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one-shot-plus-size · 4 years ago

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From Sons of Anarchy to Mayans MC

Jax's sister must hide from the revenge of SAMCRO enemies, goes to Mayans MC Santo Padre. And he catches the eye of a la presidente.

Chapters 4/20

Sorry for any mistakes, English is not my first language. They will accept any attention and criticism :)

Part 3

Charming

Pov Olivia

I went into my house, pulled out the phone and dialed Marcus' number.

- Tak mi reina ?

- Can we leave today ? - I walked into the bedroom.

- I can organize the guys within an hour. But are you sure ? - he took a breath.

- Yeah, Marcus, Jackson already chose. I'll be ready in an hour.

- Are you taking the motorcycle ?

- No, I'm just taking my clothes, nothing more.

- We'll be there in an hour.

- Thanks. I hung up.

I threw a sports bag on the bed, put the most necessary clothes into it. I packed my drawing equipment into the backpack, she had to keep working to earn money. I changed into a short sleeve shirt and dark denim pants. I put my harley davidson shoes on my feet. If Jackson wants to get rid of me, I will make it easier for him. I put all the things that tied me to SAMCRO on a bench in the living room. It was quite a lot, I fell down on the couch and stared at the gun. Jackson gave it to me when I became an adult. She wasn't wearing any Sons' emblems, nothing connected her to the club. I threw it in my bag and it might come in handy.

Pov Chibs

- I'll go to her, talk to her. You cannot part in an argument, then I will call you.

- Take care - he breathed - she will be angry.

- I know how to please her - I smiled slightly

- I noticed - he laughed.

I smiled slightly, ran down the stairs and went to my motorcycle. I fastened my helmet, sat on it and fired. I breathed deeply and all the way to her house I tried to prepare for the conversation. I had to keep calm so she would calm down too. I parked my motorcycle in her driveway, took off my helmet and hung it on the mirror. I fixed my hair and walked up to the front door. I knocked several times.

- Lass please - I moaned - I know you are mad at your brother but at least talk to me.

There was silence on the other side, I grabbed the handle. The door gave way under my pressure, I wrinkled my eyebrows. I pulled the gun from behind the belt, Olivia always closed the door, even when she was at home.

- Lass - I went inside.

I lit the light in the living room, looked around the room. My eyes stopped on the coffee table.

- I fucking growled - Olivia.

I checked the whole house, she was nowhere. I fell down on the couch in front of the table, looked through the things, grabbed the picture. She and Jackson were laughing while pushing, I remembered well when the picture was taken. It was one of the carefree days at the club, where we could afford to forget for a while. Olivia left here all her belongings, SAMCRO clothes, photos and even her phone. I even saw the chain I gave her for her birthday, the one she never took off. I pulled out the phone and dialed Jax's number. - It's good that you're alive, but something went fast - he laughed.

- I think I have some bad news from Jackie boy - I lost my hair.

- She kicked you out on your fucking face?

- Jackie, she left already.

- What ? - He was surprised.

- She left already, she left all her things at home. She left everything that connected her to the club and her family here. Club clothes, photos and even the chain I gave her for her birthday. Everything - I held back the tears.

- Maybe it's better - he pulled her nose - she was mad at me, if she cools down a bit I will call her. Somehow he will contact her, but now it's good. Go home.

- Sure - I hung up.

I looked at the pile of her things again.

- And I haven't been able to tell you - I've breathed - but I'll tell you when you get home.

I put the chain in my wicked pocket and left her house slamming the door behind.

On the way to Santo Padre

Pov Olivia

- You won't mind if I smoke ? - I looked at the driver.

- No - he twisted his head - smoke all you want.

I took out a pack of cigarettes from my jeans pocket. I played with the pack for a while, but finally I slipped the cigarette between my lips and lit it. I pulled myself tight and blew the smoke out the window. I leaned my elbow against the door and looked at passing cars on the highway. Motorcycles were roaring steadily, those behind and in front of us. Marcus was driving all motorcycles, El Presidente or El Padrino who preferred to call him. Mayans Northern Cali, I watched the surroundings. At this speed we should be there in about 9 hours, it will be a long 9 hours. After four we stopped the petrol station, the motorcycles parked in one row and the bus next to them. I got out of the car and dragged myself hard. I looked around and went to the station. I felt the guys' eyesight on me, but frankly, I didn't give a shit. Let them think what they want about me, let them feel sorry for me that my own family threw me out. I used the bathroom, then I bought chips, cigarettes and something to drink. On the way back to the car, Alvarez stopped me.

- Chica everything ok ? - he put his hand on my shoulder.

- What do you think ? - i looked at him - my own brother fired me from my family.

- Olivia - he breathed.

- He doesn't want to talk about it, ok ?

- Ok, he nodded his head.

I got in the car, started another cigarette and stared at one point. It was four o'clock in the morning so few people were hanging around the station and it was late on the highway. As soon as we entered Santo Padre, I got tense.

- Relax - Nathaniel smiled slightly - the guys are fine, you don't have to worry.

- Sure - I snorted under my nose.

- If something is not right, you can call me or Alvarez.

- Sure - I looked at him - thanks, I was able to manage between the Sons so I think I can manage here too.

- They are different - he drove into the driveway.

- Sure - I looked at him.

- You'll see for yourself that there are others, and then you won't want to go home - he smiled widely.

- I don't have a home anymore - I twisted my head - as if you hadn't noticed, I was fired from the last one.

- You have to believe that Jackson had a good reason.

- Sure, I nodded.

The big iron gate opened and we entered the club. On my right was a row of motorcycles, set up under a shelter that protected them from the sun. And yet they were shining anyway, armed with a lot of chrome. Nathaniel parked the car on the left side of the square, the man who opened it for us was wearing a club vest. Six feet tall with long dark hair tied in a ponytail.

- I hate this town already - I purr.

- What do you mean ? - Nathaniel looked at me.

- The heat will kill me - I breathed.

- You will get used to it - he smiled and got out of the car.

- Surely, I put my hair in a ponytail.

Pov Bishop

- Our star came - Taza improved his vest and left the club.

- Sure - I took a breath.

I left the club as the last one, everyone was standing on the porch and staring at one point.

- Move your assholes - I was growling.

The boys spread out, I went out on the front of those rams. And that was when I understood why they stopped. I was staring at a girl, or rather a woman who was fixing her shirt. Her long blue hair was pinned up in a ponytail, I moved my gaze across her body. Her full shape was emphasized by a blouse and dark denim pants, she had harley davidson shoes on her feet.

- I fucking murmured under my nose.

- That's right, old man - Taza patted me on the shoulder - we all drowned.

- Nobody said she was hot - Tranq smiled wide.

- If anyone gets hit on the head by it, I will personally skin it. Remember that it is J.T.'s daughter Teller and that way she is untouchable, you heard Angel ?

- I am not deaf - he looked at me and smiled.

- Reyes, do not test my patience.

- Don't you think that standing on the porch and arguing is not a good first impression - Taza smiled - Bishop do the honors.

- Sure - I fixed the vest.

I greeted Alvarez.

- Come let me introduce you to Hell.

- Hell ? - I was surprised.

- You'll see - he nodded his head.

- This is an Obispo Losa called Bishop. This is el presidente of this branch, Bishop is Olivia Teller, but commonly called hell.

- Pleased to meet you - I reached out my hand in her direction.

She hugged her gently, but quickly moved back.

- I think she wants to know why the hell - Taza spoke to me.

- This is Che Romero, vicepresidente.

- Taza, just Taza - he smiled wide - so why hell?

- There's nothing to talk about," she waved her hand.

- Oh well - Marcus smiled wide - no representative of any of the Sons Charters was able to beat her in the ring. And when she got pissed off, men three times bigger than her blew up.

- Jizas, el padrino please shut up already - she hit him slightly in the shoulder - you make me a monster that I am not.

- I will gladly face her in the ring - I heard the voice of older Reyes.

- Are you crazy? - I yawned at him.

- All right - she said - we drove all night, if you give me a rest and at least regenerate a little, I will gladly face him in the ring.

- If it is as padrino says, it is interesting how Angel will deal with failure - a smaller and thinner man smiled from ear to ear - I am Johnny Cruz but they call me Coco.

- Maybe I'll introduce you to the rest of this bunch - I smiled a little - Taza and Coco you've already met, this is Tranq El Pacificador, this is Creepera, he is our Road Captain. This is Riz El Secretario of our club. There stands Gilli and the Reyes brothers. Angel is the one who never knows how to hold his tongue and his younger brother prospect Ez. Don't stress out with time you'll get their names in your head.

- Sure - she looked at each of them.

- Prospect - I looked at him - take her things and show her the apartment.

Ez nodded his head, took her bag from the car.

- Are you sure you're a woman ? - He raised his eyebrows high.

- Yeah, that's all my stuff not related to Sons-- she snorted under my nose.

- Come on - Ez nodded his head at her.

Olivia smiled slightly and followed him with her backpack on her shoulder. I turned around behind her and looked at her tattooed hand, the tattoos were hiding under the sleeve of her blouse. And some of the tattoos were also sticking out from under the shirt on her neck. I was wondering where else I could find the paintings on her body. Something feels that we can expect everything from this woman. When she disappeared behind the door, I took a look at Angel. I supported myself with my fists on the sides.

- Really Angel? - I growled.

- What? - He was surprised.

- That's a woman's tattoo. I lit a cigarette.

- So ? - he frowned his eyebrows - if she's as good as Padrino says she'll manage.

- Don't worry Bish, she'll be fine. - Marcus patted me on the shoulder.

- He works with idiots - I was purring under my nose.

Part 5

#jax teller #chibs imagine #jackie boy #jackson teller #filip telford #chucky #olivia teller #soa #sons of anarchy #smacro #mayans mc #mayans #bishop losa #angel reyes

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overthinkinggotmedrinking · 5 years ago

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Paper Rings

Pairing: Reader X Dean Winchester

Genre: Fluff

Summary: Inspired by the song 'Paper Rings' by Taylor Swift. An ordinary day becomes unforgettable for the reader, but is it all just a dream? (I suck at summaries🙈)

Word Count: 1994

A/N: This is the first piece of fanfiction I’ve started writing and actually finished. YAY! Can’t believe I actually did it. Anyways I hope you enjoy! Any feedback is appreciated.

____________________

"You know what we should do right now?" I say as I lift my head up from Dean's lap and look away from the TV to look up at him.

His eyes narrow as he looks at me, as if he knows I'm going to suggest something ridiculous. I don't blame him really, my smile is probably what is tipping him off. "What?" He asks carefully.

I sit up excitedly. "Bake chocolate chip cookies!", I say as I take his hand to pull him towards the kitchen.

I hear him chuckle. "You do realise it's 1 o'clock at night, right?"

"And... Your point is?" I look at him with a playful smirk and give him a peck on the lips.

He sighs, smiling, as he shakes his head. "I don't even know why I try." He says, putting his arms around me.

"I don't either" I say as I put my arms around his neck.

I look into his eyes and all I can see is love and adoration. I feel the blush rise, and my heart skips a beat. We've been together for 2 years, and he still manages to make me feel this way.

I'm not the most secure person in the world. Always fearing that one day, he'll get bored and leave. He's reassured me a million times that that could never happen. But there are still days when that fear comes back, nights I spend thinking about how he is still with me.

I clear my throat as I say, "Okay! So you get the ingredients, while I'm going to get the utensils and put some music on."

"Yes, Ma'am!" He says pecking the tip of my nose.

____________________

"So, first we need to mix the flour, cocoa powder, baking soda and salt in a bowl. You measure out the flour and I'll get the cocoa powder." I say. I measure out the required amount, and am about to put it in the bowl when another idea pops into my head.

"You know.. I've always wanted to know what you would look like with brown hair."

He pours the flour in the bowl as he says, "Really? Why? don't like my blonde hair any-" Before he can finish the sentence, I reach up and dump the cocoa powder on his head.

"Nope. Brown doesn't suit you." I look at him with a playful look. But it soon changes when I see that he's absolutely still, staring at the kitchen counter, no emotion visible on his face.

Shit. He's mad. I think as I swallow a lump growing in my throat. He's probably tired and wants to sleep. But you just had to drag him to bake cookies at 1 o'clock at night. And then you dump cocoa powder on his head. Of course he's mad. I mentally scold myself.

"I-I'm sorry." I say as I reach up to try to clean up the mess I've made. "I-I shouldn't have done th-that. I'll clean up the kitchen. I-" I suddenly see his hands move, but I'm not able to react fast enough. The next thing I know I'm covered in flour.

I look up in shock to see Dean looking at me with a big smile. "Ooh, you're so dead Winchester." I pick up the bowl with the remaining flour and run after him, with a smile matching his.

"Catch me if you can sweetheart." He says with a teasing voice. We're running around the kitchen island when he picks up the cocoa powder, and instead of running away comes towards me with a fistful. I throw the flour in the bowl towards him and turn around to try and run. But I'm too slow, and I let out a little yelp as he catches me. He puts one arm around my waist and uses the other to cover my face in the cocoa.

We're laughing as I turn around in his arms, and stand on my tip toes to kiss him. And as always, I get completely lost in him. I have to remind myself to pull away so I could breathe. As I'm looking up at him, my ears pick up the song playing on the speakers.

The moon is high, like your friends were the night that we first met.

"Oh! I love this song." I pull away as I start to dance a bit and sing along to the song.

Dean just stands there looking at me with the sweetest smile on his face. I take his hands in an attempt to get him to dance with me. "Come on!"

Kiss me once 'cause you know I had a long night

(Oh!) Kiss me twice 'cause it's gonna be alright

Three times 'cause I've waited my whole life

(One, two, one two three four!)

I look up at him as I sing the chorus.

I like shiny things, but I'd marry you with paper rings

Uh huh, that's right

Darling, you're the one I want

And even though I'm just singing along to the song, I mean every single word. When it comes to Dean, all that matters is that we're together. Everything else just fades into the background.

I hate accidents except when we went from friends to this

Uh huh, that's right

Darling, you're the one I want,

In paper rings, in picture frames, in dirty dreams

I wiggle my eyebrows for the last part, while looking at him with a suggestive look.

Oh, you're the one I want

Dean pulls me close to him. He reaches behind me to lower the volume of the song while giving me a peck on the lips. "Marry Me." I pull back and look at him with wide eyes. I must have misheard him. "Wh-What?"

He gets down on one knee, right there on the kitchen floor. I feel my eyes water up. He pulls out a rolled up tissue paper, tied into a ring. I let out a giggle.

"Y/n, I love you. More than I thought anyone could ever love anyone, and I keep falling deeper in love with every passing second. I know that head of your's has probably made up a number of reasons to make you believe that what I'm saying isn't true and that I'm gonna get bored and leave you someday. But you need to know that that's not true. There's no way that I could ever even think of leaving you. So, I want to spend the rest of my life trying to prove to you that I love you and that you're more than anything I could ever ask for. So, Y/n Y/l/n, will you marry me?"

The tears finally spill and my throat closes up. I open my mouth to say something, but instead of words a sob makes its way out. So I just resort to nodding my head. Dean grabs my hand and puts the paper ring on. As soon as he gets up, I jump into his arms. I try to say 'I love you', as I tighten my arms around him, but it's comes out slightly choked.

"I love you too sweetheart, so much." His voice sounds teary too, so I pull back and look up at him.

"Is the Dean Winchester crying?"

"Of course I am. You just make me that happy, sweetheart." He gives me another peck, which turns into a kiss, and I can't help but think that it all seems too good to be true. I felt as if I would wake up any given second and realise that this was all just a figment of my imagination. So I kiss him harder, trying to hold on to this moment a bit longer.

____________________

My eyes open to sunlight streaming in from the window. I turn around to look across the bed to find the other side empty, except for a note on Dean's pillow. I pick it up and read what's written on it.

Will be back soon.

Love you, sweetheart

Dean

As I put the note back on the bed, I look down at my empty left ring finger and my mind goes back to my dream. While the memory makes me happy, it's makes me a bit sad too. All my insecurities suddenly surface up. _Would Dean ever actually want to spend his life with me? What if he doesn't? He probably doesn't. _I groan as I try to get my mind to shut up. I decide to get out of bed and get ready for the day.

As I enter the kitchen to grab some breakfast, a small smile creeps up on my face. But before my mind could wander into a hundred different directions, I hear the front door open.

"Hey. Good morning sweetheart." Dean says when he sees me.

"Good morning." I say and give him a peck on the lips. "Where did you go this early in the morning?"

"Well, I went to get something for you."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah." He reaches into the bag he was holding, which I hadn't noticed yet, and pulls out a small velvet box. I feel my eyes widen. So last night wasn't a dream? Then where's the paper ring? Maybe it came off while I was sleeping?

"I didn't tell you this last night, but I actually had already placed an order for a ring a couple of weeks ago. It was supposed to come in any day now, and then I had this whole thing planned out. We'd go some place quite for a picnic, spend the entire day doing things you love, and the day would end with me proposing. But last night, I just couldn't stop myself anymore. And with the song playing, I felt like it was the perfect opportunity. So I went ahead. Then I got a call from the store this morning, they told me I could collect the ring today. So," he paused and took a deep breath, "here it is."

He opened the box to reveal the most beautiful yet simple ring I could imagine. He looked up at me, probably hoping for some sort of response, just to find me staring at him. "Sweetheart? Are you okay?"

"Wait. You actually proposed to me last night?" I asked

He nodded looking slightly confused.

"And it wasn't all a dream?" The look on his face changes as he realises what I was thinking. He grins at me as he says, "No sweetheart. It all happened."

"And you don't regret asking me?" His expression changes yet again, the grin now replaced by a frown. "Of course not sweetheart, why would I?"

He cups my face, a slight smile on his face, "Don't you remember that speech I gave last night? I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you." When my expression is still unsure, he says, "Fine, I'm gonna say it." He leans forward and whispers in my ear, "I love you more than I love pie."

I let out a dramatic gasp as I widen my eyes. "No!" I whisper back playfully. "Really?"

"It's true. If I ever had to choose, I'd choose you. Just don't ever make me do that."

"I wouldn't dare." I say, all my worries forgotten, a big smile on my face.

He pulls the ring out of the box and askes for my hand. I put my hand forward and he places the ring on my finger.

Looking at the ring brings back the tears in my eyes. "I love you so much, Dean."

"I love you too sweetheart."

And as we stand there kissing each other, I feel all my insecurities fall away for now. I know they'll come back, but I also know that Dean will always be there to help me fight them, as I will be there to help him fight his. So, for once, I let myself believe that everything is going to be alright.

#dean winchester #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester one shot #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x reader fluff #dean winchester x you #dean #dean fluff #dean one shot #dean x reader #dean x reader fluff #dean x you #reader #reader fluff #spn #supernatural #one shot

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baekhypnotized · 5 years ago

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☆— [four]

summary: Baekhyun is just a man who doesn’t believe in romance as much as Byul, who is trying to give herself to him. But day by day, he will soon realize that her fleeting actions are breaking down his cold-hearted brick wall, no matter if it takes her a million years.

warning(s): -

word count: 4.1k+

author’s note: please let me know what you guys think about this chapter!! if you would want to be tagged for next update, do tell me!! enjoy reading :)

tag list: @iloveagain @xlxbaekhyuneex @catboyseni

<<[prev] || [next]]>>

As promised, I come to the cafe early to pass the keys to Senior Hana. I offer to help her with the opening procedure which includes setting up the coffee machine and displaying desserts, so it would be easier for my other colleagues to start their work in the morning. Ever since last night, Baekhyun hasn’t replied to my text, up until now. I’m just hoping he wouldn’t forget our discussion that we had agreed on last night because I don’t want to screw any of my plans for today.

I make myself a serving of chicken sandwich and a cup of latte for breakfast while waiting for him. At least I can kill time before he arrives. Having done preparing my breakfast, I bring the tray and sit at the table by the window, at his usual spot. I devour the sandwich while watching the customers enter the cafe once Senior Hana opens the cafe for business. They must be the type of people who needs caffeine in order to start their day.

My phone rings, signalling a new notification. I put down my sandwich and grab the device. Finally, it’s a text from Baekhyun.

[Baekhyun]: I just woke up from my sleep. Am I late?

[Byul]: No you’re not. It’s 10:10 in the morning and you still have time.

[Byul]: Don’t rush yourself because I can wait for you though.

[Baekhyun]: Nah, I hate making a woman wait for me so I’ll be there soon.

[Byul]: Drive safe, Baekhyun.

[Byul]: I don’t want to meet you only with one hand.

[Baekhyun]: Haha, funny. Anyway, good morning.

[Byul]: Good morning :)

A wide smile is plastered across my face after replying to his texts. His replies are always so cute to me. I lock my phone and put it on the table before continuing to munch my sandwich and enjoying my hot latte. I love how today’s morning is peaceful with only a few people walking pass by the cafe. I’m also quite grateful that the class is cancelled.

I bet Soomin is still sleeping soundly on her bed as I don’t know any of her plans today. She might go out for shopping with Sehun or prefer to stay at home and watch Netflix. The differences between us are pretty visible. Soomin was born into a wealthy family, whereas I came from a humble background. My parents were divorced and my dad just went missing after the separation. My mom, on the other hand, decided to remarry. Even though Soomin and I came from different backgrounds, I’m still grateful that we are friends, because more often than not, we complete each other with our opposite personalities.

Suddenly, I get startled by a few knocks on the window that I accidentally smudge the sandwich across my cheek, leaving a streak of mayonnaise. I turn my head towards the cause of my surprise and is met with Baekhyun, the man is giggling to himself watching my funny reaction. I roll my eyes and pick up tissue to wipe the smudge off as he enters the cafe and joins me.

"Sorry I’m late,” Baekhyun apologies and I shake my head, telling him it’s fine as my mouth is full with the sandwich. He realises that I’m busy eating my sandwich. It makes him chuckle.

I quickly swallow the food in my mouth and ask him, “Have you had your breakfast?”

"My breakfast is coffee,” he answers and I nod my head. Once I finish eating my sandwich, I grab my cup of latte and sip it slowly, feeling uncomfortable with the sight of Baekhyun watching me.

I pull away from the cup, “Why? Is there any problem?” I ask.

"I want a cup of latte that you make,” he says. I scoff after hearing his request.

"Really, Byun Baekhyun? All the latte tastes the same!”

"But not yours,” Baekhyun grins widely, showing his white teeth. I sigh in surrender and stand up from my seat. He passes the money to me and I roll my eyes at him, causing him to chuckle. Heading back to the counter, I key in his order into the system and prepare his latte only in a few minutes. I use my skills to draw an angry emoji at his latte as a sign of revenge. As I head back to the table, Baekhyun has his legs crossed while he’s busy scrolling his phone.

I place the cup in front of me before settling down in my seat. “Baekhyun, your latte is there,” I inform him but he does not move any inches. I release a scoff while taking out my laptop from my bag. I don’t even know why he seems surprised to see that I’m back from making his latte.

"Yeay!” He beams. “Thank you, Hanbyul,” Baekhyun continues as he displays a sly grin to me before lifting the cup from the saucer plate and sips it.

I ignore him this time, rolling my eyes to the back of my head. Without wasting any time, I turn on my laptop for the discussion, expecting Baekhyun might need some time before he is done with his breakfast.

"Do you bring your laptop? Or any notebook to jot down?” I ask him and he replies with a nod. He finishes up his latte and begins to prepare himself for our first discussion by taking out his laptop.

After we reassure ourselves ready to begin the discussion, both of us starts by reading the statement and question given by our lecturer. Baekhyun looks smart when he shares his opinions regarding this project. I suddenly remember the first time we met at the cafe, he wore a fancy suit to order a coffee and I assume he's someone who already got himself a job. Because right now, Baekhyun looks like a professional, like someone who is a master in this course. Maybe, there is a reason why he decided to further his study in the Master of Business Administration.

Throughout our discussion, Baekhyun contributes more in giving his ideas. At the same time, I list down every point that we need to add or do research before starting the assignment. His hand gestures when explaining the details manages to distract my focus from the topic which causing me to keep on staring at it. Baekhyun’s long and slender fingers, hands with a few visible veins popping out shows his masculine side. His attractive silver wristwatch positioned on his left wrist gives an extra point.

"Hey, missy. Are you lost in your dreams?” Baekhyun snaps his fingers right in front of my face that cause me to jump in surprise in my spot.

"I’m sorry. Where are we again?” I tighten my grip around the pen as I lift my head to look at his face. Baekhyun chuckles at the astonishment on my face.

"Let’s continue this, huh?” He suggests and I reply with a hum. Baekhyun shakes his head, probably remembering my face when I was spacing out while he was talking. I admit, my face looks funny. Biting my lower lip as I try to forget that embarrassing moment, I continue to listen to his explanations diligently.

After spending hours at the table, I realised it’s already passed at 12 o'clock noon. We were too busy up until we didn’t have the time to even hold the discussion for a rest. Baekhyun already looks exhausted when he rests his back by the backrest. I turn off my laptop and keep it back in my bag, gathering all the used cups and saucer plates to bring it back to the kitchen.

"Tired, Baekhyun?” I ask him.

"Kinda, my brain isn't working good now,” he expresses.

I snort softly. “Now, you can go home and rest. I need to get ready for my next shift at 2. Great job for today.” Getting off from my seat, I carry the cups and plates to the kitchen.

But before I get to move, Baekhyun calls. “Hanbyul.” I turn around to face him with a curious look.

"About our date,” He stops for a second, “can you empty your schedule for this Saturday? I’ve booked a restaurant for dinner. We can go anywhere you want before that, if you want to.” Baekhyun speaks. My heart drops for a second when he mentions the date.I thought he had forgotten about it, not expecting him to be serious about his invitation the other day.

I think of the plans I might have for the day, hoping I will be able to clear it for the date. “Yeah, sure.” I give him an answer, remembering that I am free on that day. Baekhyun beams brightly upon hearing it.

He keeps all his stuff in his bag while I wait for him. Baekhyun gets ready to leave as he plasters a soft smile on his face.

"I’ll see you this Saturday, then?” He confirms back as I nod. Baekhyun comes closer to me and gives one last smile before he leaves the cafe without turning back. I swear, my heart is about to jump out of my chest at that moment.

Baekhyun doesn’t text or talk to me after the day we met for the discussion. We didn’t encounter each other by chance either since our Friday’s class was also cancelled by the lecturer. Now I am pacing around in my room on Saturday. I’ve done all the chores in the house today, from doing the laundry to washing the dishes and mopping the floor. I am determined to free my schedule today just for the date. But, I’m not sure if it’s going to be happening at this rate. I don’t have the guts to text him.

I even refuse Soomin’s invitation to go to the mall because I was waiting for him. In the end, she leaves the house with Sehun and I hope he will cheer her up. I’ve been scrolling my Instagram last night and I encountered his account that practically got me to sit up abruptly from my lying position.

Indeed, he’s not the type of guy who loves to post pictures of himself. Most of the pictures were random scenery and I found them aesthetic. Maybe, he just doesn’t like to share about his life and somehow, I think it suits his personality.

Baekhyun is a mysterious guy.

My desire to get to know him, every side of him is getting stronger day by day. He’s… irresistible. There is something different about Baekhyun, something that he hides deeper, away from everyone else. I’m sure it’ll take me some time to figure him out.

Finally, my phone rings after a few hours sitting in silence. I literally run to get to the phone. When I check the notification, a grin makes its way to my face. It’s really him! Like finally! Unlocking the phone, I open the text with a click.

[Baekhyun]: Hey, miss me?

I chuckle. Baekhyun is really an annoying guy, expecting that I will be missing him.

I don’t miss him. I’m just expecting his text. That’s all.

[Byul]: Ha ha. Obviously not, Byun Baekhyun.

[Baekhyun]: Ouch. That hurts.

[Byul]: Serve you right. So, why are you texting me?

[Baekhyun]: You must’ve forgotten our date tonight, huh?

I thought you’re the one who forgets it, Baekhyun.

[Byul]: Date? What date?

[Baekhyun]: Stop playing around, Hanbyul.

[Baekhyun]: I’ll pick you up at your house if you’re okay with it.

[Byul]: My house? But, I can go by myself to the restaurant.

[Byul]: No worries.

[Baekhyun]: Hanbyul, it’s unpleasant to let a woman go by her own for the date.

[Baekhyun]: I’ll pick you up at 8. Send me your address later.

[Byul]: Okay then…

[Baekhyun]: See you.

[Baekhyun]: And I’m expecting a real address.

I text him the address of my apartment before he replies to me with a curt 'okay'. Looking at the clock, I realize I still have a few hours left before the date. I stand in front of my wardrobe, staring at the few dresses that I have hanging in it. Going through some dresses, I sigh realizing I don't have any dresses that could be suitable to wear on a first date. He did mention about booking a restaurant so I figured he wouldn't bring me to somewhere I can simply wear my ordinary dresses. After contemplating between a royal blue coloured dress and a black dress for more than a few minutes, I decided to settle with a wine-coloured dress. The dress is short but it ends nicely above my knees. I then take my bath and get myself ready despite having an hour left till 8. I choose to put on natural shades make-up before putting on my dress. Finally, I style my hair with my hair curler and let them fall loose on my shoulders.

I inform Soomin about going out, omitting the fact that I'm going out for dinner with Baekhyun. As usual, she tells me to take care of myself, to not come back too late and to call her if anything happens. I agree with all of the things she told me and tell her to have fun with Sehun. She must be having a splendid day with her boyfriend. I envy her.

When the hands on the clock move to 10 minutes before 8, I receive a text from Baekhyun.

[Baekhyun]: I'm almost there. You can come out now.

It’s time. I bring my purse together with me when leaving the house. Riding the lift to the ground level, my heart couldn’t bring itself to pump normally. I wait for him at the entrance, my toes curling in anticipation. A few minutes later, a familiar black car stops right in front of me.

The driver rolls down the window, peeking his head from the inside, “Hop in, Hanbyul.”

I take a deep breath before getting into the passenger seat, buckling myself up. Baekhyun watches me settling down and when I turn to look at him, I was awestruck. The car may be dark right now but his charming look is visible.

"Ready to go?” He asks as I nod my head. Baekhyun presses the pedal and drives the car to our destination. Believe me, I just stay still like I used to, fingers gripping tightly around the seatbelt. The urge to look at him, the way he drives, is strong but I fight the desire. I realise he is stealing a few glances at me that makes me blush quietly.

We finally arrive at the restaurant after nearly half an hour. As expected, he brings me to fancy, and most probably, expensive restaurant. I follow Baekhyun from behind as the waiter brings us to the private room that he had reserved for us. He helps me pull my chair out, letting me take my seat before he does and I thank him softly. Baekhyun only replies to me with a smile, as sweet and charming as ever.

The waiter hands out the menu and I get surprised seeing the prices that make me gulp. Baekhyun must have saw me reacting to them as he chuckles softly.

"Would anything be okay for you? Any allergies or requests?” He asks concernedly.

"Yeah… I’m okay with anything.”

"Good. I’ll order the same thing as usual,” Baekhyun tells the waiter before he leaves the room, leaving me and Baekhyun alone.

"So… how are you?” Baekhyun initiates the talk first.

"I’m fine, as you can see. How about you, Baekhyun?"

"Quite busy handling something.” He replies. My mouth turns into an ‘O’ shape and we both get into silence again. I’m so nervous to look at him straight into the eyes and at the same time, I just don’t know what topic should we talk.

"Hey," he calls, making me lift my head up to face him. "You're usually so talkative at the cafe, why are you being quiet now?" He muses, followed by an amused grin.

"Baekhyun, how old are you?” I ask after contemplating for a few seconds.

"28. Do I look too old?” He questions me back and I chuckle with a shake of my head.

"I’m 2 years younger than you,” I confess.

"Yeah, I can see that.” He chuckles huskily this time.

A waiter comes into our room with a bottle of wine, pouring it into our glasses. I thank him politely before continuing the conversation.

"Regarding our assignment, when do you want to proceed? Are you free after we have our classes or—”

"Hanbyul, can we talk about anything else aside from the project?” He orders. My breathing stops for a second, hearing him speak in such a serious tone. I bring my head down to look at the table, fiddling with the napkin as I try to think of another topic to converse.

"How about you tell me about yourself? Maybe your family or anything?” I purse my lips together, waiting for his answer. Baekhyun smirks slightly, fixing his sitting posture.

"My family isn’t interesting at all. Let’s talk about yours. Shall we?" Baekhyun taps his fingers while staring at me with the same smirk. My stomach is about to flip all over because he's making me nervous with that look. I take a glass of wine and drink it slowly, tasting the alcoholic drink that is foreign in my throat. The wine somehow causes me to make weird facial expressions and I guess, Baekhyun sees it. Because he laughs softly.

"Does it taste weird?" He asks with concern.

"Kinda but it's tolerable. Thank you for asking," I reply. At least, the wine can calm my nerves after being so nervous in front of him. Baekhyun plasters a smile before he drinks his wine, waiting for me to start telling him about myself. I take the opportunity of the silence between us to calm myself down.

"So… here it goes.” I start telling him about my background honestly. I tell him about me being an only child with divorced parents; my dad disappeared since then, while my mom got the full custody of me. A few years after the divorce, she remarried another guy, my current stepfather and decided to move in with him at New Orleans. I also have an older stepbrother named Suho. Suho is two years older than Baekhyun.

"Don’t ask me whether he has a girlfriend or not because he hasn’t talked about it with me,” I warn Baekhyun. He only chuckles to my statement and asks me to proceed with the story.

It goes on from my life in New Orleans, with my new family. He listens to me diligently while waiting for our main courses to arrive. I tell him the reason I’m continuing my studies and it’s because I would love to run my own business. But, would definitely apply for a job at any company once I graduate from this post-graduate study.

"So, you’re telling me that you work at the cafe to pay for your study?” Baekhyun asks once he sips the wine as I nod my head slowly.

"I applied for a loan for my study because I had to,” I confess with a soft tone. Realising how tough my life is when I’m trying to be an independent person for my own future. I may belong to a modest family but I have been told by my mom that living without trying to achieve one's dream are useless.

Baekhyun hums. Finally, our meals arrive on time and I am glad for the distraction because I couldn’t bring myself to tell him more about my struggling life. He thanks the waitress that served us the food before she leaves the room. We’re having steaks for dinner tonight.

"Let’s eat, shall we?” He says and I smile. Both of us start to devour the juicy and thick steaks as I leave myself stupefied with the rich taste of the meat. It’s really scrumptious and no wonder it's one hella expensive food at a 5-star restaurant.

Baekhyun notices my reaction as he asks, “How does it taste? Good?”

I bob my head up and down, carrying on to eat. He seems happy watching me eating so well as a wide smile appears across his face. Baekhyun gives me one last glance before he continues to eat.

"How about you? What made you decide to continue into this course?” I blurt out, asking him a question.

"Well, I want to expand my knowledge in business. Who knows, I might be given the opportunity to handle a big one, one fine day,” he stops, making eye contact with me. I just bob my head a few times as a sign I’m listening to his explanation.

The conversations go on and on, but the difference is the awkwardness between both of us has vanished. Baekhyun literally tells lame jokes but it’s still funny when he expresses it. It manages to make me almost choke myself while eating.

Those crescent eyes, bulging cheeks and endearing smile when he smiles caught my attention. It’s a good view to be able to witness his another side apart from his manliness. Manliness was my first impression of him when he stepped into the cafe with a well-tailored suit. Not to mention, the way he talks and behaves, he must be a great person to befriend with.

We have chocolate lava cakes for dessert. Baekhyun has been asking my favourite flavour as I answer him, “Chocolate. How about you?”

"Strawberry flavour. Gosh, I’m willing to eat them 24/7 rather than kill myself with cucumbers.” Baekhyun explains.

I scoff while giving him an unbelievable look. “You don’t like cucumbers?”

"It’s not just I don’t like it. I hate it.” Baekhyun replies with a serious tone that makes me giggle. He may look like a sulking boy right in front of me, eating the lava cake with a slight pout.

"Come on, Baekhyun. It’s just a cucumber and delicious too when you eat just like that.” I give him my own opinion.

"Na-ah! Still, I hate it.” He retorts with a scowl on his face. I chuckle lightly and eat the lava cake. Suddenly, his phone rings loudly. He digs out his phone from his pocket and looks at the dialler. Instead of answering it, he lets the rings continue as he silent his phone.

"You can answer the call, Baekhyun. I don’t mind at all, it might be important.”

"It’s okay. Not important at all,” he says. “Let’s finish this up and then I’ll send you home, okay?” I hum and continue to eat quietly in my seat. I’m curious about the caller because the phone is still ringing and vibrating as he places his phone on the table. It does look like it’s important but he insists to ignore it so I am left to wonder quietly on my own.

Baekhyun pays for dinner and we go straight to my apartment with silence lingering in the car. Without having any courage to initiate the talk, I decide to stare at the window, looking at the Moon shining brightly in the dark sky. There aren't many stars tonight, only the Moon decorating the lonely night sky. The journey to my apartment is short, basically, he drifts the car at the empty road swiftly like a professional. When we arrive in front of the lobby, he offers to help me get out of the car by opening the door and lending his hand. Which successfully makes my cheeks go red.

"Thanks for tonight and the wonderful dinner, Baekhyun,” I thank him politely.

"No problem. Rest well and I’ll see you on Monday,” he says and I nod my head. Baekhyun gets back into his car, rolling down the window and bidding the last goodbye before he leaves. I sigh in relief, grateful at the same time for the great time I spent with him tonight.

I head straight home quietly without making any noises to avoid awakening Soomin who is probably sleeping in her room. After taking a quick shower, I hop on my bed, staring at the ceiling. I reminisce the moment I had with him. It’s almost 11 pm when my phone receives a notification and I bet it’s from Baekhyun.

[Baekhyun]: Asleep already?

[Byul]: Nope. Have you arrived at your home yet?

[Baekhyun]: I’m dropping by somewhere because I promised someone to meet tonight.

[Byul]: Oh… I see.

[Baekhyun]: Hanbyul, I forget to tell you something.

[Byul]: What is it?

Baekhyun doesn't reply to my question straight away that leaves me curious on my own. I decide to switch off the lights and gets ready to sleep when suddenly my phone rings again. I unlock it and look at the text. That text manages to make my heart and my mind has gone crazy when I read it.

[Baekhyun]: You look amazing in that dress, Hanbyul.

[Baekhyun]: Goodnight and sweet dreams, beautiful.

47 notes · View notes

queenxxxsupreme · 5 years ago

Text

Solace-Jim Mason series

Chapter 4

A/N: TICKLISH JIM MASON

Warnings: WE HAVE TICKLISH JIM MASON, also high!Jim

Word Count: 2.7k

Summary: TICKLISH JIM MASON IS ALL YOU NEED TO KNOW

I jolted awake, my hands gripping the pillow underneath my head.

"Easy, girl." Lindsay spoke from across the room. She sat at her vanity, messing with whatever makeup was in her hand.

I pushed myself into a sitting position and brushed my hair out of my eyes. I looked around to see I was in Lindsay's room. My backpack was sitting at the end of the bed. I furrowed my eyebrows together.

"How did I get here?"

"That Jim guy brought you here." She pursed her lips as she applied a sparkly lip gloss. "You had me worried like crazy after you didn't text me back. I called Reese to see if maybe you bailed and just didn't let me know but he said you left the house twenty minutes before that so I messaged you. Jim texted me back."

"Where's my phone?"

"Should be in your bag. He's super cute, by the way. Are you two dating?"

"He literally just woke up from a coma, Lindsay." I reminded her as I dug around my backpack for my phone. When I found it, I unlocked it. There were twelve unread messages and sixteen missed phone calls. Seven of the phone calls were from Reese, three were from dad, and six were from Lindsay. Reese had messaged me four times last night, Lindsay and dad both had messaged me three times, and Jim messaged me two times.

8:48p.m From: Lindsay Grace <"Where are you at?">

8:52p.m. From: Reese Carlisle <"Have you made it to Lindsay's yet?">

9:00p.m. From: Reese Carlisle <"Lindsay said she hasn't seen you. You need to answer your damn phone Sonny.">

9:04p.m From: Dad <"I don't appreciate the attitude tonight and I don't appreciate you leaving the house without asking me.">

9:05p.m. From: Reese Carlisle <"Are you trying to get yourself grounded?">

9:06p.m. From: Dad <"We'll talk in the morning about you and how you've been acting recently.">

9:06p.m From: Dad <"I'm not the bad guy Sonny.">

9:09p.m. From: Lindsay Grace <"You're starting to worry me babe. Where are you at?">

9:12p.m. From: Reese Carlisle <"Don't make me come looking for you asshole.">

9:16p.m. From: Lindsay Grace <"I told Reese that you were safe. I told him you were with the Jim guy and he was bringing you to me.">

9:32p.m. From: Jim Mason <"I know you're still probably passed out but I just wanted to let you know that I'm glad I could be there for you tonight.">

9:32p.m. From: Jim Mason <"I hope you're still up for surfing tomorrow.">

I smiled at the texts from Jim and reread the last one a few times. It wasn't even ten o'clock yet.

"What happened last night?" Lindsay turned around in her seat to face me.

"Me and Jim just hung out." I tossed my phone down on to the bed and then laid back on the pillows. "And I passed out like a fucking idiot, Lindsay."

"You haven't slept well in weeks, Sonny." She moved to lay across the end of her bed. "Don't beat yourself up over it."

"But I fell asleep talking to him! He must think I think he's boring." I put my hands over my face.

"Sweetie, you're a drama queen." She rolled her eyes.

"I know." I turned over on to my stomach to bury my face in one of the pillows. "I hate my life."

"Girl, shut up!" Lindsay shook my ankle. "You've got a roof over your head and parents who love you. And you've got the greatest friend anyone could have."

"Who's that?" I lifted my head up to look over at her.

"Me, bitch." She threw a pillow at me.

***

I waved back to Lindsay as I made my way up to the front porch of my house. I was thankful to have her drop me off. I didn't want to chance running in to Will.

My phone buzzed in the back pocket of my skinny jeans. It was a text from Medina.

1:02p.m. From: Medina Mason <"Hey can you come over?">

I walked into my house and kicked the door shut behind me as I typed out a response.

1:03p.m. To: Medina Mason <"Yeah. Me and Jim said we were going to go surfing today.">

"Hey, asshole." Reese approached me.

"Hey, dickwad."

"Language!" Steph called from the kitchen.

"Is that you, Sonny?" Dad asked. He was with Steph in the kitchen. I made it only half way up the stairs before he was asking for me.

"Damn it." I cursed, but didn't stop. I wasn't in the mood to talk.

"He's really not happy, Sonny." Reese followed me.

"I'm not in the mood to be lectured, Reese. Jim and I are hanging out today."

"Not if dad has any say in it."

"Sonny!" Dad called from the bottom of the stairs, his voice stern and almost harsh. "I'd like to talk with you."

I turned to face Reese, looking up at him with pleading eyes.

"Is there anything you can do to hold him off? I really want to see Jim." I murmured quietly. Reese brushed his fingers through his hair and let out a heavy sigh.

"Sonny!"

"I'll-I'll tell you what happened at the party." I bargained, messing with my fingers as I looked down at my feet. "Please, Reese."

"This guy means something to you, doesn't he?" Reese's voice was quiet. I shrugged my shoulders.

"I don't know. He's nice." I smiled a little at the thought of Jim's blue eyes and childish smile. "We're going surfing today. You taught me how to surf."

"Yeah, I know."

"Emerson Marie, I won't repeat myself again!"

"I'll go talk to him." Reese turned to walk away but I grabbed his arm and wrapped my arms around him to hug him tightly.

"Thank you, Reese."

"Yeah, yeah. You owe me."

***

My knee bounced up and down nervously as we approached Jim's house. Reese had told dad that he was taking me surfing for a little 'big brother, little sister' time. He told dad that maybe this would be good for me and that maybe this would make me a little more open to talking to dad later on tonight.

Reese was going to go hang out in town with Lindsay and a few friends while I spent the rest of the day with Jim.

"You want me to help you carry your board to the beach?" Reese glanced into the back of his truck.

"No, I got it." I shook my head as I slipped out of his truck. I threw my backpack over my shoulder and closed the door. I pulled my surfboard out of the bed of his truck and then moved around to lean it against the side of his truck. I looked up at my big brother, giving him a little smile. "Thank you again, Reese. This means a lot to me."

"Just promise me you'll be a little nicer to dad. Tty to talk to him tonight, okay? If you talk to him, you don't have to tell me about the party."

I nodded my head, biting my bottom lip almost hard enough to draw blood. I picked up my board and turned to go towards Jim's house.

Medina appeared on the front doorstep, watching my brother's dark blue truck pull away.

"Hey, Medina." I greeted her with a little smile.

"Jim's having a bad day, Sonny." She warned, her voice quiet and solemn. The smile fell from my lips as I took in her words.

"What? What do you mean?"

"Lets put your board in the garage. I'll take you inside to him."

***

Medina led me into her house, her hand wrapped around my wrist as she guided me through a sliding back door. I had left my surfboard and backpack in the garage. She paused, peering around a corner as if to check the next room for someone. Then she pulled me down a dimly lit hallway.

I felt like I wouldn't be welcomed by her mother, who I'd only heard briefly about from Medina herself.

"Am I allowed to be here?" I asked her quietly.

"Definitely not." She shook her head. She stopped at a door at the end of the hallway and knocked three times. “Hey, Jim? Sonny’s here to see you.”

There was no response.

“Is he okay?” I asked Medina, furrowing my eyebrows together.

“He took some of mom’s pills this morning.” Medina opened the door and went into the room. I lingered in the doorway, crossing my arms.

“Has he been using since he got out of the hospital?”

Jim was laying on the bed against the far side of his room with a pair of headphones on. He was lazily bopping his head to whatever music he was listening to.

“This is the first I’ve known about. He won’t tell me what exactly he took.” Medina pulled the headphones off of his head. Jim opened his eyes and a dazed smile crossed his lips.

“Hey, Medina.” He reached up for the headphones she held above him.

“Sonny’s here, Jim. You two had plans of going surfing today, remember?”

Jim turned his head to look at me. It took him a second for his brain to process what he was seeing. He rubbed his eyes and then propped himself up on one elbow.

“Let’s go!”

“You’re not going surfing like this, idiot.” Medina shook her head.

“Medina!” A shrill voice called from down the hallway.

Medina hurried to grab my arm, tugging me further into Jim’s room.

“Stay in here. If you hear anyone coming, get in the closet.” She pointed to the door behind me. “I’ll be back.”

She closed the door to Jim’s bedroom behind her. I looked around briefly, my eyes catching sight of a picture on the stand by his bed. It was of Medina, Jim, and who I assumed to be his parents. They all appeared to be happy. Jim saw what I was looking at and turned his head to look too.

“That was before everything turned to shit.” He reached his hand out to grab the picture but only managed to knock it over. He mumbled a soft curse word under his breath and ran his hands over his face, brushing his messy brown hair away from his forehead. He rested his hands on his chest, his eyes flickering to meet mine. A little smile found his lips. “Hi, Emerson.”

I couldn’t help but smile. Even in his drug-hazed state, he remembered my real name.

“Hi, James.” I moved to sit on the edge of his bed.

“M’sorry I ruined our plans.” He whispered softly, bringing his hand up to brush his fingers over my cheek. I tensed at the simple action, unsure of what he was doing. His fingertips trailed up my jaw and under my ear. His fingers gently hooked around the back of my neck. The pad of his thumb brushed over my cheek. “I ruin everything.” The frown that found its way to his lips was foreign. It didn’t look right on his pink lips.

“You didn’t ruin anything, Jim.” I assured him. “We can surf another time.”

“But we were suppose to surf today.”

“Today, we can just chill in here until you feel better.” My phone buzzed in my pocket but I ignored it. It was probably just my father or Reese. “What happened, Jim?”

He gazed up at me for a few more silent heartbeats, his blue eyes seemed to study me. Then his hand fell from my face and he turned his head away from me.

“Mom had an episode early this morning.” His voice lowered in an attempt to hide his emotions, but I could hear them plain as day. “She had me up before six. She was going on and on about.... about how-how all men were the same. All men were trash and disgusting and pigs and-and none of them were worth a damn. I thought she’d lay off, you know? After I almost fucking died.” He shook his head.

He sniffled and wiped his cheeks. He was crying.

“She’s still just pissed about dad leaving.”

“You’re not like other guys, Jim.” I promised him, placing my hand on his arm. “You’re better.”

“You don’t even know me.” He turned over on to his side so his back was to me.

“You took me to my friend’s house last night after I passed out on the sidewalk, Jim.” I laughed at out pathetic what I had said sounded. “You know how many guys wouldn’t have done what you did? I know plenty that would’ve done what they wanted to me and then left me there in the street. But you didn’t. You took me to Lindsay’s house.”

He said nothing. I put my hand on his side, not meaning to do anything other than to comfort him. But he tensed up and a little laugh escaped his lips. He was ticklish. A little grin crossed my lips as I thought of an idea. I started to tickle his side lightly, drawing a melodious laughter from him.

“Stop it! You’re not-You’re not funny!”

“I don’t like seeing you so upset.” I gave in, deciding it was best to not have him raise his voice. I didn’t want his mother to come in.

Jim turned over on to his back to look up at me as I positioned myself so that I was leaning over him, my knee resting on the edge of the bed.

“Why don’t you try to sleep this off?” I suggested. “I’ll hang out with Medina and when you wake up, we can go walk on the beach.”

“I don’t want you to leave.” He pouted, his bottom lip sticking out more than it needed to.

“You’re gonna have to sleep for a few hours, Jim. What do you want me to do while you’re sleeping?”

He suddenly sat up and his arms wrapped around me, pinning my arms to my sides. A little squeal left my lips as he pulled me down on to the bed with him.

“Just lay here, okay?” He hummed softly, resting his head on the pillow next to me. I started to move a little to get comfortable, opting to lay on my side facing him. He kept one hand on my side while his other arm was folded underneath his head. I watched as his eyes fluttered shut.

I didn’t mind laying there in his bed with him. I was able to study his face and watch him. He looked so angelic, so peaceful. He’d make a stunning acrylic painting.

***

Twenty minutes later, I heard footsteps coming down the hallway. My heart started to race as I feared it would be his mother. I carefully slipped out of the bed. Luckily, Jim was knocked out. I got into the closet just as the door opened.

“Sonny, it’s just me.” Medina whispered. I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding as I stepped out of the closet. “How long has he been sleeping?”

“Not too long.” I answered, my eyes lingering on Jim’s resting face. Medina sunk down against the door to his room and brushed her fingers through her hair.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do, Sonny.” She whispered. I sat down next to her. “He’s never going to get better. I-I’m leaving in three weeks to stay with my dad. The reason he overdosed was because I’m leaving. If I leave, he has no one here.”

“He has me.” I murmured gently, taking my bottom lip between my teeth. I turned my head to look at her. She watched me carefully, almost like she was wary of me. “I.... I like him, Medina.”

“I know. But I don’t want you to stick around just long enough to help him get better and then leave him.” She shook her head. I nodded, understanding what she was saying. “Sonny, he’s a sweet guy. He’s amazing. He doesn’t deserve the shit our mother’s putting him through.”

I nodded again, unsure of what to say. Silence was probably best. Sometimes all someone wanted was for someone to listen to what they had to say. They didn’t want someone to say anything.

***

It was after five and Jim had yet to wake up. He was still fast asleep and I didn’t want to wake him up but Reese was on his way to pick me up.

“Medina, I have to go.” I told her. We’d spent the whole day talking about everything and nothing in her brother’s room, watching over him while he slept. We weren’t sure how much he’d taken or what exactly he had taken. I could imagine she was scared that he would overdose. I was too, to be honest. “My brother is on his way to pick me up.”

“Okay.” She nodded her head, standing up from the desk chair. “I’ll go see where mom is.”

I watched her leave. I shifted in my spot, my eyes flickering back to Jim. He was laying face down with his head on the mattress. He had pushed the pillows away a while ago. My phone buzzed. Reese was outside. I moved to Jim’s bedside and gently shook his shoulder.

“Hey, Jim?” I whispered his name. “Jim? I have to go.”

He groaned sleepily, his brows drawing together.

“M’sorry. I’m bad company.” He was still too tired to open his eyes.

“No you aren’t.” I assured him, brushing his hair out of his eyes. “I’ll try to come back over tonight, okay? How does that sound?”

“Good.” A sleepy smile crossed his lips.

“Good.” I smiled down at him. “Get some rest, Jim. I’ll text you later.” Without thinking, I leaned down and kissed his forehead. Just as I was turning away from him, Medina opened the door to his room and motioned for me to follow her. As I got to the door, I glanced back to Jim one last time. His eyes were open and he was watching me.

I can’t believe I just did that.

#jim mason #tribe of palos verdes #tribeofpalosverdes #cody fern #it's missing Jim Mason hours #series #solace series #queenxxxsupreme

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pointlesspoetryy-blog · 6 years ago

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Driving Lessons (fiction)

A fictional story about a teenage girl’s final process of moving on from a tragic event. I wanted to capture the feeling or idea of “driving” away from something, a traumatic event, something you haven’t let go of. 2693 words. It’s a long one.

Driving Lessons

”My mum and little sister died when I was eleven and I killed... no… I did… please...don’t give me excuses”.

And that’s all I remember from my session today. In fact, that’s all I remember saying all day. I remember Dad taking me to the cafe across the street from the therapist’s and eating a sandwich that was far too chewy to be worth its twelve dollar price tag. Then I remember taking the train home with him and going to my room and staring at my math homework. I think I cried because of the 2010 family picture on my wall, but that could have been yesterday.

I haven’t been in a car since the accident. I’ve been told it was an accident but I still don’t think it was. That’s why I had therapy today. I’ve been fighting with my Dad because I don’t want some idiot with a degree telling me why I killed half my family. He broke down and said he’s so sorry he didn’t help me sooner, for not being there for me. I eventually agreed in the heat of the moment.

Most people think it’s weird that I haven’t been in a car for five years, but it’s not all that hard. If I do something on the weekend it has to be by the train, but usually, I’m just in my room. My room is where it’s safe and I feel safe and I can’t hurt anyone. I’ve been told I have some sort of complex, but then again not many people have caused what I’ve caused. A month ago, I took and passed the computerised driving test, for the hell of it and to make Dad happy. My L plates now sit in my drawer, untouched and hated. Now, all of my friends are starting to drive, being sixteen and all, but I know I could never set foot on a brake, turn a key, start an engine; roll down the windows, blast music, drive my friends home from a party; sing along to a song while I drive, the way my mother would always do, her sweet voice in tune with a cassette tape. When I was six and she’d take me home from dance lessons, she would put in a nursery rhymes CD and we’d yell the lyrics to Humpty Dumpty on the Princes Highway, windows down and wind in my face.

I remember the song that was playing right before the accident. Sometimes I lie awake in the dead of night and the music will crawl into my brain from some deep dark corner and my chest seizes up and I can’t breathe. I hear cars zooming down my neighbourhood from outside my window and I want to stand up and yell at them to stop, to please save themselves, but I am frozen and sweating under my covers. I flashback to the moment, the suspension of air and time and then the crushing sensation of the ground. All I can hear is the CD player scratching and the lyrics breaking over and over and over again as I lie there and eventually the disc machine gives up and the scratchy song stops; and then, silence. The song is so ironic that many times in these panic attacks I’ll burst out laughing- God really does have a sense of humour. “Stayin’ Alive” by the Bee Gees.

I got given pills at thirteen, some chemical compacted into a tablet that was supposed to make me forget. I tried to take them but they made me numb, oblivious to the world with a layer of rose glass glazed over everything. It was as if you took your depression and put a barbie bandaid on it. I started flushing the stupid things down the toilet, and the panic attacks came back. It was better than forgetting my mum and little sister ever existed.

It’s Sunday and I wake up at 5 am. This is normal for me, don’t worry. I check my phone and drink some water, and do my usual routine of lying awake for two hours, mind blank. Early morning is the only time I feel okay; I can picture my little sister snoring in the room next to me in her tiny pink barbie bed. I used to jump into it every morning, waking her up and blowing raspberries on her face. She would cling to me as I piggybacked her to the kitchen and made us Weetbix for breakfast. Mum would pad down the stairs in her dressing gown and make tea- she wouldn’t drink coffee because of the baby- and my Dad would follow, letting the dogs in and making everyone pancakes on the days he wasn’t working. Mum would hug us goodbye and take Milly to kindergarten as I walked to the bus stop. Now, my Dad will wake up early and come into my room, every day, probably to check that I’m still alive.

I startle as he knocks on my door at 7 am. My body is tired, a familiar throb that wakes up with me. I pretend to be asleep as Dad sits at the foot of my bed. “B?”. He uses the same tone every morning when he says my nickname, apprehensive and tense. I breathe loudly and can instantly sense his relief. He pats my shoulder.

“I have to tell you something sweetheart”, he says, and I can tell from his voice that it’s not going to be okay.

“Promise me you’ll be okay with this”

“What is it, Dad”

“I… I booked you a driving lesson for this afternoon”

And my whole world goes black.

I wake up again around 9 am and at first, I can’t remember what’s wrong. I climb out of bed and sweep my hair off my forehead, realising I’ve been sweating. I find myself going to my sisters' room; it’s been untouched for five years, a thin layer of grime covering her Barbie dolls and toys. I sit on her bed and it creaks. I often do this, lying under her pink covers and crying. “I miss you, Mills. I’m so sorry. You would have been ten today, baby”.

I pace into the kitchen and sit at the table with my Dad, a full cup of coffee at my seat. Dad looks empty. “It’s…”

“Yeah, it’s Mill’s birthday” I interject. There’s no reason to beat around the bush. I rarely reveal my emotions to people, no-one needs to know how I sit in my sisters' room and cry, or talk to my mum in my sleep. “I thought this would be a good day to move on, Brea. For you to learn how to drive”. There’s a long pause. Dad’s tone is slow and tired. I am silent, but not by choice, but because instead of words I have tears bubbling up. “We just. Need to move on. You have to move on B, this isn’t healthy” he’s saying, but all I am hearing is “forget about their suffering and drive without them”.

“Dad, I can’t. You know that” I choke out. “What if I’m responsible for someone else’s death again? There’s just too much to handle”. Dad lowers his head to the table. His tone is gruff. “It wasn’t your fault Brea, Jesus Christ. Your lesson is at four o'clock this afternoon, understand? Don’t you see how I suffer too, watching you waste your life and blame yourself for this bloody mess? You were eleven years old, Breanna. It was dumb bad luck”. I am silent.

10 am fades into the afternoon, which melts into 3 pm. I’ve switched between lying in my bed, staring at my math homework, ignoring my friend’s messages. Dad appears at my door. “Breanna, it’s time. Get dressed”. I feel pretty numb, along with knowing there’s no way I’m getting in the instructors' car. “How are we getting there?”, “we’re driving” Dad responds in a muted tone. “Nuh-uh. No way.” I try, tears prickling. “You can sit in the back. It’s happening, Brea” is the response I get, no sympathy, no recognition of my fear. I swallow and sidle into the back seat. Dad’s face softens and his tone changes. “I’ll drive real slowly, the place is only six kilometres away”. I curl up inside my seatbelt, trying to cure the unfamiliar feeling.

My eyes remain shut the entire long trip, although only long because Dad drives slowly. Still, every speed bump, jolt and close-passing car makes me panic. At some point, I press my hand up to the window, a light rain misting the view. I didn’t want to look outside anyway.

All of a sudden I am standing outside the instructors' car, his face frowning back at me. Rain tickles my scalp, and I can’t tell if the wetness on my cheeks is rain or tears.

“I’ll be in the back seat, B. You got this” I hear Dad say, distantly. The instructor stands in front of me. “As this is your first time driving, we will only be driving around one street. However, I will first teach you the basics of the clutch and wheel etc…”

His voice fades into the air for me. I want to run away, but there are cars that will chase me: in other words, I’m trapped.

It’s time for me to enter the car. I’m almost dissociating from reality but there is nothing I can do. The instructor shows me how to use the clutch and pedal, but his words are bullshit to me. He places a key in my trembling hands, expecting me to know what to do with it. “Is she okay?” the guy is asking my Dad, his words sounding distant and echoey in my drumming brain. “She’s fine… just experiencing some drivers anxiety…” I bite my lip so hard that I feel the capillaries burst; I can hear them pop… not normal… focus. I turn the key and the engine starts, abruptly. And I am plunged into somewhere else.

It is February 2013, a warm day in Sydney. My little sister and I play fight and wrestle as we make our way through the parking lot. Mum tells us to cut it out, and cut it out quick! But she is laughing. Sugar from my popsicle lingers on my lips, sticky in the sun. Milly has her arms wrapped around my waist and I’m forced to drag her, groaning and panting, I lock my fingers into hers and twist them back. “OWWWW” she exclaims and starts to cry. “No! SHH, Mills! No crying allowed on your birthday!” I yell-whisper, cautious of Mum in the near distance, knowing I’ll get in trouble for making Milly cry. I pick her up and carry her as I walk. “Stupid face!” I grin, and she grins back. Sugar has gotten to her head and she wriggles out of my arms and runs across the parking lot. “Mills, come back!” I yell at her, knowing I’m partly responsible for her safety. Mum gets her. I smile. Luna Park was just what Milly needs on her fifth birthday, and it was kinda fun too, even when I’m as old as eleven.

“Push over, loser” I playfully shove Mills off my favourite back seat. “Honey, you sit in the front today” My mum smiles behind her Ray Bans. Her lipstick is cherry coloured and teeth straight and white, eyes so kind as they peer over the top of her glasses. I scowl as I climb into the front, wondering why I didn’t get the good genes. Milly has the same kind eyes; I know she’ll be beautiful by my age. Oh! “Milllllls, it’s time for your birthday present!” I grin and look behind me at her excitement. I throw back my handmade paper card with a stick figure drawing and a stuffed animal full of candy. Mum scowls lightly and starts the car, the sudden sound of the engine abrupt. We roll out of the parking lot into Sydney traffic. Mum lets me choose the CD for the car trip, Mills doesn’t seem too fussed, even though I know she’d like some Britney Spears; I hate Britney Spears. I choose an Old Hits CD and ignore Milly’s protests.

It’s been about half an hour and we’re on a busy-looking highway. Mum’s letting me go on her phone and Milly’s fast asleep in the back, sugar crash no doubt. “I can’t wait ‘til Mill is older and I’m super old like twenty-three and we can be adults together” I happily tell Mum as she pretends to listen; I notice but I keep rambling anyway. “Will we still go to Luna Park when we’re older? Mums?”

“Sorry, darling, I’m a bit tired… love, just let me focus”. I always forget that Mum’s pregnant, because her bump is still small, but she somehow already knows it’s gonna be a boy. Science is cool. I heard Mum and Dad talking about names just last night, it’s gonna be Jamie or Sam or most likely Tye. I think Tye sounds stupid, like the hair tie on my wrist.

My favourite song from the CD comes on- “Stayin Alive” by the Bee Gees. Anticipation lulls away and I rest my head on the windowsill.

I hear Milly wake up before I see her because she stops her annoying snoring, finally. “Where’s my stuffy!” she whines, rubbing her eyes.

“Are we nearly there, Mummy?”

“Not yet baby”

“Where’s my stuffy? I want candy” “I don’t know love, go back to sleep”

Out the corner of my eye, I see Milly reach for my present, having rolled to the opposite side of the back seat, under Mum’s. “Can’t… reach..” she mutters; I’m singing along to the chorus of Stayin Alive. Mum quietly curses at a car as it overtakes her. “Reckless people” she mutters. “Mum, you okay,” I ask. “Yes darling, can you check on your sister?”

The barely audible click of a seatbelt unfastening reaches my ears. “Mills… Mills! Get back!” I whisper.

“My stuffyyyy”, Milly is crawling to the other side of the backseat. Mum sees her in the rearview mirror. “Milly...Camilla!”

Mills has gotten herself wedged in between the back seat and the front seat, reaching for her stuffed toy. I roll my eyes. “You’re gonna get in trou-ble” I tease. “Don’t you unclip your belt, Brea”, Mum warns me sternly. “Milly darling please, get back to your seat, I can’t pull over here”, a worried expression on Mum’s face, hand on her bumpy stomach. Milly rustles her stuffed animal free from under the front seat and prepares to climb back up. I lay my head back on the windowsill. I hear a scream.

“SPIDER!”

Mum jerks her head around to the back in a startle. She knocks the steering wheel with her left elbow as I watch in confusement. In the lane beside us, approaches a truck.

It only takes a split second.

Passengers in the backseat are 46 percent more likely to die in a car crash than front seat passengers and drivers.

For some reason, this processed Wikipedia sentence repeats over and over in my head as I sit at the driver’s seat, fingers on the turned, rumbling engine, standstill; back to reality. Two pairs of eyes watch me in concernment as I shake, breathing, in, out, in.

“Um.. so… you have to push your foot on the pedal and…” The instructor.

I’m not listening.

I’m crying, and I look to Dad for comfort, but he’s not there. Instead, it’s young Mills and Mum and her baby bump. “Hey guys” I smile. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry I gave Milly her present in the car… I should have waited like you told me too, Mum”. I silently cry, hoping the instructor can’t see. “I should have let us have the life you deserve, with me and Mill and Tye”; Mum and Mill smile sadly at me. “Happy birthday Milly baby” I whisper. “What do you want for your birthday? You can have anything”.

“I want you to drive me home, big sis”.

So I do.

#shortstory writing amateur

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goldeneagle27 · 6 years ago

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I just wanna remember today for forever, i wanna remember it as clearly as i remember the 6th of February, 2011, the start of this absolutely crazy journey life has taken him on.

I had adored him for a long time by then and 2010 was the absolute peak of my fangirl life, with Felipe being back, Michael being back and him being in Renault, doing great. I had even higher hopes for 2011 and 10-year-old me was crushing on him harder than ever, being embarrassed whenever someone caught me loving him.

That day is stuck with me for forever, i remember logging out of my email and checking the news, seeing what happened to him and my world just going down.

I started praying for him that night and i havent stopped since, praying he would recover and the mental and physical suffering he had to endure would be over. I was still so young and i had no idea how serious it was and how it was not a black and white thing, not a whether he was going to be 100% again or not. I didnt see this spectrum of 'grey' between the black and white, the option of him returning despite having his limitations.

September 19th, 2012, i dont think i had ever been more excited and thrilled then i was seeing him win the first rally he took part in after the crash. I rewatched all the footage we got a billion times, and all the interviews and i was over the moon. I still have a picture on my wall of him and his co-driver celebrating that win and i love that shot.

I grew to love rallying when we started racing in WRC2 and i literally did all i could to get as much info as i could, constantly cursing google translate not producing an understandable translation of the Polish articles. He was heavily criticised and i hated it, he was the best for me and even though he crashed out a lot (understandably, due to lack of experience) and i was absolutely terrified of him getting hurt again, seeing him racing again was the greatest thing ever. I was going through some heavy stuff in his WRC2 year and to be honest, having him inspiring me to fight through it all was huge. I was dealing with some mental health stuff and self-harming and all that jazz and i was relying on idols much more than i probably should have but i didnt have anyone else to turn to. He was always my go-to and even though it sounds silly, i was always able to gain strength from him and from how determined he was.

Him doing a full year in WRC, i dont think i knew back then how huge that was and i know he got such harsh criticism but looking back i know that 1, it was amazing that he did a full year in the top category of rallying and 2, people were overly judgemental of him and i did not like that at all. He did his best trying to catch up with people who had grown up on rallying. He was and is a single-seater-guy, it would have taken him time to reach their level. Even family members were asking me like 'ehh your man Robert isnt doing too great is he? Looks like he isnt coming back is he?' to which i could reply with nothing but silence because i felt like i was losing hope and it was tough for me as well. Him as an idol has been so embedded in my identity for as long as i can remember and me loving him has been such a huge part of who i am and i knew he was never gonna be neutral for me and i was never gonna not root for him coming back and being back to where he belong, being happy.

There were a couple years when it was tuned down due to lack of major news and due to me crushing on real people (which sounds ridiculous but i was too gay to care with my freshly discovered queer identity) but it all came back last year.

June 6th, 2017, him back in an F1 car after over six years, i was shaking with excitement, refreshing all possible pages, watching all videos, saving all pictures and feeling like it was a dream coming true. It was where he belonged and it was where i wanted to see him, all my emotions were back in a blink of an eye and i felt 10, 12 again, fangirling and just being over the moon happy.

I was praying for him to get the Williams seat last year, but more like praying for him to get how he wanted it to be and i cried my eyes out when he didnt get signed, which is yet again ridiculous but he is too significant for me.

I honestly didnt think they were going to choose him this year and i was genuinely surprised but also in disbelief as the rumors started getting stronger. I wasnt gonna believe it till it was official, there was no way i was going to fall as hard again as i did in January but ohh my, today has been such a day.

I didnt want to believe it till it was official and even though i was refreshing this blog about him literally every minute for an hour before the announcement, i still wasnt hyping myself up too much. But i wanna remember how it happened for forever. I was sitting at my desk, doing a Biology paper for school and seeing it was 10 o'clock already (the start of the press conference), i looked at my phone and i had a tumblr notification that somebody posted a picture. I opened it and i saw it was a screenshot of the official F1 instagram profile's announcement of his comeback. I was franctically refreshing everything, shaking and squeaking and crying tears of joy, it was amazing.

The circle is full now and i honestly cannot wait for what is yet to come. He is my biggest idol, my man, my hero and im more than proud to have supported him throughout this journey. He's back.

"Let the rain wash away, all the pain of yesterday

I know my kingdom awaits and they've forgiven my mistakes

Im coming home"

#personal

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imagine-wannaone · 7 years ago

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Let That Ship Sale

Lmao once again can’t title but I’m back, and the request was for an award show or something but the isac’s where the other day and wanna one has never gone and I like to dream okay so I hope this is okay, i could do another at an actual show w another member if you’d like idk. Also props to whoever can tell whoever the idols faces at the isac’s I edited out of the pictures (That I don’t own btw credit to owners) for the header board thingy belong to hehe.

Summary: All your fans are shipping you with Daniel and you can’t say you disagree.

• The ISAC’s were always something you had mixed emotions about, • Your group was pretty popular and didn’t exactly need the promotion, but your company was small so it was a good idea to go anyway, even if it was just to have a bit of fun, • You enjoyed spending time with friends from other groups and sending your fans things you’d made, but you could be working on new songs and just the fact the day was so long, • But at least you got to wear a tracksuit like damn, • You were a self producing group who tried out most genres, generally more hiphop and R&B so you’d had many different clothing styles, but nothing beat the black tracksuit the event organizer handed you and the four others in your group, • But at way too early o'clock (honestly any time before 11 am) you pulled yourself out of the car with your group and made your way to the stadium, you all had unique styles; braided hair or sunglasses, • Wow y'all so beautiful and powerful looking I’m quaking, • Y'all known for singing about important matters and independence and basically being badass and are actually rlly respected for it and popular, • Don’t take no shit from no one, you’re out to win today, • And to compliment your friends about all their comebacks and catch up of course, • And then there’s the small matter of Mr Kang Daniel, • One of the boys of the Monster Rookie™ group Wanna One that had taken the nation’s hearts pretty much overnight, • The fans of your group and his had, continuously since their debut, been shipping you nonstop, • And yeah, you thought he was cute and funny but you’d never even met; the most you’ve done was nod to each other or complimented his group on passing after a performance, • And you’re slightly afraid that the shipping would now make it awkward for the two of you to meet and interact; afraid your Stan’s would take it way too far, • You just hope you can get a ‘hi’ or a quick conversation in today with him, although you know it may be difficult, • But your whole group is about not really caring about others’ standards, so you’re going have to remember that, • The opening runs smoothly, and you manage to sneak up to where the fans are and hand out your lunch boxes yourself, although the rules say you really shouldn’t go to the fans area, • (VIXX what trolls this year tho I love them) • You’re sat with Irene and Yeri, Seulgi quite literally asleep on your lap and your members teasing your fans not 10 feet away and honestly wow, • But then the archery gets called up and you have to slide yourself away, • Which breaks your heart because yanno when a puppy is asleep on you so you can’t move? • Like that, • But you grab Tae, the member you’re going to do archery with, and wander off, • You go second, so while you’re waiting you slip some black face paint out of your pocket, before painting some black streaks across Tae’s cheeks as she paints 3 down your face, • Because how else you gunna show you’re ready for war????? • As soon as your competitors look over to you they burst out laughing at the funny faces you pull, one of those competitors in waiting including Kang Daniel himself,

• You make sure to send him a goofy fake scowl, challenging him, to which he cracks up,

• Omg a beautiful sight, Daniel smiling? Those cresent eyes? Soft cheeks? WoW, • In essence - face paint is a very effective way to distract your competitors as well as amusing your fans, • And you totally ace the archery, • You walk away with a Silver medal and that’s totally good enough for you, • But then an interview reporter grabs you and you’re whisked away, • At this point you’re used to it, them Interviewers - they’re everywhere, • “Y/N congratulations on the silver medal! It must have something to do with the face paint?” • The lady smiles brightly and you laugh a little, • “It must be, it was Tae’s idea to show we meant business,” • The lady laughs at this, and starts to ask questions about your latest comeback and the paint, noting how you may have started a new fashion trend, the concept of your new song and making you rap a little bit of your verse, to which your fans scream, • Wow we love a supportive family, • They make your heart race as always as you wave to them, • “One quick thing before you go, Y/N, I don’t suppose you’ve heard your fans talk about you and wanna ones Kang Daniel?” • You’re heart drops at that and you blush, laughing nervously, • “I’ve seen a few things, but don’t know a lot about it,” • You’re such a great liar damn no one suspects a thing, • “Ah, quite a lot of fans are shipping you; saying you’d make a very cute couple,” • You know this is very much a breach of privacy and kinda rude, but you’re known for being quite laid back in your group, so you’re not thrown, although maybe a little lost for words,

• And answers, • And anything that won’t give away your small crush on the member of wanna one, • “ Ah, I think our fans are right, Daniel is very cute and charming, although I’ve not really got the opportunity to get to know him yet,” • Lmao smooth, • Yeah right, you’re pretty obvious, • Although you’re sort of mortified by the fact you’ve inadvertently just said 1) Daniel is very cute to thousands of people and 2) you basically ship the two of you, • You do your natural thing and play it off as if you just told them your first name, • You hear some laughing nearby and quickly glance to spot where you recognise Ong Seongwoo and Kim Jaehwan slapping Daniel himself on the back, way too close, his cheeks bright red and a soft smile on his face as the cameras, no doubt, zoom in on him, • He waves a little when he sees you looking, • Wow what is a normal heart rate,

• You laugh, • At least you’re not the only one to get a taste of this embarrassment, • You’re not alone in your suffering, • And you nearly run away to hide when the interviewer motions Daniel to come closer and he actually complies, • What a snake, • He greets the interviewer and the two of you bow to each other all flushed, not knowing how to stand next to each other, • It’s all very awkward wow, • You know you’ve all been in the situation where you’re with that family member and they’ve already asked about school/work and now have nothing to say, • yeah idk if that’s too specific, • “Daniel, I don’t suppose you’ve heard about the fans shipping either? How do you feel about it?” • You want to melt as Daniels eyes meet yours and a smile stretches across his face, • “I think y/n’s music is incredible and she’s very cute and I’d like to get to know her more,” • You’re dead, • Daniels whole face is red as his eyes skim everywhere and he laughs a little, • This is so weird and unheard of, don’t fans usually not want their idols to date? Aren’t there many things and rules about this? • (y'all it’s stupid it’s their own life let idols date if they want) • But here you are, stood next to your crush, both of you blushing messes, getting set up by your own fans, • “Well that’s very interesting, make sure to get to know each other later,”

• The MC/interviewer chirps and you laugh and stay cool as always, proud you haven’t let anything show except for maybe a slight blush, • Daniel goes to leave but quickly throws his arms around you, giving you a hug at the speed of light before flying away,

• You can hear the fans in the stadium squeal jeez, • Wow, what just happened??? • You quickly jog back to your group who’s hanging out with GFriend and Seventeen after having to send some aegyo to the crowd, • You nearly died of the embarrassment and cringe, but soldiered through, • Let’s just say you get roasted, • Apparently everyone in your group is a savage???? Do they hate you???? Wish for your torment????? • Nah they’re just your best friends, • And just when you’re forgetting about your interview ordeal, your group gets called for the relay race you’re all determined to conquer, having perfect harmony for the change over, • While you may not be the tallest, you’re all fast as hell, having run away from your manager a couple of times, • Lmao you just wanted boba tea, • But you draw more paint, all slightly different, onto the others’ faces before heading over to the track to show everyone what running actually is, • You run last, which is a lot of pressure wow, • And your member is running towards you and they’re neck and neck with a member of twice like damn, • But you take the baton smooth as hell and your legs move quicker than you can compute, almost leaving your torso behind as you focus your whole mind on faster, smoother, faster, • As you’re speeding past you spot Daniel out of the corner of your eye yelling and you can hear your name and wow, • Your heart starts hammering even harder and your head goes a little dizzy, your legs stumbling a little, • But nah you don’t let no boy get in the way of your gold medal as you steam ahead and wow, • 1st place what a gem, • I mean it’s your 3rd gold medal in relay, you guys holding the title, just champs I guess ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ • When sport 💪💪 is life ✌✌✌ can’t let anyone 👨👩 beat you 💃💃 • I hate myself, • But then Daniel’s doing relay as well so you make sure to cheer equally as loud, • Which is hard when you’re still catching your breath, • Who needs Oxygen anyway??? • And the little shit has the audacity to, very obviously, send you a wink, • An unmistakable wink, • What sort of out of the world confidence does he have, he was in 2nd place as well, • As much as you’re shook, it makes you a little soft, but no one will leT yOu lIVE, • All slapping your back or ruffling your hair, • The DeFianCe??? • But you go to get a water bottle and who do you run into? • Yeah, Daniel, • “Congrats on gold~” • His soft tone, • wow, • His soft smile, • Wow, • The two if you actually talking? • W o w, • “Hey I’m sorry about earlier, I didn’t mean to put you in the spot and-” • Lmao yeah, maybe you feel bad a lil for dragging him into what may be a nightmare of always being asked about each other, • “No it’s okay, I’ve wanted to talk to you for a long time, I meant it when I said you where cute,” • Wow you’re a goner for this rookie, • “So did I,” • Wow smooth, not awkward at all,

• “I like the paint by the way, but it makes you a little scary when you’re not smiling,” • Lmao the idea was for you and the squad to look scary and badass especially for the broadcast, • Little do the fans know the next Comeback has a fierce concept, • Lmao playing with fans wow that’s always fun 🙃🙃🙃 • “Here,” • You bring your face paint tub out and hold it up for him, raising an eye brow in question, • He laughs and nods goofily, to which you crack the paint out,

• You run a finger from his forehead down to his jawline in neat straight lines doing down, his skin soft and warm, the look when he closes his eyes so innocent and pure, • Get you a soft man,

• It makes your hand tingle and you’re heart race at the close proximity, standing on your tiptoes and resting a hand on his shoulder for support, • It’s only when you’ve finished do you realise his is now pretty much identical to yours, • WhoOps ACcIDenTS HaPPEn, • But he still looks damn cute, • And you know a fancam of this will be all over the internet later, • Hey; you may even share it on a private account who can say????? • And wow if you don’t continue to spend the rest of the ISAC’s together, taking stupid pictures with people and giving the internet a heart attack, • By the end of the day it seems almost all idols have some sort of facepaint? • A star or a couple of lines of just a smudge done by a member of their group, • A trend starter? • But you’re all leaving the arena with the SqUAD, • But then a hand gently takes your wrist and Daniel leads you to the side of the corridor with your group mates sending teasing smirks over the shoulder to you, • With a shy smile he holds out a piece of paper folded neatly and you can see the outline of numbers written on it, • You laugh lightly, taking the paper and carefully tucking it into your pocket, • “Text me when you get home?” • You nod, knowing you’ll spend too long deciding whether to say 'heya’ or 'hi’ and then make a split second decision and put something else entirely, • And Daniel is just way too cute for you to take, • He makes a move to leave, eyes hovering over you, before slowly leaning over and gently placing his lips on your forehead, ever so sweet, before nodding, smiling quickly and sliding away

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okimargarvez · 7 years ago

Text

S. VALENTINE IN RED (BLOOD)

Original title: San Valentino in rosso (sangue)

Prompt: crime case, anonymous courtesy, one night deleted.

Warning: none.

Genre: romantic, angst, friendship.

Characters: Penelope Garcia, Luke Alvez, BAU team, Roxy.

Pairing: Garvez.

Note: oneshot.

Legend: 💑💏😘😈🔦🐶

Song mentioned: none.

A serial killer who kills only once a year: in the period preceding and following Valentine’s Day. His victims are apparently random, they don’t have in common neither gender nor ethnicity, or age, or social class. But the BAU team is forced to speed up the investigation, when their computer technician is in danger of becoming next victim.

MY OTHER GARVEZ STORIES

S. VALENTINE IN RED (BLOOD) 02/14/16

-And those flowers? - the dark man scrutinizes the colorful bunch of carefully placed on the desk of computer technician. The latter glares at him, asking him telepathically probably the reason for his sudden entrance. He had never entered in before. In nearly six months. The thing is quite strange.

-What is it, Alvez, do you think I bought them myself?- her tone is ironic with different bad shades, as always when she talking with him, apart from rarely if the subject of their conversation is Roxy. Yet that draws him far more than if she behaves like with all the others, even with Stephen, the very latest member who was joined their team, with whom she has been since the beginning sweet, cute and loving. Exactly the opposite to him: after all he has committed a serious infringement: he had taken the place of Agent Morgan.

-No.- he answers only. As hard as her is a weird, eccentric person, especially in the way she dresses up her hideout and herself, from what he can see (he doesn’t lose the opportunity to carefully scrutinize every detail of the room, all the pictures - damn, how many photos of her with Derek, them hugging… - cuddly puppets, colored pens), he can’t imagine her buying flowers for herself. She maintains a fixed her gaze in that of man. Always with the same defiance in her eyes, but what’s really at stake? He has some ideas, one, to be sure, but not the courage to express it. But something shines through her manner however: the lips that fold into mischievous way, arched eyebrows, smarting eyes and brighter than usual.

-So, what do you want? - how strong is the urge to take off that grimace of her mouth, once and for all? Enough to fall? Or surrender?

-Anything. But Emily told me that we must work together.- he announced casually, as if he didn’t care the task given by their leader. He really isn’t able to mask the entire satisfaction that he feels, telling her that she’ll forced to endure his presence for many more hours than what she thinks; that she had to got to get over it, seek to cooperate with him. Alone. The woman snorts, whirling around, turning to one of the numerous screens scattered around her bunker and sitting at her desk. Her blond hair flutter wrapping her face. He doesn’t hold a slight chuckle and after a moment’s pause, he approaches her slowly, bending and staying a few centimeters from her neck. For a moment in his mind pass very different images, from those of the case that they should studied.

-I am perfectly able to do my part alone.- she says, her voice firm and precise, not even turning and trying to pretend she doesn’t care the concrete fact that the damn breath of him, warm and… (no!) is brushing her bare and vulnerable skin. She doesn’t know if the man has noticed it, but soon his face is almost up to her shoulder and she can’t help but experience a feeling of deja-vu quite particular, because the male subject isn’t the same of her memories. And this is precisely the problem. She feels the weight of his eyes and embarrassment that tries to make red her cheeks. But she’ll never give this satisfaction to him. But he doesn’t stop to staring her and if she thought good for a moment about it, she would come to the right conclusion. Three coincidences are a proof. And she would have far more to explore.

-I’m sorry, Emily said that we can’t stay alone and you have to get over it, she had entrusted you to me.- he makes a significant pause. She hates when he does that. And then, the choice of terms. Entrusted, as if I were a… No, what Alvez intends is quite different, as if she really need a protection… -You have to learn to be more professional.- isn’t the first time that he gives her a scolding this kind. Once he dared to say that she should be nicer (but in his head, he thought cute) with him. I, the Queen of nice! And he had the gall to respond, Maybe like … the Queen of ice. And perhaps the heart of the matter was that the beautiful dark man wanted to be able to make melted her… in more ways than one.

-Okay, Newbie.- she strongly highlights her favorite nickname for him. -There are papers.- she shows him a huge pile that nearly submerge whole table. -We must digitize each document.- she makes even a break, allowing herself to turn her head toward his. Now they are at the same height. She approaches a bit. A little too much. she seems to see his pupils dilate, but… -Enjoy yourselves.- and she returns to take care of her computer.

Luke passes the next three minutes mentally relive the last scene. What the hell she had wanted to do? Only provoke him, or was there more? Maybe she… knew? And what it was there to know? Here was the real question. So, it’s better if he focuses his resources on those files. And so, he begins with finding a chair, bringing it closer to that of her (but not too much, keep a safe distance) and dictate her those information’s, which turn quickly in brilliantly data from the action of darting and quick fingers of the bespectacled blonde. She is so fast also in other situations? he can’t help but wonder, then he thanks everyone who has made sure that the thoughts remain as such, stored in personal storage and inaudible from other external.

-What’s the matter with you, Alvez? You saw a ghost?- he realizes that he was holding clutching a paper from a long time. She is peering him too carefully. He must recover immediately.

-I was… I was just thinking that today is Valentine’s day.- he shoots the first bullshit that crosses his mind. She doesn’t seem very convinced, but she flies over.

-Uh uh.- she emits verses in television sitcom style -Don’t tell me that Roxy has a rival.- is her convoluted way in order to extract information without him clearly understand that she is interested to know if he is engaged, without her knowing. And maybe something more, but we overlook. This is what the dark man hoped, but not betting on it too many chips. He shakes his head. He is unable to say more, because it would sound something like Actually yes, she is here in front of me. What the hell is this thought? Concentrate on this damn case! But there’s nothing to do. Isn’t destiny that today is a fruitful day.

-It’s eight o'clock at night…- Garcia looks up to a rose clock kitten-shaped, with its tail beating the passing of every second. But he observes the way in which some tufts of her hair fall on the neck, until the neckline. But he can divert his attention before the computer technician being aware of it.

-Well, you can go home, I still have to settle a thing.- after a moment, she understands that he has no intention to carry out her order. -I don’t need a damn bodyguard!- she says, placing angrily already digitized documents in a special folder. Luke asks himself the real reason behind this sudden anger that seems to have possessed her. Even he seems to see a reflection in her dark eyes and some crystals on her eyelashes, as if she had been crying…

-It is useless to try to fool me, Garcia. We can’t be alone until the unsub shall have been catch.- and this thing doesn’t dislike him at all. But he lets her guess this only minimally. Almost there was a game going on, between them, an endless game, destined to remain without a winner. Not at least until neither of them will make a really bold move first. Not until neither of them won’t be willing to reveal his cards.

-But imagine if, with lean JJ blonde with blue eyes, Emily brunette and slender, Tara and her shades of amber… the crazy on duty would kidnaps me! - and how many things can be in a word produced by a single syllable, two only letters? A whole world, immense suffering, an unknown past (but not too). Garcia isn’t unable to restrain herself. She wouldn’t certainly have wanted to make it clear to the agent with whom she has less relation in entire team, that she not considered herself aesthetically worthy of being the victim of a serial killer.

-Except for the fact that they will not stand alone- ugly truth, this (JJ has Will and her sons, Tara her father and her brother, Emily has Mark and Sergio) -what would you mean?- but looking at those so damned dark eyes, in those depths in which she wants so desperately to get lost and not think about the consequences (at least for one fucking time), she realizes that he knows, what, how serious is, no, she doesn’t want to think about it. But he understood everything, or better he understood too much, and the blonde is not able to deal with the repercussions of this.

-What you think- she crosses her arms, defensive -and you not have the courage to say.- now his black eyebrows are raised surprised and concerned. But it’s just her head. It’s not real. -What I’m not beautiful enough to receive flowers from a stranger, nor chocolates… therefore why with all the beautiful women available in the BAU, someone should kidnap me?- and this time there is no trace of irony in her tone, or angry, if not towards herself. They dominate the sadness, sorrow towards what she feels like an absolute truth and impossible to change. -In the movie, those like me are killed only if they are unable to mind their own business.- but she reads too much understanding into those spheres open to scrutinize her. Too much to bear. If it was any other day, but it’s that day. She goes back in many years, when her hair, tied in pigtails, came up to the knees of Luke. When she was really happy, and she hadn’t to strain every day to believe it. She is a positive person. But there is difference between hoping and believe it seriously. One difference platonic, that only those who know the Iperuranio may really understand. Damned philosopher’s exam…

When tears begin to fall, she leaves free the documents, preventing them from stain and get wet with a part of her DNA. While the salty drops continue their path down her face up to clothes, she curses herself for being so weak, so foolish as to start crying right in front of him. She would have so much need of the man who replaced him. He doesn’t tease her. He would hug her, and everything seems better. Bearable. Better than nothing. But unfortunately, when she lifts her eyes in front of her there is always the ex-ranger, tall, dark and bland-some, and terribly sexy, even when he pretending to be concerned about her. If only he hadn’t occupied just that place. If only he hadn’t joined the BAU. If only she hadn’t been so… not his kind of woman. What the hell are these thoughts? She doesn’t like him, dammit, Luke Alvez. She can’t stand him. Every time she tries to take the elevator and believes she can enjoy a minute to herself, he appears behind her and he starts doing questions about her Canadian boyfriend. And then, wretched Emily, although I love you the same, she must stand him indefinitely. Why she had to put him with her? They could all camp out in their offices. But others have their lives outside of here: moms that need help, husbands and sons, boyfriends, ex-wives not too ex… You’re damn alone. And he is no less. Although he has at least a very cute dog waiting for him every night. And heck, how difficult it is to strive to appear unpleasant when there Roxy around.

From the corner of eye, despite hers are grew cloudy, worse than if there was fog on the highway, she captures a movement. The man is always there that stares at her, but now he is really extremely too close. An alarm continues to reverberate in her head.

-Penelope…- finally it’s what comes out of his lips, so stretched out toward hers, colored. She decides to completely ignore the tone of gentleness and understanding in his voice and focus on whatever he may have done wrong.

-Don’t call me Penelope. You’re not…- but this time Luke hasn’t going to wait, to grant her time.

-I’m not..?- and the distance is still reducing. She can’t argue anything. -Derek Morgan?- still no response or sign of life. -It’s his what you meant, or not?- any signs of tenderness disappear from his expression. In its place predominates again that look of defiance that she’ll never caught. -Exactly, I’m not. I’m your partner in this case, and because you don’t…- a moment before he had earned some points and less than a thousandth of a second later, he has already ruined it.

-I don’t have…?- the tears have dried on her eyelashes. The tap is finally closed. Her cheeks are red with anger that has again conquered her heart. -I haven’t anyone?- but it sounds more like an affirmation than one rhetorical question. -JJ has Will, Emily has Mark, Tara her father and brother, Spencer his mother, Stephen his family, Rossi his ex… and I have no one and that’s why I am forced to spend Valentine’s Day with you.- it was not exactly what she wanted to say. It could easily be misinterpreted. -Why I shouldn’t cry?- she stands up and deletes the last traces wet with a sleeves, giving him shoulders, not having the courage to hear his answer, if never will be there. But a sudden grip on her arm forces her to look back at him and in a second their equally dark eyes chained each other.

-I have never said that you shouldn’t cry…- he says so gently that this time even Penelope isn’t able to argue with some pungent phrase, fired at random (but not too).

-Please, don’t try to seems sweet.- she says after a few minutes that remain silent, simply either of them ever distract the eye from the other. -I’ll come home with you, I give up.- she raises her hands imitating the gesture of surrender. And for the second time in a few hours, in his mind pass very different pictures of how he would spend Valentine’s Day with her, if he could. -But I don’t want fake sentimentality.- she is quick to argue before turning off the computer, put on hers jacket (which can’t quite mask her exuberant forms), grab the bag and walk out of her bat-cave, followed by Luke. He raises his eyes to heaven, asking for divine help to survive the evening.

The elevator ride has never been so long. Those few seconds seem immense. Neither speaks. Luke looks at her only in passing, as to make sure that she is true. She doesn’t notice it, intently staring at her shoes. They come to his car in silence. Before he has the time to open the door, Penelope is already seated. Not because she feels at home, but just to prevent him to do some act that could put her even more embarrassed. Neither has the courage to break the ice. Luke thinks of a million ways to start a conversation, but he discards them one after another. Because in the end, the only thing he would like to ask her, is the reason why just a moment ago, she burst into tears. Not only because she doesn’t consider herself suitable to the kidnapping. He is sure. There’s more to this.

Eventually, however, they stop before in front of a house of modest size. But too big for one single person. And this time the blonde can’t prevent that her coworker opens the door to her. But he stays in the doorway, when she gives him a sharp look before disappearing behind the door of her own home. She didn’t intend to share with him this part of her life. She always tried to keep it separate from work, although ten years ago she was being unable to avoid it. After just five minutes she resurfaces with a small suitcase with wheels. She looks up and immediately Luke’s eyes capture hers. Apparently, she doesn’t seem to have moved since she had left him there. He notices the way she looks at him and he understand what she is thinking.

-It’s all worked out.- she justifies herself with a shrug. The man is going to grab it out of her hands, but she avoids him, fleeing toward the car. Left alone he raises his eyes to heaven (for the umpteenth time and probably certainly not the last) before reaching her. It will be a long night, much longer than he could believe. Because when they get closer to his home, where Roxy is awaiting (unaware of the surprise that awaits her), he can’t help but imagine what he would it was going to happen with her. It’s hard to concentrate on driving, having her so close. And when they ’ll behind those walls…

He opens the door and lets her go first; in doing so their bodies brush slightly, by transmitting tremors each other, although both do ignore it. But he is less able to her to play ignorant, and at that exact moment he would reach out his arms and holds her so that the contact between them endure some more. Her perfume, her skin … enough!

The hand automatically finds the switch. Roxy is in crisis because she doesn’t know whether to greet prior the guest or her master; eventually she opts for “attacking” both simultaneously. And in doing so she forces them to stay closer. After another awkward moment, she unexpectedly speaks first.

-Show me where I’ll sleep, so tomorrow morning we’ll be able to get up early and maybe then this story will be ended.- but he takes his time, indeed. He approaches her of a few centimeters to the passing of every minute. And she didn’t move away, but she not even goes meet him. She stays still, as in shock. The last time a man looked at her that way and who behaved in a similar way, she found herself with a bullet near the heart. But he isn’t like Battle. Even if she knows him too little to be able to judge him. But he is a federal, he doesn’t want to kill her. But… why he keeps getting closer and closer? He wants to make fun of her, is the only solution. Or loneliness is playing some sort of a trick with his mind and rather than spend Valentine’s Day alone, he is willing to pretend to be interested in her. In any case, when now only two air centimeters separates their faces, fortunately Luke stops. But his hands come to life and wrapping around her face, caressing her cheeks with both thumbs.

-What… what…- for a moment she isn’t able to ask the question. -What are you doing?- his gaze seems so sweet, as when he talks about his dog. It’s been too long since a man touched her seriously. She is too vulnerable. But she can’t give up at this point. She still has a dignity. And then… she turns red at the thought of showing naked before his eyes.

-Just something I wanted to do for a long time…- he whispers, not leaving the grip, while on his full lips is painted a smile devoid of any kind of irony. Still he can’t believe this is happening. He hadn’t decided a priori that as soon as they were safe within his walls, he would make his move. However, when there was that brief contact, he realized he couldn’t continue to reject the desire the whole evening. This was the opportunity he had been waiting for a while. When he would have another chance to have Garcia to his house? -I desire you terribly… I’ll not pretend it’s not so…- he immediately captures the expression of surprise which appears on her face. -If I were a unsub, crazy and dangerous, I’d kidnap you without thinking twice.- he whispers with a sexy tone that beats any Fifty (but even Hundred) Shades of Gray, Red, Black… is the most strange and absurd compliment that she have ever receive. She can’t help but chuckle, though nervously. -I’m serious, Penelope.- her name… how it sounds on those lips… it is useless that she still to deny. She wants him, she wants him in a way so tragic and intense, to hate herself. She needs him, without knowing why. And then his fingers slipping toward her mouth, touching her lips, opening her mouth, and finally he starts to lean in his direction, making her feel all their height difference. When their mouths come into contact, everything that happened before this moment seems to fade. She doesn’t want to think about the fact that tomorrow morning, definitely, she’ll be in the throes of remorse and repentance. At least for one evening, she wants to live what will happen and nothing else. While the tongues are intertwined, conducting various dances, in the numerous minimum pause for breath, she feels so beautiful, so desired… After a few minutes his hands going to remove her jacket, without letting her, as she had watch only in the movie and this excites her more than she would like. Each button causes her a gasp. Taking courage even her fingers, colored with rainbow colors, getting under his shirt, unbuttoning it and finally meet the skin under it, run through the muscles in length and breadth. She can’t help but smile when she hears him moan with pleasure. -Penelope…- her jacket falls to the ground. The big hands of the man linger a moment, remaining on the ribs, causing her various chills. She has to give him the green light, so he finally can reach her breasts and losing his mind simultaneously. And when he realizes that he can’t really resist more, that his jeans are really too tight… he leads her into his room (where no other woman has ever set foot), making her walk backwards. He takes off her shirt, her skirt, then he is stopped from her hands and her agitated tone.

-We could… turn off the light?- she doesn’t want him to see her how she truly is, without make-up and accessories, out of her role as BAU’s omniscient genius. Without those things, she doesn’t think she can be attractive. And Luke didn’t take long to figure it out. He stares her intently, still stroking her cheek once.

-You don’t need anything else, apart from your soul, to shine before my eyes.- and after a statement like that, even the fears of Garcia falter, enough that allowed him to complete his work.

And before they become one, he looks long at her, with a mix of desire and tenderness, as if to make her understand that yes, he wants her in that sense, but there’s more behind and when he have will the courage to peer into his soul, he’ll prove it. And in that instant, she believes him.

Lying beneath his muscular body and dripping sweat, she still can’t be convinced that it really happened. Sure, she was out of practice, but he’s been… monstrous. Luke remains in this position for a while, raised his body with the arms to avoid crushing her. It was far more than what he could expected, though never before he had dared to imagine how it could be. Yet, though she seems satisfied, remains a shadow that floating on her face, trying to obscure that moment.

-What you’re thinking, chica?- a lifetime had gone by since the last time he had used that nickname for her. She hadn’t realized how much she missed until she hadn’t heard it again. There was a something personal and possessive, in that nickname in Spanish.

-That it was excellent sex, but in a few hours, my crumpled dress will be the only tangible trace of it.- he didn’t expect she would give him an answer so blunt. He is glad she told him the truth, but at the same time he didn’t like her choice of terms, to define their… Close encounter. But, thinking about it, in fact, she’s right.

-This depends on us…- he replies, without yet being able to expose himself. Penelope looks at him strangely. -If you wanted to…- he strives to take courage -…I could show you the difference between having sex and making love…- at this point the blonde pushes abruptly away him and trying to get dressed. When he tries to stop her, she begins to scream.

-Don’t try to make me believe that suddenly you’re in love with me or other silly stories like in C-movie. It’s Valentine’s Day, we found ourselves forced in this situation, I don’t… for a while, and because of the impetuousness that you have shown, I guess you too. Two frustrations have led to a few moments of satisfaction. Now we don’t have to build on this a Disney tale.- the worst is that she really seems to believe in what she says with bitterness and sadness, gradually lowering the pitch up to a kind of resignation.

-Even if I told you, you would think that is a lie, right?- she nods firmly. -So, let me try to use another kind of “speech”. If you were to have right, you just would have to making “good sex” like you insist on defining it…- and if she decides to surrender, it’s mainly because she wants to get to understand why the hell, he still wants to fool her with this story of “there is more than rubbing under the sheets”.

The next morning, they don’t get up at six, like Penelope had expected, but much later, exhausted from the second and third round. In the end he had reason; making love was something else; yet she still didn’t believe him at all, she couldn’t let go herself and risks, yet she was very close to do it. Already the first cracks in her armor of ice were visible without the aid of a microscope. Luke had understood, especially when he had awakened in the middle of the night and he had found her, resting on his chest, her face innocence of a child. But he wasn’t going to push too hard on the accelerator, he would have given her time, now that he had made a significant first step. The street to convince her that he was really interested in her as a person (not just physically), it was still very difficult and tortuous.

Yet only hours after he finds himself again back to square one.

-Where are you?- random question doesn’t seem to have any immediate effect. -Garcia?- she finally turns to him and seems to sense his presence. But she isn’t going to say anything. How she can? She has now admitted herself to be attracted to him, but what happened last night was just a lucky… case, a convergence of situations, definitely not something that will be repeated in the future. With the idea of being forced to spend the evening together, because there was a serial killer on the loose, the distorted thinking that she could become one of the victims… this must somehow have him excited, driven him to do what he did. But it was only a moment, a way to stress that they were still alive, that everything was still possible. But she couldn’t tell him, because she wouldn’t have been able to mask the fact that for her, their meeting wasn’t just sex. -Hey, it’s almost time to go to work. Criminals don’t wait!- he tries a joke that not obtain any reaction in woman. Now he really starts to worry. But when at last their eyes meet, everything becomes terribly clear. -Yet. Tell me I’m wrong, Penelope.- while he talking his tone increases the intensity. -Tell me that you aren’t again convinced that yesterday I was just… caught with the situation.- but she doesn’t respond, and a slight furrow starts to dig between them.

02/13/17

A year after that groove has become a chasm. They continued to work together, as if nothing had happened; a few months after, they start again to exchange jokes in the presence of others; but unlike previous times, there was much more behind, than some expressions two-way. It was as if each blamed the other for what had happened between them. Because in the meantime, the feelings that were unripe, have developed, settling in their souls. And taking with this resentment and regret.

The killer of roses, as the press had dubbed the unsub, which kills during the period close to Valentine’s Day and for the rest of the year will become off the grid, was still active. On February 15 the previous year Penelope and Luke had been welcomed by the dark looks of their colleagues. The name of another woman that night had been added to an already too long list. But she hadn’t been a total stranger. She was a childhood friend of Emily. The chief of the BAU had decided that there wouldn’t be another. And she was prepared to keep this promise at any cost.

To the point that she pushes JJ to give an interview, where she threw a challenge to the killer. And someone didn’t like it.

Garcia winces when she hears someone reach her behind shoulders. She was re-reading for the umpteenth time the note she had received. Like the others, it was signed cryptically. But today it contained one more particular: he tells her to wait for him the next day in the waiting room that preceded the entrance to the main offices of the heads of various departments of the FBI. She had suspected from the beginning that he was one of them, indeed, she had even hoped that could be Luke… but that wasn’t his style and basically it was better that way. She had to find a way to forget. It had been just a damn night; there had been no promises or exchange of important phrases. So why she hated him so deeply? Why a year had passed, and she couldn’t overcome it?

-Look that, we are just waiting for you…- the man was able to give only a sidelong glance at the narrow cardboard between the long fingers of the technician, remaining a bit too long staring her. But he doesn’t have enough elements to make an educated guess. Although, judging by this perfume… it’s certainly something private and … gallant. And it bothers him, a lot. Especially because before entering into Penelope’s bunker, he lingered a few minutes behind the door, hearing her talk to herself. And in this case, he understood every syllable uttered by her full lips. She believes that the type of the cards, damn if I catch you, you’re dead, is also in charge of the flowers she received during all this week… chocolates… books… everything that I gave her, accompanying each gift with a phrase (engraved on each one and inseparable from it) that I hoped would show her who was the “handler”, the “sender.” But I just made sure that the type of the cards earned more points. And I can’t even say anything, because that is going to make me look like an idiot.

-Luke? Now you’re the one lost on moon.- she chuckles slightly. She adores make fun of him and she doesn’t do anything to hide it. When he lifts his head, as always, their eyes chain up, and in those brief moments they confess million secrets, and, as Bukowski said, they make love with eyes. It’s weird how easy it’s to forget that he knows everything, that he has seen her naked in every possible way implied from the term. It’s absurd how easy it’s to continue this farce rather than admit they were wrong.

-Someone has perhaps a secret admirer?- he dares to ask, carefully watching how she arranged the different flowers (why you not go to do a damn search on the internet on their precise meaning?) and as one of the books he gave her, is open in the middle on the table. The blonde raises her eyes, annoyed (because he has no right to ask her about her private life) and yet flattered by his jealousy (because this could mean that perhaps he still feels a little something for her).

-If it was, it’s not your business.- he comes dangerously close, as he had hardly done in recent months. Because kissing her wouldn’t lead to any result, except to meet again in the horizontal position. And once it wasn’t enough, in fact, it has done more harm than good. -I know you think I can’t be worthy of receiving attention from a man, but you’re not always right.- she says it not because she believes seriously (the past year is at least served to find more self-confidence and begin to truly love herself, with or without glitter), but because she wants to force him to contradict her. With the corner of eye, she sees his hands tight a fist, the veins of his muscular arms stand out along with the muscles tense. He bends a little toward her, and, as it happens during accidents, she doesn’t seem to be able to move around and avoid catastrophe.

-I never said you didn’t deserve male attentions, but who or what tells you it’s a boy? Do you know him? You did identified him in some way?- he tries to try to make her understand that, notes aside, the man who has rekindled her smile these days, through various surprises that would show how much he had learned to know her seriously, was none other than the one she had in front of her. But Garcia doesn’t notice the love that he gives her. She just thinks that he demonstrates a kind of very childish jealousy, as if he doesn’t really want her, but at the same time he wishes that no one else feels something for her. She finally able to reactivate circulation of her blood and takes a step, leaving the door ajar. But Luke stops her before she can get out of it completely, grabbing her arm.

-Leave me! Did not you say the team was only waiting for me to expose the case? And then, let’s go. The others will be wondering if we weren’t sucked into a black hole.- but he isn’t going to do the right thing, or at least the most rational, reaching their colleagues and taking care of their work, another day pretending it’s nothing. He lets her go, but he turns towards the flowers, books and anything else that was donated by the “mysterious admirer.” She observes him in shock, unable to understand what the hell he’s doing.

-You might not be able to understand it?- he makes them all fall down in front of her. His dark eyes seem like coated with a thin veil. Might be tears, but it looks little likely. -May. You had tell JJ you liked science fiction novels of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, even more than the well known masterpieces of Sherlock Holmes.- shock increases more and more in Garcia, as she listening to him talk, associating something she said, maybe in passing, during the last year, each of the objects that she has received this week next to Valentine’s Day. -When you were a kid your favorite color was purple and you dreamed of having a horse.- also the puppet go to reach the pile at the foot of the blonde. When he silent, she remains for a moment to stare him, unable to pronounce the truth in a loud voice: it was him. Luke Alvez knew her better than herself. But… why?

-But… but… those notes… those words… why you didn’t write something that would make me realize that you were behind this?- the Latin sighs, frustrated.

-I never sent you any note.- a shiver runs through the body of the computer technician. Not for pleasure, but of sheer terror.

-So… who did write this?- just then the door opens and Rossi appears, the worried look that turns quickly in surprised and confused to see them like that, all those objects and flowers on the floor.

-Luke, Penelope, we were about to send out the search team…- no one laughs at his joke. -What the hell happened here inside?- it doesn’t take a profiler to note that both are blushing and launch murderous glances at each other. -Where’d this come from?- before he can make time to talk, the man is preceded by Garcia.

-I have a secret admirer. I was arranging this mess, when Luke came to warn me that the meeting was about to begin, and… we clashed. He was giving me a hand to collect everything.- the explanation given is credible enough, but Dave feels that doesn’t properly correspond to the truth. Before entering he felt them shouting each other and neither of them was bent or it was going to resetting… But he decides to overlook. They have already lost too much time. The blonde throws a sharp look at Luke, who wonders why she wanted to cover him, and if he has to positively interpret this attitude or rather the exact opposite. At the end he gives up and follows the other two down the hall to the meeting room. He tries to ignore it, but it’s impossible not to notice the mischievous look of JJ, the confusion of Reid, doubts painted on the faces of the rest of the agents.

Emily rolls her eyes and finally begins to expose the case that everyone knows very well -The last victim was Sasha Ivanova . And I emphasize “last.” As I said a year ago, there haven’t to be others. We have to catch the unsub. We have had more than ten years to take him, he was being free to do what he wanted. It’s time somebody ruins his plans.- anger in her eyes is evident and it’s also transmitted in the way she holding the remote control. -But I have not called you here to reiterate the obvious. There is news.- Luke subconsciously search for Penelope’s eyes and her hand (but not implement his own thoughts). -Chicago police found some interesting details…. Each of the victims under their jurisdiction had received “gifts” from a secret admirer, in the week before the murder.- after the last sentence also Rossi stares Garcia, who looks toward her shoes, hoping to disappear.

-But especially, they found some notes. The hand that had written them is the same in all cases.- now Agent Alvez feels really fear, fear for this woman, so damn stubborn that she would be willing to get kidnapped in order not to let people know that he is the author of the gifts she has received… but not the notes. And she is willing to risk, in order to prove that she has reason: she isn’t a type that someone might abducting, consequently she runs no risk.

-Garcia, can we talk for a moment face-to-face?- the woman takes a second too long to get up. Luke would follow them, but he doesn’t know what excuse to adopt. -All those gifts that I saw in your room… there were some notes to accompany them?- she doesn’t know what to say. Betraying Luke? Or rather betray herself, because what David will think, when he’ll know that she lied about something like that?

Left in the meeting room, Luke can’t concentrate on what his colleagues are saying. Conversations come to his brain as muted, as if he had cotton in his ears or was in a soap bubble. He can’t think of anything other than what they are saying? And the answer comes soon enough. The oldest agent returns alone. Things get worse than he expected.

-What’s going on, Dave?- Emily finally gives voice to what everyone is wondering.

-Penelope received very similar gifts to those you have just described a moment ago.- everyone except Luke, open their astonished eyes. -And even the famous notes. No need for a graphologist for sentencing that were written by the same person.- JJ launches a desperate look toward Reid.

-What? Why she doesn’t told us about it? And where is she?- the young genius puts his arm around the blonde, now in tears. Tara stays more composed, but she is equally worried.

-She is in my office. Valentine’s Day is tomorrow, and we don’t know when the unsub will hit. Just finished here, I’ll accompany her in the secret areas of the FBI for Witness Protection.- the ex-ranger immediately guess the future: he not see her again for who knows how long, if not forever. It’s not an acceptable perspective. But even the idea that she can seriously become the next victim of the killer of roses. If only she would leave herself to protect by me! He has before him an important choice: are more important his own selfish needs or the safety of the computer technician?

-We can’t even greet her?- no one could answer negatively the desperate request of the blonde of the FBI. The oldest in the room nods his head and everybody make their way to his office. Luke last, lost in his thought. I can’t let her go. I can’t lose her. Rossi knocks with two shots, then he pauses, and he knocks other three times. The door opens, and Penelope appears that tries to hold back tears, with poor results. The impulse to rush to comfort her is strong, more than any other he has had at this year’s “separation” and abstinence, to kiss her or hold her so their bodies again converging. But yet he resists, with the last of patience grains he’s got. In the room they are eight of them, but, as one of the classic cliché, it’s just them in there. Their eyes are fixed, inseparable, they are seemingly oblivious to what is happening around; they carry on one conversation parallel to the verbal one. She is pleading him not to do what he thinks, and he, in turn, he’s apologizing because he can’t perform what she asks.

-Penelope… Why didn’t you tell us anything?- the women of the team surround their friend, partially interrupting the visual contact between the two. It’s the leader who speaks, while JJ strives not to cry in turn. She thinks of the day that saved her life, shooting point-blank at her attempted assassin. You do whatever it takes to protect your family.

-I… I didn’t think it had to do with the case. I was seeing one of the security officers of the first-floor and… I thought he was just very shy. - Luke feels a sharp pain in his chest at this revelation. But she is saying the truth, or it’s just a way to escape from him?

-No, not again. This time I’ll not allow to happen what happened with Battle.- the brunette says resolutely. Now Tara, Stephen, not to mention the agent Alvez, are even more confused. Meanwhile, the self-control of the latter is going more and more going to hell. -A policeman with murderess hero syndrome…- Prentiss begins to explain, but she is blocked by their own victim-subject of the story.

-I know that you will do everything to stop it.- she glances her very clear. Don’t speak of this matter. She doesn’t want him to know. She doesn’t want he knows this part of her life, this is connecting directly to a person and a series of misunderstandings that led where she is now. It doesn’t matter that for this man (damned the day when Hotch asked him to work with the BAU!) she now feels a much stronger feeling of confusion than a year earlier.

-I hate having to be a spoilsport, but… we have to go.- Rossi changes the subject. Luke observes Penelope, the woman for whom he feels more than he wanted (because this has greatly complicated his life) taking her own bag. He decided that this time he’ll not let her go away, like that day nearly a year ago.

-Wait! I have something to say.- everyone turns toward him. Garcia silently shouts him to stop. We can go on like this. We can pretend that nothing happened. Only you and me, know that. -I’m sorry. I gave her those things. Not the unsub. Except for the notes.- he adds bitterly. He explicitly turns to her and everyone understand the implications at stake. JJ wonders how it’s possible that she not noticed what had happened between her best friend, godmother of her children, and the Newbie. Sure, there were some incidents that had given her to think about, like when he played with the remote control in the meeting room and he had taken time considerable to pass it at her. Not to mention the countless times she had caught him staring at her. Yet she didn’t connect the dots. What stupid! -I’m sorry, Penelope. I know you didn’t want others to know, but I can’t allow you to finish in the witness protection program and disappear forever… just because I’m unable to deal with the complexity of the feelings that you arouses in me.- behold, he had said this. Now there’s no going back. Now everybody knows, including her. She stares him even more astonished than before, if possible.

-This doesn’t change anything, however.- the pure wisdom of Rossi intrudes, he’s not just able to realize that his kitten has a true lover, willing to do anything for her, even humiliate publicly himself or expose himself to rejection. -The writing matches perfectly, meaning that Garcia is still among the potential victims of the killer of roses.- the dark man nods, but he still seems to have something to say. Also, because all the others are still paralyzed by the news.

-I’m aware that she is still in danger, but… I would like to be able to contribute to her security, if you allow me… I participated in several operations of the witness protection program. I know how it works. And if the killer is clever enough, no protection is enough. I also feel that Garcia was chosen for a reason. Her belonging to the team.- finally someone seems to be able to recover.

-I understand what you want to mean. With this press conference, Prentiss has virtually challenged the unsub. Or in any case, it’s what seemed to him.- Reid asserts, while his face assumes the classic thinker’s poses.

-But then why he hasn’t hooked me up?- the chief asks.

-Because Garcia was … the woman most low-risk.- saying this, he knows he hurts her. But it’s better an ugly truth than a pretty lie, but with little lasting and more harmful effects in the long run. -You, Emily, live with your boyfriend… JJ has a whole family thinking about her, while Tara has returned to live with her father and brother… Penelope is simply the only woman in BAU… lonely.- and adding this, he transmits the idea that it’s her fault. It was mainly her stubbornness and her belief that he can’t absolutely like her, what had truncated any possibility of a serious development between them, a year earlier. And he was too confused at the time of their past, to prevent her from doing that bullshit.

-I’m fear you’re right, Luke.- the Italian admits. -And then, what is your proposal?- if he could say exactly what he thinks! Go to my house, make her a special dinner, talk, talk for hours, explain and ask for explanations. Try to find a way to make her understand how difficult it was this long year, because her coldness has hurt me, how I wanted to hold her, even by force, and only tell her I’m sorry, I’m very confused, but not enough to let you go away. How I wanted to try the feeling of having her lips fused with my own, and the courage to ask her if she, too, at least once, maybe before going to sleep, she felt that loneliness hug her, hold her in a vise that is neither liberating nor consoling. And then try to convince her that I’m able to protect her, I can do it, I’ll always be here, whenever she needs it. That I know her more than she would like, but certainly not as much as I would like. That it wasn’t just sex, even that night. And finally, that I haven’t been here for many years of her life (certainly not my fault); but I’m here now.

-I think that if the unsub discovered that she is no longer alone- not all notice the choice of words, the use of present (although hypothetical) which indicates that what follows this verb corresponds to a fact existing and not an uncertain possibility (what really is, in this case) -he’ll change the target. And though this would mean that another woman would run the risk of being killed… I feel I can be partly selfish, this time.- and the sense of his theory is more readily apparent to all.

-You would pretend to be her boyfriend until we take him?- a break. -We may need days as years. This is no light commitment. Or maybe you want to make a back and forth around the time of Valentine’s Day, doing the exact opposite of many males that not want to buy a gift for their lovers and fulfill the duty imposed on them by the capitalist society we live in?- it seems that talking was Reid instead is Emily the one make fun of him affectionately. For Luke the idea of having to protect her for years has certainly not displayed as a burden. Everything is relative, depending on the perspective from which you look at things. As an old man who breaks a mirror: he’ll be happy to have yet seven years (of trouble).

-According to me, you hope, rather, that continue to pretend, Garcia forget what the truth is and fall into your arms!- JJ also helps to lighten the atmosphere. The idea that another woman could be killed tonight and that they will have to investigate her death, now doesn’t even brush them. Even profilers have the right to a little serenity.

02/15/18

He finds her exactly where he thought: standing in front of the monsters’ wall, that is, every unsub that they had captured over the years, since the unit had opened its doors, long before they worked on it, both she and him, or that they met. He vividly remembered the moment Emily had hung that picture, while she was crying, a prayer to her disappearance friend, she, that didn’t believe or didn’t want to believe in any kind of God. Even the woman at this moment in front of him, she had a giant tight in the throat, that day and although she wasn’t able to consume mourning, allowed him to console her, to lay his hands on her shoulders, to embrace her. And she let him shout at her, not wanting to go along her, this time, while repeating like a mantra, before the image of yet another tragic murdered woman, surrounded by rose buds - It should have been me, there. It should have been me. It was no less blurred in his memory the moment when he had called to tell her -It’s over.- and how they had made love, directly to her office, as soon as he got off the jet, exhausted and alone desiring to sleep indefinitely. And as he found the strength for a second round, but this time there hadn’t been a third. But the next morning she was still there, in his arms, and although she was very embarrassed and awkward, she had not tried to escape. She had preferred to hide her face on his skin, which had finally absorbed those tears for too long withheld (for the year they had lost, because she wasn’t been the victim), she had tried to disappear to merge with him. And then she had re-emerged from the abyss and the other side had found right this man, patient as always, determined as never before.

She feels his presence behind. If even she hadn’t recognized his walk or his scent, she hadn’t need to be a profiler, or put a motion detector in his cellphone, to identify the person who appeared behind her. She not turns to look at him.

-I seems absurd that has passed already almost a year. I realize that it’s a banality that doesn’t suit me, but sometimes it’s as if it happened yesterday, others days seem to me full years passed and much more often… it seems it never ended.- he didn’t say anything. He moves at her side, to look exactly the same direction of the woman. His arm around her shoulders and in that single gesture there are friendship, respect, love, understanding, desire, consolation. -And even more comical, or tragic, depending on how you look at it, it’s that I owe my happiness to a serial killer.- she turns completely to him. It’s not need to replicate anything. It’s like this were a conversation made thousands of times, a ritual. Purifying.

-Let’s go home.-

TAGS: @theshamelessmanatee @itsdawnashlie @talesoffairies @janiedreams88 @kiki-krakatoa @yessenia993 @teyamarra @c00lhandsluke @gcchic @arses21434 @orangesickle @entireoranges @jarmin @kathy5654 @martinab26 @thisonekid @thenibblets @perfectly-penelope @ambrosiaswhispers @maziikeen92 @lovelukealvez @reidskitty13 @jenf42 @gracieeelizabeth27 @silviajajaja @smalliemichelle99 @charchampagne14 @ichooseno @ megs2219 @rkt3357 @franklintrixie @thinitta @chewwy123 @skisun @maba84 @saisnarry @myhollyhanna23 @thenorthernlytes

#garvez #penelope garcia #luke alvez #luke x penelope #penelope x luke #garcia x alvez #alvez x garcia #criminal minds #cm #valentinesday

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dee-vine · 7 years ago

Text

Shutter Speed Ch. 17

Well. Here it is. The final chapter has arrived. Just in time for the midseason premier

I just want to say how thankful I am for all of you for sticking with me on this crazy, slow journey. You have all made my first fic writing experience a great one, so thank you so much. I couldn't have done it without you all!

I am going to miss writing this, but never fear, for I am not done writing! Keep an eye out for my future works (two in progress).

And, just because this story is done, does not mean I am gone. I am always on here so feel free to come chat. I am always open to new friends!

Love you, and thank you, xx Dana

Ch 16 | AO3

Betty never went to her mother’s hotel like she offered. She texted her, saying she had to pick up a shift at work, and that was it. Alice called maybe a week later, just to check in on Betty, and it was a surprisingly civil conversation. Just a simple talk of how Polly and her dad were doing, some news about her hometown, and that’s really it. Nothing about her modeling, or Jughead, or the “vile” city she calls home.

After that phone call, her life went back to normal. She picked up more shifts at work, shopped with Veronica, played video games with Archie, and had two photoshoots with Jughead. One of them, her favorite one, would definitely not get the approval of her mother. They explored the city, finding rustic rooftops and vintage hotel rooms to shoot in, with Betty wearing low-cut, exposing tops and chokers-- all very provocative.

Out of all the photoshoots, that was probably the most fun one. He had her climbing rooftops, in a safe manner, and the outfits that Veronica had chosen for her were absolutely incredible. They had the best time, spending the whole day wandering around, until it was too dark to take pictures.

His article still had not come out, and Betty could not stop impatiently asking him every time she saw him when it would come out.

“Soon,” is all he’d say, changing the topic of conversation right after. After a while she stopped asking so much, and nearly forgot about it until now.

It’s been a month since her mother’s surprise visit, and Betty is working at the coffee shop again, just a normal Friday afternoon. They are just getting through their second rush of the day when she sees Jughead walk in and stand in line. She gives him a small wave as the current customer looks over their bakery items, smiling when he pretends to tip his hat at her.

“Oh, our dearest Romeo hath arrived,” her coworker Kevin says in her ear as the customer finishes paying. Betty wishes them a good day before she smacks his forearm, turning to him.

“Stop it Kev, he’ll hear you,” she reprimands.

“Who will hear what?” Jughead asks, stepping up to the counter. Betty’s face heats up as she turns back to him, pasting a smile on her face as she takes in his appearance. His iconic crown beanie is sitting nicely on his head, and he has his messenger bag slung across his body, probably having come from work himself.

“No one and nothing. Are you having your usual?” Betty asks, already punching it into the system.

“I come here too often I think,” Jughead smiles sheepishly. Betty laughs and shakes her head, accepting his cash.

“It’s always nice when a man knows what he wants,” Kevin says from behind her, throwing a smirk over his shoulder. Jughead laughs quietly, while Betty rolls her eyes.

“I apologize for him, he can’t hold his tongue,” Betty says, turning to Kevin to glare at him with her words. Kevin responds by blowing her a kiss and walking towards the back to the stockroom. Betty turns back to Jughead when he clears his throat, another small smile on his lips. “Sorry, I’ll bring your coffee over to you.”

Jughead goes to sit down at a table by the window, removing his bag from his shoulder and setting it on one chair. She watches for a moment as he sits down, removing his hat and setting it down on the table. She snaps out of it when he glances over at her, busying herself with pouring his coffee in a to-go cup, since he doesn’t expect him to stay long.

She walks over with the cup and places it down on the table, earning an award winning smile from Jughead in return.

“Thanks Betts,” he says, taking a sip and making a small humming noise. “Do you have a moment to sit?”

Betty glances around the shop, having now emptied after the lunch rush. There is no one in line and Kevin is back behind the counter, giving her a knowing look. “I think I can spare a minute or two,” she decides, sitting down across from him.

“Not that busy today, then?” he asks, leaning forward on his forearms.

“A little bit. We just had a rush, but it will probably be slow for the rest of the day,” Betty tells him, leaning back in her seat. “Did you work this morning?”

“Yeah, had some editing to do. Also, that reminds me, I have something for you.” He opens his bag, digging through it before pulling something out and closing the bag. “The magazine is out in stores today, but I got you a special copy from worked. Signed by some big shot photographer they’re featuring.”

He slides a magazine across the table towards her, and Betty is met with the model on the cover. She smiles up at him and starts to open it, but is interrupted by Jughead’s hand atop the magazine.

“Don’t- not now. Read it after work when you have time,” he tells her, retracting his hand. Betty looks up into his eyes and sees a flash of worry in them, making Betty nod slightly.

“Yeah, of course. After work,” she agrees. He hesitates before nodding, leaning back in his chair with his hand firmly around his coffee cup. His leg is bouncing and he looks incredibly nervous, not keep eye contact for long, but Betty doesn’t comment on it. She simply watches as his fingers toy with his discarded hat, telling him about a customer that came in. She watches as he puts the hat on wordlessly, and only pauses her words for a brief moment before continuing.

Eventually, Betty has to get back to work. She bids him farewell, moving a piece of hair out of his eyes, and then goes back behind the counter. She can’t help but glance at him every once in a while as she makes orders.

“You’re staring,” Kevin suddenly says, nudging her in the back and making her jump. She spins around to face him, frowning at the wild grin he’s wearing.

“I wasn’t,” she argues, making Kevin laugh.

“Oh, you were. And now he’s leaving, so you can’t anymore,” Kevin tells her, pointing in Jughead’s direction. When she turns towards him, he’s walking towards the door with his head ducked down, bag slung over his shoulder. He looks up just as he is about to open the door to the shop, looking in Betty’s direction. Their eyes meet, and his lips quirk up in a small smile. He lifts his hand up and waves, Betty waving back as he walks out the door. She lets her hand fall back to the counter, frowning. She can’t help but feel weird at how he was acting-- all nervous and jittery. She wanted to ask, but knew it wasn’t the right time. ‘Maybe later,’ she thinks, already planning out her text in her head.

“Oh, is this loverboy’s feature?” she hears, breaking her thoughts. She turns to find Kevin holding the magazine open in his hands, paging through it. She reaches over and snatches it out of his hands, closing the magazine and setting it on the counter where she had it.

“I’m reading it later,” Betty says. Kevin raises his eyebrows and shrugs, walking over to the counter to stand next to her. “He asked me to.”

“What, is he gonna profess his love for you in it?” Kevin jokes, picking up the magazine again to examine the front cover. Betty can’t help the blush the creeps up her neck, quickly looking away so he doesn’t notice. She doesn’t know why Jughead asked her to wait to read it, but she’s going to be a good friend and follow his orders. She just had to suppress the urge to open it until after her shift.

The rest of the day went by slowly. Not many other customers came in, so Betty and Kevin passed the time doing the daily crossword puzzle and playing a random trivia game he had on his phone. It passed time, and by five o'clock they were ready to shut down.

“Any fun plans tonight?” Kevin asks as he wipes down the tables. Betty looks up from where she’s cleaning the machine, thinking about it for a moment before shaking her head.

“My roommate will probably think of something for us to do. She’s spontaneous like that,” Betty shrugs.

“Well, I for one will be watching reruns of House Hunters and treating myself to a pint of ice cream. So I hope you have more fun than me,” Kevin says, throwing the rag over his shoulder and walking behind the counter. Betty laughs and does one last wipe down before tossing her rag at him.

“I’ll try my best,” she says. “Is everything cleaned up?”

Kevin nods, dropping the rags into the dirty bin, untying his apron and folding it up. Betty does the same, stuffing it in her bag along with the magazine. “Do you wanna lock up or should I?”

“You go ahead,” Kevin tells her. Betty smiles gratefully and slings the bag onto her shoulder, walking out from behind the counter.

“Bye Kev, have a nice weekend, I’ll see you next week!” she says as she walks towards the door with a wave. Kevin waves back, before calling out quickly.

“Let me know how the article is!”

By the time Betty gets home, she’s already exhausted. Working all day is never fun for anyone, but at least she has the entire weekend to recuperate.

Veronica is home when she walks in, sitting on the couch. She happily greets Betty, putting down her book to take her in.

“I love when you come home from work, because you always smell like coffee,” she comments, standing up to give her a hug. Betty laughs when she hears her inhale deeply, pulling out of her embrace to drop her purse onto the sofa.

“I’m there all the time, I’ve surely got coffee seeping into my skin,” Betty answers. When she first started working there, she hated how she always smelled like coffee afterwards. But now Betty has actually started to enjoy it, except today when all she wants to do is shower.

“I think I’m gonna shower, I am so tired,” Betty voices to her roommate. Veronica nods and sits back down, picking up her book again.

“Let’s do something tonight, go out or something,” Veronica says, opening the book up to her bookmark.

“Sounds great,” she nods. “Also, Jughead dropped off his magazine with his feature in it. It’s in my bag if you want to read it.”

Veronica only nods to show she heard her, so Betty walks over to her bathroom, closing the door shut behind her. Her speaker is already in there, so she turns it on and connects her phone, deciding to go all out with this shower. She makes the water somewhere between warm and hot, turns on her relaxing playlist, and gets in.

A hot shower is one of the best things after a long day of work. The heat relieving her tense shoulders, the music and aroma relaxing her even more. It’s a time where there are no stressors or interruptions, and she can be at complete ease-- until Veronica bursts her door open with her shrieking.

Frantic, Betty sticks her head out to see Veronica shaking the magazine wildly. “What? What’s happening?”

“Jughead fucking Jones is happening! Have you read this?” Veronica asks, shaking the magazine in her direction.

“No, he told me to wait until after work. Did he say something bad?” Betty asks, confused.

“Quite the opposite actually! Just listen to this-- sorry, I interrupted your shower. Please keep washing, I’ll just read to you,” Veronica tells her, waving her hand and paging back in the magazine. Betty obeys, closing the curtain and washes out the remaining soap from her hair.

“Okay, so in the beginning it’s just asking about how he started getting into photography and where he got his skill from, blah blah blah. And then the interviewer asks who you are, of course, and he goes ‘her name would be Betty. I met her through a Craigslist ad, and I enjoyed her company so much I stuck with her. Not to mention she’s incredibly photogenic and beautiful and I couldn’t really see myself choosing someone else.’ And then the interviewer agrees, of course, but my god, that’s not even the best part,

“The interviewer comments how provocative the photos are, and asks how that was during the shoots. And Jughead is said to ‘smirk to himself’ before answering, ‘I’d like to consider myself a gentleman. And like I said, Betty is very beautiful. I’m lucky to be able to photograph her.’ Jughead Jones is saying this Betty! Your Jughead!”

By now, Betty has finished washing up and is just standing under the stream of water. She snaps out of it and turns the water off, reaching out to grab her fuzzy robe, putting it on before stepping out of the shower. She walks straight towards Veronica, who is holding the magazine out to her, taking it from her hands to read it herself.

“INT: So, you mention you would like to further your career as a photographer, but as you know it is a tough field to succeed in. What gives that drive, makes you believe that you can do what you want to do?

JJ: (after a moment of contemplation) I never had it easy during my life. I’ve already had to work harder than some to even get into school, so I’m used to not having success. But I met someone recently that has inspired me in more ways than one. They have become my rock, the person that I trust more than anything, which is not easy for me. I’ve seen them go through very difficult things, but always with a smile on their face. Yeah, it’s a competitive world, but as long as I have someone by my side telling me that I can do it, then I know that I can. They have inspired me to follow my dreams, because they never give up on anything they try to do.

INT: You speak very highly of this person, so they must be pretty important.

JJ: Well, I like them very much, and yeah, they are very important to me. It’s important to have that one person that you can go to. It’s what keeps people going, what keeps me going…”

Betty stops reading after that, nearly dropping the magazine. She has tears clouding in her eyes as she looks up at Veronica, who’s smiling softly at her.

“How is he so eloquent?” Betty mumbles, wiping at her eyes. She’s slightly confused about the article, not really sure what to make of it. Veronica, however, looks like she knows something that Betty doesn’t.

“I think we’ll cancel whatever plans we may have had tonight. You go see your boy,” Veronica smiles. With a second thought, glancing down at her, she adds, “After you change, of course.”

Betty just nods, closing the magazine and walking out of the bedroom. Jughead’s words keep playing over and over in her head, paired with visions of his nervousness earlier this morning. She feels like she should know something, but all she can think about is how open he was in the article. She knows Jughead to be a very closed off person, so reading him admitting all these things is a shock.

She gets dressed quickly, leaving her hair down to dry, before she’s walking into the living room to grab her bag. There is a new sense of determination as she stuffs the magazine in there and slings it over her shoulder. Veronica watches her the entire time, and amused expression on her face when Betty finally stops to look at her.

“Want me to come with?” she asks, dropping her book in her lap. Betty simply shakes her head, but smiles slightly. “Okay. Well good luck, I guess. Tell him I say hi and all.”

And with that, she’s out the door. She’s decided that it’s finally time to tell Jughead Jones how she really feels, because it has gone on for long enough. Now is the time.

While Jughead sat at the coffee shop with Betty, he was overcome with a sudden nervousness. She was going to read his interview later, and she was going to see him bare his feelings to the world. And he was terrified.

He played out the scenario in his mind-- how he’d tell her. He prepared an entire speech, but as he walked home from the coffee shop he forgot everything. And then the fear came back.

He has been wanting to tell Betty for nearly two months, but his fear always got the best of him. Fear of rejection, fear of scaring her away, and now fear of losing his chance. What if he waited too long and now he just looks like a fool?

He knows they have this weird, unspoken thing going on between them, but that could very well be the result of being a young adult. For her, at least. For Jughead, it’s real.

So real, that when he comes home he shuts himself away in his bedroom listening to sappy love songs and trying his hardest not to text her or call her. He knows she works all day so wouldn’t even be able to have a conversation, but if he keeps these feelings in any longer he’ll combust.

He spends hours laying on his bed, drowning out any outer noise with his music. He doesn’t hear when Archie comes home and slams some doors. He doesn’t hear when, shortly after that, a knock on the front door sounds. He doesn’t hear Archie open the door and greet whoever it is, or when he says ‘he’s sulking in his room’. He doesn’t hear anything until his bedroom door is swinging open, a wet-haired and wide eyed Betty standing in the doorway.

Scrambling to sit up, Jughead switches off the music and turns to fully look at her. “Betty, you’re here.”

It’s not a question, and Betty just nods, walking into the room. His eyes drift down to her hands, seeing her carrying the exact magazine he gave her this morning. He freezes, looking back up at her face as his shoulders sulk, the fear washing over him again.

“I have questions,” she says, sounding a little breathless. Her face is also flushed, looking like she may have ran here from her apartment. Licking his lips, he nods and pulls the hat further down on his head. “The hat. You wear the hat when you need comfort.”

Again, it’s not a question, but Jughead feels like he’s in an interrogation room all of the sudden. He averts his eyes to the bed, not able to look into hers as he nods slowly.

“You don’t- you can take it off. I want you to take it off,” Betty whispers, and her voice sounds slightly choked up. Jughead hesitates before slowly reaching up to slide the hat off of his head, placing it on the bedside table. Betty lets out a breath of air and walks over to the bed, sitting down on the edge and facing him.

“You said you have questions,” Jughead repeats, looking back up at her. Her eyes search his face for a moment before she nods, placing the magazine on the bed.

“The person you talked about, the one that inspires you... is that-” Betty cuts herself off, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth. He can sense that she’s having trouble getting the words out, so he places his hand on the magazine next to hers, staring at them both.

“It’s you, Betty. I was talking about you,” he tells her. Out of the corner of his eye he sees her head snap up to look at him, but he can’t face her yet.

“Wh- how? How do I inspire you?” she asks, and that finally makes him look up.

“Are you kidding me? Do you know how strong you are?” he asks, and she shakes her head slowly. “Betty, I’ve only known you for a short time, but I’ve never met someone as strong as you. I have seen you battle your anxiety, I’ve seen you stand up to your mom. I’ve seen you grow stronger and more confident everyday that I’ve known you. That’s why you inspire me. Because if you can do all this, anyone can.”

She lets his words sink in, her eyes turning glassy when she meets his. “Juggie, I-”

“I need to tell you something. I’ve been wanting to for a long time and I just, I need to say it now and I need to ask you not to say anything until I’m finished. Is that okay?” Jughead looks at her, looks into her wide, teary eyes. She nods slowly, bringing a hand up to wipe at her eyes. Jughead takes a deep breath and stands up, feeling the need to pace as he talks.

“When I first saw your picture, Archie teased me because I stared at it for so long. I know I said I liked how you answered the questions, but truthfully- you’re beautiful. And I’ve said that, yeah, in the article and all but...you’re so beautiful, Betty. And sometimes I wonder if the gods are playing a trick on me by sending down a literal angel to remind me I’ll be forever alone.” He pauses, breathing out a laugh and shaking his head.

“And then I met you, and I knew I couldn’t lose you. So I tried my hardest not to, by asking you to keep modeling for me. And you said yes. I still wonder why, but you did and I’ve never been happier. And then Archie teased me even more,

“But the more he teased, the more it became reality. You are like- you’re like the moon. You have this gravitational pull, and I am the Earth just wanting to be pulled towards you, but I can’t. Because if the moon and the Earth get too close, there will be tsunamis and earthquakes and just- bad things will happen.” He chances looking up at her, pausing his pacing, but she’s staring down at her feet so he continues.

“So I pulled away. You stayed in your own orbit and I stayed in mine. Then, enter a space rover that makes its home on the moon. And the moon likes this rover a lot, and the Earth is jealous because the Earth wants to be on the moon but can’t because tsunamis. And- fuck, I’m not making any sense now am I.” He doesn’t mean it as a question, because he’s hearing his words in his mind and wants to slap himself for being an idiot.

“Forget the metaphor. What I’m trying to say is...you are my person, Betty. You are the person that I trust more than anything. You’re the person that I want to go to when I accomplish something big. You’re the person I want to bring me up when I’m down, the one I want to spend celebrations with. You’re the one, Betty. And I-” Jughead pauses, his breath catching in his throat when he looks at Betty. She’s looking up at him with tears streaming down her cheeks, but a smile on her lips. He looks into her bright eyes, finally finding the courage to say what he couldn’t before.

“I love you...Betty Cooper,” he finally says. It feels like a weight is lifted off of his shoulders when he says it, like it was dragging him down and now he can fly away.

And then Betty stands up. She still has a smile playing on her lips as she wipes a tear away, walking towards him. He can’t breathe, suddenly, as she stops in front of him, looking up at him with earnest eyes.

“Jughead Jones, I love you,” she says, her face impossibly bright with happiness. Jughead smiles, partially in relief and in happiness. He brings his hand up to caress her jaw, his thumb wiping off a few tears. He’s aware of how close they are, and how they’ve never been this close before. It means something in itself, because now Jughead is free to do what he’s only dreamed of before.

They lean in at the same time, Betty’s hands coming up to caress his face, and when their lips touch its soft. But then Jughead drops his hand to her neck, threading his fingers into her hair and pulling her closer, deepening the kiss. He lied before-- this makes him feel like he is flying away.

He eventually pulls away, a little breathless as he touches their foreheads together. Her tears have now dried, but the smile is still there, wider than ever.

“Will you go on a date with me?” he asks with a grin. Betty laughs slightly, hands dropping down to rest on his chest, her fingers playing with the fabric of his shirt.

“We’ve done this a bit backwards, but yes. I’d really love that,” Betty answers. Jughead’s smile softens, one hand dropping to her waist. He looks into her eyes while he gently strokes her jaw with his thumb.

“Moon of my life,” he whispers, and then he’s kissing her again, because he can’t get enough of it.

They don’t notice when Archie walks past the open doorway, stopping abruptly when he sees them. He watches for a moment, grinning to himself before walking away. He won’t run and tell Veronica, of course he won’t.

Except he totally will.

They tell Veronica and Archie a few weeks later, after classes start.

They are having a movie night at Betty’s, but Jughead arrives late due to a work thing. He walks right in, greeting Archie and Veronica as normal. He disposes of his book bag as Betty emerges from the kitchen holding a bowl of freshly popped popcorn. She smiles when she notices him, and Jughead walks towards her to greet her. He touches his hand to her hip, mumbling a ‘hey babe’ and pressing a quick kiss to her lips. He freezes once he realizes what he’s done, Betty’s eyes wide. He spins around, hoping that maybe Archie and Veronica were too enveloped with each other to notice. But alas, they are staring at him with wide grins, both looking like they’ll burst from happiness.

Jughead clears his throat and takes the bowl from Betty, walking over to the couch and sitting down. They’re still staring when Betty seats herself next to him, completely silent. It’s Jughead that finally breaks the silence, not even facing them.

“We’re dating now. Don’t say anything about it,” he says, like it’s the most casual thing. He should’ve known they wouldn’t listen, of course, because he and Betty are soon both wrapped up in Veronica’s arms, the girl squealing into their ears.

“I knew this day would come and it’s better than I ever imagined!” she squeals. Jughead looks at Betty with a pained look, but she just laughs and takes his hand and hers, mouthing that it will be okay.

And maybe, just maybe, they will be.

#shutter speed #Bughead #bughead fanfiction #bughead fanfic #bughead fic #bughead au #riverdale fanfiction #betty cooper x jughead jones #my work

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shannaraisles · 7 years ago

Text

Dear Friend - Chapter 2

My festive project. A Modern AU heavily based on The Shop Around The Corner, in which Cullen Rutherford finds love between Satinalia and First Day. [Read on AO3]

Chapter Two

Dear Friend,

Nuglet and I were delighted to find presents in the box waiting for us. You did not have to do that, but I must admit, it is a pleasure to have something waiting under the tree that I truly have no idea what might be inside. I hope that our own gift is as satisfying for you as yours are already proving to us, even unopened. Nuglet also insisted on drawing you a picture of our tree, which you will find enclosed. I am informed that the hand sticking out from behind it is as much of me as she can put in the picture without breaking the rules.

Mila unfolded the picture that had been tucked into the envelope, and laughed at the colorful artwork presented to her. Yes, that was definitely a Satinalia tree, and yes, that was also an apparently disembodied hand waving from behind it. She loved the Nuglet's sense of humor; the little girl was cheeky and warm, a good foil for a father who seemed sometimes to be a little too serious. Her eyes fell on the little wrapped gift laying on the table, her own unexpected surprise from the PO Box that morning. She desperately wanted to look inside, but had promised herself she wouldn't until at least midnight on Satinalia Eve. Laying the picture down on the table, she picked up her coffee cup, her eyes returning to the page in front of her.

We are crossing our fingers for you in the hope that you get the promotion you're hoping for. I'm sure you are more than capable of handling the responsibilities of such a position, and your co-worker will recognize it sooner rather than later. If they do not, then they are the fool, not you. I have been recently promoted myself; I do understand the pressures of that period between applying and discovering the answer.

I must admit, however, to a selfish pleasure that comes with knowing you confide in me. Your letters are a joy each time they arrive, not simply for me, but for the Nuglet as well. We were living under a cloud for a long time after my wife's death; I am very pleased to be able to state that your presence in our lives has lifted that cloud somewhat, though it will always be there in some way. Nuglet and I take great pleasure in reading your letters together. She is eager to meet you.

Biting into her toast, Mila grinned as she chewed and read, enjoying the quiet before Josephine, her flatmate, shuffled out of her bedroom and began noisily making her own breakfast. It was a day off for both of them, but Mila was an early riser by habit. Josephine was decidedly not. Still, they had plans to go out and finish the last of their holiday shopping together, and getting into the shops before noon would be nice. But this was nice, starting the day in the quiet and calm, a hot cup of coffee to share with the words of her closest friend.

She couldn't really put into words how important Dear Friend and his Nuglet had been over the last year or more. When she'd arrived in Ferelden, in Denerim, she'd known no one, with no clue as to where anything was or how to get around. Yet some kind person had arranged pen pals within the city for anyone who was new and needed help, and Mila had been paired with an intriguing widower and his ten year old daughter. They'd guided her through learning the transport system, to cafes and restaurants she might like, suggested parks and places of interest she might enjoy visiting. And to her amazement, she had enjoyed all of them. The more they talked in this way, the more comfortable she found herself with her Dear Friend. She'd begun to confide in him, to share her hopes and her worries. He always responded with practical advice, but it was never forceful or ill-meant. The Nuglet sent pictures she drew especially for Mila, and sometimes her careful handwriting joined her father's spiky hand on the pages he sent. Mila talked about her Dear Friend so much, Josephine had finally badgered her into inviting him to meet in the last letter she had sent, and it seemed as though this reply would contain his answer, after all.

On that thought, I should very much like to meet you myself. May I suggest dinner on Satinalia Eve? I had thought perhaps seven o'clock at Felicisima - if you are amenable to this, I will make the reservation under the name "Valammar". It will be just myself - the Nuglet is spending Satinalia Eve with my sister. I must confess to feeling very close to you, even through this detached medium of communication. There is an intimacy to a letter that is lacking in texts or even a phone call. I am glad to have been allowed to get to know you in this way and, I hope, to continue to know you face to face very soon.

With the best of wishes, Your Friend (and the Nuglet).

"Andraste's tits," she breathed, her eyes wide with sudden nervous excitement. "He said yes!"

A yawn from the doorway announced the arrival of her flatmate and best friend, looking rumpled but fetching in pink nug-printed pajamas. Josephine wriggled her fingers in a sleepy hello, groping her way toward the coffee-pot.

"And good morning to you, too." Mila chuckled at the lack of response as Josephine poured out a cup of black coffee and inhaled it. "If you manage a full sentence, I'll let you get to the shower first."

Still half-asleep, Josephine slithered into a seat at the table, hugging her mug close. Her dark eyes focused on the picture with a lazy smile rising on her lips. "Another letter from Dear Friend?"

Mila grinned, biting her lip. "He said yes," she told her friend. "He wants to go to dinner on Satinalia Eve. At Felicisma."

Josephine's sleepiness melted away as this information planted itself in her mind. "That is a very nice place," she approved, her smile warming. "So you must write back and say yes, and while we are out today, we will find you something gorgeous to wear to your date."

"It's not exactly a date, Josie," Mila began, but her friend's enthusiasm had been captured by the whole thing.

"Unless he specifically says otherwise, this is a date," she insisted. "And we will make you look ravishing. Not that you do not look ravishing ordinarily ..." Josephine paused, considering this statement when set against the woman sitting in front of her. Tall, dark-haired, dark-eyed, long legs, but unfortunately with a habit of wearing oversized sweaters and t-shirts. She shook her head. "A dress, heels, make up."

"Not heels," Mila objected laughingly, shaking her own head. "I'm not ending the night at the hospital because I broke my own ankle falling over."

Josephine frowned, but knew she wasn't going to win this argument before it even began. "Cute flats, then," she compromised. "The make up is non-negotiable."

"Are you saying I look old?" Mila accused in amusement.

"Not at all," Josephine assured her. "Tired is how you look, especially after work, and you will have been at work. Some days, you look as though a coffin would suit you better than a bed."

"Thanks," was the drawling reply as Mila picked up the other letter she had received in the post that morning. "You're such an encouragement."

"I live to serve," Josephine teased. She rose, fortified by her coffee enough to scrounge around the kitchen for breakfast herself. She tapped the picture lying on the table. "Shall I put this up on the fridge?"

"No, I'll put it up behind my computer," Mila said distractedly, frowning down at the letter in her hand. She sighed heavily, setting the paper down. "I should have read that first."

"Bad news?"

"You could say that. I got passed over for the promotion." Mila scowled, rubbing her fingers through her hair in agitation. "Which means Cullen got it, which means he's now my boss. I have a boss who never listens to a word I say."

Josephine sighed to herself quietly. She'd heard plenty about Mila's co-worker Cullen over the last year; if she didn't know better, she'd suggest her friend just sleep with him and get all that sexual tension out in the open.

"Are you sure you're approaching him in the right way?" she asked mildly.

"Of course I am!" Mila defended herself. "It's not like his way is the perfect way. He should be open to suggestions from everyone else."

"But you did say that he took Cassandra's suggestion about contact time with the old lion into account," Josephine pointed out with deceptive gentleness.

"Cassandra's practically him in female form," Mila grumped. But she did accept what Josephine was saying. "All right, maybe I'm a little - a little bit - confrontational. But what else can I do? He never has time to listen to what I have to say!"

"Do you ever approach him when there is time to talk it over?" Josephine asked sweetly.

Mila's eyes narrowed. "I hate it when you do that," she muttered. "You're my best friend, you're supposed to support me unconditionally."

"No, darling, I'm supposed to guide you to the correct path while being winsome and charming," Josephine corrected her with a fond grin. "You're not doing it properly, then?"

"No, I'm not," her friend conceded reluctantly. "And I get angry and defensive before he really says anything. I can't help it. You know how I feel about this."

"And, of course, it does not help that you fancy him," the Antivan woman added with impish mischief.

"I do not fancy Cullen Rutherford!"

Josephine laughed aloud, sitting down to butter her toast as she watched her friend scowl a little exaggeratedly. "You are allowed to fancy someone who isn't your Dear Friend, you know," she pointed out. "For all you know, Dear Friend is in his nineties and the child doesn't even exist. But this Cullen of yours is handsome, passionate, and has a little girl you like."

"Liking Alys does not mean I have to like her father," Mila pointed out in a prickly tone. "She's a smart kid, and she's fun to hang out with at work. It isn't her fault she has a father who's as ..." She sighed, rolling her eyes. "Yes, all right, he's as fuckable as he is aggravating. Happy now?"

"I'd be happier if you would get some proof of that," Josephine smirked, waving a hand to stave off the protests that inevitably followed. "No, of course I understand that sleeping with your nemesis is not something you wish to do. Even if he is ... fuckable."

"Can we stop talking about how the bane of my working life is also exactly my type?" Mila complained mildly. "I'm meeting Dear Friend. It will be perfect. I already know him inside out, he knows me. I don't care if he's a grandfather, or fat, or ugly, or whatever else you want to scare me with. He's my Dear Friend, and I kind of love him, you know?"

Josephine's smile warmed. "I am very glad to hear it," she agreed. "Which is why you will look ravishing for him, and I am not taking no for an answer."

Mila considered her for a moment. "I should really write my reply so we can drop it in the Post Office while we're out," she mused, implicitly agreeing to her friend's renewed enthusiasm for the day. "I'll do that while you're in the shower. You're staying at Leliana's on Satinalia Eve, aren't you?"

Josephine shook her head, chewing her mouthful fully before swallowing to answer. "No, she has some work meeting or something on that day," she said. "And I have to call my parents in the morning of Satinalia day itself, so we're going to meet up for the afternoon. Aren't you working both days?"

Mila nodded with a faint chuckle. "Everyone else in the department has family. Working Satinalia isn't so much a wrench for me. Besides, they will all drop in at some point. The cats are as much family to them as their humans, elves, and dwarves are."

"I will never understand how you can get so much joy out of looking after animals you can't even pet safely," Josephine declared, rising to put her plate in the sink. "Your elderly lion does not count. He is one good episode of flatulence away from the grave, of course he allows you to cuddle him."

"Hey, be nice about Amatus." Mila laughed. "He's my dude. Best man in my life, that lion."

"That you feel this way about a lion tells me you desperately need to remove your love life from letter-writing to reality," Josephine drawled, her voice warm with affection for her friend as she wrapped her arm about Mila's shoulders. "He will love you, I am sure of it. So write to him; tell him you agree, and you will see him on Satinalia Eve, and let me make you into a princess for one night only. Agreed?"

"Well, I have the early shift on that day, so you'll have about seven hours to do it in," Mila warned her, hugging her friend about the waist. "Sure you can manage an actual princess look in such a short time?"

Josephine snorted with laughter. "If you're very unlucky, I'll bring help," she teased, gently pulling away. "Write your letter. I'm going to take a shower."

Mila felt her smile fix in place as she listened to her best friend slip off into the bathroom, picking up her letter and the picture, and moving over to her desk in the living room. Four bits of Blu-tac later, and the picture of Dear Friend's Satinalia Tree and his disembodied hand was secured to the wall behind it, among several other pictures that had been drawn just for her by the Nuglet over the last year. Just seeing them there made her smile turn to a happy grin as she sat herself down, pulling out her fountain pen and writing paper. This was a good thing that was happening. It was about time she let something good into her love life.

Dear Friend,

Seven at Felicisima, it is! I'll wear blue, and I'll have a copy of Genitivi's Thedas: Myths and Legends on the table, with a yellow daisy tucked into it. I remember that you mentioned daisies are Nuglet's favorite flower and, well, we've exchanged views on Genitivi so often, he seems like a part of our relationship!

Was that too presumptuous? Was there such a thing as too presumptuous when you'd been discussing anything and everything with a faceless friend for more than a year? Besides, it was a relationship, she reasoned. Every regular interaction between anyone formed a relationship. She snorted with laughter, rolling her eyes at herself. Dear Friend wouldn't think anything of her using that word, she was sure. He was a gentleman.

Maker, please let him be handsome.

#dear friend #shop around the corner au #modern au #cullen rutherford #mila trevelyan #cullen x trevelyan #enemies to lovers #josephine montilyet #the plot - such as it is - thickens

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fandomcentralcity · 7 years ago

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Beautiful Surprise.

Lena sighs.

All she wants to do is go home to her girlfriend and her dog. That’s it.

Instead, she’s here listening to some fucking old, sexist, pimple of a man rant about her new technology that she introduced today.

“… that’s why we shouldn’t have let a woman run this company! … She has no idea what she is doing… She is putting this company at risk…”

Lena tunes him out and starts thinking about when she gets welcomed home by their dog Krypto. He’d jump on her, might knock her down if she didn’t take her shoes off quick enough too.

She chuckles.

There would be boxes everywhere, too. Kara had said yes when she asked her to move in and Lena couldn’t be more excited. After 2 years, it was time. The compromise was they would have to wait a month in order for Kara’s lease to end, AND Kara wasn’t allowed to use her powers. Lena always wanted the experience of moving in with someone, the laughs, and yes even the fights.

She smiles, she can’t wait to get home.

Finally, she’s brought back to reality…

“LEX WOULD BE ASHAMED TO SEE WHAT THIS COMPANY HAS COME TO!!!”

That’s the moment that she loses it.

“Mr. Buchanan, I don’t know how many times I’ve said that this company is nothing like the one that my brother ran. We do not invest in chaos, war or hate. I, for one, am very happy with that fact. I will never run this company like Lex did. Furthermore, I am sick and tired of your sexist, anti-alien, testosterone-driven rants about my technology and the way I’m running this company. Now, I’ve dealt with it for three years and I’m finally done.”

She stands up and glares at him.

“Here’s what I propose: you either step down or I will leak all of your indiscretions, and ALL of your investments to the media.” She states as she slides a packet to him.

Within the packet are pictures him being intimate with women who are not his wife in a dingy hotel room, alleyways, massage parlors, and even in his own bed. There are lists of his investments and how much he’s invested in them. Most of them are… shady, to say the least.

“You wouldn’t- you can’t just- you won’t do-” He sputters as he looks through the contents.

She interrupts him “I can and believe me when I say, I will. Not only will your wife leave you because of the pictures, the people will turn against you, your investments will be gone, you will be ostracized, bankrupt- because we all know it’s really your wife’s money that you are spending- and you will be forced to step down from this board. As much as I would LOVE for that to happen, I believe myself to be above that. So, I give you a choice. Take it or leave it.”

She pauses, and looks around the room.

“Does anyone else have a problem? No? Good. Mr. Buchanan, you can let my secretary Jess know your answer by 8 o'clock tomorrow morning. A second later, you will be seeing all of this information on national news, and do not think you can escape it. I have contacts you can even begin to dream of having.” She picks up her things, and with a "Good day gentlemen.” she storms out of the room.

She is beyond angry. She has had to deal with these incompetent, hateful beings for as long as she’s been the CEO. She is completely done with the whole board, some of which have been here since before she took over. A few of them are still loyal to Lex, like Mr. Buchanan. She has been trying to get them to leave, but that is proving difficult. The only ways they can go are if they step down, or get voted off. Most of the old board she blackmailed out, of course, there are no records of her doing so, nor are there any credible witnesses. Her word is better than theirs, especially if she leaked a scandal or two.

“Fucking idiots.” She numbed as she walks by Jess and into her office.

She grabs her coat, and packs up her things.

“Jess, I’m leaving for the day. Cancel my appointments, and then you can go home.”

“Yes Ms. Luther.”

Lena stops and quirks her eyebrow at Jess.

“I mean, Lena” Jess replies with a smile.

Lena smiles “Better. Enjoy the rest of your day Jess.”

“You too!”

Lena practically runs to her car, eager to go home and leave her awful day at work behind her.

When she gets outside her apartment, - THEIR apartment- she takes a minute to collect herself. She lets her anger from the day go, and eagerly opens the door. “Hey Babe! I’m home!”.

She hears a bark and quickly throws down her stuff and takes her shoes off before a blond blur jumps on her.

Lena laughs, “Hey Buddy, ohhh, I missed you too!! Was today good?! Mine wasn’t as god as yours I bet! Thank you for all the kisses!” She gushes, as she loves on her adorable dog. After Krypto calms down a bit Lena asks, “Where’s your other mama??” Wondering why Kara hasn’t greeted her like she normally does.

Krypto barks and runs down the hallway to the master bedroom where Lena hears Kara squealing.

Lena opens the door, “I’m almost afraid to as-”

Kara excitedly interrupts as soon as she sees Lena, “I didn’t know you had baby pictures!!!“You were so freaking cute!!!! Well I mean they aren’t baby pictures, but they’re of you as a child and I thought you didn’t have any!!! But you do, and I HAD to go through them because you went through mine. I thought it was okay, but you’re not saying anything so I’m assuming it’s not? If I crossed a boundary-” Kara’s rant stops when Lena holds up her hand.

"Love? Say something please, or emote, because you normally have a reaction when I’m doing something you don’t like. But right now, you’re just… there.” Kara worriedly states.

Lena doesn’t say anything as Kara is talking. She picked up a few of the pictures and started to look at them. She drifts to the floor as tears form in her eyes.

Kara notices and superspeeds to Lena wrapping her arms around her, knowing something serious is going on.

“Hey love, what’s wrong?” Kara asks softly as she turns Lena’s head towards her and gently brushes the tears from Lena’s eyes.

Lena looks back down at the picture in her hand. It’s of her and Lex at the zoo when they were 8. A monkey is on Lena’s shoulder, her dad is handing it a piece of fruit. Lex’s arm is around her, her eyes are on the monkey, and Lex is laughing at her.

She remembers this day. it was her first trip to the zoo, and it was magical. Her favorite part was the otters and the monkeys.

Kara rubbing her arm brings her back to reality.

“That box,” gesturing to the box that the pictures came out of, “is from the Luthor Mansion.” She says as she tries to hold in her tears. “I always assumed that Mother didn’t save any pictures of me, because I wasn’t Lex. She was always very cold to me. In her eyes, I never did anything right. I honestly thought she never loved me. Apparently, I was wrong. I was so, so wrong.” She whispered as she looked to the multitude of pictures around the room.

She looks up to Kara, “She did love me. I always figured she only said that because she wanted something from me; but it’s true. My mother actually loves me.”

Kara held her tighter. “Turn the picture over” she whispers to Lena.

Curious, Lena does, and her breath hitches.

On the picture it said, “May 6th, 1999. Your first zoo trip. You loved the monkeys and otters the most. You absolutely despised the snakes after the King Cobra hissed at you. You hugged me at that moment because you were scared. You smiled more today than you have since you been with us. I love you my darling angel, Momma.”

Lena covered her mouth with her hand.

“They’re all like that” Kara whispers in her ear.

Lena shuts her eyes as tears flow out.

Kara holds her till her body stops shaking, carefully wiping Lena’s tears when they stop flowing, and kisses her forehead.

Lena takes a breath, and looks up, “Can we go through these together? I don’t know if I can do it alone.”

Kara nods with a smile, “Of course love. Do you want to move to the bed first though? I’m getting uncomfortable and I’m an alien. I can only imagine what you’re feeling.” she grins.

Lena chuckles, “Yes, Yes, the puny human is also uncomfortable.” with a kiss, she helps Kara up. Lena starts collecting the pictures from the ground as Kara moves the box closer to the bed.

That night they share laughter, tears, pizza on their bed (“Just this once” Lena states), and memories, becoming closer than ever before.

As they are going to bed, Lena starts thinking about her day. "You know, that was a beautiful surprise to come home to. I had the worst day at work.” she states, slipping on her pajama bottoms.

"Oh? Do tell.” Kara replies.

“Well Buchanan was raving about how I don’t run the company the right way, my technology will never sell, and then he finished his rant by saying Lex would be ashamed about how I am running the company.” She says, getting annoyed again.

“Oooofff, wrong move buddy. What did you do?” Kara asks, slipping under the covers.

“You know that information packet on him I’ve been amassing? Well, he has quite a few indiscretions, and a lot of investments that don’t make him look very good in the public eye. So, I gave him a choice.”

“Good for you! He needs to go.” Kara exclaims.

Lena looks up from brushing her hair, surprised, “I thought you were against me blackmailing them off?”

“That was before Dummie Number Three tried to assassinate you. Twice.” Kara gripes, “You’d think they would learn better by now.”

Lena chuckles, “Yeah, I have a super girlfriend that is always there to protect me, and catch me when I fall.” she winks as she climbs in next to Kara.

“And a super-cool mom that loves you.” Kara adds.

“She’s still the head of Cadmus.” Lena replies, looking at the picture on her bedside table of her family at the zoo.

“Yes, but she loves you. So, there is still hope.” Kara says as she puts her arms around Lena.

“That is true, she does love me.” Looking at all the pictures around the room, all with handwritten notes behind them.

“You know who also loves you?” Kara asks. “Me.”

“You’re a dork.” Lena chuckles as Kara’s lips meet hers.

“Goodnight, my love.”

“Goodnight Lena.”

That night they fall asleep in each other’s arms, with Lena’s childhood scattered on the furniture in the room, with their dog at their feet.

They didn’t get through all the pictures, but they will. After all, they have the rest of their lives together, and Lena couldn’t be happier.

#supercorp #supergirl #i did a thing #I'm sorry if its bad #Ill do better #please don't hate me #Tell me what you think #it popped into my head #I hope you like it #first fanfic #lena luthor #kara danvers #katie mcgrath #melissa benoist

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forkanna · 5 years ago

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[AO3 LINK] [EF LINK]

NOTE: ¥100 is roughly $0.90 US, for Americans who don't want to have to stop reading and google, which I totally understand. Just approximate ¥100 =$1 for somewhat close conversion purposes.

Also, this is where the story really begins to take off. The setup is complete: let the yuri begin!

CHAPTER FOUR

~ x The Priestess x ~

Less than two hours later, I was sitting nervously on a bed in Dogenzaka. Love Hotel Hill. The last place I ever expected to find myself.

Just in case you don't know about it - which I doubt, Sis - that's where all young couples go when they need a night to themselves. Or just a few hours. Maybe the problem is a messy apartment, maybe it's parents… maybe it's just very thin walls in their building. Either way, love hotels do a lot of business - and that little corner of Shibuya plays host to the highest concentration of them in Tokyo. Finding one that would rent to me for a couple of hours without me already having the second person in tow was the easy part, and only cost me ¥3000.

Especially easy considering my disguise.

The hardest part was actually making the phone call. It took every ounce of courage I had, especially because I would be disguising my voice - which was something I didn't have a lot of experience doing. The memory of the call was still fresh in my mind…

"Housekeeping Service Victoria! What can we do for you today, sir?"

"Um… can I have… a maid?" Did I mention I was also the most nervous I had ever been in my life?

"Sure," the woman on the other end giggled. "That's what we're here for! Do you have a special request, or would you like me to describe a few of our top-rated maids and what services they can help you with?"

"I want Miss K-" That had been a close one. "W-what I mean is, do you have a maid named Becky?"

"Oh! I can certainly transfer you to Becky and see if she's available! One moment please."

Some pleasant, inoffensive harpsichord music played in the background until the transfer connected. The entire time, I had been sweating bullets, practicing making my voice even deeper.

"Hiiii! You've reached Becky! How may I help you today, meow?"

"Two hours. How much?" The less I said, the better.

"That will be ¥10000! Are you sure you need me for two hours, Master? I might be able to get all my work done in half that time!"

"Yes." Her calling me 'master' was already giving me nausea. But I tried to power through; I had to know what she was doing. After all, sweet Ann had given me half the money to request her, so the least I could do was follow through. "Hotel Juliet. Here is the address…"

And that was that. She didn't even waste a second hesitating when I gave her the address of a love hotel; just took it in stride. Which already seemed to be confirming my worst fears, but I told myself that I wouldn't back down or make any more assumptions; that would be even worse than confirming the truth.

So I made the room the tiniest bit messy while I waited for her. Then I sat on the bed, shaking like a leaf and sweating bullets. Right up until I heard the knock at the door.

"Housekeeping!" she called in a sing-song.

"Come in!" She came in. And already, I really wished she hadn't.

My Japanese language teacher stood before me wearing the same frilly black-and-white French maid outfit. What parallel universe did I step into?! Her hair was up in pigtails that hung down to her shoulders - or rather, it was a wig. No way her natural hair was long enough for that. A layer of foundation helped to conceal the very slight signs of ageing, making her passable for 21 or similar. Not that I knew how old she really was.

"It is nice to meet you, Master," she said with a playful curtsy. Really, I didn't think curtsies could be playful, but she did it.

"Good evening," I attempted in my best impression of a male voice.

"My my myyyeeow, but you're so handsome," she buttered me up with a flutter of her mascaraed eyelashes. "I'm such a lucky girl that you'll let me get covered in dust for you!"

"Th-thank you." Was I really handsome, though? My disguise was pretty believable. Ann helped me a lot with it, especially doing the stage makeup that made me look like I had a five o'clock shadow. But it was the big bushy mustache and having my shoulder-length hair stuffed up into fedora that made me look different enough that my teacher might not notice.

She stepped out of her Mary Janes and paced a little closer away from the door. "So! Let's just take care of that silly fee and we can get started right away! Victoria said you would pay in person?"

"Oh! Right, um…" Quick as I could, I fished out ¥10000 and handed it over. A double-shift for her. She pocketed it immediately, not even batting an eye. How many times had she done this?

"Thanks sooooo much! You're the best, Master! What can Becky do for you today?"

"U-um, well… get started on this mess. Then we can relax." That sounded really cheesy and sleazy, but it was the best I could do.

"Of course," she said with a huge wink as she fished a laminated card out of her apron pocket. "You can check this out while I get started! Should only take me a few minutes!"

I accepted it without really thinking, then watched numbly for a moment as she began to tidy up the pillows and sheets I had strewn around the floor. Humming a little tune as she worked. Finally, I decided the card might actually be important and took a look.

Hello, Master! Thank you for using Victoria Housekeeping Service! My name is BECKY ! I'm happy to do whatever you need!

Standard services include:

-Sweeping, mopping, vacuuming, dusting -Making beds/Airing out futons -Laundry -Light cooking -Conversation

Premium services (additional charge):

-Dancing alone ¥500 -Dancing together ¥500 -Lap kitten ¥1000 -Lap pillow ¥1000 -Tucking you in ¥1000 -Stocking removal ¥1000 -Keep stockings ¥5000 -Foot/neck massage ¥1000 -Deep back massage ¥2000 -Health Massage ¥5000 (Note: maid may refuse at any time) -Health Kiss ¥10000 (Note: maid may refuse at any time)

Prohibited requests:

-Pictures -Kissing the maid -Touching the maid without explicit permission, with any part of the client's body or objects under their control

Our maids are very important to Victoria! Please treat me with kindness and care! ❤

That had me reeling. Just that Miss Kawakami had to specify that nobody was allowed to touch her without her permission… this was her life after school was out. Being constantly hit on by men who had her all alone in their houses. She must have spent a lot of time hating herself on the inside. I had to wonder if that contributed to how weary she always looked, beyond simply being tired. But then I saw the fine print at the bottom of the card:

Our employees (maids) are not prostitutes and are not allowed to participate in sexual intercourse with unspecified persons. Violators of this policy will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law. All names and locations of clients are noted in our records and employees who do not report in are treated as victims of crime and the clients as the responsible parties until proven otherwise.

Well… at least there was that.

"Soooo," my temporary maid asked as she picked up the condoms I had dumped out of the bedside table drawer - which I now was horrified about since I hadn't even noticed what they were before, "my master seems to have been very messy just for meeee. Was there another reason you called our service?"

The twinkle in her eye when she winked at me said it all: this was a love hotel. Even if I somehow partied so hard in two hours that I trashed the room, no way would I need to call a separate maid when the hotel staff would take care of that.

"L-lonely," I grumbled, trying to seem standoffish.

"Awwww, that's okay. I offer a lot of premium services, but… if you just wanna talk, we can talk. Becky doesn't mind at all." She finished putting them away, then straightened and folded her hands in front of her lap, waiting patiently for my response. Obediently.

"Um…" Glancing back down at the card, I looked up and asked, "K-keep stockings?"

Only when her eyebrows went up did I realise what that meant. But she was already recovering from her brief surprise and saying, "Master, you really want to keep my stockings? I'm so honoured!"

"W-wait, no, I…" Clearing my throat, desperately trying to deepen my voice again, I tried to play it off. "Maybe later. First… what is 'dancing alone'?"

"Ohhh. Oh, I see - you're just trying to decide what you like on the menu. Do you want a little sample?"

At first, I thought she meant a sample of the stockings. Was she going to cut off a piece?! But then she started doing a little sexy dance - nothing extremely lewd, but it definitely made my pulse speed up slightly. Was this really happening? My teacher was dancing for me - like a stripper without the stripping part! But it was over after only about ten seconds, and then she was giggling and covering her mouth.

"Dancing alone… got it. Very nice." As she bowed, an idea suddenly occurred to me. "Tell me about Becky." Maybe if I asked, she would reveal a little bit about herself. Or I would get some made-up story about this character she had invented. Either way, at least she wouldn't be sitting in my lap or any of those things.

"Sure! May I sit here?" When I nodded, she sank down onto the bed next to me, hands folded neatly on her lap. "Do you like Japanese maids, or Western maids?"

"Japanese?"

"Alrighty. So, Becky used to be a little girl whose father liked Western movies. That's how she got such a funny name! And she always dreamed of serving others, making them feel good. She didn't always know how she wanted to do that, but…" She leaned a little closer, and my heart pounded louder in my chest. "Then she one day realised that if she took this job, she would meet Master someday."

"Huh?" Her face was even closer, and my fingers gripped the bedsheet tightly as I fought the instinct to back up. "Me?"

Her nod was completely sure. "My master was going to be the best master. And he would take care of me like I take care of him. That's all Becky ever wanted out of life." Similarly, her smile was warm, and kind. "And I will do whatever I can to make him happy. Okay?"

"Okay. I m-mean… yeah."

"Good!" she sat back with a wider smile, and I let out a sigh of relief. Definitely a made-up story, just to make the client feel gratified in some way. How different listening to that had been from listening to one of her lectures in class; it was like she really was a completely different person.

"Becky," I began as I thought about the list. What was something I could order? I already booked her for two hours, so now I had to find something to do that would fill that time. "What is, um… Health Kiss?"

This shift was obvious, and I could almost reach out and touch the change in atmosphere. Miss Kawakami's eyes dulled for a moment, and she looked through me rather than at me. She took a couple of little breaths. Then a much less genuine smile reappeared on her face - though it might have fooled most of her hornier, less perceptive clientele.

"It's something very special. Becky only gives that to her best Masters, if she can. Sometimes she can't. Is… is that alright with Master?"

"Yes!" I told her right away, eyes wide. "I'm sorry, I… it's okay. I just was curious." Definitely something sexual. That was as much as I really needed to find out, but now I felt awful for asking. My teacher was a Delivery Health professional, even if those services were limited to two sexual acts, apparently.

"Of course. Master can ask whatever he wants!" A little of the genuine cheer started to come back, but she was still shaken. "Well, what can we do? I like talking with Master, but it's okay if Master wants something more from Becky. Even just…" She gestured around. "You don't happen to have a broom, do you?"

"No." I thought frantically. Literally everything on the list of special services intimidated me; how was I supposed to let her sit on my lap? Or massage me?! She would feel my curves underneath the random boy clothes! My finger tapped the stockings. "Are you hot in those?"

Kawakami shrugged a tiny bit. "A little, but I want to look nice for Master. Unless… Master wouldn't mind seeing me without them…?"

"Yes. I… wait." I glanced at the card again, then nodded to myself and fished out another bill. There went my allowance… "Here."

She took it and put it with the rest. None of the standard services besides talking were open to me in a random hotel room, and I was running out of things to say. This was the lesser of the evils; taking off her stockings and the sexy dancing were the only premium ones that didn't involve me, so I thought one of those was probably the smartest move. And at least all this would mean was seeing her legs, and I had seen plenty of girl-legs. It wasn't going to matter to me.

How wrong I was.

"Oooh, I really am hot," she giggled as she began running her hands up and down the outsides of her thighs. "Master had me work so hard to clean the room that now… Becky's so warm…" She bit her bottom lip as she slid her hands up her skirt…

This was unbelievable. Both that I was watching Miss Kawakami strip for me, and that it was affecting me. My heart rate was up, my palms tingling, my head buzzing like it was full of bees. She was a woman! She was my teacher! What on earth was wrong with me?!

Barely an inch of skin became visible beneath the hem of the skirt where it rested above her knees when she fixed me with a level stare. "Master…"

"Huh? What?!" Then I cleared my throat, made my voice more 'butch' again. "I mean… is there a problem?"

"You paid to take them off," she breathed throatily, fluttering her lashes again. "Don't you want to?"

Oh no. I thought I was just paying for her not to be wearing tights anymore. Not for the 'pleasure' of taking them off myself.

"It's alright? I mean… I'll be touching you."

"It's what my Master wants, so of course it is. But I trust you not to let those greedy hands go anywhere!" She admonished me with a wagging finger and a big grin, as if we were joking around; we both knew I wasn't going to do any such things. How laughable!

But there was a pinprick of fear in her eye. She was probably always worried she would get a client who didn't understand the way things worked.

"N-no, ma'am," I said automatically. That did get her blinking a few times, but I quickly followed up with, "This is all I want."

And I leaned down and began to push them off. At first, I tried to do it without really touching her, but I looked stupid and she chuckled a little. It was probably 'cute'. So then I pet along her legs a little before trying again, my grip firmer as I began to pull them down.

"Careful!" she warned me. "You'll tear them if you go too fast. Besides… this is all for you. Take your time! I want Master to have as much fun as he wants with my stockings."

Would this nightmare never end?! Not only did I have to do this now that I paid for it, or else she would figure out something was up, but I had to take my time and 'enjoy myself' - even though what I really wanted was to run screaming from Hotel Juliet as fast as my legs could carry me. Trying to take the safe option, I had gone from watching my teacher strip to stripping my teacher in a matter of seconds. Whoops.

Kawakami did have great legs; clean-shaven and smooth, like she spent a lot of time moisturising. It was easier than I expected to whisper, "Very nice."

"Thank you, Master." She scooted back a little further on the bed as I sat back to get the opaque white fabric moving down along her calves. They were heavily-perfumed, probably just for this reason. And the perfume was nice… but I could catch the vaguest hint of something else underneath the floral scent. Probably her natural scent.

Not that I wanted to think about it. Not that I wanted to do this at all.

"Silly Master," she giggled as I teased the fabric back and forth around her ankles, milking the moment. Now it was more because I didn't know what I was going to do once it was over. Rub my face on them? Pet her legs? Just put them on the bed and lock myself in the bathroom? The last one sounded fantastic at this point.

"Am I?"

"Yes." She booped my nose with her big toe and I couldn't help smiling. Why was that so cute? Why was any of this cute?! "Becky's happy you're having fun with her!"

Though I didn't forget to pitch my voice low, I ended up telling her very honestly, "I guess I am. Wow." Then I refocused and slid the stockings the rest of the way off.

"Oh myyyyy. I guess Master has to see Becky's feet now." Somehow, the tone of her voice made it very clear that she was fishing… because she was. Did she think I had a thing? Her little toes began to 'walk' up the front of my button-up and blazer, heading for my neck, but at a snail's pace. I could stop her very easily. She just wanted to find out what I was curious about and if she could cater to those needs in small ways.

"Guess so." I caught them and held on to keep them from moving higher. "I don't mind at all."

Again, she blinked in surprise, her mood shifting. But she seemed a lot more flattered than fearful this time. "You know… if Master decided he wants a Health Massage after all, Becky could use these…" Her toes flexed in my hands. "If you're patient with me. Becky hasn't tried that before."

"I'll keep that in mind," I hedged, trying not to mentally picture whatever that would be. The idea of sitting here, helping my teacher take off her clothes while she called me 'Master' was already enough to short-circuit my brain; I didn't need additional elements.

But then I was distracted for a second. Kawakami was calculating. I knew that look from you, Sis; when you have a case weighing heavy on your mind, it always happens before you either come up with a new angle for a lead, or work through a puzzle that had been giving you a hard time. Then…

Then she knelt down on the floor, suddenly filling my vision. Glancing down, I could see her cleavage — and forced myself to look back into her chocolatey eyes instead.

"M-miss… Becky…"

"Becky will stop if you want," she whispered very quietly. "But if you can pay the fee… Becky thinks she would like to help her master be more healthy. Take care of… whatever he needs." Her hand fell to pet up and down my side…

That was how the game changed. Suddenly it wasn't just about her body being real, and sensual, in a way no one else's had ever been in my eyes - despite my efforts to prevent that. Now she had awakened mine. And even knowing that it was a specific, intentional, targeted attempt to make me give in and pay her that ¥5000… well, I had never been in a position like this before.

"I don't know," I managed to get out, trying to back up but failing to do it well enough - or quickly enough - to convince her. "I might not… be ready."

"I think you're ready," she whispered as her hand slid up the inside of my thigh. "But don't worry. Becky will do whatever it takes to make you… feel…"

Her hand went higher than I expected that soon after she started. And this, more than anything else, sent pure shock into her wide eyes.

"…healthy?"

To Be Continued…

#Queen Of Temperance #forkanna writes #niijima makoto #kawakami sadayo #persona 5 fanfiction #persona 5 #p5 #p5 fanfic #jess the writer

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mafiabosstsuna · 8 years ago

Text

Mukuro, Hibari and Byakuran acting Protective of their s/o

Mukuro

“Pardon the intrusion ma'am, but may I have a quick word with you?” Your teeth pinched your lower lip in an attempt to prevent a groan from leaving your mouth. You had been assigned to go undercover as a teacher at an all male privet school. Something about the headmaster organizing a heist to take the large shipment of guns’ that the Vongola was able to obtain before they were shipped out to local small-time gangs. "Yes, what can I do for you, Professor?“ You took a page from Murkuro and allowed charming, but hollow, tight-lipped smile stretch across your face. You stood from the chair behind the desk and turned to the Professor in the doorway. It took everything not to cringe at the smell that wafted off of the man. Had no one told him about deodorant, or better yet the magical thing called a shower? "Well, you see myself and a few of the other teachers have some concerns.” He cleared his throat before continuing. “You see,” you felt your face twitch as he stepped into the classroom and shut the door behind him, “multiple of us believe that some of your choices of attire might not be the best and most professional choice.” That made you pause in your internal complaints. Glancing down at your deep purple long sleeved bodycon style dress. A white and purple scarf was draped across your shoulders, your black heels sat innocently underneath the large oak desk. Pearl bracelet and earrings where your choice of jewelry this morning. “And pray tell is wrong with my choice of work clothes?” You glanced back up at the man only to cringe seeing that he had gotten closer to you while you were assessing your clothes of choice. "Well, you see,“ your eye twitched at the repeated phrase, "as you know we are an elite all-male privet school.” He cleared his throat out. “With the boys here are at a certain age where they start to notice the opposite….,” Your inner monolog drowned the rest of his yammering out. This guy had to be bullshitting you, there was no way he was going to pull this kind of crap on you. “and thusly we would like you to start wearing less revealing clothing so you do not distract the boys from their studies.” He was. "Kufufu…“ Before you could open your mouth to lay it into the sexist skin hating ass, a laugh flooded the large lecture room. "That was quite an unwise thing to say, for a man such as yourself.” You both watched as the familiar pineapple haired man melts from the shadows of a corner. You watched in exasperation as the color from the professor’s chubby face drained into a pastel white. Beady eyes rolled to the back, and his heavy-set body hit the tiled floors with a heavy thud. You shot a look at the illusionist. “That was unnecessary, I could have handled the pig myself.” Murkuro gave his signature laughter before taking your hand in his and placed a feathered kiss on the back of it. “I have no doubt that your sharp tongue and harsh words could have done just that. But I could not help myself, the thought of others staring at what is mine with such dirty thoughts fills me with rage that is beyond control.” “I am not some property to own you ass.” You grumbled and jerked your hand back to your side. Despite wanting to seem made you could feel your cheeks turning red. Twisting away from the man before you in hope he would not see your embarrassment, even though you know it was no use he saw everything it seemed. “Let’s just get out of here already.” You fled the room before he could say anything. "Kufufuf…. of corse.“ His long stride made it easy to catch up with you. You felt his long arm snake its way around your waist before pulling you close to his side.

Hibari

A deep sigh passed through your slightly chapped lips. You were stuck at home today, as per Hibari’s demands. You had gotten a minor concussion the last mission that you had gone on, and despite being cleared for work, the ex-chairman had forced you to take the day off. The thing about being stuck at home that you shared with Hibari it always ended up being too quiet for your tastes. Even when Hibari was home the large home was quiet seeing as Hibari was not one to fill the silence with mindless chit-chat and in the end neither were you. But that quiet was different than this one, this one filled your being with a strange sense of unease. Your eyes panned the room in despite need to find something to do. You pause as you spot your thin black phone that sat on the dark chabudai in the middle of the open living room. Your eyebrows raised in thought and glanced down at your attire. You had decided to be lazy today and chose to wear nothing but one of Hibari’s button down white shirts over a pair of one of your most expensive lingerie sets that you own. You never really wore any of them as much as you used to. You had stopped since you moved in with Hibari. Seeing as he had a habit of ripping the fragile fabric when he became impatient. You had learned your lesson when you had decided to wear a one of a kind limited edition set on one of the few dates that he had taken you on. A sly smile crept onto your lips. If he thinks that you would spend a dull day at home while he got to go out and have fun with no complaints, he had another thing coming. `.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.` A deep scowl was permanent on the skylarks face today. So was a migraine that pounded behind his eyes, and the one that sat on the couch across from him. Today seemed to tick on forever for him, normally it would be someone else that sat across from him, someone more desirable. Instead, he has had to deal with the blond herbivore ever since he stepped through the entrance of the underground safe house. If you had been here with him, the blond herbivore would have left the moment you had opened your mouth. He never understood why the Chiavarone boss listened to you instead of him. His deep frown got deeper at the thought of depending on you. Suddenly the sound of vibration on solid wood broke through his musing. Not giving a damn if it was rude he reached for his thing flip phone that sat on the coffee table between the two black leather couches. Looking at the small screen on the front of the phone ‘1 new text message from Bambina’ it read. The corner of his mouth twitches up for a fraction of a second at the name you had placed your number under. You had been a bit upset when you had learned that he had put your name as week herbivore instead of your real name or a cute pet name. So you had stolen his cell phone just to change your name, it had been about half a week before he had gotten it back from you. Shaking his head off his drifting thoughts he opened the mobile device with a sharp flick of his wrist and opened the text. What he saw had caused his mind to go blank for a moment. There you sat staring up at the camera with wide eyes and a slight pout on your painted lips one of his old buttons down shirts was completely unbuttoned and shrugged down low so it showed off your shoulders. It wasn’t odd to see you in his clothes you stole his shirts and sweatpants on a daily basis. What caused him to pause was what you wore underneath. A sharp whistle broke his trance. "Hibari you are one lucky man. Is that a bustier and garter?” Sharp eyes snapped to the man that now leaned on the couch behind him looking over his shoulder and at the picture of you on his phone. His teeth ground togeather in irritation how dare this pathetic herbivore think he could look at a privet picture of you and think he can get away with it. Before Dino even realized what had happened he was on the floor with some of the most painful injuries he had ever felt that were inflicted by the younger man. “Tell Sawada that I am leaving, and if he ever sends you to my office again he will be retrieving you back in a body bag.” The tall man rumbled out and walked swiftly out the door before he could be stopped. He had something that needed to be done.

Byakuran

You adjusted the large floppy sun hat to sit more firmly on the top of your head. It was one of the warmer days in Dublin surprisingly seeing as it almost fell. But you weren’t complaining, this gave you a chance to window shopping one last time before it became too cold for you. It was also a nice time to finally wear a new outfit that you bought last week. It was one of your more flowy pieces, with a long dark blue skirt that had a thick leather belt that wrapped tightly around your midsection. It was light and with each step, you took you felt the soft see through material that made the outer layer brush against your bare ankles. It made you feel like twirling in circles just to watch the fabric fan out around you. The shirt you decided to pair it up with was a cream colored tank top. You had accessorized with wedges with blue straps, a brown leather bag, and a wooden necklace. You hummed happily, feeling confident with your choice of clothing. It was going to be a good day today. Just as that thought passed through your mind you suddenly felt a large calloused hand snatch one of your swinging arms and jerk you back into an alleyway you were passing. "Ah!“ You squeaked out when one of your ankles twisted at a weird angle because of the sudden side motion. You stumbled back into the rough brick wall of one of the buildings, scraping your bare arm. Looking up at the culprit that rudely jerked you out of your happy thoughts. "What the heck was that for?” You demanded the man that was still gripping your arm in a death grip. He was a tall man in his late twenties if you had to guess, dark messy hair. five o'clock shadow, and bright blue eyes. A heartthrob if you had met him in a more polite fashion but no. "I’m sorry for the rude and hasty introduction but there is no time for a proper greeting.“ A light Russian accent colored his hastily spoken words. "My name is Isaac and you must follow me and do exactly as I say okay?” He asked as he started to drag you down further into the alleyway towards where a dark car with tinted windows was parked. "NO! Not okay! What the hell is this? Get off me!“ You shouted and tugged at your arm in an attempt to shake his grip off, but his grip held strong. "I’m sorry Ma'am but like I said there is no time to explain, all you need to know is that you are in great danger and I am here to help you.” He explained without looking back at you. "Here to help me?! It’s more like your the one that’s the danger to me! HELP!“ You screamed as you reached down with your other hand to grasp his middle finger and pulled it back as far as you could. This was the wrong way to use this move but you couldn’t remember how they had shown you how to get out of a death grip from the front, and you had to do something. Though your attempt to get free was not successful. "SOMEONE HELP! RAPE! KIDNAP!” You shouted at the tops of your lungs. "Oh…What do we have here?“ A calm deep voice sounded from behind you. At the sound of another person caused a deep rush of relief passes through you. You weren’t going to be taken away by this weird and rude man. Speaking of the man he had frozen mid-stride, the abrupt stop had caused you to bump into his broad back. He slowly turned his head to look behind you. His once tan features were now a sickly white, his bright blue irises were now a barely visible rim surrounding his blown pupils. A thin layer of sweat had gathered on his forehead where a vein now bulged out in fear. You too turned your head to look behind you. Standing there in an all white Italian cut suit was your savior. He was tall, and a shockingly head of white hair despite his young age. His eyes were a beautiful shade of violet that matched his button up shirt and tie. He looked like an angel except for the wide fox-like a smile that was painted his lips, and the strange glint that shown in his eyes. "Why Issac, if I hadn’t known any better I would say you were trying to steal my sweet flower away from me.” The angelic man purred. His voice was light and airy but had a threatening undertone to it. His head cocked to the side his eyes squinted shut, giving a fighting smile. “That is against the rules you know. No one is to touch my flower except for me. And you know very well what happens to people who break the rules.” His lavender eyes cracked open, the fox-grin still persistent as the day. "I’m sorry Byakuran-sama.“ The Japanese title sounded weird mixed with a Russian accent to you. But you were too freaked out to ponder the odd combination. You had no idea what was going on. Angel man had called you his flower, and yet you have never met him before this day. And despite your inability to remember a face, you could never forget meeting someone with that hair and eye color combination. "Byakuran, we have to get going it’s almost time.” Suddenly another voice spoke from behind the white haired man. "Oh, is it that time already?“ Byakuran gave a giggle, which was odd to hear from a grown man. "Why don’t you take my flower to the car while I deal with Issac here, Sho-chan.” As told a redheaded man with glasses stepped out from behind Byakuran. He smoothly walked forward and grabbed you by the arm leading you to the car to the end of the ally. You were too shocked on what had conspired to make any objections about being dragged off by a stranger once again. All you had known that today you had met the devil who had gone by the name of Byakuran. That day you had met the man that says that he has known you for your whole life while you knew not of him. Each time you think back to the encounter and his explanations your head started to pound in confusion. But in the end, you had met the man that you love, so you couldn’t really complain much.

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dragonydreams · 8 years ago

Text

Steal the Air - Captain Canary Pump Up the Volume AU

Title: Steal the Air Fandom: DC's Legends of Tomorrow Rating: Teen Pairings/Characters: Sara Lance/Leonard Snart Summary: Leonard Snart is your regular quiet nerdy guy by day, but at night, make sure to catch his Facebook Live posts as the mysterious Captain Cold. Modern Pump Up the Volume AU Timeline: n/a Word Count: 5,142 Disclaimer: I claim no ownership over these characters. I am merely borrowing them from Berlanti Productions, DC Entertainment, and Warner Bros. Television. Betas: Thank you to angelskuuipo and shanachie_quill for looking this over for me. Author's Note 1/Additional Disclaimer: I love the movie "Pump Up the Volume" and thought it would work so well as a Captain Canary story. It's so brilliantly written, that I couldn't bring myself to change many of the words from the film, so much of the text belongs to Allan Moyle and New Line Cinema. Author's Note 2: Written for @ficcingcaptaincanary's Movie AU prompt. (Told you I was going to be late with this.) Author's Note 3: Youtube links to songs used in story as you read or listen to playlist for this story on Spotify

Did you ever get the feeling that everything in America is completely fucked up? You know that feeling that the whole country is like one inch away from saying, 'That's it, forget it.' We live in a world where vigilantes dispense justice in the cities and metahumans rule the streets. And we're expected to survive high school and go out into that crazy world. I can barely think about surviving another day of mediocre education, let alone making it in the "real world". You know what I'm talking about, Starling City. So sit back, relax, and do not adjust your screen because I am Captain Cold and this is live. This is life.

~~*~~

"Hey, Sin, have you seen this?" Sara asked, sidling up next to her best friend as they headed into Starling City High School.

"What?" Sin asked, taking the cell phone from Sara. She glanced down at the open Facebook app. "Captain Cold? Yeah, I've been watching. You like every one of his posts so I was curious. Who is he?"

"No one knows," Sara said, taking her phone back and pulling up his profile. "The only photo is his profile photo with the huge parka and dark goggles. You can barely see his face."

"Maybe that's the point," Sin said. "He leaves that photo up blocking the camera for the live videos on purpose."

"I know, but he's gotta be a student here. He's as much as said so," Sara pointed out. "I'm gonna find him."

"Good luck with that," Sin said.

~~*~~

Everybody knows that the dice are loaded Everybody rolls with their fingers crossed Everybody knows the war is over Everybody knows the good guys lost Everybody knows the fight was fixed The poor stay poor, the rich get rich That's how it goes Everybody knows - Everybody Knows, by Leonard Cohen

Okay, down to business. I got my Black Jack gum here and I got that feeling, mmm that familiar feeling that something rank is going down up there. Yeah, I can smell it. I can almost taste it. The rankness in the air. It's everywhere. It's running through that old pipeline out there, trickling along the dumb concrete river and coming up the drains of those lovely track homes we all live in. I mean, I don't know. Everywhere I look it seems everything is sold out.

My dad sold out. And my mom sold out years ago when she took off after birthing my sister. And then he went and brought us here, to this this shitty corner of the world. He made me everything I am today, so naturally, I hate the bastard.

~~*~~

Laurel Lance sat on her bed, laptop open on her outstretched legs as she watched Captain Cold's live feed. She muted the video as her dad came into the room.

"I don't know how you get perfect grades when you're on that thing all hours of the night." Laurel felt like her smile was more of a grimace. "Don't forget that your Harvard interview is tomorrow. Don't want you looking tired. Good night, Sweetheart."

She kept the smile plastered on her face until her dad had closed her bedroom door before unmuting the video almost violently.

She didn't know why, but this Captain Cold seemed to understand her in a way her father never would.

~~*~~

I'm getting a lot of comments and private messages here. 'Dear Captain Cold, my boyfriend's giving me the cold shoulder. How do I show him that I really love him?' Why do you keep asking me for love advice? Do I seem like I have a lot of experience with relationships? If I had a girlfriend I'd be making out with her instead of talking to all you lonely freaks. 'Dear Captain, I think you're full of crap. High school isn't as bad as you make it out to be. Cheer up, buddy.' Well, you may be one of the few teenagers who doesn't hate high school, but let me tell you something, you're in the minority. You wanna know why I'm not "cheery"? I just got dragged to this dumb city. I don't have any friends, no money of my own, no car, and oh yeah, no license. I don't know what good a license would do since there's nothing to do here anyway.

~~*~~

Leonard Snart hesitantly went up to the librarian's desk in the school library, handing over the book he was returning to the cute blonde girl who was working at the desk.

"Hi," she greeted him.

"Hi," he automatically responded, adjusting his glasses.

"You're in my writing class, right?" she asked.

Leonard really wished the teacher hadn't read from his paper in today's class, drawing this girl's attention to him. Pretty girls like her made him nervous. "Uh huh."

"I like Mrs. Smoak. She's quirky." She turned away to look at his check out slip. "Now you're in trouble!" She paused dramatically. "You owe me twenty-five cents. 'How To Talk Dirty And Influence People' by Lenny Bruce. Who's he? Any good?"

Leonard shifted uncomfortably as he dug a quarter out of his pocket and handed it to her. "He's all right."

"Talk a lot?" Sara teased.

"Not too much, no," Leonard responded, making his retreat.

~~*~~

Sara pulled out a school newspaper with pictures of all the senior class in it as she watched the quiet new guy practically run from the library. She found his photo and circled it, then crossed it out. "Cute, but no way," she mused.

~~*~~

Curtain’s call Is the last of all When the lights fade out All the sinners crawl

So they dug your grave And the masquerade Will come calling out At the mess you've made

Don't wanna let you down But I am hell bound Though this is all for you Don't wanna hide the truth

No matter what we breed We still are made of greed This is my kingdom come This is my kingdom come - Demons, by Imagine Dragons

Guess who? It's ten o'clock; do you care where your parents are? After all, it's a jungle out there. I don't know. Everywhere I look it seems that someone's getting butt surfed by the system. Parents are always talking about the system, and the sixties and how cool it was. I hate the sixties, I hate school, I hate principals, I hate vice principals! But my true pure refined hatred is reserved for guidance counsellors. Captain Cold just happens to have in his very hands a copy of a memo written by Mr. Slade Wilson, guidance counselor extraordinaire to one Miss Amanda Waller, high school principal. "I found Miranda un-remorseful about her current condition." Bastard can't even say she's knocked up. "And she's unwilling to minimize its effect on the morals of the student population." Guidance counsellors! If they knew anything about career moves would they have ended up as guidance counsellors?

~~*~~

Carter Hall was sitting in front of his computer, Captain Cold's livestream open in one window with a blank Word doc open in another.

He hastily muted his computer as his mom knocked on the open door. "Carter have you finished your homework yet?"

"Yes," he somberly answered.

"Your father and I are downstairs, why don't you come and join us for once," she implored.

"No," Carter refused.

"Okay, Carter, have it your way," she said, sadly.

"Thanks," Carter said as she retreated.

Carter unmuted his computer as he typed: Dear Captain Cold, do you think I should kill myself?

~~*~~

I took the pistol and I shot out all the lights I started running in the middle of the night The law ain't never been a friend of mine I would kill again to keep from doing time You should never ever trust my kind

I'm a wanted man I got blood on my hands Do you understand I'm a wanted man - I'm a Wanted Man, by Royal Deluxe

Send me your most pathetic moment, your most anything, as long as it's real. I mean I want the size, the shape, the feel, the smell. I want blood, sweat, and tears in these messages. I want brains and ectoplasm all over them. Hallelujah! And now, all my chilly listeners, get comfy because my White Canary is back. "Come in. Every night you enter me like a criminal. You break into my brain, but you're no ordinary criminal. You put your feet up, you drink your mug of hot chocolate, you start to party, you turn up my stereo. Songs I've never heard, but I move anyway. You get me crazy, I say 'Do it.' I don't care what, just do it. Jam me, jack me, push me, pull me -talk hard!" I like that. Talk Hard. I like the idea that a voice can just go somewhere uninvited and just kind of hang out like a dirty thought in a nice clean mind. To me a thought is like a virus. You know, it can just kill all the healthy thoughts and just take over. That would be serious.

Sara was lying on her bed, listening to Captain Cold read her message for all the world to hear. "That would be totally serious," she agreed.

I know all of my chilly listeners would love it if I would just call up the pretty bird lady. But no! Because she never encloses her number.

Sara laughed. "Tough luck, creepoid."

She's probably a lot like me, a legend in her own mind. But you know what, I bet in real life she's probably not that wild. I bet she's kind of shy like so many of us who briskly walk the halls, pretending to be late for some class, pretending to be distracted. Hey, poetry lady, are you really this cool? Are you out there? Are you listening?

"I'm always out here," Sara promised.

I feel like I know you, and yet… we'll never meet. Ah, so be it. I don't know; drugs are out, sex is out, politics are out, everything is on hold. I mean we definitely need something new. We just keep waiting for some new voice to come out of somewhere and just say, "Hey, wait a minute, what is wrong with this picture?" Well maybe this is the answer to everything, wouldn't that be nice, huh? "Dear Captain Cold, do you think I should kill myself?" Great! Signed, "I'm Serious." And of course there is a number here. Hello, Serious?

Carter Hall took a deep breath and answered his phone. "Yeah?"

"Are you okay?" Captain Cold asked.

"Yep," Carter answered.

"I guess what I'm asking is how serious are you? How are you going to do it?" Captain Cold asked.

"I'm gonna blow my fucking head off," Carter responded.

"Oh! Well, do you have a gun?" Captain Cold asked.

"No, I'm going to use my finger, genius," Carter said, sarcastically.

"All right. So where is this gonna take place, huh?"

"Right here," Carter said.

"Where is this alleged gun? Do you have it with you? Did you at least write a note? You have a reason, don't you? You're not going to be one of those people who kills themselves and nobody has any idea of why they did it? Hey, that's why we need a note, pal!" Captain Cold cajoled.

"I'm all alone," Carter admitted.

"No, hey, look, maybe it's okay to be alone sometimes, everybody's alone," Captain Cold insisted.

"You're not," Carter said.

"I didn't talk to one person today, not- not counting teachers. I sit alone every day you know, sitting in the stairwell eating my lunch, reading a book. What about you?"

Carter hung up the phone. His mind was already made up. He loaded the gun.

I hate that, now I'm depressed. Now I feel like killing myself, but luckily I'm too depressed to bother. Great! Straight to voicemail. Rejected again, that's okay I'm used to it, terminal loneliness. People always think they know who a person is but they're always wrong. Most parents have no idea. It's just that mine had me tested because I sit alone in my room alone, naked, wearing only a cock ring, heh heh! I mean it really bugs me, everyone knows what a person should be, who cares how I should be! You know, in real life I could be that anonymous nerd sitting across from you in Chem. Lab, staring at you so hard, you turn around, he tries to smile, but the smile just comes out all wrong. You just think how pathetic, then he just looks away and never looks back at you again. Well, hey, who cares, that's my motto. Well, sleep tight, Miranda, sleep tight, White Canary, sleep tight, Mr. Serious. Maybe you'll feel better tomorrow.

Sara went to the paper she had taped to the wall of what she knew about Captain Cold so far. She wrote down that he ate lunch on the stairs reading a book.

She had a pretty good idea where to go look now.

~~*~~

Leonard was sitting outside with an open book and his lunch the next day, like he did every day.

The pretty girl from the library skipped down the stairs and stopped in front of him. "Hi, got a stick of gum?" She grabbed the package out of his shirt pocket, triumphantly. "Black Jack! My name's Sara, what's yours?"

"Leonard."

"Leonard," she repeated. "Well, hi, Leonard."

"Hi," Leonard said, marking his place in his book and closing it.

"Listen, I was gonna cut fourth period, do you wanna join me in the art supply room?" Sara asked.

"Er, no, I can't, got to go, sorry," Leonard said, awkwardly getting to his feet and practically running off.

"Sorry!" Sara called after him. "Maybe next time."

~~*~~

Mrs. Smoak was somber as she got the class's attention. "I have some very upsetting news. Last night one of our students, Carter Hall, took his own life. For those of you who knew him, there will be a memorial service at Dempsey Hall on Friday. I know it hurts, it's painful to lose someone."

~~*~~

Leonard found a quiet corner on campus and pulled out his phone. He opened Captain Cold's Facebook account and read the newest message from White Canary aloud, to himself. "You're the voice crying out in the wilderness, you're the voice that makes my brain burn and makes my guts go gooey. Yeah, you gut me, my insides spill out on your altar and tell the future, my steaming gleaming guts spill out your nature. I know you, not your name, but your game. I know the true you, come to me or I'll come to you."

"So you are him," Sara exclaimed from behind Leonard, causing him to jump. "Don't worry I'm not going to bust you or anything. Aren't you going to ask who I am?"

"No, I don't think so. No!" Leonard said.

"I'm the White Canary!" She boasted. "You don't believe me." She grabbed his phone and quoted without looking at the screen, "'I know you, not your name, but your game. I know the true you, come to me or I'll come to you.' Hey, relax, I'm not really like that, except when I am."

Leonard tried to get away from her, still upset from learning about Carter's suicide. "Look, I really can't handle this right now, okay?"

Sara looked at him sympathetically, as if she could read his mind. "Look, it's not your fault. I was listening last night. I didn't think he'd go through with it."

~~*~~

You're free to do what you want You never thought of consequences You created your own little world Where you could always be different

A place where the rules do not apply You could never be denied You took advantage of a good think Now the void you filled is empty

Put the mask back on Put the mask back on Don't take it off 'til everybody's gone

Put the mask back on Put the mask back on No disguise has ever lasted so long - Cover Up, by Trapt

You see I never planned it like this. I set up this account to talk to my old friends, but they didn't know to look for me under this handle. I thought I was talking to nobody. I imagined that nobody was listening. Maybe I imagined one person out there. Anyway one day I woke up and I realized I was never going to be normal and so I said fuck it, I said so be it and Captain Cold was born. I never meant to hurt anyone, honestly, I never meant to hurt anyone. I'm sorry, Carter. I never said, "Don't do it." I'm sorry. Um, anyway I'm done, stick a fork in me it's been grand. This is Captain Cold saying sayonara, over and out.

Sara sat staring at her computer as the video ended. "Come on, you can't do this," she told the screen.

Laurel shook her phone in the bedroom next to Sara's. "This is a joke right?"

"C'mon, Captain baby, don't stiff," Mick, Sin's boyfriend, complained as they watched together.

Leonard Snart paced around his bedroom, staring at his computer equipment. "What am I doing? Fuck It!" He sat back down and queued up a new video session.

You hear about some kid who did something stupid, something desperate. What possessed him? How could he do such a terrible thing? It's really quite simple, actually. Consider the life of a teenager. You have parents and teachers telling you what to do. You have movies, magazines, and TV telling you what to do. But you know what you have to do. Your job, your purpose, is to get accepted, get a cute girlfriend, and think up something great to do with the rest of your life. What if you're confused and can't imagine a career? What if you're funny looking and you can't get a girlfriend? You see no one wants to hear it, but the terrible secret is that being young is sometimes less fun than being dead.

"This is great, he's making it worse," the reporter commented to his cameraman outside the high school the kid who'd killed himself had attended. Whoever this guy was behind the parka and goggles, he'd made an impression. Whether that impression was good or bad, remained to be seen. What would get better ratings?

Suicide is wrong, but the interesting thing about it is how uncomplicated it seems. There you are, you got all these problems swarming around your brain, and here is one simple, one incredibly simple solution. I'm just surprised it doesn't happen every day around here. Now, now they're going to say I said offing yourself is simple, but no, no, no, no, it's not simple. It's like everything else, you have to read the fine print. For instance, assuming there is a heaven who would ever wanna go there, you know? I mean think about it, sitting on this cloud, you know it's nice, it's quiet, there's no teachers, there's no parents, but guess what? There's nothing to do! Fucking boring. Another thing to remember about suicide is that it is not a pretty picture. First of all, you shit your shorts, you know. So, there you are, dead, people are weeping over you, crying, girls you never spoke to are saying, "Why? Why? Why?" and you have a load in your shorts! That's the way I see it. Sue me. Now, they're saying I shouldn't think stuff like this. They're saying something is wrong with me, that I should be ashamed. Well, I'm sick of being ashamed. Aren't you?

"Sick to death!" Laurel agreed.

I don't mind being dejected and rejected, but I'm not going to be ashamed about it.

"Hallelujah," Sara called out.

At least pain is real. You look around and you see nothing is real, but the pain is real. You know, even this show isn't real. This isn't me; I'm using a voice disguiser. I'm a phony fuck just like my dad, just like anybody. You see, the real me is just as worried as the rest of you. They say I'm disturbed, well, of course, I'm disturbed. I mean we're all disturbed, and if we're not, why not? Doesn't this blend of blindness and blandness want to make you do something crazy? Then why not do something crazy? It makes a hell of a lot more sense than blowing your fucking brains out, you know. Go nuts, go crazy, get creative! You got problems? You just chuck 'em, nuke 'em! They think you're moody? Make 'em think you're crazy, make 'em think you might snap! They think you got attitude? You show 'em some real attitude! Come on, go nuts, get crazy. Hey no more Mr. Nice Guy! Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, oh god!! ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, oh yes.

We're all excited But we don't know why Maybe it's cause We're all gonna die

And when we do (When we do) What's it all for (What's it all for) You better live now Before the grim reaper come knocking on your door

Tell me, are we gonna let de-elevator bring us down? Oh, no let's go!

Let's go crazy Let's get nuts Look for the purple banana Until they put us in the truck, let's go! - Let’s Go Crazy, by Prince

~~*~~

Laurel Lance took Captain Cold's words to heart. She grabbed her ribbons and trophies - symbols of her academic achievement, of her so-called perfect life, and carried them down to the kitchen where she stuffed them in the microwave. Just before she slammed the door closed, she ripped off her stupid pearls and tossed them in, too. She punched something into the timer and watched in fascination as the items slowly spun around until the microwave exploded, spitting debris hit her in the face, knocking her out.

The explosion drew Sara out of her bedroom and down the stairs where she found her sister unconscious on the floor. She looked around, bewildered, until she saw the microwave and she burst out laughing.

"You tell 'em, Captain Cold," she muttered, reaching for her phone to call an ambulance.

~~*~~

The next day, Leonard watched as students rearranged the cards on the notice boards to spell out STAY COLD and hung signs that said THE TRUTH IS A VIRUS. Some of the teachers were running around freaking out, trying to get it all down. Others thought it was about time someone made a stand.

Sara tracked down Leonard and got him alone in the art room. "So, I don't know if you know this, but my sister is the perfect Laurel Lance." Leonard shook his head to indicate that he had not known this. "So, last night she burned up all her shit right after you suggested it, in our kitchen! Oh, her precious pearls were flying like bullets. Dad was un-thrilled."

Leonard ran a hand over his closely shorn hair. "This is out of control."

"Yeess!" Sara emphatically agreed, grinning maniacally.

"That's it, it's over. I just hope it isn't too late," Leonard said.

"Leonard!" Sara called after him as he ran away, again.

"Just leave me alone, okay, please?" he called back over his shoulder.

~~*~~

Leonard allowed his dad to drag him to the PTA meeting at the school. He slumped down in his chair as Principal Waller tried to conduct regular business when all the parents wanted to do was talk about him. Well, Captain Cold. He sat up straighter as Laurel Lance walked up on the dais.

"My name is Laurel Lance and I have something to say to you people. People are saying that Captain Cold is introducing bad things and encouraging bad things. But it seems to me that these things were already here. My god, why don't you people listen? He's trying to tell you something is wrong with this school. Half the people that are here are on a probation of some kind. We are all really scared to be who we really are. I am not perfect. I've just been going through the motions of being perfect, and inside I'm screaming."

"Laurel, you were a model student," Waller said, disappointment evident in her voice.

Leonard made a hasty retreat after Laurel left. This was all getting to be too much.

~~*~~

Leonard stood leaning against the wall outside the sliding door of his basement bedroom, deleting messages for Captain Cold on his phone.

"Hi! What are you doing? You having fun?" Sara asked as she approached him.

"Yeah," Leonard said, absently.

"Hey, look, I took some of these off the wall for you. I mistakenly thought you might want them," she said, thrusting some handmade signs at him.

"Thanks," Leonard said, letting them fall to the ground.

"So I guess you're not going on tonight," Sara commented after a few minutes of silence.

"Brilliant," Leonard drawled, pushing off the wall and going back into his room.

Sara huffed, following him. "Is this all just a game to you? You know you can't just shout 'fire' in a theatre and then walk out. You have a responsibility for the people who believe in you. What is this? C'mon say something, say anything. Open your mouth and say, 'Get the hell out of here bitch.'"

"I can't," Leonard said.

"You can't what?" Sara demanded.

"I can't talk," Leonard ground out.

Sara snorted. "Sure you can talk."

"I can't talk to you," he clarified. He let out a noise of frustration as he sat in front of his computer, put on his headset, and opened Facebook.

I got a message from this guy who's got a problem, he can't talk. I mean he can talk, but never when he wants to, not to girls, not to people. He just opened up his mouth and nothing came out. And this jerk finds somebody that he likes, which is probably the worst thing to happen to a person who can't talk. So, I don't know what to tell this guy because lately every time I give out advice the fit hits the shan. So, I don't know, maybe the best thing to do is just turn around and face the music and try to talk.

Leonard turned around to talk to Sara but she's gone.

"Leo," Lewis called, knocking on the door.

"Coming," Leonard called back, pausing the video and turning off the monitor.

"Leo, it's just me. I wanna come in for a minute," Lewis said, turning the locked doorknob.

"Yeah, just give me a second here, two seconds," Leonard said, taking off the headset and hiding it under a dirty tee-shirt.

"Open the goddamn door," Lewis shouted.

"On my way," Leonard said, checking the room one last time before yanking the door open.

"I have been out there for two minutes, what the hell are you doing in here?" Lewis demanded, looking for evidence of drugs or alcohol. Or a Facebook video.

"I was just reading," Leonard said, gesturing to the book on his desk.

"Oh c'mon, Leo, I heard you. I heard you talking," Lewis said.

"I was reading aloud," Leonard quickly said.

"Oh c'mon, do you really expect me to believe that?"

"Okay, I'll tell you the truth," Leonard said, not sure what he was going to say.

"He was talking to me," Sara said, popping up from behind the loveseat. "Hi, I'm Sara Lance."

"Nice to meet you," Lewis said, stunned. "How do you do?"

"I was afraid you would be mad at me for disturbing Leonard's homework," Sara said.

"You don't know how happy I am to meet you," Lewis said, looking at his son with new appreciation.

"Listen, I've got to go, but it was really nice to have met you. Bye, Leonard," Sara said, taking a step towards the sliding door.

"No, you don't have to go. Leo, she doesn't have to go," Lewis said.

"Bye now, see you tomorrow," Sara said with a wink to Leonard as she slipped outside.

"You've been a bad dog, haven't you?" Lewis said, punching his son lightly on the arm. "You know, for a second there I thought you were that crazy Facebook character they've been talking about on the news."

"Maybe he's not that crazy, Dad," Leonard suggested.

"Right! Very funny. Go get her, go on. That's my idea of homework," Lewis cajoled.

After his dad left, Leonard got his microphone back on and resumed his session.

Sorry about that, folks, technical difficulties. Let's see who we have out there tonight. The usual band of teenage malcontents. I certainly hope so, because Captain Cold is feeling kind of rude tonight.

~~*~~

Let's go out in flames so everyone knows who we are 'Cause these city walls never knew that we'd make it this far We've become echoes, but echoes are fading away So let's dance like two shadows, burning out a glory day

Devil's on your shoulder Strangers in your head As if you don't remember As if you can forget It's only been a moment It's only been a lifetime But tonight you're a stranger Some silhouette - Silhouette, by Aquilo

After Leonard put on the song he went outside to get some air. It had been a surreal night so far. He'd called Mr. Wilson again and was informed that his phone was being traced. Too bad for the cops that it was a burner phone. They could triangulate his signal, but not to his specific address, especially once he removed the battery and sim card from the phone.

He wasn't surprised that Sara was out there, listening to his cast on her phone.

"It's okay, you don't have to talk, you don't have to say anything and you don't have to do anything, unless you want to," she said, approaching him slowly.

"You're so different," Leonard said. "I mean, you're so fearless. I wish I could be like you."

"You are," Sara said, stepping close to him. They're so close but still not touching. Swaying together in the warm breeze. Almost dancing.

"I wish I could say things to you," Leonard said, raising a hand to hover over her cheek before lowering it.

"You do," Sara said, so earnestly. She grabbed his hand and placed it over her heart.

"Everything's so strange," Leonard whispered, his fingers flexing against her shirt.

"Yeah," Sara agreed, her breath hitching at their nearness.

"Maybe we're just crazy," Leonard said, meeting her eyes.

"So be it," Sara said, rising on her toes and pressing her lips to his.

Leonard wrapped his free arm around her back, pulling Sara closer as she wound her arms around his neck. The kiss was clumsy, messy, all teeth and hard lips, but neither cared. They paused, panting for breath before coming together again in a much more satisfying kiss.

"So be it," Leonard whispered against her lips.

The End

#captain canary #captain canary fic #legends of tomorrow fic #sara lance/leonard snart #pump up the volume #movie au #ficcingcaptaincanary

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