#someone lemme go back to meet the me a year ago and smack her to stop her from writing this catharsis
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Love Blooming
Fandom: Triple Frontier
Pairing: Frankie "Catfish" Morales x F!Reader
Summary: It started when Frankie walked into a flower shop...
A/N: I'm willing to write a part 2 if someone wants it.
Frankie felt so out of his limit. When Will insisted to set him on a blind date, he uninterestingly agreed, thinking that Will would forget about it. Turns out he didn't. So now Frankie is rushing. He's sweaty, coming straight from work to pick up Mia, paying the babysitter, dropping off Mia. Now he had to grab some flowers, and maybe buy some cologne or body spray from the store nearby so he doesn't smell so bad.
He enters the small flower shop and he's overwhelmed by the different floral aromas and colors.
"Be right out!" you call out from the back. A few seconds pass and you step out holding a tray of small succulents. You set them down on the table and when you look at Frankie, your eyes light up and you smile brightly at him, "Hi there! What can I do for you today?" He thinks you look beautiful with your smile and the flower clips in your hair.
Frankie nervously rubs the back of his neck and walks closer to the counter, "Um...I'd like some flowers."
You giggle, "Well you came to the right place. What's the occasion?"
"A date."
"Do you happen to know what the person likes?" you ask interestingly.
He sighs and shakes his head, "No. This is a first date, blind date. One that don't even want to go on, honestly." he murmurs the last part and winces, "Sorry. I didn't-"
"It's okay. I think we'll go with daffodils. They're simple, pretty, and symbolize new beginnings. I think that fits for first dates. You never know if it's that start of something, ya know?" You move around the counter towards the greenhouse. You don't signal for Frankie to follow, but he does anyway.
When you feel his presence, you glance over your shoulder and give him a polite smile. He doesn't know why, but his stomach flutters whenever you seem to look at him.
"So Mister..."
"Frankie. Call me Frankie."
"Frankie, okay," you stop in front of the daffodils, pulling out your gardening scissors from your apron and you start cutting, "I'm guessing your friend set you up on this blind date against your will?"
Frankie stuffs his hands in his back pockets and sighs, "Sorta. I mean, he offered to set me up with her a few weeks ago and I blindly said yes. I honestly thought he'd forget about it. I was wrong."
"Not looking to date right now?"
"I got a lot on my plate right now, honestly."
You nodded, "I see." you pull out some twine from your other apron pocket and bind the bundle of flowers together. You then hand them to Frankie, "Here ya go! I hope you enjoy your date!"
Frankie took the flowers and looked at you with furrowed brows, "Don't need to pay for these?"
"Free of charge."
"You sure?"
"Definitely. I really hope things go well on your date."
"Um thanks-" you give him your name and he repeats it and you nod in confirmation, "Well thanks. I guess if I'll ever need flowers again, I'll come to you."
"Please do! Bye, Frankie!" you escort him to the door and wave as he hops into his truck, driving away.
Frankie looks at the time and sees that he's running late. Guess he'll have to skip out on the cologne.
___________________
It's two weeks later when Frankie walks back into your shop, this time he has Mia attached to his hip.
You're at the counter already helping another customer, but a minute later, they're walking away and you're giving him a welcoming wave.
"Frankie! It's good to see you again!" He approaches the counter and sets Mia down and you smile softly at her, "And who's this cutie?"
"This is my daughter, Mia. Honey, say hi!"
The three year old looks at you and then hides her face into Frankie's shirt and you giggle, "She's shy, I see. It's okay. Anyway, what can I help you with today? Oh! How was the date?"
He shrugged, "Alright. We didn't really click."
Your shoulders sagged in disappointment, "Oh. I'm sorry."
"It's okay. She liked the flowers though. So I guess there's that. Anyway, um, I'm on my way to a friend's engagement party. Didn't have time to really get them anything."
"Well I'm here at your disposal! Follow me!" you walk towards the greenhouse and Frankie picks up Mia, setting her down. Her small hand goes into his and the two Morales' follow you.
"So yellow tulips symbolize cheerful thoughts, which I suppose you're sending when people get engaged." You pull out your scissors and hold them out to Frankie, "Here."
"What?"
"You and Mia can cut them. Grab as many as you'd like."
"You sure?"
"Yup!"
"Okay," he takes the flowers and kneels beside the flowerbed of yellow tulips, "Honey, you wanna cut some flowers for Uncle Benny?"
You see Frankie's eyes go soft as he guide's his daughters hands across the scissor and cuts one flower off, "Good job, sweetheart!" he kisses her head, "Let's do a few more, okay?"
Mia giggles and says, "'Kay, daddy."
You go back to the counter to sort out a new shipment of seeds. A few minutes later, Frankie appears setting the flowers down. He pulls out his wallet as you wrap the flowers up, "I'm paying for the flowers this time."
You shake your head, "No, you're not."
"Oh come on."
You shake your head again, "Seeing you and Mia have some cute daddy and daughter time was payment enough." Frankie says your name and you stop him, "Nope!" You also slide a card over to him, "And here's a card to go with it. Just scribble your name and you're good to go."
Frankie chuckles in disbelief as he writes his and Mia's name in the card. He then takes it and the flowers in one hand, his other hand preoccupied with Mia's, "You're losing money doing this."
"Hardly. But I hope you guys have a good rest of your day!" you leaned over the counter and waved at Mia, "Bye Mia! It was nice meeting you!"
Mia, feeling a little more comfortable, smiled shyly and waved, making you giggle. Frankie smiles at the sight and sound, then clears his throat, "I don't mean to be forward, but, um, would you like to get some coffee sometime?"
You brightly smile at him again, "I'd love to!" you take a business card and scribble your personal number, "I usually take Fridays and Sundays off."
"Who runs the shop when you're not here?"
"I have other employees. But call or text me sometime and we can hash out the details."
"Alright," he smiles and pockets the card. He gives you a wave, "Thanks again."
"Anytime," you say as you wave back and watch as Frankie and Mia hop into the truck and drive away.
___________________
You and Frankie have been texting back and forth for two weeks. He's been really busy with work lately, hence why you've yet to go on that coffee date.
Frankie: So I know I asked you out for coffee, but do you actually drink coffee? Or are you more of a tea person?
You: I do drink coffee, yes. Usually something sweet with vanilla or cinnamon flavoring.
Frankie: You're one of THOSE people.
You: DON'T KNOCK IT UNTIL YOU TRY IT, FRANKIE!
Frankie: ;)
That's all he sends you and you were going to reply, but a few customers have walked in and you became preoccupied.
You're finishing up and order when you see Frankie walking through the door with two coffees and a paper bag.
You give him another one of those heart stopping smiles and he seems to blush from that, "Hey! You didn't tell me you were coming!"
"That would've ruined the surprise, cherry blossom."
You cocked a brow at him and smiled, "Cherry blossom?"
He shrugged, "I dunno. It fits. You work at a flower shop and...you're as beautiful as a cherry blossom."
You feel your cheeks heat up at the compliment, "Well, aren't you sweet."
"Have you had lunch yet?"
"I haven't."
He gives you a questioning look and you snicker, "Lemme just get Jess to take over the front. If you head through those doors at the back of the greenhouse, it leads to my favorite hiding spot. Meet me there?"
"Yes, ma'am." Frankie replies with a nod and proceeds to head over.
You quickly rush to the back where Jess is, "Quick! Take over the front!"
"What? But why so...rushy?"
"Frankie's here and he brought me coffee and lunch!"
"Frankie, hot dilf, Frankie?"
You groan, "Don't call him that, but yes!" You practically rip off your work apron, dust off any soil left on your clothes and fix your hair to look less messy, "How do I look?"
"Decent."
"Good enough!"
You quickly rush to the back where you told Frankie to met you and let out a deep breath before stepping in, "So, what made you decide to bring me lunch?"
"The fact that I've been so busy that I keep pushing back our date. I figured that I have time now, might as well."
"Eager, hm?" you laugh when he shyly looks away and you place your hand on his arm, "Hey, it's okay. It's cute. You're cute." then you scrunched your face up, "No. That's weird. It's like we're teenagers saying that. We're adults. You're handsome. There. That sounds better."
Frankie chuckles and then looks around the room, "This is a nice area."
"Thanks. It used to be storage, but I wanted to have a place where we can hold classes or little luncheons for guests. It's not finished yet."
"Still looks beautiful," he notes the vines going down the frames of the windows, the soft pastels of different flowers. His eyes go back to you and he sees you softly staring back at him.
Your gaze makes him nervous so he grabs two sandwiches from the paper bag he brought, "I, uh, didn't know if you liked sandwiches, but these are best sellers."
"Thank you, and for future reference, I'm not picky."
"Good to know," he then takes your coffee, handing it to you, "I hope this is to your liking."
You accepted it and took a sip, smacking your lips together to really get a taste, "Mmmm! That's some good stuff right there!" and Frankie let out a breath of relief. You giggled, setting the drink down, "Are you always this nervous when it comes to dates, Frankie?"
"I...Well, to be honest, haven't gone on dates in a long time. Since Mia was born and my ex and I separated, never really had time. It wasn't a priority because my main focus was on my little girl. That blind date was my first date in a few years."
"So what changed?"
Frankie bit his lip and nervously reached out, placing his hand over yours, "You. God, I don't know what it is about you, cherry blossom, but you just seem to pull me in. I want to get to know you, take you out, hold you, kiss you. All of it." his thumb softly rubs against the back of your hand and you smile sweetly at him.
"I get what you're saying, Frankie, because I feel that way about you too. The way you're so sweet and kind, you're a great father to Mia, and you care about your friends. I'd love to continue getting to know you. There's just something about you to that pulls me towards you."
"If we do this, I just...I need to warn you that I'm a little rough around the edges. I've gone through some stuff-"
"-And that's okay. And you don't need to share that with me unless you want to."
Frankie chuckles to himself and shakes his head, "You wanna know something?"
"Hm?"
"I'm glad I went on that blind date, because if I didn't, I wouldn't have met you, cherry blossom."
You giggle and place your other hand on top of Frankie's, "I think that nickname is starting to grow on me. I was a little iffy of it at first but the way you say it...sounds so sweet. You're so sweet, Frankie."
Jess walks into the room with her hand over her eyes, "Are you guys decent?"
You roll your eyes and look over your shoulder, "Quit it, will you?"
Jess drops her hand and smirks at you, then looks at Frankie, "Oh yeah. Definitely a dilf."
"JESS!"
The young woman cackles and dodges a napkin ball you've thrown her way, "Okay! Okay! I'm sorry! Anyway, a delivery arrived. You want me to sign it off?"
"Please do," you reply with a nod.
"I can go if you're busy," Frankie said and you immediately replied, "No no. You're staying. Jess can handle everything."
The young woman saluted, "Yup! I can handle it. Also, remember to use prote-"
"I CAN FIRE YOU, YOU KNOW!"
She proceeds to rush out of there and back to the storefront and you groan, letting your head fall into your hands.
"So....you think I'm a dilf?"
Your head shot up and your eyes widened, "No! I mean, yes, but no! i just told Jess that you're a dad who also happens to be very attractive!"
"So a dilf."
You ball up another napkin and throw it at Frankie, who's just laughing wholeheartedly.
#frankie morales#frankie morales x reader#frankie catfish morales#frankie catfish morales x reader#fem!reader#female!reader#triple frontier
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Poetry
Anddd day 9 is doneee!! Plus, it includes a bit of post-reveal, pre-relationship which is one of my faveee tropes <3. I don’t think I’ve ever written it for Ladrien either haha. Lemme know what you think :)
AO3
“Do you remember that poem you wrote?” Ladybug asked, leaning towards him with her chin in her hand as she blinked at him with a pair of big, innocent sapphire eyes.
“W-what poem?” Adrien choked out, still wondering how he was even able to talk to her. This was Marinette. Who was also Ladybug. The love of his life. That fact made it almost even more impossible for him to function around her. He was the luckiest cat in the world.
They had revealed their identities a few months beforehand. Fortunately for him, they had both stumbled into the same alleyway to detransform and didn’t have time to stop before they became their civilian selves again. To say that it was a joy to have Marinette be Ladybug was an understatement. It was practically heaven to know that the girl sitting behind him every day was the love of his life. Of course, it only reaffirmed just how out of his league she was. Marinette was much too perfect for him.
That hadn’t stopped him from sneaking out of his house to meet up with her as Chat Noir, though. At least, until his father started to get suspicious somehow, keeping him under a tighter lock and key. Thus, Ladybug began to sneak into his room so that they could continue their late-night talks. It was still hard for him to fully believe it. Adrien was still determined to keep her as close to him as possible, however. If he would never be able to kiss her and hold her hand as he had always dreamed, he could at least be her best friend.
“Valentine’s Day a few years ago,” Ladybug giggled nervously, pulling at a loose thread on his couch. “You wrote a poem about a girl whose hair was dark as night and who had pretty bluebell eyes.”
Adrien tensed up, his eyes widening in horror. She had read that?! He had thought he had thrown that stupid poem away after he couldn’t quite get the words out. Clearing his throat, he winced as he voiced his concerns, “You read that? I thought I threw that stupid poem away.”
She stopped pulling on the loose thread, whipping her head up as she blinked at him in surprise. Ladybug laughed awkwardly, waving her hand in the air as she began to stutter and stammer. “Y-you did... really? Huh, I-I wonder how I did find that poem then. M-maybe I had accidentally read it over your shoulder in class or something. Pfft, who knows. J-just forget I asked, okay?”
As she turned as red as her mask, Adrien smiled at her fondly, watching as her eyes darted from side to side. How had he missed it earlier? It was so obvious who Ladybug was. She and Marinette both shared so many similar qualities. With a small chuckle, he nodded his head. “Yes, I do remember writing that poem.”
She squeaked but lifted her head back up to meet his gaze again. Clearing her throat, she tapped her fingers together nervously, “A-and do you remember who you wrote it about?”
“You mean you don’t know?” Adrien frowned. “I figured it was pretty obvious that it was about you, Ladybug. Especially now that you well... know who I am.”
He gestured to her as his cheeks turned a light pink. Scolding himself, he wondered why he was even telling her any of this. It wasn’t like it would change anything. Ladybug’s eyes grew wider as she pointed at herself. “R-really?” she asked. Rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly, he nodded his head.
“Wow,” she murmured, leaning back on the couch as she blinked up at the ceiling. “I guess the response poem that I wrote back wasn’t for nothing then.”
“Wait, wait, wait,” Adrien’s frown got deeper. “Response poem? What response poem?”
Ladybug turned an even darker red, ducking her head back down as she giggled shyly. “Yeah, I-I kind of wrote a response to that poem a while back. I don’t think you ever got it, though, because I forgot to sign it.”
Worrying his lower lip, he scanned his memory, trying to remember if he ever got a poem back. It was then that he remembered the time Plagg had brought out all of his Valentine’s Day cards. Adrien's eyes widened as he blinked in surprise. He distinctly remembered comparing the handwriting to Marinette’s and then brushing it off. Smacking a hand to his forehead, he groaned to himself. He had been so close.
“That was you?” he whispered, “Really?”
“Mhm.” She hummed, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear.
Adrien leaned closer to her, scanning her eyes for something. Ladybug simply stared back at him, her lips slightly parted in shock. Running a hand through his hair, he asked, “But why? Why did you write a response poem?”
Ladybug flushed, rubbing her arm as she gave him a small, almost nervous smile. “W-well, I-I may have, sort of, kind of, had a bit of a crazy crush on you back then. D-don’t worry though! I know you don’t feel that way about me anymore! I don’t even know why I brought this up. We should just forget about it.”
She turned forward stiffly, staring resolutely at the TV which was still playing a show that he had forgotten about a long time ago. Ladybug in love with him? The idea was too laughable to even consider a reality.
Carefully, Adrien reached out, placing a hand on her arm. Ladybug stared down at it before meeting his gaze again cautiously. He shook his head slowly, staring at her desperately. “I don’t understand... Ladybug, I’ve been in love with you for years. Why would you think that’s changed? It’s you who's always said you’ve been in love with someone else.”
She chuckled but it was more of a scoff. “That’s because I’ve been in love with you, Adrien. I thought it was obvious.”
“Not to me,” he moved his head from side to side, feeling like his entire world was crashing down around him. How had he missed this? “Never to me.”
“But your feelings have changed, though, right?” Ladybug asked, her blue eyes searching his gaze.
“No,” Adrien breathlessly responded. Unable to help himself, his eyes darted down to look at her lips after she licked them. “A-and you? Did your feelings change?”
Instead of responding, she simply shook her head. Feeling bold after that declaration, he swooped forward, capturing her lips in a sweet kiss. Tilting his head, he deepened their kiss, determined to make certain they both remembered it this time. After this, he was never letting Ladybug go again. They needed to make up for the lost time they had spent dancing around each other. Smiling into their kiss, Adrien tangled his fingers in her hair, wondering just how long they could have been doing this if they weren’t such idiots.
#ladrienjune2021#ladrienjune#ladrien#adrinette#adrienette#post reveal#pre relationship#post pre#post reveal pre relationship#miraculous#miraculous ladybug#ml#mlb
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Caught Up and Confused- Part 2
(You can find part 1 over here)
TW: Implied Child Death
***
Sam drops on the edge of the hotel room bed and pinches the bridge of his nose. I hate you so much and I love watching you suffer. Bucky's words ring in his ears repeatedly. Sam takes out his phone from his pocket and browses through the few photos of Bucky and himself he still has on there. He stops on the one where they were at a bar. Sam had his arm around Bucky’s shoulders and the two of them were talking about something while broadly smiling at each other, lost in their own world.. That was one of the last times they were genuinely happy.
***
One Year Ago
“Daddy! Noooooo!!!” Riley squeals as she runs through the park, her mop of curls bouncing, as Bucky chased after her.
“I’m gonna get you!” Bucky could easily catch her, but he was deliberately running at a slower speed to let the 3-year-old win.
Sam watches them in awe and takes out his phone to capture the moment. The collective laughs of his husband and his daughter make his heart melt.
“Awwww what a cute family!” Sam hears someone say, which makes his smile grow even wider.
“Wait… isn’t that--”
And just like that, he was recognized. It isn’t long before a group of 20-something year-olds come over to him and ask for autographs and selfies with him which Sam graciously provides.
“You done, Superstar?” Bucky asks, walking over to him with Riley in his arms. The toddler has her head on Bucky’s shoulder. “This little Superstar is falling asleep.”
“You guys make the cutest family, Sam,” says one of the Captain America fans with a smile that makes Sam feel a little uneasy. There was something eerie about that man. Sam’s sure he’s seen him quite a few times before.
“Sorry,” Sam whispers when the fans are out of earshot. He knows Bucky doesn’t like being hounded by fans when they are out having family time, but Sam was bad at saying no.
“It’s okay,” Bucky shrugs as he walks around with Riley, gently thumping her back as he tries to put her to sleep. .
“Let’s go home. It’s been a long day.” Sam packs up their stuff and gets up kissing both his daughter and his husband on the head.
***
Sam was supposed to be recuperating at home after breaking his arm during the last mission, but his PR agent called and claimed that Sam just had to do a few last-minute interviews with the other Avengers and Sam couldn’t say no. Again. The interview ended up being longer than Sam would have liked and by the time he got out and turned his phone on; he noticed there were 20 missed calls.
Sam’s heart skipped a beat, wondering why his husband would call him so much. There are also calls from an unknown number, but Sam ignores it and calls Bucky. “Buck, what’s wrong? What’s with all the missed calls?”
“Please tell me Riley is with you,” Bucky replies.
“Of course, she’s not with me. I was in interviews the whole day. Is she not with you?” Sam’s hands and feet suddenly become icy cold and his heart pumps hard in his chest.
“I left you a message earlier, asking you to pick her up because I had to reschedule my therapy session today. I thought you were at home!”
Right at the moment, Sam gets another incoming call, but he ignores it.
“Did you check the daycare?” Sam asks
“Of course, I did!” Bucky yells. “They said you sent your PR agent to get her. Isn’t he on the approved list of people to pick her up?”
“Yeah… but Kevin has been here at the interviews the whole day. He didn’t go anywhere.”
There is a beep on the other end, indicating another incoming call. It’s the same number from earlier. Sam doesn’t know why, but he feels like he should answer it. “Bucky, I have another incoming call.”
Ignoring what Bucky has to say, Sam answers the call and the first thing he hears is “Papa!”
“Riley.” Sam gasps
“Hello, Sam,” says an unfamiliar voice on the other end.
Sam’s heart sinks to the bottom of his stomach. “Who is this?”
“That’s not important. What’s important is that I have your daughter.”
Sam’s hand shakes and as does his voice as he asks, “Wh-- what do you want?”
“To meet you. I’ll send you the address and instructions. Follow them exactly and you will have your daughter back.”
***
Present Day
Sam goes back to Bucky’s apartment and tries the buzzer, but no one answers this time. Either Bucky knows it’s him and he’s ignoring him or he is out, Sam figures. Deciding he has no other options, Sam makes the call he hoped he wouldn’t have to. “Joaquin, hey,”
“Sam? Where have you been all day? I was worried sick!” Joaquin answers.
“Joaquin, I— I need a favor,” Sam replies nervously.
“Yeah, of course, anything for you.”
Sam hates taking advantage of him like this, but he was the only one who could help him. “Can you trace Bucky’s phone for me?”
There is silence on the other end, and Sam wonders if Joaquin has hung up.
“Joaquin?” He calls out
“I’m here…” Joaquin replies slowly. “Why do you wanna trace Bucky’s phone, Sam?”
“He won’t talk to me. I need to know where he is’”
There’s another pause before Joaquin says, “Sam, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Joaquin… please,” Sam begs
“Is this about the divorce papers? You do know there are other ways for you to get him to sign them, right?”
“I can’t afford a lawyer,” Sam reminds him. “And neither can Bucky. This is the only way.”
“Sam--”
“Joaquin,” Sam interrupts him. “I just--- I also need to know that he’s okay. We had a fight earlier today.” Telling Joaquin that he worried about Bucky probably wasn’t the best idea, but he just wanted to be honest with the man.
“Do you still have feelings for him?” Joaquin asks, sounding worried.
“I don’t,” Sam answers without missing a beat. It was true. Sam didn’t have feelings for his former husband anymore. He just cared about the man somewhere deep down, but that’s as far as it went.
Joaquin sighs and Sam can hear him typing something away on the other end. “He is in Hell’s Kitchen. At some bar called Josie’s. I’ll send you the address.”
“Thanks, Joaquin. I owe you one,” Sam says, gratefully.
“And Sam?” Joaquin calls out in a tender voice.
“Yeah?”
“Take care of yourself.”
“I will,” Sam assures him and smiles to himself before hanging up.
***
When Sam arrives at the dingy hole-in-a-wall bar, he scrunches up his nose. Why Bucky would feel the need to come all the way out here to get drunk was beyond him. Sam finds the place empty when he enters, and it doesn’t take him long to spot Bucky. He’s hunched over at the bar, nursing a bottle of beer. He isn’t alone, though. Sam spots a familiar face next to him and slowly approaches the two.
“Misty. Bucky.”
Both of them look up at him with equal looks of surprise on their faces.
“Sam!” Misty greets. “Wow, what are you doing here?”
“How did you find me?” Bucky demands, his voice rough and accusing.
“You knew he was in town?” Misty asks. “And you didn’t tell me.”
“Didn’t think it was important,” Bucky grumbles.
“Your ex-husband, my friend, is in town and you didn’t think it was important to tell me.” She smacks Bucky upside the head before jumping out of the stool. She pulls Sam into a tight hug and Sam returns her hug with as much enthusiasm. At least someone is happy to see him. Sam looks at Bucky over her shoulder. But the man doesn’t even acknowledge him. Sam doesn’t know why, but that hurts.
When they pull apart, Misty keeps her hands on Sam’s shoulders. “Lemme take a look at you. You left New York 7 months ago and pretty much disappeared from the face of the Earth.”
“And that really surprises you?” Bucky scoffs, keeping his gaze on Misty.
“Bucky--” Misty says as a warning.
“Ask him if he visited her.”
Sam feels his throat tighten up at that.
Misty gives him a sympathetic look, which makes Sam want to cry even more.
“I didn’t. I can’t,” Sam lets out a choked reply.
“Oh, Sam.” Misty places her bionic arm on his shoulder.
“Well, imagine living here then.” Bucky snaps. He throws cash on the bar and gets out of his seat. When he tries to walk past Sam, Sam grabs him by the arm.
“I’m sorry, Bucky.” He apologizes desperately. “I’m sorry I couldn’t save her.”
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Between High and Low (RDR2 Fanfic, Morgan Twins x F!Reader, 18+, Part 1 of 2)
Summary: Arthur and Thorne, the legendary twin enforcers of the Van der Linde gang, have set their sights on you, the new member. How will you deal with two men who want you for their own?
Author’s Notes: A year ago, I offered to write @mrskrazy anything. Only recently has a request been made, and I am happy to make good on my offer. So for you, my darling, a smutty fic with double the fun! Takes place in an AU in 1898, north of everything in game.
Tags: twin au, Morgan twins x Reader, smut, threeway, doggy style, anal sex, teasing, creampie, fast forward slow burn, double penetration, spanking
AO3 Link is here, sweetie.
--------------------
Chapter 1: Meeting the Twins
Word count: 3069
“Who’s that?”
“Who’s she.”
“Whatever. Answer the question.”
Arthur sighed. Thorne was impatient, headstrong, and dumb as bricks. Granted, he wasn’t much smarter, but he sometimes wondered how Thorne was the older twin. “She was rescued by Hosea and Lenny while they was robbin’ some fellers out near Big Timber. They had her all tied up, and when Lenny offered to take her home, she said she had nowhere to go. So they brought her here.”
“Tied up, huh?”
Arthur smacked Thorne in the gut. “Don’tchu be thinkin’ about that.”
Thorne laughed. “You can’t tell me you weren’t thinkin’ it too.”
Arthur grumbled.
“Don’t deny it. You got the same cravin’ I do, you just try to act civilized.” Thorne walked past him towards the new girl. “I don’t have such proclivities.”
Arthur immediately got up and followed him, not wanting him to frighten the poor thing.
***
You had been here for three days, trying to adjust to your new life. Hosea and Lenny had brought you here after you had been kidnapped.
As an orphan in St. Denis, there wasn’t much fun to be had while scrounging for scraps to survive. You had fallen in with a group of kids and teens who made their living stealing from anyone who walked by and looked too dumb to be paying attention to dirty orphans in the streets.
But as you got older, you could not dodge and weave through the streets as you had been able to before. So you had traveled north and taken a job at a local saloon as a dancing girl, making a decent living. For years, you were doing well enough that you could relax and take it easy some nights, reading and writing on your own.
That is, until a few cowboys got a little too rowdy and tried to take you to bed. You weren’t that kind of saloon girl, so when you said no to them for the final time, they decided to kidnap you. They took you back to their ranch, but Hosea and Lenny had been there, robbing the place. After some shooting and chaos, you had begged them to take you with them, and they did so, not questioning your cry for help.
When they asked you where you wanted to be taken, you thought about it. Not wanting to go back to that town, you told them you had nowhere else to go. Luckily they took pity on you and brought you with them to the gang.
So here you were, cleaning clothes and pans, trying to fit in. Susan was a tiger mother, barking orders and yelling at the other girls, but she also was the first to defend them if any of the men got out of line. Tilly quickly befriended you, teaching you how to clean and cook like they did, and Mary-Beth would ask you questions about your time as a saloon girl. Karen was a great drinking buddy and Abigail was fierce but kind.
Three whole days, and you felt like they had become your family.
The men here were not like some of the men you had seen in the saloons. You were pleasantly surprised when none of them made any advances towards you when you first showed up. Perhaps they were biding their time. Or perhaps Dutch and Hosea had warned them off. They both seemed like the fatherly type, but you could tell that Hosea was sharp and could snap at any of them. They all seemed to listen to him, and you wondered if it was out of genuine respect, or fear.
One man in particular had caught your attention: Arthur Morgan, introduced to you as the enforcer for the Van der Linde gang. He was handsome with a short haircut, parted to the right, and a casual stride that you found your eyes gravitating to every time he was near. His clothing was generally all black, with a vest and button-up shirt, sometimes with a neckerchief. He perpetually had a five-o’clock shadow, even though he shaved just about every morning.
When you heard a horse come up to camp, you had glanced up to see who it was; you were confused for a moment; you thought Arthur was in camp already, and you hadn’t heard him leave. You shook your head. You were obsessing over a man you had barely known for three days. Turning back to your wash basin, you continued to clean the shirt you had just dunked into the cold water.
Then you heard footsteps coming towards you.
“Hey there, sweetheart.”
You looked up and blinked. He looked like Arthur, except he had grown out a short beard, and somewhat longer hair, parted to the left. You swear you had just seen him with his usual short hair and stubble a few hours before.
And Arthur had never called you sweetheart. Always ‘miss’ or ‘m’lady’. Never sweetheart.
“Um, hello... Arthur?” you said tentatively as you took your hands out of the cold water and wiped them on your apron.
‘Arthur’ laughed heartily. “Call me whatever you like sweet girl, if it’ll make you happy.” He stepped closer to you and kneeled down on one knee next to you. He took your hands in his. “So cold. Lemme warm you up.”
You felt your cheeks grow warm as he enclosed your hands in his big ones, warming them up with gentle rubs. He looked you in the eyes, a flirty smile on his lips. You couldn’t help your heart beating faster, his charm working its way through you.
“Dammit Thorne!”
You looked past ‘Arthur’ and did a double take. Now that was Arthur, bellowing as he stomped towards the two of you. You looked back at the man in front of you and raised an eyebrow as you put the pieces together. “So your name is Thorne?”
He nodded. “Sure is.”
“And you’re Arthur’s twin?”
“Unfortunately.”
“I missed you too, asshole,” Arthur said sarcastically as he kneeled down next to Thorne, pulling his hands away from yours. He introduced you properly to Thorne, who tipped his hat to you. Apparently he had been on a job for the past week and had only just returned.
You nodded politely. “It’s a pleasure meeting you, Thorne.”
“Pleasure’s all mine, sweetheart,” he purred, a sexy smirk on his lips.
You knew he was a bad boy. You knew he wouldn’t be good for you.
Your body refused to agree.
***
For three months, as you grew accustomed to life with the gang, slowly traveling southwest from Big Timber, you learned a few things about the Morgan Twins.
You learned that they were unstoppable together. The two of them could take on a whole gang ambush and not only survive, but come back with loads of loot from the dead attackers. Sending one was enough for a job, but sending two of them? It was a guaranteed victory.
You figured out that though they were similar looking at first, they had some very clear differences once you observed them. Thorne liked to dress nicely, often disappearing with Javier into towns and coming back with another outfit. He also liked to style his hair a bit, comb his beard when no one else was watching. He also bathed more often than some of the other men. He was much more talkative than Arthur, quick-witted in his responses, sarcastic as hell. He would tease sometimes to the point of cruelty, causing Arthur to knock him out if he overheard his remarks.
Arthur was more down to earth; he cut his hair short, sometimes rather haphazardly, and kept his clothes simple, black and blues, not caring if there was an off color patch in his jeans. He was kinder, more quiet, more contemplative. He wrote in his journal when he had some downtime in camp, and was always willing to help someone with chores if they asked. You noticed he seemed to have a strong sense of loyalty, but it was more to the gang as a whole rather than just Dutch, like Thorne did.
While he and Thorne had quite different personalities, you noticed that they didn’t argue for very long. On the most important things, they were always in agreement.
You also noticed that there seemed to be a passive aggressive fight between Arthur and Thorne for your affections. If Arthur brought you a book on one day, then Thorne would bring you back flowers the next. And you were never left alone with one twin for very long; almost as if they were truly connected, the other twin would show up within the hour, interrupting any possibility of anything happening.
At first, you thought their attention was just out of kindness.
When Mary-Beth started teasing you about having both the boys at your beck and call, you laughed it off. They couldn’t both be after you.
Right?
***
On a nice day, late in the afternoon, it was cool and breezy as you finished hanging up the clothes to dry near the river where the gang was camped. Finally ready to wash up and get ready for a relaxing night by the fire, you headed back to camp, only to find Arthur walking towards you.
“Hi Arthur!” you greeted cheerfully, waving to him. He smiled, practically glowing as he came up to you.
“Hey there, darlin’,” he said.
You smiled. He had recently been calling you darling, and it was starting to grow on you.
“I was wonderin’,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck and looking down so his hat covered his eyes, “if you’d be interested in takin’ a walk with me. I know a quiet li’l overlook where we could watch the sunset.”
“I’d be delighted, Mr. Morgan,” you teased, taking his proffered arm and walking with him away from camp.
“So, how’re you likin’ life out here?” he asked after a while.
“It’s good,” you replied. “I feel at home here, and everyone here is so… real. My old life, those women I used to work with, I never felt truly comfortable there.”
Arthur nodded. “That’s good. Sounds like you’d stick around then.”
“Of course. Why would I leave?”
He smiled but said nothing more until he brought you to the overlook.
The sun was setting over the mountains in the distance, throwing reds and oranges across the landscape. The scent of pine trees and fresh mountain air brought you a sense of peace, and you closed your eyes, inhaling deeply.
“It’s so nice here,” you said with wonder.
“Yer nice too,” Arthur mumbled. You looked over at him, and he immediately turned away, blushing. “I mean, a nice lady like you, stayin’ with a bunch of outlaws… not sure if that’s the life you wanted.”
“I didn’t know I wanted this freedom until I came to live with you.”
You saw Arthur smile and tuck his head down again. Closing the distance between you two, you reached for his hand and squeezed it. “Thank you. This was a wonderful view.”
He looked up at you and opened his mouth for a moment before closing it and just nodded. He stepped closer to you and reached up to touch your face.
The sound of footsteps distracted both of you, and he immediately stepped back. You cursed your luck.
“Hey you two, what’re you doin’ out here?” Thorne asked, a smirk on his face. Oh, he knew what he was doing out here.
“None o’ yer damn business,” Arthur groused.
Thorne promptly ignored him and marched right up to stand in between you two and stared at the view. “Wow, this is some view. Arthur, why the hell didn’t you tell me about this place?”
“Fer this very reason,” Arthur grumbled.
“What was that?”
“Nothin’.” He turned to you. “Guess we better take you back before Grimshaw yells at us.”
Thorne followed the two of you down the path. “Right, I was supposed to bring you back. Susan noticed that the little lady over here hadn’t brought the washing basin back to her.”
You sighed. You knew you were in for a verbal beat down when you returned to camp.
At least you made a nice memory with Arthur. It was worth it.
***
A couple of days later, you were sitting in front of the campfire on your own, writing in your journal. Most everyone else had gone to sleep, but you wanted to take advantage of the quiet time to write without being bothered. Arthur had picked up a small journal for you on his last excursion, and when you had a moment alone, you tried to write something. You often wrote about the past, of your times in St. Denis, but tonight you were writing about the moment you shared with Arthur on the overlook. As you heard footsteps coming from behind you, you slowly closed the journal and looked up.
Thorne smiled as he sat down next to you. “Good evenin’, sweetheart,” he said smoothly. He had never stopped calling you sweetheart, even after he had learned your name. “How’re you feeling’?”
“Feeling alright,” you said tentatively. “Why? You need someone to help you rob a place?”
“No, not tonight. I was thinkin’, maybe you’d like to take a ride under the stars. Know a place where you can see the whole sky.”
Camp was in a forest by a river, and you very rarely went into town at night. You hadn’t had much time to explore the area.
“Sure,” you replied. "Let me put my book away."
Slipping your journal under your bed roll, you walked over to the horses and found Thorne patting his horse. He mounted up and held his hand out to you, a soft smile on his face. He helped you up as you clambered on behind him.
“Hold tight, sweetie,” he said, making sure you were holding onto him before he took off, speeding up as he made his way up the mountain paths, through twists and turns that forced you to cling tightly to him as you rode further up. You looked around as the trees started to give way to boulders, and soon you saw the mountain pass beginning to reach its peak.
It was then that Thorne took a small detour, picking his way through a narrow path until it opened up on the other side to reveal the valley below, and the night sky stretching out for miles around. The stars streamed across as if someone had splashed paint across a canvas, each point of light sparkling like a diamond.
Thorne got off his horse and helped you down, keeping a tight grip on your hand as he led you closer to the edge of the cliff so you could get a better view. You weren't close to the edge at all, probably at least six feet away, but Thorne's hold on you made you feel like he wasn't taking any chances.
Looking up at the stars, you marveled at how beautiful it was. With the lights in St. Denis, and even the small town you were in before the gang took you in, the night sky was never like this. “I grew up in the city. Never realized I had never seen the sky, the real sky, until now.”
You felt Thorne caress your cheek with the back of his fingers. "The wonder on yer face… I'd do anything fer that look."
You turned to him. He was close, so close that you could see the scar on his lower lip. His hand cupped your cheek, and you tilted your head into his touch instinctually, as if it was what you had always done. Leaning in, Thorne glanced down at your lips before his own parted, hungry for a taste.
"There ya are."
Thorne closed his eyes and cursed under his breath before he stepped back from you, letting his hand fall from your cheek. Next time, he mouthed to you before turning around to Arthur.
"You better have a damn good reason-"
"We're packin' up camp. Locals are startin' to get suspicious of our location. Time to move on."
Thorne immediately turned serious. "Alright. We'll come back now."
You watched Arthur turn his horse around and leave while you and Thorne got onto his horse and followed after him.
"How'd he find you?" you asked.
"He showed me this place first," Thorne replied. "He wanted to show it to you, but I got to ya first." He looked back at you and winked before turning away.
You chewed on that bit of knowledge all the way back to camp.
***
On the road once more, you stayed with the women in their wagon on the journey. When you reached the new area, you helped to set up camp, and after finding yourself alone with Tilly, you told her about both incidents. She laughed and confirmed that yes, they were both after you now. While you were a bit overwhelmed by the revelation, it helped that Tilly had known both of them for almost five years now.
“I’m just glad it’s you,” she said when you had asked if the Morgan twins had ever gone after the same woman before you. “There was another woman before you… she was just using them against each other to get them to buy her things or do favors for her. Useless hussy,” she spat.
“Oh,” you said, unable to think of anything to say.
“That’s all in the past,” Tilly said, changing subjects. “What’re you goin’ to do about the two of’em?”
You shook your head and stared up at the sky. “I don’t know. What can I do? I honestly don’t know if I could choose one over the other, I like them both.”
When Tilly was silent, you looked over at her. Her smile was feline-like, shrewd and calculating.
“Wha… why are you looking at me like that?”
She tittered. “Oh, nothing.”
“No, no, you tell me!”
Tilly let out a belly laugh, filled with pure joy. “I ain’t sayin’ a word!” She quickly got up and scampered out of your reach as you tried to pull her back. “I got to cook now! Good luck with them!” she shouted over her shoulder as she ran to Pearson’s cooking tent.
“That was a terrible excuse!” you yelled back at her, a smile on your face.
------------------------
Chapter 2
#arthur morgan#thorne morgan#morgan twins au#rdr2 fanfic#rdr2#writing#fanfic#nsft#lemon fanfic#tumblr gift
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Midnight at the Pick n’ Save
Billy Hargrove x Reader
Word Count: 5,491
Warnings: underage drinking, swearing, police mention (is that weird?)
Author’s note: Is this any good? I don’t know but I like it. Lemme know if it sucks though, I’ll make a note.
Tag List: @hotstuffhargrove @carolimedanvers @casaharrington @thechickvic @alex--awesome--22 @lilmissperfectlyimperfect @hipsmcgee @ashescilev @so-not-hotmess @balladblood
There wasn’t much to do in Hawkins on weekends, especially during summer break. You could spend the day at the mall, go the pool or the movies, maybe drive out of town to the lake. The fourth of July carnival was the biggest thing the town could look forward to. Maybe someone would throw a party if their parents went out of town or someone’s older brother would buy them a keg from a couple towns over, which would get hoisted into the forest to party out there. That was the extent of excitement the town could muster.
And so, if you had a car and a few friends, cruising was an optimal night time activity. With your music turned up on the stereo and your windows pulled down, the wind whipping your hair around you and your friend’s hair, you could look over your tiny town without much care, laughing and talking with your friends. It was a simple thing, but on a good night it was fun. You could find out a lot from driving around. You always found somebody out at night, and they could tell you about a party a town over or a rumour freshly founded or even just where some cooler people were hanging out.
That Saturday, you’d planned to go cruising with your friends. It was careful procedure. You had to do your makeup and your hair and choose clothes that, when combined, made you look effortlessly cool and hot while still be casual. It was Stacy’s turn to drive, so you had all evening to prepare yourself. Now, this wasn’t exactly an intense procedure, it wasn’t prom or anything. There was no intense grooming pattern. You took down your ratty perm from the low ponytail you’d had it in all day and fluffed it up a bit. You touched up your makeup from earlier in the day, choosing a purple lip gloss, just for fun. You changed into your favourite jeans and a clean, sweat free tee shirt. You grabbed your jean jacket, even though it was probably unnecessary for the humid night. You were last on the pickup list, living on the more diverse side of the town. That wasn’t a problem though, since Stacy would force Tina and Heather to sit in the very back since it wouldn’t be ideal to shove your ass in the backseat while someone else begrudgingly held the front seat.
The sound of Stacy’s horn blaring through your open window signalled your rush downstairs, pulling your purse off the railing, shoving your feet into your shoes, and rushing out the door before your mother could even say goodbye.
Stacy had the windows rolled all the way down and the roof down on her mother’s cherry red convertible. Tina and Heather were lounging in the back, the latter who was pouting dramatically in the far right seat, behind the driver. You popped open the door and slid inside.
“What’s the plan, girls? Anything happening?” you asked with a giddy grin, slamming the door behind you.
“Haven’t heard anything yet but there’s hope. According to Macy, Andy Withers’ parents are out of town. He’ll probably have a few friends over, which’ll turn into something to check out.” Tina explained from the back, tossing her right arm over the back of the white leather seat.
“I don’t care where we go, as long as I get five minutes alone with Billy. Gimme five minutes and he’s mine.” Heather added from her own seat.
“You’re still into that guy?” You asked, turning to Stacy who rolled her eyes and nodded. Heather had been into the new guy since she started working with him at the public pool. She’d spent the whole school year scoffing at his attempts to charm anything with tits, herself included. But the second she started spending her afternoons with him shirtless and sweaty, all bets were off. Heather had fallen lusty head over lusty heels for the guy. And Billy Hargrove didn’t give a rat’s ass about her. He didn’t give her the time of day, he barely acknowledged her outside of work. But whatever he was doing at work was enough for her to embarrass herself over him consistently.
Asking anything about Billy was a bad idea. You had just made a fatal error.
“Uh, obviously Y/N, I mean have you seen the guy?” Heather asked dramatically.
“Yeah I have I-” it didn’t matter what you said; Heather was going to talk over you. Like right now.
“He’s soooo fucking hot! I mean his abs and his arms and his cute little butt and his fucking smile? Have you seen his smile? I swear that man was crafted by the devil himself! God, what I wouldn’t give for just a piece of him, just a night! With him breathing in my ear and grunting in his gravelly voice oh my god! I could die and go to heaven right now!” Heather rambled, her head falling onto the back seat, long brown hair blowing up in the wind and heavily made up eyes squeezed tight, a giddy smile scrunching up her face.
You looked to Stacy, whose face had pulled into a grimace. “Ugh, Heather, can you reign in your hormones, the whole car’s gonna stink like fish if you keep this up.” She groaned, causing Tina grimace herself.
“Ew, Stace, do you have to be so nasty?” she cried, sliding his lime green tinted sunglasses up onto the top of her head. Heather reached up and smacked Stacy upside the head.
“Hey! No hitting the driver! Do you want me to crash this thing?!?” Stacy yelled, whipping around to sneer at Heather, who was giggling evilly from her seat, hands coming up to cover her mouth.
“Hey, no fighting you two.” You turned to Heather “We’ll keep an eye out for Hargrove and” you turned back to the front of the car “Tina will keep her out of your hair.” Heather gasped and Tina groaned, both utterly defeated and annoyed judging by their expressions in the rear view mirror.
Hawkins wasn’t exactly lively, but at night everything had a certain charm. When everything was a bit quieter and the lightening bugs were out, the stars flashing above you and the warm glow of the streetlights guiding your weaving way through town, you could almost call the tiny town beautiful. You shut your eyes, leaning your head against the back of your seat, letting the warm air brush your face and pull your hair into the air. It was a beautiful night, you almost didn’t want to find anything to do, this was sufficient for you.
Of course, when you’re least interesting in it, something decided to go down.
Stacy pulled up to the intersection on Main Street and the loud screams and clatter of another car full of teenagers pulled up next to yours. You peaked over, your eyes catching the annoyed look of Steve Harrington. His car was filled with the awful mix of Carol, Tommy H, Macy Clarke, and Mikey Wilson, all clambering to be the most annoying couple in the car.
“What’s happening?” Stacy called with a giggle, waving to Macy, who’d abandoned your little group to pal around with Mikey months ago. You secretly suspected he’d knock her up, since his dislike of condoms was known throughout the school and he’d knocked up two other girls. The big ‘A’ was a staple of being in any sort of relationship with that guy, even being his lab partner could end up with a girl at the clinic in Carmel, wondering how Mikey had gotten the money for the procedure. For now, Macy seemed happy, but you wondered how long it would last.
“Andy Withers’ brother bought him a keg! Apparently Billy’s gonna beat his keg record and anyone who challenges him! Free beer and Andy’s brother’s got his plug in, weed too!” Carol called, unlatching her lips from Tommy’s neck long enough to explain the night’s excitement.
“Harrington’s gonna beat that fucker’s record!” Mikey called, slapping the beleaguered driver’s shoulder. Steve winced, although you suspected it wasn’t from the smack Mikey had given him.
You had, unintentionally, been his first rebound after his disastrous breakup with Nancy Wheeler, an intense and intensely awkward few weeks of dating that ended with him dumping you to chase after Stacy for the rest of the year. You had taken a chance on the heartbroken kid, who in turn promised not to hurt you. And then he went around and made you hate him in one swift move. You could’ve killed the kid, luckily Stacy shoved him off at every advance and assured you that he wasn’t worth the effort.
The glare you were shooting him could’ve killed a man. It should’ve killed him. You suspected it slowly was.
“See you guys there!” Stacy called as the light turned green and Steve shot off like a bullet. Stacy was quick to follow, much to the rest of the car’s delight. You weren’t super excited to be heading to some shitty party that the cops would break up in an hour. Heather would find her way to the front of the crowd to watch Hargrove sweat and drool all over the keg and then waste beer to assert his masculinity, and then like clockwork, he’d ignore her and she’d spend the rest of the night whining about it. Stacy and Tina would find some guys to glom onto and you’d be left in the corner, nursing a beer, stuck at that dumb party until the cops showed, and then you drive your drunk friends’ home.
What a great night.
Even worse, stupid Andy Withers lived like, five minutes from where you were, so you didn’t even have time to convince your dumb friends to turn back. Stacy parked a bit down the road, for the safety of her mother’s expensive car, and you began the short trek to his house, following the blasting music.
“Alright ladies, let’s split up and find some fun, we meet at the car when the cops come, anyone not there gets left behind. Y/N has the keys.” Stacy handed you the keys by their lucky rabbit’s foot keychain and you pocketed them. Stacy’s tight denim skirt had no pockets and the others weren’t trusted to drive stick shift.
Stacy and Tina paired off, probably spotting the Gardner twins, Zach and Matt, who they’d been desperate to get with all year, something about wanting to compare and see if they truly were identical. Heather rushed out to the backyard, to find the keg and hopefully Billy.
For some reason, you decided to follow Heather. Something about that scene sounded more intriguing than sitting in the living room, watching people dry hump. Watching Hargrove kick Harrington’s ass at something would be pretty fun.
Except, when you got outside, Harrington was in the air and people were screaming. “Come on buddy, you’ve almost got him!” you heard Tommy H scream, holding up half of his body. You furrowed your brow, finding Heather in the crowd and taking up the spot next to her. Steve tapped out a few seconds later, right as the crowd cheered wildly. He must have beat Billy’s record, not that you knew what it was.
“You tied him man, you didn’t beat him.” Mikey said as Steve’s feet hit the ground. Steve nodded, breathing hard as he stepped back, gesturing to Billy to take the place in front of the keg.
“Come on Hargrove you can beat him.” Tommy cried, pushing Billy into position. The ladies of the crowd cheered wildly and, with a shrug, Billy slapped the keg and Tommy and Mikey lifted Billy up by his ankles. The crowd started counting out the seconds as he lasted thirty, forty, fifty seconds, then a minute. According to Heather, to beat the record he still had another forty seconds to go to meet the record. And by the looks of him, Billy was already giving in.
“Come on Hargrove!” you screamed, turning everyone’s attention on to you, including Billy, who made a noise of confusion. You found his eyes as he lifted his head slightly. You mouthed ‘drink up bitch’ at him, giving a small nod.
“Thirty-eight, thirty-nine, one forty! Forty-one, forty-two, forty-three, forty-four, forty-five-” the crowd called. Billy slapped the can and Tommy and Mikey dropped him. He spit out a massive mouthful of cheap beer, slapping his chest as the crowd cheered. Steve slinked away and Heather ran to congratulate him. You took that as your cue to wander back inside. You shoved your hands in your pockets, starting your quest for the singular drink you were gonna be able to have since you were going to have to drive the whole team home. Winding your way into the kitchen and into the fridge, you found a can of diet Tab, not exactly your poison but it would to the trick to keep you occupied while you waited for the cops to show. You grabbed a red plastic cup and poured the drink in, pausing as it fizzed to hold the cup over the sink and then tossing the can away, heading back into living room to watch the scene go down. Someone was blasting Prince in the room and its rug had turned into a dance floor for horny teens. You watched the crowds grind and rock against one another with a bored expression, crossing your arms over your chest, taking occasional sips from your plastic cup, trying not to cringe at the awful taste.
“Who left you all alone over here?” a husky voice breathed in your ear. You leaned back, snapping your head around to meet the eye of Billy Hargrove. He was looking you over with this look-you couldn’t explain it. His eyes were on fire and his tongue had lapped out of his mouth, running over his lower lip. He looked at you as though you were the coldest drink in the hottest desert and he was about to lap you up.
It made your stomach turn.
“Nobody leaves me anywhere. I chose to be here.” You huffed, turning your attention back to the crowd in front of you. You found Tina and Stacy, who had indeed found The Gardner twins and had somehow gotten them to dance. Well, to stand there while the two grinded into them as the twins grinned like fools down at them.
“Is that right?” Billy grinned, leaning into the space you’d made between you.
“That’s right.” You replied. Stacy caught your eye and pulled away from whichever Gardner twin she’d chosen, saying something to him before bounding over to you.
“Hey, so me and Tina are gonna leave with Zach and Matty, can you make sure Heather gets home alright?” she asked, bouncing in her white New Balance’s.
“Heather can handle herself; I’ll tell her what’s happening. She’ll get home alright.” You reached into your pocket, pulling out the keys “Here, get those guys outta here before the cops bust this shit.” You said, jingling the keys in front of her face. Stacy grabbed the keys with a cheeky grin, nodding before rushing off towards the boys and Tina.
As if on cue, Andy Withers busted into the living room, screaming at the top of his lungs as someone cut out the music “The cops are coming!”
Everyone ran in different directions. Tina and Stacy grabbed the twins and busted out the back door through the kitchen, abandoning you and Heather as expected. You’d lost Heather after going inside and away from the keg, so the only hope of finding her was to get outside and hopefully meet her somewhere by the car.
“Well, good luck!” you said quickly, nodding to Billy before making a break for it, rushing the back door and hopping the fence. You cut between the houses and onto the sidewalk as the police van, sirens blaring, pulled up in front of the house and two annoyed looking cops climbed out. You caught sight of the bearded Officer Hopper, who you were already in shit with. You rushed off towards the red convertible, looking around frantically for Heather.
But Heather wasn’t here. Tina and Stacy rushed to the car. “Don’t be a drag, Y/N.” Tina whined, shoving you out of the way as they got in. You could’ve killed her. She was such a bitch sometimes. You found your balance again, making a break down the sidewalk, running as fast as you could.
The rumble of an engine pulling up to you startled you and you turned to see the blue Camaro and Billy Hargrove waving you over. “Get in, Y/N!” he called. You weren’t going to argue with fucking Hopper on your path and a yearlong grounding in store when your mother found out where you were. You got in without question. Billy sped off before you could even pretend to put on a seatbelt, heading as far away from the scene as possible.
“You know my name?” you blurted over the wind rushing through the open windows. You could’ve jumped out of the moving car right then and there. He looked at you like you were crazy.
“Yeah, course I do.” He replied simply.
You hadn’t realized that he had even noticed you before that night. Stacy, Tina, and Heather stole the spotlight most of the time. Stacy was the pretty popular one who boys adored, Tina always threw the year’s biggest rager, and Heather knew everything about everyone. You were just…their plus one most of the time. Sure, you brought the music and the quippy jokes, you held the sleepovers during the summers off and bought the ice cream when someone got dumped, but you weren’t the focus to outsiders. Your friends adored you, but the rest of Hawkins? They tended to forget that you existed. Even your parents forgot about you.
Billy dropped his speed significantly once you were away from the party, which was a bit of a disappointment to you. You’d just started to enjoy the ride. He seemed to be looking for something. You assumed it was a place to drop you off.
“You can just drop me at the Pick n’ Save.” You said softly, pointing out the spinning sign, illuminated under a dozen streetlamps. Billy grunted, pulling into the parking lot. You climbed out, mumbling a quick thank you, and made your way over to the curb. You expected him to speed off again, but he didn’t. Instead he watched you for a moment before parking his car and stepping out.
“What are you doing?” he asked incredulously.
You shrugged “Whenever we go to these stupid parties, it’s our rule that if we get separated we meet here. I never found Heather, so I have to wait to see if she shows up here.” You explained, taking a seat on the cold cement curb.
“What happens when she doesn’t show?”
“Then I go home. Heather’s a big girl, but if I don’t wait she’ll never let me here the end of it.” you replied, letting out a deep sigh through your nose.
Billy nodded, pulling his pack of cigarettes from the breast pocket of his red silk shirt, mostly unbuttoned and its short sleeves rolled up even higher. He pulled one from the pack and lit it, offer you one. You took it, even though you only smoked at parties, and lit it off the end of Billy’s, tagging a long drag.
“Safety only matters when I’m not there waiting…” you muttered on the exhale.
“You just gonna sit here, on the cold ass ground, waiting for someone who might show up?” Billy asked. You nodded. He nodded back dumbly, turning and heading to his car. You assumed he was leaving, but he pushing himself onto the hood of his car and slapped the spot next to him, motioning you over. You did as he asked, because you didn’t want a standoff to ensue with him.
“You don’t have to wait here with me.” You said, standing in front of him, crossing your arms over your chest.
“I’m not gonna leave you here alone. Don’t need shit on my conscious if you get hurt.” He replied, smacking the spot again. You pushed yourself onto the hood, pulling your knees up to your chest and wrapping your arms around them.
“So…what’s up with Tina and Stacy?” Billy asked.
“Huh?”
“The Gardner twins?” his voice was full of disgust. It made you laugh a little bit. His reaction wasn’t exactly far off: the twins were some of the worst people in Hawkins. They were crude and cruel, insensitive and just plain stupid.
“Oh I don’t know…they’ve had this thing about them since Tina’s Halloween thing…they want to know how identical, identical twins are. The Gardner’s are the only identical twins who fit their standards: boys and our age.” You explained, focusing on the moths hovering around the lights outside the building.
“Jesus…that’s fucking stupid.” Billy muttered, looking over to you. You looked so wide eyed and a little scared, it was cute.
“At least it’s a goal. And they achieved it. Better than some people...” You shrugged, turning to meet Billy’s eye. He looked embarrassed and turned away quickly. You turned away too, out of principle.
“What about Heather?” he asked.
“What do you mean what about Heather?” you countered, furrowing your brow.
“What’s her deal?” he replied.
“How do you not know?” Billy shrugged. “She’s been chasing after you all summer.”
Billy scowled “Oh yeah, I know about that. But why? She already got Harrington, isn’t that enough?”
“What?”
“You didn’t hear? After Harrington got dumped, he dated some girl for a bit, and then Heather jumped in. They got caught doing it in the locker room. Then he moved on to Tracey Knowles.” He told you.
You didn’t know what to say. Heather didn’t. She knew. She didn’t even really like him. She wouldn’t do that to you…
She totally would.
“That bitch…” you muttered to yourself.
“Huh?”
“I was the first girl. I was dating Steve after he got his ass dumped. And Heather fucked him. She fucked him for no fucking reason. I could kill her.” You cried, smacking the hood of his car violently.
Billy let out a low whistle “Wow…what a bitch…”
You nodded “Always has been.” Then, something dawned on you. “And now, she wants a full set. Why only have boned one of the most popular guys in school when you can have both?” you bit bitterly.
“You think?”
“I know. She’s a collector, just like Tina and Stacy. Just another notch on her lipstick case.” You replied.
“Damn…” he muttered. He almost looked offended, which was not your intended goal, but it was certainly shocking. Billy Hargrove never showed any emotions other than anger, annoyance, or vague amusement. He wasn’t shocked or hurt by anything. You guessed, that was until now.
“I mean…it’s a genuine want. If I have to hear about how hot you are one more time I’m gonna kill the girl.” You chuckled awkwardly, rubbing your covered arms as if you were cold.
“Yeah I don’t like her.” Billy said coldly.
“Oh.” You replied “Well then never mind.” You knocked the ash off the end of your cigarette, taking one final drag before dropping the butt off the side of the car, to burn out on the pavement.
“I’m not part of a matching set.” He added, equally bitter as before.
“I get it. Sorry I brought it up.” You replied defensibly.
You both went silent for a moment as Billy cooled down again. He spoke first. Maybe you were too quiet for him.
“It was a cool party, though, right up until the feds showed up. Andy knows how to throw a good party.” Billy commented into the dead air. You looked at him, completely bemused for a moment, unsure as to whether or not he’d truly fed into his ego or if he just didn’t know.
“Andy Withers parties suck.” You replied, eying him over to try to figure out how drunk he was. He looked distressingly sober.
“On what planet?!? Everybody was there!” Billy countered with a laugh.
“Everyone was there because you were there. If you weren’t nobody would go except for a crowd of wannabes. They always get shut down so fast that they aren’t worth getting caught for.” You explained with a smirk.
“Yeah?” Billy said with a growing look of satisfaction.
“Yeah.”
Billy grinned, leaning back onto his windshield. “That’s the best news I’ve heard all day.” He said, pulling a second cigarette out of the pack, tossing the butt he’d been holding between his teeth at the farthest streetlight. “I mean that’s almost the teen dream.”
“What’s missing?” you asked, looking down at him. You’d let go of your legs, letting them dangle over the hood and you leaned back on your palms, stretching your back.
“The girl.” He smirked, looking you over with the girl.
“Oh yeah? Who’s your dream girl? And don’t pull any of that shit where you try to get me to sleep with you by saying it’s me. That won’t happen.” You asked, lulling your head to the side to look him over.
“Lemme think then.” He said, leaving a massive pause as his face pulled into a firm line, squinting his eyes as though the process was taking some serious effort. It probably was: Billy had slept a majority of the population in Hawkins, it was even rumoured that he was sleeping with someone’s mom, although nobody could decide who it was.
“Samantha Baker.” He finally said quietly.
“Who?” you asked, thinking it over thoroughly. There was only one Samantha in your grade, Samantha White, who was the only punk left at Hawkins High. But the name sounded so familiar to you, you couldn’t place it at first.
And then it hit you like a freight train.
“Wait. Like Molly Ringwald’s character in 16 candles?!?” you cried, eyes going wide as the full moon hanging above you. Billy nodded far too confidently for what he had admitted and you couldn’t help from laughing your ass off.
His dream girl wasn’t a porn star or a rock star or even a Playboy bunny. It was sixteen year old Molly Ringwald. It didn’t make sense to you at all.
“Seriously? Why?” you asked, utterly shocked.
Billy shrugged, his confidence draining significantly. “I don’t really know I just…she really digs that guy, Jack or whatever, I like a girl who really likes me.” He said.
That made too much sense.
Your smile turned to a knowing smirk. “So, you like a girl who has no other personality or interests other than you?”
Billy’s expression soured “You don’t get it.” he mumbled.
“When did you even see that movie?”
His body curled away from you, suddenly turning very shy, which was not an expected bit of behaviour from the macho tough guy of Hawkins. “I took in a double feature at the Hawke with Carol.”
That didn’t make sense.
“When did you go out with Carol? Her and Tommy are the item of Hawkins High, they only break up once a semester-” then it hit you.
“Was it when Tommy had mono? Or when they broke up because Carol found out who he got mono from?” you asked. You felt like you were on Jeopardy, about win the Daily Double, excitement coursed through your veins.
Billy held up two fingers, signally that the second answer was correct. He cleared his throat before explaining himself “Tommy promised to take her and then they broke up and she was moping around so I said I would take her if we saw something I wanted to see too…”
“So you willing took Carol to see a romantic comedy?”
Billy nodded. You were very surprised. This was a very new side of Billy that you would have never in a million years expected to find underneath the sneering asshole who sped around town.
“Well aren’t you a sweetheart?” you laughed as Billy pulled a pouty, embarrassed and annoyed look.
“Don’t go spreading it around, I have a reputation to uphold.” He puffed out his chest with pride.
“Yeah sure.” You giggled, crossing an ‘x’ over your heart and holding up your right hand, a silent and solemn swear to not tell anyone.
“What about you? Who’s your dream guy?” he asked, pushing himself up onto one elbow, looking you over the same way you did to him.
“Oh I don’t know…I don’t really have one. I mean every girl likes Jake Ryan… I guess him.” You replied. You honestly didn’t have an answer. Heather’s latest dream guy was Bender from The Breakfast Club, Tina liked Tom Cruise, and Stacy weirdly adored Jay Gatsby. But you never really had a definitive answer. Jake Ryan was the closest thing you had.
“Who?”
“The guy from 16 Candles, you called him Jack.”
“Why him?” Billy scrunched up his face in disgust.
“Hm…because…well he’s hot for one thing.” Billy rolled his eyes at that comment, but you continued anyway “And because he really wants to be loved. He sees Samantha and, even though he knows almost nothing about her, he likes her. I guess I like him because he will see you when nobody else does.” You explained, more to yourself than to him.
Billy nodded and you believed, for the first time in the whole conversation, that he was actually listening. “So, you want a guy who does the bare minimum?” He replied coldly.
“Better than what I get from most guys. I’m usually forgotten in favour of Tina or Stacy.” That sounded more pathetic than you wanted to, but you didn’t try to take it back.
Billy let your words hang in the air, unsure of what to do with them. That was a bit too heavy for him to tackle, he didn’t know how. He’d be lying if he said he’d noticed you before tonight. But you caught his eye at the party and he intended to hold onto you for awhile longer, even if all he had was your attention and nothing else.
You chuckled to yourself, a thought coming to your mind “You know…if you want a girl to adore you and nothing else…Heather is that.” Billy looked to you with a scowl. You pressed on “She loses her personality with whatever guy she’s going with and assimilates to what they like. She’s like a chameleon or something. It’s really weird.”
“That makes Harrington Ryan or whatever.” Billy countered, leaning in closer with a cocky smirk that you found more charming than discomforting.
“Any reasoning beyond you trying to piss me off?” you asked, matching his expression.
“He wants exactly what that guy wanted. A serious relationship or whatever. The guy acts like he wants casual shit now, but everyone knows that he’s looking for a girl like his ex to settle down with.” He explained vaguely, gesturing off into the distance. “He’s like that guy but clueless.”
You scrunched up your mouth, humming an annoyed tune. “That’s…distressingly accurate.” You admitted, sighing softly “Maybe I don’t know what I want…”
“I know what I want.” Billy said.
“Yeah?” you asked, watching the lightening bugs begin to swirl around the car. You hadn’t noticed how dark it had gotten and how late it must have been. You’d definitely missed your curfew. But being grounded didn’t really matter to you now.
“I wanna kiss you.” You hadn’t realized how close he was until his hot breath fanned your neck once again.
You giggled softly “I’m not gonna hook up with you, Hargrove, I don’t even know you.”
“I didn’t ask for that…all I asked for was a kiss…” he was looking down at you through his lashes and his eyes were so blue. “All I want is a kiss…” And when he leaned down to kiss you, you didn’t pull away. Maybe you were bored or lonely or simply horny, maybe you were mad at Heather for treating you like shit, or maybe it was because Billy Hargrove was quite possibly the prettiest boy you’d ever met, but the kiss was the best you’d had thus far. You didn’t believe in the whole electricity, fireworks thing everybody else seemed to feel from kissing someone. But this was damn close. You didn’t want it to end. Neither of you did.
“Y/N you fucking bitch! I can’t believe you!” the shrill scream made you pull away.
Heather made it after all.
“Oh go screw Harrington again.” You yelled back, rolling your eyes at her stunned and angry face. You pulled Billy back in for another kiss with a smirk, which he didn’t pull away from.
Sure, it was petty. But being petty with Billy’s lips attached to yours didn’t feel too bad.
#stranger things#stranger things 2#st#billy hargrove#billy hargove x reader#billy x reader#billy x y#billy hargrove x reader#billy hargrove x you#billy hargrove fic#billy hargrove fanfiction#billy hargrove fluff#billy hargrove headcanon#billy hargrove hc#billy hargrove x y/n#billy x y/n#billy hargrove imagine#billy hargrove imagines#billy hargrove headcanons#billy hargrove aus#billy hargrove au#stranger things 3#stranger things au#stranger things imagine#stranger things fanfiction
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As I quickly scramble through my backpack, I ask myself what the heck I'm doing. Going out with Min-Hyuk for a pikamon-chase? With their app? In real-life?
AT NIGHT?
This must be a joke.
"Yo, Shin-Ae, you ready?"
Even though I'm doubting this, I immediately act confident: "You bet boi!" With hearing these words, he grins at me. "Alright. We'll destroy the others' arenas and get dem Wizardcarps to finally get the 350 tokens for you!"
All of a sudden, I feel energetic. With the summer nights, I finally got myself more time after having dealt with this year of high school.
"My Giantboss will be better than yours." "Tch, sure it will", Min-Hyuk winks at me. Getting cocky, huh?? "Oh, just you watch."
And he did, after I had caught my last pikamon necessary in an alleyway.
"YO BOI", I exclaim, "I GOT IT!" Honestly, I wouldn't have thought that I would be that much into the game once we have started the nightly raid. We should definitely do this more often. “Girl, this better be better than my pika right there!”, Min-Hyuk shouts in excitement, well aware that this will be a big change for all the pikamons I gathered. Sometimes, I really appreciate how supportive he is, and I see it then and there again. “Let’s do this”, I mutter absently, completely absorbed with evolving my Wizardcarp. And as I finally send out my last, and click on the evolve button, I suddenly see a message pop up.
And as I see the name of the sender, my stomach drops. “Min-Hyuk?” Suddenly, my happiness about that new pikamon in my deck is not as overwhelming as I have thought just seconds ago. Looking up at Min-Hyuk, I already see his worrying gaze fixated on me. “Do you want to?” I just stare back. To be honest, I’m just overwhelmed with this situation.
The breath I let out is shaky too.
Yeong-Gi/Nol: Can we meet up soon?
For a minute, I just look back, trying to calm down. It’s been a while since we even talked or chatted at all. After he said that he would want to avoid me, I was left betrayed. Luckily, Min-Hyuk came over for a visit then. This dude saved my ass several times now. Hearing Min-Hyuk’s understanding words - that it’s fine if not, that he can come with, that he’s always going to be there if I’d need anyone - I just type a response.
Shin-Ae: Where?
As he responds, my heart sinks. Somehow, the vibe I just received from his messages makes my throat close up. “Lemme get you there. It’s dark and I don’t want you to be alone.”
I just let out a quick thanks before hugging the best friend I could have. Then, we both get going to WacDonald’s.
Throughout the journey, Min-Hyuk has put an arm around me and casually plays pikamon jog as if there was nothing to face for me. Of course, I get it - he doesn’t want to butt in or bother me too much, and it kind of calms me that he doesn’t make it too big of a deal. “Don’t expect that I won’t smack this guy’s ass for hurting you though. I mean, he kinda was your crush.” “Say that again and I will whoop yours”, I quickly growl, but I know that he has a point. “That dude was hurting you girl. Like, I respect your decision but honestly, that dude’s a jerk for pulling that at least”, he quickly elaborates and I notice that he’s trying to really understand my point of view. I let out a sigh.
“I know. I’ll deal with it. I trust you to be around this time though!” “You can count on it”, he responds, reply as ready as a pistol shot.
“Alright.”
We go through the usual way to the fried chicken and burger joint I used to work at. Usually, I would think of my manager that really helped me figure out what to do during the hard time I had with working, school and my friends. But now, I can’t help but feel extremely nervous. “Should I stay with you when you talk?”
In the last few months, I have experienced what it’s like to be insecure and unsure. But I really, really hate that feeling still. “No. It’s fine, and I think we need to discuss things together.” “Alright. I’ll get ourselves stuff from Wac then.” “What the heck. This late?” “Absolutely. What do you want? On me!”, he chirps with a smile, already awaiting his meal. “... A Bigwac menue please. With chicken.” “‘kay. Text me if you guys are do-”
His gaze is stuck on something behind me. When I turn around, I realize that his brown eyes were stuck on someone instead. “Hey.”
Yeong-Gi seems to be just as overwhelmed as I am. “Hi”, I just reply and I hear Min-Hyuk saying confidently: “Alright, be right back. You better not hurt her again.” Seeing him throw a dark glance at the redhead, said redhead just looks at him apologetically. “See you.” he gives me a last look - one that makes me feel protected and loved - and goes away.
And leaves me alone with Yeong-Gi.
"What did you want to talk about?", I quickly cut to the chase. After what he has done to cut out our friendship, I don’t want to create further unpleasantries for either of us.
His hair is dishelved and his pants and white t-shirt look hastily put on. But his look shows me so much sternness, regret, and assuredness, as if he's been thinking long and hard about what he's about to do.
Man. I hate how my heartbeat betrays me in these moments. "I wanted to check if you're doing okay", Yeong-Gi replies equally serious, having my eyebrows furrow and my jaw drop slightly.
"Dude wtf? You said just two weeks ago that you don't wanna talk anymore. And now you come back, asking me if I'm okay?", I just retort. I just hope that I don't sound too hysterical but sometimes, reality teaches me not to dream.
But just as before, he just stares at me and takes a few steps towards me. “Yeah. I know I made myself clear-” All of a sudden, hurt flashes in his eyes. It’s short but I see it. All this time, I really have tried figuring this young man in front of me out but… He’s been making it really hard and knows how to avoid me constantly, even after I called him out.
This makes me feel more unusual with all that heartbeat going on, so I just reciprocate his stare into my eyes as he speaks. “But I just can’t seem to forget what we’ve been through together and… Ugh, whatever.” His unstable grin on his face, his closed eyes… He really doesn’t like talking about his feelings, does he? “Yeong-Gi?”, I quickly snap him back to reality as I step closer. “What’s up?” His eyes, this time more confused.
Why am I like this with him? “It’s just… I would feel bad not being around you, you know? I wanna make sure you’re alright after stuff that has happened.” His direct stare at me shows me honesty that leaves me shaking. I knew that I wouldn’t ever deserve him as a friend - let alone someone I’d care more about.
That aside, I’m not into relationships anyway.
“I-” As he takes a step close, I suddenly realize the closeness our bodies have, and I wish I could treat it with as much ease as I used to. But now, I just smell his amazing scent, see his stupid brick body and his damn beautiful face. And I’m angry at myself for being so affected by it.
“I wanted to tell you some things before I might be gone, too”, he just says with a smile that looks sad and regretful.
Wait. Leave? Did he want to get rid of me before leaving so that it won’t… hurt as much?
It would be something he’d do.
It would certainly be something I’d do.
“Like what?”
I remember that he rarely talked about his future. College, work, et cetera were really never things the two of us would discuss together. What other secrets is he keeping from me. His hesitant face tells tales. “Yeong-Gi. I know that you don’t like sharing. But don’t you think that after… well, everything that happened, you can’t tell me what’s troubling you? I know you didn’t like when I testified to you with Yu Jing-” And indeed, I find him furrowing his eyebrows for a millisecond. “But I… You know, I wanted to help you. And I can’t say I don’t care anymore”, I just tell him straight away, adding “so pull that crap again and I’ll whoop your butt!” That stuff gets him to snort and smirk a little. For some reason, it relieves me enough to know that this is the Yeong-Gi I know and I can at least sense that something is up.
“I know.” Raising an eyebrow, I patiently wait for him to continue, however not forgetting what he said two weeks ago. “I will go overseas for a place to study. I’m sorry I haven’t told you.” As he looks down at our feet, I just can’t help but think that there’s something el- “And I think”, he takes in a deep breath and to my shock, I see a reddish blush appear on his cheeks. “I-” For some reason, he looks away and I just say: “Come on, spit it out!”
Immediately picking up eye contact again, he says “Alright.” His hair is lighted halfway from the lamp post we’re standing next to, his eyes intense when he says: “I think I have feelings for you.”
And with that, my brain has stopped functioning and I now lower my gaze down to our shoes. Keep it together, Shin-Ae. Don’t think about how his feet could stomp yours twice. What a sasquatch. “So after all this time… I have even told you that you have a girlf-”, I start to ramble but he cuts me off, gaze ever so stern: “Alyssa and I broke up.”
Wam.
You know this feeling, when everything suddenly drops on you? Why didn’t he tell me all of this earlier, or in portions? Why can’t I trust him with things? And why do I still feel like this with him?? “Nol?” “Yeah?”
All of a sudden, I realize how upset I am - I’m shivering and everything inside me blazes with anger. “So what you’ve done two weeks ago, ignoring me, was just to come and tell me all of this?! Out of nowehere?!”, I say, not giving a crap about his reaction and his face looks equally responsive. “I really tried keeping my word okay?! I really just wanted to leave and not have you miss me!”, he suddenly replies, also raising his voice until he abruptly silences himself. “But I couldn’t, okay? I couldn’t. I wanted to see if you were okay.”
All of a sudden, my heart strings seem to be pulled and I want nothing more than to kiss this guy. What the heck is going on with me? Why am I this emotional right now? “Who do you do this for, Yeong-Gi? For me, or for you?”
As look closely, I realize that this time, I can see freckles on his face including one or the other scar. Why the heck is he so handsome? His facial features are partly lighted by that lamp post, and I see his gaze carefully calculating me as I step towards him, even closer. But he doesn’t step back. Looking closely, I even see him shiver slightly.
Is this that difficult for him?
A long pause is lying upon the two of us, but I start to get worried and try to step back. Suddenly, however, I feel a hand of his grabbing my arm. Man is he strong, and as I notice that, I can’t help but quickly scan his quite toned body. “Wait.” His distant murmur sounds more like a plea than anything, and I immediately freeze in place.
“I’m doing this for both of us.” With that, he closes the distance again, surprising me. Looking at each other, I feel his breath fanning on my face. Goodness, are we close, and my heart beats fast. “Both?” I look at his lips. They look incredibly soft… What it would be like to-
But I have no way to think about it much, since he tells me: “Maybe I just need this, Shin-Ae. Please tell me to stop if I should.” I should say something. Really should. But I don’t say anything, and as his lips meet mine, for a small peck first. As we meet again, the kiss is far sweeter than I would’ve thought. Wow.
Yeong-Gi is a pretty good kisser.
(Extra scene)
Nol POV:
As I walk home, I quickly call Soushi, my buddy in emergency situations. “And, how did the talk with Shin-Ae go?!”, his voice hastily becomes audible. “Pretty good… I… guess…”, I just murmur, not knowing what the heck to do with this kiss, especially since I’d leave soon. Why the heck did I do that?!
“Also… Did that kiss tutorial video help?”
“Shut up!”, I just reply, not believing that Soushi has actually given him that video.
But to be honest, it was pretty good advice.
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|Trigger Finger|Mafia AU| M|JJK|
MOB/MAFIA AU/SMUT/HUMOR-ISH Underboss OC X Mob associate Jungkook
Kook’s already whipped and thirsty AFFFF
Jonnie’s in this a little..he’s her body guard as per usual...not that she needs one! So actually he’s her babysitter per Joon needs a damn raise!
**This is a one time flashback within the “Family Ties” Universe...which is a Taehyung centered Mafia series with BTS cameos...if you're new here! Jk is mentioned for the first time in part 3 BTW!!
It is referenced that Luxx (OC’s Nickname) and Kookie have hooked up in the past...this taps into that. As well as how he got his “job” within the alliance/training and blah blah blah ……
1.2k Sneak peek
Also the OC is from Boston....
“I’m just saying!!! Hook your boy up Jeon!!!!”
A snort leaving Jungkook’s lips as he refilled the vodka sprayer,eyes fluttering in the elders direction “Joey...I mean this in the least offensive way possible butttt...you need a certain...look for this whole “Sugar baby concept”.A cheeky little grin stretching across his lips as he patted Joey on the cheek fondly!
“If you're trying to tell me I need to get back on my gym,tan ,laundry then I have no issues with that! Especially if it will help me pull some bad-”
The sound of the back door creaking open halted all conversation, Joey instantly reaching for his gun, as the club wasn't even close to being open. More importantly the doors should have all been pad locked, all it took was the sound of your Louboutins to click along the marble for Joey put two and two together!
Only problem is... that actually made the situation worse, as you weren't one to do drops in so if you were here unannounced that means someone fucked up! Still for some reason none of this registered to Jungkook he’s only ever meet you maybe 5 times and it’s been years. Granted he obviously knew what was done behind closed doors, his actual job only went as far as the strip club was concerned.
After a few moments of observing Joey’s sudden shift in demor...it clicked... “Oh shit…” Gazing back at the latter wide eyed, smacking him in the shoulder lightly. “Wait..is that-” Before he could even ask the question you circled the corner, hips swaying, as your curls bounced behind you. The champagne colored bandage dress clung to every curve on your body, nothing even remotely subtel in the way Jungkkoks eyes traced every outline.
“In through your nose... out through your mouth….” Slipped past your glazed lips as nonchalant as could be...
“I’m sorry what?” Brows scrunched in blatant confusion earning a slight chuckle to rumble in your chest. As you glanced over at him through the tiniest sunglasses imaginable, so much so they were clearly for aesthetic purposes only. Your lashes alone damn near peaked higher than the frame itself… but they were Fenty so that justified it all!
“That’s how you breathe..seems as though you’ve forgotten how to do so...” Eyes slowly leaving his only to shuffle centimeters over, not missing the almost amused smirk that tugged on Jungkook's lips in response.Teeth Grazing his bottom lip as he admired the way you seamlessly transitioned between the two.
“Joeyyy!! Baby come ere! Give me hugs! “ Extending your arms in his direction as you sauntered to meet him halfway. It was almost comical how flabbergasted he was in response to your warm demeanor, you could damn near hear him exhale from a mile away. If you didn't already know he fucked up ...you deffiently did once you saw his face, the man looked like he saw a ghost, no matter how big the smile was that stretched across your face!
Slowly maneuvering around the counter, weapon still in hand “Really? What were you planning to do with that?Bust a cap in my ass or somethin’? Lemme see” Reaching out for the gun, still keeping it in his hand as, while his thumb rested along the magazine. Slowly bringing your index finger up to stroke the trigger..then next thing ya know…..
A noise only comparable to a shriek swept through his throat as he dropped to his knees, right in front of you...eyes searching your’s for a million in one questions he already knew all the answers too. The sudden change in atmosphere earned choked out gasp from Jungkook, who glanced back at you comply wide eyed. Not even sure how to process what the fuck just happened I mean you just asked for a hug 2 seconds ago damn!
Jungkook also found himself questioning why he was somewhat turned on by the sight of you, all dolled up with a 9 in hand...especially considering the fact that you just randomly shot his boss! But damn, if you didn't look good doing it!
“LUXXYY!!!’ You knew that Baritone anywhere…
“Oh my god Joeyyyyyyy!!” There was actually a hint of annoyance lacned within your tone, as if he ACTUALLY shot himself….
“ You just shot yourself in the arm why the hell would you do that ya dick! That looks painful, Namjoon this looks painful, doesn't this look painful?” Glancing over at him innocently, hand gesturing in Joey's direction.
A scoff leaving his lips as he held the bridge of his nose between his index and middle finger, clearly you’ve manged to already stress Namjoon all the way the fuck out! All it took was the two of you being in Vegas for all of 2 hours….
“I mean...it does look kinda sorta painful…” The younger spoke up with a slight snort, and you couldn't help but smirk back at him, cocking your head to the side slightly. Eyes narrowing in his direction.
“Hmm… smart kid...I like you..who the hell are you by the way…? “
“I’m..Kookie, or Jungkook whichever you prefer..” You could tell right away he was a cocky little shit,and for good reason. He was attractive, very actually, nice hair, tattoos..great teeth, you figured the red corvette outside was probably his.
He couldn't be older than 21 and made around 45k a year, and for most people his age who actually WORKED...that was impressive! But clearly not impressive enough for you to know who the hell he was and the look on your face said it clear as day. Which ripped an exaggerated sigh from Namjoon’s throat
“He’s Dom’s son Luxxy!!” you could already tell he was rolling his eyes…
“OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH….hmmm..” Eyes slowly trailing him from head to toe, somewhat impressed actually, it’s been years since you’d seen him. Jungkook didn't hesitate to return the gesture either. “Well “Dom’s son” head to the back...were about to have a little office meeting...oh also make me a drink...something fruity but I actually wanna taste my liquor…”
“White or dark?”
“Surprise me..”
“Yes ma'am” You could hear the smugness in his voice as he smiled back at you, not hesitating to do as you asked..or commanded I guess I should say.
Brow arched in amusement, a slight humm leaving your lips before slowly bringing your attention down to the man that was in front of you weeping on his knees . Yanking his head back by the nape of his neck, so he had no choice but to look you dead in the eyes.
“Oh my god Joey stop cryin’...I shot you in the arm, your lucky I didn't aim for your scrotum...actually speaking of....that brings me to why I’m actually here “ Pausing slightly while you let your fingers gently caressed the hair at the nape of his neck...the gesture polar opposite to the current situation at hand but ...you were known for that!
“First off...... you're bleeding out, all on my marble and that’s not cute... so Joonie’s gonna take you to the hospital.” Smiling fondly in his direction, Namjoon didn't hesitate to flip you off, not that you blamed him, brining your focus back to the man of the hour!
Yanking his head a little more until you heard a slight whimper leave his throat “And when they ask you what happened..tell them it was an accident...just like you accidentally managed to let my girls gargle cock on the clock!”
Ya know he actually had the nerve to look back at you surprised, he must've forgotten this place is wired up the ass “ Oh please! Save it..I’m not in the mood for a soap opera Joey, listen, I do enough extra curricular shit in this club on my own..”
Moving your hand down to cup his jaw, adding just enough pressure the the hinge to make him squirm “I’ll be damned if the reason I go to jail is because Barbie got caught letting some unhappy stock broker snort coke off her clit!” Abruptly releasing his jaw from your hands, jerking his head back slightly as you released your hold.
“Where’s my drink “Dom’s son!!!?””Echoed through the empty three story building only hearing a noise comparable to pain to leave namjoon’s throat…
“Oh fuck meee...this suits Armani, I really don’t feel like carrying your bitch ass Joey your already bleeding all over the damn place!”
“Is she- is she always that feisty???”” Kookie becked, eyes glued to the way your ass swayed from side to side as you walked away. Tongue teasing at the corner of his mouth.
“ALWAYS…” Slipped through clenched teeth, as Namjoon, leasurily made his way in Joey’s direction.
Only jungkook seemed a lot less..stressed out and a lot more intrigued by the concept…. That was his sassy,sexy and blatantly dominant boss...Jungkook liked having control but there was something about watching you TAKE control...that had his stomach flipping in 83788 directions!
THAT’S ALL SHE WROTE FOR NOW…
IF YOU LIKED IT..”LIKE IT” FULL THING WILL PROB BE BETWEEN 7-9K…..OHHH feel freee to send me some smut scenarios, I may try and work them in….
ALSO IF you are a “Family Ties “ reader..Luxx and Tae were NOWHERE near a thing at this point.
ONE SHOT PLOT
#jungkook#jungkook smut#junkook mafia#jungkook mafia au#bts#bts smut#bts mafia#bts mafia au#jeon jungkook smut#jeon jungkook#kpop smut#kpop mafia au#jungkook one shot#namjoon mafia au#namjoon
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Enjoy the Moment
(read on ao3)
Eddie didn’t have a plan.
He’d thought he’d had a plan.
In fact, he’d been damn set on that plan for the last week.
But, now that he was here? Yeah, he didn’t have a plan. And he was maybe, just maybe, starting to panic about that.
They were at Athena and Bobby’s house, celebrating the New Year (a week late, and long enough for everyone involved to dip in and out as shift’s allowed, ‘cause like hell any of them had the same evening off, let alone New Years), and everything was loud and warm and bright. Everyone was having a good time - happy laughter echoing across the yard every couple of moments, shouts of garbled conversation spurring on yet more laughter. There were kids running between the islands of adults, claiming the yard for themselves and having the times of their lives by the looks of things. For the adults, there was plenty of alcohol and friends and Eddie...Eddie honestly couldn’t remember the last time the lot of them had been this happy and bright.
Bobby and Athena were practically glowing - good hosts, happy in their comfort zone, entertaining and keeping order with terrifying skill. Hen and Karen were bouncing between corralling kids and diving in and out of conversations like the lovely whirlwinds they could be. Chimney was...actually, Eddie hadn’t seen Chimney in awhile.
He kind of wished Chimney had stolen Maddie along to wherever he’d disappeared to, because even though she seemed preoccupied talking with her coworker, who she’d introduced as Josh, she’d been shooting him looks all night - these heavy things that he could just about feel like an actual weight on his shoulders every single time. And, try as he might, he hadn’t been able to find a spot where she couldn’t see him.
And then there was Buck.
Bright, happy, lovely, painfully sweet Buck. He’d been bouncing between conversations most of the night, but without fail finding his way back to Eddie’s side consistently - even if it was just to steal a kiss or a drink, or to try and pull him into a conversation. Eddie felt kind of bad that he’d been more or less on the outs the entire night, but in his defense, he’d come in with a plan.
And then he’d taken one look at Buck after they’d finally made it to the back yard, golden hair lit up by the fairy lights strung across the back yard, eyes gleaming in the soft light, a smile directed back at him despite all their friends definitively in the other direction and Eddie had just...crumbled.
He’d had a plan.
He was going to wait for a quiet moment. Was going to steal Buck away from the crowd. Was going to drop to one knee - present the little box that had been weighing heavy in his thoughts and in his pockets for weeks now.
Was going to come back out, not just with Buck at his side, but with his fiance.
He’d had it all planned out. Had even gotten outside help with that plan.
He’d gone to talk to Maddie two weeks ago, right after the Christmas party, when Bobby and Athena had announced this party.
It hadn’t been that he’d wanted...permission or anything like that. But he’d definitely wanted...something. Some sort of validation, from the only other person who knew Buck so well. And apparently him too, because she’d opened the door, had taken one look at him, and just said Finally. Come in, let’s figure this out.
And yet, now, here he was. Sat at the picnic table, where he’d been sat for the last two hours, only vaguely flitting into any conversations that passed into his orbit and just as quickly going back to his own little world, keeping an eye on Buck and Chris, and definitively avoiding every look Maddie was giving him.
He knew she was just concerned at this point. But he couldn’t...he couldn’t even really explain what was going on to himself right now, let alone to someone else.
“So, you gonna tell me why you’ve been zoning out all night, or we gonna keep pretending everything’s fine?” Buck asks as he drops down on the bench next to him. He’s still smiling brilliantly, cheeks as red from the alcohol as they are from the laughter Eddie’s catching hearing snatches of, hair a fly away mess in a way it so rarely is. But there’s also a shine to his eyes that tells Eddie that as much fun as all of this is, they should probably be packing it in soon - Buck goes from excitable go go go very quickly to falling asleep against any available surface. Which, while endearing, can be a bit of a challenge when Eddie’s also trying to maneuver a half-asleep Chris like he will be tonight. Eddie’s pretty sure that as soon as that kid stops moving - running around where he is right now with Denny and Harry - he’s going to fall asleep.
“Hello? Earth to Diaz?” There’s a hand in front of his face, and Eddie blinks. Oh, right. Rolling his eyes, he catches Buck’s wrist with a huff, only to press a soft kiss into his palm to soothe the annoyance.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m here. And everything is fine.”
Buck doesn’t try to take his hand back at least, but he is eyeing Eddie with a raised eyebrow, clearly not believing a word. Eddie raises an eyebrow right back.
There’s a long, quiet moment, where they’re both just staring at each other, and, god, whatever hit him when they first showed up - whatever smacked him upside the heart and sent him spiralling - is threatening to do the same thing again now. Just looking at Buck, here and now, haloed in hazy light, with the people around them fading into white noise, and all Eddie wants to do right now…
Actually, there’s nothing stopping him is there?
He knows he’s grinning. Can see Buck trying not to grin back as Eddie tugs on the wrist he still has a hold on, intentions clear. Buck resists for all of a moment before folding into Eddie’s space, lips meeting in the soft breath between them - sweet and sparkling, and Eddie could stay right here, in this moment, forever.
But, of course, they can’t actually, because, one, this isn’t their house, and two - “Dad! Buck!” Chris calls, and since it doesn’t sound distressed, it might take him and Buck a moment to separate. And when they do, they may take another moment to smile goofily at each other. Chris just groans, and Buck laughs, pressing his face into Eddie’s shoulder to hide it while Eddie actually bothers to look over, “Yeah buddy?” he asks around his own laugh.
Chris tries to answer, but it’s broken by a truly impressive yawn, which is a pretty good answer in and of itself. Eddie hums softly, teasingly shoving Buck away so he can stand and head over to Chris, who doesn’t even hesitate before holding his arms up. He’s getting to the age where displays like that are reserved for when he’s about dead on his feet, and Eddie cherishes every single one. He scoops Chris up easily, laughing as Chris immediately flops against him, “Guess it’s time to head home, huh?” he asks, for form’s sake. Chris mutters something in agreement, and a quick look around shows most of the younger kids are in a similar state. Most of the adults are starting to lag too, even as several of them make valiant efforts to keep things going.
Buck pops up next to him a moment later, smiling softly, “Here, lemme take ‘im to the car. You say goodnight to everyone? You need some social interaction tonight.” And Eddie knows a fight he’s going to lose, so he hands Chris over without argument, even if he can’t quite help rolling his eyes. The kiss Buck presses to his cheek makes it a little better though.
It doesn’t take too long to make the rounds - having the excuse of a sleepy kid that needs to get to bed makes things incredibly easy sometimes, honestly. The only one that holds him up is Maddie, which...yeah, he expected that.
“Everything okay?” She asks, hushed, after pulling him off to the side under the guise of chatting real quick.
Eddie laughs softly, awkwardly - can practically feel his anxiety from earlier bleeding into it, and can’t help but wince. “Yeah just...moment didn’t seem right..." The anxiety was eating at his insides, and he was more frustrated that he couldn’t put a name to it than anything. He knew Buck would say yes. They’d talked about their future plenty - talked about all the twists and turns they thought they could predict, and about the ones they couldn’t. They’d talked about a future in which they were married, and settled, and watching Chris grow up, while they did the same together.
He knew Buck would say yes.
And yet...
“Mm..." She reaches up to squeeze his arm gently, taking him back out of his head, “Don’t psych yourself out, Eddie. Find your moment.” And with that, she squeezes his arm one more time before stepping back towards the slowly dwindling crowd.
Find his moment.
He could do that.
---
The drive home is quiet after that, Buck’s fingers curled with his on the center console while he other hand’s on the wheel, the only real light being the street lights flashing over them at regular intervals.
They’re both tired, Chris is knocked out in the back seat, and Eddie just feels so...content. His night hadn’t gone to plan, sure, but talking with Maddie had helped him settle. Settle back down enough to enjoy the quiet, enjoy the weight of Buck’s hand in his, and the surety of that hold.
At a stoplight, he curled their fingers together tighter, raising their clasped hands up to press a kiss to Buck’s knuckles, delighting in the sleepy smile it got him.
“You seem more relaxed than you’ve been all night.” Buck murmurs, half an observation, half a gentle question.
Eddie hums, turning back to the road as the light turns green. “Yeah, just...figured something out is all.”
“Mm...care to share?”
“Nah...not yet.”
And Buck...Buck accepts that. Because of course he does - lets Eddie have this moment.
And what was left of that anxiety just melts away.
---
Getting Chris inside is a bit of an ordeal. Buck’s insisting he’s got him, but the kid’s all limbs even when he’s awake enough to help, let alone when he’s dead weight. But this is also something they’ve done hundreds of times by now, and outside of the soft cursing that generally came with trying to get a sleeping kid out of a car without waking him up, Buck does in fact have him, and Eddie just shakes his head and goes to unlock the door.
“Come on, you’re dead on your feet. Lemme take ‘im, you go get ready for bed,” Eddie murmurs, holding out his arms. And it’s a testament to just how tired Buck is that he only hesitates long enough to press a kiss to Chris’ curls before he hands him over.
“I might be asleep by the time you make it to bed,” he mumbles, leaning over to press a kiss to whatever part of Eddie he can reach as he passes by - his shoulder this time - and Eddie just laughs softly, heading after him down the hall.
Eddie gets Chris changed into pjs quickly with the efficiency of years of practice behind him, tucking Chris in within a couple minutes. Chris mutters and twists for all of a moment when he’s laid down, before practically melting back into that unique bonelessness that only kids seem to be able to manage. Eddie takes a long moment, just watching him breathe, taking in the soft moment as the gift it is, before leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead.
He shuts the door gently behind him, heading for their bedroom, his own tiredness finally catching up with him as his steps turn heavy as heavy as his eyelids. Pushing open their door, he can’t help but just...stop, in the doorway.
Buck’s stretched out on their bed, clearly having gotten as far as yanking off his shirt before just giving up and sprawling across the covers. He looks tired, and comfortable, and like he belongs in a way that makes Eddie’s heart ache.
He finds himself crossing to the bedside before he’s fully thought through what he’s doing.
Find your moment.
This seemed like a pretty good one.
Buck doesn’t seem to immediately notice that Eddie’s dropped to one knee next to the bed, instead pushing himself up onto one elbow to face him to say something, tired smile still in place. He freezes when he actually sees Eddie though.
“Eddie..." he breathes out, and seems to lose whatever else he was going to say, eyes wide and bright and so, so lovely in the low light of their bedroom lamp.
“You know, I had a whole speech planned, for when I was going to do this earlier,” Eddie laughs low, sheepishly. “All went right out my head about two seconds ago. So,” he takes a deep breath, waits for Buck’s brain to suddenly come back online as he scrambles to sit on the edge of the bed, smiles up at him, breathes out, “Evan Buckley, will you marry m-”
He doesn’t even get the chance to finish the question before Buck’s crashing into him, and they’re going down laughing in a tangle of limbs and clinging hangs and breathless laughter.
It takes a long couple of moments after that for them to get their bearings again - for them to stop breaking out in breathless giggles every time they so much as look at each other, and for their grips on each other to ease from clinging to holding to keeping close. They do manage though, with both of them ending up sitting on the floor, leaning back against the bed, breathless, and smiling so hard it hurts.
Buck’s leaning his head against Eddie’s shoulder by the time they get their breath back, and though Eddie knows the answer - he still kind of wants to hear it. He holds up the ring box again, leaning down to press his question into Buck’s hair, “So, what do you say?”
And Buck twists to press a laugh into his shoulder before leaning back enough to grin at Eddie, “Yes. About damn time, yes.” And then he’s holding out his hand, and Eddie knows his grin is goofy and lopsided, and he can’t find it in him to care as he pulls out the ring - a simple titanium ring with a thin rose gold band through the center - and slides it onto Buck’s finger. He knows he’s not the only one holding his breath the whole time.
God, it looks perfect on Buck’s hand.
“Where’s your phone?” Buck asks, and Eddie takes a long moment to actually process the question - both because he’s too caught up in the way the silver looks on Buck’s finger, and because the question’s muffled from where Buck’s staring at it too, his voice soft and almost...awed.
“Huh?”
“If I don’t tell Maddie right this second, she might actually kill me.” And Buck definitely doesn’t get why that makes Eddie bust out laughing, if the confused smile he shoots him is anything to go by, but instead of explaining, he just digs in his pocket for his phone.
It takes a couple tries to get a picture they like, if only because they’re back to breaking into giggles every time they look at each other, but they do get one. Eventually.
Eddie’s pressing a kiss to Buck’s cheek - he’d missed actually landing that kiss, because Buck had turned at the last second to laugh, his hands coming up to frame Eddie’s face, and the picture’s blurry and cuts off the top half of their faces.
But Buck’s smile is bright and the ring is clear, and that’s about as good as they’re going to get.
Eddie sends it to Maddie, knowing damn well that within five minutes it’ll be sent out to everyone else too. In self-defense, he shuts his phone off immediately after. Buck laughs at him - but Eddie notices he makes a grab for his phone to shut it off too.
There was going to be glorious hell to pay tomorrow, but, for now...for now he just wanted to enjoy the moment.
#911 fox#eddie diaz#evan buckley#buddie#my writing#ff#long post#I said I'd write a proposal fic and that's exactly what I did
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#36
{45 OTP Prompts: “Is it weird that was a total turn on?”}
July 3, 1985
“It’s days like today I wish I was more of the swimming type.”
Even the upholstered furniture was oppressive, and with the window unit cranked up as far as it would go, Joyce could still feel the unattractive trickle of sweat tracing a path from her armpit to her rib, and down the groove of her spine to the denim of her jeans. It wasn’t a jeans kind of day, it was a shorts kind of day, but she didn’t wear shorts. Wasn’t attractive on a woman of her age, she knew, same way she didn’t wear sleeveless tops anymore, no matter how much Jonathan reassured her when much to her chagrin she was called out of the house one Sunday in a shirt with the sleeves cut off and a pair of his old track shorts.
She had been cleaning that day, and fully intended to stay in the house in that getup, hair piled into what might have been a bun and what might have been a rat’s nest, but there had been a call from the Wheeler’s, the line ringing and then nothing but static when she’d picked up. She’d flown into a panic and thought it was Will, had jumped into the car and driven over there only to find the boys engaged in a campaign and Karen apologizing profusely over Holly’s having played with the phone again. When she’d gotten back home and calmed down and been recalled to her outfit she was mortified. Never again.
“Why aren’t you more of the swimming type?” Shifting forward in the metal lawn chair, the second of the pair they’d dragged in to sit on, hoping to catch a breeze on their backs instead of stifling in velour, Hopper took another sip from his beer and cocked a brow. “We could go. It’s certainly hot enough.”
“Nice try, chief, very smooth,” Joyce had snorted, peeling her bangs from her forehead with a wrist and giving him a significant stare. “I don’t swim.”
“Do you not know how?”
“I know how.”
“Then why don’t you wanna swim? I could come. Join… join you.”
“You really think all those kids at the pool want to see a couple of old people in swimming gear splashing around in the shallow end?”
“No,” Hop drawled, taking another swig of the Schlitz. “But I bet they’d go for the chief of police showing a little patriotism and taking a jump off the diving board.”
“Do they even have a diving board,” Joyce mused and Hopper chuckled.
“Backflips. Cannonball -”
“Stop.” She shook her head. “It’s not happening. Besides, don’t you have talking to do? Talk with Mike and all that?”
“I’ll do it later. El’s with the boys, it’ll be fine.”
“If you say so.” Silence fell between them and Joyce lifted her shirt from her skin, fanning it gustily, letting out a long sigh. “Reminds me of the summer Jonathan was born,” she breathed. “Too damn hot.”
“Hold on.” Sitting forward, Hopper’s brows knit, and he fixed his gaze on her torso. “Do that again.”
“Do what again.”
“Lift your shirt.”
“Oho, what now?”
“You heard me. You were flapping your shirt, I saw something. Looked like a scar, you have a scar?”
“Probably just a stretch mark,” Joyce murmured, but complied, reaching for the hem of her tshirt and lifting it tentatively, before letting it drop again.
“It’s a scar.” Hopper’s face was perturbed. “What happened?”
“I had my appendix out when I was sixteen.”
“I wanna see.”
“You just did!
”“I wanna see again.”
“Seriously,” she huffed. “You wanna complain about my detective skills but you can’t remember when I had my appendix out.”
“I had forgotten.”
“That I had my appendix out, or that I had a scar on my stomach?” Her voice was small, but her gaze level, significant, and immediately she regretted it. It had been over two decades since either of them had seen any portion of each other not immediately visible to the public, and she ought to cut him a break. Still, somehow, it felt a little bit warranted. They’d talked about it then, she’d thought he cared. Maybe he had, maybe he hadn’t, and the memory of his fingers going over the place still made her shiver.
“Lemme see.” His tone was insistent, and he reached for her, Joyce smacking him away. “Handsy. There’s nothing to see. It’s just a little… pink line.”
“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”
“Oh you had your appendix out?”
“No, but I’ve got other scars. Stories to go with ‘em -”
“You just wanna take off your shirt because it’s hot. Go on, I won’t stop you.”
She really ought to have congratulated herself on how nonchalant it sounded. Giving him the opportunity to undress without revealing her nerves, the fact that somehow even as he whined about his body degenerating over the past years she still found him good to look at. More so, in many ways. She’s never been into skinny men. Maybe it was because she could see her own ribs every time she took a shower and didn’t find it a turn on to see someone else’s. He’d never been small, had dwarfed her in height and girth even in high school, but when he’d come back to Hawkins those six years ago, rumors spreading about his forgotten PD career in NYC, about his dead daughter, she’d still found him attractive. He’d broadened, thickened, settled and maybe it was comfortable and maybe it wasn’t but he wore the weight well. All thoughts which transpired in a brief amount of time as he grunted and made short work of the buttons on his uniform shirt, shucking his undershirt off over his head and letting out a satisfied huff.
“Little better?”
He waggled his eyebrows. “You tell me.”
“Stop.”
“We should go swimming.”
“Where, Hopper? In that puddle you call a pond to the south of here? Jordan Lake? I’m not getting more fishing line tangled around my ankles in the name of swimming. I’d rather have heatstroke.”
“Kids aren’t coming home any time soon.” His tone was low, and she rolled her eyes.
“Things have changed, Hop.”
“Yeah. I know it.” He gestured to himself in general. “The muscles are still under there, I’d wager.”
“It’s called stretch marks and sagging – sagging,” Joyce added emphatically. “And it’s not pretty.”
“I might have a different opinion.”
“So we’re just gonna sit around in our underwear in July like a couple of beatniks, hoping our children don’t walk in on us.”
“Pretty much.”
Muttering something about “Different opinion, my ass,” Joyce gave in and hauled her tshirt over her head, feeling the skim of the small draft from the AC unit over her damp skin at once and moving a hand to her hair, hoping it would huddle around her shoulders enough and give her a little bit of decency. “No comments.”
Her warning was unnecessary, however, as Hopper appeared to be unable to comment even if it wished, his gaze unabashed on her, and Joyce found her color rising. “Stop,” she breathed. “You’re embarrassing me. I’ve had two kids.”
“Is it weird,” Hop managed at last, slight smile hidden beneath the mustache, becoming more apparently by the moment only by the creases of his eyes, “that it’s a total turn on?”
“You saying this does it for you,” Joyce deadpanned, meeting his gaze and slouching to emphasize the general effect gravity had on her figure.
“Yeah.”
“Weird.”
“Not any weirder than you liking me like this.” It was honestly disgusting to be touching anybody’s skin in a heatwave like this, but touch they did, and explore and discover, and when it was all said and done, weirdness was the last thing on either of their minds, panting to catch their breaths, and dissolving into laughter like high schoolers once again.
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Takara’s Hero Academia [S02 E06]
Well, well, well. Here we are at least! I finally got over some writer’s block and am back with a new chapter for you guys! I’m so sorry this took so long. I just couldn’t finish this chapter for some reason, but I think Season 4 kicked me out of that funk so here we are!
Alright, lemme tag my wonderful supporters @dailyojiromashirao, @elite-guard-hardygal (who is letting me borrow her OCs, the Teichidas, very sweetly as well as being basically a beta-reader for me cus they’re just that awesome!), and @fandoms-fandoms-everywhere99! Sorry again for the wait!
Here is the Masterlist for this story for those who want to reread/catch up on previous chapters.
I now also have a Ko-Fi account if anyone wants to support this story. It should even mean you get chapters faster. Anyway, hope you guys enjoy this chapter!
God Bless and Good Day!
~The Lupine Sojourner
My teammates were walking toward us and I wave at them.
"Sorry about that, guys." I say, rubbing the back of my neck sheepishly. Chiharu smiles sympathetically at me.
"No sweat. You okay now?"
I nod. "I got gummies." I reply shortly, clearing my throat. "So...where’d we place?" I ask. Hiyoko sighs, her arms crossed and an unreadable emotion on her face.
"We tied with Team Tetsutetsu." Hiyoko explains, almost listlessly. I nod.
"Cool." Was all I could think to say. Hiyoko groans.
"This was our chance and we blew it!" She huffs. "You need to take this seriously, Takara!" I was too stunned to acknowledge that she used my first name. She thought...she thought I was…
"Hiyoko, I am taking this seriously! It sucks! I hate it cus it’s partly my fault! I should have used my Quirk better so we would’ve had a place in the finals! I’m sorry! I just can’t let myself get hung up on the past or I’ll--I’ll break down again!" I exclaim. Silence reigned and I have to walk away or I’ll break down in front of them or say something else I’d regret. Shinso follows, motioning everyone to stay.
"Your dad said there was an hour lunch break, so we better get food now before the line gets too long." He muses. Feeling as bad as I had when I went into the bathroom, I only nod, looking at the ground as I plod along, eyes prickling as a warning of advancing tears. Hiyoko was right; no matter how positively I tried to spin it, I couldn’t deny the fact that I failed, that we wouldn’t go into the final game. And it still sucker-punched me in the gut just thinking about it. "C’mon, you said it yourself; you can’t get hung up on the past. Let’s get lunch and- -"
"Shinso, I’ve been meaning to talk to you, actually." I interrupt, finding something to distract myself with; the way he used his Quirk on his teammates instead of letting them be themselves. He raises a brow as I stop and turn to him, crossing my arms. "You brainwashed your teammates." I point out sourly.
He shrugs. "That’s what my Quirk does, yeah." I grit my teeth, reaching out and smacking his shoulder.
"Baka! What were you thinking?!" I hiss, unsure whether this sudden frustration was at myself or Shinso, but either way, I needed to let it out.
"Ow! So what? I want to show people what I can do! I don’t see the problem, Takara." Shinso replies, rubbing his shoulder. My eye twitches.
"Dude! You want people to know you’re an aspiring hero, right? So don’t brainwash everyone you need to team up with! Let them be themselves and build up a mutual trust as equals! It looks bad when you go around just brainwashing people cus you need a team!"
Shinso frowns. "I know what I’m doing."
I glare back. "I don’t think you do!"
"Okay, fine! Look, unless we’re in combat or something, I won’t use my Quirk again, alright? Happy?!"
I sigh heavily, the emotions fading a little. "Yes. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have exploded at you. I’m just...frustrated and...and I guess disappointed. I should have been able to think rationally and ensure we made it to the next game, but I blew it and now I’m stuck on the sidelines, without much hope for recruitment."
"Based strictly on your performance in the Festival, maybe not.”
I wince, knowing that blunt truth already.
“But,” Shinso continues, stepping a little closer, “keep in mind, people also saw and heard that you were involved with that sludge villain attack a while ago, and then in the USJ incident. If they’re smart, they’ll look at your history and see how amazing you are and give you an offer for an internship. Plus, you did pull off some amazing moves in the obstacle course and in the cavalry battle."
I take a breath. He was right. This doesn’t mean my chances at being a pro are gone.
I manage a smile at him. "Okay. Okay, yeah. You’re right." He nods and we head back to our class waiting rooms to grab our wallets in silence, promising to meet at the entrance to the food court, where I assume we’ll run into my other teammates and maybe some of 1-A, too.
Suddenly, I hear someone growl "All Might." I pale and instinctively inch closer out of curiosity.
"I haven’t seen you since that press conference ten years ago." Toshin-Oji replies. "Been a while. I saw you and figured I’d say ‘hi’."
Whoever Toshin-Oji is talking to huffs. "Did you now?" The person says in a mocking voice. "Well, if that’s all you wanted to do, we’re done." I hear footsteps receding and the grumbling male voice muttering to themselves, then Toshin-Oji laughs and I hear motion and then a fairly heavy landing.
"C’mon, why the cold shoulder?" All Might asks. Did he seriously not pick up on the high level of ‘I don’t want to talk to you’ this guy’s giving off? Or is there a point my uncle’s getting at here? "You should be thrilled; after all, your son’s doing very well out there, just using half his power." Was Toshin-Oji referring to Shoto, cus Shoto has two powers? If so, was he talking to- -wait...he’s talking to Endeavor?! I didn’t know those two didn’t get along to this extent. "You must be a great teacher!" I blink. Was he serious? Did he seriously just want to talk to Endeavor about teaching methods? Was he that unsure of his own teaching abilities?
"Are you implying something?" Endeavor growls.
"No!" Toshin-Oji replies. "I want to know your secrets. How do we train the next generation of heroes?"
"Do you really think I’d tell you anything I’ve taught the boy? You’re all flash and no brains as usual. Outta my way!" I almost come out of my hiding place and snap at Endeavor, but manage to stay in place and bite my tongue. It was very disrespectful to talk that way to your elders, no matter how deserving they are of a lecture.
"...Okay." All Might mumbles. He finally decided to stop pressing Endeavor into talking to him. The receding footsteps halt.
"Let me assure you of one thing, All Might." Endeavor growls, halting. "Whatever it takes, that kid of mine will beat you someday." I blink. I wasn’t terribly close to Shoto, but hearing this exchange, I might have to change that. His dad sounds like a scumbag! "I’ll make sure of it. That’s why I created him." I have to put my hand over my mouth to suppress a gasp of shock and disgust. I didn’t like the sound of that at all! If that’s Shoto’s home life...no wonder the kid’s a bit...reserved. So this sleazeball just married and had a kid so his kid could do what he couldn’t? Good God! Poor Shoto! I decide that was enough and move to walk away. "He’s in a rebellious phase right now, but he will take your place." Is the last thing I hear. Slightly horrified and disturbed, I walk away and jog to get my wallet. That feeling didn’t go away.
"Hey, are you okay?" Shinso asks when I see him. I nod. Obviously, that conversation wasn’t meant to be public, so I shouldn’t spread it around.
"Yeah, just hungry." We walk to the cafeteria, neither needing to speak.
I hope I can still get my food now before Mom and Dad get there- -I stop short when I feel a buzz. I’d gotten a text and reluctantly open it to find it’s from Dad.
Oto-san <3333:
Hey Tik-Tak! You rocked it out there! Your mom and I are heading down the food court! Mind meeting us there so we can eat together????
I wince. The more question marks, the less option I had. I bite my lip to hold in a groan. Mom and Dad meant well and surely they knew that not everyone could get into the final game, right? They wouldn’t be mad, right? I then jump a little as I feel a hand on my shoulder.
"Hey." Oh shit! I was feeling...weird after everything that had happened today, and who else should show up but Eijiro?! I put a smile on (genuinely happy to see him) and turn.
"Hey." I reply, putting my phone in my pocket. "Whassup?"
He sighs. "Saw your team’s ranking."
I bite my lip. "Yeah...um...congrats on getting second!" I say without a whole lot of emotion. I was too drained for that.
He chuckles. "Yeah...I’m really sorry- -"
"Let’s not talk about that, okay?" I feel bad for interrupting him, but Eijiro just smiles a little and nods.
"Right, right. You getting lunch?" I smile.
"Yeah. Mom and Dad wanna meet…" I then sniffle, feeling that damn prickling again. Crap why am I crying?! My parents won’t care, right? They just want to eat with me! I’m their kid, so it’s natural!
"Hey, hey! Don’t cry!" Eijiro cries, thankfully not too loud as he moves to hug me and I break and clutch him to me. It was stupid, but here I was, crying again over this stupid Sports Festival! I look up to see that tears were forming in Eijiro’s eyes. "Takara, really, it’s gonna be okay. I know it sucks, but I promise it’ll turn out okay, just keep your head up."
I try to get a hold of myself and nod, wiping my tears away. "Th-thanks, Eijiro." I mumble genuinely, sniffling again. I then spot a water fountain and take a long drink from it. Again, it made me feel a bit better. Now, to lunch. Eijiro walks with me and I find my hand inching toward his, wanting to hold it, but I refrain from grabbing it. We hadn’t crossed that boundary yet. He’d think I was weird if I just grabbed his hand.
And yet, he was here, just walking beside me and being there.
Much as Shinso had been for me, but this was different. Shinso was an amazing help but Eijiro was a different but equally valuable type of support.
We slowly make our way to the cafeteria, not needing words, just each other’s presence and then I saw both my parents and my teammates.
I wave, feeling my heart skip in anxiety as I approach. Mom smiles at me, and Dad’s first to reach me, scooping me up and swinging me around.
"You did awesome out there, Tik-Tak!" He exclaims. I blink as he sets me back down. I spot Shinso giving me a ‘told you so’ look in my peripheral vision.
"But...but I didn’t...I didn’t get into the final game." I mumble, my heart wanting to believe they weren’t going to be upset, but my head unconvinced just yet for some reason.
"These things happen, Takara." Mom says, hand on my shoulder. "Next time, though, don’t let your emotions get the best of you and be able to think on your feet."
"And don’t make yourself pass out!" Dad snaps, playfully smacking my shoulder. "That was really foolish, sweetheart!" I rub the smacked shoulder and nod.
"Yeah I know." I blush at being scolded in front of my classmates and those I’d teamed up with. Mom then comes to my rescue.
"Well, enough about that; who are your new friends?" She asks.
"We’re not quite friends, Ma’am, but my name is Hiyoko Teichida and this is my stepbrother, Ryuji." Hiyoko replies before anyone else can. I roll my eyes.
"Don’t pretend you don’t love me." I tease. Hiyoko scoffs.
"I’ve never pretended to do or be anything." I laugh and throw my arm around Chiharu’s shoulder.
"Suuurrreee...Anyway, this is my friend, Chiharu! She’s that third year I bumped into’s little sister." Mom and Dad nod.
"We’re the Yamadas, if you didn’t know." Dad says, gesturing between Mom and himself. "We teach- -"
"I know." Chiharu interjects gently. "You guys kinda have a rep around the school." Dad laughs.
"I see." Mom frowns.
"I understand Hizashi having one, but how do I have a rep?" I raise a brow, chuckling.
"You expelled an entire class." I retort. Mom has an ‘ooohhhh’ face and nods.
"Right." Dad puts his arm around Mom and I’s shoulders as I release Chiharu.
"I don’t know about you guys but I’m starving!"
I laugh. "Yeah me too!" We get food and find a table to sit at, but couldn’t find one with enough room for my friends, so I sit with my parents. We were close to the girls of 1-A, and I wave at them.
"You okay after passing out?" Dad asks, hand on my shoulder. I nod, looking down.
"Yeah. Um, I got gummies and water and feel better."
"That’s good." Mom replies, thankfully not pressing me for details. "Eat." I do, and look directly at my parents.
"...Thanks for not focusing on me in the commentary." I mumble. Mom nods.
"I know the audience made things worse for me during my first Festival and I didn’t want to subject you to that if I could avoid it." I smile at her.
"Thank you." I reply, feeling relief flood me. They weren’t upset at all that I hadn’t made it into the final game. Deep down, I’d known that, but it was so reassuring to hear it directly from them, in their own way of saying it.
We enjoyed the rest of our meal in silence before it happened.
At first, I thought nothing of Denki and the creep walking over to the girls’ table, though I noted it out of the corner of my eye and through my earth quirk.
Then I overheard what they said.
Mom had gone to the bathroom and Dad went to get a refill on his drink. Seemingly by chance, the boys chose right then to approach the table.
"Yaoyorozu, Jiro." I hear Denki call. I look over curiously. He sounded serious...
"Uh-huh? Did you need something?" Momo asks, turning to look at him as well. I sip at my drink. Mineta motions to the cheerleaders passing by.
"Well, I’m sure you already know, since you’re, like, the class rep, but they said all the girls have to wear those uniforms for the big cheer battle this afternoon." That did it. There was no cheer battle! Those perverts just want to get the girls in those skimpy outfits. I slam the chair back and stand, stalking over.
"Uh, h-hey, Takara!" Denki cries. They weren’t counting on me interfering, apparently. I cross my arms and tap my foot, making a show of thinking.
"You know...I just can’t quite remember…" I mumble. Denki’s stupid enough to take the bait.
"Can’t remember...what, exactly?" I whirl on him angrily.
"Remember when either of my parents told me about this quote-unquote cheer battle!" I snap, arms stick straight at my sides, my anger clear on my face.
"W-well, they probably assumed you- -"
"Don’t try me!" I snap. "They said no such thing and you know it, you perverts!" The boys stutter and stammer for a reply and I scoff, rolling my eyes. "Go back to your lunches before I smack you two!" I growl. The boys slink off, muttering to themselves as I sigh heavily and put my hands on my hips.
"God, they’re idiots." I grumble, turning to the table of girls.
"Those little perverts!" Kyoka growls, crossing her arms over her stomach.
"I almost fell for it. Thanks, Takara." Momo adds, hand over her chest in relief. I nod.
"Anytime. Someone needs to put those two creeps in their place. Honestly, I’m surprised Denki was a part of the scheme, but I guess all boys have that side, to some degree." I mumble to myself, roll my eyes, then turn to the girls’ table and smile. "Enjoy your lunch!" I chirp, turning to walk off. It struck me then that Eijiro most definitely wouldn’t have been a part of that scheme. He’d have put a stop to it sooner than I did, if he knew it was happening. He was a gentleman who had respect for women.
"Thanks, Yamada!" Ochaco calls after me, interrupting my thoughts. I wave back and sit down just as my parents come into my field of vision. I sip at my water and pretend I hadn’t moved.
"Something happen?" Dad asks as he sits down, chuckling. "Kaminari and Mineta look scared to death."
I shrug. "They probably got called out on something." I reply, unable to help a smirk. Mom and Dad crack a small smile and chuckle. Figures they'd see through it.
"I see. Well, let’s hurry up and finish. I want a little nap before the finals." I bite my lip. I’d be stuck in the stands the entire time.
"Yeah, you’re right." Dad replies, standing. He smiles and puts a hand on my shoulder. "We’ll see you later, Tik-Tak." He says, drawing me in for a hug. I hug him back.
"See you." I briefly hug mom and walk over to the table Eijiro sat at after throwing my garbage away. He smiles at me and I feel warmer all of a sudden.
"Hey, Kara!" He greets.
"Hey. You all about ready to head out?" I ask. Eijiro nods, standing.
"If you are, sure!" He grabs the last few bites and swallows almost without chewing, then grabs his tray and all his trash. I smile and hold up my hands.
"Don't mean to rush you, Eijiro." I reply. He comes back to me, smiling.
"Seriously, Kara, I was leaving anyway." He then starts walking and I catch up. This time, I swear Eijiro's hand inches toward mine, even barely touching it, and I can't help feeling like his touch was magical, warming the skin his hand touched.
=#=#=#=#=
“Get those hands in the air! It’s almost time for the last round!” Dad cheers from the commentary booth, and I can’t help smiling in amusement. He absolutely loved commentating.
One of my favorite memories involved pretending I was saving an entire city while Dad played the part of the frazzled but awestruck news reporter who was caught up in the action with his cameraman, and man did Dad ever dive into the role. I shake myself and pay attention. “But before that, good news for those who didn’t make the finals!” I knew what he was about to say; there were games to play.
As soon as he explains the next game to the finalists, I’d leave. I didn’t feel like playing any games.
“Have fun competing in those side games, everyone!” Dad encourages. The screen then displays a tournament-style ranking system, and I realize what the final ‘game’ is. It’s a sparring tournament. “After they’re over, the 16 students from the top four teams will be duking it out 1-on-1 in a tournament style competition! I promise you’re not gonna want to miss these epic matchups!” I smile. I’d be watching and cheering my classmates and Shinso on.
“Aww yeah! Finally getting a chance to show what we’re made of!” I almost forgot I was so close to Eijiro, scooting just a little away to give him some space. His eyes and his expression shift into something like elation and excitement, the area seeming lighter as a result. I blush a little, accidentally staring at him. His eyes were locked on the screen, though, so he didn’t seem to notice. “I’ve watched these finals every year and now I’m finally in them!” I smile, feeling happy for him and his excitement. It was hard not to, given the look on his face.
“So, wait...is it always a tournament?” Mina asks curiously.
“The final’s always a 1-on-1 competition, but they switch it up every time.” Hanta explains, smiling in excitement as well.
I nod. “When my parents were in the Festival, they had to spar with foam boxing gear and could use their Quirks to distract or block their opponents, but not attack directly. It was a weird way to fight but it taught them new applications for their Quirks.” I add, not feeling a bit resentful or jealous of those around me who were finalists.
“Come closer and draw lots to see who you’re up against.” That almost breaks my good mood, but I maintain it by thinking of getting to watch and take notes on all the amazing fights. It’ll be fascinating to see how each of my classmates and the other classes that were in the finals fight and interact. “Then enjoy the pleasure of the Recreational Games before we start. The 16 finalists have the option of participating in those activities or sitting out to prepare for battle. I’m sure you all want to converse your stamina.” Oba Nemuri continues, then walks a little closer. “I’ll start with the first place team.” She says, but suddenly Ojiro puts his hand up. I turn to look at him, surprised. What was he up to?
“Um...excuse me.” He murmurs, seeming nervous. “Sorry, but I’m withdrawing.” That sends a shock through everyone.
“What? That’s crazy!” I exclaim before I can stop myself.
“No way!” Izuku adds.
“This is a rare chance for you to get scouted!” Tenya protests. Ojiro puts his hand down, staring into space.
“It just wouldn’t be right.” I suddenly remember he was on Shinso’s team, if I’m not mistaken. “I barely remember anything from the Cavalry Battle until the very end of it.” I wince. He was definitely on Shinso’s team. “I think it was that guy’s Quirk.” Thankfully, he doesn’t point out Shinso. I spot him in my peripheral vision and meet his eye. I glance to Ojiro with a stern look to say ‘see what I was talking about?’ and Shinso looks only a little remorseful, but not terribly concerned about the consequences of his actions either. I sigh and refocus on Ojiro. “I know this is a great opportunity. I wish I could take advantage of it, but my conscience won’t let me.” I have to admit, I could see where Ojiro is coming from here, but at the same time…
“Just think about this.” Izuku pleads, stepping a little closer.
“I have, okay?” Ojiro replies, and I can tell he was upset that it had come to this, but his mind was made up. “Everyone gave their all in Round 2, but I was just someone’s puppet. No way. I don’t want to advance if I don’t even know how I got here. It wouldn’t be far.”
“That’s not true!” I chime in. “Ojiro, please. You don’t remember, yeah, but you still did good! You still earned a spot in the finals! There’s only 16 kids here that can say that! Do it for them if you have to, but please don’t waste this chance!”
“Kara’s right!” Hagakure adds, shaking her gloved hands around. “You’re making too much of this! Just kill it in the finals and prove you should be there!” I nod my agreement.
“Yeah, what the girls said.” Mina is next to speak, smiling. “I didn’t do much in the battle either.” Ojiro puts his hand over his eyes, seeming to shake slightly in emotion.
“That’s not it.” He replies. I decide to leave the decision ultimately up to Ojiro. After all, we were kind of dog-piling on him. “I’m talking about my pride here. I refuse to give that up.” Everyone seems to join me in giving up trying to change Ojiro’s mind. Before Oba can decide what to do with Ojiro’s withdrawal, there’s another development.
Another kid walked closer to the stage Oba was on. “Nirengeki Shoda from Class 1-B. I think I should withdraw for the exact same reason. Regardless of how strong I am, this isn’t how I wanted to get here!” I blink. This kid was as moral as Ojiro, unwilling to sacrifice his pride or personal values just to get into the finals. “It would go against the values of the festival to advance without earning my spot!” Ojiro seems more relaxed now he had someone agreeing with him and joining him.
Beside me, Eijiro seems emotional, tears brimming in his eyes.
“Listen to these guys!” He murmurs, “They’re so manly!” I chuckle and pat his shoulder.
“No need to cry, dude.”
“I can’t help it.” He replies, wiping his eyes. “Sorry.”
“You’re okay.”
“Well now,” Dad says over the PA, unsure where this was going, “this is another weird turn of events.” Mom hums.
“We’ll have to see what Midnight has to say about all this. She’s the one in charge.”
For her part, Oba seems to be thinking it over. She then holds out her whip. “This sort of talk is incredibly naive, my boys!” She reprimands sternly, cracking the whip to punctuate what she was saying. “That turns me on!” I turn bright red.
“Can she not talk like that on live TV?” I moan, facepalming as everyone takes in what she said.
“Shoda, Ojiro, you’re withdrawn!” She doesn’t seem to be in the least affected by what she said. She then puts his hand to her chin in thought. “Let’s see...we’ll have to move up two students from the fifth-place cavalry team so we have enough contestants.” That was true. That was...Kendo’s team, right? Wasn’t she the red-head I took the headband from?
Confirming my thoughts as if on cue, the girl I took the headband from raises a hand a bit. Yeah, she’s Kendo.
“We were frozen most of the time.” She points out. “Honestly we barely did anything in the calvary battle, right girls?” It seems Ojiro and Shoda’s withdrawal inspired students to act on their morals and pride. Kendo looks to her teammates for confirmation, which was provided in nods. “You should choose from the group that kept fighting the whole time.” Wait... didn’t my teammates and I tie with Tetsutetsu? That means...maybe I have a chance!
“Kendo!” Tetsutetsu protests, shocked his classmate would give up her chance in the finals too.
“I’m not doing this as a favor.” She explains, “It’s just fair.” Tetsutetsu seems as emotional as Eijiro had gotten.
“Seriously you guys! Thank you!” He cries.
“Hmmm,” Oba all but purrs, tapping her finger on her chin, “Team Teichida and Team Tetsutetsu were tied in the match.” She announces, seeming to think it over a bit. “Now...what to do about that…” She then snaps her fingers. “Oh, I know! We’ll add a thrilling wildcard and open four slots!” Everyone is shocked and Oba wriggles delightedly.
“Wait what?!” Dad exclaims, “Midnight, what are you thinking!?”
“Just what I said; a wild card element will be so much fun!” Oba runs a hand through her hair, licking her lips and making everyone uncomfortable, “Besides, it’ll work out as long as there are still an even number of contestants. It just means one extra match!” She explains, waving aside any concerns. “Now, Team Teichida and Team Tetsutetsu will have to vote who goes into the finals! Two from each team to make it fair!” She announces. “Teams, get together and discuss it!” Suddenly, Hiyoko was in front of me, Ryuji not far behind. I jump a little.
“So?” Hiyoko asks, getting straight to the point. I notice Chiharu walking up behind the Teichidas and wave at her. Hiyoko huff impatiently. “Who’s going into the finals?” She presses, crossing her arms. I sigh.
“Honestly, Chiharu can go. I screwed us up in the cavalry battle, so she should go.” I mumble. Chiharu instantly grabs my shoulders.
“Are you crazy?! I’d be eliminated first round I fight in! I know that! I don’t have that much physical might. Compared to the others in the finals, I’m not up to the task.” She replies. I frown, gently peeling her hands off before she gave me whiplash.
“Chiharu, really, I- -”
“You’re going, sis.” She interrupts, smiling at me. “Just kick butt for me, okay?” I look her in the eyes, really wanting to take her offer but wanting to make sure she actually wanted me to go to the finals.
“You sure? This is a big deal...” It was a moment in the spotlight, and an opportunity to get recruited by pro heroes for an internship.
“Yes!” She barks before I could press her further. “Honestly I know my limits and this fighting competition thing is beyond me. You do your best and have fun. Don’t worry.” I sigh.
“If you’re sure, then...thank you.” She pats my shoulder. Hiyoko nods, then turns to her step-brother.
“Alright, now that that’s settled, you go, Ryuji-boy.” Ryuji seems taken aback.
“Wait what?” He asks. “Hiyoko-nee...are you...are you sure?” She nods.
“Yeah.” It was clear she didn’t actually want Ryuji to go, but she was being a big sister. “This is your time in the spotlight, so don’t waste it, baka.” She grumbles. Ryuji looks his sister in the eye.
“Hiyoko, seriously. I know what you’re doing. I want you to go.”
“No! This is your chance to show yourself for once, you idiot! Now get out there and kick ass!” Ryuji shakes his head.
“Not this time. Look, you need to do something for yourself here, Hiyoko. I know what this means to you. I promise I’ll be fine. You deserve this. Besides, there’s always next year.” Hiyoko seems to be trying to contain herself, but I think she appreciated the sacrifice Ryuji was making. She playfully smacks his shoulder.
“Don’t get mad at me when I’m in the spotlight, okay?”
He smiles. “Wouldn’t dream of it.” I look to Hiyoko.
“So, looks like we’re going to the finals.” I muse, smirking.
“If we fight, and we might, I’ll take you down.” I scoff.
“We’ll see.”
With Hiyoko, sometimes you had to return fire with fire. We watch Team Tetsutetsu discussing which members would go, soon reaching the conclusion that Tetsutetsu and some girl with vines for hair were going to the finals. Together the four of us approach Oba. “So, you four were agreed upon unanimously?” Oba asks. I nod.
“Yup!” She smiles, cracking the whip.
“Perfect! It’s been decided that Teichida Hiyoko, Yamada Takara, Tetsutetsu Tetsutetsu, and Ibara Shiozaki are to fill the open slots in the final round.” We all quickly draw lots and file them to see who we had to fight. She then points with her whip to the screen, where the lots were filled in. “Take a look at the brackets, my dears! That’s who you’ll be fighting!” The crowd cheers as they read the screen and who will be fighting who. I scan and spot my name...right next to Hiyoko’s. Crap! She jinxed it!
I then continue across the brackets and spot Eijiro’s name and see that he’s fighting Tetsutetsu. I laugh. “Seriously?!” Eijiro growls. “How does this keep happening?!” Tetsutetsu was nearby since we were the finalists. I laugh harder.
The other pairs assess each other, exchanging brief words of various subjects, mostly ‘I’ll do my best to beat you’ type talk.
Appearing once again like magic, Hiyoko’s voice comes over my shoulder.
“We’re against each other.” She murmurs, eyes on the screen. I jump.
“I need to put a bell on you or something.” I grumble, hand on my chest.
“Don’t be a whimp.” Hiyoko sniffs. “I expect a good fight, Yamada.” So she was back to calling me by my last name. Great.
“Just remember you asked for it.” I reply, crossing my arms and smirking. “Tell you what; I win you call me Takara or Kara. I lose, you can call me Yamada.” She frowns.
“What?” I chuckle.
“I prefer Takara to Yamada, so let’s make a bet.” I explain. She chuckles.
“Alright, fine. I’ll take that bet, Yamada.” She walks off before I can reply, and I shake my head. Always a mystery, that one.
I then notice that Izuku is against Shinso. I look around and find Shinso walking over to Izuku. He acts casual, glancing at the board like that was why he was there.
“That is you, right?” He asks calmly. “Izuku Midoriya?” Izuku jumps, startled but manages a nod. Shinso smiles. “A pleasure. So, you excited?” I notice Ojiro walking over like he knew what could happen. I walk faster to get over there. Izuku opens his mouth, but before I can call out or Izuku can speak, Ojiro has his tail over Izuku’s mouth.
“Not so fast.” He grumbles, glaring at Shinso like he’d been about to hurt Izuku. I finish my approach.
“There you are, Shinso!” I call. Ojiro is so startled, he releases Izuku.
“Hey, Takara.” Shinso replies, smiling. “So you got in after all. Congrats.” I chuckle.
“Yeah, pure luck.” Ojiro looks ready to pop from either confusion or anger.
“Wait, Takara, you know this guy?” I frown at Ojiro.
“Yeah I do. We went to middle school together.”
“So you know his Quirk?” I sigh.
“Yes. I do. He’s never used it on me, though. I know you don’t believe me, but Shinso’s a good guy.” Ojiro scoffs, then walks away. Izuku looks between us before going after Ojiro. I decided to stay with Shinso.
“Thanks for that.” I sigh.
“No problem.”
“I know what you’re gonna say.” He says before I could say anything else. I raise a brow.
“Oh?” I ask.
“Yeah. It’s because of me brainwashing my team for the cavalry battle that the tail guy is suspicious of me.” I nod.
“Well glad you know that.” I mumble. “Look, Shinso; you keep pulling stunts like that, people will never see past the Quirk. I’m sorry to be blunt but it’s true. You have to earn people’s trust, make them see how good a person you are.” He chuckles.
“You keep saying that. I know that in my head, but sometimes I get carried away.”
“That’s gonna happen but you have to keep a level head here. I get you’ll have to use it in these fights, but use it sparingly, okay?” Shinso smirks.
“Takara, I’ll win. No one knows how to break my hold on them, so I’ll win easily.”
“Unless you fight me. I know how to break free if you use it on me.” I point out.
“Takara, I’ll keep my promise. I’ve been looking at fighting styles, so I’ll try my best at physical fighting if we’re paired up.” I nod.
“To make it fair I won’t use my Quirk on you, either. It’ll be a normal fight.” Shinso ruffles my hair.
“Trust you to play fair even when you know it’s not the smart play.” He notes. I roll my eyes.
“Whatever, dork. You’ll see what I can do when I fight.”
“Yeah yeah. See yah around.” I wave him off. I then went to find Izuku.
“Okay, let’s push pause for a momentary interlude!” Dad cheers. “Before the battles begin, it’s time for some pulse-pounding side games!” I take that as a cue to leave, not interested in the games. The less my blood sugar yo-yos the better.
Arriving in the 1-A waiting room, I find Izuku and Ojiro there.
“Can I beat something like that?” Izuku was asking as I take a seat as if I were meant to be here. The boys look surprised, but they accept my presence readily. I tilt my head.
“Sorta. If it were any other circumstance than 1-on-1 fights, you could be able to.” I explain automatically. Then realize the question was at Ojiro. “Sorry.”
“No you know him better, apparently.” He replies. I nod.
“He’s actually pretty powerful, in a way. People who don’t know his Quirk wouldn’t be able to break out of his control. You answer a question, you’re his, but there is a way out. Simply put; you need external stimuli, like a push or pinch. Something to jolt your adrenaline and stimulate pain. It doesn’t need to be something extreme, just a little.” Izuku nods.
“Which means I can’t rely on that.” I nod.
“That’s what I meant by you maybe winning in anything but a 1-on-1 match.” I reply, sighing. “Honestly, your best shot is saying nothing to him and fighting him hand-to-hand.” I then run a hand down my face. “I don’t know who to root for, but I guess I wanted to even the playing field.” I continue. Izuku sighs.
“Even though you know him, thanks for telling me.”
“Don’t sweat it. Understand if Shinso asks I’ll tell him the basics of your power.” Izuku seems to pick up what I was saying (I wouldn’t reveal his secret but I’d give Shinso something to go on) and nods.
“Of course. Thanks again.” I smile.
“Good luck. He’ll try to get you to talk.”
Izuku fist-bumps Ojiro and I and we walk together back out to the arena.
“You told him?” Shinso asks after I separate from my friends. I stop walking.
“It felt fair. I’m sorry.” I reply softly.
“You know what doesn’t change my strategy, right?”
I nod. “I guess that’s why I told him. I knew it wouldn’t matter to you, but I felt it fair to warn him.”
Shinso sighs. “Fair or not, it’s done. Honestly, it won’t matter. I’ll still find a way to make him talk and get him under my Quirk.”
I smirk. “You’ll try. I’ll watch you. Honestly, I don’t know who to vote for.”
“I don’t expect you to vote for anyone. It’s enough that you’re watching and not judging me by my Quirk.” I ruffle his hair.
“You know it!” I then wave and make my way to the Class 1-A seating and sit down, sighing contentedly.
“I saw your ranking, Takara. It’s fortunate you got into the final round.” Comes Tenya’s voice behind me. I start a little and turn to look at him.
“Yeah...congrats on getting into the finals too!” I reply, genuinely happy for him. He deserved it. He smiles a little.
“It was thanks to Todoroki’s leadership.” He says humbly. “But thank you.” I nod.
“Anytime.” One of the things I liked about Tenya is that he never forced conversation, always saying what he wanted to say then leaving it at that. I turn to watch the games, almost feeling bad for skipping them, but I needed a rest. I still felt a bit tired from all the excitement of the day.
“I saw you’re up against someone from your cavalry team, that right?”
I nod. “Yeah. She was the leader of our team She’s a nut, but I like her.”
Tenya smiles. “Trust you to make friends of your enemies.”
I roll my eyes. “She’s not an enemy. No one here is really an enemy. This is a friendly competition at heart. This isn’t meant to divide people.”
Tenya chuckles. “I suppose so. Still, it is a competition. You have to treat it like one.”
“I know.” The relative quiet of the arena settled between us again. I watch Cementoss begin to create the platform for the coming matches using his Quirk. “I hope to have that kind of control of my Quirk one day. I mean he’s not even trying and he’s making an entire structure.” I’d spoken without thinking, leaning back in my chair in the row with the best view of the arena.
“Hmm, full control of your Quirk is an admirable goal, Takara. I think you have the drive to achieve it, based on what I’ve seen so from you.” I smile, looking him in the eye.
“Thanks, Tenya. That means a lot.” I tell him. I then see Cementoss create the last little bit of the platform and stand.
“That’s it. I’m pretty much done here.” He says.
“Thank you, Cementoss!” Dad cheers, the screen showing him smiling happily, waving his arms, and in general being Dad. “Hey, sports fans! Are you ready?!” The response is instant and loud, the cheering almost rattling the entire stadium. “After all the action you’ve already witnessed, it’s time for the real battles to begin! Can you feel the excitement! Our competitors are on their own now. Sometimes heroes only have themselves to rely on. Heart, skill, strength, wisdom, courage! They’ll have to use all these things to rise to the top!” My class had been filtering in while I was focused on what was going on, I notice, as Dad pauses for the cue that the fight could start. It comes fairly quickly, Dad having timed things fairly well. The cue, flames from the corners further from where the actual fight would be held. “Alright, audience! Let’s cut to the good stuff and not delay these finals any longer!” Dad spreads his arms. “Welcome our first fighters!”
The screen displays Shinso and Izuku. We’d had our picture taken before being shown to the waiting room. We were all decidedly nervous, but Izuku showed it a bit too much. He looked like someone had threatened him. “Whoa! He looks kinda scared in that picture, doesn’t he?” Dad teases as the boys walk toward the platform. “It’s Izuku Midoriya from the Hero Course, versus Hitoshi Shinso from General Studies, a guy who hasn’t done anything to stand out yet. The rules are simple! Immobilize your opponent or force them out of the ring! You can also win by making the other person cry ‘Uncle’!” Dad smirks. “Bring on the injuries cus we’ve got our very own Recovery Girl waiting on standby! So put your morals aside and don’t be afraid to play dirty!” I sigh. Did he really have to talk like that? “But of course no life-threatening crap, folks. That’s not allowed! Real heroes use their powers to throw villains in jail, not kill them!”
Cementoss sits in the referee’s chair, waving a little as he did. “I’ll stop anyone who gets too rough.” He murmurs. Izuku takes a deep breath, preparing for his match.
“So you can just give up, huh?” Shinso asks. “In a way, this is a test of how strong your spirit is. If you know what you want your future to hold for you, you can’t worry about what other people think.” I smile proudly at him. I think I said something very similar to him once. I’m glad he’s taking it to heart.
“Ready?!” Dad cheers, about to officially start the match.
‘That monkey was going on about his pride earlier,” Dad talks over Shinso to start the match, but neither fighter moves to engage the other, “but I just think he’s an idiot for throwing away his chance like that.”
I bite my lip. Shinso had said he’d try to get Izuku to talk, but this seemed over the top in some ways. Talking so negatively about Ojiro was a harsh way to get Izuku to talk and fall under his Quirk.
Unfortunately, Izuku was taking the bait, eyes narrowing in anger. He starts walking forward, livid. I bite my lip, knowing what was about to happen.
“Don’t you talk about him that way!” Izuku roars, slowing and appearing listless as Shinso’s Quirk takes hold. Shinso smirks as Izuku eyes gloss over.
“That’s it. I win.” I sigh. It was just like Shinso said; he’d get his opponents under his Quirk, and then it would be over. With no one close enough to jolt Izuku out of Shinso’s control, Shinso could secure victory fairly easily.
He might even be able to win the entire festival just using his Quirk. As long as he could get people to talk to him he’d win.
“Aaahhh! I warned him not to say anything!” Oijiro groans, hands on his head. He was hoping he’d helped Izuku win against Shinso.
To be honest, I’m not terribly surprised at this outcome. Shinso knows how to get people to talk, even if it is a bit harsh.
“Hey, what’s the dealyo?!” Dad cries, “This is the first match, and it’s started with a bang! The fight has just begun and Izuku Midoriya is completely frozen!”
I watch as Izuku remains still, awaiting Shinso’s order to walk out of bounds. If something doesn’t change, Izuku will lose this match and be out of the tournament!
#fanfiction#OC Insertion Series#MHA#BNHA#OC#Original Character#Original Female Character#Eijiro Kirishima#Eijiro Kirishima/OC#Takara Yamada (OC)#Eijiro Kirishima/Takara Yamada#Takara's Hero Academia
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Lift the Veil - Chapter 5
Lift the Veil - Chapter 5: War of My Life
Rating: T
Summary: After living in Tokyo for the past six years, she decides to head back to Azumano to escape the big city. However, she now has to face everything that she tried to flee from all those years ago. How exactly will she fare when the pages of a long forgotten book start turning once more?
Read On: FanFiction.Net, Archive of Our Own
Risa may or may not have a drinking problem, but I most certainly do know that I have a problem with how this is progressing because I’m behind on my editing schedule for this fic because life but mainly because I have no clue what I’m even doing.
On that note, enjoy this mess of a chapter.
War of My Life
I’ve got a hammer and a heart of glass; I got to know right now which walls to smash.
Waving goodbye to Saehara, I left the police station feeling energized with the noon sun on my skin. Ritsuko stood outside, dressed in a fashionable ensemble that she complemented with a designer handbag. She smiled before somehow managing to run towards me in her heels to give me a hug.
“How’ve you been?” she asked excitedly as she let go of me.
“Good,” I replied as we started walking towards the café that was, according to her, to die for. She reminded me of my high school self, back when she was level-headed and I was the hyperactive one more in touch with my girly side. I supposed owning and managing a couple of high-end boutiques does that to someone. “Work’s been easy, and it’s nice being back home. What about you?”
“I’m great!” she exclaimed with an enthusiasm for life that I no longer had. “The boutiques have been doing well, and the suppliers are wondering if I can extend the market to a bigger city like Sapporo!”
“Really?”
“Yup! I get a lot of customers who come by the boutiques since a lot of our better merchandise is marked as store-exclusives.” She smiled. “Honestly, I didn’t realize I’d have this much fun working with the fashion industry. When my friend decided to rope me into entrepreneurship, I didn’t know what I was getting myself into.”
“Wasn’t it hard?”
“Of course! I nearly quit in the beginning since I was selling unknown brands from a tiny little boutique, but one regular turned into several regulars who attracted more upcoming designers which, in turn, brought more regulars, leading me to where I am today. It’s amazing to see how far everyone I’ve worked with has come, and seeing all my hard work paying off has been the biggest reward for me!”
“I’m glad to hear that.”
“Well, what about you?” she asked. “Don’t you like what you’re doing?”
I paused, unsure of how to actually respond to her question. Once upon a time, I had big plans on becoming a news anchor, completely obsessed with the fact that I’d become famous in my own right by showing up on TV every day. I settled on editing being my entry job simply because I was relatively decent with writing and grammar but, somewhere along the way, I became attached to books. Even though I still aimed to be a news anchor, I now had to determine whether I kept that goal because I really wanted to become one or because it was my childhood dream.
“Yeah,” I finally answered, trying to hide the small crisis that innocent question brought. “Working in Tokyo was too much, so I decided to move back here. The workload is nothing compared to my last job, but it still keeps me preoccupied for most of the day.”
She nodded, staying silent as if waiting for me to elaborate as much as she did. However, before she could say something to egg me on, we arrived at our destination—unfortunately christened Castelnuovo Bistro—and were seated in a booth under some dim lighting.
After ordering, we started talking about our college lives which, eventually, led to us sharing all the dumb things we did as students. However, no amount of laughing and eating could get my mind off of earlier. Even as we headed back to the police station, joking as if we were back in high school with Mari to complete our trio, I could barely focus on what exactly we were talking about.
And, when I walked back in, both Saehara and Hiwatari stopped their conversation, staring at me with bewilderment as I sat down, opening my laptop to drown myself in work and forget about my sudden displacement in life.
For study breaks, my friends and I always headed to the Starbucks overlooking Shibuya Crossing, somehow managing to find a vacant table in the midst of all the Tokyo chaos. Over personal drinks and shared snacks, we’d discuss what I secretly called the topic of the day.
One time, unfortunately, they all decided to focus on their love lives. They ranted on about terrible exes and failed romances or praised their current partners, proudly boasting about their healthy relationships. I sat there reading (The Little Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry felt too out of place amidst the love lives of young adults in this century) while nibbling away at my baumkuchen, hoping that I could stay quiet and unnoticed for the rest of this conversation.
Unfortunately, they could read neither my mood nor my expression, so they eventually turned to me with smirks and curious eyes. They were all journalism majors and approached me because I seemed just like them: a girl who only cared about how well other people perceived her. Finding it hard to connect with others, especially as a first-year in college, I clung to them if only for my weekly dosage of social interaction. (It took me a while to finally separate from this group of people, but that wouldn’t happen until I finally got closer to other people in Japanese literature who eventually introduced me to other people in journalism.)
“Come on, Risa-chan!” one coaxed. “You’ve got to have some interesting stories!”
“I came from a small town in northern Japan; the only interesting story I’ve got is the fact that my sister’s been in a relationship for four years.”
Another pouted. “We’re asking for your stories though! Nothing passionate? Sexy? Steamy?”
I silently laughed at the memories that resurfaced, mentally berating myself for my stupidity. But then my mind, whirring from comprehension, presented two memories regarding the first word. I cringed at the juxtaposition of them, and I could feel my tears rising up.
“Please,” I croaked, ready to chug my chai latte after I said my piece. “The only thing that was hot and steamy was the bits of salmon floating around in the soup.”
They looked at each other, slightly confused before forcing a laugh. Any lover of language would have either groaned or snorted at my remark. Clearly, I had found myself in the wrong group of people.
Blocking out the rest of their conversation, and the memories trying to flood my brain, I downed my drink, trying to forget everything with its comforting warmth.
“Harada-imouto, be a pal and let me go home early today!”
Looking up from my laptop, I saw Saehara in front of me, bowing at such a steep angle that I thought he might just tumble over. I nearly dismissed him without hesitation considering the Saehara I knew probably had a dumb reason to excuse himself, but I decided to give him the benefit of doubt.
I braced myself for his terrible answer. “…why?”
“I’m having dinner with Akane and—”
“Why are you still here?” I screeched, somehow too caught up with the pitiful image of his girlfriend having to wait for his sorry ass to consider that Saehara might’ve just played to my pathos. “You’ve got better places to be than this dingy place!”
Thanking me, he rushed out at such a pace that I couldn’t help but believe his claim. He usually left the station at a casual stroll, and I smiled at his burst of energy and enthusiasm before returning to my work. I had around an hour left before I wanted to leave for the news station so I could polish up my pre-broadcast work without running into Hiwatari.
“Is my station really that dingy?”
Looking up from my work, I saw Hiwatari standing nearby with a steaming mug of coffee in his hand. Startled by his presence, I slightly jumped, noting the flicker of concern on his face before his composure settled in.
“All police stations are dingy,” I answered. “To be fair though, I might’ve spent too much time in one back in Tokyo.”
He nodded. “I can imagine that the ones in the city weren’t as well-maintained, although I am glad that that was just your biased opinion. I do take good care of my station, but I am willing to work on improving it if need be.”
I didn’t acknowledge his statement. Hopefully, my disinterest would dissuade Hiwatari from continuing this conversation, but his figure lingered in my peripherals, detracting me from the work I was trying to focus on.
“Your sister invited me over for a meal whenever I was free as thanks for the other night,” he awkwardly started.
My focus waned from my growing agitation at Hiwatari’s inability to take a hint and at Riku’s well-meant yet completely insensitive offer. “Why tell me that?”
“I figured that you would’ve appreciated the notice.”
“You don’t have to be considerate of my feelings now.” I turned to him, allowing my frustration to seep through my furrowed brows and frown. “Besides, don’t you think it’s kind of late to be caring now?”
He somehow maintained his expression despite my sudden accusation. With a nod, he muttered a soft-spoken apology before he turned away and retreated back to his office. Once I heard the door shut, I gathered my things and escaped from the police station, running towards the news station in a feeble attempt to get my mind off what happened.
I knew that what I said rattled Hiwatari; he had a habit of excusing himself whenever he was uncomfortable. Not that it was easy for a layman to read the subtle changes in his expression and mood, but Hiwatari always felt apprehensive whenever he found himself in a vulnerable position. A lot of men did that to protect their manly pride or ego, but, for Hiwatari, it was one of the consequences of living with Krad for around fourteen years of his life.
Honestly, I hated that I knew this. I hated the knot that appeared in my stomach when he stiffened up before quickly excusing himself. After all these years, after everything that happened, I still couldn’t stand seeing Hiwatari anything less than his normally aloof and composed self.
I somehow managed to keep myself collected and made it to the news station without catching too much attention. The security guard greeted me with a smile, and I returned the gesture, trying to leave any thoughts of Hiwatari at the door of the building.
Heading towards my cubicle, the staff seemed as calm as always, chatting about the usual topics of the handsome Police Commissioner (not that that was helping my case and ick) or the cute new editor from Tokyo (please) before I settled down at my desk. Even with the trivial and slightly annoying conversations occurring around me, it set up the white noise I needed to fully focus on the rest of my work.
Until they started gossiping about something that turned my productivity into an existential nightmare.
“Oi, Kawamura-san, did you hear?”
“Hear what?”
I peeked over the cubicle, looking at the women in the cubicle next to mine. One of them was sitting, the other standing, but both were idly holding a steaming cup of coffee.
“That the Captain’s going to promote the new editor.”
“Eeeeh? Already? But she just got here!”
“But she graduated from Tokyo University and interned at the NHK! Don’t you think she’s overly qualified for her current position?”
“So what? She just got here. Who cares about where she came from? I’ve been working here far longer than she has, and I’ve yet to receive some huge bonus or substantial raise!”
“You’re just jealous!”
“And you’re not? She comes here from Tokyo, gets stationed at the police department with Hiwatari-san, and is already on her way to getting promoted! It’s not fair!”
“I know right!” she leaned closer to her confidant, but I could still hear her obnoxiously loud voice. “Did you hear this though? Apparently, she grew up here before disappearing off the face of the earth, and now she’s returned despite all her success. Do you think it’s a fraud? Maybe she’s running from something? Relationship issues?”
By this time, I was already so far into the conversation that I was silently responding to their blathering mouths with my changing expressions. They somehow moved onto another conversation that lost my attention without noticing that I was obviously eavesdropping, and I returned to my work, glad that I was on my way to not having to see Hiwatari first thing in the morning. But did I really want this? Anyone would be glad to have a promotion since that meant a more prestigious job with better pay but…
Damn. How dare I have these second thoughts now. I should be happy about this.
Hearing my phone ring, I looked down to see a text message from Daisuke saying that his parents wanted me over for dinner and that Argentine and Towa terribly missed my company. He, unfortunately, couldn’t be there in case he needed defuse his rambunctious family since he made plans to have dinner at my house, so I texted Riku that I would be over at Daisuke’s for dinner and continued working until I had to leave.
“Risa!” Mrs. Emiko greeted, pulling me into a hug. “It’s been forever!”
“Emiko, please, you’re choking her!” Mr. Kousuke called when he emerged from the kitchen.
She pulled away with a huge grin, ushering me into the living room before excusing herself to check up on the food. I sat next to Grandpa Daiki, bowing slightly before turning my attention to an Alphonse Mucha documentary that so happened to be on. I became so engulfed with the show that I didn’t notice Towa and Argentine slowly creeping up behind me.
“Boo.”
Startled out of my seat, I turned around to see the personified artworks hovering over me from behind the sofa. Towa had a grin that eclipsed her face and Argentine, sly bastard, covered his chuckling mouth with his gloved hand.
“Still as sensitive as ever!” Towa chirped before skipping back into the kitchen to help the Niwas prepare dinner.
Argentine offered his hand, helping me up with an apology, before setting up the table. I followed him and, despite his protests, laid out the wine goblets and silverware.
“You are the guest, Risa-sama.”
“And, as the guest, it’d be rude of me to just sit around doing nothing!”
He sighed before heading into the kitchen. From previous experience, I knew Mrs. Emiko would kick me out if I stepped onto that hallowed ground, so I settled back down next to Grandpa Daiki and dove back into the interesting world of the Art Nouveau movement.
Back then, when I practically spent every waking second with Daisuke, Riku, and Hiwatari, we tended to drop by the Niwa household after school. Riku and Daisuke always retreated to the latter’s room before dinner, getting their daily dosage of alone time together, so I spent that time studying at the dining table with Hiwatari’s guidance. And when he had to work overtime, Towa and Argentine took a break from maintaining the house to keep me company. On occasion, when Grandpa Daiki was awake or in, he’d sit at the head of the table with a steaming cup of green tea while reading or writing something.
This slightly cramped and always noisy household became my second home, and I found a second family with the Niwas, too. I used to joke around about getting to know the in-laws back then but, on the extremely off chance that Riku and Daisuke didn’t work out, I knew they’d still be family to me.
The doorbell rang, and I shot up to let whoever it was in. I didn’t think too much about who it could be but, opening the door to see a slightly startled Hiwatari, I squeaked.
“Good evening, Harada-san,” he mumbled, taking off his shoes and brushing past me without much of a scene. “Auntie, Uncle, I’m home.”
The quartet in the kitchen marched out, greeting their wayward “son” with fanfare. I returned to my spot by Grandpa Daiki, wondering why he didn’t bother to join them.
“Not greeting your practically grandson?”
“He doesn’t need this old coot to fawn over him; the rest of the family gives him enough attention anyway. Besides, it’s been a while since I’ve seen my practically granddaughter-in-law.” He shot me a toothy grin before patting my shoulder to comfort me. “I told them not to invite him for dinner with you, but they just didn’t listen to me.”
After coming back to Azumano, I hated how everyone assumed that I had gotten over what happened. Sure, their conclusions were valid, but my being back here didn’t mean that I had finally made peace with what happened. Like any other adult dealing with a lack of closure, I left it as far behind me as feasibly possible so I could move on with my life. And here I was, still running away from it just to keep myself afloat and somewhat sane.
I took Grandpa Daiki’s hand and smiled, grateful for his gesture. It was nice to know that someone still kept what happened in the back of their mind even after my long absence.
“Risa, honey, dinner’s ready!” Mrs. Emiko called. “And could you please help Dad over? Thanks, dear!”
Despite his old age, he was still fit enough to move around without aid. Mrs. Emiko probably worried about her aging father yet, despite Grandpa Daiki’s notorious stubbornness, he let me help him to the table if only to avert my attention from Hiwatari’s presence at the table.
Argentine insisted on having me sit next to him, so I found myself wedged between him and Grandpa Daiki. I found it funny how I became closer to Argentine even though he kidnapped me back then. I certainly kept my distance from him after meeting him at the Niwa household once but that somehow turned into him poking my ticklish sides when I was too engrossed with my work to get a rise out of me (and entertain whoever else was around.) Maybe it happened from listening to all his long-winded stories, filled with melodramatic tangents, about Qualia. I was a blooming teenager obsessed with love, and he probably found solace from my genuine interest in his life.
“How are Towa and Argentine?” Hiwatari asked, rightfully concerned over the artworks wellbeing.
“They’ve been good,” Mr. Kousuke replied. “Emiko’s been working them to the bone like always. It’s a mystery how they’re still holding up so well.”
The married couple squabbled from his remark, and I glanced at Hiwatari’s expression. With his smiling eyes and upturned mouth, I found myself recalling those looks he—
“Risa-sama, are you okay?” Argentine asked. He, luckily, didn’t draw any attention towards me. I exhaled the breath hitched at the back of my throat and drank some wine to wash it do.
“I’m good. Sorry to worry you.”
“It’s alright as long as you are fine.” On his other side, I saw Towa jab him while taking a bite. “Erm, if you don’t mind, could you share some of your experiences in Tokyo? Towa and I were wondering what it would be like to be in a big city.”
They couldn’t leave Azumano due to reasons along the lines of being delicate and an extreme liability, so I picked out stories that I knew would catch their attention. Hooked on my words, they reminded me of children with their enchanted eyes and fascination with the simplest of things. Eventually, the table quieted down as I started talking about my college misadventures.
Argentine found himself attached to the many themed cafés dotting Akihabara, while Towa clung onto the melting pot of Harajuku’s fashion scene. Mrs. Emiko and Mr. Kousuke, however, were thoroughly entertained whenever I’d talk about my college hijinks. (I mean, at some point the couple was snorting in laughter. Pretty sure they were getting a kick out of this.) Grandpa Daiki would sometimes smile, and Hiwatari looked like he was having a ball with it. Whenever he would catch me watching him though, he would feign indifference, faking a cough to hide his laughter and cover that smirk he couldn’t seem to get off his damn face.
To think I was somehow concerned over this man a few hours ago when here he was, perfectly fine while relishing in my embarrassments.
Eventually everyone calmed down and the conversation moved to other topics, like the artworks asking if they could take a short trip to Tokyo and the art-savvy men wondering what could possibly go wrong. (Apparently, it was so bad that the three of them couldn’t wrap their head around the potential chaos that would occur.) I finished the grand meal of Tournedos Rossini (courtesy of Emiko’s grand tastes and Argentine’s odd talent for creating fine cuisine) before my eyes drifted to Hiwatari, who looked content surrounded by such animated company for dinner.
Honestly, why the hell was I always staring at him?
“The past is always too hard to leave behind,” Grandpa Daiki sighed.
“It’s not like it’s easy to leave it behind when it’s right in front of you.”
“There will never not be a day when it’s not in front of you,” he reminded before sipping his water.
I groaned, downing the rest of my red wine. Grandpa Daiki offered his untouched goblet, and I quickly finished it as well. Did he want me to drink for him? Or maybe he wanted to help me by letting me loosen my grip on reality?
Eventually, dinner came to end when Grandpa Daiki excused himself to get some sleep. Both Mrs. Emiko and Mr. Kousuke left to help him upstairs despite his protests. Towa and Argentine started to clean the table, keeping me in my seat despite my protests to help. They emerged from the kitchen after they tidied the table, each of them carrying a flower-adorned porcelain plate with a matching teacup. Argentine set his set of china down in front of me, and I stared in awe at the intricately decorated petit four and could smell what seemed like jasmine tea from my cup. Hiwatari had a different petit four in front of him, and his cup was filled with black coffee that eclipsed the flowery aroma in front of me.
“Enjoy the desserts!” Towa chirped.
“You won’t join us?” I asked.
“There’re dishes to wash,” Argentine answered. “Besides, Satoshi-sama likes time to himself.”
“Well, if he likes time to himself, I should help you then.” I started to get up from my seat, but Towa pushed me back down.
“Nu-uh. Madam said that no one gets up from the table until they need to leave.”
“Well then, I have to go.”
“Risa-sama!” The artworks simultaneously called over the scraping chair as I started my long overdue escape.
“I never thought the day would come when Risa Harada would pass on an offer of cake and tea.” When those cold words sliced through the air, I stopped. I turned to see Hiwatari’s icy glare, unmoving as he mechanically sipped his coffee. The striking color of his eyes only aided his intimidation. “If you have a problem with me, you should personally tell me instead relying on off-hand comments and running away.”
The Hiwatari I knew would’ve sulked for a bit instead of passive aggressively confronting anyone; I was the one guilty of doing that. But what fueled his uncharacteristic pettiness? Was it to call me out on my disdain from earlier in an eye-for-an-eye type of deal? Or was he trying to undermine me by using my own methods?
I shot him a look before sitting back down, readying myself to verbally battle with Hiwatari. Immature, I knew, that our communications had finally boiled down to this, but unrelenting stubbornness was an uncanny trait I shared with the young man hailed as such a mature role-model; we could never just admit our wrongs. Besides, I wasn’t going to take this without a fight. I wasn’t that young woman who allowed herself to get hurt by others anymore. And if ignoring him meant protecting myself, I didn’t care what others thought of it.
Besides, the damn hypocrite had no right to call me out on that.
“Oh, boo-hoo. I’m so sorry that I heart your pathetic pride,” I responded with sarcasm. “I didn’t realize that I had to be nice to your frozen majesty when I came back.”
“It’s common courtesy, although I highly doubt you know what that means since you’re making a fuss at someone else’s house.”
“I wouldn’t be like this if you hadn’t started it.”
“Did you need to continue it though?” he scoffed. “Six years later and your volatile temper is still as prominent as ever.”
“As it should be considering I have good reason for it compared to that nasty attitude of yours.” I took a bite of my cake. “Tell me, how does it feel to have karma bite you in the ass?”
The calm front that Hiwatari somehow maintained gave way to the storm brewing inside of him. He shot up, slamming his hands on the table; a cacophony of clattering china and spilled drinks followed. I flinched, slightly terrified at his sudden ferocity almost reminiscent of Krad, but I had to maintain my ground.
“Harada-san, how could you be so damn stubborn?”
I glared at him, gingerly laying the fork down before I threw it at his face. “Self-preservation, Hiwatari-san: something you know very well. After all, would you keep someone in your life when you know that they’re able to ruin everything in one-fell swoop?” His eyes widened, and he fell back into his chair looking devastated. “See? You wouldn’t, so I have every right to do the same.”
Finally finished with letting out those pent-up emotions, I focused on the food in front of me, stuffing myself with the cake before emptying the teacup without break, burning my tongue from its scalding temperature. I left the house without a farewell, avoiding the frozen artworks who were unfortunately caught in the fray and the bewildered older Niwa couple standing by the foot of the staircase.
I ran back to my house, trying to at least keep myself composed until I got to my room, but when Daisuke opened the door, I broke down crying right there on the stoop, screaming into my hands until Riku pulled me into an embrace.
#dnangel#satorisa#satoshi hiwatari#risa harada#my writing#fanfiction#I HATE THIS CHAPTER#and honestly i just really liked writing argentine and towa#practically anyone but the main two#and grandpa daiki#maybe i should just quit this before it turns into a cesspool of melodrama and retreat to writing about anything BUT romantic relationships#because i love platonic relationships too much for my own good#and also because this is starting to encroach on personal territory#someone lemme go back to meet the me a year ago and smack her to stop her from writing this catharsis#because a year later i'm having too much trouble trying to edit this crap#and some japanese culture time!#when risa talks about the salmon floating in the soup she's referring to ishikari nabe#which is one of the hokkaido region's famous foods#(hokkaido is the top most island of japan where sapporo is located)#honestly i think my favorite thing about uploading this on tumblr is adding some japanese culture commentary#because formatting it on this website is HELL
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all the things that could’ve been
For context, there’s a theory roaming around that the hivemind could travel through time and change events before they happened. here’s my idea of how that could have went. Mentions of kissing, so if you aren’t comfortable with that, don’t read or skip that part. Also mention of a panic attack. That’s the most graphic it’ll get.
I recommend listing to “if i’m being honest” by dodie for the first half of the story and “shrike” by hozier for the second half of this for the full experience.
______
It had been about four years or so since Paul had taken that new job Mr. Davidson had offered. Well, it would have been four years. But Paul remembers those years so vividly, it came as a surprise when he woke up one morning and everything was different.
The year prior had been the worse one he had ever experienced. One mental breakdown over job layoffs, a car crash, and his mother’s funeral led to a mental hospital and caffeine addiction. He didn’t want to sleep (the nightmares were to real), so he drank to stay awake. He’d stay awake, and he’d feel more worn out, so he’d drink more to stay up. The caffeine crash happened, and he needed more to stay away from dreams- the cycle kept going until he collapsed on the subway. Next thing he knew, he had an IV in his arm recovering from extreme sleep deprivation. Of course, once he was out of the ER, his father drove him to the mental unit. He didn’t want to go, but Paul understood why- he needed help. Badly. So, if the next two months had to be spent in a bland white-walled prison, so be it. It wasn’t as bad as he’d thought, most of the people he met were so sweet and gentle. The only thing that really scared him was the amount of minors in the ward. Those poor children.
Once he’d been released, he started to take better care of himself. Got a therapist, moved to a different part of Hatchetfeild, looked for a new job. His old math tutor, Mr. Davidson, offered him a job to help Paul get back on his feet. All he asked for in return was a monthly meeting to check up on his mental health. Seemingly fair enough, so Paul accepted.
Paul tried his best to deal with other parts of his life. He’d even tried dating again- something he hadn’t done since high school prom. He’d always felt horrible about himself, about his face, his hair, his body, just a whole mess really. But he needed to get out there sooner or later, right? He started with a girl named Mary (sweet lady, just a bit too narcissistic), but by the god-knows-what-number date, he’d just given up altogether. He liked most of the women, he even flirted with some! But he just couldn’t get over the fact that a month ago he was in a mental hospital. It shouldn’t define him, but it just seemed to loom over everything he did. The only good thing about that place besides the kids were the routines. So, he spoke to his therapist about it, and she said that having a constant thing in life would be extremely helpful. While he was still addicted to caffeine, he felt that he could try and ease his way off it. So, coffee shop it was.
He had started off with Starbucks.First, it was an espresso. Next, a simple iced coffee. Then he moved to Iced coffee with creamer. Than to hot coffee. Than a simple black coffee. Soon, he would be off coffee and down to the weird cappuccino things.
He was driving to Starbucks to get his morning coffee when he noticed a sign. Beanie’s. Huh, He’d never heard or seen the place before- must’ve been new. He pulled into their lot, parked, and walked in. He was hit with the smell of muffins and coffee beans. Only, it smelled slightly worse than Starbucks. But honestly, who was he to judge? He walked up to the counter, ready to order. A woman peered from outside a room, and yelled.
“EMMA! Costumer!”
Paul felt bad. God, if this ‘Emma’ girl was going to get yelled at, maybe he’d go back to Starbucks. Of course, that idea was thrown out the window when he saw her.
Paul wasn’t big on beauty. He could appreciate someone’s attractiveness, but he never really seemed to fall for anyone based on that. He had to know them, you know? But when Emma walked out, god he felt his cheeks heat up. She wasn’t supermodel pretty, but she was still breath-taking nonetheless. Sure, her hair was in a messy bun (that wasn’t done to be stylish, if he may have added), bags under her eyes, and looking like she wanted to punch a guy, but she was beautiful.
“Welcome to Beanie’s, what can I get you?” Emma asked. Gosh, her voice. Like velvet. Sad, tired velvet, but velvet.
“Uh, one black coffee, please,”
____________
Paul would be lying if he said that he put up with Beanie’s mediocre coffee for Emma. But what can he say? She was one of the first purely good things to happen to him in a while. Sure, she never recognized him and he always talked super quietly and watched from afar, but it was enough for him. He told his therapist about her, and she said to just ask if she wanted to maybe hang out sometime. Of course, that was insane. He’d have to talk to her about things other than his coffee, and he just wasn’t ready for that. But it had been almost two months, and if Paul didn’t do something now, when would he?
So, that faithful day came. He walked into Beanie’s on morning, and paced to the counter. Look normal, Paul. This doesn’t have to be weird.
“Welcome to Beanie’s, can I help you?”
“One black coffee,” He smiled. God he hoped he didn’t look as awkward as he felt. While she made the coffee, he noticed a small tip jar in the corner. He placed a $5 into it; Emma must’ve had superhuman hearing, because she groaned.
“Okay, okay! I’ve been brewing up your coffee-”
Paul stopped her from singing as soon as the first note hit. She may be attractive, but her singing voice was far from it. “No, no, it’s okay,”
“Oh, thank you! You know, Nora came back from Coldstone Creamery last weekend and took up the whole singing thing. It’s annoying as hell,”
“Sounds like it,” Paul gave a breathy laugh.
“I’ve seen you around before, what’s your name?”
“Paul,” He extended his hand for a shake.
“I’m Emma-” she finishes her sentence while handing Paul his coffee. “-but I’m sure you know that by Nora’s yelling,”
At this point, Paul was 100% positive he had a crush on Emma. Okay, crush sounded childish. He had a thing...a fascination...no, no, it was a crush. And god damn it felt nice. To have something positive in his life after so long.
“Would you want to get lunch with me sometime?” The words slipped out of his mouth before he could think. Fuck, fuck fuck fuck. But to his luck, Emma smiled.
“Yeah, actually, but it has to be dinner- my lunch break is only 30 minutes. What about next Friday, 7?”
A costumer behind Paul started to curse him out- Paul had forgotten other people existed. Oops. “Yeah, that works. See you then,”
“See you then,”
When Paul got home that evening, he was ecstatic. He had a date! Maybe it would even be a good one! But he didn’t want to get his hopes up- she looked excited when he asked, but she could be doing it out of pity. After all, he did stare helplessly at her. And if she knew he was there a lot, than maybe she hoped going out with him would just get rid of him. No, stop it, he told himself. If she didn’t want to go out with him, she would’ve said no. He’d just go on the date and see what happens.
The next morning as he drove to Beanie’s, it occurred to him that he didn’t know where to pick her up. Or how. God, he was stupid. She was probably already on shift, so he decided on asking the moment he got into the shop.
Of course, this had to be the day Emma was off shift. It was Wednesday, so she was off until 2pm. Of course. Paul sighed as he walked into the coffee shop. The last thing he expected was to bump into the one and only while she walked out.
“Sorry, I- oh hey! You’re Paul, right?”
It took a second for Paul to get his footing and voice back, but he smiled awkwardly. “Hey, Emma. Yeah it’s me. I’m actually really glad I ran into you, I have a question,” He and Emma walked over to the ordering counter.
Finger guns. “Knock yourself out,”
Paul chuckled before replying. “Can I get your number? I just want to know where to pick you up Friday,” a barista coughed, and he looked over. “One black coffee,”
“Yeah, of course! Here, lemme just-“ she snatched Paul’s phone right out of his hands, and put in her number. “There you go! I’ll send you a photo you can use for my picture so you know it’s me,”
“Okay. Okay, uh, cool,” He smiled. The barista handed him his coffee, and he put a 10 on the table. “Keep the change,” he looked back at Emma. “Now, I’m going to go to my job,”
“Why don’t you go over to Starbucks, huh? Coffee here’s shit,”
Paul looked around the shop, and smiled. It just reminded him of her. “Because, some things are worth it. Like-“ he took a sip of the cup.”-Damn good coffee. And you,”
She blushed. She fucking blushed. God she was adorable. “Well, thank you,”
_____________
So came Friday night, and Paul was getting anxious. Emma had said to meet him outside of Beanie’s (’I’m working until 5 Friday’, she said), but it had been then thirty minutes and there was no sign of her. It’s not like he was hiding or anything- he was sitting in his car, smack in front of Beanie’s doors, clear as day. Maybe she forgot. Maybe she blew him off. No, Emma was a nice person, she wouldn’t do that. Would she? But, just as Paul was starting to have a freak out, Emma pushed open the front doors and looked around. Thank god. She saw Paul and waved, walking to his car; he rolled down a window.
“I was starting to think you’d ditched me,” He laughed.
“Me, leaving you? Never,” She laughed back and got into the passenger seat. “So, where to, posh boy?”
“Posh boy?”
“I dunno, you just look posh,”
Paul looked at himself; he was just wearing a nice polo and jeans. It’s not like he was wearing a suit or anything. “Oh, well thank you. You’re looking nice yourself,” That was true- she was wearing a nice pair of jeans with a blouse.
“Why thank you,” She imitated a British accent and failed horribly.
“You’re welcome, m’dam,” Paul replied with an equally bad accent. She giggled. “We’re just heading to a Mexican place. You like Mexican, right?” He returned to his normal voice.
“Of course! Who doesn’t?”
“Alright, let’s go then!”
The ride to the restaurant was much more scenic than Paul expected. The highway was way to backed up to even move, so Emma suggested they take a back route. Paul didn’t know the way, so they ended up switching spots. Emma typed in the restaurant's name into the GPS, and off they went. Paul looked out the passenger window to find they were driving next to an apple orchard- god was it pretty. The budding flowers and ripe looking apples that hung from the trees made Paul practically taste the apples in his mouth, The smell of apple cider in the distance made him swoon. If there was one thing that could always remind him of childhood, it was the smell of apple cider- how his grandmother used to pick him up from school in the fall and make him apple pie and apple cider, and feed it to hi until he was stuffed. Those were the days.
“What are you smilin’ so hard about?” Emma asked.
“Nothing really, just it smells amazing,”
“Alright,” He could feel her gaze on his face every now and again for the rest of the ride.
Once they arrived back at the restaurant, Emma pulled into the parking lot, and jumped out of the car. Paul soon followed, and when they both got the doors of the restaurant, Emma smirked and opened the door for Paul. “Ladies first,”
“Very funny,” Paul said sarcastically, but smiled.
The restaurant wasn’t fancy, but it was on of those places that you probably shouldn’t wear a t-shirt to. The lighting was dim enough to eat in but still feel like you were eating at some five-star place. The food smelled amazing as they both walked past the kitchen, following the host to their table. They sat down, and took a good look at their menus before Emma cleared her throat to speak up. “You know, I saw you staring at me the past two months,”
Paul was taken aback. Shit. “What?”
“Yeah, you kept staring at me. You’d stay in Beanie’s and drink your coffee. It’s not hard to tell when someone's eyeballing you, just so you know.” She saw Paul’s face, and laughed. He must’ve looked stupid. “Don’t worry, it’s fine. I mean, I found it creepy at first, but you were always so flustered when you ordered, so I knew it wasn’t like you were stalking me,”
Paul rubbed the back of his neck. “I didn’t think you’d even notice me,”
“With a face like yours? It’s hard not to!” She gave a breathy laugh before continuing. “But then you asked me out and honestly, I was super exited. You seemed...sweet.”
“Well? Am I what you expected?”
“No,” Paul was about to frown, but then he smiled. “You’re so much more,”
The food was fantastic. Emma had gotten the chicken taquitos, and Paul ordered the beef tacos. Safe to say, it took a while to make, but they passed the time by staking the salt and pepper shakers from the tables around them (Paul noted later that taking them while people were eating wasn’t the best idea, but honestly it was so much fun that he didn’t care). Then their food came, and they laughed because they had so many shakers. Eventually they put them back. While they ate, they talked about family, their jobs, and then their pasts eventually came into the discussion.
“So, what’s your trauma?” Emma asked after a mouthful of taquito.
“Hm?”
“Come on, we’ve all got something. Spill,”
God, was she ready for that so quickly? Was he even ready for that? He’d never told anyone at the office (minus Bill, but Bill was his best friend) about his past, so how was he to tell a woman he doesn’t even know? “Uh, I just went through a rough patch,”
Emma seemed to catch on that he didn’t want to talk about, and didn’t push. “Ah- I get that.” It sounded like she wanted to say something, but she stopped herself. She probably realized it was a bit early for trauma talk. Thank god.
By the time they’d finished eating, the sun was just about done setting. Paul drove her home this time, and the winding back roads and stoplight gave him time to think. He was starting to fall for Emma. He knew his heart was moving too fast, that it was all too much, but he didn’t care. She was everything he’d ever wanted and more. He couldn’t risk loosing her. Paul looked over at her- her head leaning against the glass, eyes closed, but he knew she wasn’t asleep. She really looked like an angel. Paul didn’t believe in God all that much- he’d grown up in church, but he never believed God made time for everyone. Now, he was starting to believe it.
When the GPS told him he’d arrived at Emma’s place, he parked and shook her gently. “Emma, we’re here,”
She groaned. “Okay, okay,” She opened her eyes. “I wasn’t sleeping, but god I wish I was,”
Paul pretended to be offended. “ Am I that boring?”
She gave a small laugh. Paul got out of the car, and opened her door for her. She gave a thank you. “You can come up with me for a bit, if you want.” Was Paul going to say no? Of course not. He followed her up the complex until they reached her floor. She dug the front door’s key from her pocket, and unlocked it. The place was nice for an apartment. A small couch, with a tall lamp in the corner. The kitchen was decent enough, and it looked like it had been recently cleaned. The smell of lavender took over his senses, and he exhaled sharply. “Come ‘ere,” Emma motioned with her hand, to which Paul followed- he hadn’t realized she’d starting walking ahead of him. He followed her into her bedroom. It was a nice light shade of gray with a purple accent wall. Quilts everywhere, her bed looked more like a giant pillow than a mattress with a headboard. A small table that acted as a dresser sat in the corner, along with a small bookshelf. While he was looking around the room, Emma had put on a record because of course she had a record player on her nightstand. He recognized the artist- Hozier. His voice acted as an anchor to the real world when Emma walked up to Paul and kissed him.
The kiss was soft- not to hard, more like she was testing the waters. Her lips tasted like coconut. Must’ve been chap-stick; or who knows, maybe she really just tasted that sweet. He’d been so lost in her, he didn’t notice he was kissing back. He didn’t notice his arms wrapping around her waist, her hands in his short hair. He didn’t notice that she turned them around, and that they were moving backward. It wasn’t until his back hit her bed, with her kissing him more deeply on top of him did he snap out of his trance. He didn’t want this. Well, he did, but not this quick. Not on the first date. He felt like.. he didn’t know why, but it just didn’t feel right.
“Emma?” He whispered, doing his best to pull away from the kiss.
“Yeah?” She asked, her voice breathy. Paul looked away; he felt so fucking stupid. He’s a guy- he’s supposed to want to fuck her on the first date. But he didn’t want to fuck her- not yet. And that seemed like such a degrading term- fucking someone. He wanted to love her, make her feel like she was the only thing in the world that mattered to him. But not yet. Not this early. His thoughts must’ve been planting themselves on his face, because she pulled back. “Paul, what’s wrong?” Her voice sounded like honey, and Paul hated to do this to her.
“I’m...I’m not ready. I do want to, you know..just, not now,” He did his best to explain. She nodded.
“Of course. i don’t want to make you do anything you don’t want to. Do you just want to lay here? We can keep going without the sex, if that’s what you want,”
Paul wondered how he managed to find a woman like Emma. “Yeah, that’s fine,”
They curled up together on Emma’s bed, sharing a couple of kisses her and there until they both fell asleep to the distant sounds of traffic and Hozier.
The next morning, Paul woke up to the sunlight hitting his face. He didn’t even want to open his eyes at first- the sun and the warmth wrapped around him made him feel like a cat. A lazy cat that didn’t want to move, even though the day had started long beforehand; even though the cat knew it needed to eat, that it needed to get some fresh air, it wouldn’t move for the world, as it was right where it needed to be- Paul was just like that cat. But, he couldn’t get his way, could he? He opened his eyes, and smiled. He was in Emma’s room. She was tangled up with him; their legs intertwined, her head leaning on his chest, his head leaning on top of hers. She looked at peace.
Paul’s back pocket started to buzz, and Paul gave a quiet groan. God, he couldn’t get one morning of silence, could he? He gently moved one of his hands off of Emma’s back. and slowly reached into his pocket to retrieve his phone. Mr. Davidson, it read. He picked up.
“Hello?” He whispered.
There was chatter behind Mr. Davidson’s voice. Was he at the office? No, it was Saturday- he was probably at Starbucks or something. “Paul, where are you? You missed our monthly meeting,”
Fuck. “What time is it?”
“About 11,”
“I’m so sorry, sir. I, um..I had a date, and-”
Paul could practically see the smile on Mr. Davidson’s face. “No worries, Paul. And you don’t need to call me sir, remember? You know me. I’ll move the meeting until Monday,”
“Than you, Nathan,”
“Paul, I’m glad you’re back on your feet. You deserve it after the year you’ve had,”
“Thanks,” Paul bid a quick goodbye, and ended the call. By the time he’d turned his phone off, Emma was starting to stir.
“Morning,” She muttered. Her hair was a mess, and it was so adorable.
“Good morning,”
This is perfect, she’s perfect, Paul thought. I’m going to marry her.
_______________
It had been three and a half years, and Paul had never been more happy. He and Emma had been in a relationship since the first date. Emma had moved into Paul’s larger apartment. They got a cat together, and then things settled down. Paul had gotten to know everyone at the office to be one first name basis with everyone. He, Ted, and Bill went out of guys night every month. Emma kept up her job at Beanie’s while she got through community college. She given Paul her pot farm proposal, and Paul laughed. When he found out she wasn’t kidding, he helped her get a medical marijuana selling license. They worked on logos together, and honestly Paul did his best to support Emma no matter what.
Not that their relationship was perfect. When Paul’s department faced possible layoffs, it sent him into a frenzy. He couldn’t be unemployed again, living like that was hell. When Mr. Davidson called Paul into his office, Paul snapped. He started having a horrible panic attack, and the office ended up calling for an ambulance in fear of his safety. Emma, of course, was Paul’s emergency contact (along with his father), and they both ended up at the office in under a half an hour. They both talked while the first respondents calmed Paul down- Emma and his father weren’t allowed near him while he was still on edge. To this day, Paul regrets that was the way Emma met his dad. After that whole ordeal, Emma made him talk about his past. She said she needed to know, because if she needed to help on moments notice, it was important to know those things. So, Paul told her about how when they’d gone on their first date, he’d been out of a mental hospital for two months. How he’d had a mental breakdown when he lost his first job, and even thought about suicide at one point. He explained that’s why he freaked out when Mr. Davidson called him into his office. Emma understood completely- she told him about her sister’s death, and how her parents never really talked to her that much after the death, because in their grief-stricken state, they blamed her for her sister’s death. That night, both of them cried, holding one another until they wore themselves out to sleep.
But through all their ups and downs, they never lost sight of what they loved about each other. And now that three and a half years had past, Paul knew. He wanted to marry Emma Perkins. He wanted to share her last name, or for her to have his. He wanted to be with her until he died. They both already wanted this- marriage would just make it official to everyone else.
“I’m going to propose to Emma,” Paul blurted at Guy’s Night.
“What?” Bill asked.
“About time,” Ted scoffed.
“I have a ring picked out and everything. i just don’t know when,”
“You know, I proposed to Vanessa when we were having sex,” Bill commented awkwardly. “But she said yes,”
“Look where that got you,” Ted pointed out.
“Not what I meant, Ted,” Bill shot back. “Look, Paul, all I’m saying is whenever feels like the best time, even if it’s weird, go for it,”
“Just not during sex, that’s just stupid,” Ted laughed. Bill glared at him, and Ted nudged him. “All in good tidings, Bill,”
“Thanks guys,” Paul smiled.
Turns out, the right time was on a Saturday night, while they watched Dateline on their couch. She was wearing his sweater, and the cat was on her lap, and she was so perfect. Paul couldn’t think of a better time to ask the woman he loved to marry him.
“Emma?”
“Yeah, Paul?”
Here goes nothing, he thought. “Em, I love you. And honestly, you supported me at my best, and helped me up through my worst; and I like to think I’ve done the same for you. You helped me become the man I am today, and..and everything you do reminds me every day why I’m so thankful God led me to you,”
“Paul, what are you doing?” Emma asked. She gasped when he got up from the couch and onto once knee.
“This is a little bit awkward because I don’t have the ring with me,” Paul laughed, “But Emma Lauren Perkins, would you marry me?”
Emma put her hands over her mouth, and started to laugh. She let go, and she was smiling so wide. “Yes. Yes, yes, yes!” She jumped of the couch (the cat hissing and running away) and into Paul’s arms. “Of course!”
Paul kissed her, and she kissed back. They were getting married.
_______________
Paul’s been waiting for three and a half years for this day, but even in his dreams did he picture hoe beautiful Emma would be walking down the aisle.
They couldn’t afford much- they worked minimal wage jobs, and even with help from Paul’s father, they couldn’t afford a big venue. So, they decided on a small reception on the beach in Rhode Island. The boat ride and drive from Hatchetfeild to the beach was about 2 hours. Once they got there, they unpacked their stuff at the hotel room. They didn’t plan on having much of a honeymoon, just at the same beach they were to marry in for a week or so. But that was enough for them.
When the day finally came, Paul was a bubble of nerves. The wedding would take place in a small park, with the first dance and after party actually being on the beach (no one wanted to see Emma trip on her face because of sand on their wedding day (as funny has Paul and Emma seemed to think it would be, they decided against it).
So, there stood Paul, waiting at the end of the aisle. Emma’s friends and relatives on one side, Paul’s father and coworkers on the other. Bill offered to marry them, since Emma was atheist and priests were fucking expensive. The bridesmaids and Paul’s mates walked hand in hand down the aisle. Mr. Davidson and his wife walked down next, and Nathan winked at Paul as he passed. Finally, Paul saw Emma walk down the aisle with his father, and he lost his breath. The white dress complimented the rose flower crown that she and him were proud to say she made herself, and with her hair in a loose bun, she looked more like an angel than he’d ever seen her. When she got to the from of the alter, Paul nearly broke tradition and kissed her right then and there- but he had to hold back. The both smiled at each other while Bill went through the motions.
“Paul Matthews, you may now recite your vows,” Bill said.
Paul took a deep breath. “Can I just say how nervous I am?” The crowd laughed. “No, really!” He looked over at her. “Emma, when i met you, i was a mess. I didn’t think I was going to get better, that nothing in life mattered You came to me at the hardest point in my life, and you embraced it. You were always so gentle and patient with me, and that really meant the world to me. When I met you, the world just got so much brighter. The smells, the brightness, the colors, everything just just better. And times got hard for us, but I’m so thankful that you stuck through it all. You mean the world to me. I love you so much,”
Emma laughed an wiped away a couple of tears as Bill spoke up again. “Emma Perkins, you may recite you vows,”
“God damn, Paul, you’re a sap,” She muttered, laughing again. “Paul, I didn’t think I was worthy of love before I met you. I used to think that I’d always have to change myself for love, because that’s all I grew up knowing what love was. And frankly, I didn’t want that. The you stumbled into my life, and I realized I didn’t have to change a thing to love someone wholeheartedly. You taught me to love myself, and I hope I’ve done the same for you. Paul, I love you more than words can describe, and I hope you’ll be right there next to me for whatever the hell life wants to throw at us,”
“Paul and Emma Matthews, by the power rested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife,”
Emma beat Paul do it, dipping him and kissing like there was no tomorrow.
The rest of the reception was on the beach, and everyone had a wonderful time. Emma and Paul’s first dance was to Hozier’s Shrike, in honor of their first date. After that, a playlist of random 80s music and rave music blasted from the speakers, and everyone jumped and danced like there was no tomorrow. Even Emma’s biology teacher, Dr. Hidgens, was dancing. It went on for another three hours of so, until midnight hit, and everyone bid goodbye to the wedding. Now, all that was left was leftover cake, Emma and Paul, and the crashing waves.
“Emma Mathews?” Paul asked as he sat next to her.
“Yes, Paul Matthews?”
“Can we just fall asleep here? I want to remember this moment,”
“Of course,” Emma smiled, and they both laid down. Emma head on Paul chest, Paul holding Emma’s hand. “I love you, Em,”
“I love you too,”
They both drifted off to the sound of the waves and seagull cries.
____________
Beep, beep, beep.
The alarm clock woke Paul up. Which was strange, because unless he suddenly remembered to set an alarm, his alarm clock shouldn’t be ringing. He rolled himself out of bed, looking out the window. That was a hell of a storm last night- the power transformer almost blew out. Thank god he still had running water, because he hadn’t showered all weekend (not getting out of bed does that to a person). He walked over to the bathroom, and doused some water on his face. that’s when he noticed the ring. It was a wedding ring. The hell, Paul thought. He’d not married, he doesn’t even have a girlfriend. He took it off, and threw it into the trashcan.
He could hear his next door neighbor singing in the shower. He never sang. Odd. Who knows, maybe it was a good day for him- for what it was worth, Paul thought his voice was lovely. He turned on the radio to listen to while he made some toast. Today is March 24, 2018, Donna said.
Paul had a pang of deja vu. He felt like he was supposed to do something important today. He looked around his room, then shrugged. Everything seemed normal. Expect the wedding ring. After a moment of thought, he brushed the thought of. He was drunk last night, maybe he just got married it Bill by mistake.
Paul finished up his morning routine, and locked his apartment up. Maybe he’d stop but Beanie’s again- there was a cute barista there, and who knows, maybe he would ask her out.
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Dancing
I had a suuuperr fun time writing this chapter haha! I love writing a jealous Chat/ Adrien and we need more of him in the show plzzz. I wanttt ittt!! Anywho, lemme know if you liked this chapter <3
AO3
Chat watched Marinette with amusement. She was humming lightly to herself as she danced around her room slowly. His head poked down through her trapdoor as she still hadn’t noticed his arrival. His smile grew wider as he watched her twirl. She was so adorable.
Unable to help himself, he murmured, “Well, hello there, purrincess. Are you practicing for something?”
Marinette shrieked, whirling around to look at him with wide eyes. His lips twitched with glee as her eyes narrowed. She then placed a hand on her chest, glaring at him rather harshly. “Oh my god, what are you doing here Chat?! You nearly gave me a heart attack! I thought you were a murderer!”
“Pawlease,” he slid down to land on her bed, bouncing slightly once he rested on it. “No murderer will attack you with superheroes on the loose.”
Marinette rolled her eyes, crossing her arms when he flexed in front of her. She gave him an impatient look, tapping her foot on the floor. “And where are these superheroes because so far I’m only seeing a stray.”
“Meowch, purrincess! That hurt!” Chat pouted at her.
She shook her head at him before climbing the ladder to sit down next to him, bumping his shoulder with hers. “I’m pretty sure your ego can handle it.”
He chuckled, enjoying how close she was. This wasn’t something he usually saw as Adrien. She was typically too shy to tease him back. Leaning in close, he gave her a small smirk. “And how’s your ego doing knowing that I just saw you dancing with yourself a few moments ago?”
Marinette turned a light pink, shoving his face away. Ducking her head down, she muttered, “Shut up! You weren’t meant to just barge in and see that!”
Chat chuckled, leaning his head back as he watched her cheeks flush an adorable shade of red. Shaking his head, he asked, “So, why were you dancing, then? Got a special date for a big dance coming up?”
She lifted her head back up to give him a fiery look, her lips pursing in displeasure. “Of course not! A-at least not the date part, anyway. There is a dance coming up at another one of Chloé's parties, though. That is maybe, sorta, why I was practicing.”
His eyes lit up as Marinette chewed on her lip, tapping her index fingers together as she glanced away from him. She must be hiding something with a reaction like that. Chat gave her another small smirk, leaning back as he watched her closely. “Are you pawsitive you don’t have a date, then? You look purrety nervous for someone going alone. Especially when it seemed like you might be practicing for someone.”
She turned a darker shade of red, biting her lip as a small began to spread across her cheeks. Marinette glanced away from him, brushing a stray strand of hair away from her face. Quietly, she murmured, “No, I don’t have a date... but there is someone I want to dance with. I’ve danced with him a few times before, actually, so I don’t know why I’m still so nervous. I guess it’s because I’m always shy around him.”
His grin lessened somewhat as a strange feeling settled in his stomach. Trying to brush it away, Chat shook his head. Glancing back at her flushed cheeks, he tried to speak cheerily, nudging her shoulder lightly. “So, it sounds like you like him, then?”
Marinette’s face turned even darker and she giggled almost sheepishly. “I have for a while, actually. But it doesn’t mean anything, he only sees me as a friend.”
“He sounds like an idiot,” he muttered sullenly. He glanced away from her as he again tried to shake off the sudden mood he had gotten into.
“He is not!” she pursed her lips, smacking his shoulder. “He’s just a little oblivious! I don’t think he knows I like him.”
Chat jumped off the bed, extending his hand as he looked up at Marinette with a pair of mischievous, green eyes. After all, he had also managed to dance with her a couple of times before, albeit as Adrien. Maybe he’d be able to take her mind off of her mystery man at the party tomorrow and dance with her a few times. Nodding at her, he glanced down at his hand. “What do you say we teach this mystery boy a lesson?”
Marinette blinked down at him with her wide, blue eyes. She looked down at his hand before meeting his gaze again. She bit her lip shyly, as she murmured, “I-I don’t know... it’s kind of late.”
“Come on,” Chat jerked his head with an amused grin. “One dance won’t hurt. Besides, it’s better to dance with someone rather than all by yourself.”
Giving him a glare even as her lips twitched into a small smile, Marinette then rolled her eyes before coming down the ladder. She accepted his hand gratefully, a pink flush on her cheeks once again when he brushed a kiss against it. Her eyebrow rose as she drew her hand back. “I thought we were dancing?”
He chuckled, grasping her hand as he pulled her closer. Quietly, he murmured in her ear, “We are.”
Marinette then giggled happily as Chat swept around her bedroom floor, using his many years of ballroom dancing etiquette that his father made him suffer through. For once he was finally happy that he endured those lessons as Adrien as her bright laughter filled his ears. She was definitely his favorite dance partner. Her warm arms embraced him and he almost wished that he wasn’t in the suit so that he could feel her closer.
Slowly, once she was gasping for breath after he had led her through several dances, he stopped. He gazed down at her with a soft smile as Marinette glared up at him with a pair of glittering, happy, sapphire eyes. “I thought you said it was one dance?”
Chat shrugged, his smile growing wider as he murmured, “Purrhaps I lost track of time.”
“Mhm,” Marinette said, raising a skeptical eyebrow at him.
He simply chuckled, his eyes landing on a stray strand of hair that must have come out of one of her pigtails during their dance. With a gentle hand, he pushed the strand back behind her ear. Her eyes gazed up at his own with some shock as her lips parted. Chat looked back down at her, on the verge of something that he didn’t quite understand. Carefully, he drew his hand back, brushing lightly across her cheek as he did so.
Marinette closed her mouth, swallowing quietly as his eyes darted down before he met her gaze once again. She shook her head once before clearing her throat. “Thank you for the dance, kitty. You were right, it was good practice.”
For some reason, his heart sunk in his chest and he gave her a shaky smile. “Y-you’re welcome,” he croaked before clearing his own throat.
She nibbled on her lip and Chat opened his mouth to say something before she cut him off. “A-anyway, it’s getting late. You should probably get going. I have a big day tomorrow.”
“Yeah, I’m sure you do,” he sighed weakly, trying to again get rid of the odd mood that hit him. “Goodnight, purrincess.”
“Goodnight, Chaton,” Marinette called after him before he ducked out of her bedroom hatch.
Running a shaky hand through his hair, he shot one last look down at the trapdoor. Pursing his lips as a feeling of loss ran through him, Chat began to make his way back home. He’d have another chance to dance with her at the party tomorrow. He’d just need to make certain to grab her first. With a quick nod to himself, he settled on his plan, finally feeling excited once again.
#marichatmay2021#marichatmay#marichat#jealous chat#jealous chat noir#miraculous ladybug#miraculous#ml#mlb#fic
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The Ex’s Friend - John Deacon
I couldn’t let this idea slip and I’m thinking of making a second part? Maybe in which they’re gonna tell the others?? Lemme know if you’renup for that!
Requested by: no one
Gif is mine*
“But seriously, how long has it been since you and Bri broke up?” Tina asks while I’m making us dinner. I let out a sigh, knowing very well what she’s trying to get to.
I put a bowl of snack-veggies on the table in front of her, “It’s been six months, Ti. And no, I’m not in the mood to go out, especially not to see Smile.” I state, rather annoyed by the fact that she keeps trying to get me to see them again.
“Smile doesn’t exist anymore, sweetheart. And back to what I was trying to point out, how long has it been since you’ve seen him?” Tina asks while helping me finish up dinner and putting it down on the table.
She sits down as I let out another sigh and sit down across from her as she puts some food on our plates. “It’s been about two months since I last saw him? I’m not sure, something like that.”
We both start eating, and I must say that it’s turned out very well. “Wait, Smile doesn’t exist anymore? What d’you mean, what happened?” it only now comes through.
“Tim left a while ago, in the meantime Bri and Rog have found a new singer and a new bassist, they’re called Queen.” Tina explains and it actually makes me curious as to what their new band is like. “Why are you so scared to see him again?” her voice is barely above a whisper.
My eyes move up and meet her concerned ones. “I just- its, I know it was a mutual decision, the break up, but I’m scared that I’ll regret it once I see him again. I mean, bumping into him two months ago also made me feel a little sad and I just want to prevent myself from falling into some sort of hole.” I explain, finally letting out my feelings for the first time ever.
Brian and I dated for a year, but at the end of it we both realised we were more acting like a brother and sister to each other than lovers.
“You made that decision with good reason, (Y/N). Please, just let’s go out tonight, I’m sure it’ll be lots of fun. I miss going out with you.” I know she’s right, so th next thing I do is nod and send her a smile, “Alright, alright, we’re going out. Let’s just finish this food up and go.”
It doesn’t take us long to finish dinner and get ready quickly, we’re already on our way to the club only 30 minutes later.
The club is as full as always, people all over the place, enjoying the recently-formed band’s performance. When I look up to the stage with a beer in my hand, my eyes almost immediately meet Brian’s. His expression turns surprised for a second, but he quickly sends me a smile and a short wave through his guitar-playing.
My eyes wander to Roger, who also notices me and smiles, lifting one of his drumsticks as a hello-gesture. I smile back at him and wave shortly. As I look over to the singer, who’s voice is goddamn angel-like, I smile at how he’s getting the audience to dance and sing along with the songs, it seems like they’ve been together for quite some time as a lot of people are singing along with the lyrics.
When my eyes meet the last member, they get stuck on the guy. “Who’s the bassist?” I ask Tina and she smirks at me, “John. He’s cute, isn’t he?” and without really acknowledging the action, I nod, still staring at him and admiring how he’s completely pouring everything into the performance.
It takes me a couple of minutes to regain my composure and when I snap out of my daze I feel the heat rush to my cheeks. I immediately take a huge swig of my beer, Tina chuckling at my flustered figure. “Seems like you’ve got no problem with seeing Brian again, have you now?”
I slap her playfully, causing her to spill some of her beer over her hand. She laughs and just gives me a knowing look.
Tina takes ahold of my hand and walks us both more to the front of the stage, to get a better view. Every damn step closer, John seems to get even more handsome than from afar.
My eyes meet his and I can feel myself tense up, keeping my stare on him as he sends me a shy smile, seeming a tad uncomfortable with me staring at him so intently. I shake my head to get out of the trance and awkwardly smile at him before turning my head in a different direction, trying very hard not to let my eyes wander back to his form.
I fail multiple times at doing that, meeting is eyes on one other occasion. After they’re done with the show, the guys go to the back, but Brian walks up to me and Tina.
“It’s so good to see you! How have you been?” he asks while engulfing me in a hug, kissing my cheek gently before moving back. I smile at him, happy to find him so happy. “I’ve been good, thanks. What about yourself? I see you’ve got some new bandmembers?”
Brian explains what happened with Smile and how Queen was born. Tina is listening intently to our conversation, sending me a smile when I meet her eyes. “Let me introduce you to Fred and John, yeah? I mean, I saw you ogling John earlier, I’m sure you’re interested in meeting him, not?”
I gasp at Brian for being so blunt and forward and slap him playfully, “Goddamn you Brian! Why are you still so alert on everything I do?”
Laughter comes from both Tina and Brian’s mouths, “It doesn’t take a genius to figure that out, (Y/N), you were downright staring at the poor lad. But seriously, come with me. Tina, you too.
So, without much to say, Tina and I follow Brian to the back where we find the rest of the guys. Roger immediately jumps up and pulls my into his embrace, “Jesus, glad to see you’re still alive!”
I laugh and wrap my arms around him, “It’s good t see you, Rog. How’ve you been? Still a ladies’ man, I see?” I ask, gesturing over to two girls only a couple metres away from us, making lovey-dovey eyes at Roger.
Roger just smacks me playfully and tells me how he’s been. A little later, the singer, who I presume is called Fred- or Freddie, walks up to us and smiles, “You must be (Y/N), I’ve heard quite some things about you, darling.”
My eyes go wide in an instant as I turn to Brian and Roger, “What exactly have those two been telling you about me?” I ask as I turn back to Freddie.
“Just that you’re a very lovely lady and all just positive things, don’t worry. I’m Freddie.” he chuckles as he holds out his hand, which I take and shake, “It’s nice to meet you, Freddie.”
Last, but certainly not least, I notice John sitting in the open back of their van. Brian gives my a slight push in his direction and has a shit-eating grin on his face when I meet his eyes. I turn back to look in front of me and notice John’s quietly drinking a beer.
“Hey,” I say softly when I’m close enough to him. His head snaps up and he freezes for a second before sending me a smile, “Hello.”
I have absolutely no idea what to say and the air between us is simply awkward. “I, eh- I saw you on stage earlier. I’m (Y/N), a friend of Brian’s and Roger’s.”
John nods, “You’re Brian’s ex-girlfriend, right?” and my heart sinks at his question. So that’s what I’m known for, ‘Brian’s ex’. This way I’ll never get him to like me if he just sees me like the ex of his bandmate.
“Ehm, yeah, I am…” I mumble, looking down at my feet. To break the awkward silence around us, I decide to speak up again, “You were pretty amazing out there.”
My eyes meet his and I swear I see him blush ever so lightly, but it’s probably just my imagination. “Thanks. I’m john, by the way.”
I smile, a blush creeping on my face, “I know, Tina told me while you were on stage.” John’s eyes go wide for a second in confusion, “I asked her who you were…”
“Hey kiddo’s, we’re heading out for a drink, you two wanna join?” Roger’s voice interrupts us, fortunately, I think to myself, this got damn awkward.
John and I both turn our heads to Roger and I nod, “Yeah sure, I’m in for a drink.” I turn back to John, “What about you?”
An adorable smile enters John’s face, “Yeah, why not? let’s go.”
Not much later the boys, Tina and I are sitting in a booth in a café not far from the club. It’s crowded, but not too crowded. Brian and Tina made sure that John and I were pressed against one another, Brian on my other side and Tina on John’s other side. They were sending each other knowing glances, along with smirks, and every time I caught one of them, their smiles and smirks just increased.
“Let’s play a game.” Freddie states when we’re all set with drinks. Everyone raises their eyebrows at him, “I’m gonna make sure we’ll have enough shots and then we’ll play ‘never have I ever’.”
At first, we were all just making fun of the idea, but eventually agreed on playing the game. Freddie makes sure the shots came in and when that’s done, he is the first one to play.
“Never have I ever had sex with someone in this group.” a smirk enters his face and I roll my eyes, downing a shot along with Brian. I expect us to be the only ones, but when I look to the right and see Tina downing a shot as well, along with Roger, my eyes go wide.
I slap her playfully, moving a little closer to John in the process, “Why didn’t I know this?! When did it happen??" I notice both Brian’s, Freddie’s and John’s expression changing as well, “We were drunk, alright. We were drunk and we were horny.” Roger inquires.
“Aaaalright, next.” it’s Tina who is the most embarrassed of all, causing the others to burst into laughter. I nudge her once again, John backing slightly up when my leg bumps into his. “How was it?” I whisper to Tina.
“Alright! Never have I ever been ogling someone in this band while they were on stage, without them being your boyfriend.” Tina states, ignoring my question and immediately backfiring at me with her words. I glare at her and I can hear Brian snickering from beside me.
It takes me a while, but after a couple of minutes I finally get into it and down the another shot. “What! Who?” Roger snaps, not believing any of it.
“That’s not the game, Rog.” I snap, getting slightly annoyed and embarrassed. When the attention moves from me to some guy yelling in another part of the bar, I sneak a swift glance at John, who, I find, is already looking at me.
I shyly smile at him and he send me one back, scratching the back of his neck in the process. A while later and a lot of shots later, the six of us were walking down the road back to Freddie’s place; Freddie decided to have a big sleepover.
“You ok?” John softly asks me as the two of us walk a couple of metres behind the rest, who are all hanging on each other, shitfaced. John and me are both the least-affected ones, being only slightly tipsy.
I smile at him, “I’m alright, better than them, at least.” I tell him, pointing at Roger who’s being held by Tina and Brian, who almost keep tripping every step, and Freddie who’s dancing and singing like a maniac.
John laughs and I join him immediately, feeling so at ease with him around me. The rest of the walk is spent in silence, comfortable and easy. John and I keep stealing glances at each other and whenever I catch him doing so, I feel myself going red and blushing furiously. One time he chuckles, but he’s quite the shy one himself, so he doesn’t dare speak up about it.
One time, the moonlight shines perfectly on his face and it lights up his features even more. My gaze gets stuck on his face and I can’t help but admire his features. That’s also when I walk into a lamppost, due to not focusing on the road, but on John instead.
“Shit (Y/N)! Are you ok?!” John immediately speaks up, putting his arms around me to support me. I hiss, an immediate shot of pain shooting through my head as it starts pounding. “Fuck, that hurts.” I curse, laughing awkwardly as I clutch my hands on the spot I hit.
John lets out a laugh as well, “I can imagine. Turn around.” He commands. He’s still standing behind me, one hand on my waist and the other on my shoulder, when I realise this, I immediately feel the heat rushing up to my cheeks again. I slowly turn around and look into his eyes, which are already on me.
He smiles softly before eyeing the already black spot on my head, “Fortunately, your skin isn’t broken so it’ll just be a bruise, no need for disinfection.” He tells me while carefully brushing a strand of hair out of my face.
I nod, letting him know I understand, before closing my eyes, welcoming another wave of nausea. Within the matter of seconds that my eyes are closed, John leans in and gently presses a kiss against my cheek.
Once again heat rises to my cheeks and John has me a flustered mess. I open my eyes and when I meet his eyes I can see that he’s nervous about his previous action. To assure him that it’s alright, I lean in and peck his lips softly.
John smiles and carefully wraps one arm around my shoulders as we start walking further. “Let me walk you home. We can let Freddie know you hit your head and wanted to go home, I mean, it’s not very smart to go wild now…”
His concern makes my knees weaken and I lean my head softly on his shoulder, careful to not hurt myself in the process. “That’s a rather good idea, actually.”
John tightens his grip on me as we walk back to my house, the other’s already being god knows how much further, they didn’t even notice that I bumped into the pole, because they were too far away from us then, let alone now after we’ve stayed put for at least five minutes.
We reach my house and I let John in without hesitation, “Can I get you something to drink?” I ask him as we’ve both taken off our coats.
John chuckles shyly, “Ehm yeah, this might sound weird, but do you have some tea?” I smile, “As a matter of fact I do, and it isn’t weird, I’m in the mood for some tea now as well. Or maybe it is weird, but then at least we’re weird together, right?”
We both laugh a bit and I start making some tea. My head still pounds and I’m startled when John enters the kitchen. “Do you have an icepack or something? You should cool your head, otherwise it’ll only swell.”
I nod, my hand once again clutched on the black spot, and gesture over to the freezer. John takes out an icepack and covers it in a cloth before walking up to me. He’s standing in front of me, eyeing me with a smile on his face, “May I?”
My hand moves back down to my side, allowing John to gently press the clothed icepack against the sore spot. I hiss when it connects with the skin, but I soon realise how good it actually feels to cool it. My eyes wander back to John’s and I smile at him, “Thanks John.”
“Don’t mention it.” he smiles, but his expression quickly changes into something that almost seems sad. He moves away from me after making sure I’ve got the cloth in my own hand, walking back to the couch to take a seat before sipping his hot tea.
I frown and follow him into the living room, noticing the conflicted look on his face. I sit down on the side-table in the middle of the room, facing john, “Something wrong?”
“No.” he almost immediately snaps. Only a second later he lets out a long sigh and his eyes are intently focused on the content of his cup, “Yes…”
I lean a little forward and put my free hand on his knee, giving it a gentle squeeze, “What’s wrong?”
John lets out yet another sigh and puts his cup of tea down next to me, “I just, I like you, (Y/N). And I think you like me, too. But you’re Brian’s ex…”
Of course, that’s what’s bothering him… I finally find a nice guy, after Brian, and he makes a problem out of the fact that I’m his bandmate’s ex.
John must’ve noticed the bothered and pained expression that enters my face and speaks up once more, “I mean-”
“No,” I cut him off, “I get it, really. He’s one of your best friends and it’d be a sin to be into his ex. I understand.” I get up and walk into the small hallway to grab some painkillers for my head.
That’s when I also realise we still haven’t called the guys, I walk over from the small cabinet to the telephone and dial Freddie’s number, which he’d written down on a small paper during our time in the bar, in case I'd ever need it.
The phonecall is short and fortunately Freddie makes no big deal out of not, probably also not even realising that John’s still with me. To be honest, I’d feel better if John weren’t here right now.
“(Y/N),” John’s voice is soft as he enters the hallway. I didn’t even realise the tears that were softly making their way down my face as I put the phone back on the horn. “Hey, hey why are you crying?”
His figure is beside mine in an instant as he wraps his arms around me before gently turning me, my face is pressed against his chest as I sob into it. John softly pats the back of my head, careful not to hurt me and whispers sweet nothings into my ear.
After a couple of minutes my sobs turn into some sniffles and John gently pushes me back a little to look at me, “What’s wrong?”
I let out a breathy laugh, “I just- it’s multiple things coming out all at once, I’m afraid. Things I’ve been holding inside.”
“You can talk to me.” he says, putting his thumb and index-finger underneath my chin to make me look up to him. I send him a smile through my puffy eyes and he gestures for me to walk back to the living room.
We both go back and he guides me over to the couch, sitting down closely next to me, legs touching one another’s.
“I’ve just not been feeling very relaxed lately. It all started with my mum getting sick last year, it all went alright until last month, when she heard that she probably doesn’t have much longer than three months to go. Then came Brian and I breaking up, not much later after hearing of my mother’s illness, which was a mutual decision, but I was unsure about it for a long time, until tonight actually. I’ve thought I made the wrong decision for months. That was until I met someone else tonight, and now that guy is telling me that the fact that I’m his bandmate’s ex is bothering him.” I rant and I know John wants to say something, but I beat him to it.
“I know it’s not your fault and I understand where it’s coming from, John. It’s just that I really like you and it hurts, because I know you like me too, but you don’t even want to give it a try.” After I’m done with my rant, fresh tears are making their way down my face.
John hurriedly puts his hands on my face, wiping away the tears, “Don’t cry, it’ll only increase your headache.”
I let out a breathy, choking-like, laugh. “I’m sorry, for making you feel this way. I’m just not sure what Brian will think… I don’t want to lose my position in the band.”
“I know, but I’m sure Brian doesn’t mind. He even pushed me to talk to you, didn’t you notice?” I tell him, smiling fondly at Brian’s eagerness for me to talk to John. “It’s just that ever since Bri and I broke up, I’ve never had any luck with guys and now there’s this amazing guy, sitting right in front of me, and I don’t want things to go wrong again.”
John smiles at my words, “You’re right, I am an amazing guy, thanks for pointing that out.” I scoff and slap his chest playfully, “Ouch!” he acts as though he’s very hurt, but smiles at me and pulls me into his embrace, backing his face slightly to look down at mine, smiling at me as he brings his lips closer to mine.
His lips are soft against mine and it feels so much better than the quick peck from earlier. I sigh into him and my hands rest on his chest as his hands are now cupping my face, stroking my cheeks gently.
We break apart, both in the need of air. When we regain our breathing, we smile at each other and once more he throws his arms around me, pulling me down on the couch with him as he’s now lying underneath me.
I snuggle into him and when he notices a duvet on the armrest of the couch, just above his head, he grabs it and places is delicately around our tangled forms.
One of my arms move around his waist, drawing small circles on the skin right above his waistband, his shirt being moved up a bit. John gently places his hands on my sides, “Even if he isn’t ok with it at first, I’ll be sure to convince him it won’t change anything. Because I won’t let this, I won’t let you, go that easily.”
A huge smile enters my face and when I look up to meet his eyes, I notice John is very much mirroring my expression, “You’re one of a kind, John Deacon.”
“And my kind is especially for you.”
#John Deacon#John Deacon x reader#John Deacy#Deacy#Deaky#John#Queen#Bassist#Bass#Disco Deacy#Disco Deaky#one shot#John Deacon one shot#John Deacon fanfic#John Deacon fanfiction#John Deacon fan fiction#John Deacon imagine#Fanfiction#fanfic#fan fiction#imagine#queen x reader#queen fanfiction#queen imagine#queen fanfic#queen fan fiction#queen one shot
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Not Gon Cry | Chapter 4
PREVIOUS CHAPTERS — Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three
CHARACTERS — Black! Reader X M’Baku X T’Challa
CONTENT — Trials Of Black Love, Adultery, Broken Vows and Marriage, Humiliation and Manipulation
PLOT — Based off of the song, “Not Gon Cry” by Mary J. Blige on her Share My World album. This is strictly based off of the lyrics, but a little twist. In addition, I STRONGLY suggest listening to this song on REPLAY while reading to get further feels, but hey..
NARRATIVE — “T’Challa stop.” You giggled, as the King of Wakanda continued to poke at your waist as you finished scrambling the eggs in a frying pan.
Pausing, “If you would please get the children and wash them up for breakfast that would extremely helpful.” You suggested, as you briefly turned yourself to look him up into his eyes.
Holding his hands up in playful defense he backed out of the kitchen as he went to get the kids.
It had been seventy-two hours since T’Challa had read your daughter a bedtime story and ever since then, the King of Wakanda has devoted his time in being an active participant in your daily routine.
From having his guards, Okoye and Ayo bring you food from the market to assisting you throughout the day to even watching the kids when you went to visit Gorilla City to discuss your separation.
The man was like a bee chasing honey as he was there for your every beck and call. He was becoming an important aspect of your life as you two started to bond and spend quality time with eachother over the course of the past two days.
You never would have thought that the man who defeated your ex-husband at Warrior Falls would have you cheesing like a kid and candy store. You could still recall the first time you meet T’Challa at the annual Spring Festival in the royal garden.
Hired as an international publicist for Wakanda after moving over from America and meeting M’Baku. You could actively remember the rise and fall of the dip in his walk as he approached you to introduce himself.
Hearing the footsteps of your little ones jogging down the hallway, you snapped out of your daydream just in time as you felt the familiar body press against your legs.
“—Goodmorning, umama!” You heard Zuko exclaim, as he smiled brightly at you while he squeezed you.
Turning off the stove you abruptly dropped to your knees before returning the hug as you took it a step further and showed your motherly affection as you showered kisses all over his cocoa complexion.
“Ugh, umama.” He groaned, as he desperately tried to break out of your arms. Giggling at his antics you released your hold and stood back up and started fixing your children’s plates.
Picking up two plates from the counter you turned your abdominal to move until abruptly felt another body brush up against yours. Already knowing who it was you cocked your head back spotting T’Challa as the corners of his mouth were turned upward as he came up behind you grabbing two more plates.
Feeling a smile toy against your lips you sucked your lips inside in a attempt to keep the grin from forming.
“Kids! Y’all need to eat up, you guys already know that I’m dropping you all at your utata’s house and I need y’all to go there with full belly’s.”
“Anyways, when I do leave y’all with your utata I need y’all to be on your best behavior meaning absolutely no back talk, Mandla. Don’t think that doesn’t go for y’all two, Cebisa and Zuko.” You pointed out, with a stern look before you replacing it with a gentle one.
Coming up behind you once more you felt a heated breath blow against your ear as it spoke, “Lighten up on them.” T’Challa whispered, before lightly grazing your forearm with his thumb as he placed the last plate on the table.
Feeling your intake of oxygen hitch in your pharynx at the sudden touch of devotion, you tried to play it off by closing your mouth and allowing goosebumps to cascade over your smooth chestnut pigmentation.
Letting the light quiver rattle throughout your body, you briefly closed your eyelids while you attempted to conceal your rapid wavelengths of emotions.
It was pitiful watching your sensitive behavior flip whenever he came around. Feeling another viewer look on your shook state you whirled your head only to spot Zuko staring up at you with a grin full of bread crumbs.
Playfully rolling your eyes, you took a seat infront of the plate with a generous portion of food and started digging in after praying. Hearing the smacking of lips as you ate you instinctively darted your eyes over at Mandla getting ready to chew him out when you saw him chewing with his mouth closed. That was when your ears led you to someone much closer as you turned your head to the left spotting T’Challa smacking on his pieces of bacon.
“Is my food that good to the King of Wakanda?” You asked, with your vocal cords laced thick in sarcasm.
Flicking his head up, a closed smile graced his lips as he heard your question before he scanned over your witty expression.
Taking a sip of his apple juice he swallowed his food, “I must compliment you on your cooking. This is one of the best dishes I have had in my entire existence, I must have more.” He teased.
As you collected your children’s empty plates along with his and yours you briefly paused, “I don’t think Queen Mother and your kitchen staff will agree with your statement, but thank you.” You smirked, before throwing a comical look over your shoulder at him as you walked deeper into the kitchen.
“T’Challa can you make sure the kids are packed or are you leaving right now?” You asked, as you bent down putting the dirty dishes in the dishwasher.
“I guess I can hang around for a few more minutes since your asking me so nicely, mnandi.” He replied.
Huffing out in irritation you stood back up seeing the kitchen table clear of your children and T’Challa indicating he followed your request.
Instead of worrying about your kids you made yourself busy as you sprayed and sanitized the table and swept the floor. By the time you were tossing the dirt in the trash can you heard the timid footsteps of your children as they walked around the corner with looks of grief and misery. Mandla held a combative appearance while Zuko had an optimistic look and Cebisa had a melancholy expression with tears pooling up in your eyes.
Your baby girl was going through it the hardest.
Scurrying towards her you swiftly got on your knees as you pulled her in a tight grip once you threw your arms around her miniature frame. Hearing her weak sniffle was all it took before she started to soak your mauve colored strap dress. Rocking her in a soothing manner in hopes of ceasing her blaring cries failed as it amplified and started to hurt your eardrums from her wails. “—lemme give it a try.” The masculine voice suggested.
Peeking your head up you saw T’Challa standing next to you as he stared at you with optimistic eyes.
Sighing you nodded before pulling your arms away from your daughter and stood up only for your spot to be fulfilled by the King of Wakanda.
“What’s the matter, mnandi?” He questioned, as he sat on his knees looking at Cebisa in the eyes.
“I-I don’t want to leave my umama.” She hiccuped, as tears kept flowing. Exhaling in grief T’Challa wiped her tears in a similar motion from the night when you were crying in the kitchen a few days ago. “It’s going to be okay Cebisa, these few days are gonna pass by like this.” He reassured, with the emphasized on the quickness of time with a snap of his finger.
With her tears halting as she blinked up at him with wide eyes she said, “Really? Then I get to come back to umama?” She asked, in great astonishment.
“—then you get to come back to umama.” T’Challa repeated, with a grin before swiftly tickling her sides making her infectious laugh echo through the home.
“So, your gonna be a big girl for your umama?” He asked, before momentarily turning his head as his eyes meet yours. “Yes!” She exclaimed, before she excitedly jumped up and down with joy. Gleaming at the sight of your cheerful baby girl you clasped your hands together, “Whew, now that, that’s settled it is time for us to hit the road children.” You announced, catching their attention as you slid on a fur coat over your shoulders and the thick scarf around your neck.
Soon enough you were standing outside watching your offspring’s bags being placed in the vehicle by no one other than T’Challa, himself. If he was gonna be around why not put him to use, you shrugged.
“Thank you for everything T’Challa. Kids!” You called out, gaining their attention once more. “Tell T’Challa your farewells now, we must be in Gorilla City before three.” You stated, before you watched your three kids embrace the King of Wakanda individually.
Last to pull away Mandla helped strap in his younger siblings in before he slid into his own seat doing the same. Shutting the door to the car T’Challa stared at you watching you fan your face dramatically with the use of your hand. “—aren’t you gonna say goodbye to your King?” He taunted, making your face compress.
Chuckling at your translated face T’Challa said, “You know I’m just joking around.” as he smiled. Smacking your lips you sauntered towards him before briefly wrapping his arms around his warm figure.
His scent of faithfulness, ginger and serenity invaded your nostrils as your face hastily pressed against his handwoven dashiki. He damn near made your knees weak as his scent traveled throughout you from your beating heart to your frontal lobe and your dripping hole. You couldn’t help but fall for his genuine charisma and presence; it was pathetic.
You haven’t felt this way since you were eighteen years old and had a bulky man towering over you as he whispered sweet nothings into your ear instead of barking at fellow warriors. Boy, did the times change.
Detaching yourself from him to prevent further hardening of your nipples, you took a step back.
“—This is a see you later hug.” He affirmed. “When are you coming back?” He questioned, as he leaned his arm against the car.
“Hopefully before five.” You replied, before T’Challa nodded his head. “Alright, well I’ll see you tonight.” He stated, before taking a step closer to you.
Breaking your personal space he swiftly planted a tender kiss on your cheek; the one actors in French movies would do when greeting and bidding farewell to a close friend or relative. Conflicted on his actions again you decided not to press the issue and got into the car and prayed that your children didn’t see your goodbye with T’Challa and start up another question and answer session. Hearing them chatter amongst themselves you thanked the heavens above before feeling the vehicle startup as the journey back to Gorilla City begun.
Minutes have passed since the ride back up to the Jabariland began. Currently hugging your children goodbye as you stood infront of the palace foyer you kissed them on their heads before leaving them with a warm hug and words. “Be good to your utata.” You declared, before you raised up to your natural height.
Standing up getting ready to pivot you heard a grumbling voice called out to you, “Hold up Y/N!”.
Inhaling a deep breath you knew who it belonged to as you were keen to that voice for many years. “What is it M’Baku?” You asked, as your voice strained from the morning, but defensive just in case he wanted to be on some bullshit.
“Can I just talk to you?” He pleaded.
“What could you possibly say to me that you didn’t the past six months? Better yet, what could you say that didn’t shout in our meeting with the council?” You grilled, your defensive tone already on lock.
Your words disintegrating his hard facade he took a deep breath before opening his mouth, “Would you just have a word with me, please? There will be no elders and no advisors just us.” He promised.
Bringing your hand up to your head you massaged your temple with your fingers before nodding. “Ok.” You agreed, as you followed him to his throne room.
M’Baku opened the wooden door as you walked in before standing in the middle of the room with your arms crossed. “Will you not have a seat?” He asked, with his arm stretched out towards the empty chairs.
“I don’t plan on being here long.” You snarled.
Huffing, “Very well then, the reason I called you in here is to tell you that I have thought long and hard about your demand for alimony and basically cutting to the chase I’m going to pay the full amount.”
Not containing the smug look on your face a grin broke out on your face as you felt the stress evade from the good news. “If you don’t mind me asking what got through to your thick skull?” You inquired.
“Eh, just came to my senses.” He shrugged.
Deciding not to press the issue you took that answer and left Gorilla City before arriving back to the heart of the country. Returning back to your home the sun was starting to set indicating that you made it back to your house just in time.
Unlocking your door you tossed your belongings down on the counter before you throwing the furs on the couch revealing your two strap dress before you plopped down next to it.
However, your tranquility didn’t last soon as you heard the ringing of your doorbell. Mumbling out curses underneath your breath you abruptly yanked opened the door, “What?!” You shouted out, as your patience wore thin. Your face dropping as you gazed at a coolheaded T’Challa who screwed his face up at your livid outburst. “Bad timing, because I can come back tomorrow or the day after.” He suggested, with his thumb gesturing back towards the path he came.
Giggling at his fumbling with words, “—No, no your fine.” You said, before you walked back towards your living room. Locking the door behind him, the King of Wakanda trailed behind you to the living room.
Watching your slumped body on the couch T’Challa spoke up, “Long day?” He asked. Before you could respond your stomach decided to make it’s debut once it started growl lowly.
His laughter dying down from your tummy he said, “—Do you want me to cook you something?”
Mumbling out in appreciation you dug your head further into the couch pillows in attempt to catch some shut-eye.
In the meantime, T’Challa was standing in your kitchen shifting throughout your cabinets as he searched for what to feed your grumbling belly.
Within an hour, you felt soft nudges on your shoulder causing you to turn away in attempt to continue your nap. Hearing a familiar laugh you heard T’Challa say, “Y/N dinner is ready.” as he pushed his palms against your other shoulder in attempt to break you out of your sleepy trance.
Moaning out as you flicked your eyelids opened, you mumbled out, “Okay.” as you stood up and stretched out your aching back. “C’mon now.” T’Challa said, as he was in the kitchen placing spaghetti onto a plate before he placed slices of garlic bread on the side.
Standing back watching the masculine man flow through your kitchen with a delicate touch sent your nerves everywhere and liquid dripping in your core.
You had to get a grip on your hormones, but seeing as though you haven’t had a good dick appointment in a months due to the Great Gorilla’s busy schedule you couldn’t help but succumb to his appearance.
Exhaling your tempting thoughts and sensitive hormones away you decided it would be best to indulge in the spicy aroma. “—Where did you learn how to cook like this? It’s delicious.” You raved, as your jaws were still full of the cooked noodles.
Chuckling at your behavior T’Challa spoke, “Queen Mother is an excellent teacher.” before bringing his food up to his plump lips. Swallowing your food you nodded at his answer, “Well someday your gonna have to show me what else you can cook.” You smirked, before taking a sip of water.
“The same goes for here, your gonna have to cook for me as well because don’t act like you can’t throw down in the kitchen.” He said, before slightly hitting your forearm with his elbow.
Only giggling in response the rest of the dinner was filled with small talk. Soon enough once it was over you two placed the dishes in the dishwasher before heading over to the living room. Flopping down on the couch you made yourself comfortable as you turned on the television.
Sitting next to you T’Challa spoke up, “How are things going with you an M’Baku?” He asked, as he watched the lights on the television reflect on your content face.
A smile spreading across your face you said, “I didn’t tell you, he agreed to pay the alimony.” You informed, as your smile got wider if it was even possible.
Grinning at your shift in attitude T’Challa hugged you as you did the same. “That’s great.” He said, as he slowly pulled away but still embracing you as your arms were still clutching onto one another’s.
Licking your lips, “Yea, it means I’m one step closer to being official separated.” You grinned, before you gradually started feeling the butterflies from this morning reappear even stronger.
His stares only intensified as you continued to talk about the joys of finally being free. Your words soon fell on deaf ears as T’Challa gaze got trapped in your beauty as his eyes observed every inch of your face from your thick perfectly arched eyebrows, buttery skin and eventually onto your thick set of lips.
Tired of being avoided from his prominent stares you glared at him before you spat out, “—Your not even paying attention, so imma shut up since my your obviously distracted.” before rolling your eyes.
“What is it? Is there something on my face?” You grumbled out, as you carelessly touched your face.
“No, no your just very gorgeous Y/N.” T’Challa said, as he took ahold of your hand that was against your face. Squeezing it gently, T’Challa swiftly leaned into your personal space and pressed a soft kiss on your lips. Temporarily taking away your natural function to get oxygen to your lungs for a second as your breath hitched before you mocked his actions.
This kiss wasn’t just no peck or some basic kiss a couple did when they were in a rush, oh hell no. His kiss was like syrup on a hot plate of fresh pancakes. His kiss was like cashing a check at the bank, like a colorful sky during the sunset setting in the horizon.
Yep, his kiss was all that and a bag of chips.
Once you pressed against his moist lips he hummed out in great pleasure at the contact. Wanting to taste the cherry scented chapstick on your lips, the King of Wakanda took the lead as he took the kiss one step further as you abruptly felt his slick tongue slide in your mouth as your head moved in sync with him.
The man was making your damn knees weak again only with the touch of his tongue. Shaking off your explicit thoughts you snapped back into reality and continued bumping tonsils with the heavily scented man sitting before you.
“—Fuck.” You cried out, as you felt him starting to travel his wet kisses down your clavicle. Your spine enjoying the light touches jolted your body upward as it adorned T’Challa’s kisses. Suddenly feeling his finger fumble around with the bottom of your dress touching your knees he slowly lifted up the material.
Instantly rolling your pelvic from the gesture your best friend between your legs enjoyed the sensation of the pressure against it before you opened up your eyes. “Your an eager one aren’t you, usana.” T’Challa whispered, before he boldly reached under the dress.
His finger searching for the material crossing your hipbone stopped as the touch was missing; you weren’t wearing any panties.
Winking up at him you flashed him an enticing look before he reflected the same look before he roughly slid your dress up towards your pelvic bone. Biting his lip he dropped his eyes to take a peek at your bare pussy before he swiftly dropped down.
Feeling his textured hands traveling to the back of your thighs as he lifted them and pressed them far back making them touch your chest giving him full access of your vagina which made you shiver once you felt the cool air hit your prized possession.
Nothing was sacred anymore as he could visually see each fold, the drop of liquid threatening to fall to the little birthmark on your inner thigh as you opened yourself up to him in more ways and than one.
Emotionally, mentally now physically and eventually spiritually. The King of Wakanda managed to be the becan of light throughout this journey. Now he was gonna take your trust further as he now stared at your moist vagina. “—You ready, sithandwa sa?”
TRANSLATIONS —
“Mnandi.” means sweetheart “Usana.” means baby “Sithandwa sa.” means my love “Umama.” means mother “Utata.” means father “Mandla.” means to have power “Cebisa.” means to give advise “Zuko.” means to give glory
AUTHOR’S NOTE — Guess who was up ALL night writing, me. The story just kept flowing out of me and before I knew it, it was 6 am.
Anyways, at this point I see this series stopping at Chapter Five or Six, lmao. The fact that this was only meant to be a imagine is crazy. Y’all really made this story your own, I’m happy about that.
TAGLIST — @blackpanthersmut @leahnicole1219 @minyara-kun @lalapalooza718 @mysticbrownie @siriuslycollins @therevolution-willbelive @hutchj @xbreakingmidnightx @texasbama @thiccdaddy-mbaku @muse-of-mbaku @blue-ishx @destinio1 @ursapharoh05 @purplemuse @cmonkillmonger @drsunshine97 @royallyprincesslilly @ashanti-notthesinger @barely-emily @halfrican-heat @theshadesofbrown @lildashofmelanin @sisterwifeudaku @mbakuwifey @autumn242 @inlovewithmakeupcomicsanimelove @hold-me-like-a-heart-beat @airis-paris14 @s0eul @taehyungsmelanin @soulmates8 @inlovewith3 @dakotapaigelove @blowmymbackout @504queen @sweetpeachjones @niggarachi15 @madamslayyy @everybodylovesmormon @ambthegamer @jecourt @lewatigress @randomassfandomwho @inlovewith3 @pananegra @brittyevans
#BabygirlOfWakanda#Black Panther#Black Panther Fanfiction#Chadwick Boseman#Winston Duke#T’Challa#M’Baku#T’Challa X Reader#M’Baku X Reader#T’Challa Fanfiction#M’Baku Fanfiction#Not Gon Cry
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Homeward Bound: Chapter 13
Steve Harrington x Henderson!Reader, Billy Hargrove x Henderson!Reader
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 |
Chapter Summary: a rush of fate brings two souls together...
Word Count: 6,946
Warnings: swearing, cheating, generally angst and fluff
Author’s Note: please send all complaints to @moonstruckhargrove-she wanted an update and I got you girl
Permanent Tag: @hotstuffhargrove @denimjacketkisses @hargrovesgoldilocks @hipsmcgee @lilmissperfectlyimperfect @casaharrington @thechickvic
Series Tag: @baebee35 @moonstruckhargrove @kurt-nightcrawler @thoughstofaredhead @fear-the-reaper115 @estheflowergirl @alex--awesome--22 @onemorekissisallittakes
“Jesus you need to stop doing that!” you cried, smacking Steve in the chest roughly, earning a hearty laugh and a warm smile that stirred something in your chest and made it hard to keep a smile off your face.
“Why would I? It’s fun!” he chuckled in response, turning to look at you fully, his eyes widening as he looked you over, making you both shy and hopeful. “Your hair!” he breathed.
“Yeah, I cut it all off.” You replied, running your fingers through it. “Is it bad?”
“No! It’s cool!” he cried, ruffling it like an older brother, making your heart drop in your chest for reasons you couldn’t exactly explain. All you knew is that that little gesture made you feel incredibly small and childish. You wished your hair was long and sleek again.
“Whatever…” you muttered, trying to hide the bitterness in your voice “Shouldn’t you be at work or something? It’s like the middle of the afternoon.”
“How much crime do you really think is in Hawkins now?” he mused with a smirk “Besides, I wanted to pop by here before I go to see Joyce and the kids.” He turned his attention to Jonathan, offering him a ‘hey man’ and a stiff hug. The two were never exactly close and while time healed the wounds shared between him and Nancy, Jonathan held grudges. Specifically, he held grudges over mistakes atoned for in junior year; Nancy ‘the slut’ Wheeler still rang loud and clear in his head at even the thought of Steve Harrington.
“I’d wait, not a great time, ‘specially for a guy in full uniform.” Jonathan said, earning a tight nod from Steve, who turned back to the crowd awkwardly. All of the mothers in the room were watching him like wolves, their teeth practically glistening behind their painted smiles. Karen looked absolutely murderous in her jealousy; now seeing the inherent value of marrying her daughter into a rich family with a successful son now that her daughter was married to a less than successful son of an only recently successful family. Likewise, your mother saw the value in Steve and was watching you two with proverbial hearts in her eyes, a dreamy expression on her face.
“So…where are you two going tonight then?” your mother asked giddily, practically smirking at you and Steve.
“What is she talking about?” Steve whispered to you, maintaining a polite smile towards the moms.
You shook your head, shrugging softly as you turned to your mother “We’re not going anywhere. I meeting Jenny Stein for dinner tonight.” You said, watching Steve’s face drop as the words left your lips.
“Didn’t you already see her this trip?” you mother sighed bitterly as Karen did her damndest to hold back a snicker, obviously excited about your seeming rejection of him.
“Yeah, but I’m meeting with her, Marvin Rubio, and a few other people. The leftovers, you know?” you replied vaguely, waving your hand through the list.
“Well, I’m that will be very nice, Y/N, are you leaving on Sunday or Monday?” your mother asked testily.
“Currently my flight is booked for Monday; I can change it to Sunday if that’s a problem, though.”
“Hmm…well I would love to have to till Tuesday, but I’ll settle for Monday.”
“Well…I don’t know if I’ll go that far, I do have to go home eventually. I have to go back to work.”
“It’s alright darling.”
You could feel Steve’s eyes burning into the back of your head and you couldn’t help but glance back at him. His expression was one of hurt and burning anger; he looked as though you’d committed a giant sin against him. Maybe that would’ve been his expression if you’d cheated on him rather than the other way around. You sent him a small smile, knowing that he knew that you were lying to your mother. It made your heart ache, because you knew you had hurt him. And that thought made you feel angry; because Steve never felt that pain. When you caught him and Elaine-god you hated her name-he might’ve felt bad for a minute, at least he pretended to, and then he and Elaine became an item and you were left on the side, unofficially broken up and even more broken than you were before. When he brought her home for Christmas, the last year you ever came home for the holiday, you’d just made up your mind to drop out of college and watching them flirt and flail about, you made up your mind about Steve: he was not a good man, like everyone thought he was, he was a heartless beast inside the body of a good guy.
You glanced superficially at the clock, not really checking the time but showing the group that you were checking the time “I should get going, I have to call my boss and clear up a few things before he gets in too deep with the new pile.” You announced, picking up your purse off the couch and ruffling Holly’s hair, who’d zoned out long ago.
“Are you sure? We’ve hardly even seen you!” Karen complained “I wanna hear about your new book your mother’s been talking about, apparently it’s expected to be a hit.”
You rolled your eyes “I haven’t written anything under my own name yet Karen, although my writing is making waves. Georgia Kane’s latest trash bestseller, Not so Miss. America, was a great success on my part. Did you read it? It’s your genre. Anyway, writing that got me a raise.” You replied, watching both your mother and Karen falter, each embarrassed for different reasons. “But other than that I’m not working with much buzz.”
When neither woman responded, you pulled your bag onto your shoulder and gave Nancy and Jonathan’s shoulders tight squeezes. “Alright, I’m gonna head out. I’ll leave the car with you, ma. See you all tomorrow!” you said, waving politely to the crowd and heading quickly out the door.
The sun had hit its peak in the sky, trying in vain to beat down the cool breeze gently rustling the leaves, weather that didn’t exactly match the season, but was a welcome change to the hot, sticky weather you’d endured during your stay. You were more than happy to walk in this weather, glad to take in the sunlight and cool breeze for awhile.
Unfortunately, Steve had followed you out.
“Lemme give you a lift, Henderson.” He called from the porch and you resisted the urge to turn around to respond to him. He hadn’t called you by your last name the whole trip. This was not a good sign.
“That’s alright, Harrington, I’d like to walk.” You replied, following suit and continuing down the driveway and onto the sidewalk. That should’ve been the end, but like a happy go-lucky golden retriever, he followed behind you, nipping at your heels.
“Then lemme walk you, I wanna talk.”
“Your car’s here.” You stopped dead in your tracks, finally turning to look at him and take in his concerned expression. “It would be a waste to walk all the way back to my place and then come here again. You wanted to visit with them, so stay. I can call you later at the station.”
“No you won’t,” he replied, shutting you up instantly “So I’m gonna walk with you for awhile.” You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat and continuing, much slower, down the path.
“What’s up?” you asked shyly, keeping your eyes on your shoes rather than him.
“Why are you going out with Hargrove tonight?” he asked shortly, crossing his arms over his chest, watching you carefully.
“What makes you think I am?”
“Come off it, Henderson, if you’re gonna reuse a lie, don’t do it in front of the person who made it up.” You sighed, nodding softly; he got you there.
You looked up, meeting his eye for the first time as you turned off the Wheeler’s street “I’m seeing him because…he asked? And I wanted to. And that’s that.” You said.
“That’s not much of a reason.”
You huffed “Do you have deep reasons when you go out with a girl beyond wanting to?” Steve didn’t reply, only sighing softly, shaking his head, angering you further.
“No, you don’t. Cause most of the time, you don’t need a deep reason to go out with someone. So don’t hold me to higher standard than everyone else. I’m no better.”
“It’s selfish.” Steve told you harshly, causing you to stop dead in your tracks.
“What?” you fumed, voice no higher than a whisper.
“He’s in love with you, you said it yourself. And you don’t love him. You’re getting his hopes up.” Steve replied quickly; aggressively, angrily.
“And you haven’t done anything selfish in your life.” You bit out callously
Steve narrowed his eyes, almost sneering at you “What are you implying?”
“Did you ever love Elaine?” you snapped, silencing him immediately simply with your steely gaze. “Did you ever love me?” you pressed wishing your voice didn’t crack and your throat didn’t close.
“Y/N…” he replied and in an instant broke your heart with the heavy sigh he breathed out instead “It’s complicated.”
“Yeah,” you said, shaking your head, holding your lips firm to keep the lower one from wobbling pathetically. “Yeah no that’s not an answer. And you never have an answer. So don’t ask me for one now.”
You ran off before Steve could give you a response, before he could even try. You were home and inside before you ever realized you’d ran, your heart pounding in your heaving chest as you brushed your hair away from your eyes as you tried to calm yourself and keep the tears from flowing in rivers down your cheeks.
This was the proof you need. Billy was the right choice. Steve was so desperately wrong it was insane, you couldn’t believe you thought that…no, no you never thought that. If you’d thought that, then you liked him. And you didn’t like him. Ever. Billy was a better choice-sure he was both too much and not enough emotionally, but that can be trained out. Just because he didn’t speak your love language doesn’t mean he couldn’t learn. And this date would prove it.
You found yourself growing more and confident in the idea as you went through your day. You called your agent, something you didn’t think you could do and told him the honest truth-that you couldn’t take the novel to publish if you didn’t have the blessing of the people who inspired it, and he told you the honest truth that if you didn’t give it a definitive ending, no one would buy it. That was, surprisingly, an okay thing to hear and you accepted the information easily.
Of course, ending the novel seemed impossible. Because the story itself didn’t have an ending, not really. Sure, the trial ended the labs and sent people to jail, but the scars remain. And you couldn’t pretend that they didn’t have an effect on your life now. You weren’t ashamed to admit that the main character was based on yourself and your own life in Hawkins. You couldn’t write the story from anyone else’s point of few, it wouldn’t feel whole. But that gave you a problem because your story didn’t have an ending. You were a broken person, you didn’t sugar coat that, you weren’t the same girl you were even five years ago. But that wasn’t an ending, that was just a place to stop. And you didn’t want to build one whole cloth. You didn’t know how to even justify that to yourself, but you had to and so you would.
You just wouldn’t do it now.
Instead, you decided to look as effortlessly pretty as you could. You didn’t have much makeup on you; you hadn’t planned to be seen so often, so you trekked out to the nearest drugstore and found a tiny packet of eye shadow that complimented your eyes and, out of some old instinct of preteen-hood, a pearly pink nail polish. You spent the rest of the day trying to find the beauty your mother swore was there under the sneer and sarcasm of your teen years. By the end of your hard work, you’d found an older looking girl with clear eyes lined and painted in soft shadows and framed by enhanced eyebrows and a soft smile brightened with a rosy blush and glossy lips.
You felt, for the first time in the whole trip, intentionally pretty.
Beauty was something, you felt, was not something that was felt consistently. You found yourself trying harder and harder to focus on other things-your mind, your actions, your work, your loves-rather than your looks. You’d spent so long during your teen years worrying and thinking about your looks and beauty and now, as you’d aged and grown up, it felt sillier and sillier, a coping mechanism of youth you didn’t need to use anymore. But the feeling, as we all seemed to cause it, of ugliness swept you up sometimes. Some days, you woke up bright eyed and, objectively, pretty, but other days that creeping feeling of self-loathing that could only be attributed to the reflection in the mirror. You hadn’t put any effort into your appearance during the trip thus far, save for brushing your hair and putting on the barest amount of makeup possible, and only because your mother was insistent on it. You didn’t feel the need until now.
Now, you felt as though you had someone to impress, to put in the same level of work that you were certain Billy was putting in himself. It was a mutual, shared primping process done before any date. You knew the process well, the process seemingly become more and more important as you entered your twenties. You couldn’t really compare this to anyone else-you didn’t have many friends in San Diego and the closest female friend you had was your neighbour Stella, who despite not being in a relationship, hadn’t been on a date in three years, not since her son’s father ran off when she announced the pregnancy. You didn’t know if the process was a product of aging or just something expected of you as you aged; but you did note that every girl your age was trying to top every other girl around you. Maybe that was just California.
Still, when seven o’clock rolled around, you found yourself watched the front lawn with baited breath from the bathroom window, looking for signs of the tow truck or, hopefully, the Camaro since you missed it so much. You were excited, which was odd since you kind of hated him after the whole ‘I love you’ thing, and the feeling buzzed in your veins and coloured your cheeks.
But the feeling began to die as seven turned to seven fifteen and then to seven thirty. Finally, you just decided to march yourself downstairs and out the front door. You knew where he lived and if he was pulling some payback sort of shit, you could easily find him and cut off his dick. He’d deserve it too.
“I thought you were meeting for seven?” your mother called as you headed for the front door.
You stifled a sigh “We pushed the time back to eight for Marvin, he’s working late at the restaurant.” You lied, tossing your purse over your shoulder and slipping on your shoes.
“It’s so nice that Marvin still works for the family business, especially after his selfish siblings ran off to do other things.” You mother mused aloud and you turned back to look at her, noting the flour in her hair and the large mixing bowl and wooden spoon in front of her, a model image of fifties wifehood minus the poodle skirt and beehive hairdo.
“I guess it’s nice that his siblings have a backup plan though…in case everything goes to shit for them, you know?” you replied with a shrug.
“That’s exactly my point! The Rubio’s are excellent planners! I wish I had a business to pass down to you if this whole writing thing doesn’t pan out.” Your mother sighed and you stifled an eye roll, not wanting to offend her.
“Eh, I can always marry rich.” You said, earning a snicker from your mother. You decided not to look into that response and head out, scanning the street from your porch before jumping down the steps and heading down to the end of your street with arms crossed over your chest and teeth clenched in a hardened scowl. You couldn’t stand anyone else being late, despite yourself preferring to be a little late to everything, a hypocritical stance you held onto with pride. You, with great annoyance, began the slow trek up to the only place you thought he could be hiding.
“Hey baby, where’d you think you’re going?” you heard someone holler and you turned to look out towards the road, eyes catching the rusted brown truck that had tried to pass you in the opposite direction, and Billy Hargrove leaning out the passenger side window, tongue waggling out of his mouth and eyes leering. His hair was slicked with sweat, grease swiped on his forehead and was most likely coating his hands, and while you couldn’t deny that he was certainly attractive, the gap between your levels of effort was a canyon rather than a simple pothole. It was a significant let down, yo0u felt as though your efforts had gone to waste. Still, you put on a smirk and turned, hands planting themselves on your hips jutted to one side.
“You’re late.” You mused, watching him with a twinkle in your eye and a bemused expression.
You were always a fairly good actor.
“You gonna hold it against me?” Billy countered smoothly, watching for a change in your eyes.
Although with Billy as your audience, it wasn’t hard.
“Maybe…” you giggled, sashaying over to the car and pulling the handle and nearly knocking him out of the car to your feet. He pulled himself in, sliding across the bench and back into the technical driver’s seat, patting the seat next to him for you to take. You tried to ignore the sheer amount of garbage piled up at your feet as you smiled at him. He revved the weak engine, speeding off as fast as he could, which wasn’t very fast, and you giggled the same way you did when you were a teenager, grabbing onto the handgrip to keep you steady despite your lack of seatbelt, giving Billy an unneeded ego boost.
You didn’t know where you were going, but that was par for the course with Billy; he did things on the fly and that meant flying by the seat of your pants and not questioning too much. You used to not mind, but now it planted a worried seed in your stomach. You liked to be in control, to be in charge of your own location and destination. And while you were in charge of where you were, you weren’t in charge of where you were headed and that worried you to no end.
But you didn’t bother asking. You’d only get vague nothing answers and that would only upset you more. And besides, you knew Hawkins well enough to escape any situation he could drag you into, and you knew the highways well enough to get back into town if you had to jump out of the moving car. God, Hawkins brought out the survivalist in you.
You were pleasantly surprised when he pulled up to Benny’s, as you still insisted on calling it, although you weren’t impressed by his parking job, taking over almost three parking spots with his truck, claiming that it was a necessity to keep the thing safe as it wasn’t fully his, which you thought was all bullshit. You bite your tongue, however, choosing to not get into it and letting him wrap an arm snugly around your waist, pulling you closer than necessary.
As he entered the diner, his whole demeanour changed. He stood impossible straighter, taller and took up even more room. You found yourself being held tighter and closer to his side, making it hard to walk and led you to be mostly pulled around by him. He chose a booth on the far side of the diner, despite the other side being less busy. You didn’t understand why until you saw the waitress.
She had to be a year or two younger than you and looked like a small town Brooke Shields, right up to the big, wide eyed innocent hazel eyes. She was tall and thin and her hair was bigger than her head. You wondered how she’d ended up working in a diner instead of being the next big star, and then you remembered that this was Hawkins and nobody ever seemed to make it big. When she saw the pair of you, her smile turned weary and she spent just a second too long with the table next to yours and made a beeline to the kitchen instead of coming to you next, promising vaguely to be right with you. Not that Billy seemed to mind, he was watching her dreamily.
You should’ve been annoyed, hell maybe a part of you was, but mostly you were incredibly curious. There was a story there, you could tell. And you planned to figure out what it was.
Billy didn’t turn to look at you until you cleared your throat loudly and when he did, he looked completely annoyed to be doing so. “Are you alright?” you asked softly, leaning on your elbows to look at him with a sympathetic expression you pulled out of your ass “You seem distracted…”
“I’m fine. Just wondering where our waitress went.” He replied glumly, disappointment obvious in his voice.
“She looks like Brooke Shields doesn’t she?” you watched as his expression changed, looking at you curiously, his eyebrow rising significantly as if to tell you to go on. You didn’t however, instead waiting patiently for a response.
“Who?”
“You ever see the movie Blue Lagoon?” Billy shook his head. “How about Pretty Baby?” you tried. His whole expression perked up again, not in knowing but in excited memory.
“Yeah! I remember sneaking in to see that movie in theatres. It was like a crazy sex movie or something; everyone was talking about it for awhile.” Billy announced like a giddy child in the know.
“I guess? I think that was more for Blue Lagoon, that movie just got banned in a bunch of places. Anyway, the main girl in that movie-that’s Brooke Shields. She’s also in Endless Love.” You replied with frown, already noticing how he wasn’t paying attention to you anymore. Your waitress had returned with menus in hand and Billy was watching her closely with a smirk, not so much a forced one either like he did when he was trying to establish him dominance, but a real one that seem to be pulled from deep attraction. And the girl was blushing under his gaze, squirming like a beetle flipped on its back.
“Hi, I’m Rosemary, I’ll be your waitress for tonight, get I get you guys some drinks or do you need a second to look it over?” she addressed her initial opener only to you, smiling warmly down at you, clearly glad to not have to only address the man undressing her with his eyes.
“Um…I’ll have…” you mumbled, going over the menu briefly, double checking to ensure your usual order was still on the menu. “I’ll have a chocolate shake and a cheese burger, side fries.” You said simply, smiling up at her and handing back the menu.
“You know what I like, Rosie.” Billy said, handing back his. Their hands touched briefly and his thumb caressed her fingers gently, softening her expression and darkening her blush just for a second. It was as though you’d stepped into a bad teen movie; you were the forgotten friend watching on as the love interests fell in love right before your eyes.
“Alright, I’ll be back in a second with your drinks.” She said, clearing her throat and skittering off, busying herself behind the counter and sliding the slip into the wheel of orders above the pickup window, ringing the bell. Billy watched her closely and, after he waited the right amount of time you assumed, he stood from his side of the bench and announced that he was headed to the bathroom, leaving you alone at the booth.
You’d pieced together that they were, at one point, in a relationship, but something had gotten in the way. And by the way little Rosemary was looking at him, it had been a painful end. The whole thing was playing out like Austen novel, it was all very Persuasion-love lost lovers, separated by circumstance and still lusting desperately for one another. You would pity them, if only it didn’t seem like it was one sided. Billy was watching her like she was a piece of meat and not a person, a grave difference in reaction to one another.
You didn’t know where he’d wandered off to, nor did you care. This night was not going to end where you thought it would and that thought made you just a little sad.
“I’m sorry, are you Y/N Henderson?” you heard a voice behind you ask. You turned around, meeting the wide, brown eyes of Carol Danforth, who was peering at you as though you were a figment of her imagination.
You smiled back, waving politely “Hi Carol, it’s nice to see you again.” You said softly, brushing your hair behind your ear.
“Oh my god it is you! Hi! How are you, what’re you doing back?” she grinned, giggling and calculating.
“I’m back for my younger brother’s graduation, I’ve been in for a week and a half.” You replied, catching the eye of the nervous girl across from Carol. You turned fully, pulling your knees up on the bench and reaching your hand over to greet her “Hi, I’m Y/N.”
“Wendy…” she muttered, eyes watery, not bothering to shake your hand.
“Don’t mind her; she’s just upset over your date.” Carol said softly, hand cupped over her mouth.
“Billy break your heart?” you asked, ignoring Carol pleading looks to stop talking.
She hummed, swallowing hard “He said he…loved me…” she said shakily.
You nodded “He told me the same thing when I ran into him. I think he’s forgotten the definition of the word.”
“No, he’s just in love with someone else and won’t admit it yet.” Carol said, making you turn to look at her and following her gaze to the scene unfolding before your eyes. Billy had returned from the bathroom, or maybe he’d never gone in the first place, either way he was leaning over the counter and making eyes at her and making her laugh. They looked good together, something that made your heart feel so much lighter. He didn’t love you, he never did. He loved this little thing with a sexy pout and wide, innocent eyes. And that was more than okay with you.
“What’s the story there?” you asked, watching them spellbound.
“From what I’ve heard, he met her here when he was working construction after high school and they fell for each other. They were together for a year and then he cheated on her with Wendy over here. She dumped him, and he’s been chasing her down ever since.” Carol explained.
You furrowed your brow “But wait…I thought he was living in California until a couple years ago.”
Wendy and Carol looked at each other curiously before looking back to you. “He never left town.” Carol said.
“Yeah, he’s been here since graduation. Never left.” Wendy added awkwardly, before asking “What did he tell you he was doing here?”
“He said he was living here because his father died and he was handling his affairs. That he used to live in San Diego…” you said softly, almost embarrassed by the deceit.
“His father did die, but Billy didn’t handle anything with it. He told me he was disinherited. His step-mom handled it, he didn’t even go to the funeral.” Wendy explained to you. Suddenly, the whole situation became a lot clearer. And the image forming wasn’t one you liked.
Billy was returning to the table, as was Rosemary with a tray of drinking. And if destined in the stars, she tripped on the edge of the tile and you were coated in your own milkshake. And Rosemary screamed rather than you, hands rushing to cover her mouth.
“I am so sorry! Oh my goodness!” she screamed, grabbing napkins and rushing to help you wipe your face. You found yourself grinning, laughing even at what had just happened.
“It’s alright! No harm done, honestly.” You said, standing from your seat. Billy wasn’t even fazed by what had happened, he was so happy to be looking down Rosemary’s uniform as she wiped it up the mess she’d made on the floor.
Rosemary wasn’t paying much attention to him, she took your sticky arm and pulled you away from the bench “Here, I have a spare shirt in my locker, let’s try to get the stain out of your shirt.
“It’s okay, really, you don’t have to.” You tried with a smile. If you were reading this girl right, you were going to get exactly what you wanted from her.
“No, no let me help, I feel so bad!” she cried and you relented, letting her lead you into the bathroom before rushing off and instructing you to take off your blouse and soak it in the sink.
She returned quickly with a plain cotton tee shirt marked with the label of the diner printed on the front. She shrugged softly, handing it to you “Technically, you’re supposed to pay for these, but nobody does and I won’t tell if you won’t.” she said and you found yourself nodding as you pulled it on. It was a bit snug, but you much preferred it to the wet shirt you had on before.
“Thank you so much.” You grinned, tossing your shirt in the sink and turned on the faucet.
“Here, let me see if there’s a plastic bag or something in the back for you to throw that in. I wouldn’t want to keep you in here too long, can’t keep Billy waiting on you…” she said and you noted the sad turn in her voice. Now was as good of a time as any to ask.
You grabbed her wrist gently before she could completely turn away from you. “Can I ask you a somewhat personal question?” you asked, earning a bewildered and worried look from the taller girl.
“You can, but that doesn’t mean I’ll answer it.” she said and you liked her already.
“I noticed Billy…well, staring at you. Can I ask what the deal is there? Cause it’s a little weird if there isn’t a story.”
Rosemary sighed, her shoulders and head slumping down, her brown locks becoming a halo of curls around her head. “It’s not…it’s a long story. But it’s not weird, his staring I mean.”
“I don’t need the story, if you don’t want to tell it, but I can tell you that Billy doesn’t look at everyone like that.” Rosemary shook her head, disheartened by something in her head that you couldn’t see. “I’m serious! I use to date him and he never looked at me that way, and he used to say that he loved me.”
That might have not been the best thing to say, it seemed, as it triggered a slow, steady stream of tears down her cheeks. You quickly grabbed her hands, squeezing them tightly. “He doesn’t love me…” she whispered hoarsely, trying not to sob too loudly.
“What do you mean?” you replied, looking up at her sympathetically.
“He…he…” she took a gulping breath “We dated and it got serious and I told him that I loved him and he wouldn’t say it back. He couldn’t say it back. And we broke up but…I love him.”
You found yourself smiling; there was an easy answer to this problem. “Sweetheart,” you said, shaking your head solemnly “He loves you.”
“No, no he doesn’t he would’ve-”
“No, he wouldn’t. Billy has the emotional reverence of a clogged pipe. He can’t say it to you, because you’re the person he cares about, but he can say it to anyone else. And he has-he’s been saying to every other girl he can find because he’s scared to say it to you.”
“That makes no sense.” She pouted softly, pulling her hands away to cross them over her chest.
“You say that like Billy ever makes sense. He has a logic all his own. But if you can understand even a bit of it, then you know him. I know him well enough to know that he doesn’t love me, despite the fact that he told me that he did last week. And I want to help in whatever way I can, and if that means publicly embarrassing him to help you, then I will.”
She stood silent for a good few moments, mulling over everything you’d said. You watched as her face broke into a small smile, clearly not opposed to the idea. “Can you do that?” she asked softly.
“I can do whatever I want. Now, please go and find me that bag, I’ll take care of our dummy.” You replied with a smirk, looking yourself over in the mirror. This would take an easy skill. You left your shirt in the sink and marched out into the dining room, putting on your hardest expression.
“Hargrove.” You snapped, finding him paying the bill at the counter, two Styrofoam counters stacked up on top of each other and deeply disappointed scowl on his lips. He turned and, for a brief moment, looked at you as though it was his own mundane reflection looking back at him. He found the surprised expression he needed and then let it settle into one of pity.
“There you are! I handle this, come on let’s get you home.” He said, looking around the room as though the very sight of you was embarrassing him.
“Sit.” You snapped, pointing back to the booth and nodding over when he didn’t move immediately. He relented with a groan, sliding back in with great and obvious annoyance.
“What the fuck is your problem?” you asked, earning a bewildered look from the boy.
“Excuse me?”
“Oh don’t start with that, you know why I’m about to yell at you. What the fuck is your problem-you’re gallivanting around with every girl in sight and breaking poor Rosemary’s heart instead of just admitting that you love her.”
Billy sighed, lowering his head. When he looked up again, he didn’t look guilty-he looked tired. “I don’t…I don’t love her.”
“Well I know for a fucking fact you don’t love me like you said you did. And you sure as hell don’t love little Wendy back there, I bet you didn’t even remember her name till I said it.” you cried.
“How the hell would you know how I feel?”
“Because,” you countered, leaning in to truly hold his eye contact “I know you better than you realize. And I know you don’t say what you feel to the people that can help. You say it to anyone else.”
“So? That doesn’t mean that I love her.”
“Okay, riddle me this: why did you lie to me about living in San Diego?” you asked simply.
“Because I-” he started into another lie, but when he looked in your eyes, his dropped the sentence off, sighing softly “Because I didn’t want you to think I was a loser.”
“Okay,” you said, nodding softly “And why did you tell Wendy that you love her?”
Billy smirked “To get her in bed.” You heard the muffled gasp and moan of poor Wendy behind you, clearly falling back into tears. You didn’t look back.
“And why did you break up with Rosemary?” you asked, watching the smirk fall away and him shy away immediately.
“Don’t make me say it…” he muttered.
“No, say it cause I wanna know.” You snapped back, raising your brows.
“Because I was scared alright? God damn it Y/N, why are you interrogating me?” he cried, huffing and pouting like a child.
“Because I want an answer! Because poor Rosemary needs an answer, okay? Because you spent the whole night watching her with these big, stupid puppy dog eyes and it drove me nuts because you’re so obvious it’s not even funny!” you countered, matching both his volume and tone.
“You’re right, okay?” he relented softly “I do…you know…”
“I know you do.” You smiled, earning an annoyed scoff “Now go tell her that.” Billy stayed put, hands shaking just a tiny bit, his eyes shifted from her at the counter to you across from him. He looked so nervous, like a little boy about to admit to his first crush, and it made your heart melt just a little. You believed that he’d been in love before, but not at this level. Not in this fully adult way. You were proud of him, in that sense, for finally coming to terms with adulthood and the responsibilities you have to your partners, understanding that they becoming your family after awhile.
You took his hand gently, squeezing it softly “You deserve happiness, Bill, but you have to get it for yourself. It won’t always come to you on its own.” You murmured to him and, for once, he seemed to listen. He nodded, letting your hand go and getting up from his seat. You took the opportunity to grab your food from the pile and stand as well, finding the plastic bag with your wet blouse in it on the opposite end of the counter. You didn’t spare a glance to Carol and Wendy, although you could hear Carol’s grumbling as Wendy tried to muffle her sobs. In fact, you only turned once, when Rosemary cried out a watery ‘yes!’ from behind you. You turned just in time to see Billy pull off one of his tarnished silver rings and slip it onto her left hand. You shook your head, chuckling at the quite honestly adorable scene in front of you, watching Billy get the life squeeze out of him by his bride to be and hearing Wendy’s sobs get louder as Carol dragged her out of the booth and out the front door, flipping you off along the way. You guessed now you really weren’t invited to that wedding.
You slipped out the front door and into the cooler summer night, the sun waning in the sky as warm pinks and oranges overtook the blue and made a gorgeous cocktail of colours. A soft, warm breeze blew through the trees edging on the diner and the sound of cars driving down the interstate behind you filled the whole atmosphere with the ends of day trips with tired, sunburnt kids half asleep in the backs of cars as dad rock played softly through the speakers. It was the type of scene you knew so well from childhood.
Of course, you were in a whole different scene entirely.
You were alone in a parking lot, hair sticky and clumped with dried ice cream and whipped cream, your arms still sticky despite being wiped down and a prominent stain drying into your favourite skirt. You were alone and with no way of getting home. And there was no way in hell you’d get back in the car with Billy, not with his new fiancé, both of them itching to tear each other’s clothes off. You were going to half to walk it alone.
“Well that was a fucking waste of time…” you muttered, huffing out a sigh before trudging into the woods. You didn’t want to walk the highway in, just in case you were spotted or worse, hit. You go through the woods and hope that your anxiety didn’t get the best of you.
You spent your walk mostly running or jogging, trying to avoid roots and fallen logs. Your heart was racing and you had to avert your eyes to the now quarantined labs as you ran past, their fences still holding something inside too ominous to let free or tear down. You tried to think of positive, happy things. You would certainly get an invite to the new couples wedding, that would be lovely you hadn’t been to a wedding at all since Jonathan and Nancy’s rushed courthouse ceremony, and not a grand ceremony and reception since your mother and Richard. But thoughts of white dresses and tuxedos only distracted your mind for so long and eventually, after the sun finally set, you had to talk yourself out of the woods altogether, opting to hurry down Cherry Lane, four streets below yours.
You remembered that the Mayfield’s lived there, once even with their Hargrove counter parts, and you wondered to yourself if they still did. You got your answer almost immediately when you saw a flash of red hair hop out a window followed by two flashes of dark hair. You hadn’t noticed the bikes waiting for them below, but you recognized the faces when they appeared in the sunlight.
“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”
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