#was FULL of pictures of them all. she had this row circling through the whole kitchen and down the hall and so on. and i hc that for Nana
Note
how would you write a fic where: Nana meets Parker and Eliot
well, I wrote one possible version of Nana meeting Eliot in my fic 'Food Is', so there's that, but it wasn't really the focus of the story. But there's a ton of ways to go with this one, it's really hard to choose one method.
I think if it's something I would write then I'd leave off all my ideas about possible heist-related meetings where the team has to help Nana simply because the cons intimidate me too much to write in any detail. So, the first one to come to mind is something like:
Hardison has been uncharacteristically dragging his feet on introducing them to Nana. Parker brought it up, like, the once, and Eliot never has - they both don't have anywhere near the kind of family background where they'd feel comfortable on insisting. And it's not that Hardison doesn't want them to meet her, but he hasn't really taken the initiative to make it happen, and they certainly won't, so it just... hasn't. They all lead busy lives after all.
(Hardison talks them up to Nana all the time over the phone and whatnot. But it's. It's different, he wants her to love them as much as he does and he's kinda afraid she wouldn't. She knows what he does, knows what they as a team do... but the messy reality of it might put her off. Seeing the three of them in a romantic relationship might be something she objects to when it's in her face. What if she tells embarrassing stories about his childhood and they never let it go? What if Parker or Eliot don't like her? Her health isn't super great and he doesn't want to stress her out! She always polices his orange soda intake and he'd need that to handle the stress of such a meeting! He's never really been in love before, never had to do the whole 'introduction to your parents' thing and he wants it to be PERFECT when it happens. He knows most of his fears aren't realistic at all, but they're still making him super nervous and it's just easier to plan that he'll make it happen at some point in the future.)
But Nana gets impatient. She takes things into her own hands. By which I mean, she just shows up one day.
Of course, the crew is in the middle of a con at the time. Like, fully in the middle, on a timeline, can't stop what they're doing now. This means that despite all his best efforts to manage the entire meeting, Hardison physically isn't able to be there half the time. Nana's weekend visit or whatever involves her sitting in on strategy meetings, cooking with Eliot, talking knots and knits with Parker, playing video games with Hardison, just various snatched bits of time with all of them in between them running out to do things for the con. At one point she absolutely grabs the phone and plays the role of FBI handler or whatever. Maybe she plays a key role at the end of the con. She's definitely interested in what they do.
Hardison is all freaked out and overprotective, Eliot is terrified and trying to be very nonthreatening since he has no idea what's been said about him, Parker is openly and deeply curious about every single detail of this woman's life but also nervous about interacting with her. Nana meanwhile is trying to assess these people her son loves so much, and also have some fun while away from home. Since the focus is mainly on her POV/moments with the crew, I wouldn't have to write in a full con, just maybe snippets of what the others are up to at any given moment (sort of like in the Broken Wing Job).
Anyway, it obviously ends with her giving her approval and bonding with them all. She talks to Hardison about his lifestyle (in all senses) really being okay with her in practice, not just theory, and maybe gently scolds him for even unreasonably fearing otherwise. (Would she have preferred something safer? Yes. But he has people who will take care of him, he loves what he does and it uses his big brain to the fullest, and he is helping people. Of course she isn't disappointed. And, what. The two people thing? Maybe she hasn't been telling him enough stories about her wild youth if he thinks that's gonna phase her.) She teaches Eliot some family recipes and also definitely some funny Alec stories. She 'lets Parker talk her into' trying out a climbing rig (Nana's a little bit of an adrenaline junkie, Hardison is way more concerned for her health than she is) and essentially adopts her and says she already considers her family and she has an open invite whenever she wants to come by. She kicks everyone's butts in any variety of videogame (Hardison wins there but it's decently close) or board game. She is openly affectionate and loving and everyone loves her deeply.
FLUFF FLUFF FLUFF
There's a family dinner, and then she goes home. The fic ends with her arriving home, talking a bit to Breanna maybe, etc. etc. ...and then she goes up to bed or something and finds a stuffed animal on her bed, with a little note from Parker. She must've left like right after Nana did, beat her home somehow, broke in and gave her a little gift. Something to show she loves Nana too, and wants to be in her family as well.
Nana's heart is full and warm and she is so so happy for her baby boy that he has found a place to belong and people to do so with. She sends him a picture of the bear. Picks it up to move it, and notices it's weirdly heavy. Opens it up. Finds the inside is full of gems or something, and there's one more note saying 'just in case'. Nana laughs out loud.
#leverage#thiefsome#nana hardison#inbox games#my fic#how would i write this fic#(also. my own grandma before she died used to take in foster children for most of her adult life. adopted one of them. but anyway her house#was FULL of pictures of them all. she had this row circling through the whole kitchen and down the hall and so on. and i hc that for Nana#dunno if hardison and breanna were the only ones she raised fully to adulthood but she definitely fostered a whole bunch of kids and#very proudly displays their photos/award/etc. everywhere. certainly a scene of her bragging on them all)
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Yarning For Her
Adrien is smitten with the girl who's always been there, in the row behind him. But when his plans to ask Marinette out unravel, a secret throws him for a loop…
Written for the Miraculous Writer's Guild April Event 2021: Followers sent five emojis as prompts to the @mlwritersguild Tumblr for the writers to pick one to write for. I chose the emojis sent by @ladycat1: ✨ 😊 👀 👩🏻 🧵
Canon compliant up to Season 4, Episode 4: M. Pigeon 72.
👩🏻
It was finally happening. The event everyone was waiting for… well, everyone except the main protagonist of said event.
Marinette could feel it, though she could hardly believe it. She noticed Adrien looking at her with more intensity, when he thought she wasn’t looking. How he had trouble finding the right words when talking to her. All the tiny gestures of attention, like offering to help with a difficult subject or a complex art project, or praising her outfit every day, even if she’d worn it several times before.
Nino could tell, too: questions about Marinette and her favourite colour, food, flower, or whatever else were whispered in his right ear all day.
Actually, the whole class noticed Adrien’s marked change in behaviour. His cheerful hellos were now stuttered in Marinette’s general direction. His head hid on his shoulders whenever Marinette sighed or yawned, as if his neck couldn’t handle her fresh breaths. Even his athletic skills were now replaced with an unexplained jerkiness. The fact that the weather was warmer and the girls’ gym suits gave way to short shorts and strappy tops might have had something to do with it.
In short, Adrien fell in love with Marinette. Hard.
👀
When it started, Adrien couldn’t exactly tell. Ever since that first day of school, Marinette had held a special space in his heart (most of which had been stolen by Ladybug the previous day). She was one of his first and dearest friends.
But now… after getting to know Marinette, her loving and kind nature, after seeing her helping others without asking for anything back, after finally noticing how pretty she was… he wasn’t so sure.
That day at the pool was definitely a turning point.
First there was that unplanned double dive. During those milliseconds when they were falling, Adrien’s thought process went something like this:
Danger!—Why is Marinette here?—Protect!—Wow, she looks so cute in that swimsuit!
As they hit the water, their arms instinctively reached out to the other as they sank, swirling back up to the surface in a soft embrace — just like that night in New York, when they had danced floating in the air, under the full moon.
And when they were leaving the pool, Adrien was so happy and surprised to see she still had the umbrella he’d given her way back then! Sweet as always, she offered to give it back to him, even though it was raining and she had to walk home.
She was standing next to him (she linked her arm in his!) when that pesky umbrella decided to close on them, and they were pulled even closer for a few seconds. Very close. He could smell the chlorine in her hair mixed with the scent of sweets that always surrounded her. He thought he felt her heart beating faster and faster. Maybe it wasn’t. His heart certainly was. He could feel her warm breath through his shirt, and it drove him a little crazy.
When they said goodbye that day, he could hardly take his eyes off her. He even bumped his head on the car door frame. Ladies and gentlemen, here’s the charming, elegant model Adrien Agreste, unable to enter a car (come to think of it, he seemed to have a bit of a problem with doors whenever Marinette was around).
✨
The few weeks that went by did nothing to sort out Adrien’s feelings about the two black-haired girls in his life. His days were mortifying, his nights restless. On one such night, Adrien tossed and turned, but sleep wouldn’t come. The full moon and bright stars shining through the window frames painted his room with grid patterns, a constant reminder of his confined life.
Adding to that, his mind was racing with memories of his (now frequent) clumsiness and embarrassment at school. He recalled the fumble of the day: going into the classroom while trying to look cool, he managed to snag his bag strap on the door handle, causing him to jerk back and hit the ground on his butt in front of the whole class.
Adrien groaned and turned again. Worst thing was, he had no idea how she felt for him. She kept sending mixed signals. Her behaviour towards him wasn’t as weird as it had been, but that didn’t mean a lot. He’d even asked her a couple of times. He remembered the time they visited the wax museum, when she said she didn’t like him like that.
“What’s the matter, kid?” Plagg yawned from his side of the pillow, annoyed by his bearer’s restlessness. “Who is it this time? Spots or bakery girl?”
Adrien didn’t bite, going back into his musings instead.
His mind turned to Ladybug… These days, Spots occupied a much smaller part of his thoughts. He still got the occasional butterflies in his stomach when he saw her, or when she praised him and his humour. She would always be his first love, and not an easy girl to forget… but she was right, of course — she was always right — as long as they had enemies, they couldn’t reveal their identities, much less deepen their relationship. Back when Bunnyx first showed up, they found out that there would be a new Hawkmoth and countless akumas in the future, and who knew when that would end?
Plagg was still grumbling about sleep and cheese. Adrien playfully flicked his kwami’s ear.
“Shut up, Plagg! I’m trying to sleep!”
“Very unsuccessfully, I might say,” Plagg flew out of his reach. “You sighed four-hundred and fifty-eight times in the last hour.”
“Come on… can’t you see I’m in turmoil here?” Adrien turned his back to the kwami. It was no use arguing with a deity, no matter how minuscule.
“Four-hundred and fifty-ni—” Plagg’s teasing was interrupted by a pillow hitting him.
😊
This wouldn’t do. Adrien couldn’t stand his own indecisiveness any more. He decided to ask Marinette out, that very day. After a reviving shower, he got dressed and looked in the mirror. The dark circles around his eyes were evident, but he hated wearing concealer to school. He might as well add a couple of details to his usual get-up: a pair of Gabriel’s new collection sunglasses and his favourite blue scarf.
He arrived at school early, and while most of the class was either chatting in the courtyard or going into the classroom, Marinette was nowhere to be seen. Adrien went into the locker room, and lurked behind the last row of lockers while students got in, got their things and left.
Finally, the hurricane that was late-for-class-Marinette thundered in, scolding herself for oversleeping as she got her books for the morning. When she closed the door, there was Adrien, leaning against the cabinets with his best Chat Noir smirk as he looked over the rim of his sunglasses and greeted her.
“Good morn—”
He didn’t have time to finish his line, as a very startled Marinette squeaked and grabbed his free arm to spin him around and pin him to the lockers with an elbow to his throat.
It took a few moments for Adrien realise exactly what had happened, before she released her hold.
“I’m sorry, I… panicked,” Marinette said, as she stepped back and continued to gesticulate wildly and mumble more awkward apologies.
Still frozen in place, Adrien managed to adjusted his crooked sunglasses.
“Marin—” he had to clear his throat. “No, I— It’s o-ow!”
Adrien tried and failed to step forward, as he heard a ripping sound — his scarf was caught in Marinette’s locker, and the momentum slammed him back into the metal doors with a loud bang.
The proverbial stars that blurred his vision cleared up to show Marinette very close to him, fumbling with the lock to release the scarf.
“Sorry, so sorry, I’m such a klutz!”
“It’s okay, no harm do—”
Adrien stopped talking when he saw that the scarf had a large rip, disappointment obvious upon his face.
“Oh no!” Marinette covered her mouth as she saw the damage. “Your scarf! I ruined it!”
At this point, Adrien would usually smile and say something like ‘it’s okay’ or ‘no worries’, but he couldn’t lie: he really loved that scarf. It was his favourite colour, warm and cosy, yet light enough to wear on a spring day, and a rare thoughtful gift from his father. He pouted a little as his fingers traced the tear.
“I can fix it!”
He lifted his eyes to Marinette as she got on her tiptoes to unwind the scarf from his neck.
“I can make it look as good as new. I know you’re worried, after all it’s your dad’s birthday gift,” she rambled as she delicately folded it, “but I have leftover yarn— I mean, I think I have the same colour, and it’s a simple pattern.”
There was something odd about the way she worded that, but Adrien dismissed it. He must have made a weird face, because now she had a concerned expression.
“I mean, if you trust me with it… I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t after I destroyed it. ”
“No—I mean, don’t be silly, it was an accident… I shouldn’t have sneaked up on you like that!” He managed a relieved little smile. “Still, my father might be upset if he saw I ripped it. Are you sure you can fix it?”
Marinette’s eyes averted his for a moment, as she returned the folded up scarf.
“I’ll do my best! I’m not a pro like your father, but I’m sure I can make it as good as new in no time at all!”
They agreed to go to Marinette’s place after school so that she could start working on it right away, then ran off to class as the second bell rang.
Not exactly the way I planned it, Adrien thought as he scrambled onto his seat, but I guess it worked!
🧵
Adrien reclined in the chaise-longue and looked around Marinette’s bedroom. It was the total opposite of his, huge and aseptic and cold. On the contrary, these walls had warm colours and pictures everywhere, and it smelled amazing, fruity shampoo mixed with glue and ink from her many design projects, mixed with sweets from the bakery, and everything about it was so welcoming and cosy and so… Marinette.
“Yes!” Her delighted voice interrupted his reveries. “I knew I still had it!”
Adrien chuckled as he saw Marinette triumphantly holding a ball of light blue yarn, then get several needles from her yarn basket and sit at her sewing station to start working. He switched seats to her desk chair and rolled close to her.
“Can I help?”
“Sure! Let me just…”
Marinette picked up a long, thin knitting needle and started to thread it on the scarf, just above the tear. She was so concentrated and her movements so careful and precise, she might as well be defusing a bomb. Adrien noticed her tongue sticking out the corner of her mouth and wondered what her kisses would taste like.
“There. I have the brakes on, now let’s get going.”
Marinette found the end stitch at the corner of the scarf and cut it. Giving Adrien the end of the yarn, she continued.
“Hold this. Make a ball while I unravel it.”
“Huh? Un-what?” Much as Adrien trusted her skills, he panicked. “Won’t you make it worse?”
“No, because I’m holding the knitting with this,” she pointed at the longer needle she had threaded through the scarf.
Marinette turned her chair, so they were sitting face to face, knees almost touching, and started to quickly unravel the bottom part of the scarf, while he rolled up the thread in a ball, both enjoying the comfortable silence. He noticed a small piece of fabric falling from one of the edges and bent down to pick it up.
“What’s this?” Adrien thought out loud while examining it.
As soon as Marinette lifted her eyes from her work and saw what he was holding, her eyes went wide and her cheeks red.
“Oh, it’s nothing—” she tried unsuccessfully to snatch the fabric from his hand. “Probably just the washing inst—”
It was not an ordinary washing instructions tag. It was tiny and had been woven into the knitting, so discreetly he’d never noticed it before. He turned the fabric over to see a recognisable signature.
Marinette
“Wait— you made this?” Adrien picked up the other end of the scarf from her lap and examined like he’d never seen it before. “Wha—? How? D-did my father buy it off your website?”
So that’s why she was so confident about fixing it. He searched Marinette’s face for an explanation, but she just shook her head and kept looking down, unravelling the loops one by one.
“No— of course not— your site wasn't set up back then, we only took those photos later…”
Adrien thought back to the time Nathalie handed him the present, neatly packed in a box with a ribbon. He’d never seen that kind of care in his father’s presents, just standard gift bags with expensive pens, straight from a corporate catalogue. His train of thought was broken by a couple of tears falling on his hands.
“Marinette…” he murmured, lifting her chin to look into her misty eyes. “Did you make this for me?”
She nodded with a tiny smile. He moved his hand from her chin to cup her cheek, wiping her tears with his thumb.
“Was this supposed to be your present for me?” Another nod. “How did this mess happen then?”
“I…” Marinette had to clear her throat and finally looked at him. Something in her eyes changed from avoidance to determination. “I wanted to give it to you personally, but I couldn’t gather the nerve… then one thing led to another, and I left it in your house, and I even signed it, but…” she shrugged.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I just… couldn’t. You were so happy with the present from your dad. I couldn’t ruin it for you.”
Adrien made a mental note to find out exactly what had happened, then set all his negative feelings aside. His heart was too full of love to think about anything other than the girl in front of him.
“Oh, Marinette…” he softly chided as he hugged her. How could this girl be so selfless, on top of everything else? She cared for him, really cared for him, even back then. “I wish you’d told me.”
He released the hug and pulled her closer, into his lap. Marinette set the scarf on the sewing table and put her arms around his neck. Her tears were gone and a hint of a smile played on her lips.
“That way,” Adrien caressed her nose with his, “I would have thanked you properly.”
“Oh yeah?” Marinette breathed, her lips very close to his. “You can thank me now.”
They closed the distance between them, their lips melding into a sweet kiss, then another, and then a few more. Adrien’s heart was beating so fast he could hardly bear it. Then he remembered he should probably breathe at some point.
“Wow.”
“Wow.”
“If that’s the way you thank a person for a present, I’ll start giving them more often,” Marinette joked.
“Not anyone.” He pecked her lips. “Only you.”
They kissed again, this time more passionately. He kissed her eyes, the tip of her nose, her forehead, her neck, then back up to her lips…
The scarf was left forgotten on the sewing table. It could wait a few more hours before repairing.
Fin
Thanks to @hari-writes and @deinde-prandium for the beta read! ❤️
Constructive criticism is welcome and appreciated. English is not my first language and I tend to use UK English. If you catch any inconsistencies, please let me know.
My AO3. My Twitter. My Instagram.
#ml writers guild#miraculous#miraculous ladybug#adrienette#adrinette#my writing#ml fanfic#my fic#ml#ML#adrien agreste#mls4spoilers#marinette dupain cheng#fluff#no identity reveal#humour#oblivious#clumsy#klutz#not the person you expect though#my fanfic
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Mist | Choi San | Chapter 4
Pairing: Choi San x OC (Seohyun)
Genre: supernatural (ghost), romance, high school
Trigger Warnings: paranormal, death mentions, violence
Words: 6.6k
Disclaimer: I do not own anything except my original character and the story. I do not own any gifs or pictures used.
Full story on Wattpad (don’t spoil here if you read there too)
chapter directory
--------------
Seohyun was waiting for Jiwoo for quite a while now, sitting on the desk in her room, doodling in her notebook. She sighed as she shut it, a bit frustrated. It was not like Jiwoo to leave her hanging.
Seohyun considered going out; it was highly likely that Jiwoo was at their usual spot- the park near the school, her home, or the accident site. It was about 10 pm. Wasn't that late, was it? She got up, but stopped.
Maybe Jiwoo needed space.
It was probably this, but Seohyun couldn't help fearing that she had just moved on. If she'd gotten her memories back, that could mean that she was a whole different person now. She might not be the Jiwoo she knew anymore.
Seohyun fell on her bed, staring at the wall, and suddenly felt goosebumps.
"Took you long enough," Seohyun said, not bothering to look at Jiwoo, who had just entered the room.
"Don't tell me you were waiting for me," Jiwoo smirked.
"Oh, why would I?" Seohyun smirked back, and made space for Jiwoo, who sat on the bed with her. "So?"
"So, my dear friend," Jiwoo began, clearly excited to tell her her life story.
And she did. She was Ahn Jiwoo, daughter to two loving parents and a sister to a 16 year old brother. She'd had a pretty normal life; her father was a finance manager and her mother a housewife, and she had a lot of friends during her school years too. The rumours about her father being some sort of criminal were wrong; she had to face those rumours in her life too. They had her confused with another Jiwoo in her class.
"So we were a group of four friends; 2 boys and 2 girls. I was kind of a rebel in my last few months of life, because I just found life boring. I wanted an adventure. Something new. I wanted to travel too. So I was suggesting to my friends that we should do something. They were all busy in their own ways, and I didn't understand. I kept bugging them. So when we were in that restaurant, we had an argument. I knew it was my fault. I stormed off, and I was just about to go back when I got hit by a car."
"Oh... so then you went to the hospital, and they found out you lost your memories?"
"Right," she said, "But I was already in a critical condition. Brain damage led me to death."
"Ah..." Seohyun stared at her. Jiwoo's eyes were sad as she told her this, but she looked content. "So the reason you stayed..."
"The reason I stayed was not one, but two. I wanted to make sure my friends didn't blame themselves and my parents had moved on. And I spent the whole day making sure that was the case."
"And the other reason?"
"I want an adventure," she said and smiled brightly.
"Ugh, you ghosts! You stay for the most stupid reasons!" Seohyun mocked and dramatically threw her head in her hands, which made Jiwoo hit her with a pillow until she was laughing.
"That's my last wish, Seohyun. You think you could do that for me? Go on an adventure with me?"
"Haven't you had enough of adventure though? I mean, living with me is an adventure in itself-"
"I already talked to San," Jiwoo said, catching her attention. "He actually thought it was a nice idea. So we're going on an adventure this week. He said he'll make it a surprise for me."
"Hey, hey, that's not fair? You didn't even ask me!"
"I didn't have to," Jiwoo flipped her red hair.
------------
"I don't know why I ever agreed to this," Seohyun sighed, handing her bag to Wooyoung who put it with the other few bags.
"Stop being a boomer and get in," Wooyoung said, and Seohyun did, muttering how she should have never suggested this.
"Should've thought before you planned all of it," Jongho snickered and Seohyun shot a glare.
"Everybody's in?" Hongjoong asked and they looked at each other, shouting a yes. Hongjoong gave a thumbs up and took the front seat of the van after shutting the door.
Everyone, including Jiwoo, who couldn't stop smiling, were seated. Seohyun had asked her mom to lend her a van that could fit 10 people, and though her mom had raised her brows in question, she had agreed when Seohyun said it was a trip with friends. She had just been surprised she had friends that were not ghosts, so without further questions (quite conveniently) she agreed, on the condition that the driver would be someone from the company.
She did raise a question when she found out that she was the only girl in the whole group, and there were only 9 people. Seohyun finally told her she was doing a favour for a ghost who had saved her life, and her mother made her promise she'd tell her the story someday.
They were going to Muchangpo Beach. They decided they'd see the sunset there. It was close to Seoul and the only place they could afford to travel and have an 'adventure'. They'd have a fun time, the boys promised, saying everything was fun when they were together.
Jiwoo was sitting between San and Wooyoung, and the three of them were chatting. Seohyun smiled when she saw that San was her voice; he'd say whatever she had to say.
She herself was in the middle row with Seonghwa and Yeosang by her sides. The two of them were also half bent backwards, listening to whatever the three of them were talking about. Seohyun had plugged her earphones in but she wasn't playing any music yet. She just listened to them talk.
"Tell us something about Seohyun," Wooyoung asked, giggling. Seohyun smiled inwardly.
"Well, Seohyun," Jiwoo thought, "she's quite rude, isn't she?"
"She's quite rude, isn't she?" San did his job, and the five of them laughed.
"She's not that rude,~" Seonghwa casted a glance at her, sighing in relief when he thought she couldn't hear him. Seohyun bit her cheek from the inside to stop smiling.
"She's scared of crows, of all thing," Jiwoo revealed, and the boys laughed a little. "She'll never show it, but when more than three crows are around, she runs for her life."
"Ah, I haven't ever noticed," Yeosang said, rubbing his chin, "she can hide it really well."
"Tell us some ghost story," Wooyoung asked. He was clearly enjoying this.
"I have a good one!" Jiwoo exclaimed and everyone seemed to scoot closer. "There was once a boy about her age who had the most stupid reason to not move on."
San almost stopped as he narrowed his eyes at Jiwoo and she assured him it was not Joon Hyuk. So San told the boys, and asked them to guess.
"He wanted an adventure too?" Yeosang laughed.
Jiwoo pouted, but said it could fall in that category, but it was a different sort of adventure. She told them to let their imagination run wild.
As San told the boys, Seohyun decided this was her cue to interrupt. "We are NOT going to talk about that!"
Wooyoung screamed a little in surprise. "Weren't you listening to music?!"
Jiwoo was just laughing and Seohyun bared her teeth at her, making everyone laugh and wonder just what sort of adventure did the boy want. After a hundred pleads from the boys, Seohyun finally told them that it didn't actually happen; she just threatened the ghost in unimaginable ways, making him move on without his desire.
"I think I have an idea of what happened," Yeosang thought, amusement in his eyes, "But I am too afraid to voice it out."
"I think you got it then," Seohyun nodded in approval and Yeosang gaped at her.
"You got it tough, friend," he said, patting her shoulder to comfort her. San and Wooyoung were pouting very loudly, and Seonghwa just stared at Yeosang and Seohyun as understanding passed between them.
"You both are so weird," Seonghwa finally said.
"If I tell you, Seonghwa, you'll drown in shame. Better protect your ears and your pure mind," Seohyun grinned.
San and Wooyoung exchanged glances, frowning, but they shook their head. It couldn't be that bad. Could it?
Seohyun plugged her earphones again, deciding she'd take a nap and actually played music this time.
-----------
"We're here!"
Seonghwa shook her awake, and Seohyun slowly opened her eyes, her hand going in front of her eyes as she blocked the sunlight. She took off her earphones and the sound of waves hit her, making her smile. She adjusted her green dress that reached below her knees, and put her hat on.
She saw that Jiwoo was already out, running along the beach, and San was watching her with a smile on his face. He turned back, meeting eyes with Seohyun, who suddenly felt out of breath.
San was handsome- painfully handsome. And the plain white shirt he wore didn't help. His hair was flying due to the breeze and he ran a hand through them, cocking his head to the side as he watched her.
The sun making his skin glow didn't help either.
Seohyun cleared her throat and joined him, and they both watched Jiwoo, in her jeans and green T shirt that she had died in- her permanent outfit, running as freely as she could, her red hair flowing behind her, her laugh ringing in the air.
"I didn't know she'd be that happy to see the beach. Hasn't she been here before?" Seohyun asked.
"I think she has. She knew the way. And I'm almost suspicious she's doing this just to annoy you," San answered.
As if on cue, Jiwoo stopped, doing a weird dance, then started twerking-
"And that's our cue to look away," Seohyun grabbed San, now laughing, by his arm and went to join the others. "They didn't have to come. They can't see her."
"We figured out a way to enjoy with her even if we can't see her," San smirked.
And that was how, a few moments later, they all were assembled in a circle playing cards.
"Why do I think San and Seohyun are cheating on us with Jiwoo?" Yunho looked at them suspiciously.
"How do you think the cards are in the air?" Seohyun asked, and Yunho grinned. She had a point. To anyone who could not see Jiwoo, it would look like a bunch of cards were in the air.
"I WON!" Jiwoo smacked the final card and jumped in the air. Seohyun gaped at her.
"You cheated!" She shouted.
"I was sitting with you the whole time, don't give me that shit," Jiwoo smirked.
San told them that she had, indeed, won without cheating and everybody groaned. Mingi dragged the food basket and him and Jongho started spreading the food.
"Can she really not eat?" Jongho asked.
"I'm afraid not," Seohyun answered.
"Isn't it rude to eat in front of a ghost?" Jiwoo put her hands on her hip and Seohyun popped a cherry in her mouth, saying, "It is."
San scoffed. Jiwoo kicked Seohyun's leg lightly and said she was going to walk. The rest of them started to eat.
"I heard the sunset here is very pretty," Seonghwa said.
"I've been here before," Mingi took a bite of his sandwich, "It really is the prettiest."
After eating a little, Seohyun looked in the distance where Jiwoo was standing near the shore, the waves flowing near her. Jiwoo looked back and started walking towards them, then stopped halfway and gestured at them to come.
"She's calling us," San said, and they all got up, joining Jiwoo.
"I want to play in the water," Jiwoo said.
"What's stopping you?" Seohyun asked.
"With you all, you dumbass," Jiwoo laughed and took her hand, leading her to the shore.
"Hey, hey, easy there," Seohyun laughed and let out a little yelp as the waves hit her bare feet. "The water is so cold!"
Jiwoo bent down and sprayed the water on Seohyun, smirking.
"Oh no, you did not!" Seohyun bent down and sprayed back before she could run. And so started a battle of getting each other wet. They all forgot all their worries for a while, running around in the waves, laughing as loudly as they could, laughing even louder when one of them got Jiwoo. By the time it got darker, they were all quite wet.
Yunho and Yeosang ran back to get towels for everyone, throwing them one each, and wondering if Jiwoo should have a towel. Seohyun said there was no need, but Jiwoo snatched hers once she was done.
"The sunset's here, guys," Yeosang said.
They all stood silently, side by side, watching the sky change to brilliant shades of candy, the sun reflecting on the sea. It was breathtakingly beautiful. At some point, Jiwoo crossed her hand with Seohyun's, and she turned to look at her face. Her red hair shone brightly and her eyes were wet.
"I want it to be the last thing that I see before I go," Jiwoo almost whispered. Seohyun's heart sank in her knees. It was really happening.
Jiwoo looked at San and smiled widely, San smiled back and waved at her. Jiwoo asked him to tell everyone that she was thanking them for doing so much for her. They all assured her it was nothing, and said they were gonna miss her.
San looked at Seohyun, nodding and urged the others to come with him. Only Jiwoo and Seohyun remained now, facing the sunset.
"It's really happening," Jiwoo finally said. A cry of pain escaped Seohyun's mouth. She couldn't take it anymore. Jiwoo rubbed her hand comfortingly, making her face herself. "You've given me an adventure. The time I spent with you, that was enough. Today was for you, Seohyun."
"Are you serious?" Seohyun asked.
Jiwoo nodded. "I told everyone it was for me, but no. It was for you. A gift for helping me out so much. For being a friend. A little sister that I always wanted."
Seohyun smiled sadly, "I'm gonna miss you so, so much. I got used to you, I shouldn't have."
"I know," Jiwoo smiled, kissing her forehead and wrapping her in a hug. Seohyun closed her eyes and inhaled. "Don't cry on me right now, Seohyun."
Seohyun laughed a little. "I'm trying not to, you're making it harder by reminding me!" She opened her eyes and saw the boys, watching them from a distance.
"I hope you'll open your heart more, Seohyun. That's my last wish. You had a tough life, but you have so many people, dead and alive, who love you. I hope you remember that, always."
"Unnie..." A tear escaped Seohyun.
Jiwoo watched the sunset, Seohyun in her arms, and it was perfect.
She closed her eyes.
----------------
Seohyun felt it, felt her presence fade away. She was no longer hugging Jiwoo. She stood for a few seconds before finally collapsing on the sand and she shuddered as tears began to flow. She put her face in her hands and cried her heart out.
The boys approached her, sitting around her, rubbing her back, telling her that it was okay. She just cried and cried, and she knew she was letting go of Joon Hyuk along with Jiwoo too. The proper goodbye that she had so badly wanted, she finally got it.
San put her arms around her and brought her closer, caressing her hair. After a few minutes, she was out of tears. She let her hair cover her face as she rested her head on San's shoulder, trying to normalize her breath.
Jongho handed her a water bottle. She managed a smile and took a few sips, rubbing her eyes. The boys looked at each other. They weren't sure what they should do next.
"God damn me if I ever befriend a ghost again," Seohyun said and finally laughed, making everyone else laugh along.
"Are you okay?" Hongjoong asked.
"Yes, I am, actually," she said, wiping her eyes again. "I'm done crying for a while now." Her eyes went to San, who understood and smiled.
"Alright, let's get some dinner."
-----------
The driver had dropped Seohyun home now, and was on the way to drop the rest of them. As Seohyun entered her home, it felt strange. She felt utterly alone now that she knew Jiwoo wasn't gonna be back ever.
She tried to recall the time, only a few months ago, when she hadn't met Jiwoo yet. What did she even do in her spare time? She could not remember.
Seohyun went in her room and changed into her PJs first. After she combed her hair and scrolled a bit, she got up to turn off the light and saw something lying on her desk.
It was a painting. Of Jiwoo and her, cheek to cheek, smiling, the black cat in their arms. Seohyun gasped a little and examined it. It was really well drawn. Who made it?
She turned the page and saw something written on the back of it:
Seohyun,
I remember now that I loved painting. Since we don't have any photos, I captured us in this painting. Now you have a photo!
Love always, Jiwoo unnie ^^
Seohyun laughed a little as she read how she had addressed herself. "I guess you really liked being called unnie," she thought out loud.
She set the painting on her bookshelf. After being content with its position, she turned off the light, and slept surprisingly peacefully throughout the night.
------------
"I swear to god if you don't make fun of me when I do something stupid, I'm never gonna talk to you all again."
"Well, that's new," Yeosang commented, "You're begging for it now."
"Better that then you all being like this!" Seohyun let out a frustrated sigh.
The boys were being ridiculously sensitive with Seohyun, and she was feeling absolutely uncomfortable. She hadn't noticed it the first two days, but then she noticed in the little things; how they'd always offer her food before eating themselves, how they'd always accompany her, etc. She had enough of the special treatment.
"You're acting like someone died," Seohyun said.
"Back at it with the dead jokes are you?" San shook his head.
"Technically, Jiwoo was dead," Jongho remarked.
"So did she die twice then?" Mingi wondered.
"Oh please," Seohyun sighed again, "I just want you all to act like we used to. No more special treatment. Please, this makes it worse. I'm already at terms with Jiwoo going. It was bound to happen."
"Alright, alright," Seonghwa said and shushed her. "We didn't know what else we could do. Back to normal, okay?"
"Thank you," Seohyun truly meant it. "Also, I think I'm ready to share my drums." The boys hooted except one.
"Are you angry?" Mingi asked. Seohyun immediately turned to San, who was suddenly interested in Wooyoung's fingernails.
"Now I am," Seohyun muttered, and San smiled without meeting her eyes. The teacher came and interrupted their session, so they went back to studying.
After school was over, the boys decided to go to their warehouse, while Seohyun asked if anyone would help her bring the drums. San volunteered and they walked to her home, the black cat in San's hand.
As they walked, talking about how it looked like the cat missed Jiwoo, San stopped in his tracks. "I think you have a guest."
Seohyun looked ahead and saw a middle aged man dressed like a doctor. He was a ghost. Seohyun shared a look with San and went ahead.
"How can I help you?" Seohyun asked. The ghost got startled when he saw that San could see him too.
Jiwoo had once explained that to ghosts, Seohyun shined a little brighter than the rest of the humans, which was how they knew. Seohyun had just thought she was crazy but now she realized, now that she was with San, that it must be true.
Or maybe Jiwoo hadn't been joking that one time when she said there was a banner on top of her head and every ghost could see it, only Seohyun couldn't.
"I was told you'd help me," the doctor said. Seohyun nodded and he continued. "I made a mistake. I operated on a patient and it went wrong. It was my fault. The patient lost his vision. They were going to sue me, but when I tried to settle it, we had an argument. They gave up on suing me, saying I wasn't even worth the trouble.
"It was a few days later. I went into a slump and started drinking a lot. I was on the roof of the hospital and it wasn't my intention, but I slipped. That's how I died."
"I'm sorry to hear that," Seohyun said, "How can I help you move on then?"
"I want to let the patient know that I truly am sorry, and I want to let my family, just my family know that it wasn't a suicide. I wouldn't leave them behind on purpose."
"But... isn't it easier for your family this way? Than knowing that you are now a ghost? That it wasn't an accident?"
"I think," San began, "that he's right. It's more easier for them if they know he didn't commit suicide. They'd feel really bad if they think he left them on purpose. No one wants that from the people they love."
The doctor smiled thankfully at San. "I'll take you to the patient first," he said and asked if he should teleport the two of them.
"Do you want to come? You don't have to," Seohyun said.
San stroked the cat's head. "I want to."
"I don't know if it's safe for San to teleport. So we'll take the mundane route. Lead the way, sir."
"It's quite a distance. I hope you have money for taxi," the doctor said.
On the way to the patient's house, they had a nice chat with the doctor. He told them about his life, back when he was famous for being a good surgeon. He had never made a mistake and he had always held pride in that. But with this particular patient, he took a risk he knew he shouldn't have.
He told them he had a 10 year old daughter and he wanted her to become a doctor too. He wanted her to know that it was good to save people, and she shouldn't be afraid to take risks but also be careful at the same time and know her limits.
Seohyun was actually touched by the whole thing. It was good to have ghosts like these once in a while; nice, well-mannered ghosts.
They reached the patient's house. It was in a posh area; the patient himself must be rich. The house looked more like a mansion from the outside. Upon ringing the doorbell, a woman appeared, who the doctor told them was his wife. She seemed to be past 50s.
"We're relatives of Dr. Lee, the one who operated on your husband. We're here to discuss things about the case."
The woman passed them a skeptical look, "The doctor passed away, didn't he? We gave up on the case altogether. What do you want now?"
"We just want to talk to Mr. Cho. It's important. Please."
The woman let them in, guided them to the chairs in the garden and said she'd bring her husband. San and her sat down, admiring the lush gardens. The doctor paced worriedly.
"It will be alright. I have a way with words," Seohyun assured the doctor.
The husband and wife arrived; San and Seohyun got up and greeted them respectfully. "I am Seohyun, Dr. Lee's distant relative. This is San, my cousin."
"Have a seat," he said and they all settled down, including the wife. Seohyun sighed and decided she'd get to the point.
"Dr. Lee made a mistake. You must know that," Seohyun said. The wife looked at her husband worriedly.
"So he says," Mr. Cho said, staring in the distance.
"He wants to apologize, sincerely. I'll get to the point. He's here right now. I can see ghosts, the dead who have not moved on. He had unfinished business here, because he wanted to sincerely apologize. He won't be able to move on until he hears your forgiveness."
"Is this a prank?" Mrs. Cho asked, but Mr. Cho shushed her.
"I hope you can prove he's here," Mr. Cho said.
"Dr. Lee told you about some ginseng plant right before you went under anesthesia. No one was there when he told you, right?"
"That's true," Mr. Cho smiled. His wife began to complain but he raised a hand. "That's interesting. My father had a friend. He could see ghosts too. Are you the Mediator?"
San and Seohyun looked at each other in surprise. "That's what they call me, yes."
Mr. Cho laughed a little. "I used to not believe my father and that friend of his for the longest time, until I saw something and couldn't believe my eyes. That's why I believe you too, girl. You're doing a good job."
"Thank you," Seohyun said.
"So Dr. Lee is here? I can speak directly to him?"
"Yes sir."
"Alright. Dr. Lee, it was your fault, I know. But I truly forgive you. There are things we cannot avoid. We call it fate or destiny. What's bound to happen, fortune or misfortune, happens and you cannot avoid it. That's what I believe. I want you to move on, without the burden of my accident holding you back. You didn't do it on purpose, and that is enough for me."
Tears escaped Mrs. Cho's eyes and she wiped them. Seohyun muttered to San, 'wise man', and they watched Dr. Lee's eyes shine with tears to as he said his apology and thanks. Seohyun conveyed the message.
They were offered tea, but Seohyun told them they had to get home. The man offered to help Seohyun out if she ever had trouble with this Mediator job. She accepted, saying she would pay a visit someday.
The three of them left the house, standing in the street and reflecting on what had happened.
"That went rather smoothly," Seohyun commented.
"I know!" San widened his eyes at her.
"Thank you, Seohyun. It really does feel like a burden off my shoulder."
"No problem, we should move now. What's the next job?"
"I don't think I can see them like this," the doctor said. "I love my daughter and my wife very much. Seeing them would want me to stay. Do you think I can write a letter to my wife? You can give it to her tomorrow."
"Will your wife believe that it was really written by you?"
"We had a secret code between us; we created it. If I mention it in the letter, she'll have to believe it. And she'll recognize my handwriting too."
San and Seohyun decided that was convenient, and Seohyun handed the doctor a pen and paper. He wrote a short one, muttering something about how the less he wrote the better it would be. Then he folded it and handed it to Seohyun.
"I trust you. You'll give the letter tomorrow, right? I wrote the address on the other page."
"I will deliver it personally."
"Thank you," the doctor smiled. "Do you think I'll be able to watch over my daughter?"
"Maybe you will," Seohyun said.
"Guardian angel," San added, making the doctor smile as he disappeared. He had moved on.
"Well," Seohyun said, "That was quick. I love it when ghosts are wise enough to actually know how to handle their mess."
San scoffed. "Let's go."
-------------
Grabbing some coffee from a café they passed by, they took a taxi to Seohyun's home. Seohyun insisted that they should eat before they packed the drums and go to the warehouse. San helped her set the table. She had made pasta last night, which she reheated, and had some chocolates for dessert.
"Does your mom ever come home?" San asked as he nibbled on the chocolate.
Seohyun yawned. San reflected. They both were tired and sleepy now. "She has an apartment near her office so she only comes once a week here."
San yawned again and Seohyun laughed. "Should I let you nap?"
San smiled lazily. "Let's just pack the drums while you're still angry. I don't want you to change your mind."
Seohyun threw the wrapper at him and he caught it before it hit his face, throwing it right back. She dodged it. "Come on, let's dismantle it."
It took them ten minutes to dismantle and pack the drums. But it was already night time, and the boys had locked the warehouse and gone home when San asked them.
"Well, I'll call them here tomorrow. They should take it if they want it so much."
"Good idea." San said, yawning again.
"I think if I let you go home now, you're gonna fall asleep in the middle of the road. Take a power nap, San."
"Oh no, I shouldn't. I'll just go," he said and walked past her, only to be grabbed by the arms and led to a room despite him insisting he was not THAT sleepy.
San entered the room and immediately knew it was Seohyun's. The potted plants, the books, the mess. And the painting.
"So that's the painting, eh," he said, walking towards it and looking at the detail, absolutely wowed by it.
"How do you know? I don't think I mentioned," Seohyun narrowed her eyes.
"Jiwoo told me she left a gift for you," he smiled. Seohyun went to stand with him, looking at the painting with him.
"She's really good," she said.
San looked down at her. She felt so small; he was about a head taller than her. He turned towards her, his hand going to play with her hair. "You're really okay, right?"
"I am, San," Seohyun assured him. "I do feel lonely when I'm home, but you guys make up for it everyday."
San nodded. He was still playing with her hair. Seohyun suddenly flushed; they were standing quite close to each other. San noticed her looking at him, her light brown eyes shining.
He seemed to be searching her eyes for something. And Seohyun wasn't sure what it was, but she felt her heart pumping louder every second. She was, oh god, she was so attracted to him. He made her feel so many things just by looking at her.
"What are you looking at?" Seohyun asked- almost whispered.
"You," San said, bringing his hand to cup her face, surprised when she leaned in to his touch and closed her eyes. It made him melt. He brought her in for a hug and she gladly wrapped her arms around his waist, his small waist. She could hear his heart beat just as loudly. San rested his face on her head, rocking them back and forth. He didn't want to let go, he wanted to stay like this as long as he could.
Seohyun sighed. All she could think about was how he felt. Her mind was truly blank.
San finally broke apart a little, Seohyun's arms still around his waist. He was staring at her, his hands cupping her face, putting stray hair behind her ears. Seohyun wanted to do the same to him, but at the same time she didn't want to let go of him.
"Seohyun, Seohyun," he whispered, loving the sound of her name on his lips. She bit her lip. It seemed like they just stared at each other for the longest time, afraid to say anything, until Seohyun smiled at the situation.
San kissed her forehead first, a light peck. When she didn't move away, he tilted her face a bit upwards to kiss her cheekbone, then her cheek, leaving butterfly kisses, making her tremble all over. She clenched his shirt tighter, out of breath already. Their noses brushed and she loved the feeling of it, his breath warm on her. And when their lips brushed, San finally kissed her properly.
And Seohyun's mind went blank.
San's hand went behind her neck and Seohyun finally left his waist, only to cup his face herself as she guided him along. They tasted chocolate on each other. Seohyun was deepening the kiss, she just couldn't get enough. San mirrored her movements, following along, making her bend backwards until her back hit the desk and her hand went to rest on it for support.
San broke apart to catch his breath. His eyes were glazed, and so were Seohyun's. He put his hand on Seohyun's, the one that was on the desk, and with a sultry look and half a smile, he kissed her again, so passionately that it made Seohyun curve back and back until San was half on top of her.
When they broke apart, finally short of breath, Seohyun smirked. "I thought you were sleepy."
"I still am," he said, resting her forehead against her and smiling, eyes shut.
Seohyun lead him to her bed, making him sit. She bit her lip and smirked as she positioned herself on San's lap. San held her by her waist and let her kiss him; on his cheeks, like he had done, a peck on his nose which made him laugh, and finally a kiss to the lips.
"God, the way you make me feel, Choi San!" She sighed dramatically.
"And how do I make you feel?" He questioned. Seohyun shook her head. "I'll tell you later. Now we sleep."
San set his alarm for a power nap and with Seohyun in her arms, they both slept peacefully. When the alarm did go off, Seohyun didn't budge. With a kiss on her forehead, he left the house.
----------
"There's something wrong with Seohyun," Yeosang announced and everyone turned to look at him.
"There's more?" Wooyoung asked sarcastically and Seohyun glared at him, turning to look at Yeosang, asking him what he meant by that.
"I don't know," Yeosang threw his hands in the air, clearly frustrated, "She keeps smiling to herself. It's creepy."
Seohyun and San shared a look and San, despite his struggle not to, burst out laughing. Seohyun pursed her lips, trying not to smile but failed.
"See?" Yeosang pointed at her, "Has she ever smiled like this?"
Wooyoung was looking at San and Seohyun. "You both.... Is there a secret I don't know about!?"
"I don't have secrets anymore..." Seohyun lied shamelessly, shrugging. San put his hands in the air and said, "I only laughed because of what Yeosang said."
"No, you're looking at each other with the most disgusting look in your eyes," Yeosang observed, "Don't tell me you two..."
"Ah, no, that cannot have happened!" Hongjoong waved him off as Seonghwa gasped.
"How could you even suggest such a thing?" Seonghwa shook his head, clearly disappointed in Yeosang.
"No, I didn't even say anything yet..." Yeosang looked at Seohyun to apologize but she smirked at him, making his eyes go wide.
"I am RIGHT! Something happened between these two, she smirked at me!"
Seohyun immediately put her poker face and looked at Mingi and Jongho, who were right in front of her, with the most innocent look in her eyes. "Did you see me smirk?"
Mingi and Jongho shook their heads. Yeosang shot Seohyun a glare. "I know I'm right. If this turns out to be true..."
"Stop being so dramatic," San said, shushing Yeosang, and got up to drink water.
They were all in the warehouse, having just left school, and were currently relaxing and drinking juice, chatting with each other. Yeosang had noticed Seohyun smiling more than usual, which made him think something happened. It didn't help that San and Seohyun couldn't stop exchanging glances.
Seohyun had brought the drum set with Yunho before coming to the warehouse. Seohyun motioned to Mingi and they got up, leaving the rest behind.
"Have you ever played drums before? Like, actual drums?"
"Yeah," Mingi answered, "A friend of mine had them."
"Alright, you should learn how to arrange them."
So Seohyun taught Mingi all about the components of a drum set, their various uses and how to dismantle them and put them back. Mingi listened carefully, and Seohyun smiled inwardly at how happy he looked. It made her feel guilty that she delayed it so much.
When they were done, they stood back to have a look.
"A much needed upgrade," Mingi smiled, ruffling Seohyun's hair, "Thanks."
"This drum set is my baby, okay? Use it well."
"Yes ma'am," Mingi saluted and Seohyun pointed at the drums. "Have a go."
Mingi sat on the stool, testing the weight of the drum sticks in his hand. He tested the sounds then, and played a little, freestyling, laughing as he did. The others had come to watch him, cheering and hyping him up.
"Not bad," Seohyun said when he finished, "Just go with your heart. Don't think."
"Your turn," Mingi handed her the drum sticks and she almost panicked.
"I think I'm good," she hesitated but someone pushed her forward. It was Yunho.
"I didn't go through all that trouble of coming to your house and carrying the drums to not see you play," he shook his head.
"Alright. Just a second," Seohyun said, tying her hair in a ponytail. "There you go."
Everyone hooted, clearly excited. This was the first time she was going to actually play in front of them, save for the time she had played the violin for San. San smiled at her as if he was thinking the same thing. Seohyun inhaled, testing the drums, and began.
She realized she really did enjoy playing the drums; there was just something about drums where you could express freely, and loudly, as if you wanted everyone to hear it. And it made her smile like crazy, put her brain on pause for a while and play with her heart.
She played like crazy, and when she was done, everyone was in awe.
"You're actually very good!" Hongjoong said, finally clapping. Seohyun bowed her head and got up. "I didn't expect this."
"It's like she was a different person," Jongho was looking at her with wonder.
"Teacher! you're my teacher from today," Mingi declared, and Seohyun scoffed at him.
"You don't need a teacher, teach yourself. I know you can."
"Nooo~" he wailed, "I would love you as a teacher!"
Seohyun just waved him off, going to San and smiling embarrassingly at him. He pinched her cheeks and she pouted, the two of them forgetting for a moment that everyone was still watching her.
"You two... there is something different!" Jongho laughed in disbelief. San and Seohyun started laughing. Yeosang just shook hands with Jongho, thanking him for finally noticing.
"They're not even bothering to deny it, guys," Yunho grinned.
"San is mine!" Wooyoung shouted dramatically, coming to hug San, sticking his tongue out at Seohyun. Seohyun glared at him, baring her teeth at him, and snatched San from him. Wooyoung gasped, and suddenly the two of them were in a battle, both pulling at San by his arms, who was laughing painfully, shouting for help.
"He's not even choosing!" Seohyun laughed, and winked at Wooyoung as she said, "Let's ditch him."
Wooyoung pushed San away, rather forcefully, who fell in Yeosang's arms. He put his arm in Seohyun and she flipped her hair as they walked away from him.
"No one loves me," San buried his nose in Yeosang's neck, pouting. Yeosang sighed, patting his head.
"You're right," Yeosang said, "Absolutely right."
"Hey..." San moaned like a little kid.
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#choi san#choi san au#choi san x reader#choi san imagines#choi san angst#choi san fluff#choi san scenarios#san x reader#ateez au#ateez angst#ateez fluff#ateez scenarios#ateez imagines#ateez fic#ateez x reader#hongjoong#seonghwa#yunho#yeosang#san#mingi#wooyoung#jongho#choi san smut
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Thirteen - JJ Maybank
Request: hi! could you write an imagine where jj and the reader are really close and when they are starting to hook up for the first time and y/n gets scared bc of her past. She has a flashback and JJ helps her. She is reluctant and denies that anything is wrong. But finally she admits to jj that it’s not him and he’s super sweet and protective?
TW: Very brief contextual mention of sexual assault to a minor.
Outer Banks Masterlist
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A knock sounded on the bathroom door as you sat on the edge of John B’s tub, head in your hands as you tried not to cry. Not today, not after all this time. You knew who was knocking but you didn’t have it in you to answer. Partially from embarrassment, (had you really just up and ran into the bathroom in the middle of making out?) and partially from the residual and everlasting pit in the bottom of your stomach that threatened to swallow you whole every time you felt even the smallest bit of happiness seep in.
“Do you...should I go?” JJ’s voice followed his usual three-in-a-row rapping pattern on the wooden door. Like a code you didn’t need to tell you it was just him outside. No one to be afraid of.
“No,” you shook your head even though he couldn’t see it, looking at the mirror across from you, a silver of forehead reflecting in the glass at your current height. “No, sorry, I’ll be right out.”
“Don’t apologise,” JJ replied hastily, running a hand through his hair. He wasn’t trying to make you feel like you had to rush out, he just wanted to make sure you were okay. He wasn’t exactly world class at comforting people though, “Are you alright? Do you want me to call Kie or something?”
“No.” That was the last thing you wanted. Then your friends would be up in your business and you loved them, truly, but you didn’t need them interfering in whatever was happening between you and JJ. Or not happening, at this point.
“Is there, I mean...is there anything I can do?” He asked, pacing the small area around the bathroom door, staring at the pictures Big John had on the wall. “We can talk or something.”
You sighed, standing up and getting a full view of yourself in the mirror. “Yeah. Okay.”
The bathroom door opened and JJ stood up straight, back hovering against the wall opposite you, as if he was afraid of what would come out. It was just you though, looking a little worse for wear, as if you’d encountered a ghost somewhere between the pull-out couch and the bathroom. And, to be fair, you had. A ghost that looked a lot like you only younger, maybe a little more naive, and scared. You walked out of the bathroom slowly, reminding yourself over and over that the boy your ghost was afraid of wasn’t here and it was JJ, looking sweet and sympathetic and a little scared himself, that was standing across from you.
“Hey, uh....here,” he led the way into the living room, moving aside the old comforter for you to sit on the pull-out, “you can sit.”
You chewed at your lower lip as you sat there on the side of the bed, thigh pressed against the arm of the couch, staring at JJ who was still standing, rubbing at his arms the way he did when he was nervous, “You don’t have to be weird JJ...I didn’t mean to freak out.”
You couldn’t help the guilty feeling gnawing at you. It’d been a perfectly good afternoon until your meltdown. John B was out and JJ invited you over because, truthfully, things between the two of you had been changing. A little more than friends, it had been a long time since you had trusted yourself with letting a crush be anything more than a crush. But JJ was different, you had always been honest with each other and he had trusted you with his dad. You knew you could let him in, it was just the doing so that felt like an insurmountable hill.
“It’s cool. I just,” JJ shrugged, sitting down beside you but keeping a person sized distance between your body and his. “I just don’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”
“It wasn’t you.” You clarified though you hoped he already knew that.
“Are you...okay? I mean, can I do anything?” JJ asked, teetering on the edge of wanting so desperately to help but also wanting to call anyone else in the world who would be better at this then he was.
“It’s just-“ You thought about how to tell him so that he understood, how to make it sound so that he didn’t treat you like some sort of leper when he found out, “you know when you told me about your dad...”
“Yeah.”
God, he would remember that for the rest of his life. The way you looked so upset when you thought he’d been picking a fight with Rafe or Kelce only to have him say that it was his dad. The way you looked, so horrified and angry, like you were going to march over there and beat the crap out of Luke Maybank yourself. JJ had half a mind to think that you could’ve if you really wanted to.
“That’s, I feel like that.” You replied, thinking of the way he looked when he told you, that pain like a piece of broken glass wedges into his heart.
“Is someone hurting you?” He paled as his eyes met yours. Immediately running through every possible candidate in his mind.
“No, no.” You shook your head, not anymore. “I’m, I just don’t want you to think of me any differently.”
“I wouldn’t.”
“Yeah but-“ you started to say but JJ shook his head, cutting you off.
“No, seriously. I wouldn’t. Whatever it is you can tell me.” He replied. He waved his hand between the two of you as he continued, “this is a judgement free zone.”
“Yeah okay.” You nodded.
“What’s going on?”
“It’s just...I haven’t really...done this before.” You replied. It was a complicated truth and you were trying your best to get it out, to explain something you’d never explained before. “Well,”
“Hey, it’s okay.” JJ scooted closer finally and you found a small piece of you immediately comforted by the feeling of his hand against your back, “Is it okay if I touch you?”
You nodded your head, moving your leg so your knee brushed his as id to silently confirm that it was okay.
“I guess...” you tried to think of the words to say as you started to talk, “when I was 13 I had the biggest crush on my friend’s brother. I thought he was so cool. And he talked to me, ya know...like made me feel special. On day when I was over their house he told me he liked me a lot and that if I liked him I should...show him.” You took a deep breath, trying to ground yourself again.
Trying not to run for the bathroom and lock yourself inside. This was JJ. Funny, dumb, always high JJ, who tried to do party tricks to impress you at the risk of breaking a bone. Who lied through his teeth to buy a keg the week before while you sat in the driver’s side of your jeep honking the horn at him so many times the guy in the shop sold the keg just to get you to leave. JJ who always made sure you were okay any time you were feeling nervous.
You pushed on, “I just really wanted him to like me and I didn’t want to do that but I felt like I had to. And I haven’t been with anyone since then cause-“
“Hey, it’s okay. We don’t have to do anything, at all.” JJ stressed, his hand rubbing warm circles on your back. He leaned over and kissed your exposed shoulder, so gently you almost swore it was your imagination, “Whatever you want, I’m happy just hanging out like we always do.”
“I know you are. I just, I like you but I just feel like, I’m not sure...how to be with someone.” You didn’t even think you were making sense at this point but he didn’t seemed fazed. “It feels, it doesn’t feel like I think it should.”
“Maybe that’s like, you telling yourself you aren’t ready for that yet.” JJ replied, unsure if he was even doing this comforting thing right.
“Yeah but you’ve been with like, a ton of girls before.” You weren’t naive enough to think that JJ had never hooked up with the girls he hung around at parties, you knew that was pretty much all he did.
“So what? That doesn’t have anything to do with this.” He insisted.
“If that’s true then I should be fine.” You argued. If he could just move on and not think about or compare you to anyone he’d ever been with then you shouldn’t still be carrying this weight. You didn’t even want it.
“That’s different, someone hurt you.” He replied, “Yeah I’ve had sex before but, both of us wanted it. What your friend’s brother did wasn’t anything like that.”
“I just don’t want you to think I’m messed up or something,” you explained. “or that you want something I can’t give you yet.”
JJ frowned at the sentiment, the last thing he would ever want is for you to feel any kind of pressure. From him, yourself, or anyone else, “I don’t care about that. And hey, we agreed, no judgement.”
“Yeah I know but-“
“No. When I told you about my dad, that was really hard but you didn’t bail on me or make me feel weak. This is me doing the same for you.” He replied. “Forget dating or whatever, this is me and you alright. Best friends before anything else. What happened wasn’t your fault and it doesn’t change the way I feel about you at all. Don’t think that it does.”
“Okay.”
“That was a half-ass okay.” JJ replied, his shoulder knocking against yours.
“It’s the best okay I can offer.”
“How about, we just watch something? John B’s not back for another couple of hours.” He suggested, getting up and climbing onto the bed, the springs creaking as they buckled under his weight. You twisted to watch him as he made himself comfortable, spreading out with his back against the cushions and his arms out on either side. “We can even take a nap.”
You kneeled up onto the bed and crawled over to him, careful as you laid down beside him and rested your head against his shoulder. His arm came around to drape over you and you reached up to hold his hand. “You got a full eight hours last night, how are you still tired?” You asked, the mood lightening significantly as you relaxed with him, “What would you have done if we had actually had sex?”
“Fallen asleep on you.” He replied, shrugging as if it was the obvious answer, “You would have asphyxiated cause I would’ve crushed you to death.”
“You’ve been hanging out with Pope too long, you actually know what that word means.”
“Are you saying I’m not smart enough to know things without hanging out with Pope?” He asked, sitting up a little more to look at you.
“No, I’m just saying Pope is smarter than you,” you almost shrieked as he tackled you against the cushions, fingers prodding your sides over your tank top. “Oh my god, JJ! Stop, you know I’m ticklish!”
“Not until you admit that I’m the smartest person you know.”
“Yes, yes, okay, you JJ Maybank are the smartest person I know,” you laughed as he stopped tickling you, hands holding your sides as he leant over you and placed a kiss on your forehead.
“Good,” He replied, “you admit the truth. Now, let’s watch something happy.”
-
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Follow My Lead | Tom Hiddleston x OFC | Chapter 13 | I gave him a choice, he wanted to wear it
A/N: So this is the last chapter of the main story for Tom and Vivian. But not the last I am sure we will see of them. Thank you for all the wonderful support for these two!
MASTERLIST HERE
Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x OFC (Vivian Swann)
Summary: Tom and Vivian have both been unlucky in love, searching for something outside of the bounds of a typical relationship. When the two of them connect via a dating app, Tom is introduced to the idea of being submissive to Vivian. Which is the one thing he never knew he needed. Under the firm hand of Vivian, Tom learns what it means to submit and Vivian learns what it means to be in a loving dominant relationship. But not everyone seems to understand what they have and the best intentions can destroy the strongest relationship.
This Chapter: With the air cleared, Tom and Vivian continues to move forward in their relationship.
Warnings for story: Dominant/submissive relationship (sub!Tom), lots of smut including but not limited to: vaginal sex, oral sex (male and female receiving), edging, denial, teasing, use of restraints, spanking, multiple orgasm, anal play, use of toys.
Tag Lists Are Open! Let me know if you want to be added. Thank you for reading!
1 Year Later
“Does this get any easier?” Vivian leaned to whisper to Sophie as they made their way to their seats in the audience.
“No. The press junket is the worst.” Sophie squeezed her arm. “But this one is much more bearable with you here.”
“That goes double for me.” Vivian smiled.
“Tom, is he…” Sophie raised a knowing eyebrow.
“I gave him a choice, he wanted to wear it.” Vivian shrugged her shoulders. “Ben, still being a brat?”
Sophie rolled her eyes. “Yes. We can discuss that later. I need punishment ideas.”
Vivian smirked. Sophie and Ben had been exploring their own relationship dynamics over the last several months. Both of them knew Tom and Ben were trading notes and so they did likewise. “I’ll think about and text you some thoughts. Something Tom wouldn’t have warned him about.” They both giggled.
The past year had been hectic. The kitchen remodel took twice as long as Vivian hoped, forcing the two of them to eat out more than both wanted to. While the speculation regarding Tom and her relationship status died down significantly after Luke made a statement denying any secret marriage ceremonies, but it never really went away. She grew used to the stares and mutters and closed up her circle of friends and family in response after Ashley spilled that Tom and her met on an online dating site, effectively ending their friendship. Vivian found solace in her new friendship with Sophie, who understood better than anyone her unusual life circumstances. And life with Tom was as exciting as ever, especially with introducing new toys in the bedroom and elsewhere.
The two of them settled into their seats in the front row and waited for the show to start. Vivian beamed as both Tom and Benedict were introduced onto the stage to promote the newest Marvel film. Tom’s hair was longer, and he grew the beard back. He smiled at Vivian as he caught her eye in the audience. She recognized that smirk; he was up to something. And she was certain that something did not include the cage he was sporting under his navy double breasted suit. No one could tell unless they were looking for it. Tom had gotten good at hiding it.
“Now, Tom,” the interviewer leaned in after he asked several questions about the film to both Tom and Benedict. “your love life has been quite the subject of the papers this past year.”
Tom’s cheeks reddened, and Vivian’s fists clenched. “So it would seem. I try to not pay too much attention, Graham.”
“Well, I can imagine with such a stunning woman taking up all your attention.” Graham flashed the picture from the day Tom suggested she move in together. “Vivian, right?”
Tom nodded. “Yup.”
“Is it true the two of you met on a dating site?”
Tom blushed at the question. An old one at this point. They both rehearsed an answer for such an occasion.
“I don’t comment on the specifics of my relationship, Graham.”
“But I do!” Ben interjected. Tom frowned at him. Vivian’s eyes cut to Sophie, whose face was frozen in panic. “And I can say their relationship…” Ben glanced over at the two of you and winked. “… is built on mutual respect and trust.”
Tom sighed in relief and leaned back on the couch.
“Hardly newsworthy, Ben.” Graham groused.
Tom perked up and leaned in towards the host. “Well she is here in the audience, should we ask her for any juicy details?”
Graham pumped up the audience, who cheered as Vivian sunk deeper into her chair. Sophie scowled next to her.
“Darling, can I tell them anything about us?” Tom smiled as he looked over at her.
“No.” she called out.
Tom’s eyes sparkled again. “Not even our big announcement?”
Vivian’s brow furrowed in confusion as the audience oohed and cheered. She had no idea what announcement Tom was talking about. Certainly nothing had been cleared with Luke. Or her.
“I think she might need a little convincing, Graham. May I?” Tom gestured towards Vivian.
Graham nodded. “Why not? It’s not like you are here to talk about a movie or anything.”
Tom chuckled as he stood and moved towards Vivian. He kneeled in front of you. It was only then she noticed his hands shaking. He fiddled with his signet ring.
“Tom…” she started.
“Darling, this past year has been an adventure. A journey I have gladly taken with you. You have enriched my life in a way I could never imagine. I know that you are it. You are the one. You are mine and I am yours.”
Vivian’s brain swirled, only snapping back to reality when Tom fished a small box out of his jacket pocket and Sophie grabbed her arm. Tom popped open the box to reveal a brilliant cushion cut diamond set in platinum.
“Will you marry me?” Tom’s voice cracked.
Vivian sat there silently as a hundred eyes stared at her. But the only ones that mattered were right in front of her. Impossibly blue. And brimming with tears. Pleading, begging and full of love.
“Yes.” Vivian’s voice warbled. She cleared her throat, her own eyes now watering. “Yes, yes!” She repeated.
Tom’s face broke out into the widest, most perfect boyish smile ever as he slipped the ring on Vivian’s finger. She grabbed his face and kissed him, pulling him onto her lap. The audience erupted into wild applause.
“You saw it here first, Tom Hiddleston is now engaged.” Graham announced
“You are going to pay for this later.” Vivian muttered against Tom’s lips. No one else could hear her.
“I was planning on it.” Tom smirked, kissing her again.
“I was talking about Luke.”
Tom chuckled, kissing her cheek. “I already ran it past him, darling. I have to get back up there.”
“We are talking after.” She pushed him away playfully.
Tom winked at her and headed back onto the stage. Vivian showed off the ring to Sophie. She smiled.
“I know. He asked my opinion about it a month ago.” she confessed. “But he picked it out all by himself.”
Vivian admired the ring. “Am I the last to know about this ring?”
Sophie giggled. “No, it is probably your mother.”
“You’re right. She is going to flip.”
They didn’t get to say much else as the show was coming back from commercial break.
The rest of the interview went better than perfect. Tom beamed on stage, constantly catching Vivian’s eye. More than once, Ben had to nudge Tom’s knee to bring him back to the interview. Vivian giggled from her seat. Sophie and she slipped backstage to meet Tom and Ben back in the green room. Ben came in first, catching Vivian in a hug.
“Congratulations! Despite my first misgivings, I can’t think of a more perfect match for this ridiculous man.” Ben commented as he kissed Vivian’s cheek.
“Um… thanks… Ben.” She responded.
“How come I never get a greeting like that?” Sophie groused, smiling the whole time.
“Sorry, darling.” Ben rushed to dip Sophie and kiss her.
“And who is the one that gagged when I did the same thing?” Tom commented, sidling next to Vivian, his arm wrapping around her waist. Her hand instantly fell to the small of his back.
“That was before I knew the truth.” Ben commented, righting Sophie, guiding her to the small sofa in the room.
“You mean I could have had this romantic guy the whole time?” Sophie playfully swatted Ben’s thigh, which he dodged. “You are paying for that.”
“Add it to my list of transgressions.” Ben leaned to kiss Sophie again.
“Which reminds me,” Vivian piped up. “I will send you ideas first thing in the morning.”
Ben and Tom groaned. Tom called over to his friend. “Stock up on ice and a soothing cream.” He turned to Vivian and kissed her lips softly. “Do you like the ring?”
“I love it. You did so good.” She ruffled his hair. Tom’s cheeks turned a dark pink.
“Thank you, darling.” He squirmed in place.
“Would you like a reward tonight?” Vivian’s hand slid down to cup Tom’s ass.
Tom moved close to whisper in her ear. “What did you have in mind, darling?”
She whispered right back, sending shocks through Tom’s body. “How about you get to pick which toy I use to peg you with tonight?”
Tom’s eyes grew wide as he stared at Vivian, the blush deepening to cover his entire face and neck.
“I… I…” he muttered, his cock straining in his cage.
“I mean it is not every day you get engaged, and you have been the best boy, sunshine.” Vivian cupped his face and kissed his lips. “I love you so much.”
“I love you too, Vivian.” Tom wrapped his arms around her.
#tom hiddleston#tom hiddleston fanfiction#tom hiddleston fanfic#tom hiddleston imagine#tom hiddleston fluff#tom hiddleston x ofc#tom hiddleston smut#follow my lead
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Marriage is a Contract and My Signature is Unreadable
Read on AO3
John’s never seen a bride wear fishnets with their stunning white dress, but Dinah Lance is pulling it off somehow. Admittedly though John hasn’t seen that many brides that weren’t ghosts or the earthly demonic embodiment of some sort of hell beastie so maybe his experience in weddings and bridal wear is a bit skewed.
Of course he’s also a bit skewed because in his eyes no one at this wedding, not even the bride no disrespect to the woman who’s by far one of the few supers he can truly say he likes, is as stunning as his date. Zatanna sits beside him at their table, the reception in full swing now, her legs crossed the deep navy-blue asymmetrical dress she’s wearing showing off a tantalizing bit of her leg. Her tattoo, the twin to his peeks out from the front of the dress right next to the silver lining at the edges where the dress straps around her neck. She’s a fucking vision his Zatanna.
“I can’t believe they finally did it,” Zatanna says gliding her silver French tipped nails with little crescent moons on them along her glass of champagne. “I really thought Lois and Clark would be the only ones to take the plunge.”
Supers aren’t known for tying the knot, their world is so complicated and their relationships so wild they never find the time to actually get around to it. The fact that Dinah and Oliver managed to not only successfully get engaged, but plan a real wedding and have the ceremony without any major incidents happening in the middle is a miracle if John’s ever actually seen one.
“Who do you think’ll be next?” John says surveying the room. Every hero he’s ever met and ever butted heads with is here out of costume and all dressed up to the nines. There’s a congregation of Green Lantern’s by the bar, Superman is on the dance floor poorly attempting to floss as Nightwing laughs his fine ass off at him, the Flash is somehow dancing with his girlfriend and eating every item on the buffet simultaneously. “Seems like two in a row will make a domino effect, yeah?”
Zatanna hums in thought her piercing blue eyes with the glittery navy blue and silver eyeliner around them shimmering in the light as she tilts her head in thought. She carefully scratches at the space beside the cluster of tiny rhinestones artfully placed around her right eyebrow and settles her eyes to a table across the room with a smile.
“Wally and Linda for sure,” she says tilting her head their direction. John swivels to look at them. Unlike Barry who’s still zooming back and forth from Iris to the buffet, Wally is wholly engrossed in every movement Linda makes as she talks rapidly her hands moving all about as she speaks to Mia Dearden on the other side of the table. That is a man wholly in love, enraptured by the woman he gets to call his own. John understands the sentiment as he looks back to Zatanna her dark blue painted lips still resting in a beautiful smile.
“What if it was us?” John asks leaning in closer to her a wicked smile on his face.
Zatanna snorts, a harsh indelicate thing that on anyone else would be unattractive.
“Aww, love you too, Zee,” John says faux offended falling back against his chair. He knew it was an absurd suggestion the moment he said it.
“I’m sorry, you know I love you,” she says holding up a hand attempting to hide her laughter. “It’s just look at us, we’re coming up on our first and only three-year anniversary. We’re not exactly known for being good at this.”
It’s a valid point. Despite the fact they have technically been together for over a decade they’ve gone through their fair share of ups and downs, break ups and make ups and even a few trips to hell and literal deaths. John has screwed up more times than he can count and even Zatanna has bungled it once or twice. Complicated has at almost all times been their relationship status, but the past three years, ever since John got his head out of his ass and finally decided to sort out this one particular aspect of his life they’ve been good, solid.
“Okay, true, but you’re stuck with me and we can’t act like there aren’t benefits to the whole marriage sham,” he says stretching his arms behind his head.
“It’s extremely comforting you called it a sham,” Zatanna says giving him a fondly exasperated look. “But you know maybe you’re right the tax incentives alone are a real benefit.”
“Now, the tax incentives would be appealing if I had ever in my life filed my taxes,” John says with a laugh.
“You’ve never filed taxes?” Zatanna says with a slightly startled look.
John just shrugs tossing back the remainder of his champagne. “It’s not like I’ve ever had any real upstanding type of job that would require me to fill out a W4 or whatever.”
“It’s a W2,” Zatanna corrects. “And John you live with me, our landlord made me put your name on the lease because he saw you there so much. You could totally get caught.”
“Eh, it’ll be fine,” John says with an unconcerned wave of his hand. “The fact that I’m not technically a citizen of this country is probably a bigger issue than the tax thing anyway.”
“John!” Zatanna exclaims with a laugh.
“What? You can’t have thought I actually went to a baseball park and held my hands up and did the national anthem or whatever,” he says kicking his feet up on the empty chair next to him.
“Clearly you haven’t considering that’s not at all how citizenship works,” Zatanna chuckles. “But hey there’s a potential benefit of marriage for us, citizenship.”
“Ah the romance of marrying not for love, but so the government pricks don’t send your ass packing,” John reaches out a hand tangling his fingers with Zatanna’s on the table his thumb running small circles into her hand.
Zatanna hums. “I guess lack of romance aside it wouldn’t matter since I can always just portal you back into the country on a whim anyways.”
John nods in agreement trying to come up with another benefit they might be able to actually take advantage of. “You couldn’t testify against me in court, that could be incredibly useful down the line.”
Zatanna raises one jeweled eyebrow, “Is there a crime you’ve committed lately you’ve neglected to tell me about?”
John thinks for a moment genuinely scanning his memories in case there is something he forgot to tell her about. “No,” he settles on confidently. He’s pretty sure at least. “I’m just thinking in general considering my track record in the past.”
Zatanna pats the top of his hand with a smile. “As if any prison could hold you long enough for me to even be asked a single question.”
John just laughs again, “Alright so maybe there aren’t that many marital benefits for us to take advantage of then.”
“No parents to satisfy,” Zatanna sighs. “And of course making medical decisions for one another doesn’t really matter when you use magic and superhero doctors that definitely don’t accept any sort of co-pay,” she adds on with a contemplative bite of her lip.
“Half your friends hate me,” John says thoughtfully with a chuckle.
“And half your friends are dead,” Zatanna says ruefully tapping a nail to her chin. “The wedding party would be abysmally uneven.”
“I haven’t bought a new tie in years,” John says tugging at the red thing around his neck. He looks hilariously basic compared to Zatanna’s ensemble essentially wearing what he wears any given day of the week the only difference being Zatanna had forced him into a subtly lace patterned black jacket for a change and repainted his chipped nails for the first time in two weeks. “It’d make the pictures look horribly out of place.”
“Plus let’s be real I’m a show woman, I’d probably hate having to share the spotlight with you for one day,” Zatanna smiles teasingly. John smiles back shifting so that he’s scooting his chair closer to hers. He lifts a hand to her face twisting a long dark hair that’s slipped from her twisty updo held in place by two sharp silver hair pins with crescent moons at the end to match her nails and tucking it back behind her ear.
“So, basically there’s not a benefit in this world or a thing that would change if we got married,” John says letting the silky hair go.
“The only thing I can think of is that I like shiny jewelry and you look hot when you wear silver rings,” Zatanna says reaching back and pulling the two pins from her hair letting it all fall across her shoulders, the one stand out streak of navy blue appearing as it falls.
“And we can buy each other jewelry anytime without a reason,” he says brushing the bit of hair that’s fallen into her eyes away.
Zatanna smiles at him once before standing holding out a hand that he instantly takes. She guides him to the dance floor twining her fingers behind his head slowly.
They sway slowly to some sappy love song John vaguely recognizes their eyes locked on one another.
“You know,” she says after a while her fingers pulling through the hair that’s getting a bit too long at the base of his neck. “Just because I don’t want to get married doesn’t mean I don’t want you for as long as I can have you, right?”
He does know that. It’s inexplicable to him why someone as bright and vibrant and good as her wants him, but she does and he intends to keep it that way till the demons or the cigarettes kill him.
“I know. I’m happy how we are, knowing us, and by us I mean me, marriage would end up mucking everything up anyways,” he says pulling her in closer his hands moving from their grip on her waist to the exposed small of her back. “We can just keep going to everyone else’s weddings and raiding their open bars.”
Zatanna laughs then leans up kissing him once soft and slow not even smudging her lipstick in the slightest. She stays close when she pulls back resting her head on his chest as they continue to sway.
“We really need to get your name off of my lease though, I don’t need the government showing up and trying to audit me,” she says softly. “I’d be a nightmare for Mistress of Magic brand.”
John laughs loud and bright leaning his head down to kiss her once atop the head already planning a minor break in to the landlord’s apartment. It’ll be okay if he gets caught, married or not he knows she won’t testify against him.
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The vines that bind us - Chapter 7
Chapter 1 || Previous || Next
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After double-checking with security, it turned out that Tim Drake did not show to work. She sighed. Looks like more work for her… Just like Nathalie said.
She started by greeting the two plants in Mr. Drake’s office. Both were incredibly satisfied with themselves that they earned bigger pots. They were also even happier to see her. Next, she took care of her new plants. The two on her desk she quickly took a liking to. They were cute. Only the large plant that now stood in the corner next to the vent was snarky and dared to make an inappropriate comment about one of the office plants. The hole in that leaf was caused by a bullet thank you very much. Mari quickly and clearly explained where it made mistakes.
With that done, she got to the paperwork that was left on her desk. There were many things to be done before the lunch break.
----------
Chloe was giddy the whole day. She got a green light to deal with the Liar in any way she wished. So many plans. So many possible revenge options. So many lawsuits to be filled. But as she was walking to the cafeteria, a new, even more devious, plan formed in her head. She would need the help of a certain stuck-up brat, but if she got him to help, it would not only destroy Lila but utterly ruin her. She already had several ideas from her other schemes that could be adjusted. Oh, this would be glorious if only she found… there!
Damian Wayne was not having a good day. He was in fact having a really, really bad day. His father had forbidden him from bringing another sword to work until his previous one is returned. Given how efficient the GCPD is, he would be lucky to get it before thirty. He was the only one of his brothers to arrive at WE before lunch, which led to more irritation. He definitely hated the corporate gossip about one Marinette Dupain-Cheng. How she was awesome, how she was a 'bamf' (whatever that meant), or how much they adored her kind-but-still-no-nonsense attitude. She took his sword!
“Wayne.” An irritating voice came from behind. Damian was of course aware that someone was behind him but dismissed it as an employee doing something unrelated to him.
“Bourgeoise. What the heck do you want from me?” He spat
“To show you something.” She pulled her phone from the pocket of her jacket. He quietly admired how she found female clothing with pockets that deep. At the same time, he kept frowning at her.
“I swear, if it’s…” He didn’t finish, because she pressed ‘play’ and the video started. The whole thing laster about seven minutes. With each passing moment, his frown deepened and by the end, Chloe wondered how can he see anything when his eyes narrowed to two tiny slits.
“I. want. her. dead.” He seethed through the clenched teeth.
“Good. But we can’t kill her. Mari forbid it and I know your father isn’t exactly fond of killing.”
“Tt. What. do. you. want?” He pronounced each word clearly.
“Simple. Destroy her with her own words.” She pointed to the group where she was clutching to Adrien’s arm for her dear life. “Mari-bear is too moral to play with her lies like that. Us? We play to win.”
“Fine. But I want my sword back.”
“Clever boy. I knew you could break into an evidence room.” Chloe smiled. “They returned it cleaned of blood the same afternoon. Guess you were too late.”
“Tt.”
“Fine. I will get your precious sword. But if you try to mess with Mari…”
“I got enough of it from my father.” He scowled.
“Good. Now, onto the plan.”
---------
Mari didn’t come to eat lunch with Chloe. She was perfectly aware that the girl would start one of their plans and wanted to have an alibi. Instead, she dived into the paperwork that had to be done as soon as possible. It was going on good and if she dealt with it before the day’s ended, she would have time to try searching for her mother in the evening. She even inquired with the City Hall about the ownership of their old apartment and the answer should be coming any moment now.
She was broken out of her concentration by a scream of rage and frustration.
--------
A few moments earlier
Damian stalked toward the group of teens that were relaxing from their intern duties. He could clearly see the Liar clutching to Agreste boy like a leech. Perfect for their plan.
The boy had to agree that what Blonde concocted was both deviously brilliant and brilliantly devious. A perfect opening play. He made sure that he looked flawless before suddenly ‘appearing’ behind Lila and Adrien.
“How could you?” He asked in an emotionless voice. His face was showing only traces of sadness. Just like he would look if it was for real.
“Who are you?” She asked dismissively.
“Really Lila?” He asked, allowing a small amount of water to appear in his eyes. It was not like him to cry at all, but his mother taught him all useful ways of emotional manipulations and tears were all the way on top of that list. “After all these years, our relationship meant so little to you? I specifically got this trip so we could reunite and you are just… hanging off of some french model?”
“Listen here you…” She was interrupted when Chloe stormed, her heels clicking loudly around the cafeteria. Conveniently, everyone removed themselves when they saw Damian stalking toward intern-bitch. Speaking to police two days in a row is not a pleasant experience.
“Wayne. What’s the mess here.”
“Tt. You were right. She is a harlot.”
“Wayne?” Alya asked with wide eyes.
“Yes. You have the questionable experience of meeting a pissed Damian Wayne. My poor cake…” She moaned.
“Would you let that go, woman!?” He asked. This time he had no need to play his emotions. Bourgeoise never forgave him and Drake that Cake incident and it grated on his nerves. He paid her back.
“It was my birthday!” She raised her hands up. “And you are all idiots. Lila kept telling you how great her relationship with Damian was. And yet she is hanging off of Adrien, sinking her claws into his arm. I think the English expression was… I swear I read a book about it. Something with red A…” She pressed a finger to her lips, acting like she was trying to remember. “Ah! Scarlet Woman.” She grinned. “That’s what you are, Lie-la. A scarlet woman using men to get what you want.” That was vicious even for Chloe. Adrien took the opportunity to push the fuming girl away and get back. He could admire the chaos that was about to happen very soon.
To their surprise, Lila calmed herself and giggled.
“ah! Silly Dami-boo! I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings. I thought we were always just friends. It must’ve been one big misunderstanding”
The people around started to nod their heads, accepting what she said as plausible. Damian Wayne wouldn’t be the first to get the wrong idea. At least until their phones buzzed. Chloe was smirking.
“Misunderstanding? This declarations of love say something different though. I seem to remember there was even some talk about a ring.”
Lila checked her phone and her eyes went wide. There were messages that looked like from her. That witch even replicated her speech pattern. It was much better forgery than what she did with Maribrat.
“Lila?” Nino stared at her in disbelief.
“I’m disappointed. After all this time together.” Damian shook his head. He pulled a small bracelet off and tossed it at her. “Consider this a break-up.”
Chloe smiled. “So you are free now.” She asked him. Damian saw the predatory grin and felt a sudden need to run. But he knew that the witch was not yet destroyed.
“Yes…”
“What say I concede that the cake incident was entirely Drake’s fault. If you take me for a coffee after work?”
Damian gave a distraught Lila a look of hatred. Then, he turned back to Chloe.
“I would like that. Does 4:30 pm works for you?”
“I should be free by then.” She smiled. “It’s a date.”
With that, she left with Damian toward the elevator. Lila had enough of it and stormed to the bathroom. Soon after that, a shriek of frustration filled the building. Since it sounded like the bratty intern, nobody cared enough. The class was not allowed to leave their posts, not that too many of them wanted to be near Lila at the moment. They had many things to think about.
Damian and Chloe sat in the Law department, both having a satisfied grin. It was totally worth it.
“Just to be clear. I still hate you.” He said to her.
“Same here.”
“To the Liar’s fall.” They raised a cookie each and bit in. Most people that saw them had to check again because the Ice Prince was actually hanging around someone his age.
--------
Mari managed to record the shriek and now used it as Lila’s ringtone. It was a nice mid-day surprise that brightened her day. It lasted all beautiful hour until Marleen White, the head of PR, started knocking on the elevator, demanding to see her. Given her state and that she didn’t even call, it was something urgent. Mari quickly let her in.
“We have a huge problem.” She tossed a folder full of pictures on her desk. There were prints of chat screens with various dates. The content was most troubling.
“I assume someone leaked it to the press?” She shrugged.
“How can you be calm? It’s a disaster!”
“They are fake.” Mari shrugged again.
“Fake?”
“A. That’s not Lila’s number on any of her four mobile phones. B. I have no idea who made it, but they have no idea how Damian Wayne acts. It’s straight up the same bullshit she will be facing a lawsuit for once the Law Department gets through the tons of paperwork. And C. This is an American number. Lila had no way of getting it three years ago. Plus the timing is too perfect. She gets punishment from the company and then the scandal with her dating youngest Wayne gets out. Whoever made it settled on fast, not precise.” Mari circled things on the prints.
“So it’s all fake?”
“I suspect she wanted revenge on the company for the extra work I had her be assigned.” Mari grinned at the memory of the shriek. “Or, someone’s doing it in her name.” For a moment her thoughts wandered to Chloe. She would have to speak to her soon.
“We will deny it and post all of the details you highlighted. The tabloids might still latch on it.”
“To be honest, I think it will be better than being dragged through the mud for the deaths. Especially since there was no story attached. Personally, I can’t care less about celebrity romance.” She dismissed the concern. It pained her a bit to speak about the dead in such a dismissive manner, but through the day she slowly absorbed that it was not her fault. She couldn’t blame herself. That’s what Marinette would do. Marinette was left in Paris by the irritating classmates and had her luggage (full of Adrien’s cheese-stinking socks) sent to India or somewhere.
“That’s… quite a good idea. I assume you will want this forwarded to the Law department to add to the lawsuit.”
“No point. It’s fake and we have no proof who leaked it. I’m plenty certain we have nothing or that person would already be sitting in HR.”
“The IT is looking into it, but they have little hopes. It went through an external server that we can’t get access to legally. Whoever leaked it was smart enough to avoid easy detection.”
“Good. By the way, what about that statement?”
“I sent it to your email.”
“I see it. I will read it and send you eventual suggestions.”
“Sure. It’s nice to have someone competent in place.”
“I thought Mr. Drake was quite a good CEO. He got this company from the hole back to the top?” She tried to remember what she knew about Wayne Enterprises and Wayne Tech
“Yeah, but he is… eccentric. And can disappear at weird times for hours only to then work through three days without sleep”
“Oh. And Sarah was unhelpful?” Mari winced, remembering her own runs when the deadlines approached and she realized she spent the whole week constantly fighting Akumas.
“She was good with people, but…”
“I get it.” Mari smiled. “Luckily, I have experience with babysitting.”
Both women cackled at that.
------------
Once Marleen was gone, Mari quickly called Chloe’s phone. The girl picked up almost immediately. She was speaking to someone.
“I hope I’m not interrupting your work?”
“Don’t worry Mari-bear. I was just speaking with my newest side-kick.”
“Tt. I’m not a sidekick!” A voice came from next to her. Mari tried to resist the urge to facepalm. Chloe tilted the phone to show a pouting Damian Wayne.
“Shut up Sidekick. I’m the mastermind behind our plans.”
“And I pay for them with my image and sanity.” He replied.
“Hush you! I will let you know that some people would kill for the opportunity.”
“Tt. Right now I want to kill someone.”
“Har har. So funny, are you?”
“As much as I enjoy watching you two flirt… Get a room.” Marigold joked, watching both of them blush red. Before either had a chance to attack her for implying anything, she continued. “Chloe. Did you per any chance fabricated and published texts between Damian and the Liar?”
“Wait! That bitch actually published it?”
Mari facepalmed. She could feel the headache coming. In the hindsight, maybe it would’ve been better to just fire Lila’s sorry ass, together with the rest of the bunch. She could easily have Adrien and Chloe hired on some less permanent deal. They could both do without school for a while.
“Tt. Now I will really need my blade. Please tell me that nobody believed it?” Damian asked, frowning.
“You’re in luck. Madame White caught the wind of it quick enough. She will be making a swift statement that this is an attack on your person and the image of Waynes as a whole. Plus publishing a detailed analysis of why it couldn’t have been you.” Bluenette reassured him that his precious reputation would not take any great hits. Or not too great of a hit at least.
“Good. Jon wouldn’t let me live it down.” He sighed in relief.
“Now, Chlo. You know I love and support your deviousness, but please try and limit the civilian casualties of your future plans.”
“Fine. I can’t promise Lila’s retaliation to follow the same rules.” She huffed.
“Good. You’ve got any plans for the afternoon?”
“She is already otherwise occupied.” Damian quickly interceeded. He might not like the blonde much, but his honor demanded that if he actually invited her for a date, he did his best.
“I will leave you to your scheming then. Or whatever else you are doing” Mari quickly hanged up on the couple before they could scream at her. She saw a bit of blush enter both of their faces so she counted it as a win.
---------
The rest of the day passed relatively quickly. Tim Drake did not show for work, so she had to handle the paperwork herself. She never imagined how much work went into organizing one press conference. Sarah did absolutely nothing about it before she quit. Her biggest problem was that she needed to have it happen outside of WE since several journalists expressed their concerns about security. Now she was being hard-pressed to find a separate convention center. Except that things were expensive and Finances were definitely not being helpful. She posted the task to one of their employees. He would send her the offers before the day was up, but there was a slight delay and she would have to wait until four. Mari decided that she can wait and have it done that day.
She informed Chloe and their teacher that she had to stay in the office after hours and get it done so they wouldn’t worry. Then, she dived into making what felt like dozens of phone calls. Out of four serious offers, three would actually pass the standards set by Mr. Drake in the email he oh so graciously sent her in response to a question about the situation. It was six when she actually got done with the negotiations, but the satisfaction was immense. The final price was ten percent lower than what she initially aimed for, so she had more funds for other things. The guest list was also reviewed in the meantime and already sent back, so that was one more thing crossed out of the list.
After being done, she bid farewell to the receptionist near the entrance and went to the Taxi she called before leaving. It was already waiting, which was a nice boon for the end of the day. Her next stop was not the hotel though. She gave the address in the seedier part of town. Her old address to be precise.
----------
“Are you sure Ma’am?” The taxi driver asked unconvinced. “I mean it’s not the safest part of town.”
“Don’t worry. I can take care of myself. Besides, my mother used to live here.” She gave him a bright smile.
“If you say so…” He shrugged and stopped before a rundown building. Moss and ivy had already overgrown this place a long time ago, but the plants seemed… unhealthy. Like they were left to fend on their own for too long. It was not a good sign.
Hesitating for a moment, Mari entered the building. She was hesitant, even though technically her mother was the owner. The ground floor was empty if one ignored several dozen wild plants in various states of growth. Some were dried and dead, while some others were lush and domineering. It used to be well-kept and ordered inside the garden that she and her mother tended to. She would fix that after she found her mother.
The second floor was not much better. The dust everywhere was indication enough that Pamela Isley moved out long ago. Probably even years. Mari walked around, reminiscing about her childhood. It was not what one would call ordinary, but she would never settle for it anyway. She loved learning about plants with her mother. The martial arts lessons with uncle Wilson when he had time. Science with uncle Victor or her mother. Even the math with uncle Floyd. And Allegra and Claude were there to keep her company.
Slowly, she trailed to her mother’s room. She hoped to find something useful there. She definitely did not expect to have to block a giant mallet with blue and red stripes. Ducking under it, she delivered a quick kick before running to the stairs. Mari dashed downstairs and burst onto the street. The Taxi driver actually waited for her. He was a godsend at this moment. She quickly jumped inside and ordered him to go.
“So? Unwelcome guests?” he asked a bit more cheeky than she would’ve liked.
“Yes. But apparently my mom didn’t live there is some time.” Mari answered in a bitter tone.
“Shame. Hope you have better luck, next time lass.” They rode in silence for a moment. “Name’s Chas by the way. Chas Chandler.”
“Marinette.” She smiled at the man. “Thank you for waiting. I would’ve probably been in a worse situation if not for you.” Mari did not add that the worse situation was ordering the wild plants to defend her. She worked with the wild plants maybe twice before and they didn’t listen that well to orders.
“Where to now?”
Mari gave him the name of the hotel. When they arrived, she paid him and gave him a rather generous tip for the work. It was already dark, but apparently Chloe was not yet here. The class was supposed to be visiting some local museum or whatever. It’s not like she cared.
When Marigold entered her room, there was a large book sitting on her bed. Tikki immediately zoomed out of her pocket and toward it. she hovered over for a moment before she huffed.
“Of course he would do that. He is an idiot though. I would be a much better teacher.”
“Who are you talking about?” Mari asked the small goddess.
“No one!” Kwami said quickly and in a bit higher tone. The bluenette could’ve sworn she saw Tikki get even redder than before.
“Okay… And what’s that? Nothing dangerous I hope?”
“It’s… it’s a spellbook.” Tikki said after hesitating a bit.
“Like magic?”
“Yeah.”
“Who would leave me a spellbook without as much as a note?” Mari asked. She could see Tikki was conflicted.
“I can’t say.” She finally let go of air. “I made a promise that I would keep the secret.”
“Fine. You’re sure it’s safe?”
“Yeah, but Magic is dangerous. You should only do it with some supervision.” Tikki warned her.
“Good thing I have you then.” Marigold grinned.
“Mari! You know I can’t exactly just…” Tikki paused. “You know what, it’s actually not a bad idea. I can teach you some simple stuff for the starters.”
“Huh? I actually expected you to be against it.”
“I trust you to act responsibly. And as a Guardian, you probably should start learning magic anyway.”
“Let’s get started then. Please tell me I can curse Lie-la!”
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NEXT
#maribat au#maribat#marinette dupain cheng#Mother!Ivy#dc#MLB#mlb x dc#Batman#miraculous ladybug#miraculous lb#redeemed!chloe#Good!Adrien Agreste#bamf marinette
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Landslide
The Avengers (MCU) Fanfiction
Rating: Explicit
WARNINGS: This story will contain but it’ll not be limited to explicit 18+ content including Obsessive Behavior, Smut, Shower Sex, Edging, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Fluff, Oral Sex, thigh riding, Dirty Talk, Praise Kink, Jealousy, Possessive Behavior, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Dominance, Submission, Knotting, Scenting, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Rutting, Rut Sickness
Category: F/M
Pairings: Steve Rogers/Reader, Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanov
Summary: Steve was never quite sure if he truly was an alpha. Genetically he should be, coming from a long line of alpha males. But due to the several health conditions in his youth, his poorly functioning body never presented. But now, because of the serum reacting to his true designation, a terrible case of rut sickness takes hold of the super soldier, threatening his life. Being a beta, Natasha can’t offer him what he needs, and since omegas are rarer today then ever, she is forced to hire a foreign girl to tend to Steve during these desperate times.
Author’s notes: So the reader is finally introduced in this chapter, and since she is foreign and I’m Brazilian, she’ll be from Brazil as well, as is easier for me to include a language that I already know (Portuguese) and also cultural curiosities. But our similarities stop there, I’m not trying to make the reader into me, that’d totally defeat the point of writing a reader insert story.
Shout outs: @captainchrisstan, @keenkiddeputynickel, @danidv011, @ballyhoobarnes, @pophbfdsxa, @crashbarbie, @readermia, @musicnowandforever661
Thank you so much for you guy’s support!
Chapter Three
For those who missed it >>
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Miscommunication
“This not a good idea.” Bucky spoke, for what it seemed to be the hundredth time.
“So you’ve said, over and over again. I didn’t ask you to come, you know? ” Natasha sighed, focused on steadfastly driving the plane, her hands firmly planted on each side of the control wheel. “He’s in pain, Barnes. And if Bruce’s right about his diagnosis, it’s only going to get worse.”
“I’m the last person in the world who wants to see Steve suffering. He’s my best friend, Romanoff.” The Soldier’s shoulders were tense as he looked straight out of the aircraft's window, seeing the big building in the approaching horizon. “But we have to think about what he would want for a second. I mean, he fights to get these kinds of places shut down.”
“Well, Captain America’s moral code is the least of my worries right now.” The redhead’s voice came out in a harsh bark, jaw clenched as she smoothly landed the machine. Once the engines stopped and they took off their seat-belts, she looked over at Bucky, who’s face was series and unreadable. Before he could get up, she stopped him. “Look, I despise this too. But we’ve looked everywhere, Barnes. This is the only way and I… And we have to save him.”
Bucky shook his head, eyebrows knotted in a frown, but eventually opened his expression to her, knowing she was right.
“When he finds out that we came here…” He murmured, letting out a long breath and getting up from his seat, Natasha hot on his tail as they left the plane.
“He’s not going to find out.” She said, voice low but never faltering. He stopped dead in his track, noticing the obvious threat in the Russian Agent’s voice. She kept walking as if nothing happened, never looking back, her stride straight and calm. “Right?”
He looked up at the imposing structure of the building ahead of them, the entire place looked dark and mono-toned, as if it had come out of a horror picture. It was a skyscraper, tall with many floors and windows. Tons and tons of windows, all square and sealed with fat metal bars. A shiver went up his spine when he thought of what was being kept inside of that prison, and Bucky wondered if Steve not knowing about any of this wasn’t for the best after all.
“Right.” He let out, following her to the entry with reluctant feelings.
They stopped at a massive closed gate, noting the security cameras surrounding the whole area. Natasha approached the scanning mechanism at the superior right corner of the iron door, letting it scan her retina. After a couple of seconds, a loud buzzing ringed through their ears and the gate opened slowly.
Surprisingly, the place looked extremely luxurious, thou clean and minimalist. There was a grand open space, completely grassed and filled with flowers, like a secret private garden. There were a couple of trees with comfortable-looking swings on them, providing a welcoming shadow to cool off in summer days. But at the sides of the garden, they could also see two tall stone towers, where armed man monitored Natasha and Bucky’s every move.
Stunned at the juxtaposition of the whole thing, they kept walking towards a fancier looking door than the ones before, this one made of a glass-like material that led to a reception area, where they could see a blonde woman typing away in her computer. Her posture was straight and her physique was lean. Her hair was pulled back in a slick bun, not a single strand out of place, making her forehead look bigger than probably was in reality.
There were a few leather sofas on the lounge, but not one single person in the waiting room but the receptionist, and with the level of security and organization of the place, both agents were willing to bet that whoever came there, didn’t have to wait around for long.
“Merhaba, size nasıl yardımcı olabilirim?” The receptionist spoke once they approached her, not ever looking up from the keyboard she typed on, her clear polished nails nothing but a blur as her fingers moved at top speed.
“Hum… ” Natasha turned to look at Bucky for a second, checking to see if he knew Turkish, because that was, unfortunately, one of the few languages that she was not fluent on. But the brunet simply shrugged, looking at her with an impassive expression taking over his features . “Hi!” She tried, and the second that that simple English word left her lips, the blonde woman behind the desk quit typing, her hands stopping mid-air as she finally looked up at them, a spooked look in her face, her skin tone getting even paler than before, almost as if she had just seen a ghost. “We’re here to speak with Mr. Bürsin, actually.” Natasha continued, sharing an uncertain look with Bucky due to the woman’s reaction .
“You are Natasha Romanoff? Mr. Bürsin had already let me know you were coming, but I was told that you’re Russian and… Alone.” She had a tick accent a strict-looking face, even though her scared expression, her royal-blue blazer just a little too tight for her chesty frame.
“Well, there was a minor change of plans.” Romanoff’s voice and posture shifted, mimicking the blond’s, an old manipulation tactic that always seemed to work on Alpha females, like this one, her pheromones strongly wafting out, overpowering her overly sweet perfume and making Bucky want to growl, but instead, he simply rolled his eyes, not at all caring about the dissatisfaction that his presence caused . “I’m sure he won’t mind, thou.”
“I’m sure he will.” With a frown she picked up the phone on her desk, dialing only one number and then proceeding to have a long conservation in Turkish, before finally hanging up. “Mr. Bürsin will see you now.” She gave off a tight smile , knuckles turning white while she still held on to the phone, and before they could move, she spoke again. “But only Miss Romanoff, not the Alpha.”
“What?” Natasha and Bucky said at the same time.
“Why?” The redhead crossed her arms under her breasts, trying really hard not to get visually annoyed.
“Ma'am, we have protocols in place, he cannot come in.” The woman’s tone was polite, but still condescending.
“Don’t ‘ma’am’ me. Do I look like a ma’am to you?” Her eyebrows shot up, completely giving up on the previous plan by now. “I’m probably younger than you.”
When the receptionist expression didn’t change, Bucky touched the Russian woman in the arm, getting her attention.
“Romanoff, it’s fine.”
“No, you-”
“This is more important than any of that, remember why we’re here.” His voice was but a whisper, so that only she could hear. “Besides, I pity the fool that tries to mess with you. You can handle yourself, with or without me.” She smiled at that, looking at him for a while before nodding.
“Alright, let’s go.” Natasha said, giving the blonde a pointed look as she got up from her seat and away from her desk, starting to walk towards one of the many corridors of the building.
“Follow me, please.” Her accent hanged heavy, her hips swinging while she strode atop of her hills.
In the hall, Natasha saw many doors, all closed and guarded b y strong, armed man. There was an ample opening at the end of the hall, where the receptionist stopped, indicating for her to continue with a nod of the head.
When she walked in, noting as the woman closed the door behind her, she almost blacked out from the sheer smell of the room. The whole place looked sterile, but still reeked of Omega pheromones. Even for Natasha, a Beta, it was dizzying. Now she understood why it was so imperative that Bucky was not allowed to come inside.
The room was packed full of chairs, placed in a big circle that led to a stage. There were only man sitting in those chairs, all extremely well dressed. Some old, some young, but all clearly rich. Not one of them gave her a second glance, all to focused on what was about to happen on that stage. There was a narrow hallway in the center, in between all of the chairs. And right next to the stage, in a front-row seat, she saw the back of his head, and noticed the empty seat next to his.
Making a beeline for it, she sat down, yearning desperately for a take of fresh air right about now that she was so close to the stage, where the Omega smell was the strongest, being slowly mixed with all of those Alpha’s scents.
“Do me a favor and warn me next time you bring a friend, will you?” Emir Bürsin’s voice was low and raspy, the light golden hair in his head tinning out and turning grey with age. But still, he was a very handsome man. Strong and muscular, but not bulky, with long, big arms straining inside of this tailored suit jacket.
“There will be no next time.” Natasha was quick to answer, not at all impressed by his imposing build. He gave her one fast look, a crooked smile plastered on his face as he sat down in his front-row chair like a king, legs crossed in a nonchalant display.
“Oh, I bet. Once you try one of my girls, you’ll never want for seconds.” His smile became even bigger when Natasha couldn’t control the disgusted look in her eyes. “But you’re not shopping for yourself today, are you, Widow?”
She didn’t appreciate the use of the nickname, turning to stare at the stage as the lights of the room stared dimming and a cold-toned spotlight shone brightly at the center of the stage.
“No, definitely not.” He laughed to himself as she continued to ignore his remarks, frowning a bit when slow background music started to play. “You know, in this business people talk. And I happened to hear such an interesting tale.”
“I’m dying to hear it.” She murmured, the sarcasm strongly embedded in her features by then.
“I heard- oh, thank you.” He was cut off as different Beta woman, clearly assistants of the place, began to give out number plates to each and every man sitting in the room, making a point not to give one to Natasha. She frowned again at that, getting more and more confused by the minute. As they continued to work the room, he proceeded . “I heard that one of your brand-new, shiny superhero friends got himself into a pretty sticky situation, if you know what I mean. Apparently — and again, this all word-of-mouth —, he succumbed into such a bad rut, that he may actually die if he doesn’t get his hands on an Omega, can you imagine that ? Dying from horniness?”
His scoff was loud on Natasha’s ears, and she never had to restrain herself from punching someone so bad.
“And after years without speaking, completely out of the blue, you call me up to ask for a favor.” A man appeared on stage and, wearing a suit and tie, he stood behind a podium, turning on the microphone in front of him and shuffling through cards. “And that favor just so happens to be exactly what our favorite Captain needs to survive, isn’t that such a funny coincidence? Don’t you just love when the universe plays this crazy pranks on us? I mean, what are the odds of these two situations not being connected?”
By the time he was done, the man on stage had started to talk in Turkish, and the audience cheered on to whatever he was saying.
“What do you want to keep your mouth shut about this, Emir? More money?” Natasha asked, mouth forming a little circle when an entirely naked woman entered the stage, s topping in the middle of the stoplight. Her hands were mechanically stuck to her sides, her limbs clearly trembling as she just stood there, completely exposed for those man’s eyes.
“Money? Fuck money, I got enough of that. I want security.” Natasha wasn’t fully processing the conversation at that point, looking over at Emir who had picked up his number plate and put it up, waiting for it to get acknowledged by the man behind the podium before putting it down.
“What do you mean?” Her lips were moving, she knew she was forming words, but a big part of her brain wasn’t truly there.
Her eyes scanned throughout the room, seeing as other men were also putting their plates up, and that’s finally when it hit her. Her blood ran cold when she realized what was happening, and her vision got stuck on that poor girl standing there, her body shaven from eyebrows down, beginning to follow the instructions of the spokesman, turning around to show the audience her form from behind, and them proceeding to slightly open her legs to show the inside of…
Natasha closed her eyes, not wanting to see more, turning so that Emir couldn’t see her face. She felt like throwing up, a little lightheaded as well. So this was what he did here, he ran auctions, Omega auctions.
“I want the security of knowing that no matter what happens, neither you or anyone of your super assholes are going to come busting through here and ruin my business, that’s what I want.” She tried swallowing down the knot that had formed in her throat, putting on her best poker face to look back at him, only to find the man smiling over winning the bidding. He turned to her, putting the plate down on his lap as the girl left the stage and another waked in right after. “ Do we have an understanding ?”
“We do.” The steadiness of her voice shocked even Natasha herself, but Emir didn’t seem to notice a thing, looking comfortable and relaxed, not taken aback one bit by the situation that was taken place.
“Lovely.” He quickly got up, leaving the number plate on top of his seat, and closed his jacket, exaggerating the slimness of his waist. “So, now that we got that out of the way, do you want to come and meet the present that I hand-wrapped for Mr. Rogers myself?”
Natasha got up as well, trying to ignore the raging feeling running through her body, forcing herself to think of Steve, to think back to the reason she was there, and nod in response to his question, instead of doing what she really would like to, which would be betting him into a pulp.
“I just hope I got the right size.” He chirped as they star ted walking out of the auction room, out into the corridor and entering one of the many doors, where a small bedroom was home to a frightened-looking young woman.
*
Everything hurt.
His whole body ached, literally. He could literally feel the muscles underneath his skin contracting and expanding, and the pain was all so bad. He could feel his lungs enlarging as he breathed air in and shrinking as he exhaled it out, and the burn was almost maddening.
This wasn’t what a normal rut was supposed to feel like, of that Steve was sure. No other person should ever have to feel the way he was feeling, ever.
This was hell.
His own bedroom ha d become hell.
His back was pressed to the bed, the sheets were so soaked with sweat that he felt like he could drown. He tried showering, but that had been a bad idea altogether.
He hated the hellfire that his skin had become, that he had passed the point of feverish a long time ago and now whenever the cold water hit his flesh, vapor could be seen wafting through the air.
But that wasn’t even the worst part, it was the smell. The simple smell of soap, from that ‘vintage’ brand that tries to recreate the classic scents from older eras, the one that he used to love. Now, that smell made him want to trow up.
Now, most smells around his house hit him differently, making his stomach turn and nausea overtake him. He definitely hasn’t eaten in a while, he could see it too, in the quick passing glances he gives to the mirror, how skinnier he has gotten.
The bed is the only place where he doesn’t feel like putting his guts out. Because it smells of him. Only him, and nothing else. No one else. Isn’t that sad? That his body so desperately earns for another, but since it can’t have it, it prefers to slowly shut down and die alone.
All of a sudden, the doorbell rang, and Steve berried his face in his pillow, a growling noise involuntarily coming from his chest at the idea of having to come to the door. That was the worst part of his apartment. The one that smelled the least like him and more like others, especially like Alphas. Oh, god, he hates Alphas. And yes, that includes himself.
“Steve?” He could hear a female voice from outside the door, calling out to him, and the Alpha inside got excited for a second, before the scent of Beta hit his nose, making his face contour into a grimace. “It’s Natasha, can I come in?”
He could hear keys jiggling before he could even answer. Hadn’t he made her give him the keys to his apartment last time?
“No!” He screamed at her, his voice hoarse due to the lack of use.
He wanted to die, in private, was that so hard to understand?
“Well, too bad.” He could hear when she closed the door behind her and began walking towards his room.
“Don’t come in.” He barked as her shadow stopped outside of his door, which was almost completely closed, if not by a tiny slit.
“What? Why?”
Because your mere presence makes me want to break every single square inch of this bedroom while I trow up on top of the debris. That’s what he wanted to say, but instead- “I’m naked.”
“I’ve seen you naked already.” She sighed from behind the barrier that separated her from entering his room, invading his space. And he really didn’t want to be rude to her, not again, but Natasha could be really push y , and it’s not like he could control most of the words that come out of his mouth in the state’s his in.
“And I didn’t like it then, nor will I like it now.” He tried to stop the relief that rushed through him when he heard her murmur a small ‘ok’. “What do you want, Nat?”
“Look, we don’t have much time now, and Banner says the only thing that’s keeping you alive after all these days suffering through what your body’s been suffering is also the thing that made you sick in the first place: the serum. He says that the only thing that you’ll get better and survive this, is seeing your rut out with an Omega.”
At the mere mention of the word, his dick twitched, a wave of pleasure-laced pain cutting through his lower body, and Steve had to contain a moan, embarrassment warming his cheeks even more than they already were.
“I already heard all that before, Nat. I know my situation, but it’s too late now.” He gritted his teeth against each other, getting pretty good at coasting through the pain by then. “And I’m fine with that.”
“But it doesn’t have to be like that.” Maybe she could hear his eyes rolling, because before he tried to ask her to leave once more she spoke again. “Listen, Steve, I know you didn’t want anyone to know about what is happening to you, and I wanted to respect that, but I… But none of us could just sit by and watch you die.”
Her mouth was suddenly dry, her vocal cords scraping against each other ruggedly, creating an unpleasant sound and making it clear that she was nervous, but Steve let her continue, his heart beating faster with her every word.
“So Tony put out an ad, letting people know that Captain America was in need of help, and if any Omega out there was willing they could come to the facility and get tested to see if they were compatible with you. A lot of women showed up — shocker —,” She let out a humorless laugh, listening to nothing but silence in return, “but most of them weren’t even Omegas, and the ones that were weren’t compatible with you. But finally, yesterday, this foreign girl showed up, she doesn’t know much English, but she says that you saved her in Sokovia and that she’d like to save you now. So, if you still want me to go and leave you be, I will, but if you’re done with this whole self-loathing and self-harm thing, I could invite her in, and you two could have tons of savage sex and also not die.”
A long time went by after that, a long period of silence, where only Steve’s labored breathing could be heard. He didn’t say anything, but that wasn’t intentional. He was stunned, actually, still trying to digest everything that Natasha had said. Considering every word, processing it slower than he usually would in his natural state.
“Steve?” The redhead’s voice ringed, waking him up from his trance. “Did you even hear what I said?”
“She’s outside?!” Was the first thing that he could think of saying, voice strained, sounding a little scared, even.
“Yeah, me and Bruce brought her over. Like I said, she knows very little English but she was clear on the fact that she wanted to help you.”
“And we’re compatible?”
“Yes!”
“Are you sure?”
“Oh, my God. Just put some clothes on and get out here!” She demanded, bossy as always, but his Alpha wouldn’t take that, not right now. A loud growl emerged from him, and Steve had to physically restrain himself from breaking something.
Still, he took a deep breath, his head hurt so bad that he wasn’t sure he was capable of getting up. But he pushed through, having to hold his head with both hands to try and make the room stop spinning. Very slowly he got out of bed, immediately missing the familiarity that it provided him.
He looked over at his closet, seeing all of his clothes laid out neatly, and only the thought of having any of that fabric on top of his skin was painful enough to make him give up on that premise entirely and put on his robe instead. Th e feel of it was still very much wrong, but knowing that he would be able to take it off much quicker than any other piece of clothing was just a little more soothing.
If there was one thing you needed to understand about Steve Rogers, is that he was a planner. He not only loved to plan, he was good at it too. He’d plan his missions, his day s , his meals, everything meticulously. That was when he was at he’s most comfortable, making up a plan and following it through. He wasn’t completely against making things up as he went, but saying that it didn’t make him anxious would be a lie.
He always preferred to know how things were going to play out, and this wasn’t any different. He had already created a route for this whole rut sickness deal: he was slowing going to die alone inside of his room, leave his shield to Sam and his comic book collection to Bucky, maybe his record player and records would go to Tony, and he would leave that pretty brooch he got from his mom to Natasha. That was it. It was a date.
But all of that changed now and he had to reroute his way around this. And that’s precisely what he was doing as he approached the door, already having wrapped himself in his robe.
He was going to go out there, tell this poor girl that she didn’t owe him anything, that he was happy to know that he had saved her life in Sokovia, and that she should go out into the world and find love, not wait around like had. Then he would apologize for his friends bringing her here, tell them all to leave him alone for good, and he’d even keep his posture throughout the whole ordeal.
That was the new plan, and he was happy with it. Yeah, this was good. This could work.
“Finally.” Steve heard Natasha say when he left his bedroom, entering the living room, a weird fuzzy feeling catching a hold of him for some reason. “So, can I tell Banner to let her in?”
He simply nodded, not sure what to do with a different kind of sensation starting in his lower abdomen. It wasn’t necessarily good, but it wasn’t bad either, which was surprising, because all he could feel of lately was bad. An uneasy, unplaceable feeling forming. And it was something completely new. Was it… Excitement?
Natasha opened the entry door of his apartment again, getting out but leaving it open. He could hear her and Bruce talking softly in the hallway, but he didn’t care to try to understand what they were saying, he didn’t care about anything, not anymore.
Because even before they walked back in, with a young woman following close behind them, with her hair pulled back and a makeup clean face, eyes glued to the ground and hands closed together in front of her body, he had already smelled her. He had already taken a big whiff of that intoxicating scent, goosebumps staring at the back of his neck, travelling all the way to his cock and making it leak precum. He had already set his eyes on that Omega.
And by then, he knew.
Fuck the plan.
#steve rogers imagine#steve rogers fanfiction#captain america imagine#mcu imagine#MCU fanfiction#captain america fanfiction#imagine abo#steve rogers abo#steve rogers alpha#reader omega#steve rogers x reader#captain america x reader#alpha beta omega#steve rogers smut#captain america smut#chris evans#mcufam#avengers endgame#avengers imagine#avengers fanfiction#lanslide chapter 3
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Paris in the rain
request: Christen proposes to R but she gets rejected due to fear? But then some fluff because R thought more about it and then proposed to Christen instead
pairing: Christen Press x Reader
words: 2353
"–will you marry me?"
Your eyes widened in shock, surprise and possible fear of what would happen any moment. You looked down at Christen, your girlfriend of two years, on her knees, a beautiful ring sitting inside a small box.
Your mouth opened and closed like a fish, no words able to leave it, despite you trying hard to find the right words. Are there even the right words for this? You knew the answer to that.
You felt yourself panicking, frantically looking around for anything to help you escape.
The water in your eyes was becoming unbearable, small droplets rolling down your reddened cheeks. For a moment Christen looked hopeful, not knowing that your tears were in fact nothing to be excited about.
"Christen– I. I'm sorry, I don't know what to say. I can't– I'm sorry, I can't do this. Excuse me." Your voice broke, heavy waves of tears streaming down your face and falling onto the floor.
"Y/N– wait!"
You fled the room, out of your shared apartment with no idea where to go. Sandy wasn't your home, you didn't know much about the city other than what Chris had shown you so far. You've only recently moved into her apartment, once you were able to sign with the Utah Royals.
It was all too much for you, Christen dropping the question out of nowhere, never even once mentioned anything about marriage plans. Christen really wanted this with you? Wanted to spend her future with you?
Endless thoughts and worst case scenarios flooded your mind, giving you a headache. Was it completely over now? Did you just end your most meaningful relationship by storming out the door?
Christen looked absolutely heartbroken when you turned away. The hand holding the ring slowly sinking to the ground as her eyes started tearing up. You were able to see her heart breaking. The thought had you crying a fresh wave of tears.
"What have I done." You mumbled, coming to a halt in the middle of the sidewalk. It was late in the evening, the sky covered by thick clouds, perfectly mirroring your inside.
You took your phone out, looked at the time and decided to call Kelley, the only one you could think of calling right now. The only one you wanted to talk to right now.
The phone rang endlessly, no one picking up. "Shit." You cursed, sniffling in frustration. Now that left you with nowhere to go but back to your apartment. Would she still be there?
Christen would probably never forgive you for this, for leaving her like that, all vulnerable. She's the love of your life, you knew that much, and you wanted to spend your life with her beside you, but in that moment it scared you, it made you react in a way not even you would've expected. You regretted your decision instantly.
Face palming yourself you turned around, wiped your tears away and began your walk back to the apartment, either facing Christen or simply not, you didn't want to think that far yet.
Your fingers nervously fumbled with the key, lucky to have them with you at all times and opened the door slowly, your head the first thing to peek inside.
There was no light, no noise, no sign of the kind brunette. A small part of you was relieved, the other was shattering into tiny pieces. She really left. You broke all over again seeing the blown out candles and rose petals on the floor. Out of the corner of your eye you noticed the small black box still laying on the table. She left that as well.
Feeling more lonely than ever, angry at yourself and ready to snap someone in half because of your own stupidness, you ran into your bedroom, throwing yourself onto the bed, breathing in her scent as you screamed into the pillow, your tears wetting the white fabric.
Christen seemed to be everywhere that night, she was all around you, her clothes, her scent, framed pictures of the two of you. Your thoughts occupied by her, your heart heavy with guilt and regret. You cried until there were no tears left and when you eventually fell asleep, as the sun came up, you dreamed of her.
You awoke with dried tears, red eyes and a big headache. As soon as yesterday's events hit you you broke into tears again, already feeling sick of it.
You even noticed the time, completely avoiding the fact that you just missed an important practice. No doubt you'd be in trouble for that, but it's nothing that can't be explained and properly sorted out later on.
Unlocking your phone you tried to ignore Christen on your background and went through your missed calls and messages. A few teammates were trying to reach you but Kelley was the most frequent caller, worrying the most.
'Christen is with me.'
'I heard what happened, she doesn't wanna talk much.'
'Y/N. Call me.'
'Where are you? It's practice!'
You tried to ignore her messages but your heart was fluttering at the mention of your girlfriend's name.
Your phone vibrated for one last time as Kelley sent another text. 'Team meeting tonight, you better get your ass there. Do it.'
Should you really go? The fear of crossing paths with Christen entered your mind, but your heart longed to see her again, your body screamed for hers. It has only been a few hours without her and yet it has been the worst torture you had to endure so far.
Long short story you found yourself at the training compound, walking towards the meeting room, knowing full well that officials would be hot on your heels as soon as your feet crossed the threshold.
You couldn't bother to look somewhat presentable, only wearing one of your clubs sweatpants and one of Christen's older shirts, a beanie covering your bad hair and sunglasses hiding your exhausted eyes and dark circles.
The room was filled with most of the team already, your eyes roaming through it to search for that one special person. You spotted Kelley leaning against the wall, arms crossed and engulfed in a conversation. Next to her sat Christen, listening to everything they talked about, eyes fixated on your friend, her jaw flexed and ready to cut someone's finger.
She looked stunning, no one would've ever guessed that she just went through a possible breakup. Hair up in a half bun, wearing a tight black long sleeve and black pants. She seemed ready to attend someone's funeral, probably yours since you shoveled your own grave.
Before you could do something stupid and walk over to them, officials reached you furious as hell, pulling you aside to give you a lecture and extra laps around the field the next time you'd have to show up since you clearly missed this one.
As Laura walked up to the front everyone began to take their seats. Christen moved from her spot at the wall, walking to the middle of the room and ultimately crossing paths with you. You were quick to fall back into your seat as Amy pulled you down, grabbing your sunglasses and hiding them. But you were not quick enough to miss the eye contact with Christen.
Her eyes widened slightly, hands reaching for Kelley before she averted her eyes to take her seat a few rows behind yours. You groaned, what a coincidence. "Shh, be quiet now, you baby." Becky warned. You rolled your eyes and playfully mocked her.
"Welcome, ladies. As you all know I'll be leaving after this season, there's still a lot to do and–" You zoned out, no longer listening to your coach's words, your mind busy thinking about Christen. Slowly turning around in your seat you tried to sneak a peek at her, almost choking on your saliva when you noticed Christen directly looking at you as well.
You turned back around faster than lightening, cheeks turning red in embarrassment of being caught. You begged the ground to swallow you, this whole situation seemed weird and unreal. Whenever there was a team meeting you and Chris would sit together, this was a first for the both of you.
You were relieved once this was over and you were allowed to leave. You were one of the first to jump out of your seat and run straight for the exit, as if someone lit your ass on fire, being glad you dodged all the curious questions your teammates were dying to ask, especially Becky.
You could've never faced Christen like this, not here, not around everyone. If you wanted to talk to her you'd do it privately, somewhere where it was okay to cry and break down.
What you also knew was to make this right again, you had to talk to Christen, one way or another this had to be fixed, it was only fair to her.
Not waisting any time you stormed into your apartment and tidied it up. Your eyes scanned the black box and carefully picked it up to have a look inside.
Christen did not come to play with this one, it was most likely the most beautiful ring you've ever seen. It was everything you've ever wanted and you were stupid enough to say no.
Winning a World Cup brought in enough money to buy a ring for her, that's for sure. The question was where do you get one that fast? Grabbing your phone you dialed Ashlyn's number to ask for advice. You guys talked for two hours, eventually explaining the whole situation to her and she then helped you out together with Ali, who joined the call 20 minutes late.
"Time to make this right, cutie. Ain't no way around this. Stay safe." Ashlyn reassured and hung up on you. You knew she was right, no time to back down from this, you had a woman to apologize to.
It was the next day, you using the time to hurry into the city and visit one of the nicer jewelers to buy Christen that beautiful ring she deserved. You used one of her other rings for measurement and finally left with the perfect choice.
'Can we talk?'
Your heart rate picked up when you sent her the text, surprised she hasn't actually blocked you. Not even a second later Christen was online, typing her reply while your heart felt like bursting out of your chest. It was as if she sat somewhere, waiting for a call or text from you.
'When?'
You wanted to burst into tears, happy tears. She was ready to see you and actually listen to whatever crappy bullshit you had to say. Christen always had the purest heart of them all.
'Meet me here in one hour.'
That would leave you with enough time to actually shower and appear somewhat normal once again, trying to feel like a decent human with a decent relationship.
You heard keys unlocking the door exactly one hour later. You jumped to your feet, awkwardly standing next to the couch, the ring in the pocket of your jeans. Your pulse sped up when your eyes laid sight on her.
So many mixed emotions were hitting you all at once. How good she looked, how much you loved this woman with everything that made you and how much you hated yourself for breaking her heart like that.
"So– here I am. Talk." She stopped a few inches in front of you and crossed her arms, maybe an arm length away, almost reachable for you.
It took you several seconds to find your voice and the right choice of words. "I'm sorry. No–let me talk and don't interrupt me. Just listen, please. Let me explain," You tried your hardest not to cry before even speaking two sentences.
"When you dropped to that knee and held that ring up, asking me to marry you, I didn't know what to do. It came so out of nowhere that I was scared of what was to come afterwards, somehow not really believing that you chose me to spend your life with? I ran away like a child and regretted it instantly. Christen, I love you more than anything, I do. I never loved anyone as much as you and if you let me I will make sure to prove it to you every darn day of my miserable life that just won't make any sense without you next to me. I want to explore the world with you, want to create the sweetest memories with you, but most importantly I want you as my wife. So this time I will ask and whatever your answer will be, it is what it is. Christen Annemarie Press, will you marry me?"
Dropping to your knee you grabbed the ring and held it up, a small lonely tear escaping your eye. You were out of breath, somehow feeling a bit lighter now that you spoke all those pent up thoughts.
"Yes."
You frowned, not knowing what was happening and what that 'yes' actually meant. Christen, sensing your confusion, interrupted your thoughts before you could say anything else.
"Yes, I'll marry you. Damn yes I will. I love you, Y/N, no matter what is going on between us. All I know is that you're my future."
Rushing towards your now fiancé you crashed into her arms, holding tight and never letting go again as you pressed your lips to hers before finally sliding that ring onto her finger.
"It's a beautiful ring, thank you. I love you." Hugging her tighter you buried your face into the crook of her neck and inhaled her scent, you could never get enough of that.
"I've missed you so much. Wait– that tickles, stop, baby." She giggled as you continued to run your nose along her flawless skin.
"I'll make it my personal mission to get you to laugh and smile at all times, for you are so beautiful when you do." You said and kissed her nose, finally feeling complete again.
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Sentence starters: 14, with Roman & Deceit??
Haha, long time, no write! We’re having a pretty poor time right now so I figured a little bit of Roceit would be in Order! Warning: I did not edit this in the slightest.
Summary: Roman has always been a little curious, but the pastry chef definitely takes the cake on this one.
Words: 3007
Quick Taglist: @chelsvans @dwbh888 @glitchybina @faithfulcat111 @felicianoromano @harrypotternerdprincess @holliberries @jemthebookworm @killerfangirl3 @musical-nerd18 @never-end1ng-suffering @nonasficcollection @silverflame-wc @stricken-with-clairvoyancy @the-sunshine-dims @themagicheartmailman @themultishipperchild @thenaiads @treasureofpriam @vianadraws
Read on Ao3 || My General Writing List || Prompt Page (it should also be stated that you don’t need to pick from this prompt page if you don’t want to. Just send me an idea and I’ll do my best :D)
The Point of This is....
“Here, Bite Down on this.”
Roman has had a lot of weird first meetings. As a kid he liked to wander around the town meeting knew people, which, of course, drove his mother up a wall the first ninety or so times that she had glanced away from him for a second and he had disappeared completely on her. Roman was just a curious type of kid. The first time he had been confused by a couple of workers who were fixing an outlet behind one of the counters at his mothers favorite little shop, and he had just wanted to know what they were doing.
They had told him! Which had been cool. Did you know there were wires all in the walls?! He hadn’t even realized that his mom had been frantically looking for him until she had grabbed his arm in a frantic panic and asked if he was alright, and then don’t you dare wander off again! What if something had happened?! Roman!
It had happened again anyway, the store clerk had been redressing a mannequin and it had been neat! Then window cleaner, then flower arranger from the flower shop, then the busker outside the Irish themed pub he wasn’t allowed to be near, then the sign flipper at the street corner who taught him to spin one of the smaller signs--
The point was that by the time Roman hit middle school he knew most of the “little people” by name, and they of course knew his. Roman knew that a lot of them called him by his full name because his mother used to scream it when he went missing,-- Roman Alexander Prince, if you don’t get back here right this instant-- but he learned a lot of cool things!
He could arrange flowers, knew when and where the most dense foot traffic was, knew how to flip signs and draw attention. He could Macgyver his way through most electrical circuits, had the sewers under his town fully mentally mapped out, and knew that if you hit the vending machine behind the laundromat just right, you could get a free snickers bar.
He liked learning knew things. And for the most part? People liked to teach him.
As he got older, he noticed just how heartbreaking that sort of thing was. When he held the ladder steady for the owner of the Mom-and-Pop grocer while the old man replaced the “N” of the sign, the man had casually mentioned that the last person who asked him how he was doing had been a family man who had stopped coming months ago.
Then the more he looked, the more he had seen it: the when he waved to the woman who worked the bakery her whole face had lit up like he had gifted her the world, when he bought the street performer a water they had almost broken down to tears right there on the street, when he had offered the man sitting alone at the park with his head in his hands a chance to pet his dog, the man had called him a “generous kid” and tossed him five dollars before he left considerably happier than he was when he arrived.
The point-- and yes, Roman did have a point-- the point of all of this, was that Roman liked people. He liked learning things, and he liked hearing the stories that people had to share.
He liked telling those stories.
Which would probably explain how he got here: Mindscape, the ever prestigious school for the gifted. Although “gifted” tended to be a relative term. Roman had met a lot more people here, all his age, who eyed him warily like his smile was something to be scared of.
(”It is!” Remus, his twin had cackled from across the table in the dining hall, as if they didn’t have the same exact face.)
Roman and Remus had gotten in together, both on accident: Remus had crafted an application for Roman, sent it in without Roman’s knowledge, and then hacked the School’s Admissions database and marked the application for acceptance.
Things should have gone really bad, because Remus hadn’t known that the School President, Thomas Sanders, checks each and every application and when he noticed an application had skipped most of acceptance process he started digging.
Things should have gone really bad then. Like really bad. Like Remus ends up in jail and Roman has to change his name and move countries, really bad.
Instead Thomas Sanders, had sent them both acceptance letters, and Remus was required to work in the IT department without pay and take all the computer application classes. Somewhere in the middle of that Remus had struck up some sort of deal with the cyber defense team where the Mindscape’s tech department spent all school year building their best unhackable code, and in the summer Remus got to take anything and everything he learned that year and try to break it.
Remus had been winning for two years now. Roman had seen the grown men reduced to tears the moment that Remus’s hands had started flying over the keyboard.
Again, the point to this-- Roman had been at this boarding school for two years now, barreling his way through the journalism and creative writing classes like they were tissue paper walls. He’s met a lot of people his age, and he’s witnessed a lot of weird quirks about them.
Like how that kid in the library who likes to sleep on top of the bookcases, and Roman had witnessed getting swatted with a broom so many times. He was a gymnast and an acrobat and really freaking flexible-- and he had told Roman to fuck off when he had tried to learn anything more than that.
Or like that artist who ran the yearbook club took pictures of everything. It had been pretty cute the way the puffball had insisted on taking pictures of the cracks on the side walk, the clouds in the sky, the rainbow made from the refraction of the light through the glass windows. They had called it “catching little pieces of happiness in everyday!” Which was much sweeter than Roman had been anticipating. “Oops! Sorry gotta go, kiddo!” They had said and then they had been gone taking more pictures before Roman could ask anything about them.
Or like that guy from his Civics class who had gotten way too competitive about the trivia game they had played in class. It wasn’t just trivia though: Roman had learned later that he apparently Logan Ackroyd, the Logan Ackroyd, who had won the American chess tournament for three year in a row now. Any game that Logan touched, reportedly, he won. Chess, Checkers, Othello, Jenga, even Tic-Tac-Toe, and he treated them each like a life or death situation.
The point is of this is everyone had a weird quirk about them.
Roman knew that, knows that.
Heck, even Roman had a weird quirk, which apparently was wandering the school halls after classes. And now that includes being dragged into one of those classrooms by the hoodie of his sweatshirt and then immediately having a fork of something shoved in his mouth.
“VIRGIL!” Another voice squawks, followed by a telltale click of a camera taking a photo, but okay, Roman is a little too busy choking on a fork to take in everything.
There is a hand on his back, and one on his chest, holding him surprisingly steady, while he basically dies-- and man, he did not think that he’d be dying at seventeen years old. Who knew that his mother would be right all those times she insisted that his habit of walking around aimlessly was gonna be the death of him?
There are tears in his eyes by the time he manages an inhale, and someone takes the fork back out of his mouth. The hand on his back is rubbing soothing circles and his lungs flutter weakly, like a butterflies wings.
“Dude,” A voice says boredly. Roman squints up at his attacker-- because yes this was an attack and Roman will forever be scarred by it-- and vaguely recognizes the purple patched up hoodie for the library acrobat. “I said “Bite down on this”, not choke and die on the floor.”
Roman coughs to dislodge the last bit of whatever food just got shoved down his throat.
“Please ignore him,” A smooth voice says, a new voice, and one that sounds exactly like silk on Roman’s ears. “Are you okay?”
The new person, the man who is holding Roman, is, in a word, pretty. Actually, no wait, not pretty; he’s gorgeous. He’s beautiful. He’s Michelangelo’s David come to life, an angel straight from heaven, the God Apollo himself taking a quick break from driving his sun chariot to walk among the mortals--
“Virgil, what did you do!” The breathtaking stranger yelps.
“I didn’t do anything!” The acrobat shoots back, although he looks worried, “I just put the fork in his mouth! Oh shit, dude come on, please don’t tell me you’re allergic to something-- Dee what was in that? I can’t go to jail for killing someone! I just got here!”
There’s another click and a giggle and Roman blinks himself to enough awareness to realize that beside the three of them, there’s also that photography artist and the Logan Ackroyd in the room, also what looks like a cake with three slices cut out of it.
“You aren’t going to jail,” Logan says, although he’s playing on a Nintendo Switch and isn’t paying all that much attention to what’s going on.
“It just a cake,” Dee adds, almost desperately and Roman’s knees really do go weak at that. A pretty man? Using that tone to address Roman? Roman’s surprised he’s still conscious at all. “Are you allergic to eggs? What about Wheat? Milk?”
“Deep breath, kiddos!” The person with the camera suggests, and Roman knows immediately that they are 100% aware that his flushed cheeks and lack of breath are not from an allergy. They take another picture and Roman dies a little more on the inside.
“Please...don’t let... my brother see that,” Roman coughs one more time, “I’m begging.”
The artist just laughs and takes another picture.
“No allergies?” The god beside him says and Roman finds him looking absolutely anywhere but at him.
“No allergies,” Roman confirms, “None at all. It’s all good. And you know I should be--”
“What did you think of it?” The acrobat interrupts. And when Roman just blinks he snaps, “The cake, Princey! Tell Dee that the cake was fine and he can stop banging his head on the table now.”
Roman chances a glance at the man holding him up, and yeah, he could see the faint red marks were he had obviously been hitting his head on something. Unfortunately, said man was also looking at Roman, looking for his answer to the question that was just asked of him and Roman has already forgotten what it was again.
His eyes were different colors, and that totally reminded Roman of that week in the summer when he hung around the ophthalmologist just outside of town. Roman had looked at a lot of eyes, learned a lot about eyes in that time, but really there was something different about those ones. One was a brilliant bright brown, like hickory and the other was glistening gold. He looked like something straight from a fantasy.
Roman’s fantasy.
“Hey,” The stranger says softly, “Are you okay, darling?”
And that’s the last thing Roman remembers.
Because he fainted.
Because the gorgeous, beautiful, ethereal stranger called him “darling” and Roman’s weak gay heart promptly shut off.
He comes to again, just a few minutes later-- long enough that his head is throbbing and his lungs hurt a bit and mere idea of moving sounds exhausting. He’s comfortable just fine where he is.
On the floor.
With his head in the perfect strangers lap.
“There you are,” The man gives him a nervous smile that makes Roman’s mouth dry out. “Do you remember where you are?”
“Heaven?”
Roman has many regrets in his life. Like that time he thought that crawling down the manhole would be fun. Or the weekend he spent hanging out in the courthouse, which had turned out to be incredibly boring. Or that time he brought dog treats to the dog park and ended up get ambushed by like seven dogs at once and broke his arm.
But this....answering that, and immediately hearing that all too familiar cackle that can only belong to Remus? Yeah Roman rates that at the top of Roman’s Regrets.
The stranger bites his lip but he’s grinning all the same. “Apologies. When you fainted we, called the emergency contact on your phone.”
“Remus is not my emergency contact,” Roman grumbles and weakly shuffles his limbs to sit up.
Remus wheezes, from where he’s situated with an arm over the artist and the acrobat respectively. “Like-- Hell! I changed that months ago!” Remus grins, “I wasn’t gonna miss a chance to laugh at you while you get carted away in an ambulance! You only die once Ro! I wanna be there for it!”
“I should have consumed you in the womb.”
“Butcha didn’t!”
“The intention was there.” Roman sways, and he really doesn’t like the way the floor shifts like waves of an ocean.
“Pussy,” Remus tosses out, just for the sake of having the last word. He pulls his arms back from around the other two and fusses with the little artist’s hair. “Alright, brats! That’s my cue to drag my dumbass gay twin away before he faints again. But this was fun! Lets do it again! This time Dee can even let Roman actually fall and crack his head on the floor instead of catching him!”
Roman’s ears burn, and he peeks at Dee with a morbid mortification, “You caught me?”
“Well I was already, holding you up so it wasn’t as much as caught you as you...ah,” there’s a twitch of his lips, “as you fell for me.”
The noise Roman makes is not in any way, shape, or form flattering.
Remus cackles again.
There’s a click and a giggle, “Sorry kiddo! That was just too good to pass up!” The artist bounces slightly. “You both should definitely come back though! We’d love to have the company!”
“No, we wouldn’t,” the acrobat interjects, and lets out a heavy breath when he’s elbowed by his friend.
“Yes, we would!” The artist says. “And next time you can even have some of Dee’s pastries!”
“That’s not necessary,” The stranger says quickly, “They aren’t that good--”
“Will you stop lying!” the acrobat says, “You literally got into this prestigious ass school for your pastries, dumbass. They’re good. Accept it already! Geez!”
The stranger rubs his neck and then his cheek, before turning back to Roman. “Perhaps you can be the judge of that then? Darling?”
Yeah, Roman’s knees are weak again, but he’s stubborn enough that he keeps standing. “I think I’d like that. Although, I can’t say I’m any kind of pastry expert.”
“We all have our faults, I presume.”
Roman’s heart beats a little faster. “And admittedly I will be a little bit bias.”
“A little bit?”
“Only a smidge,” Roman reports, “I’ve heard that good company can affect the taste of food.”
“You intend to be in good company?”
“If it’s yours I’m sure it will be.”
“Who knew there was a smooth talker under that blush of yours?”
“If you think this was smooth you should see--
Remus claps his hands loudly enough to make the acrobat flinch and Logan in the corner curse in Korean. “Okay yes we get it: You both are gayyyyyy!” Remus exclaims, drawing it out just enough that Roman feels a bit of the Cain Instinct(tm) in him rise up. “But if neither of you are going to start undressing to give the rest of us a show, then we need to go!”
“Remus!”
“I’m just saying!” Remus shrugs and then hooks an arm around Roman’s neck and pulls him towards the door, “Its not fair to the rest of us, if you keep being a tease!”
“I hope you step on a lego and fall into a pit of sharks.”
Remus messes with his hair, which seems to be his thing right now.
The others in the room call out their goodbyes, and Remus drags Roman away before he can get more than a sloppy wave. Its still embarrassing.
Actually everything that happened was embarrassing, from top to bottom, and there was absolutely no moment were it wasn’t completely mortifying. Not only did he choke on a piece of cake he didn’t even get to taste, but he gay panicked, and then gay fainted, and every second of it was recorded via camera snapshots. And late at night, when Roman is turning it over in his head and screaming into a pillow, he barely notices his phone flashing.
He’s already miserable, because they probably just invited him back to be nice, and he didn’t even know their names. And Remus was still laughing at him for everything, and everything just really sucked. He opens up his phone to check the message, ignoring the way the his screen burns his eyes.
There’s a text message.
An actual text message.
Stole your number hope you dont mind
Roman can’t breath. The phone in his hand vibrates again.
Oh and your heart. I stole that too. this is a ransom demand.
$40,000 in cash. Or a date to the coffee shop in town.
pls?
this is Dee Ekans btw
The baker?
oh fuck pls tell me this is the right number
roman?
And Roman rolls over and presses his face into a pillow and screams.
But really the point of all this is that Roman got the number of the cute guy. And maybe a date.
#roceit#roman sanders#deceit sanders#sympathetic deceit#remus sanders#Boarding School Au?#I guess it is#Look I just started writing and went with it#gay panic#gay fainting#there is nothing more gay than Roman
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Incantation of Incineration pt.2
>>>Read on AO3<<<
As we were blessed by a continuation of the GODLIKE fanart, I have decided to keep my word (for once). Check the picture out if you didn't yet, you are missing out O_O -----> https://twitter.com/NxngOna/status/1388902556693405706/photo/1
Anyway, this one is a bit longer and a tad more sinful than the first one, so beware.
Unless you are here for the filth, that is.
How does one control a demon?
That was the question at the forefront of Mikasa’s mind in the last week. Despite her doubts, despite all of her previous bad luck she finally managed to summon one but he was not obeying her in the slightest. The opposite in fact, she very much remembered his whispered threatening question.
“Do you feel in power?”
She didn’t, not back then, and Mikasa wanted to be prepared for the next time. Of course that there would be a next time! She had so many questions to ask, so many wishes to fulfill so many…
Ok, easy, first the controlling part.
The last time he was here the Demon was doing whatever he wanted. While it was only eating her out, for some reason, it was done out of his will and the goth was simply swept in it. Never again. Next time they meet, she will be the one in control.
Yet it was hard to fulfill such a wish.
The internet gave her dozens of websites, hundreds of articles and discussions, but combing through them Mikasa didn’t see anything that caught her interest. Searching the amazing book she found in the library, she didn’t find any help there either. If there was a demon-binding ritual, she missed it.
In her anguish the goth asked the smartest person she knew – her friend Armin.
“Ar, any idea how I could control a demon?”
He looked at her, pushing his glasses up a bit.
“What are you talking about?”
“I summoned one last week but I couldn’t make him do what I wanted.”
“I see…”, he didn’t believe her, of course he didn’t, but Mikasa didn’t mind that.
He would still help her because Armin was a ray of sunshine and the best friend a girl could ask for.
“Any specifics about this demon?”, he asked, “Might help me in my search.”
“Well, he was human-looking, but with horns and black claws. He also had strange markings under his eyes and there were torn shackles at his wrists.”
“Horns, markings, shackles…”, dutiful as ever, Armin marked it all down, “Okay, I’ll do some searching and see what I can find.”
Leaning over Mikasa hugged him, whispering a quiet thank you into his ear.
As always, Armin delivered.
It was in the evening when Mikasa was laying on her bed, eyes rowing over the text in her new spellbook when her phone pinged.
A: Found an article that matches the demon you told me about. Apparently you can bind him to you by the shackles.
M: what do I have to do?
A: You need a key which you have, use the one you keep wearing.
Mikasa did like to wear an old key around her neck, an old trinket she didn’t even remember where it came from.
A: The spell is described in the article, use that and the “Demon” should obey :)
Yea. “Demon”. Whatever.
M: thx, I owe you one <3
Opening the link Mikasa’s eyes quickly scanned the spell, muttering under her breath. She lacked a few key ingredients, the biggest one being a live bird (?) for some reason. The required red scarf – that was another thing that Mikasa owned, making her wonder just what kind of spell this was.
Luckily her parents were gone on another business trip and wouldn’t be back for another two weeks, giving her ample time to gather these things. She bought a canary in a pet shop, a new set of black candles and few flowers. Back home she made those into a flower crown, just as the spell required.
In the middle of the room stood the birdcage, the canary watching Mikasa prance around. The key was put in front of the cage, the flower crown around it. Last the scarf – the goth circled it around the crown before putting the candles in required positions, lighting them up.
There, that should be everything.
Keeping the article open on her phone Mikasa began chanting, strange words once again leaving her lips. Whatever those meant she had no idea, but the effect was almost immediate. First of all the candles snuffed out. Then the flower crown caught fire, burning into nothing in a split second. After that the scarf moved, flying towards her and wrapping itself around her neck without anyone touching it. Last it was the key – it turned on the ground with a screech and suddenly the birdcage sprung open, the canary flapping its wings and disappearing out of the window in a split second.
Mikasa stared at it all with wide eyes.
Well, that was quite something. When everything calmed and nothing moved anymore, she concluded the ritual. Hiding the birdcage and scarf and putting the key back around her neck, the goth prepared the usual pentagram with candles, pulling out the knife. Ready to cut herself under the eye again, she said the spell, raising the blade to her skin.
Yet before it could make contact, the smoke explosion was back.
Knocking her backward same as before, the Demon was there in full glory, eyes immediately flying to Mikasa. Thin lips twisted into a grin that exposed the sharp teeth.
“You don’t have to cut yourself anymore, my beauty, I have your scent now. When you call me, I will answer.”
Collecting herself from the ground, Mikasa took a deep breath and straightened, staring the demon in the eye. With just a slightly trembling hand she gripped the key around her neck, thrusting it towards him. It glowed, his shackles did too, and the demon’s face changed from smug to surprised.
“What is this?” he wondered out loud, raising his hand to inspect the torn chains.
“A spell I used.”, Mikasa said triumphantly, all giddy inside that it worked, “I bound you, you are now under my control.”
“Is that so…”
Slow, testing, he took a step towards her, the chains rattling slightly. Summoning all her mental strength Mikasa stood fast, clutching the key like a lifeline.
“S-Stop!”, she commanded the demon, praying to the dark god that the spell will work.
The demon’s whole body shook as he tried to take another step, muscles refusing to move.
“You…”, his eyes narrowed, a dangerous glint entering them, “You don’t know what you are playing with…”
With a grunt he threw himself against the invisible bonds, straining.
“Release me! Or I will make you regret it.”
Despite all these dangerous words, despite all the threats he was forced to stand still and Mikasa felt her lips curving into a smile. She won. Finally, she had a demon under her control.
“I don’t think that I want to do that.”, confident she circled the frozen statue, admiring his body now that she could take a good look, “I think that I will keep you.”
He had a lot of scars, crisscrossing all over his skin, cuts of all shapes and sizes. Fascinated by one that went around his throat, Mikasa reached out, running her fingers over it.
And that was a mistake.
Fast as lighting the demon’s hand caught her wrist, pulling her body against his. Suddenly staring upwards into his smirk, Mikasa felt all her newfound confidence melting away because there was pure rage hidden in the emerald orbs.
“That was a good spell you had prepared, witch, but unfortunately for you, I am very good at attaining my freedom.”
“I-…”, she tried defending herself but the demon wouldn’t let her speak.
His other hand came up, circling Mikasa’s neck and for a second she feared that he will choke her to death. That fear didn’t come true as instead of pressure she could feel his fingers drawing patterns into her skin.
“Let’s see how you like being controlled.”, he whispered, and suddenly there was searing pain on Mikasa’s neck.
She stumbled backward, released from his embrace, and fell to her knees, hands clutching her throat. It burned like hell itself and Mikasa screamed in pain, but as quickly as it appeared it was gone, leaving nothing but a memory in its wake.
Or not, as there was something hugging her neck now.
Carefully tracing the thing with her fingertips Mikasa identified a new choker. She had one before, a simple strip of black leather, but this one was different. It was more like a tight collar, adorned with metal spikes all around.
“How does it feel, being collared like a dog?”, the demon rumbled, getting her attention.
“I… Strange.”, she gulped, realizing that having this “gift” from a demon might not be a good thing for her wellbeing, “C-Can you take it off?”
“I can but I’m not going to. First I have to show you what amazing things it can do.”, he pointed one black claw towards the magic book, lying on Mikasa’s bed, “You do love spells, don’t you? And what better magic is there than demonic one.”
“Wha-“
Again, the demon didn’t let her finish.
“What’s your name?”, he asked.
Mikasa didn’t want to tell him. Names had power, even more so in magic, and telling yours to a demon is a bad move. But as soon as the question left his lips she found herself answering, unable to stop the words from tumbling out.
“Mikasa Ackerman.”
He grinned upon seeing her confusion.
“See? I own you now, mortal. As long as the collar is on you, I can make you do anything I want.”, his eyes raked all over her body, a hunger appearing in them – the same one that was there the last time they were together.
“Anything…”
The thin, abnormally long tongue slid out of his mouth, licking his lips.
“And there is a lot I want to do with you.”
Despite literally owning her right now, Mikasa didn’t hear any malicious intent in his voice. There was the primal hunger, lust, and also a fair bit of anger but no real hate or resentment. He would make her pay, but it would not be done in a way that she couldn’t handle.
The implications left not only a tingle of fear in her, but also a tingle of arousal, and the goth unconsciously pressed her thighs together to hide it. Only it didn’t escape the demon’s ever-seeing gaze.
“Stand up.”, was his next order and Mikasa did so, body moving on its own.
“Take off your skirt.”, this time her face boiled red as she mechanically obeyed, and still the demon wasn’t done with humiliating her, “And your stockings too.”
Just as she unclipped the first garter, a new order followed.
“Do it slowly. Give me a nice show, I like watching you.”
And she did so, rolling the black material down her legs in the most sensual way she could muster, unwilling and unable to meet the demon’s eyes. She could feel them though, as his gaze burned its way all over her pale legs, now bare of any clothing. With her lower half in nothing but the black panties Mikasa straightened, waiting on the next command from her infernal master.
He was breathing heavily now, she could hear, every exhale laden with maddening hunger for her. Watching her undress got all the fires going, it would seem.
“As much as I would like to get on with the fun, I do have to punish you for trying to bind me.”, he twirled his long fingers, “Turn around and bend over, hands on the bed.”
Again, her body mechanically obeyed, turning around and bending over, exposing her ass to him. And what an ass it was, even better than the demon remembered. Pale, firm, and perfectly shaped, the memories of it in his hands made his mouth go dry. Not to mention the thighs right under, because those deliciously thick and muscled legs…. He was beyond hungry.
Not yet, he reminded himself, first the punishment. Then the fun.
There was a clink behind her and because peeking was not forbidden she looked over her shoulder, seeing that one of the multiple belts came loose from the demon’s black pants. He was twisting the leather between his fingers, snapping it.
The image itself was almost enough to make her fall on her face.
“I believe that a few lashes with the belts will do you good, wouldn’t you agree?”
It wasn’t an order, she realized, it was a question. The demon, a literal demon from hell, was asking her consent. Normally that situation would be so funny that Mikasa would burst out laughing, but that did not fit what was happening inside her body.
Logically she should say no, of course, but logic didn’t have a place here. She summoned a demon – one that gave her some incredible oral pleasure during their first encounter, one she tried to bind, unsuccessfully, and one that was about to give her some good old spanking in retaliation.
Fuck, she wanted it, she wanted it so much.
Biting her bottom lip Mikasa nodded, but the demon wasn’t satisfied with that.
“Words, Mikasa, use those.”
This time it was an order but he didn’t use the magic collar and when the goth girl spoke it was completely out of her free will.
“Yes, I deserve it.”
“Were you a bad girl?”
“I was… I was a bad girl, sir.”
Mikasa added that last bit unconsciously, and from the deep grumble she could guess the effect it had on the demon. Ooh, he liked that.
“Where I come from, there is plenty of sinners like that, so I have a good idea on how to fix you.”, the buckle clinked as he swayed the belt, “I want you to count the lashes, can you do that for me?”
“Y-Yes, sir.”
A satisfied huff and a bit of silence after, making Mikasa wonder if…
The first blow landed on her ass, the slap of leather against skin loud. Taken by surprise she cried out, the flare of pain running through the whole body.
“One.”, she pushed out and was rewarded by a second sting. It was painful, sure, but it also sent pleasurable tremors towards her core. Mikasa was always a bit of pain enjoyer, and this rough treatment was something from her wildest dreams. Being punished by a demon was more like fanfiction than reality, but it was happening to her -right here and right now, and she couldn’t be more turned on.
By the fifth hit, there were tears in her eyes.
By the tenth she was dancing on her toes, clenching against the belt.
Fifteen was enough to satisfy the sadistic demon, and when she cried that number through her tears, the belt dropped to the ground. Suddenly Mikasa was picked up, turned around, and practically slammed against the wall. Her legs automatically hooked around the demon’s waist while his hands held her, one around the neck while the other caught her wrist and pressed it against the wall, immobilizing her.
He was sweating, droplets of liquid sliding over his scarred skin but it wasn’t because of the physical exertion. No, it was caused by the inhuman effort it took to hold himself back from ravaging the teary-eyed goth right here and there.
Even as a demon, he had certain standards.
“You took the whipping well, too well even. Tell me, do you like pain?”
“A little bit…”, she muttered, very conscious of the fire raging between her slick thighs.
A grin spread across his handsome features, the demon couldn’t help but admire her face, now that they were this close. Her grey eyes were regarding him with a hint of fear in them, but there was also the undeniable arousal smoldering, and he wanted to see that fire burn.
Letting go of her for a second the demon grabbed the bottom of her black top, bunched between their bodies, and pulled upwards, revealing her chest. Nice pair of firm tits, covered by a simple black bra, just as pale as the rest of her.
Fuck, he wanted to suck on them.
Returning his hand to its previous place, anchoring Mikasa’s wrist against the wall, the demon spoke up.
“I punished you so now we can move on to a more pleasurable activity. However - I may be a damned soul but despite your stunts I do not wish to force myself on you. So I’ll ask now, and I order you to answer me truthfully – do you want me to go on?”
The goth girl in his arms shook with what he guessed was pure lust, squirming against the restrictive hold he had on her body. Her midnight hair slid over his nose, the addictive scent reminding the demon of just how amazing she tasted.
Forcing himself to wait was torture, yet he held on.
Meanwhile, Mikasa’s mind was doing leaps and bounds all over the room. Her ass hurt but it was nothing compared to what was happening in the other place – she was beyond wet at this point, so turned on that stopping her hips from rubbing on the demon’s amazingly muscles stomach was a chore. Yes, she had to prevent herself from humping him like a sex-starved maniac. His words weren’t an order, just like last time, and when Mikasa spoke it was her own lust doing the talking, nothing else.
“Yes.”
“Do you want me to touch you?”, he continued.
“Yes.”
“Now…”, he leaned closer, next words a whisper, “ Do you want me to fuck you?”
“Hng... I…”
“Answer!”
“Y-YES! Please!”
The self-satisfied smirk grew even wider.
“Well, all you had to do was ask…”
Letting go of her wrist for the second time the demon moved his hand between her legs, rubbing her place of weakness through the dark underwear.
“So wet for me, so willing…”, gently he nudged her face with his nose, rubbing skin on skin, “Is this what you want so much? To be railed by a demon?”
PleasePleasePlease
Unable to speak from the sheer amount of want inside her, Mikasa settled on nodding rapidly.
The hand moved again, much to her dismay, this time stopping in front of Mikasa’s face. A bit of transmutation magic later the claws were gone, replaced by black fingernails.
“Open.”, an order this time and Mikasa’s mouth fell open immediately.
Pushing his fingers between her lips, a new command followed.
“Suck.”
Again she obeyed, swiping her tongue alongside those long digits.
“As much as I want to take you right now, I must stretch you out a bit first.” The demon went on monologuing, his eyes glued to her face, “I’d prefer it if you screamed in pleasure when I fuck you, not in pain.”
Those words went right into Mikasa’s core as she throbbed, impatient to finally have him touch her. Maybe sensing her eagerness the demon pulled the fingers out, dropping his hand between her legs instead. Panties nudged aside and suddenly he was rubbing her directly, fingers parting her dripping pink lips. A slight tap on her swollen clit had her gasping for air, but the opened mouth proved to be a mistake.
The demon practically attacked her, lurching forward to press his lips against hers. The abnormal tongue was back, once again slipping into her mouth and caressing the familiar places. At the same time, his digits finally pushed inside her, slipping into Mikasa’s wetness with a somewhat disgusting sound. The moan forced from her throat by the penetration was swallowed by him, keeping her silent.
For now.
Even without the main treat it was still a full meal. The demon fingered her expertly, curving his digits to rub the good places inside while also keeping his thumb occupied by toying with Mikasa’s clit. The kisses were rough and breathtaking, sucking any oxygen from her and he only left her lips to attack the neck instead, biting and kissing everywhere, renewing the faded lovebites from a week ago. Again and again, those sharp teeth sunk into the porcelain skin and Mikasa felt like she was going to go crazy.
Not even fucking her yet but she was already on the edge. The demon sensed it, of course, having his fingers deep inside her, feeling the contractions of her walls grow faster and more desperate. Smirking into her skin, a single word fell from his lips.
“No.”
The collar burned around Mikasa’s throat and she found her body obeying, disregarding her wishes. On the edge but not falling, she found herself unable to climax, somehow being prevented from doing so by vile demon magic.
“You bast-“
Her protest was cut short because her lips were slammed by his own, stealing Mikasa’s ability to express herself. Whining in protest she was rudely ignored by the demon, who took his time to scissor the fingers inside her instead, stretching her open, preparation for what was to come.
Despite being denied her release Mikasa’s body was more than enjoying this. She was moaning into the kiss, writhing on his fingers, ready and waiting for him. Seven hells be damned, he couldn’t wait any longer. Tearing the panties away with a flick of his wrist and letting his pants dissolve into a puff of black smoke, the demon grabbed his painfully hard length as he angled it correctly against the inviting wetness.
Push.
Mikasa’s eyes widened, and her mouth fell open when she felt the head of his member parting her. She didn’t get a chance to look at it but judging from how it felt the demon was rather well endowed. The girth was impressive, stretching her beyond anything she felt before right down to her limits. This was a lot she was taking, and the demon was unyielding, hands gripping her waist as he impaled her, inch by inch. Insistent he forced himself in and Mikasa couldn’t do anything about it.
Yet her body accommodated to this fullness and the unpleasant feeling was replaced by a pleasant one. He went on and on until she feared that he will ram himself all the way into her guts but just as she was about to ask him to stop, the demon was fully sheathed.
Mikasa had never felt this filled in her life. The head of his member was pressed against the deepest part of her sex, no more space and no more length combining.
“Fuck,”, he cursed, “we fit together perfectly.”
On her part the goth couldn’t say a word, so full of him that thinking was impossible. Not that the demon mind that.
Gripping her waist he slowly pulled out, letting his length rub all the nice places inside her. When only the tip remained he reversed his move, pushing in again. In it went with a wet sound, out it went glistening with her juices, and he almost went feral upon seeing that.
Pushing down the need to ravage her, to split her open by ramming himself inside with full strength he continued this gentle dance of his hips, forcing her body to get used to him. Only when he felt her muscles weakening - when she gave way did he speed up.
In and out like a jackhammer, the demon was finally rutting into her with added strength and Mikasa couldn’t take it. She whined and moaned and gasped, unable to control her body at all. Her head fell back, knocking at the wall while her fingers curved against his back. She was holding onto him for dear life, black fingernails creating bloody lines in their path and adding to the plethora of scars on the demon’s back.
Still she couldn’t climax, still the collar’s magic prevented her from doing so and the goth could feel her sanity slipping away. She would beg if she could but Mikasa’s voice wasn’t of any use to her, anytime she opened her mouth only a sound of pure pleasure came out.
Helplessly open, Mikasa’s “Ah-Ah-Ah” was a direct feed to the demon’s ego. Oh, and what an egoist he was. Her voice was one thing, but when she throbbed down there – that was a feeling the demon etched into his memory with each thrust.
Edged, led on, and denied with the orgasm at the border of her vision, Mikasa was truly losing it.
She couldn’t speak so she screamed, screamed in pure desperation because the demon was now ramming the deepest part of her over and over again, grunting into her neck. Mentally she begged – with her eyes, with her touches, with her legs that squeezed his waist.
This was some truly hardcore fucking she was on the receiving end of, and Mikasa needed to let go, she would go crazy otherwise. The coil in her stomach was wound impossibly tight but unable to snap and it was getting too much to handle. The tears that fell from the grey eyes slipped over the red cheeks and landed on the demon’s body, finally waking him up from whatever pit of pleasure he was in.
Watching her, listening to her, and feeling her all around him, the demon deemed the punishment complete. Not even slowing down in the wild hammering of his hips, the slaps of flesh against flesh echoing through the room, he spoke. Three words, one sentence, and it was the most beautiful sound that Mikasa ever heard in her life.
“Cum for me.”
The collar’s magic was gone, the barrier dissipated, the coil snapped and the dam broke. Mikasa howled, her eyes rolling back and vision going white, black spots dancing all over it. The orgasm ripped through her entire being, from the tips of her curled toes to the ends of her sweat-matted midnight hair. She clutched to the demon because he was the only link to reality that she had, and the goth had to hold onto something otherwise her mind threatened to break completely, swept away by the overwhelming raw pleasure.
Sensing that if he kept it up she would truly go insane the demon slowed down, letting himself fully enjoy this feeling. Her walls fluttered like the wings of a trapped butterfly, the already tight passage grew even tighter and pulsed around his whole length. It felt amazing, out of this world and if he wasn’t a demon he would call it heavenly.
The slight wiggle of her hips woke him up from that place, putting him back to reality. Mikasa was watching him with wide grey eyes, pupils completely blown, the movements suggesting that she wanted to go down from her perch against the wall. She probably thought that this was it, that one mind-shattering orgasm is enough of a gift.
She was wrong.
“None of that.,” he denied her, tightening his grip on her sweat-slicked body, “I am far from being done with you.”
With those words, the most intense night of the goth’s life began.
During his aggressive fucking Mikasa’s remaining clothes, namely the black top and bra, were torn to shreds, leaving her in nothing but the spiked collar around her neck. In some strange need to bare her completely the demon even snapped her own choker away, leaving only the one he gifted her on.
The key was also allowed to stay and it dangled uselessly between her now fully exposed breasts, reminding Mikasa of her failed attempt to capture the demon. Now she was paying for it, when his sharp teeth closed around a nipple, sweetly tormenting the sensitive flesh.
Overall the demon took his time with her chest, kissing, licking, groping, and biting all over her breasts. Her chest was ravaged and Mikasa was bound to have so many bruises bloom on the skin tomorrow. Yet that was a problem for the future Mikasa to handle, the current one cared only about how great it felt, to have the demon’s teeth and tongue all over her tits.
She was taken in more positions and in more places than Mikasa could even count. The bastard spiked her pleasure with pain, slapping her ass while taking her from behind, irritating the welts that didn’t even get a chance to fully form.
Every suitable, and some unsuitable, place in her room was defiled by their activities as she was being maneuvered here and there by his unyielding touch. The demon expertly shifted his torment from denial to overstimulation, giving her more than she could handle and then some. He fucked her right into an orgasm and then right through it, holding her writhing body as she lost her consciousness in an unending stream of pleasure.
A sharp bite into the neck woke her, but if Mikasa thought that she was getting a break she was wrong. It felt like the longest night of the goth’s life and it was far from over.
Mikasa came a lot, losing count early into the debauchery, but the demon never finished, holding his release back. He also never tired, his demonic stamina far outpacing the one of a poor mortal. While at the start Mikasa was an active participant in their activities, by the end of it she was practically limp, praying to the dark god that she will survive this endless assault on her body and mind.
When the morning sun peeked at them from behind the windows, when the demon saw that his partner was on the verge of total blackout from sheer exhaustion, slipping in and out of consciousness, did he allow his iron self-control to break.
Coherent enough to pull out at least, he decorated her muscled stomach with spurts of unnaturally hot release. Wouldn’t want any half-demons running around now, would he? It was a lot, a night's worth of it, and Mikasa felt some splash as high as her face, but she was too far gone to care. Being a perfect demonic gentleman he even cleaned after himself with a muttered spell.
Only after himself though, so Mikasa’s filth was left behind for her to take care of. Whatever it was the limitation of the spell or just the demon’s twisted sense of humor, that would remain a mystery.
Just like that, it was over.
He was slipping out of her embrace and soon would be gone, leaving Mikasa with nothing but the ache and exhaustion. A deep part of her needed something, anything to hold onto, a word to connect these memories to, and “the demon” didn’t cut it anymore. She reached out, weakly grasping his wrist but he didn’t pull away, turning back to look at her.
“Please…”, she whispered, only half-coherent, “What’s your name?”
“My name? Demon’s names have powers, great powers, we do not give it lightly.”
“You know mine, it’s only fair.”
He snorted.
“A mortal name in exchange for an eternal one? Hardly equal.”
“Please…”, she begged again, “I want to remember you by it.”
For some reason he couldn’t explain, those words were tugging at the very base of the demon’s existence. He shouldn’t be this affected yet this mortal, this exhausted, sweaty, and filthy mess that could hardly string two words together after a night of demonic sex, this bundle of trembling muscles and pale skin marked by blooming bruises he left behind, this beautiful piece of ass that was welted by his belt just had power over him.
It wasn’t any spell the demon knew, but it was perhaps the most powerful pull he ever felt in his whole damned existence. He couldn’t say no to her.
He simply couldn’t.
“Eren.”, he said, “My name is Eren.”
Leaning down he pushed some of the sweat matted hair away from her angelic face.
“I hope that I won’t have to wait long until you summon me again, Mikasa.”
Giving in to the temptation the demon pressed a last kiss to her forehead, strangely loving and very un-demonic. And with that he was gone, disappearing back to wherever he came from.
On the ruined bed Mikasa sighed, already missing his warmth.
Was there a way to make him stay longer? Maybe even… permanently? The thought of having a full-time demon boyfriend made her giggle and she pressed her face into the pillow to muffle it.
The leather choker-slash-collar was still on her neck, gently tight around the skin, most likely left behind as a gift, and Mikasa already knew that it would become her everyday accessory. The spiked looked might be a bit too aggressive for most people, but she couldn’t care less. It was a gift from a demon, her demon, and she would treasure it.
Eren. His name was Eren and she would be seeing him again.
Soon.
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Broken Me...
Ch. 2
Summery: The Dallas Convention couldn't have come at a worse time for Jensen. His world fell apart earlier that morning, but was expected to just act like everything was normal. You and a friend were at the convention for her birthday. Life hasn't been that great for you either, but a forced meeting on stage changes two worlds. Will you be able to put this broken man back together again...
Series Warings: Cheating, shitty marriage, Danneel is a bitch, I unfortunately have to put that as a warning because some people tend to get turnt up about it if you don’t... Smut, Crying, Suiside Attempt, brief discription of suicide attempt and recovery, depression, hints of self loathing, language. I think that’s it... Suicide Trigger warnings will be placed over each chapter!
Chapter Warnings: Singing in front of a crowd, crying Jensen, freaked out reader I guess? Language.. I think that’s it..
Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Reader
Word Count: 2315
A/N: BINGE READ TIME!! As always all mistakes are mine! Please do not copy my work! Feedback is gold!! Hope you all enjoy this one!!
Want More? Check out my masterlist!!
****MASTERLIST****
Rob and the band had really outdone themselves tonight, and you hadn't had this much fun since your ex-fiance had taken you to Austin,Texas when Nathaniel Ratcliffe was playing on Austin city limits.
It had been a long, hard transition to being alone...
You and Damon had been together for almost five years...
Learning how to live 'alone' was difficult to say the least, especially when you thought you had found your person, only to be proven very wrong....
Thank God y/f/n had been letting you crash in her guest room until you got your shit together, because when you two separated you didn’t know what was going to happen to you, or where you were even going to stay....
The two of you had been friends since kindergarten, and she knew you better than anyone else. So she knew not to push you into another relationship with some other douche bag just so that you would 'get over' Damon like the rest of your family were trying to do.
"Okay guys, I know there's one person who you've all been waiting for most of the night."
The crowd was already screaming, and Rob was laughing at the fact that he didn't even have a chance to finish the sentence before the people started screaming.
"Mr. Jensen Ackles could you come out here please sir!!" He yelled into the mic, and everybody lost their minds.
The sheer energy in the room was almost breathtaking..
Jensen came jogging up the stairs, and walked toward the mic as the crowd continued to scream.
You have watched a lot of con videos since discovering SPN, probably to the point of a mold obsession, still on almost all the videos Jensen seemed…. Lighter? Then he did right now.
The smile he wore now was cold, and unnatural.
Forced….
Not quite reaching his eyes....
"Hello Dallas." He all but growls into the mic as the band starts to play the intro to Whipping Post.
In that instant you were completely lost in the music, forgetting about your freating, and your habit of over analyzing everything, and just enjoying the moment .
If you thought Jensen was hot just from watching him on TV, the man looked even better up close, and you were completely lost in him, must like you were sure just about everyone else in the room was. He had this ability to capture the stage, and the presents of everyone in the room. Not to mention he was extremely talented…
You closely watched every move he made, letting the music overtake you, bringing you to a place we're for just a moment there was no pain, no bad memories, no heart break.
Just Jensen and his voice...
As he wrapped up the chorus of the song he came to the edge of the stage. Propping his Foot on the speaker close enough that you could almost touch him.
When he looked down at you a cocky smirk spread across his face, and he winked.
You damn near passed out, and your friend was next to you completely losing her mind. Grabbing your arm, shaking you screaming "Holy shit Jensen Fucking Ackles just winked at you!!"
You couldn't believe it… Surely he was just playing with the crowd, and only winked because he saw the camera sitting between the two of you...
As the song wrapped Jensen and Rob lean over, and whisper something to each other. Rob then looked your way, smirking at you. You didn’t really notice it though, because when Jensen walked back into the house lights you noticed he had the same shirt on as the guy from the elevator….
It was in that moment that you knew he’d heard you talking to Y/F/N about singing with him, and you had this sinking feeling you were about to be fuck, and not in the fun way...
"Shit." You said out loud, and Jensen stood there smiling at you like he'd read your lips.
"What's wrong?" Y/f/n yelled over the noise of the crowd. Noticing the color drain from your face all of the sudden..
"Jensen was in the elevator, he heard our conversation. He heard what you said about singing with him on stage." You yelled back at her over the noise, and to your horror she burst out into a fit of laughter.
You had never wanted to strangle someone so bad, but there was a room full of witnesses, you did make a mental note to get her back for this when you got back to the motel room.
"Hey Jensen," Rob said loudly over the mic. "What about that story you were telling me backstage... About the girls that you and Jared overheard in the elevator on the way to the concert tonight? Something about her friend wanting you to sing with her for her birthday? Wouldn't it be hysterical if they were, oh I don't, right in the front row over there." Rob says pointing right at you.
The spot light following his finger, landing right in you, and if you could have fallen through the floor, and disappeared you would have done it.
You tried to hide by sinking back into the crowd, but to no avail...
Jensen had already walked off of the stage, and was standing only about a foot in front of you now with his hand out.
"Come on." He says, grinning at you. "It's your friend here's birthday wish after all. We can’t disappoint her.." He gave you another winking, and you wanted the floor to open up so you could jump in. The crowd all started making noises at once, and your friend started pushing you toward him..
Looks like this was happening, and there was nothing you could do about it without looking like the world’s biggest asshole there ever was..
Reluctantly you grabbed his hand, and allowed him to pull you to the stage.
The crowd cheered for you, but you didn't really hear any of that. All you could concentrate on was Jensen's hand intertwined in your own.
Feeling ever callous.
His strong grip.
Your skin tingling wherever his skin touched yours.
"Now if I heard your friend correctly you sing right?" He said, placing a mic in front of you, beautiful forest green eyes meeting your own y/e/c eyes.
"That's what they tell me." You say, never breaking eye contact with him.
"And, if I heard correctly, she wanted you to sing with me as her birthday present." He was smirking at you now, clearly enjoying himself.
"That's what I heard."
You never broke eye contact with him as you two seemed to continue the game of twenty questions he was playing with you.
"Well my final question Ms.?" He said, pausing for you to say your name.
"Y/n"
"Right, sorry, I forgot to ask you that." He threw his head back into one of his whole body laughs before continuing..
"If I heard correctly again she also requested the song Picture, by Kid rock and Sheryl Crow." He finally broke contact with you, and was typing on the tablet Rob had sat in front of him.
"That's what she said." You retort back to him, earning yourself a smart ass look that before he continued…
"Well it just so happens Google was able to knock the dinosaur shit off this ancient ass song, and show us the lyrics." He fired back at you, and the crowd roared with laughter.
"Well I'll be damn why not, I'm already up here." You say sarcastically, motioning around you, and Rob nearly feels backwards laughing at you, Jensen gave you his best bitchface as he motioned to the band for them to start to play.
Your momentary cocky sarcasm faded, and your stomach was doing flips with nerves. Until you heard his smooth yet ruff voice melt into you with the melody. Pulling you into your happy place.
Living my life in a slow hell
Different girl every night at the hotel
I ain't seen the sunshine in three damn days
Been fueling up on cocaine and whisky
Wish I had a good girl to miss me
Oh Lord I wonder if I'll ever change my ways
I put your picture away
Sat down and cried today
I can't look at you
While I'm lying next to her
I put your picture away
Sat down and cried today
I can't look at you while I'm lying next to her
He looks at you and half heartedly smiles. You could tell he was a little nervous as to what was about to come out of you, for all he knew you couldn’t sing your way out of a wet sack, boy didn’t he get the surprise of his life as your voice blended in with the music, sounding almost as good a Sherl herself. Turning he gave the crowd an approving nod, you even got a few cheers out of it..
I called you last night in the hotel
Everyone knows but they won't tell
But their half-hearted smiles tell me something just ain't right
I've been waiting on you for a long time
Fueling up on heartaches and cheap wine
I ain't heard from you in three damn nights
I put your picture away
I wonder where you've been
I can't look at you while I'm lyin' next to him
I put your picture away
I wonder where you've been
I can't look at you while I'm lyin' next to him
Jensen was now circling around you, pulling you closer to him with one arm, fully into making a performance out of this now that he was sure you could do it. You followed his lead not wanting to look like an idiot, facing him now you start with your line again.
I saw ya yesterday with an old friend
It was the same old same how have you been
Since you've been gone my world's been dark and grey
You reminded me of brighter days
I hoped you were coming home to stay
I was headed to church
I was off to drink you away
As he sang his lines to you and you to him you could almost see pain there, and it threw you… When he got to his last line he threw everything he had into it, and a stray tear fell down his face. He quickly duked he face to the other side of yours in what probably looked like a very intimate touch to the crowd, when really he was just hiding to wipe his face. He recovers quickly as the two of you finished the song, and none one was ever going to be any the wiser...
I thought about you for a long time
Can't seem to get you off my mind
I can't understand why we're living life this way
I found your picture today
I swear I'll change my ways
I just called to say I want you to come back home
I found your picture today
I swear I'll change my ways
I just called to say I want you
To come back home
I just called to say I love you
Come back home
As the crowd cheered he bolted off the stage, walking as fast as he could toward the stairs, behind the curtain, and out of your sight..
Rob grabbed your hand holding it in the air like you won a wrestling match, but you were pretty sure he was just trying to get your attention away from a fleeing Jensen...
"Y/n and Jensen everybody."
There were cameras, and phones videoing everywhere. Y/f/n was practically hyperventilating in her seat, you were a little glad you couldn’t see the whole crowd, because you were almost sure you would have passed out now that the adrenaline was fading...
When you went to exit the stage off to the side, Richard grabbed your arm and pulled you to the side of the stage out of everyone's view.
"What the hell was that? Why did Jensen run off the stage?" Richard said, and for a moment you just stood there shocked, and confused at his behavior.
Then it hit you, Jensen wasn’t acting like you thought he might have been while you were singing..
He really was crying…
"I don't know!"
Your Stomach fell to your feet, and you wanted nothing more than to get away from everyone in that moment. Jensen wasn’t acting, something was wrong, and he was trying to hide it, so you weren't about to tell Richard that Jesnen was crying..
Just as you were about to panic, you feel a huge hand grab your shoulder, and Jared’s voice boom from behind you over the music.
"It wasn't you." He said to you, giving your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Jensen’s just got some personal things going on right now, and he needed to get off the stage, he’s fine. Go and enjoy the concert. You were friggin' awesome up there!"
He pulls you into a tight hug, giving Richard a stern look over your shoulder that you didn't see..
“Thanks" you say, hugging him back before practically running back to your seat. Leaving a very confused Richard to talk to Jared alone.
You slid back into the crow as random people high-five you, and slap you on the back.
You were determined not to tell Y/f/n anything was wrong. Whatever Jensen had going on was obviously personal, and you did not want to be the one to start rumors, or throw him under the bus for people to question him about what was wrong.
So you pushed the worry down and tried your best to slow your rapidly beating heart, determined to keep what happened on that stage to yourself if it killed you...
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A summer job at the Dole pineapple cannery, graveyard shift 10 PM to 6 AM.
A long bus ride into and out of town.
Two teens, shy beside each other.
Written for NaruHina 2020 August - Cultures/Around the World
Rated G
Inspired by “Torch Song” by @mmmbuttery (emmykay)
Here we go, a story I've worked on since November of last year. Despite the months of creation, this story is simply boy meets girl.
This one is close to my heart, and I've second-guessed posting it.
It's loosely based on my parents' high school stories and how they met, and the experiences from many recorded accounts of people from that generation, the 1970s. I wrote this mostly with the intention of diving into and imagining their time period.
Finally completed, of course it’s late for August, in true spirit, I stay on island time. This story is titled after “About You” by Cecilio & Kapono, a 1975 Hawaiian pop classic.
One Shot - About You
The bus bumps and lurches on the potholes.
She notes when they pass by a friend’s house, lit only by the dim orange street lamps over dark driveways. There are so few cars out on the road that every time the bus pulls over and the door opens, she can hear the high-pitched hum of crickets in the grass. It’s all a familiar rhythm that might have put her to sleep on any other night. But she already took a long nap, readying her internal clock for the new schedule.
She’ll be taking this route for the rest of the summer, heading from the bus stop next to the local library straight to the cannery.
It feels alright, better than she was expecting. She was worried it would feel lonely--her friends are all working the cannery, too, but in the daytime. She wanted the extra nickel the night shift earns, bringing her up to $1.40 per hour.
She’s always thinking ahead--the more money she manages to save now for business college, the less she will need to work later.
The bus slows down to a stop, picking up probably the last passenger before it gets on the freeway straight to town.
She relaxes into her seat, settling in for the drive out of the suburbs.
“Hinata?”
That’s weird that someone would know her at this hour.
She turns her face away from the window and sees him standing in the aisle, as if he was about to sit down in the row in front of her. “N-Naruto?” She regrets her stutter. She just wasn’t expecting to see him. At all.
“Hey! Howzit?” He looks genuinely surprised to see her, too.
“Good...” She returns his bright grin with a shy smile of her own. She tucks a lock of loose hair behind her ear. “I’m heading to the cannery.”
“You working cannery, too?”
“Yeah...are you?”
“Yup. Gotta make dat extra nickel, yeah?” He smiles disarmingly as she nods, and he takes a seat.
She wants to relax. But she can’t.
Because it’s him.
All 5 feet 9 inches of beautiful boy sitting in front of her on a relatively empty bus. He’s taller than the average local Japanese, due to his hapa blood. And as if height wasn’t enough to make him attractive to all the girls, he’s funny. And clever. Athletic and nice. A little rascal, but that only increases his charm. She has so much adrenaline pumping through her from that one tiny conversation, she knows she’ll be exhausted before they even get to Honolulu Harbor.
-
The forewoman, a middle-aged Portuguese lady, takes her and another girl named Tenten to the lockers. “Wear dis.” She passes them a white apron and hairnet. “You girls get gloves?”
They both nod, pulling out their plastic gloves, required in the job description.
The lady glances at the gloves, bored expression unchanging. “Follow.”
Hinata tucks all of her hair up into the net, and she knows she probably looks like an enoki mushroom, dressed now all in white.
They follow the forewoman to the assembly floor.
“Here.” She hands them knives with the same carelessness of someone who’s been doing this for ages. “Take all da extra skin off cuz da machine no get ‘m all, look, but gotta do ‘m fas’ kine ah. No let da pines go down widdout cleaning ‘m,” she explains, pointing and waving at the conveyor belt.
Hinata nods. Four girls stand silently before a machine that’s spitting out bright yellow, skinned pineapples. They grab at them quickly, and then with practiced flicks of their wrist, they nick off the remaining bits into slots for the rubbish. They put the pineapples back down on the belt, where the fruit runs along to another set of girls, who give them another checkover. Further down, the fruit runs into a machine with circling blades that chop them into slices.
Rows and rows of young women dressed in white aprons with mushroom-netted heads stand around conveyors and machines.
Young men cross over the upper ladders and walkways carrying pineapples to dump into the machines and sticks to poke at the fruit in the chutes to prevent jamming.
The smell of pineapples is pervasive, sickly in its sweetness.
Not too much later, a bell shrills throughout the warehouse, and she’s taking over for a girl who’s now off-duty. She grabs at the pineapples, turning the weighty fruit over in her palm and cutting brown spots of skin off with the knife as quickly as she can. Droplets of pineapple juice stick to her gloves, and soon enough, the juice is dripping down the latex.
She’s not thankful for the gloves for long.
The juice runs down, and every stretch of her arm to grab at the fruit or place it back down feels sticky in the crook of her elbow.
Minutes turn into hours of watching pineapples.
She has no idea how the world eats so many pineapples.
How is it possible that people love pineapples this much? That the machinery is rarely turned off? That all of the state’s teenagers are employed every summer to work the fields and machines practically 24/7?
As unfathomable as it is, she finds a strange awe for the tropical fruit that she never had before. To pass the time as she trims the skin, she imagines where these pineapples are going. Who’s going to buy these pineapples. What country they’ll end up in and what language the people speak there. And whether they have ever seen a whole pineapple before.
But then again, maybe they’re all just going to the Mainland. Women who look like the movie stars with perfectly curled, blonde hair will open the cans for their families.
The bell rings, the machines stop.
They have 30 minutes.
The more veteran workers zip off to the lunchroom, not waiting for anyone.
Hinata smiles tiredly at Tenten.
“Whew,” the Chinese girl sighs.
Hinata nods in agreement. “I never seen so many pineapples before, I think.”
“Yeah, me, neither.” Her brows raise to emphasize the point.
-
By the time they get off at 6 in the morning, dawn is breaking, traffic is slowly building along Nimitz Highway, and she knows she must absolutely stink of pineapples.
But Naruto waves and stands beside her as they wait for the bus, as if he doesn’t care. Maybe he can’t smell her, desensitized now after so long in the warehouse. “Morning, Hinata,” he laughs, and the joke is not lost on her.
She smiles weakly, only his good attitude motivating her. “Good morning,” she manages to reply. She’s too exhausted to feel shy about standing beside her crush. After all, she was standing for the last several hours. All she wants is to sit down.
“How wuz it?” he asks conversationally.
She pinches her lips into a tight frown. “I had to trim the pines at the ginaca.” She gestures halfheartedly with her hands, showing him the flick of an imaginary knife she used. All night. She’s almost certain that she’s the machine now. “What did you do?”
“Oh, wuz pretty neat! I jus’ had to keep da cans moving on da belt an’ stick da lids inside da kine, machine, and then the cans pop out. I did da tops.”
She blinks at him. Forces a weak smile out that she barely feels in her heart. Sounds easy… But that’s to be expected, after all, women usually handle food anyway.
“No can wait fo’ sit down, yeah!” he laughs. He doesn’t sound tired, but it occurs to her that maybe he never does. His natural excitement is what makes him popular in the first place.
She nods.
When the bus pulls up to the curb, Naruto lets her get on in front of him.
The bus driver pulls a face as she pays.
She frowns, a hot blush spreading over her cheeks. She tried to clean up as best she could after her shift, but apparently, it really was all for naught.
“Go in da back!” the driver directs, none too friendly.
She does so, even though the front seats aren’t full.
Naruto laughs outright as he pays, unashamed at his own stink. “What, uncle, wen try fo’ wash off, still stay pilau?”
“Eesh,” the driver utters in response to the teen’s cheekiness.
She doesn’t know how he’s not embarrassed, nor how he’s able to talk back to strangers like it’s nothing. It’s just another case in point of her admiration and curiosity of him. She picks an aisle-facing seat, and, to her surprise, Naruto sits right next to her, his knees spreading open.
She’s not as tired as she thought.
Nerves race up her legs. She stares at her hands, which she carefully places on her knees, which are closely pressed together as ladylike as possible. Not a single part of her touches him. She thinks she might die if their legs touch.
And that’s how she doesn’t doze off on the long ride back home.
-
He meant to brag to his friends about working graveyard shift when he saw them that first weekend. Sure, the hours are junk, but, Ho, should see da chicks!
Particularly the one he rides the bus with. Hinata Hyuuga. A small, Japanese girl. Brains and looks. Not to mention her unusual, light eyes, making you question her race. But, nah, no real question about it, she’s Japanese through and through with her shy, quiet manner. She’s someone he imagines could win the Cherry Blossom Festival pageant with her smooth skin and round eyes. He and the guys always steal a poster of the new year’s contestants from the supermarket window. Pictures of pretty Japanese girls’ profiles all lined up, free to admire. She could definitely win. If she ever tried. But she’s not very personable.
Not that that ever stopped him from talking to whoever he wants to talk to.
Yet he ended up not mentioning anything about Hinata to his friends. Not the next week, either.
Somehow, she just comes off as out-of-his-league. At least, he’s certain that’s what his friends would say. Just mentioning her would probably earn him jokes. He’s pretty sure she’s in all the high, smart classes. But he doesn’t know much about that--and she’s a year younger than him. He only knows her because his social club had a gathering with hers last year, invited by Sakura. There’re lots of pretty girls in that social club, and, unusually, it has girls over two grade levels. Just the younger girls didn’t catch his attention last year.
Needless to say, he’s thinking about her now.
Not much else to think about while he drops lids into the machine. It’s monotonous work, but he knows now that his job is way, way better than Hinata’s.
-Two weeks ago-
His jaw dropped when he saw her on the bus the second night.
She had covered her arms self-consciously with her hands when he got on.
Of course, that action was what drew his attention.
Bright. Red. Streaks and bumps. A rash. Mottling her fair skin in the crook of her elbows to the middle of her forearms. Both sides.
“From da pines?” he asked incredulously.
She nodded, her eyes turning down, as if somehow the rash was a personal fault.
He looked away, realizing his staring was only making her feel worse. “You have da kine..sensitive skin?” He wondered belatedly if talking about it would only make her feel worse worse.
“Umm...yeah…” Her voice sounded even quieter than her usual.
He frowned awkwardly, though she didn’t see it. He sat down beside her, still looking away. “Jeez. Das real junk.” He swallowed back his strange feeling of guilt. Her pain wasn’t his fault. Her job placement wasn’t his fault. So why did he feel like he was partially responsible...? “Uh, dere anyting fo’ do about it?” He suddenly felt like cringing at the sound of his own pidgin. His heavy speech just further emphasized his upbringing compared to hers. Someone classy like her shouldn’t be doing a job like that, right? “‘Cuz like, can only get worse, yeah? You get medicine fo’ put on or someting?” He couldn’t help jabbering on and on. When he starts feeling uncomfortable, that’s just what happens.
Thankfully, she continued the conversation. “Mhm. I saw yesterday some of th’ other workers wuz wearing two gloves.” She opened her purse and pulled out a pair. The hands were cut off. “Like this, see?” She pulled the glove on over her elbow like a sleeve, then pulled another, uncut one on so that they overlapped on her forearm.
“Ho, neat idea, yeah?” He nodded in approval.
She smiled in response. “The juice no can get inside, I think, yeah?”
“Yeah!” he emphasized.
She smiled a little more, obviously not embarrassed anymore by her arms.
And he felt proud of himself for getting them out of that uncomfortable start to the bus ride. Felt oddly self-satisfied that he got her to smile. Decided right then and there that he was pretty interested in her.
But he hasn’t really made a move, yet. The thought that she might turn him down is there. He’s been turned down enough times that rejection isn’t really what’s bugging him. It’s that she never seems to be in a good mood after their shift is done. That, and he doesn’t want it to be uncomfortable for the rest of the summer in case she does reject him. He would still have to catch the bus with her every night and morning. Too bad his dad doesn’t let him take the car to work. He gets it, though. His dad needs the car to go to work.
Well, he’ll figure it out later.
The bell screams, signaling the start of their lunch break.
He joins a group of Farrington guys he befriended over the course of the two weeks. There’re a lot of them working at the cannery, being that the high school is only a neighborhood away from the warehouse district.
“Eh, Naruto, you surf?” Omoi, a dark-skinned Filipino boy with sun-bleached ehu hair, asks.
“Yeah,” he answers, excitement bubbling. But only on the weekends with Shikamaru and Choji. He lives central, not at all close to the ocean, making beach trips longer than ideal. “Why, whatchu thinking?”
A guy they call “C,” Naruto has no idea what it’s short for, leans forward. “We go dawn patrol, Kewalo’s.”
Right after their shift, at the surf break at Kewalo Basin. Sounds solid. “Eh, shoots, we go! Tomorrow den?”
“Yeah,” Omoi affirms. “Prolly gon wash da pine stink off, yeah?”
C’s eyes widen at Omoi’s shoes, shaking his head. “Eh, brah, I no tink so, you dripping pines ova hea, bet yo feet kill, phew!”
“You faka, you no can talk, da flies stay all buzzin’ ‘round you!” Omoi shoots back.
Naruto frowns, considering that Hinata has the same job as Omoi, one of the few guys assigned to a woman’s job. Over the course of the job, Omoi’s shoes had soaked in pineapple juice that dripped from the cutting. This didn’t seem to be as big a problem for Hinata, who, for some girly reason, wore sandals despite the long hours of standing. “How come you no jus’ wea rubbah slippahs?”
Omoi shook his head with a serious expression. “No can fo’ do dat brah. I only get one good pair! Already wen ruin deez shoes, no sense ruin my slippahs too.”
“Dis broke faka ova hea, he no get money fo’ buy one noddah pair from Long’s das why!” C laughs.
Naruto shakes his head, laughing out loud. “No way you dat broke!”
Omoi turns to C, faux annoyance twisting his face. “Eh dis haole ri’ hea like get lickins?”
Instead of looking threatened, C just humorously shoots back, “You like go, we go!”
“Go den, shoots we go,” Omoi answers, squaring up.
“Yeah den go cuz, shoots,” C threatens back.
But neither of them stand.
Naruto rolls his eyes at their idiotic banter. Rarely is he the voice of reasoning, but he supposes it would be a different story if his school friends were here. “Eh we go Kewalo’s shoots.”
They turn back to him, huge grins on. “Yeah, we go!” Omoi says enthusiastically.
“Bring your board yeah?” C reminds him as the bell rings again.
“Yeah!”
He tells Hinata that he can’t go back with her the next day, and she just nods and smiles. Tells him to have fun.
And it’s a slight relief to not worry about the ride back home with her. He’s starting to feel like maybe she’s expecting him to ask her out since they spend so much time together. Well, really, he’s expecting that of himself, but he just can’t right now.
She’s just not any other girl at school in these current circumstances.
-
Hinata never meant to be one of those girls.
One of those girls, picked up on a stretcher and taken to the medical room to recuperate.
But on the first day of her period, she was exactly one of those girls.
She was feeling so tired. Legs like jelly. Sore up her thighs. Aches digging around her lower back. A weighty twisting in her core. A heavy day. It made her feel lightheaded.
The pineapples, one after another, going by, making her feel a little dizzy, like maybe she needed to close her eyes.
Shutting her eyes for a second didn’t help.
A breath, two breaths, intentional breaths.
She felt like maybe she was going to make herself start hyperventilating, the opposite of what she wanted. She wanted to breathe normally.
Focus on the pineapple.
It felt too heavy in her hand.
Her focus sliding off the pineapple, to the sticky yellow glint of the knife. Back to the pineapple.
She looked up, dazed, her eyes taking too long to adjust to a point on the far wall.
“Hinata, you alright?” Tenten asked.
She tried to refocus on the girl on the opposite side of her. She nodded, blinking, trying to concentrate on their job.
“You don’t look alright.” Her voice was too loud, like everything else going on.
Too loud, pounding.
She closed her eyes, heat searing her temples.
-
“-nata? Hinata?”
She slowly gains consciousness, to find Naruto looking down at her.
“You okay? You wen faint dey said.”
“Oh,” she manages to utter, trying to get her bearings as the room and bed take shape in her mind, blinking away the dazed vestiges of sleep. “W-what time is it?”
“Our shift only pau now.”
“Oh.”
“You feeling okay?”
She slowly sits up, nodding. “Yeah.” She must not have been out for that long. She really thought she would make it to the end of the night. “Were you waiting for me?” she asks, suddenly panicked at the realization that he is here with her.
“Ah, nah, nah. I come in jus’ now.” He gestures at the door. “You weren’ out dere, so I jus’ wen ask somebahdy. Dey said you wuz in hea.”
“Oh.” That’s good that he wasn’t waiting for her to wake up, but, still, she never expected him to do something like this. “You didn’t have to.”
He shrugs. “No problem. Ready fo’ go? Can walk or..?”
She nods, scooching off the bed-like table.
And he walks with her to check-out with one of the heads, and then back to the bus stop. Waits with her there. And when it’s obvious that he’s going back with her despite the longboard he’s been holding this whole time, she haltingly brings it up. “You not...going surfing?”
He shakes his head carelessly. “Nah, I go tomorrow.”
She ducks her head, biting her lips. “I’m sorry.”
“Nah, nah, waves not hitting today, so.” He shrugs, looking past her for the bus.
Obviously an outright lie, but she accepts it over drawing out such an uncomfortable situation.
“You no feel good today?” He sounds honestly concerned.
“Um, I felt fine earlier.” Well, in truth, she felt okay. The normal period cramps. As okay as a heavy day can be.
“You not sick?”
She shakes her head. She wants to sit down. The bench has the older workers sitting down, so she never gets to sit until the bus comes. She shifts her weight from foot to foot, trying to relieve the weight from her hips and pelvis.
It’s such a relief when the bus comes. She ignores the bus driver’s daily grimace and makes for the back row as quickly as she can.
He watches her sit down, audibly sigh, and her whole body kind of just melts into the stiff chair. It’s obvious that out of all the days so far, she’s the most tired today.
Or has she been like this? He just didn’t know because he’s been avoiding her in the mornings?
Ten minutes into the long ride, he’s thinking that it’s a good thing he’s going home with her today because…he thinks she’s falling asleep. Her head keeps jerking in his peripheral vision, so he decides to stop being considerate and turn to look straight at her.
Her eyes are drooping heavily, she’s blinking really hard...she is falling asleep. Or, trying really hard not to.
“Hinata.”
“Huh?” Her eyes fly wide open, obviously forcing herself.
“Sleep, I go wake you up later.”
Her cheeks redden. “Oh, no, I’m fine.”
She doesn’t trust him, or…what? She’s embarrassed?
“You sure?”
She nods. “Yeah.” Her voice sounds too breathy to be fine, but if she says so...
It’s no surprise to him when her body starts slumping over, her head weighing the rest of her body down and toward the seats in front of them.
She’d be even more embarrassed about this position, right? So he reaches over to grab both her shoulders and kind of push her back upright.
Well, that’s what he meant to do.
Her eyes open as if spooked, and she straightens out of his hands. “Sorry!” she gasps. Expression all pinched, she looks like she feels really ashamed.
About what, though? If anything, he feels bad about how tired she is. “No,” he reassures. “No worry ‘bout me.” He’s trying his best to sound comforting… “Should get some rest, s’okay, I go wake you up befo’ my stop. Trus’ me.”
Her eyes squint, like she’s straining to focus. “...maybe. But I don’t like sleep..on da bus.”
He can’t help a laugh. “Ha, you look like you goin’ give yourself da kine whiplash back-an-for'-li’ dat, jus’ relax.”
“Mm…” A noncommittal answer, but one that doesn’t argue, so he can’t push the issue any further, either.
They settle back into the sound of the engine roaring along the highway, and pretty soon, her body’s starting to lean over again. He refrains from helping her, even though she looks uncomfortable.
She looks like she’s going to wake up with a sore neck. Her blood’s probably rushing to her head in that position. That’s not good, right? She literally just had a fainting spell not too long ago. So having her head lean against the rattling window pane wouldn’t be ideal, either. Since they’re sitting at the back, she might really conk her head hard if the bus has to stop.
With more care than the first time, he tries to guide her to lean against him.
For a moment, her eyelids and brows wiggle and bunch up, but swiftly return to their placid state.
It’s nice.
She’s nice.
He should ask her out. She doesn’t ignore him or outwardly show any disinterest, so…sometime he’ll do it. Just of course not today.
When he sees that he’s getting close to his stop, he calls her name, “Hinata. Hinata.”
“Mm.” She sits up and blinks, a hand hurriedly wiping her mouth.
Drool? He’s trying not to smile like a goofball, but kind of failing at hiding his selfish amusement. “I gotta get off now. You gon’ be okay?”
She nods, making eye contact for a second, only for her gaze to immediately skitter away to some unknown point on the bus floor.
“‘Kay, you take care, yeah?”
She nods again, still refusing to look at him, her hands busy everywhere touching her face and then her hair, fixing who-knows-what. She murmurs something.
“Huh?” he asks in a knee-jerk reaction before his brain pieces together that it sounded like an apology. “Oh, no need say dat.” He reaches over to pull the cord for his stop and grins. “Maybe I see you tomorrow, yeah?”
She nods, glances up at him for a second, and looks down once more.
He gets off the bus feeling pretty good about himself in the bright morning sun.
Only to realize--
Maybe he should have made sure she got home all the way.
Maybe he should have gotten off at her stop with her.
The library isn’t really that far a walk back to his own home.
…
She’s probably fine, right?
She wouldn’t have fallen asleep again, right?
Why did she faint anyway?
Should he have asked more?
His consciousness won’t let up. He could call, but if he calls, then he really probably will need to ask her out eventually. Well, he plans on it anyway, but if he calls, then that would really solidify things, and she’d expect something from him by, like, tomorrow.
Well, that’s all hypothetical. If he can even find her name in the phonebook...
...He finds it.
“Who you calling?” his mom asks, teasing him, as she pops up beside him in the kitchen. “Noddah one of your girlfriends?”
“...No…”
“Ohh, you asking a girl out? Why you no jus’ call her? She goin’ turn you down, ah!” she laughs, all by herself. “Who like go out wit you, ah?” Her laughter rings throughout the house.
He wishes he could yell at her to shut up, but then she’d go get the slipper and give him some serious dirty lickins.
So he keeps his eyes on the phonebook, and with his mom’s derision motivating him, picks up the receiver and hooks his finger into the first digit, gaining self-confidence with each pull, release, and spin of the dial.
If it’s the parents, then that’s fine. He’ll make a good impression. Maybe. He doesn’t need to talk to Hinata, he just wants the family to know that she fainted. He gets the feeling Hinata’s not the type to talk about things like that to her family.
But then...maybe the cannery already called them about it.
The dial tone ends.
He takes a readying breath. “...Hello?”
“Hello?” It’s a young girl’s voice.
“Is this Hinata’s house?” he continues, desperately trying to imitate a school valedictorian or maybe a teacher...
“...Yeah...Who’s this?”
“This is Naruto...I, uh, work same place, at da cannery.”
“...She’s not home, yet. And she’s not supposed to talk to boys.”
What? I tought she in dat social club? “Well, I no need talk to her. I jus’ like you guys know that, uh, she wen fainted at work, yeah.”
“...”
“...So, she should be home soon, I get off da bus a little befo’ her, I jus’ like try check she gets home okay..yeah..”
“...Okay.” In the background, he hears a faint voice talking before the girl on the line continues, “It’s a boy.”
“Huh?”
“He’s saying Hinata fainted at work. And that she should be home soon.”
He realizes she’s talking to someone else, so he awkwardly waits.
“Okay, ...uhhmm...” Her voice trails out for a solid second.
She talking to me now? “Oh, yeah?”
“Thank you, I’m gonna go meet her. Bye.”
“Oh-” The line cuts, his own goodbye stuck in his throat. He places the receiver back down, uncertain what to make of that whole exchange, wondering what about it left him dissatisfied. He did what he meant to do, after all... That must have been a younger sister.
“Hinata? You neva talk about her befo’,” his mom observes as she gathers her things for work. “You met her at da cannery?”
“No, she one year youngah dan me at sku’.”
“She wen faint? Why you neva walk her back home, ah?!”
“I no tink dat until aftah!” he defends. “Das why I wen call!”
“You no can get one decent girlfriend acting li’dat, ah!, dis stupid son of mine, ahh, ah, if you jus’ focus on sku’ mo’, get bettah grades, get mo’ smartah, ah,” his mom tuts and laments off on a tangent, and he ignores her.
He sees her off for work at the door, his mind turning back to whether he needs to ask Hinata out tomorrow. Especially since, “She’s not supposed to talk to boys.” What’s that about?
-
He never does find out. There’s no way he could ask such a question, and the summer passes too fast for him to face her plainly. He’s not sure why, but whenever he imagines her turning him down, the idea hurts a lot more than it should.
Logically, he knows itʻs just a yes or no answer. He’s been turned down here and there. He’s gone on numerous dates, danced with girls, and played silly social games with the opposite sex at parties. And concerning Hinata, she’s a year younger than him, so the chances of seeing her on campus are a lot smaller, so he wouldn’t have to face her that often if she does turn him down.
So why can’t he just ask her out?
-
She held out hope.
She thanked him profusely the day after, and he was extremely nice to her. He went back on the bus with her for that entire following week's shifts, making sure she was okay, before he determined that she was safe enough without him.
He went back to surfing in the mornings.
The day of their last shift, she held out so much hope.
He didn’t ask her out.
So she tries to shrug it off.
The disappointment.
The deep, far too deep, disappointment. She’s probably just not his type.
But to her surprise, that’s not the last time she sees him before school starts.
Their social clubs host a joint car wash to raise money.
She pushes down her shy feelings, knowing that if he has absolutely no interest in dating her, then there’s really no reason for her to act strangely around him. It would simply be rude of her to ignore him after spending all summer the way they did on the bus together. Gathering her courage, she walks up to him and calls out his name, “Naruto! Hi!” She smiles, hoping to appear as cheerful as possible.
“Oh!” He turns from his friends, already knowing whose voice it was, but still caught off-guard.
She’s dressed really casually--in shorts, a shirt, and rubber slippers, obviously appropriate for the day’s work, but still strange to see on her. He somehow thought maybe she didn’t own casual clothes like that.
“Hinata! Hi!” he responds, a little belatedly. He feels really stupid, somehow his grin feels unnatural, too tense. He watches her smile again and then turn back to her friends.
Something gnaws at his consciousness, like he missed out on saying or doing something he should have done in that moment. Ask her how she’s been in the past week? He just saw her not too long ago, so that would be dumb to ask.
“Whose dat again?”
He blinks out of his stare and turns to Sasuke.
“Hinata. Hinata Hyuuga. We bo’ worked night shift at da cannery.”
“You ask her out?”
“...No, nah yet…” he admits, nerves crawling around, making him feel guilty out of nowhere.
Sasuke raises a brow. “You like her?”
He shrugs his shoulders, frowning, trying to play off the intrusive question as nothing to him. “...Yeah…”
Now both of Sasuke’s brows are raised.
Naruto shifts uncomfortably. Every single second here is making him realize he should’ve gotten the deed done and over with already. Now she’s around all of his fellow club members. Any one of the other guys could ask her out by the end of the day.
She could take a liking to one of his friends. He realizes that his chances were so much higher when it was just the two of them.
-
She and Sakura walk around helping to pass out sponges and buckets. They introduce themselves to several boys, all of them very friendly.
Hinata herself feels very friendly. After her act of courage in facing Naruto, after getting that difficult exchange done with, she feels pretty bold.
She’s in this social club to have fun! She won’t let a little one-sided crush damper her day!
True that none of the other guys are as naturally magnetic as Naruto, but she knows that first impressions aren’t everything. All of these guys in his social club seem perfectly nice, helping to fill and carry the heavy buckets of water for the girls.
She sets to work on a car, excitedly engaging in discussions about the new school year with whoever works beside her. And with an observant eye, she manages to not work on the same side of a car as Naruto.
Two hours pass in laughter and good spirits, even with how the noonday sun beats down, pouring heat over the asphalt lot.
The once cool water comes out hot from the hose, and the buckets are just puddles of liquid sun she has to dunk her hand and sponge into as infrequently as possible.
The constant bending is nothing to her, though. After a whole summer of cannery work on her feet, she’s pretty sure she’s more fit than last year. She’s not even sweating as much as she thought she would.
Until she gets up too fast.
Her head sears hot, her vision darkening into pinpoints of bright light.
She tries to squint, to see through the sudden tunnels of black, but her eyes burn, and just as quickly, she feels off-balance, her head too heavy to hold up.
She crouches down, face in her hands, confused and pained.
“Hinata, you okay?” Sakura, most likely.
“I can’t see.”
“What do you mean?”
“I can’t see,” she repeats, trying to stay calm despite the painful splotches of color beneath her eye lids. “It hurts.” And she feels like she’s going to pass out, but she refuses to embarrass herself like that in front of everyone.
“Oh my gosh… Water. Water!” Sakura says louder.
“Wut’s wrong!” Another voice.
Oh no, not that voice.
“She’s dehydrated I think!”
“Oh shit,” he curses.
Hinata sits as still as possible, focusing on not tipping over into a ball and fainting right there on the dirty, poky ground. Not again.
“Here, water,” Sakura says, her voice stressed and concerned. “Can you raise your head?”
“Mm.” She slowly lifts her face and opens her mouth.
A plastic water bottle is placed at her lips, lukewarm liquid flowing onto her tongue. She drinks it dutifully, the pain in her head clearing rather quickly.
She eventually pushes the water bottle away and wipes her lips on the back of her hand. “Thank you,” she breathes out, relieved that her head’s weight is starting to feel normal again. But she keeps her eyes closed, too afraid to strain her vision. Or to see if she attracted everyone’s attention...or to find out if Naruto is still there.
“Do you feel better?” Sakura asks, still sounding way more worried than necessary.
“Yeah, thank you, Sakura.”
“Can you see?”
“I don’t know…” She doesn’t want to test herself too soon, but she cracks her eyes open, if only to assure Sakura that she’s okay.
The world is a bright fog through the slight cracks of her eyelids.
But it doesn’t hurt.
“I’ll be able to see fine in a minute, I think.”
Sakura sighs in relief. “Good.”
A random boy whose deep voice she doesn’t recognize asks what happened.
“She dehydrated,” Naruto answers.
Hinata doesn’t know whether to feel flattered or dreadfully embarrassed that he’s still there.
“Oh, das not good,” the other boy assesses.
“Yeah…” Naruto agrees.
“I’ll be fine in a moment!” Hinata pipes up, her personality automatically choosing to feel embarrassed.
The unknown guy makes a sound of uncertainty.
“Yeah, Hinata,” Sakura adds on. “I don’t think you should help out right away. You could’ve gotten heatstroke.”
“Heatstroke?” she asks.
“Dere’s no shade ‘round hea,” Naruto comments.
Hinata slowly forces her eyes to adjust, hoping to prove them all wrong. “I can see. I’m fine.” She starts to get up carefully.
More sounds of uncertainty resound behind her, and she hates how all three of them are treating her like she could collapse at any moment.
Like, even if she could collapse at any moment, even if that is what just happened, she doesn’t want this to be how everyone sees her from now on. Like some weak, stupid girl who forgets to drink water on a hot day.
Even if that is what she is.
“I can take her home.” Naruto’s invitation has her finally turning around to face her audience.
To her relief, it’s just the three of them, Sakura, Naruto, and a pretty, black-haired Japanese boy she’s seen him hanging out with.
“Yeah, take her home,” the pretty boy says. He claps Naruto’s arm.
Naruto gives some kind of smile that’s really cute, and Hinata has to force herself to try not to examine anything he’s said or done in the past five minutes.
He made her over-examine his behavior all summer, only for it to amount to nothing. He’s just really nice and treats her like a good friend. That’s all.
Sakura helps her walk to his car.
And all too soon, she’s sitting right next to him.
Naruto starts up the engine, blasting the AC so that cool air roars onto their heated faces.
“I’m sorry.” She gulps down a knot of discomfort in her throat, already regretting so much.
“Nah, no need say dat.” His stomach feels sore, his legs antsy. He was trying to nonchalantly work on the cars by her, but somehow, he wonders if she was avoiding him.
She’s too nice to do that, right? She never tried to avoid him at their summer job…
He needs to gauge her interest in him. So after he backs out of the parking space and safely makes it into traffic, he ventures conversation. “How you feeling now?”
She nods. “I feel better. I could’ve stayed, I think…”
“...Oh…” He’s already on Moanalua Home Road, and turning around now would be humbug. “Are you sure?”
“Mm…” She’s not sure. She just doesn’t want to seem so frail.
“‘S'okay, ya know? Already get plenny help, das why, no need chance 'm.”
“Mm...okay… Thank you...I’m sorry…”
With conversation finding its natural, quick end, he finds himself wracking his brain for ideas. He has about five more minutes with her before they get to her house. I should ask her out...I should just ask her...just ask her…
“Oh, I like this song.”
“Hm?” He turns the radio up, glad to focus on something outside of his brain. “Oh, yeah!”
It’s a newish one by Cecilio and Kapono, one he imagines will be really popular at social club dances, the slow tempo is perfect.
Not knowing what else to do to fill the silence, she starts singing softly. She can tell he’s glancing at her, but she keeps her eyes fixed determinedly forward, her gut turning to jelly as the romantic meaning registers in her mind. “...Our small moment that we shared, Is only yours and mine, No one else is really going to know, That I care about you…”
His cheeks flush. This song really is perfect for a social club dance. He never paid that much attention to the lyrics, but with her soft voice singing them, the words are suddenly resonating, hitting a little too close-to-home.
“And all the questions that I asked myself about you…”
He's made up his mind. He’s going to ask her out.
“Won’t you come and be with me…”
Right after this song.
“That if you come and stay you’re going to see, That I care about you.”
He relaxes into his seat, his grasp, unintentionally tight on the wheel, relaxes, too. If she's comfortable enough to sing in his presence, then there's nothing stopping him from feeling comfortable, too. It's actually really nice to know that she's willing to do something like this with him. He's stressed out for nothing. He's hesitating for nothing. And maybe, if things work out, this feeling...this moment...would be normal...
She peeks at him, and...he’s smiling. He’s not teasing, laughing, or grimacing at her. So she continues singing, relieved.
When the song finishes, he lowers the volume, reassured, readier than ever. “Hinata…”
She blinks, realizing they’re really close to her house, and Naruto doesn't know where to go. “Oh! You turn left at the intersection after this light.”
Jarred to the present, he suddenly notices his heart racing, despite how calm he felt not even ten seconds ago. The words get lost on his tongue, and he simply follows her instructions, the opportune moment evaporating into nothing.
“It’s that house,” she points, and he slows, pulling over against the curb.
She turns to him to give her appreciation properly.
But he’s facing directly toward her, his usually cheerful expression one of uncharacteristic focus.
Her heart leaps into her throat.
“Hinata," he repeats. "You like, go movies with me, sometime?”
She nods, speechless, because yes, yes, yes.
And he visibly relaxes. He can breathe again. Her agreement was so much easier than he thought it would be. “I go check da listings den, okay? And I’ll call you?”
She nods, eyes growing wide as everything starts to sink in.
He nods, too, an embarrassed smile working at his mouth. “Talk to you later den, yeah?”
“Yeah,” she breathes, a smile forming in reaction. In a fog of happiness, she steps out of the car, nearly forgetting. “Oh, thank you for taking me home!”
He nods, thinking that this won't be the last time he makes sure she gets home. He notices how her happy smile lights up her eyes like earlier at the carwash, but now, it’s directed at him, him only. And once she disappears into her house, more than anything, he feels incredible relief.
And excitement.
He gets the feeling…
She gets the feeling…
This is going to last.
#naruhina2020#naruhina fanfic#naruhina fanfiction#1970s au#dialect fic#code switching#race changes au#high school au#thank you for reading!
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