the counter, frowning at her feet as he dried it. “I don’t know. I guess… I cried a lot when I first moved here. But, I didn’t even have a lot of money for long distance calls, and Soonie and me didn’t have internet for ages, and… I was busy, I didn’t have too much time to think about it, I guess.”
“Your mind finds the time.”
“Yeah,” she acknowledged quietly.
“Do you want coffee?” He offered. “I was going to make some.” She nodded. He moved over and started prepping the coffee as she got two mugs out of the cabinet. “What about these days? Has it gotten any easier?”
She nodded again. “Because I’ve gotten better, and more invested in my job, and also…” She smiled. “Well, I have you guys. That’s helped a lot, I think.”
April 21st 2013
Aviva looked up, surprised to see Yoongi dragging Hoseok into her office on an early Sunday evening. She bit her lip.
“Is somebody injured again?”
“What?” Yoongi blinked. “No.” He frowned. “Why would you think that?”
“Who was I called to pick up from Lotte World because there was an egg growing out of his head after he smacked it on a bar?” She said, shooting him a look. Yoongi shrugged. She turned to Hoseok. “And I have an entire box of band-aids and pain patches in my first aid kit reserved just for you, dance boy.” Hoseok laughed nervously. “Besides, you two are usually glued to your work at this point. What’s up?”
“We’ve got a couple of hours of sunlight left, we’re taking off of work early and going to the cherry blossom festival.”
“We are?” Hoseok asked, eyes widening. Yoongi nodded.
“If you still want to.”
“Yes!” Hoseok grinned, pulling him into a hug. Yoongi laughed. Then they both looked at Aviva.
She chewed her lip again.
“What about work?”
“Chief Youngjin already approved it,” Yoongi told her.
She blinked. “How?”
“He likes me better than he likes you.”
“That… checks out, actually.” She laughed. “Okay, let’s go.”
Aviva and Yoongi both brought their cameras.
Hoseok teased them for looking like tourists.
“You’re the one posing for us every three seconds,” Yoongi grumbled.
“If you’re going to be rude, I won’t show you any of my pictures,” Aviva said.
“What? No! I want to see.” Hoseok reached over, but Aviva moved behind Yoongi, hiding her camera between them. “Yah! That’s not fair!” He whined. “I want to see what I look like in your pictures!” She peeked out from behind Yoongi, sticking her tongue out at Hoseok.
Yoongi turned around so that he and Aviva were facing each other, standing almost toe to toe.
“Can I see?”
“Sure.”
He reached down and clicked though them. Hoseok pouted.
“These are good,” Yoongi told her. She smiled at him. “Let’s keep walking while we’ve still got daylight.”
Hoseok noticed Aviva stiffening up as the crowd around them thickened. He leaned over, whispering in her ear.
“Okay if I hold your hand?”
She looked at him, wide-eyed, and then nodded.
He took her hand, humming softly as they walked. Yoongi glanced over at them, smiled, and then snapped a photo of them.
As they walked among the various food stalls, Aviva kept stopping and looking at everything.
“Ah, that looks good,” Aviva said, looking at one stall. “Ah, but that looks good too…” Her brow furrowed.
“Get both,” Yoongi said.
“Yeah, but that’s a lot of food. I’d feel bad about wasting it if I couldn’t finish…”
“Let’s share,” he suggested. “I’ll pay half.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I want to.”
“We can split three things three ways,” Hoseok said. “That way we can eat even more for even less money per person!” Aviva chewed at her lip, and then nodded slowly.
“Okay.”
“It looks like it might rain,” Yoongi said, shortly after they finished eating. Aviva caught a shot of him staring up at the sky, a pink petal standing out against his dark hair.
“Isn’t it just getting to be nighttime?” Hoseok thought.
Yoongi shook his head. “Still too early.”
A minute later rain pelted down. The crowds thinned, many of the food vendors quickly packing up to leave. Yoongi shoved his camera case under his hoodie, cursing.
“Here.” Aviva grabbed his hand and pulled him underneath an awning.
“Where did…?” Yoongi rolled his eyes, a smile spreading over his face as he watched Hoseok laugh, dancing around in the rain. He cupped his hands around his mouth. “Come here before you catch a cold, pabo!”
“I’ll get him,” Aviva said, handing Yoongi her camera. Before he could say a word, she ran out into the rain. Hoseok spun her around. They were both laughing, until she pulled him back towards Yoongi.
“It’s so weird,” Hoseok said, still laughing as they huddled under the awning. “It’s pouring but it’s still sunny too.”
“Sun shower,” Aviva murmured. “It’ll probably stop in a minute.”
#bts#fanfiction#min yoongi#jung hoseok#manager!oc#bts predebut#bts x oc#yoongi x oc#hoseok x oc#bts fanfiction
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𝗆𝗈𝗈𝗇𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 ☽ jeongguk
𝗆𝗈𝗈𝗇𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍
jeon jeongguk / reader
genre: boyfriend/band-geek au, fluff
words: 3455
I never knew you could hold moonlight in your hands.
a/n: i luv this song and this is soft. also i rlly cant stop writing guk fics so i guess im a guk fic writer now
warnings: fluff, clichés i love, it’s like glee if u squint and think about it hard enough, fresh new awkward relationships, raise ur hand if you’ve watched whip it (san marcos high school, i know nothing about you besides the fact i wrote this story listening to caricakes on youtube talking about how she went to this school)
Falling in love was a scary thing.
With people, that means. There was something about love when attached to another person that was unbelievably unnerving, and it had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that your parents were divorced and at least one person in your family had been cheated on, thank you very much! The pressure of ultimate commitment and trust was something you just couldn’t wrap your head around; what if you gave all of that love to somebody who’d throw it all away overnight?
When people told you that you only thought that way because you were young, barely fourteen and watching your friends get into those week-long romantic relationships over fruit loops and milk cartons at break time, you insisted that no, you knew best. You knew what love was like. Love was the way your parents had fought most of your childhood, screamed, cussed, broke some things. Love was finding out the person you gave everything to suddenly didn’t want it anymore.
Eventually, you grew up and realised that life was better and happier now that your mother had moved across the country with somebody else, and your Dad was finding love in his new job and learning how to play the guitar. Life was no longer a slash horror film, but instead the colourful opening of a Disney movie, the birds singing- and hey, maybe love wasn’t so bad. Love wasn’t just what you experienced with a partner, you discovered as you transferred to high school and found that something in your chest hurt when you joined band and made some of the best friendships you had ever had. Love was open and opportunable, unpredictable and beyond kisses and hugs and hearts floating around your temples.
Love was the way you heard piano keys, or the sound of Taehyung and Seunghee laughing as you entered the band-rooms during every free period you could possibly find. Love was the guitar strings between Seunghee’s fingers, and the evenings around the campfire behind your house with the aforementioned duo and your father and his older stringed instrument, corny songs shared over the tamed embers. Aged seventeen, now, and still in love with music and the people in your life in the San Marcos High School Band Club, you didn’t think you’d be able to share that love with anything- or anybody- else. Until you met Jeongguk.
A key member of the school’s baseball team and a surprisingly excellent singer, Jeongguk was the type of person you saw in movies, the type of student everybody loved but didn’t touch. That had intimidated and confused you, when he strode into band club on a Tuesday evening after-school and spoke with the lead teacher Mrs Honey, who announced that Jeongguk and a small handful of other, daresay “jocks”, would be joining the club for extra credit. You had stood there, appalled, in your shirt decorated in tiny crescent moons, afraid of the love you had for this club being destroyed by a bunch of sport-happy popular kids.
That was an incorrect judgement that you came to regret; Jimin was an angel dressed as a devil, with a love for the sound of flutes and clarinets and apparently, a new close friend of both Seunghee and Taehyung, respective woodwind players. And then there was the situation of Jeon Jeongguk, who caught your eye across the room a few days later, standing behind the group of new friends with an air of awkward discomfort- he had smiled softly, his eyes drooping with a gentle gaze and he had asked for your name and your instrument.
The first time your heart fluttered for something other than music, it was when Jeongguk called out to you as he left to go home and smiled around the words, “Catch you later, moony.”
Two months later, and Seunghee, Taehyung and Jimin had banded together to form an interesting trio, inseparable save the baseball field where Jimin spent Monday, Thursday and Saturday evenings. It genuinely hadn’t bothered you the way you had expected it to, not when Jeongguk was there to fill the space vacant once they had left. It was still intimidating to know him, be his friend, be the weirdo he hung around with sometimes both inside band club and out.
At first, you hadn’t expected it to last- he was only here for extra credit, and it wasn’t like he actually cared about the club or you, and the way he stared at you with a soft fondness when you talked about your Dad and what you did the night prior was definitely part of your imagination, right? To your absolute surprise and honestly, relief, you had returned to band after a short break from school, expecting to find that those same jocks had now left but instead they were still there, waiting for the rest, part of the club with pride. And, there was Jeongguk again, with that smile that made your stomach do funny things.
Over here, Moony, he had said, patting the seat beside him. Once seated, he had shifted to stare at you and grinned softly, pulling a little strand of hair from your face and tucking it behind your ear. It’s okay, he said, you’re allowed to be surprised to see me. You’re too cute when you’re trying to pretend like you don’t care. I like your hair, by the way.
So, yeah. It was no surprise that one month after that date, Jeongguk had pushed himself up against your locker at the end of the day and smiled at you, saying something you had both dreaded and dreamed of: “Do you wanna go out sometime?”
Love was still scary, even two months into your relationship with Jeongguk. He was unlike anything and anybody you had ever met before; when you arrived at school everyday, he was always with his usual group of popular friends, girls with expensive hairdos and painted nails and guys with nice cars and bodies. But as soon as he spotted you hopping out of your Dad’s car, his eyes would light up and he’d pull himself away from his friends, bounding to you within seconds of you standing on your own two feet next to your Dad’s pulled up car.
He’d smile and press little kisses to your hair and the side of your face, holding you from behind, looking up to say good morning to your Dad, who, as he pulled away heading for work, couldn’t be happier at the revelation that you were happy, and that love now didn’t mean what it had before. It was more than arguments and anger. Love was Jeongguk and music and your friends with more Jeongguk on the side.
Sure, people would question why he’d pick you over everyone else, because truth be told, there was nothing special about you, or at least not to them. But to Jeongguk, you were the girl who talked about music like a lover, and treated the world kindly and fairly. To him, you were everything, and more.
“I can’t believe you’ve never seen Whip It before.”
Presently, Jeongguk sits on your bed pushed against the wall with an adoring smile on his face, a laugh leaving his mouth as you hastily pop open the DVD case and thrust it into the player.
“I haven’t seen a lot of movies,” Jeongguk replies, leaning back to find comfort underneath your blankets.
It was a Friday evening, the sky outside bleeding out into vibrant pinks and deep purples, like bruises, nighttime approaching. Today would be the first time Jeongguk has ever been allowed to stay around your house overnight; your Dad liked Jeongguk, and thought he was what you needed and deserved, but he’s still a Dad, and he was hesitant. Eventually, after growing bored of the begging and hints, he just said yes to keep you quiet, sternly telling you that any ‘funny business’ would be heard through the walls and so, please, don’t do that. You didn’t think you were quite there yet with Jeongguk, and he had never shown an interest in it. Sure, Jeongguk would get touchy, risking a hand on your thigh or playfully holding your butt in a Sixteen Candles-esque fashion, and when you came to see him at games, his friends would definitely allude to it with sexual whimpers that were supposed to be you.
“Well, that will change!” you announce with glee, jumping back next to him.
He doesn’t even wince when you accidentally kneel on his hand, instead he just moves his arm to wrap around you as you get comfortable next to him. Under the covers, he feels your toes brush against his legs and in his face, the marshmallow smell of your shampoo. Jeongguk smiles to himself and presses his face into your hair and kisses your forehead afterwards, a cheek squished against the top of your head. In one hand, he holds the remote and in the other, strands of your hair you let him twirl around his fingers as he watches.
“You will love this movie.”
He smiles wider: “Oh, yeah?”
“Mhm. It’s cool,” you nod against his side. “You know, actually, the feeling- you know the feeling you get watching a movie, when it’s so good and it makes you feel all funny and sentimental? It actually...it actually kinda reminds me of you.”
“What, really?” Jeongguk asks, sounding flattered and surprised. You shift up to look at him and he grins widely, quickly leaning to kiss you. “You’re so cute, baby. I’m sure I will love this movie.”
As the movie opening rolled onto the screen, Jeongguk sat still to allow you time and space to wriggle into his body, getting comfortable around limbs and the soft wool of his jumper that you had worn a couple of times.
This concept isn’t entirely foreign; he’s watched at least thirty movies with you since your first “date”, which had consisted of a cinema date due to his uncharacteristic nerves to talk to you. A tradition born from A Star is Born, which, actually, Jeongguk thought would be a happy movie, thanks, not the monstrosity that made you both cry in the cinema lobby, through laughter and a sweet hug on the sofas waiting for your Dad to pick you both up.
Jeongguk knows this movie- he hasn’t seen it, but he knows it; he knows Ellen Page is part of a roller-derby club and he also knows that you know it word-for-word, a content smile spreading over your lips as it begins to kick in. That’s one thing he loves about watching movies with you. Not the movie, but the way you’re enchanted by them- a smile for ones you love, a scowl for ones you end up hating, tears pooling in your eyes at ones that are funny or so bad that they become funny.
He doesn’t know how long he’s looking at you and not the movie, because when he looks at you, time stops. In your hair, his finger gets lost in the strands and eventually unloops itself, his hand stroking instead before falling to your shoulder, his fingers ghosting down your arms and body up and down, absently as he pretends to watch the movie when you glance at him from the corner of your eye.
Like clockwork, he does this, living life in gasps as he looks at you and then back at the screen. As he sighs softly, Jeongguk pauses as you sit yourself up and look back at him, a frown on your face. He sobers, looking at you with concern: “What’s up, baby?”
“Are you watching the movie?” you ask quietly. “If it’s boring, just tell me.”
“It’s not boring,” he promises shaking his head. “I’m watching it.”
“Doesn’t look like you’re watching it.”
He smiles, “Well, right now, neither are you. I am watching, I swear. Look- Ellen Page is in a roller derby club.”
Actually amused, you laugh. “You were absolutely not watching.”
“I was.”
“She hasn’t joined the club yet,” you point out. When he stays silent, you look at him with a half-triumphant and half-amused smile. “You’re such a bad liar.”
“Okay, it’s not boring,” Jeongguk says honestly. “I just-ugh, you’re so cute. I love all of your reactions- I can’t stop looking at you.”
With some reluctance you sink back down next to him, looking at him through your eyelashes: “really?”
“Baby, yes,” he laughs. Jeongguk pulls you closer with the arm you lay back down on, his other free and brushing bits of your hair off your face before holding the side of it gently, a thumb on your cheekbone. “You’re so pretty. Makes me sick.”
“I really wanted you to watch this movie…”
“M’sorry,” he mutters through pouted lips. Somehow, somewhere, Jeongguk has moved forward with his nose brushing against yours. He sighs through his nose and it tickles, “just like looking at you.”
Jimmy Fallon announces the Holy Rollers as Jeongguk guides your lips towards his, the grand entree of the rival team missed and unnoticed and surprisingly, you don’t care. He has his hands in your hair and his head in your hands, and as he deepens the kiss you wrap your arms around his body, trying to get closer when there was no way to get closer. For a moment, the sound of the TV falls silent and all Jeongguk can focus on is you, the only thing that ever matters to him.
Jeongguk pulls away briefly, catching his breath and helping pull you up to a sitting position, level to himself. The movie continues to play, the pictures like a silent movie as Jeongguk returns to kissing you, not even feeling guilty about interrupting a movie date with the impromptu make-out session. Quite frankly, it’s not as if you seem to care; you cling to him, desperate, his body flush against your own.
What Jeongguk doesn’t say with words is more than conveyed through his movements. He is the perfect mixture between gentle and pleading, his touches like the tickle of feathers. If you were to open your eyes, you’d find his closed, eyelashes on his cheekbones. Jeongguk shifts himself, rising so that he is taller in comparison as he tilts your head upwards, lips still on his own. It’s hard to breathe in the feeling of Jeongguk’s lips moving roughly across your own, his hands cradling your face around your jaw, thumbs smoothing crescent moons into your skin.
Jeongguk’s lips move away. His hands run from your face to your shoulders, making you shudder like a draught entered the room when he drags them down to your wrists, detaching to hold your waist. Your heart speeds up suddenly-is this going to take a turn?
As his hands slightly lock around you, you pry open one eye, looking at him. His eyes are still closed, lost in orbit, and his lips are puckered and large, shiny, wet. Something alien festers inside of your stomach, churning painfully, like tiny kisses on the inside, ticklish. You trust Jeongguk, with everything, and so you inhale through your nose and close your eyes once again, clutching at his face with your hands as he presses his lips tighter, begging for more.
Jeongguk’s left hand slips, brushing against your thigh and you wince with happy surprise, having not expected it. Jeongguk laughs slightly, amused and with adoration, his lips now on the curve of your neck. Finally, like release, you limpen and let your body fall back onto the bed, your head missing the headboard by a few centimeters and now, Jeongguk is above you. Right before your first sign of arousal can be ripped from your throat by Jeongguk’s lips ghosting over what you think could be a sensitive spot, Jeongguk shifts away. He leans over you still, but he’s not moving, breathing heavily.
Confused, torn on whether or not to be concerned, you open your eyes and look at him, seeing with surprise that his gaze is on you, anyway. He smiles when you open your eyes, cocking his head to the side boyishly and with one hand holding up his weight, he uses the other to brush some hair out of your face. Jeongguk kisses your forehead. Then he moves away.
For a moment, you’re not sure what to do.
You lie there, like a slice of ham. Jeongguk is normal, pushing himself back onto his ass to sit comfortably on the bed, both of his hands settled on your legs and he sighs, as if content. Pushing yourself up on your elbows, Jeongguk looks over with the shift of the bed and a frown settles on his brows, seeing the expression on your face.
“What’s up, babe?” he asks suddenly.
“I - Nothing,” you insist, not knowing what to say. It feels awkward. You tug at your sleeves. “It’s just.” Nothing.
Jeongguk moves forward slightly. “What happened? Did...did I do something?”
You bite the inside of your lip. “No. I mean, I don’t know - ugh, it’s just…” Jeongguk keeps his eyes on you, round and like bunny rabbits’. You sigh, it’s time to get the baggage out of the closet. “I don’t know, I just thought maybe we were doing something and then we weren’t doing anything and I just feel like...I don’t know. Maybe you don’t want me like that?”
Jeongguk’s brows crease. “Like…? Like, what, you don’t think I want to do anything with you? Like sex?”
By now, you’re embarrassed, like you’re five and the “s” word is still something you’re not allowed to say.
“It’s stupid,” you reply. “Forget it.”
“No, no, no,” Jeongguk protests, shaking his head and engulfing your hands with his own. “Baby...no. Look-” he sighs nervously, smiling. In fact, the exhale sounds shaky, breathless. “I want to. I do! Just, not now.”
Your heart thuds with the pause of silence.
“Trust me, I wanna do everything I can with you, but why rush it?” he shrugs. “You’re everything to me, everything and more. It’ll happen when it happens. Yeah?”
You nod with some reluctance. It makes sense, inside you’re actually buzzing with happiness. “Yeah.”
“Also, your Dad’s home. If we can hear him down there, he can hear us,” adds Jeongguk, followed by an overly dramatic shudder for effect. It works- you smile, a laugh rippling out afterwards and Jeongguk smiles too. “Ah,” he exhales, rubbing your arms now that you’re sitting up in his lap, “silly baby.”
“Shut up,” you mumble. “I was just...insecure, I guess.”
“I get that,” he nods. “Don’t need to be, though. I lo...like you anyway.” He strokes the side of your face, smiling, and then presses a fleeting kiss to your nose. A laugh rumbles in his throat when you scrunch your nose up. “Even when you get insecure, and even when you yell at me in band and when you refuse to sit by me at lunch. I still like you so, so, so much.”
“I don’t yell that much,” you protest weakly.
“I know.” Jeongguk pulls you in for a hug, a kiss planted on top of your head. “You’re the best there is. Love that about you.”
He doesn’t say he loves you. It’s there, unspoken, never said. It’s there, though. There for next time.
(“No funny business?”
Jeongguk holds you tightly to his chest, his legs up and entangled with your limbs as your Dad stands by the door. Half of his body is in and the other is out, a hand on the doorframe. The lights are off except for the string of lights around the room on their dullest setting, the television off with the red light on standby, and to your Dad, everything looks fine.
“No, sir,” Jeongguk replies quietly.
Your Dad takes a second to look between Jeongguk and yourself. If he doesn’t believe Jeongguk he doesn’t make it obvious, something Jeongguk is grateful for considering how unbelievably nervous he is underneath the blankets. You’re asleep on his lap, your face against his chest, and of course, your Dad isn’t about to yell loudly to wake you up. Instead, he accepts the given truth and sighs, smiling.
“Okay, then. You’re a good kid, Jeongguk,” he says, after thinking long and hard about what to say when he climbed the stairs to go to bed. “You’re good for her.”
Jeongguk’s heart leaps, thuddering. “Thank-you. She’s everything.”
“Yeah,” your Dad agrees. “Yeah, she is.”
Nothing is said for a little while and your Dad stills when Jeongguk peers down at you. Something familiar about this scene. Your Dad looks away.
“Goodnight, sport,” your Dad says quietly, pulling the door to as he leaves. He doesn’t hear Jeongguk reply, but he knows he does. That’s just the kind of kid Jeongguk is. He knows.)
#yoonkooknetwork#ggukienet#kwritersworldnet#jungkook scenarios#jungkook fluff#jeongguk x reader#jungkook x reader#jungkook imagine#jungkook#jeon jungkook#jeon jeongguk#jeongguk fluff#jungkook smut#jeongguk smut#jjk#jeongguk scenarios#bts#bangtan#bts scenarios#bts imagine#moonlight#jungkook x you#gwoongi
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Live Like Legends [The Old Guard]
Title: Live Like Legends
Pairing: Gen; background canon pairings
Rating: Teen
Warnings: None
Other Tags: Canon-typical gore, Bathing/washing, Non-sexual intimacy
Summary: After a particularly bloody battle, the team takes care of each other.
Notes: For a prompt on The Old Guard Kinkmeme that asked for the team bathing together.
ON AO3
*
Nile has been crammed in the back seat in between Booker and Andy for what feels like hours, although it’s probably more like twenty minutes, while Joe takes a circuitous route out of the city. She kind of wishes he’d hurry it up, but on the other hand, getting pulled over in their current state would make what’s already been a pretty bad day way, way worse.
Booker’s legs don’t really fit in the cramped back seat, but he doesn’t really seem that put out about the way he’s got one knee twisted up under the door handle and the other jammed into Nile’s thigh. His hand is across his face like he’s dozing. On her other side, Andy has her head tilted against the window, hair leaving smears of blood on the glass, to all appearances genuinely fast asleep. Up front, Joe is talking with Nicky in Italian too quick and soft for her to follow.
The whole vibe is unnervingly reminiscent of late-night bus trips home from her varsity soccer games. Other than the fact that they’re all liberally smeared with blood and gore. Nile can feel something horribly chunky dribbling down the back of her neck every time she moves, and she has an awful suspicion that it’s bits of her own brain from that last shotgun blast she took. She’s trying very hard not to think about that mostly because this is all disgusting enough without adding vomit to the mix.
“We’re here,” Nicky says suddenly in English, and Nile lifts her head, blinking dazedly, as the little safe-house comes into view. Joe brakes gently into the driveway, which turns enough that the tall hemlocks lining the road block them from view of anybody who might be out driving by.
Andy is up by the time they come to a stop, going from sleeping to waking in the blink of an eye. She shoves the door open and offers Nile a hand out; on the other side, Booker groans as he unfolds himself out of the car.
Nile’s shirt sticks to the back of the seat like it’s glued before finally peeling away. “Dibs on the shower,” she mumbles, and Andy laughs. “What?”
“It’s a big shower,” Joe says over his shoulder as he climbs the steps. Nicky pushes the door open while she’s still blinking about that, and holds it open for the rest of them to slip inside.
The rest of them make a beeline to the bathroom, shedding clothes as they go, and Nile pauses in the doorway, letting the door fall shut behind her. “Wait, are you serious?”
“What, you never shared a shower before?” Booker asks absently. He’s focused on the buttons of his shirt, which are tacky with blood.
Nile rolls her eyes. “I mean, yeah, but not with four other people. Not like this.”
“We should all fit,” Joe says through the open bathroom door. He’s naked already, which at least answers the question of whether they’re leaving their underwear on as some kind of awkward nod to modesty. It’s probably just as well. Nile took a couple of bullets to the chest and she’s pretty sure the underwire is popping out of her bra from how it keeps jabbing at her. Nicky kicks his pants off too and leans around him to start the shower, and Nile sighs, shakes her head, and gives up.
“Fuck it. Fine,” she says, and reaches up to start unbraiding her hair. She realizes her mistake a moment later when she gets a handful of—something—slimy and squishing, and she gags before Andy steps close and grips her wrist firmly, bringing it down.
“Let me do it,” she says calmly. It doesn’t come out like a question, exactly, but she waits until Nile nods before moving around behind her to start undoing her braid, matter-of-factly pulling out bits of gore and God knows what else. Nile closes her eyes and breathes in through her nose, then out, waiting for her gorge to settle. When she opens them again, Booker is crowding into the shower after Nicky and Joe. Nile watches long enough to see him catch an elbow to the midsection from the latter that doesn’t look entirely accidental, then closes her eyes again.
“If you’re not comfortable with it,” Andy says from behind her as her fingers work, “I’ll kick them out.”
The thing is, Nile knows she’d do it, just like she knows that all three men would comply without complaint. It’s that, maybe, that makes her shake her head. “No, it’s fine. Not like we need to be tracking more blood all over the place anyway. Besides, none of you got anything I haven’t seen before.”
Andy laughs softly. “Fair enough. There, you should be good.”
“Thank you,” Nile says, turning back toward her. She looks like some sort of elemental, shirtless and smeared with blood, but there’s a gentleness about her expression all the same. A kind of calm that leaves Nile space to settle.
“You’re welcome.” The corner of her mouth tilts up, and she bends down to unzip her boots, adding, “Better hurry before we run out of hot water.”
“There’s plenty,” Nicky says from behind the shower curtain. And then, “Joe, here, let me—”
“Thank you, habibi.”
Andy tugs her blood-drenched jeans and underwear off, leaves them in the heap that Nile is pretty sure they’re going to have to burn, and climbs into the shower. There’s a rustle behind the curtain, and Booker yelps, “A little warning next time, boss? I really don’t want to die again tonight from slipping in the bathtub.”
“Oh, don’t be a baby,” Andy says, and Joe snorts, and Nile finds herself grinning as she pulls off her clothes and follows.
Inside is cramped and steamy, a wet tangle of limbs, but Joe was right; they do fit, just barely. Nicky is under the spray, rinsing soap out of his hair, a pink-tinged trail of suds sliding down his shoulders and back. Booker’s hair is covered in soap too, but when Nicky ducks out from under the water he catches Nile gently by the shoulder and steers her under it, and Nile lets herself be steered. Lets the warm water sluice over her body for a moment, then takes the washcloth Nicky passes her and runs it over herself, rinsing away the blood and other things better left unmentioned. “Anybody seen my shampoo?”
“Here,” Joe says, and leans between Nicky and Andy to pass her the shampoo bar. Nile takes it gratefully. That’s the nice thing about this being an actual safe-house instead of some random hotel room: her stuff is here, and she’s not stuck trying to wash gore out of her hair with some shitty hotel soap.
She moves out from under the spray to start working shampoo into her hair, section by section, and Andy pulls Booker under it. “You have brains in your hair,” she says, working her fingers through his soapy hair with the air of a mama cat forcibly bathing her kitten. Nile snorts out a giggle, feeling dazed and punch-drunk. Gunshot-drunk. If that’s a thing.
“I think we all had brains in our hair after that.”
“Except maybe Nicky.”
“Hmm,” Nicky agrees. He’s running a cloth over Joe’s back and shoulders with careful focus as Joe leans against the shower wall, wet curls falling into his face, eyes closed. “I did avoid that. Although I’ll admit that decapitation is still not my favorite way to go.”
“Especially when they use a dull machete,” Joe mumbles into the crook of his arm, not asleep after all.
Nicky drops a kiss on his newly clean shoulder. “Well, we can’t all be dashing warriors with a shamshir.”
Nile peers at him, suds running down her elbow to drip on the tile floor. “Wait, is this another one of your murder-flirting things, or…?”
“Asqalan,” Joe says, still into his arm. “What a fucking mess that was.”
Nicky kisses his other shoulder with an air of apology. “It was.”
“You’re done,” Andy says to Booker, elbowing him out of the way to step under the spray herself, tilting her head back. Rivulets of water cut through the blood caked on her skin, pooling around her feet. Nile finishes with her hair and leans past Andy to get the shower gel and another washcloth, which she wets and passes over to Booker.
“Thank you,” he says, with a brief smile. Andy is already scrubbing herself with a handful of suds, balancing gracefully on first one foot and then the other to get at the blood that must have dribbled into her boots. When she finishes, she draws Nile back under the water with a gentleness that Nile would never have thought her capable of when they first met.
This is up there with some of the more casually bizarre situations she’s been in since she died and woke up for the first time, especially if she discounts all the ones that involved getting murdered, but it’s… nice. It’s really nice, actually.
She finds herself sitting on the edge of the tub some time later, detangling her hair with her fingers while Nicky and Joe sway together under the spray in what looks like something between a slow-dance and a half-conscious effort at staying upright. It should feel uncomfortably intimate, but instead Nile just feels warm and loose and relaxed for the first time in hours. Maybe weeks. There’s something peaceful about it, the familiar scent of coconut as she works conditioner through her hair, the warm patter of water on the tile floor, long-since rinsed clean, the little human noises of all of them together.
“Okay, I’m getting us clothes before we all fall asleep in here,” Booker mutters eventually, and slips around the two of them to climb out of the tub. Andy huffs laughter and smacks at his hip without looking up from where she’s scrubbing blood out from under her nails; Booker ruffles her wet hair, tips Nile a grin, and then is gone.
He’s back a few minutes later, dressed, with a stack of towels and four piles of pajamas. Nicky and Joe move aside to let Nile under the spray to rinse out the conditioner, and by the time she shuts the water off, warm and clean at last, she’s alone in the shower.
The others are already dried off and dressing when she climbs out onto the wet floor. The coolness of the room is a shock, and she huddles gratefully into the towel that Booker drapes over her shoulders. He got her pajamas and one of her head scarves, a gold-and-purple one she found somewhere in Marrakesh. She smiles up at him, and he squeezes her shoulder and says, to Andy, “You have a visitor.”
Andy groans. “If it’s Copley, I’m going to shoot him. Or maybe myself.”
“You just got done washing the blood off,” Booker points out. He nods toward the living room. “It’s not Copley.”
“Oh,” Andy says. She tugs a t-shirt over her head, peers out through the doorway, then lets out a word that might be a curse or a prayer in a language that Nile doesn’t recognize, her face going soft. “Oh.”
“Who—” Joe begins, peering after her. Nicky cranes his head as well. “Ah.”
“You’re just going to keep the suspense going, huh?” Nile asks. She pulls on her shirt, then follows the rest of them out into the living room, scarf in hand and still-damp hair dripping down her back.
Perched on the sagging couch is a woman that she’s seen only once outside of dreams: this afternoon, spinning a path of destruction through the mercenaries who had them pinned down inside the warehouse with the fearless grace of someone who cannot die. She vanished before any of them could follow, and Andy was white and wordess all the way back to the car.
She’s cleaned up sometime between now and then, dressed in jeans and a wool jacket wrapped tightly around her even though it’s not at all cold in here. Her hair is braided out of her face and her expression is impossible to read, her eyes fixed on Andy.
“Quynh,” Andy says, a soft exhalation. She’s gripping the door frame like it’s the only thing holding her upright.
Quynh inclines her head slowly. Out of a fight, there’s something cautious and rusty about the way she moves, like she’s still remembering how to exist in her body, in the world. “Andromache.” Her eyes move over the rest of them, dark and wary. “Nicolò and Yusuf. And you’re the new one.”
“Yeah,” Nile says. She has no idea what to do with this frozen standoff, but it’s clear that none of the rest of them are going to make a move, and anyway her mother raised her right. She steps forward, holds out her hand. “Nile. Nile Freeman. It’s nice to meet you.”
There’s a sound like a choked laugh behind her, but after a long moment Quynh smiles slightly and reaches up to clasp her hand.
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36 & 38 for marjeo??? 💖
Okay @evaneddie here it is. This probably bad and out of character sorry. But I'm kinda proud so here we go.
"36": hey don't listen to them
"38": I love you so so sososo much
Marjan was sixteen hours into a twenty four hour shift and it seemed like today all of Austin, Texas had woken up on the stupid side of the bed this morning.
First call out was to a house fire which turned out to be a romantic breakfast in bed gone horribly wrong due to the involvement of a waffle iron being left unattended whilst the residents had, well been otherwise occupied. The fire had been relatively small and simple to put out. Although it left some ugly scorch marks and two embarrassed lovers caught in their underwear outside for the neighborhood to see.
The team had been packing up to leave when the woman's husband had returned home early from an apparent business trip.
It would have been kinda funny if the brawl that broke out hadn't ended in a broken jaw and a fist going through a car window slicing up the owner's arm. The two fighters had been packed up and taken to hospital by Michelle's team and their team had left soon after.
They hadn't been back at the station more than half an hour before being sent out again, this time to the local mall where a group of teenagers had been attempting to film parkour stunts by the escalators when one of them had fallen and gotten stuck between the two stairwells.
There were no serious injuries but it took an hour to get the kid out safely.
The group were then detained by security guards.
The third call turned out to be a woman purposely getting herself locked in a freezer at a butchers in protest of the consumption of animals.
Luckily the shop owners had noticed and called for help before she'd gotten herself killed by hypothermia.
Then there was a collision outside a school resulting in the second punch up of the day and then a father who had gotten his head stuck in the railing at a park whilst trying to get back his son's ball. Because trying to climb through a gap less than half the width of your shoulders was preferable to walking out and around the park fence.
So five calls in Marjan was tired, hungry and silently begging for the remaining hours to slip by without further incident.
TK and Paul where in the gym and Judd was reading in the bunk room.
Owen had disappeared into his office siting paperwork and Mateo was somewhere.
Marjan shuffled over to the station kitchen in search of much needed caffeine and a snack.
Bleary-eyed she looked around for her favourite mug - the one she'd brought with her from Miami as a good luck charm from her old station - to no avail.
Grumbling she went to the fridge to pick over left overs from yesterday's lunch.
Turning around Marjan almost jumped out of her skin at the sight of Mateo, TK and Paul huddled around the counter.
"Shit you guys, nearly gave me a heart attack" she gripped.
Mateo smiled at her apologetically and handed over an empty mug. Her mug.
"It was upstairs."
"Thank you," she crowed sleepily and reached over to squish his cheeks with her hands, "I love you so so sososo much, thank you."
Blame it on hunger and the lack of sleep, because Marjan didn't even realize what she'd said as she moved away to make herself coffee until hearing TK and Paul start cheering.
Suddenly wide awake Marjan froze.
In the corner of her eye Marjan could see Mateo quickly turn red and hightail it out of the room followed by the wolf whistles and jeers of their friends.
The whole 'i love you' thing had spread like wildfire around the station. The last six hours where filled with teasing from everyone. Even Owen had thrown in his to cents, asking if he needed to fill out forms for HR.
Marjan was at her wits end counting down the minutes until she could go home and stew in embarrassment in the privacy of her own apartment. Surely it would blow over by next shift.
Knowing the team they'd soon find someone else to make fun of.
"Your blowing it completely out of preportion." Marjan huffed while she shoved her things from her locker to her bag.
TK grinned leaning against the wall and Judd let out a booming laugh from where he sat on the bench.
"Don't listen to them."
The three friends looked over to the doorway as Mateo walked in.
"We'll leave you too crazy kids to it," TK stated dragging Judd out the room along with him.
"Hey" Marjan could slap herself, really 'hey' was that the best she could come up with?
Mateo came to a stop in front of her.
"Hey." He smiled. He had such a nice smile. He's so cute. Why was he's so cute. Shit was she staring, Marjan was starring.
This was awkward. Totally awkward.
Okay, she was going to say she didn't mean it, she was going to say she was tired and it was the slip of the tongue. She was going to lie and then go home and eat an entire tub of ice cream because that was what you do when you accidentally confess to your crush.
"I -"
"Did you mean it?"
No, say no. "Yes." No! What happened to lying!?
"Good."
Wait what?
"Huh?"
She blinked. Once, twice three times.
Mateo took her hand.
"Would you like to go out with me. Friday. Would you like to go out with me Friday. On a date."
"Sure."
Outside the locker room the station erupted in applause. The two jumped apart and Mateo grabbed his bag and fled. Throwing a "Friday"over his shoulder as he disappeared outside.
She look forward to Friday.
But first Marjan was totally going to kick some people's asses. A certain person's ass.
TK's ass. Seriously was he recording that?!
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Laser Tag
masterlist
summary: Jaemin never thought he’d finally end up kissing you in the middle of a laser tag game
genre: fluff
words: 1047
a/n: it took me 10 minutes to think of a summary im So bad at them
Why Jaemin had agreed to go laser tagging with his friends, he doesn’t know. They had crammed into Mark’s car, everyone sitting on someone’s lap besides the drivers. He had been squished underneath Jeno, and he swears he felt his ribs crack when Mark had slammed on the breaks and his elbow went straight into his side.
But when they arrive and you wave from the entrance, he remembers why he had said yes. They all know he has a crush on you, and they had only mentioned you when he had said no to come. He had agreed quicker than he had meant to. As he exits the car, he clears his throat and unrumples his shirt. Just when he could finally breathe again without having Jeno’s butt smashing his lungs, he walks over to you and he feels his breath catch in his throat when you smile at him.
“Hey,” you say, and he returns as he throws an arm over your shoulder and pulls you inside.
“I can’t believe I’m going to play laser tag.”
“Shut up, Jaemin. I can tell you’re excited.”
He laughs. “Okay, okay. I am, but only because you’re here.”
When you turn to him with a surprised look, he sputters to come up with something else to cover his slip up when Chenle slides over to his rescue with a cheerful, “You guys ready?”
Jaemin quickly followers him into a dark room filled with the vests and a woman with behind the controls. He ignores the wink Mark sends his way and detaches himself from your side, instead focusing on the employee as she holds up a microphone.
“There are two teams: red and blue,” she begins as the lights on the vests come to life. They all dive for the different colors, and Jaemin frowns when he realizes that you’re team red while he’s team blue. He had wanted to be on your side so you could hang out rather than running from each other. He begrudgingly pulls on the vest, tugging angrily at one of the straps when it doesn’t tighten and the gun drops to the ground.
“I guess we’re on separate sides,” you say, picking up the weapon and handing it to him. Jaemin doesn’t have a chance to thank you as you head over to Renjun to do the same, and he feels his eyebrow twitch when he ruffles your hair.
“Good luck, and please, don’t break any of the equipment,” the woman finishes, and the door slides open to a space darker than the one they’re in.
And then all hell breaks loose. Jaemin lurches forward as they race inside, and Haechan grabs his arm and pulls him through the darkness. The only thing he’s able to make out are outlines of the walls and flashes of red and blue as they race around, trying not to get shot. He almost wishes he hadn’t come after all; he’s not even on the same side as you, and he can barely see three feet in front of him.
“I’m going to go rack up some points, want to come?” Haechan whispers, and Jaemin leans back against a foam board in defeat.
“Nah. Go shoot Jeno for me though, he almost killed me on the ride over.”
Haechan disappears without another word, and Jaemin cranes his neck around for anywhere to wait until this is over. He’d go search for you, but he knows that you’re somewhere in here with Renjun. He tries to convince himself he isn’t jealous as he finds a place to hide behind a wall in the corner, and groans when he realizes he left his phone in the car. He had been too distracted by you to notice that it fell under the seat.
“Jaemin?”
He whips his head up to find Mark peeking at him through an opening in the wall, and from what he can tell, he’s on the opposite side. He puts his hands up and sighs.
“Just shoot me. Put me out of my misery.”
“What? But I thought you wanted to come.”
“I did. I just..”
Mark smirk is illuminated from the red lights on his vest. “Oh, I get it. You’re over here pouting because Y/n isn’t with you.”
“I’m not pouting!” Jaemin huffs, fully knowing that is very much pouting as he crosses his arms.
“But it’s because of Y/n, right?”
Jaemin doesn’t bother denying it as he drops his head back onto the wall. “Does everyone know about how I feel about them?”
“Yeah?” he says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
“Great. So Y/n knows too?”
Mark shrugs. “You should ask them.”
“Are you crazy? They’d-”
“Hey, Mark, have you seen Jaemin?”
At the sound of your muffled voice, Jaemin straightens up. Mark winks at him before turning to you and murmuring something he can’t hear, and then he’s gone and you slide behind the wall and join him on the floor.
“Why are you over here acting like a big loner?”
“I am not acting like a big loner,” he lies. “Shouldn’t you get back to your team and guard your flag or something?”
“Actually, I’d rather hang out behind a wall with you.”
Jaemin rolls his eyes to mask how fast his heart is beating because of what you said. He knows you’re just joking, and he shouldn’t take you too serious, but when he glances at you, and the way your lip curves in a smile, he doesn’t realize he’s leaning forward to kiss you until he accidentally pulls the trigger on the gun he had been clutching for dear life. You gasp as your vest lights up, and Jaemin could faint because of the incredulous look you’re giving him.
“I-I didn’t mean it,” he panics as you squint, and a second later, you shoot him back.
“That’s for shooting me,” you say, grabbing the straps on his vest and tug him closer. The blasting music drowns out the voice in his mind screaming at him when you kiss him.
“Oh my god!”
You jerk away from Jaemin, his eyes fluttering open a moment later to find Haechan grossly staring down at him.
“I found them! Jeno, you owe me ten bucks!”
#jaemin#na jaemin#jaemin x you#jaemin x reader#jaemin imagines#jaemin imagine#jaemin scenario#nct#nct x reader#nct x you#nct imagines#nct imagine#nct scenario#nct blurb#nct dream#nct dream imagine#nct dream scenario#nct dream imagines#nct dream x you#nct dream x reader#nct dream blurb#nct fluff#nct dream fluff#jaemin fluff#my writing
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Fallen Draco, Pt. 3
This story follows a prompt by @mymindsmadness
Summary: AU where Draco is a fallen angel, and the way he gets his wings back is by guiding Harry in defeating Voldemort, but it all goes wrong when Draco starts falling in love with Harry.
Word Count (Pt. 3): 3119
Word Count (Total): 9032
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Mentions of abuse/torture (non-graphic)
***
31st March, 1998
I watch as the clock next to me ticks over to midnight. Tuesday. Potter is still looking at me pointedly, waiting for me to pick up the robes. They are black as night, the perfect cover for me to slip under. For him to break me out of St. Mungo’s. My stomach clenches, knots riddling inside of me, tangling up. I don’t want to leave. I don’t want to put myself in danger once again, susceptible to my Father’s demons. But I can’t stay here. I’ll be found, caught. And then I’ll be back right where I left, but I imagine it would be a lot worse. What am I doing?
Potter sighs heavily before backing out of the room. In the doorway he whispers, “It’s fine if you don’t want to. I just thought-”
I cut him off by leaping out of the bed, clutching at the long robes. He gapes as I rush to remove my hospital clothes and throw the black fabric over me. I pull the oversized hood on, letting it fall onto my head. Potter smiles for a second before realising what exactly we’re doing.
He hurries to cast a cleaning charm over himself, removing all the blood and dirt that was caked on thick. Pointing his wand at his face, he then casts a Glamour. His scar vanished from sight, replaced with a pale patch of skin. I watch as all of his flesh slowly fades as well, leaving behind skin just darker than my own. Then he waves his holly wand above his hair, and it starts shortening and fading. What’s left is startling unlike him. The mop of black hair is now a cropped sandy-brown cut, and he looks rather strange. He conjures a small mirror to judge his disguise, and nods.
Turning to me, Potter raises his wand to my face. I instinctively flinch, before forcing myself to relax. A sorry-almost-pitying expression crosses his features, his emerald green eyes creased, and he quickly starts moving his wand as a distraction. I feel nothing changing, and I can’t see anything from beneath the thick cover-up I’m wearing, but Potter spends ages redoing his work. Making sure I’m completely unrecognisable. When he spins the mirror to face me, I almost gasp. My skin is still pale, but now it’s cool toned and covered with freckles. Red tinges poke through at odd places, and one particular patch draws my attention up to my hair. The neat, platinum blond is gone, replaced with strawberry blond tresses curling at the end. My eyes are no longer grey, but rather a pretty silver, the colour I’ve always wished for.
The nose and mouth resting on my face are different as well. Both are thinner, the nose is shorter and rather like McGonagall’s. My lips have changed colour and are now an odd orange instead of a pale pink. There is nothing familiar about my reflection, and I feel detached from the person I look like. Potter is inspecting my face, checking that it still disguises me. I purse my lips and turn the mirror away, passing it back to him. He waves his wand again and sicards the conjured mirror. He straightens the bed sheets out with a charm and quickly scribbles a note onto a scrap of parchment. He spello-tapes the note onto the back of the door and I catch a glance at it.
‘Mr. Malfoy has been relocated to another ward for his recovery. Do not follow up on his injuries, and mention him to no one.’
A warm feeling trickles up my spine, and I’m reassured. For the moment. Maybe Father won’t be able to find me. Potter is watching me again, and I nod at him silently. He pulls up his own hood (when did he get those robes?) and grabs my hand. I open my door and we walk out into the corridor.
***
St Mungo’s looks rather sad behind us. Instead of the bright hospital that’s inside, the exterior is another story. The red-bricked department store “Purge and Dowse, Ltd.” looks like it’s stuck in the 70s. It’s tiny, dark, and cramped. It’s perfect. The muggles passing by don’t pay it any attention, pretending that the monstrosity of a building doesn’t exist. Potter is still holding my hand, and I yank it away. He says nothing, continuing to walk through the criss-cross of messy London streets. I have no idea where we are, or where we’re going, but he seems to have a clear picture in his mind.
Potter trudges through various streets, all of which are quiet and seemingly unused by the public. When we accidentally come across a well lit, busy street, a chill races within me. The man next to me groans and grabs my hand. Before I have time to complain he leans in close to me, mouth to my ear. “We have to pretend, Malfoy.” I open my mouth to ask what exactly he means by that, when it hits me. We are teenagers in Muggle London, at midnight, wearing robes. Potter is holding my hand tightly, gripping me to him. Here, we are together. Questions won’t be asked and we will be able to slip between people relatively unnoticed. Boyfriends. It’s a brilliant idea, but I don’t quite fancy it.
I twist to him, about to argue, but I never get the chance. I’m suddenly being pulled across a street. Lights of red are on either side of me, with a bright green one in front. The green matches Potter’s eyes, and I feel slightly dizzy. The ground beneath me is striped with white, and a purring sound surrounds me. Of course. Muggle London. The odd, curved, shiny metal things carrying people are ‘cars’. My head swims, trying to make sense of what I’m seeing. Inside the cars, there is at least one muggle holding onto a circle with shapes cut out of it. This circle seems to control which way the car moves. Before I can figure anything else out, we are on the other side of the road.
Potter doesn’t slow at all, dragging me down a path. Shops line the street, most displaying a sign reading ‘Sorry, we’re closed.’ I look into each of the shops we pass, staring past our reflections and beyond the glass. Clothes make up the majority of what I see, hung up and folded in some sort of order. These particular stores often have people look-alikes standing at the front, presumably wearing some of the clothes sold in-store. Other shops are covered in pictures of tropic islands and of Europe, buildings covered wall-to-wall with massive machines that apparently dispense money, and shops filled with antiques and gifts.
Potter ducks into another alley and releases my hand. “We’ll Side-Along.” I nod hurriedly, wanting to be away from the muggles with their weird machines and inventions. Clutching onto Potter’s extended arm, I prepare for the queasy sensation of apparating. The world goes black for a split second, everything closing in on us and squishing down. And then it’s stopped, and we are standing on yet another street. This one seems quiet but still in use, and dingy houses dot the ground near the road. It’s a suburban street. The streetlights are dim, not emitting enough light to see clearly by, but I manage to notice that the houses look mostly abandoned. Potter walks forward and I let my arm drop back to my side. I watch as he walks up to two of the houses, looking expectantly at the seam. He notices that my arm is gone, and grabs for me again.
As he takes my hand, I see what he’s looking at. Another house is emerging, forcing itself out from between the two next to it. Instantly I know why I couldn’t see it.
“A Fidelius Charm…” I whisper.
“Yes,” Potter confirms bluntly. He leads me up the steps and draws his wand. I flinch at the holly length but release a sigh when he merely points it to the door. He murmurs something I can’t hear and pushes the battered door open. A long hallway comes into view, and I scrunch up my nose. The carpet is dirty and wearing thin, and the wallpaper is literally peeling off the walls. Serpents decorate the corridor, all of which are rusty and dull. I sweep my gaze up and down again, and spot a particularly ugly umbrella stand that’s made from a troll leg.
“I know, it’s hideous,” Potter deadpans.
“It’s the Black house.” It’s not a question, I know what it is.
“Was. It’s mine now.”
“You can keep it,” I sneer, “its revolting.”
“Gee thanks.”
I nod at him and start to pace up the hallway. Portraits hang off the walls, each of them depicting a different relative of mine. They are clearly well done, but a layer of dust coats the paint. As I move through the ground floor, I take everything in. I’ve never actually entered the house. My parents thought, rightfully so, that it was an embarrassment that shouldn’t be mentioned. Spider webs cling to the ceiling, and I shudder as I pass under them.
“Want something to eat?”
I turn at Potter’s awkward attempt at small talk. “No thanks.”
“Look. I know this place is dingy, but nothing I try fixes it.” He pauses, glancing down to the doorway at my left. “Besides, you have to eat at some point.”
I scoff loudly and enter the dining room. It’s a long room with a massive table in the middle, easily as big as the table at the Manor. Light fixtures hang from the ceiling, glowing faintly. “This room is better,” I say. The amount of dust is dramatically less than in the entrance, and the furniture isn’t crumbling to splinters. I still don’t particularly want to stay in it for too long though.
“Thanks Malfoy,” Potter replies. The git actually sounds pleased.
I exit the dining room and continue down the entryway. There is a stone door at the very end, and I hesitantly push it open.
“I wouldn’t go down there if I were you.”
“How come?” My voice is steady with a hint of judgemental.
“It’s worse than here.”
“I find that hard to believe,” I drawl. “What’s through there?”
“Technically it’s the basement, but the kitchen’s there too.” Potter has the sense to look sheepish at the fact that his kitchen is revolting and grimy, so I decide I’ll do as he wishes and look somewhere else.
I turn around and start going up the long flight stairs. I screw up my features at the House Elf heads stuck to the wall and keep my eyes down. When I reach the first landing, I gratefully step away from the stairs. This floor is much cleaner than the lower one and I gaze around, intrigued. There appears to be at least one bedroom, a bathroom, and a drawing room. I make a beeline for the latter, hoping to find somewhere to sit down. Instead, I halt immediately. There is a massive tapestry on the walls, covered in names and faces. It’s the Black family tree. My eyes rake over everyone, saying the names I know off by heart. I don’t recognise some of them, all of which are beneath a black, burned circle covering someone’s face. It seems I haven’t been taught about the people who disappointed the family.
Out of the corner of my eye I spot my mother’s name and face, and walk over to it. My hand lightly caresses the tapestry, and I feel a pang in my chest. Where is Mother? Potter said she was safe…
“She’s in a room upstairs, sleeping deeply.” His voice cuts through the silence and startles me. “I saw you looking, thought that’s what you might’ve been thinking,” he shrugs at me. I narrow my eyes at how easily he figured my thoughts out, but decide it’s ultimately not worth pondering over. We have always paid lots of attention to each other.
“Take me to her.” I swallow heavily around a lump in my throat as I’m led up another flight of stairs. This landing is smaller, but has more bedrooms. The second door is shut, and I walk carefully up to it. The gentle steps don’t stop the floor creaking, but it must help. I glance at the rooms next to it, and nearly barf at the state they are in. I close both of the doors on either side of the middle one and lock them to deal with later. I push open the door to my mother and step inside. The bedroom is clean and plain, lacking all of the decorations in the others. Potter has clearly cleaned it out in preparation for her. There is a table with potion bottles sitting on it, as well as a cup of water and some food under stasis charms.
I make my way to Mother, and my heart momentarily shatters. She looks so fragile, lying there. Her grey hair is fanned out on the soft white pillow, her eyes shut tight. I walk up and take my spot next to her. I reach out and take her sickly-pale hand into my own. My eyes burn and for a second I think I’m going to cry, but I don’t let myself. She isn’t gone. Not yet.
***
1st April, 1998
Potter has put me in the bedroom on the first floor. I hated it for the first little while, sitting in the uncomfortable bed sulking. But then I decided that I should do something about it instead of wallowing. So I did. I started with cleaning charms to remove some of the dust and debris, but quickly realised that it was doing nothing. After that revelation, I had started doing it by hand. Moving the rubbish and old furniture into the corridor was easy enough, most of it being deceivingly light. The dust, however, was another story. It was fairly simple to sweep it into multiple little piles, but what to do after that I had had no idea.
Eventually I had realised that I could just shove it into a bag and throw it out, so that’s what I did. I looked around the room and was quite happy with my progress. And then the walls had caught my attention. I remember scowling so hard my face hurt, before viciously ripping at the paper. By the time my disgust had worn away, most of the wallpaper was scattered on the floor. I also swept that up into a bag, and then removed the rest civilly with the help of some water and a lot of patience. All the while I was doing that, the carpet under my feet was starting to fall apart. The soles of my feet had hurt and I was growing tired. I took a break for a while, moving downstairs and finding something to eat in that truly horrendous kitchen.
I was refreshed when I paced back up the stairs and into my room, so I decided to tear up the mouldy carpet. While doing so, some wooden floorboards appeared. They were old and stained a disgusting warm tone, but they were better than the carpet. I hauled all the scraps out into the corridor next to the bags of dust and the debris, before Vanishing the lot of it. Now the room resembles more of a box than a bedroom, but it is much better than when I started. I still hate it, mind, but at least now it’s cleaner.
“You should order some paint and stainer.”
Potters input scares me, and I wonder how long he’s been standing in the doorway. “Weren’t you at the Ministry?”
“Yep. Left hours ago, decided to meet with ‘Mione and Ron in their hideout.”
“Oh, ok.” I pause, looking him up and down. His clothing is filthy, blood-stained and muddy. Why is he always covered in blood?
“Have you been doing this all day?” Potter asks curiously.
“Guess so…”
“Like some help?”
“From you? No thanks,” I insult. “You’d probably make it worse than when I started,” I joke.
“Probably,” he replies absently.
We lapse into silence, neither comfortable nor uncomfortable. I take this time to really look around at my work. The walls are stripped bare to reveal an off-white colour beneath, the removed carpet showing floorboards that are in a fairly decent condition despite their age, and the lack of dust and debris makes the room seem bigger and brighter. The only current problem needing fixing is that there is no bed.
“I should go get some furniture,” I utter awkwardly.
“No!” Potter cries. “You can not leave this house!”
“Why not?!” I yell, indignant.
“It’s dangerous Malfoy!”
“How so?”
“Your father is most likely tracking you down right this second, Voldemort will be beyond it with rage, and they both have a whole army of Death Eaters at their finger tips! Not to mention that the public would be more than likely to turn you in!” Potter reasons.
I stare at him. His Glamour is long gone, and his tan skin is flushed in anger and desperation. I sigh loudly and nod, accepting my fate. It is just too risky to leave, and I would probably be killed instantly. But something is itching at the back of my mind. “If the public wants to turn me in…” I start, “why haven’t you?”
Potter’s expression falters, his posture tightening. He closes up from me, crossing his arms in front of his chest. For a second, I don’t think he’s going to answer me.
“Because.”
“That’s hardly a response,” I roll my eyes.
“Because,” he sighs, “I’ve always been oddly aware of you. I couldn’t bear to have you killed.”
I freeze. Oddly aware. Couldn’t bear to have you killed. It sounds like he’s some sort of friend, not my enemy from since we were eleven years old. I contemplate his confession, and realise that I feel the same. I have always noticed random things about Potter that others miss. I don’t know what I would do if I couldn’t torment him, make his life miserable. He’s been such a big part of my childhood, making his life miserable was my favourite hobby. And despite everything, he saved me.
I slowly feel the tension drain from my body, and I turn my eyes to Potter. I take in his expression of ‘what did I just say?’ and ‘it was true anyway’ just as a blinding white light hits me. Pain sears up my body and I feel my back threaten to split open. It’s happening…
***
A/N: I am so sorry this has taken weeks to get up! I have been extremely busy with university, and have had no time to write. This should now be back to its normal schedule. Please let me know if you want to be tagged. Xx
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IT HALLOWEEN MONTH!!! Have monster!! Here’s “Hard Work and Science”.
Jester woke up with a groan. Her everything hurt. Every muscle, every joint, every nerve, and every inch of skin was sore. Not in a “oh please let the sweet kiss of death release me from this agony” way, but more in an “all I want in life is a hot bath” way. She tried to open her eyes, but the room was too bright. “Nnngh,” she moaned. Trying to get up, she found that her arms were strapped down to her bed. No, it was too firm to be her bed.
“Oh,” someone said. It was more of a sudden intake of breath than a word. Whoever it was mumbled something to themself.
“Mmmnngh, what’s going on?” Jester asked squinting to try to see where she was, but it was still too bright.
“You’re sentient,” the voice said like he could scarcely believe it.
Jester tugged at the straps again. “I’m what?”
“You’re sentient. You’re an intelligent being capable of independent thought.”
“Well, yeah, why wouldn’t I be? Um, can you do something about the lights?” Jester asked.
“Oh, ja, here. I shouldn’t be surprised that you have some light sensitivity.”
Cracking an eye open, Jester found that the room was a lot more bearable. She looked around to see a sterile room. It looked almost looked like a hospital room, but there were all sorts of cages along the wall. “Where are we? Why am I strapped down?”
“Oh, this is my, well, I guess you’d call it my operating room.” The owner of the voice stepped closer. He looked like he was in his mid thirties and had long messy ginger hair. Dark circles hung under his blue eyes and almost looked like bruises against his pale skin. He wore a ratty old lab coat and a blue scarf that had seen much better days. With more sleep and a better coat, he could be handsome though. “As for the straps, they’re to keep you from accidentally pulling out your IV.”
“Oh, that makes sense, I guess. Wait, IV? What happened?” Jester asked. She tried to remember the day before, but it was a blur. The last thing she could remember was that she was spending the day with her mom.
The man turned away and rubbed his arm. His fingers and part of his right hand were all tinged black like a piece of wood that was partially burnt, and his arms were pocked with old puncture marks. “There was a car accident, Miss Lavorre. You were thrown from 50 feet out the window. They nearly didn’t find you.”
Jester leaned forward straining at the straps. “My mom! What happened to my mom?!”
“Marion Lavorre is alive and well. She sustained some bruising and lacerations, but they’ve already healed,” he said.
“Where is she? Can I go see her?” Jester asked.
The man shook his head. “She’s at home most likely, and unfortunately, you can’t see her.”
“Why not?” Jester demanded. “She must be worried sick. My mom needs me.”
“Miss Lavorre, you must believe me when I tell you that that’s an impossible request,” he said.
Tears began to well up in Jester’s eyes. She pulled at the straps holding her wrists down. “You don’t get it! She needs me!”
He let out a sigh and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Miss Lavorre, your mother has known about your death for the last three months. I don’t think showing up at her door would do either of you any good.”
Jester froze. “Death?” That made no sense. She was alive. She was breathing. There was no way she was dead.
“Yes, death. You died in the car crash. The reanimation of dead tissue is a complicated process, but one that I’ve managed to accomplish,” the man said. He said it blandly like it wasn’t a big deal.
It made no sense. There was no way he was telling the truth. Jester yanked at the strap on her right arm one more time and tore it off the bed along with a chunk of the bed. She stared at it.
“Could you do that before?”
Jester shook her head.
“A marked increase of strength of then. I didn’t even consider the possibility.” The man rubbed his stubbly chin. “How do you feel?”
Jester stared at him for a long moment and then began to cry. It was all too much and none of it made any sense. Sloppy tears poured down her cheeks.
Gentle hands removed the strap from her left hand. “Ah, I see your eyes are still capable of lubricat-” He stopped. “I’m sorry, I should start over. My name’s Caleb Widogast.”
“I’m Jester,” she said rubbing her eyes. She stopped and stared at her hands. They were completely blue. Jester looked at Caleb hoping for an explanation.
“I see you noticed.” Caleb looked away. “It was an unforeseen side effect. I was hoping to bring you back without any noticeable changes.”
Jester gripped the thin blanket that covered her. “Why did you do this to me?”
“Why? Because -” Caleb paused and looked down at his strangely tinted hands. “Because you were what I needed to prove my hypothesis. I’m sorry, but I had no noble reason in bringing you back.”
“What’s going to happen to me now?”
Caleb sat down at the edge of the bed. “I’m not cruel. You can stay here. I need to keep track of your vitals anyways.”
Jester looked around the stark and clinical room. It was enough to make her cry again.
“Or you could have my room. It’s not like I sleep much anyways. Though, I don’t know how much you’ll need to sleep now. Frumpkins 1, 3, 4, and 7 sleep much less than they did when they were alive, but Frumpkins 2, 5, and 8 sleep the same amount and Frumpkin 6 sleeps much more.” Caleb rambled talking with his hands animatedly. If Jester met him in a different situation, she would’ve been more curious about him, but all she wanted was to go home. He seemed to notice her and stopped. “Wait, here.” Going over to the cages, Caleb opened one and pulled out a small bengal cat. “This is the first Frumpkin. He died two years ago, came back a year and a half ago, and is my best boy.” Gently, he put Frumpkin onto Jester’s lap.
The cat purred loudly and kneaded Jester’s lap. She stroked the cat’s fur. “Is this a test or something? Do I still like animals?”
“I don’t know if you like cats in the first place, Miss Lavorre. I’m just not very good at people. Frumpkin’s better at helping them than I am,” Caleb said staring down at the foot at the bed. “I was hoping that he could help you.” And all at once he wasn’t a strange, distant mad scientist, but someone small and lost.
“He’s a very good boy,” Jester said.
Caleb nodded. “Ja, and he prefers having his chin scritched to his ears.”
Jester scratched under Frumpkin’s chin earning an even louder purr. “You didn’t think through this whole bringing me back to life thing did you?”
“Nein, I’m starting to notice that I haven’t. Are you going to be okay?” he asked.
Jester gave him her best smile under the circumstances. “I’ll have to be.”
Caleb frowned looking at her. “I won’t be upset if you’re mad at me.”
“I don’t like being mad at people.” Jester continued to scratch Frumpkin. “Besides, being mad at you doesn’t change anything.”
“Still, if there’s I can do for you,” Caleb said.
Jester looked up from Frumpkin. “I am kind of hungry.”
“Oh, ja. I’ve got something for that. Just wait a moment,” Caleb said over his shoulder as he left the room.
Jester watched as he left and then lifted Frumpkin off of her lap. “I’m sorry, but I have to check something.” With a deep breath steeling her nerves, Jester lifted the blanket off to look at the rest of her. A plain cotton hospital gown covered her. Caleb probably put it on her and she wasn’t sure how she felt about that. Her legs were the same blue as her arms. More concerning the large cuts held together by stitches. There were two on her left leg and one on her right. She checked her arms and found more stitches right below her left shoulder. “I guess I’m like Frankenstien now, right Frumpkin?”
“Actually, Frankenstein’s monster was made up of parts from multiple sources. All of you is Miss Jester Lavorre,” Caleb said as he came back in. “If we were to compare you to a work of fiction, the test subjects from Re-Animator would be more accurate.”
“Oh,” Jester said softly. “How long will these take to heal?”
Caleb set down two plates on the little rolling table next to Jester’s bed. “I don’t know if they will heal. Some of the Frumpkins have maintained their ability to heal, but not all of them.” Jester stared at him in horror, but he didn’t seem to notice it. “Now, I don’t know what your stomach can handle yet and I don’t expect you to eat all of this, but it’s all easy to digest.”
On the larger plate was a clumpy pile of rice, some partially squished pieces of banana, and a baggy of apple slices. The other plate just had two pieces of dry toast. It wasn’t the most appetizing looking meal, but Jester wasn’t going to complain. She took a bite of apple and grimaced. It tasted waxy and flavorless, but she put on a smile anyways. “Thank you, but um dry toast?”
“It’s easy on the stomach, but I guess you’re right about it not being the most appealing. Here.” He ducked behind a counter and came back up with a jar of peanut butter and a water bottle. “We’ll just add enough to make it easier to eat.” Caleb then added what must’ve been the thinnest layer of peanut butter known to mankind.
“Thanks.” Jester added two bits of banana and an apple slice to make a smiley face. It was happier than she felt and failed to improve her mood. She took a bite trying not to cry. Instead she changed the subject. “Why do your hands look like that?”
Caleb’s face turned red and he shoved his hands deep into his coat pockets. “Just an experiment that went poorly.”
“Sorry,” Jester said picking at her rice.
“It’s nothing to apologize for. Curiosity is important.” He put on a pair of gloves and pulled out a notebook. “How is it? Does it taste like what it did when you were alive?”
“I don’t know,” Jester said shrugging. She didn’t want to think about the possibility of the problem being in her tongue and not the bland food Caleb gave her. “I mean I guess it’s rice and toast.”
“Hmmm,” Caleb said jotting something down.
Jester tried to eat a few more bites, but her heart just wasn’t in it. Pushing the table aside, she looked over at Caleb. “Can I ask for something?”
“Ja, of course.”
“Can I have a mirror? To see what I look like?” Part of her was scared to see, but she had to know.
Caleb paled but nodded. He must’ve realized that she was going to want one as he grabbed a mirror off the counter. “You sustained some lacerations on your face, but they’re not as severe as the ones on your body and I was able to close them with surgical glue.“ Not looking at her, he handed her the mirror.
Jester held mirror for a long minute before raising it up to look in it. Looking would just make this nightmare all the more real, but she couldn’t avoid it forever. With a count to three, she brought up the mirror and gasped. “My freckles are blue!”
“Ja, they are,” Caleb agreed.
“That’s actually really cute.” Her hair was also blue too. Jester had always wanted to dye her hair that color.
Caleb nodded with a slight blush. “Ja.”
On further inspection, Jester still looked like her. The dimples on her cheeks still crinkled when she smiled and her eyes were still violet. Little bandages now graced her face though and must’ve covered the cuts Caleb mentioned. “Are these Captain Tusktooth bandages?”
“Ja, they were what I could find,” Caleb said looking away. “I wanted to make sure your facial lacerations were protected.” It was actually kinda sweet in a weird awkward way.
“Thanks. And I like the bandages. Captain Tusktooth is a lot better than a lot of people give it credit for.”
Caleb nodded. “Ja, it’s a great story and the animation is amazing.” His flat voice lost some of its monotone.
Jester grinned and leaned forward. “I know! Like that fight between Captain Tusktooth and Avantika was the coolest thing I’ve ever seen.”
“The new season’s going to start soon,” Caleb said. “I can’t wait for new episodes. I had the first three seasons on repeat while working on you.” He frowned. “I probably shouldn’t phrase it like that.”
Jester sat back. “Yeah. But, um, could we watch the new episodes together?”
“You’d want to?” Caleb asked. “With me?”
“I mean sure. It’s more fun to watch with somebody and it’s not like I have anywhere else to watch it,” Jester said.
“Oh right.” He looked almost disappointed. “If you don’t want to stay here, I’d understand.”
Jester bit her lip. “Do I have anywhere else to go?”
“You have a point there, but I’d help you find one. After I confirm that you are stable, of course.”
Jester gave it some thought. “I might take you up on that offer.”
Caleb looked almost disappointed but nodded. “Ja. Please understand that I don’t want you to feel trapped here.”
She already felt trapped in her own skin, but she didn’t say anything. Instead she just smiled at Caleb. If the gloves meant anything, maybe Caleb felt trapped too. Jester knew that she shouldn’t but she liked the idea of not being the only one who felt that way.
“If you need anything or have any questions, you can ask me,” Caleb said.
Jester gave it some thought. “Caleb, you said that you brought me back to prove a hypothesis. What was that hypothesis?”
He gave her the saddest smile in the world rubbing his arms. “Just that nothing can truly be lost forever. There’s something I need to take care of, but Frumpkin can keep you company.” Caleb gave her one last glance and left.
Frumpkin jumped up on Jester’s lap. She scratched his head. “Your owner is very strange.” And kind in his odd way. Jester wasn’t sure what to make of him yet, but she knew that she’d have all the time she needed to. “And who knows, Frumpkin? Maybe this will be fun.”
__________________________
Notes:
So yeah, I tried to make this a multi-chapter fic, but it just wasn't working. So one shot.
The title comes from "Live"by Paul and Storm.
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Somebody asked if I had a story about that picture from the party episode and I accidentally deleted the ask, sorry, here it is;
Yep!
Are you sure we belong here?
It was Ray's close friend birthday, and Ray always would go there alone.
But not that night.
Kevin sighed sighed, looking at the mirror.
- Raymond, are you sure it's a good idea? I mean, I know you want to come, but I don't know anyone in there and we're not sure if people will accept it, and-
- Kevin, I assure you, it will be alright. I told you many times that you shouldn't think so much about what will others say. If anyone dares to touch you, I'll protect you and you know that, if that happens well immideatly go home. Just try not to worry and have fun, I'll be there with you the whole time. - Holt turned to his boyfriend, placing his hands on Kevin's shoulders.
- yeah... maybe... - Kevin said, sighing.
He was afraid. He never could even simply start holding hands with Raymond on public, even if he truly wanted to. Sometimes, fortunately, Ray took the initiative. Kevin was glad Holt wasn't as scared as he was.
- We will be fine, - Raymond smiled softly and kissed his boyfriend's forehead. Cozner let out a little smile.
Everything is going to be just fine.
Right?...
***
Kevin was nervous as hell, but he took Raymond's hand and walked in the building. Now the light, people and music surrounded him. Cozner stepped a little closer to Holt, hugging his arm.
- There are so many people in here... - He said silently.
Raymond wasn't quick enough to respond - mostly because someone appeared in front of them.
- Raymond! - The man smiled widely.
- Hello, Henry. I congratulate you with this date, - Raymond said politely.
- Thank you. I see you're not alone for the first time? - Henry smiled even wider.
- Yes, his is my boyfriend, Kevin. Kevin, this is Henry, - Ray said, introducing the two.
- Greetings. My congratulations, - said Kevin pretty quietly.
- Thank you, I'm glad you two here. Please, come in, - Henry led them to the living room, then he had to leave them to speak with someone.
- See? I told you it wont be that bad. - Holt said, looking at his boyfriend.
- It sounds stupid, but I still have a bad feeling. - Cozner shook his head, still not letting go of Ray.
Actually, it really wasn't that bad. For some time they were talking with each other, then someone joined their conversation and didn't even seem disgusted by being around them. Kevin started (mostly made himself) to relax a bit. Maybe everything really will be okay. Maybe his intuition was wrong.
They were drinking and talking. Raymond told his best jokes, and now Kevin almost forgot about his fear, just wanting to be near this man for all his life. These eyes, an almost invisible, and yet soft smile, his personality and just every part of him.
It all belongs to Kevin. And every part of Kevin belongs to Ray. And Kevin didn't really mind it.
Raymond rarely believed that everything could go very very wrong, yet he didn't exclude this option. But he felt that his boyfriend is really a bit too pessimistic and scared about these things. Now it's legal and now some people do understand that. Even if no, Ray will be able to protect both of them - he's a policeman, for God's sake!
And he won't let anything happen to HIS Kevin. Kevin will be happy and safe, he will laugh and smile, and no one will touch him.
Ray looked at the woman, who stared at them in complete shock.
And disgust.
Kevin still didn't notice her. Maybe it's even better if he won't.
Raymond now felt how almost everybody were looking at them. Is that the feeling that Kevin gets when he's in a situation like that?
It's not pleasant. And Holt saw Cozner notice something happening.
Kevin squeezed his hand a bit, after the man who was talking to them had gone.
- Are you sure we belong here? - He asked quietly, looking around at the people's judging looks.
- Don't worry. Of course we belong here. - Raymond responded, wrapping his arm around his boyfriend's shoulder.
Henry saved the situation, joining them. Kevin sighed with relief.
Mostly the man was talking to Holt - Ray could understand, why. Kevin is nervous, scared and he's in the new company. Cozner never talked too much in these situations.
- Kevin, would you tell me about yourself? While talking to Raymond I heard about you, you seem to be quite interesting to talk to, - Henry smiled widely, turning his face to Cozner.
- Uh, alright... Well, I was a journalist in New York Times, but recently I've got the work in Columbia University. Now I'm a PHD.
- How'd you two meet? - Henry asked, still smiling.
- Didn't I tell you already, like, two times? - Raymond raised an eyebrow.
- Shush, I want to hear this story from him too, you know how much I'm curious about this! - Henry laughed and then looked at Kevin.
- O-okay. Well, while I was a journalist, I needed to ask him a few questions about work. That's when we first talked to each other. His answers got me in stitches, heh. Then...
While Kevin continued talking, Ray was looking at him, lost in thoughts. He didn't even realize that he was smiling. He couldn't believe his happiness - Kevin is right in front of him, safe and happy. He watched Cozner let his gaze away, shrugging his shoulders and just simply breathing, and every move of him was the most charming thing Ray could ever imagine. And it all belongs to him.
- Ahh, you guys are really cute together, never thought I would say "cute" about Raymond, - Henry shook his head.
- Ehh, thank you, I guess, - Kevin smiled a bit. Holt smiled softly too and squished his hand a little.
Henry smiled, and then some woman stepped to him.
- Oh my God, I was looking for everywhere, Jenny, where have you been? Kevin, this is my wife - Jennifer, Jenny, this is Raymond's boyfriend, Kevin, - he introduced them.
Kevin wasn't quick enough to say something, as Jennifer asked in shock:
- Wait, boyfriend?
- Uhh.. Jenny, you knew Raymond is gay... - Henry seemed a bit embarrassed about his wife's attitude. He looked at Ray and Kevin, like he was trying to mentally say sorry.
- Yes, but I thought he'd change his mind, really, - she said with interest.
Kevin and Ray looked at each other.
- It's not something you can change your mind about, - Holt said neatly.
- Nah, you just didn't understand that yet, guys, - Jennifer smiled.
- But don't worry, I can help you two find someone so that you can be normal again! - The women said enthusiastically.
- W-we don't need anyone else!.. We have each other and that's all that we need! - Kevin wasn't angry, he sounded more scared.
- Jenny, please, let's go and talk about this, ok? Let's go... - Henry pulled his wife away, whispering "I'm sorry" to Ray and Kevin.
Cozner hugged his shoulders, looking down.
- I knew it would happen... - He said quietly.
- Don't worry, Kevin, everything is fine, - Raymond patted his boyfriend's shoulder.
- Stay strong. If you can't do in by anyway, I promise we'll go home, alright? - Holt lifted Kevin's head, placing his hand on Cozner's chin.
- Okay. I'll try to. - Kevin sighed and straightened his back, looking in Raymond's eyes.
Though it wasn't that easy. As they started to speak with people, many of them just walked away, going like "ew" or something.
Only a few people they met didn't seem to be disgusted. At least something.
- Ohhhh, guys, I have an idea! Couples group photo?
- Henry, we do that all the time, - Jennifer shook her head.
- Well, we've got Raymond and Kevin now, Ray never was in there before! Come on, we did that every year, why not? - Henry smiled.
- Uhhh, no, thank you. Not this time, - some man who Kevin and Ray met earlier and who turned to be homophobic too, said.
- I'm out.
- I have to go...
That left only a few people. Even they did demand not to be near these two, they agreed only because Henry insisted.
- I told you we don't belong here, - Kevin said quietly.
- And I heard you, - Holt nodded.
Henry really tried to convince them to join, at first Kevin didn't want to, but then they just gave up, Henry was pretty active and said "please" too many times.
- Huh. That's our first photo together, - Raymond said, looking at the picture.
- Right... I completely forgot about that we didn't have any photos where we are together, - Kevin took Holt's hand.
- We do now.
- Shall we take it?
- Of course.
The rest of the night was quite good. Until...
Kevin relaxed a bit, nothing bad happened after the photo. He went to take him and Raymond something to drink, feeling confident now.
Someone grabbed his elbow and he gasped - it did hurt.
He turned to see who was that and felt that he was pressed to the wall pretty hard.
- Ow! What-
- Don't show your homo shit in public, you fag! You two are fucking psychos! If I see you again doing that shit, I swear, I'll-
Kevin didn't remember quite well what happened next. He remembered Raymond showing up, he was already having a nosebleed - these guys tried to beat him up too, but as Kevin saw Ray punching the guy, who was holding him, he understood that Raymond was able to fight with them.
He remembered screams, remembered Henry trying to calm them down, remembered how he was trying to pull Raymond away from the guy, while Holt was aggressively saying something and while Henry was holding the man.
He remembred already sitting in the car, sacred, holding Raymond's hand and wiping the blood off his face.
He remembered getting home, helping with Holt's wounds, telling that he shouldn't have putted quite a fight because of him and hearing Ray saying that he would die for him.
- Don't you dare, I'll get up there and kill you once more if you'll do that, you got me?! - Kevin said with a shaking voice.
- If you'll be able to fight me, I'm still stronger. - Raymond chuckled, sitting straight in front of Kevin.
- My anger is terrifying. - Mumbled Cozner.
- Aww, yes, sure, - Ray teased him, getting a very light push from Kevin. And still, Cozner was smiling.
- Did you get hurt? - Holt asked.
- You're asking that for the third time, Raymond. I'm alright, - Kevin said, hugging him.
- I just wanted to make sure, because you are rather stubborn and I know that sometimes you can lie just not to make me fell worried for you and your state.
- You always can detect if I'm lying, we've been through this.
- That's true too. Not looking at the fight, did you like the party?
- ...I think yes. I thought it would be much worse, but it was quite... fun. And we got out first picture together.
- Then I'll save it, if you like it so much.
- I'd be glad if you do this.
#b99#brooklyn 99#kevin cozner#ray holt#ray x kevin#raymond holt#b99 fic#b99 fanfic#b99 fandom#ray x kevin fic#i've been writing this for so long#asks#thank you for your ask!
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Marichat May - Kitty Cats & Ballet Shoes
Day Twenty-One: Cold Night
[ A03 ]
Marinette stared up at the tall mountains, she had her largest and warmest jacket on but it barely held back the cold, she has always been extremely susceptible to the cold and always hated winter because of it. She could see the beauty in the snow but her body couldn’t stand it.
Chat was typing away furiously at his keyboard trying to find somewhere to stay, she sighed and looked up to the slowly darkening sky.
Grenoble was nicer than she had expected, they had filed their day with exploring and visiting museums but she knew exploring the museums would end up with them staying the night but she couldn’t complain, it had been years since she had visited the Alps. She had been ten when she had last visited them and her memories from that time had almost faded.
The coffee shop they were staying it was nice and warm inside but she needed some fresh air, the cold air coming down from the mountains proved helpful and she was able to clear her mind of growing fears. She watched through the large floor to ceiling windows as Chat ordered another set of drinks for them.
She sighed again before she re-entered the small café. Chat immediately noticed her return.
“Hey…” Chat said drawing her attention to him, “I can’t find a hotel here but…”
She put down her cup fully expecting that they might be spending the night in the back of the SUV, “where is it?”
“Further up the mountain.”
She smiled, “Okay…” It was a much better outcome than she had been expecting, “How far?”
“Two hours,” he explained.
She nodded and pulled her wallet out to pay for the bill, “Well we better get going then.”
He nodded in return and packed away his laptop while Marinette snatched up her camera from the table.
Her legs hurt from being stuck in the same position again for another two hours but the view into Saint-Gervais was worth it even in the dark, the moonlight bounced off of the snow-capped peaks lighting up the skyline with a soft silver glow. It was truly an enchanting sight to behold, she wished she had asked Chat to stop just so she could take a proper picture of it but the ones she had taken on her phone seemed to do it justice, her parents and Alya had sent her raving reviews on the photos, Alya’s was a little more confused at the sudden pictures and a little more when she realised her best friend was over five hours away.
She giggled as even more frantic messages flooded in from her friend, she barely looked up from her phone, her feet just carried her slowly behind Chat and her suitcase rolled on behind her. She followed him to the counter then up the stairs to their floor.
“What are you laughing at?” Chat asked looking over her shoulder.
“Alya, she… I didn’t tell her I was going on a holiday so…” her voice trailed off as she nervously adjusted her bag strap on her shoulder.
“She’s having a mini freak out isn’t she.”
“Yep,” she replied popping the ‘p’. She could see him smiling out of the corner of her eye.
“Here we are,” he said slipping the room key into the lock.
He pushed open the door to reveal a small room, it felt extremely like a cabin but it also had a small hint of a modern feel, a single bed sat in the heart of the room up against a timber feature wall, there was a small two seat sofa up against the right wall and on the left there was a set of French doors that lead out onto a small wooden balcony.
“Sorry its small,” he apologised.
“Don’t be,” she replied, “How’d you even get this?”
The room was extremely nice for something they had gotten last minute.
“Last minute check out?” he shrugged, “Not sure, didn’t ask but we have it for at least two days.”
She laughed and set her suitcase down on the bed, she started to unpack a little of her clothes.
“I’m guessing you’ve planned something for the next few days then?”
He nodded, “I’m going to go grab some dinner, did you want something in particular?”
She shook her head.
He nodded and exited the room leaving her alone to unpack, it was only when she was alone did she realise that there was one bed in the room. She had been ignoring the small crush that was forming for him, she wanted to take things slowly, to test the water and not jump into a pool of cold water unprepared.
She wished she had someone to talk to at that moment just so she could calm her growing worries, she could call Alya but that would only complicate things, even though her best friend had good intentions, Marinette didn’t think her best friend was the person she could talk to about it, she wanted to talk to Mullo, she missed her very much, too much for something so small and for something that had been in her life for only a short while.
Her hands instinctively went to where the necklace sat, her fingers brushed against the bare spot of her neck. She shook her head, it was not good to dwell on the memories of the past, she pulled her hand away and headed towards the small balcony, the tall snow-capped mountains were the only thing she could see, the small lights from the houses and cars further down the hill they were sat atop looked like fire fires in comparison to them.
The Mountains still amazed her and she didn’t think she would ever grow bored of looking at them, she wondered if Chat was planning on going skiing tomorrow, she was never any good at skiing so she hoped that he hadn’t planned that, maybe he had planned on sight-seeing, she could do sight-seeing.
She sighed and went to investigate the bathroom, a warm shower was something she defiantly needed in that moment.
Marinette shivered under the many layers of blankets, nothing seemed to keep her warm. Her eyes searched the darkened roof above her, the time on the digital alarm clock displayed the time in a very angry red, one-forty-three am, she yawned and tried to bury her head further into the pillow to force herself to sleep.
She curled up into a tight ball to try and fight the cold nipping at her toes but her mind wouldn’t let her rest, too many things were swirling around inside her head; mainly about how she was laying, was she too close? Or was she too far? What if she rolled over in the night and accidentally squished him, too many what-ifs for her liking, she was tempted to get up and sleep on the small sofa across from them but he stopped her before she mustered up the courage.
“Marinette?” Chat asked, his voice was thick with sleep, “Are you okay?”
She nodded, “I’m- I’m fine,” she replied through chattering teeth, “Go back to sleep.”
She heard him nod against the pillow and roll over. Arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her into his chest, Marinette felt her body grow warm, whether it was from him or the bright red colour her cheeks had turned she didn’t know, she was just glad that Chat had ignored what she had said in favour of this.
“You okay now?” he whispered.
She nodded again and he let out a sigh, his grip around her loosened and soon his soft breathing reached her ears meaning he had already drifted off, she silently laughed at how fast he had fallen back asleep, she wished she could but he had just given her mind a whole heap of other things to worry about.
Made for @marichatmay
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#marichat#marichat may#marichat may 2019#miraculous#miraculous ladybug#miraculous ladybug fanfiction#miraculous ladybug fanfic#chat noir#adrien agreste#marinette dupain cheng#Kitty Cats & Ballet Shoes#SwanSongWrites#I keep drabbling on
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Tangled Webs (Part 2)
Fandom: The Flash
Rating: G
Summary: When Ralph confronts the youngest Team Flash member about the powers she’s been hiding, Parker has to confess she’s been moonlighting despite the ever-present danger of DeVoe. (Ralph’s POV)
A/N: Here’s part 2 of Tangled Webs. A lot of parts, especially towards the end, are the same, but it’s the same discussion, just from Ralph’s POV. I do have other ideas for this, including a training scene. Because it’s going to be hard to train an energetic spider-kid in the basement of Star Labs.
“-still have a couple of hours of clean up to do and you have that history test tomorrow.” Ralph looked up as he and Cisco walked into the Cortex from training. Parker was shoving her homework in her backpack as Barry offered to run her home. Her eyes shifted to the clock on the screen briefly then shook her head.
“Nah, I’ve got band practice. Jo said they would meet me at Jitters. Thanks anyway.” The team seemed to agree with the statement, but Ralph looked at her with suspicion. Parker told him she’d quit the band because the pressure to keep up her grades was too much. He only remembered because he offered to help her with her history. She’d taken him up on it and came to him whenever she needed it.
Why was she lying about a school activity she’d dropped?
“At least let me run you there,” Barry insisted, pulling Ralph from his thoughts. Parker agreed on that and waved as she left on Barry’s footsteps.
Leaning against the wall, he let the others provide a backdrop as they bounced around ideas to stop DeVoe as he thought over Parker. Ever since he’d gotten to know the kid, he’d known she was a good kid. Good student, funny sense of humor, compassionate, and still somehow managed to have an innocence with how dark the world could be.
But the past couple of months, Parker had become…shifty. At first, he figured it was because she was a teenager. Teenagers were shifty and did stupid shit. Several of his P.I. cases had been going after missing teens, only to find them two counties over, getting in over their head. Skipping school, drinking, and keeping secrets was what a lot of teenagers did. He was willing to let Parker be a little shifty and let Joe know if he thought she was getting in over her head.
When Parker’s shiftiness took on a pattern, he took notice.
First, it was remembering Black Bison when he’d been hypnotized. He’d also remembered a teenage girl failing to sneak on board the bus. At the time, she seemed frantic enough that he took pity and came up with a bullshit story of her being his niece and taking her to school. He added her fee to his IOU and made her take the seat next to the window.
Then Parker started leaving the Cortex at four-thirty nearly every afternoon. She cited band practice, study group, library trip, other “good kid” excuses that everyone – including him - fell for. It didn’t take long for her to start looking exhausted and overwhelmed. She struggled with her grades. He once spotted a bruise covering an eighth of her back and ribs, but she waved it off as running into the door. One morning she came in, rolling her shoulders as though she was sore from running track.
She wasn’t in track.
“She quit the band,” he mumbled around his thumbnail, not realizing he was thinking out loud.
“What was that, Ralph?” Ralph’s head snapped up so fast, he felt his neck stretch oddly. Grimacing, he set his neck back to a normal position and found the team staring at him expectantly.
“What was what?” he asked.
“What did you say?” Barry repeated, having run back from dropping off Parker a while ago. Ralph glanced at the clock on the screen: 3:30 pm. Parker had been gone for thirty minutes.
“Sorry, zoned out thinking about a case,” he said truthfully.
Just then, an alarm sounded in the Cortex. “Robbery in progress at 31st and Collins,” Iris reported. Before even Barry could do anything, the alarms stopped and Iris was staring at the screen, confused.
“What is it?” Barry asked, leaning over her shoulder. Ralph moved to look over Cisco’s as he pulled up the camera in front of a pawn shop. Everyone watched as a black and white hooded figure swung into the scene and webbed the two would-be robbers. The meta was small and agile, easily lifting the robbers and carrying them off the CCPD.
“Local spider-meta got there first,” Cisco said, impressed.
“Still can’t get a beat on them?” Barry asked. Cisco shook his head.
“Nothing. I scoured the records of all the metas that popped up on my alerts since the accelerator explosion. None of them have Spider-Man capabilities.”
“Maybe they came in from a different city?” Caitlin asked, but Cisco was already shaking his head again.
“Nope. I extended my search to meta DNA as far as New York and Arizona. Nothing.” He gestured to the screen. “This kid just came out of nowhere and started doing small-time hero stuff.”
Ralph blinked and straightened. “You mean this meta hasn’t been around before?” he asked. The others turned toward him, looking mildly shocked that he asked.
“No,” Caitlin said softly. “They only showed up a month or so after the bus accident.” She looked at Cisco. “Maybe another bus meta?” Cisco shook his head.
“Only nine people were on that bus. Unless…”
“Unless there was a tenth person we missed on that bus,” Harry finished. “We need to go over the bus footage and records again.”
Ralph stared at the blurry screenshot of a familiar white and black suit, accent with a gray hooded jacket. His mind whirled as he arranged and pieced together his thoughts. The teenager on that bus…Parker being shifty…leaving the Cortex at a certain time…the spider-meta showing up in cameras thirty minutes later…Parker coming in with bruises and exhausted the next day…Parker lying about band practice…
As everything clicked into place, ice-cold panic flooded Ralph’s veins. Straightening up too quickly, he tripped over his feet and stretched to catch himself on the floor. Cisco reached to help him, but he brushed it off and stretched his arm to grab his jacket.
“Ralph, what’s wrong? You okay?” Barry asked.
“Yeah, yeah,” Ralph waved off as he backed towards the door. “Just might’ve figured out something with my case and I need to hit up a couple of contacts. I’ll check in later. Bye!”
Forgoing the elevator, he found the stairs and stretched himself up to the level needed for the parking lot. Once he made it to his car, he pulled out his phone to check the time. It was 3:40 pm. He needed to track down Parker, but first, he needed to make sure he was right.
Or in this case, hope he was wrong.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Ralph stared up in awe at the partially constructed skyscraper. Pulling off his mask and shielding his eyes from the setting sun, he could see what looked like a hammock of some sort constructed between two steel support beams, swinging gently in the breeze.
It turned out he was right after all. While it took him an hour to track down some shady contacts who came across the spider-meta, it took a far shorter time to figure out where Parker had gone. All he had to do after was follow the trail of webbing she made. Okay, so it wasn’t that easy, he amended to himself as he began to stretch himself onto the skyscraper. He did run into a lot of old webbing in alleyways and over buildings. It was still terrifying how easily he could track her down.
It would take DeVoe only minutes.
Shaking that thought from his head, he instead focused on the teenager he was confronting. Barry would go for a lecture, Harry would start yelling, and Joe would be disappointed. Parker would shut down at every single turn and continue moonlighting. He would have to handle this his way.
At least she had good taste in scenic landscapes for heart-to-hearts.
“Gotta say, you found yourself a pretty great view, kiddo.” Parker’s shadow moved as she tried to find the source of his voice. Both knew it was him; he was the only person Parker allowed to call her “kiddo”. Forcing himself to not look down, he stretched himself up onto the support platform next to her hammock. “Take it you’re not afraid of heights?”
“Never,” Parker admitted softly. “How much trouble am I in?”
"Depends." He gestured towards the web hammock and she nodded. He stretched himself slowly onto the hammock, making sure it would hold both their weights. Parker didn’t seem worried, but he’d flipped too many hammocks to be cautious. "Does the team know you were on that bus?" he asked, settling himself on the other side. She picked at a stray thread on her jacket.
"No," she whispered. Ralph watched as guilt and shame filled her. He didn’t have to be a psychic to know she knew with DeVoe looking for the bus metas, she should’ve told the team. She risked a glance at him, then looked away, unable to keep eye contact for long.
"What were you doing on that bus that morning?" he asked gently.
"That was the morning everyone was trying to get Barry out of the Speedforce." She glanced at Ralph again, who nodded for her to continue. "I wanted to be there, but Joe made me go to school, nonetheless. Said it was better if I just went to keep my mind off what was going on. But I couldn't stop thinking of being able to see Barry again, so after homeroom, I kinda..."
"Ditched?" Ralph supplied. Parker nodded. "And hoofed it to the nearest bus stop and tried to sneak on?"
"I forgot my money pouch at home." She caught his eye for a moment and smiled crookedly. Ralph smirked as she recalled the memory. "I still owe you three dollars, huh?"
"Buy me a coffee and we're even," he joked. "And the powers?"
"There was a spider crawling on your bag when you were dozing. I meant to get it off, but the bus jerked and the spider bit me just as dark matter flooded in."
"Whaaaat?" Ralph gasped. "You mean you actually got bit by a radioactive spider?" Parker giggled and nodded. "Oooh, I'm so jealous! Wait, what happened to the spider?" Parker cringed.
"Accidentally squished it." Ralph's lips curled up, disgusted for a moment. "How did you find me?"
"When Barry and Iris had me hypnotized, I remembered you a little more clearly," he explained. "At first, I thought you were being a teenager about school and quitting the band, but your routine became a little too predictable" he pulled out his phone and pulled up a YouTube clip of the mystery spider meta swinging past and waving. Parker noted it was taken a couple of months ago, shortly after her powers manifested. "Coupled with the routine of that mysterious spider meta swinging around, it didn’t take long to put it together." Parker handed him back his phone.
"That doesn't explain how you found me." Ralph gestured at the webbing to the building.
"You leave a trail, kiddo." She blushed and picked at her backpack again. He nudged her to get her to look up. His expression was worried, bordering on panic. "An extremely easy one too. If I could follow you halfway across Central City, what makes you think Devoe couldn't either? The man had a flying chair and is now taking over metas. It would be terrifyingly easy for him and we wouldn't know until it was too late."
Parker fell silent, tears threatening to fall as she sat up to look at the bay. Ralph gave her some space to think and get her words together. When she wiped her nose on her sleeve, he sat up and waited for her to talk.
"I'm sorry," she whispered. “Even though I knew lying about being on the bus would have disappointed everyone, I thought that if I could prove how good of a superhero I am, they wouldn't yell at me." She scrubbed at the tears that kept falling. "By the time we knew Devoe's intentions, I was in too deep. I just wanted to ignore the danger and keep doing what I was doing."
With a heavy sigh, Ralph reached up and wrapped an arm around the teen's shoulders in a hug. "I get it. I know what it's like to feel you live in someone’s shadow and want to prove yourself." He rested his chin on top of her head and sighed. "And the thing is, you have. I've seen the footage. You help people and relate to them. They love you, way more than Elongated Man." Parker looked up, surprised to hear the bitterness in his voice.
"People think you're cool too, Ralph," she insisted. "I think it's cool how you can stretch and stuff." Ralph grinned, looking both surprised and pleased at the compliment. She sighed, staring at the sunset. "They’re going to be pretty pissed, huh?"
"Oh, no doubt.” At the dejected slump of her shoulders, he hugged her again. "But I withheld crucial bus meta information too. I'll take on some of that anger for you." She looked up, surprised.
"Really?"
"Really. I can take it. Besides, we're a team now, right? I'll stand beside you." Parker grinned and hugged Ralph tightly around the middle. He laughed softly. Noting the sun was pretty much set, he pulled back. "Come on, break down this webbing and we'll pick up some Big Belly Burger to sweeten their tempers."
"Are we going to drive there?" she asked, packing up her stuff. Ralph scoffed and put his mask back on.
"When we have a faster mode of travel? There's a Big Belly on the corner of 31st and Park. Race ya there?"
She grinned wider and pulled her mask down and hood up. "Best swinger pays for dinner?" she asked, spider-crawling up the metal framework. Ralph grimaced, pulling his own mask back over his eyes. Parker didn’t quite understand the double innuendo as she found the right jump-off point. Once tempers cooled, he and Cisco would have to work on some more appropriate Web-Slinger terminology.
"Yeah, I could go with that. Ready...set..."
"Ralph?"
"Yeah?"
"You're not just my teammate. You're my big brother too."
Ralph blinked, feeling like the air had been punched from his chest. His lungs felt like they were squeezed as a long-forgotten emotion bubbled up inside him. It had been a long time since he felt like he belonged somewhere. Clearing his throat, he nodded, not trusting his voice for a moment. “You might soon regret giving me that title, kiddo,” he finally said.
He chuckled when she lifted her mask enough to stick her tongue out at him. “You gotta catch me first. Ready…set…GO!”
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