#my sister: you might make these same decisions if you were owner. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

blueparadis · 2 years

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▏MAGNETIC MOONLIGHT ▏M.SANO ▏

+. CWs—» omega!fem!reader, alpha!manjiro sano, abo au + mafia au, explicit smut, omegaverse terminology, fluff, light humour, mutual pinning,slow burn, marking, sensory deprivation, denning, nesting, mention of knotting & bonding, oral acts, lotus position, aftercare. word count— 7.2k

+. synopsis —» Manjiro loved his life, it was enriched with everything he cherished with his bullet proof heart but he didn't realise that he was starving until he tasted you.

+. notes —» this is commissioned by @wallflowerdowned THANK YOU SO MUCH. This has now become one of my favourite Manjiro fics. I hope you like it too <333. you can also read this in my ao3.

COMMISSIONS + NAVIGATION LINKS.

PLAYLIST - something about you + juliet + something super sweet + butterflies + every second + drugs n’ hella melodies .

Manjiro and Ryuguji entered the bar with utmost haste to save themselves from another perilous wave threatening to dash on them. It was not just a bad idea, it was something that could turn the tide against them. Emma was missing, which was not the problem. It has become normal since she got married to Draken. They were in a very happy marriage but sometimes their decisions clash. It is so rare to have their decisions coincide, and have them on board on a particular matter. Manjiro always thought why Emma even decided to marry Draken since all she did was bicker with him all day. But at the same time, he was happy; happy that Sano house will have a child in the house and he won’t be dragged into his dearest friend’s love quarrel.

As soon as Manjiro stepped into the bar, he began to shout, “Oi Emmaaa.” and that certainly ticked off Draken’s brimming patience.

“What the fuck you’re doing?”, Mikey’s slate eyes shot up to Draken, glinting with confusion. Baji had already walked into the dance floor by the time, skimming through the crowd basking in neon lights. He exhaled a deep sigh as soon as he noticed that his friends were not by his side. He took a few steps back finding them proudly blocking the entrance of the bar and bickering like kids. Baji remarked, “Mikey, no cop announces their presence.”, filling the blanks in Mikey's head that were starting to create wrinkles in his forehead. “Right”, he yapped. “Let’s scatter then”, Manjiro and Draken went south while Baji, Chifuyu, and Kazutora joined the dancing crowd. The popular pattern of good cop and bad cop.

Mikey and Draken, had to split since Draken was getting restless. He was not to blame, anyone would lose their composure if their Omega went missing, and that too during their pregnancy. Manjiro looked around and found nothing unusual. There were no signs of shady people in this bar which was odd since this was one of the most expensive bars under Tettas that could be labeled as a hub for budding mafia pupils. One wrong move and Kisaki will know that they were in his territory which might create more problems than he can think of right now.

Manjiro’s onyx eyes scanned the place thoroughly until he spotted a blonde girl resting her head over the bar counter, leaning against it, lifelessly. He let out a growl advancing in her direction. Baji cleared the crowd instantly as Manjiro’s growl reached his ear; even though he earned strong resistance from the guards. Chifuyu aligned all the bartenders and other staff on a side while Hanemiya was already making calls to the owner of this bar, Kisaki Tetta. Draken carefully took Emma in his arms and sat on the nearest settee. Manjiro was the most desired as well as popular alpha in town. With his first line of alphas accompanying him, no one dared to talk, not even look him in the eye.

ONE.TWO.THREE.

Swinging his arm in the air, with three overlapping snaps of his fingers, Manjiro gathered his whole pack of alphas around him. He sat on the stool where Emma was sitting a few minutes ago. Finally, the deafening silence was overpowered by his husky voice.

“So, who was it? Who roofied my sister’s drink?”

Baji ran his fingers over his forehead muttering, “you’re scaring them, Mikey”

“as if they haven't already pissed their pants !”, Manjiro scoffed. Whoever did this was already at death’s door because everyone in the town knew that harming Emma in any way was an act of declaration of war against the Sanos.

The Sanos were famous for their long lineage of alphas be it male or female descendants. Emma was the first female Omega in their family. Even though she was cherished by her family, some did not like her, some even took it far enough to talk behind her back for being accepted into the family. She was attacked once when she has just gone through her first heat cycle. Back then, Shinichiro was out of town for business and Mikey handled everything. He fired all the servants of the house and next week, hired some polished betas, even some with a particular set of skills and since then Emma has not faced any kind of fatal incidents.

Naturally, any whiff of danger would denote his oceanic calm. Now that Emma was with a child, he was mad in rage as there was more than one life in line. From time to time, he has experienced so many situations where his dearest ones were on the brink of death. But, it has also made him come across different types of alphas. Baji was one of his childhood friends. He met Draken when he saved him from being exploited during his first rut. Since then, a flawless alpha like Draken has been following Manjiro. The other stories were the talk of the town and he would roll on the floor when Izana had told him how fast information traveled and that too molded in so many shapes and forms. Some made his jaw drop while Izana teased him for that.

“Tetta is coming in thirty minutes.”, Kazutora declared as he stood beside Mikey. Both Baji and Kazutora were standing by his side, on either side, waiting for their alpha’s move.

“Draken, Talk to me. I can still smell the roofies.”, voice laced with venom, mind boiling in rage. Manjiro ran his left hand through his fluffy blonde strands as he checked his watch. Baji and Kautora had an idea about what he was going to do; they both clustered their hair in the back tying it in a high ponytail, simultaneously, like parallel lines. That is what people envied about him. Even though alphas were born rulers and leaders some were devoted to him. Manjiro was one of a kind. Being the head of the family as well as followed by a pack of alphas, he was untouchable and fearsome. And someone decided to roofie his sister’s drink. What an utter fool!

“Doctor. She needs to see a doctor.”, Draken was barely able to talk, he was holding Emma in his arms while she remained almost unconscious, senes too weak to respond.

“You all have fifteen minutes. It would save both the parties a lot of work if any of you kindly start to speak”, Manjiro roared making all the captivators drown in fear and amplifying the silence even more. His patience was starting to thin with each tick of the clock. He cleared his throat and spoke in a less domineering tone, “Let’s turn this question around, alright? Who served her the drink, fellas ?”. There were few exchanges of eye contact and Manjiro was just waiting for that. Bingo . He found his target.

Manjiro was about to drag his target out of the line but the door clanked declaring the appearance of Kisaki Tetta, followed by his right-hand man, Hanma Shuji. “Ahh! Tetta. My favorite human being.”, Manjiro left his seat to greet him. “Just in time.”, he chimed with a doleful smirk as he shook his hands with him. Manjiro has never been the one to affront the betas but he can’t promise anything, especially since his family was dragged into his life of violence.

Kisaki Tetta might not be an influential alpha but he was certainly hard to decipher, his thoughts, his connections, friends, and even his relationship with Hanma Shuji. He was swarming with joy since the most fearsome pack of alphas was at his bar. He has been eyeing this particular pack for a long time as he wants to extend his business with the sanos. He secretly thanked the heavens for whoever roofied Emma’s drink that blessed him with so many open routes to establish ties with the alphas of toman. He did not waste any further to place his offer and save himself from Manjiro’s wrath, not bothering about the remark he made to him.

“I came with good news, Mikey.”, Kisaki remarked looking at Emma and Draken. “Hanma will take them to the nearest hospital. And, I’ll close my bar for a week to scrutinize all my staff.” Draken swiftly took Emma in his arms again ready to follow Hanma Shuji, a reputed sigma to be aware of.

“But I need a name. You see, I need everyone to understand that I do not tolerate any kind of . . .”, Manjiro’s voice faded. He swallowed as he glanced at his beloved sister.

“Mike..eeyy…”, Manjiro’s ears were burning hot. He is the head of the Sano family. He is the alpha of alphas. He can’t show his emotions. He can not let the hunters know how much Emma meant to her otherwise people are bound to come at her. His slate eyes desperately clung to only one hope, a prayer, Emma please be safe . Emma had her eyes slightly parted now, she mumbled something which was not audible.

Draken spelled it out. “yn…she was here too”, that name did not seem to ring a bell to Manjiro. He is aware of Emma’s circle. Call it the possessiveness of an elder brother or his blooming youth that made him keep tabs on all the omegas and betas Emma was friends with but it earned him the ‘cherry chaser’ title as of lately. Sure, he would blink if an omega flirted with him but he never takes the initial step because some omegas are vile enough to ruin the whole family. Omegas are often hired by a rival gang to create disturbances in an alpha’s pack. He was not willing to take such risks. So, he remained steered clear of such habits, especially when Shinichiro is out of town.

Everyone was alert. With a room full of alphas they could not detect another presence of an omega. It seemed next to impossible. It was a puncture in their ballooned ego. Chifuyu was quick enough to check the bathrooms. “Baji-san, Toraaaa. She is here.”, he yelled since Manjiro was busy with the negotiations. Baji was nearing his pre-rut so he was avoiding everyone, even betas. “Awhh Baji don’t worry. I’ll tell you what kind of scent she has…”,Kazutora drawled in noticing Baji’s snarl. He was on the verge of getting a whack from Baji but fortunately, he was able to dodge it.

As Kazutora joked down to check her, he could smell that she had more roofies in her system than Emma, probably some aphrodisiacs too. “Mikeyyy”, he called for the alpha. “You need to see this.”, he supplied as Manjiro entered the bathroom. He crouched in front of yn to check her pulse.

As he held your wrist in between his fingers you tried to open your eyes but the drugs were tough. With your body being this weak, you could hardly manage to fight back if someone were to attack. Hence, prayer was the only option as your thoughts were dissolved in fear. With half-lidded eyes, you tried to conjecture: a blonde head with a dragon tattoo on his neck.

“Micheal…”, you murmured making the alpha purr under reflex. It was subtle but it was there. His eyes traveled back to where Kisaki, Chifuyu, and Kazutora were standing. The three of them exchanged looks before Manjiro declared. “She is breathing”

Kisaki was already one step ahead. He was calling Hanma to get a doctor for her need. No, it was not for yn’s safety, it was merely an act of kindness to please his new business partner. Mikey nodded very lightly and both the alphas standing near the door understood his cue. They had to leave the place along with Baji. The omega was at the peak of her heat cycle. Things would ly messy if she fell into wrong hands, now more than ever.

“I’ll call Hanma to send someone to take her to the hospital.”, Kisaki uttered before making the call.

“No. don’t.”, it was more of a command than a suggestion. It earned him the glare of other alphas that made him fill the holes in their head. “She can’t. She might be the one who roofied Emma’s drink.”, Kazutora and Kisaki were shocked at his behavior. He might be a fearsome figure but his heart was not made of ice. “ I’ll take her. ”

“But Mikey…”, Kisaki tried to assure him, that his connections were safe but Manjiro had already made up his mind.

“Kisaki. I’m done talking. I need to ask some questions to her regarding all these.”, he growled taking you in his arms. He lied.

Of course, I lied. I had to. Now, I did not know yn but I knew Emma’s type. She always had a knack to be friends with trouble-makers. Maybe that’s why she can handle all the Sano alphas in the house. I had to lie since I was not willing to leave an omega in her heat cycle at Tetta’s trusted & safe connections. I would not be surprised if he planned this all along. Baji had always warned me about him but I figured he could be of use to keep the dirty works of the town under his watch. All of these are so hard to manage. Emma needs a pep talk. She needs to know which bars, casinos, and clubs she should avoid if she ever decides to pull a stunt like that.

I was having bourbon and waiting for her to wake up. I need to know what kind of masking pill she used to keep her scent off us. If I had not checked her pulse, I would not know that she was in heat. What a day! First, my sister was nearly abducted and now I have an omega in my room, peacefully sleeping in my canopy bed. I wouldn't have carried her into my room but I was desperate for information. I needed to know how the fuck she knows my real name, Michael . If she was close to Emma, I would have known. I also needed another name to track back to the center point since very few people knew that Emma was pregnant. I’ll go bonkers if yn seemed to have any kind of stimulation in this.

But, I had to admit. She was strong, stronger than Emma. Emma might be an omega but growing up with alphas refined her senses. She acted almost like alpha and sometimes people misunderstood her type too. I did realize that I had finished six shots until my phone lit up with Ken-chin’s name.

“Is she alright?”, Manjiro’s heartbeats ceased for a while until he heard the familiar rhythm of heartbeats.

“See, she is perfectly fine. Our baby too.”, Draken could finally speak in a serene tone. Manjiro laid back his head on the headrest of the sofa exhaling deeply. “Also one more thing, Kisaki is clear. I asked Hanma about it. He has no idea.”

“Perfect.”, He saw a ray of hope, a hope not to be the so-called monster everyone has made me. He would hate it if you were to believe in such rumors. It will be harder to make you talk.

“I’ll take Emma home as soon as she regains consciousness” with that Draken ended the call.

Manjiro loosened his tie with a swish and discarded it on the floor. He was starting to feel a bit dizzy. When he noticed your weak body movements, he understood that the masking agent was starting to wear off from your body. But, with that contorted face, he knew you were having dreams, bad dreams to be accurate. He could have comforted you but that could make you hostile towards him. He did not want that, nope! He might have already crossed some boundaries by having you on his bed during your heat cycle but he can not just have you in his embrace and soothe the pain. Besides, with such a powerful masking agent he took the opportunity to see what happens if you were bestowed with the presence of such a flawless alpha like him. He was curious, hooked on your reactions.

“Emmaaa….”, Manjiro was perfectly still, eyes never leaving you, watching you like a hawk. “No, no nohh…don’t drink it…Emma”

She was wiggling so much that I wanted to wake her up but it would be hard for me not to take things further since her scent was bewitching. Maybe, that is why she used such a strong masking agent. She finally woke up as if she had seen a ghost. The first thing she did was look around steadily until her eyes were still on me. I don’t know how long it was, probably five seconds, without blinking. Damn!

Manjiro finally blinks as you meekly ask, “Where is my purse?”. He leaves his seat advancing towards you. You could feel your heartbeats in your ear, at the core of your throat until he stops mid-day saying, “you’re safe here.” His eyes trailed all over your body that made you aware of how afraid you looked to him.

“That doesn’t answer my question.”, Manjiro cocked his head at the sudden change of tone. He did not just save you to put up with this behavior. “I need it. I need it now. I think you know why.”, you manage to blurt out steadily tearing away your gaze from his, trying to fight off the pheromones he was emitting. How could he not be aware of that? What kind of alpha would not be able to keep their pheromones under control? Was he doing it on purpose?

You were so curled up in your shell, so afraid thinking about what he was going to do with you that it made him vexed enough about Kisaki’s ways to skim in this obsidian world of power and fame. He needed to fix this or rather deflect Tetta’s parasitic ways.

He tried to approach you but the way you recoiled at the corner of his bed closing your eyes and being afraid of him, made him pull away. He bit the inner side of his lower lip followed by a click of his tongue. “I’ll leave. Help yourself.”, Manjiro was already at the door when you opened your eyes. You averted to look him in the eyes. Those five seconds did a number on you. “But don’t try to run off. You’ll get eaten at this state.”, with that, he vanished from your sight instantly.

His disappearance made you aware of your surroundings. As you looked around, heartbeats were starting to regularize until the most important realization dawned on you as your eyes es fixated on the gigantic window. Luckily, for you it was open and you did not waste any further doing the obvious, did what he exactly told you not to do.

When you reached home, you realized you had lost your phone, your favorite purse, and some money. Hence, the first thing you did the next morning was to get a new number and a keypad phone. You were just about to call Emma but a sudden sight of a particular alpha ceased your movements. Manjiro was standing outside your office, leaning against his CB250T and going through his phone or maybe your phone. The frills of the curtains were still in your grasp as you watched him carefully. He was wearing jeans and a full-sleeved turtle neck. You drew in the curtains instantly as soon as his head angled up to you. Such sharp senses, as expected from an alpha like him!

The whole day he did not come to visit you in the office or called for you or send your belongings to you through the staff that pushed you more to the edge, thinking what could be the possible reason to wait outside in such hot weather all day? You remembered how you cocooned yourself in the bathroom yesterday as soon as he arrived with his pack of alphas. You tried to put all the puzzle pieces to get a proper picture but you still could not figure out why he took you to his home, let you sleep in his bed, and released pheromones voluntarily or involuntarily.

Manjiro was still standing there when you walked out of the office. He was just across the street looking at you while you stood frozen for a while. As he crossed the road, he handed you a bag that contained all your belongings, even your box of pills. You shrieked as his fingertips grazed yours. He was very warm.

“OMG! My purseeeeeee”, She squealed breaking my trance. Who the fuck gets happy over getting their purse back and not their iPhone? I did not realize that I laughed at her childishness until she glanced at me and started to walk away from me.

“Not even a thank you?”, I yelled gaining all the eyes in the street. She turned around walking back to me saying, “for what exactly?” I was willing to give up on the idea of interrogating her but with that attitude, I changed my mind. I tucked my hands inside my pocket and inclined towards her a bit saying that I need to ask some questions. I thought she would move or try to be a bit hostile but she just nodded.

We were sitting in a cafe waiting for our order. I had made up my mind already. I won’t talk unless she did first. Besides, her presence was comforting, her scent was soothing. She asked me what I wanna ask her and I’ve no idea why I dodged it. I told her that Emma will be out of the hospital next week and that she wanted to know how you were doing. Of course, she didn’t buy it but she didn’t laugh at my face for being such a douchebag. I mean I was keeping her with me after her work and wasting time with stupid questions painfully making it obvious that I enjoy her presence. She is bound to hate me. She finished her cold coffee taking her sweet time playing with it, making bubbles thinning my patience saying nothing in return. So, I did what I should not have done, I invited her to Emma’s baby shower which was nowhere in the picture. She stopped playing with her food saying, “I’ll talk to her. I don’t think I’ll be able to attend but I’ll try.”

My heart sank and I was too busy figuring out her why rather than mine. I wanted to drop her home but I’m sure she wouldn’t like that. I tried to keep her longer asking about the box of pills.

“Oh, that? Although I’m a doctor I work in a lab sometimes. ”, she answered without beating around the bush. Just my luck!!!

Ah! Now that makes sense , Manjiro pondered. This is the second time he was grinning wide, the first time was when you were playing with the drink. He does not seem to be aware of how handsome and approachable he looked when he smiled like that and it would be shooting an arrow in the dark if you were to tell him because he does not seem to match Emma’s description at all. She mentioned a raven-haired boy and a lot older than her, who did not have a dragon tattoo so naturally, you had a hard time putting all the puzzle pieces in place. And thanks to those who roofied your drink as well as Emma’s making everything hazy. You gave in to that thread of curiosity. You should not have, it snapped.

“Do you have an elder brother? Shinichiro. . .?”, Manjiro stopped eating his choco parfait. His obsidian eyes fell on you while his adam apple bobbed. Amidst the hustle-bustle, you could only feel his stares drilling into your soul. Manjiro clicked his tongue and left the cafe like a gust of wind. You did not realize you had held your breath until the sound of his bike faded.

A week passed and he was there again, outside your office. This time without his bike. He waved at you and exclaimed heartily, “Emma said you have a sweet tooth. So, I brought these”; it made you chuckle since if Emly had told him that you had a sweet tooth he would not have brought vanilla ice-cream cones. Still, you took it. His visits became frequent after that. Some days he would talk about his brothers: Shinichiro and Izana while sometimes about how he met the other alphas of his pack. He had so many stories. He never got tired of speaking but sometimes when you’d ask about him, his likes and dislikes he would dodge them all, every single time. There was this one time when you asked why he was visiting you, occasionally dropping by to give you gifts. He said,

“What if it was you whom they wanted to abduct? What if they still wanna harm you? What if they’re keeping tabs on your research?”, I tried to come up with every possible case just to get her reactions. y/n was very inert to my ways. I kept visiting and she did not bother to drag petty reasons like love. I liked that. I liked when she would snort in laughter every time I told about the rumors floating around about me. Thanks to Izana for filling me in on that part. I told Shinichiro about yn. He said that it was better to keep her under supervision given the fact that she was a doctor.

Sometimes, Baji would yell at me for visiting her almost every day and not going to nightclubs anymore. Draken was busy taking care of Emma, but he still managed to get on my nerves. So, did my other alphas. It was getting so hard to sneak out under their nose but I enjoyed it. I liked chasing her too. The baby shower was around the corner and hence I had to call Shin and Izana to come home days before the ceremony otherwise Emma is gonna kick me out of the house. So, I had to stop visiting her, for a while but I did not waste the time but rather put it to good use, which is gathering intel about her friendship with y/n. I managed to gather very little but at least I won’t end up buying vanilla ice-creams this time. Guess, that's not her taste.

I have never asked about her relationships or which pack she belongs to or has any alpha already claimed her. I wanted to know but I never said anything about myself so I figured I shouldn’t ask her about such personal things. There were times when I tried asking about her relationship with Emma. She mentioned that y/n was sent abroad for studies at a very young age and it was a miracle that Emma met her at the bar. Come to think of it, we met under very bad circumstances and I went to great lengths to clean all the drug routes. Mitsyua and Pah-chin handle most of it. I just had one condition, ‘no circulation of roofies on the plain bar, restaurants. Sex clubs are on the table only if it is consensual.’ I was impressed how Kisaki managed to pull this off steadily and there were fewer raids in all our bars, and casinos. So, I could not give a fuck who the snitch was. Besides, the baby shower was just tomorrow which was more important.

I was lying on the bed keeping my elbow as support. Emma was folding the dresses that I bought for the baby. I had zero ideas about such things so obviously, I dragged yn along with me. Emma did not know about this and I don’t intend on telling her since she was envious enough about how fast I became friends with her and still maintained it. I have a record of scaring girls away in the worst possible way. Emma lost some friends because of that but they were irritating. I doubt Emma would have them in the long run.

“So, she is coming right?”

“Well, you invited her. Go ask her.”,

“Tell me, is she coming on that day?”, still no answer. I poked her two times while Ken-chin mouthed, ‘stop it.’

“Nah ! tell me, Emma, Stop being a pus-ahhh…AHH…sorry sorry…”, Emma was stronger during this time. She pulled my ears, turning them beet-red, unlike other times. Draken was laughing. He always enjoyed whenever I got yelled at, especially by Emma. “I’ll ask her by myself…a.h..Ahh…Ahh”

“Hello”, you mewled. Both the sanos stopped bickering, Manjiro’s onyx eyes dilated in surprise as they fell on you. Emma wasted no time in greeting you, taking the bag from your hand. “The guy on the outside said you all will be in this room so. . .”

“Shin is here already. Fuck, why the hell he never tells me when he is coming?”, Manjiro leaped from the bed and faded into the long corridor.

“You’re just right on time yn. I’ve got a lot to talk about.”, Emma was looking breathtakingly beautiful. The last time, when you saw her she was already three months pregnant. Draken left greeting you with a smile. You noticed the folded baby clothes and were about to ask how she likes them but she started to talk about which one she would try on the baby first. You deduced that Manjiro kept mum about the shopping.

Dinner was served in the room. There was no sign of Manjiro and Draken, perhaps they were busy managing the house or were with Izana and Shinichiro. Manjiro’s pack of alphas will come tomorrow, just before the ceremony. It is indeed odd as well as surprising how a few months back you met all of them, and tomorrow you’ll be meeting them again, in a sane and stable state.

Emma guided you to a different room, where you would be staying. She would have spent the night with you, she wanted to but you insisted her to be in her alpha’s presence. You noticed a canopy bed that almost seemed new. Emma might have arranged it for you. “Oh, godddd! The bed is so beautiful, I love it so much Emma.”, you squealed in excitement ready to kick off those slippers and jump in the bed but then you asked if you could do that since that bed might be for her and Draken. She would not mind your scent but her husband might be offended about it.

Emma chuckled seeing your excitement and appreciated your sentiment. She was about to say something but then a husky voice turned up, “It’s newly made, mine. You can use it if you want yn” You blinked at Manjiro, He was leaning against the door, licking a spoon, occasionally dipping it in an ice cream tub. His eyes were switching from you and them to the ice cream tub. Whenever he dipped the spoon there was so much hollowed sound suggesting that it was empty. He just needed an excuse to talk, to tell you that he made that bed specifically for you. Last time, he did a blunder for having you in his bed like that.

“Well, good night then. See you tomorrow.”, Manjiro drawls in leaving before you could say anything. Emma smiled exclaiming with a chime, “Ummm. . .When did this happen?” You palmed your face sinking onto the bed with a thud, Emma might have failed to notice but you did; both the top of his ears was bright red.

Manjiro could not sleep a blink. Every time he closed his eyes either it was your voice, the memory of your scent, or just your angelic face. He could not just believe that you would take the offer and stay overnight just before the ceremony, which means,

She’ll be attending the baby shower. She will be there all day and I would watch her, spend more time with her. I knew I would not get any sleep if I kept thinking about my feeling for her. I was getting hungry so I decided to head downstairs. I was about to go straight back to my room but decided to take a detour. She was sleeping peacefully, tucked under covers. The moonlight fell on her body, a little bit on her face. She looked like a pearl. Omegas indeed tended to glow during their heat cycle and her beauty would prove it wrong. She always looked beautiful. I lightly grazed her cheeks with the back of my fingers. She purred tossing and turning to the other side. I sat on the edge of the bed and leaned to see her face one more time before going back to my room.

“I love you.”, Manjiro mumbled kissing yn’s forehead and leaving immediately. The morning was filled with preparations. Draken was a little relaxed to have a doctor in the house. He was with his friends. Manjiro was nowhere to be seen. You wanted to talk to him, to tell him that you’d have to leave next week since you got a job transfer. After all, you owed him your life. Everyone was there, even Shinichiro and Izana but you could not spot him anywhere. Losing all hope to have a last talk with him you had to ask Emma about him. She said that he went to visit Kisaki and Hanma to invite them, on Izana’s suggestion. It was a last-minute change and it had to be done as a social courtesy to have them on the cordial side. Emma mentioned that he was probably getting ready in his room and you need not told to be twice what to do next.

Manjiro was getting ready for the occasion when you appeared in his room. The mirror was adjacent to the door of the room and opposite his bed and hence, when you stepped into his room in a rush to have just a glimpse of him, you almost tumbled when Manjiro muttered, “Hey there!”

“Did Emma send you to get me? I told her I’ll be there in fifteen minutes. Tsk, Izana, and Shin are already there to attain the guests and my pack is too. . .”

“I came by myself.”, Manjiro stopped fidgeting with his tie. “May I ?”, you asked pointing towards his tie. It was better than looking him in the eye when you tell him about your job transfer and it would help you to focus on the talk rather than his dashing handsome aura.

“Yeah sure.”, Manjiro responded with a blink. You walked up to him taking his tie in your hand as you started to talk, “I should have said this earlier, I’m moving out…”

“Moving? Where?”, Manjiro pushed the door after pressing the lock of the door knob. You jolted at the thud yet continued, “I don’t know that yet. I’ve got only two weeks” The tie left your hand with a swish and wrapped around your waist making you cling to his body. “Yes, you should have told me about this earlier yn. I had plans ya'know ”, he murmured while his pitch black eyes stilled on your lips. You held the lapel of his suit staring at his eyes that shone like a starry night sky.

Manjiro pressed his nose against your cheeks, exhaled deeply, and slowly traced down to your neckline imbibing your scent. You did not resist. His embrace was comforting, harmless that did not reek any of the fearsome stories you had heard about him. You curled your hands around his nape whispering into his ear, “I love you too”. You could hear him gruff before he pulled away from you exclaiming with that majestic smile of his, “hmmm, any more bombs in your store to drop?” Your lips tugged up in an upward crescent as you nodded suggesting that you had none. “Perfect”, he uttered letting out a purr as he kissed your cheeks. “Manjiro. . . we’ve to go”, you murmured while his hands roamed all over your back, and waist till it ended with a squeeze of your ass making you arch into him.

“Yeah! we always have bad timing.”, was all he could state before his teeth dug into your neck. He was strong that you knew since the moment you laid eyes on him but had no idea that he would be this gentle. You have thought about it; more than once, about how rough he could be in bed, during his rut. You moaned into his ears as his hands slipped under your white floral gown. He quickly bunched up the frills pull them off you and tossed them somewhere in the room. His eyes scanned your body that was barely clad with bra and panty.

He sucked in a strong breath saying, “That’s why we need to make this quick.”, one of his hands was already holding yours above your head while the other was clamped around your waist. His lips traced all over your chest, occasionally nipping. You were squirming so much that he let go of your hands and you instantly clung to him. His fingers slipped into your panty rubbing your feminity. “You are starting to get wet. Are you on your magic pills?”, he asked pushing two of his fingers inside you with ease. It didn’t hurt you but you desperately grasped his sleeves as he started to move his fingers slowly which acted as a hindrance to your response.

“Stop, manjiro”, you huffed as he pulled away from you giving you space. “I … I can’t stand anymore. Take me to the bed.”, your breathing was so rash that it made him worry. Was he too forward in his advances? But then, a concerning issue dawned on him. The way your body reacted to him, his pheromones, you were probably still a virgin. Just to think that he would be your first made his cock twitch.

He swiftly took you in his arms, his hands under your inner thigh as your legs wrapped around his torso, your fingers skimming through his blonde strands of hair as your lips dashed on his. He chuckled at your hunger for him, breaking the kiss he threw you on his bed. You gulped as he started to discard his clothes one by one until he was naked, cock hard, and aroused. He did not feel embarrassed while your eyes roamed everywhere but not on him. You were not naked yet. The mere thought of being naked, being seen by him made you dizzy but at the same time, you couldn't wait for him to touch you, mark every inch of your body.

Manjiro towered over your body saying, “You should have told me”, his arms slipped underneath your valley of waist gripping firmly. “that you're a virgin. I don't know what academics you were taught but virgins smell different…”, you were already in his lap now, legs curled around his waist while his cock was grazing your pussy. Your cheeks swelled, and lips formed upper meniscus as you cleared your throat asking, “would that be a problem…in knotting me?”

Manjiro couldn't believe what he just heard. His ears were burning in warmth. He blinked: ONCE. TWICE. and then let out a loud trail of laughter. He thought just how much of a rush you were in that you wished to be knotted by him for the first time. But it would certainly hurt you if he didn't with how needy you’re now; at the same time, he can’t since he knew your virgin body wouldn’t be able to withstand it.

“No… yeah…maybe….”, you laughed at his confused tone. “I don't wanna sound rude but you can't take me right now.”

“I’m not on magic pills, Manjiro.”, you played with your fingertips as he flinched at your confession. It makes him swell with pride that you stopped taking those pills.

Manjiro pulled your panty aside and slid his cock inside you, slowly adjusting it up to the girth. His eyes watched you wince and gasp as he sheathed himself in you. You unclipped your bra and finally, you could look him in the eye being bare at his display. His fingers wrapped around your waistlines, gripping firmly, before making you thrust on him. Soft moans filled the room along with the squelching; squeaking of the bed.

Manjiro started to notice the increasing pressure of your nails on his back making crescent marks. He was right, you were hurting. “Hey, hey look at me”, he murmured sucking your nipples harshly so that your eyes fly back to him. “I don’t want …mmgh…rush our bonding…”, you gripped his biceps trying to move away from him, it was starting to make you weak. He was not kidding when he said that you wouldn’t be able to take him.

Your nipples were now blemished and wet. The strong breeze lit goosebumps on your skin like wildfires. “Mark me.”, Manjiro rasped quickening the pace as he felt your gummy walls clenching him.

“Whattt?”, you asked watching him with wide eyes. It is generally a symbol of ownership when an alpha marks their partners. You could not imagine exchanging marks. Manjiro’s hand slipped on your ass making you bob on him faster with broad and hefty strokes. “Please…”, he mewled.

You traced your fingers on his dragon tattoo while gasping vigorously chasing your high, your breasts rubbing his chest making your head all mushy to think straight. His lips once again clamped on your neckline while yours were on the crook of his neck. Both of you bit each other till you tasted blood. When you pulled away his peachy lips were soaked in crimson lust. You wanted to kiss him but he managed to swiftly roll you having you underneath him and pressing his lips in yours. He continued kissing while slowly gliding his cock in you, his hips bucked, thighs shuddered as your palms wrapped around his nape sucking his lips clean.

“Ah-fuck”, he growled arching as he finished inside you quickly pulling out and rolling beside you. Both of you glistened with sweat, panting and huffing, sprawling out like starfish. “Are you okay?”, he asked cupping your cheeks. You snuggled into his touch nodding, breathing still irregular. “ Do you think you can go to the party?” You looked at him trying to figure out if that was a tease or not but when you noticed his puffy pink lips you smiled saying, “Why ? are you tired only by this?” Manjiro liked his lips, rolling his tongue inside his mouth thinking about how many ways he could prove you wrong but he has a baby shower to attend.

Manjiro couldn't stop staring at you during the whole ceremony. Every time you looked at him, he was already looking at you and did not even bother to look away. Why would he? You knew he was in love with you. He didn't have to hide it from you anymore. Beside his dragon tattoo, there was another mark: your bitemark. It gleamed against the full moon night, he belonged to you now.

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@itz-rocky @tetsutits @dearmanjiro @crimsonqueen398 @cryptred @s-hyori @sierraharmony @em-plosion @akicore @zoraedits @michiphoria @fueledbysano @21-06-1996 & @tokyometronetwork

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helenazbmrskai · 3 years

Text

Black Swan (m)

Pairing – [Tattoo Artist! Namjoon x Receptionist! Reader]

Genre – [Co-Workers To Lovers AU, Tattoo Parlor AU, F2L, S, A (very tiny), Slice Of Life]

Summary – [You and Namjoon have been dancing around each other for as long as your friends knew you both. It doesn’t matter how many times they tried to get you two to confess you’re just too stubborn. Sooner or later one of you gives in to the peer pressure though.]

Warnings – [mutual pining, (tiny) jealous Joonie, needles&pain connected to the tattoo making process, (I am no professional so if my description sucks – I’m sorry!), a lot of swearing/cursing, talk about sex, horny people, pent up sexual frustration, kissing, making out, protected sex, flavoured condom, tattoo kink, vaginal fingering, sexual tension, period mention, oral (m. receiving), handjob, Exhibitionism kink, second hand embarrassment but in a cute way, noisy friends]

Word Count – [6.2k]

Author note. My first full Namjoon fic! I’m so happy that I finally got to sit down and write him. I had so much fun writing this and I got to live out my tattoo kink so here’s that. I hope you enjoy it! (Unedited but I’ll get back to reread it later so ignore mistakes lovelies.) This smut is a little less than I normally write because I’m still a little sick of it after writing that long Tae shot with werewolf sex so sorry for that!

Menu: Masterlist l Be part of my permanent taglist to recieve a notification when I upload a new fic or send an ask!

⤷ Black Swan [Series Masterlist]

You flip through the pages of your calendar, it’s a black leather notebook that your boss Namjoon gifted you last Christmas at the annual gift sharing party where all your mutual friends gather before the holidays and pull out a name from the ridiculously outdated Christmas hat and share some hard liqueur. You cherish it since then and fill it up with black ink that goes well with the shop’s aesthetics. The book was a practical choice as you use it to track the appointments the Tattoo Parlor has. There’s three tattoo artist working at Black Swan Ink Studio in total: Namjoon the owner with his two other friends and co-owners, Hoseok and Yoongi.

Namjoon is a great boss, he always greets you with a big smile in the morning and says goodbye when you clock out. He never fails to wish you a happy birthday and get you something small, you’re still using the phone case he got you the same year you applied for the receptionist job. You share desk duty with another close friend Jimin, you’re working every Monday, Tuesday and Friday while Jimin takes the rest of the days except for Sunday since the shop is closed that day.

It’s a close-knit kind of ’family’ business which can be a blessing and a pain in the ass sometimes. Especially when the boys are teasing you about your crush on Namjoon. It’s not your fault that he looks like a snack with his short hair and tattooed sleeves.

You were always fascinated by tattoos you just like how they look on someone’s skin but despite your love for the body art you never got one yourself even though you have a moodboard saved on your phone for over eight years now. Your parents never liked the thought of it, they always tell you that it's a lifelong decision that you might regret when you’re old. They don’t like that you’re working for Namjoon and have friends with too many tattoos. They live in another town so fortunately, they don’t pester you every day but you still get the occasional ’when are you getting a boyfriend’ once in every phone call with your mother. It’s gotten worse since your sister’s wedding will be held next year.

She left you a text message this morning that almost made your coffee spill all over your new knitted sweater. You knew she’s up to no good when she started with ’hi sweetheart’ and it ended with a ’you remember Hongjong from your old high school I gave him your number, get some coffee with him sometime will you?’ just like you thought, no good. You didn’t answer her yet. You arrived one minute early and normally you’re nice and cosy behind your desk at least twenty minutes before the first appointment is scheduled. Yoongi’s already having his morning coffee when you step through the door in a hurry and it throws off your whole morning routine. Heck normally you’re the one who makes it for him but today your phone charger decided to unplug in the middle of the night leaving you with a 5% battery.

”Rise and shine birdy.” Yoongi smirks under the rim of his mug his black frame glasses sitting low on his nose as he regards your dishevelled vintage look. He looks like he just rolled out of bed and knowing him for years you know that’s probably what happened.

”Namjoon is here too?” You ask while you get rid of your scarf and jacket, which you use to shield your body from the autumn that is just around the corner. You get on your tiptoe to steal a sip from his cup.

”No. Loverboy went to the bank this morning to discuss the details about the loan he wants to get on the house.”

You hum around the cup, caging Yoongi’s fingers on the mug with your own as you inhale the sweet caffeine. Right, you remember he mentioned he needs to do something in the morning. Nice. He won’t see you being a mess then. It’s half a cup later that you release Yoongi and his coffee to tidy your desk and get ready for the day.

You apply your foundation and chapstick in the bathroom after you note there’s still fifteen minutes before Yoongi’s client comes in. He and Hoseok have an 8 o’clock appointment while Namjoon is only booked for the afternoon. He asked you to clear out his morning last night because he said there’s something he needs to take care of.

You can’t say you were not curious about this sudden ’thing’ he needed to do but you were too shy to ask. Jimin was getting on your nerves too when you told him that after he came to take your place for the afternoon on Wednesday. It was your day off but Jimin couldn’t get another appointment for his eye check so you came in for a few hours that day. You did not like when he playfully said maybe Namjoon is going on a date just to rile you up. He’s been trying to make you confess for years but you always chicken out. Not to be that girl but your parents would hate him. He has tattoos and a lot of earrings if he had Jungkook’s eyebrow piercing they would straight up faint on the spot you introduce him.

You don’t know why you hear Jimin’s voice in your head saying that it’s just another excuse because you’re afraid to receive his rejection, and the Jimin in your head is totally right. Damn, you’re in deep. This is not just a silly crush now you got on your tattooed and beautiful boss.

”Hi, I’m here to see Suga for a tattoo.” You look up when you hear someone’s voice. You smile immediately and ask for her name to check the details and then tell her to wait and sit on one of the chairs next to your desk. She looks kinda nervous so after you’re done with reorganising your pencil folder you ask her to have a cup of tea with you. While you wait for the teabags to soak you pop your head behind Yoongi’s studio door and tell him that his appointment is here.

”I hope you like caramel pear tea. It always helps me relax.” She carefully takes it from you, giggling a little awkwardly.

”Am I that obvious?” You smile back with a nod. You’ve been working here for years, you always notice when someone’s here to get their first tattoo. They look around nervously either biting their lips or cleaning their sweaty palms on their jeans.

”It’s natural to be nervous. You’re braver than me, I wanted to have a tattoo since I was seventeen but I always change my mind on getting one.” The conversation seems to calm her and by the time Yoongi comes out to fetch his client she gives you a big thumbs up.

”Who knows, maybe one day you’ll get that courage.” You chuckle at her enthusiasm, she looks like a nice girl so you reciprocate her gesture and cheer her on to ’stay strong’ just like her tattoo will say after Yoongi is done doing his magic on her.

Yoongi is amused by the exchange but not surprised at all as he leads her inside his studio, you always do wonders on the people who panic in the last seconds before they get their tattoo. The door is not exactly a real door as it’s a maroon curtain to divide the studios from the lobby so you faintly hear Yoongi’s voice as he guides her through the motions step by step and soon the low buzzing fills the air.

Both boys are busy so you take your lunch break alone. You ordered from the Thai restaurant just around the corner so their delivery is super fast and cheap.

”Here’s my favourite delivery man.” Your eyes practically sparkle as the smell of your pad thai hits your nose through the plastic container Jungkook carries with one tattooed hand. He has an impressive collection of tattoos as well that you admire from time to time.

”You only say that because I have your food.” Jungkook rolls his eyes that makes his eyebrow piercing move around getting your attention as you admire how the sun shines on the metal. If you weren’t stupidly in love with Namjoon already you would want a piece of that great ass. It’s still a mystery how this boy is single.

”That’s not true! Don’t think I say this to every delivery man just because they bring me food, mister.”

Before Jungkook can say anything witty back Hoseok yells for everyone that the food is here (you curse his sharp nose) so hungry artists and clients invade the lobby and crowd around your tiny desk to get their rightful containers.

Lunch break is always chaotic so you wait on the sidelines before you can get your box. Your favourite delivery man decides to spare you a few minutes of his precious time since the business is slow right now and steals some of your pad thai while chatting with you.

”Can you believe it? She gave out my number to that bully from high school. The only purpose that I might get that coffee with him is to get a free drink out of it.”

Jungkook listens to you rant, abandoning your food as you allow yourself to get angry. In the morning you were still half asleep to fully understand your mother’s message. You make that mistake to ask for advice while he’s eating. He’s trying to tell you something but he has a big forkful of food in his mouth so all you get is rice all over your desk.

”You fucking pig.” You grab a napkin and start gently cleaning his face with it.

”I swear I feel like I am your mother or something.”

You don’t hear the bell attached to the front door chime as you’re in the middle of scolding Jungkook so you don’t see Namjoon’s eyes zero down on your hands. The gesture is coupley and intimate as you boop his nose after you’re done.

”Namjoon! How everything went with the bank?” Hoseok speaks before Namjoon could announce his arrival. His loud friend always beats him to it. You and Jungkook both greet Namjoon, he nods his head in your direction briefly before he follows Hoseok to the circular table at the corner where he and Yoongi are eating with a client that still needs some colouring to be done on his tattoo.

You frown a little as Namjoon normally is very enthusiastic about greeting you. Jungkook has an idea as he mouths ’Namjoon and Y/N sitting on a tree’ making you blush and hit his arm to hide your embarrassment. This time fortunately Namjoon can’t see as you peck Jungkook’s cheek before he packs up and leaves.

You don’t think about his lack of greeting as things fall back to place after the lunch break is over. He chats with you for a few minutes before his 2 o’clock appointment arrives. You stay until 10 today that’s when Hoseok takes his last client for a nipple piercing.

They seem to be very touchy feely with each other so you took up Hoseok on his offer and clocked out as soon as she arrived. You tell him to clean up and lock the door when he leaves. If you were blunt like Yoongi maybe you would have mentioned to him not to get any cum stains on the chair. You instead leave with a wave and a goodnight on your lips.

You’re just in time to catch the last bus. The salary is good enough to rent a two bedroom apartment, it’s nothing too fancy but it’s home. You earn more now than with your previous job in that cafe and you get to avoid rude customers even though the free coffee was pretty good. You don’t even let your mother’s sudden message sour your mood as you wash your face and listen to your favourite band before bed.

”Good Morning.” You greet Hoseok the next day, relaxed as you managed to pick up your normal schedule to arrive twenty four minutes early. You got a new charger too.

You don’t find it unusual to see his wide smile greet you back as he’s always chirpy in the morning but you have a suspicion that this good mood has to do with his last client yesterday.

”Had a fun night?” You tease him while you return his hug. He has the audacity to shyly giggle after all the naughty shit he probably did inside his studio last night but at least he doesn’t try to hide it as he nods nonetheless. You move around him to start preparing your and Yoongi’s coffee. Hoseok looks up and locks eyes with Namjoon, the former quirks a brow up he’s sure Namjoon doesn’t have an appointment until 9. So the only reason he comes in early is to see you.

Hoseok suddenly has a brilliant idea and before Namjoon could greet the both of you he steals a sugar cone from you and slips it into his tea with a smirk that will make even Yoongi proud.

”I heard you have a date today.” Namjoon goes rigid at the mention while you’re still unaware he’s here. You hum in affirmative with a scowl that Namjoon can’t see.

”That little shit. It’s Jimin’s runny mouth again?” Hoseok laughs at how angry you look. It’s cute. But you’re not wrong, Jimin is notorious for sticking his nose to everyone’s business. He bullied you until you told him why he has to take your afternoon shift. Not even your threat worked that you pulled one because of his eye check up.

Namjoon strides past the coffee station to get to his studio uttering a half hearted ’Morning’ and just by that reaction Hoseok knows that his little plan is working like an oiled machine.

Your morning is dull. The boys are booked all day and you’re just checking in and out patrons. Usually, Namjoon sneaks out to chat with you even if all he can do is a few minutes of small talk but today he’s stubbornly staying inside his studio not giving you the time of the day. It makes you sad. Hoseok and Yoongi notice it during your lunch break, hell even Jungkook notices that you’re down in the dumps.

You’re stalling before Namjoon’s studio, it’s four and you need to get to the coffee shop by 4:30, you hear the comforting buzz coming from the tattooing machine so you know he’s inside. All you have to do is stick your head in and say your goodbyes but you’ve been obsessing over the fact if he perhaps overheard Hoseok asking about your date and you don’t want him to think that you’re serious about that guy.

Yoongi watches you from a distance like you’re his favourite soap opera’s female protagonist only the popcorn is missing from his hands. Rather than helping you out, he observes both your and Namjoon’s stupidity sitting at the front row. He long ago stopped trying to beat some sense into your thick skull and Namjoon is no better. It’s so obvious that you’re disgustingly in love with each other but no one dares to make the first move.

You nod to yourself and take a big inhale of air, this is you gathering the last pieces of your courage.

”Joon, I’ll go now Jimin will be here soon.” You thank the heavens that your voice doesn’t crack. You forgot how good he looks while he’s working. He’s wearing a simple black t-shirt that lets you look at his tattoos so beautifully moulding into his arm, his biceps flexing as he uses the paper towel to clean the skin from the access ink.

Namjoon can’t see you drooling over his body as he doesn’t even look up, he concentrates on the tattoo with his tongue slightly poking out to wet his lips for a second and you don’t want to be that girl but you’re about to wet your cotton panties just alone from that tiny gesture.

”Sure. See you tomorrow.”You try to hide your disappointment when he leaves it at that not that it matters, he won’t even look at you. You murmur a goodbye not even trying to hide your pout anymore. Fuck Jimin and fuck Hoseok. Namjoon now is ignoring you.

”Bye Yoongs.” The boy is not phased to hear you not so cheerfully say goodbye. However, he calls out to you before you could get your jacket and scarf. Damn this date-but-not-date too. You just want to go home and eat some ice cream in your warm apartment.

”Put the location in my phone just in case.” Your heart warms up at the gesture. You type in the cafe’s address and flash him a genuine smile before you step out.

It’s been. What? Fifteen minutes? But it’s the longest fifteen minutes of your life. At least you know that who was once a jerk always stays a jerk. Hongjong came ten minutes late and he had the balls to criticise your clothing telling you that it’s not ’sexy’ or shit. How dare he? Not that you came here to impress him. You’re here because your mother insisted that you show up. Well, you showed up. When it’s socially acceptable to leave though?

On top of that, your stomach started to hurt after that mini tart. At first, you thought that it’s because it was too sweet and you didn’t have as much for lunch as usual because you had a foul mood as Namjoon decided to avoid you. It took one trip to the bathroom to realise it’s that time of the month. You frantically searched inside your bag to check the calendar on your phone. How could you forget about your period? Can this day be any worse? You’re glad you have some emergency tampons in your bag for occasions like this, at least you don’t have to do a walk of shame. You don’t feel an ounce of guilt when you tell Hongjong to go fuck himself and never contact you again. It’s not that he looked too bothered as he was flirting with the girl behind the counter when you got back.

You’re too embarrassed to tell the guys what happened so you only uttered a small ’meh’ when they asked how your date went. It’s a little bit better with Namjoon though.

He looked at you and even asked about your plans for the weekend. It’s such a loss that you couldn’t soak in your interactions like you normally do because your stomach was killing you.

It’s your day off and you’re having a sweatpants and tanktop kind of day when Jungkook surprises you with a sudden visit.

”Pizza delivery for Miss L/N Y/N.” The boy smiles at you with his signature bunny smile, the smell of freshly baked pepperoni pizza is making your mouth water so you open the door wider for him to enter.

”Oh my god, I love you.” It’s probably the hormones talking but you could kill for that pizza with extra cheese. He sure knows the way to your heart. Jungkook helps you get the plates from the upper shelves and offers you a slice before you eat his fingers instead. This time you tell him about your horrible date in detail and he immediately clutches his hand in fists ready to hunt him down and give him a good ol’ beating.

”Show me a picture of this guy, me and the boys will pay him a visit. I’m sure Namjoon will join even though he preaches about his no violence policy.” You groan when he mentions Namjoon. Jungkook is lost what’s with your reaction but it’s better that way.

You’ve been trying to get him out of your head since yesterday. You never liked rain but maybe you should reconsider as he looked so fucking good while drenched by the sudden downpour. He must have started going to the gym because you don’t remember he was that buff. Now that you’re on your period you’re horny as fuck for that man candy.

Dear Diary, it’s day three and Namjoon is wearing that sexy black t-shirt again with some dark denim jeans. Yoongi has been trying to get through you for a while, unsuccessful not to mention.

”Namjoon took off his shirt, Y/N look.” You look around you yelling ’fuck, where?’ but you soon realise that he tricked you. You don’t appreciate him playing with your feelings like that so you jab him in the ribs. You grab one more candy from the glass bowl that’s for clients but since you started your period all you want is to eat and fuck Namjoon’s brains out, and sleep and…wait. No, Y/N, don’t think about him. This is work you can fantasise about him as soon as you clock out.

”You seriously need some good dicking Y/N. I’ve been calling your name forever. Either fuck him or fucking get over him.” You know Yoongi means well but you take full offence. It’s not that easy. How can you tell that he likes you like that? What if you’re wrong and things get awkward between you and you have to search for another job and you can never hang out with the guys again because you fucked up. Yoongi can tell by the look on your face that you’re spiralling so he places a hand on your shoulder.

”Y/N, he likes you. It’s been what? Three years that you’ve been pining over him?” It’s three years and five months but you stop yourself from correcting him. Yoongi knows that you’re on your period because you always get unnecessarily emotional plus he took out the trash and saw the package of the medicine you take for your cramps.

This is why he wraps an arm around you willingly when you suddenly hug him.

You hear Namjoon thank a client but since it’s Yoongi you don’t pull away from the hug and even pull him closer.

”Thanks Yoongs, you’re the best.” You smile when Yoongi pats your head and takes his coffee. Which is why he was calling your name to know if you already put sugar in his cup or not.

”Hey, Y/N. Everything’s alright?” There’s this fuzzy feeling inside your chest when you hear the worry in his voice. Namjoon approaches you right after Yoongi left. A hug can’t hurt, right? You move before you could give this a second thought. He smells so good. Even if you die in his arms right now you will be a happy woman.

”I’m just having a bad day I guess?” It takes a minute before Namjoon can discern your words as you muffle them into his shirt. Through his concern, he doesn’t think about how close you two are or how his hands hold you a tad bit tighter around your waist.

Hoseok glares from behind you when Namjoon stays silent. It took him a week to give him enough courage to ask you out to dinner and he’s still waiting for the right moment to drop this bomb on you. It’s the chicken in him but maybe because you’re in a bad mood. Maybe he should try another day? Hoseok is having none of that though.

”Namjoon wants to ask something.” You look up then, you didn’t realise Hoseok is here too.

”Uh, right. Do you mind if we go into my studio for that?” You nod, can’t say you’re not intrigued to find out what he wants to ask you that makes him this nervous. You swear you see a drop of sweat roll down his neck. There’s hope in your gaze but you quickly dismiss it. There’s no way he wants that, right?

You sit down at the chair that normally his clients occupy. Now that you’re put in the perspective maybe you do gather the courage to get a tattoo eventually.

”So I was wondering if you-” You feel bad as he coughs into his fist awkwardly like he’s gathering his scattered thoughts but you would feel even worse if you interrupt him now so you wait and listen.

”I mean It’s your day off tomorrow and I took the day off too so I was wondering if you perhaps want to go to dinner with me?”

Namjoon looks up sheepishly waiting for your ultimate rejection as the silent minutes pass by but you’re just having a hard time processing what he tries to imply with his clumsy wording. You two are so caught up in your little bubble that neither of you realises that Hoseok and Yoongi spies on you two. Yoongi silently facepalms when Namjoon starts stuttering.

”I-It’s totally fine if you don’t! I mean I will understand if you want to say no. Shit. I’m sorry I shouldn’t have-”

Hoseok and Yoongi are ready to intervene to prevent any more of this disaster from happening under their watch when you surprise everyone inside the Tattoo Parlor and shut Namjoon up with a kiss. It’s nothing wonderful, fireworks are not popping behind your eyelids as you press your lips against him but in its own weird way, it feels nice with his goldfish eyes openly staring at you and body frozen.

”You can’t be this stupid. Kiss the fuck her back!” Yoongi clearly lost his patience as he observes his friend make a complete fool out of himself. Namjoon melts into your touch for only a moment before he pulls back and blushes all the way to his ears. Hoseok giggles while holding onto Yoongi’s shoulders.

”Get the fuck out.” You yell at the boys. They leave the room one by one but just after they teased Namjoon a bit more about his stuttering. You shake your head fondly at them as it’s their childish way to tell the both of you that they’ve been waiting for this moment for so long.

”I want to.” You cup his face to only focus on you. ”I will be the happiest girl if you take me out to dinner.”

This time Namjoon fully melts between your arms and one of the biggest smiles you’ve seen on his face so far graces your eyesight.

”Ok. Great. Fuck. I’ll pick you up at 8? Is 8 alright with you?” You chuckle at how he seems to be so uncertain still even though you accepted his dinner date invitation.

”Perfect. It’s a date then.” You peck his cheek sweetly before you stand. If you remember it correctly he’ll have another appointment approximately in two minutes, you need to check him in and Hoseok will have another piercing appointment in five. You can yell like an excited school girl about your date with Namjoon later when you’re inside your apartment. You’re so going to ask advice from Jungkook what to wear.

It’s surreal that Namjoon finally asked you out. You don’t want to say it but Yoongi and Hoseok were right. Hell, even Jungkook was right. You have to ignore their knowing smirks for the remainder of your shift, they even called Jimin to tell him about your date tomorrow. He chatted your ear off for hours before you had to check out Yoongi’s last appointment.

He offered to help you pick out your outfit so you, Jimin and Jungkook were currently rummaging through your closet touching clothes that are so old that even a spider crawled out of it. Truly horrifying. Jimin almost pushed you off the bed to sacrifice you but Jungkook decided to be the bigger person and released the creature (see: yeeted it out through your window) so you guess everything went according to plan.

”Fuck, I have nothing to wear.” You whine as it’s the second time the boys are going through your clothes. You’re confused when Jimin pats your head and tells you he needs to get something from his car but you roll with it. To occupy yourself you make some hot chocolate for Jungkook.

”I knew that this will happen so I went ahead and got this cute dress for you.” You’re so touched that you swear that tears are gathering behind your eyelids without you realising. Maybe it’s the aftermath of your period. Jimin lets you envelop him in a bone crushing hug and hugs you back just as tight. It’s only now that the fact sinks in that you’re going on a date with Namjoon. The boy you’ve been pining after for forever as Yoongi would say.

After you get a message from Yoongi with a simple worded ’get that dick’ you’re good to go.

If you thought before that Namjoon is a snack you haven’t seen him in a white shirt and jeans. You wish his tattoos would be on display though. He treats you like a real gentleman, opens the car door for you and asks you how your day off went. You tell him that you’ve been hanging out with Jungkook and Jimin and watched some Netflix.

”I hope it’s ok. I don’t know if you wanted a fancy restaurant or something like that but we can still go if you want to?” Your smile reaches ear from ear as you see your favourite diner come into view. You told him too many times that you like their chicken salad but they don’t do delivery. It’s not like you would ditch Jungkook for some fancy salad.

”This is so much better. I don’t need to eat at a pricy restaurant. All I need is you.”

You realise later what you said might sound too cheesy but Namjoon doesn’t seem to mind your honesty.

You order your favourite Chicken salad with a strawberry milkshake and Namjoon gets a burger with cola. It’s perfect. The food is great, the conversations are easy, varying between work and family. You already know a lot about each other as Namjoon was your friend first but you like this kind of change in your relationship.

Namjoon goes full out complimenting your dress, holding your intertwined fingers on the table when you finished eating. You decide on getting some ice cream for dessert.

”I had a really good time tonight Joonie.” The nickname makes his heart flutter. If he’s being honest with himself he doesn’t want to end the night here so he tightens his hold on your hands and pulls you back to sit inside his car again. He asks if you would like to watch a movie together at his place and you immediately say yes.

”The boys will never let us live this down.” You giggle, your attention is more on Namjoon than on the movie. You trace his throat with your lips feeling Namjoon stiffen at the contact. You’re halfway laying on him with one hand on his muscular thigh, inhaling the sweet scent of his cologne.

”Oh. I’m sure this is what we will hear even on our wedding day knowing those guys.” Namjoon feels your smile pressed against his skin, he’s having a hard time hiding his semi while you press yourself to him like that. You don’t stop there as you start caressing his inner thighs getting dangerously close to his growing erection.

”I know it’s our first date but can we fuck? I’ve been waiting to have you for three years.” Your bluntness makes Namjoon almost choke on his saliva but otherwise can’t argue with you on that. He’s been waiting a long time too and he’s adamant about showing you.

”Three years and five months.” He corrects that reminds you of something similar you said. You smile into his kiss.

You’re on your knees before Namjoon could utter another word, his pupils are dilated and full of lust for you. He shudders when you slip your small hand under the waistband of his jeans and palms him over his boxers. The familiar dampness is already there telling you that he’s been aroused for a while. The fact that Namjoon wants you as much as you want him makes you giddy. You can’t help but act like a horny teenager and get rid of his clothes as soon as humanly possible.

His cock immediately slaps against his stomach that makes your man blush like a virgin. You smile wickedly as you wrap your fingers around the base of his cock letting your spit travel down his shaft before you start to pump him slowly, listening to the low moan he lets out. He looks out of this world, a moaning mess under you as you play with his dick.

”Want your tattooed hand grab my hair and make me take your cock. Please Joonie. I want you so bad.” Namjoon’s eyes snap open when you tell him what to do. His fingers are in your hair before you could open your mouth to beg again instead your mouth opens to take his cock into your mouth. You moan around him as soon as you taste his salty precum on your tongue. He eases you into the motions pushing your head down his length a little more with each bob of your head.

Once he’s close he pulls you off, his fingers in your hair tight as he tries to control himself. Namjoon watches you with hunger as you clean your face off of his precum and your own spit. It’s nothing like the first awkward kiss you shared inside his studio with two of his coworkers watching, this kiss is tongue and teeth as he devours you.

”Fuck me. On this couch.” You think he didn’t hear you for a second because he continues to kiss you but then you feel his hand pull down your pants, finding the soaked material of your panties. You find leverage gripping his wide shoulders whining pathetically when he slips the material to the side and gives you two of his fingers. As impatient to feel you as you are. You’re so soaked that his fingers slide in easily filling the quiet apartment with loud squelches.

”Fuck I’m so glad Yoongi persuaded me to buy condoms before our date.” Your chuckle turns into a moan when he finds your spot. It’s hard to think when he fingers you this good but even if it feels like heaven you know what would feel even better.

”He messaged me to get that dick so that’s what I’m going to do.” Your legs are wobbly as you lay down on the couch, Namjoon not far behind as he strokes his cock with the hand that was inside you. You help him open the package and pull the thin rubber over his length using your mouth, hmm, strawberry, your favourite flavour.

”So tight, fuck. This is the best pussy I’ve ever had.” You like the sound of that. Loving the feeling even more as he pushes into you slowly not stopping until you take him in entirely.

Considering how you two jumped each other’s bones before Namjoon fucks you slow and deep. Mesmerized by your sparkling eyes as you watch him disappear in you. He learns another thing about you today. As your friend, he leant that you like two sugar and a drop of milk in your coffee but as your lover, he leant that you like to watch him fuck you. You get off on the visual of him all marked up by your long nails and Namjoon tells you his fantasy about fucking you on his work chair inside Black Swan. You don’t find it weird that he wants to fuck you against the window with the possibility of someone seeing who’s making you feel this good.

He wants to show the boys at work with his purple hickeys all over your neck and breasts that you’re finally his.

He’s never letting you go again.

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pippytmi · 3 years

Note

16 + 4 + 2 (werewolf supercorp?)

It is not uncommon for Kara to wake up in a puddle of blood.

At this point she is immune to the shock that comes with it, really. She has adapted; knows all the best tricks to get stains out of her clothes, knows all the best laundromats that don’t ask any questions. Heck, she even has Alex’s ex-girlfriend on speed dial, just in case there is a freak chance the blood Kara wakes up in might be human (it has not happened yet, knock on wood).

But there are other parts that still take some getting used to. Like, for example, the loss of memory that comes with every night of the full moon. Because yeah, she understands why she wakes up in a pool of blood. What she doesn’t understand is why this time around she wakes up in a pool of her own blood, and in so much pain that it hurts to open her eyes.

“Ow,” Kara whispers to herself, twisting onto her side with a groan. Her clothes are gone—no surprise—but even as she is laying down on the cold, rocky forest floor, the only thing she can focus on is how much her head hurts. She’s dealt with branch scratches, sore legs and arms, the occasional plethora of bug bites, but never a headache. Her one comfort is that at least she has made it into the backyard of Sam’s cabin. It takes a considerable amount of strength to push herself up off the ground; walking is going to be much harder than anticipated.

If Alex saw her now, she'd—well first she would hit Kara over the head and yell at her about being dumb, but afterwards she would snicker. And probably hit her over the head again for good measure.

“Oh my God—!”

Okay, it’s official. Kara is now dead. Even if the stranger gawking at her is not the one who kills her, Alex definitely will.

And it’s that thought that makes Kara drop right back down on the floor, knocking the wind right out of her lungs, and she groans into the dirt pitifully.

“Oh, fuck,” the stranger whispers, almost as if to herself, scrambling to come to Kara’s side. “Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck this shit. Fuck!” Said stranger belatedly claps a hand over her mouth, green eyes widening in horror. “Holy shit, are you alive?”

Kara pitifully rests her cheek against the ground and tries not to look too offended. “Uh, kind of,” she replies. (So this must not be Sam’s cabin, then.) “Sorry. Am I in your yard? It is a very nice yard. Five stars.”

“No, it’s not my—I’m house-sitting,” the woman explains, though she is giving Kara a look that says really? That’s what you want to focus on right now?

“Well, it’s still a nice place,” Kara says, because she is polite and small talk is always a good thing to fall back on when you’re naked on a pile of dead leaves. “Wait, I don’t suppose you’re house-sitting for Sam, are you? Sam Arias, super tall, has a daughter who is freakishly good at checkers?”

Stranger-who-swears-like-a-sailor frowns. “How do you know Sam?” she asks suspiciously.

“She dated my sister. It was a whole—it’s a thing,” Kara says. “You know?”

“Wait. Are you Kara? Are you Alex’s sister?”

“Yes! So you do know!” Kara would grin if her face were capable of any emotion besides mind-shattering pain. “Then you must be Sam’s friend…uh, bear with me…Lena? Or Jess?”

“Lena,” says the woman, still notably wary, so Kara makes the decision to wiggle until she can prop herself up her elbows and look less, well, like a corpse.

“Hey, got it in one!” Kara says as cheerfully as she can muster. “Well, it’s nice to meet you. And can I just—uh, say—that you don’t have to worry. I won’t die here or anything. I know you would obviously be the number one suspect for murder and it wouldn’t be nice of me to put you through that.”

“…right. Never mind that you would be dead, or anything.” Lena begins to shakily unbutton her coat like a woman possessed, as if her doubt has morphed entirely into concern now that she has confirmation the freak naked in Sam’s backyard is not an entire stranger. “Here, this is long enough to cover you. Do you—do you need help getting up?”

“No, no, I’ve got it, thank you,” Kara insists, and gradually, she manages; she shifts sideways and then tentatively onto her butt, and accepts the coat when it’s all but thrown at her face. There is blood mixed in with the leaves and general guck beneath her, and she winces at the sight. “I’ll come back and clean this later,” she’s quick to add, and Lena frowns in response.

“Are you serious? Forget cleaning, you need—stitches, at the very least. I can take you to the hospital if—”

“Oh no, you don’t have to do that!” Kara blurts out, and with the adrenaline from that burst of energy she’s able to scramble to her feet. She is shaky, unsteady, but she manages to stay upright at least and she’ll count that as a win. “Shoot. I’m sorry for yelling. I just—no hospitals. I can’t do hospitals.” She has never had to form an excuse for this, and her mouth can’t quite wrap around the right words.

But Lena—green eyes wide and unsure, skin pale in the early morning light—nods, like she understands. “Okay,” she says. “No hospitals.”

“Thanks,” Kara mumbles, wrapping the coat tightly around herself. There are startling black spots in her vision and her head still feels like it was used as a piñata; she wonders what the heck her next move should be now. If Sam needs someone to house-sit, she must be out of the city. And if Sam is out of the city, Kara can’t exactly waltz into Sam’s house to wash all the blood off her body (and then call up Alex from the couch while stealing whatever ice cream Ruby picked). Sam lets her do that, sure, but that’s Sam. It would be pretty rude to do that when Lena is right here.

“Do you…” And Lena pauses, nose scrunching up as if something has just occurred to her. “I can give you a ride somewhere else, if you’d like. Back to your house?”

“No, that’s okay,” Kara hurries to decline, because how can she really explain that she lives in an apartment, and that if little old Mrs. Jensen saw her coming up covered in blood she’d finally succumb to her third heart attack? “Can I just use Sam’s phone to call my sister? Then I’ll come right back out here, I promise.”

“Why would you come back out here again?” Underneath her coat, Lena is wearing plaid pajama pants that are rolled at the ankle (Sam’s, most likely), and a tank top that is extremely fitted. Very, very well fitted. Like, you-can-tell-it’s-frigidly-cold-outside-kind-of-fitted.

Kara coughs and tries not to let on how her train of thought has twisted. “Because…I’m a stranger?” she tries. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Remember, if you die I’m going to be the first one they question,” Lena says, tilting her head expectantly in the direction of Sam’s cabin. “Come inside, warm up. Call your sister.” All things considered, she is far more concerned than Kara expected her to be—as if, somehow, ridding herself of the weirdo walking around bloody and probably concussed isn’t the very first thing on Lena’s mind.

So Kara doesn’t look a gift horse in the mouth; she accepts the offer. It’s a small comfort that if she really does get murdered by a total stranger, it won’t be while cold and naked.

Lena goes right into Sam’s room the instant they go inside, already gathering a million outfits for Kara to pick through. “The shower is fickle, but it does have hot water,” she says, adding a towel to the pile in Kara’s arms when she re-emerges. “You just have to—”

“Hit the wall twice, and give it a few seconds,” Kara finishes. “Yeah, Sam reminds me every time.”

“So you…visit Sam often, do you?”

“Uh.” And suddenly, despite the long, cold night she’s had, the air indoors feels a bit warmer than is comfortable. “Only sometimes.” Once a month, Kara thinks, and Lena crosses her arms and just stares.

Really stares, dragging those sharp green eyes up and down Kara’s whole body. Squints at the scratches on her face, scrunches her nose at the way Kara awkwardly shifts from side to side. Finally Lena speaks, and it’s only to say, “It’s you, isn’t it?”

“...come again?”

“It’s you. Sam told me she’s been helping out a friend with a—furry predicament—”

If it were possible to choke on air, Kara would be dead right now. “Did she really call it furry? But she’s also—!” She has to pause, now, because she feels an urge to clarify, “Wait. Are we talking about the same thing right now?”

Lena narrows her eyes slightly. “You mean talking about how you’re a werewolf?”

“Oh!” Head lighter, Kara sucks in a laugh that makes her ribs feel like they are splintering open. “Then yes. That’s good, I didn’t want you to think I was a—anyway. I didn’t think Sam told anyone.”

“Sam and I have been friends for a long time,” Lena says slowly. A beat. “She actually ate my hamster once.”

Kara winces. “Recently?”

“No! Back in the fifth grade,” Lena frowns, like she might’ve added dumbass at the end of the sentence. “I’m a grown woman. I don’t own hamsters.”

“What? Come on, having pets isn’t just a kid thing,” Kara says. “I used to have a cat, but he…”

“Oh my God, you ate him?”

Kara’s jaw drops. “What—no! He turned out to already have an owner, so she took him back. He just liked to wander into my apartment.” She hugs the clothing pile tighter to her chest, and tries her hardest to scowl. “I’m responsible, okay? Most of the time. I’m not dangerous.”

“Except to deer, or rabbits, or whatever else you killed last night?” Lena quirks an eyebrow, but surprisingly not in a manner that’s judge-y. Just…curious.

“Right,” Kara says defeatedly, and her head throbs enough that her grip on Sam’s clothes begins to falter. “Sorry. I wasn't trying to be defensive or anything.”

“That's alright.” And stranger still, Lena reaches out to gently touch the side of Kara’s head. “So does the same thing happen to you?”

“Huh?” The proximity has scrambled Kara’s brain momentarily, and she finds herself unthinkingly holding her breath.

“Do you also black out,” Lena clarifies. “Like Sam does, every time she shifts.”

“Oh. Yeah, I’m pretty sure it’s—a universal wolf thing,” Kara says.

Lena hums, and her hand retracts. “And are you a serial killer in wolf form?”

“Uh, I hope not? I’m pretty sure all this is…” Kara gestures over her body with one hand, still hugging the pile of clothes with the other. “Not human.”

“Okay.” Lena casually walks away, but pauses to throw over her shoulder, “I’ll help you clean up your head once you’re out of the shower. I’ve helped Sam a hundred times.”

“Are you—do you have some kind of healing magic, or—”

“Close. I’m an ER nurse,” Lena says amusedly, and when she smiles a dimple emerges on one cheek. “All the witches I know have fled the city, so I’m afraid you’re stuck with me.”

“You joke, but Alex dated this witch once, and she hexed my sister to spill her first sip of coffee every time she went to take a drink for three weeks straight after they broke up,” Kara says, and Lena again scrunches her nose in that quizzical way.

“Seriously? Witches are real too?”

“Duh,” Kara says lightly. “What, you thought it stopped at werewolves? Please. I’m pretty sure the neighbor two doors down is a gorgon.”

“Well, it would explain her fondness of statues,” Lena says, strangely nonplussed. “I’ve never asked, but I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised at this point. How do you take your coffee?” As she asks, Lena deposits a few fingers of whiskey into a mug, and at Kara’s questioning look says, “Sorry, we’re all out of painkillers. This is as good as you’re going to get.”

“Maybe I’ll do better if it’s straight,” Kara says, unable to hide her grimace, while Lena shrugs a shoulder as if to say it’s your funeral.

So after Kara showers, she sits on the couch and sips gross whiskey out of a chipped mug that reads World’s Best Mom in bright pink letters. Lena has turned on the TV to the local news station—clearly she has stayed with Sam before—and a man on screen is recounting a tale of how he hit a giant wolf strolling too close to his farm with a baseball bat.

“If I had my shotgun I would’ve killed the fucker,” he swears, red in the face, and above her Lena gives a little scoff.

“What a dick,” Lena says, her hand steadily stitching up the wound on Kara’s scalp, and her voice has a hint of an accent; it’s really cute, actually, and Kara doesn’t even mind that the next poke of the needle is sharper than the others.

It is the strangest morning Kara has ever had. Drinking whiskey before eight in the morning, with a kind stranger who she’s barely met but is suturing her skin together, who smells faintly of lavender soap and strong black coffee.

“—National City is not safe when wolves are wandering close to homes—”

The scent of rich hot chocolate bubbling on the stove is beginning to fill the room, the ancient pipes are rumbling throughout the walls, and Lena’s fingers are soft against her head. Kara closes her eyes and decides that she will wait a little longer before she calls Alex to pick her up.

#i tried my best but tbh i dont know much of werewolf lore ? so i tried to go w/these two being soft #& autumn vibes of course #supercorp #supergirl #i need a fic tag #writing a meet messy is HARD idk how to make them cute !!

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soenchantingly · 2 years

Text

masterlist post.

welcome to my writing blog ! i am josie and i am currently writing quite a few fics. they are mainly reader insert fics. if you are interested in any of them, please check out the masterlist below.

✧ ⋆｡˚ HELIOPHILIA - tumblr post & archive of our own.

Heliophilia (n.) desire to stay in the sun; love of sunlight.

This is a collection of short stories following an overarching plot with a daughter of apollo as the main character. It is an eventual Percy Jackson/Reader that where I basically insert the reader into events as they take place in Percy Jackson and the Olympians, Heroes of Olympus and maybe more stories.

current status: writing installment 8.3.

✧ ⋆｡˚ HEATHENS - tumblr post & archive of our own.

The drug dealer playboy, the stoic sexually-confused teenager, and the insecure party girl - makes for a good combination, doesn't it? Kenny McCormick, Craig Tucker, and [ First Name ] [ Last Name ] have been best friends since their freshman year. Now that the final half of senior year approaches, the three are confronted with the harsh realities of life in South Park, Colorado. Desperately trying to get money, Kenny finds himself in morally questionable situations that starts to take a toll on his mental health - which doesn't matter as long as it benefits his little sister's brighter future, right? Despite never showing his emotions and insecurities, Craig Tucker is in an inner turmoil concerning his sexuality - but if he ignores his feelings, they'll go away right? [ First Name ] [ Last Name ] never expected to fall in love with her best friend - might as well make a series of bad decisions to distract herself from the devastating truth that he doesn't feel the same way, right? Spoiler alert: they were wrong

current status: writing chapter five.

✧ ⋆｡˚ TOUJOUR PUR - tumblr post & archive of our own.

Toujour Pur (french) always pure.

"Always pure, that is the Black Family motto, right? These words will not refer to blood purity anymore. From now on, these words will refer to morality. I am starting a new chapter in the history of the House of Black."

Toujour Pur follows the daughter of Sirius Black as she navigates being a member of the House of Black, having a fugitive father, being an ambitious Hogwarts student who is a bit of a perfectionist, and being completely and utterly in love with her best friend George Weasley. . .

The story takes place from The Goblet of Fire onwards. The reader is in their fifth year at Hogwarts, one year above the Golden Trio and one year below the Weasley Twins.

All the credit goes to their respectful owners!

current status: writing chapter three.

✧ ⋆｡˚ STELLATE - tumblr post & archive of our own.

Stellate (adj.) arranged in a radiating pattern like that of a star.

This is a collection of short stories following an overarching plot within the tv show the 100. It is an eventual Bellamy Blake/Reader that where I basically insert the reader into events as they take place in the 100.

current status: writing installment 3.

✧ ⋆｡˚ STORIES IN THE WORKS

i. untitled finnick odair fic ( the hunger games trilogy ).

click here if you wish to be on my taglist !

credit for the pictures goes to lulu.

#my writing

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ncssian · 3 years

Text

A Favor: Part Twenty-Nine

Nessian Modern AU

Masterlist

a/n: not an ending, but a middle.

this chapter was ridiculously difficult to write and edit. it tops out at 7.5k words so… beware

***

Cassian and Nesta make full use of the summer house without his friends there, making love on every other surface just because they’re all alone and they can. Nesta shows a soft spot in particular for having sex in Cassian’s old bed, proving to him that she can be just as sentimental as he is.

Which is how they end up sprawled naked on the living room floor early the next morning, fast asleep in each other’s arms with nothing but a throw blanket to cover them.

Cassian is woken up by the sound of the front door being flung open, followed promptly by a feminine yelp as the intruder catches sight of the tangled couple in the living room. “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.”

Cassian whips his head up to find who interrupted his sleep, and his nostrils flare in shock when he sees Mor at the entryway. He carefully but swiftly moves his arm out from under Nesta’s head and replaces it with a nearby pillow before starting to stand up. “What the hell are you doing—”

“Fuck no, I can see your ass—No, now I can see your dick!” Mor squeals in disgust, promptly spinning around and clapping her hands over her eyes like she can burn the image out of her mind.

“Will you shut the fuck up?” Cassian whisper-hisses at her, throwing a worried glance at Nesta’s still sleeping form. She doesn’t shift an inch.

Scooping up his flannel sleep pants from the floor, Cassian pulls them on while Mor makes gagging noises with her back to him.

Spying a pair of underwear flung over the arm of a chair, she bends to pick them up with two pinched fingers and turns to face Cassian, who’s now appropriately covered. Heavy judgment wrinkles her nose as she casts a glance to the owner of the panties, then to Cassian. “Granny panties, Cass? Is this what your sex life has been reduced to?”

“Don’t touch Nesta’s underwear.” He stalks over to Mor and snatches them out of her hand, before grabbing her by the elbow and dragging her off into the kitchen.

She shakes him off once they’re out of earshot from Nesta and takes a seat across from him at the wooden breakfast table. She brushes her golden hair over a shoulder and smirks. “Someone’s been having fun on their own while waiting for the rest of the party to arrive.”

“What are you doing here?” Cassian repeats.

Mor waves a languid hand dismissively. “I ended up taking a commercial flight. I wasn’t a fan of being stuck on the same private plane as Az and Elain.”

Cassian blows out a tight breath, wishing he’d at least gotten some warning before his plans for the day were ruined. Plans that included taking Nesta in the lake before breakfast.

“But seriously,” Mor glances over her shoulder in the direction of the living room, “what’s up with the prude panties? I thought you would’ve thawed that ice pussy by n…” She trails off at the look on Cassian’s face, and a glimpse of fear crosses her own face. She forces a nervous laugh and twists her fingers together. “I suddenly remember making a promise a while ago,” she murmurs while staring down at the table.

“It’s a good thing you remember,” Cassian says stoically, “because I was just about to bring it up.”

“I know, I know, no criticizing your girlfriend.” Mor rolls her eyes.

“It’s about a lot more than that,” he grits. “It’s about how you’re only wary of her because you don’t trust me to choose who I give my love to. It’s about how you don’t respect my decision enough to maintain boundaries when you talk about Nesta.”

For once, Mor looks put off her game. “I never meant it like that,” she tries to say.

“That’s what it looks like,” Cassian retorts. “It looks like you’re judging someone you have no right to judge, like you’re trying to protect me from an imaginary threat.”

Mor coughs aloud. “Do I really need a scolding for a girl I see maybe twice a year? I haven’t even thought about Nesta since the New Year’s party.”

“It’s not a scolding,” Cassian says firmly. “It’s an order to be on your best behavior for the duration of this vacation, because the sisters and I went through a lot to get Nesta to come here. There will be no catfights, or backtalk, or rude looks and snide tones until we’ve returned home. The same applies for everyone else once they get here.”

“Or, how about this? I’ll stop making ice pussy jokes if you stop being this…” Mor waves a hand up and down at Cassian’s shirtless figure with a grimace, “unrecognizable creature with the tension of a forty year old single dad.”

Is Cassian tense? Of course he’s fucking tense. The last time he convinced Nesta to go to a family event with him was Christmas Eve, and he’s never letting that mistake be repeated ever again. His glare confirms it.

“Morrigan,” he says lowly with a hint of warning.

“Okay, okay,” she exclaims, throwing her hands up in surrender. “But for the record, I’ve never said anything rude to your girlfriend’s face, and I never plan to.”

Cassian crosses his brown arms across his chest. “No, you’ve only done it to my face.”

Guilt crosses Mor’s features for the quickest second. “Oh.” She bites her bottom lip. “In that case, I’ll pull back from now on.”

He releases a terse breath. “Good.” Now to hammer the message into anyone else who might threaten the quiet solitude he and Nesta have found here.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” she adds somewhat apologetically. “You know I just want the best for you.”

“And you know I already know what’s best for me.”

Mor dips her head in reluctant acknowledgment. “Can we go back to normal, then? I don’t like feeling like your adversary.”

Cassian’s shoulders slump in relief, and his crossed arms fall away. “Of course, Mor.”

Like flipping a switch, Mor claps her hands together. “Good. I left my luggage in the rental car and it’s super heavy; I brought enough clothes for three outfit changes a day. Why don’t you put those big strong muscles to work while I get settled into my room?”

Before Cassian can object, she’s out of her seat and flouncing out of the kitchen. From the entry hall, Cassian can hear Mor say perkily, “Good morning, Nesta! Love the undies.”

Cassian drops his head onto the table with a thud, lifts it, then drops it again. Mor is going to be a work in progress.

“You okay?” A voice makes Cassian look up from the wooden table. Nesta stands in the kitchen entryway wearing nothing but Cassian’s shirt, and her hair is a rumpled mess from sleep. Her hands twisting into the hem of his tee tells him she couldn’t be less excited about Mor’s early arrival, though the rest of her doesn’t show it.

Exhausted apprehensiveness drops in Cassian’s gut. “How much of that did you hear?” he asks warily.

“Not much. I just woke up a minute ago and heard your voices.” She comes over to him and wraps a comforting arm around his shoulder. “Why, were you guys arguing?”

Cassian slings his arm around Nesta’s waist, basking in her warmth. “Not exactly.”

She frowns. “Was it about me?”

“It was about Mor.”

She nudges him. “Will you tell me about it?”

“No,” he quips, yanking her down onto his lap. He pecks a kiss onto her lips. “It’s nothing you need to worry about.”

Nesta hums to herself. “So our morning plans are out the window?” she asks, raising a brow.

“Yup.”

“Does Mor actually like my undies?”

“Nope.”

***

The rest of Cassian’s friends and Nesta’s family arrive by late afternoon, piling out of a dark SUV in a frenzy of noise and colors. Nesta forgot how… many of them there were.

She lets Cassian and Mor handle the greetings, choosing to observe everyone from her spot near the stairs.

Azriel is the first to catch her eyes. He looks the same as ever, dressed head to toe in black even in the middle of a heat wave. Elain is an overdressed peacock in comparison to him, not that anyone would be comparing them, because they carefully stand at opposite ends of the entry hall.

He sends a simple nod Nesta’s way, which makes her narrow her eyes. Does he think he can act too cool for her just because they haven’t talked in a while? Idiot.

Feyre notices Nesta next and waves her arms wildly. “Get over here!”

Nesta reluctantly pulls away from the banister and nears their group, offering only a half smile to everyone there before hiding behind her sisters. Cassian cuts a glance her way in solidarity, and it feels like a pillar of reinforcement against her wavering self. She scrambles around for a solid ten seconds for something to say, either to her sisters or to the whole group, and finally comes up with, “What are we having for dinner?”

“That’s still hours away,” Rhysand assures. “Everyone scram and put your shit up first.”

“The girl has a point,” Amren grumbles. “I’m starving.”

“Yeah, Rhys, can we have an early dinner?” Mor whines.

And just like that, Nesta has melted into the background again. Which might be for the best, considering how loud it is right now.

Feeling overwhelmed, Nesta checks on Feyre and Elain to make sure they’re not paying attention to her, and then meets Cassian’s gaze through all the luggage and bodies. Tilting her head toward the back door to let him know that she’s leaving, she silently slips down the hall and out of the house.

Outside in the gardens, the light breeze soothes her heightened senses. It’s hot as shit at this hour, but she’ll take it for the peace and quiet.

Only a few minutes into her getaway, however, Nesta hears the porch door open behind her. Her shoulders stiffen when she hears footsteps that don’t belong to Cassian. There goes her peace and quiet.

Nesta is surprised to find Amren slinking up to her side, her small head appearing at Nesta’s shoulder.

Discomfort crawls through Nesta’s bones at the woman’s unexpected presence. It’s a subtle sense of wrongness, like being in the proximity of a predator but not having enough information to guess how they’ll attack.

“Hiding out from Rhysie’s big bad inner circle?” Amren taunts.

Nesta stiffens. Just because it’s true doesn’t mean it needs to be thrown in her face.

“I suppose I can’t blame you,” she goes on. “We can be a scary group.”

“I’m not scared of anybody,” Nesta says, keeping her focus glued to the trees’ cherry blossoms. “I just wanted fresh air.”

“And I’ve wanted to find out what Cassian sees in you ever since he gave me that verbal lashing about being nice to his new girlfriend.” Amren turns to face Nesta fully, closing in. “What kind of pussy grip can a woman have to make Cassian of all men heel?” She hisses in a thoughtful breath through her teeth.

Nesta only shrugs, but her interest is piqued at the idea of Cassian warning Amren away from her. She definitely doesn’t need the protection, and once would have found it offensive, but… she likes the idea of someone standing up for her, being unapologetically on her side even if they have no good reason to do it. The only other times she can remember feeling defended were brief, subtle childhood instances with Feyre and Elain, and that was only because blood instinctively defends blood. It’s different to feel chosen. It makes her chest crack.

When Nesta doesn’t respond, Amren throws out, “Are you on the spectrum or what?”

Nesta again doesn’t reply.

“No one mentioned it, but I assumed as soon as I saw you.”

“It’s rude to make assumptions,” Nesta says, her voice cool as a running river.

Amren barks a laugh that sounds like a whip lashing. “I like you, girl.”

Nesta finally meets Amren’s silver gaze and states, “I don’t like you.” Her tone is blunt, to the point—but if she has to participate in this twisted version of small talk, then she should at least get to be honest.

Amren laughs aloud again, as if that genuinely amuses her. Nesta doesn’t know how amused Amren will be when she realizes that Nesta is serious.

She shrugs to herself, turning back to face the garden. It isn’t her problem, she decides.

***

“Even for you, this is overprotective.” Rhys’s voice comes from behind Cassian, who stands at the sliding glass door at the back of the kitchen that peers out onto the gardens. He’s been watching Amren converse with Nesta for the last seven minutes—or rather, he’s been watching Nesta, inspecting her body language to gauge her discomfort.

It was a struggle not to hold his arm across the back door and block Amren from following after Nesta earlier. Amren had the look of a cat going out to play with a new toy, and Cassian had nearly snarled at her for it until she gave him that expression: the raised brow and sneer that said Really, Cassian? Pathetic.

It made him think of how Nesta would feel if she knew he was trying to physically keep people away from her, and he managed to have enough shame to move aside and let Amren pass with only a warning look.

So far though, it looks like Nesta is handling herself just fine. He should’ve known better than to underestimate her.

When Rhys doesn’t get a response, he comes up to stand at Cassian’s side and get a look through the glass door. “I never thought you’d be applying your passion for security to your damn girlfriend.” Rhys lets out a low whistle.

Without taking his eyes off Nesta and Amren, Cassian tells Rhys, “Protecting her is protecting myself. When she gets hurt, I feel it twofold.” And he really doesn’t want to be hurt on this vacation. Nesta already thinks he’s a crybaby as it is.

Rhys is silent for a long minute, as if he can’t deny that he would feel the same way for his own girlfriend. Eventually he says, “I might finally understand what’s going on in your brain whenever you’re around her.”

Cassian only nods.

Rhysand claps his hand down suddenly on Cassian’s shoulder, breaking the somberness of his confession. “Call them in to help make dinner,” Rhys orders. “I want all hands on deck tonight.”

Cassian looks at his brother with narrowed eyes. “And what will you be doing to help?”

“I’ll be watching the game on the nice TV that I paid for, in the beautiful new living room I also paid for.”

“Bastard.”

***

Nesta and Azriel help prepare dinner in silence. Their quiet acknowledgment of each other is better than any words could be, but it’s all shattered when Mor dumps a serving platter on the counter right next to Azriel.

“Ooh, ricotta-stuffed mushrooms!” She grabs a handful and starts arranging them onto her platter. “Az, how was your mystery weekend away? I haven’t seen you since you got back.”

Azriel shares an unreadable glance with Nesta before sliding his chicken parmesan dish toward her and saying loudly, “Wow, is that football?” He promptly turns around and walks out of the kitchen.

Nesta glares after him in disbelief, but Azriel can’t hear her wordless cries for help because he’s already in the living room.

Left alone at the kitchen counter with Morrigan, Nesta keeps wiping at the wine glasses that have been gathering dust in the cupboards. From the corner of her eye, she can see that Mor’s mouth is tightened into a displeased line.

Not that Nesta isn’t grateful for it, but Mor usually isn’t one to keep her mouth shut. She wonders if something is wrong that she doesn’t know about. “You look constipated,” Nesta tells Mor under her breath. “Anything you want to get out?”

Mor only scoffs in indignation. Then she shakes her head and mutters to herself, “I promised not to say anything.”

Now Nesta is really intrigued. “Promised who?” she prods. “Cassian?”

“Like you don’t know about it.” Mor rolls her dark eyes.

Nesta doesn’t know, though after Amren’s comment earlier she might have a hint. “I would prefer you be honest with me rather than follow Cassian’s orders.”

“That’s funny, so do I.” Mor plucks up a stuffed mushroom and shoves it into her mouth.

Nesta thinks back to how she woke up to Cassian and Mor’s voices lowered in seriousness. After what Nesta overheard on New Year’s Eve, it’s no secret that Morrigan doesn’t care for her, but she suddenly has the urge to have it said to her face. “Well, if you want to stop holding back with me, I won’t tell.”

Morrigan sets down her mushroom platter with a thump, turning to face Nesta like she’s done her a personal wrong. “You know what I know about you, Nesta?” Mor says. “I know that Cassian has changed since he’s gotten with you. I know that he’s more serious whenever he’s around you. I know that you don’t love him as much as he loves you. How can Cassian expect me to trust someone that doesn’t want to be around his own family? How can he expect me to trust you with his heart? Not that I’m allowed to be saying any of this, because I’m supposed to be hiding my feelings about you to stop my best friend from hating me.”

It’s crazy how a year ago those words would have been enough to make Nesta retreat to her room and never come out again. Each statement pricks like a shard of glass against her skin, though none of them are accurate or true.

And yet Nesta finds herself hurting more for Cassian than for herself. She feels her familiar old mask go up around her face and harden there.

“It sounds like your problem is more with Cassian than it is with me,” Nesta says stoically. “Because I won’t be going through any trials to prove myself. I have nothing to prove. I don’t care if you like me or not, if you’re nice to my face or cruel behind my back—but it’s rude to shit over your friend’s life choices like that. He’ll stop trusting you if you keep it up, and it won’t be my fault when it happens,” Nesta finishes. She wordlessly gathers the wine glasses in her hands and abandons a silent Morrigan to go set the table.

Nesta knows the dynamic at dinner is off with her presence there.

For once, Cassian’s priorities lie somewhere other than laughing with his friends. He keeps a protective hand on Nesta’s thigh from the moment they take their seats, and he only removes it when he’s filling her plate with food.

With memories of Christmas dinner hanging over all of them, Cassian looks like a bodyguard prepared for attack— except he’s contributing to a good half of the tension at the table.

“How was the drive here?” Feyre pokes at the two of them in an attempt to break the ice. Nesta glances to Cassian for his response, but his attention is taken by the platter of bread rolls.

Sighing internally, Nesta answers, “Better than yours, that’s for sure.”

Everyone laughs hesitantly. A steaming bread roll then appears on Nesta’s plate, golden and fluffy with a buttery aroma; one glance at the rest of the bread tells her it was the biggest roll in the pile.

Nesta drops her walls enough to give Cassian a small smile and an arm rub of appreciation, and then she reaches straight for the bottle of wine.

She loves Cassian and hates this dinner too much to allow this to go on.

After filling Cassian’s empty glass high with Merlot, Nesta presses it into his free hand with a subtle kiss on his cheek. “Relax a little,” she murmurs into his ear.

It takes ten minutes and two full glasses for her plan to take effect, but relax Cassian does. Like oil slipping through rusted gears, the tension in the room slowly unwinds and natural conversation starts to flow.

“You guys will not believe what I had to walk in on this morning,” Mor announces at one point during the meal.

“Yeah, yeah, Cassian’s ass and dick, we’ve already heard,” Amren says.

Cassian’s glare at Mor is more lighthearted than life-threatening. “This is why I can’t talk to you anymore,” he states, pointing a finger at her. Nesta is so glad for the lack of tension in his shoulders that she doesn’t even care if everyone basically knows about her having sex in the living room.

With Cassian acting more like his normal self, the pressure to make useless small talk is no longer on her. Nesta is content to watch everybody share stories and laughter, but for once she doesn’t feel like an audience member on the outside looking in. Maybe it’s because no matter how much Cassian drinks, his hand stays steady on her leg the whole night, keeping her rooted there with everybody else. He doesn’t let her fade into the background for a second.

“What’s that on your wrist, Az?” Mor’s voice rings from one head of the table. Azriel snatches his hand back in a flash before Mor can reach for it. From his other side, Nesta grabs it smoothly out of the air to take a look at the cause of Mor’s question.

She raises her brow at the sight of three colorful bracelets lining Azriel’s right wrist.

Az tries to pull his hand away, but Nesta’s hold is tight. Even if the signature of the maker wasn’t stamped onto one of the childish bracelets, she would know who had made them with one glance.

“What does it say?” Mor asks her.

“Nothing. Just some beads.” Nesta pulls Azriel’s dark sleeve over the beads that spell out GWYN’S BITCH and gives his arm a little pat. She sincerely hopes Elain is thoroughly over Azriel by now.

“Was that Rainbow Loom I saw? Since when did you wear kiddy bracelets?” Mor snorts at Az.

Nesta’s attention is pulled away from their conversation by a heavy head falling onto her shoulder. “Nestaaa,” Cassian slurs, slumping against her side.

Blushing at the attention he’s drawing to her, Nesta tries to shove a drunk Cassian back upright. “I think we need to get you to bed.”

“Oh really? Promise you’ll tuck me in?” He tries to wink at her, but it comes off as a strained blink.

He looks ridiculous. It isn’t helping the blush on her cheeks, though.

“I promise.” Nesta shoves her finished plate aside and grabs Cassian by the bicep, standing up and attempting to drag him with her. “Come on, I’ll take you right now.”

Mor is quick to get to her feet. “We can take him,” she offers eagerly.

“Who’s we?” Azriel mutters. Nesta hears a hard stomp, and then Az is coughing, jumping out of his seat after Mor. “Yeah, we’ll take him,” he says.

Nesta reluctantly lets Cassian slip out of her grasp as Morrigan and Azriel take one of his arms from either side.

“Wait, but I want Nesta to tuck me in!” Cassian twists around as he’s dragged away, drunkenly finding Nesta’s gaze. He’s pouting.

Affection battles with secondhand embarrassment and wins. “I’ll be right there,” she promises with a wave. As soon as Mor and Azriel accomplish whatever it is they’re trying to accomplish. Her voice flattens into a cold warning when she adds after them, “Be careful with him.”

Daring a quick glance back at the table, Nesta wants to cringe when she meets everyone else’s eyes. Rhysand looks highly amused. Feyre looks disturbed, and Elain looks glum with envy, the love-obsessed bitch. Amren is Amren.

After dinner is over, dishes duty is handed over to Rhysand and Amren goes off to bed complaining about beauty sleep, which leaves Nesta alone with her sisters in the foyer.

She doesn’t quite know how, but she ends up forgetting her promise to Cassian and following the girls out to the front porch for some fresh air instead. The sun has long since set, taking some of the summer heat with it, but the air is still stuffy as the three of them settle down onto hand-painted wooden chairs. Lanterns on the porch are lit up to keep the darkness away, and the lake before them gleams with the reflection of the rising moon.

Feyre is the first to speak, her voice hesitant. “It’s hot out tonight, isn’t it?”

“I’m not doing this,” Elain announces. She stands abruptly from her chair and goes back inside.

Nesta and Feyre stare wide-eyed after the swinging front door, but a minute later Elain returns holding a decanter and three crystal glasses. She sets the glasses down on a side table and starts pouring. “It’s not really Tennessee without a strong whiskey,” she says to no one. “And I’m way too sober right now to handle this vacation.” The third glass gets an extra finger of liquor, and it ends up in Elain’s hand. She passes the other two to Nesta and Feyre before settling back into her seat.

Nesta grimaces at the drink in her hand without even tasting it. She hates most alcohol, but strong alcohol especially. For the sake of her sisters, however, she throws back half the glass without thinking.

Liquid fire scalds her tongue and throat, and she groans aloud. Instant regret.

Elain has no such issues downing her liquor. “Did you know,” she says after swallowing a gulp of whiskey like it’s apple juice, “that our old place is just a mile and a half that way?” She waves with her glass toward the back gardens.

“Is it really that close?” A frown wrinkles Feyre’s brow, like the memory of their old home might taint the perfect life she has now.

“Yes,” Nesta confirms. She doesn’t offer anything else.

Feyre shudders despite the temperature. “I hate even thinking about it. It’s so depressing. Reminds me of Papa.”

Which is also depressing, Nesta thinks to herself.

“It wasn’t depressing for me,” Elain says, chin tilted up in defiance.

That doesn’t surprise Nesta. Even in the depths of their father’s patheticness, he was Elain’s favorite man on earth.

Nesta used to wonder how her papa would have reacted if Elain was the one with crippling endometriosis pain every month instead of her. Would he have ignored her cries like he ignored Nesta’s, or would he have come running to her aid?

It’s not a question that’s worth Nesta’s time and energy, though. Not when the man himself has long been six feet under. Instead she pokes at Elain, “Then why did you hide your background from every guy you met like you were ashamed of it?”

“I was ashamed,” Elain says primly, “but that doesn’t mean I hated all of it. We didn’t all grow up with a ten foot stick up our ass; at least I could appreciate what we had without taking my attitude out on everybody else.”

The whiskey must be working quickly, because Nesta can’t hold back an unseemly snort. “There you go again,” she drawls in a cutting tone, pointing an accusing finger with the hand that holds her glass at Elain. “Dishing out shit when you can’t take it back. At least not without crying.”

Feyre, who was trying to hide her cringe with the rim of her drink, now perks up with eagerness. “She does do that, doesn’t she?” she exclaims. “I thought I was the only one who noticed.”

Elain’s lips twist into an indignant sneer. “What’s this dynamic now, why’s everyone ganging up on me?”

Nesta mutters, “Because you need to hear it every now and then.” Turning to Feyre, she adds, “God, she can be fucking annoying.”

“Oh, like you’re everyone’s favorite person to be around?” Elain scoffs.

“At least I don’t pretend to be something I’m not. That’s called a con artist, Elain. You’re a con artist.”

There’s stunned silence for a tense moment—and it’s broken by full laughter. Elain is chuckling sweetly as she says, “Well, I suppose it’s okay if only you two are the ones who notice it. It can be our little secret.” She presses a finger to her pink lips.

Feyre giggles along at that too, but Nesta remains quiet. Too sober for the current mood, perhaps. “Do you think someone will notice at one point?” she asks Elain. “That the smiles and Southern charm and—the kindness...” She doesn’t know how to feel about that word in relation to Elain. “Do you think someone will notice that that’s not all there is to you?”

Elain’s grinning face freezes quicker than an actress’s. “No one will know,” she answers smoothly, “because I’m not going to be with anyone else for a while.”

At the confused silence filled only by the chirp of cicadas, Elain supplements, “I’m trying out the single life.”

Nesta meets Feyre’s eyes, and it only catalyzes the sound quelling up in her throat. At the same moment, the two sisters burst into cackling laughter. Well, Feyre cackles. Nesta makes a noise that imitates a dying whale.

“I’m serious,” Elain insists, glaring at them. “If Nesta could spend all those years living like a widowed hag, why can’t I? I don’t need men to live.”

Nesta’s laughter sours at the insult, and she turns to Elain with seriousness in her tone. “No one needs anyone else, Elain—but you treat loneliness like a leper from the Middle Ages. Are you even happy for me and Cassian beneath all that jealousy?”

Elain shifts uncomfortably in her chair and mutters, “Of course I’m happy for you two.” And then she adds in a much quieter voice, “Deep, deep down.”

“Is that what was wrong with you on New Year’s?” Feyre asks gently. “You were jealous?”

Nesta raises a brow; she didn’t know this.

“I wasn’t exactly having fun watching you two suck face right after getting dumped by Azriel,” Elain tells Nesta. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not happy for you. I just…I’m not used to being the lonely one.” She huffs out a sigh and reaches for the decanter again. “If anyone should be in a happy and healthy relationship right now, it should be me.”

Feyre turns to Nesta and whispers too loudly, “You’re right, she is fucking annoying.”

“Don’t get too friendly; so are you.”

Feyre leans away from Nesta in affront. “I didn’t even do anything this time!”

“You don’t need to do anything for Nesta to think she’s better than us,” Elain chimes in.

The three of them break out into bickering, which soon devolves into hysterical laughter, which then morphs into a comfortable silence—which doesn’t last long until they’re bickering again. They spend the rest of the night going in small circles like that over their whiskey, occasionally taking breaks to talk of more serious things: Elain’s flower shop is finally starting to pick up business, but expenses are still too high. Nesta is worried about Cassian being all alone in Italy by himself, but she’ll never show it to him. Feyre’s work at the children’s art studio is making her seriously consider having kids (“Don’t you dare, you’re way too young,” Nesta threatens).

Each of them reveals that they miss at least one of their shitty parents these days.

Maybe it’s because they’re under the same night sky that they spent their childhoods under, but if Nesta closes her eyes, it’s like she’s seventeen again, letting her sisters stay up and talk her ear off even though it’s a weeknight.

***

The lack of Nesta in Cassian’s bed must stop him from succumbing to deep sleep, because his nap is hazy and doesn’t last more than a half hour. When he blinks awake, the fog of wine from earlier has mostly cleared away and the lamps in his room are lit. Mor sits on the bay window seat and Azriel lounges on a chair nearby, both of them murmuring quietly to each other.

Noticing Cassian’s movement, Az turns away from Mor and drawls, “That was quick.”

Groaning, Cassian rubs at his eyes and sits up straight. His shirt and jeans are flung on the floor, and he can only assume he took them off himself before collapsing into bed.

Holding the thin blanket to his chest, he demands, “What are you guys doing here?”

“Oh, now he has modesty,” Mor grumbles.

Cassian grabs his wrinkled shirt from the floor and shrugs it on before repeating his question. “What are you doing here, and where’s Nesta?”

“Don’t know,” Az shrugs from his chair. “But Mor wanted us to talk alone, so Nesta probably doesn’t need to be here.”

Growing wary, Cassian straightens up against the headboard. “Talk about what?”

Mor’s words take him by surprise. “I wanted to apologize.” She straightens up in her seat and throws a cautious glance at Azriel. “And I wanted Az with me for moral support.”

Az rolls his eyes to himself, likely considering the task beneath him.

“I didn’t take your words that seriously this morning,” Mor goes on, “but I’m taking them seriously now. Someone made me realize that I’ve been blaming your—girlfriend... for our relationship changing when I’m the one who’s been pushing you away the whole time. While you were falling in love, I wasn’t there for you. I didn’t trust you to find love without my input, and I didn’t respect you when you did.” Tears line her dark eyes, taking Cassian aback. “I’m sorry,” she says weakly. “Please don’t hate me.”

A headache takes root in Cassian’s temples, and he has to shut his eyes against the dull thudding. “I could never hate you, Mor,” he says past the lump in his throat. That was never the problem, though her words have eased some of the pent up frustration in his chest.

Cassian lets out a long-suffering sigh. “It’s not just you. It’s every single one of us. We’ve known each other so long, we’re so fucking entangled in each other, that even when I’m living by myself up in my cabin I feel like I can’t get away from it.” He stares out the window like he might find some relief there. “That’s why I’m going overseas. To get some space from all of this.” He waves between the three of them and laughs bitterly. “We created this incestuous little circle and now we don’t know how to care about anyone outside of it.”

He catches Az frowning, fingers toying with one of the bracelets on his wrist that Cassian spied earlier.

Mor sniffs away a lingering tear. “What about Nesta, then? Where does she factor in?”

Cassian’s mouth turns down in a distasteful frown. He still doesn’t like that he has to leave without her, but the fact that he doesn’t like it is only more proof that he needs to do it. “I can’t let Nesta be a part of me,” he answers. “I need to be all of me.”

Only once he learns how to do that can he be the friend and lover that the people in his life deserve.

***

Nesta wakes up the next dawn not on a hard chair, but in a soft bed. The smell of Cassian lingers on the sheets wrapped around her, and she blinks blearily as she tries to remember the events of last night.

Feyre fell asleep first. Elain and Nesta were just going to close their eyes for a moment and take a brief rest as well, but the next thing Nesta knew Cassian was helping her take out her contacts and laying her head against a pillow. Now the sun is dawning and she has a pounding headache. She needs at least another ten hours of sleep before she’ll be fit to face the world again.

She looks around for her phone to check the time and spots it plugged into the charger on the bedside table. Despite feeling like she’s been rammed with the flu, the tiniest smile lifts Nesta’s lips at the thought of Cassian carrying her to bed and making sure to charge her phone.

She finds her lockscreen blown up with notifications, all from her shared groupchat with Gwyn and Emerie.

Clicking into her texts, Nesta scrolls back through the hundreds of messages to see what she missed.

Emerie: i can’t believe nesta isn’t here for this.

Emerie: what the hell is she doing

Gwyn: probably hanging out with her best friends the inner circle

Gwyn: or getting railed

Emerie: >:(

A tired laugh escapes Nesta as she reads the texts, and she’s grateful for the reminder that these are her chosen friends. This is her found family, and she’ll be back with them soon.

Scrolling a little further back, Nesta finds the cause of all the commotion.

Emerie: A RACCOON JUST FELL THROUGH MY CEILING IM GONMA DUE &%!@

Emerie: DIE

Followed by multiple pictures of a scarily large raccoon chewing up Emerie’s bed.

Nesta shudders at the images. Reminding herself to message the girls back as soon as she has her head on straight, she puts away the phone and drags herself out of bed.

Her knees wobble a little as she stands upright and slips her glasses on, but her body keeps moving automatically toward the door. It’s not until she’s halfway downstairs that she realizes she’s looking for Cassian.

In the main hall that cuts through the house, Nesta glances between the back door and the front door. Instinct tugs her toward the front door, and as she passes the living room she spies Elain knocked out on the couch.

One of her legs dangle off the edge of the cushion and she still has her shoes on, like she dragged herself up onto the loveseat in the middle of the night and fell straight asleep.

Cassian brought Nesta up to their room sometime during the night, and Rhysand would have done the same for Feyre, but Elain… Elain has no one to carry her to her room, Nesta realizes.

Hating the unusual feeling of pity that blooms inside of her, Nesta goes over and grabs a throw blanket from nearby. She flings it haphazardly over Elain’s body. There, that should do it.

She might take a few seconds to tuck the blanket in a little better, but then she’s out the front door and jogging down the porch steps. Early morning dew beads the grass, and the sun isn’t high enough in the sky yet for the heat to be unbearable.

Like perfect timing, Cassian’s form appears from the lightly wooded running trail that circles the lake. He has his hair tied up and is wearing nothing but workout shorts, and even from this distance Nesta can see the sweat gleaming off his hardened chest.

She forgets about her headache and the bitter aftertaste of alcohol coating her tongue. Her feet speed up on the grass, and then Cassian takes sight of her too. He grins wide and breaks into a run toward her.

When they’re mere feet away from each other, Nesta is the one to halt first and hold out a hand, blocking Cassian’s incoming bear hug. “Don’t you dare.” She eyes his body with a warning look. Nesta will do a lot of things for her boyfriend, but sticking her face into his sweaty pits is not one of them.

Cassian looks her up and down with scrutiny, trying to decide if going in for the hug anyway is worth it. “Fine,” he gives in. He spins on his heel and walks down to the head of the pier, where a standing shower is set up for washing off after swims in the lake.

Twisting the faucet, Cassian stands under the cold burst of water and gives Nesta a look that says, Happy now?

Nesta cautiously goes over to where Cassian stands, but she gets too close—

In a blink, she’s being tugged under the shower stream, held tight to Cassian’s chest.

“Cassian!” Nesta splutters, trying to pull away. Droplets hit her glasses and blur her vision, and she has to shove the glasses up into her hair so she can properly glare at Cassian’s face.

He only laughs deeply and tugs her closer. “Like you don’t smell either. You’ve been in that dress since yesterday.”

Nesta catches her breath under the pouring water, glancing down at her soaked sundress. Right; she probably needs this more than he does.

The water isn’t freezing like she expected, she realizes as she relaxes in Cassian’s arms. It’s actually the perfect temperature, almost soothing after the initial shock to her senses.

Broad hands stroke long lines across her arms, like Cassian is making sure that she isn’t uncomfortable. The action triggers an old memory inside Nesta—or rather, an old familiar feeling. The feeling of Cassian in Nesta’s early days of knowing him, always pushing her out of her comfort zone but never tossing her in the deep end to drown.

“I handled my sisters and your friends pretty well the other night, don’t you think?” she murmurs into his chest.

Cassian looks down at her with pure reverence in his eyes. “I can’t be surprised. You’ve always been like that.”

“Like what?”

“Brave as hell. From the minute you stepped outside of the little circle you’d drawn around your life, you became the bravest person I know.”

“Not true,” Nesta states matter-of-factly. “I can name at least three braver people.”

Cassian pokes her in the ribs, but his smile is good natured. “It’s just an expression, Nes. Take the compliment.”

The shower keeps spraying around them, refracting the sunlight to scatter rainbows across Nesta’s vision. “I couldn’t have done it without you,” she tells Cassian earnestly. “I did the bulk of the hard work, but you…you gave me that first push. You taught me I could find safety in others, because you were my first real friend.”

Her words clearly take Cassian by surprise. Maybe it’s because Nesta is so rarely open about her true feelings, so her words have more value when she is. Maybe Cassian just wasn’t expecting to get so much credit, which is why he blinks rapidly now. “And what now?” he tries to tease, emotion tangled in his throat. “You have better friends?”

“Much better,” Nesta plays along, but her gaze carries all her sincerity. She suddenly laughs to herself, remembering: “I was terrible at socializing.”

It’s something she brushes off easily now, but few people will ever know that part of her inability to get close to others stemmed from a debilitating fear of rejection.

“Not to me.” Cassian reaches out to twist the faucet off, leaving the two of them standing soaked in the morning air. “I loved talking to you. I couldn’t stop wanting to talk to you, even if you didn’t feel like talking back.” That was how insistent he’d been on becoming her friend, that he would open up to her even when she was closed off to him.

Nesta watches Cassian tug his hair tie off, a little dazed by how much she feels for him in this moment. She isn’t ready for when he scrubs a hand vigorously through his loose hair, shaking the dripping strands out like a dog.

“Cassian!” Nesta scolds for the second time this morning. She flinches back at the water droplets hitting her eyes, making Cassian laugh when he looks back up at her. “Sorry,” he says, not sounding sorry at all. To make up for the assault, he delicately plucks her glasses off the top of her head and uses the hem of her wet dress to wipe off the lenses as best he can.

He slides the glasses back onto her face and nods, inspecting her. “That’s better.” Then he swoops down to kiss the mole beside her mouth.

Nesta wrinkles her nose in surprise. “What’s that for?”

“It’s a thank you,” he says. “Thank you for your car breaking down in the middle of the woods, and for agreeing to spend the night at my place last September.”

Nesta’s brows raise high in amusement. “Shouldn’t you be thanking Feyre? For calling in that favor with you?”

“One day, I’ll do that too,” he promises.

Nesta bites down on a smile and shakes her head, muttering, “Ridiculous.” Yet she can’t help but wonder: who would she thank?

The universe, probably. Whatever forces made it possible for her to wake up every day in the same bed as Cassian, eating the food he cooks and accepting the unconditional love he offers.

She suddenly shivers under the rising sun, becoming aware of how just uncomfortably her sundress clings to her body. Without Cassian’s words distracting her, everything is damp and cold.

Cassian notices and slips his hand into Nesta’s, already starting to pull her away from the pier and toward the house. “Let’s get you dry,” he says. “I’ll make us pancakes before everyone else wakes up.”

“With chocolate chips?”

“With chocolate chips.”

So hand in hand, the two of them walk back up to Cherrywood House.

***

a/n: IM FREE OF THIS BEAST. that ending was absolutely horrible to write, but i hope it satisfied you anyway. and if didnt, well, that’s what the epilogue is for

tagging: @sjm-things @thewayshedreamed @drielecarla @valkyriewarriors @superspiritfestival @aliveahaahahafuck @cupcakey00 @sayosdreams @rainbowcheetah512 @claralady @thebluemartini @nessiantho @missing-merlin @duskandstarlight @lucy617 @sleeping-and-books @everything-that-i-love @cassianscool @swankii-art-teacher @wannawriteyouabook @arinbelle @awesomelena555 @julemmaes @wickedqueenoffantasy @poisonous-bloom @observationanxioustheorist @gisellefigue08 @courtofjurdan @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @wolfiixxx @cass-nes @seashade @royaltykxx @illyrianundercover @monstrousloves-explodinggalaxies @humanexile @that-golden-lyre @agentsofsheilds @mercy-is-alive @cassiansbigwingspan @laylaameer01 @verypaleninja @maastrash @bow-dawn @perseusannabeth @dead-on-the-inside666 @jlinez @hungryreadingaddict @anidealiveson @planet-faerie @shallowhighwaters @ghostlyrose2 @chosenfamily-valkyriequeens @rarephloxes

#nesta archeron #nessian #cassian #ncssianwrites #a favor #nessian fic #nessian au

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lightlycareless · 2 years

Text

First, it hurts— Chapter X

Summary:

Naoya Zen’in x Fem!Reader

While arranged marriages are not uncommon in the jujutsu community, it was strange to receive a proposal from none other than the Zen’in’s, nonetheless your clan accepted and before you knew it, you were married off to Naoya.

Your new purpose was clear: to serve and submit, to be seen and not heard. To forget any sense of individuality in favor of obeying your husband.

Will this marriage ever flourish into something else? Will it change…for better or for worse?

Chapter warnings: mentions of abuse, violence, suicide, misogyny, somewhat disrespecting authority, and a bit of spooky.

A/N: How exciting is to finally post a new chapter on my ao3!!! I’m a bit nervous, hehe, because it’s been a while since I wrote anything new so I feel like I actually got worse 😥...but I hope you’ll still find it enjoyable 🥺❤

Other thing I have to clarify is that I might have to skip a few updates on Sundays because I’m getting a bit busier with by business (most cons take place on weekends, as well as most of my time lol) but I will absolutely NOT abandon this story 🥰 so no need to worry about that! I’ll just let you know in advance if I won’t be able to update that weekend.

And of course, thank you for your support!!! Your comments, likes/kudos and reblogs motivate me to do better; I wish I could respond to all of them, but since I’m a side-blog I can’t do so (but if it’s ao3 I’m able to reply)

I’ll never get tired of saying this, so I’ll say it again: thank you thank you thank youuuuu 😭❤❤❤

Now, here’s this weeks chapter! Happy reading 🥰

Masterpost ➸ Chapter 11.

Ao3 link.

You were like a dog being trained to follow its owner around in every direction.

Being constantly reminded by Naoya’s actions that you were nothing but an object for his desires, adding that Junko was to take care of you until you properly learned all your wifely duties, as if you were learning new tricks…wouldn’t that comparison be true?

And following that train of thought, just like the dog you felt compared to, you would be rewarded at the end of the day if you behaved like expected. Your treat —contacting your sister.

Hinata, the unexpected ray of hope that came into your life in the darkest of days, a promise of things changing for the better…was soon replaced by a storm when Naoya’s true intentions came to light. He never wanted you to contact her out of the goodness of his heart—no, he just wanted you to push her way and seal your fate as his.

You unconsciously wanted the former to happen; to believe that your family hadn’t abandoned you just yet. But your time at the Zen’in had slowly begun to corrupt you; all the bad things you saw in this house were beginning to seem normal to you, and you couldn’t help but think that your forced isolation was something you deserved in a way, beginning to question your sister’s character.

Would she accept Naoya’s intentions cloaked behind your words? Or would she refute them and confront him directly?

It was useless to dwell on the future when it wasn’t written on paper.

But there was only one thing you were sure about: you wouldn’t be able to speak to her without breaking down in tears.

In a way, you were grateful that Junko’s words would sometimes bring you back to the present. The thought of forcing your family to step back brought you so much sorrow, you began considering ending your life just to take the pain away. At least that way, you wouldn’t have to perform what would be your biggest sacrifice yet.

But at the same time, you wanted to see your sister one last time—hear her voice, know about your father and brother, to see if they were okay before you departed this world.

Thus, you buried the urge to make a decision to occur after Hinata’s meeting. Whatever happened then, would affect the course of the remainder of your life.

For now, you had to continue your tour around the house.

You’ve already gone through the kitchen, the cleaning room, gardens and bedrooms—with the exception of one room, forbidden to enter , Junko said as the two of you passed by it’s door.

You thought Junko's diligence in bringing you to the bedrooms was a bit…odd, since you assumed you were only to serve as Naoya’s wife.

“You’re not below serving others if Naoya-sama allows it” She clarified, as if reading your mind. Her choice of words had to hold back the need to roll your eyes and comment on how noble your husband was being.

Nonetheless, even when you were permitted to tend to Naoya’s brothers and uncles, you were prohibited from following them inside the training grounds and underground facilities.

This decision was the result of their misogynistic beliefs that no woman is capable of being a sorcerer. And if this thought wasn’t infuriating enough, it only worsened when Junko added that you weren’t even permitted to indulge in exercise to keep your body active.

“If you want exercise, cleaning around the estate should be more than enough”

You wanted to scream.

But at the same time, you were glad to not be permitted to enter said grounds. When passing by, curiosity got the best of you and your eyes darted to the open door, managing to catch a glimpse of the insides to finding none other than your husband and a group of men, the Hei unit, (you recalled Naoya telling you one day, back when you two were still at the ryokan and he wanted to seemingly boast of his successes during pillow talk) training.

They seemed to be taking a break, their chest shirtless and coated with a thin layer of sweat after completing a long routine.

Your presence, mostly unnoticed for the most part, allowed you to take a longer look at their surroundings and the exercise equipment they carried; not interested in their physical attributes.

That is, until one of the Hei members caught a glimpse of your figure and rushed to inform his partner besides him. The commotion caused by their murmurs irritated Naoya and he swiftly turned around, after reprimanding them, to see who they were gossiping about, intentions of chastising them for distracting his team evident in his angered golden gaze, only to run silent when noticing it was you.

Your eyes locked onto one another for a few seconds, a silent battle of dominance to see who would look away first; but you had no intentions on sparring against him, and quickly looked away, continuing to follow Junko, who apparently didn’t notice —or cared— about this small interaction.

Even when walking away, you still felt Naoya’s gaze on you, earning a twinge of shame as you tried thinking on anything else but the cocky smirk appearing on his lips you managed to see before looking away.

It didn’t take much for you to assume he was showing you off to his men after you left, his newest acquisition , cementing the ideal of his possession over you.

If spending time at the training grounds entailed spending more time with Naoya and earning unwanted attention from men, then you would happily quit training all together.

Yet, the underground facilities were the complete opposite.

Where in the training grounds you felt ashamed, in the underground you felt threatened.

There was something on the other side of the entrance that evoked an eerie feeling of danger when Junko and you passed next to it.

Perhaps it was the lock made out of talismans that had you on edge; you recognized the combination of seals and scriptures for being used to anchor curses to a specific area without sealing them, like moth to a flame. They were not hard to perform and any sorcerer with basic knowledge of seals could produce them.

Yet, there was an inconsistency with their placement.

These talismans were not recommended to use near humans, as they did not suppress the personality of the curses. This often leads curses to desperately reach out to any unsuspecting passerby, lure them in and latch onto them as possible sources of energy and brutally murder or posses them.

Those who managed to survive often recounted hearing murmurs in the voices of someone hurt, someone whose desperation would send chills to their spine and urge a sense of nobility to reach back and help, only to notice at last second that it was a ruse and end up attacked.

You remembered encountering seals like these in Aokigahara, during a mission you were sent to back when you were a student; this forest had a historical background of holding an unusual amount of ghosts since the very beginnings of Japan, thus, sorcerers found it necessary to do something to regulate the situation.

At first they tried exorcizing all of the curses. It was a direct solution, although a bit tedious, but it was something all sorcerers knew how to carry out. And it worked for a few months, attacks and victim numbers lowered. Everything seemed promising, until months later, the forest was inundated once more with yurei.

It didn’t take long to understand that Aokigahara was infested with an unusual amount of energy that often mesmerized victims who, not knowing any better or were not sorcerers, coerced them to enter the forest; these ghosts would then feast on their energy—never to be seen again.

After much thought and pressure, the sorcerers created a plan: if they weren’t able to get rid of them, they could control them. Thus, they called all ghosts into strategic areas around the forest and kept them isolated with carefully crafted talismans—first of their generation. It was much easier than sealing them, since there was never an exact number of yurei currently residing inside the forest, nor how many were created each season, and much cheaper to maintain.

Their plan was received with a high percentage of success, and it became a generational task to have a sorcerer visit from time to time and check that everything is in order.

That task eventually fell into your hands.

You were sent during tourism season, where attacks would peak thanks to the rising amount of visitors—adding that the forest had also become morbidly interesting to foreigners during these last few years— to check the status of the talismans and change any seal that was broken, aside from creating a new screen to hide their location from civilians.

Whoever was in charge of performing the last checkup did a terrific job, all of the talismans were in great condition and the screen hadn’t deteriorated one bit. You returned back home disappointed, since you eagerly received this mission with the prospect of earning some kind of first-hand interaction with the curses, to see if one of them would try calling out to you and get a chance to prove you were much greater than their flimsy attempts to attack you.

That never occurred, of course; your amount of cursed energy plus skills got you removed from their list of potential victims (if they had one) and focus on someone else, unfortunately for them, it was no one.

Thus, you believed you would never hear them.

That is, until now.

At first it started as a whisper, a breathy voice calling out your name. You initially suspected it had been Junko, who perhaps was set to get your attention on an important matter, and you raised your head, replying to her call. But she denied ever saying your name in the first place and continued to walk alongside the garden.

You blinked a few times as you listed the possible origins of that noise; had it been your ladies? They did reassure you they were to stay close, but the whisper didn’t sound like them, and the last time you saw them was at the kitchen, where they offered some snacks for you to take if you so desired—Junko swiftly swatting your hand away, like an angered cat protecting its food, and told you that you were to eat until dinner.

Your mind went to the rattling leaves of the nearby trees. Today had been a rather windy day and this could lead to people confusing the whistling noises of the wind combing through the branches as something else—but there laid the problem. The noise they made was more like a whistle, not a whisper. Thus, it couldn’t have been the wind.

“Y-Y/N” You heard again, this time much clearer; it was a combination of various male and female breathy voices layered one over the other, not a single tone familiar to you, but the portraying emotion blatantly evident: pain.

You looked around to see if it had been a servant, or perhaps one of Naoya’s men playing a trick on you, but nothing. You were completely alone, the woman accompanying you already far ahead, not noticing you had stayed behind—right by the locked door.

Your head carefully swirled towards the mysterious entrance as the voices who kept repeating your name began to merge with one another, the chorus diminishing by each passing second.

Forgetting these were curses, you unconsciously began to inch closer and closer to the door, in efforts of getting a clearer listen to whoever was calling you, effectively throwing all jujutsu teachings of not engaging a curse unless prepared, or at least, recognizing the curse first.

With your attention solely focused on the contents on the other side of the door, you eventually noticed the majority of voices had disappeared, with only 3 remaining, now 2…1…

“Help me!”

Realization hit you like a bucketful of ice as you finally recognized the owner of the voice.

It was you .

Stumbling backwards, your eyes widened as you placed your hand over your chest taking deep breaths in attempts to lower the intensity in which your heart was beating and regain control over your body.

Sure, you’ve heard of experiences where people often hallucinated with themselves, whether seeing a physical representation of their figure or listening to their voice, but no amount of anticipation could prepare you for the real deal.

In efforts to subdue the horror and replace it with logic, your mind entered a state of disbelief as it began questioning the veracity of its surroundings.

The human body had never seen itself outside of reflections or pictures, there was a theory that if it was possible to do so, it would not recognize itself.

And that's exactly how you felt. You knew it was your voice, it sounded just like you after all; from the way you enunciated the vocals to the intensity of the tone, it was a carbon copy of your speech. But your mind failed to assimilate it was you .

How could it? Your conscience was in this body, your heartbeat was resonating in your ears and your blood was rushing through your body, slightly trembling at the threat before it. All signs that you were pretty much alive and real.

But your weakened state of mind, thanks to the abuse Naoya forced you to endure, alongside Mariya’s betrayal, Hinata’s absence and Junko’s indifference, had pushed you to warp your sense of reality, and you began to consider the possibility of perhaps…you were on the other side of the door.

Thus, your body shifted towards the direction of your voice and stepped forward, propelling your arm upwards, stretching your hand towards the metal lock hanging by the knob. No key necessary, just a bit of cursed energy would do the trick to make all the talisman come undone—

“Please—” your supposed voice ran hollow in the depths of your mind as you began concentrating a small amount of energy on the tip of your fingers.

“̝͇͍H̹̠͔e̬̭̠̹̖̯̘͠l̨̫͇̭͖̝p̟͕̠̝̕…̘̰͎̣̤̠̬͡u̳͉̮̰̯͕̟s͈͎̠…҉̙̭̝̱!̻”̰̜̮̹ͅͅ

“Y/N!” Junko cried as she quickly grabbed your hand and pulled you back with an unforeseen strength no one would’ve thought her capable of due to her thin complexion. Her actions, fueled by frantic thoughts, were enough to snap you out of their illusion and realize the atrocity you were to commit.

Junko had kept a close eye on your every moment, trying to avoid a situation like this from occurring. Ironically, the one second she peeled her gaze from you, you went ahead and did the unthinkable. But instead of earning her concern, like a frightened mother who thanks to her fast reflexes managed to prevent a catastrophe, you earned her judgment—disappointment that painted you as a woman incapable of keeping her hands to herself or following orders. A strike against Naoya’s favor.

“You are to never enter those premises!” She yelled, her tone strict and demanding, and you felt minimized. Her eyes were painted with anger, her brow furrowed and a drop of sweat sliding down the side of her face out of frustration. But underneath that raging emotion, there was a subtle layer of fear. Not for you though, but for her own sake.

Junko was very aware that even if there was animosity between you and your husband, but, the moment you got injured and Naoya was made aware of it, she would be punished in a way that would never allow her to forget what got her in that predicament in the first place.

Because, even if the two of you were married women, you held a position much higher than hers, and your value was greater.

“I-I’m sorry I just—I just heard something” words stumbling upon one another as you worked to explain your lack of tact, but she took no interest in your excuse.

“I don’t care!” Junko snapped as she continued to pull you away from the enigmatic entrance and headed towards the main wing, her grip on unrelenting—your hand turned from various shades of red, until it became white. Once Junko considered the area safe, she released her grasp on you—now fingers imprinted on your arm. “You’re never to enter those doors if you know what’s good for you”

“I—“

“Quiet!” She yelled, you froze. “Stop acting like a child! Naoya-sama has no use for a woman who won’t follow simple orders, so I advise you to start behaving like a proper wife!”

You didn’t have to be told twice to understand that your next words would be labeled as out of place. Thus, you swallowed and pushed down the cathartic need to tell her what you’ve experienced.

Instead, you looked down at the floor and closed your eyes, pressing your eyelids to hold back the tears that were threatening to fall.

“I’m sorry” you gave one last murmured apology, which she did not acknowledge and simply turned around, ordering you to —this time— follow her closely .

From that moment forward, you felt guilt and fear accompany your every step.

The woman who you cataloged as demure and soft spoken had a sudden shift of personality, and all thanks to your fault. Back when she was willing to look at you to corroborate you understood her words, now didn't even dare look at you.

You wanted to mend things, have her understand that it was a small incident, one that didn’t root from malicious intentions, but to no avail.

And her uninterest only heightened your sorrow.

Perhaps it was your warped sense of survival that led you to latch onto the smallest display of tranquility; any opportunity you could get to be at peace from others' misdeeds, you would desperately cling to it.

Having been constantly bombarded with the reminder that you were not deserving of attention, her decision to extend the already prominent emotional distance between came to no one’s surprise, and you felt it was the bare minimum of what a proper punishment was.

Nonetheless, even with the amount of disappointment you found yourself drowning in, it was not enough to clear the lingering thought of your haunted experience .

It is one of those things that you only get to realize how serious they are until they happen to you. Only then one would understand the sheer horror others experienced.

Your mind ran through the same scenario over and over again, attempting to find the use the Zen’in could possibly give to those curses. No other clan had curses sealed so close to the nuclear home, let alone around civilians. They were located in the center of the estate for god’s sake! If it isn’t for training, then what is it for?!

The more you thought of it, the more paranoid you grew, to the point where you began to feel ovwheledbed by the sensation of being followed, alongside a pair of shadows that appeared at the corner of your eye. Your eyes darted to the last area you saw the dark figures, only to find nothing. You moved one, closer to your destination and you would see them again, only to seek them out receiving the same results.

The idea of something latching onto you after your small encounter began to circulate your mind. But you should’ve seen it by now—right? Curses untraceable to the sorcerer's eye were uncommon, very rare to find, but not unheard of. Just what kind of threat did the Zen’in hide in the depths of their home?

By the time Junko stopped, you had failed to realize she’d taken you to the north wing of the estate, the area usually deployed for administrative and political matters, a place where no woman must be found.

The woman silently guided you to a small room on the far right side of the wing.

“Wait here” She entered and shut the door behind her. Leaving you dangerously alone with your thoughts.

You looked around. The area was relatively quiet, with no servants or members on sight, except for the singing birds on the trees nearby and the fish by the pond. It was a silence and sight that would be delightful to anyone who wanted a moment of peace after a frantic day at work, but the downfall to someone who had their mind crowded with dark thoughts.

If anything, this place was the center of all miseries, doomed futures and twisted men; women who had no place but below or behind them, alongside dangerous otherworldly creatures that had nothing but harm in their—

Thud thud thud

Thoughts abruptly interrupted, everything around you seemed to go quiet, except for that sudden noise.

With the hair from the back of your neck standing up; your heart began to slowly regain it’s quick pace, beating heavily against your chest as another set of chills traveled through your spine.

In reality, the sound was soft enough to pass unnoticed, intermingled with the seasonal greetings of birds singing or water flowing in the pond before you, but due to your paranoid state of mind, you managed to hear as if it occurred right next to you.

You quickly pinpointed the origin of the commotion from around the corner; your eyes hesitantly moving to that direction held your breath as you tried to get a better listen.

THUD!

You flinched and your body quickly adopted a defensive stance by tensing its shoulders and clenching your fingers.

This time, the noise was louder, closer to your position and by instinct, you immediately placed your back against the wall, attempting to minimize your presence and pass undetected from the possible perpetrator.

Silently and slowly, you began to inch closer and closer to the edge of the wall while attempting to place the pieces together—after briefly coming into contact with curses, shadowy figures began to make themselves present. Thus, it would be obvious to assume both incidents were complementary to one another, right? You had no proof, but previous experience in your short career as a sorcerer reminded you that lingering curses that were not properly dealt with often latched onto people and made themselves known by either playing with shadows or calling their name.

This was exactly what you were going through. It had to be a curse, there was no doubt!

Eventually, you came into contact with the other side of the wall and you took no time to scan around for any curses or traces of energy that could mean they were present, from fingertips to footsteps, any indications that meant you were not losing your mind and were, in fact, being tracked down.

Your mind didn’t have space to consider other scenarios, such as a small bird that had fallen from its nest when trying to fly for the first time, or a servant partaking in their duties.

Luckily for you, peace made its way to your psyche when, after a few seconds of observing, found nothing.

You sighed, fear escaping your body through a deep exhale.

Of course it was kind of silly to think a curse would’ve followed you; the Zen’in were brutes, but where not stupid when it came to jujutsu. Of course they wouldn’t allow a curse to stick around, running around like it owned the place, especially when there’s lots of civilians around.

It was refreshing to think you weren’t being followed—one less thing to worry about.

You sighed once more and closed your eyes in efforts to relax for a few seconds. Undoubtedly, stress was making its way to your mind and had you hearing, seeing things. You couldn’t wait for the moment Junko set you free from your responsibilities for the day and allowed you to rest again on your bed—alongside Naoya .

You frowned at the thought of sharing a bed with your despicable husband, and immediately shifted your thoughts to Hinata, the main reason why you were holding on.

Clearing your throat, you began to head back to your initial spot, wondering if Junko had finished doing whatever it was she was doing and what other places you’d—

Creeeeeaaak

Your eyes shot to the direction of the creak, and there, saw something that horrified you.

A small, pale hand had begun to creep from inside a nearby chamber.

Your jaw clenched as the hand carefully placed it’s thin fingers around the shoji door and began to slide it open, agonizingly slowly—almost a millimeter per second.

Your heart’s continuous efforts— having not been able to catch a break— made your ears throb and your chest ache, making it even harder to focus on the impending danger before you. Your vision blurred as you realized there was indeed a curse nearby and you had neither the weapons nor the preparation to defend yourself, or Junko for that matter.

Mind galloping a thousand miles per minute, your body shifted back towards Junko’s direction, mind set on getting her away first, move her to somewhere safer, and inform Naoya there was a curse on the loose. You didn’t care if speaking to him would cause you to be berated later on, there was a civilian who needed protection, and your ethical code as a sorcerer was to protect those weaker than you, even if it cost you your—

“What are you doing?”

Junko’s face came way sooner than you expected, her presence stopping you dead on your tracks; but with no seconds to waste, you regained your purpose and swiftly grabbed her hand to pull her away, contrary to the direction of the pale hand.

“There’s a curse around the corner!”

“What ?”she replicated in disbelief.

“It’s true! You can’t be here, it’ll attack you first if it sees you” You continued to explain, each step becoming harder to take as Junko adamantly tried to free herself from your grasp.

“Unhand me this instant!”

“I can’t—I have to get you somewhere safe!”

“I don’t care!” She cried, and one harsh thug later, she was free from your hand. You gasped as Junko headed back to the spot where you saw the supposed curse, fueled by anger to prove you wrong.

“Junko-san, no, wait !” When she turned around the corner, your body ran cold as you began to imagine the worst. A woman like her, who had dedicated all of her life tending the work of a house, had no preparation to deal with threats like this; even when growing around people who did. If you didn’t intervene, she would suffer the worst way possible! You still had a few seconds to save her, you just had to get to her quickly, just around the corner—! “Junko!”

And then…nothing.

You expected to find a bloodied battlefield, pieces of her clothing scattered around the ground, perhaps a few limbs here and there if the curses opted to take part of her body; but no. Instead, you found a very angered Junko, far more upset that you’ve ever seen her. Red-faced, fiery gaze locked onto yours as she barely held back the desire to scream out her frustrations.

And the pale hand…gone. The shoji door closed.

“I–”

“Are you well, Y/N?”

You knew that tone very well, and embarrassment became apparent on your cheeks in the form of a red streak, making your face turn even brighter. It’s only then that you realized how ridiculous you must’ve looked, even if what you saw was true, and how distorted the image she had of you had become.

This couldn’t mean well once Naoya was made aware of this.

“I…I’m just tired” you murmured and looked away, your last attempt to persevere whatever of your sanity was left. You weren’t necessarily lying, since you haven’t been able to get a well deserved rest ever since you married Naoya, but you didn’t think stress had already influenced you enough to start hallucinating…or to get you acting frantically, like a recently-discovered sorcerer.

“Let’s—just continue with your duties” You don’t know what prompted Junko to keep her cool, but were grateful she decided to take a calmer route.

But her reasoning was not one you would be fond of; the idea of pregnancy-induced stress flashed through her mind, inciting her to go easy on you this time. Nonetheless, she would now keep an even closer eye on you.

“There’s still one more thing to do” Junko said as she signaled you to the room where she previously was. You peered inside, where a small wooden table alongside a chair of the same material, stood in the middle of the room. And on top of it, just besides a lamp—a phone.

You didn’t think it was possible for your heart to drop even further into your stomach when you realized what it was time for, but with all things accounted for, why wouldn’t it?

Each time you were sent over the edge, your limit would expand, and that would allow your emotions to be overwhelmed at a higher frequency. At this point, it was a surprise you hadn’t gone through a heart attack.

And talking about your heart, which had gone through various peaks of stress throughout the day, now felt like it was on it’s last runs. Any second now , you mused, I’ll faint, and if I wake up…I don’t want to wake up .

But your survival instinct wasn’t one to give up easily, and by a miracle —even when your head started to become dizzy and your feet struggled to keep you up— you managed to walk over to the desk, where Junko had already picked up the phone from its base and handed it to you. If she noticed your illness, she did not comment.

“Naoya-sama already informed me of the reason for this call. If you try anything out of the ordinary, I’ll know and I won’t be afraid to put you on your place and let him know”

“That won't…be necessary” you breathed, trying to take in as much oxygen as possible for your brain to not blackout.

“We shall see” Looking down to the dial through blurred vision, you force yourself through the pain of pressing the combination of numbers pertaining to your home out of memory.

Junko observed carefully, wanting to make sure you weren’t calling any other number that could compromise their position and hummed in approval when the other line started beeping.

You swallowed as you psyched yourself to play the role of ditzy sister, one that didn’t mean to frighten by cutting all communication with her siblings but did so anyway without taking into consideration their feelings. One that would be of Naoya’s approval and obtain the meeting he desired to complete.

You were pushed through so many things at one, and this was only the beginning of your life as Naoya’s wife—could it get any worse from here onwards?

The phone beeped a few more times than what either anticipated, and Junko began to think that perhaps they weren’t available at the moment.

Preparing herself to take the phone away and ask you to try again later, she abruptly stopped when a voice came through the other side of the line.

A response that had the world stopping around you; as you prepared yourself to act the fool.

“L/N Residence?”

╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳

Hinata was someone many would consider unwavering and of strong character. Assertive —not afraid of calling out anyone on their wrong doings, but caring enough to show them how to do better.

Selfless and reliable. Whatever was asked of her, she would perform.

This led many to think of her as one of the most valuable sorcerers amongst the community, thus, forcing her to carry the highest number of missions per season.

And Hinata didn’t really care, in fact, she was more than happy to know that the jujutsu community trusted her to that extent. Never saying no to any request, even outside of formal missions.

It was with this mentality that she considered perhaps, being selfish for once, would be forgivable.

Her sister and family were in dire need of help, and in order to do something, they needed all of her attention. Thus, she wrote a request to jujutsu headquarters, asking for her missions to be transferred to her brother, Ren, who was more than interested in helping her sister, also turned in a request to take on her missions in hopes to show how serious they were.

Certainly, after all she’s done for the community, they would grant her this one favor, right?

Wrong

When a letter came back in response to her request, Hinata assumed she was granted permission and proceeded to excitedly open the envelope—only to rip it apart when she read the following contents.

To whom it may concern.

We are sorry to inform you that the request submitted by L/N HINATA was rejected.

We understand that this is the first time she has requested a change of this nature in her short—but impressive—career as a sorcerer, but due to the ongoing crisis of rising curse attacks, we find ourselves not being able to allow a single sorcerer to not carry out missions.

Nonetheless, we’ve come up with two solutions that we find might benefit your situation, and we hope you take them into consideration:

We will allow the maximum amount of 2 (two) missions to be transferred to another sorcerer of your choosing. (as long as they agree.)

Submit another request in 6 months.

We also want to take this time to commend L/N HINATA’s continuous efforts on maintaining peace amongst civilians and sorcerers, as well as to congratulate her sister on her recent marriage.

We hope to continue receiving your aegis.

Department of missions and expeditions, Tokyo, JPN.

Signed, Yoshimoto Osamu.

“Rejected?!” Hinata yelled at the top of her lungs, disbelief and skepticism pouring through her words “What do you mean rejected?!”

“I’m—sorry” A servant, and her close confidant of hers, tried easing her nerves, but to no avail. Hinata was reasonably upset by their rejection, but what irked her the most was how they cheekily congratulated you for your marriage, as if it would lessen the blow.

“It’s fine, it’s not your fault, Sumire.” Hinata sighed, rubbing the sides of her temples with her fingers. “But can you believe this?! After all I’ve done for them, they can’t even grant me this one request. And they even dared congratulate Y/N for her disgusting union with that Zen’in brat—in what world do they live in?!” She added, waving the letter into the air before deciding on ripping it apart. Sumire collected the torn pieces of paper and threw them in a trash can nearby.

“I think it might be because she married a Zen’in. They’re very influential amongst the community, perhaps they thought congratulating her through you might earn them points in their favor”

“Hah! That has to be the dumbest thing I ever heard—no offense”

“None taken” she laughed back, knowing Hinata didn’t meant to insult her, but rather, the naivety jujutsu headquarters presented with that mentality “But I do know what you mean”

“...and Gojo isn’t any better” Hinata scowled “Suddenly, he’s also inundated with missions and can’t make time to see me; but sure, he can go out in his daily hook-ups with no problem”

Sumire kept quiet for a few seconds, analyzing one of the many reasons why Gojo now decided to keep Hinata away, but nothing came to mind. He could be mysterious that way, when he wasn’t being silly, of course.

Instead, she decided to focus on a more serious topic, one that she’d constantly heard through the grapevine.

“Is the crisis really that bad?”

Hinata looked away, her thoughts back on to the last missions she’s completed and what they all had in common: Geto —or at least someone working under his name— was the author behind them.

After all, it had only been around 4 years since he decided to go rogue and disturb the jujutsu peaceful community—his actions left most of the sorcerers questioning what was holding them back from falling into villainy, if it weren’t by their moral standing, and more decided to join his cause.

The crisis many suspected would last around 2 years, started to lengthen by this same reason.

This put an enormous pressure on all that decided to stay behind and defend civilians—but Gojo, who had been the closest one to him, had to make the hardest decision.

Many didn’t consider the emotional turmoil he was going through, and instead of offering a supportive hand or empathetic words, simply dumped most of the responsibilities on him; being the strongest had its perks, but in this situation, it only seemed detrimental for him. This was one of the reasons Hinata and Ren decided to take on much more missions than usual, hoping that it would alleviate some pressure off his shoulders; yet trouble never seemed to rest, to the point where they went through months without being able to come back home.

If Sumire didn’t hear it from her, she would hear it from someone else. It was better for her to know via someone she trusted, in a more controlled environment.

“Yes; it’s been terrible”

Nonetheless, Hinata couldn’t help but think that many who had an evil seed in them, thought of the crisis as the right time to let out all of their frustrations. Could Naoya have taken advantage of this situation to hurt your family?

Sumire’s face contorted to fear and Hinata immediately regretted admitting the situation the jujutsu community found themselves in and rushed to calm her down.

“But don’t worry! We’ll manage. Ren is working very hard and—well, I shouldn’t be that angry that they rejected my request, I do have to care for my community after all. I’m sure Y/N would’ve understood” Hinata laughed nervously, trying to soothe Sumire’s worries with a bright grin. The servant nodded back in acknowledgement, suddenly remembering how strong the siblings truly were, a smile appearing on her lips as she really never had anything to worry about.

“What will you do now?” Sumire queried, tilting her head to the side, her big round eyes looking up to Hinata’s deep-in-thought face.

“I…guess I’ll take their proposal and assign 2 of my missions to Ren, it wasn’t what we agreed on, but it’ll give me some time to–”

“Sumire! Sumire!” A frantic voice followed by loud footsteps called from outside the room.

It didn’t take long before the author behind the calls soon came barging in through the door, spreading the shoji as far as possible and looking around the room for Sumire. “There you are, where is—Hinata-sama!”

“What’s wrong?!” Hinata exclaimed, reasonably concerned to see another servant, Hibiki, ruby-red faced and breathless. He leaned against the door, trying to catch his breath as he pointed to a spot outside the room.

“It’s—It’s Y/N! We got a call from her just now, she’s on the phone!” Hinata and Sumire exchanged surprised looks, and without further comments, the two rushed towards the room with the nearest phone—a wireless gray telephone placed on hold.

Hinata picked it from its base and held it against her right ear, urging Sumire to check if there were no unwanted bystanders and close the door. The last thing she wanted was for her father to casually wander through the halls (although he hasn’t moved much from his room since her confrontation, but at least he stopped drinking) or for the elders to catch ear of Y/N’s call and interfere with her investigation. Although the timing of the call was odd enough as it was…

Hinata took one last deep breath, before clicking on the hold button and greeted her missing sister.

There was much catching up to do.

“Hello?”

“Hinata”

“Y/N! Where have you been? Are you ok? Is everything alright–”

“Yes! Yes, I’m sorry I wasn’t able to contact you before; but I’m here now” Her voice, although a bit distorted by the static from an old phone speaker, was clear enough to be interpreted as fearful. This only deepened Hinata’s concern. “Just busy getting accustomed to my new life, that’s all!”

“We were worried…you didn’t respond any of the messages”

“Oh, I know…I didn’t mean to worry you. The Zen’in have a huge house, I’d be surprised if you didn’t get lost!” a nervous laugh; your sister was now sure you were not alone whilst making this call. There was no way you didn’t notice how long you were gone. But she wasn’t foolish enough to go ahead and ask you that directly. “Talking about the estate…”

“Yes?”

“I want you to come visit me”

Hinata’s throat constricted as she struggled to choose the right words to respond.

The words she wanted to hear for so long, the chance to finally see you, now coming out of your mouth, yet they felt…wrong. It’s like you didn’t mean them genuinely, like you were reading them from a nearby book or paper. And Sumire’s concerned face meant she thought the same.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes!” You responded, cheerfully even. Did you notice how suspicious you sounded, and was now trying to cover it up? “I just thought it would be better to talk in person. You know, I haven’t been able to contact you because I just got back from my honeymoon and settling down in a new place is always so hard–”

“What about my text messages?” Hinata interrupted your rambling. If you didn’t have it in you to tell her what she wanted to hear, then she’ll do it herself. “I know you’ve seen them”

“I’ll explain everything when you’re here. When can you come?”

Hinata gave a long and hard thought to the available dates she could travel; it was far from the ideal scenario she envisioned having when you finally reached out, but in a way, felt like it was the best outcome. This way, she would be able to confront you, alone, no one else peering over your shoulder when talking to her. Just two sisters trying to reconnect.

With one sigh intertwined with determination and a twinge of economic regret, she dictated:

“Tomorrow”

“Alright. We’ll see you here”

“Y/N wait–!”

But it was too late, before Hinata could fit in another word, you’ve already hung up. All that was left behind were the beeping noises coming through the phone, indicating the line had been promptly closed and the nervous looks Sumire was darting between your sister’s face and the telephone.

Both women, too busy assimilating what just occurred to do anything else, stood speechless as the air around them began to fill with tension. Your call, prompted out of nowhere, had been short and to the point. You didn’t even take the time to ask about her or your brother…your father…nothing.

This wasn’t like you— at all. If anything, it seemed like you were reciting a script, from the way you faked your laugh to the mannerisms in your speech. But ask fake as that sounded, it was still you, there’s no doubt about it. It was your voice.

“Is…everything alright, Hinata?”

“No” she frowned, but Hinata wasn’t one to dwell too much into the past and her mind began recounting the fastest way to travel. “Nothing is alright…but it doesn’t matter. I’ll buy the earliest airplane ticket to Kyoto—no matter the cost— and see what is going on with my sister. I’ll deal with the place to stay once I’m there”

“Do you want me to tell Ren? Or your father?”

“It’s tempting but…it’s too early for them to get involved. Sumire, keep an eye on the elders and if they say anything about the bank statement, because I know they will , just tell them I had a last-minute mission to take care of”

She bit her lip and nodded eagerly, taking in her new duties; but more than a servant who was obediently following her master’s requests, Sumire was looking out for a dear friend. She, too, loved you very much.

“It’s time to end this ruse”

╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳

A few hours later, after going through the tedious work that is airport clearance and picking up her small luggage, Hinata was on her way to the Zen’in estate.

There were moments where she thought that visiting you tomorrow was a mistake, a logistic miscalculation (and an economic punishment for her bank account) one that would linger heavily in her mind—but then, the urge to see you, to know about your wellbeing and rescue you quickly overwrote those lethargic musings and went forward with her plan. Even with the accumulating expenses that began skyrocketing in numbers, that didn’t stop her. If her money wasn’t there to help her sister, then what use did it have?

Luckily, she managed to book a room in a hotel relatively close to the Zen’in estate. Only 20 minutes away by car, perhaps a bit more since they lived almost at the outskirts of the city and animals tended to cross the roads and stop traffic, but if everything occurred as planned, then she would be able to see you for the first time in 3 weeks.

With no time to spare for sleep, Hinata placed her bags on the cheapest, minimalist room she found, ( I just need a bed and a bathroom , she said to the receptionist who was adamant in booking her in a room with a balcony, plus unnecessary add-ons to make her stay more pleasant ) and called the taxi service.

It was a relatively quiet ride, even when the driver tried to ease the tension settling in the air by commenting on the surrounding tourist locations, hoping to intrigue interest and maybe, more work to get paid for, but Hinata had no intentions on entertaining him, her mind solely focused on you.

He eventually offered to play music, turn on the radio, just about anything to alleviate the nerves of her shoulders (and perhaps soothe himself as well, as her silence began to inundate him with 2 possibilities: your sister was a ghost, or she was going to kidnap him), but all attempts were shut down by your sister's quiet no, thank you’s and if you’d like to hear something, go ahead .

Eventually, just on the top of the furthest hill up north, surrounded by massive trees and abundant rivers, the Zen’in estate became apparent to all eyes inside the car. Even when enclosed by the vegetation native to the area, it still remained imposing and prominent.

The architectural design of the estate brought an air of royalty and power, enough to imply that whoever lived there was far from poor and had more than enough to spare, but not humble enough to offer shelter to wandering souls who misjudged the estate as a ryokan.

“We’re almost here” the driver announced, and Hinata looked up from her phone—which she had used to distract herself to make the trip shorter, as well as to check if no one had managed to figure out her whereabouts, she’d thank Sumire for that later— to the window before her. The sight of the building where you were locked away brought her a new wave of anxiety and eagerness—one rooted in the prospect of being so close to seeing you once again.

Once at the top, it only took a few more minutes of driving along the paved road before the entrance to the estate became visible.

Two wooden doors, as tall as the nearby trees, proudly stood adjacent to the main road. The Zen’in clan symbol is engraved on a pillar beside them, continued by stone walls surrounding the property, nothing can be seen through them except for the branches of the trees peeking through the top.

Hinata looked at the driver and took out a few bills from her wallet, amounting to the price he’d initially stated the ride would cost, plus an extra, and informed him to wait; for she’ll need a ride back to the hotel once she was done. The man nodded and received the bills with a glimmer in his eye, replying:

“Take your time, I’ll wait for you here”

She nodded and closed the door behind her once completely out.

Hinata wasn’t one to be known as frequently nervous, but visiting a strangers land had her agitated, and her hands searched comfort by playing with the strap of her bag. She took quick steps towards the door and reached for the door-knocker, a large and heavy bronze hoop protruding from the right side of the entrance. Hinata picked it up with one hand and slammed it against the rectangular piece of the same material below it, 3 loud bangs trembled across the door and then—silence.

Your sister was counting the seconds to when the door would open. After 10, she was motivated to knock again until she heard shuffling on the other side of the entrance, someone unlocking the door and slowly pushing it open. There, the face of a young servant came forward, eyes locking into each other’s gaze, face void of any emotion; Hinata was unsettled by the look of the young woman before her. A twinge of ire began to sprout in the depths of her mind as she imagined the conditions she could only assume the Zen’in forced her to work in—would she find you in this state as well?

Her thoughts were cut short as the servant motioned her inside, Hinata took one last look to the outsides, back to the taxi driver who was all too happy recounting the bills he just received, and finally stepped inside.

“Welcome, L/N-san, we were waiting for you”

It’s time to reveal the truth.

╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳

The night before your sister's arrival, you did not get a wink of sleep.

Twisting and turning around the futon, your mind ran a thousand miles an hour as you recounted the conversation you had earlier with your sister through the phone, and the horrifying experience that rattled your sense of reality.

Without any surprise, your sister was quick to notice there was something wrong in the way you spoke, but her questions were not to be answered that moment; not with Junko peering over your shoulder to check if you were saying the right things, not giving out any hints of your mistreatment.

Naoya was visibly pleased to hear that your sister had agreed to come over to the estate, and in such a short notice too, but failed to see how all of these quickly occurring successions could rid you of a good night's sleep. And apparently Junko decided to keep your little scare private from Naoya, evident by how he didn’t comment on it when eating dinner together, or later at night, when the two of you were in the privacy of your shared chambers.

Nonetheless, you still managed to irritate him by your constant movement across the bed and he eventually snapped, ordering you to get yourself together or to sleep on the floor. You sheepishly apologize, not giving him reasons for your agitation, and excused yourself to the bathroom, where you would splash a bit of water onto your face in hopes of refreshing your tense façade as well as to take, much needed look into the mirror.

The woman who greeted you back was a stranger.

She was nothing but the shadow of who used to be: a young, cheerful, full of life, energetic woman. One that had a whole promising future ahead, someone that had the opportunity to choose whatever she wanted to do, supported by those who loved her dearly.

But now, you were stripped of those characteristics, relegated to being the wife of an heir and nothing else; but far from enjoying the luxury that title usually conveyed, you were forced to sit back, stay quiet, cast away any desire in favor of your husbands and leave your future in the hands of strangers.

It was blatantly obvious in your face that you were far from happy—Hinata would certainly notice and push you further into answering her demands. But Naoya didn’t intend the meeting to go that way, you had a part to play if you wanted to satisfy him.

Thus, you forced a smile on your lips, rehearsing the look you would give your sister when seeing her for the first time in 3 weeks, and prayed she would believe you before going back to bed with your husband.

The next morning, just like every day, your ladies picked you up from the room and led you to the bathroom.

They heard of your sister’s visit just moments earlier, and although they didn’t know much about the relationship you had with your family —or if you had any at all since you kept quiet in allot of matters pertaining to your life before the Zen’in— nonetheless, they still treated it like a special occasion and dressed you up another beautiful yukata , this time pink and with white embroidery, courtesy of Hitomi.

To your surprise, Haruko kept unusually quiet as she tended to your hair; but would occasionally throw a few cheerful comments here and there, thus, you didn’t give it much thought, perhaps she wasn’t feeling very well this morning.

Mariya didn’t speak much either way, but still gave you a reassuring smile—one that fell deaf to your acknowledgement, still wounded by her betrayal.

Hitomi was always quiet, but blushed and thanked you when you complimented her work.

Once ready, your ladies-in-waiting took you to a garden in a section you briefly visited with Junko days prior, on the south side of the estate.

It was spacious, filled with a mix of daisies and lilies, a combination you didn’t know was in season, yet, took time to appreciate its beauty.

In the middle of the garden, stood 2 stone benches and a small table, one that you assumed was rarely used since it was covered in dirt—promptly removed with the help of Hitomi and a piece of cloth.

You carefully walked all the way to the center of the garden and sat down on one of the benches, you spread the skirt of your yukata downwards until it was fixed, and looked up to your staff.

“We’ve been informed that your sister is already here.” Mariya said, while Haruko placed a cup of tea before you, to calm your nerves , she said.

Your ears perked at the sudden information and your shoulders tensed with yearning.

“Naoya-sama will join you momentarily” The 3 women gave a courteous bow and left the same way they entered, leaving you with the flowers as companions.

Somehow, Naoya’s presence in your meeting with Hinata did not come as a surprise. If he wanted things done correctly, then he must be present, or at least that’s what he must’ve considered when arranging this gathering. He didn’t speak to you that morning, and in fact, he didn’t even indulge in his perverted fantasies last night, which took you as another surprise.

He instead opted to keep his thoughts and hands away from you, as he prepared to change himself for the day and share breakfast with you.

Perhaps he too, was too nervous to think about anything else that wasn’t your sister.

Nonetheless that silence was temporary, once the deed was done, he would go back to torment you, now without restraints—your family effectively out of sight.

Hearing footsteps approaching from your right side, you quickly turned around to see who it was; in the back of your mind you hoped it was your sister, only to be received by the image of a very serious Naoya.

“Your sister is here, you know what that means, don’t you?”

You pressed your lips together and nodded.

“Don’t try to do anything funny , wife. I’ll be quick to put you in your place, in front of your sister, even!” He chuckled, his serious facade now gone, replaced by his usual cockiness, and you suppressed the dark feeling beginning to prosper at the bottom of your stomach. “The servants are bringing her in, I wonder what face she’ll have when she sees you”

And just as he said, another set of footsteps became noticeable; this time, from the left. Your head slowly turned to the origin of the noise, eyes focusing into the depths of the halls, as you knew they could only belong to one person, and one person only. And there…you saw her—Hinata.

Contrary to you, she was not taken aback by the beauty or the garden before her or the decorations around the house, her mind and gaze was solely focused on you, and once she saw you in her reach, rushed towards your figure.

“Y/N!” she cried, ready to embrace you in the tightest of hugs she could possibly give, but was promptly stopped upon noticing the presence of your husband. She, too, was not surprised to see he’d decided to be present during your talk. She cleared her throat and composed herself “I’m…happy to see you. Both of you” Hinata lied through gritted teeth, but her tone managed to paint her words as genuine. Although she didn’t really care if Naoya caught her lie, she just wanted to see you.

“Hello, sister” You greeted, the smile you’ve been practicing hours before making itself visible. Your cheeks coated with moderate amounts of blush, and the faintest amount of lip gloss, had your face looking far more angelic that Hinata remembered, and much more happier than you really were; although with or without makeup, you’d always been her innocent little sister, no fact could change that. “I’m glad you could make it in such short notice! I didn’t think you would be able to come; please, sit down! It must’ve been a quick but tiring trip”

“Anything for you, sis” Hinata replied as she took your invitation and sat down on the bench across from you. Naoya followed suit and sat beside you, his eyes now locked on your sister’s. “It wasn’t that bad. I managed to find everything very quickly”

“Where are you staying?” you asked, swallowing the other questions you wished to ask, and choosing a more natural topic to keep the conversation flowing.

“A small family owned inn. I just needed the basics, I don’t play on staying long”

And I don’t want you to, Naoya wanted to add, but held back his desire by giving her a small smile instead.

“You could’ve told us, we would’ve arranged something for you” Naoya feigned care and this irked Hinata the wrong way.

“Perhaps another time” your sister responded, quickly shutting his offering and focusing on you once more. “Y/N…how…have you been?”

“Me? Oh, good. You know, busy” You shrugged “There’s so many things to do, I just spend most of my time helping the staff around to alleviate some of the duties”

This brought forth an old memory in Hinata’s mind.

She remembers well the time when you were a child, when you would hide in the kitchen, away from the servants in hopes of getting to wash the dirty dishes before them. Even when your older relatives reminded you that it was part of their duties, you countered them, saying:

They take care of me, so I want to take care of them!

It was always in your nature to help others, thus, Hinata became more tranquil when she heard you still preserved a bit of your kindness.

Sadly, it was far from the truth, and it was because you knew how she thought of you, that you decided to say those words when you did. It was all part to keep her compliant, unsuspecting…

“That’s good.” Hinata said, unconsciously inching closer towards you. “I…there’s something that I want to ask”

“What’s up?”

“Why didn’t you respond to my messages after you saw them? And have you received any of my letters?” You swallowed. It obviously didn’t take long before Hinata began asking the tough questions. She wasn’t one to go around in circles and avoid the main topic of her concern, no. Your sister always went straight to the point—and with much more reason, now that her mission was you.

“I–” you began, trying to hold back the evident hesitance in your tone. You could feel Naoya’s gaze on you, voicing, don’t fuck it up! You looked down to the floor, and up to her eyes. Her gaze determined in getting an answer.

You cleared your throat and continued.

“Hah, you’re not going to believe it! Remember that video I sent you a long time ago, about a hiker who wanted to take a picture of the landscape but dropped his phone?”

“Yeah…?” she responded, somewhat seeing where this conversation was going.

“Well, guess what happened to me!” You laughed, and Hinata raised an eyebrow in skepticism.

“You… lost your phone?” “Yeah, I dropped it! Naoya and I decided to walk on one of the trails nearby, and I wanted to take a picture so I could send it to you and Ren, but when I took my phone out it slipped through my fingers and…well, the forest is very big. I think it might’ve fallen on a nearby river. Ah, but you should’ve seen the view! It was impressive.”

“How long ago was that? Like, how many days into your honeymoon?” Hinata queried, judging by her face, she did not seem to believe…some of your words.

“I-I…I think like 3 days maybe?”

“Then that can’t be possible. I sent you messages like 5 days into your honeymoon”

You internally cursed and Naoya’s frown deepened. Instead of stepping in and trying to cover your mistake, he only blamed you for not being able to tell a convincing lie to your sister.

He began berating you.

Women were too stupid to plan ahead, they’re too emotional and only think about—

“That’s… scary, Hinata.” Your quick wit responded; the best way to get out of this situation was to fake that someone now had possession of your supposed lost phone, which in reality was stored away in one of the basements of the estate, turned off with chip removed so you wouldn’t be able to contact anyone, if you somehow managed to find it. Now you just have to convince her. “Have you received anything else from my number?”

“No” Hinata frowned “Was I supposed to?”

“I mean, I hope not! I don’t have that phone anymore, I left it back there in the forest…maybe…I think maybe someone found it and has been using it—Hinata…I think it’s best if you block my number, like…tell my carrier to disable my phone”

“What? ”

“Yeah! I have many contacts there and private information…I know you always told me to never put information regarding my missions or the jujutsu community, but I couldn’t help it and now…I don’t know what I would do if it fell into the wrong hands” You continued to thread another web of lies. And by the look of Hinata’s eyes, she seemed to believe you. “Please”

“I–I guess?” Hinata, still confused by your words, responded. You didn’t make any sense…unless it did? It would explain why you didn’t respond to any of her messages or why the tracker in your phone no longer worked. Your cellphone was probably out there, being sold in an underground market after being promptly wiped out of all it’s contents. If that were the case, then no information was at risk of being leaked; but she also didn’t believe you would be foolish enough to do specifically what she requested you not to—but Gojo often did it, so why would it stop you? “And the letters?”

“I haven't received any letters” You looked at Naoya “Have we?”

“No” he followed your initiative “We’ve been missing a lot of mail recently, we think someone might be stealing from us to get information on my clan—probably a conspirator of Geto’s”

Hinata had no way to either prove or disprove his accusations.

Mail theft was a felony that had become more common these past few months; and although most of it were pertaining to everyday civilians, there were a few packages labeled as jujutsu business that were interjected by curse users, adding another felony to their ever growing list of crimes.

To combat this situation, Hinata offered the solution of sealing certain contents to avoid unwanted eyes prying on their information, but it didn’t take long before the seals were broken in and everyone found themselves back at square one.

Perhaps Naoya was telling the truth this time.

Nonetheless, for him to speak of Geto’s name so casually brought disgust to your sister. Even if he was a criminal, Geto had been a close friend of hers, and he certainly did not deserve to say his name.

“I see…that’s unfortunate. How will I be able to talk to my sister, if her phone is lost and mail won’t go through?”

“Well, Naoya and I thought that maybe you could visit, from time to time, you know? Just to check how things are and see how my family is doing” You added with a grin, bright as the sun, as if this was the solution to all of her problems. But far from being the medicine to her illness, it only brought sickness to her stomach. There was a perfectly good phone somewhere inside the walls of this estate, that was being intentionally kept away from your reach. Why weren’t you offering that alternative? Why were you excusing your lack of communication?

Why were you pushing her away?

“But the call—”

“Oh, that’s a phone solely used for business matters, not personal. The line has to be clear at all times for the Zen’in to be able to receive calls, there’s not a single time where that phone isn’t ringing!” You giggled, the collar of your yukata carefully sliding away, revealing part of your neck. Noticing your exposed skin, you quickly pulled the cloth up, back to its original place and rested your hand on your husband’s lap. “That’s why I had to cut you short, I’m sorry”

After a few seconds of silence and analyzing the alternatives, Hinata’s lips began to curve into a wide smile, as if suddenly, it all made sense.

“Ah, I should’ve known! The Zen’in are a very big and influential clan, of course they wouldn’t have time to let us sisters hog the phone all day!” Hinata laughed, and her reaction caused you to flinch. Naoya, who had been silently observing the two sisters interact with one another, was also taken aback by her sudden change of behavior, but that surprise was soon replaced with satisfaction. “I’m sorry about the mail though, my clan and I have been trying to come up with alternatives to lower the number of reports, but to no avail”

“There’s nothing to apologize” Naoya gave her a sympathetic smile and he looked back at you “It’s something that was bound to happen after all the attacks”

Hinata was finally convinced that you were ok, and it was now time to send her away—for good.

“I’m glad you understand, Hinata.” You added, your husband gently squeezing your hand as you began to see what he was seeing. You began to seal your fate by swallowing the agony of your next words ”For now, we would like to have more time to ourselves, I have to get used to the clan, if you know what I mean”

“Of course, a just-married couple needs all the time they can get their hands on before finally settling down. Besides, you two are from an arranged marriage, so there’s a lot of things to learn from one another—no offense.”

“I’m glad everything is clear” The last ray of hope you were desperately clinging onto was destroyed. Ripped apart, burned to the ground, nothing left but the ashes of your despair.

Hinata, who you believed knew you the most, who you trusted to catch the hints you tried to convey on your tone or on the words you chose to speak, fell into your deceivement and thought of you as unredeemable.

Perhaps this solitude you always felt wasn’t feigned. You truly deserved to be alone.

“I guess that’s it then. I’m glad you’re ok, oh, before I forget, Sumire, Ren and Dad said hi! They’re doing well, but I don’t want you to worry much about them, focus on your life right now” Hinata beamed as she stood from the bench, looking around as if trying to remember where she came from “I would like to stay more time, join you for dinner, but I have to go, since I have a few pending missions so…uh…do you mind leading me to the exit?”

“Of course not, follow me” Naoya offered and you stood up, wanting to see your sister off one last time, although your husband much preferred you stayed behind. He’d allow it this time, he thought, like the final fuck you to your sister. Sealing his victory once and for all.

It didn’t take long before the 3 of you stood by the entrance, wooden doors now open for your sister to leave whenever she was ready. Hinata rubbed her hands with one another as she tried to warm herself up from the sudden gust of wind that sent chills traveling up her spine. She commented on the upcoming weather, and how winter was estimated to be far worse than last year, earning some chuckles and comments back from you and your husband.

“Well, I guess this is it” Hinata stood before you, her eyes filled with the warmth and relief of a woman who got what she looked for. Her visage could not hurt you more, as the image of the always supporting sister turned corrupted; she was now a stranger.. “I had no reason to be worried”

“I’m glad you’re better now” You said, grinning as widely as possible to stop the forming tears on the corners of your ears from falling. But far from stopping them, your gesture only caused you to feel even more miserable, and before you knew it, you were crying.

“Oh, Y/N” Hinata cooed “I’ll be back before you know it”

“I–It’s fine, I just—”

“We don’t want to keep you busy, Hinata” Naoya intervened “Or your taxi for that matter”

“Ah, I’m sure he can wait a bit. I just want to hug my sister goodbye, is that alright with you, brother-in-law?”

Naoya held back a scoff and looked away before nodding in approval, not wanting to see any more of their emotional interaction, not when he already had what he wanted.

Hinata stared at you for a few seconds, and gave you a soft smile as her hand gently patted your cheek, swiping away the hot tears with a swift nudge. You hopelessly held back a sob as she wrapped her arms around you, pulling you into a tight embrace. Her face rested over your shoulder, as her warm breath fell against your ear.

She continued to coo and reassure you that her visit, although temporary, was not the least one, that she’ll be back in no time, after she finished her missions. She sealed her words with a kiss on your head and you sobbed once more.

You hugged her back, tightly as possible, with no intention of letting her go. Your body unconsciously attempted to reach out to her one last time, another attempt to see if she could make out your desperate cry for help, before your mind dictated it was pointless—with her words, it was clear she’d already given up on you.

But before you could pull away, Hinata placed her lips as close as possible to your ear, and whispered, low enough for Naoya or anyone else for that matter, not to hear, but loud enough for you to understand.

“I”ll get you out of here, I just need time”

Your breath hitched, eyes widening as you slowly turned to meet your sister’s gaze.

Instead of finding the glimmer of an ignorant sister who believed you were ok, you found an unbreakable determination you previously thought yourself unworthy of.

Hinata was not stupid.

When you laughed and your collar started to fall out of place, her eyes were quick enough to travel down to your uncovered skin, before you fixed it away, and saw a horrifying fact unfold before her that made everything make sense.

Underneath your yukata, by your collarbones, were two darkened bruises, surrounded by patches of red skin, apparently from recent wounds. There was also a light tremble on your fingers as you moved to cover the sight she wasn't supposed to notice, stopping her trailing gaze to fall further into your cleave, where more hickeys were hidden.

Having this shocking revelation made all of your excuses make sense.

You weren’t saying these things because they were the truth, or because you wanted to stay away from her. You were saying them because Naoya held you captive, and he was abusing you! This was far from settling down and getting along with the servants, you probably haven’t been able to see anything outside his disgusting face!

The nerve of this man to hurt you had your sister seeing red, and she was more than ready to lunge over your husband and choke him to death–but your presence and reality of her surroundings stopped her.

She was inside the Zen’in estate, surrounded by members who swore loyalty to Naoya; if she were to attack him, there was no doubt in her mind that someone would seek retribution, and your fate would end up being worse than it currently was.

Hinata berated herself for even considering that the words you were spewing held an ounce of truth; but once felt her time at the estate quickly coming to an end, she was forced to prepare a plan that would inform you she unveiled everything.

Thus, she gave you her own rendition of the Kiss of Judas , but instead of sentencing you to death, she was sentencing you to salvation.

Fight, Y/N. Fight! Because I’m not giving up on you .

A sudden spark of confidence began to ignite from the depths of your mind as Hinata pulled away from your warm embrace. This had been the truth the entire time: you were not alone.

Your sister, as expected, was quick to notice there was something wrong and saw through your faked deceivement. She was just playing along to not get caught.

Suddenly, you felt you had all the power in the world, enough to fight Naoya off until your sister saved you.

But you were not one to keep still with arms crossed. You would help Hinata in your own way, from behind enemy lines, anything to complete the new mission she had entrusted herself with.

“I’ll see you later. Take care” Hinata said one last goodbye and exited the estate, wooden doors eventually closed by nearby servants.

You looked back at Naoya and held back the urge to smile and mock his stupid idea of bringing your sister down.

Perhaps he underestimated the strong bond siblings could have because he never bothered to get along with them. He thought it easy to break something he didn’t understand, but in the areas that he lacked, others would strive; his lack of social skills and human decency was to be his downfall, and your sister’s conviction was living proof of that statement.

“That was easy” Naoya grinned as he walked towards you, one of his fingers wiping away the tears that managed to ruin your makeup “Your tears even had me feel pity for you two”

You nodded, using the sleeve of your kimono to pick up the remnants of your almost-dried tears,

“Ah, well, it doesn’t matter. She’s out of the picture, and I can finally focus on my missions” He shrugged, turning around and heading to the inside of the halls, you closely trailing behind him. “It’s done.”

“Yes.” you smiled, basking in the glory of your first victory over him. “It's done.”

#naoya zen'in x reader #naoya zenin #naoya zen'in #naoya zenin x you #jjk fic #jjk imagines #jjk x you #jjk naoya #series: first it hurts—

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hypercementosis · 3 years

Text

|| Choices // 01

genre heavy angst + unrequited love

pairing Gojo Satoru/Reader

↳ Choices we’re bound to make in life don’t always turn out well, and you would have to learn that the hard way, maybe should you have listened to your sister when she tried to dissuade you from marrying a man that you didn’t know, as charming as he might seem.

materlist ⇥ part two

“So you’re telling me that if, hypothetically, I accept marrying the infamous Gojo Satoru, my sister won’t have any more problems?”

It took you a moment to wrap your mind around what they just told you. From the top of your 19 years, you weren’t really conscious of the harsh truths surrounding you. You always thought that an exorcist’s holy grail was to be promoted to the special grade. What a surprise it was when you understood that it was but a means to keep in leash those considered too dangerous for the world.

Truth be told, from all that you’ve just been told, it was this one piece of news that hauled the biggest reaction out of you. Them, the upper class of crimes from the top of their seats, couldn’t see things from your point of view. Yuki was your big sister, your model, your family, your blood. How could they paint her into a person to be wary of, she who taught you everything, who made you the exorcist that you are today.

“Well…Tsukumo Yuki is a head to shoot down, you should be aware of that”says a voice that’s hard for you to identify. “It would be better for you and your family to be protected by the name of the most powerful exorcist, don’t you think?”

Thinking correctly was an arduous task for you, the placid flow that was your daily life would never be the same again starting today. Because even if the elders, like you liked calling them, feigned kindness, pretending that they only wanted the best for you; you could easily perceive a menacing aura hovering over your head.

You raised your head toward your interlocutors: the counsel. Their faces were hidden under some kind of curtain, cutting short any tentative to read their expressions and decipher their true intentions. Spinning from left to right, looking up and down at the white fabric, you try putting on a serene air before inhaling deeply.

“You’re telling me that my sister is a danger, but you want me to marry a man that’s even more dangerous than her? You want me to throw myself in the arms of a man that’s considered a weapon of mass destruction…I don’t believe a single word of”- you were cut short by an outcry of offended voices that you refuse to bend like a tree against the wind to their inquisitions.

“You would be perfect for him with this attitude of yours.”

“We were just discussing your eventual promotion to the special grade” continues another, hiding a threat.

If even an ounce of doubt was still lingering within you, then it has surely dissipated now. The choice offered to you was clear: accept and give up your freedom to the goodness of a perfect stranger. Or refuse and put into peril that which you cherished the most.

Youu are a smart girl, often solicited for your capacity to react swiftly, considering in no time everything that could and could not turn badly, making you a more than precious ally on the field. But in this moment right here, the cogs of your mind started to rust, unable to put one idea before another, plunging you in a frightening lethargy. You needed time to understand, and you could feel that you were short of it. You were being manipulated, for god knows what reason, and it seemed like you had nothing else to say back.

“Well then, you reply. I’ll inform you of my decision as soon as possible.”

“Tomorrow.”cuts off a crackling feminine voice, hinting at the age of its owner.

You shake your head slowly from left to right, hoping that it would, maybe, pull you out of this phantasmagory of which you’re the actress. You felt your fists tighten, canalizing your emotions in a way that would prevent you from spilling words that would cost you more than you could afford to lose. You slowly turn your heels, without answering, without a last glance and before you could even realize it, your legs were leading you far from this place, leaving behind a pack of hounds debating on wether you would accept or not. Your fate was sealed, the film of your nightmare starting to smoothly untangle in front of your eyes.

Once outside, you turn around toward the building that sheltered the counsel. From here, it looked like a little hut in the middle of a forest, protected -or rather camouflaged by a barrier set by master Tengen. You slowly lean against one of the surrounding trees, letting your head fall against the trunk and granting your eyes some rest. What were you going to do? Your parents weren’t young anymore, you were the only one left in the household. Everything always depended on you, on your missions, on your presence; your house was pulled out of the gloominess that was the daily life of exorcists, thanks to your jokes, your goofiness, your clumsiness, your anectodes. You didn’t come back home grumbling anymore -because a certain Zenin would forget too often that you weren’t his maid, you didn’t come back home from your outings with Utahime. Now that you thought about it, wasn’t it actually him that made her grumble?

A little smile pulled at the corner of your lips, you knew that Gojo had a reputation as an inveterate seducer, and for having seen him before, you could easily understand why. How many women would be ready to sell their souls to the devil to be in your place? You knew it, you knew damn well, and yet a little pinch at your heart prevented you from seeing even an infinitesimal gleam within what was just announced to you.

You were pulled out of your reflections by stepping noises in the grass, getting closer and closer to you. You slowly turn your head in the direction of the sound to see a slender silhouette, blond, a helmet under their arm.

“So, what kind of mission did they try to slap on you? Saving the world from an extraterrestrial creature? Bringing back a piece of the moon? Or maybe…put off a fire on Mars! More seriously, these people here can be total nuts sometimes!”

“I’m going to get married.”

Yuki froze for a few seconds, seconds that felt like hours to you, before going into a hysterical laughter, not imagining for one second that what you just said could contain even an ounce of truth. But her laugh soon let place to worry when she saw your expression flinching, crying at her that it was absolutely not a joke.

“Oh no…They wouldn’t dare. She said. And with who? The pope’s son?”

“Gojo Satoru.”

“Gojo Satoru?”

“Gojo Satoru.”

“I heard you the first time, you know. But…how? Why him? If he wanted to marry you he would simple have told me instead of going through a bunch of old decrepit. Also, last time I checked, he didn’t really like them. And since when do you two know each other?”

The look you just threw at your sister answered her questions quick enough. You didn’t personally know him, and you knew absolutely nothing of the circumstances that led to this decision. The only thing that you could be sure of was that one way or another, people, whoever they were, had something to gain from you being married, or that Gojo was. You never represented any danger to anyone, you were subordinate, you never disputed orders and you were useful in what you did, there was no apparent reason for you to make a U-turn. However, you couldn’t say as much for Gojo, something indirectly confirmed by your sister’s words. He was probably becoming uncontrollable, rebelling and challenging the word of people who always had, for very long years, their hands wrapped around the decisions of this world. But what’s a marriage, with a girl who didn’t even come from a notorious family, going to change? That was what you couldn’t get.

“In my opinion, he’s probably unaware of this. Gojo isn’t the type to…you know, commit. I don’t think it’s serious.”

“They didn’t look like they were joking.”

“You should talk to him-“

“No, absolutely not. If these people want to play marriage agencies then they might as well carry it to the end.” You replied, seeming way too indifferent about the situation. Yuki was even wondering if you were aware of what was expected of you.

You didn’t want to meet him, and even if you were to accept it, you would only see him once it was inevitable: your honeymoon. For now, it was just hot air, nothing serious. Or at least it won’t be unless you give your final answer. Meeting him would make things too official, and that scared you.

“Listen, we’ll talk about this at home. Or around a drink, look at that! My lil’ sis is now of drinking age.”

Yuki extends her hand toward you, caressing your forearm with the tip of her fingers. Maybe one day, you won’t get the privilege to any of this tenderness, this affection. Reality was catching up to you, and with it a river of tears comes surging, reddening your eyes. You weren’t ready for all of this, you weren’t even twenty and yet you were stripped of all that was yours. Your sister notices that, then pulls you against her, your head barely reaching the space between her throat and shoulder. Your cheek was plastered against her skin in such an intimate contact that you could easily feel her beating heart. Her carotid rhythmically pulsing the blood, beating against you, following a calm and regular rhythm whereas your heart slowly started to race. Maybe your body’s reaction was quicker than your mind, was that a sign? Was it mother nature yelling at you to run before it was too late ?

A warm and gentle hand pulls you out of your thoughts as it lodges in your hair, caressing it from the top to the tips in the same steady timing. Now that you think of it, Yuki has always been a very steady person in her actions. It made you think about the way that people imagined her, and how they could be so wrong. To them, she was a reckless woman, an adult child, a person in possession of great power over which she’d never take responsibility. But you, you knew that it wasn’t her. Yuki never left anything to chance, each calorie she spent was calculated, consumed in a specific goal. And even if she never had been clear on the reasons which led her to take off, claiming an untamable desire to discover the world, you knew, deep down, that there was something she was trying to hide from the world.

“It’d be best if we went back home, I need to announce all of this to mom and dad.”

“What are you planning to do?” She asked while leading you toward the bike.

“I don’t know, I have until tomorrow to give them an answer on what might be the most important decision in my whole life, these guys are insane!”

You abruptly lift your arm in the air, showcasing your frustration, which can only make the blondie laugh as she puts a helmet over your head, covering your eyes along the way, stretching along with it your lips into a little rictus whilst you climb behind her on the motorbike.

As per usual, whenever you ride together, you’d pinch her sides from time to time, and she’d answer with a grumble even if it didn’t bother her; a bunch of little habits that made up your intimacy and complicity with her.

Once home, Yuki turns off the motor but decides against coming down right away. Instead, she puts one foot on the ground to maintain her stance then bares her head, letting the wind play with her blonde mane. She stays there, frozen for a moment, before sighing, searching for the best words, which was totally unlike her.

“I have a little idea on what they’ll tell you, keep your chin up. If you don’t want to then you don’t want to.”

You simply nod your head before putting your hand on the door’s handle, taking a deep inhale. You were going to need some courage as to not spill everything you were told; your parents didn’t need to know what was being said about Yuki. They were proud of her, and never worried about her. As long as it lasts.

You had barely taken off your shoes that your mother already threw herself at you, hugging you to the verge of tears. Your eldest threw a confused look at you while your father came close with a bouquet in hands.

“You should have told us that you had a boyfriend! His family came straight from Tokyo to announce the news.”

You almost choked as you heard what they just said, you had no boyfriend. Your mind immediately imagined a bad joke orchestrated by Naoya in order to embarrass you, knowing all the discipline you showed in front of your family. Or to simply, or rather in the most perverted manner, remind you tha what was expected of a woman was to found a home and then toward the kitchen. But Naoya wasn’t from Tokyo, his family wasn’t either. Could it be that…

“Gojo! Your mother articulates between two sobs. The name would fit you so well! Your dad is right, you should have told us. You can imagine our surprise when we saw them at the door! They look incredibly kind.”

“And rich!”

“Dad! Come on…Yuki throws in.”

Him and your mother exchanged a little knowing smile, while you and your sister tried to stay cool before this revelation, this name resonating like a gong between your ears.

You let yourself get dragged to the living room while your mind wandered somewhere else, at the bottom of a trench in your head. You, who had always risked your life for this society, were nothing more than a marionette to his eyes. Alright, one shouldn’t generalize, nor put the blame on people you knew neither by identity nor by face. You knew perfectly well, but can you not hate the whole world when you were being manipulated without scruples. You threw a look full of reproach toward your sister who, just earlier, was trying to convince you that Satoru had nothing to do with this story. She simply shrugged her shoulders, not knowing what to say.

“So, what did you tell them exactly?” Your sister asked while she sitting on a chair, facing the backrest, legs spread open.

“Well, we told them that the final word was in the hands of the involved party. They can’t wait to meet you, your boyfriend must have told them a lot of good things about you for them to come all the way here.” Your mother throws in her supposition while sitting beside you on the sofa with you resting your head on her shoulder, almost unconsciously, gaze lost faraway.

“I don’t doubt it for even a second.” Sarcasm dripping from your words.

“The Gojo clan is a very traditional family, I’m surprised they accepted that their son, who is the little star of the circus, would welcome someone like her within his family: a commoner. They said nothing about this?” Yuki wonders aloud, she clearly had an idea cooking.

“Oh, right they mentioned this problem, at first they weren’t thrilled by the idea, and then the power of love convinced them. Isn’t that cute?. She replied.

This whole farce was breaking your heart. You never saw your mother so happy, her eyes gleaming, her facial muscles were probably paining her from all this smiling. She had lost the hope to one day see her first daughter have a stable life, a husband, children…all of this wasn’t for Yuki. She had then, maybe, unconsciously repressed all of her hopes of seeing a family growing on you. You wanted to tell her the truth, to tell her that all of this was a lie, that this man wasn’t what he seemed to be; spitting out all that the counsel had revealed to you. But you could simply not move your lips.You father waved the bouquet of flowers your way to catch your attention. His face was a tad bit red, he probably didn’t expect things to go this way, he must have been both embarrassed and honored that people from such a good family would come knock at their door. You even started wondering at what moment exactly did they manage to make you forget that your life wasn’t marrying a rich heir, or a renowned exorcist. Apparently, in your case, it was a perfect mix of the two.

“I suppose that you’re going to accept?”

« Do I really have a choice » was what you wanted to respond. You felt the heavy gaze of your sister weighing down on you, a gaze that yelled at you to say no and to make yourself, for once in your dam life, come first before others. But she knew you you well enough to know that if she meddled in, you’d probably never forgive her. So you did what you could do best, always reproducing the same pattern.

“Of course, why would I refuse?”You replied, trying to look as happy and content as you could.

Your choice was made, your fate forever tied to that of the most powerful exorcist in the world. You felt like you had, with your own hands, written the your name to the pantheon of cowards by giving the right to perfect strangers to decide of your life, to write the lines of a romance that you’ll probably never know.

You smiled, feigning some kind of distorted happiness while your heart was torn inside your chest. You were hurting yourself, destroying yourself with your own hands. Your father noticed your uneasiness through your facade then asked you what was wrong. You answered simply that your day had been extremely long and that the news of this marriage proposal had moved you. You kiss your mother’s forehead one last time before retiring to your room, letting your sister take care of keeping them company, and hearing them throw roses at the Gojo clan.

Once confined in your intimacy, you finally let yourself crumble down. You no longer held in the tears that are currently flowing down your cheeks. You unconsciously brought your hand to your heart, grasping tightly in your fist as much flesh as you could hold. You never felt such intense pain in your life. Your heart was in pieces, and every second that passed weighed on your conscience, your honor tarnished, yourself neglected, and your life spoiled, without even knowing why. One thing was sure, you’d never forgive Gojo Satoru for having ruined your life.

You made the choice of marrying him. But you also chose to make him regret, till your last breath, to have imposed himself in your life.

#gojo #jjk #geto suguru #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #naoya zenin #yuki tsukumo #arranged marriage au #gojo x y/n #gojou satoru x reader #gojo smut #gojo x reader #heavy angst

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writershapeholeonthedoor · 3 years

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You Marked More Than Just My Skin - Supercorp

Read it on AO3

Kara’s first instinct was to blame Alex because, if she was going to be honest, Alex was the one to blame for many of her stupid decisions. Sisters' competitive nature or something like that. That's what their mother would say when they were teenagers and they randomly started a fight. A just adopted Kara who had just lost her parents was not letting an overly cocky Alex win without fighting back.

So, naturally, she was going to blame Alex for this. However, Alex had nothing to do with Kara walking down the street from her job one day and entering the tattoo shop she walked past by every day on her way home. No, it had started with Winn, her best friend, saying that Kara wasn’t the type of person to do things out of impulse. Which he wasn’t exactly wrong, although he hit a sore spot because "I can be very spontaneous!" had been Kara’s answer and everyone around them gave her that look that made it pretty clear no one believed her.

Then, just about a week after that, Nia was walking home with her after a stop at Noonan's for their killer milkshake and saw the tattoo shop still open even if it was past 10 pm. There was no one inside that they could see, but the sign read "open" in neon letters and Nia did a double-take when she saw the walls covered in drawings.

"Oh, my God! Look at that thing!" she had screamed. And that thing was a fairly beautiful drawing of a girl lying in bed with a cloud above her head as though she was dreaming about a myriad of things.

Nia grabbed her arm, dragged her inside and, ten minutes later, she was sitting on a chair while a young man that couldn't be older than Kara permanently marked the skin on her forearm with the same drawing.

"Did you draw it?" Nia asked and Kara could tell she was just a little bit in pain because she was clutching the arm of the chair and hadn’t stopped babbling for two seconds. Not that Nia ever stopped talking, actually.

"No," the man replied in an excited voice. Like he was happy to be doing a tattoo on a girl that had just ten minutes prior decided she wanted one. But Kara held back her tongue, took some pictures while Nia made her goofy faces and sat on a stool at the corner like the good friend she was. "My boss did. She does most of the drawings we have available."

"Well, she has a hell of a talent!" Nia exclaimed, bit her lip when the needle hit a soft spot and flashed another smile once it was gone. "You should tell her she's amazing!"

Jack, that was his name, Kara reminded herself, laughed like that was a big joke that only he was aware of, but nodded all the same. "She's in the office right now, maybe she will stop by to hear you say that. She loves when people pick her drawings, but she will never say it out loud."

The woman, whoever she was, didn’t leave her office, not even when they left, way past midnight, listening to Jack's careful instructions on how to take care of Nia's arm for the next week. In the end, Kara had to admit Jack was a nice guy. And he did an excellent job. Nia's tattoo was perfect. Perfect for her and perfectly done, and her friend had no problem showing it off the next day.

"Holy crap!" Winn screamed when he saw it on game night on Friday. "I didn't know you were into tattoos. It looks awesome!"

"Thank you! And I just decided to do it," Nia shrugged, as though deciding to do a tattoo on a Wednesday night at 10 pm after getting a milkshake was a normal thing. "Thank Goddess Kara was with me so she could keep me company."

"Wait," Winn eyed Kara with the same incredulous expression from a week before and she immediately felt defensive. "Kara was there and didn't try to stop you?"

"She did say I might regret it," Nia conceded with a smile. "About ten times, but she stayed with me."

Kara rolled her eyes, picked up the pizza box and sulked on the couch while her friends made fun of her lack of spontaneous nature. Kara was a planner. And she had learned her lesson when she decided to walk to the park instead of going home one day after school and returned to the Danvers' household to find out three police cars parked at the street and a frantic Eliza giving them a photo of her and saying she had disappeared. So, yes, Kara wasn't one to do things out of the blue anymore, but that was hardly a bad thing.

She tried to tell that to herself for the next week while everyone still awed and cooed at Nia's tattoo. She tried to remind herself of Eliza's panicked face while James, with his impressive looking dragon tattoo on his back, said Kara would never be one to make a tattoo because she would keep changing her mind. She tried to picture Alex's disapproving stare while Nia's boyfriend, Querl, made comments on how he loved Nia's carefree and spontaneous nature.

In the end, what pushed her to do it was her boss and Kara couldn’t even blame her, or Alex, or any of her friends. But she would, anyway.

"Kiera, the reason why people hardly remember your name-" she wanted to point out that Cat was the only one who had a hard time remembering her name but bit her tongue instead "-is because you are so... blank."

"Blank?" Kara had asked, trying and failing not to look so offended.

And Cat nodded because she knew how to get to her. "Nothing remarkable. You use terrible sweaters and write articles that everyone could write. Did you ever do something, I don’t know, remotely spontaneous in your life?"

Kara was sure - or almost sure because you can never know with Cat Grant - that her boss was trying to push her to fly to Midvale to write about the scandal surrounding some tech company there even though Snapper had decided William would cover that for CatCo. It was either that or to make her wear something that wasn’t in pastel color.

Well, all it did was send Kara straight to a tattoo shop where she hoped to find Jack and demand he did something as spectacular as Nia's tattoo. And she went on a mission, marching down the ten blocks from CatCo to the tattoo shop - that only that day she stopped to read the name of and what weird name they chose, Le Vintage Ink - her feet hitting the ground with a purpose, her hand pushing the door open with a vengeance, her eyes narrowed behind her glasses with one goal in mind.

It wasn't Jack she saw, however. She didn't see anyone at first, actually. The shop was empty like it was a week before and very silent, with the air conditioner doing a soft hum and nothing else.

The anti climax moment was enough to make all her determination wave off. Her shoulders dropped, her eyes rounded, her feet started to stamp and her determination, well, she didn’t quite remember it anymore. Nobody needed to know, Kara told to herself. Nobody knew she was going to do it, so she could just turn around, leave, go back to her apartment and try to do some online shopping. Maybe buy a red dress for once. None of her friends would ever believe she went back to the tattoo shop, so there would be no problem...

No. That was exactly the problem. They wouldn’t even believe her if she told them. They would laugh, call it a bluff, and keep teasing Kara for not being adventurous like they were. Alex does this long motorbike drives all over the state sometimes, and James goes hiking and jumps from planes from time to time. Winn would point out that the last thing Kara did without meticulous planning was to change pizza night for potstickers and that was only because the pizza place she always orders from was out of pineapples.

However, Kara reasoned with herself, instead of doing a tattoo, she could just go with Alex on her next trip. Maybe she could ask James to teach her how to hike. Querl adopted a cat he found behind his building, so maybe that could be Kara’s unplanned moment too. And what did Winn do so adventurous or spontaneous that he had the right to make fun of Kara? She couldn’t remember.

Yes, any of those things would be more reasonable. She could even do an impromptu visit to her mother. It would count for something. She knew Eliza would be happy and she loved making her mom happy. She could even pick Alex's old helmet so her sister could use it to ride with her girlfriend, Kelly, and Eliza makes a killer chocolate pecan pie too.

Already dreaming with the taste of the pie crust in her mouth Kara turned around. She must have been inside the tattoo shop for less than ten seconds and Jack hadn’t shown up yet, so that was a plus and a sign, even if she wanted to greet him and tell how nice Nia's tattoo looked after a week.

The second her back was turned to the counter, though, she heard a door opening and then a voice filled the silence. "Can I help you?"

That wasn’t Jack's voice. That much she knew. What she didn’t know was that someone could sound so... husky and still be so clear on the words. What she also didn’t know was why her body froze like she had been hit with lightning. Or why she ever decided to leave when a voice like that was inside the shop.

It would be rude to just keep walking, Kara told herself and even she knew it was a lame excuse for wanting to see the owner of that voice. But she still turned around, eyes blinking fast as she tried not to miss a second of what she was about to see, and then immediately felt her soul leave her body. That was the only explanation on why her mouth fell open and why her brain's function slowed down at least 30%.

Because the voice's owner was... for the lack of a better word, striking. It was a woman, looking a few years younger than Kara, with dark as coal wavy hair falling down her shoulders, green piercing eyes framed by some heavy eyeliner and plump lips painted with red lipstick. The woman was wearing a black t-shirt from a band Kara had never heard of, the v-cut being deep enough that she could see a black bra under it. The shirt looked like she had been cut at home - maybe she wasn't designed to have such a deep v-neck, maybe she had sleeves at some point and maybe the deep cuts by each side also weren't a part of the initial product. But, damn, it looked great on her. Since she had no sleeves and the shirt moved as she walked and showed a great expanse of her sides, Kara could see that the woman’s body was covered in tattoos.

Her arms, from shoulder to wrist, were almost totally covered. Her left arm almost looked like a flower shop, with dozens of flowers in different colors drawn all over it. Her right arm had tattoos from her shoulder to her elbow, and they were a mix of chemical elements and computer parts that, somehow, worked together in all black and white. Kara got just a few glimpses of the tattoos on her side - something that looked like a cartoon character, another one that assembled a lake, a few words that Kara couldn’t read from that far - but that was enough to make her lick her lips and try to picture what else was there. There were no tattoos on her chest area, that Kara could see, but there was a small musical chord on the left side of her neck, and Kara wondered if she had any tattoos on her legs. She couldn't see them from where the woman was standing behind the counter, and something dragged her feet forward before she could stop herself.

"H-hi," she choked out and her face immediately heated up with embarrassment. Her sister would call it 'gay panic' and make fun of her for three days, and Kara was suddenly very thankful for being alone. "I, uh..." The woman blinked, Kara mimicked her, and lost every coherent thought inside her head. "Jack."

The woman arched one perfect eyebrow, resting her hands flat against the counter, and Kara’s blue eyes were suddenly very interested in the long fingers spread over some papers. The papers, she noticed as a second thought, were unfinished drawings, but she could hardly tell what they were. Feeling her face get even hotter, Kara demanded that her eyes moved up and she was almost proud of herself when they paused for only a second at the woman’s cleavage. Of course, as soon as her eyes met the woman’s face again, she had a tiny smirk like she knew Kara was having a hard time being in the same space as her.

"I'm sorry, love," she said and Kara noticed an accent behind the last word, like she had spent years trying to get rid of it but still couldn't brush it off some words. "Jack doesn't work here on Tuesdays."

Oh. Well, that's a bit of a relief, Kara wasn't going to lie. No Jack, no tattoo, and she still could say she tried. She still wanted to say ‘hi’ but...

"Can I help you instead?"

Oh, boy. Kara almost turned around and ran away right then and there because the things she was thinking this stranger could help her with were kind of mortifying. Instead, Kara bit her bottom lip so hard that it went numb instantly, and leaned forward until she was resting her hands in front of the woman's fingers. She dared to glance down really quick, just to find out the woman was wearing black jeans and boots, before she looked up again - with a quick stop at the cleavage because good lord.

"I don't know, I..." Kara couldn’t even say her own name if the woman asked at that moment, let alone remember what she was doing there and where there even was.

The woman chuckled then. A deep, husky sound from the back of her throat that brought a small smile to her lips, and then she ducked her head - as though she had no idea that was the most blinding smile Kara had ever seen in her twenty-six years of living. Neither the chuckle nor the smile was mockingly, and her green eyes were just a little bit amused when she looked back at Kara.

"Don't get me wrong but... you don't look like the type of person that would get a tattoo."

Okay, what is it with people just assuming Kara is too boring to do something? Kara took a look at her own clothes. She wasn't even wearing a sweater that day! Sure, beige trousers and a blue button up hardly screamed "living on the edge" but come on! Was it the glasses? Alex always said she should use contact lenses, but she liked the glassed!

Feeling a new wave of determination, Kara set up her jaw and crossed her arms. "Well, that's exactly what I came here to do."

The woman raised both eyebrows now, clearly amused. "To get a tattoo?" She asked like there was any other reason for Kara to be inside a tattoo shop on a Tuesday night.

So Kara nodded, her blonde hair wiggling from side to side on her ponytail, and straightened up her back like she was about to enter a fight. Not that she ever fought before, not even when the cruel kids at her new school would call her weird and push her inside her locker. Alex would beat them up for her, so she didn’t have to, it was fine.

"Yes," she said and her voice only trembled for a second. "To get a tattoo," she confirmed like there was any other reason for her to be inside a tattoo shop on a Tuesday night.

"Okay," the woman said, clicking her tongue once before she picked up a pen from the desk, a smirk permanently spread on her lips. "Do you have any idea of what you want?"

Shit. Kara hadn’t gone that far. Maybe not even her own brain thought she would do it because she had neglected the most important part of the entire process. She had no idea what she wanted permanently marked on her skin.

(Permanently marked also sent a thousand of red lights inside her head because, you know, it was permanent)

It must have shown on her face because the woman’s smirk became more of a smile, not exactly gentle but not mockery either. "What's your name?"

"Kara." She was so glad her brain hadn’t come up with something ridiculous to say. She could remember when she met her cousin's sister-in-law and answered the same question with "mashed potatoes" for some reason she would never be able to grasp. Lucy never let her forget that embarassing moment.

"Well, Kara," and Holy Goddess of all the universe and beyond, how could her name roll out of her lips like that? "why don’t you take a look at the drawings we have here, see if you like one. If you don't, we can always come up with something for you."

She then pushed some heavy black portfolio across the counter towards Kara and opened the leather front cover to show her the first drawing. They were all separated by plastic, and she started the task of turning the pages while trying very hard to look at the drawings and not at the woman in front of her. She wasn't sure because she wouldn’t dare to look up, but she could feel green eyes staring at her and her blush returned full force.

"So..." she heard after a couple of minutes in silence. "What kind of dare you lost?"

Kara took full offense on that, glaring at her for a moment before going back to the portfolio. She had gotten on the dragon section and decided to skip it all together. "There was no dare."

The woman hummed, watched her for another minute, and then leaned over with her forearms touching the counter. She reached out, taking the plastic from Kara's fingers, and started skipping the pages until they reached the flowers. Kara looked up, catching a glimpse of the woman's arm, before meeting green eyes with a light glare.

The woman shrugged. "You look like a flower kind of girl."

"What else do I look like to you?" Kara mumbled back and stubbornly went back to the drawing she was seeing before - the ships and anchors section - even though she left a finger marking the flowers page.

The brunette seemed even more amused now, barely able to hide her smile, and she chuckled once when Kara turned the page to see another ship. "Like you randomly decided to get a tattoo because someone pissed you off."

Kara tried not to give her the satisfaction of being right, deciding to focus on studying every ship and every anchor. She heard another chuckle, but the woman wisely didn’t push the subject.

"You could save us a lot of time by just going to the flowers."

Fine, maybe she was right about that too. Kara would never pick a ship, or a dragon, or a coffee cup, or any other drawing she saw before. Although Kara never thought what type of drawing she would get tattooed. With a sigh, she went back to the flowers, throwing the woman a dirty look when she huffed a laugh.

"Hey," she said, raising her hands in playful defense, "if I'm going to do something that you will regret tomorrow, at least let me help."

"Aren't you going to try to talk me out of this?" Kara asked, remembering when Jack asked Nia five times if she was sure before touching her skin with the needle.

"No," another shrug. "I will get my money and you will get the regret. Works fine by me."

Kara scoffed and shook her head, but finally spotted something she liked. It was a rose, not larger than a paper ball, black and white with a few leafs to the side. She was almost pointing that one out when she heard a deep sigh and looked up. The brunette was staring down at the drawing with enough judgment that Kara changed her mind in a blink.

"What?" She still asked because it was a beautiful flower.

"Nothing, it's just... does that even mean something to you?"

Kara looked back at the rose and frowned. "I like roses," she defended herself.

"I like kale, but I won’t tattoo that."

"You like kale?" Kara didn’t mean to sound so disgusted by it but it was stronger than her. Her face twisted in a grimace, shocked more than anything.

The other woman laughed a real laugh this time, and Kara felt the sound into her xcvery core. "Please, don't ask me to tattoo a burger on you. You're too pretty for that."

It was like she knew exactly what those words would do to Kara because she winked right after, making her blush ten times more. "What do you suggest, then?"

The tattooed brunette smiled and tapped her finger on top of the rose. "If you liked this one, it's fine, but I would go with..." She let her voice die as she started turning the pages until she found what she was looking for. "This one."

Kara looked at the drawing and was immediately sold to the idea. It wasn't just any flower. It was a plumeria. Well, two plumerias side by side, with a few leafs to the sides and a mandala carefully placed behind them like it was the third flower. She knew she wanted that one the second her eyes landed on it.

"It would look good on you," she kept talking. "I wouldn’t add any color, though." Kara kept nodding although she was only half paying attention now that she had found the right one. Her silence must have sent twisted signals because the woman’s voice became softer. "I know I said I wouldn’t try to talk you out of this but... are you sure?"

Kara’s eyes moved up then, metting slightly concerned green eyes, and she smiled. "Yes. I'm sure."

The woman studied her face for a few seconds before she nodded once. "Okay, then. Where do you want it?"

Shit.

The panic on her face told her out again and the woman’s laugh filled the space around them like a melody. "Come on, we can figure it out inside."

‘Inside’ being a closed room very similar to the one Nia had gotten her tattoo, albeit it was clear that that one wasn't Jack's. First, it lacked the smell of cigars and heavy cologne that Kara smelled last time and made her nose itch. But it also held a more personal touch like more drawings and a few words scribbled on the black walls. Kara didn’t feel nervous while the woman turned the sign from open to close, explaining that she was the only one who worked on Tuesdays' nights. She also didn’t feel nervous when she entered the room and spotted the comfortable chair she would be sitting on. What made her nervous again was taking her shirt off so she could decide where she wanted the plumerias to be.

She placed the printed drawing on several parts of both of her arms, her shoulders and asked the brunette to hold it at some spots on her back as well. But Kara was only satisfied when she put the paper against the right side of her ribs, a few centimeters below her bra. The woman gave her a knowing look and arched one eyebrow when she said that was the place she wanted her tattoo.

"Are you sure? It can be quite a painful area to get a tattoo, especially if it's your first one."

Again, she wasn't making fun of Kara and she appreciated it, but she also wasn't going to change her mind. "I'm sure."

"Okay. I will put the outlines, then."

It was only when the brunette had her hands against her side and her face a few inches from her chest that Kara realized she didn’t even know who she was. "Hey, I, uh, I didn't catch your name before."

Green eyes glanced up, bright and slightly amused, before they returned to the task of perfectly positioning the flowers on her ribs. "Lena."

"Lena," Kara found herself echoing the name in a whisper before she could stop herself. Lena looked up again, even more amused than before, and Kara felt herself blushing. "It... it suits you."

She had no idea what that was supposed to mean, but Lena smiled and tilted her head to the side. "Thanks." She pushed back the stool she was sitting on. "Take a look at the mirror and see if that's what you want."

Kara took a step closer to see her reflection and tried very hard to ignore the fact that she was standing in front of a stranger in her bra. The plumerias were exactly what she wanted and exactly where she wanted them, and she said that to Lena, who told her to lay down after turning the chair into an improvised bed. While Kara tried to find a comfortable place to lay, she heard Lena slipping on rubber gloves and moving a few things around before approaching her again. She was half expecting her to ask one more time if she was sure, but Lena said nothing when she touched her skin with the black gloves, and raised the needle to her eyes level to make sure it was ready to go.

Kara wasn’t sure if the shivers were from nervousness, the chill air of the room, or the fact that this very attractive woman was touching her just below her breast, but she did her best to ignore it. Lena had pulled her hair into a messy ponytail, Kara realized, and she could see her sharp jawline more easily now. She also spotted five different piercings on the woman’s right ear. For a second, she wondered if Lena could feel her heart beating under her skin or if she could maybe even hear it.

"Be ready for some pain, but try not to move," Lena said while she lowered the needle to her skin. "It will take longer if you keep moving. You also don't want me to fuck this up," she offered Kara a smile to let her know she was joking - at least that's what the blonde hoped for. "Tell me if you need a break."

So, Lena wasn't lying when she said it would hurt. Nia neglected to tell her about the painful part and Kara would make her pay for it by typing down her next article, but, holy crap, it hurt. The first touch of the needle made her jump and hiss, and Lena pulled it away like she knew it was going to happen, giving her a few seconds to recover.

"Sorry," Kara whispered once her body relaxed again.

"It's fine," the brunette mumbled back, totally concentrated on her job now.

It went like that for a few minutes - Kara squeezing her eyes shut, biting her lips, clutching the sides of the chair slash bed, and hissing under her breath whenever she couldn’t hold it back anymore. Until she started to get used to the pain and allowed herself to focus on other things. Her eyes trailed to the few drawings hanging on the walls, taking in the delicate traces and the lack of colors from all of them. She decided that talking would help her with the pain.

"Jack said his boss makes those drawings," she commented lightly.

There was a brief pause before Lena answered her. "That would be me."

"Oh," the blonde breathed out in shock. "So, you..."

"I'm the owner, yes." There was another pause while Lena cleaned her skin with a soft paper. "I used to work for a tattoo artist back in Metropolis before I decided to open my own business. Jack followed me."

"Well, you certainly have talent. Your drawings are beautiful."

"On paper," Lena teased and Kara didn’t need to look at her to know she was smirking. "Let's see how it translate to your skin."

Kara wanted to play along and tell her to ‘please, don't make something awful that would be permanently marked on my skin’, but she found herself saying something entirely different. "Plumerias were my mom's favorite flowers. My dad would bring them to her every Saturday after work because those were the first flowers he ever gave her." She could still remember her father getting back home on Saturdays right before lunch with a bouquet in his hand to her mom and a box of chocolate for her, all smiles and offering hugs. If she tried hard enough, Kara could still remember the smell of her mom's stew mixed with the flowers' smell, could still taste the chocolate. "They died almost fifteen years ago."

Kara had no idea why she was sharing those things with this stranger wearing black rubber gloves and breathing too close to her ribs, but she also couldn't stop. Maybe it was a tattoo thing, like sharing too much about your relationships while cutting your hair.

Lena didn’t shy away, though. She made sure their eyes were locked before saying, "Let's make sure those are perfect, then," and went back to work.

Kara felt herself relaxing more after that, although she didn’t say anything else for a few minutes. "I work as a reporter to a magazine," she found herself saying. "My boss is... both of them are impossible to deal with. I dream about throwing them into space sometimes, but... I love my job. One of them is the reason I'm here today."

"Who should I be thanking?"

Kara blushed one more time, even if she wasn't sure it was said to be flirtatious or if she was just imagining it. "Cat means well, she just... push some buttons sometimes."

"Well," Lena stopped her movements to look at Kara again, this time with a soft smile. "I will be sending this Cat some flowers anyway."

The blonde chuckled at that. "Go back to work. I don't want to end up with a dragon on my ribs."

Lena hummed, eyes dropping back to the outlines of the flowers and needle touching skin again. "I wouldn’t draw a dragon on you," she contemplated. "You're more of an iguana kind of girl."

Kara gasped in faked offense and turned her head to fully stare at Lena with narrowed eyes. "How dare you? You know nothing about me!"

The tattoo artist shrugged, not bothered by her explosion. "Maybe a kitty." Kara huffed and puffed, letting her body fall back on the chair, and did her best to keep frowning. "Definitely a kitty," she heard Lena whispering under her breath, playfully and amused, and Kara was soon smiling. "So... will your boyfriend approve this?"

"Are you fishing for information about me?" Kara teased.

"Huh," Lena sighed. "You didn’t sound this confident when you were stumbling over your words when you first saw me."

She was sure her entire body turned pink with that and she mumbled weakly that: "I was nervous about getting a tattoo."

"Yes, of course," Lena replied and Kara blushed again.

"No boyfriend," she ended up replying because the other alternative was to dig a bigger hole to herself. "Or a girlfriend."

She was ready for another teasing from the other woman, but Lena pulled back instead and eyed her tattoo with her head tilted to the side. "I need you to hold your breath for a few seconds, okay? I'm getting to a delicate part and it would be better if you hold it for, like, ten seconds."

Kara nodded and got ready to pull in a breath to hold it while Lena got her needle ready to go again. When the other woman said so, Kara took in a large intake of breath but, as soon as the needle touched her again, she exhaled in surprise when the pain shot to every nerve in her body.

"I know," Lena said. "It's the hardest part. I promise to be done with it as fast as possible. Can we try again?"

There weren't many options since Kara was already in the middle of getting her tattoo done, so she nodded and waited for the new signal. Kara grabbed the chair with both of her hands, pressed her eyes tightly shut, bit her bottom lip and held her breath for the longest ten seconds of her life before Lena tapped her skin and pulled away with a smile.

"There," she declared in her husky tone. "Good girl."

It was embarrassing how those two words made Kara react. She gasped, the breath still stuck in her lungs almost causing her to choke, and her entire body went stiff when a shiver left goosebumps all over her skin on its way down her spine. She couldn't see Lena and that was a blessing because she could feel the pause that her reaction gave the brunette. So, maybe that was a weird way to find out a praise kink, Kara decided while praying that Lena would brush it as a perfectly normal reaction to have.

"That was interesting," Lena whispered and, this time, the blonde knew she wasn't supposed to have heard that.

The blonde bit her bottom lip so hard that she could feel the taste of blood and she was totally sure that Lena could hear how fast her heart was beating. She could probably feel it, and, God, that was so embarrassing. Kara had half a piece of mind to just pull back her shirt, leave and never go back there, but the other woman didn’t give her time to react before she was once more piercing her skin with the needle. It was still painful, although the mortification she felt numbed it a little bit.

Lena didn’t sound so cocky when she spoke again and she even had to clear her throat so the words would come out less hoarse and more audible. “Just a while longer and we will be done. Can you handle it or should we finish it another day?”

Kara didn’t trust herself to ever come back – and not just because of what had just happened but also because she didn’t think she would be brave enough to get any tattoo needle to ever touch her again. So, she exhaled slowly and nodded. Lena went back to the draw immediately after that and they fell in a half comfortable silence until the trickiest part was over. Or, at least, that’s what Kara thought the trickiest part was because it hurt like hell and Lena had this crinkle between her brows when she glanced back that made her look... cute. Even with the tattoos and the five different piercing sets on her ears, the black clothes, the black room and her undeniable confidence.

It wasn’t until Lena leaned away to get more ink that she spoke again. “Plumerias were very common where I lived.”

Kara thought back on their conversation and wondered aloud, “Metropolis?”

“Ireland,” she corrected gently.

“Oh,” Kara breathed out and then hissed when the needle was back to her ribs.

“Not many people know I’m Irish, so I’m trusting you with this secret, Kara.”

She could hear the joke in the woman’s voice and Lena even poked her side playfully, and Kara heard herself giggling like a schoolgirl. “Your secret is safe with me.”

“That’s not how it works,” Lena declared with a huff. “Now you need to tell me a secret of yours.”

“What?”

“Yes, so we’re even and I can make sure you will never tell anyone what I just told you.”

“It’s not like you just confessed a murder,” Kara argued with an eye roll that was quite too fond to be directed to someone who she had met only two or three hours before.

Lena looked up for a second and their eyes met, making Kara’s face flush red. She was pulling a very uncomfortable position to keep her head raised and turned to the side so she could watch the other woman, and she had just been caught doing that one more time. “No? Well, you shouldn’t go to my office then.”

Kara hummed, trying to sound unimpressed by the joke while fighting back a laugh, and shrugged. “I knew it was weird I didn’t see Jack.”

The brunette let out a breathy chuckle, her hot breath hitting Kara’s side and making her shiver again, before she pursed her lips. “I see you’re too fond of Jack already.”

“Jealous?”

Lena quirked one dark eyebrow and gave her a look – the type of look that Kara tried to pull out her entire life while trying to look all sexy and misterious and was never able to do it – that made the blonde’s entire body warm up. “I’m the one poking your skin with a needle right now, so I think he should be the jealous one.”

Yes, Kara couldn’t keep up with that. She was weird, she rambled, she stuttered more times than not, and just, overall, was terrible at the whole flirting thing. Lena, on the other hand, seemed to be a master on it. Kara didn’t really stand a chance against it, not even for a second. She could try, pull out a word or a phrase here and there, but, in the end, Lena would find a way to leave her blushing and flustered so easily that made her head spin.

(She couldn’t be sure if Lena was just that good or if Kara was just super gay, but, whatever it was, it was working wonderfully)

“Now, come on, spill a secret,” Lena said after a long silence that stretched between them while they just stared at each other’s eyes.

Kara felt hypnotized by the green eyes and that was so unfair. So, damn, unfair. “I get my boss’ coffee order wrong every day.”

Lena stopped with the tattoo again to blink at her a couple of times in what seemed to be confusion. Then, she tilted her head to the side, glanced to the ceiling and opened her mouth as if she was going to say something. No sound came out, she closed her mouth again, and she looked so adorable that Kara felt her rambling coming to the surface again.

“Cat has this really complicated order at Starbucks that makes my head hurt just to think about. 3% fat, quarter milk, a spoon and a half of organic sugar, or whatever that is. It’s my job to get her coffee every morning and there’s no Starbucks close to my apartment, so I stop at another place called Noonan’s and get an order from there.” Lena still hadn’t said anything and Kara couldn’t bring herself to stop talking. “I used to work there, so I have a discount. I can buy a coffee for myself too with the same amount of money I would spend at Starbucks. And she never noticed it!”

There was a pause where Kara tried to come up with more things to say before a loud laugh cut the space around her. She looked at Lena with wide eyes and only slightly offended by her reaction, but the other woman was too busy laughing at her expense to notice it. The brunette used the back of her hand to cover her mouth while she shook her head and kept laughing freely.

“I’m sorry,” Lena said, waving her hand, before being interrupted by her own laugh. “It’s just... Fuck! That’s the worse thing you ever did in your life?” The tattoo artist looked at her again with her eyes crinkling at the sides and Kara felt her anger melting away.

“What? Did you expect a murder?”

“I was hoping that you would say you spit on her coffee, at least.”

Kara gasped. “I would never do that!”

Lena narrowed her eyes at her, a tiny smirk adorning her lips. “But you think about it, don’t you?”

“Every day,” she admitted with a groan, letting her head fall back against the chair.

The brunette laughed again and a cold hand came to rest against her thigh, making Kara’s body vibrate from head to toe. “I won’t tell your secret if you don’t tell mine.” Lena winked – winked – at her and Kara felt her throat too dry all of sudden. The woman chuckled again when the blonde gulped before she gently tapped the hard muscle of Kara’s thigh. “We’re done here.”

“Oh.” Kara blinked in surprise and her eyes immediately fell to her ribs. The skin was red and swollen, but she could see the delicate lines of the flowers and the leaves, and she was hit by the urge to cry all at once. She felt like a little girl again, being six or seven, and running to the door to meet her father, seeing the plumerias in his left hand and the chocolate on his right.

“Hey,” Lena called her gently, ducking her head to be able to catch the blue eyes again. “You're fine over there? I had people regretting tattoos before, but not so fast.”

Kara laughed and shook her head, trying to discreetly brush a tear from the corner of her eyes. “Everything is fine. It’s really beautiful.”

“Well, don’t say that before you take a better look,” Lena pushed her stool away and got up with a refreshed excitement. “Come on, stand up so you can look at it in the mirror.”

That’s what Kara did, sliding off the chair and walking with slightly trembling legs to the full body mirror that she had seen before. The fact that she still didn’t have her shirt on was in the back of her mind while her eyes traced the ink. It looked even better on her ribs than it looked on the paper and she made sure to tell the other woman that, earning a smile that she doubted she would ever be able to forget.

"Here." She turned around to see Lena's hand reaching out a piece of white chalk between her long fingers and sporting a kind of smile that Kara hadn’t seen on her yet - satisfied, the type of smile you give after accomplishing a task that meant something to you. "All of my clients have to write something on the walls. It's tradition," Lena shrugged in the end.

Kara’s eyes swept through the room again, taking in the black walls and words written in almost every inch available under a new light. There were small praises, thanks, some jokes and even a few doodles, and Kara wondered what she could write that could sum up her entire experience inside Lena's tattoo shop. She took the chalk more out of instinct, her brain still working on finding the right words, and Kara took a few steps around the room until she found the right place to write.

It was just below one of Lena's drawings that were hanging from a string, between a Scooby-Doo doodle and the message of someone saying they loved their new rose tattoo. Kara’s handwriting wasn't the best one - sloppy and crooked - and it looked even worse when she was trying to write on a wall, but she managed to write her first and last name to make it look readable. Then, she added her phone number under it and put the chalk inside the small box she found just beside her. Kara turned around making sure her body would cover what she had just written, suddenly feeling too nervous about it, and accepted the plastic foil paper Lena handed her.

"Remember to put on the ointment I told you about and keep it covered so it heals. It should be all healed in a week, tops. You're free to call if you have any doubts."

Lena led the way out of the room and they found themselves once again at the reception desk. Lena picked up the pen she had played with before and scribbled something on a piece of paper beside the computer while Kara reached out for her wallet in the pocket of her trousers. Their fingers brushed when she handed Lena the money and her face flushed red for the millionth time that night. Lena gave her a knowing smile before putting the money away and just like that they realized that they would part ways soon. A small part of Kara, primal and shameless, tried to come up with any reason that would make her stay for a while longer. Anything would do, really.

Even so, there was no reason for her to stay and Kara tried to mask her unjustified sadness by joining her hands in front of her body and forcing a smile to look real. “Thank you again.”

Lena waved a hand dismissively, the pen still hanging between two fingers, before her hand came to rest on top of the other one on the desk. “It was my pleasure.”

“If I regret it in the morning, I will come back with a vengeance,” Kara joked, swaying on her heels, and the laugh that came from the other woman was worth any type of regret she might end up having in the near future.

“As much as I would like to see you again, I would hate for that to be the reason you came back.”

Lena winked at her and Kara’s mouth hang open before she could stop herself. That made the brunette laugh in delight, made a deep blush rise from her neck to her cheeks, and Kara started taking steps back before she could embarrass herself anymore. Alex, Nia and all of their friends were right: she’s a gay disaster. None of them would be able to judge her if they just saw Lena though, of that she was sure.

Stumbling over one of the chairs, Kara let out a nervous laugh and, to her utter terror, she pointed finger guns at Lena. “Have, ah, have a good night, ma’am.”

She missed the door handle twice before she was able to open the door and, by the time she looked at Lena again, the other woman was smiling broadly at her. Ducking her head, Kara walked out the door and let it close behind her. Once the slightly chill air of the night hit her face, she closed her eyes and resisted the urge to hit herself for some very stupid decisions made inside that shop. She wondered if she would ever be able to live it down if any of her friends ever found out she just did finger guns at a beautiful woman as a way to say goodbye.

Well, to be fair, she wasn’t sure any of her friends would let her live it down when they found out about her very spontaneous tattoo.

God, Alex was going to kill her. Not for getting a tattoo, but for doing so without giving it enough thought. And, for Christ’s sake, Alex could be a real pain in the ass when she decided to lecture her for whatever reason it was. She was so not ready to deal with that.

It was only when she opened her eyes again that she realized she was still standing outside the tattoo shop – and that Lena could still very easily see her from her place behind the counter – and, with another blush, Kara pushed herself to start walking. Her apartment was only five more blocks down the street and she took that time to clear her mind from anything negative she was thinking about.

If her crazy and very unusual night taught her anything was that she had the thing inside her that could make her do some very adventurous things. She was capable of doing those things. Maybe randomly getting a tattoo wasn’t the ideal way to prove that to herself, but, damn, she had just renewed faith in herself.

Her poor attempts at flirting were the last thing on her mind when she pushed the door to her studio apartment open and stepped inside, making a beeline to where she had left her laptop earlier that day on the small kitchen table. She pulled a chair after turning the computer on and, reaching out for an apple inside the fruit bowl, she waited for the laptop to come to life so she could open a new file to start typing. She had an article to write, and a trip to plan.

XxxxxxxX

It was two days later – after Alex had scolded her for making decisions in a rush, after Nia took pictures of their tattoos side by side to post on her Instagram, after Querl had awkwardly given her a thumbs up, after James raised his eyebrows, after Winn yelped in shock – that something changed.

Kara was lazily reading something Nia had written so she could suggest some corrections before the girl submitted it to Snapper’s approval, when her phone buzzed from its place beside her mousepad – her rainbow mousepad, thanks to Winn. She picked it up, thinking it was Alex inviting her for lunch so she could yell at her a few more times, but the number who had texted her was an unsaved one. She frowned, but didn’t give it much thought before unlocking her screen to read it.

“Since you didn’t barge inside my shop to kill me, I take it that you didn’t regret it?”

The smile that curled her lips up came from within her and it was apparently too obvious because Nia, who was sitting across from her, gave her a weird look and arched one eyebrow in question. Kara shook her head, biting her bottom lip, and turned her chair around so the girl couldn’t see her anymore before typing a reply.

“I never said I was going to kill you.”

“The threat was clear to me,” came the next text just a few seconds later and Kara chuckled to herself.

“Please, don’t tell me you were scared.”

“Why do you think it took me two days to reach out?”

Kara paused at that. She had spent the last two days being sure that, despite their easy flirt with each other, Lena didn’t actually want to talk or see her again. So, to have her texting her now was really... reawakening something inside her.

“Who are you texting?”

Kara jumped on her chair, startled by Nia’s voice so close to her ear all of sudden, her phone almost slipping from her fingers and crashing on the floor. Thankfully, her reflexes were still working and she was able to grab it, but not without throwing a glare at Nia for scaring her like that. The girl gave her a sheepish smile, although she shrugged and didn’t back away from where she had perched on the corner of Kara’s desk to look over her shoulder.

“No one,” came the childish, and not at all convincing, reply and Kara didn’t need to look at her friend again to know she was busted. Now Nia was not going to let it down.

“Really? Because you have been smiling to your phone for five minutes and you just smile like that when Alex says she’s bringing extra potstickers for game night.” Nia smirked and leaned over, trying to read the texts again, but Kara quickly pressed the phone against her chest to block her view.

“Alex just invited me for lunch,” Kara attempted to throw her off.

However, Nia arched her eyebrows. “Really? Because I just texted Kelly asking her to go to that vegan place with me and she said she already has plans.” A pause. “With Alex.” Another pause. “For lunch.”

Kara groaned and turned her chair so she was facing her computer again, slipping her phone screen down on the table. “Fine, it wasn’t Alex, but I’m not going to say anything.”

“Okay.” Her friend gave up way too faster than usual and Kara watched her with narrowed eyes as the girl jumped from her desk to turn the corner back to her own cubicle. Nia was about to sit down when she tried to snatch Kara’s phone away with one surprisingly fast move, but the blonde was even faster, taking it out of her reach in the last second. “Damn.”

Kara rolled her eyes and pushed her chair back. She grabbed her jacket from the back of the chair, throwing it over her shoulders and slipping her phone inside one of the pockets, and threw an overly sweet, clearly fake, smile at Nia. “Now you will have to eat alone because I won’t have lunch with you either.”

Nia stuck her tongue out at her. “I will call Querl!”

Kara waited until she was safely inside the elevator before opening her texts again. There were three more texts since the last time she looked and a smile immediately spread over her face when she read them.

“Okay, I confess, I was a little nervous.”

“You still there? You didn’t change your mind, did you?”

“About the tattoo, not the... leaving your name and number on my wall thing.”

She barely noticed when someone entered the elevator a few floors below, too focused on replying to the texts.

“You? Nervous? You don’t look like the type of girl that gets nervous. And no, I didn’t change my mind about any of those things, actually.”

A new text only came after she was already walking down the street to Noonan’s, but she wrote a quick text to invite Winn for lunch before opening Lena’s text.

“I’m also not the type to text any of the numbers left on my walls. And good.”

“Do you get a lot of numbers on your walls?” Kara asked and she had to make a conscious effort to cross the street to Noonan’s instead of walking straight for a few more blocks to the tattoo shop. She could picture Lena leaning against the counter with her gorgeous smirk and her impressive tattoos – and even more impressive cleavage.

“Jack enjoys them more than I do.”

Kara was about to make a comment about Jack but another text came in before she could and she stopped in her tracks so suddenly that the man walking behind her shoved against her shoulder. She tripped over a few steps, but quickly held herself again to read the words over and over in disbelief. She hoped, of course, but that was... wow.

“I don’t want to be too straightforward here, or overly confident or something, but I have a client coming in five minutes, so I don’t have much time. This won’t sound romantic at all, but would you like to have dinner with me? Tomorrow?”

Kara didn’t have to think too much about her answer, of course. Alex would give her a piece of her mind for agreeing to go out with someone she barely knew – and ‘that’s the whole point of going out to meet people’ was not a good argument on her sister’s book – but Kara would deal with it later. Right now, she had a very gorgeous woman asking her out and she already knew what her answer would be.

“I would love to.”

“What? Really?” Kara chuckled at the rushed text she received back, but another one came just a second later. “Pretend you didn’t read that. I meant ‘okay, great!’.”

Chuckling again, Kara typed a new message. “I know you were the one who asked me out, but may I suggest a place? I don’t have a car and it’s close to both of our workplaces.”

“Whatever you want, just text me address. Let’s say, tomorrow at 7 pm?”

“Can’t wait.”

XxxxxxxX

“Hey, Kara?”

“Yes?” She asked, not taking her eyes away from her computer screen and typing away as fast as she could to be able to put all the ideas in her new article. She had never written like that before, but she wasn’t about to complain about small inspirations spikes.

“The front desk called and said there’s a pack for Cat downstairs. Can you pick it up?”

With a small sigh, not because she was mad at Winn for interrupting her but because she would have to go all out of the way to pick a pack she didn’t even know was going to come in, Kara saved her file and pushed her chair back. Nia glanced up and was about to remove her earphones, ready to follow Kara to whatever she was going to learn more about the journalism world, but the blonde made some gestures with her hand that she hoped meant ‘boring things, stay here’ before she started making her way to the elevator.

Jenny, the woman that stayed at the front desk, was kind, around Eliza’s age, and very chatty, which worked fine with Kara when she wanted to waste a few minutes talking along. “Good morning, Kara! How are you?”

“I’m great, Jenny. And you?”

“I’m fine. What happened? I recognize that smile.”

Kara tilted her head to the side, although she couldn’t stop smiling, doesn’t matter how hard she was trying. “What smile?”

Jenny narrowed her eyes and waved a finger at her playfully. “That’s the smile of someone who had a very good night.”

The blonde could feel her face heating up and a nervous chuckle escaped her lips before she could stop herself. She had been leaning against the counter, but she leaned her torso back and tapped her fingers against the hard surface nervously. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Right,” Jenny scoffed, rolled her eyes and started pulling out the packages that she would need to take upstairs with her. There was a yellow thing that was sent by one of the photographers of the last shooting they made, some letters and a few small boxes, which made Kara believe Jenny had been holding those things with her for at least a few days. Cat hadn’t asked for any of that, so it wasn’t a problem. “Don’t tell me then. You don’t have to. Is all over your face.”

Blushing even harder, Kara huffed an anxious laugh and looked down at the counter. She put one hand on her hip as the other one raised to push her glasses up her nose, but she kept her eyes down to avoid seeing the smirk on Jenny’s face. She would have to agree with her, if she did. Because she knew it was, in fact, written all over her face. She hadn’t been able to stop smiling since she woke up that morning – who was she kidding? It had been like that since dinner last night.

It had a reason – and the reason had a name – but she was not going to share any personal details about her life with Jenny. The old woman had the tendency to share everyone’s secrets – which was another reason Kara liked to talk with her so much, but she would never admit to being a gossip girl. She did tell Nia, mostly because her friend wouldn’t stop asking why Kara was fifteen minutes late that morning, though she had made the girl promise not to tell anyone.

It was still pretty new, she had argued.

“If you two slept together, it’s not that new,” Nia had teased back, making her face turn red so fast that James, that had been coming back from the bathroom, asked if she was feeling well.

Even if the whole ‘sleeping together on the first date’ thing was new to her, Kara hadn’t regretted it in the morning. Much like the tattoo. Although, it would be remarkably harder to regret sleeping with Lena when the said woman was spooning her from behind than it was to regret a tattoo that recquired a lot of afterward care. Either way, Kara was living the best morning in her life and it clearly showed on her face.

“Looks like you’re not the only one who’s having a great time.” Jenny’s voice pulled her out of her thoughts and Kara looked up in time to see the woman pulling a big bouquet from under the counter.

The flowers looked cheap and scruffy, which made it seem like someone had just thrown them together without much care. They were yellow and pink daisies, the colors clashed and didn’t work well together, but the card hidden between the flowers was black and easy to see. She knew she shouldn’t because it had her boss’ name outside the card and it was clearly not for her to see, but curiosity took the best of her – that and the fact that the card had been clearly already open, and by Jenny’s face she knew who had done it.

“Thank you – L”

Well, that wasn’t helpful at all.

Sighing and feeling silly for stealing a look, she put the card back and started to try to find a way to pick everything she needed to take back with her. She knew there was a small cart some other companies in the building used to transport stocks and other products, but she was sure she could use her hands if she just pilled everything right. Kara had just come up with a plan when Jenny spoke again.

“There’s also this one. It doesn’t have a card, but it came with the bouquet. Same delivery. The guy couldn’t say anything about it, but I’m sure we can find something if we call the shop and...”

“I think there’s no need,” Kara interrupted gently, without looking up from the growing pile in one of her hands, but she raised her head eventually.

Only to lose track of every thought she was having.

Jenny had put a single plumeria on top of the counter. As the woman had said, there was no card or any type of identification – who it came from or who was supposed to receive it – but Kara connected the dots quite easily. Smiling, she reached over to grab the simple flower and brought it closer to her face to smell it.

“Oh, I see.”

“I have to go!” Kara said suddenly, knowing everyone in the building would know she had just randomly smelled a flower at the front desk that morning. “See you, Jen!”

The look on Cat’s face when Kara gave her the bouquet, not offering any other explanation othan than that there was a card attached to it, was worth every step on the stairs she had to walk up, holding the woman’s coffee every morning. As soon as she was back to her desk, Kara pulled her phone from her pocket and sent a text before Nia could start asking any questions.

“Thought you said that you’re not good with romance.”

The reply didn’t come right away, Kara ended up putting her phone to the side and went back to work. However, as soon as it rang beside her, she grabbed it.

“Guess we’re both learning new things about ourselves. Want to have lunch together?”

And, yes, she totally did.

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i-cant-sing · 3 years

Text

Daniel and YN part 9 🌗🌗

“Sensei, I think we have a lead on Daniel and YN.” “Tell me more, Tomura.” Shigaraki’s spine tingles when his master speaks.

His father figure, his sensei. Desperate to please, he pulled up the file his rat in the police station grabbed. “Last week there was an incident at the cafe in the pink district. There were several vases destroyed from an unknown explosion. The windows were cracked from trembling so hard. Almost all the footage tapes were melted, melted in the camera holder. When examined, the broken materials were giving off radiation. Radiation so bad it left a cop in the hospital.” “Interesting… you said almost all the footage?” “Yes. My rat got me the only tape that survived. When I watched it, I think I saw them.” AFO tilted his head. It was progressing faster than planned, but of course he was prepared for that possibility. Daniel seemed to be more subject to his emotions than his sister. Over the years AFO did not see an improvement on his mental development. It seemed that he would need to intervene sooner than expected if he did not want to lose his child to a hero. “Sensei. There’s also news that All Might and his protege are investigating the incident.” Now that was a complication. All Might and his other child should not be allowed total influence over the two. It was time to enact a different plan. One that involved seeing his past wife. “Thank you Tomura. I want you to keep an eye out for them. They are not to be harmed. I have to make arrangements. When you find them make sure you keep a nullifier on hand. In case Daniel needs to be calmed down.” With that, AFO hung up and opened a portal to the Midoryia household. He hasn’t gone by Midoryia for a long time, but even so he did not expect a warm welcome from his past wife. And when she opened the door to him, the look of worry on her face confirmed his suspicions. “They’re not here. Izuku is out trying to find YN. You can’t lash out at him or All Might. They’re-” “I plan to find them first. Izuku is not capable of handling Daniel’s quirk if they upset him. And you underestimate YN. She is very adept at hiding and defense.” “How would you know?” “Because I keep a watchful eye on all my children.” “All your..?” “Four years before we conceived Izuku, I donated my DNA for a little… experiment. The mother had a minor quirk involving radiation. From that pregnancy cane Daniel. Four years later, months after we conceived Izuku, I had my DNA donated again. YN was born from that.” “They 're just experiments to you?” “At first, yes. I did not plan to get attached. But I did. And I have been attached since. I was there when Daniel first displayed reminances of a quirk. I was there when YN learned to balance herself on a high wire. I found them when they were lost. I arranged for her mother’s job to move her to this district and apartment building. I’m the reason you gained custody of them if you recall the deal we made.” “I…” “My point is I may not have been there for Izuku’s life but I have been there for my other two. And I don’t plan to relinquish my children to All Might or those heroes. Is that understood, All Might?” Inko turned around to see her son and his mentor standing in the doorway. Both were glaring at the villain. Ready to ounce at him if need be. But without him she would lose the children. “Mom get away from him.” “Is that any way to speak to your father Izuku?” “YOU LEFT!” Before the fighting could get any worse Inko stood between them. “My baby, my love.” She turned to All Might and Izuku. “We may not like it but he is their father. And he probably would be useful to returning YN and Daniel safely. We have to sit down and figure this out. For them.” So with great tension, Two rivals sat across a dinner table along with a green haired boy and a troubled mother. All discussing the custody of two individuals that didn’t belong to them. 🌗🌗

Daniel and YN part 10 🌗🌗

Sometimes YN wished she had made more of an effort to make friends. Yes Daniel was her best and closest friend, but it would be nice to have a girl or boy her own age to talk to. Someone that she could talk about stupid crap with. She tried being friends with Izuku when she and her brother officially moved in with the Midoryia’s, but they never saw her or Daniel as their own people. Izuku never really cared that YN was great at math. The best in her class. That she had a tiny interest in math because the answers were always exact and never had to be debated. He didn’t bother to care that YN liked reading romance and horror stories, that she really liked cheesy murder mystery movies with a twist villain hidden in plain sight. Izuku knew those things about her, but he just wrote it down in his notebook and filed it away like she wasn’t a person. They were no better to Daniel either. He was treated like an incompetant child. Like he was stupid and a baby. Sure he was disabled but he wasn’t incapable of everything. If they bothered talking and treating him like a person they’d see how complex he was. They’d see that he was so talented when he painted, that he could find a focus on the small important details. That Daniel, while he couldn’t understand complex emotions, could create beautiful things. Daniel had a delayed mind, but he loved figuring out puzzles. Daniel loved pinwheels and painted windmills, loved when they spun to beautiful colours. But did they care, no they saw only a child that needed to be coddled and kept away from how beautiful the world could be. YN couldn’t help but tear up as she held her knees to her chest. Why? Why couldn’t Izuku have been the friend she needed when her parents died? Why didn’t she try harder to make friends when she was at public school? Why did she act so introverted and angry at everyone? Just as she was about to cry, YN felt two long arms wrap around her. “Why you sad?” “It’s nothing really. I just… I really miss momma and pop. I really wish they were here.” “....Me too.” So the two hugged tightly. For tonight and every night that will come, they’ll have each other. In another place, a skinny blue haired villain placed a severed hand on his face. Determined to please his master, his father figure, Shigaraki set out to find the two troubled teens. They couldn’t be hidden forever. Besides, AFO should be allowed to see his children. He was their father, by blood. Shigaraki wasn’t an idiot though. He knew that the incident caused a commotion for those hungry for power. Ready to use quirk off the Boy. Shigaraki made sure to send some of his underlings out to gather intel and report whether or not other crimelords had their sights and claws on the teens. He had to be careful not to cause a scene and bring the heroes upon them. As the cold night blew his hair slightly, Shigaraki pondered the situation. Sensei had a wife, and three children? But not all share the same mother. He didn’t raise his three children, but he looked after them. But out of all of them Sensei chose to raise Shigaraki. He felt special. Sensei wanted to be near him. Nonetheless, these two were family. His sorta siblings. And he would bring them home. 🌗🌗

Daniel and YN part 11 🌗🌗

Young Izuku had the foundations to be a great hero. He was kind, string in heart, brave, and a little stupid. Toshinori knew that he would make a fine owner of OFA. And when he trained the boy he saw the makings of a new symbol of peace. Inko was a beautiful woman, even if she was too anxious to notice. He felt this urge to love and protect her. And over the months with her and Izuku, they formed a genuine love. Toshinori was a little concerned at first when he met YN and Daniel though. He did not really understand why they were kept so sheltered and why they were so babied. YN seemed like a capable young woman. But like with Izuku and Inko, the more time he spent near them, the more he felt protective, loving, obsessive. “Ah, good morning young YN. How was your night?” “What do you think. You stole my switchblade.” Inko seemed to bristle a bit at YN’s angry tone. “Sweetie.. We just thought that you could get hurt. It’s for the best. You know that w-” “That you only want the best for me. Yea I heard the same argument over and over again. And each time it’s still bull.” Before either could reprimand her, she stomped to her room slamming the door. Mornings usually weren’t so great. Especially when the night before they had to make big decisions regr=arding her safety. On All Might’s days off he would spend time with the Midoryia’s, sometimes it would go smoothly and sometimes the mood couldn’t surpass a funeral. All Might felt that he should’ve noticed the signs that YN was going to run away sooner. Perhaps then he could have intervened and then the whole family could air out why things were the way they were.

The first signs had to be when YN kept interfering with the way Inko felt was right to take care of poor Daniel. “Come on Daniel, It’s time to go to the learning center.” “Oh sweetie, I forgot to tell you that we pulled Daniel out of the center classes.” “What?” When YN’s face turned, All Might could see that a screaming match would begin, well not really a match considering young YN would be doing all the screaming. He was just here to pick up young Midoryia but he couldn’t help but stop in. “Well it’s just that Daniel learns so much better at a home, and the center is full of so many people that would be mean to him. Besides, he doesn’t really need to be at the center when I can take care of him.” “Yes he does! How is he gonna learn to cook and clean and manage any type of money if you refuse to let him learn!?!” “Daniel’s mind can’t handle all the new information. He might start to panic and his quirk might-” “YOU don’t know a GODDAMN thing about him! About what is best for him! You wanna do what’s best for my brother?! Than STOP treating him like he’s completely incompetent!” Before she could yell another word All Might stepped in with his trademark ‘I AM HERE’ . “Now young YN that’s no way to speak to your foster mother. She just believes that someone more personal should be teaching Daniel these things. That's not so bad is it?” “But-” “IS IT?” “Fine.I’ll get my school work done early so that I can teach Daniel in the afternoon.”

With that the argument was resolved. If only that was the last time she lashed out at them. If only he prevented the biggest fight that broke out between Izuku and YN. “Will you stop pestering him about his quirk?! It obviously makes him uncomfortable!” YN had walked into the room seeing Izuku asking Daniel all sorts of questions about his quirk and how he used it. It would’ve been fine had he stopped at the first two questions, but he kept going on and on. Wouldn’t stop asking about the destructive qualities, or about how his mind sometimes couldn’t comprehend his own quirk. Izuku didn’t notice how uncomfortable Daniel was getting. “I was just asking him some questions!” “You were being a jerk!” Before Izuku could yell at her again, the table and the mirrors broke. Both turned to see Daniel staring furious and scared, tears streaming down his cheeks. “Don’t scream at my sister!” He spoke angrily. He was so brave, so ready to defend his baby sister. Daniel could’ve brought the whole room down, had All Might in his ultimate form not stepped and stopped him. All Might should’ve known not to grab him and held him down. He should’ve known that the constriction made Daniel panic. Made him destroy more things to make it stop. The screaming continued, until YN grabbed her brother and calmed him. They barricaded themselves in her room that night. And in the morning, the three tried to act like it didn’t happen. All Might took the kids out for the day. Celebrating Izuku’s placement in the hero program. The signs were there that day. The signs that they were going to run. That they were going to leave. If only All Might had seen the signs. If only Toshinori hadn’t gotten attached to them. 🌗🌗

Daniel and YN part 12 🌗🌗

Toshinori was a good man. He wasn’t perfect but he was a good man. He had a moral code and knew right from wrong. Though selfish desires sometimes took his attention more than the moral desires. He knew it was wrong to smother and coddle Daniel and YN, but he couldn’t help wanting to protect them. Even if they didn’t want it. He felt like Izuku, YN, and Daniel were like his children. He felt just as protective over Izuku as he was over YN and Daniel. But he couldn’t coddle him like the other two. He had a duty to Nana to pass on OFA, Izuku had to live up to that power now. And he was so dedicated to being a hero. Toshinori wanted to do right by all the kids. He felt that it was his duty to find his missing kids, and bring them home. Let YN know that he didn’t feel angry that she left. Let Daniel know that he was sorry. So before he could work with his arch enemy, he decided to learn more about the two. So that when they were found again, he could show them that he was ready to be a real mentor figure, a guardian. When he entered YN’s room, it was not what he expected. He thought the sullen looking problem child would have grunge posters, a dirty room, torn up clothes and what not. Imagine his surprise when he saw colourful mini lantern lights strung over the walls. A math book along with several romance and horror storybooks. Her bedspread was a mix of several pillows and a giant comforter. Something that he’s sure would look inviting after a long day. There was a fluffy rug that cushioned his feet. The curtains were dark and cut out all light. On her bookshelf there was a collection of old murder mystery and comedy movies. When he popped one into the small tv player, he felt a stronger connection than before with her. Laughing at the cheesy twists and overacting. She was more than just a quirkless victim. She felt like a daughter to him. Toshinori never understood why he never went into Daniel’s room before. Of course Inko was there. Holding Daniel’s favorite pillow. This room, like the other, was a window into someone that Toshinori never actually knew. For some reason he thought Daniel would have soft light wall colors and some doodles on the wall. But the walls were an earthy dark blue. His blankets were patterned with prints of old paintings. There were canvases of unfinished pieces of art littered around the desk and bed. Notes and papers of unconnected thoughts all tucked away in a drawer. He spotted a framed photo of what he assumed were Daniel’s parents. Hidden under his pillows. When he saw the ceiling, it was a mix of a starry night sky but had handprints all over. In various colors. Touching his own hand to the print, Toshinori felt a connection to the boy. It was like a click happened. He wasn’t just a boy struggling with his developmental disability. Daniel saw the world in colors and was just frustrated that no one could understand those colors. Daniel wasn’t an emotionally compromised person with a violent quirk, he was a boy who wanted to be happy and understood. That day, Toshinori finally felt the wall that was preventing him from really understanding these two was finally lifted. And had he been listening to his moral side he would’ve known to not pursue them. But his selfish side won that fight. With his new understanding came an ugly obsession. A protective instinct to hold and protect them even more. Whilst quirkless YN might be strong and smart, she was too emotional and easy to provoke. Daniel might not be safe out there either. He loses control when people don’t understand. But Toshinori understood now. He would keep his children safe. Izuku, Daniel, and YN. Even if he had to work with the devil. “I’ll bring you home. Everything will be okay. Because I am here.” 🌗🌗

Amazing work as always moon anon! The story has become quite interesting! Its inspiring me to write for platonic AFO, something that I've not talked about for quite a while. Him and well, Erasermic

#moon anon

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