#and she was like HEY I do plenty of things such as ride my bike and he said ok then why are your thighs the size of my forearm | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

panic-at-the-fiction · 5 months

Text

Jump, Then Fall

Summary: Having been friends with Jonathan for so long it’s getting harder to deny your growing feelings for each other without the fear of ruining your friendship. Jonathan x best friend reader, Friends to lovers, cute and fluffy

A/N: love the fictional trope but personally in real life I’m against dating your friends or at least your best friend. Like bro that is truly awkward if y’all break up cause you got to find a new best friend. Anyway this is my first Jonathan Byers fic and I’m just trying to get back in the habit of writing over Christmas break so hope y’all enjoy and expect more from me soon.

Panic rushed in as you saw the clock beside your bed, you overslept. Not by much, but enough that you could only pray to get out to the bus in time. You ran around your room getting ready, forgoing breakfast and plenty of other things as you checked the time again. Grabbing your bag, you bolted out into the yard as you could just make out the bus at the bus stop a couple of houses down. You didn’t even make it halfway down your driveway as you watched it pull away, leaving you in the dust.

That was it, you were fucked. There was one last viable option, but you would have to catch him first. You grabbed your old rusted up bike and took off down the road to the Byers residence.

It wasn’t but a 10-minute bike ride, a ride you were quite familiar with. You spent half your time over at their house, ever since you were young, your parents could find you there on any given afternoon.

You felt so thankful to see your best friend's car still parked in his driveway, and you ditched your bike on the lawn. You knocked on the door winded from your bike ride and were happy to be greeted by Mrs. Byers.

“(Y/n), sweetie, what are you doing here?” She said, ushering you into the house.

“I missed the bus again, and I was hoping to catch Jonathan and get a ride to school.”

“He’s brushing his teeth. Here come in the kitchen, have you eaten yet?”

“No, I skipped breakfast in hope of saving time.” You sighed as the panic you felt since that morning began to disappear.

“Well, you got time now, so eat.” She commanded as she set you down at the table that still had eggs toast and bacon set out. Will was also sitting at the table eating his breakfast.

“Hey Will.”

“Hey (y/n), late again?”

“Yep,” you sighed as you fixed yourself a plate. “Whatcha working on?”

“It’s a scene from our latest campaign. We came across a salamander creature that almost got us, but luckily, I had a spell that saved us at the last minute.”

“Sounds like quite the quest,” you smiled, continuing to eat and listen as he filled you in on his latest campaign.

“Alright kid, you can finish your story later. You have to go brush your teeth.” Joyce said as she took Will's plate away, shooing him off down the hall.

Jonathan finally emerged into the kitchen ready for school. His hair was still a bit damp, and you tried not to notice. He wasn’t even shocked by your presence in his house. “Overslept?”

“Yep.” You nodded, taking note of how his voice was a bit deeper this early in the morning.

“What about that alarm clock I got you for Christmas?”

“Still slept through it, just by ten minutes, though.”

“I told you I can just give you a ride every day. You don’t have to ride the bus.”

“My parents are too proud to let me accept that offer and too stubborn to get me a car of my own.”

“How did you get here?”

“I rode my bike.”

“The old rusty one that can’t even stand up right?”

“The very same.”

He laughed, just a small little laugh. The same old usual small laugh you got from him, but it still hit you all the same.

“Will, hurry, we gotta go.” Jonathan called down the hall. You snapped yourself back to reality and stood up, thanking Mrs. Byers for the breakfast.

Jonathan dropped Will off at the middle school, and you couldn’t help, but admire how sweet he was with his brother.

He was telling you something now, speaking to you, telling you a story or something, but you were lost. Just staring at him, you do that a lot these days. You two have been friends for years, but you’ve always wanted more, always liked Jonathan. As you’ve gotten older, it's harder to deny how much you wanted to be with him. Even now, as he talked to you, all your brain could hear was “we should be together.”

“So you want a ride home in the afternoon or are you taking the bus back? I mean, I can give you a ride, and you just come back to the house for dinner tonight.”

How he hadn’t noticed yet how dazed you were around him, you had no idea. “Yeah, totally, sounds fun.”

The afternoon passed, and soon you found yourself laying on Jonathan's bed, ignoring your homework and choosing to instead stare at the ceiling.

“Have you figured out problem number 4?” Jonathan asked from where he sat on the floor beside the bed.

“No,” you laughed.

“Are you even trying?”

“Nope, I gave up when we started.”

He sighed, laughing as he tossed the books aside and plopped down on the mattress with you. “This math class is going to kill me. Who needs math anyway?”

“We do, apparently.”

You smiled, turning on your side to face him. He was smiling at you just the same, with his hair lightly falling into his face. You could feel your heart speed up as you reached out and brushed his hair out of his eyes. You loved moments like this, just you and him together where you’ve always been.

Things have been different for a while now. You both could feel it. The little brushes of hands had become a bit more frequent, comfortable silence in the extra bits of closeness like this. This couldn’t be one-sided, you thought.

Oh what a dumb thought because it was the last straw to push you forward as you lightly kissed Jonathan before you could change your mind.

You pulled away in shock, both of you staring at each with identical expressions. Both of you set up and slightly away from each other as you process.

“Did I just?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“And we just?”

“Mmmhm.”

“I have been thinking about that all day.” You sighed, almost relieved.

“Really?” He seemed surprised.

“I mean, yeah.” You sat for a moment before you got the courage to look over at him. “Well say something.”

“I don’t know what to say. I… I mean, you’re my best friend (y/n).” Jonathan stood up and started pacing. “I mean, I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t been thinking about you that way, but I don’t know if that’s a good idea. I mean, you’re my best friend!”

“Well, maybe I want to be more than just your best friend. I’m sorry I shouldn’t have just kissed you randomly, but I think you want more too.” He didn’t respond and continued to pace.

You stood up and grabbed his hands. “Jonathan, will you just look at me.” You could see the worry in his eyes, you’d known him long enough to know he feared what this might mean. “Don’t forget, I can read your thoughts.” You joked. “Better you just say them out loud and save us both some time.”

“You know I like you too, but I would rather not ruin our friendship. Other than my mom and will you’re all I got. I mean, we’ve been best friends since we were kids, since as early as I can remember.”

“So? I have loved you since as early as I can remember. I would rather not mess this up either, but no one’s ever been there for me like you have. You mean a lot to me and I need you in my life, so I’m not going to let this get ruined. No one has ever cared for me the way you do.” You still held his hands in yours, tracing circles as you smiled reassuringly.

“And I liked to think I’ve been there for you, too. So I know it’s a bit risky, but I’m asking you to take a leap of faith with me. Jump, then fall into me.” Doing your best to smile, but a small bit of doubt creeped in. What if this was all in your head, and you pushed him too far this time and this wasn’t what he wanted.

Before those thoughts could carry you away in a downhill spiral, you felt his hands cup your face as he pulled you in for another kiss. Not a light brush like before, but a real deep kiss.

He pulled you in close, your hands resting on his chest as he kissed you. Only pulling away just enough to get air as you both rested your foreheads together.

“Just jump, then fall.” He repeated quietly. “Means you’ll catch me right.” He laughed, that same laugh that had you dazed just this morning. “Because if you're just going to drop me, I should just go.” He said, smiling as he attempted to pull away.

“Oh no you don’t” you laughed as you tugged him back into another kiss.

#jonathan byers #jonathan byers x reader #jonathan byers x you #jonathan x reader #stranger things x reader #stranger things

23 notes · View notes

awek-s-archived · 10 months

Note

sorry to dump this on you unsolicited but genuinely thank you for being so firmly against interacting with new/jeans content. there's a huge difference between there being a couple of minors in a group of mostly adults and a group entirely composed of minors, but even more than their actual ages, there's something about their concepts that really freak me out. it's like they're being styled and choreographed and staged to simultaneously look young and sexy, as opposed to being dressed in sexy clothes above their age/maturity; it feels like instead of sexualizing a young person, these stylings sexualize youth itself, or specifically appeal to people who find young girls sexy for being young. like, even if the members were of age, that would still be a creepy concept! even when the songs are good, i can't get through watching a performance without feeling icked at some point. it's seriously scary that this is the direction the industry is going in. again sorry for barging in I'm just so DX about all of this

hey, no apology necessary!! i agree. i think generally speaking if there's a couple of minors in adult groups they tend to have better support at least, and if there's nothing they can change about a hardship they're going through there's something they can do for support afterwards. there are plenty of 2nd gen idols talking about how they were looking out for their maknaes because they were so much younger. and recently, the adults in l/esserafim went apeshit when somebody suggested that e/unchae do a sexy concept (she's 17). when the entire group is made of minors there is nobody to give you that kind of backing and support. you're fed to the lions by everybody around you because your company doesn't see you as a person to protect. nevermind the nj situation in particular and the fact that min heejin is known to glorify and glamorise paedophilia. that's not even a theory, it's 100% factual based off her personal instagram and the moodboards in her office. the people in her moodboards have RECENTLY said they were abused as children, and she still thinks that's something to aspire to with her group of young children.

and as for the 'fans', it's just very scary to me that none of this is concerning.. like does nobody know any children in real life? if i catch a glimpse of one of the nj girls i immediately see a 13 year old girl in a writing class i used to teach, who wrote a story about a dragon and told me to keep it, and my early teen neighbours who ride on bikes and think the word 'gross' is a rude swear word and apologise to me for using it in my presence. they're KIDS.... like that's a CHILD.... i know the industry is so so so awful and there's nothing fans can really do to stop it but i think the first thing people can do at least for the children in their immediate spaces is to stop making those spaces so unsafe for them to be in. and engaging with an underaged group specifically designed to be interacted with in subtly nefarious adult ways does make any kpop space wildly unsafe for children. especially when u remember the amount of kpop that is actually predominantly aimed at middle schoolers

#asks

12 notes · View notes

cuteteacakes · 2 years

Text

The box of fresh pumpkin bake was trembling in Caleb’s hands. He had just asked the nurse at the front desk if he could see Anders, and she was going to check be right back one moment sir-!!! No no he wanted to see him now!! Also?? Apparently Anders is his last name?? And his first name is Felix???? His name was Felix Anders???? Wow... You know now that Caleb thought about it, the name fit. He looked like a Felix... Aaah what was taking so long? How long does it take to ask a man, “Hey, there’s someone named Caleb Michaelson here to see you, are you feeling okay for visitors?” Not this long!!

“Mr. Michaelson? Please follow me-”

Oh. “Yes? Okay.”

The hallway was long and the fluorescent lights buzzed above their heads as Caleb followed the nurse. They came upon a closed door which she knocked on lightly. “Mr. Anders? Mr. Michaelson is here to see you.”

“Can I bring in food with me..?” Caleb asked uncertainly. The nurse nodded, and they both entered.

Anders was propped up on his bed, his whole right shoulder wrapped in gauze and bandages. His hair was pulled back in a ponytail and there were shadows under his eyes, but he was still the same Anders Caleb remembered. He almost burst out in tears right then, but he composed himself in front of the nurse.

“Can we have some privacy?” Anders asked. Ah, his voice, Caleb didn’t realize how much he missed hearing it in person-

“Of course. Call if you need anything.”

Caleb watched the nurse leave and then turned back to Anders. He was smiling. He was smiling at him... Caleb forced a smile back although his eyes were already shining with tears.

“Hey.. I brought fresh pumpkin bake..”

“Sit with me.”

Caleb placed the bake on the table by the bed and quickly wiped his eyes. He sat down at the foot of the bed.

“You know,” Anders said, heaving a sigh. “I’ve been shot at before, plenty of times. It comes with the job.”

“I figured..” Caleb mumbled, trying to find something to do with his hands. He settled on fidgeting his thumbs.

“But this was the first time someone was on my mind when the bullet hit me.”

Anders’ words hung in the air. Caleb felt his heart leap into his throat. No, no, he could’ve been thinking about someone else, right??

“Caleb.”

Caleb realized he had be staring at his hands intensely. He gasped and looked back at Anders. Oh... oh no... what was that look?

“It was you on my mind.”

Oh no.

“You’ve been on my mind for so long now... I realized I might not have another chance to say this, but...”

But?

“Caleb, I-”

Caleb held up his hand, stopping Anders before he could say anything more. It was getting to be too much, even for him! “Please,” he said. “Don’t say it like you’ll die tomorrow. You’re not dying tomorrow, right?”

“No..?”

“Then tell me like you’ll see me tomorrow..” Tears began to spill out of Caleb’s eyes. Damn he’d been crying so much lately. “Tell me like you’ll be back at your office with all your coworkers waiting for you. Tell me like you’re going to try all of my crappy cooking and energy drinks, okay??”

“Caleb-”

“Tell me like we’re going to go do normal, not-dangerous things, like, I don’t know, go to the aquarium, or the park, or ride bikes!”

“Caleb.”

“Tell me like we’re going to go stargazing, and we see a shooting star at the same time and wish for completely different things but they’re somehow endearing because it’s you and-”

“Caleb!”

Caleb was pulled into Anders’ embrace (with his good arm), shutting him up almost instantly. “Let me tell you now before I lose my nerve!” His grip tightened a little. “I’ve realized I have feelings for you, Caleb! And I have for a while now! I never did anything about it because I was worried for your safely, but if I didn’t tell you now I never would be able to!”

Ah... That explains it. That explains a lot, actually.

Doesn’t mean Caleb’s not gonna throw his arms around Anders and kiss him like he’s been wanting to do for weeks now. Oh... his lips were sweeter than Caleb imagined...

“Me too, Felix, me too!”

#drabble #long post tw #npc: agent anders #THEY DID IT #and all before 9 pm uwu

3 notes · View notes

bmaxwell · 2 years

Text

Days Gone

I loved Days Gone. Obviously. I honestly don't remember how it ended up in my library. Whether it was included in PlayStation Plus at some point, or went on deep discount enough that I took a flier on it and tucked it away for One Day or Another I'll Try This Out. I just know that the day came when I said "Hey, why not give Days Gone a whirl?"

I know it was some time after release. The overwhelming sentiment around the game was a collective scoff and shrug. PlayStation had built Days Gone up to be a major AAA tentpole release, and the reception was lukewarm. The zombies in the game were called "freakers" (which is admittedly dumb). And there was a cutscene where the bride makes a crack about her biker husband "riding her more than he rides his motorcycle" which is equally groan-worthy. *

It's a 3rd person open world zombie apocalypse action game. None of those descriptors check any of my boxes, so I safely ignored it. Every once in awhile though, I get a hankering for a game outside my usual fare. No fantasy, no RPG, no cards or tactics. I don't do zombies, and having a biker dude protagonist is completely new to me, so why not?

*Record scratch* That's me. You're probably wondering how I got here.

It might be due in part to some combination of low expectations and inexperience with similar games, but I loved my time with Days Gone and could not put it down. The Oregon wilderness where the game takes place is absolutely breathtaking, and traversing it all on a motorcycle is a great way to take it all in. The zombies in the game are appropriately harmless individually, but quickly spiral out of control when they appear in numbers.

One of the game's claims to fame (sorry) is the presence of zombie hoards. You'll find roving packs of zombies that range from dozens to hundreds. It was a "Get on your bike and drive in the opposite direction as fast as you can, or you are dead" situation for a while. The notion of taking one on was absurd, and the first time I defeated one was a hell of a rush. You can't just toss a few grenades and unload a mess of machine gun ammo into them, you need a plan. I'd have an escape route plotted, lined with explosives - then I'd have to time things out right. Also, there was a little bit of luck and flailing involved.

The combat all felt good to me - the shooting, the melee, and the grenades are all satisfying and effective. There are plenty of upgrades to be had, and you can craft shit like bats with nails sticking out of them. You also upgrade your motorcycle for speed, mileage, durability, and the such. Cosmetic upgrades exist as well, but once I unlocked the Death Stranding motorcycle cosmetics all others ceased to matter.

It's a zombie apocalypse, so things are often harrowing. You see little communities of people scraping by and doing what they must to get by. Each one has its own leader with their own philosophy and outlook, each understandable in their own way. You frequently see the worst of people, but that makes the moments of kindness and goodness shine that much brighter.

I liked Deacon St John as the protagonist, worn out and put upon, but never giving up hope that his missing wife, Sarah, is still alive out there. I cared about the main characters in a way that does not always happen in games. Some story events made me upset and really made me think about my own feelings and beliefs and examine some things. I did not expect any of that from a game about zombie freakers.

Days Gone served as a reminder that games outside of my usual tastes can be great, and that public opinion does not always line up with my own. I love Days Gone, and I wonder what everyone else didn't like. Were they expecting something different? Was it that this zombie apocalypse game doesn't do anything new? All I know is that this game has stuck with me, and I wish I could play it for the first time again.

*There's a scene where Deacon first asks her about marriage and Sarah says she doesn't want the dumb biker wedding where people joke about riding your wife more than riding your bike. SO THEY ACKNOWLEDGE IT OKAY

1 note · View note

broiderie · 2 years

Text

Lost Princessa 25

So I'm quarantined until Thursday (if I don't pop positive on a test before then) so you guys reap the benefits of me having bronchitis and possibly COVID.

Thanks to @drabbles-mc and @iamthegraham. I love how you guys keep me going with this story and take anything I throw at y'all in stride.

This is a BEAST of a chapter with plenty of set up for the next chapter which may or may not already be written, so let's get the formalities out of the way.

Please do not translate, duplicate or in anyway copy my writing on any other platforms. I promise, there's only one of me and the only place this is posted is right here.

Warnings: cursing, talk of murder, talk of human trafficking. Let me know if I missed anything please?

After her shower, Megan searched through the closet to see what Letty had bought. There were a couple of backless dresses - surely Letty had thought of what went under those. Megan sighed and picked up her phone to call and find out.

Two rings in, Coco picked up Letty’s phone. “Who the fuck is this?!”

Megan giggled. “Well good morning to you too, Coco. It’s Megan. Got a question for my personal shopper.”

Coco chuckled. “Sorry Ma. I was expecting it to be some asshole boy. Gimme a sec. I’ll roll her outta bed.”

“‘Kay. Thanks, Coco.”

“No problem, Ma.”

Megan giggled again as she heard a muffled scuffle and much swearing from the teenager. A minute or so later, Letty’s sleepy voice came through the speaker. “‘Lo. Who’s this?”

Megan outright laughed. “It’s Megan. Got a question for you about my wardrobe that you purchased.”

“Oh. Hey girl. What’s up?” Letty asked through a yawn.

“So, you bought me backless dresses - any chance you bought the bra to match? I can’t exactly wear a regular one for a few days. It’ll rub the new ink.” Megan flicked through hangers looking for a shirt to wear. The dresses were tempting just because they were something completely new to her - and they were especially tempting after this morning’s time in bed with Hank - but not exactly practical with riding the bikes.

An excited squeal came through the speakers. “Yes! I got some of those stick on bras. Things work miracles for a clubbing dress. Please tell me you’re wearing one of the dresses today?”

Megan laughed again. “I thought about it, but I really can’t. I’ve never worn one and dresses and bikes don’t mix.”

“Oh please! I thought of that too. There should be some cotton shorts you can wear under the dresses in there somewhere too. Please wear one? I desperately want to see you in the green one. Hank will lose every bit of his SHIT!” Letty begged.

“So will Papa!” Megan exclaimed.

“Nah. Taza’ll be cool with it. Please…?” It sounded like Letty was really turning on the puppy eyes. “It’ll make putting lotion on your tattoo SO much easier too!”

Megan bit her lip and sighed as she found the dress Letty was referring to. A dark green skater dress that was backless but actually had ¾ length sleeves to it. It wasn’t TOO short… and if she had shorts on under it, it couldn’t be TOO bad… “Fine! You win. But if Papa or mi padrinos lose their shit - I’m blaming you!”

Letty cheered triumphantly and Megan could hear Coco in the background asking what the fuck was going om. “I’ll take it! See you later at the club house?”

“Yep. See you soon” Megan chuckled as she hung up before going to dig through the dresser and find where Hank had put the bra and the shorts Letty mentioned.

Forty-five minutes later there was a knock on her bedroom door. “Chica - you good? Breakfast is ready,” Taza called.

“Ugh. Okay, Papa. Just fighting with my hair!” Megan called back.

He cautiously cracked the door open to find Megan fighting to twist her long hair into a bun in front of the dresser mirror. His eyes briefly scanned over her in the deep emerald dress with the open back proudly showing off her new ink. He couldn’t help but smile. “Well look at you, Chica! Don’t you look pretty this morning.”

Megan smiled a little at him in the mirror and let her hair fall again. “Need to let the tattoo breathe. I couldn’t find a shirt to do it, and Letty begged me to wear the dress so…”

Taza slipped inside and shut the door. “You’re beautiful, Sweetheart.” He kissed her forehead gently. “Want me to braid your hair like yesterday so it doesn’t irritate you so much?”

“Do you mind? I was trying not to bug you about it today.” She smiled sheepishly up at him.

“I’ll never mind helping with your hair, Chica. We need to get you a dressing table for in here.” He smiled. “I’ll have the prospect go pick one up today. Til then…” he slipped out and found the little wooden step stool she’d been using in the kitchen “this’ll do.” He sat on the bed with the stool in front of him and patted it.

Megan sat in front of him and handed him the pins and hair ties from the day before along with her hair brush.

Taza brushed her hair gently and started braiding. “Yeah. A dressing table and a good hair brush. Somewhere to keep your hair things. Maybe a few pretty things for if you feel like getting dressed up sometimes.” He smiled and carefully slid some pins in as he went. The braiding went a lot quicker today since he’d remembered the feel of it.

“Papa… you know I don’t need things like that.” She played with the hem of her dress and looked down at the white low tops she was wearing.

He kissed her hair and smiled. “I know, Chica. You’re gorgeous without them but every girl deserves some pretty things. And I have some of my mother’s things in my closet. Seeing you in that dress reminded me.” He slid the last pin in. “There you go, Sweetheart.” He stood with a smile.

Megan went to glance in the mirror. “Thank you, Papa. I love it.”

“You’re welcome, Chica. Wait right there for me. I’ll be right back.”

Taza slipped out the door and shut it firmly before moving to his room across the hall.

“Hey - she okay, Taz?” Hank asked anxiously from the end of the hall.

“Yeah, brother. She’s fine. Just had an issue with her hair. We’ll be out in a minute.” Taza chuckled and went to get the wooden box from the top of his closet.

Inside was all his mother’s everyday jewelry. Some of it was heirloom stuff from his mother’s tribe. Some of it was Mexican from after her marriage to his father. Either way - it would all be Megan’s now. He chuckled and resolved that he’d buy her something pretty on each run he went on without her - starting with tomorrow’s Vegas run.

He took the wooden box back in and set it on Megan’s dresser for now.

She smiled at him as she finished putting in her earrings. Her crown necklace already sat around her neck. “Wow.” She touched the lid reverently. “Was this hers?”

“Yeah. And her mother’s before that. Only right that it belongs to you now.” He opened the box to show beaded and metal jewelry alike. He pulled out a soft cloth bundle and revealed a pair of small silver hair combs with a single green gem on each.

Megan gasped softly. “Oh! They’re gorgeous, Papa. I can’t wear those. What if they get lost?”

“Then they get lost, Chica. It happens. Most of this is everyday wear. I have all the special pieces put back for special times for you.” He smiled and slipped the combs securely into her braids. “There. They suit you, Chica.”

“Are you sure, Papa?” Megan looked in the mirror and couldn’t help but touch the silver pieces where they stood out against her dark hair.

“Of course I’m sure. You’re allowed pretty things.” He nudged her chin up so she was looking him in the eyes. “Don’t worry. I have all her ceremonial things with her regalia. These are all things that she wore whenever she felt like it.” He smiled. “You’ll get her regalia too, when you’re ready for that.”

Megan nodded and smiled softly. “Okay.”

“Good girl. Now - breakfast is ready and Hank is anxious.” He chuckled. “I hope you have shorts under that dress so he can show you off before Templo.”

Megan giggled a little and nodded again. “Letty thought of everything I think.”

“Good. C’mon then. Let’s get you fed.” He slung his arm around her shoulders and led her to the door. “Besides, I want to see his jaw hit the floor.”

Hank looked up as Taza entered the kitchen. “Get it straightened out? I put the pancakes in the oven to stay warm.”

“You tell me…” Taza smiled and stepped to the side to start making Megan a cup of coffee.

Megan laughed at her father’s dramatics. “Sorry. I was trying to get my hair to stay up…” she trailed off as she watched Hank’s jaw go slack.

Taza chuckled. “Told ya, Chica, and he hasn’t even seen the back. Give him a spin.”

Megan shook her head a bit. “You gonna catch him if he passes out? Hank, Baby, you gotta breathe. It’s just a dress.”

Hank took a deep breath. “Dios mío! Warn a man, Princessa.”

Megan laughed again. “It’s JUST a dress, Hank. Letty bought it and I figured it would let my tattoo breathe.” She played with her hem a bit self-consciously.

“It’s not just the dress, Princessa. You’re beautiful.” Hank stood and took two steps towards her.

“Thank you.” Megan smiled and took the cup of coffee from Taza when he offered it. “Thank you, Papa.”

Hank offered his hand to escort Megan to her seat and she took it with a grin. As he seated her, Taza replied “you’re welcome, Chica.” He chuckled as Hank stared at Megan’s exposed back and Taza saw him swallow hard. “You okay, hermano?”

Hank chuckled back. “Fine Taz. Our brothers on the other hand may not survive the day if they can’t keep their eyes to themselves.”

After breakfast, Megan tucked her wallet and phone into the inner pocket of her riding jacket. “What time is Templo?”

Taza glanced at his watch. “About an hour. You ready, Chica?”

“Yeah. I’ll do whatever you guys decide - as long as it doesn’t put any of you at risk.” She took her jacket down off the hook Taza had hung next to the one where his kutte hung.

“Princessa, we won’t take unnecessary risks.” Hank took her jacket from her and held it for her to slip into before brushing his fingers gently over the back of her neck. He couldn’t help envisioning a gold crown tattooed just below her hair line. While Taza was shrugging into his own kutte, Hank placed a kiss there.

Megan smiled at him over her shoulder. “Try not to kill your brothers today, hmm. It’s just the dress.” She squeezed his fingers gently.

“No promises, Princessa. And I keep telling you - it’s not just the dress.”

Taza chuckled. “C’mon. Let’s get la princessa there early enough that the novelty of seeing how pretty she is has time to wear off before Templo or her padrinos might just murder them all for you, Tranq.”

At the club house, the only bikes there before them were EZ, Marcus and Bishop.

Hank helped Megan out of her jacket and tucked her securely under his arm. Taza just shook his head with a smile. He knew Hank was going to lose his shit, but this was better than he expected.

The bigger Mayan seemed stuck between wanting to keep his hands on Megan at all times and trying to be a gentleman. The planned boxing lesson should be absolutely hilarious. Taza shot a quick text to Marcus and Bishop so they’d be sure to watch Hank and be as amused as Taza was.

Inside they found only the Padrinos at a table. EZ was nowhere to be found. He was probably in his trailer.

“Buenos días, Poquito! Look at you! Remind me to send a picture to your tía of you today. She’ll love this.” Marcus smiled as he stood to offer his god daughter a hug.

“Buenos días, Tío Marcus,” Megan said with a smile. “Thank you. I just needed something to let my tattoo air for the day.”

“You definitely found something to do that.” Bishop chuckled and motioned for her to turn so he could examine her ink. “Wow.” He looked at Hank. “Beautiful work, brother. Can’t wait to see it finished.”

“Thanks, Bish. She takes ink like a champ.” He smiled but kept his eyes on Megan as Marcus led her away to get another cup of coffee. He startled a bit when Taza patted his shoulder.

“Easy, hermano. Just her tío,” Taza said with a smile. He knew how Hank felt.

Hank grinned sheepishly. “Can you blame me? She looks like she stepped out of a storybook.”

Bishop chuckled. “She’s beautiful, brother, I admit. Where’d the hair combs come from? I thought we weren’t giving jewelry gifts before the Quince?”

Taza chuckled at his brother’s suspicion. “Not a gift. An heirloom. They were my mother’s.”

“Ahh. Fair enough.” Bishop looked at Hank only to see he was smiling at Megan who was watching him from across the bar with a grin. Bishop shook his head and nudged Taza who hid a smile behind his hand. “Dios mío. I swear - he’s twitterpated!”

Hank snapped out of it to look at the two older men. “What?”

“Man, are you going to be able to concentrate during Templo? We need all hands on deck here,” Bishop reminded him. “Megan’s safety depends on it.”

Hank nodded and shoved his hands in his jeans pockets. “I’ll be fine.”

“Good, because we’re holding Templo out here. El Padrino and I agree - Megan needs to be a part of this discussion. We can’t just make decisions for her. Since she’s not patched, she can’t enter Templo. Prospect is gonna get a headstart on his yardshift and we’re holding full Templo in the bar.” Bishop lit a cigarette.

Taza nodded. “Sounds like a good idea to me. She can keep Hank focused enough. We’ll just sit her on his lap!” Taza teased.

Hank just chuckled. “Fair enough. That’s where I want her anyway with both charters here.”

EZ slipped inside from the kitchen doorway and Hank tensed. Marcus noted the sudden tension in the younger man from across the room and smiled down at his adopted niece. “Hank seems extra protective today. Everything alright, Poquito?” Marcus asked her as she put together coffee for herself, Hank and Taza.

Megan smiled. “Everything’s fine, Padrino. I just startled him this morning with the dress. I’ve never worn one before.”

Marcus chuckled. “If he loses it this much over a sundress, we may need EMTs at your party.”

Megan caught Hank’s eye with a smile and ducked her head a little shyly. “I’m still me.”

“You sure are, Poquito, but Hank is new to this relationship stuff too. He desperately wants to keep you safe and near him. He’d do anything if you never had to cry again. He doesn’t want anyone to even think about you in a disrespectful way, but he has no way of marking that you’re under his protection except his presence either.” Marcus reached out to gently tug the crown pendant around her neck. “That marks you as a daughter of the club. Gives you your father’s protection as well as Bishop’s and mine- but not HIS.”

“But I AM his girl. Eventually I’ll wear his mark. The vote just said only wives wear the permanent mark. We haven’t been together long enough for that.” Megan poured coffee into the three cups she had ready and offered Marcus a refill.

“True enough, Poquito. We just need to keep him from killing anyone until he relaxes into it.” Marcus winked and held the tray of coffee for her as she came out from behind the bar.

She laughed and waved at EZ to let him know she had Hank and Taza covered. They had settled into one of the seating areas of the club house and after she had put the coffee on the table between them, Hank gently guided her into his lap.

“Yo Prospect!” Bishop called, making Megan startle a bit. “C’mere.”

Megan settled closer to Hank's chest and leaned into him and his arm went around her bare back to steady her. He couldn’t resist stroking her soft skin with his thumb soothingly.

EZ came over to see what Bishop needed. “Yes, sir?”

“I need a Templo table put together here in the bar. One large enough for el Padrino’s men as well as ours. Once everyone gets here - you clear out and shut the gate. You’re on guard duty until otherwise notified for that rat bastard cop.” Bishop lit a cigarette.

“Yes, sir. Should I set up the front office for the girls? They’ll need a cooler and I can go turn the A/C on for them…” EZ asked.

“No need. Coco’s girl can stay in here if she comes. She’ll keep her mouth shut. And Poquito will be at the table with Hank and Taza.” Bishop exhaled smoke and waved it away from the group.

EZ startled a bit. “Yes, sir.” He went to start pushing tables together as the other men chuckled.

“Why hold Templo in the bar?” Megan asked quietly. “Isn’t the table in there big enough for both groups?”

Bishop chuckled. “Yes, but you have to have a full patch to enter Templo and YOU don’t.”

Marcus smiled softly as awareness bloomed across Megan’s face. “You deserve a say in what happens to the bastard, Poquito. He’s tormented you for fourteen years. Now you get to return the favor.”

The roar of bikes cut through the bar as Megan nodded, but pressed herself closer to Hank’s comforting warmth.

Hank stroked gently down her spine as her felt tension begin to knot her up. “Easy, Princessa. I’m here. Lean on me,” he whispered. He felt her tuck herself completely against his chest with her forehead pressed against the side of his neck. Her back was braced by his arm and the arm of the couch.

“Hank?” Megan whispered as men began to come inside revealing el Padrino’s men and not the men of the Santo Padre charter.

“Si, Princessa?”

“What happened to that prospect’s sponsor?” she asked quietly as her eyes roamed the unfamiliar men nervously.

“Hmm. Dunno.” Hank slid the hand that rested on her knee up to cup her face and kiss her forehead. “Stay right here until we find out though.”

Marcus sat up in his arm chair and greeted his men. “Buenos dias! Get yourselves some coffee. We’re holding Templo here in the bar.”

Marco - who Megan recognized as Hank’s friend - nodded with a frown. “Everything alright, Padrino?”

“You’ll find out during Templo,” Marcus said and lit a cigarillo.

“Si, Padrino.”

The men were noisy, but Megan could see that they weren’t as close as her own little family. There was joking and ribbing, but almost no contact between these strange Mayans. She looked to Taza and Hank. “Should I be behind the bar since EZ is busy putting the table together?”

Bishop answered her. “No, Poquito. You aren’t here as the bartender today. You’re family. You stay right where you are. You’re doing plenty keeping Hank focused.”

Megan nodded and glanced up at Hank who pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. “Stay right here, Princessa. I’ve got you.”

One of Marcus’ men noticed her and laughed. “I didn’t realize we could bring our own girls. I’d have brought a few of Vickies’s for myself.”

Hank tensed and Megna slipped her hand under his kutte to grip his shirt. “Remember - Arthur and Guinevere…” she whispered.

Hank took a deep breath of the scent of her shampoo and forced his muscles to relax. “Arthur and Guinevere.”

Megan smiled and kissed his jaw before looking up at the stranger. “You obviously weren’t here last time.” She held up her crown necklace. “But I KNOW the results of the princessa vote went wide, so either you’re begging for a cage match or you’re stupid. Which is it?”

“I’d like to hear that answer as well…” Bishop said, ashing his cigarette casually, but sitting forward in his chair with authority. “If you want a cage match, I’m sure Tranq will oblige, but making stupid comments about my god daughter will almost certainly get you killed here.”

Marcus sighed theatrically. “I thought I’d weeded out the dumbasses this time. Clearly I underestimated his stupidity. My apologies Bishop, Poquito.”

The man stuttered through an apology to Bishop and Marcus.

“Why are you apologizing to us? It was OUR goddaughter you basically called a whore. The daughter of the Santo Padre VP, I might add. You should be apologizing to her and her caballero - not us.” Bishop pointed out.

Hank was still tense, but Megan stayed snuggled against his chest and his hands were gentle as they continued to stroke the skin of her lower back and outer thigh.

The Mayan attempted to apologize to Hank - who growled deep in his chest causing goosebumps to litter Megan’s skin. “Still no apology for la princessa de los Mayas? You and I will be meeting in the cage this afternoon,” Hank growled. “We’ll see if you apologize better with fewer teeth. Get the fuck away from us.”

The man scrambled to put himself on the other side of the bar from them and Hank relaxed a smidge. He pressed apologetic kisses to Megan’s forehead.

Megan sighed. “I’m going to have to sit at the table with them, aren’t I?”

Bishop sipped his coffee. “We were just going to leave you on Hank’s lap so you’d be more comfortable, but now I think we need to establish you as Princessa. You’ll have a chair between Taza and Hank. You won’t have to be near anyone you don’t want to be.”

“How are we doing this?” Taza asked quietly. “Santo Padre on one side, Oakland on the other? Usually we only combine for Grand Templo and then it’s just officers at the table.”

“Sounds like a plan to me - Bishop and I at the head of the table - but you run the show, hermano. Your club house,” Marcus said. He sat back in his arm chair and offered Megan a small smile.

A loud rumble of bikes announced the arrival of the Santo Padre charter. Megan relaxed just a little bit more as she realized that her friends were here.

The men piled in laughing and joking to be greeted by their more serious brother charter. They quickly made their way over to the gathering at the couch. Morning greetings were passed quickly with many of them aimed at Megan.

Hank watched as Megan resituated herself on his knee so that she wasn’t hidden against him any more and had to smile. She was much more comfortable in the presence of her family.

Creeper had noted it too. “Everything go alright before we got here, Little Princess?” he asked her with a smile.

“I guess. Hank’s got an appointment in the cage this afternoon though.” Megan shrugged a bit nervously. “Apparently my reputation does not precede me yet.”

Creeper looked to Hank for an explanation.

“One of our Oakland brothers needs a lesson in manners is all. I’m more than willing to be the teacher.” Hank kissed Megan’s knuckles and smiled. “They’ll learn to give mi princessa the respect she deserves.”

“Fair enough.” Creeper smiled and patted his brother’s shoulder. “I’ll ref for you.”

“Hey Coco? Where’s Letty?” Megan asked curiously. “She said she’d be here and she better show after begging me to wear this dress.”

Coco lit a cigarette with a smirk. “She’ll be here later, Ma. I made her finish her homework first. Chuckie’s gonna go get her around lunch.” He chuckled. “She told me she’d picked your outfit this morning. Said something about airing out new ink. Lemme see.”

Megan grinned and stood to give the guys her back and show off Hank’s work. “Hank started fixing it yesterday so I had to be careful what I wore. Isn’t it gorgeous?”

All the guys very pointedly kept their eyes on her back as Hank narrowed his eyes at them.

“Wow, Shorty. That’s a lot of ink over your spine,” Angel said. He looked at Hank and grinned. “Very nice work, brother.”

Hank smiled up at Megan. “She took it like a champ too. Nearly four hours work and only took one break. She’d have kept going if I hadn’t stopped where I did.” He chuckled. “I’ll finish it in a few weeks when she’s healed.”

Coco looked closer and Hank tensed a bit before realizing that Coco was just admiring the art. “You did a great cover-up. Can’t even tell the old one was there.”

Megan smiled down at Hank proudly and preened - just a little - at his public praise for her stamina.

A sharp whistle cut through the air. “Time for table - Prospect make sure everyone has what they need and then shut the gate. Keep an eye out for our out of town friend,” Bishop called.

EZ quickly made sure everyone had a drink and put a few bottles of water at the end of the table where he knew Hank and Taza would have Megan and then went outside, shutting the door decisively behind him.

Bishop and Marcus moved to the head of the table before indicating for each group to take their places. Hank and Taza escorted Megan between them to the chair placed for her. None of the Santo Padre chapter batted an eye when Megan took her place, but a few grumbles were heard from the Oakland men.

Bishop called the meeting to order. “We have serious business to discuss today, brothers. My god daughter has a very large stake in the main matter of discussion. That’s why we’re holding Templo out here, so she can express any opinions she might have. Other matters can be freely discussed with her present as well - she knows all club business - but she won’t speak on anything to do with normal business.”

There were nods all around the table.

Marcus spoke next. “First - let’s get the run planning out of the way. Housekeeping first. Galindo will match our numbers. Who’s going?”

That was Creeper’s que to speak. “Taza is going as senior officer. As Road Captain - of course I’ll be going. We need at least two more.”

Bishop looked over his men. “Your turn Riz. Coco, Gilly and Angel were on the last run. Hank - you’re on minimal runs until we get the situation with Megan sorted and I can’t go because either Taza or I have to be present for the trespassing complaint to stick.” He turned to el Padrino. “Any of your boys want to make some quick cash while they’re down here? That’d solve our issue nicely.”

Marcus looked over his men. “Marco - I’ll give you first dibs. I know your daughter’s quince is coming up.”

Marco nodded. “I’ll go, Padrino. Becca’s party is getting close. Appreciate the extra cash.”

Bishop nodded. “Good. Coordinate with Creeper or Taza then. Preferably Creep. Taza has his hands full.”

Once Marco nodded, Bishop lit another cigarette and leaned forward over the makeshift ‘table’. “Now - for our main order of business. Some of you don’t know, so I’ll summarize from the beginning. A short time ago, Taza discovered that he had a daughter on a run. When given the option, Megan decided that she wanted to get to know her Papa and came back to Santo Padre with us. She is now my god daughter as well as being Marcus’ god daughter. She is also the reason for the princessa vote that happened in Santo Padre a few days ago as well as the markers for our queens.”

Marcus interjected as he tapped the ash off his cigarillo. “She is la princessa de los Mayas and will be treated as such. By all charters. She’s chosen Tranq as her caballero until they either part ways or she becomes his reina. Any slight to her means a cage match with him or another chosen champion. Am I understood?”

A chorus of “Si Padrino”s was heard. Marcus nodded and turned back to Bishop as Hank slid an arm around the back of Megan’s chair offering quiet support.

Bishop nodded. “Once here, we discovered MEgan was being stalked by her abusive ex-husband to attempt to beat an attempted murder rap. We eventually caught him and disposed of the issue.” He saw heads nodding all around. This was pretty standard practice in the club. “We disposed of the body in a car accident since the asswipe was out on parole. Figured it would keep the State of Tennessee happy while still giving Megan any benefits he may have had as next of kin.” He stopped to take a sip of beer. “Yesterday a Tennessee detective showed up asking questions and demanding to take Megan into custody. He set off her PTSD pretty bad, but after we got rid of him, she identified him as her foster brother from the age of twelve, Brandon Coleman. Further investigation on our part shows Detective Coleman is actually on leave from his department and is not here on state business. He just wants Megan and thought he could bluff his way into getting her because we’re a bunch of ‘dumb bikers’.”

One of the Oakland brothers frowned. “Why? No offense, but why does he want his sister so badly? No offense.”

Bishop looked to Megan who was chewing her lip hard enough to make it bleed. “We think he’s tied up in human trafficking. All evidence points to him selling Megan to her ex- for an undetermined price. He may want to dispose of her as evidence…” he paused and took a deep breath. “Or he may want to sell her again.”

The table was silent except for Megan’s harsh breathing. Hank was doing his best to resist pulling her into his lap to comfort her. He kept his arm tight around her and noticed Taza gripping her hand under the table.

Bishop swallowed and looked to Marcus. “You called Galindo’s people to see what you could find out. Any answers?”

Marcus nodded to the man beside him. “José was the contact I gave. I wanted to be freed up to help if Poquito needed us.”

Bishop nodded. “Anything?”

José pulled a folder out of his kutte. “Coleman is connected to three powerful trafficking rings. Two are of the mail-order bride type and the third is a hard core sex slavery ring. From what we can tell - la princessa would have been his first victim. No money seems to have exchanged hands, but shortly before he made detective, Coleman broke three drug cases wide open. The only way he could have gotten them is insider information.” José paused. He looked at Megan apologetically. “Then again - after the wedding of his sister to her now ex-, Coleman broke another career-making case wide open.”

Megan swallowed hard. “So he did sell me to advance his career.”

“I’m afraid so ma’am.” José said quietly before clearing his throat and continuing. “After that, Coleman can be connected to the disappearance of several women after their cases were closed. He goes on record saying he found them resources to start over and have a better life. On paper - the man’s a saint. In truth, Lucifer himself would condemn this man.” He passed the folder to Bishop. “All the proof is in there.”

Bishop flipped through it. “We’ll pass this information to our local police contact. It should be enough to get his badge pulled and a bolo put out for him. Until we can catch him - Megan you will stay in the presence of two full patches at all times.” He looked at her apologetically.

Megan nodded. She’d expected as much. At least they weren’t locking her down at the club house. “Si, Padrino. I understand,” she said quietly and looked down at her hands.

“Everyone else who isn’t on the run or babysitting duty - be on the lookout for anyone out of place. We’ve got pictures of him, but we don’t know if he has any allies here in Santo Padre.” Bishop passed around a picture from the yard security camera.

Megan spoke up. “Be careful if you do find him. He does have law enforcement training as well as being a big game hunter back home. He shouldn’t have S.W.A.T. or special ops training though.” She looked down at her lap. “If you have him and need physical leverage - his left shoulder is very weak from an old injury when we were teenagers.”

One of Marcus’ men spoke up, “Anything else you can give us? Any habits he would need to feed while he’s out here?”

Megan thought carefully. “No drug habit, but he likes to drink. Can’t hold his liquor very well though and has a rotten temper as a drunk. He’ll probably get himself thrown out of at least one bar.” She flinched at the memory of him being drunk and belligerent as a teenager. “He’s a bully. He won’t pick on someone his own size. And he likes to hit women. Like a lot.” She looked at Riz. “Did Vickie get warned about him? I’d hate for her girls to get hurt because he’s here after me.”

Riz smiled and nodded. “I can send her a copy of his picture, but I asked her this morning to not accept any new customers until this is sorted. They’ll be safe, Princessa. And this was NOT your fault. He’s not here because of you. He’s here because of him.”

Megan nodded and swallowed hard before looking at Hank. “You aren’t going to like this,” she said quietly. She met everyone’s eyes at the table. “I’m telling you all - right now. If he somehow does get his hands on me and tries to use me as a shield to get out - I’d rather be dead than be sold again. Take the damn shot.”

Coco spoke up. “It comes down to it, Ma, it’ll be me taking that shot. I won’t let him take you, but I won’t kill you either.”

Hank gave up and pulled her into his lap. “He won’t take you, Princessa. Not again.”

Megan nodded and curled tight in Hank’s lap burying her face in his kutte. He shielded her from the eyes of the brothers who didn’t know her situation as Taza petted down her back. Creeper was on Hank’s other side and gently jostled her white sneakers in support.

“Alright. You heard her. Spread out if you don’t already have an assignment. Show his photo to bar bouncers and diner girls. You find him - you call one of us -” Marcus indicated himself and Bishop. “And don’t be shocked if five-oh and Galindo’s men are looking for him too. Remember - today we’re all on the same team.”

Bishop struck the gavel and Oakland immediately cleared out. Gilly and Angel both patted Hank’s back on the way out but Coco reached out to Megan and nudged her gently where she was curled in Hank’s lap.

“I gotchu, Ma. He ain’t gettin past me.” He kissed his fingers and pressed them to the crown of her head before heading out to work in the yard.

Creeper nudged her again. “Hey Little Princess. We got you just like we got your pops. Ain’t nobody taking you from us now. We’re family and you’re stuck with us.”

Megan gave him a tiny smile from her safe spot under Hank’s chin. “Thanks, Creep.”

“No problem.” He winked and went out to patrol the perimeter of the scrapyard.

Soon it was just Megan, Hank, Taza and her Padrinos. Then men sat and let Megan calm as Hank rocked her.

“So, Poquito, ready to hang with the old guys for the afternoon?” Bishop asked with a smile. “Hank’s got a shift so we thought we’d take advantage and take you to look and Quince dresses. He’s not allowed to see your dress as your escort until your party anyway.”

Megan giggled as Hank groaned.

“Hey now. It’s tradition - and you best be making bouquet arrangements, hermano. You know that’s on you.” Marcus teased.

Hank chuckled. “You’re funny if you think I’ve got ANY say in that matter. Mama probably had had the flowers on order since we got back from the reservation run.”

Taza laughed outright. “You aren’t wrong. She asked me about colors at dinner the other night!”

Once they’d all had a good laugh at Hank’s expense, Megan spoke up hesitantly. “Could Letty come look at dresses with us? She’s really good with clothes.”

“Of course, Poquito. Maybe even see if she wants to be on your court, heh?” Bishop asked. “She could be your first maid. You really should have at least a small court.” He looked at everyone else. “Who could we get as her escort?”

Taza grinned. “Either make the Prospect do it or one of the other idiots.”

“The Prospect - definitely the Prospect. Coco would shoot our asses if we did Angel or Gilly and we’ll be lucky if Coco puts on clean jeans for the party,” Hank chuckled.

With all the talk of the party, Megan started to relax and come out of the shell she’d been hiding in. She’d uncurled some and was now more just resting back against Hank’s chest with a small smile.

Bishop grinned as Megan relaxed some more and even joined in the teasing. Even though he knew she was scared out of her wits - she was comfortable enough with just these few men to still relax. She was finally starting to realize that she was truely family and it made him very happy..

He stood and stretched. “I’m sending the prospect to pick up Letty. I know Chuckie was supposed to go, but I’d rather someone a little more alert pick her up to be safe.” He patted Hank and nudged Marcus. “C’mon Padrino, Taza. Let’s swap Megan’s stuff to our bikes.”

Marcus chuckled. “Not subtle Primo, but alright.” He winked at Megan and followed Bishop.

Taza chuckled and kissed Megan’s head. “Come find me when you’re ready?”

“Okay, Papa. Be there in a minute.”

The elders slipped out leaving Megan and Hank alone.

“What happened to two patches at all times?” Megan asked Hank with a grin.

Hank chuckled. “Guaranteed one of the assholes is right outside the door. It counts.” He nuzzled her gently before encouraging her to sit astraddle of his lap. Once she was settled. He lifted her chin to kiss her deeply and smiled as she melted into him. He held her close once he finally let her breathe and kept their foreheads pressed together. “You did good, Princessa. Real good. I’m proud of you.”

Megan fiddled with his rosary and sighed. “Do we trust Oakland?”

Hank nodded. “For the most part. They’re El Padrino’s home charter. The Mother Charter if you will. We trust them with club secrets and we trust them not to betray us to our enemies.” He gently stroked a wisp of hair out of her face. “Do I trust them alone with you? Hell no. But I don’t trust anyone but Taza and your Padrinos for that.” “Okay, so let’s keep my babysitters local if we can? Please? I know that’s a lot, but I don’t know those other guys.” Megan shrugged.

“Of course, Princessa.” Hank pressed another kiss to her lips. “Try to have fun with your tíos and papa this afternoon, huh? They’re excited to get to do this with you.”

Megan laughed. “We’ll see how excited they are after they see all the frills and lace.” She planted her knees and sat up tall to kiss him on a more even level, deepening this kiss and running her fingers through his hair.

Hank let her lead with a grin. She was getting comfortable with starting affection and he loved it… at least until he realized that he was going to pull a yard shift with his jeans tighter than they should be in a certain spot. He groaned and broke the kiss. “Mi Princessa… you are making it very difficult to let you go with your Papa this afternoon…”

She smiled and pecked his lips again slyly. “But now you’ll think of me this afternoon…”

He petted firmly down her spine to grasp her hips and sighed. “Definitely. Tell you what. We can’t exactly go on a date right now, but this evening - if you’re good - I’ll have you a surprise planned for at home.”

She nodded eagerly and kissed his jaw before allowing him to stand. She couldn’t help but giggle as he tugged his kutte straight but forgot to straighten the mess she’d made of his hair.

“Good girl. Let’s go find your pops, mi princessa. You’ve got shopping to do.”

#mayansmc #mayans mc #lost princessa #che taza romero #mayans mc fanfic #taza x daughter!oc #hank loza #megan(oc) x hank

43 notes · View notes

maatryoshkaa · 4 years

Text

young god | epilogue

chapters: | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11| 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | epilogue

word count: 4.4k

description: it’s been five years since the Miroh Heights murder cases came to a close — and five long, bittersweet years since you’d caught a glimpse of Han Jisung. Things in Miroh Heights have changed drastically since then — but when Felix sets you up on another blind date in an attempt to help you move on from the past, you realise that, once again, you’ve signed up for much more than you bargained for.

masterlist

recommended listening: stray kids - “sunshine”

epilogue.

“See ya, Miss l/n!”

You turned to wave back at the little girl who had called your name, her round eyes visibly bright from the waiting room of your clinic. Seven years old, front teeth just beginning to come in. One of her hands clutched a half-unwrapped lollipop as her mother held onto the other.

The first time you had seen them, the child had been unwilling to speak — bullied relentlessly at school, her mother had informed you through a veil of desperate tears — but now, her laughter filled the warm air, traumas that had once been etched into a too-young face already beginning to heal and fade.

Evening sunshine warmed your cheeks the moment you stepped out of the building’s doors, a light breeze rustling the papers in your hand as you quickly tucked them into your bag. “Five years of graduate school hasn’t made you more organised,” Felix often teased you, and you would smack his shoulder in retaliation.

Five years hadn’t changed your friendship in the slightest, either—and you had to admit you were beyond grateful for that.

As always, the city around you was humming with life: evening rush hour, with people darting here and there, frantically flagging down taxis and catching their buses. Usually, on days like these, you should have been hopping into the first cab home and collapsing like a corpse as soon as you reached your apartment. But today, you remembered with a sigh, was not going to be one of those days.

“Hey, Doctor l/n!”

You whipped your head towards the voice, a smile spreading across your tired features as you saw who it belonged to. In a slightly jaded Mini Cooper—second hand, of course, but worked just like new — Yang Jeongin waved at you from the driver’s seat.

“I’m not a doctor, ‘innie,” you reminded him playfully as he unlocked the passenger door and let you climb in.

“Not a doctor yet,” he corrected you, grinning. “Besides, ‘child therapist’ doesn’t have as much of a ring to it.”

You rolled your eyes, laughing, and waved at another one of your patients as Jeongin started the engine. “You really didn’t have to offer to drive me, you know — the streets are a nightmare during this hour.”

“It’s not that far,” Jeongin protested, “Plus, I barely get to see you now, you’re so busy.” You didn’t have the heart to argue. The kid loved being behind the wheel so much, he made it seem like you were doing him a favour.

You watched Jeongin turn onto the main road, squeezing the car in between a van and a motorcyclist. He really had grown up over the last few years — his hair was darker now, remarkably sharp cheekbones overtaking his once-rounded cherub cheeks — but in some ways, nothing had changed at all. He still had that natural knack of brightening whatever room he stepped in — the Yang Jeongin effect, Hyunjin called it. And his heart was still too big for his own good: you remembered how he had adamantly refused to take the money Jisung kept offering him after the case had finally closed, and when Hyunjin had asked him why, Jeongin had simply replied, “After everything that’s happened, it doesn’t feel like he’s the one who owes me.”

On the other hand, Jeongin had been more than happy to take Prosecutor Kang’s compensation money instead, and had finally visited a car dealership with you and Hyunjin.

The moment he had seen the Mini-Cooper — a beat-up thing from the 90s that you were amazed was still running — the younger boy’s eyes had lit up. “It’s just...it looks like the one our family used to have, before...the incident,” he had explained sheepishly, making you and Hyunjin exchange a look. And so, after a fiery back-and-forth between you and the salesman—not to mention a few sleepless nights at the mechanic’s — the rest was history.

The light turned green, and you spotted a photograph wobbling on the dashboard — a laughing child you recognised immediately as Jeongin. Behind him, a woman with a familiar wide smile had her arms around a man with eyes resembling a fox’s, with none of the slyness. “How’s your dad these days?”

“Mostly stays at home taking care of my mum, but he swears he wouldn’t have it any other way.” Jeongin turned his head to you excitedly, as if a thought just hit him. “She got out of bed a couple days ago, you know? The first time ever since my dad left.”

Your mouth fell open in a surprised smile, and Jeongin continued, “He’s real excited he got to teach me how to drive, too. I think he feels like he missed out on a lot of things, like...walking me home from school. Teaching me how to ride a bike. Graduation.” He shrugged. His words might have sounded sad at first, but you could see the way the lines of Jeongin’s face were more relaxed now, at peace.

“Mind if I make a quick stop?” Jeongin asked abruptly, and you checked your watch before shaking your head lightly.

“I’m still about twenty minutes early. We’ve got plenty of time.”

He turned onto a familiar street, and you rolled down the window as Glow Cafe slowly came into view. It was just as busy as it had ever been — even the cars were stalling by the curb — but Hwang Hyunjin spotted you almost immediately, waving through the glass window. Quickly hopping out, Jeongin popped the trunk open, and you watched him haul two crates of coffee beans into the bustling cafe. The once-famed “delivery boy” of Miroh Heights only really did deliveries for Glow Cafe now, after Hyunjin had offered Jeongin a position as a barista until he graduated—and although he wasn’t the best with his hands (or his memory, for that matter), Hyunjin didn’t mind in the slightest.

“Him being here is more than enough for business. You should see the students flock in here every morning just to catch a glimpse of him.” The former barista snorted. “What’d I tell you? They’re eating him right up.”

They waved at Jeongin now as he jogged obliviously out of the cafe, Hyunjin’s laughs muted by the glass as he threw you a knowing wink. He had graduated himself, two years ago, officially inheriting the business after his grandmother had passed away. Glow Cafe had since come a long way, with Hyunjin always at the forefront of new design ideas and enthusiastically telling you about his plans to expand even more in the future.

“Get this: ‘CEO Hwang, the most eligible bachelor of Miroh Heights,’” Felix held up his hands as if picturing a giant headline, giving his signature wolf whistle as you burst into laughter and Hyunjin kicked the blond man in the shin. “Ow!”

“How did you even get into the press with those cheesy titles?” Hyunjin groaned.

“Not just ‘get into the press’, ‘jinnie,” you reminded him, giggling, “he’s the head journalist now!”

It was true—with his impeccable wit and seamless way with words, it came to nobody’s surprise when Felix maneuvered his way to the top of the local press in a matter of years. The head of the press still loathed him with a biting passion— “I can feel her glares all the way from her office,” Felix retorted — and rumour had it that the two seemed to fire shots at each other all day long. The image of a powder-faced, middle-aged woman bickering with your notoriously insufferable best friend made you laugh, but you also knew deep down that Felix always took his job more seriously than he let on. His eloquent articles had gotten his name out across the city in no time, and so you took comfort in knowing that — no matter how hard the head of the press bared her teeth—nobody could touch Lee Felix now.

Five years, you thought to yourself wistfully, eyes catching a familiar detective’s office as Jeongin drove past. What a trip down memory lane. You’d seldom come by this part of town since then, and seeing the familiar buildings sent a flood of memories and mixed feelings stirring in your chest.

The well-loved Detective Bang, much to the disappointment of adoring students and professors alike, had moved abroad to a bigger city—whether he had been taken by a new precinct, or a new big case, you couldn’t be sure. “Rumour has it he’s doing undercover work now,” Seungmin had mentioned to you once in passing, “We haven’t heard from him in a while, but he’s making a big name for himself out there, that’s for sure.”

The District Nine police station whizzed by you in a blur, and more of the prosecutor’s words rang through your head.

“Meanwhile, the chief of police keeps insisting he’s glad to be rid of him, but we all know he secretly misses Chan.” Seungmin had shaken his head, and you had smiled at the image of the stoic police captain—chief, now—grudgingly sulking over the loss of his best friend.

Jeongin made one last turn, and the narrow buildings opened up into the heart of Miroh Heights—the oldest part of town, where the roller rink, record shop, and the diner were. The sight of Mia’s Diner made you sink down instinctively in the passenger seat, and you couldn’t keep the raw dread out of your voice as you let out a long sigh.

Jeongin gave you sympathetic look. “For someone who’s going on a blind date, you don’t sound too happy.”

“That’s because I’m not, Jeongin. I don’t even know why Felix keeps insisting on these. The last time I agreed to one was—” you broke off before you could finish what you were saying, the unspoken words echoing in your mind. The last time I agreed to one was when I met Jisung.

That’s right—the last official blind date you had been on, you had met Han Jisung — and he had turned your entire world upside down. For years afterwards, you had told yourself that you wouldn’t take that day back for the entire world, but now...now, you weren’t so sure.

After all, how could you be sure of someone you hadn’t heard from in over five years?

The rehabilitation centre didn’t allow letters in or out— you had learned that the hard way after your first letters had been sent directly back to your doorstep. Usually, they had told you, if things went well, patients could start correspondence again after a year or so—but you had gotten absolutely nothing. Not a single word.

Five years—he should have been out by now. He could have been anywhere, doing anything—but he certainly hadn’t remembered to write or even call you.

Had he really forgotten about you?

“Five years is a long time, y/n,” Felix told you gently, after you had adamantly refused the blind date he kept insisting on. “People...change, and maybe he’s—moved on.”

Moved on.

You didn’t know how to tell Felix how much the thought of that hurt more than you were willing to admit, how this was the sole reason why you hadn’t been able to go on a single date for the past five years. You didn’t know how to tell him that Jisung hadn’t left your mind since the moment he had disappeared from your sight, five years ago, in the corridor of that courthouse.

“I’ll be waiting,” Jisung had said. And yet he was nowhere to be found. Meanwhile, Felix wasn’t taking no for an answer.

“You’re in your mid-twenties now, y/n. Loosen up a little, yeah? You’re allowed to go on dates, for goodness’ sake.”

“I’m hopeless, ‘lix. I’m pretty sure the stray dog on the street has a more interesting love life than me.”

“Maybe,” Felix mused, “I think I saw it running around with a litter of puppies the other da—ow!”

“You okay? You look kind of sick,” Jeongin remarked, pulling you out of your thoughts. “Got everything you need?”

You resisted the urge to laugh. If only Jeongin knew how you had prepared for this date—by mapping out all the ways you were going to end it as quickly as possible. Faking food poisoning? Check. Arrange a time for a friend to call you and pretend an emergency came up? Check— although Hyunjin had had a strange glint in his eyes when he had agreed to it. Worst comes to worst? Pepper spray, check. You let out a slow exhale. “Sure. All set.”

You thanked Jeongin with a hug and hopped out of the car. Just as you began walking towards the diner, you heard him call out behind you.

“Oh, yeah, Felix told me pass on a message — from him to you.” You turned back, and Jeongin gave a boyish grin that was half apologetic, half laughing. “‘Go get ‘em, tiger!’”

You gave an exasperated cry and yanked open the diner door.

━━━━━━━━

You were beginning to wonder if you’d been stood up.

Mia’s Diner was usually busy, bustling with students and townspeople alike, and tonight it truly was: booths packed with couples both old and new, laughter and the smell of food wafting through the warm air as friends and families celebrated the start of summer. The jukebox was on and playing an old disco song you liked but didn’t know the name of, the checkered floor tiles clicking with the sounds of brisk waitresses’ heels and dancing feet.

You didn’t know why Felix had insisted on coming here, of all places, what with the mixed emotions and memories you had tied to it, but you had to admit that the jovial atmosphere of Mia’s Diner on a Friday night never really disappointed. You found yourself relaxing slightly—just slightly, bobbing your head lightly to the music.

“Mia’s Diner?” You repeated incredulously. “Seriously, Felix, do you only know one date location? For the so-called ‘Matchmaker of Miroh Heights’, you’re sure lacking in the variety department.”

“Easy, tiger. Just trust me on this one, okay? You’re gonna owe me one.”

“I’m not—” you began indignantly, but Felix continued.

“Plus, the poor guy in question hasn’t been on a date in years, either. You both need this.”

“Years? Are you setting me up with a hermit?”

“Oh, yeah. A big-time loser, seriously— but don’t tell him I said that. Just — indulge him a bit, okay, y/n? I promise you won’t regret it.”

And so, for the second time, Felix’s schemes and pleading puppy eyes had gotten you here—sitting at an empty booth, waiting for a blind date. He hadn’t even bothered to show you a picture of the man in question. You couldn’t help the smile from slowly slipping from your face as each minute passed, and you nibbled your lip anxiously.

Your date was thirty minutes late.

You peered out the window, at the lights of the town glowing a faint neon against the clear evening skies. Each time a car filled in a parking space, you sat up, craning your neck to see if it was him—before slumping back down in disappointment. Five years, you thought to yourself glumly. Five years, and you still had no luck with dates. Maybe you just had no luck with love, you thought dryly. You imagined Felix laughing later when you told him about it and sighed, a twinge of worry replacing the dread in your gut.

Had something gone wrong?

After turning the waitress away for the eighth time, you fished out your phone from your pocket, tapping on the foreign number Felix had given you. Zero new messages, zero missed calls. At least I can tell Felix I tried, you thought glumly. Maybe I should just call Jeongin again, and ask him to pick me up. And then you could drop by Glow Cafe for a bit, before trudging back to your apartment like a fallen soldier.

Just as you were punching in Jeongin’s name, feeling a sense of guilty relief wash over you, you vaguely registered the diner door swinging open beneath the lively music, and a pair of footsteps trying to shuffle past the dancing couples.

For a split second, you thought you saw a pair of tattered black Converse—laces untied, soles worn—but the mirage disappeared, and was replaced by a pair of dress shoes that eventually came to a stop at your booth. You sighed, fighting back the tears that had suddenly threatened to well in your eyes. Shit. This is not the time to be thinking about him. Why were you still thinking about him? And why on earth had you agreed to this?

You lifted your gaze, trying to muster up a smile, hoping your disappointment didn’t show on your face—

And immediately froze.

“Hello.”

Standing before you, looking almost like an apparition — a golden silhouette against the backdrop of the dim diner — was Han Jisung.

You had to blink several times to realise you weren’t hallucinating again. He looked...different, and yet in some ways, he looked entirely the same: his hair was shorter, but tousled as it had always been, cheeks flushed and breathless as if—as if he’d been running through a storm.

You felt your body moving before any intelligible thoughts could form in your head, pulling you forwards like a magnet until you were standing face-to-face, your shaky eyes darting across his features, not daring to believe what you were seeing.

All of a sudden, the glint in Hyunjin and Jeongin’s eyes made sense, Felix’s words replaying in your head as overwhelmed tears began welling in your eyes without warning.

“The poor guy in question hasn’t been on a date in years, either.”

“A big-time loser, seriously — but don’t tell him I said that. Just — indulge him a bit, okay, y/n? I promise you won’t regret it.”

“Y-you—are such a dork,” you stammered out, one hand weakly hitting Jisung’s chest as you felt the tears finally spill down your face. “Han Jisung, you are such a d—”

Your words were cut off when Jisung pulled you into his arms, his head falling to rest in the crook of your neck. Your shoulders shook with muffled sobs as you buried your face in his chest, memorising everything about this feeling, not wanting to take a single second for granted, memorising everything about him. Jisung no longer carried with him that scent of gasoline and fire — instead, he smelled faintly of lemongrass, and a hint of warm, fresh laundry.

“I missed you,” you finally whispered hoarsely, “I just—missed you, so much.”

He chuckled in your ear, the low, familiar hum stirring faint, faraway memories in your head, and you gripped onto his shirt harder, as if he would disappear completely if you didn’t hold on tight enough.

Jisung had found you in the crowded diner before you had seen him — just like the first time he had met you. And just like the first time, he had felt his breath hitch in his throat, hands hesitating on the door, wondering if he should turn back instead. He had watched you bob your head gently to the music, a small, tentative smile on your face.

You looked good — no, amazing. Different, and yet entirely the same. Kind, worried eyes catching him completely off guard, like the flash of a camera.

Just as bright.

Just as brilliant.

The truth was, there hadn’t been a single day where he hadn’t thought of you — of your voice, your touch, your laugh. Jisung had asked Felix for help the moment he had gotten released, but what he hadn’t forseen was your reaction.

“She won’t go on a blind date, mate,” Felix had informed him exasperatedly, “Took weeks of convincing. Good news, though — she finally caved. You sneaky, hopeless romantic bastard.”

She might have forgotten me, Jisung had thought. And even if you hadn’t, you might not even welcome the sight of him—after all, he hadn’t been in touch since he had left, all those years ago. But in the end, the inexplicable pull in his chest had grown unbearable, and he found himself walking towards you, wading through the crowd, feeling the ache in his heart softening with each step he took. All the way back to you.

You pulled away slowly, vision blurry as Jisung lifted a hand to cup your face, never taking eyes off yours. He had grown in the time you had been apart—he was taller, his once-lean frame stronger—and, most of all, there was a light in his eyes that hadn’t been there before.

“Hey, pretty girl,” he murmured softly, and you laughed in disbelief, “I think you’re my blind date.”

“How—w-why—”

“I told you I wanted to do this all over again, didn’t I? And I promised that I would try to do it right this time.” Jisung smiled apologetically, wiping your tear stained cheeks with his thumb. “I’m sorry it took so long.”

You shook your head, eyes widening when you saw what he had been carefully clutching in his other hand: a small bouquet of sunflowers, their golden yellow petals as tousled as Jisung’s own blond locks.

“Apparently they symbolise new beginnings,” Jisung said, pulling a stray petal from your hair and chuckling, “Keeping promises. Eternal happiness. That kind of thing.”

“Why didn’t you write?” You whispered, as Jisung tucked the bouquet into your hands.

“I wanted to...to heal. In every sense of the word. I didn’t want to show you, until I...knew I was really better. Believe me, I wanted to.” Jisung’s voice dropped to a whisper, as if he were fighting back tears. “I wanted to, so, so badly.”

You shook your head, mumbling something about how much of a stubborn idiot he was, and Jisung’s laugh made a hesitant smile tug at your lips. As if sensing the lightening atmosphere, the waitress had promptly appeared behind Jisung and meekly cleared her throat, setting down the menu. Jisung turned back to look at you, his grin growing playful.

“I hope you’re hungry?”

The diner seemed to come back to you all at once in a flood of senses, the music and murmur of restaurant goers sending a pleasant hum through your veins as you and Jisung sat down. The night went by in a warm blur, Jisung telling you about his life at the institute, the unlikely friends he had made, the dreams he hadn’t realised he had.

“I’m going to go back to school,” he admitted, one hand rubbing the back of his neck shyly. “I’ll be a bit behind, but...I want to study something I actually like this time.”

You had told him about how you had been working in a child therapy ward ever since you had graduated, about all the children you had met and loved and cared for. As you talked about them, you saw a wistful look in Jisung’s eyes, and a thought crossed your mind. “Have you heard anything from—from Minho?”

He gave a small smile, but shook his head. “Rarely. It hasn’t been long since he was released, but he said he was planning on going abroad. Doing some travelling. I think...he’ll reach out when he’s ready.” He then added, as an afterthought, “And if he doesn’t, I wouldn’t blame him.”

The sad simplicity of Jisung’s words stirred a strange feeling you couldn’t quite place in your chest, and your mind flashed back to the cold-eyed coroner and his stiff smiles; then, to the raw pain that had cracked through his strained features the last time you had caught a glimpse of him. Maybe you would meet again one day, or maybe that truly would be the last you ever heard of him.

Healing of the mind, you knew, was a strange process—one that always took much longer than you would expect. There were always scars that reopened along the way, old hidden wounds that surfaced right when you least expected them. There would always be answers you might never find, you mused sadly, closure you might never get.

But sometimes, you thought as you listened to Jisung talk, memorizing the feeling of his fingers interlaced with yours, sometimes we can only hope to hold onto what we already have.

The end of the night drew closer, and when Jisung and you had stepped outside the diner, the city was swimming in the dark ochre of the setting sun. Eventually, the two of you ended up back in the wide garden behind the hospital, your laughs and giddy conversation slowly hushing into softer murmurs. In the distance, the rush of cars on the main road grew sparser, the windows of the buildings around you flickering to life one by one like young stars. Here, though, as you rested your head on Jisung’s shoulder beneath a willow tree, the world seemed to stand still, and all was quiet.

You heard Jisung yelp suddenly and looked down to see a familiar dog pattering around your feet—a stray, with scraggly fur like an overgrown teddy bear that had been through the wash one too many times. It immediately pounced onto Jisung, beginning to lick your boyfriend’s face like no tomorrow.

“Oof! Hey there, old buddy.”

You laughed, scooping the dog off—only after it had gotten a few slobbery licks in—and shivered slightly as a cool night wind swept past you. Noticing, Jisung shrugged off his jacket, draping it over your shoulders as you raised a teasing eyebrow at the cliche move.

“It looks good on you,” Jisung insisted, and you laughed incredulously.

“Your jacket?” You asked, ruffling the dog’s ears as it curled up at your feet.

At that, Jisung looked back up at you—seeing the faint outline of your smile in the dark, your eyes sparkling as you looked back at him expectantly, obliviously—and in that moment, Jisung wondered what he had ever done to deserve someone as perfect as you.

After a beat, he replied, “Happiness. Happy looks good on you, love.”

Your mouth parted in surprise—both at his words, and at the unexpected name—and Jisung took the chance to lean in and kiss you, pressing his soft lips to yours. Gently, at first — carefully, but as you began to kiss him back, you felt Jisung slowly relax. You kissed him the way you had wanted to for so long, feeling the years of distance, of heartache, of endless waiting finally unravel beneath your lips. His hands reached up to gingerly cup your face, pulling you closer into him as if he never intended to let go.

Happy looks good on you, too, Han Jisung, you wanted to say once you pulled away, forehead still lightly pressed to his. And you deserve it, more than anything. You watched Jisung’s features come back into focus beneath the dim moonlight. His gaze was fixed on yours, filled with nothing but pure adoration, and you felt a sudden surge of warmth coursing through your chest.

I love you, you wanted to tell him, more than you could ever know — but something in the warm yet playful look in Jisung’s eyes told you that he was already thinking the exact same thing.

So you just smiled, and leaned in to kiss him again.

YOUNG GOD | END

ryu says: to you — yes, you, who has reached the end of this series! this epilogue is my way of saying a big thank you to those who stayed along for the entire wild ride that was young god. thank you for loving the characters, the world of miroh heights, and of course, the story! there are easter eggs and full-circle moments all throughout this epilogue, so i hope you enjoy and have fun finding them all ^^

disclaimer: in my opinion, all epilogues are open to interpretation: i’ve left some characters’ stories untold, some loose ends untied for this exact reason. miroh heights’ story has finally come to a close here, but what happens to the characters from this moment on continues in the reader’s mind now.

all that cheesy, pretentious stuff aside, i hope to see you in the next story!

859 notes · View notes

supernatural-fangirl1967 · 3 years

Text

Doctor’s Orders

Pairing: Doctor!Dean x Reader

Warnings: Injury, Fluff

Word Count: 2,129

Square Filled: Ice Cream Date

A/N: This was written for @spnfluffbingo. Please let me know what you think!

“Your mother is going to kill me for this," you sigh as you give your niece a pointed look.

"Sorry," she giggles.

"This isn't funny, Amber," you tell her as you walk over to sit down beside of her on the hospital bed. "Do you know that you could have been seriously injured?”

“Yes, Ma'am," the five year old says as she withers underneath your gaze.

"When I told you to slow the bike down and to put both hands on the handle bars, this is why."

"I'm sorry," she whispers.

You sigh and carefully wrap an arm around her little body. "I don't need you to be sorry," you tell her softly. "I need you to be safe and to promise me that you will start listening to me."

"Okay," she frowns.

"I know that I've been the cool aunt so far but you have got to understand that there has to be limits."

"So, how's the little tree hugger doing today?"

You scowl as the doctor walks into the room and he gives you a friendly smile. "Tree hugger?" you ask him. "My niece almost breaks her neck wrecking her bike and you're making jokes about it?"

The doctor chuckles as he walks over towards Amber's bed. "I see that someone is still living the adrenaline high," he smiles. "Now, do I need to make sure that there aren't any pointy objects around when I ask if you'll kindly get off the bed, or do you think that that's a safe question?"

You roll your eyes as you stand up off the bed and walk over to plop down in the chair. You pull your phone out and you type out a reply to one of the hundreds of texts that your sister has sent you in the past two minutes.

"Of course, you just had to go and break your arm while your parents were vacationing out of town," you sigh as you look over at Amber once more.

"I take it that you're the aunt," the doctor says as he smile over at you.

"Guilty as charged," you tell him as you squint a bit to read his nametag. "Doctor Winchester."

"Dean," he smiles.

"Fine. Dean," you say and you stand up off of the chair before walking over towards the hospital bed once more. "Is the wild child going to be okay?"

"Well, we still need to run a head x-ray for good measure," Dean tells you as he softly prods Amber's arm a bit, wincing when she lets out a pitiful whine. "I know, sweetheart," Dean tells her softly before continuing to answer your question. “But right now the big thing is getting this arm in a cast."

"It's broke?" you ask him.

"X-rays showed a break and a small hairline fracture near the wrist," Dean nods. "But don't worry." He turns around to face you and you are starting to get a little bit annoyed by his sunny attitude. "A cast, some good pain medicine, plenty of rest, and some ice cream should make that arm feel as good as new."

"Great," you sigh. "I guess now I know where I have to stop when we leave here."

Dean chuckles before turning to face Amber once more. "We'll get that arm fixed up for you and make sure that there's no more damaged, and then you be sure that your aunt takes you to get some ice cream."

"Okay," she giggles.

Dean looks over at you and you can see a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Or," he smiles. "I might ought to tag along to make sure that your aunt there follows doctor's orders."

Your mouth drops open. "Please tell me that you didn't just ask me out on a date."

"I don't know," Dean shrugs with a smirk on his face. "What did it sound like to you?"

"It sounded like you just went the round about way of asking me out on a date."

"Well," Dean smiles as he stands up straight and crosses his arms over his chest. "I must be smoother than I thought."

You roll your eyes and take a deep breath. "Fine," you sigh. "You can tag along."

Dean smiles before turning to face Amber once more. "I can clock out in an hour. Meet me by the side door to the emergency room once this little gal gets all fixed up."

"Alright," you tell him.

Dean gives Amber a wink before walking over to one of the cabinets and pulling out a sucker. "Here," he smiles as he hands it over to Amber. "You've earned it."

When Dean walks out of the room, you walk over to Amber and take the sucker out of her hand. She pouts up at you but you give her a stern look.

"If you eat the sucker then that means no ice cream."

"Nevermind," Amber smiles.

"Yeah, that's what I thought," you say and you walk over to sit down in the chair once more.

"Well, someone's looking a lot less stressed," Dean says as you carry Amber out of the emergency room and over towards him.

"Yeah," you sigh as you carefully let go of Amber. "Sorry about being so uptight while ago with everything. With my sister and brother-in-law being away on vacation, I'm in charge of Amber and if something happened to her while in my care.."

"I get it," Dean says as he holds a hand up at you to stop your rambling. "Why don't we just go get some ice cream into that girl because if we don't follow doctor's orders, then her arm might not heal properly."

"You're full of it," you laugh as you motion Amber over to your car.

"I can drive us," Dean tells you.

"That's alright," you smile. "Amber's carseat is in my car anyways."

"I have a carseat." You give Dean a look and he laughs. "I have a niece too, so when I told you that I understood, I meant it. Believe me."

"Fine," you smile. "We'll ride with you." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Slow down there, sweetheart," Dean chuckles as Amber takes big bites off her ice cream cone. "There's no cure for brain freeze you know." Amber giggles as she tilts her chair forward so that she's able to reach the napkins on the table.

"Sit down in your chair!" you scold as you reach over to help her. "We don't need you falling and breaking your other arm."

"Someone needs to relax," Dean says, hiding his smile behind his cone when you scowl over at him.

"I will relax once I get that kid wrapped up completely in bubble wrap," you tell him.

"(Y/N), I'm all sticky."

"Go to the bathroom and grab some wet paper towels," you tell her. Amber nods before jumping down out of her chair and running over towards the doors that have the big ice cream cones on them. "And be careful to not get the cast wet."

"Yes, Ma'am," Amber says sweetly before running on inside. Sighing, you glance down at your melting ice cream before looking over at Dean.

"Be honest. How uptight have I been?" you ask him.

"You kidding me?" Dean smiles. "This is technically a first date you know and you've got me scared to make a move."

"Oh, like the fact that there's a five year old sitting across the table from us hasn't stopped you."

"That's never been an issue on any previous dates," Dean smirks at you and you roll your eyes a bit at him.

"I guess that I could probably calm down a little bit," you say and you take a bite of what was once a bowl of ice cream and is now more like soup.

"More than a little bit," Dean mutters and laughs when you scowl at him once more. "Hey, doctor's orders," he tells you softly.

"Yeah, well, I think that I need to find myself a new doctor," you mutter. You try and hide your smile when Dean scoffs at you.

"Well, maybe you just aren't that good of a patient," Dean tells you and you both smile at each other. "See?" he laughs. "You're bring a little bit nicer to me already."

"I was being nice," you tell him.

"Sweetheart, there's a difference between being nice and suppressing the urge to punch something," Dean chuckles. You laugh and playfully roll you eyes a bit at him.

"I wasn't wanting to punch you or anybody else," you tell him.

"I said something. Not someone," Dean chuckles.

"(Y/N)," Amber says as she runs over to you.

"Here," you tell her and you take the paper towels from her before helping her to wipe the sticky mess off of both of her little hands. "Honey, you do know that I wasn't mad at you, right?" you ask her. "I was just scared that you were hurt and it made me grumpy."

"I know," Amber smiles. "You must be scared that I'm going to get hurt all of the time then because you're grumpy a lot." Dean snorts trying to hold in a laugh.

"That will be enough out of you," you say and you turn your head a bit so that you're looking over your shoulder at him.

"Sorry," Dean chuckles. You roll your eyes and pull Amber up into your lap, holding tightly onto her as the both of you talk about anything and everything. "I think that someone's giving out on us," Dean chuckles as he nods down to where Amber is lying limp in your arms.

"I think so," you smile as you go to stand up out of your chair.

"Let me take her, sweetheart," Dean tells you. "Doctor's orders," he smiles when he sees that you're going to protest. You nod and Dean smiles as he bends down to take your niece out of your arms.

"That was sort of fun even if I was uptight most of the time," you tell Dean as he pulls up beside of your car in the hospital parking lot.

"Yeah," Dean smiles as you get out of his car and open up the door to get Amber. Dean hops out and walks around to help you, carefully taking Amber out of your arms and holding tightly onto her. Dean walks over to your car and you stand by as he straps Amber into her seat. Dean shuts the door to your can before turning around to face you once more.

"Thanks," you tell him softly. "I guess that I needed that to calm down."

"No problem," Dean smiles as he shoves his hands into his pockets. "It was doctor's orders." You laugh and you nod your head a bit at Dean. "But we might want to do a follow up just to be sure."

You bite your lip trying to keep yourself from smiling at the dork. "Oh?" you ask him.

"Yeah," Dean smiles. "How about tomorrow? Same time, different place?" "I think that I'm free but I might need a doctor's excuse," you smile. "Where do you want me to meet you at?"

"How about I give you my number and you can text me your address?"

"Oh, you make house calls?" you ask him.

Dean drops his head and you can see shoulders move as he chuckles. Dean brings his head up once more to look at you. "I make exceptions."

"Good," you laugh. "Is there anything other orders that the doctor needs to give me?"

"Nope," Dean grins. "Well, actually, there is one little thing that you might need to hold you over."

"What's that?" you ask him.

Dean just smiles at you as he leans in to take your face between both of his hands. Your breath catches in your throat as Dean leans in to press his lips firmly to yours. Your body practically melts in Dean's hold as his lips move against yours. Dean slowly pulls away with a smile on his face and he looks you in the eyes.

"A goodnight kiss," he breathes out softly. "How are you feeling now?"

"Like I might need a little bit more to hold me over," you say and Dean chuckles as he leans in once more.

"How's that?" he asks.

"Mmm. Maybe one more?"

"Don't want to overdose, sweetheart."

"Dork," you giggle. Dean winks at you before turning to walk away. "Hey, Dean?"

"Hm?" Dean asks as he turns around to face you once more.

"Thanks for taking care of my niece for me today," you tell him.

"No problem, sweetheart," Dean shrugs. "Just doing my job."

You nod and turn to get in your car. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Dean nods and he gives you a wide smile. "See ya tomorrow, sweetheart."

Tags: @polina-93 @campingmonkey @justanotherwinchester @squirrelnotsam @adoptdontshoppets @imaginationisgrowth @deanwanddamons @hobby27 @cookiechipdough @akshi8278 @flamencodiva @torn-and-frayed @thatmotleygirl @screechingartisancashbailiff @lyarr24

#spnfluffbingo #dean x reader #dean x you #dean x y/n #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural #SPN #fanfic

88 notes · View notes

collecting-stories · 3 years

Text

Flowers on the Grave - c. 10 - JJ Maybank

Summary: Everything finally comes to a head.

A/N: So...massive thanks for following this series all the way through to the end. Seriously, means so much to me cause I was so unsure of this when I started it.

You Are Ok Masterlist | Outer Banks Masterlist

✞ I was on the verge of breaking down when you came around ✞

The phone rang, shrill in your ear, and you felt like a weight had settled on your chest as you waited for someone to answer.

Timothy was talking about the same three things that he had overwhelmed you with at the Wreck. Getting his pilot’s license, becoming a missionary, and his strength in the Lord. When he said it you could almost feel your father’s gaze burning into you, your own strength barely a register on the scale.

He had questioned you further the night before, after he had sent everyone home you had spent nearly the entire night sitting at the kitchen table with the two of them, demanding a repentance for your sins as you tried not to tell them everything that you had done to betray them. If they knew half of it...if only there were nunneries for Baptists. Your eyes had stayed on the clock, watching minutes turn to hours and knowing that JJ was waiting for you. That you wouldn’t make it.

Now you sat in the living room, watching those same minutes tick away, an escape plan the only thing on your mind as you listened to all the voices around you mingling. All you could imagine was yourself with JJ in Charleston and you desperately wanted to be there, wished you could transport yourself there.

You excused yourself from the couch beside Timothy, walking into the kitchen under the guise of needing something to drink. In actuality you just needed the moment to breathe. Everyone in the living room seemed fixated on the impending nuptials, regardless of the fact that Timothy had yet to propose to you. It didn’t seem to bother anyone, Timothy’s mom and your’s gushing about what sort of dress you would wear and your flowers. Every second spent with them felt like you were sinking further beneath the waves, unable to get your bearings, you imagined yourself drowning in all of this.

You glanced over your shoulder to make sure no one was watching you before sneaking out the kitchen door, pulling it closed behind you so that it didn’t make any noise. The back patio had been cleaned off and all the kids were around the front of the house, playing between the church and the front porch.

“Ace,” the familiar voice came from your left and you almost burst into tears at the sight of JJ stepping onto the patio, careful to stay out of view of the window.

“JJ...I-”

“It’s okay,” he said, cutting you off. His eyes looked bloodshot, more so than when he smoked too much and you realized that he looked like he had been crying. “It’s okay...I know your family is inside and all, I just wanted to stop by to, uh, to see you...” he trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

“What, I don’t-”

“I understand, I swear. I knew that you might not come, that wasn’t like...I get it.” He insisted.

“No, JJ...” you shook your head. Careful not to draw attention to yourself as you slipped passed the window to meet him at the edge of the patio, you placed your hands on either side of his face, heartbreaking at the way he turned his eyes away, “my parents found your vape pen in the house. I...my dad like freaked out on me, I’ve never seen him like that. I couldn’t come to see you, I wanted to, so badly...I still want to.” You swore. “I love you.”

The words processed a little slowly, giving you the opportunity to watch JJ’s face as realisation sunk in. You hadn’t left him waiting at the Phantom because you were choosing what your family wanted, you hadn’t been able to get there. “Seriously?”

“Yes, I swear. I told you I was coming and I was. I just-”

“Hey, it’s alright, I get it.” He promised. He knew how dependent on your family you felt. How dependent they made you feel.

“Is it too late?” You asked, looking back to the screen door as if someone would walk through. The bruise on your arm was still there, stinging under the sleeve of your dress but somehow it didn’t feel as harsh as before, as much like a shackle as it had last night, “is it too late to leave?”

JJ looked surprised, “you still want to?”

“Yes. But we have to go now.” You knew there was no way you could go back inside that house.

The renewed sense of optimism that gripped JJ was not without understanding that your window oy opportunity was limited. Leave now and you still had the chance to make it to Charleston before dark, wait and there was a chance someone would step outside and see you.

“Okay.”

Your absence was becoming increasingly noticeable until finally your mother stood up, promising that she would be back in just a moment, she needed to find you first. “She has a tendency to wander off, probably playing with the children.” She explained as she walked into the kitchen, positive that she had just heard the screen door creak shut.

Stepping out onto the porch, she looked quickly around the yard, a survey of the area within the trees, looking for you by the clothesline or the church or the old swings that had been set up nearly five children ago. You weren’t there though, the yard was empty. She pushed the door open again, walking back into the kitchen and catching sight of the refrigerator. A note, scrawled on the grocery pad that was kept by the door, had been tacked to the front of the fridge along with a delicate gold cross hanging from a chain.

Mom + Dad,

Sorry, I told dad I wouldn’t marry Timmy and I meant it. Call you when I can.

Ace

Your mother screamed so loud it was a wonder that you didn’t hear it, running through the trees with JJ, your hand in his. Once the woods parted to make way for the closest drive-way you saw JJ’s dirt bike. There were plenty of times that you had almost taken him up on the offer of riding on the back of the bike with him but you always backed out at the last second, far too terrified of falling off or getting hurt. Today you hardly thought twice of it, climbing on the rungs and wrapping your arms around his shoulders. You leaned forward, kissing JJ’s cheek before he kicked up the stand and took off, “I love you.”

“Love you.” JJ replied quickly before taking off, grinning at the feeling of your grip on his shoulders tightening.

The middle of the afternoon was far different from midnight and Heyward’s was open, Pope and Kiara coming out when they heard the sound of the dirt bike, as if they’d been waiting. The moment you each dismounted Kiara was pulling you into a hug, swearing that she ‘knew it’, knew you weren’t standing him up. She passed you over to Pope, who hugged you and whispered in your ear that he was glad you came, knowing without having to tell you that you understood just how much this relationship meant to JJ.

“Come on,” JJ grabbed your hand, pulling you away from them. “We gotta go.”

“You can take ten seconds to give me a hug JJ,” Kiara said, already pulling him into a hug.

“Okay, okay,” he laughed, hugging her back and lifting her a little off the ground before letting her go, “we need to leave, I love you guys, I’ll see ya soon.”

“See ya man,” Pope hugged him, “call us.”

JJ was guiding you away from them again, over to where he had docked the Phantom. He had taken your duffel bag the day before and it was still sitting there under the bench along with his backpack. The last time you had been on a boat with JJ had been out on the Pogue, in the Marsh. This was a lot different, the outlet to the ocean just beyond your vision but getting closer as JJ steered the Phantom. Kiara and Pope shouted their goodbyes from the jetty and you waved, suddenly feeling like that weight that settled on your chest was gone.

“Are you freaking out?” JJ asked, catching your attention.

You got up from the bench, careful as you walked over to him. “No but I'm sure my mom is.” You replied, laughing a little when JJ wrapped his arm around your waist and guided you in front of him, putting you between him and the wheel. You turned your head, tilting back to kiss him.

A police car rushed past Kiara and Pope as they stood outside of Heyward’s, heading in the direction of the church and your house. When Shoupe pulled in, the yard was quiet. Your siblings and their families were all inside, your oldest sister trying to do damage control with Timothy’s family while your mom and dad stood outside, your mom clutching the letter and the necklace.

The cross was something that your mom had given you on your thirteenth birthday, a symbol of your devotion and love for the Lord, now it was tucked in her hand as she tried not to absolutely fall apart. Timothy’s mother was simply upset that you had seemingly skipped out on her son but your mom was dealing with the reality that you were gone and she had no idea where you would even go.

“When was the last time you saw her?” Shoupe asked, skeptical as he took down your information. You were 18, according to your parents, 18-year-olds didn’t need permission to leave home without telling anyone. So far, he was unconvinced of a crime.

“Hardly an hour ago.” Your mom replied, thrusting the note into his hand, “she left this...I know that boy she was sneaking around with put her up to it.”

“Do you know this boy’s name?” he asked, looking over the vague note you had left.

“JJ Maybank.” Your father said.

Shoupe frowned, if there was any name that immediately sparked his interest it was JJ’s. It didn’t matter whether JJ was guilty of something or not, nine times out of ten Shoupe was positive that any misconduct on the island could be traced back to JJ and his friends. “Look, usually in cases like this I would tell you that, your kid is 18, if you haven’t heard from her in 24 hours then I’ll file a missing persons. But I know that Maybank kid...I’ll talk to his friends, see if anyone knows anything. You hear from your daughter, you let me know.”

“Thank you, deputy.” Your father said, his arms around your mom as she continued to cry. You were gone and he wasn’t sure if he was angrier that you had walked out on your family’s expectations of you or that you were embarrassing them in front of a potential future husband. Either way, the thought that something they did contributed to your disappearance never occured to them.

Charleston wasn’t half-way between North Carolina and Florida. There wasn’t anything special about the place and even Pope had asked why JJ didn’t just take the Phantom down to Georgia for a stopover. JJ’s only explanation was that he knew a guy in Charleston and, technically, he did. When Luke had served an 18-month sentence for a petty misdemeanor his cellmate had been an in-the-process-of-reforming drug addict who took himself down to South Carolina to work in a program for recovering addicts. He kept in touch with JJ, making sure that Luke was treating the boy right and JJ always lied through his teeth that everything was great.

“Nothing to worry about.”

But he’d called a few weeks before with an odd favor. One that Luke’s cellmate readily agreed to, no questions asked, but a strange request all the same. “Meet me at the courthouse in Charleston.”

Now you stood outside, scuffing the toe of your converse against the pavement, JJ’s cellphone held in a vice grip against your ear. Independence didn’t exist in your family, at least not for you. You belonged to your father until you belonged to a husband and there was no other way around it. JJ was sitting on the hood of his friend’s car, talking about heading down to Flordia, watching you as you stood a few feet away, fiddling with the strings that tied the dress he’d bought you in Chapel Hill. You’d dug it out of a drawer in your mom’s room and wore it now, a small symbol of freedom.

“Hello?” Your mother’s voice came through the phone, a little grainy.

“Mom?”

Suddenly she was shouting for your father and you could practically hear her switching the phone over to speaker so he could hear you too. His footsteps were heavy in the background and when you were sure he was in earshot you spoke again, not ready to hear whatever bible verse he had earmarked for this very specific occasion.

“I just wanted you to know I’m okay, JJ and I are heading down south. We’ll be staying with a cousin of his until we can get our own place.” You told them, “but we’re safe. Kiara told me you called the police; you can tell them you made a mistake...I left on my own.”

JJ stood up, walking over to where you stood, nodding to you as if silently asking you to put the phone on speaker. You held it away from your ear and tapped the button on the screen, your father’s reprimanding voice pouring through the phone.

“Stop, stop,” your mother insisted, cutting into the conversation with the only thing you knew she cared about. “What am I supposed to tell Timothy’s parents?”

“Tell ‘em she’s already married.” JJ answered for you, winking at you when you smiled. Charleston wasn’t anything special, expect they let you get married the same day you applied for a license and you knew it was the only thing your parents would listen to. When you had told JJ he’d been more than onboard with the idea. Surprisingly okay, eager even.

“What?” Your father practically shouted through the phone. He had sat up the night, waiting for the call you promised them only for it to come through early in the afternoon the next day with this, news that you had married this kid.

“Ace-” your mom seemed like there was something more she wanted to say, something that she couldn’t say with your father hovering beside her.

“I’ll be in touch, love you.” You said, ending the call and realizing, as JJ pulled you into a hug, that you were crying. “I really hate them sometimes but I don’t...want them to hate me.”

“Trust me,” JJ reassured, “I know all about it.”

Your shoes sat abandoned on the small front lawn, socks stuffed inside as you stood a few feet away, ankles deep in a plastic kiddie pool that was slowly filling with hose water. You still had your uniform on, a short sleeved, short-hemmed, yellow waitress dress that buttoned up the front. Balanced on your hip, your arms around her, was JJ’s cousin’s daughter, his niece for the sake of simplifying things. She wore a white bathing suit with rainbow flowers all over it, a frilly skirt around the waist. Her Elmo submarine bobbed in the water as it got higher.

“Look, Daisy,” you cooed, drawing her attention to you and then pointing to the object of your interest. An older model Ford truck pulled into the driveway, JJ behind the wheel. “Whose that?”

“JJ!” Daisy clapped her hands with each syllable, thrilled at the sight of him.

The car door slammed behind him, standing there with his coverall’s tied at his waist, white wife-beater dirty from work. His cousin had gotten him the job at the autobody shop that he’d been promised and JJ was enjoying it more than he thought he would. The smile on his face when he saw you was infectious.

“Where’s Brett?” He asked, looking around the small yard of the trailer. It was nothing terribly special, a double-wide trailer that JJ’s cousin Brett had bought after his girlfriend got pregnant. Now he lent out the room that Daisy had been sleeping in to you and JJ, asking only that you pay for groceries every other week and babysit whenever need be.

“Went to meet April for lunch.” You replied, “you’re early.”

“Don’t act so excited.” He teased, getting close enough that you could kiss him, Daisy reaching out for him and calling his name again. “As soon as I change Dais,” he promised, kissing the baby’s head.

“Kiara called, asked if we’ll be up for Pope’s birthday?” You mentioned, setting Daisy down in the kiddie pool and getting out to shut off the hose. “I said yes.”

“Yeah, definitely.” He nodded, pausing at the steps as if he wasn’t quite sure what he had intended to do next, finally turning to look back at you as you kneeled down on the outside of the pool in hopes of keeping your uniform clean. “You okay with going back for a weekend?”

“Now that I’ve fallen into like, total debauchery, definitely.” You joked, “my parents probably won’t even recognize me if I don’t, you know, get stuck down by lightening just walking onto the property.”

JJ snorted, “slow your roll there Cheech, you still can’t smoke and you definitely can’t handle your liquor.”

“Go get changed so I can...Brett basically handed me Daisy, threw a shirt on and left. I didn’t even get to change.” You mentioned, pointing to the dress, “I know it’s some weird turn-on for you but I’d like to put a bathing suit on.”

“Hey, I’m happy to oblige,” he called, the screen door clambering behind him as he disappeared into the trailer.

You had tried to imagine a few times, what you would’ve been doing right now if you had stayed in the Outer Banks, if JJ had never asked you out to begin with. Probably packing for Tennessee, signing off on a life-sentence with someone who thought your greatest contribution to his life would be in how many children you could give him and how well you kept his house. Certainly not living in a trailer in a small town, saving dollars in a jar, with a future ahead of you that was as much yours to decide as JJ’s.

“Alright, get your ass in there and change.” JJ said, coming out of the trailer. He’d left the white tank on but changed into an old pair of swim shorts, climbing into the kiddie pool as if it was intended solely for him.

You stood up, brushing grass off your knees and leaning over to kiss JJ one more time, “be right back. Don’t have fun without me.”

“Oh we’re gonna have all the fun!” He called as the door shut behind you.

As you passed the mirror on the door you stopped to look at your reflection. You looked the same as you had when you left for Florida four months ago but there was something there, something so different that you couldn’t recognize yourself sometimes. A good different though, the kind that settled over you like a warm sun in the summer, the kind that blossomed up in your chest and let you know that all these decisions that led to right now had been the right ones.

Taglist: @outrbanks @mendesmaybank @thehomeiknow @minnie-bby @katiaw2 @2kayla64 @stevie-buck @bijleegiregi @vitaminekabc @minigranger @teamnick @just-smile-darling @obxsummer @damonsalvawhore27 @isqbella @tomzfrog @fangirlvoice @phantompogues @98starkeys @ilovejjmaybank @lemur46 @khiaraaa-in-spacee @babygal-babygal @niya-savage @divvrx @princess-of-the-fandoms @thecaptainsgingersnap @jenjie @yourprincess-maybe @wowmaybankk @goldeng1rl8 @heavenlymama @vindictive-hearts @alexa-playafricabytoto @dontjinx-it @randomficsandshit @niamhobrien @strangerthanfanfiction713 @tovvaa @freckled-and-daydreaming @harleylynn @bibliophilewednesday @dpaccione @bolaurel @poguestyleskye @beautyandthebleh @under-a-canyon-moon @outerbankspreferences

150 notes · View notes

venhedish · 3 years

Text

Ven’s Masterlist of SPN Fic

I write mostly pre-series and early seasons Big Feels™ Wincest fic. There’s a lot of angst and pining here, but plenty of love and devotion mixed in with the darkness.

I always deeply, deeply appreciate likes, kudos, comments, and reblogs!

Wincest Fic

Stand-Alone

Yesterday is a Ghost I Believe In ~4.1k, Teen, Pre-series, Epistolary, Multimedia, Experimental There's an old shoebox under Sam Winchester's bed. It's been there almost as long as he can remember. He doesn't look inside it very often, but when he does, he takes his time. A multimedia collection of letters, journal entries, pictures, and other ephemera from a life on the road. .

That Monster, Love ~2k, Teen, Pre-series, POV Outsider, POV John Winchester, John Finds Out, Angst “You think you’re doing your boys any favors, raisin’ ‘em like this?” .

To Cure My Lonesome Blood ~8.8k, Explicit, Pre-series, Pining Dean, Angst, Bittersweet Ending Dean’s been sick since before either of them was born. The disease is incurable, written into his blood – the same blood he shares with his brother. If he’s not careful, the fever will spread like a fire and consume them both. .

Like Sand, Like Water, Like Sunlight ~1.7k, Gen, Pre-series, Mutual Pining, Angst, Pre-Slash Sea birds circle overhead and Dean wishes he had a camera. Sam looks so young, all of twelve years old, and exhilarated. Dean wants to hold this image in the chambers of his heart, but his pulse just carries it along; time is cruel that way. .

The Space Between Sense and Memory ~4.8k, Teen, Pre-series through Season 1, 5-and-1 Things There are a hundred unwritten rules on all the acceptable ways brothers should touch each other. There are hardly any ways at all to break them. Or; five times they follow the rules and one time they don’t. .

Every Goodbye, all at Once ~900, Teen, Pre-series, Stanford Era, Pining Dean, Angst, Epistolary "Hey, It's Sam. If you're looking for my dad, you can reach him at 866-555-9352. If you're looking for me, leave a message." A series of voicemails Dean leaves at the number Sam left behind. .

Breathe You In (Choke You Down) ~6k, Explicit, Season 01, PWP, Scent Kink, Guilty Dean Winchester Once Sam was gone, Dean missed him in a way that was all-consuming, all the way down – so deep in his bones that he shook with loneliness some nights. And it was the familiar scent of his brother’s hair where it tangled warm against the pillows, his pulse beating under his skin and sending the fear of the hunt wafting off of him in waves that Dean struggled to hold onto the hardest. Dean really likes the way Sam smells.. .

Dawn is Coming (Open Your Eyes) ~5k, Explicit, Season 01, Hurt/Comfort, Getting Back Together In which Sam and Dean suffer new wounds and stitch old ones back together. There’s an awful storm, a dead monster, an injury, and a whole lot of feelings. .

You put the Magic in Me ~9.1k, Explicit, Season 02(ish), Sex Pollen, Porn with Plot, Casefic “This is the weirdest thing we’ve ever done for a case,” Dean says under his breath, leaning into Sam and scouting the crowd gathered around a dozen tables inside the little café. “Dude, relax,” Sam says back, eyebrows raising at his brother’s nervous energy. “I thought this would be, like, your thing.” He gestures vaguely to the women milling around inside. A long, vividly red banner hangs across the open french doors that lead into the space, emblazoned with the words The Oolong Tea Room Presents: Lonely Hearts Club Speed Dating! Feb 11-14th! Or; in which Sam and Dean learn a thing or two about chemistry. .

The Stars are not Wanted Now ~2k, Teen, Season 02, Episode Tag: s02e21 All Hell Breaks Loose, Angst, Death Rituals There was a body on the bed. It had been there long enough that the slanting light of morning crept into the room like an unwelcome invader and washed the world in a dream-shade of palest blue. But there were no dreams here; only death, only memory. The body on the bed was all that remained of Samuel Winchester, who had died in his brother’s arms the night before. .

Demi-Gods and Hungry Ghosts ~5.8k, Explicit, Season 03, Episode Tag: s03e11 Mystery Spot, Dark, Dub-con, Hurt No Comfort This dream-state of living on pause and rewind leads to some interesting avenues of thought that Sam doesn’t mean to travel, but after a certain number of unrelenting Tuesdays, they just become inevitable. If Dean dies every day—if his memories are wiped, or if they never happen at all—what could Sam get away with, if he wanted to? Could he dare to find out? .

In Sanguine Vita Est ~5.2k, Explicit, Season 04, Knifeplay, Dean’s Hell Trauma, Hurt/Comfort Everything was different now. Dean was here—back from the fucking dead—but he was a stranger in his own body. Scars gone, aches from broken bones that hadn’t set right vanished back into the void as if they’d never existed at all. He’d become a stranger to the whole world. He’d become a stranger to Sam. _ Dean asks Sam to help him heal after he returns from Hell. .

All Heartless Spectres, Happiness ~5.7k, Explicit, Season 06, Episode Tag: s06e06 You Can’t Handle the Truth, POV Outsider, Angst, Soulless Sam Lisa Braeden receives an email with the subject line, "You Deserve to Know." It contains a single video file and nothing else. .

The Rungs of Me be Under You ~1.6k, Teen, Gencest, Post-Bunker, 2nd Person POV, Queerplatonic Sam and Dean, Non-Sexual Kink What they share has never been easy to define. Why should this be any different? .

Wincest Series The Top/Bottom Discourse Series (Ongoing) [Each story is canon compliant and listed chronologically, but they can all be read as standalone works.] This series was born originally from a silly meta post I made on Tumblr as a response to some very angry top/bottom discourse I was seeing about how only Sam could truly be A Top™, or how only Dean could truly be A Top™. I personally like to kink and let kink and not drag outdated gender politics into my fandom (Dean can't be a bottom because he's too masculine? Ice cold take, bro), so I wrote a filthy little tongue-in-cheek post about all the ways I think Sam and Dean have fucked each other over the years.

I’m Thinking About Whatever You’re Thinking About ~5.1k, Explicit, Pre-series, PWP, Bratty Sam, Exhibitionism, Fear of Discovery Sam is such a brat, sometimes. .

Shoot to Thrill ~6.7k, Explicit, Season 02, Porn with Plot, Hustling, Getting Back Together It's just like riding a bike. .

Burn Out The Night ~4.9k, Explicit, Season 08, Porn with Plot, Car Sex, Light BDSM, Fluff What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. .

Destiel Fic

Love Made a Martyr of Me ~500, Teen, Season 05, Endverse, Past Sam/Dean, Angst Sam says yes in Detroit, and in the space of a single syllable, there's nothing left in Heaven or on Earth for Dean to love. Cas doesn't seem to care. .

The Sharp Teeth of the One You Love ~2k, Teen, Season 05, Endverse, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Pining “Quit bein’ a baby, Cas.” Dean’s hands were covered in blood, but they were steady as always while he worked to stitch Castiel back together. “I’m sorry,” Cas growled between gritted teeth. “I don’t exactly have a lot of experience feeling pain.” He hissed again when Dean slid the curved needle back through the eight-inch-long gash that ran deep and bloody down Cas’s bicep. Castiel learns something about what it means to be human. .

Wincestiel Fic

Temerate ~700, Teen, Season 05(ish), Past Sam/Dean, 2nd Person POV, First Time Your brother is sitting in the corner of the motel room. His big hands are worrying at each other; he squeezes them together, fingertips white from the pressure of his grip. He meets your eyes and his gaze is like a lightning strike. .

Dean/John Fic

Cruore ~1.1k, Mature, Pre-series, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Blood, Intrusive Thoughts Bites, Dean could deal with – claw marks and broken bones. But this- ... a bullet was a different kind of monster altogether. .

Supernatural RPF

Il Cielo in Una Stanza ~4.4k, Explicit, Jensen Ackles/Jared Padalecki, Getting Back Together, Prequel-Gate, Polyamory, Non-AU Jared Padalecki receives a present he wasn't expecting at all for his 39th birthday. .

Other Supernatural Fic

Bad Things, Better Reasons ~2k, Explicit, Pre-series, Dean Does Sex Work, Angst, Brotherly Love. Dean does whatever it takes to keep the bills paid while John is gone. The kid waiting for him back at the motel room is all the justification he’ll ever need. .

No Was Her Name ~1.3k, Teen, Season 12, Dean/Mary, Light Angst, First Kiss Mary Winchester was alive. She was solid—made of skin and blood and bone—and she existed in the same world as Dean. It wasn’t a dream; she walked and talked and breathed. She ate, she slept, she wandered the halls of the bunker at odd hours. She was a ghost made flesh, and Dean was haunted by her presence. .

#ven creates #wincest #wincestiel #destiel #J2 #daddycest #spn fic #fic masterlist #my fic #long post #sorry #i just wanna be able to link to it in my bio

43 notes · View notes

marshunter06 · 3 years

Text

Fuck Off, Excuse Me Part 6

A/N: I can’t sleep so I thought I would try to write, dudes my bad for not continuing this sooner… I lack inspo and motivation plus I have no fucking clue where this is going

Anyways, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5 are all linked here if anyone has forgotten what the hell is going on in this verse cause I sure as heck don’t remember.

It’s Saturday night and Courtney’s a nervous wreck, for once it’s not over exams. It’s about a boy, her soulmate to be exact, and they’re going on their first date together. She tries to calm herself as Cate helps her get ready for whatever it is Duncan has planned. She’s a bit annoyed that he wouldn’t tell her anything about wherever it is they’re going, the fact that Cate is keeping quiet despite her whining isn’t helping either. She swears everyone is turning against her to take Duncan’s side, where’s their loyalty? She needs to consider finding new people to hang out with, maybe she should take a page out of his book and bond with Phia since her friends are all traitors.

“All done! You look super cute Sissy! Have fun, and stay out as late as you want!”

“There’s no way Mom and Dad would be okay with that.”

“They’re not even home this weekend, who cares. Just enjoy yourself!”

“I’m not making any promises.”

“There’s the doorbell, he’s here! Come on Court!”

Cate eagerly drags her sister down the stairs, opening the door to see a casually dressed Duncan. Good thing she didn’t dress up for their outing either, but that was largely due to Cate’s meddling. He greets her normally asking if she’s ready to go, she simply nods as she follows him outside to his bike. She admits enjoying the ride as she keeps her arms wrapped tightly around his waist. Being around him always brings a warm feeling in her heart, the soulmate effect is too powerful, so much so that she wonders why there are those who do not end up with their destined lovers. Lost in her thoughts, she doesn’t notice they’ve arrived until she sees the huge crowd of people around them.

“Duncan? Are we…”

“Cate said you like music, and my old band happened to be playing here tonight, we’ll have special treatment.”

“Bold of you to assume we have the same music taste.”

“I guess we’ll see, won’t we?”

He takes her hand pulling her inside the venue where they’re ushered into the VIP area much to the dismay of the crowd waiting outside. Their first stop is at the bar with Duncan ordering their drinks. She declines since they’re not of age yet, but he tells her she needs to loosen up. She still refuses to partake in underage drinking, until he calls her a chicken and bets she can’t handle herself. Naturally this prompts her to try and prove him wrong, she downs the beer in one go leaving him stunned.

“So, the Princess has a dark side.”

“My soulmate is a delinquent, I can’t be that innocent.”

“You continue to surprise me, Courtney.”

Her heart pounds hearing her actual name on his lips, his eyes softening as he gives a genuine smile. Maybe she shouldn’t have drank all that alcohol so quickly, she can feel her face heat up. He points it out immediately, telling her how cute he thinks she is, this only makes her blush even more. She turns away in embarrassment, not used to seeing this side of him.

“We’re going to miss the show if we keep standing here… don't you want to see your former band mates?”

“We have plenty of time, they’re always late, but we can go to our section if you want.”

She allows him to pull her away behind the restricted access sign. They’re up on the balcony overlooking the stage as people begin to file in for the concert. She finds that she’s actually excited about attending a live music session again, she hasn’t been since her own band broke up.

“Wait, you were in a band too?”

“Only for a few months, our personalities clashed too much.”

“I mean, with a name like the Type A’s I'm surprised you didn’t kill each other.”

“There were a few close calls… oh hey, I think they’re starting.”

It’s an odd feeling to be at a concert where she doesn’t recognize any of the songs, but she tries to not let it bother her too much. Subconsciously tapping to the beat, she listens to the lyrics and discovers they’re not bad at all. She isn’t a fan of every song, but there are a few that she would probably consider adding to her playlist. She makes a mental note to ask Trent if he’s heard of this band.

“So… what did you think?”

“They’re actually not terrible, dare I say I kinda like them?”

“I knew it! Admit it, Court, we have more in common than you thought.”

“I guess I can tolerate your existence a little more now.”

“I’ll take whatever I can get. You wanna meet the guys?”

“I wouldn’t mind, I’m sure you’re dying to catch up with them.”

She expects to feel out of place amongst his friends, but that wasn’t the case at all. They all immediately accepted her without question, making her feel welcome just as Phia did during their first meeting. She has to hold back her emotions, she’s not used to people being so kind to her without ulterior motives. There’s a reason why she only has two friends beside her sister.

He brings her back before midnight without her having to remind him of her self imposed curfew. He tells her he doesn’t want to push her past her limits, he’s already proud that she let her guard down around him and enjoyed herself. She doesn’t realize the weight on her shoulder she’s been carrying over the past month has been lifted until he points out how relaxed she looks. If he can bring out this side of her from just a handful of meetings, maybe it’s not such a bad idea to fall for him. There has to be a reason fate decided to bring them together right?

“Thanks for tonight, Duncan. I had a lot of fun, it’s been a while.”

“It’s nice to see you smile more, you look prettier when you do. Good night Courtney. I’ll see you Monday at school.”

“Good night Duncan.”

He leans in to hug her, the smell of his scent lingers in the air even after she closes the door. She has a huge smile on her face as she walks up the stairs, careful not to wake Cate up. It isn’t until she’s laying in her bed that she realizes he didn’t try to kiss her, and truth be told, she’s a bit disappointed he didn’t.

#duncney #FOEM!#didn’t think I would actually write a chapter so there’s that #I’ve been in a slump lately fandom wise

29 notes · View notes

certifiedceraunophile · 3 years

Note

How about kc + modern hades/persephone au for the edits?

Hey!!!I'm sorry your edit took a while but I just loved this prompt soooo much, it inspired me and put me to work with all the excitement I was missing for a long time. Thank you so much for the prompt <333 I had so much fun doing this I hope you like it too!

Here are some headcanons for the AU:

Klaus as hades is mythologically the deity under whose regime, gemstones and precious metal mined from the earth fall, soooo Klaus rocks a ton of jewelry in this au: He wears rings and bracelets and obviously his iconic necklaces, But my fixation here is his sexy artist hands + RINGS!!!! Like omg please He'd look so badass and hot I can't even.

Caroline in this au has tattoos!! of her favourite blooms and flowers. Like oof she's gonna look so freaking pretty with all that beautiful splash of colour and nature all over her skin like asdfghjkl *dreamy bisexual sigh*

Klaus rides a bike in this AU because so far unfortunately I have not come across a single Biker!Klaus au which is a goddamn shame if you ask me, so I just thought what if I just give me what me wants.

Klaus gives Caroline the prettiest jewelry allll the time and some times he stores a drop of water from the rivers that flow in his realm in them so that it echoes both the wails and screams of the dead and the eternal spring breeze of Elysium to remind Caroline of home when they're above the surface.

And the Plot Bunny I came up with:

Klaus in this AU does not kidnap Caroline or anything, their meet cute here is um... quite different:

Klaus approaches Caroline with a job offer; He requires a pair of eyes and ears loyal to him amongst the Olympians, he requires a mole, if you will; he believes there is deceit rampant in the courts of Olympus, subterfuge that would attempt to overthrow him from his rightful place as King of the Underworld, so he enlists the Goddess of spring: Caroline to be his little double agent in their conspiracy. He chooses Caroline for plenty of pragmatic reasons: She was an overlooked and constantly underestimated minor goddess with a single-minded nearly unstoppable diligence for every task she uptakes. He once saw, rather felt, the shadowed little goddess quietly nursing this blooming thirst for power in her chest just as potent as her yearning for freedom with the same delicacy and purpose with which she tended to her flowers, and all he could see was how exquisitely Olympus would fall at his feet if he wielded her right; practically a perfect fit for the job if you ask him.

Her being the goddess of light, of spring, of everything that he is denied in his cold sunless Kingdom of eternal winters, only added to why she was the key to his machinations coming to life: no one would suspect even the slightest possibility of a connection between them.

But as they worked together, between all the clandestine meetings standing on opposite sides of the veil guarding the underworld, and the inconspicuous notes clasped in the talons of his ravens flying back and forth, her spring time breeze that she lends to his faultless little Elysium carrying her voice with an echo so sweet, tortured souls turn their heads in hope, he is reminded that even hell has a heart beating away, pumping and pulling it's fire and sulphur through his Kingdom; he is reminded that this heart is caged within his chest, a ferocious little thing thumping away harder than he has ever heard it before only to tell him: The heart wants Caroline just as the realm wants it's Queen.

Anyway I imagine a lot of espionage-y shenanigans with a dash of begrudging allies to Lovers set in a modern au, with Klaus falling head first in love very fast very hard and barreling towards the lovers part of 'allies to lovers' and Caroline just being hella skeptical in the beginning but my man Klaus proves himself over and over again so she makes her way there in her own sweet time because a Queen can never be rushed, she arrives when she does.

#prompt #kc plot bunny #hades x persephone #definedareasofuncertainty #klaroline fanfiction

16 notes · View notes

its-monster-mash · 3 years

Text

Paul(The Lost Boys) X Michael’s Ex!Fem!Reader Imagine(Part 1)

Content Warnings: Vaguely Love-Triangley? (Reader and Michael are still good friends and broke up a while before Mike moved, but things are a little awkward because they were each other’s first serious relationship; so he’s more protective than he needs to be, and there might be a few hurt feelings, but I wouldn’t quite call it a love triangle), Brief Sexual Harassment

Part 2

This turned out SUPER long so I’m putting it under a readmore; also I think I’m going to make it a series because I want to go a lot further with this but I suspect I’m going to run out of space soon

• Michael Emerson had been your best friend since you were kids, growing up in Phoenix only a ten minute walk from eachother...if you knew the right shortcuts. You knew all of them, thought you knew everything when you were younger, and you got yourself and Mike into a fair amount of trouble because of it...but he had always been a good kid, and was able to temper your more destructive elements.

• It surprised exactly no one when the two of you eventually started dating, nor did it surprise them when you broke up a few years later. You had always been inseparable, and the love had always been there, but over time you just couldn’t help but feel stifled. You had spent your entire teen years with him, and so many people liked to joke that Mike tamed you...at the rate you were going it seemed like sundresses, picket fences, and a couple of kids weren’t far off in your future...and that scared you.

• Mike was heartbroken when you left him, and for the first few weeks he absolutely held it against you, but due to your shared friends and history your friendship survived. Unfortunately, his parents’ divorce separated your iconic duo once again.

• When Mike’s dad showed up on your doorstep a few days after the move, you tore him a new one for basically abandoning his sons. He set a box on your porch, Mike’s Tools...his Grandpa gave them to him when he was just a little kid and they were one of his most treasured possessions...they were forgotten in the chaos of the move...His dad thought you might visit him sometime...

• That’s what led to you hopping in your shitass El Camino and making the drive to Santa Carla. Lucy had given you their new address before they left...you knew she hoped that maybe you and Mike would get back together some day, but that just wasn’t in the cards. At the end of the day he was just too good, too normal, for you.

• Driving through Santa Carla, you can’t help but be drawn to the sheer...strangeness of it all. Looking at the people, you feel like you actually fit in here. You definitely plan on hanging around the town for a while.

• Mike isn’t home when you get to his Grandpa’s house, but his mom could not be happier to see you. It’s a bittersweet reunion for you; she had been more of a mother to you growing up than your own parents, but after breaking her son’s heart you just don’t feel like it‘s right for you to call her “Mom” like you used to. She has a million questions, and she even suggests you stay with them for a while...you politely decline.

• You didn’t tell her that sleeping in your beat-up old car was preferable to her hospitality, but it would just be too weird, with how recent your breakup was. You and Mike are still friends, but you think sleeping under the same roof might be weird for him

• You still want to see him though, so you decide to explore the town on foot for a while; maybe run into him. You’re wandering around when you hear a familiar voice coming from the open door of a comic book store.

• As soon as you walk in you see the unmistakably garish patterns of Sammy Emerson’s signature style and break into a wide smile. “Long time no see, huh kid?” Almost the second he sees you he practically knocks you over with a hug, backing away in embarrassment after a second of thought. You and Mike were already best friends by the time he was born, so Sam was almost as much your little brother as he is Mike’s.

• “Now What was that about Vampires?” You had overheard Sam and the Frog brothers when you walked into the store...Sam rolls his eyes, and the Frogs assail you with some insane story about how the town is overrun with vampires. Some imaginations these kids have.

• You bail out of there pretty quick in favor of wandering the boardwalk, seeing what Santa Carla had to offer...before you know it, the sun is starting to set

• Maybe going out alone in “The Murder Capital of The World” wasn’t your smartest decision, but you weren’t exactly known for your self preservation; that had always been Mike’s job...but he isn’t here now.

• You grimace as you notice a group of surfers take notice of you. You had wandered a bit aways from the main crowd, so you aren’t sure anyone would notice if things went south... “Hey Sweetie.”

• “Get Bent.” You sneer as they close in on you. “Awe well that’s not very polite,” the leader says, giving your ass a firm squeeze. “You should try being a little nicer.”

• You humor him with the sweetest smile you can muster as you stomp as hard as you can on his foot. He calls you a bitch and you flinch as his fist flies toward you.

• You open your eyes when the hit never comes, and are shocked to see that someone had caught the guy’s fist. You look up at him and your cheeks flush; when was the last time you saw a guy this handsome? “This guy bothering you, babe?” He asks as he squeezes the guy’s fist so tight you hear something pop. The guy falls to his knees and gasps in pain as his friends back away nervously. You smile wickedly. “Not anymore.”

• You watch the douchbags storm away with their wounded pride, shouting empty threats, only distracted when your Knight in Shining Tight-Pants tucks your hair affectionately behind your ear. “So what’s a pretty thing like you doing alone in a town like this?”

• You bite your lip, eyeing him appreciatively; now that you could get a good look at him you can tell he is definitely your type...and you hadn’t been with anyone since you broke things off with Michael. “Hoping to run into an old friend, but I haven’t seen him.”

• He grins, clearly appreciating your look. “That’s too bad, wanna make some new friends?” His eyes are fixed on you with a certain hunger, there’s a palpable danger to him; it excites you.

• You shift your stance flirtatiously, leaning into him ever so slightly. “That depends, are they all as cute as you?” He pokes his tongue into his cheek with an amused grin. “Almost.”

• He takes your mischievous smirk as agreement, and throws an arm around you, leading you back to where his friends are gathered by their bikes. “This the chick you ditched us for?” The curly-headed blond asks, humor in his tone.

• “Well I for one am grateful for the timely rescue.” You grin. “How grateful?” The blond on the bike asks, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively; making you laugh. Your hero slaps at him playfully, and the favor is returned.

• Seemingly the leader of the group, the spiky-headed blond interrupts the roughhousing. “Paul, Marko, knock it off and let’s go.”

• Paul nods, climbing onto his bike and grinning at you seductively. “You wanna go for a ride, babe?”

• His smile is infectious, and his innuendo isn’t lost on you. Maybe it’s not your safest decision, but you climb on the back of his bike; earning a loud “HELL YES.” From him, and hooting and hollering from Marko.

• “Make sure you hold on tight babe, I’m about to take you on a ride you’ll never forget.” “Shut up and drive,” you tease as you wrap your arms tightly around his midsection.

• They all laugh deviously as they rev their motors to life, and you’re glad you’re holding on tight, nearly falling off when they take off from 0 to 100. “HOLY SHIT!” “What’s the matter sweetheart, can’t handle a little speed?”

• “That all you got?!” You ask, acting tough. It was a mistake though. “That all you got, Paul?” Marko asks, mocking you. “I dunno girl, I think that’s all he’s got.” The big brunette says, first time he’s spoken since you met the boys. “Fuck off, Dwayne!” Paul shouts. The leader gives his engine a rev, egging Paul on. You scream, forced to cling tightly to his back as his bike tears into the night. Marko pulls up next to you, mimicking you with a falsetto squeal.

• “Damn babe, already screaming for me,” Paul teases over the roar of his motor. You’d sass him back if you weren’t too busy burying your face in his back for dear life. You’d ridden on the back of Mike’s bike plenty of times before, but he was never this reckless. You’re as terrified as you are thrilled.

• By the time you start to get used to the speed, the boys are slowing down, and much to your surprise, they pull right up to Michael, who is standing with a girl you haven’t met. His eyes snap to you instantly and go wide with confusion, he hadn’t even been aware you’d come to town. “(Y/N)?”

• “This that friend you were looking for?” Paul asks. “Yeah, (Y/N), care to introduce us to Star’s new friend?” “David please.” You watch the exchange a bit uncomfortably, shifting on the bike, arms still around Paul. “Yeah...Hey Mike, I uh, your old man dropped your tools off at my place so I took them up to your mom.” Your chest feels impossibly tight. You aren’t jealous to see him with a new girl, but you had hoped that maybe he’d be a little happier to see you here...and him, the earring and that jacket...it doesn’t feel like Mike at all. Paul can feel you shrink against him.

• “Hope I’m not stepping on any toes here,” Paul says, giving your thigh an unsubtle squeeze; deliberately antagonizing Michael. You smile a bit awkwardly as Mike scratches the back of his head in discomfort. Star looks between the two of you, avoiding eye contact with David. “No, Mike and I used to date but...” “But it’s over,” Mike says, a bit too shortly, trying to cover the awkwardness with an unconvincing smile.

• David shoots him a not-all together-friendly look. “Well, you seem to be moving on well enough,” he says, gesturing to Star, who shrinks beside him. “So’s (Y/N),” Paul interjects, looking over his shoulder to smile at you. You smile back at him, despite the awkwardness.

• “We should go, Star,” David urges. Star hesitates, but climbs on the back of his bike. Michael looks mortified, and you can’t help but feel awful for him. You’re shocked when David nods his head toward Mike’s bike. “Come with us, Michael.”

• You know the look on Mike’s face; his first instinct is to back out, avoid trouble...but then he looks at you, and he looks at Star; like he’s worried what will happen to you if he doesn’t come along. “Mike,” You don’t have to come, you start to say, feeling Paul tense in your arms. “I’m coming.”

• “This is gonna be so sick,” Marko says with a practically manic grin, before Dwayne swats him upside the head. “Don’t be an ass.”

• “Don’t forget, (Y/N), hold on tight,” Paul says, side eyeing Michael a little less than subtly. Mike rolls his eyes and you shrug apologetically. This is awkward, for sure, but one way or another you want to see this through. Paul and the boys seem cool as hell, and at the very least seem like a good way to get back on the horse after getting over a long relationship.

• You squeeze Paul a little tighter, heart pounding against his back. He revs his engine. “You ready, babe?”

#Spotify #mypost #the lost boys #music tag #paul lost boys #I DID NOT EXPECT TO MAKE THIS SO LONG #I thought this would be a lot more condensed but I’m liking it a lot so I’m drawing stuff out more than originally intended #probably will do at least one more part #I LOVE Paul #and I want to have an emotional scene between Reader and Michael where Reader worries that his ‘new look’ is because she dumped him for-#-being too good of a guy #he’ll kind of joke with her like ‘No don’t worry my first love leaving me for not being a bad boy right before my parent’s divorce didn’t-#-fuck me up at all’#and then he’ll clarify that no; the breakup made him realize that he DID want to make his life more exciting and reinvent/explore himself-#-since he had to start life over in a new town #Mike is SLIGHTLY an ass in this chapter but I do want to Emphasize that he and reader were VERY close friends before they ever thought-#-about dating and are still friends now #It’s just a bit complicated now that they HAVE dated #Mike probably thought they were going to get married some day #so cut him some slack this is hard for him lol #the lost boys imagines

74 notes · View notes

rachetmath · 3 years

Text

JRY vs Ace-ops

Warning: Long read. This is theory on who would survive a fight. A analyses. In my opinion. So with clear, if you agree, then like or comment. Disagree, fine, go wild.

Hello, so you must have read the title. Okay you might be thinking, "Ratchetmath, bro, you can't be serious. There is no way Jaune and Ren can ever defeat the Ace-ops. Only Yang, considering her and her teammates did in volume 7." Which I would completely side with you on. However, I've come to realize that the Hound was never a threat, and more importantly the boys could've done more if the Worf effect wasn't in place. So, let's give these guys a fighting chance and see what they along with Yang, could've done if they had to fight Winter and Ace-ops.

First, let's discuss the Hound and why the Worf effect failed. For those of you who don't know what the Worf effect is, it is when a new character is placed in the story and to prove their strength: you make them fight already deemed strong characters and let them win or stand a chance of winning the fight. The reason the Worf effect failed for the Hound is because Oscar is not a very strong character. Oscar skill level as the show presents is random at best. The Hound should have aimed for Jaune. Jaune as the show and writers made clear, has an incredible amount of aura. Seeing the Hound break his aura completely without even trying would've been more terrifying and makes sense. Or Yang, showing that it could fight.

But why? Why the Hound taking Jaune or Yang down first makes sense? Yeah, Yang is fine but Jaune is not strong or a capable fighter. Maybe not much of a fighter, but he is strong. In fact, he holds back grimm twice his size on a regular basis like an Urosa and Nuckelavee. Even Yang and the other characters, well except Elm because of her physical appearance, are guilty of this. The Hound is no different, it's basically a harder version of the Beowulf. Let's face it, Jaune couldn't do anything because the show must go as planned. Jaune could've save Oscar by getting close and blowing it away with his gravity dusted shield. The hound attacking Jaune first would prove it was watching them carefully, seeing their weapons and abilities to find who could be a threat to its mission. Proving its power and intelligence.

Now, the main event, team JRY versus The Ace-ops. The fight starts when the Ace-ops arrive after Jaune told them about the grimm river. Sadly, when they arrive, things were not so good. The Ace-Ops were more focused on finding Penny instead of the river. Now the grimm river destroyed the Atlas barrier and Atlas was under attack. However, the Ace-ops still want to arrest the group. Instead of going down peacefully, Jaune, Yang and Ren won't go down without a fight. Can they win?

Now, let's scan the environment. They were in an open plain field full of snow. There is nowhere to hide and almost no way to escape for team JRY. The motorcycle is not fast enough to outrun Harriet or a plane. But more importantly there was a crater beside them where the grimm river used to be. Now there are two ways this can go down, but I'll explain later. Let’s focus on the characters.

Let’s talk about the Ace-ops. They are elite hunters in Atlas. And from what we got from volume 8, Harriet told us that Marrow and Winter are replacements for their fallen comrades. Meaning Vine, Elm and Harriet herself are the remaining, long term members of the Ace-ops. So, they work very well together unlike with Marrow and Winter. That could give team JRY an advantage, but not much. Do to the fact that it's five against three and with only one of them being the strongest fighter, they need a plan to set the odds to their favor.

Now for team JRY. Beacon students turned hunters thanks to James. Now they’re with adults. However, there are a few problems with this team. There are three people in the team and two of them, barely fight or have barely won a fight at all. Jaune is more on the defensive while Ren... well, he spams his attacks, and relies heavily on long range. Sadly, the Ace-ops over power them with combative semblances and fire power. Their best shot would be to run. However, there still a way to win. This is a fight or flight situation, so what would happen if team JRY choose either option?

For flight, the reason being because they're not capable, it's a waste time and more importantly lives are in danger. First, remember they were on a field of snow. What does Jaune have? A shield that shoots gravity waves on contact weather it's from enemies or to the ground. Jaune was already in front of the bike and with good timing, he could activate and slam his shield to ground, sending snow flying, causing a smoke screen. Giving them little but plenty of time to hop on the one motorcycle and ride, while making sure Winter or Marrow have no time to stop them with either of their semblances. The crater also plays a key role for their escape. They can ride in it, but Harriet, due to her semblance granting her speed, will be on their tail. However, if orderly seated, Jaune can stop Harriet from getting too close. But what about the other members? Well, they'll be back on the ship, but they can't do anything. If they fire missiles, they'll get in Harriet's way and more importantly hurt her in the process. Jaune could also block her path himself with shield bomb.

Now, for fight. Reason being is Oscar is in danger and needs saving. More importantly the plane is better for traveling around Mantle and saving people than a motorcycle. This will be a difficult battle but not one sided. This is going to involve the team trusting each other. And putting their skills to the test.

First off, they would need to get rid of Marrow. Marrow may be the rookie of the Ace-ops, but he is the most powerful. His semblance can stop time just by looking at his opponent or pointing at them, commanding them to "Stay" in place.

To take out Marrow, they need to knock him out before he uses his semblance. So, before the fight truly starts, Yang should be close to Jaune, grabbing his clothes and amplifying her aura. When she has enough, Jaune, since team JRY will get a plane, launches the bike and Ren shoots the gas tank. The explosion should cause a temporary smoke screen. Yang should immediately get on Jaune shield for him to launch her towards the Ace-ops and activate her semblance to knock Marrow out. Wait a minute, but Yang's semblance doesn't work like that, she needs to take damage to even use it. However though, Blake revealed that Yang and Adam's semblances are one of the same. Meaning, both can activate their semblances any time without the need to be attacked. Yang has done this once back at Beacon and in Atlas considering Elm couldn't even touch her. But this would wear her out. Too bad she was amplified by Jaune, so she may not experience the same negative draw backs when using her semblance recklessly before.

Wait, but what about Aura? Can't aura protect Marrow from harm? Well, sadly no. Aura, as the show so far made clear, is limited to what it could do for its users. If you have a broken arm, get poisoned and/or critically wounded, your aura my not save you. So, a heavy blow to the head is something your aura is useless in healing, especially when you need to be conscious.

Now, it's four against three. So, what should happen next? Jaune pushes Harriet into the crater, allowing Ren to fight her. Harriet may be fast but with the crater being narrow and deep she'll have a hard time moving around and probably climbing out. This will allow Ren to adapt to her movements and fight in her in hand-to-hand combat. Hopefully, he's still good at that and not relying on his upgrade.

Jaune may have to take on two opponents. They are being Vine and Elm. Don't get me wrong, it took Blake and Yang to beat them, but Vine and Elm aren't really that good. In fact, they are just stronger versions of Ren and Nora, except Vine's semblance is better suited for combat. But let’s be clear, Jaune survived a journey of pain without his aura being broken but a few times. Never mind, only once, do to being tired after fighting a giant mech.

Now, hear me out. Elm is strong, and her weapon is an RPG. But her semblance is useless if the ground is cracked, which Jaune can do without wasting aura, or entering a burst mode. Elm also has not demonstrated any hand-to-hand combat skills. Even if she was willing to still use her weapon without her semblance, it only further proves she will suffer from the recoil from her weapon once fired. Plus, Jaune can block or deflect the missiles back at her using the gravity waves from his shield. Also, though Elm is stronger than Jaune, he's faster, has more movability and a sword. So as the saying goes, "Bigger doesn't always mean better."

But hey, what about Vine? He beat Jaune before. But who can't beat Jaune? More importantly, didn't Vine need the high ground to fight anyone. In the snow plain field, Vine has no high ground but the ship, Jaune already fought him once so he might know how far his arms can stretch, and more importantly, Jaune is physically stronger than Vine. He might use his weapon but again, the shield can deflect it. And if Jaune grabs his stretchable arm, he basically can throw Vine around.

I will make this quick for Yang. Yang will take on Winter. She would be able to reason with her considering she's friends with her sister. But Yang might have some ways to fight Winter considering she should knows how Weiss fights and been working with Weiss for a while. However, we still must consider that Winter can make an army of grimm, but she has not used any other tactics.

But these are still highly trained hunters. They aren't so easily to be defeated especially against Jaune and Ren. Well, Jaune can assist Ren by knocking out Harriet. How? Ren could use his grappling gun to capture and slow down Harriet. Ren gives Jaune a signal, Jaune goes to him, Ren releases Harriet who was running too fast for her own good with no time to react. Finally, Jaune use his shield to knock her out. They climb out and both can fight Vine and Elm. Same for Ren if to assist Jaune first. Harriet may be fast but won't be able to climb out the crater. Once all four members are down Winter would be the only one left. And sadly, the Schnees despite their abilities, still manage to lose battles.

Well, that’s all folks. Remember this is in my opinion. If there are ways for team JRY to win or if there are flaws to my plan, then please leave a comment. However, despite what I said, team JRY would still lose. Mostly due to what I said about the Worf effect not being used properly. And the villains have way more plot armor then the heroes.

#rwby #Jaune Arc #lie ren #yang xiao long #rwby ace ops #Oscar Pine #rwby elm ederne #vine zeki #rwby marrow #marrow amin #harriet bree #winter schnee #clover ebi #rwby vine #rwby harriet #The Hound

35 notes · View notes

japannkenn · 3 years

Text

(Luca) Summer Heat (rated M) (unpublished/random pieces that I wrote)

Luca doesn’t like children, which is weird, because he technically is one? (He hadn’t been eighteen for that long, and things still felt the same) He does feel bad about it. He’d dealt with them over his years of study in Genova which was always a hassle, but it wasn’t his fault.

He didn’t know why he was intimidated by a couple of adolescents, just on the brink of consciousness of the world around them. Not old enough to worry about things bigger than how fast they can eat their gelato before it melted in the summertime heat.

He guesses he’s one to talk. Even if it’s been three years, he doesn’t feel like he knows anything. He may not be much better than these kids. He doesn’t know who he is. He thought he did. He thought he was starting to figure it out.

That’s why it’s so shocking to see how second nature Alberto is around a band of rowdy twelve year olds in the water, teaching them how to swim. And maybe they weren’t rowdy—just much too much for Luca to handle. He can’t believe how patient he is, how he humors their antics and how easy it is for him.

And he can’t believe how good he looks in that tiny red Bagnino tank top, iridescent purple scales shimmering in the sunlight, practically calling him.

Luca knew this was going to happen, so he brought a book to look down at if Alberto happened to turn back and steal a glance, lest he be caught staring. Because that would be the end of the world considering some of the things they’d done already.

There was a squiggly, fine line to their relationship.

And besides, he wasn’t good with kids. But it was fun to watch anyway. It doesn’t mean he didn’t feel bad.

“Va bene,” Luca hears him laugh from the water, a young girl looking up at him with a red tinge to her cheeks that definitely wasn’t from the setting sun. “If you can hold your breath for ten seconds, I’ll buy you another gelato.”

“Really? And I can pick the flavor?” Her eyes sparkle.

Alberto pauses comically. “No, no. I still get to pick the flavor,” his voice is giggly, and Luca’s heart wants to burst with affection and love.

“Hey! Non è giusto, you have to buy me one too!” A little boy pops up from under the water, eyebrows furrowed up at Alberto.

“Twenty seconds, then?”

“See that one right there?” He points to the same ragazza that he promised a gelato after he’d come back on the shore for a short break, sitting down beside Luca in the sand.

“Uh-huh,” he watches her as she makes a show of back stroking, glancing curiously at Alberto.

“She’s got a massive crush on me.”

Luca scoffs, rolling his eyes. “Ah, I bet that gets your ego nice and excited doesn’t it?”

“Oh yeah,” he jokes, unwrapping an energy bar from his bag. He takes a bite, a quiet moment passes by and Luca awkwardly looks back down at his book. “Nah. I’m just wondering what I did to make her see me that way.” He says idly.

Luca chews his lip anxiously, incredulous. He starts to wonder if this was a trap. What was Alberto trying to do to him?

Whatever it was, it was working.

The Vespa was surprisingly still in commission, ready for a summer of rides down The Downhill, through the narrow roads, twists and turns to the piazza.

But Luca preferred Giulia’s bike whenever he could if she wasn’t using it. But he’d never admit it out loud that the reason he likes pedaling instead is because he thinks it’ll help him become more like Alberto. Physically, anyways. He was quite jealous, really, in this delicious, sensual way.

Actually, he thinks he’d tell Alberto the reason, if only he would ask. He wishes he would ask. He probably never would, because it was almost like he already knew.

“Don’t you wanna ride your fancy Vespa instead? Why do you need my bike?” Giulia even asks one day, putting Luca on the spot as he’s hopping on for a twenty minute cycle around the piazza.

“Let him use it. He needs the exercise,” Alberto says coolly from the porch, Machiavelli slung helplessly over his shoulder as he’s bringing him back inside from a bath.

Luca’s heart drops, his face burning red.

It’s almost annoying how bold Alberto is about it. No, it definitely is annoying. And Luca is tired of being constantly envious of his ever growing muscles. “Everyone’s bodies are different, you know?”

Luca glares at him. He’s trying to wash the dishes and not even Alberto was a fun distraction anymore. Just plain annoying. Stupid, dumb Alberto. “Haha,” he sulks.

“What works for me may not work for you,” he shrugs, scratching at his chin and appraising Luca’s body for a moment. What’s worse is that Luca can feel it, each little thought in his mind. What’s even worse is that in a matter of days, he’d become so self conscious about something he hadn’t ever thought about for more than five minutes.

Sure, he’d done his fair share of comparing himself to people, and especially Alberto. But he’d always had a summer fixation, whether that was a good or bad thing depended. It was always Alberto. And it wasn’t always good.

“If you’re really that worried about it, I can help you.”

Luca pauses, squeezing the sudsy dish sponge in his scaly hand. His first thought is to be defensive about it, and he is, but it’s a much lighter approach when he says with a little chuckle for good measure, “I’m not that worried about it.”

“But you are,” Alberto outsmarts him in that easy breezy way, winning another point for the Fluster Luca game. “Just a little. Right?”

When he turns to glare at his asshole of a friend again, he’s got that grin on his face, like he’d proven something, caught Luca in another lie the same way he could when they were fourteen, knowing and unbothered. It’s annoying.

Grumbling, he forces his attention back to vigorously scrubbing some dried alfredo off of a dinner plate. “I could give you training lessons. Just me and you.”

To keep from short circuiting, Luca laughs again, awkwardly.

Training started at eight in the morning the next day, on the beach. Alberto says they need open space to promote a healthy work environment, but Luca just feels put on the spot. He relied on the fact that Portorosso was a sleepy town, and it was unlikely that anyone would be awake this early. Besides the pescheria. Which is probably eighty percent of this town’s population.

Carp.

“Like this?” He asks breathlessly, trying to keep in tune with a swift jog in place, his entire body burning for all of the wrong reasons, not that he feels his ten-pack forming, but he can tell Alberto is watching him. Hard.

Alberto hums, scratching his chin. “No.”

***

Ferragosto this year is when he platonically-maybe-not-so-romantically falls in love with Alberto and Giulia all over again. They’ve got her old radio blasting the anthem of summer’64, il gatto e la volpe, and Luca can’t explain how excited he is to hear it again.

Fireworks burst over the astounding view from The Downhill. They’re finally old enough (well, excluding Giulia, but two legal adults were enough) to be out on their own under the influence of at least two glasses of wine.

It wasn’t that much, but Luca can’t help how giggly he feels, throwing his head back to sing, “Noi scopriamo talenti e non sbagliamo mai,” at the top of his lungs, delighted when Giulia takes the next verse.

“Noi sapremo sfruttare le tue qualità!” Her voice is shaky and cracks unexpectedly, but to Luca, it’s like music to his ears. Another firework rockets to the sky, bursting loudly.

“Dacci solo quattro monete e ti iscriviamo al concorso,” Alberto sings next, stumbling over the words and his voice is incredibly off key, but Luca beams at him, suddenly wanting to cry.

“Per la celebrità!” They all sing together, bursting into a fit of uncontrollable giggles.

He never wants this to end. He wishes this bottle of wine were bottomless, so that the three of them could lay here in the grass forever underneath the inky black sky, lit up by colorful explosions, wiggling his toes freely in the wet grass, his two favorite people in the entire world right by his side, just like every summer.

But it’s going to end. It always did. That was the reality of it, and he always faced it. But just for a little longer, he could enjoy it knowing there was always next year. For now, he could be irresponsible and enjoy this. A little longer.

He reaches over, turning the radio up to the highest volume, cheering loudly over it.

Lui è il gatto ed io la volpe, stiamo in società

Di noi ti puoi fidar,

di noi ti puoi fidare,

di noi ti puoi fidar

There’s plenty of places to makeout in Portorosso, but somehow they’d ended up behind the house because—oh, now he remembered—it’s almost time for dinner, and they wanted to be back before sundown.

Admittedly, Luca was disappointed that nothing intense had happened on their little day trip to Isola del Mare, and to him it was a waste. He never did well with mixed feelings, and he couldn’t help not being talkative on the walk back to the Marcovaldo household.

If Alberto asked, he’d just say he was tired. Which wasn’t exactly a lie, just not the whole truth— because, merda, the swim there and back really isn’t a cakewalk or anything. He felt near exhaustion, leaning slightly against Alberto as they stumbled down the narrow road, street lamps lighting the dusk night.

He doesn’t know what kind of person he’s becoming, but it most definitely isn’t practical.

He stumbles to trail along when Alberto unexpectedly yanks him behind the dark alley-like space between their house and a neighbor’s and Luca groans confusedly because he’s already a little frustrated with Alberto, even if it’s childish and petty.

“What are you—,” A flame ignites like an explosion in his chest when Alberto roughly slams him against the concrete wall by the shoulders, sucking in a deep breath when he feels his chest pressing firmly against his. “Why—,”

All Alberto does is laugh, and Luca would punch the stupid grin off of his face if he could see it in this light. “What’s that you said earlier? Sono felice? If that’s true then why haven’t you said anything since?”

Luca grumbles. “I’m just tired.”

“Uh-huh, right,” he says knowingly, releasing his tight grip on Luca’s shoulders to drop one arm by his side, the other hand planted firmly on the wall by his head instead. It makes Luca feel worse (better? He doesn’t know), the choice to leave or stay looming over him like a playful tease. “You’re upset I didn’t put my hand down your pants earlier, aren’t you?”

“Don’t make fun of me.” Luca’s face heats up and he makes a weird noise of repulsion. “It’s stupid of me, I know,”

“I’ll tell you what…”

Sometimes or more often than not this summer, he doesn’t recognize himself as a top student in Genova, or a loyal son who herded goatfish for most of his life. It’s weird feeling different and thinking about himself like this. And Alberto, his dear friend who showed him this new world above the surface, is now his lover, a little more than just a friend, all and everything in between, and he’s different.

It’s strange.

This was certainly… unexpected.

When they finally come inside right in time for dinner, they’re skittish, and Giulia gives them a look that’s definitely more knowing than confused, but she’s uninformed nonetheless, and Luca can’t help but giggle. He feels like a brat.

He accidentally bumps into Massimo, rustling away from Alberto’s tight grip on his arm. He mumbles a quick mi scusi, sitting down in his seat. “Lo giuro, ragazzi,” Giulia grumbles exasperatedly, setting down cups of water around the table.

Luca steals a glance at Alberto as he picks up his cup for a sip, darting his eyes away quickly when they make eye contact.

“Ragazzi.” Signor Marcovaldo says sternly, and Luca and Alberto flinch. “Help set the table.”

“Certo, certo, sorry about that, papà,” Alberto rushes to the counter, leaning over to take two plates at a time. He sets them on the table, getting the last two. Right as Luca decides he should get up and help too, Alberto is on his way back to the table and they narrowly miss stumbling into each other, Luca letting out a strained little chuckle as they stare stupidly at each other.

Giulia clears her throat loudly, arms crossed.

Luca and Alberto immediately look at her, breaking out into awkward laughs.

“What is it with you two? Veramente,” she takes a seat beside Alberto after he finishes setting down the plates. Luca is next to stand beside Massimo at the counter, grabbing silverware. He can feel his heavy gaze burning holes through his head as he quickly rinses them in the sink, and if he just hurried then—!

“Luca.” Massimo grumbles. Luca flinches again, willing himself to look up at the man towering above him.

“Si?”

“Calmati.”

Luca shivers, drying the forks quickly in a towel. “Oh, sì, scusa,” he rushes back to the table, giving everyone their silverware before shakily taking his seat again. He catches Alberto staring at him again, and he slightly raises his eyebrows like asking stai bene, and Luca nods quickly.

“For dessert, it’s tiramisu,” Signor Marcovaldo says as he sits down, and Alberto’s eyes light up and he gasps excitedly. “For that, you have Giulietta to thank.”

Alberto frowns. Giulia grins smugly at him, and Luca lets out his first real laugh of tonight. “Ah, come on. Can tonight get any worse?” Alberto groans half heartedly, absentmindedly twirling some pasta onto his fork.

“Sure it can. I helped strain the noodles,” Giulia jokes, her mouth full.

“Oh, is that why you’re feeling so tipo tosto tonight?”

“Of course. It’s more than you ever help out around here.”

#archive of our own #luca 2021 #pixar luca #fanfiction #fanfic #japanken #aged up characters #alberto scorfano #luca paguro #giulia marcovaldo #Luca

18 notes · View notes

quickspinner · 3 years

Text

I’ve Got You

Hi @ladycat1! Your original secret santa had some life happen, so here’s a gift from me to tide you over until they can post your fic! I chose the soulmate prompt and I uh, got a little carried away. I hope you enjoy it!

This was supposed to be a sprint fic, 3 15 minute sprints and 45 minutes to edit, but it took me 4 sprints to finish even the main idea and then there wasn’t enough Luka so I went back and added more, and now it’s kind of a beast compared to what it was supposed to be. So, I failed the challenge, but hey, more fic, so still a win!

She’d dreamed for so long about what her soulmate would be like. Some of her friends had silly words scribed over their hearts, things that made no sense and probably wouldn’t until they met their person. Some of them had commonplace phrases like “Hey, watch it!” or “Hi, how can I help you today?” Some of them were borderline insulting. Alix’s words were “Hey, out of my way!” Marinette wasn’t sure she would have been able to feel good about something like that, but Alix didn’t seem bothered by it. “At least our meeting won’t be boring,” she pointed out.

Still. Marinette liked her own words better, far better, than any others that had been shared with her. Easy, easy, I’ve got you.

They sounded...comforting. Supportive. Warm. She couldn’t think, even with all her natural paranoia, of any way those words could be bad. Maybe she was making too much of it, maybe it was only a little thing. Still, she liked the thought that the first time she met her soulmate, they would be helping her, even if only in a small way.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. She was supposed to be breathless, but not from hitting the pavement at blinding speed. She was supposed to be disoriented, but not because she had been tossed across half the city by an akuma. She wasn’t supposed to be cold and wet and frightened, and most of all, she wasn’t supposed to be Ladybug.

But she was, and he’d grabbed her, and when she struck out at him in fear and confusion, he’d caught her hand, and his lips moved, and her chest burned, and the words hidden beneath her suit suddenly felt etched on her skin in fire.

The arms that cradled her were strong, the hand that wiped the mud off her face was gentle, and the blue eyes staring down at her were as concerned as she could ever have wished for, but—it was all wrong.

“Are you hurt?” he asked, his hand moving to her chin and tilting her face so that he could look into her eyes.

She was supposed to answer him. Whatever she said to him in this moment was supposed to be etched over his heart, and she would say it, and he would feel that same—not fire, because it didn’t hurt, not exactly, but that flaring that would tell him that this was no random chance, that she was his soulmate.

But she couldn’t. She stared dumbly up at him, her throat seizing up in panic even as she clamped her lips tight. It couldn’t happen like this. It couldn’t be like this. She couldn’t say his words, whatever they were, while she was Ladybug. It would ruin everything. It would make things impossible between them. If anyone found out he was Ladybug’s soulmate , then—he’d be in so much danger. They couldn’t see each other, they couldn’t be together, they couldn’t become whatever they were meant to be because...because she was Ladybug, and Ladybug couldn’t afford that kind of weakness.

“Ladybug?” He frowned, and his hand moved again, brushing her hair back.

She shook her head violently and pushed at his shoulders. He let go of her, and she scrambled back, getting to her feet shakily. Her eyes darted around, taking in details—the bike discarded on the ground behind him, the color—colors, of his hair, the studs in his ears, his clothes, she had to remember all of this—

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked worriedly.

Ladybug nodded furiously, and staggered a few more steps away, whipping out her yoyo. The words on her chest burned hotter as she swung away, and then subsided into a tingling kind of numbness. Ladybug blinked back tears and shook her head. She had an akuma to defeat, and then she could worry about what she’d done.

She barely stayed long enough for their usual fistbump once the battle was over. She found the first secluded place she could think of, transformed, and ran.

Marinette knew it was useless even as she pelted down the wet streets, her light flats getting soaked as she sloshed through puddle after puddle. It would take a miracle for him to still be there by the time she could get there, but wasn’t meeting your soulmate a miracle in itself? It could happen! She had luck on her side, right?

Tikki hadn’t said anything about Marinette’s mad flight, just huddled down in Marinette’s purse with her cookie. Marinette mentally apologized for bouncing her around so badly, especially after such a tough fight, but...she had to try.

But when she skidded to a stop on the corner, there was no one there. The sun was going down and the streetlight shone only on wet, empty pavement. Her soulmate was gone, and so was his bike...and she’d have to find him all over again.

If she could. Her throat tightened, making it even harder to catch her breath, as it occurred to her that she had no idea what happened when soulmates met and didn’t complete the bond. Would it be as if she had rejected him? Would the cosmic pull that was destined to someday bring them together just...cease? When she met him again, would the words she said still resonate with him, or would it all be ruined because she had held back? Were the words on his heart the ones that she should have said, but didn’t?

Marinette didn’t know. She’d never heard of anything like this happening before. Sometimes people rejected their soulmates, or chose to live apart from them, but...but the exchange still happened. The bond was still there. They were still complete.

And Marinette...was not. The hole her soulmate was meant to fill was still there, and she felt all the more conscious of it now.

Remember , she told herself as she walked home in the dark and the cold. Remember his face. Remember his eyes, and his hands, so large against her face. Remember his clothes, his hair. Remember.

She had to remember. Because she was going to find him again.

And then...then she’d just have to see what happened from there. She’d have to make a plan. Marinette was good at plans. Marinette was good at doing the impossible. She was going to find her soulmate again, and she was going to fix this, and the universe was just going to have to suck it up.

One hand drifted up to grip her upper arm, over where his hand had rested as he’d lifted her from the street. She smiled to herself, just a little bit. She’d been right, after all. He was helping her. Supporting her. Even though she was a stranger to him. Even though she was Ladybug, and she was supposed to do things on her own, and even though it was dangerous for him to get involved while she was in the middle of an akuma fight. If Chat hadn’t been able to keep the akuma busy...

He was brave, she realized. Brave, and kind, and strong, and gentle.

Marinette had to stop herself before she got too far down that train of thought. It wouldn’t do to build him into something superhuman. That wouldn’t be fair. She wanted to know the real him, and not be blinded by a dream of who she thought he might be. She’d learned that lesson once before, after all.

Once she was dry and warm and Tikki properly ensconced in a cozy nest of blankets, Marinette sat down at her table and began to draw. She couldn’t afford to forget anything. She was going to find him again, whether the universe decided to help her out or not.

***

Luka Couffaine didn’t have a soulmate.

At least, that’s what the rumors said. There was no soulmark over his heart, and that seemed to be the only conclusion people could come to.

Luka had never been bothered by it, in all truth. He himself was well aware that there were many ways to communicate that didn’t involve words, though it never seemed to occur to anyone else. Privately he thought it entirely likely that his soulmate was a fellow musician, and that their first exchange might involve something far more expressive than mere words. Or maybe not; maybe it would be in the touch of their hands, or the meeting of their eyes. Maybe they would just know, and stand looking at each other in wonder. Maybe his soulmate had a physical issue that would prevent them from speaking. From time to time he watched video tutorials to learn signs that might be useful if it were so.

Mostly, though, he just went on with life, and didn’t worry about it too hard. He was young, and there was plenty of living to be done even without a soulmate. The rumors irritated him far more than the idea that he might have been born a whole soul in a single body.

He’d lived for seventeen years that way, and neither expected nor especially wished for a change, until he picked up an extra shift on a delivery route he didn’t usually ride, and the city’s beloved superhero crashed through a planter and faceplanted on the street in front of him.

Luka wasn’t even thinking when he shoved off his helmet and ran to her, dropping his bike on the sidewalk. After a slide like that, she should have been shredded, but when he helped her roll over and sit up, her skin was whole, though smeared with muddy water. She flailed at him blindly and he almost dropped her, startled by her strength when her hand hit his chest.

“Easy, easy,” Luka told her, catching that hand, “I’ve got you.” She stilled—froze, almost, and her expression was still dazed. No wonder, after a hit like that. Luka wiped away a smear of mud under her eye, but she didn’t move, just pressed her lips tight and stared at him. She was so pale.

“Are you hurt?” Luka put his fingers under her chin and tilted her face up so that he could see her eyes. They were even and seemed to be dilating normally. Where was Chat, he wondered with a sudden, irrational irritation. Sounds of battle in the distance answered him. At least Chat was keeping the thing busy, then, while Ladybug...recovered?

She was still just staring up at him, and he frowned, brushing her hair back to check for a bump or a bruise. “Ladybug?”

She shook her head and pushed at his shoulders, and he let her go, watching as she stumbled to her feet, his hands still hovering uncertainly in the air as he watched her. He...didn’t want her to go, and that didn’t make any sense because of course she had to go. It’s not right, he realized suddenly. t’s not right that she has to do all of this—why should it be her? She can barely stand and she’s about to run back into the fight.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked, fighting the urge to take hold of her again.

She nodded, and before he could say anything else she was swinging back to the battle. He actually ran a few steps after her before his brain caught up with his body. What was he doing?

Luka turned and went slowly back to his bike. His chest felt funny where she’d hit him before he caught her hands. She didn’t say a word, he thought, turning and looking back towards where she’d gone.

His sigh of relief was more fervent than usual when the magical ladybugs swept through the city, and over Luka. She would be okay now, he was sure. Luka was most of the way home, having walked his bike as he found himself lost in a swirl of thoughts that didn’t want to condense into any kind of sense. Luka looked down on himself in amusement, his hand smoothing over the place on his chest that had been smeared with mud from her hand. His shirt was clean, now. He glanced up. “You didn’t have to bother,” he murmured. “But...thanks.”

It wasn’t until he was getting ready for bed that night that he saw it. It was just a chance glance as he was walking out of the bathroom, halfway through pulling on a fresh shirt. He saw something in the mirror and turned to look at it instinctively. His jaw dropped, and he leaned towards the mirror, wiping away the fog with his hand to get a clearer look.

There were words on his chest, right over his heart, in the distinctive silver-grey of a soulmate marking.

***

Determination, Marinette thought tiredly, could really only get you so far. She’d done her best but, she just had so little to go on. She knew what he looked like, but it wasn’t like she could mentally beam his image into the internet and find his address.

Well. Maybe she could have if she asked Max and Markov for help, but...how would she explain that? How could she explain that she’d met her soulmate, she’d known it was him, but somehow she’d managed not to find out who he was. How ridiculous did that sound? No, she couldn’t tell anybody or ask anybody for help. She tried to console herself with reminders of how unlikely it was that any of her friends knew him anyway...but it really didn’t make the problem any less frustrating.

She found herself circling back to that same cross street where she’d met him. It was the only lead Marinette had, but there wasn’t much there. It was a residential street, so maybe he lived here, but she couldn’t exactly go knocking on doors telling people that she was looking for her soulmate. If he did live here, surely she’d see him, right?

Feeling a bit like a stalker, she parked herself on a bench the following Saturday with her sketchbook in her lap, watching the people that passed her on the street and any figures visible in the windows of the houses. All she got was a sunburn and some odd looks from a couple of people who passed her both in the morning and the evening as they went out to walk their dogs. She went home and lay on her bed moaning in frustration and embarrassment as Tikki sympathetically applied aloe to her face with little pats.

“It’ll be okay, Marinette,” the little god told her, but Tikki had already admitted that her powers were entirely separate from the mystery of soulbonds, and she couldn’t really help Marinette beyond lending a little ordinary luck.

Nobody knew better than Marinette that the surest way to sabotage luck was to count on it, though, so she carried on as she otherwise would. Marinette pulled out her sketch, and stared at the face again. Okay, so maybe he didn’t live at that intersection. Maybe he lived further down, or something like that, and this place was on his route home.

It took a little ingenuity and closer to an outright lie than she was really comfortable with, but Marinette managed to get out of school early and go back to the intersection. He couldn’t be that much older than she was; possibly he passed this place on his way home from school or a part time job.

That didn’t work out any better than the last attempt, and Marinette was sure at least one person had recognized her from her last visit. If she wasn’t careful, she was going to be having a very awkward conversation with Officer Roger, she was sure. At least she remembered to wear sunscreen this time.

Still determined, Marinette drew up an elaborate schedule, gridding out the most likely dates and times to catch him coming through. She plotted bike routes along the area from several local schools and the types of businesses that hired student-age part-timers. She changed up her style and her dress so that she wasn’t so recognizable.

Nearly a month later, she still had nothing. Her friends had long ago begun questioning her bizarre behavior, and more than one had been dragged along on Marinette’s expeditions with increasingly weak excuses, and now her parents were starting to ask questions. Marinette wasn’t sure how much longer she could keep this up, and...she wasn’t sure how much good it would do anyway. She’d covered almost every possibility—certainly every likely possibility, and most of the less likely options, too. Marinette didn’t want to admit it, but she was running out of ideas.

***

Luka kept his new mark hidden from everyone, even his family. He wasn’t sure what had happened to put it there, and he had no idea how to explain it. He kept thinking that it had to have something to do with that encounter with Ladybug, but…

Luka knew very little about whatever mystical force was behind the soul bonds, but he knew even less about Ladybug and her powers. And if it was her, did it happen when she touched him? Her hand had been splayed across his chest right there. He remembered it feeling weird, but he thought that had been because she hit him. She was strong, after all and might have—probably had?—magic that enhanced her fighting somehow, so it wasn’t surprising that a hit to the chest from her might sting a little bit. Though it hadn’t hurt, exactly, but then he hadn’t really been paying attention.

Or was it the magic of the ladybugs? Was there something wrong with him after all, that they had repaired when they cleaned his shirt? Or did it have nothing to do with her powers at all, and it really was just coincidence? He hadn’t been looking at himself all day. He was pretty sure it hadn’t been there at gym class—surely one of his nosy classmates would have noticed, since they frequently snuck glances at his unmarked chest the same way they would if he had a third nipple or some other anatomical anomaly, but it could easily have appeared any time after that. Luka couldn’t imagine what could have triggered such a thing, though.

Unless he had maybe...not met his soulmate, surely that would be unmistakable from everything he’d heard, but...gotten near her somehow? Passed her or touched her or looked at her without knowing. Luka was usually an observant guy, but when he got in his head, he didn’t always register exactly what was going on around him. Maybe he had had an encounter like that, that he didn’t notice or remember, and the universe was frustrated with him and decided to give him a hand.

That didn’t really make sense either, though.

Luka knew he couldn’t keep this a secret forever, no matter how much he wanted to, but he was going to do his best. Some discretion and a little tattoo coverup should do it. It just...felt private, those words, and he found he was self-conscious about it in a way that he hadn’t been about his unmarked chest. Luka wondered how people could go around letting something like that show all the time.

More than that, he wondered what he should do about it.

Although, he considered, as he stared into his bathroom mirror again...looking at his words, maybe he wouldn’t need to do anything.

***

Marinette stood there on that same corner, again, fighting back tears of frustration, staring at the spot where his bike had fallen when he met her. Was it even his bike? She’d thought it had been, but maybe it wasn’t. Her memories of that night were worn with frequent handling and she was starting to question everything she thought she’d seen that night. Marinette knew it had happened—the words on her chest that had once been grey and dull were a vibrant blue, so she couldn’t have imagined the whole thing...but she was starting to feel doubtful on the details.

This isn’t fair, she thought furiously at the universe. This wasn’t supposed to happen this way. Maybe I messed up, but I had good reasons! You’d think I’d earned a second chance, with all I’ve been through! Marinette blinked back frustrated tears and turned abruptly away, knuckles white on the straps of her pink backpack, eyes squeezed shut against the tears, so that she didn’t see the bike parked on the street in front of the steps of the townhome she was about to pass.

***

Luka hated this route and avoided it whenever he could, but today he didn’t have a choice if he wanted to work. It was hilly and the cobblestones were uneven, taking most of the pleasure out of the ride itself, and to top it off, the people who usually ordered from here were rude. The irritation on top of his confusion about his soulmate...situation, which had lasted for a month now with no signs of resolution, made him impatient to be done and shorter than usual with the customers, though he managed not to be completely rude.

He was clattering his way down the steps when he collided with something—shit, with someone. Luka grabbed at her as she pitched sideways from the force of the impact, trying to at least keep the petite woman from hitting the pavement due to his stupidity.

Marinette was caught completely off guard. A wordless screech escaped her and she pushed away on reflex as hands grabbed at her, but she was off balance and her feet were tangled and she was going to fall—

“Easy, easy, I’ve got you,” said a voice that sounded like an echo out of her memory, except it was real and loud in her ear and so startling that she stopped struggling. The stranger who had, apparently, both collided with her and stopped her fall had an arm looped around her waist, and he gently pulled her upright. She found her feet as she looked up at him and his hands moved to her upper arms in a familiar grip. Marinette’s heart was pounding in her ears.

He was wearing a bright yellow bike helmet, but she could see the dark, blue-tipped hair sticking out from under it, and the expression of concern, the gentleness in the blue eyes, were all exactly the same. “I’m so sorry, I was thinking about something else and I didn’t see you. Are you all right?”

Marinette looked up at him, still speechless. He frowned. “You’re crying,” he said, his voice full of compassion. “Is everything all right? Do you need help?”

Marinette shook her head slightly, her mouth moving silently. Say something! she screamed inside her mind, but she didn’t know what to say. She didn’t know the right answer, and this wasn’t a test she could afford to fail. Some distant part of her mind noted that she hadn’t gotten the details wrong at all. His sharp chin, the line of his jaw, the—

Say something!

“I’ve been looking for you,” she blurted, and then covered her mouth with her hand. Whatever she was supposed to say, surely it wasn’t—

But his eyes had gone wide, and his hand left her arm to clutch his shirt over his heart, and he was breathing faster. Marinette couldn’t help the smile that burst across her face. “I found you,” she said softly.

It was...such a strange feeling, some detached part of Luka’s brain observed. Like he’d lived his whole life in that brief moment of expectant silence right before the curtain rose and the music burst forth, only he’d never known it until now. He felt dizzy with the sudden rush, the burning on his chest barely registering.

He kind of wanted to smack himself for ever thinking he’d been whole before.

Without thinking, he pulled her close and held her tight against him. “I wasn’t even sure you existed,” Luka mumbled wonderingly into her hair. Slowly, Marinette put her shaking arms around him. Once she had, she couldn’t make herself let go; her hands fisted tight on the back of his shirt and she pressed her face close. “I didn’t have any words,” he whispered, so low he would have been inaudible. “Until...something happened, a few weeks ago. I didn’t have any words, and then one day I did, and...you know what I mean, don’t you? What happened to me? You have to know. It was you, wasn’t it?”

Marinette froze. “I—” She couldn’t go on, mind whirling with all the reasons she shouldn’t tell him, shouldn’t admit it, and with all the reasons she should, until she was paralyzed.

Luka realized he was being an idiot. He had no right to that knowledge. Soulmate or not, they had just met, she didn’t know anything about him, and he’d just put her on the spot for what must have been a closely held secret. How many times had he seen her on the news, pleading with the public not to put her family and friends in danger by trying to discover her identity.

“Never mind,” he said quickly. “It’s not important. I have words now, and you said them, and…what’s your name? I don’t even know your name.” He laughed a little shakily. “This whole thing is so crazy.”

“Marinette,” she gasped, pulling away enough to look at him. “My name is Marinette.”

“Marinette,” he said, and smiled. It sounded like music when he said it, somehow. “Nice to meet you, Marinette. I’m Luka. I’m…” What was the right thing to say in this situation? “I’m really looking forward to knowing you.”

Marinette was blinking back tears again. “Me too. But can we just...can we stay like this a little bit longer?”

“Yeah,” Luka said, pulling her back in. “Yeah. But…” He grinned, nuzzling his face into her hair. “Only a minute,” he chuckled, “and then I really need to get your number, because I’m working right now and I’ll be late to my next delivery.”

“Delivery,” Marinette repeated giddily. “You make deliveries.” There was a hysterical edge to her laughter.

“I was doing my last delivery of the night when—the night the words showed up,” Luka told her. “This is the first time I’ve been back on this route since...I can’t believe I met you here.”

Marinette dissolved into definitely hysterical laughter, that had Luka holding her tightly, murmuring words of concern she didn’t quite catch. When she had herself under control again, she pushed him back lightly, and rose up on her toes to kiss his cheek. That simple little touch brought heat to his cheeks. “Give me your phone,” she told him as she came back down, her own smile growing at the grin he was clearly fighting to contain. “I’m not losing you again.”

They traded phones quickly, and entered their information, both grinning like idiots. She was really cute, Luka thought, stealing glances at her as he typed. He caught her sneaking a look at him too and they both grinned sheepishly at each other, giggling as they went back to what they were supposed to be doing. Their eyes met again as they passed their phones back and impulsively, Luka caught Marinette’s hand and squeezed it tightly. “I have to go,” he said with a sigh, though he was still smiling—couldn’t seem to stop, in fact. “I’ll text you tonight?”

Marinette nodded. “Be careful,” she told him, and immediately felt stupid, because of course he’d been doing this for far longer than she’d known him and he presumably knew what he was doing. “I mean...well, I know you know what you’re doing, but still. Be safe. I just found you.”

Luka smiled as he stepped past her, letting her hand slide reluctantly out of his. “Don’t worry, I’ll get home in one piece,” he promised. He kicked up the stand of the bike before slinging his leg over it. “I’ve got you now, and I’m not letting you go.” He gave her a wink, and then pushed off, though he nearly made his promise a lie as he looked back at her and almost collided with a streetlight. It was almost worth the embarrassment to hear Marinette’s giggle floating after him, though. He grinned to himself, putting one hand over his heart.

I’ve been looking for you.

He was so glad she hadn’t given up on him.

Marinette covered another giggle with her hand, and started on her own way home, giddy with relief and tense with anticipation. She put her hand over her heart, over the words there that felt like they were faintly pulsing, though she wasn’t sure if that was true or if it was just the way her heart was pounding. She looked down at her purse to see Tikki peeking up at her, clapping her little flipper paws excitedly.

Maybe Marinette couldn’t tell him just yet, but...maybe the universe knew what it was doing after all. Maybe it was good that they ml this way. She didn’t have to tell him, and they could pretend he didn’t know, but…

I’ve got you.

It felt good to know that someone did.

#quickspins #lbsc sprint fic challenge #lbsc secret santa #lukanette #endgame lukanette #lukanette endgame #luka couffaine #marinette dupain-cheng #miraculous ladybug #miraculousladybug #ml fics #promptfic #quicksprints

115 notes · View notes