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heyhey-heyward · 4 years ago

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NO I DON’T | part two

series masterlist

summary: In which you realize that maybe you have feelings.

word count: 2.7k

let me know what you think!

The next morning found Kiara at your house as you got ready, waiting for John B to pick you both up in his van for the day's adventures. She was laying on your bed, scrolling through her phone as you bounced around to get dressed.

“Oh my god, did I tell you what John B asked me last night?” You stepped out of your closet once you finished getting changed out of your pajamas and looked at Kiara, who shook her head. “He asked me if I had a thing for JJ.”

“Well?” She looked at you expectantly, and you furrowed your brows.

“Well, what?” You repeated, confusion evident in your tone. She scoffed, the grin she was wearing a bit too smug for your liking.

“Do you have a thing for him?” From her tone, it was clear that she thought her question was obvious. Suddenly, the looks she had been sending you over the past couple of days made sense.

“Not you too.” You groaned, dropping your head back in annoyance as you picked up your backpack that held everything you needed for the day. Kiara chuckled at your reaction, climbing off your bed to follow you as you moved to go wait for the boys downstairs. “I promise, there is nothing going on between JJ and I.”

“If you say so.” She shrugged, echoing John B’s statement from the night before. You could tell by her tone and grin that she clearly wasn’t convinced, though you chose not to respond, dropping the subject completely when you entered the kitchen and spotted your mom drinking coffee at the island table.

“Hello, girls.” Your mom greeted you both with a smile. “Have you gotten your Midsummers dresses yet?” Since your parents had grown up on The Cut, they were eager to take part in any events that solidified their Kook status. You, on the other hand, couldn’t care less.

“No, but I was thinking of going tomorrow.” Kiara explained with a smile. What she didn’t say was that she waited so long to get a dress because, just like you, she thought the whole event was ridiculous.

“I’ll go with her.” You told your mom, knowing that was going to be her next question. Shopping with Kiara would mean one less headache and you would be able to enjoy yourself.

“And have you thought about having someone escort you?” She wasn’t being controlling, you could tell from the smile she was wearing that she was simply genuinely curious. Just as you were grabbing a couple granola bars out of the pantry, a familiar honk sounded from the driveway and you knew it was your chance to escape.

“Bye mom!” You called, grabbing Kiara’s arm and racing out of the house. John B’s van was parked exactly where you knew it would be, with Pope in the passenger’s seat and JJ’s head sticking out the sliding door. You climbed in with Kiara in tow, the dark haired girl was grinning mischievously at you.

“Yeah, are you going to have someone escort you?” She teased, reaching out to pinch your cheeks as you slumped into the spot next to JJ. His arm found its way around your shoulders like it usually did, and he was looking between you and Kiara with a confused look.

“Shut up, Kie. I’d rather choke than go with some stuck up Kook.” You rolled your eyes, leaning further into JJ to get away from her. She grinned, settling into her spot across from you as John B pulled out of the driveway.

“Are you talking about Midsummers?” Pope asked over his shoulder. You nodded, rubbing your cheeks that stung a bit from where Kiara pinched them. “I’m supposed to work it with my dad.”

“When is it again?” John B asked. The boys looked to you and Kiara for answers, wondering when their group of five would be knocked down to two.

“It’s in three days, and we have to go dress shopping tomorrow.” Kiara explained as you picked at your nails, clearly bored with the conversation. You felt JJ shift from beside you, drawing your attention and when you met his gaze he was frowning.

“We were supposed to watch C.H.U.D. that night though.” He pouted, and even though he was the best liar of the group, you could see the mischief in his eyes. He wasn’t actually upset, but he would never be one to pass up the chance to tease. You shoved his shoulder playfully while still grinning at his antics.

“Sorry I’ve got to bail on you, we can hang out another time.” You assured him, turning to John B to ask him where he was taking everyone, but you didn’t get the chance to say anything before Kiara spoke up.

“Why don’t you just go to Midsummers with her?” Her question was innocent enough, but coupled with the conversation you had with her minutes earlier, you shot her an exasperated look. Though, the idea of having JJ with you at the event had you significantly more excited for the night. He would be able to make the stuffiest Kook party actually enjoyable.

“Yeah, J, I’ll even rent you a suit and everything. And Kie could bring JB. It’ll be a Pogue takeover.” You nudge him with your elbow, earning a grin from the blonde. The look he gave you, for some unknown reason, sent a shock through your system. You had always known he was attractive, but the sight of his dimple and the lightness in his eyes caught you off guard.

“Maybe I will.” JJ announced, pulling you tighter into his side as he switched his attention to the other three people in the car. John B echoed his sentiment, and as JJ leaned towards the front to make some joke about how Pope was going to have to serve him, Kiara shot you a self-satisfied look that made you roll your eyes.

“John B, where are we even going?” You called, your voice loud enough to carry over JJ and Pope’s back and forth bickering. You met the brunette’s gaze through the rearview mirror, noting the mischievous gaze that told you that he was up to something.

“We’re having a kegger tonight.”

A few hours and one free lunch from Kiara’s family restaurant The Wreck later, John B dropped you and JJ off at the store to pick up some last minute items for the party.

“I can’t believe I got put on cup duty.” JJ complained, grabbing the large package of red solo cups off of the shelf. You rolled your eyes, grabbing an extra pack to make sure there was enough.

“I’m on babysitting duty, so it could be worse.” You teased, ruffling his hair as you flashed him a grin and walked ahead of him.

“Oh, so we’re being mean now, are we?” He called, trailing after you. You could hear the smile in his voice, and when you glanced at him over your shoulder your suspicions were proven true. You nodded at his statement, only realizing your mistake seconds later when his arms came around your middle and he spun you around, fingers digging into your sides to tickle you.

You didn’t hear the cups hit the ground as you both dropped what you were carrying over the sound of your laughter. JJ’s arms were around you, keeping your back pressed to his chest as you tried to squirm out of his hold. Eventually he dropped you, and you immediately spun to face him, swatting his shoulder as he laughed loudly and you tried to catch your breath.

And then it hit you.

A stampede of butterflies fluttered in your stomach as you watched JJ giggle uncontrollably at his own actions. Your whole body felt warm, and everywhere JJ had just been touching you was tingling. It was as if everything you had ever known was coming into question and you weren’t sure you would be able to tell up from down. But worst of all—John B was right.

You had a thing for JJ.

You were dragged out of your thoughts by JJ waving his hand in front of your face, calling your name. You forced a smile, embarrassed that you had been caught zoning out as you thought about how you could have gone so long without realizing your feelings for one of your closest friends.

“You good?” JJ asked, picking up the cups from the ground. You nodded, clearing your throat as you made a bee-line for the cashier. The old man working the register shot you an annoyed look, clearly not the happiest with the fact that you had been so noisy just moments before.

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine.” You said, way too quickly for you to be actually fine. You could tell JJ wasn’t convinced, but he kept his mouth shut as you paid and he followed you out of the store with the cups in hand. Originally, the plan had been for JJ to come to your house and hang out for a while, but at the moment all you needed was to put some distance between yourself and the blonde haired boy who’s gaze was making it hard for you to breathe properly. “Actually, I just remembered that I promised my parents I’d help them with something today, so I’ve got to head back.”

“Do you want me to help too?” He asked, and you silently cursed him for being such a kind person. You probably wouldn’t be in this mess if he wasn’t such a secret softie towards his friends. Plastering on the biggest smile you could muster you chuckled, internally cringing at the sheer awkwardness of it all.

“Is JJ Maybank offering to work?” You teased, ignoring the confused look he gave you or the way your voice was a few octaves too high to be normal. You started to walk backwards in the direction of your house, shooting him one last wave. “I’ll see you at the party.”

If this was how you were going to act around him from now on—you were in trouble.

You arrived at The Boneyard that night after the party had already started and Pogues, Kooks, and Tourons alike were already drinking. After your little freakout at your house, you had calmed down significantly and convinced yourself that you’d be able to act normally around JJ, because it was just JJ, one of your best friends since the third grade when John B introduced the two of you.

You spotted your group of friends sitting around one of the many small bonfires that littered the small stretch of beach dedicated to parties. You head towards them instead of the keg, not wanting to deal with the group of Kooks that currently surrounded it. You swung an arm around Pope’s shoulders as you dropped into the spot on the log beside him, interrupting his story about something his dad had told him as a cheer of your name sounded from the group. You smiled at them, ignoring the way your heart skipped a beat as your gaze momentarily landed on JJ.

“Where have you been? I thought you weren’t going to show.” John B teased with a grin. You went to give him some comeback about how you weren’t sure you would have been able to stomach one more party with him, but JJ’s voice added onto the brunette’s comment.

“Yeah, after you freaked out and bailed on me this afternoon.” He remarked, punctuating his sentence with a drag of the blunt he had rolled for the party. You felt your smile morph into a grimace, and to avoid meeting anyone’s questioning looks, you stared into the fire.

“My mom has been freaking out about Midsummers, she wanted me to help her pick out a dress today.” You lied. It was clear that something was up, but nobody questioned you as John B rose from his seat, extending a hand to pull you to your feet.

“Come on, let’s get you a drink.” He explained, leading you through the crowd and towards the now-empty keg. “So are you going to tell me what’s really going on? Because I’ve already seen the dress your mom picked out for Midsummers, like, two weeks ago.”

You cringed, embarrassed to be caught in a lie. Your silence must have told John B all that he needed to know, because it was seconds later that his grin widened and he was laughing at you.

“Oh my god, you do have a thing for him!” John B called out, much too loudly for your liking. You shot forward, slapping a hand over his mouth to keep him quiet. He leaned back out of your touch, shooting you a grin as he finally moved to fill a cup for you. “I knew it. So, what happened? JJ didn’t say anything—”

“Nothing happened, John B! I just kinda, freaked out and left.” You sighed exasperatedly, tilting your head back in annoyance. You knew nothing would stop him from teasing you, you certainly wouldn’t hold back if you were in his position, but he also wouldn’t cross any lines.

Still, he wasn’t the best secret keeper once he had a few drinks in him.

Your solution to your John B problem had been to stick by his side the entire night. It wasn’t far from what you usually did at parties, but you also had been avoiding JJ as best you could—which, you couldn’t remember the last time you put so much distance between yourself and the blonde.

A few refills later and you were feeling loose, your mind able to wander other places instead of being stuck on the fear that JJ might find out how you felt. You had been messing around with John B, and somehow had ended up climbing onto his back.

“JB, I swear, if you drop me…” Your threat was empty as you trailed off, earning a loud laugh from John B.

“You’re the one that asked for a piggy back ride.” He teased, and you shut him up by holding your cup up to his lips to give him a sip. He went back to his conversation with Pope and Kiara after, and you zoned out as you felt a pair of eyes on you. Glancing up, you found JJ staring at you and John B with an annoyed expression, not giving the time of day to the Touron that was clearly trying to flirt with him.

You furrowed your brows in confusion, wondering what could have upset him. You entertained the idea that it was because you were ignoring him, and that made a heavy weight settle in your stomach.

“I’ll be right back.” You told John B, interrupting whatever story he was telling. You pressed a quick kiss to his cheek before he set you on your feet, and you made your way through the crowd to where JJ was standing. His expression only seemed to get more sour, and you briefly contemplated turning back. You steeled your nerves and ignored the fluttering in your chest as you stood before him. “Hey, are you all right?”

“‘M fine.” He grunted, even less convincing than you had been earlier. And while you had lied because you were overwhelmed with a slew of new feelings towards one of your closest friends, he was lying because something was making him mad.

“J, what’s wrong?” You continued. Usually, you were pretty good at reading what upset JJ, from Kooks to his father, you knew him well. This time, it was as if there was a wall between you and him and you weren’t sure why he had built it up.

“Why don’t you go back to John B?” JJ wasn’t even looking at you as he spoke, his gaze trained on the cup he was squeezing too tight to be normal. You were shocked at the accusation he was making, that there was something going on between you and your oldest friend. You huffed, annoyed that he was being so difficult. You would have corrected him, but you had a stubborn streak as well, and just wanted to enjoy the party. So instead, you dished out the attitude that he gave you, before turning back to where John B, Kiara, and Pope were waiting for you.

“Get over yourself, JJ.”

—

taglist:

@pixelated-pogues @obx-direction-sos @emptycanvasposts @rudethchalamet @drizzlethatfalls @obxlife @fangirlvoice @jayjaymaebank @k-k0129 @starryblueeyesandstarryblueskies @perfektionsmakel @teamnick @sspidermanss @jjs-housekeeping

(names with a strikethrough did not work)

#jj maybank #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x reader #outer banks #outer banks imagine #outer banks x reader #no I don't #jj maybank series

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purplebyul · 5 years ago

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Sunshine and clouds.

teacher AU. Prompt: “the nice one who everybody loves with the grumpy one. and their student are just like???? how??? what the fuck???”

Or : “Mr.Demaury teaches a class of very noisy third years.” (ao3)

September, a new school year begins. Lea and her friends are in their last year of high school and, like every start of the year, they’re all motivated. For now. This year is the last, I’m gonna make it the best one, with a perfect score on all my exams and tests, be nice to everyone, etc. Every student says that, but, like their new year’s resolutions, they won’t keep it.

The first hour on the first day, they’re all seated in a classroom looking at their schedule while the teacher goes on about god knows what. Because the most important thing is between their hands right now: their schedule. Suddenly, she’s hit by her friend Amalie, whisper-shouting her name.

«Lea! Looks who’s our literature teacher !»

« Oh my god yes! I can’t wait to have classes again with him !»

« And we all know why, hmm girl?» Adds Jérôme, one of her friends too.

« Shut it Jéjé, as if you’re not drooling all over the guy too, you useless gay.» And that’s Anthony for you.

They’re still bickering when Emma, a nice girl who joined their little group recently, takes a grave voice «Oh no…»

« What is it, Emma?»

« Look at our bio teacher…»

And if it isn’t the most terrifying sentence they’ve ever heard. Because, in this beautiful Parisian school, there is only one teacher that can make your skin crawl just by seeing their name on your timetable.

« We’re fucked.»

Today is supposed to be a good day. No bio class, only literature, math, and English. All the teachers in this course are nice, so it’s good. And it’s sunny, which is very rare for Paris in September - thanks to climate change - so really, what could go wrong?

When Lea gets inside her literature classroom, she is so not ready to see her most hated teacher here, talking to her favourite teacher of all time. Mr. Demaury, known as Sunshine, is sitting on his desk, smiling brightly - real-life sunshine, they’re not joking - while looking at Mr. Lallemant, or the worst teacher ever.

Well, he’s not the worst teacher, quite the contrary actually. His classes are never boring, he teaches them well and gives good explanations, taking the time to explain when they don’t understand. But it always comes with a snarky remark. And he’s always grumpy, smiles rarely and he is not very patient. Yes, he explains when you don’t understand, but not before sighing for two minutes straight. Ok maybe not two minutes, but he never tries to hide how judging he is of his class.

They both turn their heads towards Lea when she enters and Mr. Demaury’s smile dim a little. Mr. Lallemant clears his throat, throwing a «See you later.» to the other teacher before going out. Mr. Demaury looks after him, always smiling, before turning his head toward Lea when she sits down. He sits back at his desk, opening a little notebook while every other student comes in, one by one. Emma sits next to her and soon enough, the whole room is full but it’s not like in Mr. Lallemant’s class, oh no. Here, everybody is waiting for Mr. Demaury to say something because, well. He has a nice voice. And he is nice. And pretty. And smiley. And pretty.

« Good morning everyone !»

A chorus of good mornings answers him and if it’s possible, Mr. Demaury’s smile gets bigger. Not quite as big as the one he had when Mr. Lallemant was here though. Which makes Lea wonders a little: what could her bio teacher have said to make the other one smile so bright? She doesn’t have time to dwell on it because soon enough, Mr. Demaury’s voice rings clear as a bell in the classroom.

« First of all, I hope you all had a good summer vacation. And-»

« We hope your vacation was nice too, sir!»

«Oh, thank you. It was nice, I had a lot of fun.»

« What did you do for your vacation, Mr. Demaury?»

« Yes, what did you do ?»

A nice blush colours their teacher’s cheeks at this moment and he rubs his fingertips on his lips. It's a nervous habit he has that makes everybody fall more in love with him.

« Hm, well. I went to my partner’s family in the south of France, so we had a nice beach vacation. And then we went to visit some friends in Oslo.»

If you listen close enough, half of the students in this room had their hearts broken by a single word in this sentence.

« Wait, you’re in a relationship ?!»

Lea is too shocked to say something, while Emma is shaking her like she’s trying to get gold coins out of her. Soon, they’re whispering.

« Did you know he had someone?»

«I’m making the same fish out of its tank face as you! Of course, I didn’t know!»

«Of course he’s not single, have you seen his face?»

« Shut up Anthony, a girl can dream!»

« Ugh, gross. He’s ten whole years older than you.»

«Perfect opportunity to call him daddy.»

«Jérôme!!» Anthony says before hitting him upside the head.

Their bickering stops when they hear Mr. Demaury clearing his throat. He’s still as red as he was a minute ago when Jérôme asked if he was in a relationship.

« It’s none of your business but yes, I am in a relationship. Have been since I was your age, actually.»

At that, the whole class gasps and some aww-ed out loud.

« But that’s not what this class is about!» Mr. Demaury says, trying to regain composure. But everybody in the room can see that a smile is making his lips twitch and the blush on his face. «Anyway, back to what I first wanted to say!»

And even though they try to get back to the subject of their favourite teacher’s relationship, Mr. Demaury doesn’t let them do it. After twenty minutes, they stop trying. Mostly because he threatened to give them a paper to do for next week if they didn’t stop.

The first week of their new high school year has gone by smoothly, until now. It’s 7.40 a.m and their first class is with Mr. Lallemant. To say that everyone is scared of what will happen is an understatement.

When they arrived, Mr. Lallemant was already here, going over a huge pile of papers while drinking his morning coffee. Nobody greeted him when they entered, but neither did he, keeping his eyes focused on his lesson.

But once the clock hit exactly 8a.m, Mr. Lallemant stands up and everyone sucks in a breath.

« Good morning everyone.» Nobody answers. « I know you don’t like bio, even though you enrolled in the scientific course for your last year, too bad for you. But please, do take part in class, get your homework done and study for the tests, because many are coming your way. If you do that, everything will go smoothly and you’ll hopefully go to college or do whatever it is you wanna do. I don’t care as long as you’re out of this class. Science is something you have to know by heart, so that's not as complicated as literature, where you have to invent some bullshit to have a passing grade. Is it clear?» Nobody answers, a couple of them mumbling a little «yes» but not looking up from their desks. Mr. Lallemant sighs and seems tired of his students' silence. « Great. Let’s get to it then.»

« Oh my god, how is it that you can forget something so easy in only two months? Come on man, it’s not that hard. Think.»

« Ok, since you can’t answer, does anybody here can help her? Anybody that isn’t me, I’m the teacher here I shouldn’t have to answer.»

« When you can’t fucking throw something from your chair into the bin, you pick your ass up and go to the bin to throw it in, Anthony. It’s not a hard concept for god’s sake.»

« You know what? You all seem so eager to leave so please do, I’m tired of seeing your faces for today.»

To say their first class of three hours with Mr. Lallemant was hell is, as usual, an understatement.

After learning that their favourite teacher is in a happy relationship, and has been for a long time, they all decided to make a deal. Every time they’ll have a class with Mr. Demaury. They’ll ask him a question about his relationship before the class starts. And so, when the second class of the trimester arrived, they all are a nervous mess.

Mr. Demaury arrives in class and everybody is already seated. He greets them with a beautiful smile and a cheerful «Hello you all!» before losing his jacket - making a few girls giggle behind Lea, which in turn makes Emma roll her eyes at them.

Nobody dares to be the first one to ask the question. So, once Mr. Demaury is about to speak again and start their lesson, Lea doesn’t think twice before raising her hand. Mr. Demaury stops in his tracks and looks at her, raising an eyebrow in question.

« Yes, Lea ?»

« Sir, I was wondering,» she takes in a big breath while Jérôme whispers encouraging words to her, « where did you meet your lover ?»

It says on Mr. Demaury's face that he wasn’t ready for this kind of question. An adorable blush is making its way on his face, up to his ears. He clears his throat, before grabbing his book and turning towards the board.

« That’s not class-related Lea, I’m sorry I can’t answer.»

They all groans but before they can say anything, Mr. Demaury raises his voice and starts the lesson of the day.

They’ll get more info one day.

The next time they try it, it was with an innocent question. A simple « Where was your first date ?». It earned them a « That’s not in the theme of our lesson here, Anthony.».

« But sir we’re talking about Romeo & Juliet here, we’re talking about love!»

« Anyway, back to Romeo & Juliet and the meaning behind their first time as lovers.»

And after that, every time they tried asking something, Mr. Demaury would straight up ignore them or answer with something else: « So this summer you met their parents? » « The beach was nice, if you have to visit the south of France, I recommend Nice. »

« Are they romantic with you? Do they treat you right? » « Yes, my lunch was good, thank you for asking. »

« Is it a he or a she ? » which earned Jérôme another slap to the back of his head from Anthony. And earned them a « My sexuality is none of your business. », said with the most beautiful smile, which threw them out of a loop.

Then the questions got a bit more personal, they were trying hard to guess the identity of this person. But again, Mr. Demaury never answered any of them. « Do we know them, is that why you don’t want to tell us?»; « Are they taller or smaller than you? »; « What’s the first letter of their name, please!»; « Or at least their last name? »

They would have stopped if Mr. Demaury seemed bothered by it. But every time they asked something, a smile etched itself on his face. Probably because he was thinking about his lover. But damn, he would never give them even a hint and they were frustrated. And thus was born the plan: stalk Mr. Demaury between classes.

« I don’t get why we have to follow him during his lunch break! He’s just going to eat!»

« Shut up Jérôme!»

« But it’s not gonna give us any clue on who his lover is!»

«You don’t know that! Maybe he’ll talk about his lover with someone!»

« Shhh !! He’s right here !»

They all quiet down at that. Hiding behind a wall next to the teacher’s lounge, they have a full view inside it. And here he is, Mr. Demaury, sitting in front of Mr. Lallemant. It startles them at first. Because how can a ray of sunshine like Mr. Demaury talk to a person like Mr. Lallemant? They’re the total opposite of each other!

Mr. Demaury is talking animatedly while Mr. Lallemant stuffs pasta in his mouth when his eyes make direct contact with Lea’s one.

« Shit!! We made eye contact!»

All of a sudden, Mr. Demaury isn’t speaking anymore. He puts his forks down and turns his face toward where the little group is. His face hardens and he gives them the most murderous stare they’ve ever seen on someone. A second later, they’re all running the opposite way.

« I told you it was no use! We didn’t learn anything!

« And now he hates us !»

« Shut up! I didn’t know that's how boring his lunch break was! »

Let’s say that their afternoon class with Mr. Demaury was the worst one they had. Every time he looked at them, his stare would be cold. Fortunately, it lasted only for a day. Next week, he was back in his sunshine mode.

It’s now the beginning of December and in two weeks, their winter holidays start. Since the start of the year, they kept asking Mr. Demaury questions about his lover, but to no avail. Still, they try. With no luck.

They were hyped, their heads full of new ideas to get Mr. Demaury to confess at least the first letter of his lover’s name. But that was before their class with Mr. Lallemant. He was in a particularly foul mood today, has been for the whole year really, but today was worse than anything they’ve ever experienced. Usually, he makes snarky remarks, says something rude and in general, he’s just mean to them. But nothing they can’t handle. But today, when they entered the room, Mr. Lallemant was staring out of the window, as if…empty.

Once everyone was at their desks, he stood up and spoke with the deadliest voice they’ve ever heard.

« So, I graded your test and I don’t get how you can fail so much on something we’ve spent two months on.»

They all winced, but Mr. Lallemant was not finished.

« No, really. I’m impressed by your stupidity. You chose the S course, but you make no effort to work for it. I know bio isn’t the most interesting for you, maybe you’re more into math or geometry or whatever, but do you think you’re gonna get your Bac with grades like the one I have here? Guess what, you won’t. The higher-grade? Twelve. Freaking twelve. I’ve never had third years like you before. You’re all gonna fail, but I did my job. I really don’t get how you can fail like that.»

After that whole speech, let’s say that their spirits were crushed. Lea was the highest score of the class, but she didn’t feel proud. She was mostly angry about what Mr. Lallemant said as if they were stupid. Like a typical student feel when a teacher tells them to work more, really.

So, when Mr. Lallemant dismissed the class and they headed towards Mr. Demaury’s one, nobody was in a happy mood. But at least, they were about to see his sunshine smile and maybe, that would make their day a little bit brighter.

When they entered the room, Mr. Demaury was already writing something on the board. He turned to greet them but quickly stopped when he saw their faces. He waited until everyone was at their desk, sitting on top of his, before speaking.

« What’s happening, guys? Looks like everybody’s pet just died.»

« No, we just got out of one of Mr. Lallemant’s class.»

« … And ?»

« We don’t like him. He’s always so mean to us. It was worse today.» A chorus of «yes», «that’s true» echoes in the room and Mr. Demaury looks pained. Perhaps even shocked.

« Why was it worse ?»

« He basically told us we were stupid because of our new grades.»

«Yes! He said we were gonna fail and that he’s never seen third years as stupid as us.»

Mr. Demaury crosses his arms and sighs, rubbing his face quickly.

« Ok guys. I’m going to talk to you about something personal, so listen up.»

They were all complaining about Mr. Lallemant, some of them calling him names, but they stopped after what their teacher said, now giving him their full attention.

« First of all, we’re humans, like you. Us too, we get our bad day. And sometimes we don’t want to get out of bed to teach a bunch of children who couldn’t care less about what we say.»

« But your class is always good sir! We always listen to you!»

« Yes, but not to Mr. Lallemant.» they’re now all silent, some of them even looking down at their feet. « You know, Mr. Lallemant and I have been friends for a very long time. He tells me stuff. About how you act in his class. About how you stay quiet and never participate. You never answer his questions and not even to his good mornings. Imagine, working somewhere for many years and none of your students greeting you? Would you like that if I came in and never answered your hellos ?»

Nobody dares to look at Mr. Demaury now. Mostly because of what he’s saying and that they’re ashamed of themselves. But also because it sounds like Mr. Demaury is disgusted by their attitude.

« Why are you all ignoring him when he’s the one to get you to pass your bac?»

« Well, he’s mean with us. And scary. It feels like he’s always judging us. Like he doesn’t like us.»

Mr. Demaury lets out a little laugh, before sighting. « I know Mr. Lallemant can be a little shit, and he has no tact, I know. But do you know why he’s like that ?»

They all shake their heads «no».

« Because being a teacher as always been his dream job. When I met him, he was always telling me about how he was gonna be the best bio teacher in Paris. And how every student will pile up in front of his class to listen to him. How big professors were going to ask him to do lectures in their college. How he was gonna publish a book about his biologic discoveries. », he smiles a little while retelling this story, before sighing again. That’s the first time they’ve heard Mr. Demaury sighs so much.

« He put a lot of pressure on himself to be the best because everyone was encouraging him to be it, I included. And then, his first day came around and he was so stressed and anxious, he started talking to his student like he talks with his friends. He’s rude, he doesn’t have a filter but it’s only because of his anxiety and this desire to be loved. And here you are, telling me you hate him.»

It would have hurt less if Mr. Demaury went and slapped them one by one.

« Try to be nice to him. Answers, when he says hello, tries to participate. He’s not mean on purpose, he’s just stressed. He’s a huge nerd about biology, he only wants to find students that will be as hyped to talk about freaking cells as him. Do this for me, please guys.»

« Can you tell Mr. Lallemant we’re sorry, sir? We didn’t know we made him feel so bad.»

«You don’t know what someone goes through daily, so always try to be nice to them. And no, if you want to apologize, you’ll do it yourself. Now, let’s get back to our lesson.»

The atmosphere in the room stays cold after that little discussion. And even Mr. Demaury’s energy seems to have left the room. He’s as empty as Mr. Lallemant was this morning and it makes them feel even more bad about themselves.

Emma leans over to whispers into Lea’s ear. « We should do something for Mr. Lallemant.»

« Yes, we’ll come up with something.»

They never came up with something. Or at least, not directly. Mr. Lallemant was colder than ever after their last class. He seemed tired, with big bags under his eyes and no will to even make snarky comments. Plus, Mr. Demaury was sick the whole week so they didn’t attend any of his classes. And to be honest, he was the only one to give them the courage to go to Mr. Lallemant’s class.

So now, it was like this: nobody dared try to say something to Mr. Lallemant. But they at least now answered when he greeted them at the beginning of their class. The first time they did, he looked shocked and everybody was happy to see him looking at them with wide eyes. But he said nothing of it and just started his lecture like it was another normal day. So it didn’t encourage them, and some of the students stopped trying to be nice to him and kept their bad attitude.

But this time, it looked like Mr. Lallemant wanted to be anywhere but here. His voice was small, and he looked kind of lifeless. So, Lea decided that it was time they came up with something.

« Who can tell me what is inside a DNA structure? I suppose no one will try to answer, I don’t even know why I ask anymore. So, a DNA-

« Hm, sir ?»

« Yes, Lea ?»

« DNA structure is made out of molecules, but I don’t remember the name of it.»

Mr. Lallemant seems surprised and he stays silent for a minute, before shaking himself out of it.

« Yes, you’re right. And the molecules are called nucleotides. Do you know what’s inside a nucleotides ?»

« Isn’t it phosphate? Or is it the four nitrogen bases ?» Asks Anthony.

« It’s phosphate. But there’s also something inside phosphate. DNA is like a Russian doll but with different types of molecules that each have a purpose.»

When Mr. Lallemant gets out of class after their lesson, he seems less tired, and almost like he’s fighting a small smile while looking at his phone. Outside the classroom, Lea high five Anthony. They made their teacher kind-of happy, and it feels good.

A week to go and then, their winter vacation starts. But before that, their school is throwing a little party. Well, ''party'' is a big word. It’s an after-school get together for the whole school, teachers included, from 5p.m to 10p.m. Kind of like prom, in fact. It’s a way to say «you’re almost done, good luck for your finals after you get back from your holidays!».

And so, when they heard teachers could bring a plus one thanks to Mrs. Lecomte, their bubbly french teacher, the whole class was excited. Of course, Mr. Demaury is going to bring his lover as a plus one! Finally, the mystery is gonna be lifted! They can’t wait and at 5p.m sharp, they’re already in the gymnasium, waiting for all their teachers to arrive. For the moment, only the Bakhellals, Mrs. Lecomte and Mr. Lallemant are here.

« Have you seen him somewhere inside the school ?»

« No, no sign of him. Maybe he’s late ?»

« He’s never been late, that’s unusual.»

« Maybe he was horny before coming so he’s banging.»

« For fuck’s sake Anthony you hang out too much with Jérôme !»

Almost everybody is here now, it’s 6p.m but still no sign of Mr. Demaury. Every other professor is here, joking around together. And the little gang is sitting at a table, looking at Mr. Lallemant. They sure as hell aren’t going to miss Mr. Demaury if they keep looking at Mr. Lallemant since they’re such best friends. They still can’t figure out why.

He’s rolling his eyes at what Mrs. Lecomte just said. He still hasn’t smiled since he arrived and they wonder how can he have so many friends when he barely smiles.

« How can he crave to be loved when he never smiles ?»

« Maybe he's self-conscious about his teeth ?»

«Ugh, shut up Emma, it isn’t because of his teeth. Mr. Demaury said he's a nervous person, he must not feel comfortable enough.»

« Speaking of Mr. Demaury, he just arrived !»

« Oh my god, look how good he looks !»

« Wait, why is he alone ?»

« Don’t tell me he didn’t bring his plus one or I’m gonna cry !»

They see him literally skips until he reaches Mrs. Bakhellal and Mr. Lallemant. As soon as Mr. Lallemant sees him, his face hardens and he crosses his arms.

« What the fuck, did they fight ?»

« No way !»

« Let’s move to a table closer to them, I can’t hear what they’re saying !»

As subtly as they can, they try to move closer to where the teachers are. They don’t see that Mr. Demaury spotted them, but he only smiles in answer of them trying to be spies - and failing miserably.

When they reach their target, which is a small table next to the big buffet, they can kind of hear what their teachers are talking about. The music isn’t too loud for the moment to cover their conversation.

« You’re late. Again. »

« What do you mean, again ?! »

« Please Eliott, don’t play dumb. You’re always late! »

« But I was cuddling Marie! »

They don’t have time to get excited about what they just heard, because Marie might be the mysterious lover they kept pestering Eliott about, that Mr. Lallemant ruins it.

« You have an unhealthy relationship with that cat, Eliott. »

« She’s the one who wouldn’t let me leave! That’s why I’m all covered in cat hair. »

« Don’t you dare put your shirt in the hamper only because of that. You’re going to break the washing man, dude. »

« You did not just call me dude! »

And the next sight they see is what make them pause for a moment. Because Eliott squished Mr. Lallemant into his side with his arm around his neck, while one of his hand is holding Mr. Lallemant’s cheeks, making him do a fish face. And their bio teacher is only looking fondly at Mr. Demaury. At that, they all look at each other, a bit perplexed. Well, except Jérôme, who « tsk » loudly at them.

« Friends can be close, you all are just used to toxic masculinity. »

« Yeah, that’s my man,» says Anthony, kissing Jérôme’s cheek right after.

« We’re probably reading too much into this since we’re desperate to see who he’s dating. »

« You’re right, Lea. »

« And I don’t really get any gay vibes from Mr. Demaury. »

« Stop with the stereotypes Jérôme. »

« No, but look at him, no gay vibes at all! »

But when they turn their attention back to where Mr. Demaury - who they finally learned his name - and Mr. Lallemant are supposed to be, there’s only Mrs. Bakhellal and Mrs. Lecomte standing there. They sigh.

« Ok, we need to investigate though. I don’t care if he doesn’t have any gay vibes, maybe he really is with Mr. Lallemant. »

« Why would he? It’s Mr. Lallemant! »

« Oh my god guys I just thought of something ! » Emma gasps while hitting all of them on their shoulders.

« What the fuck Emma ?! »

« Stop hitting us every time you have something to tell us! »

« I bruise like a peach girl, and you know it! »

« Shut up, you all! Remember when Mr. Demaury told us about why Mr. Lallemant is the way he is ? » when they all nod, she continues, « He said they’ve been friends for a very long time! And he also told us that he’s been with his lover since high school! »

They look at her blankly, because they don’t really get it.

« Ugh, you’re all so stupid. Mr. Demaury told us how Mr. Lallemant always wanted to be a teacher, right? So obviously, they knew each other before going to college so…Probably since high school! »

And now, they get it. They all gasp, Jérôme exclaiming « Emma, you are the only straight I’ll ever call a genius, I love you ! » while hugging her before Lea speaks a bit louder to be heard over their excited squeals.

« Ok, we need to investigate! We have to keep an eye on them the whole night, got it? »

« Got it, chef! »

The party is in full swing now, and the little spies are only moving from one table to another, in hope of keeping an eye on their teachers.

Right now, Lea and Emma are next to the buffet, each with a drink in their hand, making small talk while checking behind them to see what their teachers are doing. Anthony and Jérôme are a few tables away, not too close to be spotted but not too far away either. Every one of them has a clear view of their targets, who are sitting facing each other. They're close, whispering in each other’s ear to talk - but they don’t take that as evidence since they all have to do that to be able to hear anything, thanks to the pop music playing loudly in the background.

The first thing they noticed is: they always stay close to each other. The only time they were apart was to get some food or drinks…for the other one. The spies are growing more and more suspicious as time pass, never leaving for too long to be sure to not miss anything.

The second thing they noticed is: Mr. Lallemant does know how to smile. And fuck if he’s not beautiful when he does. In the span of an hour, they’ve seen him smile and laugh more than during their previous year. Sometime, Mr. Demaury will say something that makes him laugh so much he’ll rock back and forth on his chair, before leaning his head on the other’s shoulder. And Mr. Demaury will smile so bright he could illuminate the whole room. Sometime they’ll start a silly game of thumb war, which are often lost by Mr. Demaury, and it’ll end with Mr. Lallemant doing a silly victory dance. And then Mr. Demaury will grab him by his shirt and make him sit back down before ruffling his hair to mess with him. For the whole night, it’s been like that, but nothing to confirm if they’re in a relationship or not. Which is very frustrating.

Mr. Demaury is looking around him, as if he’s assessing the situation going on around them, before turning his attention back to Mr. Lallemant. And he says something that makes Mr. Lallemant bite his bottom lip and look at the floor. The little group all look at each other with their brows furrowed, because it seems like their teachers are having an important conversation. For the next five minutes, they speak and look around them and the atmosphere around them seems to have changed. It looks like Mr. Lallemant is thinking about something like he’s trying to decide on something.

After a short while, he shrugs and turns back to Mr. Demaury with a small smile on his face. Mr. Demaury is asking him something else and after Mr. Lallemant nods, a smile appears on his face and they’re both standing up.

A slow song has come on now, and a lot of couples are already on the dance floor. Except for Mr. Bakhellal, who’s dancing with his sister, the cutest sight right now. In the next minute, Emma, Lea, Anthony, and Jérôme open their mouths so wide their jaws are closed to hitting the floor. Mr. Demaury is guiding Mr. Lallemant under the lights and, once they’ve giggled like kids for a few seconds, he throws his arms around Mr. Lallemant's neck, slowly moving them to the rhythm of the music.

The next thing they see is Mr. Demaury leaning his forehead against Mr. Lallemant’s, gently rubbing their noses together and this time, their relationship can not be mistaken for something else now.

Emma and Lea are suddenly running to join Anthony and Jérôme on their little table, which gives them a nice view of their teachers.

« Omg guys, they’re making my teeth rot. How sweet can they get? »

« I wanna have a boyfriend like that. » Sighs Jérôme.

« We all do man,» answers Anthony, while looking dreamily onto the beautiful couple slow dancing and looking so in love, the little group truly don’t get how they didn’t see it earlier. Mr. Lallemant and Demaury are holding each other as if scared to let go. But at the same time, they seem so comfortable, like they’re in their own bubble, whispering closely and smiling every few seconds.

But soon this little bubble is burst when the song ends and, the DJ should be fired for cutting this moment short. A new song comes on and it’s freaking dubstep. The group groans at the choice of song...how can you dance to something like that?

« I hate dubstep. It’s so lame. »

« Do the DJ think we’re back in 2010 or what? »

« Guys please stop arguing about dubstep and look at Mr. Demaury, what the fuck is he doing ?! »

What a sight to see. Because very handsome, smiley and nice Mr. Demaury is now jumping around, throwing his arms in all directions, certainly trying to « dance » while Mr. Lallemant is hiding his face in his hand, crouching on the floor. Which do not seem to bother Mr. Demaury, who keeps on jumping around, jamming to the blasting music?

« … They’re so adorable. I want to be them. »

« They make me hope I’ll find my soulmate too. »

«Soulmates? »

« Please Anthony, you can’t tell me that they don’t look like they’re soulmate! »

« You’re right. They’ll spend their life together, you can feel it. »

Their first-class after winter break is with Mr. Demaury and there's this charged energy in the whole classroom. Because they can’t wait. They’re impatient. They’re all seated at their desks, their legs bouncing up and down while waiting for their teacher to come in. Which he does, a minute after the bell rang.

« Good morning everyone! »

« Good morning! »

« So, how was your winter break? I hope you all had fun. »

« Yes we did! »

« Ok, good! Then let’s start, shall we? »

And so, their class starts. They’re all very distracted during the whole period and it must shows, because, after only twenty minutes of trying to talk about literature, Mr. Demaury gives up, puts his book down on his desk before leaning against it.

« Ok guys, what’s going on? I know you just came back to school and it’s your last year so it’s stressful, but you’re a lot more dissipated today than usual. »

They all stay silent, nobody dares speak up. Until Jérôme raises his hand, making everyone groans.

« Yes, Jérôme? »

« So… we saw you and Mr. Lallemant at the school party before winter break. »

« Yes. » his voice immediately turned cold. « What about it? »

«Nothing! We’re really happy for you! »

« Oh… » he all a sudden seems shy about being so cold. « OK. But why are you all acting weird, if you don’t have a problem with it? »

« We’re teenagers, sir. We’re curious. I mean, two of our teachers are dating, we wanna know stuff! »

Mr. Demaury laughs at that, smacking lightly his thigh at the same time before rubbing his face and sighing loudly.

« Ok. Ask away. You’re allowed three questions. »

Everyone starts whispering before Jérôme tells them to «pick a fucking question guys we don’t have all day!» and then, Jérôme is turning back toward their teacher.

« Ok, first question: do you plan on getting married to Mr. Lallemant? »

« Yes, actually, I bought a ring. »

Everybody cheers and claps in the room, making Mr. Demaury blush even harder than he already was while answering the question.

« Ok, ok, shh! He doesn’t know guys so quiet down, his classroom is not that far. »

« Ok, second question: how did you get together ?»

« Wow, ok. So, eum..» he squares his shoulder a little, clear his throat before talking again, « You know how sometimes I don’t come for a whole week ? » they all nods, waiting, « Well, it’s because of eum.. some mental health problems, I have. » he exhales, shaking himself a little, « I’m bipolar. » he marks a pause, but nobody knows how to react. So Jérôme, being Jérôme, answers simply:

« Ok. We don’t know what to say but thank you for sharing this with us, I guess? »

Mr. Demaury laughs a little at that, before wiping his eyes slowly. « You’re welcome, I guess. Anyway, that wasn’t your question. » he takes a breath, crossing his arms in front of him, « So, we flirted for two, three weeks after we met and then we started dating. But we were young and I got scared because of something he said and then I fucked up. So, I tried to win him back and when it finally happened, I had an episode. When it passed, I tried to end thing with him, but he didn’t let me do it. He said that we’ll make it work, and we’ve been together since. So, yeah. Here’s your very personal answer. »

Jérôme doesn’t take another minute before asking his new questions, while everyone protests because he didn’t consult them.

« You said you met each other in high school, right? How did you two meet? »

A smile spread Mr. Demaury’s lips, while he looks fondly to his feet as if remembering how it went down years ago.

« I had just transferred school, I was walking in on my first day when I bumped into him. I saw him with his friends, laughing about something. Lucas didn’t see me. But I saw him. He was all I could see actually. »

#elu fic #eliottxlucas #eliott demaury #lucas lallemant #skamfr #skam france #skamfr fic #skam france fic #my first time writing something this long and posting it #i hope you'll like it

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msftbts · 6 years ago

Text

Personal stylist!Reader x OT7

(eventual) smut, fluff, slight angst & a bit of comedy here and there

Summary: You travel to Korea to start your new life as a personal stylist, expecting nothing more than to gain some job experience for the future, but seven sulky men make it difficult for you to stay in your lane and follow the rules. Will you stay faithful to your boss, or fall into the charms of another?

Notes: This chapter was so much fun to write, I love bringing out the personalities of the boys. Also I know y’all are anticipating when the smutty stuff is gonna happen, but...just wait

Warnings: mild cursing, mentions of alcoholism

Taglist: @milk-mochi @ephemeral-mindset @the-wild-ego @kwitze-blog @in-overrmyhead @itsapparent @chocoflagcutii @leftflowerprunedonut @wildly-lost-lantern @knadiuniverse @treetops68 @ultrawheeze

Don't be shy to message/question/request me if you want to be added to the taglist to get notified whenever I post a new chapter! I update this au at least once a week.

I’m also taking requests for other writing ideas & if you want to discuss or ask questions about the plot of this story then feel free to! I’d love to hear your opinions and theories of any possible plot twists. And yes, I’d love to become friends with all of my readers !!

(masterlist)

Chapter 3

You tried to brush off all your dirty thoughts and took Jungkook’s first outfit off the rack. It was time for you to get professional, there was no time for anticipating or being shy. You were done doubting yourself. “Okay let’s change you into these pants first”, you said turning away from him to take the pants off the hanger, whilst he dropped his pants down. When you heard the belt of his pants colliding with the floor you turned to hand him the pants, trying your best to maintain eye contact. And, well, to not look down. You got him dressed quicker than you expected. He was looking at himself in the mirror, looking pleased as he was turning around to see how the outfit fitted him. You went closer to make sure all the buttons of his shirt were tightly closed and straightened any crumbled fabric. “Those pants look slightly loose, do you think they’ll stay up on their own like that?” you asked him. He looked down at his pants, not really knowing what to answer. “You’re the professional one here, you tell me”, he said smirking to you. “You’re right, that needs a belt just in case” you said and went over the table to pick a matching belt. “Yeah, I don’t wanna pull a Jin out there”, Jungkook laughed. “Pull a Jin?”, you asked. “Yeah, Jin’s pants have fallen down on stage once and bro, that was the funniest thing ever!” Jungkook cackled and slapped his hands together. “Poor Jin! Y’all must be giving him a hard time for it, if you have even gone as far as naming a saying after it”, you tried to hold back your laughter, but couldn’t help but join him. Maybe you had been too quick to judge idols before, since you started noticing how well along you got with Jungkook, and how down to earth he was in front of you. Besides his outstanding looks, he was just like any other ordinary young adult, or atleast the extremely kind and funny type. He had a personality that made you feel like you had known him forever, because he was so chill with you. Maybe Melissa was right, maybe you would become friends with some of the idols. Again, not those type of friends who would hang out and do things together, but work friends. Friends who work together, but aren’t afraid to joke around and make it fun. You found yourself hoping for it.

Once you finally got done styling Jungkook and he had left the room, it wasn’t long until another tall man walked through the door. “Hi, my name is Namjoon, nice to meet you!” he introduced himself, with the most genuine smile you had ever seen. You were surprised by his good manners, and could sense the inner leader in him. You had been told earlier in your first meeting that Namjoon was the leader of the group. You introduced yourself back, and got started with the styling. It was noticeably more quiet, than it was with Jungkook, but you didn’t mind working in peace. Namjoon had an effect on the atmosphere, that didn’t make the silence any awkward, it was surprisingly comfortable, taking in the fact that you didn’t really even know each other. You couldn’t help but admire his full chest, while helping him button up his shirt. You did it sneakingly, though. Or at least that's what you thought, because when you felt soft breathing on the back of your neck, you looked up, only to find out Namjoon had noticed your staring and was now giving you a big smile with his dimples out. Your eyes got wide and your mouth slightly dropped: “Sorry! I didn’t mean to stare!”. “No, you can stare, it’s fine”, he reassured. It’s fine? You thought to yourself. Either this man liked being stared at, or he didn’t want to make you feel embarrassed, you needed to get your shit together. You were about to finish buttoning up his last buttons, when he suddenly grabbed your hands. “Should I leave a few buttons open then?”, he asked stopping you from closing the buttons. “I mean, sure if you want to”, you said nodding, trying to hide the fact that his touch slightly startled you and made you blush. “No, I’m asking your opinion here. You were the one staring at my chest, so does it mean you like it?”, he raised an eyebrow at you. “I-” you stopped, not knowing what to say, “Yeah it’s nice when it’s out there”. You had to get your courage up to finish that sentence, because you knew you were his stylist, and you needed to give your opinion when asked, or at least that’s what you told yourself to try to keep the encounter as professional as possible. You dropped your hands from his shirt and he fixed the collar, so his tan chest would peek through. He had a pleased look on his face.

You were quick to find out that Yoongi wasn’t the most talkative type, when the first thing he said when he wandered into the room was: “Save the small talk, I’m saving energy for the concert”. You couldn’t help but smile at that, when the smaller framed man lazily fell onto the chair. “We’re good, but I’m gonna need you to put these on for me”, you said and handed him his clothes. He got dressed quickly, and you picked up his casual clothes off the floor and put them away. While you were busy folding his clothes into a box, Yoongi had walked over to the table and started sniffing all the different bottles of cologne you had laid out. “Do you have anything else than these generic husky scents? All these do is work on me like an insect repellent, I wanna stay away from anyone who smells like this”, he complained putting down the last bottle. You scoffed at his statement. “So you wanna stay away from Namjoon and Jungkook? The previous boys practically lathered themselves with those”, you snickered at him. “Exactly my point”, he said without moving his lazy expression. “Hmm, well those were all the fragrances given to me”, you looked around trying to find a solution for his satisfaction. You went through your bag, but the only scent in there was your cheap floral Victoria’s Secret. You pulled it out to inspect it more, but Yoongi took it off your hand and sprayed a little bit of it in the air. “Mmm, now this is what I’m talking about”, he said and spritzed it all over him. You were surprised that such a cold man was weak for some flowery girly ooze, but it was cute. He marched out of the room, with a cloud of Victoria’s secret following him. “I think I made him happy” you thought to yourself.

After the quiet client Yoongi had left the room, you were faced with a loud crowd of three when Jin, Hoseok and Taehyung all barged into your room at once. You just stood there when they sat down on the to sofa in the corner of the room. “Um, who am I styling?” you tried to ask, but with no effect. None of them heard your quiet voice, when they were too busy laughing at each others jokes and playing games on their phones. You walked over to them, and took the phone out of Taehyung’s hand. “Hey-”, Tae let out as they all stopped into their places. “I asked, who am I styling here?”, you repeated, but clearly it was their first time hearing it, judging by the confused looks. “Jin will go first”, Hoseok said. Jin slapped him on the arm. “No! Hoseok is going first!” he yelled in defense. You rolled your eyes as the boys started bickering playfully together. “You can style me first”, Taehyung stood up from the sofa and smiled at you. “Thank yo-” you were about to say when he continued: “If I’ll get my phone back after that”. Hoseok and Jin had settled down to watch the situation from afar and started loudly laughing at Taehyung’s statement. You crossed your arms and pouted, while trying to think of a comeback. “Come on, cut her some slack, she’s just trying to do her job here. Let’s not get on her nerves on her first day”, Tae said turning back to look at Hobi and Jin and then gave you his most angelic smile. You knew damn well he did this only to get on your good side, so he’d get his phone back soon, but you accepted it, since it seemed to have an effect on the other boys. While you were dressing each one of them up, the others were being noisy in the background or making stupid comments to try to make the one you were dressing up embarrassed in front of you. Even though you were sure to give them annoyed looks, you knew that deep inside you were having fun with them, and you lowkey enjoyed the attention you were receiving.

While being busy looking after these three kids, you had forgotten about your biggest worry of the night. It, well he, was quick to remind you of it, when he stormed into the room. “Get out fools, it’s my turn with her”, Jimin stated out loud. “Doesn’t that sound kind of objectifying, Jimin?”, Hoseok said. “I’m talking about my turn to get styled by her, keep your dirty thoughts to yourself”, he snapped back and turned to smile slyly at you. You froze, not knowing what to do or what to say. You were hoping that at least one of the members would stay in the room with you and Jimin, because you were forced to face your much dreaded fear. To your disappointment, they all left at the same time, the decibels dropping painfully low with the atmosphere in the room. Once the door closed, Jimin stared at you curiously. There it was, the same damn stare that made you weak in the knees before. He knew too well what he was doing to you, and he enjoyed the power he had over you. “Are you going to undress me now?” he asked. You choked. “Excuse me, what?” “Yeah, are you going to undress me so you can style me?”, he said licking his lips teasingly. “Look, I think you got it wrong. I’m not the one who undresses you, I’m the one who gets you dressed up. Don’t get too excited now”, you gave him a saucy look. He just laughed at that, clearly being fueled by your reaction. You walked to the clothing racks. “Take your pants off”, you commanded. “Oh, going straight to the point, huh? Don’t you think it takes some foreplay before this part?”, he said with a strong sarcastic tone. You didn’t even bother to respond to that, and just threw his suit pants at him, which caused him to scoff and give you an offended look. “Woah there dancer!”, he laughed. “Dancer?” You questioned. “Don’t you remember how you busted out those moves at the gym the other day? I’d invite you to be a part of the danceline, if Hobi wasn’t so strict”. You felt your face heat up once again, and a mixed emotion of anger and embarrassment boiling in your gut. “You weren’t supposed to see that”, you said with a defeated low voice. “Yeah I figured when you ran away from there. Could you teach me some of your moves some day?” He teased and imitated your body rolls. You pushed the shirt off your hands on him and accidentally formed a little smile, when you noticed the comical face he was pulling. “See, I knew you liked me”, he smiled while putting on the shirt you shoved to him. “No I don’t Jimin”, you said. “I thought there was something in the way you looked at me since the first time you saw me”, he said and your face started heating up. Did he really feel it too? You really had contemplated if there was something in the way he looked at you from the first time you saw him, just like he said, but has he thought so too? “Oh, and then there’s the blushing. You seem to be doing that alot around me too”, he said as he quirked his head to the side to look at your reddened face that you tried to hide. You hated how right he was. Were you really that invisible? Your pride didn’t let you give out to him, and you quickly collected yourself. “Put this on”, you said and gave him a tie, trying to distract both, him and yourself from the ongoing topic. “Could you help me?”, he asked with a voice little bit too sweet. “What, you don’t know how to put on a tie?” You responded. He looked down at the tie on his hands thinking what he could say next. You were sure that this was just another way of his trying to get you closer to him, but his response took you by surprise. “No, I’ve never been taught how to. My dad was an alcoholic, and he was never around to teach me the manly deeds, so no, I really don’t know how to”, he looked deep into your eyes. You felt the guilt creeping up on you, and swallowed before answering. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know..but I’m here to teach you, I’m your stylist after all”, you said standing closer to him. “Thank you”, he responded and it felt like he finally put his guard down. You reached to his neck to put the tie around it and slowly started to instruct him how to tie it. He looked down at you, swifting between looking at your hands and your face as you were busy explaining. He wasn’t really even listening to you, but enjoyed seeing you being so passionate about something. “..and then you pull it and it should be in place, like this. Did you get it?” You finished teaching him. He didn’t respond and you looked up to him: “Jimin?”. You were faced with his calm eyes on yours. He was looking down at you like he was really happy that you were there. For once, you actually felt comfortable looking back to his eyes, not feeling like you were his target anymore. Sure, you felt almost vulnerable under him, but you could see in his eyes that he meant no harm to you. He slowly took his hands and cupped your face in them. You knew where this was going, but you wanted it too. He shifted his eyes to your lips, and you closed your eyes. Just as you were letting go of your professionalism, a knock on the door forced you to gather it up again. You quickly pulled away from him, and went to open the door. “Hi, oh my god I have to tell you everything! You can not believe what happened between Namjoon and me-, oh, you have a client here!” Melissa fussed. Jimin smiled at her. “No, we were just done here. Jimin, you can go now”, you hinted at him. He looked at you in defeat, but left the room. “Did I interrupt something?” Melissa asked. “What? No! Why would I be doing something with Jimin? It’s my first day of work, Bighit was very clear about-” “I was kidding”, Melissa brushed it off. “Oh”, you sighed.

Chapter 4

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lovelyfictional-imagines · 6 years ago

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Your Noise (The Twelfth Doctor x Reader)

So you guys, I’m a massive slut for Peter Capaldi. Is he sixty? Yes. Do I care? Obviously not. There is so much love out there for the younger actors who play the Doctor, and I absolutely adore them as well, but I feel like there could be more about ole Twelve.

Forgive me if he’s a little out of character, or if descriptions aren’t in depth enough. I’ve been in a massive slump lately and this helped a little. Might be a little angsty?

Also, the song mentioned in the beginning is ‘Fly Me to the Moon’ by Frank Sinatra. I got the idea for this while listening to some Sinatra records I have a few days ago.

Anyway, hope you enjoy! Feel free to message me with feedback!

- Ashley

Loud ruckus erupted through the TARDIS, causing one of the Doctor’s bulbous blue eyes to snap open. Grumbling to himself, he clamored to his feet from the comfortable loveseat. Looking around, he saw no one. And with a final huff, he marched out and into the hall. “Why is it that every time I attempt to sleep, which isn’t often, she has to interrupt somehow?” he asked to no one in particular. Upbeat music blared through the corridor, and the Doctor marched to where he assumed his unexplainably loud companion was. Upon arriving, he couldn’t find it in him to bellow.

The Doctor smiled—yes, actually smiled—at his current companion’s antics. Currently she was dancing rather ridiculously to some American jazz song about flying to the moon. Arms swinging above her head, around her in circular motions as her sock-covered feet slid over the metallic floor. The TARDIS whirred in that way she does, the one almost like a laugh. She was in on this too, it seems. He wanted to be angry, wanted to feel irritation throb at his temples. But at that moment, he simply couldn’t. All he could find was a long-dormant feeling, stirring in his chest. One that he loathed and craved in equal measure, that he couldn’t ever seem to escape.

He hated it, hated the way she made him feel. Yet at the same time, he basked in it, reveled in the knowledge that he could still love. That this body could love despite its bitterness.

Of course, of all the things that could, this would’ve happened. How could it not? How could he resist? With her brilliant mind, her open heart, deflecting and countering his sarcasm and mood swings with her own. There was an energy about her that made him feel at home. He’d missed feeling like he belonged. Even when he knew he didn’t.

It seemed the song, along with her performance, was coming to an end as the music slowed, the artist sang one word at a time. One last “You!” came through, an air of finality carried in one syllable. As she stood near the console, panting and pulling the sleeves of her jumper up, he cleared his throat.

The speed at which she snapped her head in his direction was remarkable. “If I’d known I’d be witnessing a poorly rehearsed recital, I would’ve stayed in bed.”

A rueful grin crossed her face before it developed into a true one. “Oh shove off it, Doctor. You? In bed? Come on. Besides, you’ve never listened to Sinatra? The Americans seem to love him.”

“That must be the reason why I’ve avoided him, then.”

A laugh bubbled from her throat and she turned back to the console. The smile came through again. The one that belonged to her, though he doubted he’d ever let her see it. And he was fine with that.

Or so he thought.

“Now,” he began, breaking through his immensely long train of thought. “Where to today? Discovering little green men? Racing sauropods? Combating the emu nuisance in Australia? You choose.” While he was speaking, he’d crossed the room and made it to the console, standing opposite of her as he flipped levers and turned knobs. Intentionally avoiding her gaze.

“Hmm,” she tapped her chin. “I’m thinking, after this morning, I’m in the mood to see Sinatra live. Can we make that happen?” A mischievous grin appeared on her round face. And the Doctor knew he couldn’t resist as soon as he mustered the courage to glance her way. “I think we can.”

“Oh Doctor! That was absolutely brilliant!” (Y/N) exclaimed at his side, clutching his forearm as he walked her out of the show and back to the TARDIS. “I’m glad you liked it. Now if only he knew how to play real music, I might’ve been willing to actually listen.” His statement was hung out like bait on a fishing pole, and he waited for her to take it and run with it. Arguing was, unsurprisingly, one of his favorite pastimes. Though it seemed (Y/N) didn’t mind bickering. In fact, she thrived on it. Quarreling harmlessly brought out a certain fire in her that the Doctor had come to adore.

“Real music? Doctor! I’ve no idea if this has actually occurred to you, which, more than likely, it has, but it’s the 1950’s! Frank Sinatra predates your definition of ‘real music’ by a good thirty years!” The Doctor smiled to himself. “Excuses, excuses. It was only a matter of time before someone came forward with it, and it obviously wasn’t him.”

“Oh Doctor, maybe you should become a musician. Maybe you’d be pleased for once with something.”

Suddenly he came to a halt in the middle of the street. Everything was dark in the dead of night, only faint shadows and shapes could be made out. Despite this, he looked deep into her eyes, and she stared back at him with a straight face as he fixed her with one of his more owlish glares. “Nah!” They cried simultaneously before breaking into their own fits of laughter. And they continued on their way, (Y/N) chuckling all the way to the TARDIS.

Closing and locking the door behind them, the Doctor set their coordinates for a random point where they could drift for a while, somewhere a noisy human wouldn’t be able to disturb them. (Y/N) had wordlessly gone off down one of the halls, more than likely to her room to change and go to bed. At this time, he decided to change from his Noir-like suit to something more fitting his personal tastes. Ambling off down a different hallway, he opened the first door on his right.

A closet just large enough to stand comfortably in was what he found, thankfully, and he stepped inside. After some perusing, a few scowls and ‘hmms’ of intrigue, a comfortable pair of black trousers were located at last. Beneath the row of clothes, he found a large pile of discarded garments that had fallen from their hangars. Beneath this, he found a line of shoes in different styles, each from a different time and place in history. Deeming them unnecessary for the time being, he plucked a pair of black boots from the assortment and placed them on the ground behind him. Digging around in the pile of forgotten clothes, he found a large navy sweater. Recognizing it instantly, he held it in his wrinkled hands.

The Doctor spent what felt like ages studying his hands and their contrast against the soft fabric. It had her very essence woven into the wool, her innocence and youth, her smiles and tears, the (E/C) of her eyes and pinks of her cheeks. Wanting to cry out in anger, he clutched it tightly, as if it would disintegrate into ash if squeezed hard enough. A wave of fury swept over him. Anger at this body he’d been given this time. Why couldn’t he have gotten another young bloke? Instead he was.... this. And he felt the unfairness in it all that he’d meet her now, in this form. With no chance of her seeing him as anything other than her traveling companion, a brilliant mind, an old man. And he pulled the sweater to his face, taking in the scent of her perfume.

It was comforting, soothing his indignant attitude. Quieting his rage, leaving him feeling awfully tired. Exhausted beneath the burden of the universe, eternal loneliness tugging at his sleeves, and the pressure of all that he had done, all seeming to slam into him at once. The sweet, earthy fragrance was embedded in the woven strands that sang of inaudible songs of (Y/N) was all he had to combat the voices of those left behind at this time.

Atlas may have shrugged, but if the Doctor wasn’t careful, he’d be flattened before too much longer.

A thought finally occurred to him: she’d gone to bed. Or at least to her room deep in the TARDIS, to do whatever it is she did when she wasn’t pestering him. He chuckled lowly in the dark of the closet. It would be at least five hours before he saw her again. With one last consideration, he slipped the sweater on over his head.

To the Doctor’s surprise and great annoyance, he found himself to be very comfortable. It dwarfed (Y/N), falling to the tops of her knees. Whilst he was considerably taller than her, it still was rather roomy on him, and fell below the beltloops on his pants. Taking the boots in hand, he exited the closet, leaving his worn clothes on the floor. He headed back towards the console room, scanning it for some sort of distraction until his companion decided to join him again.

Stalking the various shelves surrounding the command center, he sighed as he found nothing. At last a large, aquamarine-hued tome with silver etchings in an ancient, foreign language seemed to appear before him on a shelf he’d searched ten times. The Doctor took this, rubbed the shelf affectionately, and plopped into a comfortable armchair, moving his feet to the matching ottoman in front of it. Deeming it a sufficient distraction for the next few hours, he buried his large nose in it. As if it helped.

Soft humming and breathing were distant in the Doctor’s senses as he slowly opened his eyes. The darkness faded to the blue iridescent lights of the console room. He took in his surroundings before looking down towards the source of the noise. There leaning on the ottoman was his companion, (H/C) hair tossed up messily, curls hanging around her round, innocent face as her (E/C) eyes watched him.

“Sleep well, Doctor?”

The honey in her hoarse, sleep-filled voice caused his to disappear. His sarcastic comment plunged to the back of his throat as he observed her figure. A brown jumper similar to the one he wore covered her arms and hands, though in turn revealed her collarbones. Forcing himself to look away, he found the will to speak again.

“Why is it your noise always finds a way to wake me up when I finally choose to sleep?” Furrowing his eyebrows, he closed his eyes and moved his face towards the ceiling. The softest of giggles erupted from her mouth, and he fought the urge to watch her smile.

“Mm, it’s one of my many talents. You have saving the universe, I have disturbing the peace of certain Time Lords. It balances out.”

He felt her remove herself from the ottoman and stand before him. His eyes remained closed, waiting to feel her walk off to open them again. Instead he felt her closer than ever. “By the way,” her husky whisper tickled his ear, causing a shiver to attempt to find its way through him. “You look fucking adorable in my sweater.” And she took off as he sprung up in his seat.

“Language!”

Her laughter was heard humming throughout the TARDIS’ halls, bouncing off the walls. And again that smile returned, much to his chagrin. But something else accompanied it.

His cheeks burned. And he grumbled once again as he fought the urge to smile, calmed his heartbeats, and resumed his façade of relaxing until she was ready to jet off to some far away galaxy. But only the Doctor knew he wouldn’t be able to remain disgruntled after that exchange.

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raendown · 6 years ago

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Pairing: KakashiSakura Word count: 1419 Soulmate au: The one where you hear a constant mental static until you meet your soulmate

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

Chapter 127: Kakashi/Sakura

“I want to tell you to turn off the television,” Sakura mumbled at the open air between her and the ceiling, “but I know it isn’t on.”

“What you want are a nice pair of mental earplugs,” Ino said. Even without looking Sakura could practically feel her best friend smirking, as though the quirk of those perfectly painted lips had made ripples in the air which set off her instinct to cringe.

“Shut up, Pig.”

Amazingly, Ino did shut up. Most people had the decency not to mock anyone who hadn’t found their soulmate yet and still suffered from the constant mental static of separation. Ino was not most people, although that was admittedly one of the reasons Sakura had first been drawn in to their strange and sometimes violent friendship. There were few other people she would trust half as much as her best friend – and no one else who she would drop kick faster.

On her better days Sakura was able to stand the good-natured bickering between her and her roommate and even enjoy it but there were days like today when the noise in her head made her think deeply about the asylums lurking at edge of every town in the Five Nations. Like most people, those places represented her worst fear: that she might never find her other half and be driven to madness by the constant mental static she would never be able to escape. The very thought of it was enough to run shivers down her spine and roll her off the edge of the mattress, rising to her feet to pace in helpless agitation.

Muted thumps and raised voices on the other side of her bedroom wall drew a scowl.

“What the hell is all the ruckus out there?” she snapped. Ino looked up from where she was sitting in the window and painting her nails.

“New neighbors are moving in to the apartment across the hall, remember? Why don’t you go yell at them to keep it quiet? Blow off some steam or something.”

“They’ll think I’m a bitch!”

“You don’t have to get along with everyone in the world,” Ino pointed out, waving one hand through the air to dry the paint.

Sakura gave her a very long look before sighing and turning for the bedroom door. Yelling wouldn’t accomplish much but maybe she could ask them to keep it down a bit. She was well acquainted with the stress and frustration of moving in to a new apartment but there was no need for anyone to shout as much as whoever that was out in the common hallway.

As soon as she opened her front door Sakura regretted it. Her first impression was that the man before her could probably fit her entire head in the palm of his hand; her second impression was that his voice was as big as his body. Turns out he wasn’t really yelling, just speaking with enough enthusiasm to psych up three little league baseball teams. Sakura flinched when he whipped around at the sound of her door opening and greeted her with a smile that nearly damaged her eyesight with its brightness.

“Greetings, new neighbor of my most beloved rival!”

“Uh…yeah.” Irritable already, it was clear she would not have the patience to deal with this man. “Listen, you’re being really loud and my static is giving me a terrible headache. Could you, like, shut the fuck up?”

“My sincerest apologies! I had no idea I was being so loud!” He even looked sorry. She might have felt bad for putting such earnest tears in his eyes if he had bothered to lower his volume at all while apologizing, which he had not.

Before she had time to let her bad temper loose, however, another voice did so first.

“Gai, shut up. I’ve asked you thirty-four times – this makes thirty-five – to shut up today. I said I needed your help moving, not that I needed a damn cheer section whipping my furniture around.” The newcomer spoke from behind the massive box he was carrying, visible only as a tuft of silver hair.

“But rival–!”

“No! Shush. Quiet. Zip it. Quietus Downicus.”

“Oh! Since when does my esteemed rival speak Latin? I’m impressed!”

“And I’m in pain,” Sakura snarled. “So button up, big boy, or I’ll give you a headache too.”

The human mountain in front of her teared up again and gave her a guilty look somewhat reminiscent of the one she used to use to beg cookies from her parents. It did nothing to earn her sympathies. Sakura winced as the mental static inside her mind kicked it up a notch, almost as though it was angry at her for trying to ignore it.

From behind the massive box floating beside her there came a muted noise of disgust and then her new neighbor set his load down on the floor and she got her first good look at him while he rubbed his temples. He was nowhere near as old as the color of his hair suggested, probably a few years older but still young, and he had an unseasonable scarf wrapped around the lower half of his face despite the last clinging heat of summer. Sakura was in the middle of thanking the universe for at least having the mercy to send her a bit of eye candy when he looked up and their gazes met.

Silence.

Instant, blissful silence.

Embarrassingly, Sakura’s first instinct was to panic because her body recognized that something was gone which had always been there. After a few gasping breaths she finally realized what was happening and what exactly it meant. Her jaw fell even lower and her awareness of anything except the man in front of her faded away.

He stared back, equally as entranced by her as she was by him.

“Well…this is unexpected.”

“To say the least,” she breathed in reply.

“Suddenly I’m really glad I took the job offer here instead of the one across town.”

“Y-yeah. Me too.”

Head whipping back and forth between them, the noisy mountain man was scratching his head. “Do you know your neighbors already? How youthful! You must have come and met her earlier!”

“No, Gai. She’s my – wow, I found my soulmate. Wow. I should – we need to sit? Sitting is good.” His eyes grew impossibly larger as his knees trembled and Sakura laughed even as she felt the same weakness in her own shaking limbs.

“We can sit in my apartment,” she offered.

“Your soulmate!?” Gai – if she’d heard his name right, he wasn’t a top priority at the moment – screeched loud enough to rattle the ceiling tiles.

“That would be nice. I’m – my name is Kakashi.”

“Sakura.”

When he popped his face up above the edge of his scarf he was wearing the cutest lopsided smile she had ever seen in her life. “Hi. Yeah. Uhm. Gai, you wouldn’t mind bringing the rest up yourself, would you? It’s just…”

“Of course! Say no more, rival! Let the flower of your love blossom!” Gai all but lunged for the boxes still on the floor by their feet and hurled himself through the open door across the hall. Neither of them spared so much as a glance for him, still much too caught up in each other to even think about dealing with anything else at the moment.

“It’s – ah, this is me right here.” Sakura waved vaguely at her own door and Kakashi followed her in, both of them trying not to take their eyes off each other as they awkwardly made their way inside.

“Quiet,” he murmured.

“Complete silence. My roommate’s described it for me a dozen times but I still…”

“Yeah. You’re really pretty.”

Kakashi’s face turned red and he looked away for the first time, clearly embarrassed to have let that slip out. Rather than laugh at him, Sakura joined him in blushing, hiding her pleased smile by turning to lead him over to the couch.

She wondered what it would take to convince Ino to go out for a while and leave them be. As much as she was dying to get to know the soulmate she’d started to believe she might never meet, what she wanted more than anything was to simply sit here and enjoy the silence together. From the way Kakashi closed his eyes and reached for her hand, head tilting back with a peaceful smile, she would guess that he felt the same.

#rae writes #soulmate collection #kakasaku #kakashi #sakura #ino #gai #fanfiction #naruto shippuden

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quirkypaynesgrey · 6 years ago

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Inuyasha fanfic, “Noisy Neighbors” InuKag rated M

Fandom: Inuyasha Title: Noisy Neighbors Author: paynesgrey Characters/Pairings: Inuyasha/Kagome, Inuyasha, Kagome, Sango, Rin, Kaede Word Count: 3,033 Genre: Humor/Romance Warnings: Mature situations Spoilers: Post-canon to the manga and anime. Notes: Written for the "really" prompt for the Summer Mini Challenge. This was an unfinished fic I found in my drive that begged to be finished so I'm happy it got a proper ending. Other Links: AO3 | FFnet | Eternal Destiny Summary: Some town gossip motivates Kagome and Inuyasha to reexamine their nightly activities.

A certain hanyou’s ear cocked when he’d heard his wife’s voice below his favorite tree. He’d been napping that afternoon, worn out from a demon exorcising outing with Miroku in another village. He’d relaxed on a branch on the tree, just above a river where some of the women did their washing.

Kagome, Sango and Rin had brought clothes down and were washing them while they occupied themselves with some idle chatter.

“You know that Kia right? Single woman in the village that works in the field. She’s a little older than us. I really don’t think she likes me,” Kagome said, and Inuyasha listened with mild interest.

“Oh? Why is that? I’ve never heard her say anything bad about you,” Sango said.

“Of course you wouldn’t,” Kagome huffed. “You’re too distracted, and no one would ever say anything unkind about anyone the town demonslayer knew.”

“How could anyone not like the village miko?” Rin asked.

“Easy,” Sango answered for Kagome. “It’s gotta be the company you keep.”

��Inuyasha? No, I mean, she has said things…” Kagome said, and the silence of the other girls prodded her to continue. “Like, wow you’re really young to be married. And to a hanyou even! You don’t know where he’s been…. He could turn on you and kill you at any moment.”

Sango huffed. “Sounds like she’s jealous. I heard Kia is still looking for a husband.”

Inuyasha rolled his eyes as the girls laughed. “Keh,” he said, loud enough for them to hear.

“Well, maybe she’s just -- bored?”

“Maybe you are,” Inuyasha chimed in, cracking open an eye and looking into his wife’s challenging stare.

He never really enjoyed getting involved in women’s gossip, but he couldn’t resist. Plus, he didn’t really like the idea of some villager saying stuff to Kagome, especially about them. He was used to the hesitation and mild tolerance from some of the villagers, but if any of them tried to make them unhappy… he felt he ought to defend his family.

“Oh, Inuyasha,” Kagome said with a sharp stare and a wicked smile. “I could never be bored with you.”

He blushed and narrowed his eyes at her, but like hell if he was going to look away.

Kagome and Inuyasha were locked an intense stare, and Sango had to cough awkwardly to break it up. She sighed audibly. “You two. You don’t get it at all.”

Inuyasha looked over at Sango, who was still washing her clothes with some disinterest in their heated stare. Of course, she was more than used to their bickering, so this was nothing new. They still even fought sometimes, about trivial things, but he was thankful at least Kagome no longer had the rosary to use against him.

It didn’t mean he could get away with things. Dealing with an angry wife under the same roof was bad enough.

“What… don’t we get?” Kagome braved the question. Sango just sighed, and Inuyasha cocked his ears in interest.

“Kia isn’t jealous or bored, well, I don’t think it’s just that anyway,” Sango said. “Obviously, I think she’s trying to tell you something,” Sango said, glancing at Kagome. “She’s just too proper to spell it out for you.”

Kagome looked confused, and Inuyasha was lost on where this was going. Though, knowing what an astute observer Sango was (just as much as her husband) her thoughts couldn’t be good.

Suddenly, Kagome gasped. “Sango, you did hear something!” Kagome affirmed, and Sango’s usual serious expression face broke into an embarrassed blush.

“Well, maybe I’ve got an idea…” she admitted.

“What is it?” Kagome said, her voice rising to a panic. Inuyasha narrowed his eyes at Sango now.

“It has to do with your...loud living habits,” Sango said reluctantly.

“Loud...living habits?” Kagome repeated, her eyes wide with wonder at what Sango could possibly mean. The demon slayer bit her lip.

“You guys do argue. Everyone knows that,” Sango said, but Inuyasha knew that wasn’t it. “And your other activities…”

Kagome yelped, throwing a hand over her mouth. Her entire face turned the color of cherries, and Inuyasha began to suspect the meaning of Sango’s concern.

“Just spill it,” Inuyasha complained.

“Inuyasha…” Kagome began, speaking before Sango. “It seems the whole village can hear us at night when we…”

Sango looked at Kagome with sympathy. The poor girl couldn’t handle being the subject of such gossip.

“But...we’re married,” Kagome said.

“And you’re also loud,” Sango said. “To put it plainly, I’ve heard some complaints that it sounds like a demon is howling at night.”

Inuyasha felt the heat creep to the ends of his ears. Oh. Sango meant that kind of loud.

“Technically, a demon is howling,” Rin chimed in, making much better progress with washing her laundry than everyone else.

“Rin! How can you say such a thing!” Kagome said, as if to scold her.

Sesshoumaru’s ward shrugged nonchalantly. “You’re the one making all the noise at night, waking up poor delicate children like me.”

Kagome squeaked, hiding her face in her hands. “Wow, this is so embarrassing. How am I ever going to face the village again now that I know what...they hear at night?”

“You could start by keeping it down at night,” Sango suggested.

“Keh,” Inuyasha said, totally against the idea. “It’s none of their business. We’ll do what we want.”

Sango’s brow rose from his input. She shrugged. “Well, if you don’t mind being the town gossip…”

“No!” Kagome said. “We’ll...figure something out.” She looked up at Inuyasha sheepishly. “Right?”

Inuyasha honestly didn’t care what the villagers thought. He loved Kagome, and some nights he showed her just how much he loved her. He didn’t give a damn if anyone heard the sounds from their lovemaking.

“You know, you could always build another dwelling deeper in the forest. No one would bother you or probably hear you, and you could make as much noise as you want,” Rin said.

“That’s even more embarrassing,” Kagome said. “They’d know exactly why we moved.”

“I don’t know if we can help you with a solution to your problem,” Sango said with a sigh. “I’d ask Miroku, but he’d get too much enjoyment out of ‘helping’ Inuyasha with that sort of problem. You’re lucky he hasn’t heard the gossip yet.”

“Yet…” Inuyasha muttered. “Damn it, if he finds out…” Inuyasha played a few scenarios in his brain if the monk found out about the villagers’ grievances with their nightly ventures. He’d never hear the end of it, and he’d be way more tempted to pound the bozu than ever before.

And he was just getting that reflex under control…

“Look, maybe the problem isn’t so difficult after all,” Sango mused aloud. “Maybe…” Her words trailed off and she shook her head. “Oh, nevermind.”

“What?” Kagome asked, desperate for a fix to her problem.

“You could somehow...drop some gossip of your own around the village…” Sango said.

“Such as…?” Kagome asked.

“You could say that because Inuyasha is a hanyou, you only have one solution to keep the demon at bay. As a miko, it’s your duty to protect the village by making such noises with him every night. If you didn’t satisfy the demon, then he would just go berserk and put everyone in danger. The villagers are simple so they don’t know much about hanyou, so they may believe it - even tolerate the noises at night.”

Sango looked up at Kagome, who appeared to be white as a sheet. Inuyasha was already growling in protest.

“What the hell? What kind of story is that! There is no controlling my demon side like that! Who the hell would believe that?” he complained.

Sango gave him a deadpanned look. Apparently having four kids and counting had motivated her to grow out of her prudish phase, for the most part. She had no problem challenging Inuyasha on this subject. “Hey, you’re the noisy, insatiable idiot at night. I was just giving you somewhat of a feasible excuse. Do what you want,” Sango said, waving a hand.

“It’s actually a pretty good story,” Rin commented. “I should tell Sesshoumaru-sama when he gets back,” she added.

It was Inuyasha’s turn to turn white as a ghost.

“No, no...we won’t do that,” he said. “We won’t tell that asshole anything!”

“Then what are we going to do?” Kagome asked, ready to give up.

Inuyasha crossed his arms and thought for a moment. “It’s simple, Kagome. We’ll talk about it later.”

“Hey, but I want to know what you’re plan is!” Rin said.

“To be honest, I want to know too,” Sango said.

“Well tough! I ain’t telling you anything!” Inuyasha snapped at them. He pointed a clawed finger at Rin. “Especially you.”

Fury consumed him, and Inuyasha had bounded off from the tree away from the three women. Kagome looked on helplessly as he disappeared into the forest. She turned to Sango and Rin, who just looked over at her sympathetically. Kagome bit her lip, still nervous at what they were going to do.

***

Later, Kagome found her husband tinkering around their homestead. She could hear bustling sounds from the outside, so she entered cautiously and noticed that Inuyasha was fortifying the walls with moss. When the smell hit her nose, she gagged.

“Inuyasha, what are you doing to our home?” she asked, shocked and horrified. “And what is that smell.”

“I know, the smell sucks but after a few weeks it should be gone,” he explained. “This is moss that grows in the swamp area and is used by the dragon youkai to muffle the sounds so they can stalk their prey. If they can be quiet on the hunt, we can be quiet to everyone else in the village.”

Kagome’s eyes were already watering, and her once lovely home was being covered by an ugly, smelly moss. “Inuyasha… there is no way I’m living in this stuff.”

“Just give it a chance; you’ll be used to it in no time,” he said, and he turned to her and saw her crying. He frowned. Though he didn’t seem to know she’d been crying from the overpowering stench.

“No, Inuyasha, I’m not living in this mess. If you don’t take down this moss, I’m going to stay with Sango-chan,” she said defiantly.

“But Kagome!” he said.

She shook her head. “We’ll find something else.”

He made an exasperated sound, kicked a pile of moss and swore at it. Kagome left the house, retreating to the forest for some fresh air. She damn well hoped that once she returned, her house was back to normal.

***

When Kaede-dono found Kagome, she was staring idly at a stream in the forest. She was quiet, her mind abuzz with thoughts and her emotions still brimming with mortification. She couldn’t believe that the whole village saw them as some sort of deviant animals that couldn’t have enough of each other. She didn’t recall crying that loudly, but then again, she couldn’t say she recalled anything in those moments.

Inuyasha was not always a tender lover. Sometimes during the New Moon he was, but as a hanyou, his desires were insatiable. It didn’t help that he was loud at everything else too, such as complaining, eating, and fighting.

Finally, Kaede’s voice broke through her silence. “What troubles you, child?”

Kagome scoffed. “What doesn’t? The whole village thinks were depraved beasts. I just don’t know what to do about it. Inuyasha refuses to be mindful of it. And now our house smells like a soundproof demon moss.” She sighed. The situation seemed hopeless.

“Ah, yes, I’ve heard some mutterings about it,” she said. “But why do you place so much importance on it. Miroku-dono and Sango-san also are not as quiet. And I’ve heard Keiko and Shiya scream through the night before as well. It is a part of living in a small community. Also some people are light sleepers.”

“Really?” Kagome turned to her, somewhat relieved. “I thought it was just us.”

“Inuyasha could never be quiet. It is not within his nature,” she said. “Might I make a suggestion?”

Kagome nodded furiously. She watched as Kaede turn to her satchel on her waist. She pulled out a pocket of herbs and handed it to Kagome. “This is a small mixture of lemon balm, anise, and other soothing plants. One of these plants grows in the mountains with the bat youkai. It helps them with their echolocation. Maybe if Inuyasha were to have some of this in tea before bed, he might understand what it is like in other people’s footsteps.”

Kagome took the satchel gently, and she thanked Kaede before the ancient miko wandered back off to her homestead.

That evening Kagome did as Kaede asked. The smell of anise and cinnamon seemed to soothe her senses and mask the dwindling smell of the moss. Inuyasha had been burning sage that afternoon to at least relieve the smell before she returned, and Kagome was satisfied with his effort.

He watched her intently as she made the tea. “So the old woman said I should drink this tea and I should be able to quiet down?”

“Something like that,” Kagome said, though she really did know what the results would be. Kaede didn’t exactly specify, just that he would know what it felt like - whatever that meant.

Inuyasha gulped up the entire portion of tea, and the effects immediately calmed him. Kagome watched him with mild interest before they settled into bed, and when his hand started caressing her skin under her yukata, her interest piqued on how this tea was going to work. (Kagome was at least going to be mindful of her sounds.)

He shifted over her, moaning slightly as she melted against him. She wrapped her arms around his neck as his lips bent down, capturing hers. She sighed at the familiar taste, remembering all the reasons she loved him, letting each touch he offered settle into her skin. Gentle with his claws, he pushed open her yukata, exposing her skin to the night air.

Delicately, Kagome derobed him, untying his belt and removing his pants. His hot skin against hers electrofied her senses. His long hair fanned over her, touching her lightly with each of his movements. He pressed himself against her, the thick hardness rubbing against the apex of her thighs. She opened herself up for him, and he moaned a little louder.

Kagome’s blood went still, remembering the louder they got, the more their neighbors would hear them. Inuyasha continued, having no such reservations of his own.

His kisses became longer, heavier with a sense of urgency. He trailed his lips and teeth softly down her jaw to her chest, settling on her pebbled nipples and then sucking like a babe. Kagome let out a silent whine, mindful of her voice. Inuyasha growled loudly against her skin, and then he murmured a light cry.

Wasting no more time, he dropped a hand between her legs, opened her wide, and lightly pressed a clawed finger inside her. She squeaked, and he removed it to replace it with his hardness, pumping slow and deep within her. Kagome’s breath became erratic, and Inuyasha growled louder in her ear. She opened her eyes for a moment and glanced at his ears, flattened against his head.

He looked like he was in pain, but that he was trying to ignore it.

“Inuyasha?” she whispered.

“Shhh,” he said, still pushing inside her in a solid rhythm. She moved with him, watching him with half-curiosity, and then reveling in the other feelings of him inside her, creating a crest of ecstasy with each movement.

His grunting was more controlled, but the moment he came, he let out a howl, only it was cut short, and his ears flattened against his skull. He lurched in pain, pulling out of her and then cringing at her side of their bedding.

“Ow, ow, dammit, son of a bitch, OW,” he said, and he clutched his ears.

“What, what is it?” Kagome asked.

“Each time I even make a sound my ears start ringing. It hurts like hell, and then I can’t hear a thing for like a moment,” he said. “What the fuck did Kaede put in that tea?”

“Um, she didn’t specify each ingredient, but one of them is used by bat youkai for heightened echolocation.”

“Feh! That has to be it. She heightened my sense of hearing. Now I can hear myself louder than before! Almost twice as loud! And it hurts like hell!” he grumbled.

“So when she told me that you’d understand what others in the village are experiencing…”

“She meant that I would hear things loudly and painfully,” he said. “But if I don’t make a sound…”

“Then it’s okay. Huh, well I didn’t realize it would cause you pain,” she said, putting a comforting arm on his shoulder.

“Forget it,” Inuyasha said. “If this what keeps the villagers from shunning us, I can work on my noises with the tea.”

Kagome wasn’t sure, but she felt somewhat relieved. Inuyasha, however, still looked angry. When he met her eyes, his expression softened. He held out his arms.

“Come here,” he said, and he drew her into his arms. Kagome relaxed against him.

“You think anyone heard you swearing like that?” Kagome asked with a giggle.

“Who cares,” he said a little too loudly. “If they have a problem they can come to me directly,” he yelled, and then he winced as he felt the feedback in his ear. “Damn, that Kaede.”

“She was just trying to help,” Kagome said.

“Well I don’t need that old woman’s help for my sex life,” he said, and he turned to her and kissed her again. “Now, where were we?”

“Resting between rounds,” Kagome said, kissing him on the chin. He gave her a fanged grin, the grin she fell in love with.

“Damn straight, woman,” he said, and he pulled her against him again, loving her and treating her with care.

Albeit, he did more quietly this time around. The neighbors in the village never bothered them about it again.

END

#inuyasha #inuyasha x kagome #inuyasha fanfiction #inukag #mature #oneshot #postcanon #kagome

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seenoevil-ff · 7 years ago

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7 ✝ A Funeral

“It is * * * Death alone that can suddenly make man to know himself.” –Sir Walter Raleigh, The History of the World (1614).

Nunc lento sonitu dicunt, morieris

Now this bell tolling softly for another,

says to me, Thou must die. – John Donne, Meditation 17 (1624)

XAVIER

The stifled sobs of my mother rang in my head repeatedly.

She screamed and pounded her balled fists against my brother’s chest, outraged. Her arms flailing, the stench of blood permeating the air. While I was just unable to move from my position, I stared blankly at the lifeless body of the man I knew to be my father.

That he was dead. Carver Brown was deceased.

I wasn't all sure what I had just done but apparently it was enough for my mother to be as broken as she was. My eyes watered, I could feel my heart rate quickening again but this time I was in a state of panic. There were sirens surrounding us when my mother finally wandered over to my father’s body. Cheeks stained from her tears, she palmed his face as she sobbed uncontrollably. Her body shaking while attempting to form a coherent sentence.

I did this.

I clenched my jaw tightly as tears fell down my cheeks, my brother silently crying out. My hands trembled uncontrollably as I stood to my feet to walk to the front doors of the headquarters. Even though it was understood that jail was never an option again, I was prepared to surrender. The past two days have been turbulent – while I had a lot to be thankful for with the birth of my son there was so much to follow afterwards. A big event followed by a series of crippling and impactful events.

“Yo..Xae what you doing man?” Maddox questioned, lifting his head. His eyes widened when he noticed exactly what I was planning to do.

“I’ve fucked up.” I mumbled while staring at the numerous police cars parking in front of the building.

“Don’t say that shit bro, you snapped…you fucking snapped.”

As hard as he tried, there was no excusing my actions. He knew it. Murder was the most serious of the crimes I’ve committed, never getting caught there was a rush but the victim was my own blood. I didn’t feel he would be served any justice unless some kind of punishment was delivered to me. I had barely any fight in me to go against the system built to kill men like me.My mother was so broken by her grief and guilt, she didn’t even realize the reality of the situation. Her husband was dead, her only child was going to be imprisoned.

“You really are unrecognizable with this weak shit at the moment.” I heard Zane comment.

“You did this….” I whispered back to him.

“It was rightfully so, you heard with your own ears yet you want to be blind to the truth. Go ahead and kneel.” His words echoed until I could no longer hear him.

The police burst through the doors with guns drawn. “NYPD! On the ground now!”

The SWAT officers stormed in to restrain me as one pinned me against the wall, giving the others a chance to handcuff me. Detectives that I recognized and knew on first name basis walked right past me to my father’s body. When Maddox protested he was threatened with jail time and a murder accomplice charge, there were no questions asked because they couldn’t wait to book me for the crime. They had a win. When we arrived at the 19th precinct, I was processed and held after my rights were read. I chose not to speak so for all they knew I was mute. Even when the detectives threw out photos of Carver’s carcass I was still unbothered or appearing that way. The entire time I was held in that small cell there was only time to think about what was said. My thoughts also drifted to Rakim along with his purpose for initiating this. There were ample of ways to kill my father but he chose this route.

Revenge was now my goal.

For now I simply utilized some of the solitude to grieve my father that had raised me. Over the years, Carver was a difficult man to live with sometimes but he did have his moments as a loving parent. Closing my eyes, I allowed myself to reminisce, back to when I was only four years old.

“So you really are just going to give up like this? What the fuck did we talk about yesterday?” I heard Belial speak.

My eyebrows furrowed as I opened my eyes, “How did you get in here?” That was all I could ask, keeping as calm or normal as possible. She stood with her body leaning against the wall, arms folded with her lips pouted. A chuckle left her lips as she tucked her hair behind her ear.

“So your father is dead and you decided to take the wrap for it, never thought you would kneel for Rakim…” Belial decided to sit on a bench, crossing her legs.

“I killed him…” I mumbled. “I killed him because something in me had to do it, he told me something… and I just lost it.”

“Damn right you did. I don’t fucking like the guy that much but why take liberty to stab him anyhow? He was shot, you could have done nothing. Remember you have son, nobody will be able to bail you out of bullshit constantly.”

“I really don’t need you preaching right now, Reina.” I added heavy emphasis on her former name, the name that had long since been shed from her. A scoff then a cackle left her lips, her movements became paces. When her heels stopped clicking in the small space, her head turned in my direction.

“Far from a preacher, but wasn’t it you promising or wanting to not make the same mistakes that you supposedly left in the past?” she inquired.

“I did.” I remarked.

“Then stop fucking up.” With those words she turned on her heels and was gone again, disappearing to whatever circle of Hell she had come back from.

Much time had already passed since my imprisonment. Apparently it had gone so quickly that I found myself meeting the morning sunrise. The holding area had become busy and noisy so sleep was no longer achievable. I chose to sit in my cell to await my time while thinking of my last move. There was absolutely no doubt in my mind that Rakim would feel the vengeance for my father. If he didn’t know death or destruction before, he would know it now. I guess one thing his mother didn’t fucking teach him was manners—better still she hadn’t taught him the consequences of not respecting your elders. He will know my name and my wrath in every degree. That was my promise.

When the cell doors opened with a loud clank, the deputy called out my name. “Brown! You’re free to go. Someone loves you enough to pay that big ass bill on your head.”

Someone loves me enough is right.

MADDOX

In just twenty four hours, my entire family begun to fall to pieces.

Shiloh nearly lost her life giving birth to my nephew, my brother goes missing only to appear again at a meeting, our father is murdered, and now my mother is completely inconsolable. This was an eventful couple of days and now I sit outside of the precinct awaiting my brother to exit the front doors. My eyes darted on occasion while I closely observe my surroundings—at this point we had to remain alert. Rakim had gotten the upper hand just like he wanted. Lucifer’s death would weaken us or just maiming him would. Never would I have thought my own brother would finish the act but there was way more to this story.

All we needed was answers.

The first words I could hear from Xavier was him cursing out the officers as he exited.That brother of mine, my blood, you couldn’t help but love him. There was a slight tension between us because of what occurred, he felt he needed to isolate instead of closely analyzing the situation without ripping himself to pieces.

I watched him and the continuous bickering until I stepped up closer to the front entryway to grab the back of his shirt. With a gentle tugging, I pull him to my side in a headlock.

“If you didn’t already pay attention, the entire precinct and task force have a hard on for you. Quit while you’re ahead.”

“Everybody hates Xavier, everybody…the list is growing bro. I breathe and it’s an issue.” He chose to find humor in the situation but I knew him very well.

I closely studied his demeanor.

He was more quiet than normal so the remaining question was what exactly was happening inside of his head. I didn’t know what to say or do because I was grieving myself. But I didn’t blame him for what happened, because our father had already been badly wounded… there was no way of knowing if he’d make it if the stabbing didn’t occur. Always have I been the one to comfort and protect my brother — in this situation I didn’t know how.

Once we pulled up to our mother’s home, he hasn’t budged from the passenger side door. Recognizing his stubborn nature, I chuckled then stepped out to leave him to his devices. He’d eventually enter the house on his own. Scarlett immediately met me at the door with her eyes bloodshot red.

Her voice was solemn as she called for Xavier and for a brief moment I saw that connection. Mother and son were in an emotional war. She loved him, he loved her and hated himself, apart of her was uncertainty as to who he was.

“Mama... you both need to talk. You both need this...” I urged.

“Yeah… you’re absolutely right.” Her voice cracked as more tears threatened to fall.

She was indeed trying her best not to cry again. Scarlett gathered her strength and began walking toward the car. Xavier opened the passenger door to immediately pull her into an embrace, causing her to sob once more. After a brief moment the pair walked back toward the house. It was time to prepare to bury our father. It was indeed a funeral of the century..

AMANI

I had definitely lost track of whether it was day or night.

The cold beads of sweat that had formed on my forehead caused me to shake slightly. Lately I had been having a lot of those, nightmares, I couldn’t exactly remember or understand what they were about but it was something about today. Today was the day I felt my life was going to change drastically. I breathed in the smell of marijuana smoke, huffing as I curled my naked body under the covers. I was waiting to hear a voice, to hear some familiarity. If it had been Rakim — I would have rather played dead.

“You do know… your bourgeois ass can’t sit in the bed all day.” A voice I recognized stated.

I turned my head while clutching the sheet close to my body to cover my breasts and the rest of my frame.

“Who said I would sleep all day? Maybe I want to be fucking left alone?” I shot back. It was the attitude of “I’m supposed to keep watch over you.. take that up with my brother.”

It was Terrell.

I couldn’t help but chuckle. A soft smirk appeared on my face as he began to swallow hard, it was always fun to watch these niggas sweat over a woman like me. I dropped the sheet and began to run my fingers through my messy tresses.

As a captive and Rakim’s alleged guest, I may as well put on a little show. I strutted toward the bathroom with my hips swaying ever so seductively.

“So you’re going to watch me get dressed as well?” I purred.

His expression was priceless and a bit of a turn on as I twirled in the mirror. My fingers brushed against my puffy folds, sliding them against my clit.

“Uh... nah.. Ima let you handle your shit. I’ll be outside the door, we can’t be late.” Terrell’s face turned beet red as he rushed out of the room, leaving me to wash myself in peace.

My daily routine was that I would awake to someone watching me as though I were a child. So why not have a little fun in the process and taunt my “babysitters”? Rakim has his work cut out for him if he thinks I’m not going to defy him. He isn’t my father nor my man but that sense of having control apparently strokes his ego, my defiance excites him for some reason. I can only imagine that’s why he keeps me alive..

A black some what form fitting Vera Wang dress, a large black hat to sport with matching heels seemed approapriate enough for church. It had been years since I can recall setting foot in one but the process of a funeral I knew all too well. When I exited the bedroom, I saw all of the men gathered in the hallway. They were definitely good looking, fine as wine despite the attitudes they carried. Rakim flashed a bright grin, revealing his pearly whites as he wrapped his arm around my waist firmly.

“As my date, I have a proposition for you...”

“And that is?” I replied.

“To look just as beautiful as you are... you’re going to make someone a very happy man.”

The statement somewhat confused me, my brow lifted and my face twisted. There had to be a reason for this feeling I was having. We arrived at the church to see an entire line of cars. The turn out for a man named Carver Brown was indeed grand. When we stepped out of the car, it was Rakim who coached us to remain incognito. I refused to put on shades because these people didn’t even know me or anything about me. Once my eyes fell upon whom I believed was Carver’s wife, I lowered my head to walk toward the church, her cries growing louder.

The closer I stepped to the church, that feeling began growing and the visions that clouded my head wreaked havoc within me. There was a little boy, with bright eyes, a smirk, a man draped in black with skin as pale as the moon...terrifying eyes. There was this laughter and an infant that I didn’t recognized. I had ran face first into someone which caused me to stumble.

“Oh... I’m so sorry!” I spoke.

When I looked up into those eyes..I felt weak.

“I...I...uhm... excuse me.” I mumbled.

“You good.” He replied.

When the doors of the church were opened to those who remained after the family. I no longer wanted to sit with Rakim. I was much too curious. The pastor began the ceremony, the choir singing their hymns but I noticed that the man I bumped into began to fidget and shake. The outbursts of cries from his family and some close friends caused me to feel something that I was truly unable to feel since my mother had died. The shredding sadness, that same pain resurfaced—I felt grief for people I didn’t even know.

When it was time for eulogies, everyone was broken down and the funeral soon came to a benediction. It was time for them to bury... as everyone stood and it was time for the pallbearers to lift the casket, there was gunfire. I ducked and covered myself as everyone in the pews behind me scrambled. The moment my body hit the floor, my eyes made contact with an infant, with those eyes... the same eyes as the man I had bumped into prior before entering the church.

Before I could even move, I felt someone sheild me from the barrage of bullets that came flying toward me.

ZANE

Back to reality.

I didn’t even know this girl....but I wanted her. I dove head first into the gunfire just to save her which was something I never truly cared to do. I roughly shoved her into the pews with the other bystanders to fire back at Rakim and his goons. Maddox was hot on my trail as others followed my lead, little did he realized he had entered the church out manned and over powered. The disrespecting of Carver’s homegoing indeed sparked an outrage. It was my family that was in danger, my family being disrespected.

There was no other choice but to fight back.

“Yo pull back man!” Rakim barked as they began to take cover and run from the church. No one was leaving until I put a bullet in them. The last bullet to discharge had pierced whom I assumed to believe was Rakim’s shoulder.

“Ah!” The smell of his poisonous blood filled the air, I definitely got him but there was no way this bullet would kill him.

Until next time...

I finally turned to face the beautiful woman I saw behind me, but she was already gone. My eyebrows furrowed as I finally ran from the church to see if she would be spotted in the streets.

Nothing.

“Fuck....” I mumbled. Something in me said I would see her again but I was still curious...

“Who was she?” Xavier and I finally spoke aloud in complete sync.

#chris brown #chris brown fanfic #chris brown fanfiction #ASAP Rocky #high end #heartbreak on a full moon #yaris sanchez #yaris sanchez ff #asap rocky ff #asap mob #Cassie Ventura #michael b jordan #team breezy #august alsina #trey songz

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moskat-22 · 7 years ago

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A Civil Conversation

The last thing Ivan could remember clearly is the droning sound of Arthur babbling about some political nonsense that no one is going to pay attention to. He knew meetings could get tedious, but it never to got the point where he would just fall asleep in the middle of one. Meetings were always this drawn out and filled to the brim with the usual “let’s focus on helping out each other as fellow nations rather than being complete asses to one another,” it was the same thing every month or two. Rinse and repeat. Yet, the Russian never fell asleep. He always managed to get through the meetings, yes, but was he paying attention half the time? No. They usually became nothing more than a fuzzy memory in the back of his head, never to be thought of or referenced again.

So why was this time different?

The platinum blond awoke slowly, like he was waking up with the world’s worst hangover. His head throbbed and there was this muffled voice that was either saying something to him, or laughing at his misery. Either way, Ivan could conclude that this was a rude awakening. He sat up in his assigned chair, rubbing his eyes sleepily before blinking. The room was unusually dark and it appeared no one else was in the room with him. He turned around and stared out the windows. It, too, was strangely dark. The Russian forced himself out of his seat and approached the window, attempting to spot the time of day based on the sun’s positioning in the sky. However, there was no sun, nor moon, hanging above. It was eerily vacant of any light source. He took a step back.

The throbbing in Ivan’s head lightened up, just a bit, to make it bearable. Hands went into coat pockets and his right hand felt a strange rectangular object, his phone. Whipping it out, gloved thumbed went to quickly type in the password only to freeze in place. The power button was pressed, then it was held. Nothing. It remained black screened, much to Ivan’s disappointment. His last resort was an electrical clock that hung on the wall, but it seemed to have been...forcefully removed. All that remained of it were the wires that sparked occasionally, the electricity flowing through the currents having no where else to escape.

Ivan began to feel uneasy. He decided to focus on figuring out the time later, for know, he had to find the others. Being along for too long tended to come with its fair share of negative effects, especially for nation kind. The tall male strode across the room until he reached the double doors and swiftly went to pull them open. The doors remained still. Then they were pushed. The doors didn’t budge. The Russian was beginning to panic, tugging at the doorknobs with all his might, hoping to break the doors off their hinges if he had to. They remained stuck where they were, taunting him with their presence.

He felt trapped. There was no way to escape. No way to tell time, to contact anyone, to leave. He was stuck in this room, all alone with nothing more than his own thoughts, and that scared him. It genuinely terrifies him. The silence pierced through his soul and ate away at his conscience, the need to make noise or say something to keep this defeaning quietness at bay becoming a stronger urge by the second. Ivan felt his loneliness suffocating him, the lack of company served as a permanent reminder that he had no one to talk to. His form collapsed to the floor as tears flooded his vision. He curled in on himself, hands covering his ears as if to block the harmful silence that persisted to torment him. Ivan wanted to scream, cry out for the others, ask them to come back, to stay by his side, don’t leave him alone like this.

And he did.

He yelled.

He sobbed.

He begged.

Nothing but silence greeted him. Ivan couldn’t keep the tears at bay anymore. He didn’t want this. He didn’t want to be alone anymore. He wanted company, he wanted friends, he wanted to be loved. What was he doing wrong? What did everyone else have that Ivan didn’t? He had a heart, he had a soul, he was just like them. They left him though, never inviting him along for anything fun. He was never asked if he wanted to go to a bar with others, he was never invited to parties and celebratory events, he didn’t have anyone to go to to hang out with after these things. Yet he still holds onto that hope. But even that was fleeting from him. Still, the silence persisted, leeching off of the large male’s fears.

“...this is painful to watch.”

“H-Huh?”

Unfurling from the safety of his fetal position, Ivan stared up at the only other being in the room. Himself. But it wasn’t him. He stared down at the Russian with vividly expressive pink eyes; malice, spite, hatred swirled in them, just to name a few. Ivan shuddered in this man’s presence. He scooted back a few inches. The other simply watched him, observing his reactions as though he were merely a test subject. He did not seem to pose as a threat, however. Not yet. The silence that reigned supreme did not last long as Ivan cleared his throat, finding his voice.

“You’re...”

“You, yes.”

“Then, why are you–“

“Different?”

“Y-Yes.”

His broken reflection shrugged, tucking away his hands into the pockets of his uniform. The military cap he wore provided the right amount of shade over his eyes to give him an intimidating look, one that shook Ivan down to the core. Couple that with the unnerving calmness of his voice, and it renders the lonesome nation helpless. The pink eyed Russian thought for a moment, nonchalauntly gazing around the darkened room as though it held answers. He approached the table and wiped the table top with his pointer finger, clearing away any dust that might have clung to the glove.

“I am simply you, a different part of you. The “you” that...desires more. You, to put it as kindly as I can, are dead. ‘Россия’ no longer exists in this world. I, ‘СССР,’ have come to take your place.”

The news hits hard. Ivan is suddenly on his feet, disbelief in his eyes as he desperately tries to understand what he was just told. He couldn’t be gone, he was still here. This was all a bad dream, he’ll wake up any second due to Alfred’s noisy mouth and Ludwig snapping at him for being too loud. Francis and Arthur would be bickering while Yao uses the opportunity to get some extra cash from them, Kiku watching quietly from the sidelines and Feliciano would be napping (or eating pasta).

“You know what I said is true, Ivan.”

He’ll wake up.

“Don’t deny yourself the truth.”

Any second now.

“You’re only hurting yourself by ignoring me.”

He has to wake up.

The reflection sighs. He is soon standing beside Ivan, kneeling down to pat his back as the other sobs into his coat sleeve. Pink eyes soften at the sight, the heart that felt out of place in his chest pounding sharply. It felt like a knife twisting and cutting jaggedly into the flesh around it. He eventually rose, leaving the Russian to wallow in his misfortune. As the only other being approached the impassable double doors, he stopped. Sparing a glance behind him, he spotted a pair of dull purple eyes watching him from the shadows that fell over Ivan’s face. With another regretful sigh, he pressed on.

The doors swung open.

The meeting had not yet finished as the platinum blond stirred in his seat. It took a moment to adjust to the lighting in the room, as well as the cacophony that beat down his eardrums. After the constant noise and bright lighting no longer bothered him, the tall male sat upright in his chair. A dominant shade of pink had replaced the enigmatic purple everyone was used to seeing. The noise died down as a defeaning silence filled the room. His right hand dug into a coat pocket, fished out the fully charged cellphone, and pressed the power button: December 28th, 1922. A smile that did not reflect the dark emotions swirling in his eyes grew on his lips. He rose to his feet and bowed properly to the masses watching him.

“I am Viktor Braginsky, the personification of the СССР, or Soviet Union for short. As of today, I am an official country and look well to doing business with you all. Don’t worry about your friend, I promise to take very good care of him and his people.”

#short story #aph russia #aph soviet union #what else should I tag this #idk #ignore typos please #I got no sleep last night #RIP me #have fun

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