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lolitakirstein · 8 months ago

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Hey Neighbor Pt 9

Part 8

WC: ~1.5k

AN: I'm so worried about writing longer chapters in case they are too boring. but I hate splitting things up when I'm on a roll. ha

You watched as the man you had run into exited Toji’s house 30 minutes later. Unable to hear what the two were discussing you relied on their body language to give you some hint as to who he was. The men seemed formal towards each other yet relaxed; Toji with his hands in his pocket or across his chest, the other guy casually lighting a cigarette while showing his back to toji. There must be some level of trust between them, then. Before the man leaves, you notice him gesture towards your house. You draw back further from the window, afraid of being seen.

Once the car is out of sight and Toji returns to his house, you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. Should you ask Toji who he was or was that being too nosy? Not like i’ll get a straight answer, he refuses to tell me anything, you think, settling on being nonchalant about it.

Fortunately, you had work to keep you focused. And most fortunately, your hangover was minimal. Nothing more than a slight throb thanks to the pain meds Toji had offered you. You become robotic as you scan, sort, and shelve books and answer the same boring questions from customers.

Before you can notice, it’s your lunch break. You sit in the small cafe that the bookstore offers, downing a hot chai latte and checking your phone. One message from the work group chat and one from Toji that was sent a few hours ago

Toji: You ok?

You fight back the urge to send, “I can’t tell you right now, it’s not the right time,” instead, pocketing your phone and playing hard to get. You clock back into work, ready to start the second half of your shift.

Wait, am I wanting him to chase me or something? This guy who knows things but won't tell me? Why am I trying to act like this is a dude i’ve swiped on Tindr? This guy has secrets, deep ones. Ones I probably don’t wanna know—

“Excuse me,” a soft voice snaps you out of your internal monologue. You spin around and are met with a man. His dark auburn hair is close-cropped at the sides while the top fashionably brushes just above his deep brown eyes. A soft shadow of stubble peppers his strong jaw.

“Oh, hello. Can I help you?” you quickly revert to the robotic motions of a customer service provider.

“Yeah, I was looking for your classical section.”

“Are you looking for anything in particular,” you ask after leading him to the designated section of the store.

“What would you recommend?”

A question every worker hates. “Well, can never go wrong with Doestrevsky.”

“Ah, yes, I read Crime and Punishment in school. Incredible prose,” he responds.

Your heart lifts at finally being able to discuss books with someone. “Indeed, if you like that, you might like The Idiot. Same themes of human nature and society.” You grab a copy off the shelf and hand it to me.

“Well I’d be an idiot if I didn’t take the advice of such a beautiful, well-read woman,” he says coyly as you walk to the counter. You internally groan but also can’t help but blush at the compliment, though the joke was indeed awful.

“Let me know how you like it?” you say after ringing him up and bagging his purchase.

“How about we discuss it over dinner sometime,” he cocks an auburn brown.

“Oh,” you stammer, thrown off by the sudden offer. It’d been so long since you’d been on a date you forgot what it was like to be asked out. “Sure!”

“Great I’ll keep you posted on my progress,” the man who you now know as Connor pockets his phone after you exchange numbers. “I look forward to discussing it with you and hearing your beautiful thoughts.”

Ok, he was laying it on a little thick but you don't mind. The only interaction you had had with a man for the past few months had been with Toji. And those interactions were hardly civil, much less flirty. Though Toji tended to tease, it was mostly to throw you off the topic of his secrets.

The rest of your shift goes by quickly and you arrive home before the sun goes down. As you get out of your car, you notice Toji sitting on his porch steps. You try to ignore him but ignoring him is like trying to ignore a bear about to devour you. You give a wave, walking fast to your house.

“You ok?” Toji asks, still sitting on the steps. Damn, he either can’t take a hint or is just stubborn.

“Yeah, thanks,” you respond fumbling your keys out of your pocket. You drop them. Cursing yourself for being so easily intimidated by him you stoop to pick them up. Toji’s feet appear in your line of vision. You look up at the giant man standing over you. You want to feel afraid, but you can’t deny the absolute feral part of your brain at the sight of him standing over you.

“Why didn’t you text me back?” the possessive tone didn’t help dampen the submissive part of your psyche. Damn, why do I have to be such a whore for crazy men?

“I was working,” you squeak out, picking your keys up and walking to your front steps.

“I wanna talk,” Toji says behind you as you march up the steps and unlock your door.

“It’s fine Toji. Nothing to talk about,” you turn around, Toji is standing at the bottom of your porch steps.

“There is,” Toji huffs a breath. “A lot, actually.”

You were not in the mood for this. Your day ended on a good note and you intend for it to stay that way. “Look, whatever it is. I don’t care.”

“Yes you do,” Toji takes one step up.

You shake your head, even though you were screaming yes in your head. You will not let him win. “Nah, I’m good. I really couldn't care less what your little secrets are. I don’t even know you.”

“It’s not that, it’s just—”

The notification on your phone interrupts the moment. You reach into your pocket for it and notice a text from Connor.

Connor: I hope you had a good rest of your day. I must say, you made mine :)

Oh, the cringe was off the charts with this guy. But you can’t keep the stupid smile from appearing on your face. Followed by a giggle. Shit I’m giggling over a guy. I need laid

“Who’s that?” Toji asks sharply.

“No one,” you shake your head.

“No one huh,” Toji takes another step up, finally standing in front of you. “‘No one’ got you smiling like a goof?”

“You have your secrets, I have mine,” you shrug.

“You don't blush like that for just no one,” Toji teases, he steps so close you can feel the heat off of him. “Now who could possibly be making sweet little y/n blush so much besides me?”

You crane your neck up to look at him, refusing to show he’s affecting you. “I can’t tell you. It’s not the right time.”

Finally, you manage to knock him off his game by throwing his words back at him. He steps back, putting some distance between you. A scowl wrinkles his brow and his jaw ticks as he clenches his teeth. You smirk, pleased with yourself. “Good night toji.”

Toji

Toji stares at the door you slammed in his face, stricken dumb by the sass you dished out. He had expected this to be a moment of confession, finally getting it all out in the open. Now standing at your closed door, Toji has no choice but to retreat back home.

After dinner and tucking Megumi into bed, Toji collapses onto his king-size bed. He turns his head to the window, towards your house. The lamp on your bedside table creates a soft glow from your window. He watches as you enter the bedroom. Your eyes on your phone, smiling.

Toji clenches his jaw. Here he was ready to start having an honest conversation with you, and you were too busy with this mysterious ‘no one.’ He hated being this way, but he couldn’t deny that he felt a sense of protectiveness over you.

He watches you throw your phone on the bed, the giddy smile still on your lips—perfect lips, soft delicate lips he’s thought about kissing on multiple occasions. With your back to the window, you remove your shirt and toss it to the chair before you begin sliding your pants down. As much as Toji would love nothing more than to watch, he has enough decency to look away, he’s not THAT much of a pervert.

He reaches into his back pocket, depositing the contents beside him.

First is his cellphone which he text Shiu–I need to borrow a few of your tech geeks.

The second, is a sealed envelope. No address, no street names or numbers. Just 3 words written in delicate script:

il mio agnellino

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foreverlilmeowmeow · 2 years ago

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What are Friends For? (Hawks x Reader)

Arthur's Note: Hey, guys and gals! Sorry, I've been away and not writing as much. I've been working on some other projects and just haven't had much of a muse to write anything so, happily enough here is the full piece of my last Hawks x Reader and hope you guys enjoy. (Sorry if the ending felt a little rushed, I'm not really good at endings, but I tried.) Anyway, enjoy this beautiful piece and just to let you all know I am taking requests! So please fill free to ask away! my main topics recently are ~Apex ~My Hero Academia ~Overwatch and so much more! So please fill free to request stuff! I'm ready to write again! ~~~~~~~~~~~~

Summary: Hawks had been away on a mission and Mirko finally got you to leave the house..

Warnings: slight depression, sadness, anxiety, happy ending, nothing to serious to worry about.

Words: 1931 ~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had been months since you last saw Keigo.

He was on some special mission and would be gone for quite some time. The apartment feeling lonely as you were use to the loud red feathered birdman stomping around in his cladded boots that when you finally realized that you were alone you felt like a part of you was missing. A part of yourself.

*ring ring*

The sound of your phone went off and the name Mirko appeared on the screen. You sighed not wanting to answer it but knowing well enough she would bother you until you did or she would just show up at your house unannounced and walts in like she owned the place. Her voice was soft as she was just checking in making sure you were okay.

"Hey, y/n, how are you holding up? I know it's been a minute since I last checked in but I just wanted to make sure my birdman's girlfriend was still alive." She joked towards the end as it got a soft chuckle out of you.

"Yeah, I'm still alive… wouldn't want to hurt Keigo any other way." You say as you were laying on the shared king size bed you and Keigo laid on nights he was actually home.

"Good, good, I'm glad to hear." Mirko said as she too was laying in bed. She and you had gotten close over the time as she kept you in check when Hawks was away. The poor girl feeling stressed to the max as if the time you do decide to end things with him would have to deal with Keigo and his outbreak plus yours. The bunny girl hoping, no praying, things worked out as she hoped nothing bad ever happened and that maybe someday she would get an invitation to y' all's wedding. She supported you so much that she hoped marriage was your guys' end game.

"Why are you calling, Mirko? It's nearly 1am… this is later than normal… I-is… is Keigo.. is Hawks okay?" You asked as she was probably the only other person who knew Hawks' actual name.

"Y-yeah! Yeah! He's fine! He and I haven't really chatted since you last spoke to him so were on the same boat on just waiting to see if he returns or not… you know him… all work and no play…" Mirko said as she laughed nervously.

You sighed rolling over to look out the balcony to hope to see your loving boyfriend stand there, waiting to be let in. The city lights beaming as you lived close to town but not close enough to actually be in town, "Then why are you calling me at 1am…"

Mirko sighed, "I heard you haven't left the house in a few days… so I was making sure you were okay… I was also going to invite you out for lunch or dinner because I know you'd be awake because usually this is the time Hawks usually gets home… so I knew you would be awake to chat…" she said as it was true. You started sleeping more during the day and staying up late at night hoping one of these nights your loveable birdman would come home and be with you once again.

"I don't know…" you mumbled, turning back to face the empty room of your apartment, "I just haven't been in the mood to really do anything since Keigo left… I just… I guess I'm depressed, Rumi… I'm depressed because it's been months since I've last heard from him."

Mirko nodded her head understanding. Hawks was one of the very few heroes she got along with and knowing how busy he can get with the commission you're barely lucky if you get a full 24 hours with the man.

"Well, did you wanna give it a try and Mayne come hangout? We could even stay at my place if you want. We don't have to go and eat out. We can order take out and watch a movie or something. You know girl time." She smiled brightly hoping that you would say yes.

You bit your lip as you really didn't want to leave your California king size bed, but the more you stayed in it the more you wished you were in your lover's arms.

"Fine, but if anything happens and I wanna go home.. you have to let me go home.. you hear me?"

Mirko laughed, "I hear you, I hear you." She said as she raised her hands in defense, "So, shall I pick you up or you gonna drive over?"

You sighed once again, "I'll drive. I want that exit if I need it…"

"Sweet! See you tomorrow then." Mirko squealed as you just hid more into your covers.

"See you tomorrow…"

°• ♡♡♡♡♡ •°

“God, why did I agree to do this?” you groaned as you finally arrived at Mirko’s house. You and her had decided to make it a girls’ day as you had been trapped in your house since Hawks had left and honestly being away from home was nice, but the thought of him coming back any minute made you feel guilty as you wanted to be there when he returned.

“You agreed to this because you’ve been sitting at home doing nothing while your boyfriend is kicking ass saving the world. You need to live your life too y/n not just sit around hoping that Hawks will return and save you from the dark that is lingering in your head.” Mirko said as she and you were now sitting in her living room watching some rom com talking about why you were here specifically.

“Well, I’m sorry that I’m such a party pooper and would rather be snuggled up in my bed reading a book or hell waiting for Hawks to return. He deserves all the love he can get, you know.” you countered stuffing your face full of Chinese food.

“I know and he will, but you need to take care of yourself too. Sitting in that giant penthouse isn’t going to make you money and even if he’s paying for it you gotta better yourself. I’m sure he wouldn’t want to hear that you've been sitting in the house mopping away because he isn’t around to make you smile.” Mirko said as she waved her metal chopsticks around while she talked.

You sighed, “Yeah, you're right… but I hate that you're right because honestly living alone again kinda sucks. It's like I got used to him being around and then poof he’s gone and I’m on my own again. As if Hawks never existed, you know.”

It was Mirko’s time to nod her head as she stuffed her face full of what looked to be orange chicken and smiled, “Well, even if it was your imagination, I’m happy our friendship was formed, because being alone sucks, but what doesn’t suck is you.” she said as you smiled back.

“You're right, our friendship is pretty good. I’m happy we became friends.” You said as there was a light thud outside Mirko’s balcony and in through the sliding door outside was the man you and your best friend were talking about.

“I thought I heard someone talking about me, ladies.” Hawks said as you quickly rushed to your feet, nearly tossing what little fried rice you had and jumping into your man’s arms. You didn’t care if you just embarrassed yourself. You just wanted to be in Hawks arms once more and know for sure he was real this time.

“Jeez, what makes you think you can waltz right into my place, Keigo? Couldn’t wait till she got home and see her then?” Mirko grumbled as she stabbed her chicken a few times before finally eating it.

“Sorry, I heard my name come up a few times and just had to make sure both of you were okay. Next time I’ll text you.” Hawks said as he hugged you tightly in his arms.

“Well, I for one am glad you're back home safely. Being away from you was killer, but I do have to say I think I might agree with Mirko on this one. We were having girl talk and with you being here we can’t have girl talk.” you said as you looked over at Mirko and winked at her.

“Yeah what she said!” Mirko said trying to back you up. You were excited your boyfriend was home and safe, but another part of you was happy that Mirko actually got you out of the house and out of your funk. You had been in bed just laying there waiting for him to return home and now that he was indeed back you just couldn’t help but wish he was gone for a little bit longer.

“Wow, I wouldn’t expect that to come from you baby bird, do you really mean that?” Hawks said as he looked down at you still in his arms.

You nodded, “yeah, Mirko and I haven’t really been hanging out and being here has been really fun. So, if you don’t mind I can stop by your place after I’m done here and..” you stopped talking as Mirko made some gagging noises and blushed, “What?! You guys are being gross and I honestly don’t want to hear it. So…” Mirko said as the three of you laughed. Hawks sighing as he let you go and asked, “What time will I be seeing you?”

“Maybe later tonight?” you said as you looked back at Mirko and then back at him.

“Are you trying to kidnap my girlfriend?” Hawks playfully asked Mirko as she smirked, “Maybe? Is it working?”

You laughed as you removed yourself from Hawks’ arms and smiled, “Is it kidnapping if I agree to it?”

Mirko shook her head, “No, but just know I may not give you back if you stay the night. Honestly, I like having you around and might ask you to just move in.”

“Like as roommates?” You asked as you looked over at Mirko with an arched brow.

“Exactly like roommates.” Mirko smiled as she finished her orange chicken and tossed the small take out box in the trash.

“But aren’t you gone as well? So it wouldn’t be any different if I was at Hawks or here.”

Mirko nodded her head, “True, but at least you wouldn’t have to worry as much as I’m not on the higher missions like your boyfriend over here.”

Hawks gasped as he moved to the couch you and Mirko were sitting at and got comfy, “Just because I’m the number two hero, doesn't mean I just work all the damn time. I just have other missions I have to do, it just takes me longer to get home, but I always come home. You know that right, baby bird?”

You gave a solid nod.

“Good, now since we're done talking about who’s living where. I’ll leave you two be. I know I just sat down and got comfy, but I want my two favorite girls to have girl time so-” Hawks leaned down and gave you a kiss on the cheek and told you he would see you later that evening. Mirko giving the big bird man a hug showed him back the way he came and sat back down, you on the other hand smiled knowing that even though you had missed him, seeing him for the small amount you did made you happy. You were happy he was safe. You were happy that he was home again.

#hawks x reader #hawks x self insert #hawks x y/n #hawks x you #hawks boku no hero academia #hawks #hawks bnha #my hero academia hawks #x reader #reader insert #x reader fic #my hero academia #keigo takami x reader #keigo tamaki #keigo tamaki x you #keigo tamaki x y/n #hawks x female reader #keigo tamaki x female reader

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taechaos · 4 years ago

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Blackmail

pairing: bully!Jungkook x nerdy!fem!Reader

genre: drabble, smut, college au

synopsis: Jimin offers you information on Jungkook, but your friendship is misconstrued by Jungkook who ends it singlehandedly with one video of you professing your love to him between moans.

warnings: dubcon, fingering, degredation, mild squirting, manipulation

word count: 2.8k

a/n: jealous kook doesn't realize he's jealous. this part is a bit extreme, so beware ><

One doesn't come across someone like Jungkook every day. It's fate that you met him in your first year of college, extending to your second where he grows closer to you; fair, it's clear that he only intends to use you for his academic success, but you've deluded yourself into thinking you're in love with each other. Growing up, you only had your dysfunctional family to teach you about how to love, how to think. As long as Jungkook needs you, he will love you, and you’re willing to do anything to be with him, only him. You need him to live.

Birds sing in the background as you lay on your stomach on the grass of the yard across the campus. It’s sunny and breezy, the perfect spring day as you work on Jungkook’s research paper due next month. You compiled multiple credible sources in a separate file to create an outline for his essay the moment he forwarded the assignment to you. You want him to praise you, pet your hair, kiss your cheek for starting so early so he can turn it in before anyone else. He would be proud, flashing you his pearly whites and adoring eyes. The reward motivates you to work harder and you’re relentlessly skimming through articles while counting down the minutes of Jungkook's lecture. He'll be outside with his friends in 7 minutes.

With a bad childhood, you don’t care to befriend many people. You only have a few friends to keep you company and you’re socially awkward outside of that group. You’re content, so you steer clear of boys who try to sabotage your relationship with Jungkook. Jimin, however, doesn’t get the memo.

Typing away on your laptop, a shadow looms over you to give you a break from the sunlight. You glance up and stop swinging your legs absentmindedly when you recognize the shadow; it’s a boy with frames and a tight collar adorning his neck.

Park Jimin is a typical nerd whereas you’re more of a closeted nerd. When you’re in love, you usually put more effort into your appearance to impress the one on your mind, but that doesn’t work with Jungkook. It’s always other men giving you their attention through second glances, and that includes Jimin.

“What do you want?” you rudely greet. Jimin is ruthless with his attempts at pursuing you; he’s the perfect gentleman, and often volunteers to do group tasks with you. He is never mean to anyone, and has a squeaky clean reputation, but his only flaw is that he can’t take a hint. You don't bother being friendly to him because you don't want friends.

"I want to know why you look so happy," he bends over to curiously glance at your screen, "while doing homework?"

You slam the monitor closed to stop his ogling. "You wouldn't get it. And stop watching me," you sternly say.

"What's your secret?" he grins and sits down on the grass next to you with crossed legs. His upper body serves as a shade and you stop squinting.

"There is no secret, I was just in a good mood until you came along." You're not upset, but you don't want to lead Jimin on and he won't leave unless you blow him off.

"Thinking of Jungkook?" he teases with a mischievous smile.

"Are you stalking me?"

"No, you're just too obvious," he chuckles, but the sound is strained. You don't notice his melancholy as he continues, "You were doing his homework again?"

You shift on your propped elbows a little uncomfortably. Jimin doesn't need to know what you do in your free time. "Yes," you answer anyway.

"You know he has daddy issues?"

Your eyes round as your discomfort dissipates instantly; he's piqued your interest. "Really?"

"Yeah, he has a tough exterior but he's actually a real softie."

An involuntary smile carves on your face before it falters as you ask, "How do you know this?"

"We went to high school together. I can tell you some stories if you want," he boasts when he realizes he has your attention. The context makes his heart sink, but when he imagines your lovesick grin is directed at him, it fills him with joy.

"Tell me, tell me! Please."

"Weeell," he draws with a lopsided grin, "don't tell him I told you this, but he used to hate girls. I don't know if he still does, but back then he couldn't even stand talking to a girl."

"Why?" your eyes are wide with interest as you whisper.

He shrugs, "No idea, but he hit a girl once when she wouldn't stop clinging onto him. Not like drop-kick her," he laughs, "he just shoved her on the ground. Be careful with him, okay? He can be very aggres-"

"You guys forming a nerd club now?"

You gasp when you hear Jungkook's voice. When you look up at him, he's almost glaring as his eyes flicker from you to Jimin. You're gleeful at his approach, because he never comes to you unless it's about a new assignment. It flutters your heart to see him without any papers in his hand.

You don't take his subtle insult to heart as you immediately respond, "No, we were just talking. H-Hi."

"Pull down your skirt, you look like a whore. I can see your panties all the way from the gates," he seethes in distaste. You instantly sit up with a blush and tug your skirt down to your knees. He looks back at Jimin who's glaring at him under his lashes, "The fuck's your deal?"

"Nothing," Jimin grits. Although he hates Jungkook's guts, he's too smart to fight a lost cause. He has his own set of muscles, but it isn't enough. It's best to accept defeat now.

"Did you start on the paper?" Jungkook asks you.

"Yes, I-"

"Good," he cuts you off and crouches to peck your lips by pulling the back of your neck. You're stunned when he pulls away and nonchalantly walks off to his friends.

Jimin follows him with his eyes and mutters under his breath, "douche."

Your heart is racing and you clamp a hand over your chest as a lovestruck smile spreads across your face. You know this is your end of the bargain, but it never fails to shrivel you up in delight.

"Are you two dating?" he mumbles as he pulls on the grass with a pout.

"Something like that," you exhale as you caress your lips.

It’s become routine to link up with Jimin where he reminisces his high school memories and you don’t doubt a single word he says unless it sheds a bad light on Jungkook. You’ve learned so much about him in the past few days, and you’re eager to know more. He likes energy drinks to this day, he was athletic in school and often got into fights. He began interacting with girls when he entered college, as Jimin says, “only for a quick fuck.”

Though it hurts Jimin that you only talk to him for information on Jungkook, he can’t bring himself to care when you hang onto every word he says with a glint in your eyes like you’re doing now.

You're sitting in the bustling cafeteria across from Jimin, sipping on a homemade strawberry lemonade from your thermos, and you don't notice Jungkook glancing at your table every now and then. It is the first time he doesn't feel your heavy gaze on him. Jimin does notice however, because he is facing him every time he receives a threatening ferile look.

"He could become a lawyer with how much he blackmailed the teachers to give him a good grade," Jimin tells you as he glances back and forth between you and Jungkook. "He's quite dangerous, you know. He's manipulative, a liar and has no empathy-"

"He's clever," you counter defensively, "he knows how to get around the system."

He makes a disgruntled noise from the back of his throat with a grimace. "I don't think the judge would listen to that."

You laugh at his comparison of the conversation to a court hearing. Jimin can be funny sometimes, and you have to admit that he's not that bad of a friend either. You've come to enjoy his company without the topic of Jungkook the past few days, but talking about him is always appreciated.

"Are you the judge then?" you cheekily ask.

"I might as well be, since I'm not biased like a certain someone," he teases with a grin.

"A lawyer has to see the bright side of things, but if I was the prosecutor, I wouldn't tell you that your lecture is in five minutes."

His smile falters as his eyes widen; you remember his schedule? He ran late for a lecture yesterday, but he’s in disbelief that you reminded him today. "Th-Thanks," he breathes as he packs up his belongings before giving you a curt, shy nod. His heart pounds when he walks away, and he resists the urge to look back at you.

It's a good idea, because that's when Jungkook settles down on his former seat.

"I'm thinking you might be forgetting who you belong to," he starts as he gets comfortable on the stiff chair. You instantly smile at his appearance.

"No, I'm very well aware of it." Your tone is high-pitched in excitement.

"It wasn't a question."

"Oh..."

“You talk more than you work,” he observes with a quirk of his brow. “One would think another nerd would be a better influence on you.”

“I work at night,” you defend worriedly, “I promise I’m not slacking off. Can I get a kiss please?”

You’re so adorable when you’re needy. He hides a smirk with a bite of his lip; he thrives from your loyalty to him, but he knows Jimin is a threat to it. He wants you to stop talking to that freak, and he justifies it as a concern for his grades. “I’ll kiss you when you’re not procrastinating. Do you think you deserve even a pat on the head?”

“I do! I’m halfway done with the research paper, please Jungkook,” you beg pathetically, “I-I’ll show it to you, I have it with me right now.” You start unzipping the case of your laptop until he holds up a hand for you to stop.

“You’re going to read it to me, but not here.”

When he stands up, so do you in a haste. He leaves the cafeteria with you hot on his tail, almost jogging when his strides are much bigger compared to yours. You resemble a clueless lamb following a lion, desperate to hold his claws with your hooves. You don’t know where he’s leading you as you walk down the halls until you stop in front of a door. You’re about to freak out when he swings open the door, but you realize the lecture room is empty.

“You want me to read here?” you inquire meekly. It’s a little intimidating to do it in complete silence, because you have a tendency to stutter when reading out loud and you don’t want to embarrass yourself in front of Jungkook where no one can talk over you.

“Yup.” He snatches your laptop case from your hand with the handle, and roughly opens it before placing the device on the front row wooden desk. It’s a large hall, and the desks stretch out to the half of the room. You’re feeling stage fright for no particular reason; it feels like reverse claustrophobia. “Open the document and give me your phone.”

You don’t question him and hand in your phone before going through your files on the laptop. Jungkook is looking through your contacts and grins when he finds himself saved as: the love of my life ♡. Jimin is saved by his name, and he finds his WhatsApp through his information below. Once he opens your empty chat with him, he switches to your camera and pushes your back so you’re bent over the desk. You sharply inhale and ask, “Kook?”

“Don’t get distracted now,” he lightly scolds and starts pulling down your pants. You stopped wearing skirts after the incident a week ago to appease him. You stammer with your back arched, and your ass is on full display for him. It’s humiliating. “Start reading.”

“H-Humans are- Jungkook?” you warily look back at Jungkook when he slides the slit of your panties to the side.

“Are you slacking off?” he condescends.

You bite your lip anxiously and continue reading, “Humans are social animals that n-need social interaction,” Jungkook spits in his hand, “the extent of our social relationships is the most important predictor of h-happiness.” You squeal when you feel wet fingers graze your folds, but you know better than to stop and ask what he’s doing.

“Continue,” he coaxes softly as he brushes his fingertips over your pussy lips.

“Um, o-one of the main reasons our brains have developed the way they have is so that we can be social,” you speak between shaky breaths. Your cheeks are tinted crimson with embarrassment from his touches; why is he pleasuring you when he specifically told you, you didn’t deserve any? “Being happy a-all of the time is neither possible nor desirable.”

“Is it now?” He slips a finger in your cunt and you involuntarily let out a cry as you push your body forward. You don’t notice him holding up your phone behind you while slowly sliding his finger in and out of you. His saliva is mixing with your arousal as you answer in a gasp, “Yes.”

“Tell me why.”

“B-Because negative feelings are natural. When it comes to negative feelings, the most important thing to remember is to learn,” you pause to exhale with quivering lips, “to control certain potentially harmful thoughts.” You whine his name when another finger is added to your heat. You’re moving your hips back and forth until he slaps your wet folds as a warning. “Sorry,” you peep and continue in a breath, “Happiness all of the time entails epistemic irrationality.”

It’s difficult to keep your eyes open when you just want to indulge in his thrusts, but you’re encouraged to stop reading when he doesn’t comment on your moans. His pace is quickening and you chase his fingers with your hips, cum dripping down his wrist as you mewl.

“You enjoying yourself, whore?”

You nod and whimper, “So much.” You’re clutching the edge of the desk as he fingers you with fervor.

“And you're my girl?”

“Yes, all yours, I love you so much,” you pant, not stopping for a moment to question his words. He has a full view of your sopping wet cunt on the camera, and he lightly blows on you, making you shiver. He’s recording you confess your love for him while getting fingered.

“Only me?” he presses.

“Only you, Jungkook, I love you more than anything,” you slur as you start to feel a knot in your stomach.

“Then pee.”

“Wh-What?”

“Touch your clit and pee.” He removes his fingers from your clenching hole and takes a step back. “Prove your love to me.”

You mourn the loss of his hand while staring wide-eyed at the floor. You’re contemplating his demand as your hand slowly reaches down to your clit. Is he asking you to squirt? Your breathing is shallow as you near your climax, and you still don’t know if you’ll go through with his requirement.

It drips out in tiny drops as you come undone, moaning as clear liquid spills out of you for only a few seconds.

“Good girl, my good little girl,” Jungkook whispers as he intently watches you humiliate yourself in the name of love. You’re twitching and trembling in shame when he stops recording you and sends it to Jimin without a second’s waste. “Are you okay, baby?”

You hum with a pout as you collect yourself by standing up straight, a sway in your posture.

“Give me your panties, you’ve made a mess on the floor,” he chastises as he holds out a hand. You slip and step out of them before giving it to him. In return, he passes your phone before feigning a gasp, “Shit, I think I sent Jimin a video of you when I was trying to forward it to my phone.”

Your mouth falls open as heat consumes your entire being. “H-Huh?” Tears brim in your eyes almost instantly; your heart is pounding from anxiety.

“How will you ever look at him now,” he empathizes with a fake frown. “He must think of you as such a slut now.”

“Let me delete it,” you panic as you open your phone. “Wh-Where is it?”

He motions you to give him the phone and opens WhatsApp after. “He’s already seen it.” There are two blue ticks under the message.

“No, no, no,” you pull your hair in agony with a whimper. You quickly put your pants back on and cry as you do so.

“I guess that’s the end of your friendship,” he raises his eyebrows to himself without a hint of sympathy.

“What do I do?!” you wail and fling your hands in stress.

“Avoid him. I’ll make sure he won’t leak it.”

He steps forward to lean in your face intimidatingly. “And don’t talk to him ever again.”

You don’t exactly have a choice now, do you?

#bts imagines #bts scenarios #jeon jungkook #bts jungkook #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #bts smut #jeon jungkook smut #jungkook smut #jungkook imagines #jjk smut

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supernovafics · 3 years ago

Text

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐃𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐀 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇

pairing: dylan o’brien x best friend fem!reader

summary: in which dylan has been your best friend for as long as you could remember. your busy lives and schedules may have pushed both of your lives in vastly different directions as you’d gotten older, but somehow you two would always be led back to your hometown, and each other, during the holidays. however, one moment causes all of that to change.

warnings: angst (what else is new), some fluffiness, mentions of past trauma (the maze runner incident), existential crises, explicit language

word count: 3.6k words

author’s note: idk why i decided to write something christmas related in the summer but it happened lmao (also i feel like it’s slightly important to mention that this takes place in 2016)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The rocks being thrown at your window were not what woke you up. Instead, you had been lying awake for hours; getting little to no sleep was something that you had become used to at this point.

However, on this specific night— or morning, depending on how one looked at it— you were glad that your sleep had been restless once again because it made it easy for you to get out of bed and walk to your window when the rocks began hitting it.

There was really no need for you to push open the curtains and check who was doing the throwing because, of course, it was Dylan. Ever since he moved onto your street in Hermosa Beach in middle school and the two of you easily became friends, he was the only person that would ever wake you up in the middle of the night with the soft pings of rocks, especially on this specific day at this specific time.

You waved at him and gestured that you would be down in a moment. You slipped on a random pair of sweatpants along with a hoodie and then placed the Christmas gift that you bought for him in the pocket. The item was small enough to fit in the not too big pocket of your hoodie; however, it did awkwardly protrude a bit.

All of this was a sort of unspoken tradition that the pair of you had developed over the many years you’d known each other. Meeting at five in the morning on Christmas day, walking to the beach that was only a few blocks away from your respective childhood homes, and exchanging Christmas gifts with each other as you both watched the sunrise. It started when you were in ninth grade, and you hadn't missed a year since, not even when the ending of high school pushed your lives in vastly different directions, especially since Dylan graduated a year before you and was almost immediately thrust into his acting career.

But, it didn't matter that Dylan's career took off, and you eventually decided to go to college in Santa Barbara, because, no matter what, you both would always come back for the holidays.

When you opened your front door and saw Dylan lingering by the sidewalk no more than ten feet away, you were quick to go toward him and pull him in for a tight embrace. It actually hadn't been too long since you’d last seen him, maybe only five or six months, but for some reason, it still felt as if the last time he was in front of you was last December.

"Hey," Dylan breathed out in a short greeting, his arms wounding around your waist.

“Hey to you too," You responded, a small smile gracing your features when you both pulled away, and you looked up at him. "How have you been?"

It was quiet for a few moments as you waited for him to answer the question, but eventually, you were met with no verbal response, and instead, Dylan simply shrugged. The short action made your heart constrict in the most painful way, and it was then that you noticed the light remnants of a scar peeking out from behind his dark hair that covered the majority of his forehead. You were quick to peel your eyes away from the scar and instead cast them down at your Converse-covered feet, but that didn't stop the memories from quickly coming back.

The Maze Runner accident had happened back in March, but to you, and you knew to Dylan as well, it felt as if it was just yesterday, especially considering the fact that he was still dealing with the unavoidable repercussions from it.

"Wanna walk?" You asked, finally looking up at him once again.

Dylan nodded. "Yeah."

A silence that could only be deemed as comfortable lingered between them as the two of you took the five-minute walk to the beach and sat down side by side on one of the random empty benches.

"Merry Christmas, Y/N," Dylan said as he handed a present over to you. The present was messily wrapped, something that was not at all uncommon when receiving gifts from Dylan, and the sight of it made you smile.

Before you unwrapped the gift, you pulled out the one you had for him and handed it over. "Merry Christmas, Dyl."

The nostalgic sound of wrapping paper ripping could be heard as you tore into your gift. A simultaneous shocked and happy yelp emitted from your lips when you held up a Harry Potter t-shirt. But, it wasn't just any Harry Potter t-shirt; it was one with a version of the Goblet of Fire movie poster on it, which was your all-time favorite movie in the series.

"Holy shit."

"It's the original merch that was sold when the movie came out," Dylan told you. He hadn't opened his gift yet, and instead, he was playing with the green bow placed on top of it; he always liked to see your reaction first.

You looked at Dylan and then back down at the shirt as you processed his words. "Wow, double holy shit. I would put it on if it wasn't freezing right now."

Dylan laughed a bit. "Very understandable."

“Why haven't you opened yours yet? I'm dying to see what you think of it," You said. You were now holding the t-shirt to your chest, genuinely feeling like a little kid on Christmas morning again.

Dylan finally began unwrapping your gift to him, and when all of the paper was peeled off, there was a square box. "Aw, a plain white box. Thank you so much. This is what I've always wanted."

You rolled your eyes and playfully bumped him with your shoulder. "Ha ha. Please save all of these bad jokes for your stand-up act; I can't wait to boo you off the stage along with everyone else."

"So, what I'm hearing is you don't think that becoming a comedian is going to be the next best career move for me?" Dylan asked. He attempted to make the question sound as serious as possible, but there was a joking undertone to his words.

You bit back your laughter. "Please just open the box already so I don't have to hurt your feelings by truthfully answering that question."

"Okay, we'll circle back to that topic later," Dylan smiled and then finally opened the white box to reveal a slightly faded baseball. When he picked it up, he ran his thumb over the black signature written on it. "Now it's my turn to say holy shit."

You could feel yourself smiling at his awestruck reaction, and you wondered if that was what you looked like when you saw the Harry Potter shirt. The baseball was signed by one of the players of the New York Mets that had been Dylan's favorite player when he was younger, and he'd even caught a ball hit by him when he went to a game before he moved to California.

"I've had this idea for years, but I could never find a baseball signed by him," You began explaining, the excitement clear in your voice. "But, last month, someone named Paul Todd posted this on eBay and I immediately bought it. God bless that old man. It's completely authentic and everything."

Dylan was quiet for a few moments as he simply looked at the baseball in his hands, a small joyful smile on his face, and it made you happy to see him so genuinely elated with the present.

"This just made my gift look like shit," He finally said, a light laugh falling from his lips.

"I have always been the superior gift giver. I think that's my hidden talent," You responded with a playful smirk.

Dylan placed the baseball back in its box and then looked at you. "Next year you will receive the best gift ever from me. It will completely top everything that you have ever given me."

"You're saying that as if I should feel upset about receiving a trip to Italy as a Christmas gift."

"A trip to Italy?"

"In my strong opinion, that would be the best gift ever," You said with a smile and then looked down at the t-shirt, which was now in your lap. "But, anyway, I don't think this gift is shit. I'm in love with this shirt already."

Dylan let out a joking, overexaggerated sigh in relief. "Phew, okay, since you think this gift is great, that means I don't have to do the trip to Italy next year."

"What? Did I say I like this t-shirt? I hate it! Harry Potter actually su— Fuck, I can't say this with a straight face," You laughed, and Dylan was quick to join in with you.

The joking statements leading up to the laughter hadn't even been the funniest things ever, but it didn't matter because this was probably the hardest you had laughed in a while, and you were both glad and unsurprised that it was with one of your favorite people in the entire world.

You missed joking around and laughing with him. You missed simply being with him.

Eventually, the laughter died off, but there was still a smile planted firmly on your face. You looked ahead at the darkness in front of you and the ocean that looked completely black; it was still kind of early, so the sun hadn't begun to rise just yet. Your back pressed against the wooden bench, and you let out a small sigh, your head finding Dylan's shoulder as you leaned against him.

"How have you been?" You asked him, your words coming out both soft and slightly quiet, and before the mood became too serious with your question that was nothing but serious, you attempted to lighten it. "And please no shrugs as a response this time. I don't wanna get a headache due to my head bouncing off your shoulder."

Dylan let out a breath of a laugh at your final statements but refrained from answering the question for a few moments.

After what felt like forever, he sighed and ran a hand through his dark hair. "I honestly don't know. My mind has felt so fucked lately, thinking about everything. I swear I've been feeling every feeling known to man these past months."

"What are you feeling right now? In this moment?"

"I'm really happy with you. This is probably the only normal and familiar thing I've experienced in a while. But, of course, there's still that confused feeling in the back of my mind revolving around everything else." He paused for a brief moment before continuing, his next words came out quieter. "I don't even know if I want to go back to acting."

You lifted your head off his shoulder and looked at him as you pulled his hand into yours and gave it a light, reassuring squeeze.

"No matter what you decide. I'll be right there to support you," You told him and then added a "bro" at the end of her sentence along with a small smile. Whenever things became too deep in a conversation you two were having, one of you would always throw a "bro" or "dude" in there to bring some playfulness to the mood.

The corners of Dylan's perked up a bit. "So, you'll support me when I decide to become a comedian?"

You were unable to stifle your light laughter. "Yes, fine, fuck it. I'll be the loudest one laughing at all of your shows."

Dylan squeezed your hand back because he knew exactly how reluctantly true your words were. "Don't worry, I promise not to put you through that."

"Thank you."

"So, how have you been?"

"No."

"Oh, come on," Dylan said as he playfully poked your side. "I'm not gonna be the only one exposing my feelings."

You sighed and then hesitantly nodded. "Okay, okay."

The truth was you had been far from good lately. Your life was moving, but for some reason, you felt like you weren’t moving with it.

You felt stuck.

Stuck in a confusing mindset where you had absolutely no idea what you wanted to do with your life. You thought that identity crises usually happened in high school, but apparently, yours had come five years late. But, you knew that this delayed identity crisis had been your own doing because you had convinced herself that you would figure everything out once you were in college; and you were both lucky and smart enough to receive a full ride to UCSB.

And although you were finishing up your Master's degree in Creative Writing and had a TA job at the university with the department, which was the reason behind why you could even pay for the Master's program, something in your "should be great" life simply did not feel right.

However, you felt absolutely terrified to say any of that out loud because admitting it would only finally make that statement a wholehearted truth, instead of just a spiraling thought in your mind. And even though Dylan was your best friend and you knew you could tell him anything and not receive any sort of judgment, it still felt hard to let the words leave your lips.

You thought about the way to perfectly word everything, but nothing felt right. You pulled your hand away from Dylan's and covered your face as you let out an exasperated breath. "I can't figure how to say it all."

Dylan placed an arm around you and then mimicked the same question you had asked him not too long ago. "What are you feeling right now? In this moment?"

You would have both laughed and smiled at the fact that he was using your exact words if the current circumstances were different.

"Scared," You finally said, your voice barely above a whisper. "I don't know what the fuck I wanna do anymore, and actually, I don't think I really ever did. I only went to college because of the scholarship, and I convinced myself that I would figure my life out when I got there. And for a while, things felt right because I found creative writing and genuinely enjoyed it, but something doesn't feel right anymore. And I actually do like school. Because it's stable, and I am doing things, even if it's taking a dumbass test. But, it's about to be over soon, and I have no idea what I'm gonna do."

Your words were coming out like vomit, and nothing could stop it because finally, everything you had been feeling for so long was out of your head and put into the open.

"And don't get me wrong, I do love to write, but I don't know, I just can't see myself doing it for the rest of my life," You admitted and then let your next words come out quietly. "Honestly, I can't see myself doing anything. I'm so unhappy here."

You did not say it aloud, but you didn't think you were ever fully content there. Aside from Dylan and your parents, you never truly liked California. You had grown up there all your life, and although there were millions of people that adored the state, you felt the exact way someone from a state like Wyoming probably felt.

Dylan did not verbally respond to your long confession at first; instead, he simply pulled your confused and stressed self in for a hug, and you let out the simultaneous sigh and breath that you had been metaphorically holding in for years at this point.

"Maybe you should take a break," Dylan finally said; his arms were still around you, an action that made you feel completely comforted. "Right after high school, you went straight to college, and I don't think you've ever really taken a break to really think about what you actually want. Like, maybe, it's becoming a zookeeper."

Your laugh was slightly muffled by the fact that your face was pressed into the warmth of Dylan's chest. "Zookeeper?"

"I don't know," He laughed too. "You said you would support me in whatever the fuck I decide to do, and I'll do the exact same for you."

Somehow a smile found its way on your face. "A zookeeper and a comedian. What a fucking dream team."

Another laugh fell from Dylan's lips. "The best fucking dream team."

"But, honestly, I wish I could've known sooner that this is how you've been feeling. I would've been telling you to slow down so long ago, but you seemed content with everything," Dylan told you and gave you another light squeeze. "Please take a break and don't stress yourself out over the future when your next semester is over. Just relax for the first time. You can even come stay with me in LA for a little bit if that's where you wanna take your break. I'll be here for you, Y/N. Always."

Something about his words hit you hard. The wholehearted honesty and sincerity behind his statement shouldn't have surprised you, but it did. And the worry he had for you resembled the same concern you had for him when the accident happened. You two were best friends, so it should not have been a shock that you would worry about each other, but still, in that moment and for you, it was shocking because it felt like so much more than just that.

"Me too," You whispered, finally responding to his previous statement.

The long embrace came to an end with you being the one to pull away; however, you did not pull away far enough for you both to become completely detached from one another. Dylan's arms were still around your waist, and yours were still around the nape of his neck, and your faces were dangerously close. Your hand somehow took on a mind of its own as it reached around and cupped Dylan's cheek. The miniscule confusion and tickle of panic that began to prick at the back of your mind because of the action were not enough to make you pull away.

The slight way that Dylan leaned into your soft touch was the catalyst for you to take the leap and lean in the tiniest bit to close the small distance between the two of you, your lips almost too easily finding his. The inward sigh of contentment you emitted when Dylan almost immediately kissed you back made you realize that kissing him was the one thing currently happening in your life that actually felt right.

Later, when thinking back to that specific moment, you would wonder if that "rightness" had always been there between you both.

However, that right feeling, which was both comfortable and familiar, was quickly replaced with dread and angst, at least on your part. Your mind was beginning to fully catch up with your actions, and it immediately told you that the current action was both bad and stupid, and there were many, many reasons that proved that.

Maybe there were moments where a younger, and even present-day, you did want more to happen between you and Dylan, but you would always push that thought away because you knew that your and Dylan's friendship was so much more valuable.

And then it was the fact that your lives were nothing alike. Even though you were immensely confused about where your life was going, you could say for certain that it wasn't going in the same direction as Dylan's; an acting career that he genuinely loved and enjoyed too much to truly give up. Something deep down told you that, and you could feel the truthfulness behind the thought. The holidays were the only time your lives would truly intersect.

You abruptly pulled away, not just from the kiss but from Dylan's body entirely, moving to the edge of the bench you were on. Your hands covered your face in nothing but pure embarrassment and regret, and you wished that you could take back the last minute and a half of your life. And you also absolutely hated that you couldn't help but notice how much colder your body felt now that it was away from Dylan's.

"Oh my God. I'm sorry. Fuck. That kiss— it was a mistake. I'm really sorry." Your words came out rushed and fumbled, and it probably did not make much sense, but you just hoped that there was at least a little bit of coherency with them.

As much as you wanted to look at Dylan, you refused to do so because you knew that you would only see the regret you were feeling written clear across his face.

"Hey, it's okay, Y/N. Everything's fine. Don't worry," You heard him say but could hear the uncertainty in his voice as if he really didn't know if everything truly was fine. And you knew that it wasn’t. It really wasn’t.

The holidays were the only time your lives would truly intersect, and you had just completely ruined that.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

let me know your thoughts <3

((((already potentially thinking about doing a part 2 to this….. but idk…))))

#dylan o’brien #dylan o’brien x reader #dylan o'brien imagine #dylan o'brien fanfic #dylan o'brien x y/n #dylan o'brien x fem!reader #dylan o'brien gifs

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oneoftheprettynerds · 4 years ago

Text

Just My Type: Dark!Steve x Reader (Mob AU)

Chapter 2 in the Lipstick and Crayons Series.

Chapter 1: Welcome to the Darkside

Main Masterlist

A/N: This chapter is 2K words more than the last chapter and I’ve second guessed every single line in this one. This story is getting a lot of traction guys and I’m equal parts happy and scared. Thank you for the nice comments, they do encourage me. Also I’m just ranting feel free to skip this note haha. Your support in any form: like, comment or reblog is appreciated greatly. Also you can dm if you want to be friends, God knows I need those. Hopefully, this chap was worth the wait. Also, I made a poster for this on the main masterlist so check that out, it might be foreshadowing dome plot.

Warning: Eventual Non-Con, Sickening Threats, Mob Themes, Violence, Death, Manipulation, a mild mental breakdown, Cheap Tricks later.

Genres + Characters: Mob AU, Single Parents AU, Steve Rogers x Reader.

Summary: Steve can't ever repay you for what you did. After meeting you, Steve believes his broken family is the missing piece in the puzzle of your own wrecked one. Indebting the crime lord to you has been the biggest mistake of your life, cause now you can't get rid of him, no matter what. Loyalty and favours go a long way in the mob.

Chapter 2: Just My Type

It had almost been a week since the incident and you had barely gotten a wink of sleep. When you drove back to your house that night, Steve surprisingly didn’t argue as you had expected. After that friend of his whispered something in his ears, you only assumed he was needed elsewhere and you couldn’t be more thankful for that. They escorted you to your car and Steve thanked you with a strained smile, words genuine but eyes calculating. You didn’t even wonder what went inside his head. You were thankful for the peace and quiet of your own car, content to just get out of the area and into your humble abode.

After you put the already asleep Grace to bed, you couldn’t bring yourself to get out of her room. You just sat on the floor beside the bed, hand intertwined with hers as you rested your head beside her tummy on the mattress.

Your adrenaline wore off and your limbs ached as your thoughts finally settled into place, the gravity of the catastrophe a few hours prior hitting you. Tears made their way down your cheeks as you realized that you both could have very well died tonight.

One bullet could have sealed each of your lives and you were basically defenseless had Steve not saved you against the creeping assaulter. You couldn’t commend yourself for even defending yourself against one attacker, the guilt of killing someone harboring in your tired head. Your quiet whimpers eventually wore you out, while Grace’s shallow breaths lulled you to sleep.

You didn’t manage to sleep for long though, every time your eyes closed, horrific images flashed in your mind. A blood curdling scream here, heaps of dead bodies there, with distant exploding sounds all around. You could see men clad in black holding guns to Grace’s head and whensoever you woke up, you just wondered how much more creative your mind could get, making these visuals so realistic.

When 8 AM rolled in, you didn’t wake Grace up even though it was Monday and you had work. You got up, changed into a long tee after a shower and called your office and then her daycare. You knew you would have a hard time going back to your normal life, to become trusting enough to leave her alone.

Your assumption about yourself was right. You took almost the entire week off, which your boss generously allowed you to after hearing your traumatic experience, which soon made the city news headlines. All your colleagues checked on you, almost once in the five day break you took, and sweetly enough offered to bring you anything you needed.

It was kind of them, but none of them could bring you what your heart genuinely craved: peace and assurance that you and Grace would be safe.

Even though Saturdays were off, you did go to work to see what you missed and where to start on again. You went in because you knew that the random spurt of resolution you got in the bathroom to collect your life, wouldn’t last.

To ease back into your normal life, you gathered your guts, called a babysitter and left home. You couldn’t bring yourself to leave Grace at the daycare just yet. One of your good friends offered to come in to the office and help you, even on the weekend and you were quite grateful to him.

When you both decided to take lunch in the nearby dining place, you both got to talking, the conversation obviously originating from ‘How have you been?’ and ‘Is Grace okay?’. You reminisced about how you used a photobooth to hide, grotesquely and uncomfortably chuckling when you remembered Sarah calling you her mom and how her dad saved you all.

You deliberately left the part where you killed someone and Steve shot someone too. You hadn’t come to terms with it yet and you stiffly restricted your mind whenever it tried to go down that lane.

He sensed how the conversation was becoming tense and distressing for you and briskly redirected the topic.

“I hope the dad was hot though?” He wiggled his eyes creepily and you snorted at his vulgarity, light for the first time in days.

“He was easy on the eyes; I will admit that.” You played along, recalling your girlfriends and how you used to ogle people.

“Don’t be a homewrecker though, I don’t support cheating.” He said nonchalantly, checking his phone as a notification bell rang off.

“He’s a widower.”

His eyes snapped up and met yours as his head tilted in confusion. “That’s a strange fact to know about someone you met for a few minutes.”

Steve’s even stranger comment about his dead wife popped in your mind and before you could stop yourself, you blurted that out as well.

“He even said and I quote, ‘She deserved what she got.’” He put his phone down, weirdly amused.

“Ooh Creepy! Do you think he is one of those husbands who kill their wives and bury them in the backyard? The podcasts always say that the psychopaths are visually handsome and charming. And his statement was quite vague and spooky.” He continued munching, and you felt that now Aiden was really paying attention unlike before.

“Steve did have a gun while searching for Sarah, come to think of it.” You drank your tea and awaited his response. What you did not expect was his eyes to widen and worry to cloud his features.

“Um Widower Steve with a toddler Sarah? At the place where The Vices attacked?” He mumbled, grabbing his phone and doing God knows what on it. Your eyebrows furrowed and before you could ask him what was up with his antics, he resumed.

“This is a long shot but I really hope your Steve didn’t look like this.” He positioned the phone in your vision, and you could already tell it was Steve by the sapphire blue of his eyes piercing through the screen into your soul. The picture was a month or two old, his hair was much longer when you met him than in the photo.

“This is him.” Your eyes met Aiden’s and worry visibly took over his features as his forehead creased and jaw tense.

He looked around the restaurant, finding it empty in the afternoon. He leaned and whispered, “This Steve of yours is dangerous.”

You interrupted Aiden, even though you already knew Steve was, the sight of his armed men still fresh in your head, and inquired, “Why do you say so?”

“It’s just like the fictional stories we hear from our parents, except here, in this city of ours, every myth holds true. There are really powerful men, untouchable by law, who reign the city silently and live luxuriously. Every shady, under the table deal you’ve heard of, transpires. Illegal trades, fraud schemes and bounty hunters are not fictional, they exist here. These men kill whatever hinders them and trust me, you don’t want to be the deer caught in their Jaguar’s headlights.”

Ice froze in your veins again, resembling the fear you felt that night but now because of your deemed ‘savior’. You convinced yourself that you had not wronged him in any way, instead had saved his daughter’s life.

“Are you in contact with him? If you are, distance yourself cleverly, don't block him immediately.”

“No, we just parted ways near my car, he thanked me for Sarah and was called away. It’s almost been a week and he hasn’t reached out if that’s what you mean. We didn’t exchange contacts and I don’t think I even told him my full name.” You explained yourself as if you were on the witness stand in court, trying to convince yourself more than Aiden.

“Pray that he doesn’t remember you more than that, if at all. I’m being totally honest here in telling you this, I’m genuinely worried for you and Grace. You are smart but he is powerful. He has unimaginable resources and if you become more than a speck of dust on his windshield, you are screwed. There is no exaggeration here.” You took his words to your heart and swore to be careful, if not for yourself then for Grace.

The rest of the day went by and you found yourself dwelling on and worrying about Aiden’s words. At least he put it out there as it was. Heeding his advice, you did google Steve on your phone, finally finding him in the topmost news headline when you added ‘Buck’ in the search bar as well.

‘With 38 lawsuits pending against businessman Steve Rogers, the filers have lost all hope in prosecuting him. All cases are being drawn out for indefinite periods of time by the Chief Justice Bruce……’

Aiden was right.

Businessmen was code for illegal mob heads. Cases being stretched on meant he was, in fact, invincible, at least to the common man’s fists.

You flickered through several titles, each one more surprising than the last. He was believed to be involved in the carnival attack, alleged for three hit and run cases that he didn’t lose but the witnesses swore they saw him driving and was also rumored to have brought in quintals of drugs just last week, but the packets just evaporated into thin air and there was no proof of their existence in the first place even on incessant searching.

Every crime of his made you shudder and you mentally thanked Aiden for pulling you out of your oblivion. Your mind raced and heart palpated and you cursed yourself for being so drastically unaware even after living here for almost four years. Technically speaking, Steve and you were even, him saving your life and you saving his daughter’s. No logical reason came to your mind for him contacting you ever.

You wished as Aiden said and assured yourself that your paths would never cross again, Steve not having reached out in a week, so hopefully never again.

That thought went out the window when you reached home to find a box awaiting you. Hannah, the babysitter you had called, informed you it came around 5 in the evening and was exclusively to be opened by you today.

Your mind raced as you paid the babysitter, your hands sweaty as you tried not to think about the gift and its sender. There was an apparently clear answer to who mailed it but you refused to accept that, courtesy of Aiden.

The box was of the height of Grace, it was black with red hearts painted across it; some red roses also sparingly adorned it. You opened the lid and found tons of red tissues and a multi-flower bouquet adorned with mostly red roses and a few purple and pink flowers.

Because of your frequent gardening in your backyard, you knew all the flowers’ meanings. To sum it all up, red flowers, especially roses were used for courting someone. Pink meant admiration, purple for beauty and you knew the ‘violet’ flowers were for loyalty.

As your nerves increased tenfold, you willed yourself to get it over with and empty out the box first, ignoring the little card in your bouquet, saving the ‘best’ for last. You find a mini bouquet inside but unlike yours, it had chocolates of every kind. You did read its card and cringed when it was for Grace, bothered not by the deed but by the doer.

Further inside were some animal plushies, face masks, perfumes, scented body lotions and shampoos. Your head hurt thinking about the ‘single mother care package’ delivered to you by someone you refused to acknowledge.

As Grace sat in her playpen occupied, you dared to pick your card and read its message, your heart beating unrealistically fast for someone who refused to accept the cruciality of her situation.

I can’t thank you enough in this lifetime for saving my little princess. The gift of your help is more than anything money could ever buy for me. Please accept this invitation of mine for dinner tomorrow night, 7PM at La Bonne Nuit, as a symbol of my sincere gratitude for everything you’ve done. I’ll gets the kids covered and pick you up, you just be ready and look as amazing you always do. Sincerely, Steve Rogers

You stilled as you read it over and over again.

An invitation, your ass. Even in writing his authority portrayed, there was no question and hope for you coming, he just stated that you’d come. Looking pretty as always? You just met him once, in the middle of a calamity, covered in dirt and blood.

All the red roses and gifts screamed his romantic interest but you illusioned yourself into thinking they meant gratitude. You wouldn’t be able to digest it all otherwise.

Knowing what you knew now about Steve, you understood there was no denying the dinner tomorrow. You had to get out of his clutches and distance yourself, but as Aiden had so rightfully said, cleverly.

That night you laid in bed mulling over your next course of actions. You had called the gift shop to return the unwarranted presents you received but they said it was non refundable and anonymous to trace. You bitterly snorted in their face, they put a card with Steve’s name on it for heaven’s sake!

You didn’t flinch even when you realized you never gave Steve your address, neither for mailing stuff nor for picking you up. There was no number given to call him and thank or to call him and deny. The bastard had planned it all out, and you felt like you were driving in a one way lane, going deeper into the tunnel. Somewhere among your all-relentless fretting, you managed to finally sleep.

When the doorbell rang, your eyebrows furrowed. It was just 6 PM and you weren’t expecting anybody else except for Steve. You had already begun getting ready, having developed a habit of keeping an extra margin of time now having a toddler. You still had to assemble Grace’s essential backpack, fill it with her meds and bottles.

While still putting on your diamond earring, you made your way to the door, unlocking it to find a redhead grinning at you. Before you could interact with her, a small body clung to your legs and you looked down to find the azure eyed kid that put you in this mess, Sarah, smiling up at you.

“Mama! You look pwetty!” She looked up in awe and now aware that she didn’t have a mother, you were even more so coerced into accepting this title rather than telling the kid that 'you are semi orphaned'.

“I’m Wanda, Sarah’s nanny. Mr. Rogers told me to pick her friend, Grace, up for the night?” So, this was what Steve meant. Bringing Sarah was proof enough of her legitimacy, but behind her you saw ‘Buck’ salute you from the driver’s seat of the black car. One of these days, you needed to learn his real name.

You invited Wanda inside and Sarah ran to Grace immediately, grabbing and whining while asking Grace to give her some popcorn she was munching on, her fist generously full.

In your open plan kitchen, you grabbed two plastic bowls, filled them with each with the tub of popcorn that sat in the microwave and handed each toddler one, fortunately quietening Sarah. Sarah obeyed Grace, in first thanking you, their ‘mama’ and then following her to her open playpen.

You faced Wanda again who sat on a barstool and kept on beaming. If your annoyance at her amusement showed, she sure didn’t let it falter the smile.

“Mr. Rogers told me you’d worry about your daughter, but I assure you she’d be in more than capable hands.” All you could focus on was how self-reassured she was. “I’ve served him for almost two years, the last family I served, I was there for 8 years and before them, I was employed for 3. I know the general bedtime and snacks, all I need from you is information about her allergies.”

You nodded and told her about Grace, her meds and what all you packed. When you got to know that her family owned the daycare Grace went to, you were finally somewhat convinced. After seeing them off, it was about fifteen minutes later, that the devil disguised in Prada showed up at your door.

You grabbed your purse and your keys. Wiping your sweaty palms on your dress, you opened the door. Steve stood there, a smirk lodging on his handsome face. His blue, three-piece suit perfectly paired with his cerulean eyes was impressive to say the least.

He was dressed to kill, and it appeared as if you were his first victim.

As your eyes took him in from top to bottom, his did the same lazily, taking their time, resting at certain places for longer period than others.

“You look stunning.”

You knew you did. You wore one of your more expensive dresses when you found out La Bonne Nuit to be one of the few seven-star hotels in the country. In hindsight, if you’d have dressed worse, maybe he’d have left you alone.

“Thank you.”

“Shall we?” He offered you his hand and you obliged with your palm in his. Your other hand pulled the doorknob while you stepped out, all alarms already set-in place. He waited while you locked and put the keys in and when you were done, with a soft kiss along your knuckles, he pulled you along.

The act surprised you, your stomach turning and your gut wrenching and you wondered if you’d be able to process the food after all, with your upset digestive system.

Like a proper gentleman, he opened the door for you and when you settled, he took his position at the driver’s seat. The silence was painful for you, your overthinking finally filling ideas in your head that you avoided contemplating about all day, focusing on Grace.

He was relaxed though; his humming was proof enough.

Mid way through, your thoughts were rudely interrupted when a hand housed itself on your knee. You glanced to find Steve’s palm slightly rubbing your knee. If it was meant to be assuring, you certainly didn’t feel like it.

You frowned and looked up to Steve who still had the arrogant smirk on his face, eyes straight ahead on the road, giving no indication of his inappropriate touching.

You wanted to swat his hand away but a brainwave dashed through your head and a disturbing thought made you halt, that whether he carried guns to restaurants as well, since carnivals were no big deal.

You ignored his hand and continued looking outside, pretending to ignore it as well as he did. Your scowl was a huge giveaway though.

You didn’t know that, but when your eyes found their way out, his finally rested on your face, the smirk growing even more.

Thankfully, apart from the incongruous touching, the dinner went okay-ish. The food and wine were impeccable, perfect even, the restaurant on the hotel’s top floors was so picturesque. You tried to savor your one-time experience there, knowing you’d no way be able to come back there.

Well, you tried to relish as much as you could while your mind still sat there, wary of the human in front of you. If you’d ignore your journey here, Steve was nothing short of a true gentleman, often making you wonder if you had imagined his hand on you.

This ‘friendly’ date you were having was probably one of the best you have had, he had left no expenses. He appeared to be interested in your work, about your childhood and about Grace’s but you swiftly avoided his questions about her father. He was growing a tad bit too comfortable for your liking and you still refused to entertain the idea that this was a ‘date’ date.

When you were finally onto dessert, the last course of your meal, your table was shadowed by the broad frame of a brunette and his date. He clapped Steve’s shoulder and Steve rose to hug him, you awkwardly smiled.

“It’s been far too long since you’ve been here, Cap. Why don’t you and your gorgeous date stop by my penthouse for a bit? We could finally go over the papers you sent me, in person?” He winked, they discussed something more and then went away, his date bowing and trailing after him as well.

Steve claimed his seat again, and finally told you about the interrupter. “That was my good friend, Tony Stark, always in a hurry. I’ll introduce you to him when we meet him later.”

“I think I’ll be heading home; you need not worry about my introduction, I hardly think we’ll ever run into each other again.” His eyes narrowed and you clarified, “Me and Mr. Stark, I meant.”

That’s good, don’t associate yourself with more of his kind.

“He was so kind in inviting you though, it would be rude to refuse.”

“It’s already late, Steve. And I’ve never left Grace alone for a night yet. What if she’s antsy? What if she is bothered? What if she feels unsafe? She's only used to very few people, and after last week, I-” You had started the sentence hoping to use Grace as an excuse but every word of yours succeeded in making you more apprehensive.

The carnival night flashed in your mind, along with the nightmares and you started panicking even more. Your hands clammy, your dessert spoon fell in your lap as sought your phone in your purse, hoping to call Wanda for an update. You felt like a terrible mother, who left her child with a stranger, only a week after she suffered trauma, just to go on a date with a mobster.

Steve reached across the table and grabbed your fidgety hands and as you wriggled to get your hands free, he softly called your name. Voice stern but vocals gentle. Your blurry eyes snapped to meet his while he guided you to breathe deeply, in and out.

His firm hold convinced you to listen to him, you’d never free yourself of them otherwise.

When you had calmed a bit, he withdrew his hands and fetched his phone. Your thoughts slowed down, and you wondered if anyone here was judging you. Your little scene, mercifully, went unnoticed by the other affluent people dining here.

Steve handed you his phone where four colored frames rested, the screen showing you Grace and Sarah cuddled in a frilly, pink four poster where Wanda sat too, her lips moving.

The feed was live and the screen muted, both the toddlers’ eyes fluttering close slowly, on the bridge of sleep.

You handed the phone back to Steve and drank your water while he rubbed circles on the back of one of your hands. You never freaked out like you did right now, always collected and never giving into anxiety. What had happened to you?

Well, In your defense, you had never experienced a disaster either.

“The kids are safe; I’m never putting either of them in harm’s way ever again.”

Your mind did catch the plural in his statement but you promised yourself you would not let it get that far and continued drinking your water, emptying the entire glass.

“The HD image you just saw was by cameras Tony recently developed. His technology is amazing, I’ll take you to his lab sometime.” You appreciated his attempt to redirect the topic but you also focused on how tech-savvy his friends were as well.

You hummed and agreed, trying to be ambiguous with your answer.

When you finished your dessert, you hoped he’d forget about his ‘friend’ Tony but to no avail.

“His penthouse is two floors above. He owns this hotel as well in case you didn’t notice.” He led you to the elevator as you recalled the Starks Group logo you saw earlier sometime.

Some AI named Jarvis opened the elevator doors for you in the living room of Tony’s penthouse. It was even more magnificent than the restaurant earlier, the place illuminated by several hues of different colours. Steve chuckled and strung you along, introducing you to a ginger-head named Pepper, who was Tony’s date earlier and went to search for his acquaintance.

She offered you wine but you politely declined, opting for water instead. She brought your glass to you from the extravagant kitchen and you both sat on the barstool there instead of the living room. Too anxious to say the wrong thing, you stayed quiet until her voice filled the deafening silence.

“So, Steve almost never brings dates around. You two serious?” She questioned, leaning towards you, waiting for some gossip, no doubt.

“Oh no! We aren’t dating. He just invited me for a friendly dinner. We merely met the other week.” You deliberately left out the part where there was bombing by crime families and attack on the common man.

“Honey, in the mob life, you don’t just introduce random people to the fam.”

Oh, she wasn’t being shy about the whole mob ordeal. It seemed weird to hear it from her, since you and Steve hadn’t used the word yet. Maybe he figured you already knew considering the circumstances you met in or how famous he was.

“We really aren’t romantically involved. This dinner was just a gesture of gratitude if I’m being truthful.”

She chuckled, as if you were a kid making stories and quizzed, “Gratitude for what?”

You trapped yourself into that one. You didn’t know how to answer her and your brain downright blanked. Surprisingly,, Steve came to your rescue and two voices interposed your conversation.

Steve called your name and as you turned to the men, he continued, “She’s the one who saved Sarah the other night. You know the story, Wilson probably got it printed.”

“Impressive, really. Hey, I’m Tony and I see you’ve already met Pepper, my fiancée.” He shook your hand and kissed your knuckles, much like Steve did earlier in the day. You bowed, smiled and mumbled a ‘nice to meet you as well’. They escorted you to the elevator and Tony continued.

“Well, it’s not everyday Steve brings brave and extraordinarily attractive women around. Welcome to the family, sweetie. She’s a keeper, Cap.” He winked while saying the last sentence and before you could correct him, Steve ushered you inside the elevator, bro-hugging him. As the doors closed, Pepper winked at you from behind Tony and a shudder ran through you.

Okay you had to make it clear, get on the same page.

As the elevator music filled the silence, you started, “Steve, look we aren’t-”, “I served in the army, that’s why Tony calls me Cap, short for captain.” And crudely got interrupted.

“I never wanted to get into the army, I thought people were fools to sacrifice the one life they got. But I went to make my mother’s dream a reality, I really loved her, you know? Sarah is named after her, my mother.”

His voice broke at the end and as much as you wanted to redirect onto your former topic, you couldn’t. This amiability of yours would be the death of you.

“She died alone in her bed; I was dispatched too far away to even make it back for her funeral.” He mumbled but you heard him clear as a sunny day, and he leaned back onto the wall for support while you awkwardly rubbed his shoulder to return the support he provided earlier during your mental breakdown.

He closed his eyes and gathered himself, taking deep breaths. As the elevator dinged, his eyes opened and he gave you a strained smile.

The car ride to his mansion was painfully silent, his mind too sidetracked to focus on harassing you again. With all that you went through today, you almost forgot about that.

His mansion was enormous, twenty guards stood outside and even more patrolled the lawn. He took you inside his house, the interior even more detailed and scenic than Tony’s temporary residence.

You just concentrated on swiftly getting Grace and Uber-ing back. As Steve showed you earlier, Grace and Sarah hugged and slept and it was a meticulous task to untangle their limbs without waking either of them up andnd get Grace with her back-pack. You thanked Wanda on the way out, hoping to avoid Steve but somehow he stood outside before you, leaning on his sleek black car. He opened the door for you before you could refuse the ride. You settled with Grace in the backseat itself, trying to be smart.

He just summoned one of his guards to drive and sat alongside you in the back. You didn’t let the annoyance at his clinginess show though. You just focused on Grace who drooled over your shoulder.

Hopefully, there won’t be any point of exposure to him ever again, your circles didn’t match, both social and professional. Your Venn diagrams didn’t overlap anywhere. This should be reason enough to avoid meeting ever again.

He didn’t try anything even this ride around. You doubted it was hardly because of the toddler or because of the driver. He did as he pleased, if he wanted to he could very well grope you. Luckily, he wasn't in the mood.

When you reached your dwelling, you stepped out hastily, thanking him in a whisper. You fumbled to get your keys out, but since everything you held slowed you down, he caught up with you without even trying.

He took and held Grace’s bag while you drew the keys out, Grace still on your hip. He handed you the bag back, “So this is it, I guess?”

“Yeah, tonight was a total delight. Thanks for the dinner and everything, really.” You put up your best façade, hoping to convince him.

“It was, thanks to you. The company matters the most.”

You awkwardly chuckled and you sensed him leaning in, his eyes flickering shut. Your eyes closed as you turned your head to avoid him, so that his lips would peck your cheek.

They never came.

Your eyes opened to find his and he chuckled, leaning in once again swiftly, catching you off guard this time. He didn’t meet your lips though, he kissed the corner of your mouth, lips overlapping for a fraction of skin.

“In due time, baby.” He stepped back and strolled to his car leisurely, content in his own world.

You opened your door and slammed it shut, the peck feeling wrong on so many levels. It felt more sensual than a lover’s kiss, leaving room for intimacy and longing.

Your thoughts ran a hundred kilometers an hour, the most absurd but nauseatingly true being, this was a date and it was not your last encounter.

Steve smirked outside in his car, the dinner an absolute success in his opinion. Tonight just made him feel that you both were more than compatible for each other. You needing him during your mental breakdown, him relaxing under your shy touch, Tony’s approval, not that important though, and your anxiety for Grace was the best part, because he, more often than he’d like to admit, fussed about Sarah the same way, agonizing and fretting her well being.

A text lit up his black screen and his grin widened even more if possible.

‘The Stark cameras are up and working, Sir.’

830 notes · View notes

captainrexforever · 4 years ago

Text

Solace

Rating: T

Word count: ~4.5k

Summary: After a nightmare, the reader and Din have a heart-to-heart, and realize they are not as different as they might think.

Warnings: angst, fluff, Din w/o beskar, intense fear?? (basically reader has a nightmare) makeout at the end

Note: Fair warning, this is the first fic I have ever written. I was having some pretty intense inspiration, and once I began typing, the words just began to flow out. With that said, I welcome any constructive criticism; any hate received will be reported and blocked.

It's not late when you slip beneath the blanket that decorates your humble cot. In fact, you're not sure what time it is. Days spent in hyperspace have left you without the ability to recall which hours differentiate day and night. At this point, you sleep once you're exhausted, and wake up once you hear the kid begin to squeal for your company.

Mando doesn't seem to sleep at all. You often wonder if he is even human beneath the beskar. Perhaps, he is some humanoid species that doesn't require sleep.

That's silly, your mind whispers.

Oh, that's right.

Once Mando had returned with a bounty, blood dripping onto the durasteel panels of the hull, and a jagged tear in the visible duraweave below his left pauldron. Red blood and tanned fleshed were exposed to your eyes for the space of a minute. He had steered the oblivious bounty towards the carbonite freezing unit, and with a shove and a hiss of the machinery, the zabrak had been encased in a carbonite slab.

You hadn't moved, rooted to the spot, until Mando brushed past you, a jerk of his helmet the only recognition you received. He headed straight towards the ladder to the cockpit, his hand already moving to the cauterizer on his belt. It wasn't your job to distract him with unnecessary questions, so you had rolled your shoulders, cracked your neck, and then walked towards the kid who bobbed silently in his cradle.

It's been months since that particular incident. Months since you were tortured with the sight of his skin. It was only a sliver of his bare skin, but it had set your heart racing. These days, you two spoke more often, usually about the kid. Well to clarify, 'more often' meant a few sentences a day. The Mandalorian was still so quiet. It was strange to you. As a child, your household was always bustling with life, loud and busy. To be honest, you were the most introverted member of your family, and found yourself seeking out peace and quiet more often than not. Now though, it was too quiet, days on end spent spiraling through space. Mando never told you your destination, not that it would have mattered anyways. You weren't very knowledgeable about the geography of the outer rim.

As you lie on your cot, you wonder if you will ever earn the chance to know who he really is. You know that he hides his emotions beneath a stoic personality almost as impenetrable as the beskar he wears. There’s a thought that festers in your heart every night as you lay in bed. Does the Mandalorian have any feelings for you beyond that of an employer and their employee?

You sigh.

You are being foolish and immature.

The Mandalorian is a good man, and he owes you nothing. He pays you fairly and treats you as an equal. Your mind is satisfied with that answer, but your heart protests the idea, holding out hope that he might think of you in the same way that you think of him. That is, with a fondness that you shouldn't be allowed to feel. Sometimes, you sit in the cockpit just to watch him fly. He seems more at ease there, as if he too belongs among the stars. It's a breathtaking view, watching streaks of light blur past the viewport, but somehow your gaze always falls upon him instead.

Sleep now, think later, you tell yourself.

And you do, sleep finally consuming you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There is a flash of light, a blinding presence beside you. It's a struggle to grasp a sense of your surroundings, your mind struggling to stay aware. Something is not right. You move to sit up, panic overtaking you when your limbs fail to comply, as if they are weighed down with lead.

Then you hear it.

The clink of beskar on beskar.

It's alright, he's here, he is going to protect you. But you couldn't be more wrong. The being that steps out of the blinding light and into the dimly lit area surrounding your cot is terrifying. It certainly looks like Mando, the armor is the same, but his helmet is wrong. It's all wrong! Two eyes of pure crimson shine through the visor of the helmet, a sickening laugh escaping the figure, and then it's advancing on your prone form. You realize with a start how exposed you are, only a long tunic covers your form, and your blaster is hanging on the wall behind the figure. It reaches out, it's touch burning your skin, first your cheek then down your neck. It speaks suddenly, the voice twisted and warped.

"What a pretty prize. All mine, and so submissive, not that you could run from me anyways." Then there is a blaster pressed underneath your chin.

"No, stop! Leave me alone!"

It only chuckles darkly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Mandalorian sighs deeply in the cockpit. You had disappeared behind the curtain that separated your cot from the main hold some time ago, the child already asleep. How you are able to coax him into slumber so easily Din will never comprehend. At least the quiet allows him some private time to clear his troubled mind. There was too much on his mind as of late. No, that was a lie. There was just one thing on his mind.

You.

You are a mystery, so caring and understanding. Too caring, he muses quietly. You are smart too, incredibly so, he was lucky to be able to recruit you into his service. But that's not what bothers him right now.

No…

Something else is troubling him. He is sure you possess some sort of magic, like the kid. It’s the only explanation. Why else does his heartbeat thud loudly in his chest at the sight of you? His skin feels as if it’s on fire, his mouth suddenly dry whenever your gaze lingers on him for a moment too long. Sorcery, as the armorer had said. But, he doesn't know how to confront you about the topic. He doesn't want to frighten you away.

He will approach you in the morning, he tells himself. Din chuckles for a moment, he doesn't really know when morning will come, with the length of time you three have spent in hyperspace. He just bases his schedule off of the inclinations of his female companion. When you sleep, so does he, when you are awake, so is he. Din always ensures he is awake before you. The child is fussy in the mornings, demanding attention as soon as he is awake, so he tries to keep the kid entertained as long as possible to you allow you a few extra scraps of sleep.

The hair on the back of his neck suddenly stands on end, a sense of unease consuming his thoughts. He taps his helmet, the infrared vision within his helmet prompting the grey ship to burst into color. Nothing seems out of place in the cockpit, but he can't ignore his instincts, so after rising from his chair Din moves towards the ladder, intending to check the rest of the ship from possible threats. He pauses at the top of the ladder, his whole body shocked into a rigid cast.

Your cries reach his ears, desperate and pleading, and every instinct screams at him to protect you. In retrospect, he’s not sure how he clears the ladder so quickly, because one second he’s standing in the cockpit, and in the next he’s at your side, hands hovering over you as uncertainty soars to the top of his mind. You are obviously in the throws of a nightmare, your body curling in on itself, sweat beading on your forehead, and your limbs thrashing about in an attempt at self-preservation. Din reaches out to grasp your wrist, but you tear it out of his hand, your cries becoming louder. He curses, both hands reaching out to pin yours to the cot, then he is settling his body over yours, using his weight to still your frantic movements.

"No, stop! Leave me alone! Stop! Please!" It's the first coherent thing you have said, and it squeezes at his heart. It feels like it is being crushed by the vice that he often saw the armorer use at the forge.

"Y/N!"

"No, please!"

"Y/N! Listen to me, you need to wake up."

"Stop, Stop!"

"Y/N!"

Your eyes finally snap open, and it's as if all the air has been pumped back into his lungs. You're alright, you're safe.

Oh, how wrong he was.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You gasp for air, feeling as though you're drowning.

It was just a dream.

But then your eyes open, only to come face-to-face with a beskar helmet. A startled cry escapes you and you're squeezing your eyes shut, turning your face into the pillow behind you to block your line of sight. The air is tense and strained and you feel suffocated by the weight resting on the lower half of your body. As your panic rises you attempt to wriggle free, another rush of fear flooding your body when you realize you're pinned down. Your movements become frantic, a sense of desperation overtaking you as your hands fight against the hold on your wrists. You're practically sobbing as you fight him, your body recoiling in fear just from the sight of his armor. Through the haze of panic, you think he's saying something but you can’t bring yourself to care. Every molecule in your body is screaming to be free.

With a burst of strength you rip your arms from his grip and frantically shove at his chest plate. Sithspit, you can’t even bear to look at him. The shoving becomes more frantic and finally you're free. Your body curls in on itself, finding solace in the tattered blanket and pillow that furnish your cot. You don't realize your crying until your sobs register in your ears. You are thoroughly humiliated, wishing that the floor would swallow you whole so that you never have to face the consequences of this situation.

You take a few heaving breaths, trying to gain your bearings, and when you hear a modulated voice you recoil further into your cot.

"Y/N, talk to me, are you alright?" You think he sounds concerned, but you can’t bring yourself to concentrate clearly enough to discern what emotions are placed on those words.

"Please, leave me alone." You manage, trying to gather your frazzled emotions.

"What happened?" You're cringing all over again at the sound of his voice, flashbacks from the nightmare plaguing your mind.

There's a hiss, then "I'm turning the lights off". Your head whips around. That wasn't Mando's voice. The hull is plunged into darkness before you even turn halfway, and you swallow nervously.

"It's ok, I'm right here."

"Mando?"

"Yes."

"You sound…different."

"I know, I'm not wearing my helmet." That knocks the breath right out of your lungs.

"Are you ok?" There is real concern there and it calms your erratic heartbeat.

"I…I think so."

"Nightmare?"

"….yes."

His footsteps echo in the durasteel hull as he moves towards you. You're sitting up now, and a hand reaches out to touch your arm. It startles you, your body recoiling on instinct. You can hear him sigh heavily.

"It was about me, wasn't it?" He sounds tired, weary, so unlike the Mandalorian you have come to know over the past several months. You can't lie to him. You have never been able to lie to him.

"Yes."

"Is there anything I can do?..."

You pause before you speak. A thought comes to mind immediately. It's too forward. You shouldn't ask, you can't.

"Will you stay with me?"

There is a sharp intake of breath, and you curse yourself. This is the longest conversation you have ever been able to hold with Mando, and now you've just embarrassed yourself with your lack of a brain-to-mouth filter.

"Ok."

That made sense, you dumb imbecile…Wait…What?!

You must have heard wrong, that was the only explanation.

"Just a moment."

Was there a problem with how fast your heart-rate just spiked? You must be having physical complications from the nightmare, or maybe you hit your head while you were struggling. A clang echoes through the hull, then another. You hold your breath for a second, then realize that he is probably removing his boots. Your cot is by no means spotless, but you appreciate the sentiment. He moves towards the cot again, and you slide over to make room for him. Unfortunately, you severely overestimate the amount of space on your cot, and approximately one millisecond later you are experiencing the weightless feeling of doom that always precedes an inevitable fall.

An arm curls around your waist at the last second, and you can't hold back your gasp of surprise. Mando hauls you back up onto the cot, and it's not until the entirety of your back comes into contact with the duraweave covering his warm chest that you realize he is not wearing a single scrap of beskar. Your breath exits your body in a shudder as you bask in the comforting warmth of his body.

It’s several minutes later when Mando finally breaks the silence. "Do you feel any better?"

There is no way he is being serious. If he was blind and deaf, he still wouldn't be able to miss how you practically melted into his touch. Why, that little...The light chuckle against your ear confirms your suspicions, and if this was any other situation you would be fuming at the insinuation. But this is Mando, your Mando, some traitorous part of your mind whispers. Despite your les than pleasant mood, you find yourself enjoying this tiny glimpse into the playful side of his personality.

"Much better, thank you Mando. You really don't have to stay if you don't want to." Why in farrik did you say that?!

"It's alright, I don't mind." Even if he is still teasing you, you don't care. You wouldn't give this up for all the credits on Coruscant.

"Y/n?"

"Yes, Mando."

He lets out a troubled sigh at your response, and you want to take back whatever you did, if only to hear him tease you one more time before he reverts back to his reserved, silent persona.

“I hope you feel...safe when you travel with me.”

“Of course I do.”

“You don’t have to lie to me.”

“I am telling the truth, really I am. I feel safer on this ship, with you, than I do anywhere else.”

"I…there is something I want to tell you."

"Alright."

"My name, my name isn't Mando." He chuckles a little, as if enjoying a private joke. "If it was, it would get a little bit confusing back at the covert." Then he takes a deep breath, as if to gather himself. You move your hand to rest over his arm, which is still draped across your waist, offering what little comfort you can. "My birth name is Din Djarin."

"Din." You test the word on your tongue, and you decide that it suits him well. Simple and straightforward, just like him. "I like it." He releases a hum in response and the way it rumbles through your back, tingles spreading to the top of your head and into your fingertips, has you feeling a pleasant buzz.

You dare to roll over in his arms, nuzzling further into his chest, and your heart swells when he accommodates your change in position by moving one hand to the small of your back, the other cradling your head gently. This moment is so precious, so delicate, and you refrain from speaking or moving, in the hopes of prolonging it for as long as possible.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You must have fallen asleep, because when you wake up there is a shrill beeping coming from the cockpit. With a groan you nuzzle further into your pillow, the arm that’s slung over the pillow flexes to draw it closer to your body. You idly wonder if Mando finally decided to activate the heating system since there is a pleasant warmth engulfing your body.

What's taking him so long? Normally, he spends most of his time in the cockpit, so it seems odd that he hasn't yet attended to the issue.

"Are you gonna get that or am I?" The question is spoken by your ear.

You swear you have never been more awake in your entire life. You shoot straight up but you don’t get very far, a warm hand on your back coaxing you back down against an equally warm body.

"Did you sleep well?"

Osik. Now you remember. The nightmare, Mando holding you gently while you lay on your cot in shock. Oh, wait. You mean Din.

Your eyes finally open and you realize that the artificial lighting is still shut off. That's right, Din isn't wearing his helmet either. As you catalog your surroundings, a blush rises to your cheeks. During the night, you seem to have become very…cuddly. Your head is resting on his very firm chest, an arm slung across his upper body with your hand on his shoulder. One of your legs is thrown over his waist, and your face burns when you register his hand resting innocently on your thigh. It wouldn't be so bad if you were actually wearing pants, but your lazy ass had crawled into bed last night with only a threadbare tunic to cover your form. Suddenly you are even more thankful for the darkness shrouding your figures, all too aware that the tunic had ridden up over your ass during the night. Din's other hand is still nestled around the back of your head, his fingers occasionally massaging at the base of your scalp since your hair is tied up into a haphazard bun.

You have yet to answer him, and your brain sputters as it attempts to think up a witty response.

"Yes, still a little tired though." What kind of answer was that, Y/N? Wow, such a charmer. What you really wanted to say was better than ever.

"That’s to be expected." Kriff, you are hearing his morning voice. You think you might just die on the spot. Hey, at least you'll be ending on a high note.

The beeping still echoes loudly through the hull. "You should get that before the kid wakes up." You nudge softly. He just grunts.

"You can get it, I'm sure it's nothing pressing." He finally responds.

"Hey, this is your ship, you get it." You've always been grumpy in the morning, never an early riser. You shove at him gently to enforce your request but it doesn't even phase him. "Din, come on." Then you're shoving a little harder, feeling victorious when you feel his body move across the cot slightly. You remove the leg from across his waist, using both your feet to assist in shoving him off of the cot. He just chuckles at your efforts, seemingly amused with your irritation. All of a sudden, there is a loud thud and a groan followed by utter silence. Your heart jumps into your throat, you didn't mean to hurt him! You shimmy to the edge of the cot, looking over even though you can't see a thing, hoping that he's not injured from the fall. Stupid, stupid, stupid, you chastise yourself. And then your worry turns to anger when you hear a hearty laugh bubbling up from the floor. How dare he laugh at you.

In any other situation you would be overjoyed at the sound of his laughter, but for some reason you feel incredibly cross this morning. You huff at his mirth, swing your legs over the edge of the cot and stand, intending to investigate the problem in the cockpit yourself. However, the moment you are on your feet you are suddenly plowed into by a warm, firm chest. Din muffles a curse as he catches you, tugging you upright before you slam into the unforgiving durasteel floor.

"What are you doing?" You demand, feeling like a fool. Your emotions are still frazzled after the restless night, and you know you're being unreasonably cross but you can't help yourself.

"Just checking on the cockpit, verd'ika."

The word is unfamiliar, but before you can question the meaning he's moving past you towards the ladder. Now that he's gone, you hang your head, ashamed of your behavior. He was being far too kind to receive such harsh treatment from you. He did laugh at me though. Without his presence, you feel a little silly standing in the hull by yourself, so you decide to crawl back into your cot. You turn, fumbling a little in the dark, and hold a hand out to feel your way around. The tip of your fingertips finally brush the cot, and you surge forward, eager to slide underneath your blanket.

Your foot ricochets off something round and extremely solid, and in the next second you’re hopping around on one foot as curses spill from your lips. Stupid helmet, damned Mandalorian, kriffing alarm, frikking nightmares. If this isn't a cursed day you didn't know what to say. You finally set your foot back down and feel around for the position of the helmet as cautiously as you can with your injured foot. Then you give it a solid kick with your, as of yet, uninjured foot. The clang that echoes through the hull is extremely satisfying, and there's a smug smirk tugging at the corners of your lips.

"Are you done abusing my helmet?"

You let out a surprised yelp when he catches you by surprise, but you can't even bring yourself to feel ashamed.

"Just checking to make sure it was still up to snuff. I don't want you to sustain an injury to your head while collecting a bounty."

"Somehow I find that hard to believe."

"Well, I can’t imagine why."

There is a long pause, and you are worried you’ve made him uncomfortable with your banter.

"Do you want to talk about last night?"

As a matter of fact, you do not want to talk about last night. You never want to talk about last night. You just hope that the memory of the nightmare will fade away as soon as you throw yourself into your work.

"I know it can be difficult to share a painful experience. If you ever need to talk about it, I'm here."

"Maybe later?"

"Of course. Now if you don't mind, I am going to need my helmet back."

"Oh, right." You blush as you bend down to retrieve it from the durasteel floor. "Here you go." You try not to hyper-fixate on the brush of skin against skin that accompanies the action of handing over his helmet.

"I am going to turn the lights on now if that's ok."

"That's fine."

You blink your eyes a little when he activates the lights. The first thing you realize is that you are much closer than you expected. In fact you have to crane your neck to meet the visor of his helmet. All of a sudden your throat is dry and you are all too aware of your state of undress. Then you notice that his duraweave suit is extremely form-fitting. Now, when you say form-fitting, you mean he is probably wearing the same suit he wore as a teenager. Every curve of his body, every muscle, is visible to your eyes. You suck in a breath. If you let your gaze wander down just a little. Kriffing hell, you need to get your heart rate checked. Does he know that you are looking at him? He must. Wait...does he like it? You sidle a little closer, and your ego soars when you hear his breath hitch through the modulator. Another step and you're separated by a millimeter of air. You crane your neck back further, gazing into the visor.

"You think you could turn the lights off again, just for a second?"

He doesn't respond verbally, but his hand moves to the side of his helmet and you're surrounded by darkness once again.

You stretch out a hand, breath catching when your fingertips graze the duraweave over his chest. Not wanting to alarm him, you press down gently at first, then his hand is settling over yours, urging you to open your palm and splay your fingers across his chest. You dare to repeat the action with your other hand, basking in the feel of his warmth beneath your palms. Then you’re sliding them up, higher, higher, until they curve around the slopes of his shoulders. You breathe once, twice. You swear you can feel his pulse thrumming beneath your fingers.

"Din." His name escapes your lips like a sigh.

Both his hands move to cover yours, guiding them the rest of the way up, until they settle on the sides of his helmet. He's shaking, you note. His hands are trembling as they cover yours. Then you realize that you are shaking too.

"Is it ok if I….Can I….I don't want to…" You exhale shakily. "Can I lift it just a little?" Your heartbeat is roaring loudly in your ears, you're not sure you'll be able to hear him, even if he does respond.

"Please." He whispers.

You are not sure who moves first, but you will never forget how gentle he is in the moment. His thumbs caress the back of your knuckles, the action so tender, so unlike the hunter he claims to be. There is a pause as he bends down to accommodate your shorter height, his hands guiding yours as he tilts the helmet upwards until his breath is fanning across your lips. It’s absolutely sinful how soft his lips are, how gently he kisses you. The kiss itself is a little clumsy, the lack of experience apparent in both of your actions. But after a few seconds you develop a rhythm.

His hands abandon yours to curl around your waist and neck, and you learn that if you tilt your head just a little, your lips will slot into place like two pieces of a puzzle. You only pull away once your legs begin burning, taxed from standing on your toes the whole time. But Din is having none of that, he bends down further, your back bowing slightly at the change of position, and then he’s kissing you so thoroughly that you’re certain you might pass out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Eventually, you two separate, the cries of the child finally demanding your attention. Din pulls away first, planting a kiss on your forehead before he lets the helmet fall back into place over his lips. The lights are switched back on, and after a longing glance you both move to resume your duties as usual.

When Din turns to collect his armor from the floor, you stand next to your cot with the ploy of folding the blanket and retrieving your day clothes. You feel a little bit ashamed of your devious thought process until he bends over. His firm backside is completely exposed to your eyes, and you can't help but admire the curve of his-

"So am I allowed to stare at your ass too?"

"Din!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Verd’ika: little warrior

#the mandalorian x reader #mando reader fluff #the mandalorian fanfiction #mandalorian x you #reader insert #din dijarin x reader #pedro pascal x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin fluff #star wars imagine #i'm actually really proud of this #first fic

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liquid-luck-00 · 4 years ago

Text

WonderBug

Angst Edition

Diana Prince (Wonder Woman) x Marinette Dupain-Cheng (Ladybug)

I am late. SO, so , so late but here it is

1: Soulmates @maribat-angst-fluff-april

My partner is the wonderful @thedragonbug

Ao3

Fuffy Edition

Soulmates exist, and Marinette hates hers. You see everyone is born with their half or part of a complete soul mark. The other parts would appear when you were closer to your soulmate and be permanent when they were close emotionally. For everyone, the appearance or 'drawing' of the mark was light and warm. But not for her, no her drawing was heavy and hot, like a hot knife digging into her arm.

Her parents knew this, and it was concerning, to know that their child was in pain because of their soulmate. Seeing as the marks were not supposed to be painful. Yet as there was no good reason given by medical and mark professionals, and the fact that her soulmate didn't stay near her for long there was nothing that they could do. They did tell her that few, this phenomenon affects one in a million people and she was just lucky enough to be one of them.

Over the years she grew used to the pain, but every time she did it would come back even stronger than the last. She slowly hated her mark and in turn her soulmate. Marinette would cover her mark, ignore it, even wish it away. All her soulmate did was bring her pain. Sure, it upped her pain tolerance, but it hurt her still.

When she turned fourteen, she became Ladybug. She then recognized that her mark was actually the wire of her yo-yo.

The first time Chat Noir claimed they were soulmates she broke down in tears. luckily for her he told her during patrol and not an attack.

"We aren't soulmates, Chat, and I'm glad we aren't." She nearly whispered.

"Why Bug?"

"Because I hate my soulmate, and I don’t want to ever hate you."

"Why would you hate your soulmate?" He seemed genuinely curious. But no one outside her parents knew, not a single person knew what happens to her.

"Because it hurts when they are close, it hurts so badly. The drawing is painful. I never want to meet the person who keeps hunting me." Tears formed in her eyes and Chat hugged her.

"I'm not your soulmate, then." She shook her head. "Good thing I'm your partner, and Plagg help me I am going to be your best friend. Got that Bugaboo?"

A half-hearted chuckle and a small smile escaped her. "Sounds good Kitty." The first person she has ever told, the person who was convinced that they were soulmates, cares for her, to help alleviate some of her pain.

The two became inseparable after that, to the point that most of Paris believed they were in a relationship.

When Nadia asked them about it during an interview, their reactions were memorable. Both all but gagged, turned to face each other, and then laughed almost falling out of the seats.

"I believe we have missed the joke." Nadia commented, worried, and confused.

"Why would I date my sister?"

"Sister?"

"Ladybug and I consider each other siblings in all but blood."

"Everything between us is simply platonic, not even close to romantic.” Ladybug answered after Chat.

“Then why would the whole of Paris believe you to be soulmates?” She may be good at hiding her pain, but the question must have made her react slightly, or Chat knew how sensitive the topic was to her.

“We aren’t soulmates, not the bonded ones that everyone thinks of.” He began. “We are the holders of the black cat and ladybug respectively because our souls resonate with the miraculous. Sure, they are two parts of a whole, but we are practically twins, two halves of coin. She is the sister I choose, she is my partner, and that is our relationship.”

“He’s completely right, now I think it’s time for us to start our patrol, BugOut!” Her smile now in place and their excuse to leave perfectly timed and respectful they made their exit.

They went on their patrol as normal, except just as they arrived at the Eiffel Tower to end the patrol. She was about to land on the platform when a searing pain flashed and radiating affecting her entire body blinding her momentarily. A single moment caused her to collapse on the tower landing, crumpling on the platform.

“LB!” Her breath came out in short bursts, she was clutching her upper arm eyes squeezed shut. This was the worst it has ever happened before, and she wanted it to end. As soon as the cause of pain came it disappeared. Leaving only the memory and a phantom pain.

"Just give me a minute." She slowly got her breathing under control, starting to get accustomed to the new level of pain.

"You weren't kidding that is the worst I’ve ever seen you hurt."

"Yeah not fun."

---

A month after that her mark burned again. This time during class. The teachers knew she would randomly stop due to pain, but they were told they were random migraines. To the point Mari would hold her head and rub her arm to sooth herself, while playing up a headache. Adrien stayed back after the class let out." You know you don't always need to put on a brave face Bugaboo."

Her attention snapped to him. "Well it's easier than constantly answering questions Kitty." She figured quickly.

Sure, they found out one another's identity, but that worked in their favor. After Tikki got sick, Fu started training Mari, and after a month Marinette was given guardianship. Fu still hasn’t lost his memories because Mari let Wayzz stay with him, for the time being, he eventually returns it to Mari in order to move on with his life, his memories fading gradually.

When Adrien got his hands on the grimoire, he of course showed it to Marinette.

“Kitty I know you don’t want to hear this, but I think your dad might be Hawkmoth.” This seemed to perfect for him to have without him being a villain.

“I know, but…”

“Adrien is there any motive anything that might be what he would wish for?”

“My mom. Dad closed himself off when she disappeared. I bet he would wish for her back.”

“Okay, so I’m going to be blunt okay.” He nodded. “So, if your mom is dead there isn’t anything that can be done without the wish, meaning at least one other person is dying.”

“So…”

“But if she is anything but.” She flipped through the grimoire recalling the studies she’s did with Fu. “There are ways we can find or even heal her.”

“This is all riding on an if.” He looked unsure as if this was too much to accept.

“Do you trust me?”

“If I didn’t, I would have turned tail and run a long time ago.”

“You dork.” She lightly shoved him, but he swayed dramatically.

“You two are close.” The new student in their class came up to them.

“Lila, right?”

“That’s right.” She answered sickly sweet, almost fake. “Are you two soulmates by any chance?”

“No.” Adrien answered. “Why?”

“You’re Adrien Agreste! Why would you be in public school?” She finally seemed to recognize.

“Let’s just say it’s a bit of rebellion.” He chuckled.

“We’re still on for video games, right?” She brought up to end the conversation seeing that Adrien was getting uncomfortable.

“Your winning streak is going down.” He announced.

“You want to join us, Lila?” She offered.

“Why?”

“Because your new and I want to get to know you.” Marinette answered honestly.

“Why?”

“Because we know you lied but still want to know you, the real you.” Adrien added.

“Why?” She asked suspiciously now.

“Question! Is it a felony to kidnap her to play video games, have snacks, get to know her, then let her go?”

“Well the kidnapping part is but if she goes willingly, I call that a hangout session.” Adrien mused.

“True, true.” She hummed. “So, what do you say, because now I am determined to get to know you.”

“Wh…”

“Kidnapping it is.” Adrien decided and grabbed the new girl’s wrist pulling her out of the library. Mari picking up their bags.

Lila herself wasn’t too bad once she started telling the truth, lying is a coping mechanism she created, because she is constantly moving schools, cities, and even countries. She is pretty interesting when she isn’t exaggerating. She was on a Hollywood movie set, but she was there on accident, she was looking for the bathroom in a restaurant and they were filming there that day. She did save a kitten on a tarmac once, but one it wasn’t Jagged Stones, it was a kitten who spooked out of their carrier and rushed down the stairs. Lila dove and caught it before it could leave the passenger unloading area to get the tram to the airport. (Some small airports unload passengers in a certain area of the tarmac and either shuttle them to the building or have a sectioned of walkway that is cleared for passengers, to walk back in only.)

After almost two hours Lila left for home when Adrien’s father called, and he was angry. Together she and Adrien ran back to the Agreste Mansion.

“Adrien!” Gabriel came out disheveled and slightly panicked. “And Miss Dupain-Cheng.” He slightly composed himself.

“Sorry I kept him.” She apologized. “He showed me this really cool book and you know how it is when inspiration hits.”

“Ah yes the inspiring fashion designer friend.” Adrien had walked up and handed his father the grimoire.

“It’s quite an interesting spell book.”

“You can read it?”

“Yes, I can. (Come on out little butterfly.)” Nooroo flew out from his hiding spot. “Hello kwamii of transmission and to you as well Hawkmoth.” She was calm deathly calm.

“How?!” Gabriel growled.

“Calm down. I have a question for you first. You want the jewels used by Ladybug and Chat Noir, why?”

“Would my answer change your plan of action to urn me into authorities and to the heroes?”

“My response may change, but you’ll have to answer to find out.”

“My wife wielder the peacock miraculous, it is broken, and she fell ill, and is in a comatose state.”

“Ah! So here is what is going to happen.” She took the grimoire from Gabriel and flipped over pages. “There is a way to revive her without resorting to using the wish.”

“How do you know this?”

She simply smiled. “You mind gathering these ingredients please Adrien?” She text him a list.

“Sure.”

“How do I know that this isn’t a ruse?”

“One I hate liars, and two because all magic has a cost, and this way is less than if you were to use the wish.”

“What do you mean cost?”

“Just like using your transformation wears on the kwamii, and the power affects your limit. Magic has its cost. The wish because it will always rewrite reality, the price is steep. Bringing back one life means you lose at minimum one other person from your life most likely more.”

“And this?”

“From what I understand. Everyone involved in the spell will have their energies deprecated so they will sleep for a day to a week.”

“Randomly?”

“No, the more people the less each person sleeps.”

“Here they are!” Adrien burst back in the room.

“Do you have the peacock miraculous?” Gabriel nodded. “Okay we’ll need that first, so lead the way to the kitchen.” Both men shuffled confused. “You do know where the kitchen is right?”

“Um well find it eventually.” Adrien chuckled. They were lucky and form it easily and Gabriel left while she and Adrien began to individually brew two separate potions. Adrien the more complex one for his mother’s revival. And she did the simpler one to fix the miraculous. Sue her Adrien is the better one in chemistry, sure he can’t cook to save himself, but he has a gift for chem, and Tikki help her she will teach him to cook. It’s practically edible chemistry, right?!

She took the Brock from Gabriel and fixed it, allowing Duusu out. “Okay so who is going to do this?”

“We will,” Adrien answered for himself and his Father, who nodded.

“Please let be help as well.” Miss Sancoeur offered.

Nooroo, Duusu, Tikki, and Plagg (they came out of hiding now) came to her. “We can help.”

She nodded and saw that Gabriel and Natalie were staring wide eyed between her and Adrien. She thought she heard Natalie say, ‘That explains so much’ but she isn’t sure.

Long story short they were able to wake up Emile, but she took back the peacock and butterfly, leaving Plagg with Adrien. Funnily enough the Agreste’s became a second family to her, once Gabriel finally grasped how to be a father. They told Paris that they had found Hawkmoth, but he would be tried by the order of Miraculous, meaning he would be stripped of the gem and his memories of the miraculous erased. It was a lie but Tikki told her that was what would have happened. There was some outcry, but they explained that they would have no recollection of it, and it wouldn’t make sense to try them.

The next few years of her life were blissfully normal, aside from the fact she had a contract under the Gabriel brand as the designer MDC, who was also endorsed by Style Queen. Chloe isn’t as bad as she puts on when she isn’t masking the hurt of being constantly ignored and bought by her parents.

- - -

It wasn’t until she was twenty-two and accompanying Adrien to a Wayne charity gala, one he didn’t want to go alone and two she was invited anyways, Chloe, Kagami, and Luka were also there on their own merits and invitations so they all stuck relatively together. Since arriving there Marinette was a constant pain, her arm burned and ached, but she forced herself to simply breathe and tried her hardest to push it out of her mind. But her luck wouldn’t hold, three hours into the event she was approached by who she recognized as Bruce Wayne, the host of the gala, and a woman to his left, the pain was almost unbearable the closer the two approached. Her friends noticed, they knew what her pain actually meant, as she opened up to them about it after a while, but she grit her teeth and tried to push through it.

“Mr. Agreste, Miss Bourgeois It is good to see you both again.” Bruce Wayne acknowledged. “It’s nice to meet all of you as well, Bruce Wayne.” He introduced to the rest, shaking hands. “And this is a good friend of mine.”

“Diana Prince.” She also went to shake everyone’s hands and had left Marinette for the last. The moment their hands touched she almost crumpled, she shrunk back and into Adrien and Chloe. “Is she okay?”

“Diana?” Bruce pointed towards her upper arm, the mark most of them overlooked before was now complete and glowing lightly. What Marinette remembered was that there was her yo-yo string and a golden rope that she only saw once before on her own arm. She felt sick, Diana was staring at her now, she recognized that Marinette was her soulmate.

“Melody?” Luka now stepped up.

“I want to leave.” She answered flatly.

“You are…”

She completely turned away, but by now her friends knew what was going on and were glaring at Diana. “I want to leave, now.” She repeated.

“Come on bug, let’s get you away from… this.” He threw a look at Diana, who was looking confused and seemingly alarmed.

The other three were putting as much space as they could between their friend and who is unknowingly causing her pain.

“Please is she alright?” Diana asked stepping forward barely grazing her hand covering her mark. This time it felt as if the skin itself was burning and stung almost like it was being pricked over and over and over again.

“Don’t touch me and stay away from me.” On the outside she looks clam and relaxed, but her voice was soft and raw, her eyes burned in pain. “You and that completed mark can stay far from me.”

“Luka, Kagami mind taking her back to the house?” The two in question led her away and once a safe distance away she broke down in tears, sobbing from the pain she was biting down.

- - -

The two that stayed were simultaneously glaring at her and watching their friends leave the gala.

“Is she alright?” Bruce finally bole the tension.

“As soon as she is far enough away from her.” The girl, Chloe, snapped at her. “Now that we know who is the the person causing her pain, we can keep her from them.” She snapped towards her, but it was a slap to Diana.

“I don’t follow. We are…”

“Soulmates, yeah we figured.” Adrien this time spoke.

“They why would she want to leave, without speaking?”

“One one in a million people are in pain when they are close to their soulmates.” Adrien spoke calmly but stoically. “No one knows why.” He began to fidget with a ring on hi# finger, she couldn’t recall if she saw any jewelry on her soulmate, Marinette, but she has a suspicion. After all she feels similar to her Mother’s aura and presence, that of a Ladybug.

“You are wrong. There is an explanation, but only a few know why that is.” She feels certain that she knows what this is.

“Let me guess you know why.” Chloe remarked, sarcastically and unamused.

“Allow me to explain this another time and place, as this is neither.”

“Fine call this number at noon est tomorrow.” Adrien handed her a phone number and the two turned and left.

“Diana?” Bruce snapped her attention. “What was that about?” He was still calm and collected but she knew he would be the one to ask, figuring out what was the next step, what had the best options of success.

“Magic.”

- - -

The next day she called the number and she was invited to a video call by the recipient. It turned out to be Marinette.

“Hello Diana.” Her voice was not cold but it was emotionless, as if she was forced into this conversation. Granted she did think she would be speaking with Adrien and Chloe.

“I never wanted to harm you, I swear that on the river Styx.” she began but before she could continue Marinette cut in.

“Let’s be clear, I don’t care about your apologies. I just want to know why this is happening and how to either get rid of it or to never have contact with you in any way or proximity.”

“I am apologizing because this is known as the curse of the ladybug and black cat.” She saw the young woman tense at that. “The reason I know of this is from by Mother, Queen Hippolyta Of the Amazon’s.” She allowed that to sink in and the other woman allowed her to drop her defense, nodding to what is said.

“When you say the curse of the ladybug and black cat what do you mean by that?”

“True souls of the miraculous, when in their life they come into contract with their given gems, cause a reaction.” Diana explained. “For the ladybug they receive the pain of their soulmate through their marks. Which is what I assume is going on.”

“Yes you’re right, but this has been going ever since I could remember.”

“Call it what you will fate, destiny, but you were always going to wield the ladybug jewel, that is why the curse manifested itself.”

“What about the black cat?”

“I am unsure, the black cat of my Mother’s time died before meeting their soulmate, but I would assume it would be similar to our situation.”

“Then how do we solve this?”

~~~~~~~~~~

Permanent Taglist: @itsmeevie01 @adrestar @miraculouspenta @vixen-uchiha @animegirlweeb @jumpingjoy82 @thedragonbug@astoriaandroses @icerosecrystal @t1dwarrior-of-earth @moon5606 @zalladane

#maribat #dc x miraculous #dc x mlb #mlb x dc #miraculous x dc #mlb x mcu #mdcu marinette #mdcu adrien #mdcu wonder woman #wonderbug #wonder woman x marinette #maribat angst and fuff #maribatangstandfuff

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mrsalwayswrite · 4 years ago

Text

To Call Forth Love - Chapter 9

Yay! Next chapter! True confessions, this *sorta* slow burn is killing me....and i’m the one writing it! (sorry not sorry?)

Warnings: some swearing, nothing really, Hvitserk being a good bro?

Words:7100 (I hope these longer chapters make up for the wait)

Tag List: @youbloodymadgenius @evelynshelby @pomegranates-and-blood @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @heavenly1927 @zuxiezendler @punkrocknpearls @love-all-things-writing @southernbe

Series Masterlist

The ringing of her phone had Kari dropping the leggings she was folding on her bed to quickly snatch it up.

"Albus!"

The voice on the other end sighed. "You know I hate that nickname."

Kari laughed, picking the leggings back up to fold. "But it fits you so perfectly."

"I am not an old wizard."

"I'll give you that, but you're studious, kind and too wise for someone your age. So close enough."

"I suppose if I haven't been able to convince you to drop that nickname for the past ten years, I won't be able to now."

"Nope." She cheerfully said. "So, how are you? Your mother still wreaking havoc in your life?"

"She set me up on a date last week." He grumbled after a moment's hesitation.

In her mind, she could imagine him sitting at his desk with a slight furrow between his brows and lips pursed as he lamented his mother's involvement in his love life. This would not be the first time he complained to Kari about this topic. "Ohhhh? How did that go?" She asked, even if by his tone she could already guess his answer.

"I know my mother means well, but the women she thinks I should date…." He trailed off with a forlorn sigh.

"Not your type?"

"No."

"I'm sorry. You'll find someone and your mother won't be able to help but love them."

He snorted inelegantly. "I won't hold my breath for that."

"See, you're so wise." She teased, smiling as she folded a work shirt. "Now, what else is new since last month?"

The two spent the next hour talking. It had become their tradition after she moved. Hearing the gentle cadence in his voice, his quiet chuckles, it sent a wave of nostalgia washing over her. He was the only person from England she still kept in communication with, the only one who knew where she was. The last string tying her to her prior life. Although she would not have labeled him her best friend, they were certainly close and even more so after she moved. In their monthly conversations, they would chat about anything new in their lives, TV shows watched, books read, his latest exams in university. He always made sure to inform her what he knew about her family. Something she was grateful for but it always felt like a knife to the heart after.

As they talked, she finished folding her laundry, a necessary evil in her opinion. Once done with that, she moved on to the package she received in the mail today. It was addressed to her but the sender was a designer name she would never be able to afford in her lifetime. She shook her head, wondering what surprise the youngest Lothbrok had bought for her.

Listening to him regale her with the latest family drama of his, she opened the package and had to muffle a gasp at the two dresses that lay inside. The first was an off-the-shoulder, black skater dress that would reach mid-thigh in length. It was a classy and elegant cocktail dress that reminded her of the dress she wore on her and Ivar's "date" but way more sophisticated and stylish. It was the second dress that made her pause and wonder where Ivar thought she would ever wear something like this. It was a deep red evening gown, the hem long enough to trail slightly on the ground. The dress was gorgeous with a tight bodice and slight flair of the skirt. It was the slit in the skirt that touched her upper thigh and the sheer middle of the bodice that made Kari raise her eyebrows. The gown was the perfect blend of chic and sexy. What was Ivar thinking? She would feel so self-conscious and she never went anywhere fancy enough to wear it. Though as she stared at both dresses, she decided it never hurt to admire them on the hanger, even if she never got the chance to wear them. As her friend continued speaking, she hung both dresses up in her closet, making a mental note to talk to Ivar.

"It's probably good your brother moved out last year." She commented, tucking her laundry basket away in her closet.

"Yeah. He only comes over to the house if he has to." He said with a resigned sigh. After a long moment of silence, he spoke up again. His voice hesitant, almost remorseful, as what had been obviously on the tip of his tongue finally came forth. "Your mother has been talking about trying to find you again."

Kari froze, her mind shorting out and heart rate skyrocketing as his statement sunk in. "What…. what did she say?"

"Not much that I overheard." He confessed, sympathy in each word. "How much she misses her only daughter and feels abandoned by you. She has been telling people that you're doing charity work in another country when they ask about you."

"It's been almost two years… I hoped…" She slumped onto her bed, legs wobbling and mind whirling.

"That your mother would forget about you?"

"I don't know. I just…. I don't know."

Silence reigned for a moment before he spoke again.

"Are you ever coming home?"

"I…. I don't think that's home anymore."

"I miss you." He whispered.

Tears welled in her eyes. She took a deep breath forcing them back, but knew her shaky voice betrayed her. "I miss you too. Maybe you can come visit me here?"

"That would blow your cover."

"Could we meet up somewhere? You take a vacation or something?"

"I'll consider it…." His voice trailed off, only to come back stronger. "You know, when you wanted help to leave England, I thought it was just a temporary reprieve. I didn't imagine you would stay away."

It felt like a knife twisted in her gut, because he was right. She had never thought she would be gone this long. "I know…. I just…. I like my life here. I don't…. I don't want to go back to that."

He sighed as if giving up on convincing her to return. "I understand. I'll always be here for you. I still think of you as one of my closest friends."

"Same. We've known each other since we were thirteen. A few countries between us isn't going to stop that."

He chuckled. "Right. Well, I'll still hold you to your promise. If we're both unmarried by thirty-five, we'll have a courthouse wedding to keep our families off our backs."

"Sounds good." She laughed out, wiping the tears from her eyes.

"I have to go. I'll text you about when we can catch up next month."

"Perfect. Stay safe, Albus."

"You too, Abs."

"Ugh! That nickname is worse than yours!" She groaned, hearing a small chuckle on the other end of the phone. "Bye!"

After hanging up, she stared at her phone for a minute, the smile fading as her mind revisited the conversation. The weight of everything slammed into her, her body no longer able to support her under the strength of her duress. She crumpled onto her bed, curling into a fetal position, tears streaming down her cheeks. It hurt that England no longer felt like home to her, but neither did where she currently lived. What hurt and confused her most, was when she thought of being home- Ivar's face filled her mind's eye.

*****

"Thank you everyone for coming to class today. I'll see you either tomorrow or next week."

With the lights still dim, Kari turned off the soothing water music over the speakers in the yoga studio room. The women who had been laying in corpse pose on their mats began to rise and gather up their personal items. A quiet murmur of voices replaced the music in the enclosed room. She waved at a few of the regulars as they left her class. Even if she was not the one doing all the poses, by the end of class she still felt refreshed and rejuvenated. It always brought her joy to see people come in, stressed or anxious, and leave her class with a smile on their faces or just looking less tense.

Through the mirrors along the wall at the front of the room, she could see the tall, statuesque blonde making her way over, yoga mat tucked under her arm.

"Hey, you doing anything for lunch?" Gyda asked, coming up beside her. Even in leggings and a tight tank top, she looked like someone off the covers of a women's magazine. All Kari could figure was it was in the Lothbrok blood.

"Um, working on inventory?"

"How about instead you come out to lunch with us?" She motioned vaguely towards Torvi, who was gathering up her yoga mat. "We planned on stopping at that new boutique down the strip. So, we can just meet you for lunch when you're done."

"Really?" The brunette was startled by the offer. Sure, she had gone out with Gyda a few times but never with Torvi too. The three would chat occasionally before or after class and she liked Torvi's no-nonsense attitude. They had flippantly made comments about the three of them going out but to actually hear they wanted her presence both surprised and warmed her heart. "Torvi is okay with this too?"

Gyda rolled her eyes. "Yes. So…. Yes? No? Don't leave me in suspense."

"Yeah, I'd love to."

"Great. Text me when you're done and we'll meet up."

"It'll be at least half an hour…."

Gyda waved her off, her voice growing louder. "That's fine. Torvi takes forever when she browses anyway."

"Sorry, I like to think through my purchases before I buy something!"

Kari smiled at Torvi's retort. The other blonde was checking her phone, a smile on her face though as she peered up at her sister-in-law and her yoga instructor.

"Are you joining us?" She called over.

"Of course, she is!" Gyda replied, before Kari could respond. "But she's only coming if you swear not to share any stories about you and Bjorn's kinky sex life. Nobody wants to hear that."

Without a word, Torvi gave her the middle finger salute, before looking back down at her phone.

Gyda chuckled then turned to raise an eyebrow at the shorter woman. "Unless you're into that kind of stuff…."

"Oh gods, Gyda! No!" Her face flushed at the thought.

"Hey, it's the quiet ones who are the kinkiest. I bet Ivar would like that." She laughed as Kari tried to swat at her. Taking a step back, she pretended to zip her lips. "Don't worry, your secret's safe with me. Text me when you're done! We can meet at the café down the street. "

Kari waved at Torvi as the two blondes walked out of the studio room. Quickly, she hurried to finish tidying up. It had been a long time since she felt this excited to go out to eat with some female friends. A handful of times she had gone out with some coworkers or Lydia. In the beginning she was excited when Alana would invite her out with her friends to a club or bar but Kari quickly learned that was not her scene and began making every excuse possible to not be forced out with them. She always felt like an afterthought amongst the group, especially since getting drunk nor sleeping around was not her style. This time, she had high hopes for spending time with Gyda and Torvi. It would be nice to have female friends again.

The door to the studio room opened and Lydia popped her head in. "Almost done? You've got a visitor out here and he's causing quite the distraction." She said with a distinct shit-eating grin and wink before ducking back out.

"He?" Kari questioned out loud, although her mind suspected who it was. He was the only one who ever visited her. Slipping her phone into the pocket of her maroon leggings, she gave the room one final survey, wanting it to be ready for the next class before she left. With a nod, she headed out, the door swinging shut behind her.

In the large open area, she understood what Lydia meant by 'causing quite the distraction'. If she paused for a moment to drink the sight in, no one could possibly know, right?

Ivar leaned his shoulder against a wall, arms crossed over his chest with the sleeves of his dress shirt rolled up to display his toned forearms. His dark locks were pulled back loosely in a man-bun, a few tendrils slipped free. Even in jeans, braces and smart-looking leather shoes, he looked quite handsome. With no cane in sight, it must be a good day.

Kari noticed more than one pair of eyes lingering on him from around the studio although he did not seem to notice as he stood there talking with Gyda and Torvi in hushed tones. The latter said something that immediately caused Ivar to narrow his eyes at her as he snapped a comment.

Even from across the room, Kari could read the tension in his frame and decided to intervene before he caused a scene. Walking over to them, aware of the many sets of eyes upon the group of three, she fixed a smile on her face. Once those intense, blue eyes locked onto her and his posture softened marginally, her smile transitioned into a genuine grin. "Hey, Ivar, what are you doing here?" She asked, coming to stand between him and Gyda.

"Do I need a reason to come see you?" He smirked down at her.

That look released butterflies in her stomach but she ignored them to tease him back. "Usually that's how it works."

"And if that reason is to fulfill my quota?"

The blush that rose to her cheeks was so hot, she wondered if you could fry an egg on her face. Immediately, she dropped her chin to her chest, willing the warmth to vanish.

"Hmmm…. that blush for me, kattungen?" He shifted closer so his mouth was near her ear, his question asked in such a lecherous tone, Kari felt her core clench.

"Shut up." She mumbled, pushing him away. He rocked back on his heels, a smug grin on his face, and an amused chuckle leaving his lips.

Gyda patted Kari's shoulder, drawing the brunette's attention upward again. "Text me when you're done. We'll leave you with this grumpy asshole. I'm sure you can think of a way to cheer him up." She winked as she took a step away.

For a moment, Kari wished the ground would open up beneath her. Between Gyda's teasing comments and Ivar's blatant remarks and heated looks, Kari's face was going to be permanently red in an endless flush.

"Good luck on your trip, Ivar." Torvi called over her shoulder as she followed Gyda.

"Oi! Tell Bjorn to keep his big fucking mouth shut!" He yelled after the blondes; the tension returned with Torvi's parting statement. Glaring at the door the two women passed through, he muttered something in a foreign language as he rubbed his hand over his mouth. Briefly, his thoughts seemed to take him elsewhere but he quickly snapped back, blue eyes finding Kari once again.

It was only something she had realized lately, but when he looked at her, that consuming and burning gaze landing on her with all the impact of a sledgehammer, it made her feel like the only woman in the room. It was such a cliché thing, something stupid out of a romance novel, but it was the only way she could describe the feeling. When he looked at her like this, nothing else mattered in the room. She had his whole attention, all his focus. It was heady and powerful and terrifying and astounding. The weight of others watching made her skin itch but with his gaze locked on hers, lips tilted up slightly in the hint of a fond smile, she felt in the eye of a hurricane.

Her blue-green eyes dropped to his chest, unable to maintain eye contact when it left her feeling so flustered. Tugging on her earlobe, she quietly asked. "What are you doing here? I thought I wasn't seeing you until you picked me up for dinner tonight?"

"Something came up." Silently, he reached over and grasped her hand, causing her head to jerk up. Intertwining their fingers, he watched her with regret in his eyes. "I have to fly out to Italy in two hours."

"Oh. Is everything okay?" That was not what she had expected to hear. Her heart plummeted that their dinner would have to be canceled but tried not to let it show.

"Is there somewhere we can talk in private?"

"Um, sure." Emotions flickering between curiosity and concern, she guided him back to the studio room. The weight of eyes lingered as they walked, especially since he refused to release her hand. A brief glance at the front counter, only to see Lydia and Sasha both staring at her with amused and proud smiles, had Kari trying to hurry out of sight with Ivar in tow.

Soon as the door shut behind them, hiding them from view, he pulled her against his body, one arm wrapping around her waist, trapping her against him while the other hand gripped the back of her neck. He kissed her passionately, like a man dying of thirst and only she could save him.

"Ivar…." She tried to pull away, aware she was at work and anyone could walk in. Instead, he held her tighter, molding her body to his. The drugging kiss that followed had her all but melting against him, knees weak and her resolve disappearing like smoke in the wind. When she opened her mouth, inviting his tongue to dance with hers, the growl that erupted from him was so thready and rough, it called to a primal part of her, making her warm all over and a tightness grow in her belly.

It had been two days since they had seen each other and she genuinely missed him. They had been texting during that time, but it was not the same. She missed his presence, his touch, his kisses, his grumpy comments and the way he made her laugh. Even when he annoyed or frustrated her, he still was the color in her otherwise monochromatic world. And with each day that passed, her desire to push him away fractured a little bit more.

When their mouths finally unlocked, both panting and lips swollen and red, she was almost shocked the nearby mirrors were not fogged up. Breathless and overwhelmed, she pressed her forehead to his, her arms around his neck. For a minute they stood there peacefully, only the sounds of their ragged breathing and the occasional noise from those outside of the studio room broke through their tranquility.

"What's going on, Ivar?"

"Something with work."

"Does this have to do with why you've been so busy?"

He sighed but when he spoke in a hushed tone, the rage painting each word was undeniable. "Someone on the inside has been selling information about us." She gasped, shocked but when she tried to pull away to look at him, he tugged her back against him, placing his chin on the top of her head. "I think I know who the fucker is."

"That's why you're going to Italy?"

"Hmmm."

"Will you be safe?"

That made him chuckle, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Are you worried about me?"

She thought about making a joke, about teasing him about his recklessness. Instead the question knocked the air from her lungs momentarily, because the truth was, she was. What little she had gleaned about his work when he needed to vent, there was still an element of danger to it. She tipped her face up to look at him, her answer a quiet murmur that did nothing to hide the emotion behind her words. "Yes…. I don't know what I'd do if you got hurt."

The amusement in his eyes drained to be replaced with a softness that made her heart clench. He inhaled sharply and glanced away for a moment. "Fuck, kitten…." When he turned back, he kissed her tenderly, a slow melding of their mouths like the taste of her was a fine wine he wanted to sip on endlessly. There was a promise in his action, just as much as his words when he finally whispered against her lips. "I'll be safe, just meeting with a contact. That's all."

"Okay, just please be careful." Worry still tainted her, but she trusted Ivar to keep himself safe. He had been doing this job far longer than she had known him.

"Don't tell anyone about what I've said. No one else knows."

"I promise. Not a word."

"Good girl." He swatted her ass, making her squeak and glare up at him. "I'm going to have Hvitserk check up on you later."

"That's not necessary." She tried to say. She would hate to be a waste of time for the older Lothbrok. The look he gave her said to not argue with him. "Fine," she dramatically sighed, "maybe him and I will watch movies and cuddle since you're soooo busy. I wonder if he'd think my bed is comfy enough or if the couch is better?"

"Don't you fucking dare." He growled, gripping her waist in a possessive hold.

She just laughed at how easy he was to wind up. It was mean and she knew it.

He nipped at her bottom lip. "Keep playing, Kari and I'll have to punish you."

"I have no idea what you're talking about." She batted her lashes at him, failing to suppress a childish giggle.

He rolled his eyes, the twitch of his lips betrayed his amusement. "I need to go." He softly said though he made no move to release her from his arms.

With that a wave of worry and fear cascaded over her, it was unfounded she knew, but it still threatened to drag her into its depths. Not giving it a second thought, she raised up on her toes to plant a lingering kiss on his lips.

"You're not helping." He muttered, never removing his mouth from hers.

"Maybe take the next flight?"

"Don't tempt me, vixen. I'll lock that door and have my wicked way with you right fucking here until everyone hears you screaming my name."

Between the image he painted in her mind and his mouth having moved to her pulse point, heated arousal pooled between her legs. She gulped, her mouth suddenly dry and words sticking to her throat.

He leaned back, a devious smirk on his lips at her obviously flushed face. "No, my priestess," he purred, a filthy, predatory glint in his blue eyes, she could not help but gasp as her knees threatened to buckle under her. "When I finally have you, it'll be somewhere I can both worship you and fuck you all night long without fear of being interrupted."

She let out a shaky breath. "But, um…. we…. ah."

"Soon, Vakker, blir du min." He kissed her roughly, as if sealing his words. "I do need to leave. Walk with me." He took her hand, leading her out of the studio room, giving her no choice but to walk beside him. Not that her brain was fully able to make coherent decisions at the moment.

As they walked towards the front of the building, she wondered if their make-out session was obvious. Her lips felt red and swollen and a blush still colored her cheeks. A glance at Ivar showed his lips fuller but he appeared so calm and collected it was unfair.

"Did you like the dresses?" He asked, breaking her out of her thoughts.

"I do. They both are gorgeous, but they're too much. I don't have a reason to dress up that fancy."

"With me, you will. I'll get you some casual dresses too."

"Ivar…." She whined.

"You need more clothes, Kari."

"Fine. Not because I want more clothes but because I know you'll buy them for me anyway."

He winked at her, his tone smug. "I always get my way."

"You're unbelievable."

They stopped beside his SUV, parked next to the sidewalk. His driver was already in the driver's seat waiting. Kari made sure to wave at the man, earning a nod back from him. The driver was a huge guy with long, thick locks of white hair and a scar on his face. He intimidated Kari but she tried to ignore that and be friendly. Even if Ivar made fun of her for it.

"I should be back tomorrow unless some shit comes up." Ivar stated, opening the back door.

"Okay. Be safe."

"Stop worrying. Shit. I'll be fine." He remarked, sliding into his seat. Before he closed the door, he met her gaze. "I'll text you."

She smiled in acknowledgment and stepped back, giving him a quick wave as she headed back inside and his SUV started off.

Lydia leaned against the front counter with Sasha and Alicia now, all three watching her with expressions ranging from amused to shocked.

"Um, I'm going to…. go on my lunch break now." She mumbled and hurried away to grab her purse from the office, the sounds of laughter following her.

The stray thought crossed her mind that she would need some new bras if Ivar was set on buying her new clothes. Not that he would see those bras, but it would be good to have…. and maybe some matching panties.

*****

Summer was transitioning to fall, cool undertones intermixed with the residual warmth of a September evening.

Kari stared at the book in her lap but the words blurred together no matter how many times she reread the same line. She loved reading outside, sitting on the small patio behind the townhouse, especially when none of the neighbors were out. She could pretend it was her own place of solace, being out in nature. The sunlight shined through the line of pine trees separating their row of townhouses from the ones behind them, bird songs mixed with the sound of traffic from the nearby roads. She much preferred this too being stuck indoors.

Today though, her mind drifted like the breeze, but it all centered on a conversation she had not even ten minutes ago. If she listened closely, she could hear Alana through the screen door, making her dinner in the kitchen. She knew it was not Alana's fault, but the conversation still felt like a rug had been yanked from underneath the brunette. With everything going so well in her life, of course fate had to throw her a curveball.

Now her mind scrambled as what to do next.

A sound from her left had her glance over to see Erik stepping out of his back door. A boyish grin lit up his face when he saw her.

"Hi, Kari. Beautiful evening, isn't it?"

"Yeah. It is." She gave a half-hearted smile, watching as he closed the door behind him and stepped closer.

"Mind if I join you?"

She waved a hand at the patio set. "Not at all." Hopefully talking with Erik would be the distraction she needed for the moment, to pull her out of her quagmire of thoughts.

Dropping onto the cushioned chair to her left, he ran a hand through his dirty blond hair. In jeans and a t-shirt, he appeared ready to relax for the evening.

"What are you reading this time?" He asked curiously. This would not be the first time he had found her outside reading.

She reclined on the two-person, cushioned couch, legs up and bent with her open book resting against her thighs, wearing her typical leggings and slouchy shirt. At his question, she flashed him the cover. "The Princess Bride."

"Isn't that a movie?"

She pretended to gasp in horror. "Yes, but the book is still a classic."

He raised his hands in surrender, grin spreading across his face. “If you say. Not really my taste. So how was your day?"

"Nothing exciting. Yours?"

"The usual. Customers thinking they could do my job better than me."

She winced. "I know the feeling."

They made small talk for some time, talking about work and a documentary he recommended for her to watch. They argued which was the better coffee shop nearby, something they continuously disagreed on. Soon the upsetting conversation with Alana drifted to the back of her mind. It did not take long for her to close her book and set it on the ground so she could be fully invested in the conversation, especially when Erik became so animated about a topic, his hands waving around like a conductor in his enthusiasm. It was an endearing trait of his, but also alerted her to settle in because it meant he would not need much encouragement to keep talking.

The opening of the sliding door behind Kari stunted their conversation.

"Kari, someone is here for you." Alana said sweetly, stepping out onto the patio.

Unsure what she meant and since Kari never had visitors except for Ivar, she finally turned around. Only to be met with the view of Hvitserk leaning against the doorframe, a smirk on his lips. Standing there looking quite handsome in a dark navy business suit with a white undershirt, sans tie. Even his hair was nicely pleated back, making him look very professional and attractive.

"What are you doing here?" She asked in surprise, wondering if he just got off work.

Pushing off the doorframe, he meandered past Alana to approach Kari's side. "I came to check on you." He answered easily then scooped her up like she weighed nothing, making her squeal, and casually resettled them on the couch. Now he sat where she had been with her tucked against his side and his arm behind her. She also noticed how he purposefully put himself between her and Erik but chose not to comment on that.

"Ivar sent you, didn't he?" She grumbled, poking Hvitserk in the chest. "I told him it wasn't necessary."

"Well, you know him." He shrugged, that teasing smirk still adorning his lips. When she tried to poke him again, he snatched her hand and held it hostage, even as she tried to tug it back. Ignoring her, he turned his attention to Erik. "Hey, man. I'm Hvitserk."

"I'm Erik. I live next door." He responded warily, eyeing up the man as if debating to be friendly or not.

"Ah." With that understanding, Hvitserk seemed to give Erik a more assessing look before peering down at Kari. "You eat dinner yet?"

"Sorta. I'm not too hungry."

Alana spoke up from leaning against the other chair. "If you're hungry we can order something, Hvitserk. It's not a big deal."

Kari's head whipped around to stare at her roommate in shock. Never had Alana played the hostess to Kari or anyone she knew. Then she really noticed the coquettish look of her roommate- the fluttering lashes, the sensual biting of her bottom lip in mock innocence, the way she casually leaned against the chair in a way to best highlight the curves of her body. Kari wanted to sigh. Of course, the only reason Alana pretended to care was to try and entice Hvitserk. An attractive man in their home, it was as if Alana could not help herself.

Apparently the flaxen-haired Lothbrok noticed her flirtatious manner also. He tipped his head, eyes blatantly tracing over her body with appreciation. Kari could see the blonde preening under Hvitserk's gaze.

"Did I fuck you?"

What confident, amorous expression on Alana's face dropped in a second. "Excuse me?"

Hvitserk waved a hand dismissively. "Sorry, you seem familiar but I can't remember…. Did you fuck one of my brothers?"

Anger transformed her face, making her rigid and lip curled back in a snarl. "Fuck you, asshole." She shrieked, then stormed back inside, slamming the door shut.

He chuckled. "Huh. I take that as a yes…. ouch!"

Kari slapped his chest. "That was extremely rude and insensitive."

"Why? Because it's the truth?"

"You can't just…. ask something like that." She turned to look at the closed door, wondering if she should go apologize to Alana and check on her. After a moment's debate, she turned away from the townhouse, figuring seeking out Alana would most likely end up with a door slammed in her face.

Hvitserk shrugged, pulling his phone out of his pocket and checking it before slipping it back in.

His nonchalance baffled Kari. Did he not care that he just humiliated her roommate? Should she make him apologize? Though she doubted he would. Finally, she settled for just muttering, "you Lothbroks are unbelievable."

"Oh, are you related to…." Erik's question trailed off. Where he once had been relaxed back in the cushioned chair, now he sat tensely, one of his hands tapping his knee repeatedly.

"Ivar? Yeah, he's my brother." Hvitserk said with a knowing smirk.

"He's, um…"

"A crazy, mad bastard? Yeah. Don't recommend getting on his bad side."

"I was going to say intense."

Hvitserk threw his head back as he laughed. Even Kari smiled at the hesitant way Erik answered. Intense was an understatement for the youngest Lothbrok. "Yeah, he's family."

Erik then motioned between Kari and Hvitserk. "So are you two…. just friends?"

Before Kari could explain, Hvitserk jumped in to answer.

"Ivar and I share her."

Immediately Kari choked on air due to his candid response. Her gaze darted to Erik in horror, seeing his jaw dropped and eyes wide as saucers. Beside her Hvitserk cackled like a hyena at both of their expressions.

"That's not…. ugh! No!" Kari tried to speak, once she could functionally breathe again, only to cover her face as her words tumbled out of her mouth inelegantly.

"Awww, come on, Kari. You know I'm teasing." The elder Lothbrok tugged her hands away from her face, which only caused her to bury her face in his shoulder. "We know Ivar doesn't share. But if you ever get tired of his cranky ass, I'll be more than willing to show you a good time."

"Oh my god." She mumbled to herself, completely mortified. The evening had been going so well, and now…. all of this. Whose grave had she accidently stepped on today?

Erik awkwardly cleared his throat as he rose to his feet. "Um, I'm going to go."

"I'm so sorry, Erik." She elbowed Hvitserk when he refused to release her hands, earning an 'oof' from him. Turning her body to give Erik her full attention, she continued, hoping this had not ruined their friendship or his night. "I know this is last minute but do you think you can give me a ride to work tomorrow? If you don't want to, that's fine, especially after all of this, I wouldn't blame you."

"No, no. I mean, sure. It's not a problem. Just, ah, text me when you're ready."

She smiled gratefully at him. "I will. Have a good night, Erik!"

"You too, Kari." He gave her his signature boyish grin. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he looked at Hvitserk. "Nice meeting you."

"Yeah, nice meeting you too." He said back, draping his arm once again behind Kari.

Erik gave Kari another brief smile before disappearing back inside his townhouse, the door sliding quietly shut behind him.

Hvitserk continued to stare where Erik disappeared for a long minute before muttering, "boy better watch himself."

"What are you talking about?" She sighed out, feeling the lurking sensation of a stress headache coming on.

"He wants to fuck you. Ivar won't like that."

"What is with…. No. I'm ignoring all of that." She pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes. "Ugh, my evening was going so well until an hour ago."

"What happened? That guy showed up to bother you? Want me to tell him to lay off?" His questions came out in rapid-fire, concern infused in his voice.

"No, Erik is fine. It's …. it's nothing like that."

"So, what happened?"

"Nothing important. Have you heard from Ivar?"

He raised a brow at her dismissal but changed the subject. "Yeah, looks like he got what he needed so he'll be back tomorrow morning."

"Oh good."

"Hmmm…. which means he'll want to take you out tomorrow."

"He bought me some dresses." She softly confessed, fiddling with her diamond stud earring.

"I'd recommend wearing one of those."

She swatted at him, only to mirror the easy grin on his face. After a moment, she asked, "I just…. is it weird for him to do that?"

"What?"

"Buy me stuff."

"Does it bother you?"

"I don't know."

"If you want my advice, I'd say to let him." He lifted a finger to silence her protest. Her mouth snapped shut at his pointed look. Once he was sure she would not interrupt him, he spoke. "Ivar has never been good with…. verbally expressing affection, something I am sure he learned from our father. So he buys gifts, something he can touch and control. If he's buying you gifts, not out of obligation but because he wants to spoil you, then you mean a lot to him."

She pondered his words and how she felt about them. Never did she want Ivar to feel taken advantage of by her, especially in regards to his money. She would rather tear her own heart out than make him feel used again. It grated slightly how freely he wasted money on her. The dresses were lovely, something she could only dream of having with her current salary. But she worked hard for her life, to be independent. Even whenever they went out to eat together, he never let her pay for her own meal. She had given up that fight already but this…. It felt different. Yet what Hvitserk said slunk back to the forefront of her mind. If this was his way of showing affection, of letting her know he cared about her, would it do more damage to refuse his gift?

"How did you become so insightful into Ivar?" She teased, deciding to think about this more later.

He laughed, flicking her ear with the hand he still had behind her. "Out of necessity. I don't think anyone can fully understand him, not even himself."

"He's complex." She agreed.

"That's a nice way of putting it." He tipped his head to the side to meet her gaze. "Now, tell me what happened earlier."

"You're not going to let this go, are you?"

"Ivar told me to check on you. If I left you trying to hide tears and he found out, he'd probably break my hands or legs, not sure how particular he would be."

Biting her bottom lip, she debated blowing him off again. It was not his problem, she could deal with her own issues. But there was something about Hvitserk that made her feel comfortable around him. Even though he was under no obligation, he seemed to actually care about her.

Finally, she gave in with a sigh, laying her head against his shoulder. "Alana said…. Um, this townhouse belongs to her uncle. Him and his family moved into a bigger home and instead of selling this place decided to rent it out for a little extra cash. The rent is minimal, since he isn't renting to really make a profit. It's honestly the only way I've been able to afford being here. Well, Alana told me earlier that he is having to increase our rent. She didn't really tell me why but now it's going to be an extra 300 a month…. and I don't have that. So unless I want to find somewhere new to live, it kind of looks like I need to get a second job."

He waited a moment before flatly stating, "have Ivar pay the extra. Fuck, he'd probably pay your whole rent if you asked him too."

"No! I don't want that!" She sat up so fast, it was a miracle she did not fall off the couch. Her eyes turned to the brother beside her, wide and pleading. "Please don't tell him, Hvitty! I don't want him thinking I'm using him for his money. I…. I need to do this on my own somehow. I'll figure it out, honestly. I just wasn't expecting this to happen, that's all."

"You really don't care about our money, do you?"

"No." It broke her heart a little at the shock in his questioning tone. Did any of them ever expect someone to care about them without the influence of their money?

He stared off into the distance before looking back at her with a solemn expression. "I'll make you a deal. I won't say anything to Ivar about this, but if you are struggling, even if it's just one month's payment, you come to me and I'll help until you get your head above water again, got it?"

"Why would you want to help me?" She quietly asked, meeting his gaze.

He smirked. "I like you. You're genuine. Plus, you're also great for Ivar. I'd like you to stick around and if this is one way to help with that, it's an easy solution." He narrowed his eyes at her as she started to protest again. "Don't fight me on this."

"You Lothbroks are unbelievable. Fine." She laid her head back on his shoulder. "Thank you, Hvitserk…. and thanks for coming to check on me."

"Anytime. You've got my number. Just cause you're Ivar's woman doesn't mean we can't be friends. But my offer still stands, if you get sick of him, I'll be the first to snatch you up."

She laughed, heart feeling lighter than it had all afternoon. "Stop. I'm not Ivar's woman."

"You keep telling yourself that."

They sat quietly for a few minutes, watching the sky change colors.

"Mmmm…."

"What?" She looked up at him.

He peeked down at her with a shit-eating grin. "I still can't remember if I fucked your roommate or not."

"Gods, Hvitserk!"

*****

Before she fell asleep that night, she checked her phone one last time. A jolt of elation shot through her when she saw an unread text from Ivar. Her fingers fumbled with how quickly she tried to unlock her phone to read the text.

Ivar: good nite, kitten. C u 2morrow.

A silly smile on her face, she replied.

Kari: sweet dreams, Ivar.

After that, she plugged in her phone and curled up under her covers. Relief and excitement bled into her veins, allowing her to drift off to sleep with thoughts of the dark-haired Lothbrok coming home to her.

#vikings #MODERN VIKINGS #vikings ivar #vikings fanfiction #vikings fandom #ivar the boneless #ivar ragnarsson #ivar lothbrok #modern ivar #ivar x oc #ivar x ofc #modern!ivar x oc #modern!ivar #ivar's heathen army #Hvitserk #Hvitserk Ragnarsson #hvitserk lothbrok #to call forth love #mzwrites

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runningdownthatroad · 3 years ago

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I just have to get this off my chest after seeing some very disturbing posts about 9/11 floating around on my dash as well as some truly crude commentary. A lot probably won't agree with my sentiments but I feel like this needs to be said.

I've seen a lot of things on Tumblr in the past that maybe I consider to be in poor taste or don't agree with but I usually just scroll past, sometimes block for curating sake, but today is the first time I truly was shell-shocked. To see the memes and blasé jokes people are making about this day are just absolutely horrific and appalling.

I get that a lot of people on this site now may not remember what happened that day and only learned second hand through school or media or other people telling them. I get that a lot occurred after this that wasn't right which we definitely should be learning from. I also get that there is a lot of anti-American and anti-white sentiments going around currently, especially on this site.

But here's the thing:

Not only Americans died that day. Not only white people died that day. That's the thing about terrorists and what these hijackers did: they don't care about your skin color, your culture, your religious preference, your sexual orientation, your gender orientation, your age, your economic status, your personality, whether you support them or not, your political persuasion, your job, or any of it. Everyone is fair game to them. For crying out loud, look at what the Afghani people are currently going through and how the Taliban are treating their own country's people, women especially. If you think this is bad (which it truly is), have you seen how things went under their rule before 9/11 even happened? Do you know their terrifyingly violent and brutal history? Women had acid thrown in their faces if they didn't wear a full hijab. People were mutilated or executed if they didn't fall in line with the law of the Taliban. And this doesn't even begin to go into Al-Qaeda or Isis. But I'm not here to talk about that or delve into that topic too much.

My point in mentioning all of this is that white Americans weren't the only ones that were killed that day. People of all faiths, of all colors, of different countries, died that day, too. And the unity that is consistently discussed every 9/11 anniversary is in regards to us being aware of that fact, us mourning all of their losses together, and the collective desire to come together and help once the planes hit and after the towers collapsed.

So when people say "why am I supposed to cry over white Americans getting killed that day" think about that. Not only white Americans died that day. And regardless of their color, their nationality, their culture, their religion, etc. anyone dying is always sad. Whether it be a jetliner being used as a weapon that crashed into their floor or someone dying of cancer or someone being killed in a mudslide or someone dying in a car accident -- it is always sad. And empathy should always be shown in response, even if it doesn't impact you personally. Let's not forget these people have loved ones that got left behind, that are still here.

So when people say "if something knocks into a cow and knocks it over, I'm not expected to care, but if something knocks into a building and knocks it over, suddenly I'm supposed to care?" think about that. People aren't grieving two large pieces of steel architecture. People aren't saying "always remember those two towers". The WTC Towers were a symbol (yes, for American wealth, I get it) but became so much more of a multi-faceted powerful symbol after 9/11. The towers represent a way of life before 9/11 happened, but more importantly they represent the people lost that day, who were in the towers when they collapsed. For all of the first responders who were stuck on those floors still trying to help evacuate people to safety when the buildings finally gave. The two footprints and two blue lights aren't a symbol of American wealth or a naivete and simpler way of life pre-9/11 - they are a symbol of memorialization for that day. The Freedom Tower was erected to show that despite the loss of that day, we stood united (even if there seems to be more and more division these days). It's a message to the world that yes, destruction and death happened that day in NYC, but so did rebuilding and life carrying on. It's a symbol of strength, resilience, and unity - something that was everywhere you looked days after this event occurred. The two towers (aka NYC) may have gotten knocked down but the city got back up. They weren't kept down - that's the point of the Freedom Tower.

When people say "I don't understand, what is it that I shouldn't be forgetting since I can't remember it anyway" here is what we all should be remembering despite our age or our connection (or lack thereof) with this event:

2,997 innocent civilians died that day. Among them were 343 firefighters, 37 police officers, 23 Port Authority police officers, 8 EMS workers, and 4 other first responders. Also among them were 246 people on the four planes that crashed.

The passengers of United Flight 93 made a choice to fight back against the hijackers and saved lives that day by sacrificing their own.

Many children lost parents. Many parents lost children. Many brothers lost sisters, and many sisters lost brothers. Many spouses lost their significant others. Many lost friends, family, and loved ones.

For those who want a better connection to this day who didn't experience it and/or don't remember it, and for those others who are seriously lacking in empathy: yes, it was a highly publicized event due to the hundreds of cameras (including media outlets) watching that day, but if the horrific images aren't enough to garner some of your empathy, then there are plenty of other resources at your disposal. Documentaries like 9/11 by James Hanlon and the Naudet brothers, 102 Minutes That Changed America (which shows you not only all of the first-hand eyewitness accounts that day but also lets you hear 911 calls, radio transmissions between firefighters, and people's reactions to the event and each other who were there), 9/11 Firefighters (on Discovery Plus) and even more recently, 9/11: The Turning Point (on Netflix) which provides a 360 degree view of the events that led up to 9/11, 9/11 itself, and what came after, displaying all different viewpoints. You can read the 9/11 Commission Report or there are several books and memoirs out there like Wake-Up Call by Kristen Breitweiser, or even historical accounts in books, newspaper articles, and online. But most importantly, listen to people's stories. The ones who were there, the ones who saw it happen, the ones who ran in to help, the ones who lost loved ones. That is the most important part and the most powerful. On Hulu, ABC News ran segments of 9/11 Twenty Years Later, "Women Of Resilience" being especially powerful. It's hard not to feel a human connection to these stories or any kind of empathy.

For those who are making these jokes and memes, if you like shows like 9-1-1 and Chicago Fire, etc, imagine those first responder characters rushing into those buildings to save lives and losing theirs in the process. If you don't remember 9/11 or feel any connection or empathy, imagine hundreds of Bucks or Eddies or Bobbys or Hens or Chimneys dying that day as they worked to save so many. Sorry to be so blunt because I love those characters too, but do you get a little bit of the connection now? Do you feel any empathy? I'm not trying to equate real life heroes and sheroes with fictional characters of course, but if it helps you to understand a little better in some way, well...I'm throwing it out there.

I myself lived in the Tri-State area at the time of the attacks. I remember seeing the second plane seconds before it crashed into the second building. I remember the devastation I felt watching the first tower collapse knowing that a loved one was most likely inside and how hard I cried thinking he was dead. (thankfully, he had been late to work that day and he got out of the area before the towers came down) I remember the relief and gratefulness we all felt hearing from him to assure us that he was alive when he finally was able to get to a phone, stating he was covered in dust and ash from the buildings. I remember the panic and fear we all felt, thinking the world was ending and we were all going to die, that this was it, this was World War III, after it was confirmed that the Pentagon had also been hit and there was also a downed plane in Pennsylvania. I remember the grief another loved one suffered because she lost her entire floor (she had been out sick that day) and every single one of her co-workers. I remember the race to pick up children from school and get them home as soon as possible. I remember the rage that coursed through us seeing the footage of some people in certain countries celebrating the attacks in the streets, enjoying the deaths of so many Americans, a couple of these countries who lost citizens themselves in these attacks. I remember the camping out in front of the televisions night after night for a week straight afterwards, watching the news 24/7, worrying that there might be more attacks. I remember the feeling of sheer terror anytime a plane was heard overhead or seen appearing low enough in the sky that you could practically make out which airline it was for months afterwards. I remember seeing the lights the first time they were lit from our home. I remember feeling pure fear not only for what happened that day but also what came afterwards (not yet understanding that these weren't practitioners of Islam that did this but radical extremists who had literally hijacked the religion). I remember seeing the devastation at Ground Zero through a tear in the fabric over a fence as we walked through the city months afterwards. I remember not wanting to fly for years. I remember the anger I felt that our government had failed us due to political bs between agencies and countless others (which we found out especially when the 9/11 Commission Report came out) and that because of this horrific and absurd failure, thousands of innocent people had died. I remember seeing the crushed ladder truck, and the toy of the little girl who was on one of the planes at the 9/11 Memorial Museum and all of the pictures in that room that just floored me. (I also remember being pissed off that many were treating it as a selfie op where they were allowed to take pictures, completely missing the point of the museum's existence) But most of all, I remember feeling that life would never be the same for any of us ever again, and that the feeling of safety we had naively enjoyed on September 10, 2001 would never return.

But I also remember the compassion and unity we saw rising in the country after those attacks. I remember the gratitude for all of our first responders, those we lost that day and those who were still with us, actively working to recover those lost and to clear Ground Zero. I remember the feeling of collectiveness, that we all shared grief and showed support to one another in those days afterwards. I remember the fallen heroes and sheroes who ran into those buildings, who were off duty but raced from wherever they were that day to come and help. I remember The Man In the Red Bandana aka Welles Crowther (and many like him who worked to save others) who has become another important symbol of that day. I remember hearing all of the stories of people helping one another before and after the towers collapsed. I remember the good that this day represents. That while we may have seen some of the worst of humanity that day in the form of violence, death, weaponized airplanes, and devastation, we also saw the very best of humanity in the form of our first responders and people helping one another.

Look, did Islamophobia happen? Yes. Was it right? No, absolutely not. As I stated above, I myself feared the idea of the religion until I was educated by a friend of mine about the difference between the religion and extremism. This form of hijacking ideology can be seen in examples like the Westboro Baptist Church or even Hitler. Terrorists do not represent the true spirit of Islam no matter what the former tries to force people to believe. Just as the WBC is not the true spirit of Christianity, and so on and so forth. But even during the time I had feared the religion before gaining understanding and clarity, I never confronted or mistreated any practicing Muslim or Arab-American. Ever. I never posted hate or spewed vitriol against them. Just like with the current pandemic, I still cannot believe there are people out there attack Asian-Americans as if this whole thing is their fault. That's still mind boggling to me and it is absolutely 100% WRONG. It should not be happening. Same with Islamophobia. And it breaks my heart to read that many Arab-Americans and practicing Muslims still worry when this anniversary comes around that they may be attacked. It might not mean much, but I just want to say I am truly sorry for that and you have my full support. Always.

Did we go to war and was it just? Yes we did go to war. Was it just? Afghanistan? I need more information in order to have a fully-formed opinion but there are plenty who say yes and plenty who say no. Plenty who say we made things better over there (before we exited and the Taliban advanced) and plenty who say we didn't and only made it worse. I truly cannot say which assertion is correct and I think it would be narrow-minded and completely moronic (and possibly arrogant and presumptuous?) of me to speak on a subject I know so little about, one way or the other. Iraq? No, I don't think it was just and I honestly wish we could go back and do things differently.

But coming back to 9/11 and what this day means for so many, the people who died, the people who rushed headfirst into danger, the people who lost their loved ones. We saw incredible bravery, selflessness, and compassion for your fellow human that day despite what happened. We saw the strength within ourselves despite the fear and anger. We saw resilience. That is what the anniversary is meant to be a reminder of. The sacrifices, the loss, the courage, and the strength. Black, White, Gay, Straight, Christian, Muslim, Man, Woman, Young, Old -- it didn't matter. We all came together.

So regardless of whether it's the cool thing to do right now on this site (or elsewhere) to hate on America or 9/11 or white Americans or the anniversary itself on the very anniversary of these attacks, I ask that you please consider when posting these hurtful (and frankly harmful) words of hatred and vitriol such as referenced above that there are people out there who lost their loved ones on 9/11, that yes some of them may be on this very site and going through the 9/11 tag, and that some of them may have even lost a loved one in either war and are again on this site reading your words. Regardless of what you think or feel, please consider them and tag appropriately if you're going to post. Please consider that some of these people are currently losing their loved ones due to 9/11-related illnesses because of the cleanup at Ground Zero. Please consider that there are children who lost a parent or loved one, or who were orphaned that day (yes, they exist, we had some in our school district) who are also on this site reading your words. Basically, please just consider and be considerate. Please stop spreading hatred on a day that happened due to hatred; please stop perpetuating that cycle.

Like Martin Luther King Jr. said, "Darkness cannot drive out darkness, only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate, only love can do that."

TLDR: Love and light, my friends. Love and light. ✌️❤️

#9/11 #never forget #remember 9/11 #9/11 isnt a joke or a meme

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1dfangirls35 · 4 years ago

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The Language of Your Soul

An enemies to lovers Ballet AU in 5 Acts

Masterlist

Act I

A/N:

First of all, thank you so much to @booksncoffee for the absolutely gorgeous banner!

I am so excited to share this story with you all! Inspired in part by a night rewatching Center Stage on Netflix and from years of ballet classes, I hope this AU brings a new twist on Harry fics (and maybe even helps you gain a new appreciation for the world of ballet). Please note, while I have used my own 10+ years of classical ballet training in addition to research on this topic to hopefully make this as realistic as possible, this is still a work of fiction- and some details may have been changed to better fit the constraints of the story. The companies mentioned in this fic are real, however this story and its characters are entirely works of fiction. On a more personal note, while I have chosen to publish this story now and believe I will be able to maintain weekly updates to its entirety, I am preparing to take my boards in less than four weeks. Should I not update as scheduled- please be patient and know that an update is only a few weeks away! :) Thank you so much for reading!

Warnings: This story will contain language, mentions of emotional abuse from a parent and eating disorders. Please read at your own discretion.

Ten Weeks to Opening Night

Albert Einstein once said, "dancers are the athletes of God." Giselle Mason certainly doesn't feel like pne of God's athletes at the moment. Not with the way her muscles are screaming with every movement that she makes as she stretches before class, not with the way her right hip cracks as she lifts her leg onto the bar, and certainly not with the way her feet sting as she tapes up yet another blister on her toe before shoving her foot into her pointe shoes for another day full of torture.

Giselle stands, sticking one last bobby pin into the bun of her nearly ebony hair and finding her spot at the front of the barre in the center of the studio. She grasps the wooden cylinder with her left hand before releasing her body in a forward bend, taking a deep breath in and then a deep breath out. There is a familiar ache in her hamstrings as she begins to stretch, which loosens ever so slightly with every breath.

And so begins her daily morning routine in the studio. Fifteen minutes of stretching before company class begins. Relaxing each hamstring, hip flexor and spinal muscle until a sense of calm washes over her body. Letting her mind drift into a thoughtless focus, preparing itself for the waves of choreography that would be coming in minutes. Typically, this time is quiet; the only melody present the rhythmic breathing of company members preparing for class. But today, the studio seems to be filled with an underlying buzz. And Giselle doesn't have the slightest idea why.

"I heard he slept with the artistic director's wife, so they kicked him out of the Royal," she hears one of the new corps de ballet members murmur.

"I mean have you seen him, I don't blame her for getting her hands on a piece of him," another girl giggles.

"Did you hear, G?" Caleb, Giselle's friend, whispers as he slides into a spot on the barre behind her, adjusting the black bandana keeping his signature black curls in place across his forehead.

"Hear what?" Giselle asks, removing her leg from the bar before reaching down to adjust the black leg warmer that had fallen down her calf.

"They've hired Harry Styles- you know from the Royal," Caleb adds as if Giselle hasn't heard of Harry Styles. Everyone who was anyone in the ballet world had heard of Harry Styles. A good chunk of the non-ballet world might even be able to point him out as that 'sexy male ballet dancer' from the Sports Illustrated nude edition.

Harry Styles was a rare kind of natural talent. The type of person that was put on this earth to dance ballet. His talent had landed him the honor of being the youngest person to be named a principal in the history of the Royal Ballet. And if the rumors were true, that talent had also landed him the reputation of one of the ballet world's most arrogant. Giselle had heard several stories about how the male dancer had been a terror to work with- demanding, rude, uncooperative. Giselle didn't doubt it- people of that skill and fame rarely developed without some sense of entitlement.

"Why would we hire Harry Styles, we've already got Viktor?" Giselle questions. This isn't the first time a rumor has circulated through the American Ballet Theatre company, and it certainly won't be the last time.

"Rumor is they want Viktor to retire," Caleb shrugged before stepping back to his place behind Giselle as Mistress Ivanova claps to gain the class's attention.

Giselle couldn't believe the rumors. Viktor Dmitri retiring from ABT? He was practically the face of the company. The man had been dancing for the American Ballet Theatre for over a decade. He'd been the principal ever since Giselle had joined the company as a corps de ballet member five years ago.

Giselle knew that retirement came early for a ballet dancer. Her own mother, the famous Natalia Korsakova, had retired at the age of 33 after a knee injury. Viktor had just turned 35, but he'd shown no signs of slowing down. She refused to believe that he was calling it quits. Or to believe that the board would be stupid enough to bring in someone with Harry Styles's toxic reputation into the company.

She shoves the thought aside. Viktor is in his usual place at the back of the studio and Harry Styles is nowhere to be seen. This was simply another piece of gossip threatening to distract everyone from the Swan Lake auditions tomorrow afternoon, and Giselle won't lose her focus. The auditions are too important.

Giselle Mason has dreamed of playing the role of Odette/Odile ever since she first watched her mother on stage at the age of four. It was one of her earliest memories of the theater- her mother twirling about in a bright white tutu that at that time Giselle could only dream of wearing. In fact, Giselle wasn't sure there had ever been a moment where her dream hadn't been to be a principal dancer at ABT, like her mother. She'd been in ballet shoes from the second she could walk, wore a leotard and tights more often than she'd worn pajamas, and didn't recognize herself in the mirror if her hair wasn't pulled back into a bun. She'd ate, slept and breathed the art form. But she supposed that all came with having a prima ballerina as a mother.

Natalia Korsakova was a ballet sensation. "One of the greatest to have ever danced," according to the New York Times at the time of her retirement. The world had come to watch her dance and she'd traveled it performing: Russia, Australia, London, Paris. You name the location and Natalia Korsakova had danced there.

When Giselle was growing up, she was constantly told how lucky she was to have Natalia as a mother. To have seen the shows she's seen, to have met ballet royalty, to have traveled the world. But Giselle never felt lucky. Not when she was the accident that put her mother's career on hold for almost a year. Not when her mother was gone for months at a time performing, missing recitals, parent days and school concerts. And certainly not when an injury forced her mother into retirement, shifting her focus from her own artistic talents to turning her daughter into her next protegee.

Much to her mother's dismay, Giselle was not the younger version of her mother. She was good, great even, but she was no sensation. Giselle made soloist in her fourth year at ABT, which was a feat all on its own, unless you compared it to her mother's two. Giselle lacked the raw, natural talent that her mother possessed. Instead of her mother's high arches, she had her father's averagely flat feet. Instead of her mother's uncanny ability to match the music, Giselle had spent hours counting eights in her head to get down a rhythm. Instead of looking effortless the first time she ran through a routine, Giselle spent hours in the studio after rehearsal, running through the choreography until it wasn't possible for her to get it wrong. Giselle had gotten to where she was because of her hard work, not her natural talent- something her mother would never let her forget. To Natalia Korsakova, Giselle would never measure up.

The Swan Lake auditions are Giselle's first real shot at landing a lead, especially with principal dancer Anna Elliot out with a back injury for the foreseeable future. Giselle wants this role more than anything. To prove to herself that she is capable of following in her mother's footsteps. And to prove to her mother that she is just as capable a dancer as she. For once in her life, she wants to hear her mother say not that she'd lost her spot or forgot to point her toes, but that she was proud of Giselle. Four words- that's all Giselle really wants.

"And will start first position, demi, demi, grand, demi and port de bra. Repeat in 2nd, 4th and 5th and then balance in fifth position arms in fifth," Mistress Ivanova barks, before gesturing to the pianist to begin.

Giselle focuses on her movements as the music begins. She tightens her core, elongates her neck and reaches her fingertips to the edges of her silhouette. Her legs quiver slightly as she bends her knees into the first grand plié, her mind focusing on maintaining her turnout.

"Relax that face Giselle," Mistress Ivanova corrects, as she makes her way around the room. "I don't want to see that this is work."

Giselle takes another deep breath, this time releasing her lips from their concentrated place and focusing on her breath. She lets the downtown Manhattan studio disappear from the background. Gone is the distant honking of impatient taxi drivers maneuvering their way through the New York City traffic. Gone is the light shining in from the full-length windows looking out at the city skyline- well what you could see of the skyline behind the crumbly brick building neighboring the school. There was nothing but the dancer, the barre and the music flowing gently through her veins.

"Beautiful lines Teagan, thank you," Giselle hears Mistress Ivanova say from across the room and she fights the urge to roll her eyes. Giselle has known Teagan Davidson since she was fourteen years old, when Teagan had moved from California to New York to join the ABT school. Over the course of a decade of competing for roles, partners and teacher's praises, the two had developed quite a rivalry. To Giselle, there was almost no better feeling than snagging a role that she knew Teagan also had her eyes on.

Giselle uses Teagan's praise as motivation to work harder, feeling the burn in her inner thighs as she pushes further into her grand plié in second. The role of Odette/Odile was hers, Teagan would have to settle for understudy.

The class is in the middle of their balance, Giselle's focus locked in on a spot just at the edge of the window at the rear of the studio when a loud bang reverberates through the room. Dancers drop their balance and turn their heads, looking to see who has caused such a commotion with their entrance.

"Mr. Styles, you're late," Mistress Ivanova snaps.

He is taller than Giselle imagined, and even from this distance she can see the definition in his arms through the black tank top that clings to his body. His hair is slightly disheveled, curling at the top. His face plastered into some cheeky grin, dimples present on both cheeks, like he knows exactly what he's doing, interrupting class like this. Almost like he's enjoying the attention. He throws his black messenger bag to the side before grabbing his ballet shoes and scurrying over to an open spot at the barre near the front of the studio.

"My apologies," he replies in a thick British accent. His tone sounds anything but apologetic.

"Damn, he's even better-looking in person than he is in magazines," Caleb mutters under his breath, eliciting an eye roll from Giselle.

"Well, I suppose after that entrance," Mistress Ivanova sighs, stepping to the front of the class. "Now is as good of time as any to announce that Mr. Styles will be joining our company as a principal dancer."

Gasps fill the room, and Giselle turns her head to look at Viktor, whose face is stoic after Harry's entrance. A low chatter fills the studio, everyone trying to figure out exactly what is going on. Would he get the lead in Swan Lake? Would he be understudying Viktor?

"Silence!" Mistress Ivanova shouts. "This chatter can wait until after class is over!" She turns to face Harry, her lips turned into a stern frown. "If you'll find a place at the barre Mr. Styles, we will continue our class."

Giselle watches as he slides into a spot at the front of the room, shooting a grin at the young company member behind him. Giselle rolls her eyes, returning her focus to the mirror in front of her. Two minutes with the company and she was sure Harry Styles was exactly who she thought he would be.

Giselle tries to forget Harry Styles is in class with them. Instead she focuses on her breathing, her turnout, the rhythm that comes from the pianist in the corner of the room. She watches the early morning New York City sunrise reflect off of the mirrors, leaving little spots of sunlight over the gray Marley floor. Everyone else in the company could focus on Harry Styles all they want, but she is only focusing on one thing- and that is landing the role of her dreams tomorrow.

But Harry Styles wasn't the type of person whose presence could be forgotten so easily.

********

Harry Styles isn't scared of a little attention. In fact, he typically thrives on it. That's why he is a performer after all. To Harry, there is no better feeling than knowing all eyes are upon you, that you are the center of attention, the focus of the room. Maybe that is a prideful and egotistical thing to say, but it is true. Everyone wants to feel important, valued, admired- and anyone who says otherwise is a liar.

But the attention Harry has been getting since he walked into the American Ballet Theatre studio a little over twelve hours ago has not been the type of attention he necessarily sought out. He knew there would be rumors, leaving the only company he had ever been a part of during his dance career was sure to draw up the best of them, but something about this felt different. It was the whispers. The stares. The way some members of the room were staring at Harry as if he was a god and a few wouldn't dare look in his direction.

Harry doesn't know what's come over him- this wavering self-confidence. Maybe it's this new place. This new country. Or maybe it's the fact that in the words of his agent, if he "doesn't get his act together" he will never dance at this level again. And if he's not dancing on the world's biggest stages, well, Harry might as well not be dancing at all.

Harry grabs his phone from the side pocket of his black messenger bag, connecting it to the Bluetooth speaker he found in the corner of the studio and presses play on his hip hop playlist. He needs something to drown out his thoughts, and classical music just doesn't cut it. As the beat begins to fill the studio, Harry lets the music take over his body and begins to dance.

Giselle tries to focus on her music, but there's the noise of a pounding bass in the background interfering with concentration. She's always the only one at the studio this late at night- that's why she comes- to be alone and without distractions.

She tries to ignore it, focusing on the one and two of the music as she fouettés. One and two, three and four, five and... a boom from somewhere in the building breaks her concentration and she falls out of her turn, letting out a groan. This could not be happening to her the night before auditions, and if she found out that Teagan was here trying to interfere with her practice...

Giselle makes her way down the hall, guided by the incessant bass that sounds like it belongs in the backseat of a teenager's car and not one of the most prestigious ballet studios in the world. When she turns the corner to enter the studio, it's not Teagan she sees but Harry Styles.

But he's not dancing. He's laying on the floor, wearing nothing but a pair of black athletic shorts that show off the god-like definition of his thighs. His signature butterfly tattoo stands out on the middle of his chest, beads of sweat dripping towards the center of his stomach, the bass vibrating the mirrors around him. He doesn't notice her at first. How could he with the music so loud?

"Excuse me," Giselle says loudly in an effort to get his attention. His body doesn't even flinch.

"Excuse me!" she yells this time.

Harry looks up. In the corner of the studio, towards the door stands a girl. Her almost black hair is pulled tightly back into a bun. Her thin arms are crossed like she's about to lecture him, and her lips are held in a tight line that looks anything but happy. The corners of Harry's mouth curve upwards in a grin, entertained by the fury that was seeming to come from her tiny body.

She taps her foot impatiently, like she's waiting for something. Harry realizes that she is- she's waiting for him to turn off his music.

He sighs, reaching over to his phone beside him and sliding one sweaty finger across the screen to bring the rhythm to a halt.

"Yes?" he asks expectantly, not bothering to move his body from his reclining position.

"Other people in this studio are trying to practice, you know. It's kinda hard to do that with this," she gestures into the air, as if trying to find an appropriate adjective to describe the torture that had been gracing her ears over the past half hour.

"Not a fan of my music?" Harry smirked.

"I'm not a fan of someone disrupting my rehearsal." Giselle spit back.

"Rehearsal? It's bloody 11pm."

"I know what time it is, and like I said, your music is interfering with my ability to practice." Giselle stares Harry right in the eyes. He doesn't intimidate her, and she's not going to back down until he agrees to turn down his music.

"Wasn't aware you were the owner of this studio," Harry taunts.

"I could say the same about you." Giselle moves her hands to her hips. Just agree to turn off the damn music, she thinks to herself, even though she knows at this point, it's not worth the time it will take to warm back up to continue practicing.

Harry sits up, grabbing a blue towel from inside his bag and wiping the sweat that remains off his forehead. "Fine, music's off. Continue your rehearsal. I'm too jet lagged for this shit," he stands, wrapping the towel around his neck.

"Thanks," Giselle says under her breath, before making her way back to her studio, where she knew she would be gathering her own belongings.

Harry groans, grabbing his bag from the floor and sliding it over his shoulder. You could travel halfway across the world and still run into the same entitled ballet brats who thought they ran the place. It's those type of people, company members and otherwise, that were precisely the reason he had left the Royal. Well, not that he had necessarily had a say in that scenario, but they had been the cause of all of his problems.

You just have to dance, Harry, he tries to tell himself. But Harry knows that as much as he tries, there's a lot more too it than that.

**********

“Gi!" Caleb exclaims, bounding down the hallway towards her without concern for anyone in his way. "Cast list is up."

Giselle gulps. She isn't sure that she is ready for this. The look of disappointment on her mother's face if she doesn't land the part. The list of corrections that her mother has come up with from watching Giselle's audition. "Now you see there, you've lost your center. You're never going to make that triple if you don't hold your center Giselle." The reminder that "you only have so many opportunities to prove your worth, before they move onto the younger, better version of you." It didn't matter to her mother if Giselle was the youngest soloist at ABT by five years. It didn't matter if nearly every other soloist had previously understudied for the role. Everything but a lead was a disappointment to Natalia Korsakova.

"C'mon," Caleb exclaims, and before Giselle has a moment to collect herself she's being pulled down the hallway by her arm.

And there it is. The thin, white piece of paper that holds the fate of her next ten weeks in its hands. When she looks at it at first, she thinks she must be dreaming. Because her name has never been on that spot on the list before. Not since she officially joined the company five years ago.

Odette/Odile- Giselle Mason

Sigfried - Harry Styles

She feels frozen. Like she's in a dream and she's paralyzed. It's what she's always wanted-this role and yet, suddenly it feels like a whole lot of pressure.

"You did it Gi," Caleb exclaims, lifting her up and spinning her around before Giselle even has a moment to look any further down the list. Giselle laughs, giddy with excitement. "New York will have never seen a more beautiful Odette."

Giselle rolls her eyes at his comment. Caleb, her friend since joining the American Ballet School at the age of six and partner for many years had always been her biggest cheerleader. In a way, he made up for what she didn't have in her mother.

"And you Caleb?" Giselle asks, realizing in her excitement that she had forgotten that her best friend also had a role in the this ballet.

"You're looking at the newest Benno," Caleb says with a grin. Giselle often wondered what it would be like to be like Caleb. To be happy with any role. To not care about his place in the company. To simply want to dance. Caleb had always been like that- relaxed, calm- the antithesis to Giselle who was always high strung and anxious. Perhaps that's why they'd always been such good friends, because they balanced each other perfectly. Giselle pushed Caleb when he needed some extra motivation and Caleb- albeit not always successful- tried his best to keep Giselle out of her own head.

Giselle watches as Teagan makes her way over to the board, her long black hair swinging from the ponytail at the crown of her head. She grins in slight satisfaction as she sees Teagan's face turn into a frown. Giselle turns and gives Caleb her best, "what did she get?" eyes. He exaggeratedly mouths, "UNDERSTUDY".

As if sensing that she is the topic of conversation, Teagan looks over at the two. "Congrats Giselle," she says, her face moving in a way that makes it seem like the words taste disgusting leaving her mouth.

"You as well," Giselle responds, to which Teagan only scoffs and storms off.

"You know she's going to make your life living hell as your understudy don't you?" Caleb said with a laugh.

"Ugh, I know," Giselle groaned.

"It will be worth it though. You are going to be dancing the role you've always dreamed of." Giselle smiled. "Plus," Caleb begins, leaning down so his mouth is next to Giselle's ear. "You get to dance with the greatest male dancer of our generation. Think of all the hours you're gonna get to spend looking at that GORGEOUS body."

Giselle groans. Her perfect moment temporarily ruined by the realization that she would have to dance with Harry Styles. Sure, he may be talented, a great dancer, and likely a great partner. But his entrance yesterday and their encounter last night told her everything she needed to know about Harry Styles. And she was sure that working with him would be anything but easy.

"That GORGEOUS body," Giselle imitates Caleb with an exaggeration of the word, "Doesn't make up for the fact that the guy's an asshole."

"Okay, okay, point taken. Now can we go get some lunch?"

Giselle nods, but she already knows she's not hungry. Instead, all she can think about is how she's going to get through the next ten weeks of rehearsals with a man she already loathes.

**********

Giselle slides into the rehearsal studio with extra joy in her step later that afternoon. She's so on Cloud 9 that she doesn't even realize Harry standing at the barre doing pliés as she hums the opening notes of Swan Lake aloud.

"Sorry didn't know anyone else was in here already," she apologizes quickly, standing and stretching out her feet.

Harry looks at her, his face hard and eyes sharp. If he recognized her as the girl who interrupted his jam session last night his face didn't show it. "And who are you?" Harry asks, his voice laced with condescendence.

"Odette," Giselle smiles, the words feeling foreign leaving her mouth.

"Obviously," Harry scoffs, and Giselle feels her confidence waver. "Who are you?"

"Giselle Mason, soloist."

"Doesn't ring a bell," the corners of Harry's mouth turn up at his comment, like he gets satisfaction out of reminding others that they aren't the household name that he is.

Giselle wants to say something back. Something sharp and witty to show him that just because he was one of the greatest dancers in the world and she was still trying to make her way into the spotlight didn't mean that he could treat her like a nobody. She was going to be his partner after all- whether he liked it or not. But then Gregory Alexander, ABT's Artistic Director, enters the room, clapping his hands and tells them they are about to begin on the Act II Pas de Deux and Giselle doesn't have a chance to say otherwise.

"As new partners you will need to put in the time to understand each other. Build trust. Anticipate the other's movement. Portray to the audience that you are a swan and a prince in love." Gregory moves his arms in the air theatrically, as if he isn't wearing a designer suit.

"Now I understand that the ten weeks we have to prepare before our season debut isn't an ideal amount of time to form a relationship with a new partner. But in this case, it simply must do." Gregory's face turned serious, the wrinkles on his forehead more defined as he furrows his eyebrows. "I expect that the two of you will put in the time outside of your scheduled rehearsals to work on this chemistry. Anna and Viktor will also be assisting with rehearsals and my hope is that they will also be able to assist the two of you with this transition."

"Gregory," Harry interrupts, then as if realizing he'd made a mistake, he corrects himself. "Sir."

Gregory nods.

"I'm not sure what the concern is. I've danced with hundreds of partners in my career, I'm not sure how the other principal's would have much more experience than me?" Giselle thinks Harry is meaning this as a question but it comes out more like a statement.

Giselle watches as Gregory's eyes narrow again. He looked irritated, and why wouldn't he be? Harry had been here all but forty-eight hours and was already questioning the artistic director's decisions.

"That may be the case, Mr. Styles," Gregory paused. "But when the two of you step onto Metropolitan Opera House stage in ten weeks, I expect the audience to believe that you two have been dancing together for years. Have I made myself clear?"

Harry nods, this time remaining quiet.

"Now then, I'd like us to start with the Act II Pas de Deux. The very beginning- with your entrance Harry."

It's an hour into rehearsals when Giselle hears the echo of heels clicking down the wooden hallways. She doesn't even have to look up when the steps stop as they reach the studio floor. She could recognize that walk anywhere.

"Aahh, Natalia!" Gregory exclaims. "So glad you could stop by," Gregory reaches over to embrace Giselle's mother, his grey hair brushing the sides of her face as he kisses each cheek.

"Mr. Styles, I'd like to introduce you to Natalia Korsakova, former ABT principal and member of our board."

Natalia Korsakova looks as put together as always. Her dark brown hair pulled tightly into a neat French twist. Her tight black dress and coordinating pumps show off every bit of the dancer's body that she still maintained. Giselle watches as her mother's mouth curves to form a polite smile.

"A ballet legend. It's an honor to meet you Madame," Harry says offering his hand.

"The pleasure is all mine. I'm so glad you are joining us here at ABT. And what a joy it will be to watch you next to my daughter," Natalia gestures towards Giselle, with a polite smile plastered on her face that was generally reserved for generous donors and patrons of the ballet. It is all a show. That's all Giselle's mother ever did was put on a production. She was a performer after all, how could anyone expect her life to be anything but a crowd-pleasing performance?

"Your daughter?" Harry turns to look at Giselle, raising an eyebrow. His eyes narrow, as if he's caught Giselle in a lie. As if she'd snuck her way into this position and was just hoping that someone wouldn't notice she wasn't the real deal. "Why that makes this even more special."

Giselle fights every urge to roll her eyes from across the room. It is clear that Harry Styles is every bit as much of a performer as her mother. Just minutes before he was looking at her as if he had been paired with an amateur and suddenly working with her is 'something special'?

"I'm going to watch rehearsal for a bit," Natalia announces, making her way over to a stool next to the pianist. "Carry on." The pit in the bottom of Giselle's stomach grows as her mother takes a seat next to Gregory in front of the mirror.

"Odette makes sense to me now," Harry whispers into Giselle's ear, as he slides behind her to resume practice. It takes everything in her to keep her face stoic as Harry's hands settle once again on her waist.

Rehearsal goes badly. Giselle can't seem to get her leg into the attitude position that Gregory wants, she losing her balance on her penchés, and Harry almost drops her on several promenades. Giselle says almost, because someone as experienced as Harry Styles would never let his partner hit the ground, but she should have, because she surely wasn't holding her weight quite right. And then there's the fact that Gregory pronounced that Giselle "looks at Harry as if he is the villain of the story instead of the prince she's fallen in love with".

Giselle wants to say that's because he is the villain. The villain of her story anyways, the person that is somehow going to turn her dream role into somewhat of a nightmare. Why couldn't she be dancing with Viktor? He was so patient and kind and he would never look at his partner as if she deserved to be in the audience instead of on stage with him.

After yet another failed run through of the first half of the pas de deux, Gregory announces that they are done for the day, but that he expects to see them in the studio bright and early tomorrow morning to work on their timing. Giselle's never been so thankful for a rehearsal to be over, and as she sits down to remove her pointe shoes, running her hands over her swollen feet, she watches Harry leave the studio without saying a word.

"I hope you realize how big of an opportunity this is Giselle. It's not one you should take lightly," her mother's voice startles her, as Giselle had almost forgotten she was there. Almost.

Natalia stands above Giselle, one hand on her hips and the other on her forehead, as if watching today's rehearsal had been exhausting for her. It probably was exhausting for her, keeping tally of all the things that Giselle had done wrong for the past two hours. Natalia's voice is shrill as she speaks again. "There are thousands of ballerinas around the world that could only dream of getting to dance with Harry Styles. And here you are dancing with him in his first show with ABT. That's an enormous responsibility, darling. This performance with him will set the stage for his entire career with our company. One that the board is hoping will last until his retirement."

Giselle nods. That's all she can do when her mother begins one of her lectures- nod. She thought maybe this would be the time that her mother told her congratulations. The time that her mother did what she'd watched countless other mother's do during her time as a dancer, wrap their arms around their daughter and express their pride to them. But instead, today is like any other day, and even with a lead role in an ABT production, Giselle still hasn't done enough to make her mother proud.

Giselle shoves her shoes into her bag, slinging it over her shoulder as she stands.

"And Giselle?" her mother adds, as she makes her way towards the door.

"Yes mom?"

"Might want to hit a few more cardio classes this week too, my dear. Got to make sure you are going to be an easy dancer to partner with."

And with that comment Natalia Korsakova clicks away, leaving Giselle standing in the middle of studio wondering if her biggest dream has suddenly become her biggest nightmare.

#it's here!#let me know your thoughts #writingby1dfangirls35 #harry styles #hs #harry au #ballet harry #harry styles fanfic #harry styles au #1dff #one direction fanfiction #harry fanfiction #enemies to lovers

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gay-salt-amber · 3 years ago

Text

The phone call

Here's some notices or warnings before reading!

A trans man giving birth, Seungchuchu, Trans Phichit, Haikyuu x Yuri on Ice.

Seung-gil pov-

I entered the rink, sat down my bag and took a sip out of my thermos of coffee, "Hi coach." I greeted, tired and already done with my coach for the day.

"Greetings Seung-gil, sit down we need to figure out your skating routine for the next competition."

I nodded at my coach and sat down. I sat there, listening to my coach's instructions.. Well I wasn't really listening, I couldn't bring myself to focus... Phichit, my husband, had been really sick recently. I knew that he knew why but he wouldn't tell me, while some secrets were fine, it just felt to serious to be kept a secret. But if he wants to keep that stuff to himself, then I have no wish to pry into his business.

My coach, Min-so Park, must have noticed. She gave me a light flick on the ear and raised her voice by a inch, "Pay attention." She said.

I had to restraint myself from saying something else other then sorry, "Sorry, stuff has been happening at home."

"Don't carry that onto the ice, Seung-gil."

"..Sorry.." I said, trying to sound like I was actually sorry which I wasn't.

"Alright, now how about we do this song?" She said pointing to a list of songs she had written down.

"Sure, when are we going to figure out outfits though?"

"Probably tomorrow, we need to make sure this song is good for you before we figure out costumes."

She put the list down and walked over to the music-playing setup, "Lets start practice, Seung-gil."

I nodded as I re-tied my skates and went onto the ice, ready for a tiring day of practice. I just hope Phichit is doing alright.. I'm worried, so fucking worried.

Phichit pov-

I flushed the toilet, washed the disgusting taste out of my mouth out and exited the bathroom, I took my time walking down the stairs, holding onto the handle for dear life even though my feet were fine. I still don't wanna fall. Eventually after what felt like a lifetime, I made it to the couch where I flopped and grabbed my phone. As I massaged my headache, I hit Yuuri's contact, his nickname in my phone being 'bestie' I let out a silent swear as a sting of pain came but I hit the 'call' button and sucked up the pain.

Thankfully he picked up, even though he is at practice

"Hey Phichit, did you need something?"

I let out a small fake sob, "I feel like shit.."

"Oh, is Seung-gil with you?"

"No, he wanted to stay home but his coach made him come in.."

I could tell the Japanese skater was rolling his eyes, "Have I told you how much I hate his coach?"

"Yep."

After snickering I went back to the original topic, "But I wanted to ask you what you think I've come down with. Its been a week! I have never been sick for more then 2 days and I am scared!"

Yuuri clicked his tongue, "Ok.. Tell me more, I think I have an idea.."

"Well, I have been puking a lot.."

"That happens when you're sick typically.." Now that I think about it, yeah I do puke a bunch when I rarely get sick.

"Yeah.. And you know how I hate pickles?"

"Yes?"

"I now wanna dip those in chocolate and have it for breakfast."

"Any body pain?"

"Well my stomach and hurt like a bitch and my back wants to break."

"...." Yuuri went silent.

"Uh, Yuuri? Bestie? What's wrong?"

"Don't think I'm weird for saying this alright?"

"We've been friends for like 19 years, nothing you say will make me weirded out."

"You never got a bottom surgery when you transitioned right?"

"No, I still wanted kids so I never got much done, you know, minus getting my breasts removed."

"So, I think you should go get a pregnancy test.."

My eyes went wide, "Wha?! Why?!"

"I just think that you have a lot of the symptoms that pregnant people have. I may be wrong but its better now then later, right?"

I went quiet before speaking again, "...What will Seung-gil think?"

Yuuri went out a little chuckle, "Well, if he's as good a husband as you say, he'll stay there and help you."

I chuckled along, "Yeah.. I'll talk to you later."

When I hit the end call button, I threw my phone to the other side of a coach. Upon hearing that, Seung-gil's Siberian Husky came running over and hopped on the couch to try and make me feel better by rubbing his head against my hand.

I smiled bright "Hi buddy.."

"You may be getting a human friend in a few months if Yuuri was right.." I chuckled.

This made the dogs head perk up, his tail started wagging and he went out a bork of excitement.

"I know! so exciting!" I gave him head scratches before walking to the door and grabbing my keys

I turned back to Snow, "Dads gonna go out for a bit, don't cause too much havoc while I'm gone, ok?"

After hearing another bark from the grey-white dog, I left the large apartment and started to walk down the hallway. Even when I was in the lobby and out the front door to my car, I couldn't stop opening and closing my husbands contact.. 'Save it until you actually know..' After taking a breath and by that I mean about 10 breathes, I put the keys in and drove to the store to get the test.

When I pulled into the parking lot, I unbuckled slowly and got my hat and my mask. I did everything slowly, I was just nervous.. I then thought of how lucky I would be to have a kid.. All the happy moments, seeing Seung-gil falling asleep with a baby atop his chest, and that babies adorable face.. With those ideas in my head I opened my car door and practically ran into the store.

Once I entered, I walked to the pharmacy section and after scanning the shelf like 4 times, my eyes finally landed on the pregnancy test, "Damn I must have been staring at it for like 2 minutes." I joked, I grabbed it and walked to the counter to pay, I walked back out to my car and went about 9 miles over the speed limit to get home.

Seung gil pov-

It was coming to be the middle of practice, which was when I was allowed a really quick water break before starting practice again.

"Ok Seung-gil! You can have a water break!" Coach shouted

I nodded and walked over to the bench, right when I was about to grab my water, I heard my phone ringing. When I checked the name.. It was my husband, Phichit.

"I told you to not have your phone out during practice!"

"My husbands really sick so I couldn't really NOT have it on or out." I retorted

"Just answer it."

I rolled my eyes and answered, "Hello?"

Phichit's voice on the other line was nervous, "Uh.. Hey Seung-gil.. Can you come home? Like right now?"

"Why? Are you ok?"

"We just need to talk."

"Now?" I repeated

"Yeah, sorry for interrupting your practice dear.." He sighed

"No, no! It's ok, I don't wanna be here anyway."

Phichit laughed which made my heart glow, "Alright, see you soon."

"See you soon." And with that I ended the call, grabbed my stuff and walked to the exit.

"SEUNG GIL LEE WHERE THE WORLD ARE YOU GOING?! YOU STILL HAVE PRACTICE!" My coach yelled from the rink,

My voice went back to being cold instead of sweet like when I was on the phone, "Home."

The brown haired woman started running in my direction, "Oh hell no!" But by the time she said that the door was open and I was walking to my car and quickly on the road.

--When he got home--

Once I opened the door I hear the muffled tv in the background, I kicked off my shoes at the door gave the dog some love and went to sit on the couch next to my husband.

"Welcome home.." The Thai's boy was quiet.

"So what did you wanna talk about dear? You never call me back from practice...."

"Uh.. You know how I said I was trans? How I was born a girl not a male?"

"Yes?"

Phichit stood up and walked in the direction of the bedroom, "Its best I show you, wait here.."

I nodded and waited. he came back a minute later, holding a something that looked familiar to me, but I couldn't put my finger on it. Once he sat down he handed the long stick to me,

"Guess what.. You're a dad.." His voice was nervous

I looked at the pregnancy test.

Then back to him.

"I get it if you are mad if I didn't tell you sooner that this could happen but, I have always wanted to start a family with you so, please, help me parent our child."

I couldn't even speak, I just wrapped my arms tightly around Phichit, "There is no universe where I would pass up to take care of a child with you." I breathed before continuing to speak, "I love you so much. We are going to have a happy family here, ok? I will do whatever I can to support our family."

When I finally looked up at my husband, tears were streaming down his face, I panicked, "Why are you crying?! Did I say something?!"

He laughed, wiping his small tears away, "No, you're just fine. I'm just.. happy."

I gave him a kiss on the forehead, "Are you hungry? I was thinking of ordering pizza."

"Can you get me pineapple pizza..?"

I let out a snort, "Sure."

--After ordering pizza--

Once we sat down, we happily ate, I smiled as I watched Phichit devour his pizza and his cute little face have pizza sauce get dotted on the cheeks and his chin. After he chewed he started to speak

"Hey I have a question about your coach."

I put down my pizza and looked at the cute boy, "What of her?"

"Well, I think you either need to talk to her, or get a new coach."

"I mean I would love to, but why?" I asked

"She never lets you have any holidays off or anything, no special days, no calling in before hand, no calling in sick, nothing! The only way you get out of practice is just walking out. I feel like when the kid is born, that wont be an option anymore."

I nodded my head, taking a bite from my pizza, "Yeah, you're right. I wanted to find a new coach anyway, I just needed a reason."

Phichit chuckled before gasping, "Hold on! I need to go call some people!"

I rubbed my forehead, giving a small smile, "Who are you calling?"

"Y'know, Guang-Hong, Leo and Yuuri! Imma tell them they're uncles now!"

"Alright! Don't take too long!"

A few minutes later I could hear excited gasps and congratulations coming from the kitchen

---A few months later--

Phichit pov-

I was on the phone panicking, Seung-gil couldn't be here, his coach wouldn't let him leave no matter how hard he tried so I was on the phone with Yuuri.

"Stay calm till I get there! I'll get you to the hospital Phichit."

"It fucking hurts!"

"I know just hold on!"

A few minutes later of trying to talk to keep the pain away, the door swung open with Yuuri behind it, he came over, helped me up and we got into the car.

"You're going to be a dad.. Mom? What do you wanna be called anyway?" Yuuri asked

"Whatever the child prefers."

"Do you know the gender yet?"

"No we decided to wait till he's born, which I guess is soon!" I was excited but also nervous.

"..Seung-gil will find a way to get to the hospital to see you, even if he has to jump out a window or something."

I snorted, "Victor did that didn't he?"

"I mean, yeah~"

We finally made it to the hospital and after circling the parking spot a few times, we got out and walked through the entrance.

"When I come out my life's gonna be so different.."

"Mhm! But that's a good thing!" Yuuri reminded me

"Yeah."

--About 15 minutes later--

Seung gil pov-

Once I finally got away from my coach by jumping out the window of the boys locker room and was able to maneuver my ass through the rush hour traffic, I arrived at the hospital. When I entered I instantly spotted Yuuri Katsuki, my husbands best friend and ran over to him.

"How is he?!"

"Thank god you're here."

I sat down and panted, "Yeah, my coach forced me to stay at practice, I had to crawl out through a window."

"Knew it."

"Anyway, is Phichit doing ok?"

Yuuri nodded, "Yes, they have him back there now."

"Can I not go in?"

"Ok."

I started tapping my foot from nervousness I didn't notice Yuuri get up but when I did he was holding coffee in his hand, "Here. They had a coffee cart over there, I figured you would want something to drink."

I took it from his hand, "Thanks."

"So what are you hoping for?"

"Heh, Phichit was hoping for a boy and I would be dead if I said a girl." I laughed

"Do you have a name in mind?"

"Not really, we know we want to change his last name so he can live a normal life though."

"Any ideas for that?"

"We'll figure it out. Phichit is a spur of the moment person, y'know?"

"Oh I know that too well." Yuuri took a sip of his drink before speaking again

"So, you remember when I was watching your dog at my house?"

"Yes?"

"Our dogs cuddled."

My mouth went wide, "Do you have photos?!"

"Yep!"

about 4 hours later-

"Family and friends of Phichit Lee may come in now." The doctor called

I looked at Yuuri, "You go by yourself first Seung-Gil he wants to see you more then me."

I got up and walked to the room and sat on a chair next to the hospital bed,

"Say hello to your son!" Phichit said, a smile from ear to ear on his face.

"He's adorable." I said, reaching out my pointer finger, which the little boy grabbed and held onto with his tiny hands.

"Mhm."

The child blinked a bit, "He has your eyes." I pointed out

"Just as cute too." Phichit added

"Mhm."

"So, what are we thinking for names?"

"Uhh.. I was actually thinking about it in the car."

"Oh? What did you come up with?

"I was thinking of naming him Sakusa Kiyoomi."

"That sounds good."

"Do you want to hold him?"

"Sure."

I reached my hands out and Phichit handed me my son, "I'm really a father.."

"Mhm. I love you so much."

"I love you too dear," He reached out and booped Sakusa nose

"And I love you too, Sakusa."

-16 years later-

Sakusa pov-

I was texting Atsumu, my boyfriend about practice and such.

----

'Tsumu: Hey sweet, adorable love of my life ♥♥! I have a question

Omi: Please use normal pet-names

'Tsumu: Nah

Omi: 😶😑Yes, dear?

'Tsumu: When am I gonna meet your parents? 🤔

Omi: You can come over after practice, if you want.

'Tsumu: Woah! 😲 Really?!

Omi: Sure, I don't care.

'Tsumu: Wait, aren't you at practice too?

Omi: Yeah we're taking a water break

'Tsumu: Well, I'll leave you alone! Love you! See you later tonight Omi-Omi! 😍😘💗💓

Omi: See you then, 'Tsumu <3

----

When I turned off my phone I didn't realize my cousin, Kimori, was standing right over me reading my texts.

"So, hows the married life?

"CHRIST!" I yelped

I regained my composure as the rest of the team looked over, "Great, how are you and that snake boy?" I was referring to Suguru Daishou, who was the captain of the Nohebi Academy volleyball team.

Kimori let out a gasp of betrayal, "Rude!"

"Right.."

The coach called us back onto the court, I stood up and ran back to the court with my team.

--After practice--

I sat there at the train stations coffee shop and sipped on a thing of tea while working on my laptop. I wanted to finish up school work before 'Tsumu got here, after all. While I was typing away on a writing assignment, my phone buzzed, it was one of my dads, Phichit Lee. I finished typing the paragraph, I placed a period, picked up my phone and went to answer the message.

---

Pops: Hey Kiddo👋, me and your dad will be late coming home from practice. Stop by the rink ⛸⛸ if you need anything! ♥♥

Kiyoomi: Will do. Also I will be having my boyfriend over.

Pops: Oh! 😲 Me and your dad can stay out later if you need us to😁

Kiyoomi: No, he wanted to meet you and dad.

Pops: We'll try to get home early in that case!

Kiyoomi: Alright good luck with that pair skate practice

Pops: We're gonna need it 😗

After about 15 minutes I looked out of the store and saw that Tsumu's train was pulling in, I got in and waited closer to the train for him. Once he got out I called out for him.

"'Tsumu!" I called

When I did that he ran full speed at me and wrapped his hands around my neck, with my hands wrapping around his waist.

He started placing kisses on my cheeks, "Its been so long!"

I laughed, "Its been a week."

"Same difference!"

I gave a final smile before I grabbed the fake blondes hand and led him to my car.

"So, I'm meeting your parents today?"

I nodded, "They may be late home, but yes."

We got into the car and kept talking about what was going to happen tonight,

"I'm so nervous, y'know?"

"Heh, you don't need to be, don't worry."

I then remembered something, "Also my uncle is dropping by so you'll get to meet them."

"Oo! Cool!"

I plugged my aux cord and handed the phone to 'Tsumu, "Its your turn for music this weekend dear, please don't play The Bee Movie sound track the whole way home."

"Awh! You're lucky I love you Omi!"

He put on Shinedowns new album Amaryllis, so I was happy.

"Nice song choice."

Tsumu rested my hand on top of mine which was already resting on his thigh.

"Do you want me to stop and get coffee or something? Or do you wanna head straight to my place?"

"Meh I had coffee earlier, we can head to your place."

"Oh you haven't been to my place before have you? It's always me visiting you."

"Yeah! That just makes me more excited!"

I smiled.

"Wait.. I NEED TO ASK FOR YOUR BABY PHOTOS!"

"NO!"

We finally pulled into the garage of the apartment complex and exited the car. When we entered the lobby Atsumu spoke up, "This is a really nice looking place."

"Yeah my folks make good money so we have a good sized apartment." I explained as we walked to the elevator

I hit the '8' button and waited till the doors re-opened, we exited as an elderly couple entered and walked to the apartment as the numbers went up across the doors, 801, 802, 803, 804... Finally we reached the apartment, with the silver plaque reading 810. I twisted the key and was instantly greeted by Snow and Makkachin. Makkachin was staying here just because Victor and Yuuri were in Russia and Makkachin was getting too old to travel, y'know, being 15 and all.

Atsumu instantly got down on his knees to give Snow head scratches, "Oh my god! You have dogs! Why didn't you tell me?!"

"Snow is my parents and Makkachin," I said pointing to the dogs as I mentioned them, "Is just staying here till my uncle comes to get them today."

"They're so pretty!"

"Mhm."

Me and Atsumu took off our shoes, I went to the kitchen, filled up the dogs bowls, washed my hands and then crashed on the couch.

Once Atsumu noticed my presence he laid his head on my lap "Your place is nice, Omi-Omi."

"Thanks."

"..Can I change positions so we can both be comfy?" I asked

Atsumu nodded and sat up so I could lay down, Atsumu then laid onto my chest, listening to my breathing and heart beat.

"I love you."

"I love you too."

-10 minutes later-

After we laid there and watched tv for a bit, I heard a knock on the door, "That must be my uncle." Atsumu shot up, and followed me to the door.

When I opened it, I saw my uncle, Nikiforov-Katsuki Yuuri and his husband Victor standing to his left. Once they took a step in the door Makkachin came bolting towards them

"Makkachin! My baby!" Victor called out as he lifted Makkachin into his arms.

Atsumu stood in surprise for a minute while I talked to them. Does he know that they're famous figure skaters? No, I think his twin brother Osamu and his team captain Kita are into that stuff.

"So, before you go I want you to meet someone," I started, I gestured to my boyfriend as I spoke, "This is my boyfriend, Atsumu Miya."

Yuuri smiled and shook his hand, "Its a pleasure to meet you, Atsumu."

After Victor did the same they turned to leave before Atsumu spoke up, "Wait! Can I get your autographs? My captain and brother are big figure skating fans and they would kill me if I passed this up."

Victor and Yuuri laughed and nodded, "Sure! We'd love to!"

Victor and Yuuri signed the autograph to Osamu and wrote below it, "Your brothers cool!" and the one to Kita with "The best captain ever! Kita!"

"Thank you."

"Of course! Your family now after all!"

After we said our goodbyes, Yuuri and Victor left me and my boyfriend alone again. I looked at Atsumu, grabbed his hand and we walked back over to the couch to watch tv while Snow slept on her bed near us. Atsumu kept insisting that we watch Gilmore Girls until I finally gave in and we ended up binging to season 3.

"I'm telling you! Luke is the best!"

"Aand why do you think that?"

I shrugged, "Meh Lorelai is better."

"No!"

We kept bickering like children for a few minutes before I pulled my lover in for a kiss, that managed to shut him up. But his red face was too cute to not kiss over, and over, and over again. So that's exactly what I did.

"A kiss here." I said giving a kiss on his cheek, "And a kiss for the other side," "A kiss here," "And a kiss here,"

"Omiiiiiiii~"

I laughed, stopping my kissing spree after I kissed every spot on his face, "I love you."

"I love you more, baby dearest."

I smiled, "Just call me baby or dear. Baby dearest sounds weird."

"Awh but its cute!"

Snow barked as they awoke from their nap

"See? Even snow agrees that its cute!"

I looked over at Snow with a deadpan look, "Really? I know you like my boyfriend because he gave you belly rubs, but, really?"

--When Seung-gil and Phichit got home--

I was too focused on the snoring Atsumu on my chest to hear the clicking of the front door, the removal of shoes, or the hanging of keys. It was only when I was a flash off a camera did I know that my parents saw my boyfriend laying on my lap.

My dad started rapidly typing on his phone, "Seung-gil! Get in here! This is adorable!"

The black haired Korean walked into the room, "Phichit, lets let them relax and get dinner started ok?"

"OK!" After that, Seung-gil was walking to the kitchen and Phichit speed walking to keep up.

After a few more minutes Atsumu woke up from his nap with a yawn, "Hey Omi-kun."

"Good morning dear."

I started petting his head when spoke, "Did your parents come home?"

"Mhm."

"WAIT WHAT?!"

"Shh.. I just wanted you to sleep, its fine."

"..OK."

Then I heard a gasp from the kitchen

"SEUNG-GIL! SAKUSAS BOYFRIEND IS AWAKE!"

My dads had came peaking out from the corner 2 seconds later, "Atsumu, this is my dad."

The cheerful boy sat up and shook my dads hand, "Hi, I'm Atsumu Miya."

"Im Phichit Lee."

"Hold on im gonna go get your other dad." My dad said before leaving the room to go grab his husband.

"Wait... YOU HAVE TWO DADS AND YOU DIDNT TELL ME?!"

"You never asked."

"Humph." Atsumu huffed, turning his head.

"Oh come on.. Look at me dear."

"Nu!"

"I'll let you see baby pictures of me later." I offered.

"..."

I sighed and grabbed his hand, "We'll go get fatty tuna tomorrow with Kimori and his boyfriend."

Atsumu head perked up, "Yes! I love you!"

After that, my dad came in the room with my other dad, "My name is Seung-Gil Lee." He greeted before shaking Atsumu's hand.

After that we sat down at the dinner table, with me and Atsumu on one side and my parents on the other.

"So how long have you two been together?" Phichit asked

"Since our first year of Highschool." I answered

My dads smile grew, "Wait! Are we the first ones in the family to know?!"

"Nah, Uncle Leo and Guang-Hong know."

He gasped dramatically and put a hand on his chest, "My own squad betraying me like that, so tragic~"

"Also heres a question." Atsumu started

"Yes?"

"Whos your favorite character in Gilmore Girls?"

"Luke." Seung-Gil said

This caused my dad to look at him with bewilderment, "Am I just getting betrayed tonight?! Lorelai is SO much better!"

"Nope."

After we finished eating we went to the living room and chatted.

"So what happened at practice?"

"Oh I got a story," Seung-gil started, putting his cup down.

"So you know how me and your dad are skating on the same rink as the Russian team till our rink gets redone?"

"Yes?"

"So apparently Georgi is dating that one French skater."

"Which one?"

"Jean.. Douche? Y'know that Akaashi boys dad."

That comment made Atsumu nearly spit out his drink, Phichit's dark eyes went wide, "Are you ok?!"

"Yeah, my best friends just dating Akaashi so it was just surprising that he's part French."

"Wait, I thought Oikawa was your best friend?"

"I have multiple best friends, Omi."

"Anyway, so, I heard that Kimori got a boyfriend~"

"Phichit, dear, love of my life, please don't tell me your using your sisters kids life as blackmail."

"Why wouldn't I?"

"Yeah he does." I answered

"Do you have photos?!"

"Dad, I wouldn't be your child if I didn't have blackmail."

I quickly pulled up a photo and showed it to my dads,

(Here's the photo, credit to the artist)

And with that my dad started gushing over the photo, "Awh! Thats so cute!"

"Speaking of cute, do you have Sakusa's baby photos?"

"Oh you bet I do!"

For the next half an hour they looked at baby photos.

Once Atsumu got ready to leave, he asked for a final thing, "Can I get your autographs? My captain and twin brother love figure skating and you two are some of their favorites."

They nodded and signed the papers, and with that, I gave Atsumu a kiss on the cheek and he left.

"Sooo whens the wedding?"

#Sakusa #yuri on ice #haikyuu!!#Seungchuchu #phichit chulanont #seung gil lee #Trans #Child #sakuatsu #Gilmore girls #Anime #Gay

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taechaos · 3 years ago

Note

Idea series oc sneaking Tae in the house after he had big fight with his father about something (your choice if it's smutty or fluff or angsty) with a peek of a vurberable Tae? Honestly i think he would change the topic as soon as he started it and prob with sex.

Anyway I'm really interest in their family dynamic since I remember don't know if it was in part one or two that you mention they have really religious parents? And seeing how harsh their dad is with Taehyung it have me wondering how is his relationship with the mother and ocs with both parents, despite everything the seem really distant from their kids, maybe thats why Tae and YN find comfort in each other. OC is the first real bond Tae made with someone so maybe that's the reason of his fear of being replaced and his obsession with her, and ocs mother probably don't pay that much attention to her so that's why even after the incident she still want him to be there. At this point I'm just rambling I'm sorry. And this ask is all over the place, started with a request and ended questioning characters life 💀💀. Sorry hehe.

when i read this yesterday i was literally blown away by this like hOLY shit your analysis is so in-depth at first i was like damn do my characters have more than oNE DIMENSION?? WHICH IS RLY FLATTERING BUT I THINK ITS JUST UR WORDS THAT MADE ME SOUND SMART 💀💀💀 the ending is chef's kiss tho made me bust a lung SHFJJD thank you so much for taking the time to write this its honestly so fucking amazing. hopefully u can see more of their family dynamic in this drabble :)

Rays of sunlight slither through the cracks in the blinds of the living room, allowing Taehyung's father enough light to scan the newspaper he holds in his hand, with the musical, happy chirping of mockingbirds filling in the silence. All of these beautiful signs of nature and peaceful rotation of the earth makes Taehyung tense up even more.

The moment he got back home from buying drugs, his father greeted him in monotone with a, "would you sit with me for a moment?" and he hasn't spoken since. The zipperbag in his pocket crinkles every time he shifts in his seat, making him cringe momentarily before he starts nervously fidgeting again.

This is so awkward and yet equivalent to hearing: we need to talk. God, why is he so silent?

Clearing his throat, Taehyung stands just as his father flips a page with a lick of his thumb. "I'm going to my room really quick."

"No."

"Oh." When will his step-mother return? She's his only hope as he sits down while avoiding looking at his father, whose gaze is set on the black and white printed pages.

It's only a minute later when he talks without diverting his gaze.

"Your sister is in her room, researching her major to get a headstart on a typical syllabus."

"Smart," he comments with disinterest and nibbles on his upper lip.

"Taehyung, how was your attendance in college?" he folds the newspaper and curiously peeks at his son, who is doing a poor job at hiding his nerves.

"It was alright–"

"Lying is a sin, son," his movements are aristocratic when he leans his chin on his fist. "Don't lie."

"I'm not," he stammers and his eyes flicker, "it was bad at the beginning of the year, but I fixed it."

His father pinches the bridge of nose where his frames lie. "I love your sister, Taehyung," he sighs and takes off his glasses, "I want her to do well. I've given up on you, but her? She can accomplish great things if you're not there to influence her. You're a bad influence. Are you following me?"

Taehyung nods dumbly with a racing heart before registering his words and shaking his head. "What?" he blurts. "I used to help her with her homework all the time–"

"You were home once every month."

"Just because you didn't see me doesn't mean I didn't see her," he coldly says. That's not entirely accurate, but it is true that he saw you more than he saw his parents before he started living here again. For you.

His father is taken aback, offended as he scoffs, "You avoided me and your mother, and yet have the face to stay in our home?" He stands up and passes the coffee table that was Taehyung's only barrier to hover over him with distance. "I expected so much more from you, but you can't even do the bare minimum. An adult without a stable job, respectable girlfriend, and embarrassing grades. I'm ashamed to have raised such a boy, for I can't even call you a man."

Taehyung abruptly stands but he continues, "If you can't even pay rent, go back to that landfill you came from."

"I have to pay rent to live with my family?" He's livid and his hands shake by his sides; they're taking you away from him because what? He isn't the son they wanted him to be?

"You've made it clear that the only thing keeping you here is my daughter," he blindly points at the closed door of your room, "and you will have to try much harder to see her again. Get your life together, and you can come back."

Taehyung's face is heated with anger from the injustice. "What the fuck?! This is such bullshit; you're kicking me out?"

His father frowns at his language, growling, "Taehyung! I will not let you drag her down that path with you. When you stop destroying everything you touch, I'll gladly let you live here."

Destroy? He hasn't done any harm to anyone—especially not you. He knows he's self-destructive, but it doesn't extend to his environment. If he fails, it's his failure, but his father takes it personally instead of encouraging him to do better.

The importance of reputation and success in this family enrages him; he's aware that he's not much of an affectionate person either, but a little love wouldn't hurt to witness in the household.

Instead of defending himself or speaking his mind, he obliges bitterly.

"You need to get laid," are his last words before he slams the door and opens the zipper bag to pop a pill. Ecstasy isn't so fun when you're not around, but he can use the distraction. It's been a bad day.

He flips off a stray cat idling around the garden before casually leaving the property.

—————

Studying isn't fun for you, never has been, never will be. Though you hate every second of it, it does give you something to do to make time pass faster. You've been tutoring yourself about things you'll learn sooner or later anyway, but you guess it doesn't hurt to have to study less when the time comes.

You check the time. It's approaching night at 9 PM, and your father wouldn't protest against a break now, hopefully. He only suggested that you should start studying, but you know what his suggestions really mean.

Do it, or get shamed into doing it with subtle glances.

As if that isn't enough, he constantly checked up on you throughout the day. He wasn't exactly giving you a choice, which irks you.

But that's done and over with, and there's a more pressing matter at hand: where is Taehyung? You heard bits and pieces of the argument, but you couldn't get the whole scoop. You worry he's going to go back to his old habits of never being here, rarely seeing you. He would've been hanging out with you six hours ago out of routine... It can't just be you being clingy. Something happened.

You: are you coming home tonight?

The response takes a few minutes.

taehyung: nop

taehyung: but i am coming to ur room

taehyung: cuz ik u cant sleep without me 😖

You: actually the opposite but ok lol

You: when are you coming

taehyung: whenever u want uwu

You: uwu...?

You: just come before it gets too late

—————

So that was a lie. It's 1 AM and still no word from Taehyung. Okay, maybe you're just being clingy now, but it's unlike him not to be clingy. Maybe he wanted to cool off for a long time after his tak with your step-dad, or simply wanted to hang out with his friends after spending all of his time with you.

That makes sense. What doesn't is the slide of your window and shuffling of your curtains. You instantly sit up in your bed and clutch your blanket closer. You watch a silhouette enter your room as you pick up your limp, your tense muscles relaxing only when you recognize the intruder. You put down the lamp with a click of your tongue, ignoring the relief in your pounding heart.

"Hey," he stupidly grins at you. He looks disheveled, clothes untucked and wrinkled, and from the little light you have, you can see his redshot eyes.

"There's also the door," you remark sassily. "Are you um... high?"

He shrugs and crawls in your bed, dismissive as usual. You both make an effort to keep your voices quiet.

"I talked to mom earlier," you ease into the discussion until he butts in.

"That's great."

You roll your eyes and prop an elbow to look down at him. His head lies on his hands while staring at you, mood strangely upbeat. He's definitely high.

"She was a little sad about something, and I know it involves you. I heard you talking to–" You're interrupted with a lingering peck, a little rough in its force but not unwelcomed.

"I've missed kissing you. Shouldn't you be asleep, by the way?"

Recovering from the unexpected attack, you reply, "It's not that late. I don't have to wake up early."

"You shouldn't ruin your sleep schedule," he tucks a hair strand behind your ear without taking his eyes off of you. "Staying up is hard to stop once you start."

"Yeah, you're a great example," you joke with a quiet giggle. Whispering with him feels intimate in a heart fluttering way. His heart pangs with a feeling he can't put a finger on. "You didn't answer my question."

"Hm?"

"Don't play dumb, I'm really curious. What happened with dad?"

"A lot of things happen with dad," he shrugs, "sometimes we play catch–"

"Taehyung," you give him a pointed look, and he giggles.

"You're right, he'd never play catch with me." He groans as he stretches in your bed before trapping you with his arms on either side of you in one motion. You don't know what he's trying to do, but you watch him above you in amusement. "No offence, but when is your mom not sad when my dad is around?" he laughs with a huff.

"That's rude, Tae," you remark seriously, "she's happy when you're around."

Taehyung's smile falters like yours, his happy guise crumbling when he says, "Are you?"

"Pfft," you roll your eyes, "What do you think? I was up waiting for you."

Ah. That's not a very good influence.

"I'm here now," he whispers, "go to sleep. It's okay, I won't do anything, I know you worked hard today."

You agree with a yawn and nod. But even in your sleepy state, you can read the room—Taehyung is especially attentive of his tone and volume aside from being so tense. "Are you alright?"

"I'm in and on ecstasy," he falls back on his former spot, "I can't not be alright."

"Taehyung, I haven't seen you all day–"

"Yeah, because I didn't want to be here," he looks at you dead in the eye, "and I don't want you to be here."

You blink rapidly, slightly shaking your head in confusion, "What are you saying?"

"Move in with me."

He's met with cold silence, so he persuades persistently, "Don't you want to get away from here? You'll have so much more freedom with me, and I can help you with your assignments and everything. It'll be perfect."

"I— do you... Where?" Taehyung is high and he doesn't know what he's saying is what you believe because this is so out of the blue, so irrational, but he describes it like it's utopia; you are not completely against the idea.

"I have enough money from drug dealing to rent an apartment, and you can tell dad that you want to move out to be like an adult or whatever, that you have a stable job, without mentioning me," he rambles, and his dilated pupils are more noticeable up close; it slightly puts you off.

"Wh-what about mom?"

He scoffs, "If she wants out, she can get her second divorce. Don't worry about them; after all, they're apparently the only real adults here," he relates back to not being worthy of being called a man. You shift away from him little by little. "Just trust me."

The phrase is triggering for you, a reminder of the time you were tricked into trusting him moments before your trauma. "We'll talk about this when you're sober," you meekly say, avoiding eye contact.

A wicked smile grows on his face, "I can't wait, princess."

#idea tae #*cue big time rush theme*#just gotta say this one last time #the analysis was so well written #its honestly a sight for sore eyes 😫

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pastel9girlbunny000die · 4 years ago

Text

Age Gap... AU

Part 1

One Piece The Monster trio~

♡The characters are all between 27-29 unless said otherwise

♡The s/o is between 16-18

Warning: ...Kissing and Cuddles? PDA and nakedness, smoking and drinking

***

Monkey D. Luffy🍖

🍖Dating a younger s/o has never really been a problem or something bad for Luffy

🍖Cause his more of a child than you are.

🍖People outside of your friend group always assumed that you guys are good friends or relatives.

🍖When Luffy's friends found out you two where dating, they we're really supportive and made you feel part of a great social group... better than the poeple you hang out at school

🍖Same with Luffy's family. They accepted you as part of the family without hesitation, but still trying to wrap their heads around how you two even started dating???

🍖Umm ugh... Your family not so much... Your parents weren't very happy about you dating an older guy like Luffy.

🍖It made them worry

🍖But! You did reinsurer them it's was all fine. He has a decent job makes enough to support a family has a nice cozy home and a loving personality.

🍖it got them off your back for a while~

🍖Buttttttt~😏

🍖when it comes to Luffy's looks, he looks pretty young for his age already reaching his late twenties.

🍖When telling others that your in fact dating doing all the sweet loving couples stuff, they believe you since he looks like an older classmate from your school.

🍖But when you tell then his infact an working adult... they don't believe you, they just take it as a bad joke.

🍖You never ask your meat brain for help with homework cause you might start fooling around instead of doing it, if his presence is around you during school work or studying.

🍖Luffy doesn't really care about age since he loves you for who you are rather than what age gender or colours you are.

🍖And he does it unconditionally.

🍖He loves it when you cook a big meat feast for a king! or you randomly give him cuddles or cheeks kisses. It makes his heart beat exstra fast and butterfly's fluttering all around in his stomach.

🍖Luffy introduced you to a lot of new food and you love most of the dishes. But also found a few new food allergies you never knew you had.

🍖Let's just say you know the hospital staff pretty well now.

🍖Small loving touches like these matters a lot to him like all the little things you do for him. It makes him extremely happy.

🍖PDA 😏*Public display of affection*

🍖Luffy doesn't mind holding hands or little pecks here and there in public.

🍖But holding his hand comes with consequences... be prepared to be dragged from placed to place in a public shopping mall or market cause he won't let go when he runs from food course to food course.

🍖But when it comes to PDA kissing, he only allows the quick peck on the lips or cheeks he doesn't do the long make out session. His not one to sit still in one place for too long.

🍖His your man child after all.

Roronoa Zoro ⚔

⚔Zoro doesn't care.

⚔He dates you cause you are you.

⚔He has never been really the one to judge based on looks but when he met you he saw nothing but the most beautiful thing in the world.

⚔He has a really direct personality and isn't really the one to talk much or too clingy.

⚔Zoro doesn't have a solid job he switches from part time to part time, and one of his joba is the reason he met his s/o.

⚔He got lost on his way too your school and ended up bumping into you, literally.

⚔He nicely asked for directions and you gladly let him tag along with you, even though he sometimes turns the wrong way.

⚔It turned out he applied as a substitute teacher for a month at the boys kendo club.

⚔So you had a lot of time getting to know each other 😏~

⚔Other than that he hit it off pretty well with his s/o. From hanging out at school during lunch, to after school and weekends.

⚔That's how you ended up asking him out on a date.

(Definitely demanding to pick him up!!!)

⚔Than started dating. You later on met his group of friends which surprised you though to him not being a kind of person to hang out with a loud bunch but thier his life long friends and good people, you ended up liking them quicker than your school friends.

⚔Zoro's parents have already passed away and his is the only child so it was sad that you didn't get to meet his family and thank them for making this hard working lovable idiot.

⚔It took you awhile to work up the courage to let your family meet Zoro. It's not that you care about if they liked him or not all you wanted to know if they'll let you be with him and keep loving your marimo.

⚔Their reactions where priceless. But they were okay with it. Since they knew the swordsman from high school and he wouldn't do anything to seriously hurt you.

⚔Telling others that you and Zoro are indeed a couple is weird to them he has a bleak personality and a horrible attitude along with him being in his late 20s.

⚔You on the other hand are sunshine and rainbows all the time full of energy and always positive.

⚔How does that mix?

⚔In public you guys always gets mistaken for father and daughter/Son. But you brush it off and claiming your a couple.

⚔Which surprised them but they don't push further though to Zoro sending them glares.

⚔One thing you love about Zoro is taking little naps together. Anywhere the couch, bed, floor, bath tub anywhere you start cuddling him he'll fall asleep on you a few minutes after you'd follow.

⚔He tought you Kendo. And let's say you got a new hobby.

⚔You once asked him to help you with homework. Next day you came in with the excuse, "Ma'am my dog ate my homework."

⚔Zoro loves you with all his heart sometimes he can't help but feel like he doesn't deserve you or his holding you back?

⚔But you reinsurer him with him is the happiest you have felt in you life.

⚔PDA 😳*Public display of affection*

⚔His not really good with affection but he doesn't push you off when you want a hug or two maybe even kisses he will allow it.

⚔His also not clinging kind of guy. So waking around in public he won't hold your hand but he will put an arm around your neck.

⚔And in return one of your hands slips into the back pocket of his jeans giving you the opportunity to squeeze his ass whenever you desire.

⚔He let's it slide. With a tiny blush.

⚔While walking around in any public place you always keep an exstra eye on him (like a parent making sure not to lose thier kid in a large place).

⚔Your more relaxed when his arm is around you meaning you'll be near him at all times. But when his not your six sense activate to mama bear mode all eyes on him at every second.

⚔In one day at the mall you caught him almost mindlessly walking off in a random direction or out the store.

⚔You had to chase after him.

⚔PDA Kissing😚~ Like I said he doesn't mind it but when he gets a little drunk he full on gets you sucked into a full blown make out session he doesn't care where. In public, at home, in you home, out with his/your friends even near your parents. Nothing gets in his ways of what he wants.

⚔Not even your embarrassment.

⚔After all your stuck with your Marimo.

Sanji Vinsmoke 🚬

🚬Sanji is a complete different case than the other two mentioned above.

🚬He's a hopeless romantic.

🚬First time you met him he was dress as a okama. A first expression you'll never forget, For awhile you wonder who that woman was and thought you'll never cross paths again

🚬Destiny proofed you wrong.

🚬You met him again at the Baratie one of the most famous restaurants in town.

🚬In the end you guys talked the night away, you probably interacted with him more than the poeple you came with.

🚬Later on he invites you for a free homemade meal, personally made by him.

🚬He also gave you his number~ 😚😏

🚬That's how you met.

🚬And later on you two became closer there was just this unique thing about Sanji that made you like him more.

🚬Yes he treats woman with the at most respect and kindness, randomly complements any woman he comes across.

🚬Like a true gentleman.

🚬But in his eyes you felt different. He flirts more with you, he does small sweet things for you.

🚬And don't forget the mouthwatering lunch boxes you get to take school.

🚬Sanji spoils his s/o with a lot of affection he can't go a day without a hug or kiss, if he doesn't get either one of them he will genuinely worry.

🚬Sanji thinks it's cute that your younger than him, it gives him more of a responsibility vibe when his near you.

🚬He practically treats his young s/o like the rightful queen/King they are.

🚬But that doesn't mean his a little negative when it came to his age, his not that old reaching his late 20s, he has his doubts.

🚬But when he has these bad thoughts you can see it on his face, it made you sad that he thinks you'd leave him for someone younger.

🚬Your response is making him some nice relaxing hot tea and cuddle him in a blanket whispering sweet words of love to him

🚬It lights his mood a bit.

🚬From time to time, Sanji's s/o gets jealous by the way he treats other women, you could be a little selfish just wanting him to only look at you in that way.

🚬You weren't surprised when you met his friends they care about Sanji as much as you did, they also loved you, finally happy that he got a lover so they could stop hearing his complaints about his single life.

🚬And they kinda use him for free meals. Especially Luffy the leader of their little friends group he always whines for meat, it kinda cute.

🚬You can't really ask Sanji for help in school work/homework, his a high school dropout. And the only thing he can actually help with is cooking classes which you hate. But at least your grades picked up in that class

🚬Sanji never let's you meet his biological family, he forbids the topic and avoids it at all cost. But couldn't wait for you to meet Zeff his adopted father, he literally dragged you to his childhood home to meet the old geezer.

🚬Zeff took you in the moment he met you and treated you like his own daughter/son, he also said "Finally I can rest in peace knowing you won't die alone." At Sanji.

🚬Which result in a small argument.

🚬Like Sanji you refuse to let him meet your parents, afraid they won't accept the relationship and force you apart. So you always give him the excuse that you want to wait or not ready yet.

🚬He respect your decision, and won't interfere or go behind your back. If you can wait so will he.

🚬Buttttttttt😱

🚬One night your Dad/Father decided that the family should go out to eat, give your mom/mother a little break from cooking.

🚬You agree to go aswell. Without knowing which restaurant.

🚬Guess where you went😏

🚬Yes... The Baratie!!!

🚬Your soul left your body. I mean Sanji should be off right ? Right ? Its weekend.

🚬But it got worse when you saw a glimpse of him in the kitchen and your eyes meet.

🚬What go worst that your Mom/Mother took a seat in Sanji's section of the restaurant.

🚬Meaning he will serve you.

🚬At this point you give up and just let it be, tonight your life as well as your relationship will come crashing down.

🚬Mindlessly sitting down, at that moment Sanji came bursting through the kitchen doors like a tornado heading towards you

🚬Wrapped his arms around you kissing you all over your face, right in front of your family.

🚬They where far beyond shock.

🚬By the time Sanji let's go of you, you looked like a morning person who just got out of bed, hair messy clothes messy and a blank look on your face.

🚬It didn't take long for them to start drowning you with questions.

🚬In the end you made sure to tell them,

"Mom/Mother Dad/Father, this is Sanji his the head chef of the Baratie, his also m-my boyfriend."

🚬Your mom/Mother got offended that your dating a professional cook, that is most likely better at cooking than her.

🚬Your Dad got offended that your dating someone older close to his age. (He can't really give the if you hurt my little girl/boy I will end you speech, the blonde must've heard it for a long time and just wouldn't be treated by it.)

🚬But they saw how worried you looked holding Sanji's hand tightly, the blonde seemed ready to start a argument if they would be against you two.

🚬In the end they smiled and nodded.

🚬Sanji and his s/o couldn't be more happy as instant took over and you two kissed passionately and long.

🚬Your Dad/Father had to clear his throat reminding you where you are.

🚬You broke apart blushing.

🚬It all ended up happy.

🚬Telling your parents weren't easy but now that you know that thier okay with your relationship made it easier to tell others.

🚬Let me tell you, Yes Sanji is older than you and everyone can tell that by his looks, so they just assume you guys are relatives or brothers/brother and sister.

🚬Sanji always corrects them, Your his lover not family member.

🚬That's when they turn to you asking if his black mailing you.

🚬You just simply say "No."

🚬You don't need to give others an explanation, knowing you two love each other very much.

🚬Despise Sanji's appearance you ignore his good looking hot abs and body and turn to his eyebrows and personally others make fun of how unnatural they are but they are the most lovable features on him that you like the most.

🚬Sanji smokes, and yes you know that. You never complain or ask him to stop, but you did ask him why he does, he simply just said "I started to smoke to piss off the geezer, I was just a stupid teenager at the time."

🚬You don't like cooking so that kinda got Sanji down, but you didn't mind helping out once in awhile.

🚬You love make overs dressing up and looking pretty. Which made him happy that he can share his okama side with you, you love doing his make up. aswell as styling his blonde wig.

🚬That's how he brought you to meet Iva one of his friends at the kamabakka night club.

🚬You really enjoyed it there and all the others you met.

🚬It was really fun seeing Sanji in his more feminine side and dress as a girl.

🚬It made you happy that he even share his most inner self with you.

🚬Sanji is really happy that you accept and love him for who he is.

🚬PDA *Public display of affection*

🚬Sanji is all over you hand holding, kissing, hugging even making out.

🚬He let's you hold hands and doesn't mind random kisses on his cheeks but he personally prefers his mouth over his cheeks.

🚬PDA kissing 😏~ One thing he loves is being taller than you, so when you want to give affection by kissing you have to stand on you tip toes and only able to reach his jawline.

🚬So you just kiss him from his jaw to his collarbone. Secretly leaving a mark😏~

🚬But when you go out with him dress as a Okama he doesn't let you kiss him much or hold hands but he doesn't mind locking arms with you.

🚬Just to know you're near, and save.

🚬He has one hell of a kick, You found out that out when you guys went out to a bar with Iva and some of his other friends (You didn't drink, being a minor and all but you did have a glass of soda or water).

🚬At some point Sanji got up to use the bathroom. And when he got back he saw a drunk guy harassing his s/o

🚬So with one hit he kicked the living hell out of the guy. (It didn't ended well for that guy, must've hurt more with the high heels boots Sanji's was wearing kicked him😵)

🚬And Sanji angrily dragged his s/o home early.

🚬It surprised you since Sanji wasn't really violent around you much, but knowing he'd even get into a fight to protect you. Made you happy and felt loved. He is the blonde cook you fell in love with after all.

***

#One piece #fanfic #male reader #fem reader #monkey d luffy #roronoa zoro #sanji vinsmoke #luffy #Zoro #Sanji #One piece fanfic #anime

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xmilenavsch · 5 years ago

Text

the only exception: a pat murray x fem!reader one shot

gif credit: @hollyjollyriphunter

pairing: pat murray x reader

word count: about 2,3k

warnings: none! maybe a little angst if you may see it like that & a lot of fluff!

a/n: my first fanfiction on here and my first one after literal years, haha! (bare with me for that matter) also, keep in mind that english isn't my first language, so i'm really sorry for any mistakes!

this is mainly written for & because of one of my best friends leila - leave her some love on her insta @ angelmazzello! <3

summary: y/n is a worker at the d-back's agency, as the woman for basically everything – mostly bringing the boys snacks or drinks or just for their entertainment, considering that all of them are mad obsessed with her & never fail to show her that. but for her, there's only one: the world's most angry but soft boy, patrick murray.

enjoy this fan fiction for now & don’t forget to request me stuff in the comments or via dm!

It was a sunny and hot Saturday in August, when you, Y/N, got ready for work. The Californian sun shone into your bedroom as you were getting ready, excited for the game, and excited to see your favourite team in the world in action once again. They didn't always gain as much as they may have wanted to, but you knew that they gave their best every time and how much they lived for the game.

Leaving your appartment with fast steps, getting into your car and driving to the field, the only thing you could think about though was this one specific man, who you couldn't keep out of your mind since the minute you saw him for the first time. You never really knew if he was feeling equally, but the only thing you really always knew was that the things with him were different. For better understanding: The D-Backs team is a dysfuntional team of college allumni baseball players, who never manage to close their months and who can't go a day without insulting one another so much you might think they'd hold it against each other until the end of time. But when you see them on the next day, everything's back to normal and everyhing happens all over again. You love watching them being by themselves and also their dynamic on the field. They had some kind of magic within their group that amazed you every time. Well, maybe it was just the magic that your best friend, John „Mazz“ Mazzello always tried to point out, but you really didn't care. You loved these boys. And they loved you too.

About that: They didn't just love you, they were quite literally obsessed with you. There was never a time when they saw you where they didn't whistle after you, told you how good you looked with your tied up hair and in your jumpsuit and how well you smelled when you hugged every one of them. It didn't really bother you, you in fact found it extremely funny and always told them that – even when Vinnie sort of revealed to you that all of them had a list and a bet on the go who would get you in bed first – but you still didn't care, you also had a share on that one after all. But there was still just one of them who never really was into that whole thing – it could've been no other but Pat Murray. Mazz's childhood friend, the most enthusiastic screamer on the field, who deep down just was somebody who needed and wanted a lot of love. Which you never told him of course, because those were just thoughts in your head, and you would never dare letting those out. It was too risky for you. Because you definitely didn't want to lose him. Even though you weren't the closest friends, there was always something about your bond that was different to the ones you had with the other boys. But you never knew how you were supposed to tell him that. You just couldn't. Even though you felt his stares, his gazes, his secret attention he gave to you. The little smile he made when he heard you laugh. But he also couldn't admit to himself that there could be more between you guys. He just couldn't wrap his mind around the fact that someone so pure, beautiful, kindhearted, amazing, supportive and angelic like YOU would actually want him. HIM. The messiest person to exist. So you were stuck in your denial of wanting the other and living with it for as good as years now. And so far, this life has been really good. You were just too tired from it, which didn't make it any better. „But it is what it is! Y'know!“, something Zapata would say from time to time when they lost another game.

( OH RIGHT, Y/N is literally on her way to their next game! Back to that topic I guess. )

As you arrive on the parking lot next to the baseball field, you start your normal routine – getting out of your car and locking it, checking yourself in so you at least gain a little money from all of this, getting into the building of the D-Backs home place with their lockers and all, getting into its kitchen and getting everything they needed for the day. They had a home match, meaning they must all have been pretty nervous and maybe even scared to fail. Which is always a matter of the atmosphere within the team, which was different every time, which amazed you always. So you get their snacks and drinks, say Hi with a bright smile to everyone you cross paths with and head to your boys.

As they see you from afar, you can already just smell Palacco's grin towards you and Dells' whistles. „Well well well, look who it is! Our entertainment during our misery!“, the raven haired yelled at you. You scoff a little. „I'm also really happy to see you boys, Johnathan. And just for your reassurance: Go fuck yourself loser.“ All of them laugh at you, which just makes you roll your eyes. As you hand them their snacks, Mazz walks up to you last to get his own, giving you a kiss on your cheek. „Thanks for doing this every time Y/N, you know you're an angel“, he winks at you. You just nodd your head slightly, while looking over to the boys. After some time you just look confused at them, because one special one is missing. „Hey, has anyone seen Murray? He normally is the first one to get this snacks every time. Stress eating and all.“ Arthur just nodds at the field. „He's right there, just checking out the grass' new cut. Y'know, he likes to play specified.“ Another laugh leaves the boys' mouths. You just shake your head and walk up to him, his snacks in your one hand, the other one stuffed into the bag of your jumpsuit.

From afar you can already see his auburn hair glowing in the sun, how it matches with his red team uniform and how his light skin just looks purer than anything else you've seen in your life so far. This sight makes your heart jump into your stomach and you need some time to catch a breath, before you raise your voice a little. „Murray!“, you yell towards the man in front of you. He quickly turns around to see you and you could've sworn that there was a slight smile on his lips as he faced you. „Oh, Y/N, good afternoon. What's the matter?“ You just walk closer to him and hand him his food. „Here, you weren't with the others when I handed it out, so I just thought I'd bring it to you like this.“ He nodds his head and takes it on. „Yeah, I just wanted to check if all the lines are still on track after the grass was cut a couple of days ago. So we don't fail completely. But thanks.“ You scoff, following his eyes as they're sampling the ground. He then sighs, a sound he makes very frequently and which you were already used to hearing from him. „What's wrong Patty? You worried you guys are gonna lose today?“ He laughs a little at the nickname, but then faces you again. „Well, you know Y/N/N, I'm always worried we will. But with home matches-“ - „-it just hits different, I know“, you cut him off. „But y'know, I will be there cheering you guys on from the fence, right next to you. You guys will rock this“, you reassure him, patting his right arm a little bit with your left hand. You wouldn't be lying if you admitted that the both of you felt some type of electricity from that embrace.

He just nodds his head about what you said and actually smiles a little. „Yeah, I know that: It's always you cheering us up the most. And it's the sweetest thing ever.“ You smile hard at his words, probably harder than you should, and do you even blush a little from them or is that just the summer sun shining straight in your face? You don't really know, and maybe you don't even care. What you do care about though is when Mazz yells over to you guys so Pat comes back to the rest of the team to get ready for their game.

You know he does this every time you and Murray have a moment like this, because he doesn't want you to get hurt. Pat didn't have the best experiences when it comes to love so far in his life and because of his broken soul he sometimes makes decisions that don't only hurt him, but also his partner-at-the-time. His last relationship ended pretty bad, you were the one comforting him, already being head over heels crushing on him. But you didn't want to let your feelings in the way of him being hurt, because he was your friend and you wanted to be there for him. Now things are way different and he kind of got over the heartbreak he experienced, but you still couldn't find the guts to tell him. You just couldn't. And Mazz knew that. So every time you guys talked about it, he accepted your decision, even though he was basically the only one believing this thing between you and Murray could work. But he accepted your decision, and whatever decision Patrick would make, because you guys were his best friends and he didn't want anything bad happen to you, nor to lose either of you. So he was just there. Being the secret admirer of secret admirers.

As Murray and you get back to the rest of the team, you hug every single of them, wishing them the best of luck. Mazz comes last. You embrace each other the tightest, because you knew that'd give him strength. The only one you didn't hug was Pat, but you just never did that. It sort of never „fitted the vibe of your bond“, as David would say. So you just walk over behind the fence, watching the game elope.

From the beginning the match was an intense competition, not only between the two teams, but also between the teammembers within one. But with the D-Backs, that was normal. You were used to listen to them insulting one another in the worst ways possible, with words you didn't even think were a part of the English dictionary. But you just watched and enjoyed the whole thing.

After a lot of time has passed and a tie has been declared, somebody had to be chosen for the last pitch to win the whole thing – this time for the D-Backs. You nervously stand on your tip toes, waiting for a decision to be made. The referee had decided to select the performer at random. So they try to find someone, everybody in the crowd is extremely tense, just like you and the rest of your boys are, when they make a decision. „Patrick Murray, 7th, centerfield!“. You gasp loudly and a shiver runs down your spine. Oh god, this can't end well. But Pat walks up to his supposed spot with a kind of confidence you've never seen before on him, with his bat, his baby, his basical everything, standing there and waiting to hit it off. As he's waiting, he turns around a little to face the crowd, finding your face and looking you straight in the eye. You just nood at him, fingers intertwined next to your mouth, and somehow, this gives him all the strength he needs.

As the ball flies up to him, he stands on his position, waiting for the right moment.

Then he hits it.

And then he gets it.

The crowd and the rest of the team are cheering more than ever. They really did win! The disappointment on the faces of the opposite team were probably able to be seen in a country 10,000 miles away, but you didn't care. You just were so incredibly proud of your team and especially of your man, Murray, who practically wasn't your man yet officially, but that didn't stop him from owning your heart to the fullest. You push yourself through the cheery people, ignoring the rest of the D-Backs being all over each other, walking fastly towards Patrick. As he sees you, he drops his bat and also walks up to you, hugging you tighter then ever, which gives you more and more shivers and just lets all the adrenaline overflow you that you could ever be able to. Out of the sudden, he picks you up, making you squeak a little, spinning you around for a moment. He let's you down again, looking you straight in the eyes, you just smiling at him the brightest way possible. God, he freaking loved your smile. And from all the previous events, all the strength you had given him, he finally says the one thing you've desired to hear from him for such a long time now: „Go out with me Y/N. I mean it. As a Thank you for helping me today.“ You gasp a little, holding your breath, still having your arms around his waist. „Are you sure? You know that was only you being the talent you are just a few minutes ago.“ He scoffs. „Yeah, I know, but I'm also sure. And dead serious. Just go out with me, sweetie. You won't regret it.“

You just shake your head in agreement. You would most definitely finally go out with the man who owns your heart. And then you'll see what will happen from then on.

#joe mazzello #pat murray x reader #undrafted #pat murray #joe mazzello x reader

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