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wordsbymae · 2 years ago

Text

MINORS DNI

Title: The Viking

Pairing: Male OC x reader

TW: Violence, murder, generally bad things, implied non/con, no explicit smut but heavy Non/con groping!!, discussion of sexual slavery, mention of cannibalism, Christian elements but it is because I am and I am less afraid of stuffing up Christian stuff than other religions. If you are uncomfortable with any of that move on This man is not nice. Pet names: little mutt, little one and little lamb. Let me know if I missed anything let me know

ALPHABET HERE

Also, I tried to do Gn but as I am a woman, I automatically write with a female reader in mind. But!!!!! I have tried my very best to not mention gender. If something doesn't work please tell me. Reader discretion is advised! Also, I hope I don't need to say this but I will just in case, I do not condone these sorts of actions!!! Or any actions in any of my work. This is pure fiction. Also, all my OCs and the reader are over the age of 18+. and I'm not gonna add google translate because that takes forever and you guys won't even be able to read it so he conveniently speaks the same language as the reader.

Notes: Aaaaa! I have 21 followers! You guys are absolutely amazing! I never thought anyone would want to read my stuff let alone like and reblog. This doesn't take place in any place in particular, if anything I heavily rely on the climate of my home. I was though heavily influenced by Vikings and their nordic culture of that time, however, I had originally planned to make the oc a barbarian of sorts and not a Viking. But my inspiration dive into Pinterest left me with Vikings so here we are. I might write a nomadic barbarian fic later on cause I do see them as quite different in my mind but it depends where this goes, I usually write the notes and triggers before I start writing as a way of planning my thoughts so it might change halfway through.

Also the climatic event in the beginning, in my mind, is the cause of a volcanic eruption somewhere on earth, there was a year of just constant winter due to a massive eruption a few centuries ago and I wanted to include that and showcase how superstitious the people of this time were, seeing the winter as a foreshadowing of terror. And hell they were right.

Lots of love Mae xx

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It was far too early in the season for the cold winds to be here. Your father pretended to not be frightened but you could see it in his eyes. There was a fear lingering. You could hear your parents whispering in worry when they thought you were asleep. You could hear your mother sob as they discussed what it could mean. Your homeland was one of sun and thunder, but never frost, never snow. Yet, a chill had descended onto your lands. A frost had spread across the summer grass. Your bare feet crunched upon what should have been dried pasture, instead, they were chilled by a wicked frost. The sun that you would curse for its harsh warmth was now hidden behind constant grey clouds and you begged for it to return. The floods and storms you ragged against never came. No seasonal thunderstorms after the humidity of the day. There was just darkness. Travellers and merchants from far-off lands, journeying to the capital came through your village, speaking of the darkness that had spread. It seemed like no kingdom or empire was safe. The frost and darkness had come for all.

The first omen of their arrival was the frost itself. It seeped into everything and made the ground as solid as rock, the summer pastures shrivelled up and left nothing but dirt behind.

The second omen was the famine. The harvest failed and the livestock starved. Your father was forced to sell the heifers and cows and slaughter all calves and steers to provide for your family. Still, it wasn't enough. You heard gruesome tales of far-off villages butchering each other for scraps of meat from their bones. Your village was lucky, the sea still provided as much as it could.

The third omen was the dragons. Firey images in the night sky, leaving streaks of light hanging in the air. As soon as they appeared men cried out and women fell to their knees. It was a sign of a terror to come.

The final omen was a raven.

The skies had begun to clear and the winter rains had soothed the harsh scars left behind. Crops had been sown and the frost retreated in the face of the reappeared sun. You had all thought that the struggles of the last few months were over. Your father had been able to buy a cow with calf last week with money you made weaving baskets. She was a skinny thing even with the calf in her belly, but with the winter rain healing the land, you could see her regaining strength.

You had thought it was a crow when you first saw it. It did seem to be a bit bigger than the crows that waited patiently for your fish scraps by the pier. But you had never seen a raven before, so why think anything of it. It had flown in from the sea, flew over the village before fixing its gaze on your mother's garden. Your mother prized her garden, especially her roses, and had cried bitter tears when the frost killed the flowers, leaving thorny masses behind, but they had begun to regrow, leaving your families house surrounded by a beautiful arrangement of daisies and violas, butterfly pea flowers and lilacs. You had your favourites of course. In fact, you were picking them right now, happy to make a bouquet for your ancestors' burial place. As you were sitting and deciding which flowers to choose, the raven landed beside you, you watch in amazement as it plucked a flower from your hand and rose into the air and back towards the sea. Standing up with a giggle you chased after it in play until you reached your property's fence. You watched until it was nothing but a black dot in a sky of blue. If you had known what it had foreshadowed you would have wrung its neck.

They themselves came in the night.

They landed on the beaches and in silence drifted into town. Axes drawn and blood-hungry. The first death was the blacksmith. He was stumbling from the inn, stomach filled with ale. He saw them first, and let out a cry of warning, but it did not save him from a dagger sliding across his throat. The killer let out a howl. His comrades followed. The screams began.

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You had lost sight of your mother in the smoke of the burning village. Fire ragged towards the heavens. The smell of charcoal and blood ravaged your senses. The yelling and screaming were just a constant now. Like how a bird song drifts into the background. You stood immobile calling for your mother, begging her to reveal herself. Out of habit, you called for your father, but you were harshly reminded that dead men can't answer. You watched as the savages ripped men to the ground and let blood flow. They hadn't noticed you yet it seemed. A lone wraith shaking in the centre of town. In the centre of all the murder and mayhem. For a moment you thought you were dead. That the arrow your father had taken for you had indeed struck you and now you were wandering the mortal realm alone and afraid until St Peter called for you.

Your eyes reached towards the heavens and you began to beg for the angels to pluck you from this horror. Your arms wrapped around yourself as tears flowed down your soot-covered cheeks. You were broken from your prayers when you heard your name being called, your mother perhaps? Your eyes rushed to find her. No, you can't see her. But it was enough to have you moving towards the darkness and away from the light of the fire. With your arms still holding you tight, you began to stumble towards the outskirts of town. Once in the fields outside town, you could hide. Wait till they grew bored of your village and left in their ships to torment another village. You were reminded of a time when you were fearful of the dark. But now it was your salvation. Tripping over your feet you struggled to remain standing, leaning on the walls of yet-to-be-destroyed houses and holding onto the rungs of fences. You kept rushing forward, eyes onto the safety of darkness. You were close, only a few more steps.

A beast emerged from the darkness. His face burned with the light of the fire, and his axe shined with delight. His furs were matted with blood and encompassed his shoulder. His arms were bare save for strips of leather circling them. There was blood on his arms and hands as well, dripping onto the handle of his axe and onto the dirt below. You stood still, hoping perhaps you were dead. That he would just pass by and you could remain nothing more but a spirit. If death was without pain you would prefer it to the horrors the beast in front of you was capable of. His face was marked with blood, lines travelling over his forehead and down through his eyes. His eyes flickered with hunger and his mouth was turned up into a grin. He stood feet wide as if he was ready to battle, but his hand was loose on the axe, allowing it to dangle from his palm. He saw no threat in you.

A strange mix of sounds came from his mouth, while his voice was rough and stern, his words were lyrical and filled with rounded sounds and quick sharp notes. It left you confused and almost enchanted, like a deer in the gaze of a hunter.

His voice stopped and his eyes drifted down and then up. He gave a deep laugh at the site of your cowering.

"Come little mutt, stand tall" he chuckled with amusement. You whimpered at the sight of him, a beast of a man denying your freedom. He began to march towards you his axe swinging in his hold. You try to take steps back but he is quicker. You yelp as he pushes you towards a wall, his thick forearm resting against your neck as he peers down at you. You could see the scars littering his face and could smell the stench of blood dominating his body. You could feel the warmth of the blood from his arm smearing all over your neck and chest. You hated to think whose blood it once was.

"Little mutt has no teeth huh? What about claws? hm?" he questioned, joy in your torment in his eyes.

"If I was to fuck you now would you fight me? Would you claw at me or bite at my fingers?" he laughed at your obvious fear. He brought his head down to your neck and sniffed loudly. You cringed as his nose met your skin.

"You smell sweet little mutt. I wonder if you taste just as good"

you struggled as his tongue run up your neck, tears tumbling down your cheeks.

"As sweet as honey!" he cheered. His forearm dug into your neck further as you struggled to escape. He began to shush you, giving out soothing sounds like you would a crying baby as his body stepped forward to meet yours.

" Please don't kill me" you choked, eyes red with fear.

"Never little one!" he bellowed, his face of mock hurt. "Why would I kill you? hm?" he comforted, releasing his arm if only by a fraction. "You will fetch me a high price at the slave markets, little lamb. Men will go mad trying to buy you for their beds" he grinned, showing off his sharp canine teeth. You struggled once more, this time clawing at his arm and chest.

"So the little mutt has claws! Maybe I will keep you for myself. Use you to warm my cock. Would you like that little one?" he teased, he moved his face closer, his tongue darting out to catch the tears on your cheek.

" Get off me" you grunted, desperately trying to remove his arm. he teased you by feigning pity.

"Poor little lamb, you must be so scared. Trapped by a beast like me" he cooed, pushing his arm further into your skin. You watched as his eyes drifted to your chest below his arm. He dropped the axe in his other hand to the ground, it falling flat with a light thud. He looked you in the eyes once more. You could see mischief in them.

"I am torn between keeping you for my bed slave and making a small fortune on another man's desires. Let me see your wares and then I shall decide" he sang, his grin reaching higher and higher with each word. You could only watch in horror as his hands reached for the front of your night smock and ripped it. You tried to grab his wrists but he was too strong. In a mere moment, your smock lay tattered on the ground and you stood bare in the night air. His eyes drank you in, and his hands drifted over your body. He gripped tightly in some places and softly in others. Blood from his hands was left smeared all over you, like rivers on a map. His eyes found yours once more and glee was evident on his face.

"I have decided little mutt. You shall warm my bed and most importantly me" he proclaimed, laughing at the end. "I am to be your master and you the little mutt at my heels. But first, let me dull those claws, hm?"

You stood arms covering yourself confused at his words. You had no claws to dull.

You gave a shriek as he began to drag you into the darkness. His hand was tight against your wrists. You tried to use your body weight to stop him, but it only ended with you falling to the ground and him dragging you through the dirt. You screamed and kicked, shouted and cried. He just laughed.

The dirt turned to soft grass as released you from his grip. You shot up to your bare feet, only to be thrown to the ground and a foot thrown on your stomach.

"I admire your fight little mutt, but as your master, I cannot in good conscious allow you to disrespect me. it would not be natural." he cooed at you, his hair falling into his eyes. You choked out a sob at the thought of what he planned to do. You were both far enough from the town your screams would not be heard and you were both hidden by lush pasture. You began to pray, your words drowning in sobs.

"Our father who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy kin-"

"Enough!" shouted, falling onto his knees above you, a dagger glinting in his hand.

"Keep your God, fine, but do not expect kindness from me when you beg for his mercy" he sneered. You watched in terror as the dagger raced towards your head, only for it to land safely in the soil next to you.

"Now little lamb moan sweetly for me, will you?" he smiled, his grin one of filth. You lay there looking up at him in fear. "I said moan" he barked, his hand reaching for your throat. You gave him what he wanted, although it was tarnished by your terror.

"Like the music of the gods" he praised. He removed his hand from your throat and brought both to your knees, lifting them up and slotting himself in between them.

"Look at you little mutt, shaking and cowering in fear and yet I haven't even fucked you yet. You Christians are strange folk. If you knew of pleasure you would be moaning on my cock by now. You yourself would have begged for it. Begged for me to fuck your tight little hole on the ashes of your ho-" you slapped him with a furry. A rage releases from you, with you reaching for the dagger beside your head. His hand reached for yours first and punished it with his strength. He gave off a terrifying laugh as you were forced to drop the knife and he quickly threw it behind him.

"Maybe you aren't a little mutt but a little wolf instead. That fire in you will warm my cock and balls for years to come. But first, let me break you in"

You really did wish that arrow had found its mark in you.

#vikings #oc #gn!reader #viking oc #i noticed i write in past tense. I guess thats just my writing #i was going to tag yandere but it isnt #its just dark #viking x reader #oc viking x reader #dark fic #dark drabble #tw noncon

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buckyswintersoldiermask · 2 years ago

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Daddy’s Back: Part 4.5 1/2 Mommy’s Inner Turmoil

Steve Rogers x fem!reader, Fem!reader x OCs

Bucky Masterlist ✸ Steve Masterlist ✸ Series Masterlist

Summary: What’s going on inside (y/n)‘s mind? With Buckys return, Mara’s appearance, and Steve keeping secrets from y/n.

Warnings: a mention of weight, self deprecating thoughts, (if I missed anything let me know)

Word Count: 2.05k

A/N: I am in no way diagnosing (y/n). I am just trying to show that this whole situation is taking a toll on her, because she’s trying to decide what to do.

Italics and bold: dream

Italics: flashback

The kids are finally asleep, you get some time to yourself. You turn on the shower and get inside and cry. You cry your eyes out until you can’t cry anymore. All these memories that you pushed deep down, coming back up now that he’s here.

Why is this happening to me? You think, what did I do for this to happen? You thought you would live happily ever after with Bucky and your kids, that’s what you’ve always wanted for yourself. A stable job, happy marriage, kids. Well you got 2 of the 3.

Your mind was flooding with doubt and anxiety. Was this the right thing to do? Was it good for the kids? Was it good for you? Was Steve a good enough father figure for them? Would they want to know their father in the future if you didn’t tell them Bucky’s their father?

All this anxiety that was welling up in you for weeks finally exploded. You started to think about your life before all of this happened, you weren’t this stressed and worried about doing the wrong thing. You and Steve were on good terms. Everything has changed.

You could remember the day he left like it was yesterday, you came home and all his things were either gone or on the floor. He left and he didn’t leave a note or anything, he blocked your number and Steve’s number and fled.

You got out of the shower and stared at yourself in the mirror, the bags under your eyes more prominent, the weight you’ve lost over the past few weeks from stress. Your peaceful life has been flipped upside down within months and you’re still wondering if you’re doing the right thing. Steve has been lying to you and Bucky has been truthful, what a change of events. Steve, your best friend, a liar?

‘I want you to meet my best friend, Bucky.”

“As a friend or are you trying to set me up Steven?” You questioned.

“However you want to see it.”

Steve took you to a well-known restaurant in the city. You sat down and waited for Bucky to arrive. After getting your drinks a tall lean guy with brown hair walked in, Steve waved him down and he walked over.

“Hi, I’m James, but my friends call me Bucky.” He says smiling at you. He was wearing a uniform which looked a lot like a military or army uniform. He sat down across from Steve and took of his hat and placed it beside him.

“You’re in the army?” you asked.

“Yes, what gave it away?” He joked.

“I’d say the hat and badges.”

“Right, yes, I’m in the army.

19 year old you liked Bucky. You thought he was funny, charming, smart, the whole nine yards. Maybe Steve has good taste you thought.

You, Steve and Bucky chatted the rest of lunch until Bucky had to leave. He wrote his number on a napkin so the both of you could meet later, without Steve around.

You smiled and folded the napkin, putting it into your pocket.

“You sly man, you knew good and well that was literally my type.”

“I never said I was trying to set you up, I just said you should see it however you want to see it.”

You rolled your eyes and smacked his shoulder, “whatever.”

You got dressed and laid in your bed pondering your decisions the past few years. Should you have believed he would change? Should you believe it now?

Now he’s back and he’s so happy, you hate it. You hate seeing him happy. He doesn’t deserve it.

Almost every night for weeks after he left you cried, wondering was it your fault he left. Did he not love you? Did he fall out of love? Was he disgusted by your body? You questioned everything. You didn’t know what to believe, but you got through it. Now that feeling is back. Now you want to crawl into a hole and don’t come out, but you know you can’t do that. You have to be strong for your kids.

You decided to ransack your room to find your photo album, the one you hid from the kids, the ones that have photos of Bucky in them. You searched for hours until you found it, deep in your closet.

You dusted it off and brought it to your bed. It was pretty thick, and had a light blue cover that said “family.” You opened the first page and your eyes saw the first picture, the ultrasound picture of when you found out you were pregnant with Canan, along with 2 pregnancy tests.

You smiled, remembering how happy you were to become a mom, you wanted to give your kids everything you never had.

You flipped through the pictures some more until you got to Iris’ section of the book. Then, there was the photo. The photo of you, Bucky, Canan and Iris. A few weeks after Iris was born, Steve took the picture and got it printed out, making a couple copies.

Why did he take this picture? You thought, why take the one with you in it? Why not the one with just the kids? Before you knew it you fell asleep, exhausted, tired of dealing with everything.

Your sleep didn’t last long once your alarm went off. You woke up and called Steve, hoping he’d pick up. After a few rings he picked up, confused as to why you were calling him so early, “everything alright (y/n)?”

“I need you to take the kids to school today, please.” You requested.

“Yeah, sure, of course, are you okay?”

“I, I, need a day.” You confessed.

“Okay. Alright. Yeah I’ll take them to school, should I pick them up after?”

“If you can.”

“Sure, I can. I’m on my way.”

“Thank you, Steve.” You sighed into the phone before hanging up. You went into your bathroom, pulling yourself together before going to wake up the kids.

You went down stairs and made their lunch as they did their morning routine. You finished up their lunches when there was a knock on the door, Steve.

You let him in and handed him the lunch bags, “thank you so much Steve.”

“No problem ,(y/n). Are you okay?”

You nod not verbally answering him because you know you don’t know how.

The kids finally come downstairs and eat breakfast before saying goodbye. Steve told him that he’d be picking them up today and dropping them off, which they were so excited about.

You waved as Steve drove off with them in the car and once they hit the end of the street you went inside. You called your boss letting her know you can’t come in today.

You grabbed your favorite snack from the kitchen and plopped on the couch to watch your favorite show. Less than 30 minutes later, Steve was walking inside your house with donuts.

“I brought donuts.” He says taking his key out the lock.

“You didn’t have to do that.” You responded by not moving from the couch.

“I know, but I wanted to, you seem like you’re having a rough morning.” You cackle at his comment. You were having more than just a rough morning.

“I didn’t mean to laugh, sorry.” Steve took off his jacket and came over to the living room, seeing you up close. He saw the bags under your eyes, how red your eyes were and just how exhausted you looked.

“(y/n), what’s going on?”

You chuckled, “What isn’t going on? Hmm? My ex boyfriend/baby daddy came back with a wife and a baby on the way. And! You gotta wait for this part. He kept a picture of me and the kids with him once he left.”

Steve didn’t know what to say. You were obviously not okay. Steve got up and got the donuts and sat them next to you. “(y/n). I’m sorry.”

“Everybody’s sorry nowadays,” you pause, taking in a deep breath holding back a sob, “why’d he have to come back? Why’d he have to mess up everything I did for myself?”

“I don’t know (y/n), but you don’t have to go through with any of this.”

“But I do, what if my kids grow up and find out about Bucky, Mara, and the baby and how I kept that from them?”

“They’d know you were just protecting them.”

“You can’t speak for them, Steve. You don’t know what they will be like in the future.”

Iris came down stairs after finishing her homework to talk to you,

“Mom, I met a girl at school today, her name was Clara, I noticed she looks a lot like Canan.”

“Oh maybe, you’re related somewhere down the line.” You reply not looking up from the vegetables you're cutting for dinner.

“No mom it’s not like that, they look so much alike, almost identical. Clara Is about 5 years younger than me.”

“Like I said, maybe some genetics down the line.”

“I think she said her last name was Barnes? Me and Canan’s last names are (l/n)- Barnes.”

“Yeah, maybe she’s a cousin.” You shrug, hoping she’d leave the conversation alone. Just when you were about to start talking again, Canan came downstairs, and stood next to Iris.

“Tell me about dad.” Iris demands, standing at the edge of the counter.

“Why? No good will come out of it, Iris.”

“I deserve to know about him. I don’t know about him and I hate that, mom. I just want to know who I am.” Iris explained, looking into your eyes with so much curiosity.

“He wasn’t anyone important.”

Canan cuts in scoffing at your response, “Anyone important? He’s our father.”

You sighed knowing you weren’t getting out of this, “so me and your father knew each other when we were very young, we moved into this house and we were together for a while, then I became pregnant with Canan and then you Iris.”

“What happened after that?” Iris asked.

“He left.” You said, as you stopped cutting the vegetables and looked up at your daughter.

“So, it’s possible, me and Canan might be related to Clara.” Iris points out, using a tone in her voice you cannot recognize.

You clear your throat, “maybe.”

“So you kept the fact that our father is alive and that we may have another sibling or siblings.” Iris continues, “so you just decided that you’d keep that from us. Were you ever going to tell us?”

“I was trying to protect the both of you.” You shake your head knowing this is a mess.

“You know I’ve always had issues growing up without a father, and you just chose not to let me meet him?” Canan asks, shaking his head.

“Steve was here. I wanted to protect both of you. I love you both and I did not want either of you to get hurt by him.”

“You we’re protecting yourself. He left you mom, and you didn’t want to have to bear to see him again so you just never told us about him. I could have a sister, a sister I’ve always wanted and you kept that from me.”

“Iris..”

“No. No. I can’t believe you’d keep this from us.”

“Iris, honey, please-.”

Iris walks away, leaving the kitchen and running up the stairs, “No.”

“Canan, please, let me-.”

“I don’t want to hear your excuses mom.”

You jolt awake, your eyes wide as can be. You don’t even remember falling asleep. That dream was so real you thought it was actually happening. You thought your children were pissed at you for a decision you made that impacted their entire life. You looked on your side table and saw Steve had left while you went to sleep, he left a note.

You went to sleep so I left, almost time for me to get the kids - Steve.

You pulled yourself together and shook off that dream. You didn’t want that to be their future. You didn’t want them to be upset with you for not giving them all the details.

Please do not steal, copy or translate my writings, or post them on other sites.

Likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated :)

Bucky& Steve: @qhbr2013 @allforkook @tinylumpiaa @sammypotato67 @leyannrae @teebarnes @teti-menchon0604 @mogaruke @instabull @ccosmic-illusion @supraveng @1-800-imagines @chris-j-evans @supremethunda @amelia-song-pond @weenersoldierr @leyannrae

DB tags: @vicmc624

Kofi

Taglist

#Daddy’s Back #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky x y/n #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x fem!reader #reader x oc #reader x ocs #buckyswintersoldiermasksfics #buckyswintersoldiermask’s fics #bucky barnes x oc #steve rogers x oc

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kireimarkeu · 4 years ago

Text

We got Married!; mk.l

[johnny]

character: oc x husband!mark lee

summary; where you and mark join a television show as husband and wife.

genre; fluff!

word count: 5.6k

a/n; i wasn’t really planning to write a wgm ver for mark, but i had so much ideas suddenly come to me so here it is :) i think i’ve grown and has written different kinds of fics, and i feel really confident in this one! i think you can see the difference if you read the johnny one compared to this hehe :) i really hope you guys like this because i reallyyyy did!!!

also, thank you guys for 500 followers! i havent done much but repost old works, but still got followers lmfaooo

also a little note: bold + italic means mark is in the studio watching the show together

italic means questions are being asked to y/n and mark in the interview area

enjoy you guys :)

Episode 22

“Hello, I am NCT Mark and I am 22 years old,” a smile adorns his lips as the boy next to you bow at the camera.

“Hello, I am Mark’s wife, Y/N, and I am 21 years old,” you greet, bowing politely at the camera.

“This is the first time we have very young guests coming to our show,” one of them said.

“I think many fans are wondering why you had gotten married at such a young age?” one asked.

Another continued, “yeah, I don’t think it’s common in Korea,” they said, “I heard that Mark used to live in Canada for some time, is it common to get married at such a young age, there?”

Mark chuckles, shaking his head, “No, no, we both decided to get married young because we have always talked about spending our 20s together.”

“How long have the both of you been married?”

Mark looks at you before answering, “We got married just a few months ago, actually.”

“To be exact, it has been about 4 months now,” you continued.

“How long did you guys date?”

“We dated for about 3 years, before we both decided that we wanted to get married straight away,” your husband answers.

“Wait, 3 years? But the news of you guys dating came out a year ago, though?”

“We dated secretly~” Mark replied shyly.

“You guys are the youngest couple to be on our show, has anyone been opposed to the idea of you guys getting married at such a young age?”

Your hand lands on your husbands shoulders, “to start, of course we received a lot of hate comments online when the news came out, but we knew this was what we wanted, so we never really doubted for a second.”

Mark agrees with your words, “yeah, our parents were also a little skeptical by our plans but we were adults and had explained clearly why we wanted to get married at such a young age.”

You hum along with Mark’s words.

“Tell us honestly, was it hard dating someone when you are one of the biggest boy group in Korea?” one of them asked Mark.

Mark though for a moment, he wasn’t sure if he should spill out the truth or just butter everything up. “Well, of course it was. I knew what I was getting into and so did Y/N,” he says, “and as expected we knew that if we get caught, there would be tons of comments about us.”

“How did you overcome the mean comments?”

“Of course, we had both shared tears because of those comments, but we promised to never leave each other because of what others think.”

The scene started with the both of you eating breakfast at the dinner table.

The casts of We Got Married started laughing at the sight of Mark’s bed head.

“You know, we really need to go grocery shopping,” you tell your husband who was sitting before you.

He hums, “we’ll go this afternoon, I need to get some things too,”

You swallow your food, “what things, babe?”

“Doyoungie’s birthday is just around the corner, and I wanna bake him a cake,” he tells you.

You squint your eyes at the boy, “bake? Are you sure you won’t burn down our kitchen?”

He rolls his eyes at your words, “I’m a grown up, babe, I definitely know how to bake,”

“Didn’t Mark went trending for a while when he cooked eggs?” the members laugh.

“I remember that!”

.•° ✿ °•.

The scene changed to the both of you in the grocery store. You were searching for ingredients that you had written down in your phone.

You would often forget items, so before you leave the house, you would type down all the things you would need in your phone.

Mark on the other hand, would get food on impulse- mostly snacks and instant food. You don’t mind, but space is limited, every time your husband joins you, he would overspend and in the end, you wouldn’t have space to keep all the extra food.

“Baby, you know we don’t need all these,” you sigh tiredly, your hand gesturing to the different types of chips laying in the cart. “Just pick one, honey, we can’t have everything from the store,” you say exasperatedly.

Mark pouts at you but quickly removes most of the chips until there was 2 left. You decided to close an eye since you saw one of the new chips that you had been dying to try out.

“Have you gotten the ingredients for the cake?”

Mark raises his eyebrows at your words, his hands digging through the pile of food in the cart before pulling out a box of cake mix.

Episode 27

“Let’s welcome the couple who has received good remarks after coming to our show!” one of them said, followed by a series of claps.

“Wah~ I really did not expect to receive so much nice comments,” Mark says with his hands placed on his chest, “Thank you so much everyone, y/n and I spent the whole night reading all of your comments.”

“Actually, I’m curious,” one of them quickly adds in, “how did the baking go for your member’s birthday?”

“I ended up burning the cake, so Y/N helped me from scratch,” he says sheepishly.

The casts laugh in unison.

“Did Doyoung know?”

Mark shakes his head, “I lied and told him that I was the one who made the cake, but he didn’t believed me, so I ended up telling him the truth,” Mark says, flustered.

The scene started with the both of you walking in the park. Strings of coos left the casts lips when they saw you wearing a dress with your hair braided to one side.

With squinted eyes, the both of you tried to find a good shaded spot in the park before putting down a disposable picnic mat, placing each of your shoes on each corner to prevent it from flying around.

You place the picnic basket in the middle of the mat while Mark took a seat, enjoying the view. You took out all the food that you had prepared a few hours prior.

“Do you need help, babe?” you hear your husband ask from beside you.

You shake your head, “I’m good,”

After you had settled all the food down, you finally let your legs stretch before you, leaning your head on your husband’s shoulder.

Mark’s hand that was previously resting on the plastic picnic mat, finds yours, lacing his fingers with you, “this is nice isn’t it?”

You nod, letting out a satisfied hum. You point towards his phone, “I think you have some songs prepared for this particular moment, am I right?”

“Oh, Mark do you actually have multiple playlists for different occasion?” one of the cast asks.

Mark nods sheepishly, “I think it just became a habit of mine,”

“I’m not surprised though- he is in the music industry after all, I think it is pretty common, right?”

“I suppose so? It just doesn’t feel right to me if the music doesn’t match with the vibes.”

Mark reaches out for his phone, clicking on a particular playlist called ‘when the sun’s out’. Soon, the first song started playing softly in the background.

A content sigh leaves your lips, “you know, if I had to choose one thing I’m grateful for you, it has to be your taste in music,” you tell him, quickly pressing your lips against his cheeks softly.

Mark turns red at your gesture, his hand clutching yours tighter.

“Now I’m curious, what is your favourite song at the moment,” one of them asks, turning to face Mark.

“I really like Justin Bieber a lot,” he answers, “But right now, I can’t stop listening to Good Days by SZA.”

An hour has past by, most of the food already gobbled up by you two.

“Babe,” Mark calls, poking you on the arm.

“Hm?”

“Aren’t you tired?” he asks you, “you woke up super early to make food.”

A soft smile spreads across your lips, “a little, why?”

Your husband softly pats his lap, “come lie down and nap a little. The wind feels really good right now,”

You cleaned everything up and made space for yourself. You comfortably laid your head on Mark’s lap.

“You know,” you started, “I really wish I could look at you right now, but the sun’s too bright.”

Mark rolls his eyes, “don’t be annoying and go to sleep,” he says, his finger softly flicking your cheek.

A soft laughter left you before you finally shut your eyes, dozing off quietly while laying in your lover’s lap.

Once Mark realises that you were asleep, he quietly raises his hands to cover your face from the sun.

“Awww! You are such a romantic, Mark!”

When you realise the bright light was gone, you open an eye to look at your lover who was looking at his phone, with his hand still high up to cover you from the bright sun.

A smirk adorns your lips, your eyes shutting close. You grab his hands, startling your husband. Lacing your fingers with his, you bring them down to your chest.

“I don’t want your arms to be in pain,” you mumble, stroking his hands with your thumb.

You hear Mark scoff at your statement, “I think I can handle it, babe. But, whatever you say.”

A few moments later, you feel his sculpted hands playing with your hair. He would occasionally massage your scalp or tangle your hair between his fingers.

You didn’t say a word, feeling comfortable.

The episode ended with Mark pressing a long kiss on your forehead, before pulling away.

“This couple is too cute!”

“It’s really unfair that I’m still single, this couple makes me want to get married so bad!” one of them agrees.

Episode 35

“After a long time, the couple is finally back again for another episode!” the cast says excitedly, “the last time they were here, the couple went on a romantic picnic date, leaving us all with envy!”

Mark laughs at their comment.

The scene started with the both of you entering the SM building. You had a cap and a mask on, hopefully to cover your identity from the fans waiting outside.

Although the news of you guys being a married couple had came out a few months ago, there were times where you did not feel like getting your pictures taken. Which, to be honest, was a rare moment for you and Mark since he is one of the biggest boy group.

You held onto your husband’s hands who was leading the way to the practice room.

Once he finds an available room, Mark quickly puts his things down on an empty table.

“Okay, so first we need to do some stretching so we don’t hurt ourselves when we dance later,” Mark tells you.

“Why did you want to dance?”

“To be honest, I really hate working out,” you tell them truthfully, “so I asked Mark if he could teach me some dance choreography,”

“Are you good at dancing?”

You laugh, “absolutely not! I have never danced in my life, so this is my first time.”

“She’s too adorable!”

“Babe, can we do something super easy?” you request, taking off your cap since it was covering your vision.

Your husband nods, “yeah, we’re gonna do Kick It today.”

You wince at that. Kick It is the easiest he could think of? You didn’t say anything, following whatever your husband says.

“Okay, so, we won’t do like- the whole choreography,” your husband enunciate. Just as you were about to let out a relieved sigh, Mark continues, “we’ll do from the first chorus onwards.”

Your mouth went wide.

The casts laugh at your reaction.

“Okay, so the chorus kinda goes like this-” he shows you, looking at you through the mirror, “you know it right? you’ve done it before,”

You were at a loss of words, “I mean- I guess? But it’s not perfect so you still have to teach me!” you whine.

Why is he going so fast? you though to yourself.

“Okay, okay,” he chuckles.

For the next few hours, Mark teaches you the choreography step by step.

Your husband was standing behind you, his hands resting on yours, positioning your hands at the right position.

However, you ruined the romantic moment by stepping away from the male and turning to face him with furrowed eyebrows.

The casts let out a series of grumbled sighs.

“Why did Y/N step out? It was such a romantic moment!”

“Exactly!” the other adds on.

“Can we please take a break?” you whine, wiping the sweat that was rolling down your forehead, “I’m so tired,” you huff out, throwing yourself at your husband as he captures you in his arms.

Mark chuckles, agreeing. He grabs your hand, pulling you to sit down on the empty chair. He quickly runs to the other side of the room to grab two bottles of water, opening one of them and passing it to you.

He opens one for himself before gulping half of the bottle down his throat.

After you had gulped the whole bottle down, you tried to catch your breath. “I didn’t know it would be this tiring,” you confess, “is this what you go through everyday?”

The boy chuckles, “yeah, but a shorter period.”

You roll your eyes at his statement, “Okay, show-off,” you joke.

Meanwhile, in the background, Kick It was playing on repeat. An idea pop in your head.

“Wanna know something?” you asked your boyfriend.

He nods.

“I’ve been practicing your rap part of this song,” you tell him, “I can rap your part word for word without any mistakes,” you say arrogantly, a smirk forming on your lips.

“Oh yeah?” he challenges, “my part is coming up, I would love to see you try, babe.”

You stand up from your sitting position with your bottle of water in hand. Getting ready for the verse, you bring your hand that was holding the bottle to your mouth- pretending it was a mic.

“I’m really excited to see Y/N rap,”

“Me too, she seems so confident,” the other adds on.

When the verse started playing, you rapped your husband’s part.

Mark started laughing hysterically when you started mumbling random words. “Dude!” your husband laughs, his hand slapping his knee multiple times when you rap incoherently.

His laughter only ceased when the music stopped. “Oh my god,” he says breathlessly, his fingers wiping the tears from his eyes. “I think you should replace me in NCT,” he jokes.

Just as you were about to reply, you heard a group come in. You turn around swiftly, your eyes widening when you see the familiar girls walk in.

“Oh, oh,” Wendy cheers, “what’s the couple doing in the practice room alone?”

“Oh my god, is that Red Velvet?” one of them asks, looking over at Mark with widened eyes.

Mark laughs and nods his head.

“Oh.. perhaps, you could ask them for their autograph the next time you see them,” they ask sheepishly, “my bias is Seulgi,” they quickly add on.

Mark laughs harder at that, “sure, if I see them around, I’ll make sure to ask for their autograph,”

“Oh hello,” you greet the girls, they bow politely back at you.

Your husband chuckles awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck as he greets the girls. “I’m just practicing with Y/N”

Mark never got the chance to properly meet them in private- it was either with his members or never. Hence, he felt a little nervous seeing them in private.

Irene raises her eyebrows, “are you guys performing for something?” she asks, pointing at the both of you.

You shake your head, “I just wanted to learn for fun,”

Wendy nods, “are you guys going to practice some more?” she asks, looking at the both you expectantly, “cause’, if you guys want to, go ahead. Our choreographer is going to be late so we have time to spare.”

Mark checks the time on his watch before shaking his head, realising it was already pretty late and didn’t want to disturb the girls with their schedule.

“No, it’s fine, we have to go anyway. I don’t want to steal your hour,” he says politely.

Ever since Mark had debut years ago, it was very hard for this group to book the practice room. So, whenever they managed to get the room, they would often use the room until the next person comes in.

You and Mark start packing up your things as the girls settle down and starts stretching.

The girls bid the both of you goodbyes as you quickly left the room.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, your hands clutching onto your husband’s arm as he looks at you in astonishment. “I just met Red Velvet,” you say to the boy next to you.

You hit his arm multiple times, “I literally met Red Velvet! I even talked to them, babe!” you squealed, hitting his arms harder. That was until Mark grabbed your hands for you to stop hitting his poor arm.

“Y/N hasn’t met Red Velvet?” they ask. Mark shakes his head, no. “Why not?”

“I knew she liked Red Velvet but she never really asked me if she could meet them,” Mark explains, “and we had this conversation before- meeting the other people in my company,”

“What about?”

“Y/N told me that she didn’t want to take advantage of my privilege, even though when I told her it was fine,” Mark explains. “So she never really asked about wanting to meet Red Velvet, or any of the other people in my company.”

“Jeez- babe,” he chuckles, putting your hand down and instead wrapping his arm around your shoulder, tugging you closer to him. “You were never that excited when you see me,” he jokes.

The both of you reach the ground floor, stepping out of the elevator.

“That’s because you’re not the prettiest girl group in the world!” you reply cheekily, a smirk playing on your lips.

“How long have you been a fan of Red Velvet?”

You hum, thinking back all the years you have been listening to their songs and collecting their PC Cards.

“I think it was a few months after debut?” you doubtfully reply. “It was when I had just came to Korea for school and one of their music was playing in a store, and I really liked it!”

Episode 43

“Ah, our Mark Lee! Where did you go?” the cast whined, tugging on his arms.

Mark cackle shyly, hiding his face slightly, “I’ve been very busy these days~” he says shyly, “my group had just finished promoting our recent full album,” he explains.

The casts cheers.

“I heard you guys won first for many awards!” one of them says, “congratulations to NCT! As expected, our talented group with many talents and visuals,” they compliment.

“Thank you,” Mark gives his signature grin, “actually, I felt bad for not being able to come on here for so long, so I actually brought our albums to gift it to you guys,” Mark says, reaching for the stacks of albums in the bag.

He hands each one of them the signed and personalised albums to the casts.

“I can’t wait to listen to this!”

“Is Y/N featuring in any of the songs?” they joke.

This time, the show started with you in the kitchen. You were cooking dinner since some of his members were coming over.

Mark on the other hand was sitting in the living room. He was seated on the floor, with papers spread all over the table. He had one of his hand holding a pen, swirling it around, while the other was pressed against his cheek.

“I wanted to produce a song with my own lyrics for this upcoming album,” Mark explains to the cast since they seemed to be a little confused.

“Have you produced a song with your own lyrics before?”

He nods, “I have, but I received help from others. This time I want to make a song that only has my own lyrics,” Mark explains.

“I never really got to ask an idol this question- but, is it hard to have your songs to be featured in an album?” one of them asks.

The spotlight was on Mark.

Mark nods, “it really depends. They usually focus on the music itself- since lyrics can be changed, but if the lyrics are too personal, most of the time they don’t really let you put it in a group album.”

“Did your song manage to be in the album?” one asks.

“Nope,” mark chuckles.

The casts laughs with Mark.

“Because it was too personal?”

Mark simply shrugs, and points at the screen to continue watching.

A heavy sigh leaves past the boy’s lips. He was staring blankly at the piece of paper.

The camera manages to capture everything that was written on the piece of paper. Messy scribbles was the only thing that could be seen.

“Babe,” you called. Mark quickly looks up at you, a pout on his lips. “Make sure you clean the table before the guys come,” you tell him, pointing to the mess on the coffee table.

This morning, Johnny had contacted Mark saying that he misses him and wants to visit. You quickly agreed, since you haven’t seen the boys in so long.

He hums, slamming his head softly on the coffee table, a groan coming out of him when he hit his forehead a little too hard.

A small chuckle left your lips when you heard his groans, “inspiration will come, babe,” you advise as you wipe the plates, “be patient.”

Mark turns his head so his cheek was pressed against the table as he stares at you.

“You look so pretty,” Mark mumbles, but you hear him clearly.

“Does Mark compliment you often?”

You nod slightly, “I wouldn’t say, all the time,” you exaggerate, “but it was definitely enough for me to know he loves me,” you giggle.

Mark continues to stare at you as you work on the food you were making. He was so deeply in love with you that sometimes he wonders what life would be like if he never met you.

He lays his eyes on you for the next 15 minutes. It definitely didn’t go unnoticed by you- but you had forgotten about it once you were properly focused on cutting the onions.

With heart eyes, a sweet smile spreads across your husbands lips.

The casts all coo at the romantic scene.

Mark finally sits up straight. With a grin plastered on his face, he grabs a clean sheet of paper and starts writing his feelings down. Surprisingly, he didn’t need a break, he continued writing for the next 30 minutes, satisfied with the lyrics.

“Did you write a song about Y/N?”

Mark nods, “I did, it was mostly how I felt about being with her.”

“Earlier you said that the song didn’t manage to be in the album, will you be posting the song on another platform?”

Mark scratches his head, uncertain, “I’ll have to ask my company about that,” he jokes.

Episode 47

“We’re finally back with our favourite couple! How are you, Mark?”

“Just fine, I’m preparing some things with my group, so I have been a little busy now a days,” Mark replies.

The casts sighs, “you’ve been working really hard, Mark.”

Mark simply chuckles awkwardly, unsure of what to say.

The show started with you sitting on the familiar chair in the building.

“Oh? The chair seems familiar?”

You had one of your legs crossed over the other with your right hand, holding your phone. You were scrolling through Instagram, hoping it would lessen your boredom.

After a few minutes, you put your phone down when you realised you’ve been scrolling for minutes now, but nothing had caught your eye on your feed. You let out an exhausted sigh, resting the palm of your hand against your cheek.

15 minutes later, your eyes widen when you see the familiar boys step out of the elevator.

You quickly stand up, walking up to the boys.

“Y/N!” they called, “oh my god, it has been forever since I last saw you!”

You giggle. Your eyes search for your husband but he was no where to be seen.

“He’s still upstairs, talking to the producer,” Johnny says when he notices you looking around.

You send him a smile, “I see. Are you guys going back home now?”

The rest of the boys were already walking away after tapping your shoulder to bid you goodbye without interrupting your conversation with Johnny.

“Jungwoo and Yuta are going to get dinner, the rest of us are heading home- it has been a long day, we’re all exhausted,” Johnny says dramatically.

The boy never fails to make you smile, “I know, Mark told me about your schedule.”

Johnny smiles, “also, Mark had a rough day,” he tells you. Your eyebrows raised in curiosity. You wondered what had happen.

“Did you know that Johnny had told Y/N about your day?”

He shakes his head, “I didn’t know, but I am thankful for him for always looking out for me.”

It was only 30 minutes later when you saw your husband step out of the elevator. Instead of his usual jog, he was stomping towards your direction. With the way he was walking and the all black outfit- it made him look even more intimidating then he already was.

Johnny was right, he definitely had a bad day today.

“Hi, baby,” you say softly, when he finally stands in front of you. You softly rub his arm, hoping it would calm him down a little, “you okay?”

Mark only hums, tugging on his bag when you attempt to take it from him. “i’ll carry it,” he says. You kept quiet, not wanting to worsen his temper.

The both of you quietly walk out of the building.

“Can we take a walk?” you ask, looking up at your husband.

He looks down at you and raises his eyebrows. Truthfully, he was already exhausted, but he would do anything you wanted. Mark shrugs, going with the flow.

The both of you started your walk in silence. Your husband had both hands tucked in his pockets with his lips pursed. You took multiple glances at the boy, wondering how you should comfort him.

After hesitating for a while, you wait until he has his hands out of his pockets. When you notice that he finally has his warm hands untucked, you instantly grab it in yours.

A smile form on your lips, when you hold on tightly onto his hands.

“Aw, she was trying to comfort you!”

“Wanna talk about it?” you speak up, tightening your grip on his hands.

Mark smiles, “not really, just thankful that I have you,” he says. You feel his thumb softly stroke the back of your hand, “you’re too good to me, Y/N.”

You scoff, “what do you mean? You are literally my soulmate, whenever you fall, I go down with you,” you reassure him. You nudge his shoulder with yours, “I’ll always be the shoulder you can lean on. No matter how bad it is, I’ll always be by your side.”

“How do you usually comfort Mark during his bad days?”

“He doesn’t talk about his feelings often,” you say, letting out a short chuckle. “But it’s pretty obvious, he isn’t very discreet with his emotions,” you laugh, nudging the boy next to you.

“Depending on how bad it is, I would try to leave him alone until he calls out for me.”

“Why won’t you talk about how you feel?”

“I have always grown up with this mindset- never give off negative energy to anyone who hasn’t done anything wrong,” he blurts out. “I feel like a burden whenever I would talk about my problems to anyone- not just Y/N.”

“I feel very thankful whenever he talks about his problems,” you say to the camera. “I feel proud that I am the one he could lean on.”

Episode 50

“Mark Lee is back!”

Series of claps could be heard from the room.

“I heard you had received multiple awards from MAMA!”

Another agrees, “that’s right! NCT won Favourite Male Group and Worldwide Fans' Choice Top 10! Congratulations to NCT!”

Another series of claps filled the room.

“Thank you so much! My group wouldn’t have received the award without all the loving support from all my fans,” Mark expresses his gratitude.

The show started with you sitting on the couch comfortably. You were deeply concentrated on watching something in front of you.

“What is she watching?”

The camera zooms out until the casts takes notice the television planted on the wall. The casts recognizes the ceremony playing on the television.

You were waiting for your husband’s group to start performing so you can take videos and pictures.

After watching the ceremony, you recognize the introduction to one of your husband’s songs. You sit up straight in excitement, fishing out your phone, ready to film his performance.

You had purposely took bad photos of your husband so you could laugh at them later with him.

15 minutes later, the performance ended. Even though you’re backstage, you still softly clapped at the end of his performance.

“Everytime I see Mark perform, I feel so shocked that we have such a talented guy on our show,” one of them says, making Mark chuckle.

“He was born to be a star,” another comments.

After a few more performances by other groups, it was time for the award ceremony.

You were extremely anxious for this. You hoped all the times that Mark had came home in the middle of the night only to leave again early in the morning or how he would injure himself but would still perform with full energy for his fans would be worth it.

You bit your lip anxiously, your palms had turned sweaty from the long wait of the awaited name.

“The Best Male Group of 2020 goes to...” the announcer trails off, opening the card that held the winner.

“Congratulations to BTS for being the Best Male Group of the year!”

You let out a huff, throwing your head back tiredly.

“You seemed really stressed,”

You nod, agreeing with them, “truthfully, I have seen Mark work really hard this year. It pained me to see him suffer so much and not being able to tell anyone.”

“Next, let’s see the nominated groups for Favourite Male Group!” says the announcer. The screen fills with different groups with their names.

You take a deep breath, sitting up again to watch the ceremony. Your lips purse in concentration.

“The Favourite Male Group of 2020 goes to...” the announcer trails off, opening the golden card.

A smile forms on their lips, “Congratulations to NCT for being the Favourite Male Group of 2020!”

You let out a gasp, looking at the stylists who was also watching the ceremony.

“Oh my god!” you squeal, “they said NCT, right? I didn’t hear it wrongly, right?” you ask everyone in the room.

The stylists nods, “its NCT!”

Your hand goes over your mouth in shock.

“Her reaction is so adorable,”

You watch the boys walk up on stage. Taeyong is the one to step forward to give his speech, followed by Johnny in english.

Finally your husband steps up.

“Wow,” he starts, his fans starts to scream louder. “this is so crazy. I want to start by thanking Lee Sooman for giving me the opportunity to be part of NCT. Next, thank you to our stylist and coordinator for the awesome outfits- we would never be able to win this award without the unique outfits and make up!”

He takes a deep breathe, “and of course, our dearest fans. Thank you for always supporting us, and giving us the opportunity to be on stage with this award,” he smiles when he hears his fans cheers. “Lastly, my wife who has always been by my side even during my ugliest side. Thank you for never giving up on me always bringing the best out of me.”

A grin forms on your lips, you soon became flustered from the coos coming from around you.

“I can’t wait to meet our little one soon. I love you, Y/N. Thank you,” he ends his speech, stepping off stage.

“Wait! What do you mean little one?!”

“I have been pregnant for 15 weeks now,” you say happily. “We have been trying for a baby for a while now, and we are officially having a kid soon!”

The whole casts starts freaking out.

“Why didn’t you tell us?!” they scolded Mark.

“We would like to ask the fans for the upmost support,” Mark adds. “With that, this would be our last episode as a We Got Married Couple.”

“This is a huge surprise!”

“We had so much memories on the show,” Mark admits.

“I had such a fun time on here, but for now, Mark and I had agreed that we want to put all of our focus on our baby,” you added.

“Wow... this is a happy ending,” the casts says.

“We would like to thank Mark Lee and Y/N for their contribution to the show,” they added.

“We really enjoyed watching you and Y/N being cute!”

“Thank you so much,” Mark bow, “it was an honour to come on this show,” Mark says, “I had so much fun, thank you so much for everything.”

“Thank you so much Mark. We hope you have a wonderful journey from now on and congratulations to your first child!”

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marvel-fanfic-writer-8675 · 3 years ago

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Giving Thanks

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Warnings: Tooth rotting fluff, a tiny bit of angst, comment if I missed anything

Summary: Bucky and reader get invited to readers’ family thanksgiving

As always, please do not steal, translate or copy my work without permission! Enjoy! Also I don’t own any of the Marvel characters only any OCs I create.

“Oh god.”

“What’s wrong doll?”

You had just gotten off the phone with your parents who had just invited, more like demanded, that you and your boyfriend attend the Thanksgiving dinner at their house with all of your family. Not a big deal…right? Except none of your family has met your giant scary teddy bear of a boyfriend.

“We have to go to my parents for Thanksgiving” you sighed. “Maybe I can make up an excuse, like I’m throwing up from food poisoning, or I’ve got a migrain? Ooh I got the flu, that’s going around this time of year right?” You start to frantically panic, thinking of ways to get out of this.

“Doll, doll, doll, breathe,” he calms you “what’s so wrong with going to Thanksgiving with your folks? I’m happy to meet the people who created this smart, gorgeous dame right here.” You give him a small smile and blush at his compliment. “I’m just nervous babe, my family can be a handful already and I don’t want any of their comments or something get you down, or hurt you.”

“ Doll…..” Bucky says suspiciously, “have you told your family about…my….past” he says as he stumbles on the last words. “I may have glossed over that a bit” you say shyly, “not because I’m ashamed of you or anything, I just don’t want them to form bias opinions of you before they meet the real you, the one who is a giant, friendly teddy bear with the best hugs and most charming smile” you frantically add.

Bucky sighs at his cute girlfriend knowing she was never ashamed of him or his past, after the many, MANY, times she had reiterated it to him. “Doll, we are going to go, and we are going to get through this, together.”

~ Time skip to the day before Thanksgiving ~

As the days pass, the tables have been turning. You are getting more excited while Bucky is getting more anxious.

“Punk, what am I going to do if her family doesn’t like me? Or if they hate me because of the Winter Soldier? What if Y/N breaks up with me because of it? Also, what about this outfit?” Bucky anxiously questions to Steve as he helps Bucky pick out an outfit for tomorrow. “Well first, Y/N loves you and you two have been dating for a year and a half, she’s not going to break up with you just because her family doesn’t like you, she’s told you this. Two, I would recommend not going to Thanksgiving dinner with just a shirt and underwear on, maybe try some pants.” Steve responds chuckling at his childhood friend being so nervous he forgot pants. Bucky runs, grabs pants, puts them on and does a spin “Well?” He questions, “ Looks good jerk, you’ll be fine.”

That night Bucky kept tossing and turning, unable to sleep from nerves, and it didn’t go unnoticed by you. “ Buck, what wrong?” “Nothing doll, just can’t sleep.” You sit up and look at his face, the nervousness seeping from it, “ Babe, I can tell you’re nervous, talk to me.” “I’m scared doll, what if….” You cut him off, “James,” you use his real name so he knows you are being serious, “ No more what ifs, I love you, they will love you, and you are the most charming guy I’ve ever met, you will be alright. And that 0.00001% chance they don’t like you, I. Don’t. Care. I would choose you over them without even having to think about it. I love you.” You give him a kiss and end your pep talk with “ Now get over here and let me cuddle the nerves out of you till you fall asleep.” He gives you a small laugh at that last part and wiggles over into your embrace, all his worries washed away.

Author’s note: Hey! This is my first fanfic, I hope you all enjoyed it! Should I make a part 2 where they go to the dinner? I probably will lol!

#bucky fluff #bucky barnes #marvelfanfic #marvel #bucky fanfic #steve rogers #thanksgivingfic #bucky fic #bucky x female reader #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n

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weirdthinkingdragon · 4 years ago

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Welcome To The Family (6/???)

1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / here

Yandere EraserMic household x reader

Fun fact- Tadao was a sudden decision I made up on the spot after chapter 3 and wasn’t expecting to really make him a character other than a mentioned person with a mold/fungus quirk. I did though, and already love him as an OC more than I should. Oops.

It might be a long while before the next chapter. I think I may have drained myself a bit from focusing on this story so much.

Warnings- swearing, slight coercion I think? Not really sure but better safe than sorry.

I promise the darker stuff is coming soon.

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I wake up to someone calling me. Hitoshi? Why is he calling me at… 9 in the morning? Come on dude, I want to sleep more for dinner tonight. My fault for hanging out with Tadao a bit later last night than usual. He’s started walking with me to our apartment for the past few days. I wonder why we haven’t hung out until now. Meanwhile, Ryo and I seemed to drift apart. They refuse to even look at me now when I saw them last night.

Ugh, might as well answer it. “Hey, Hitoshi. You need something?” I tiredly slur from just waking up.

“Sorry for waking you…” Apologized the familiar voice of Eri. Wait, Eri? Why does she have Hitoshi’s phone? The wonder why she has his phone wakes me up a bit more.

“Oh, hey, Eri. Is something wrong?” A slight panic enters me in the possibility something bad could have happened to one of the guys. “Wait, is everyone okay?”

“We’re good. Just wanted to talk a bit with you before tonight.” Pipes up the familiar voice of Hitoshi in the background.

Relief floods me. “That’s good. What about?”

“Our dads!” Eri cheerfully informs.

My eyes narrow in confusion. “What about them?”

“What do you think of them?” Hitoshi asks. Huh? Why does this need to be talked about now? Maybe because more likely than not the two adults are asleep, and won’t hear the conversation?

I’m too tired to be filtered right now, so whatever comes to mind is whatever is going to be said. “They’re… An interesting two, to say the least. Hizashi seems like someone I can rely on to cheer me up pretty easily if I’m ever down, and after that day Shouta was sick, I realize Shouta’s secretly a lot more caring than he lets on. Still wouldn’t want to pi- anger him.” Ugh, it’s too early. I nearly just swore with Eri there! Well, saying “piss him off” wouldn’t have been that bad, but she needs to keep that innocence at least for a while yet.

Hitoshi laughs, probably catching on with what I almost said. “Seen it first-hand with his class. Can’t say I recommend it either.”

“What about looks?” Eri suddenly asks, catching me off-guard. What do their looks have to do with anything? They’re also a married couple, so whatever I think is invalid anyways.

“Well, had this weird thought of wondering what Hizashi would look like with his hair fully down when we went to the festival, but that’s really not something that I need to tell him. It’s something I probably shouldn’t be wondering in the first place.”

“What’s the problem in wondering that? It’s just hair.”

“Says the one who always looks like he stuck his head out a car window and hair decided to stay that way.”

“Can’t argue with that.”

I go back onto the topic. “Otherwise, I’m not really sure what to talk about with them. It’s their choices of what they wear. Though it IS pretty funny imagining Hizashi forcing Shouta to wear something he normally wouldn’t.”

“It’s happened more than once before.”

I tiredly let out a laugh. “I believe it.”

“Daddy made him wear a dress!”

An almost inhuman sound comes out of me at the thought of Shouta deeply frowning with a strapless hot pink dress forced onto him, and the only reason he does it is Hizashi would probably keep pestering him otherwise.

“Maybe sometime we could get him to do it again with you here. It’s quite a thing to see.”

“Oh, really? How did he not kill you for laughing?”

“He almost did,” he replies jokingly.

“If he tries to attack me when I’m there, you’re taking the blow.” I joke back.

He goes silent for a moment. “He wouldn’t dare. If he did, he’d have an angry little girl scolding him.”

“Toooshiiii!”

“What? You know I’m right.”

“Hmph.”

“Anyway, want to tell them what you’ll wear?”

“No! It’s a surprise!”

“Right back at you two,” I inform the slightly bickering duo.

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We both hung up after a bit more of talking about tonight. I could swear there was someone talking in the background for a second, but I brushed it off as the T.V. Eri was probably watching something earlier and forgot to lower the volume.

After playing on my computer for a while since it’s close to my bed, I decided to just get up and get ready. There are not many fancy things I have, so it’s quite limited on what to wear. Hopefully, they don’t mind if it’s a bit more casual than fancy. There’s plenty of time to shop for something, but I’m honestly too lazy to go anywhere. Just something of my favorite color and slightly more fancy than my daily clothes should work.

I have to dig much deeper into my closet to find said clothing from not wearing it too often.

One of my favorite color is grabbed. Nope, that’s not it.

I move a few more. Wait, there it is! I move a few more pieces of clothing and grab it, pulling it out. Hopefully, it still fits. Welp, time to try. I take off my pajamas.

Like a glove. Perfect!

Just to make sure there are no new forgotten holes or something, I look at myself in my body mirror. Huh, I actually look pretty good in this! I might have to wear it more often. Something feels like it’s missing though. Maybe a ring or something would help?

I look over to the select few rings I have, including the forgotten one Ryo gave me. My heart slightly twinges at remembering they gave it as a best friends type of ring years ago. A ring with real blue topaz fitting my middle finger.

Might as well wear it. I slip it on and decide to leave my room, though they won’t be here for a while yet. Maybe Tadao will be around.

My body instinctively starts looking around for the familiar- oh, not again. Does he LIKE sleeping on the floor in the hall or something? I walk up to his sleeping form. I gently nudge him to move with my foot.

He groans, and curls his head deeper onto his arm, also bringing his legs up so he’s a ball. “Come on dude, I know your quirk is related to mold and all, but you’re not supposed to BECOME it.”

“I am one with the floor… I shall be the floor…” He mumbles, probably sleep talking.

I nudge him harder, making him open his eyes to look up at me. “Heyyy Y/N. What time is it?” He sluggishly asks.

I check my phone. “Already half-past noon.”

That got his attention. Both of his eyes snapped open as he shot to sit up. He grabs his rather cracked phone and looks at it. There are a few messages on the screen without him unlocking it. They’re impossible to read as he seems frantic after looking at them. “Already!? Man, I gotta get ready! I’ll be late for work!”

I don’t even get the chance to ask him anything since he gets to his feet and sprints off past my door, probably to his.

Glancing at Ryo’s door, the thought of checking on them arises. No, they’re deciding on acting out like this. Crawling to them could only continue this childish way again at some point. Ugh, what to do now though? It will be boring to just sit around for the next few hours. The park could be good for a few hours.

The villains around though? Nah. Welp, more computer time.

Familiar brown hair in the corner of my eye catches my attention before returning to my door. It’s the woman that glared at me with Hizashi at the studio. What’s she doing around here? Never saw her around before, and she doesn’t exactly strike me as the type to like parties. Funny if she’s attracted to Hizashi like he told me.

She keeps her glare on me as she… Knocks on Ryo’s door? Oh hell no. There’s no way Ryo is hanging out with someone like that. I’m proven wrong though as Ryo opens the door and pulls them in without looking at me.

I- What? What’s going on lately?

Also, okay, what the ever-loving fuck Ryo!?

Calm down, give them the benefit of the doubt. Maybe the woman hasn’t told Ryo anything about my work, and maybe it can just be a sudden meeting they did at one point, and it’s an opposites attract type of friendship. After all, I haven’t really been around. They were bound to try to find someone else to hang out with I suppose. Should this be a concern to bring up with Hizashi and Shouta though?

I stand there still staring at Ryo’s door and blink confusedly. They couldn’t have found anyone better to hang out with? Even a villain would have been better than her in my opinion. Sure, more trouble from me being around two- basically three- heroes could arise, but I’d be willing to keep that kind of secret for them. But this? This gives me a bad feeling.

What if she’s the reason Ryo is acting so odd?

Next Sunday will be the day to get some answers from them. If they will talk to me, that is.

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Time seems to slip by while being on my computer. My phone notifies me of a text message. I look at it to see it’s from Hizashi.

“Hitoshi’s coming in to get ya! We’re waiting!” My eyes widen noticing it’s already past six at night.

I try to text him ASAP to not let Hitoshi come in. They won’t be happy with my living place. “That will be fine, call him off. I’ll be out shortly.”

“Too late! Sorry!”

I sigh. He doesn’t even know which one mine is! I put my computer away and quickly left. Looking left and right, there’s familiar purple hair far down on the right. Obviously, it’s Hitoshi. He is staring with great disgust at the peeling walls and ripped-up flooring. Oh boy, it’s probably a disaster with what is about to happen in the vehicle now.

The hallway is rather dimly lit now, making it slightly hard to see, but it’s easy to tell he’s wearing a suit matching his eye color. I’m feeling pretty underdressed now.

“Hey, Hitoshi. You could have waited outside. Uh… You probably should have no offense.”

He glares at a piece of wall that falls off onto the floor. “How do you live in this?”

I shrug. “Eh, you get used to it,” I noticed his frustrated expression. He’s about to ask me why I don’t move or something since I clearly could with my pay. “And before you say anything, I rather like it here. It’s where a lot of my closest friends are.”

His eyes narrow at me. “You could still visit instead of living here.”

Someone jumps upstairs, making the place shake, and a piece of the ceiling on this level chips off and falls next to the wall piece on the floor.

“That’s new,” I comment. It’s true, the ceiling has never fallen before. Makes me wonder when this whole building is going to collapse. Bit worried for my friends here now.

Hitoshi looks at me like I just told him the world is going to end tomorrow.

I start walking to the exit, having Hitoshi follow behind me too closely for my taste. Makes sense if he’s doing it for my protection, but he obviously doesn’t know these people as I do. He almost could be felt against my back. “You mind standing back a bit? You’re rather close.”

He does, but just barely.

It doesn't take long for us to get to the vehicle. Just like before, I get in the center and hug Eri. The slight light in the car makes it hard to see her dress, but I'm pretty sure it's a bright silverish blue. The light wasn't on long enough to notice the two up front.

They do seem to notice Hitoshi in a slightly on edge type of way. For the moment the light was on.

"What's wrong, little hypno-man?"

"Their apartment is not fitting to live in."

"What?" Hizashi's tone almost drastically changes. I'm glad I can't see them right now. I focus on the scenery past Hitoshi to try ignoring the growing unease of him whistleblowing to them.

"It's falling apart. A part of the wall fell to the floor. The inside is much worse than the outside."

"Why are you still living there? You can easily move with the money we give you." Shouta pipes up.

"Because I like living there. It's a walking distance from your place, and all my friends are there."

"You could visit them some other time if you moved. We'd pay a bus for you if needed."

"Exactly! Or I could drive ya to our place! It wouldn't be a problem, and it would give me a little somethin' to do while the grump wakes up in the morning!"

I don't feel comfortable at the thought of having to rely on them like that. They're already so busy themselves, it really wouldn't be fair to them despite what they say.

“Uh… no. Thanks for the offer, but my place is good for now.”

The air is rather tense, telling me that they want to push more on the subject, but decide not to for now.

I decided to bring up what happened earlier. “Remember that bad woman from before?”

“You mean Chiyo?” Shouta spits her name with such hate, someone would think he’d murder her if he could. Hizashi must have told him about our meeting in his studio. Wait, Isn’t that a first name?

As if reading my mind, Hizashi answers for Shouta. “She doesn’t deserve the respect of last name. What about her?”

“I discovered today she might be hanging out with one of my closest friends that doesn’t seem to be too happy with me lately. Isn’t it a bit of a concern she might tell them that I babysit for you guys?”

“That’s confidential information. Like it was said to you before you started, you can’t tell anyone our identities. They can get into serious trouble if they do, and they signed a contract accepting they wouldn’t.” Shouta replies.

“That’s good to know.” I say, sounding relieved. They could be told how Ryo thinks they’re bad parents for me babysitting so often, but that’s something that probably doesn’t need to be brought up. Especially if she can’t tell Ryo about it.

Hizashi pulls up and parks in front of the restaurant we must be dining in. wait- fuck, I’ve heard of this place. It’s one of the most expensive restaurants around here! We exit and enter the restaurant. The first thing I noticed was how well-dressed the two men were. Shouta was wearing a navy blue suit, white undershirt, and a light brown tie. Oddly, he’s also wearing glasses. When did he need glasses?

Hizashi was wearing a cream-colored suit with a dark grey undershirt and a tie matching his eye color. Looking at the four of them and the others around, I am… severely underdressed. Doesn’t feel much better with everyone that stares at me from their tables for a moment.

Wait- Hizashi’s. Hair. Is. Fully. Down. I whip my head towards Hitoshi and glare in betrayal.

He notices with a smirk, and puts his hands in front of himself in mock-defense. “Don’t look at me. He was there then, just didn’t speak.”

My eyes narrow. “So it really WASN’T the T.V.” Seriously though!? That’s so embarrassing! He must have heard everything!

Him and Hizashi chuckle at me, making me feel worse.

A woman comes up from the counter. “Please tell me the name of your reservation.”

“The Aizawa’s.” Um… I’m not exactly a part of this family? Well, it does make sense though I guess just to do a last name. Hizashi smirks at Shouta while he glares in return.

“Right this way please.” She starts to lead the five of us to a table farther in the back. The enormous chandeliers overhead from the really tall ceiling are slightly intimidating if I’m to be honest. Each crystal is taller than Hizashi from the top of his hair in his hero costume to his feet.

The white and gold walls of the place give a surprisingly calming type of effect. It’s rather cool in here as well. Probably to help combat the ones who wear layers of clothes to be more fancy or something.

“You couldn’t have chosen anything else?” Shouta hisses quietly enough for the woman not to hear, but I’m close enough that I can. I’m right between them from behind while Hitoshi and Eri are behind me. I can swear Hitoshi keeps trying to nudge me forward closer to them.

“Aw, don’t worry ‘bout it babe! Besides, you and I both know you’re known much less than me! This way they won’t know us!” He leans even closer to Shouta. “And don’t deny it, you know you like the thought of me bein’ called an Aizawa~”

I can see red start to cover the side of Shouta’s face even though he tries his best to hide and prevent it. Ha! Now he’s the one to be embarrassed!

I let out a chuckle, making Hizashi turn and give me a toothy grin.

We get to a table with booth seats. The color of them is surprisingly similar to Eri’s dress.

I go to sit with Hitoshi and Eri, but like before, Hizashi grabs my wrist and has me sit between him and Shouta. Why do you keep doing this to me dude!? Shouta is on my right by the wall with Hizashi on my left by the opening.

Eri is sitting by the wall with Hitoshi by the opening in front of us. I didn’t notice before, but her dress has some candy apple red jewels the shape of diamonds, adorning the dress even more than it already was. Must be new since it’s never been seen by me before.

… I don’t like the closeness of the two men beside me again. Saying it is uncomfortable is an understatement. A difference than before is the heat of their thighs radiating through their pants onto mine.

The woman hands us menus. “Someone will be here to take your orders shortly.”

I try to brush them off while looking at the menu.

“Hey Y/N, are ya datin’ anyone?”

“Maybe.” They don’t need to know I’m not.

“That’s a yes or no question.” Shouta states with slight annoyance. He must have forgotten I told him I’m not the day he was sick.

“They better not be a villain. We’d hate to have to do something to you and them. Better be honest, you’re not looking the best right now.” Hitoshi accuses.

What the heck Hitoshi!? You’re just going to turn on me like this!? Why I ought to come over there and smack the back of your head myself!

My saving grace as the waiter comes- Tadao!? This is where he works!? He comes up to our table with a notepad in front of him. "Hello, I’m Ito, and I’ll be your waiter for tonight. What can I get you started with?”

“Tadao, you work here?”

His head snaps up from the notepad, and looks at me. “Oh hey, Y/N!” His face becomes a smirk. “What happened to calling me glowstick?”

“Well, you’re not really glowing right now in this light, are you?”

“Ha, you got me there.”

The three men look between us with some look I don’t really understand.

“Ya know each other?”

“You could say we’re close.” Tadao informs. They grow rather deep frowns at the news.

He clears his throat and brings his notepad up. “What drinks could I start you guys with?” We each tell him our drinks and he writes them down. “All right, drinks coming right up!” He leaves to go get them.

“He’s one of the reasons I don’t move out of my apartment. Especially now. We’ve become really close recently.”

“You should stay away from him. He seems like bad news.” Hitoshi informs.

??? huh? “Why, do you know he has a villain record or something?”

“He could be using you. Stay away from him or we might have to make sure he doesn’t do anything.”

Okay, THAT pisses me off. “First of all, you guys can’t tell me who I can and can’t hang out with outside of babysitting hours. Second of all, I’d really appreciate it if you guys could be less judging of him, because he has never done anything even slightly villainous whenever we met.” My slightly edged tone makes them back off the topic. I wanted to add third of all being he walks with me at night to our apartment place, but that seems like a bad idea if their reaction is this so far.

It grows awkwardly silent between us all for a moment. Maybe I should have kept the others to myself too, but damn it, they need to have more respect for my decisions they were never a part of, and have no need to be a part of.

Tadao comes with our drinks. He places them down, and Hizashi immediately takes a big drink of his.

“Here you guys go, and one drink for one special person.” He jokingly winks at me.

I roll my eyes in response. “Sometimes I truly wonder if I hate you.” I tease.

He rolls his eyes in return. “Admit it, you know you love me.”

Hizashi chokes on his drink. I don’t help him from still being a bit upset. He should be fine anyways after a bit.

He does, and is able to manage keeping his quirk down as well.

“Do I?” I question teasingly.

The three men glare at him. Sheesh, what’s their problem?

He seems rather uncomfortable by it and leaves in a rush immediately after taking our orders. After I almost had a heart attack from the beyond insane prices, of course. Even the cheapest thing is over half the money I’m given a day for babysitting.

I’m getting pretty upset with these guys right now. Starting to wonder if they got hit with some odd quirk again or something.

That calms me down a bit since it would kind of make sense that’s why they’re acting odd. How long will it last though? Better not be long. I don’t know if I can handle them like this without losing my mind.

“Hey, Y/N. We have something for you,” Hitoshi pipes up, and nods towards Hizashi.

“Right!” He reaches into one of his pockets and pulls out a… necklace? It has my favorite type of jewel in it, encased behind and around the edges with what looks like real gold. A different shine is on it, like something is covering the gold to prevent it from easily being destroyed by weather or wear. The shape is in a rather large teardrop. It looks custom-made as well. Never seen anything even close to what this looks like before.

“It’s a gift!” Eri cheerfully chimes in.

“That she helped us pick for you.” Shouta informs.

Please don’t tell me it’s authentic. It looks real though. I can’t even begin to imagine the price of what it must have cost to create it if it is real. “I’m sorry, but I can’t accept this! It feels too much like I’m just using you guys if I do!”

The three of them frown. Even Eri seems a bit disappointed.

Eri asking me my favorite jewel kind of makes sense now, but why would they want to give this to me?

“C’mon, let’s put it on ya!” He hands it over to Hitoshi and stands up, pulling me to stand up with him. Hitoshi stands as well.

“Did you guys not hear me? I- I can’t accept it!”

Hizashi shakes his head. “Don’t be so worried, dear little lovesong! We want you to have it! Ya can’t just say no, we spent too much for it to go to waste now!”

Hitoshi goes behind me with the necklace and is able to put it on while I’m still rather reluctant to accept such a gift.

Eri’s eyes almost seem to sparkle when the clasp gets shut on it. “You look amazing!”

I freeze in my tracks to notice everyone is staring at us yet again. This time with slightly different reactions. A couple of them seem to be with envy, making me want to shrivel up and hide in a hole, and others seem to be appreciative I have something more expensive than my clothes now or something.

At least Shouta seems to give me mercy by pulling me back down in the booth and glaring at them all in such a way that they all stop staring. I’m feeling a bit like a ragdoll at this point.

Hitoshi joins him, making sure they truly stop. The glare combined of those two could probably curdle the blood of All Might himself.

The restaurant seems to grow quiet between all of us.

I decide to escape by using the bathroom. Hizashi didn’t have time to sit back down before it was necessary. “Stay here, it won’t take me long.” They still seem reluctant to let me go alone.

Getting to the bathrooms, I didn’t have to go, just wanted to get out of the stares and whispers for a little bit. Despite the men’s glares, of course there was still going to be gossip of someone in here who looks so out of place.

“Hey, Y/N, be careful around them, alright? They’re pretty strange.” Pipes up the familiar voice of Tadao behind me.

I play dumb. He probably shouldn’t know I know they must have been hit with some kind of quirk. “How do you know? They could just be being cautious since their children are with.”

“I admit, I did watch you a bit at the festival. More so the men you were with when they came. Something about them isn’t... “ He seems to be struggling with figuring out how to explain it. “It’s wrong. I just can’t quite put my finger on what it is. Again, just be careful, alright?”

I just nod and enter the bathroom.

A bit after cooling off, I go back to the dinner table, them all still waiting and chatting about school. Well, Shouta being nearly silent as usual. Hizashi quickly stands up to let me sit between them again. Ugh, I really don’t want to.

Yet I do, just to be kind. The least I can do is sit through this since they went through the effort of such a gift, even though to me it seems highly unnecessary.

Tadao comes with our food not much later with a secret frown on his face. He’s smiling, but I’ve learned him well enough by now it’s worry he has instead of a cheerful personality. It slightly drops to reveal his true emotions when he notices the guys glaring at him yet again. He doesn’t say a word, just drops all of the food off and leaves.

This feels like a really ruined dinner, even though this food is incredibly good. The atmosphere has definitely become shit. I seem to be the only one to notice. Hizashi looks over towards me and gives me another grin, not giving much comfort. What’s worse is every time I stop for a moment and rest my hand on my lap, Shouta seems to try to grab it. It led me to just keeping the utensil for my dinner in my hand.

I’ll have to apologize to Tadao for their behavior tomorrow. Easier said than done since I still can’t exactly tell him who they are. Cursed contract.

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taglist-

@dabi-s-whore, @angelicblackwolf, @fuegy-fuegy

Double fun fact- Did you know slapping someone’s back if they’re choking is actually worse than letting them try to get it out themselves, especially if it’s food? The food can actually get lodged deeper in their throat at the impact. Huh, First Aid is quite interesting.

#Yandere EraserMic household #x reader #yanderes x reader #platonic yandere shinsou x reader #yandere erasermic x reader #yandere shouta aizawa #yandere hizashi yamada #yandere eraserhead #yandere present mic #welcome to the family #yandere poly x reader

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jay-and-dean · 4 years ago

Text

Don’t look down, Baby Part 1/3

Dean x reader

Summary : Dean told her to ignore the “thing” between them and to jump in any guy’s arms. Any of them but him.

When we think of a guy our Y/n could be with, longing for Dean, it’s usually a nice dude, a little boring, right ? Because who can compete with Dean ? Now, what if this guy was as badass as Dean ?

Characters : Dean Winchesters, Sam Winchester, Reader, Abraham Hale (OC)

Warnings : Angst, jealous Dean, Smut (unprotected sex -you’re smarter than this !-, oral, also kinda lame sex if it’s a warning), cheating, swearing, smoking, drinking... More warnings in the second part.

Wordcount : 6k (yes, just the part one... now you get why I cut it.)

Note : So for the Aestetic, I used the face of Jax Teller from Sons Of Anarchy, and you have to know, even if Abraham Hale looks like him, he is totally an OC.

This is writen both in Reader and Dean’s Pov. Dean’s thought are in italic.

Text divider by the talented @talesmaniac89

Jay’s Masterlist

September 16, 10:33pm

Dean’s POV

I always thought that when Y/n finds a guy, it would be the perfect douche I wanted for her. Some nice dude named Robert, a cop maybe, or a realtor with a friendly family.

He would annoy me to death with his stories about growing up in a farm, and call her Pumpkin. He would worry a little when she goes out with us because he thinks we drink too much when we’re together.

He would tear her from me and I would hate him for that. She would skip a hunt to meet his parents, another to spend a few days in the cabin he rented… But even if it breaks my heart, it would be exactly what I want for her, so I would let her go.

I had it all planned.

But, of course, she didn’t play by the rules.

And that guy is no Robert…

His loud manly laugh tears me from my thoughts. His tattooed hand wraps around his whiskey glass and I turn my head to that waitress that always gives me warm smiles, she’s staring at him now, with the sweetness that was once for me.

Abe.

Ex-gang member, Abe. Bad guy turned good. Raised by the widow of a gang member, in a violent environment, he already had a criminal record at fourteen, started selling guns before he was officially allowed to drink, ended up in prison at Twenty-two.

Sweet smile Abe. Reformed bad boy with an attitude. Became a hunter after he met a vampire gang and slew them to the last. Now defender of the good citizen, he found his fight, and the hunters talk about him as one of the bests.

Afraid of nothing and ready to fight, charismatic, alpha Abe. His muscular arm in the back of my girl, his long blond hair falling on his face when he lights up a cigarette in a grunt of content while she touches his neck.

Abe. My new nemesis.

“So Dean” he says with his deep voice hoarse from smoking too much. “How did you meet my girl ?”

I met her on a hunt, invited her to my room and took her on that wall. Do you remember, Y/n ? Don’t look down baby, look at me.

“On a hunt.”

“That’s how I met her too” he smiles and kisses her temple. “Seems like we have a lot in common.”

“Looks like we do” I state.

Her eyes darken and she turns her head, I know how to read her, she is pissed, and I don’t even know why. I did nothing, I said nothing, and her rock-and-roll version of prince charming is worshiping her, so what causes that bitterness ?

What is it, baby ? Am I missing something ?

“So I heard your brother and you have this fucking palace ?” he gives me a corner smile, smoke coming out of his nose.

“Who told you that ?” I grunt.

What is the point of a secret bunker if it is as secret as a freaking tweet ?

He chuckles and takes a sip of his whiskey, not answering.

Abe never answers all the questions he is asked, maybe it is some cool thing for guys like him, maybe it is his way of look mysterious or powerful. What is sure is, as annoying as it is, it freaking works. But each time he smirks with his eyes lost in the bottom of his glass in a little huff instead of speaking, I get closer to losing it and smashing his pretty face on the table.

“I told him” she says almost coldly. “Like you did all your friends, Abe is my boyfriend, Dean.”

I nod. What can I say, she’s right after all. She’s always right…

She was right about that cop being the bad guy the first time we hunted together, right about the fact that my so-called bond with Amara would fade the second she gets whatever she wanted. She was right about Jack being a good kid but dangerous enough to need to be watched and educated instead of pushed away. Right about Mary hurting me more than I admitted…

She was right when she said I was wrong. The day I told her we shouldn’t sleep together again, that she should just ignore that thing between us and jump in any guy’s arms. Any of them but me…

I really say that : any of them. I did.

Did you choose Abe just to annoy me, baby ? To prove a point ? You had to bring a guy who would beat me at my own grumpy-loner-badass-crap-drink-too-much game, right ?

“That place sounds sure awesome, because Y/n keeps coming back to it” he states, not letting me know the true meaning he puts in that sentence, his piercing blue eyes free of any emotions on the surface.

“Well it’s home for her” I say, and that bastard chuckles. “Is it funny ?”

“Not at all !” he says with a warm and kind laugh, and a friendly tap on my shoulder. “You should relax Dean, you look like the bar is full of demons !”

I stay stern, I know I should probably look friendly, but I rarely hated someone nice that much.

He gets up and kisses her head before he walks away, his manly way to move catching women’s attention, and some men’s too. One of his hand goes through his blond hair while he walks to the bathroom with the other hand deep in his jeans’ pocket.

“So… Abe, huh ?” I ask, the second he’s gone.

I should be more coherent, I know. I want her gone, but I want her for me. I was sure I was ready to see her with someone else, it’s been three years. Three years ! After we only made love six times. She is not mine, she never was.

And I thought calling her Baby in my head would make me strong. It’s a weird feeling, like I could let her be happy, but still feel special. I would have been the passion of her youth, the one that died young and of which she would think a little when she rocks her baby in her pretty house…

I had somehow romanticized my heartbreak.

But that doesn’t feel romantic at all. And all I can think of is that he is passion too, I’m not dead, and I just have to see him touch her and imagine them at night…

“Yes” she says, still with that bitterness in her voice. “You could make an effort, Dean. He has been nothing but nice, and you act like he’s an enemy.”

“I haven’t decided if he is one yet.”

She rolls her eyes and shakes her head in disapproval.

I recognize hurt. My Y/n, when she’s hurt, she gets angry. Always. And I made her angry so often. Her irritation is growing, I can see it in her burning eyes.

“You can’t do that” she says low. “You can’t treat him like that, no one gives you the right.”

“And him ?” I dare asking, staring at her reddened face. “Does he treat you right ?”

Her eyes fills with tears again and her jaw clenches.

“Better than you did, you mean ?” her words feel like a stab in my heart.

Reader’s POV

I didn’t want to say that, it came out by itself.

I’m thin-skinned lately. I feel like I could cry or scream any moment, all the time. My emotions have always been loud, my sensibility overwhelming, but for a few weeks I’m drowning.

The fact that I decided to try to get over Dean Winchester probably caused that.

A long time ago, I thought living with Dean without ever having him would be the worst, then I saw him with other women and was convinced I was mistaking before : the worst was definitely that. How wrong was I ?

The worst is having had him. Not once, but several times, each time a little more intimate. More kisses, more touches, more suspended seconds watching in each other’s eyes… Until we spent that night together, that last night, and he fell asleep against me for the first time.

It was over. It was too much for Dean, and not enough for me.

Dean Winchester can’t belong to anyone, not again. He doesn’t want to be a boyfriend, and he doesn’t want me to be his girl ; who am I to insist ?

“Well, that’s a minimum” he answers in a soft groan after a little while, and my heart breaks because I just did what I swore I would never do : Reproach him for any of it.

“I’m sorry” I sigh, thinking of those weeks after the last night, when I had to hide the worst pain I ever felt because I didn’t want him to feel bad about not wanting me.

I still do... -feel that pain and try to hide- because Abe or not, I still live with Dean and he doesn’t deserve to carry my pain on top of the world on his shoulders.

“Can you at least try ?” I beg, low, seeing my boyfriend getting out of the restroom but stopping next to the door to talk to someone he obviously knows.

“Yes” Dean answers. “I’m just… He’s a hunter and…”

“He’s a good man” I assure him, looking at Abe walking toward us above Dean’s shoulder. “He comes from a dark place, like us, but he is a good man.”

September 21, 08:12pm

“That place is crazy !” Abe says, sitting at the table of the library. “I have never seen anything like this.”

While Sam tells him a little more about the bunker, I look at my boyfriend.

I stare at him, trying to get rid of that uncomfortable impression, that feeling screaming that he doesn’t belong here ; because if he doesn’t belong in the bunker, then he probably just has nothing to do in my life.

A lot of memories cross my mind, like it happens a lot lately.

The memory of entering the bunker for the first time and deeply knowing that, as long as I am welcome here, this would be my home. Because it just feels right and because, even if I’m not the granddaughter of Henri Winchester, he trusted me with this place, as much as he trusted his family. That man actually welcomed me like Mary never really did, like I was just as legit as blood.

At his frank smile, the memory of meeting Abe crosses me too. I was alone in this hunter bar, trying to get information for a case. I hadn’t told Sam and Dean that I would go there, because I know how much uncomfortable the hunter community makes them. And I was introduced to him : Abraham Hale. I found him so beautiful, with his mischievous smile that seemed to mock the entire world, his wheat blond hair and his tattoos. Something felt so safe about him, not because he looked like a bad boy, but because he was light and happy, laughing at everything and taking nothing seriously… All that Dean wasn’t.

I loved his wild energy right away. Abe was like the drums in a rock song, like summer wind. In his arms, I forgot about Dean for a few seconds a day during the first weeks. We spent days sleeping and having sex behind the curtains of that motel room, hiding from summer heat, and nights drinking and listen to rock music...

But now I look at him, his bright blue eyes seem pale next to the deep green looking back, and his beauty is bland.

“Thank you for showing me your home, Treasure” he says, putting a tender hand on my back like he always does.

And my eyes cross Dean’s.

I know what he’s thinking, he’s cringing at the nickname, and that reminds me why I am with Abe : Dean never gave me a nickname, he never called me anything else than my name, he will never and even when others do, he thinks it’s lame and cheesy.

Dean’s POV

That hurt on her face again.

Baby, you can’t look at me like that each time he calls you Treasure . I don’t like it, but you’re supposed to do.

This is much harder than I thought, and I was aware it would be impossible.

Each and every one of his actions makes me face my own contradictions : The more loving he is, the more I want to push him away from her. But the more she seems distant and to have her head in the clouds, the more it eases the pain. Am I selfish enough to hate her happiness even though I love her ?

I was in control, during those three years not touching her, my heart was aching with craving and my soul was screaming at me to make her love me. But as much as the heartbreak was constant, I had chosen it. I was in control.

I never realize that it was only bearable because she was still here, my partner, my best friend, my roommate. Mine.

Now she took it back. She raised her middle finger right in my face and decided she wouldn’t be mine anymore.

And that is a whole new level of pain.

I don’t sleep when she’s not home, and sometimes food just won’t let me eat it. She texts during our movie nights and wears that pendant he gave her. I hate that pendant because it reminds me I never gave her a present. Not once in all those years.

“Another drink ?” Y/n asks him with the bottle in her hand.

“Don’t you drive ?” I cut him before he answers and I see her eyes shoot me with imaginary bullets.

I’m sorry Baby but it’s movie night tonight, can’t he just leave already ?

“He’s right” she says giving me a little hope that she will ask him to leave soon. “You should stay for the night.”

My breathing gets stuck in my lungs.

No Baby, don’t do that to me. Please.

“With pleasure !” he smiles.

September 21, 11:49pm

Reader’s Pov

He grabs my thigh to lift it a little and grunt in my ear. His kisses are hot on my neck, his heavy body moving cautiously on top of me.

My eyes are on the ceiling, my hands on his sweaty muscular back and I wait.

Damn, what is happening ? He’s close, I am going to fake it ? I swore I would never fake, I swore if the guy can’t get me there, he should know, but… Abe is not the problem, I am.

I just watch the ceiling wondering what is wrong with me. He did everything right, nice foreplays and those love words he always has for me. But nothing seems to turn me on anymore, and without the need and the pleasure, his thrusts are just uncomfortable and I feel weird.

Come already.

I sigh. I know what is making this impossible. Dean. This fucker is the last I had in my own bed, the only one in fact. And everything reminds me that Abe is not Dean fucking Winchester !

“You okay Treasure ?” he pants in my ear, nibbling at it.

I’m not a freaking snack, what is it with his mouth and teeth always ?

“Yes” I fake a moan. “I’m close Abe, come.”

Just don’t be loud, that would be so awkward.

When he loses rhythm, I close my eyes at the relief, it won’t be long now, make it stop. He shakes a little and grunt loud, filling the condom inside of me ; and, to make my fake moans credible, I clench my walls around him one time or two, rolling my eyes at his proud groan.

Sex with Abe used to be so much more than this. I'm getting frustrated. Did I break something in me ? Why can't I enjoy anything anymore ?

He rolls on my side, panting, and smiles tenderly at me. He’s beautiful, I have to admit that, and he’s nice and loving.

“You’re amazing” he hums. “I guess I can’t smoke in your bedroom ?”

“I don’t mind” I answer sincerely. “The air co is magical, just, don’t smoke more than one.”

He sits on the bed to get his pants, his beautiful tattooed back on me. The smoke flies in pretty wreath. I put my hand on the lion tattooed on his back. It suits him, with his solar attitude and his confidence, his beautiful blond hair…

Yet I keep longing for my wolf.

Dean’s Pov

Now I know I could kill him. And now I know what the limit amount of pain I can take is.

I pace my room like a crazy man. He is taking her, my Baby. He is sinking inside of her and stealing pleasure. Does she wrap her legs around him like she always did with me ? To push me deeper. Is she as responsive ? As lost in pleasure as she was ? With that way only she has too beg for more with her entire body, voice strangled and arms caging me the best she can…

Is she…

“F-fuck…” I whine, holding my heart.

I think I just felt it break.

Baby…

Breathing is painful now, I feel like I’m drowning.

Baby… Why did you have to do that to me ? I know I hurt you but your revenge is unbearable.

I sit on my bed, still holding my chest.

I can’t take it, you know.

“Shit” I grunt.

How can this kind of familiar panic attack be back ? How can this hurt so much ? It’s not Hell, it’s not Purgatory…

“It is Hell” I say out loud.

Loosing you, Baby. It’s Hell. Do you love him ? Because…

“Fuck, I love her” I whine.

September 28, 06:05pm

Sitting in my “Fortress of Deanitude”, I wait. The tray with snacks is there, beers too, and Netflix is ready for our next episode of Stanger Things.

But there is a big chance she won’t come. Our movie nights are getting rarer and rarer, like our time together in general. And this place is slowly becoming a Fortress of Solitude…

You never know how much you need something until you lost it, right ? I was stupid enough to think I could be stronger than the need for her and now look at me, alone in that big empty room in a bigger emptier bunker.

All I can think of is how much each day pulls her closer to him and further from me. They are building memories in which I’m not, they are building an intimacy that I lost three years ago. She will forget me and he will have her, maybe even make her change a little, until one day she is among those people who talk about their personal tastes by saying “we”. “We prefer red wine”.

Ew.

Is he going to change my girl, for real ? Make her love Led Zeppelin a little less, make her a little less her, make her want other things, another life, need me less ? Our things will become unimportant and be replaced by all kind of other things I have no idea about.

I take a long sip of my glass. It’s not like I had my word to say anyway. I lost her. I lost her in the worst way possible : willingly.

But just when I’m about to get up and go put the snacks away, she opens the door, panting a little, like she had ran.

“Dean” she says entering the room. “I’m sorry. There was an accident on the road and the traffic was disturbed.”

You were at his place, Baby, and you ran to me ?

A little smile lights up my face when her presence revive my heart.

“It’s okay” I say.

“I’m late, but I have…” she takes her hand out of her purse. “Giant skittles !”

“You found them ?” I smile, sitting straighter when she hands me a bag.

Our things are not all gone. And she still cares about me and about our time together.

“Yup ! I made Abe stop in every shop yesterday.”

So you think of me when you’re with him, Baby ? Have you ever thought of me while he was inside of you ?

“Sit” I pat the armchair next to mine. “Let’s find out if Dusty’s girlfriend exists !”

“I really hope !” she exclaims, taking off her jacket.

I try not to look at her, but when she quickly takes off her jeans to slip in her pajamas pants, I swallow hard. Those thighs could have been for me, and I could have watched the show while holding her.

She sits with her knees up against her chest in the big chair next to me, and takes a beer. My eyes are glued to her, looking for anything unusual, and fearing it more than anything in the same time.

“What ?” she calls me out of my thoughts.

“Nothing, I…” have no idea how to finish this sentence.

“I’m still okay you know ?” she says without looking at me, playing with the label of her beer bottle. “You always stare at me like something had happened to me. I know what you think of Abraham, but he doesn’t treat me bad.”

Reader’s Pov

“I’m sorry” he sighs. “You know how protective I can get. Especially with you…”

A chuckle escapes me and I know he doesn’t like it, but protective with me ? He broke my heart. He ripped it and threw it on the floor because I had said those words.

“Yeah…” I nod, nibbling at my lip. “You won’t find bruises on me.”

He doesn’t answer.

When did we become like this ?

After a silence, he hands me candies and presses play. But, chewing on sugar and my eyes on the screen, I keep my full attention on him.

I have everything any girl would want : A lover with hot blood, beauty and a heart of gold. But I'm not any girl, and the only thing I want is Dean Winchester. The genius who thinks he's dumb, the scared little boy who lost his mom, the leader, the victim of his fate, the killer, the loyal friend, the rebel, the torturer, the perfect brother, the wary hunter, the crappy dancer ; grumpy Dean, childish Dean, stubborn Dean, all of Dean...

I look at him and my eyes travel down his neck, his beard is fighting to grow back there but I know he won't let it. The slow movements of his chest are mesmerizing. My eyes go down, to his thighs and crotch...

I really shouldn't let myself look there but his smell and aura are like a mermaid song and I'm drowning. His strength is radiating of him and I feel myself respond to it in everyone of my heartbeats.

He could make me scream. He always did, so easily. Dean made me cry of pleasure more than once, sometimes without any effort, the brushes of his fingers, the burning of his kisses... And when he finally buried himself inside of me, it was like a firework in Heaven. He never had to do anything really special...

And now I wonder : Is something broken about me ? Abe is passionate and loving, we used to work great, he was easy as whiskey. And he loves me. Why am I unable to enjoy any of it lately ?

My eyes trace the bump in Dean’s pants and I remember the simple ecstasy of feeling his cock twitch for me. Dean... I bite my lip to hold back the moan hanging on my tongue. His thigh moves a little, strong muscles hidden in his jeans, and I think of his stomach contracting that time he came on my tongue. I…

“I see you” his deep serious voice hits the air like thunder.

I look up to meet his eyes and realize I have been staring at his crotch, licking my lips and probably visibly holding back moans.

“Do you need something ?” he asks with a proud aura on his face.

I want to punch that expression off of his perfect features.

I look down and sigh. Yes, I do. I need him, not only want like I would like to think, but need indeed. I need him to feel my body, to make it alive, and to hear my soul breathe again.

“Dean…” I just say.

Like it was an answer or reproach but of course, he hears it for what it is.

A call.

So he gets up, suddenly so tall that he eclipses the TV, the light and my will. He comes in front of me, standing there, making me look up timidly through my lashes. His strong hand lands cautiously on my cheek, gently holding my face while I lean on his touch.

I can resist him. I can.

I think of Abe's sweet smile, of his deep voice and his arms around me. I think of this night he told me about jail and I tried all I could to make him feel safe again, that was a beautiful moment... We are something beautiful Abe and me. We are going to make it right, to make it count. Right ?

As my heart fights itself, playing all the love songs I know at once in my head in a deafening dim of emotions, my eyes fill with tears. I know what is going to happen, and the cruel god writing my story can stop there, the end is already obvious.

I can't resist Dean. I just can't.

And Abe will cry, right ? He trusts me. He will take his bag and yell maybe, the sun inside of him will get clouded, he will drive away. Then I will let my body slide on the door frame, unable to hold my weight up, because I will have broken the only man that ever truly loved me.

I look down to hide the pain from Dean, but he knows me better.

"I can leave" he says.

But it's the last thing I want because I miss him, I miss him like a part of me died years ago and I still feel empty and cold... I miss him when I'm alone, and even more when I'm not.

When he's about to move, take a step back to leave me alone, I grab his belt and hold him in place firmly. I have no plan, no solid thought, but I know I can't be away from him for now. He smells both like the most familiar home and the wildest dream.

My other hand grazes the fabric of his jeans on his thigh, I close my eyes for a second and a little whimper escapes me. I started touching Dean less than a day after meeting him, and it seems I can't be around him without having my hands on his body.

He hums, staring down at me, bow legs slightly parted like he needed balance, like he was gripping the floor for both of us. Dean had always been my anchor. His shoulders look wider from down here and I want nothing more than letting my hands grab his butt to rub my cheek on his crotch like a cat marking its territory.

"Touch me like you need it, Baby" he murmurs and a little sob escapes me unexpectedly.

He never ever called me Baby.

He never gave me any nickname like he never gave me the place I thought I could take in his heart. And Abe, he calls me Treasure. He welcomed me in his heart...

"What's wrong ?" Dean asks like he didn't know.

Dean Winchester is the world's greatest hero, saved basically everyone's life without any reward, and for this he is a saint ; and still, he's the one that is going to be the end of me. Hero or not, he's my villain.

"Everything is wrong, Dean" I answer in a broken voice. "Everything."

He squats in front of me and my hand panics at losing my grip on his belt so it grasps his flannel like my life depends on it.

"Not everything" he whispers, bending to let his poisonous lips graze my skin.

My treacherous mouth opens in reflex at the proximity of his, making him respond by biting my lower lip. I whimper again and pull him closer.

"I got you" he states, letting his burning lips trace down my chin and my neck followed by his thumb, scratching my skin with his short nail. And I catch fire.

I let my head falls back and I surrender totally.

That's how bad he is for me : I could let him break my heart again without an hesitation, after it took me years to recover just enough to just function. And oh, I will. I will shatter the heart of the man that trusts me just to let Dean selfishly remind me how much I love him.

His breath is burning my skin, spreading in the fabric of my t-shirt when he buries his face on my chest, opening his mouth wide to pretend to bite my breast, hand cupping my sides like he had missed me for real. I let go of the plaid fabric to grip the short strand of his hair like I can.

"Dean..." the moan I have been holding comes out, filling the room with sin and the echo of future lies.

"I got you" he repeats.

His hungry hands seize my jeans and tear it open, fighting the metallic button's resistance brutally. The fabric hurts my lower back in a last resistance but is ripped off of me the second after, taking my panties in its way.

And before I can sit straighter now that I'm on the edge of the chair, before I can talk, think or breath. Dean's anaconda arms grab my thighs firmly and his burning breath is on my folds.

"Wh-" I start but what can I say now.

He kisses my folds like no men ever did : like he was in love with that part of me. An open mouth kiss, tongue eagerly lapping my juice from my entrance to my clit.

"AH !" I scream, arching my back but Dean doesn't take a second to breathe, burying his face on me.

I squirm, licking my lips like I was kissing him back but the place he is devouring can only respond with throbs and getting soaked, which is does.

I'm panting, I'm being eaten by the flames of that indescribable pleasure that is back. My stomach is shaking, my temples are beating so loud. I suck a breath when he sucks at my clit, moist hand gripping the leather of the chair.

"Dean" I moan again in the subdued light of the warm room.

He answers with a hum, and his nimble tongue pushes at my entrance, making my thighs shake violently in the vise grip of his arms.

I can't escape what Dean does to me so I let go.

My whole body falls backward when I come, harder than I have in years, holding his hair so tight it might hurt him, legs shaken by electricity, back arching and chest fighting itself to breath. My sensible clit seems to have nerves in my whole body and I fall silent, covered in sweat, suffocated by a forbidden crushing orgasm.

I whimper desperately, limp and lost, panting in the chair like I didn't realize yet what just hit me. But Dean knows what he's doing, he knows where this goes.

He opens his jeans, I can feel it even though I don't see him, my head still back, moaning at the caresses of his tongue on my neck. I bite my lip hard, hand moving from the arm of the chair to his, to feel his eagerness.

And he grabs my thighs harshly, making me fall on the floor with him and holds my back when I can't, keeping me against him.

"So wrong..." I whisper in a dying echo of my disgrace.

His hand grasps my face firmly and makes me look at him. His eyes have this fire in them, he clenches his jaw when I roll my lips a little, wetting his craved cock on me, dying of being finally filled by him.

"Keep your eyes on me" he groans, grabbing his length to guide it at my throbbing entrance.

"Dean..." I moan, fingers reaching his stomach under his clothes to feel it tremble.

"Eyes on me baby" he repeats low.

Dean's Pov

She can't think of him. Not now. I need her with me, I need her for me.

Feel me, baby.

I smile slightly when she dives her unfocused pupils in my eyes. She's perfect and I love her ; but I must say when she seems to surrender so completely to my touch, that's when forgot why I asked her to stay away.

When I enter her, her phone lights up once again in her back, on the floor. I groan loud as she wraps me like only she can, like she was trying to suck me inside her core. She's shaking, she's fighting to keep her eyes on me and I'm fighting that urge to grab her phone and shatter it in a million pieces against the wall.

She gasps, her body threatening to fall back so I hold her.

That's it baby, stay with me, feel me, let me take you like I used to when you were mine.

My hand fists her hair and my mouth gets attracted to her pulse point so I bend to suck at it, barely thrusting for now, just enjoying to be inside of her, feeling her pulsating with desire, the concrete hard floor digging in my knees.

Her arms wrap around me, she cling to me and I try to ignore my jealousy shouting at me.

Baby, you try to ignore me but can he do that to you ? Can he turn you into a purring cat like that ?

"Dean" she moans, clenching around me, her thighs trying to get herself even closer so she takes me impossibly deeper.

"Say you want me" I murmur against her skin in a voice I barely recognize.

"I want you" she gives in, exhaling in my ear.

Behind her, her phone lights up one more time with a text : "I found us a case in California, Treasure."

=> PART 2

FEEDBACK IS GOLD

Tags : @parinarain @mogaruke @masterof-agony @rainflowermoon @tftumblin @deans-baby-momma @roonyxx @thefaithfulwriter @vicariouslythruspn @emeow1496 @daryldixonandfrogs @holylulusworld @cocklesbelli @sandlee44 @screenchingartisancashbailiff @donnaintx @stormchasingchick32 @akshi8278 @magssteenkamp @sister-winchesters99 @neii3n @lyss-dw79 @im-a-shrub @sadwaywardkid@hopelesslydevotedtoyou1912 @slyqueenj @i-love-superhero @waywardsisterandpie @sunsetsandbooks @mrspeacem1nusone @stylesismyhubs @deanwanddamons @jawritter @peridottea91 @chelsea072498 @chocolateheart @vicmc624 @teresa-67 @jessie-michael @doctor-hp-mcu @hawkerz12 @mariaenchanted @hobby27

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flourgirl · 4 years ago

Text

Sleepyhead

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: Peter will try just about anything to help out the very pretty insomniac from his math class.

Work Count: 11.2k

Warnings: Just some sweet, pure fluff with a few curse words every now and then.

A/N: Either the tags aren’t working for me or you guys just didn’t like it, but the final part of “Even If It’s a Lie” has been out for a few days now if anyone’s interested in reading it 🥺 Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this super long piece I’ve been working on to help me get through finals <3

“Touch you softly I call you up late at night No doubt it isn't right But you could be my one and only” -Softly, Clairo

Peter had seen you around campus a few times, but it wasn’t until you started sitting two rows ahead of him in his linear algebra class that he really started to notice you.

He thought you were really pretty, and he liked how cozy you always looked in the puffy winter coat you kept on in the perpetually freezing lecture hall. You took a lot of notes, which told him that you cared about the class, and never showed up without a giant cup of iced coffee.

You’re being a creep, Peter told himself. He had thought about switching seats to somewhere in front of you, so he could actually listen to his professor discuss permutations instead of staring at how you chewed on the end of your pen when you were thinking.

It was even worse when you started sleeping in class, your soft hair falling around your shoulders as you leaned your head against your desk. It seemed like all the coffee in the world couldn’t keep you awake, and Peter wondered if he should ask if you wanted to borrow his notes or something. But that would mean him admitting to looking at you way more than he needed to, and that was weird, so he quickly dropped the idea.

Still, he was worried about you. So when he came back from patrol in the middle of the night and bumped into you outside of the dorm kitchen, he figured it would be the perfect opportunity to introduce himself and maybe even find out why you were so tired all the time.

The only problem was that he had accidentally knocked your pan of banana bread out of your hands, and you were currently staring at it laying on the floor with your sleepy eyes, not saying anything.

“Shit, uh, I’m so sorry,” he told you, crouching down to scoop up the remnants of your late-night snack into the pan. “Were you really up baking at 3 a.m?”

You blushed a little, starstruck that the cute guy from your math class was talking to you. “Um, yeah. I couldn’t sleep, so I figured I’d come down to the kitchen while nobody else was here and make something. Baking always helps me calm down, and so here I am. And here we are. And there’s my bread, all covered in whatever kind of dust the custodians refuse to sweep down here.”

He offered a soft smile, and it made you feel better about the fact that you were rambling way more than you wanted to.

“I’m Y/N,” you continued, gently taking the pan from his hands. “You’re in linear algebra with Professor Meyers, right?”

“Yeah, you, um, you sit right in front of me. Well, not right in front of me. Two rows in front of me. Shit. I’m not creepy, I promise. It’s just… uh… My name is Peter and I’m going to stop talking now.”

That couldn’t have possibly gone any worse, he thought. You were probably thinking he was a serial killer or something.

“It’s okay. I know you sit behind me,” you reassured him. “You answer a lot of questions.” He was cute and smart, and you hoped he couldn’t notice how flustered you were to be this close to him.

“What are you doing up so late?” he asked, which made you laugh at how ironic his concerns were, considering he was also wandering around the dorm basement at this hour.

“I could ask you the same thing,” you replied, sitting on one of the benches that jutted out of the walls of the corridor. “I mean, you’re here too. At least I was baking. What’s up with you?”

You had a point. “I had an emergency… with my internship. I work for Stark Industries, and Mr. Stark rang me in the middle of the night to come to the lab immediately for something, so, yeah. That’s why I’m awake right now.”

“Okay,” you said, not buying his story. “So that’s why you have a black eye and you’re lurking in the basement hallway? Did Tony Stark punch you?”

Fuck. Did he really have a black eye and not notice? He didn’t think that Doc Oc’s stupid mechanical arm had punched him that hard, but apparently, he was wrong. And now he had to come up with some reason as to where it came from, although he could already tell that you were about to call his bluff.

The only solution he could think of was to change the subject. “Why are you always asleep during class?” he blurted out, causing you to give him a funny look before frowning down at your slippers.

“Isn’t it obvious,” you yawned, stretching your arms out in front of you. “I’m an insomniac. It’s actually kind of funny. I never really had any problems with falling asleep until I moved here. Maybe it’s the cold weather or the constant pressure to get good grades, but I just can’t sleep anymore. It sucks.”

Normally, you’d never tell this much about yourself to somebody, let alone a complete stranger. But somehow, you felt really comfortable around Peter. There was just something about him that made you feel warm and fuzzy inside.

Peter caught himself staring at you again, your baby pink pajamas a far departure from how put together your usual outfits were. Even without your makeup or hair done, you were still the prettiest girl he had ever seen. For some reason, even the dark circles under your eyes were really cute to him.

“You never answered my question,” you reminded him, hoping that he’d say something to fill the awkward silence. “What’s with the black eye and wandering around in the middle of the night? Are you some kind of superhero?”

“What? No! That’s crazy. Me, a superhero,” he laughed awkwardly, wondering if you had somehow figured out his secret identity. Had you spotted him that one time he made sure that you and your friends got home safely from a late-night study session? Even so, you totally couldn’t have known it was him, right?

“Relax, I’m just joking,” you giggled, thinking about how cute he looked when he was flustered. “Although my friend did tell me she thought she saw Spider-Man a few weeks ago on her way back from a party.”

“Haha, yeah,” he breathed out, a wave of relief washing over him. It was times like these that he really started to appreciate how well-hidden his muscles were underneath all of his oversized sweaters.

“Does that hurt?” you asked, bringing your hand up to lightly brush his lip, which was bleeding. He flinched instinctively before settling under your touch, your eyes focused on the small cut. “I have a first aid kit in my room if you want some help cleaning it up.”

“Oh, no, it’s cool. I wouldn’t want to bother your roommate,” Peter told you, scooting further away on the bench, nearly falling off the edge of it. Ned hated it when he stumbled in at some ungodly hour after patrol and woke him up.

“Don’t worry about it,” you said, standing up and gesturing for him to follow you. “I have a single.”

Peter looked at you in awe. Freshmen never got rooms to themselves, and yet somehow you had one. “Okay, fine. But only because I’ve never actually seen a single in this building before.”

“That’s cool with me,” you smiled, reaching for his hand so he could keep up with your pace. He noticed that you were chewing some of the banana bread, which he really hoped was from the part that didn’t fall on the floor. To be fair though, it did smell really good.

Not only did you have a single, but you lived on the first floor. Peter couldn’t believe how lucky you were, considering the building that the two of you lived in didn’t have any elevators to traverse its seven floors.

He was even more shocked when you opened your door, revealing the coziest dorm room he had ever seen. How on earth did you transform the glorified prison cell into something that felt so... comforting? From the twinkling lights that were wrapped around everything and the soft rug under his feet, Peter found it really hard to believe that you had trouble sleeping here.

“Sorry, it’s a bit messy,” you apologized, piling your many throw pillows and blankets into a basket to clear up some space on your bed. “You can sit here.”

If this was messy, then Peter and Ned’s room needed some serious help. “No worries,” he said, watching as you rummaged around your drawers in search of your first aid kit.

Eventually, you found it hidden under a bunch of graph paper and colored pencils, untouched ever since your overprotective grandparents had helped you move in. “Here we go,” you mused, now looking inside it for alcohol wipes and band-aids.

He winced as you rubbed the little cloth against his lips, and you made sure to be more gentle as you cleaned up the other cuts on his face. Thankfully, nothing was bad enough to require stitches, something you were seriously under-qualified to do.

All Peter could focus on the entire time was how close you were and what it would be like to just kiss you right then and there, but he knew that was way too forward of him. Plus, he didn’t even know if you liked him like that. Surely you were just being nice.

Still, the way he caught you staring into his brown eyes after smoothing a band-aid on his forehead made him think otherwise.

“You’re going to have to tell me eventually who beat you up,” you sighed, gathering up wrappers to throw away and tucking the first aid kit back into its place in your drawers.

“It’s a long story,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck and avoiding your stare.

“I’ve got time,” you replied, climbing onto your lofted bed to sit next to him, innocently brushing your bare leg against his jeans, which made his breath hitch. “Tell me about it.”

“Uh, how about another time?” he stammered, hopping off the bed and running his hand through his hair. “After class tomorrow, or something. It’s getting pretty late. We should, um, go to sleep.”

“You can stay here if you want,” you offered, his eyes widening at your invitation. “On the bean bag, I mean. It’s actually really comfortable. You mentioned something about bothering your roommate and I figured that maybe you’d like to avoid the trouble tonight.”

“Oh…” Peter hesitated, looking for a reason to say no. He knew he’d never be able to sleep knowing that you were in the same room as him. “I don’t have any pajamas.”

“True,” you agreed, a little disappointed that he wasn’t interested in sticking around.

“I don’t actually even wear pajamas to sleep,” he continued, making you look back up at him instead of playing with the hem of your shirt. “It’s just… I sleep in my boxers.”

“I’m sorry for asking. I didn’t mean to put you in an uncomfortable situation,” you sighed, your face hot with embarrassment.

“It’s not that! I mean, I do want to stay here. But, uh, you… well, you make me really nervous, Y/N,” he muttered, his glance bouncing around the room.

“Why?” you asked, your brows furrowing. “Did I do something?”

“No, no! Nothing at all. I promise, okay?”

“Okay. You can, um, get ready for bed, I guess. I promise not to look,” you assured him, turning on your side to face the wall.

“Thanks. Yeah, alright.” You heard him fumbling with his clothes, his sneakers making a soft thud on your floor. You did your best to resist the urge to glance back at him.

“Can I just use any of these?” he asked, although you had no idea what he was talking about.

“Peter, I’m not looking, remember? You’re going to have to be a little more specific than that.”

“The blankets. Do I just pick one, or are you particular about them?”

“Oh. You can use whichever one you want to. But the coral one’s the softest and my personal favorite.” Peter stared at the basket in confusion. To him, they were all just pink. But based on touch alone, he pulled one out that he figured was a little more orange than the others.

He walked over to the light switch and flipped off the overhead fluorescents, letting the room be illuminated by the warm glow of your fairy lights, which weren’t too bright, but still twinkly and beautiful.

“Goodnight, Peter,” you whispered, snuggling into your comforter in the hopes that your heartbeat would slow down and let you fall asleep for once.

“Goodnight, Y/N.” In a matter of minutes, you could hear his soft snoring, and you figured that it would be okay just to take a quick peek since he’d probably be bundled up in one of your blankets.

His hair was perfectly messy, and he looked so cozy wrapped up in the blanket you had recommended. Still, as much as you could stare at his adorable face all night, you were exhausted. Burying your face under the covers, you did your best to calm your nerves and get some rest before class tomorrow.

----------------

“Peter,” you whispered, jostling him lightly by the shoulders in the hopes of waking him up. “Uh, we have an hour before class. I was thinking that it would be enough time for you to go shower and change, and then we could go get coffee or something.”

He blinked back up at you, amazed at how well he slept on your bean bag. You had already gotten ready for the day, doing your makeup and picking out one of your many fluffy sweaters to keep you warm in the New York snow.

“Thanks, that sounds awesome,” he yawned, accepting the hand you held out to help him up. The blanket fell, and you stared at each other in shock, having forgotten that Peter was in nothing but his underwear.

You dropped his hand as fast as you could, covering your eyes. “Oh my god! I’m sorry. Shit, I completely forgot, Peter. I’m so sorry. I’ll let you get dressed.”

Peter watched as you stumbled around the room, your eyes squeezed tightly as your hands attempted to guide you away from him.

“Y/N,” he started, catching your attention as you nearly ran into your bed frame. “You can open your eyes. Really, I don’t care if you see me like this if it means I can keep you from breaking your nose.”

You hesitantly opened your eyes, relieved that Peter had already managed to pull his pants back on. Still, he was completely shirtless, and you found yourself staring at the abs you would have never expected to be hiding underneath his clothes.

Moments later, you averted your gaze, although you knew that he probably noticed you looking at where was now covered by his plaid button-down and dark blue sweater.

“I’ll, um, be right back,” he muttered, before practically sprinting out of your room and up the stairs. You groaned in embarrassment, burying your face in a pillow before attempting to take a quick twenty-minute power nap.

Peter couldn’t believe it. Sure, he had thought one time about you seeing him without clothes on, but this wasn’t how he thought it would go at all. Still, the image of you staring at him shirtless, your face flushed, made him feel like he was going to have a heart attack.

“Dude! There you are,” Ned screamed, startled at his roommate’s unexpected entrance. Peter panted, having run up four flights of stairs as fast as he could. “Wait a second. Did you finally get laid? Is this a walk of shame?”

Before Ned could praise him any further, Peter was grabbing a change of clothes and sprinting towards the bathroom. Don’t think about her, he begged himself.

The memory of your leg touching his last night immediately came to mind, and Peter was so angry at himself for being this starved for physical intimacy. To be fair, though, you were the most beautiful girl he had ever seen, and so he cut himself some slack.

Shit, he told himself, making sure the water was set to cold. He needed to calm down, but instead, his thoughts were stuck on how good you looked in your pajamas, but also how good you would look without them and—fuck it.

Peter liked you a lot, and if thinking about you like this in private kept him from being a complete weirdo in person, then maybe he just needed to get his feelings of desperation over with.

When he came back down to your room about thirty minutes later, you were still super tired. You trudged your way towards the door, your hair now noticeably messier than earlier, but at least that meant your nap had been a success.

His hair was still damp and this time he was wearing yet another blue sweater, which made you wonder if he ever wore any other color. He had his backpack slung over one of his shoulders and a nervous smile on his face as he locked eyes with you.

“Hey,” he said, pushing some of his hair out of his face. “Are you ready to go?”

You leaned against the doorway a little bit, letting out a yawn that was literally the cutest noise Peter had ever heard in his life. “Yeah, let me get my backpack.”

“It’s so heavy,” you continued, rightfully complaining as the weight of all its contents practically pulled you downwards. “I think it’s so stupid how almost every professor bans computers from class. Like, it’s not fair that I have to lug around three textbooks every day. I don’t have time to run back to my dorm in between classes like some people!”

Peter frowned. Three textbooks were nothing to him, but he knew that you didn’t have spidey-strength and that you were also pretty tiny compared to him. It must’ve been hell on your back to be carrying all that stuff around every day.

“I can carry it for you,” he offered, holding out his hand to switch with you. “Here, you can take my backpack if it’ll make you feel better. I have a lot of programming classes today, so I’ve only got my laptop and a notebook in there.”

You gave him a look of gratitude as he traded bags with you, literally taking the weight off your shoulders. He was right. His backpack was much more manageable for you, even if the dark grey contrasted with the light colors you always wore.

In contrast, it looked kind of odd for him to be walking around with a backpack that was covered in a soft pink floral pattern, much like everything else you owned, but the sight of him carrying your books brought a smile to your face.

It was one of the sweetest things a guy had ever done for you, and Peter wasn’t even your boyfriend. He probably didn’t even think of you in that way.

“Uh, where do you usually get coffee?” he asked, slowing his pace so you could keep up. He felt bad seeing how tired you were, no doubt due to the lack of sleep you got last night.

“The Starbucks next to Hendrie Hall,” you replied, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. “You?”

“I don’t drink coffee,” he admitted. “I’m actually more of a tea person.”

“Oh,” you hesitated, wondering if it was worth it to walk all the way across campus just for a caramel ribbon crunch frappuccino. “We could go somewhere closer then.”

“It’s okay,” Peter reassured you, grabbing your hand and pulling you along to your destination. “I like walking.”

----------------

You hadn’t really talked to Peter since that morning before class, but sometimes you would peek behind you and catch him stealing glances at you. Eventually, he had started to feel brave enough to give you a little wave whenever you caught him looking at you. Well, at least the times when you were awake.

One day, not even the loud shuffling and growing chatter of your classmates exiting the lecture hall could wake you up, and Peter figured he better do something before you got chewed out by one of the TAs.

“Y/N?” he said, leaning closer so that you could hopefully hear him. “Y/N. You gotta wake up. Class ended three minutes ago.”

He shook you a little bit, nervously hoping that you wouldn’t mind him touching you. Your eyes fluttered open, and you smiled softly as soon as you realized it was Peter.

“Oh. Thanks,” you said, standing up to slide your empty notebook into your backpack. Your hand brushed the side of your mouth, making sure you hadn’t drooled onto yourself.

“You can borrow my notes,” he offered, glancing at you sheepishly as you gathered up your coat and fixed your hair. “If you want to.”

“That’d be great,” you sighed, wondering whether you should skip your next class and just go take a nap. At this point, you weren’t even bothering to put on makeup and you basically wore whatever clothes you had that weren’t already sprawled across your room.

“Are you alright?” Peter asked, walking close to you to make sure you didn’t fall over. He knew you were an insomniac, but you looked seriously sleep-deprived today. “Have you been sleeping at all lately?”

“Nope,” you huffed, lugging your perpetually heavy backpack along. “But I’m skipping the rest of my classes today. I’d rather lie that I’m sick through an e-mail than have to explain to my professors why I was sleeping during their classes.”

“Fair enough,” he agreed, stopping you in your tracks to take your backpack from you. “I’ve actually got some time before my next class. I can walk you back to your room and give you my notebook if that’s okay with you.”

“You don’t have to do that,” you told him, reaching to take your bag back from him, although he didn’t let you.

“Y/N. Come on, you’re exhausted. At least let me carry your stuff, alright?” He had such a kind look in his eyes, and you certainly didn’t have the energy to keep arguing for no reason.

“Okay.” You crossed your arms, the cold air slowly waking you up as the wind hit your face. Your ears were super cold, but you were glad you had pulled your hair into a quick braid to keep it from flying everywhere.

It wasn’t long before you were kicking your boots off in your dorm room, your teeth chattering as you wrapped yourself in a blanket.

“Do you want some tea?” you asked Peter, inviting him to sit down wherever.

“Sure, but I thought you drank coffee,” he reminded you, watching as you pulled an assortment of tea bags for him to choose from.

“I do,” you said, handing him the box and running to your bathroom to fill up the electric kettle. “But you drink tea.”

Peter’s ears suddenly felt hot. You had gotten tea just for him. Or maybe you were just a really good hostess and kept some around for all of your visitors. Probably the second option, he thought.

“Are you even allowed to have one of those?” he asked as the two of you waited for the water to boil.

“No,” you laughed, sitting next to him on your bed. For someone with so much space to themselves, you really needed to invest in more places to sit. “But you can’t have candles or fairy lights either, so I guess I’m just a rule breaker.”

“Guess I’ll just have to report you to the RA,” Peter teased, getting up to make himself a cup of earl grey. “Do you have any sugar?”

“Top drawer on the right,” you replied. “Do you have a sweet tooth?”

“Yes.” You watched as his lips blew on the tea to cool it down before remembering that it was weird to stare.

“You should let me bake something for you. What’s your favorite dessert?” You were kicking your dangling legs, suddenly feeling a lot more awake than this morning.

“Chocolate cake. With chocolate frosting,” he said in between sips, walking back over to you. With you on the tall bed and him standing, your faces were level with each other.

“I’ll have to make you one to thank you,” you smiled, peering into his eyes. Peter felt your heartbeat quicken, and the grin on your face as you stared at each other made him weak in the knees.

“Can I get those notes?” you asked, making him remember that people don’t just look at each other and say nothing like that.

“Oh! Yeah, definitely.” He quickly set the mug down on your nightstand to rummage through his backpack, flipping one of his notebooks open before handing it to you. “There are the ones from today, but all of the ones I’ve taken this semester are in there too.”

“Wow,” you laughed, making a worried expression form on his face.

“What’s wrong? Are they not good?”

“No, it’s not that. They’re just, uh, very thorough.” He had basically transcribed your professor’s lectures onto the pages. “You must write really fast. But thank you, Peter. I really appreciate it.”

Peter nodded before nervously gulping down the rest of his tea, not even noticing how hot the liquid still was as it nearly burned his throat.

“I should go now,” he started, looking around the room for his things. “I want you to get some rest, Y/N. Please.”

He had this look in his eyes that was so genuine—so full of care and concern—that it made you want to do whatever he asked you to.

“I’ll try,” you told him, awkwardly rubbing the top of your arm in the hopes that you could actually fall asleep after he left. “Have a nice day, Peter.”

“Bye, Y/N. I’ll stop by later,” he said, already halfway out the door. “For the notes, I mean! Uh, bye. Again. Okay. I’m going to go now.”

You giggled, giving him one last wave before he left. Like magic, the more you thought about how Peter was worried about you, the easier it was for you to drift off into a peaceful sleep, finally feeling at ease for the first time in weeks.

----------------

You woke up later that day to Peter knocking on your door, this time standing next to some guy in a brightly colored Hawaiian shirt.

“Hi, Y/N,” Peter greeted you. You looked a lot less tired than when he saw you this morning, which relieved him. “This is my roommate, Ned. He just wanted to know who I’ve been hanging out with, so I hope it’s okay that I brought him here to prove you’re real and not a figment of my imagination.”

Ned leaned closer to you, your hair still a little messy from your nap. “Blink twice if he’s paying you,” he whispered, causing you to giggle. Peter looked on nervously, unsure of what his best friend had just said to you.

“What did you say!?” he asked, lightly pushing Ned on the arm, knowing that it was probably something meant to embarrass him.

“Ow! Okay, now I’m really not telling you,” Ned replied, rubbing the spot where Peter had just hit him.

“Y/N, what did Ned say to you?” He turned to you, a worried look on his face as you and Ned held back your laughter. Peter’s face turned as red as a tomato, making you instantly feel a little bit bad.

“It was nothing, Peter. Really,” you said, pulling him into the room with you. “It was nice to meet you, Ned. I’ll make sure he’s back before curfew.”

Ned laughed, offering a quick thumbs up and mouthing “I like her” to Peter before you shut the door on him.

“I knew that was a mistake,” Peter sighed, his back against the door. You were still a bit giddy from the exchange, giggling softly as he slowed his breathing.

“You don’t need to be embarrassed around me,” you reassured him. “We’re friends, right?”

“Yeah, of course. It’s just that…”

“What?” You could barely hear him as his voice trailed off.

“Well, uh, not all of my friends are, you know…”

“Spit it out, Peter,” you said, leaning closer so that you could hear him better.

“They’re not as pretty as you,” he muttered, making you blush at his words. Did he really think you were pretty?

“Oh. Thanks,” you smiled, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. Peter lifted his head up, relieved that you didn’t think he was a creep or something.

“Your notebook’s on my desk,” you continued, stepping back a little to give him some space. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding as the distance between you and him grew. “I just took a bunch of pictures, so I can look at them on my computer whenever.”

“Alright, awesome,” he said, walking over to collect it before turning back to you. “How’d you sleep?”

“Pretty well, actually. The best I’ve slept in a while. I think you’re some kind of good luck charm.”

“Really?” he asked, a little surprised that he had been helpful.

“Really. You know, I’ve been thinking…”

“Yeah?”

“Maybe it’d be nice if we hung out somewhere that wasn’t my room all the time,” you said, a hopeful look in your eyes. “If you want.”

Peter had never noticed it before, but the two of you really did spend most of your time together in your room. It really was a nice room, but it made sense that you’d want to get out of it every once and a while.

“I’d like that. What did you have in mind?” Play it cool, Parker, he told himself. You can freak out with Ned later.

“How about ice cream on Friday?” you suggested, which came as a bit of a surprise to him.

“In the middle of winter?” As far as Peter could remember, you were always cold.

“Yeah. I really love ice cream,” you added, smiling up at him.

“Okay, then. Ice cream it is,” he agreed. There was absolutely no way he could ever say no to you when you looked at him like that.

----------------

“May! No, it’s not a date. She’s just a friend. Yeah, I got it. Open the door, pay for her, don’t be an idiot!” Peter sighed into his phone, hoping his aunt’s unwarranted crash course on first dates would be over soon. “Yes, I’m wearing the green sweater. Thanks, love you. Bye!”

“I have no idea who told her I had a date tonight,” he groaned, slumping down onto the couch next to his best friend.

“I texted her,” Ned replied nonchalantly, not even looking away from whatever video game he was playing. “Knew you’d need some kind of pointers. Y/N is way out of your league.”

“Hey!” Was he right? Yes. Did Peter need to be reminded of it right before his not-a-date date with you? Definitely not.

“Come on, you know I’m right. It’s Liz Allan all over again. I have no idea how you keep pulling all of these pretty girls, but hey, credit where credit is due.”

“You’re so mean.”

“I keep it real and you love it. Good luck, man.”

“Bye,” Peter grumbled, slipping on his coat and walking out of their room. Four flights of stairs later, he was at your door.

“Hi!” you squeaked, wrapping your arms around him. This was the first time the two of you had ever hugged and Peter was not going to forget about it anytime soon. “Come in. I have a surprise for you!”

“Here,” you continued, holding out a blue and white beanie for him. “I made it for you. To match all those blue sweaters you wear all the time.” Except this time, he was wearing a forest green one, which brought out the slight hazel tinge in his eyes.

“You made this for me?” he asked, eyeing the different stitches you had used and fiddling with the pom-pom on top. It looked store-bought.

“Well, yeah, silly. I just said that,” you replied, hoping that he liked it. With all the time you didn’t sleep, you were knitting anyway, but this was a special present for him. “Try it on.”

“I didn’t get you anything,” he sighed, pulling the hat onto his head. He looked really cute, the ends of his wavy hair peeking out from underneath the brim.

“Don’t worry about it,” you said, pulling him out of your room and towards the front of the dorm building. “Getting to hang out with you is good enough for me.”

“Where’d you learn how to knit?” Peter questioned, walking alongside you on the snow-lined sidewalks. With how cold it was, and considering he didn’t have a hood on his coat, it seemed like perfect timing that you had given him a hat.

“My grandma taught me,” you shared, taking in the twinkling of the streetlamps and how they bounced against the snow. In New York, that was practically the closest you could get to stargazing. “My, uh, grandparents actually raised me.”

“Oh. I was raised by my aunt and uncle,” Peter confided. It made you feel not so alone to find out that he didn’t grow up with his parents either, even though you knew firsthand just how hard it was.

“Do they live around here?” you asked, stealing glances at him and how rosy his cheeks were in the cold air.

“Yeah, my aunt lives in Queens,” he told you, staring at his feet to both avoid eye contact and make sure neither of you accidentally slipped. Not that he wouldn’t catch you, but he wanted to be safe. “My uncle actually passed away a couple of years ago.”

You stopped walking, immediately feeling a sense of regret. “I’m sorry, Peter. I shouldn’t have asked.”

“It’s okay, Y/N. There was no way for you to have known that,” Peter reassured you, his warm breath coming out in clouds, and he reached for your hand to run his thumb across your knuckles. He gently pulled you along, keeping you from dying of embarrassment in the middle of campus.

“What about you? Are you from around here?” he asked, hoping to break the silence and make you feel a little bit better.

“No, I just moved up here for college. I grew up in Texas but moved to North Carolina when I was 13, so I finished school down there,” you explained, Peter suddenly noticing a slight Southern twang to your voice. “I just really wanted to go to school in a big city and not next to a farm for once in my life.”

“That makes sense,” he laughed, wondering what it would be like to live somewhere else. “I’ve only ever lived in New York City.”

“Do you like it here?”

“I love it. Wouldn’t want to be anywhere else, to be honest.”

“Me either,” you sighed, squeezing his hand tighter as the two of you enjoyed your walk in the snow.

It seemed like forever before you reached the ice cream shop, but you didn’t mind. That just gave you and Peter more time to get to know each other better. Turns out you both competed in academic decathlons, although you were more of a math person and he preferred science.

“Okay, you’re wrong. Night at the Museum 2 is so much better than the first one. I mean that kiss between Ben Stiller and Amy Adams? The Jonas Brothers as little cherub angels? Name one thing from the original that tops that,” you ranted in between spoonfuls of peppermint ice cream.

“I just really like when the little cowboy and gladiator are driving that toy car around,” he reasoned, subtly admitting defeat.

“Don’t even get me started on why the second Shrek movie—”

You were interrupted by the sound of Peter’s phone ringing, and you immediately recognized his ringtone as the Coconut Mall theme from Mario Kart. He peered down at his phone screen, sighing and mouthing an apology to you as he accepted the call.

“Uh, hey, Mr. Stark. Did you need something?” Well, at least you knew he wasn’t lying about his internship at Stark Industries. “Toronto? Tonight? I’m kind of busy.”

There was a long pause as Peter mentally kicked himself for talking back to Tony, resulting in an earful about how being an Avenger should always be at the top of his priorities.

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry. I’ll be right over… but I need a favor. Could you send Happy to pick my friend up? Yeah, it’s the ice cream shop on 1st. Thank you so much, Mr. Stark. Bye.” He frowned at you, and you could tell from what you had heard that he had to go.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. It’s just, something came up last minute and Mr. Stark really needs me to go on this business trip with him,” he apologized, pulling his coat on. “But, uh, he’s sending a car for you. So don’t worry about walking back alone, alright? I’m so sorry. I’ll make it up to you when I get back, okay? Bye!”

“Oh, okay. Bye!” you managed to call out before he was running out the doors and down the street. Lots of customers were staring as you awkwardly gathered your things and went to go wait on the sidewalk.

A few minutes later, a shiny black car had pulled up to the curb in front of you, a man rolling down the window.

“Miss Y/N? I’m Happy Hogan. Mr. Stark sent me to drive you home,” he called from the driver’s seat, before getting out to open your door for you. You stepped in, a little starstruck at how nice the car was. You had never been in anything this expensive before.

The two of you were sitting in silence until you finally got the courage to speak up.

“Mr. Hogan,” you started, causing him to turn down the smooth jazz that had been playing on the radio. “Do you know why Peter has to go to Toronto?”

“Yes,” he replied, glancing at you in the rearview mirror. “But I can’t tell you that.”

“Oh, okay,” you accepted, shifting to look out the window at all of the places in the city that you hadn’t yet gotten the chance to explore.

Eventually, he was dropping you off in front of your dorm, and you were trudging inside to your room to sulk about how your not-a-date date with Peter had gotten interrupted. You stared at your ceiling all night, wondering when the next time you’d see each other would be, and whether or not he’d come back with the same cuts and bruises as when you had first met.

----------------

Peter had been gone for six days and counting, and you were starting to worry that he might never come back. You had already started missing him the night he left, and now it was just some agonizing waiting game for him to return.

You must have spent hours in the basement kitchen before deciding to visit the fourth floor where Peter lived. You knocked on the door and was quickly met with Ned’s shocked expression.

“Uh, hi, Y/N. Peter’s not here right now. Did you need something?”

“I know,” you acknowledged, holding up the plate in your hand. “It’s just, well, I’ve been baking a lot and I didn’t really know who to give all of these cookies to, so I was wondering if you wanted any.”

“Oh, in that case, sign me up!” You watched as his face lit up as he noticed the assortment of chocolate chip, sugar, and snickerdoodle cookies all still warm from the oven. He offered his hands out to take the plate from you, which you happily relinquished.

“These are really good,” he complimented, his mouth full of a sugar cookie. “Can I keep the rest of them?”

“Yeah, of course,” you answered, doing your best to smile despite how much you wished it had been Peter opening the door. “I’ll see you around, Ned.”

“Hey, Y/N,” he called out to you, making you turn around on the stairwell. “Don’t worry. I’m sure Peter’s going to be back any day now.” You nodded, offering him a wave and walking back down to your room.

Turns out Ned had been right. The strange noises outside of your window were masked by how loud you were jamming out to We Didn’t Start the Fire by Billy Joel, jumping around and listing off the lyrics that had never made much sense to you. Peter knocked louder on the glass, startling you as you quickly switched off the music to investigate.

“Holy shit,” you whispered, squinting your eyes to make sure you weren’t hallucinating. “Spider-Man? Is that really you?”

You fumbled to push up your window, extremely confused as to why one of the Avengers was outside your bedroom this late at night.

“It’s me, Y/N,” he explained, his voice suddenly becoming extremely familiar. Your eyes widened as you realized who was behind the mask.

“Oh my god! PETER?” you screamed as he slipped through the window, pulling off his mask and clapping a hand over your mouth.

“Don’t freak out. It’s okay. It’s just me, okay?” he stammered in an attempt to get you to calm down before an RA heard. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I really wanted to tell you, but we were in public when I left, and I couldn’t risk it. And I didn’t want to text it or do it over the phone because it’s kind of a big deal, so I figured I’d just come to see you as soon as I got back and Mr. Stark said that you have to promise—”

“It’s okay, Peter,” you interrupted, wrapping your arms around him and burying your face into the very weird material of his spider-suit. “I won’t tell anybody.”

He softened under your touch, resting his head on top of yours. “I like your dance moves,” he whispered, making you glare up at him, your face suddenly very red.

“How long were you watching?” you groaned, dramatically throwing yourself onto your bean bag, your face covered by your hands.

“Only for about a minute,” he answered, pulling your hands down so you could see him grinning at you. “I especially liked how you used your hairbrush as a microphone. Plus, I thought we agreed to stop being embarrassed around each other?”

“Well, that was before I knew you were freaking Spider-Man!”

“Okay, fair enough,” he agreed, nudging you to scoot over and make room for him.

“So, that’s what that whole Toronto thing was?” you asked as he sat next to you, your knee touching his.

“Yep. There was this thing about aliens and these guys that could shapeshift. It’s a lot to explain.”

“Are you going to keep that thing on all night?” you asked, gesturing at his outfit, which was very tight and very distracting from whatever alien story he had to tell.

“Oh. Yeah, I guess so,” he shrugged. “I don’t have anything on underneath it.”

“How scandalous,” you teased. “Not so family-friendly after all, huh, Spidey?”

“Oh, shut up,” he quipped, rolling his eyes as you let out a long yawn.

“Have you been sleeping much?” he continued, suddenly remembering the issue that had brought the two of you together in the first place.

“Of course not. I’ve been too busy worrying about my classes and, oh, just some idiot I know that abandoned me in the middle of an ice cream shop. Pretty sure he said he’d make that up to me, by the way.”

“Okay, okay. Message received. What would you like?” Please say a kiss. Please say a kiss. Please say a—

“Can I meet them? The Avengers, I mean. It’s not like anyone else really has a secret identity except for you.”

“Oh. I mean, I’d have to ask Mr. Stark and the rest of the team and see if they’re cool with it, but I’ll see what I can do.”

“Awesome! You’re the best,” you chimed, wrapping your arms around him and planting a kiss on his cheek.

It was then that Peter decided he would just never be able to wash that side of his face again, his heart nearly skipping a beat.

“Peter,” you said, breaking the silence he had left the two of you in. “I’m tired.”

“Me too,” he sighed. “I should head up to my room. Gotta make sure Ned knows I’m still alive.”

“Yeah, of course,” you agreed, standing up to see him out. “Aren’t you worried somebody will see you, though?”

“Y/N, it’s 4 a.m. I’m pretty sure that you and I are the only people on campus that are awake right now.”

“Oh, right. Still, be careful, okay?” you told him, slightly worried at his secret identity being found out by some college kid that just couldn’t stay off Twitter.

“Will do,” he said, smiling and giving you a little salute before leaving.

----------------

A few days later, before you could even greet him, Peter was already walking into your room. It was 10 p.m., a little earlier than when he usually came over, but by now you were used to him showing up at your door unannounced.

He was already wearing his pajamas, a t-shirt with a science pun and some flannel pants that he had invested in to avoid any more awkward moments between the two of you. You were dressed in leggings and a sweatshirt, the clothes you usually threw on after class just in case you fell asleep on accident. There had been more times where you had woken up sweaty with your jeans stuck to your legs than you were willing to admit.

“Okay, so I asked Mr. Stark about your request and he told me he doesn’t think now is a good time, but…” he grinned, holding out a giant cardboard box with some kind of minimalist home appliance on the front for you to look at.

“Am I supposed to know what that is?” you blinked back, trying to figure out what the hell you were staring at, considering that all of the text written on it was in a language you didn’t know how to read.

“It’s some fancy white noise machine from Japan. If I remember correctly, Mr. Stark said he made Pepper order it because I wouldn’t shut up about you, and it would be in everybody’s best interest if you got some sleep, so I could stop annoying him and the rest of the team.”

“Oh. That’s pretty thoughtful, I guess,” you said, gathering things off your floor to make space for it.

He set the box down on your rug and got to work opening it. Meanwhile, you were busy translating what exactly Tony Stark had so generously gifted to you.

“Peter, wait. This thing is like $300. Doesn’t he know that you can just look up whale noises on YouTube for free?”

“Yeah, but this one adjusts its volume based on the noises around it, has a light that simulates the sun rising, and has an alarm noise that’s supposed to support healthy cortisol levels.”

Peter peered up to see your arms crossed and brows furrowed, it suddenly becoming clear to him that the things he had just listed meant very little to you.

“Plus, he’s a literal billionaire, so I don’t think it was that big of a loss for him,” he added.

“Fine. Let’s just hope this thing works,” you sighed, watching as Peter leafed through the instruction manual before tossing it behind him. “It’s a little early to go to sleep, though.”

“Y/N, plenty of people go to sleep at 10. Not everybody is nocturnal like you.”

“I guess you have a point,” you agreed, kneeling down beside him as he fiddled with all the settings.

“I know,” he said with a smirk as you rested your chin on his shoulder to get a better look at what he was doing. “What time do you want to wake up? 7 a.m. would give us time to go get breakfast before class, but we could do 8 if you wanted to sleep in.”

“We?” you mused, liking the sound of that. “I guess that means you’re staying here tonight?”

“Well, yeah. I’m not letting you have all these overpriced rainforest noises to yourself.”

“Do 7. We can go get those blueberry muffins that you like,” you decided, standing up to get Peter’s makeshift bed on your bean bag ready. “Do you actually like sleeping on this thing, or were you just trying to be polite the first time I asked?”

“Dude, that thing is awesome. It’s like I’m on this little cuddly cloud, and then you add all those warm blankets and the twinkly lights and it’s the perfect recipe for me to fall asleep.”

“Wow,” you nodded, looking around your room to see all of the things that Peter was talking about. “I wish it worked that way for me.”

“Maybe it will, tonight.”

It didn’t. You were tossing and turning for nearly an hour to the agonizing sounds of birds cawing and the occasional monkey chatter, all set against the backdrop of a heavy thunderstorm. To be honest, it was something that would’ve given you nightmares when you were little.

“Y/N?” Peter whispered from the floor. “Are you sleeping?”

“No.”

“Me neither.”

“Could you turn that thing off? It’s really distracting me.”

“Yeah, of course,” he said, leaning over to switch the noise machine off. “Can I ask you something?”

“You can ask me anything.”

He hesitated, not really sure if he should ask the question that he had been thinking about for a while now. “How old were you when your parents died?”

You had to think for a moment, not really sure about the answer. For as long as you could remember, you just lived with your grandparents. “Um, well my mom left when I was a baby. And I think my dad passed away when I was four.”

“Oh,” Peter mumbled. He couldn’t imagine what it would be like to have a parent leave you, but he didn’t want to pry just in case it was a sensitive topic. “Are your grandparents from your mom or dad’s side?”

You rolled over to rest your head on the edge of your bed so that you could see him better. He looked so cute bundled up in all of your blankets, his hair already a bit messy. “They’re my mom’s parents. It’s weird. I see a lot of pictures of her from when she was growing up, and I look so much like her, but she’s basically a stranger to me.”

Peter opened his mouth to say something else, but there was a long pause and he decided not to.

“What about you? How old were you when your parents passed away?”

“Five or six. They met while working at the C.I.A. together, but most of my memories are from the stories my aunt and uncle told me when I was growing up.”

For a moment, neither of you could find the right words to say to each other.

“Peter,” you spoke up, interrupting his thoughts. “I’m really glad I met you.”

“I’m really glad I met you too.”

----------------

Peter’s next plan of action involved even more advice from his fellow Avengers, and you were not looking forward to trying out any of their suggestions.

“Okay, so, Steve—I mean Captain America—said that when he was little, you know, in the 1940s, all he had to do was drink a glass of warm milk before bed.”

“I’m lactose intolerant,” you groaned, crossing your arms.

“I just saw you eat an entire pint of Ben and Jerry’s in one sitting the other day.”

“Regular milk has almost 15 times more lactose than ice cream. You’d think a science nerd like you would know that.”

“I’m a geek,” he scoffed, clearly a little bit offended. “Not a nerd.”

“Yeah, I can see that now. It’s okay, though. At least you’re pretty,” you said, pinching his cheek.

“Just try it,” he grumbled, handing you the warm glass and waiting impatiently for you to take a sip. If anything, the milk did a better job at keeping you up that night than putting you to sleep. Not even thirty minutes after you had gone to bed, you were feeling sick to your stomach.

“I hate milk,” you gagged, Peter holding your hair back as you kneeled over the toilet bowl. “My grandpa could never get me to drink it as a kid.”

“Is that why you’re so short?” he laughed, helping you up. You glared at him as you moved to the sink to wash the acidic taste out of your mouth.

“Shut up, Parker,” you quipped, tired and grumpy from how terrible you felt. “Let’s just go back to sleep.”

“Alright, munchkin,” he smiled, pulling you out of the bathroom and back towards your bed.

Somehow, the warm milk wasn’t even the worst of Peter’s ideas, because a few days later, he was standing at your door with a bottle of some Asgardian sleep aid from the lightning god himself.

“Are you sure this is safe for me to drink?” you asked, your eyes widening as you stared at the silvery liquid that was almost shimmering.

“Uh, I’m about 87% confident you’ll live,” he said, “But I’m 100% sure that it’ll work.”

“Gee, thanks. Now I really want to drink this weird alien potion,” you sighed, looking at him nervously.

“Just drink a little bit and see if you feel anything,” Peter encouraged, leaning over your shoulder. You nodded, hesitantly bringing the drink up to your lips to take a sip.

“This stuff tastes amazing,” you mused, taking a bigger gulp this time. “Like a blue raspberry slushie.”

“Whoa, that’s enough,” he warned, taking the bottle from your hands before you could drink any more of it. “We don’t want you to go into a coma.”

“I don’t feel anything,” you shrugged, frowning back at him. “Maybe I should—”

You stopped mid-sentence to let out a loud yawn, the potion starting to take effect. Peter caught you as you slumped down in your chair, helping you into bed.

“Okay. I definitely feel it now,” you admitted, already half asleep. Peter tucked you under your blankets, placing a kiss on your forehead as your eyes fluttered shut.

“Sweet dreams, Y/N,” he whispered, turning off your lights and softly closing the door behind him.

For a moment, Peter had thought he had finally found a solution to your insomnia. At least before you slept through class the next morning. And then the day after that. But it wasn’t until the third day that he really started to freak out.

“Where’s Thor!?” he panted, having run all the way from his class over to the Avengers Tower. Wanda and Vision stared back at him from the kitchen, very confused at what he was so panicked about.

“He’s in his room,” Bucky called from the couch, his mouth full of popcorn as 13 Going on 30 played on the big screen. “What’s going on, kid?”

“No time to explain. Gotta go!” Peter called, sprinting up the stairs towards Thor’s room. He knocked frantically until the door finally swung open.

“Greetings, young Spiderling. To what do I owe the pleasure?” Thor smiled, his long, golden hair shiny as ever.

“I think I killed my almost-girlfriend!” Peter blurted out, practically sweating from how stressed out he was. “She drank that stuff you gave me and she hasn’t woken up in three days now!”

Thor chuckled, patting Peter on the head. “Do not worry, my brother. I’m sure she will wake up given time. It was a very potent drink, after all. Calm yourself.”

“Okay,” he sighed, relieved to know that he hadn’t poisoned you to death. “Cool. Cool, cool, cool. She’s fine. Everything’s fine. Thanks, man. I’ll, uh, I’ll see you around.”

“Farewell, Peter. May we meet again soon,” he grinned before closing the door in Peter’s face.

On the way back down the stairs, Peter figured he’d give you a call and see if you were still sleeping.

“Hello?” you groaned, your throat dry from just waking up. “Peter, what the hell happened to me?”

“THANK GOD YOU’RE ALIVE!” Peter yelled into the phone, making you recoil from the volume of his excitement. “You’ve been asleep for three days, Y/N. I thought you were dead.”

“I am very much alive,” you laughed, slowly feeling the potion wearing off. “Where are you?”

“Uh. I may have run all the way to Midtown to ask Thor if I had killed you,” he admitted, feeling you roll your eyes through the screen. “I was worried, okay?”

“Now you know how I feel whenever you leave for a mission,” you countered, glad that Peter couldn’t see how much you were blushing. “Hurry up and get your butt back over here. I have the weirdest dream to tell you about.”

----------------

Even if you still weren’t getting a full eight hours of rest at night, it was obvious that all of Peter’s efforts had vastly improved your sleep schedule. Over the past few months, you had gone from staring at your ceiling all night to actually being able to stay asleep for small periods of time.

“Your eyelashes are so long,” you mused, playing with Peter’s hair. He was sitting in between your legs and How the Grinch Stole Christmas was playing on your TV.

“Really?” He tilted his head back to look at you, batting his eyelashes and making you giggle.

“Yes. It’s not fair that boys get all of the pretty eyelashes,” you pouted, watching as the Grinch explained his plan to steal all of Whoville’s presents to his dog.

“I think yours are pretty,” he replied, a soft smile on his face. “But there’s a rogue one just hanging out on your face right now.”

“Can you get it?” you asked, your eyes still glued on the TV screen. Peter nodded, twisting around to gently brush the eyelash from your cheek.

“Do you want to make a wish?” he laughed, holding the little eyelash on the tip of his finger in front of you.

“Okay,” you agreed, squeezing your eyes shut and blowing it away. When you opened them, Peter’s face was only inches away from yours.

“What did you wish for?” His gaze shifted downwards to look at your lips for a split second, before returning to look into your eyes.

“I can’t tell you, dummy. Then it won’t come true.” You weren’t about to tell your best friend that you wished for him to kiss you. At least not now, while the two of you were stuck in this really weird “not dating, but more than just friends” limbo.

“Fine,” he frowned, crossing his arms and pouting in a way that you recognized had been mimicked after you.

“Don’t make fun of me,” you said, mirroring his stance. Your puppy dog eyes were definitely a lot more convincing than his.

“I’m not.”

“Uh-huh, sure. You smell really good, by the way. Well, your hoodie does. I could just wrap myself up in it and fall asleep.”

“How come you’ve never mentioned that before? You could’ve been out cold every night months ago!”

“Guess I was just too distracted by your dreamy face,” you teased, causing Peter to blush.

“Whatever. Seriously, though. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I don’t know. I think it took me a while to realize how sleepy I got whenever you were really close to me,” you shrugged. “You’re not mad at me, right?”

“Of course not. But if I had known sooner I would’ve just given you one,” he said, slipping the hoodie over his head and handing it to you. “Here, put it on. You better fall asleep instantly or I’m calling bullshit.”

“You caught me, Peter. This was all some elaborate plan for me to steal one of your hoodies.”

“Just put it on. The suspense is killing me.”

You rolled your eyes and pulled his hoodie on. Just from looking at Peter and how slim he was, you never would have guessed that it would be this oversized on you.

“How do I look?” you asked, striking silly poses in front of him. Peter involuntarily licked his lips and he knew he’d be replaying this image of you in his head for the next few weeks.

“You’re going to have to keep that,” he stammered, doing his best to hide how much he really liked seeing you in his clothes. “It looks a lot better on you. I, um, have to go do my homework. And call my aunt. And walk my roommate.”

Peter stumbled to his feet, staring at his wristwatch to maintain his act that he was late for something before grabbing his things and heading out the door, making sure to hold his backpack in front of him. “Let me know if the hoodie thing works. Bye!”

----------------

Brushing off Peter’s strangely abrupt departure from last night, you nuzzled into your pillow, the warm morning light spilling through your curtains. Last night had probably been your best sleep in months, and you even got to wake up late since it was Saturday. Things probably couldn’t have gone any better.

Before you knew it, you were running up to Peter’s room and banging on his door. He opened the door on your fourth knock, right after Ned had chucked a pillow at him, and you were met with his sleepy eyes and messy hair.

“It worked!” you yelped in excitement, twirling around and still wearing his hoodie. “Well, kind of. I fell asleep after about an hour, and then I slept for maybe three after that. But I had to pee in the middle of the night, and when I got back into bed I couldn’t fall back asleep until 6 a.m.”

“That’s some good progress,” he yawned, stepping out into the hallway to keep your little celebration from bothering Ned too much. “If only we could get you to sleep the entire night.”

“I know right. But I’m so happy!” you cheered, wrapping your arms around him. “We finally did something right!”

“We need to celebrate!” you continued, grabbing Peter’s hand and dragging him down the stairs. “Come on. We’re making you a chocolate cake!”

You stopped by your room on the way to the kitchen, piling a bunch of ingredients into Peter’s arms from your mini-fridge and various shelves.

“Okay, eggs, flour, butter, sugar, chocolate. Damn it. We’re all out of milk.” You side-eyed him, remembering the whole Captain America induced fiasco from a couple weeks ago.

“I think we might have some in our room,” Peter laughed. “Ned drinks a lot of milk mixed with Milo powder. It’s some obsession he picked up when his family took a vacation to Australia. I’ll go get it.”

He set all of the ingredients you had given him on your desk and sprinted back up the stairs to raid Ned’s stash, already thinking of ways to apologize for it later.

A few minutes later he was knocking on your door, out of breath, and dressed to brave the many inches of snow that had fallen overnight.

“We didn’t have any milk,” he panted. “But I can run to the dining hall and get a few cartons.”

“I’ll go with you.” You quickly pulled on your snow boots and layered your puffer coat on top of Peter’s hoodie, wrapping a hand-knit scarf around your neck just to be safe. “All ready.”

Getting the milk was the easy part. Making sure you didn’t die of frostbite was another story. By the time you and Peter got back to your room, your nose was super red and you couldn’t feel your toes.

“Okay,” you said, your teeth chattering. “I thought I was used to the snow by now, but that was something else.” You dropped your coat on the ground and climbed into your bed, burying yourself under your comforter.

“I thought we were making a cake,” he laughed, walking over to see you peeking out of the pile.

“Cake will have to wait,” you whined, your voice slightly muffled by the blanket. “Come here. I need some of your body heat.”

“Okay,” he stuttered, kicking off his sneakers and climbing in beside you. He had sat on your bed a lot since the two of you met, but this was the first time that he was actually laying in it. You snuggled up to him, and he hesitantly wrapped his arms around you.

“This is nice,” you sighed, nuzzling your head into his chest. “Is this one of your superpowers? Spidey-warmth?” Peter let out a soft laugh. It was silly but true. Ever since the bite, he never really noticed how cold it was outside anymore.

“Y/N,” he whispered, tightening his grip around your waist. Your head was nestled underneath his chin, and he could smell the faint citrus scent of your shampoo. “I need to tell you something.”

“What is it, Pete?” you yawned, your eyelids heavy from how comfy Peter’s cuddles were.

“I love you.” He held his breath, nervously waiting for you to respond.

“I know,” you giggled, intertwining your legs. “Sometimes, you talk in your sleep. You’ve probably professed your love for me at least eight times by now.”

“Oh.” Peter had no idea how he was supposed to respond to that.

“Don’t worry. I love you, too,” you assured him, grinning and placing little kisses on his jawline. “I thought that was obvious.”

“Maybe you could make it a little more obvious,” he mumbled, his heartbeat getting quicker as you shifted up to kiss him on the lips, your hand running through his hair.

“I will,” you smiled, your forehead resting against his. “But after we take a nap, okay?”

“Okay,” Peter agreed, snuggling as close as he possibly could to you, never wanting to let go. In no time at all, he watched happily as you fell asleep in his arms, wondering how the two of you hadn’t thought of this sooner.

----------------

Taglist: @hommyy-tommy @itsgonnabeohtay @alltimekyn @allycat449-blog @greatpizzascissorstaco @dummiesshort @parkerpeterparker2004 @letssee2468 @parkerlovebot @alytavzla @yourbiggestspiderfan @silentium-tais-toi @jailcalledlife @orangesodafoam @obsssedwithjustaboutanything @hufflepuffprincess24 @hollanddolanfangirl @in-a-lot-of-fandoms-tbh @spideydreamers @taciturnspidey @harrisonsoceaneyes

P.S.: Please shoot me an ask or a reply if you’d like to be added to (or removed from) the taglist!

#peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #peter parker fluff #peter parker imagine #peter parker oneshot #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker #spiderman #spiderman x reader #marvel #mcu #tom holland x reader #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fluff

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fanficwrit3r · 3 years ago

Text

Peaky Blinders Quote Prompts

Quote prompts for Peaky Blinders. Can be done for any character upon request. These can be done for canon characters, x-reader, oc, or platonic.

More will be added periodically.

Request Guidelines Here

Submit Requests Here

Main Masterlist Here

Angst & Hurt/Comfort: *TW for suicidal thoughts, self-harm, etc* 1: "Shh, you're safe. I won't let you go." 2: "I think I'm in love with you... and that scares me." 3: "Does it ever stop hurting?" 4: "Sometimes I wish I could fall asleep and never wake up." 5: "How could you do this to me?" 6: "You're not safe here." 7: "I wasn't ready to say goodbye." 8: "What happened to you?" 9: "Don't lie to me!" 10: "Maybe you should sit down." 11: "You're burning up!" 12: "I have the right to be worried!" 13: "Do you need a hospital?" 14: "Why did you do it? Tell me..." 15: "You know I am always here for you, right?" 16: "You're not okay." 17: "You really need to stop drinking." 18: "You stay awake, you hear me?! Don't you dare close your eyes!" 19: "Listen to me! Everything is NOT going to be fine!" 20: "Shhh, just a bad dream. None of it was real. Just a dream." 21: "Don't tell me you're fine, you're covered in blood!"

Fluff: 1: "No, I'm not letting you go. It's too early to get up yet." 2: "What? I can't cook you dinner?" 3: "I could kiss you right now!" 4: "Since when did you write poetry?" 5: "I'm not a child!" 6: "Shut up and kiss me." 7: "You make me so happy." 8: "I like the way your hand fits in mine." 9: "I really love holding you." 10: "Did you really plan all of this?" 11: "You can't leave without a hug." 12: "If I could, I would kiss away all your scars." 13: "Look, I know you're a tough guy, but can you play with my hair?" 14: "I'll keep you warm."

#peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders #peaky fookin blinders #thomas shelby #tommy shelby #peaky blinder imagine #john shelby #finn shelby #michael gray #peaky blinder headcanon #alfie solomons #x reader #oc fanfiction #imagines #reader insert #canon characters

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thefanficmonster · 3 years ago

Note

I may or may not have just sent the 3 word challenge in my real account instead of anon... I'm sorry. Please don't answer there. :)

When you post, post answering here please.

Again, much love,

📚🌻

Don't worry dear! Your identity shall remain a secret 🥰 Here's yet another fic with my Resident Evil OC: Gwen Winters (she’s an adult guys, don’t worry. However this is still an Older Man/Younger Woman relationship)

The words dear 📚🌻 Anon gave me in their previous ask were: Unruly, endurable and system. Please enjoy!

What happens in the gym....

Pairing: Chris Redfield x Female OC

Warnings: Swearing, Spoiler Free 😊

Genre: Angsty Romance

“Sure, throw me in the fire like you always do, Leon!“ Chris snaps, clenching his fists tightly as he glares at his best friend while the two stand in the dimly lit gym.

“Chris, you’re a BSAA captain, for the love of God! You should know better than to complain about something as little as this!“ Leon, while significantly calmer tone and demeanor-wise, is glaring daggers of his own.

“Why me, damn it?! And why her?!“ Chris is not done with his attempts to get out of the situation Leon’s trying to land him in and his partner’s honestly done with it.

“And why not?! You see the same potential I see, why would it be so hard to train her? She’s a quick learner, she’s disciplined when she wants to be and she’s already skilled to a certain degree. You’ve made soldiers out of total wimps before, why is she such a hassle to you?!“

“Because she’s disciplined when she wants to be and I guarantee she won’t want to when she’s around me. She’s unruly, selfish, arrogant and a Chris-phobe. I’m telling you, she hates me!“

It’s about time Leon’s had enough of this conversation. To be honest, he was done with it as soon as it started but he stayed, thinking he’d be able to change Chris’ mind but seeing as how this is a hopeless case, he’s just been wasting his time. “Does she? Or are you projecting your hate for her onto her?” Slinging his duffel bag containing his training gear over his shoulder, Leon finally makes that realization that these are ten minutes of his life he’ll never get back and storms out of the gym without another word.

Chris doesn’t attempt to stop him, in fact, he’s relieved he left. He sighs, silently hating himself for all the shit he said and how he meant none of it. It was all hard bullshit and he doesn’t know whether to be thankful or disappointed that Leon didn’t realize. Either way, he’s been cleared of possible suspicion, even if training the newest BSAA rookie still remains as his task.

Gwen Winters, she’s such a fucking handful. One cannot tell if it’s because she’s angry with the world, angry with herself or just straight up picked up on the habits of the family that took her in when she was rescued from Raccoon City where she was held as an experiment hamster. A chemistry project basically. Ethan and Mia were recovering from the events back in Louisiana at the time, still probably are, that is not some shit you get over, so they thought having another person in the house would help them. And help Gwen did. See, Gwen isn’t a handful with everyone. In fact, she’s a real sweetheart and Chris knows it too, despite his bogus claims. He knows she’s got a heart and soul of gold and is built with the will of a BSAA soldier already. All she needs is a bit better fighting skills and she’s good to go.

He sees how she acts with everyone around him. She’s been quick to make friends with Jill and his sister Claire and she’s even got Leon’s liking and trust which is hella hard to get, especially after all the shit with Ada. She’s overall a super sweet and lovely girl, even with him from time to time. He’s seen her welcoming, friendly smiles whenever he stops by the Winters’ home. He’s heard her laugh at the jokes he rarely cracks.

Then why does she act like she hates him so often? And why does he claim he hates her?

Chris is snapped back to reality by the sound of rough impact. It’s a very distinct noise, one he places immediately: the sound of fists hitting a punching bag. It’s the middle of the night, almost midnight actually, and knowing how lazy the soldiers on his team are, he can only assume it’s either his sister or Jill, given that Leon just left. However, they’ve had people sneak in to train for free before, so it’d be for the best if he went to check who was releasing some pent up energy on the poor punching bag. Judging by the intensity of the punches being thrown, sounds like the person might be angry as well.

And they have every right to be. Because they are Gwen.

Chris’ face goes a bit red at the sight of the infuriated rookie giving the punching bag her all, punishing it the way she’d want to do to her superior she just heard call her all the names she hates being referred by.

“Winters I-“

“Unruly?“ Punch “Selfish?” Punch “Arrogant?” Punch

She stills herself, sighing and wiping the droplets of sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand, “You say all that and expect me not to be a Chris-phobe?” She lets out a bitter laugh, rolling her shoulders before continuing her wrath over the piece of equipment she’s threatening to destroy. She hasn’t spared him a single look yet, something he’s rather grateful for because the last thing he wants to see is whatever her gaze is hiding right now. “I’ll talk to Leon.” She says, her voice leveled and breathy, far from the pissed off tone she was just using. This calmness is a lot scarier though. “I’ll tell him I don’t want you to be my trainer. To be perfectly clear, I never wanted you to train me in the first place. I’m just not the type to complain, you know. I’m not picky. Beggers can’t be choosers. I take what I can get. And you were all I was offered, but...” she trails off, delivering a particularly hard punch, “It’s not gonna work. I may not be picky, but I know when to draw the line. I know when I deserve better.”

“Kid, you really have no idea what the case really is here.“ He attempts desperately, taunted by the thought of acting on his instincts and approaching her even if that means being the recipient of one of those hard punches.

“You know, I’m strong. I’m skilled. I can hold my own in a fight quite nicely. I’m endurable. I’m not afraid to work my ass off and sweat and pant like a dog after workouts. There’s not a line I wouldn’t cross, but you still choose to make me feel lesser than any soldier you’ve ever come across, that’s really lovely of you, Captain Redfield.“

“Winters, please...“

“It’s ok, I won’t tell Ethan and Mia. I’m sure they’ll send you to hell over it. I’m not petty like that.“

He’s had enough. He’s had enough of hearing that hurt tone in her voice. He’s done hearing these words she’s so certain are true but aren’t. He’s done lying to her and to himself. Before he can even think twice about it, he grabs her by the arms gently but firmly, turning her to face him despite her hostile attempts to free herself from his hold like a wild animal caught in a trap. He’s surprised when she relaxes, probably seeing that as a quicker way out of the situation rather than struggling though if she tried to free herself any longer he would’ve probably let her go.

“Fucking hell, Gwen, listen to me.“ He looks her dead in the eyes, catching onto the spark of shock created by his use of her first name. But he also sees something else, something that looks dangerously a lot like tears. He knows she won’t cry, especially not in front of him, but knowing that he’s the cause behind the welling of those crystal droplets in her always shiny, always smiling eyes breaks him. When she doesn’t look away nor protest, he continues, “I can’t be your captain. I can’t be your trainer. I can’t be any of that. I’m a strictly professional man, and it’d be highly unprofessional of me to take you in as my soldier.”

“But why?“ She’s fully aware she sounds like a whiny kid - exactly how she thinks he envisions her sometimes - but she couldn’t care less. She wants and needs answers. She knows she won’t be able to fall asleep or keep coming back to the training center if she doesn’t get them.

It’s blatantly clear this is far from easy for Chris. His first instinct is to look away, let go of her, run away like he always does - not that she’d let him do such a thing but still. He’s finds the words impossible to spit out yet he oh so desperately feels the need to get them out of his system. And so, he gathers all the strength within him and finally forces himself to say it.

“Because a captain isn’t supposed to look at a soldier the way I look at you.“

Sure, it sounds cryptic as heck but he has no doubt she’ll catch on. Gwen is a smart and sharp girl, among many other things. She confirms this when barely three seconds after he’s said it, he notices her eyes widening

“Sir, I-“

“Don’t.“ He says simply, a small, regretful smile playing across his lips as his hand slides down her arm to take hold of hers, “I just admitted my dirtiest secret to you and you are still gonna remind me how unprofessional I am by using my title, Kid?“

She purses her lips, the shock momentarily replaced by her signature mild glare, “Well, you just admitted your biggest secret to me and yet you still choose to call me ‘Kid’, huh?”

He chuckles, letting his other hand repeat the movements of the first, “Sorry, force of habit.” His thumbs brush against her knuckles briefly as his head falls, his gaze fixating on where their bodies are connected, “You know, I didn’t tell you this to get myself any pity or anything. I just wanted you to understand and....wanted to get it off my chest. Ethan will kill me if he finds out, won’t he?” He suddenly asks, regaining the courage to look up at her once again.

She giggles, “Who says he’s gonna find out?”

Chris bites the inside of his cheek, shaking his head, “You’re right, there’s nothing really to find out abo-”

Gwen has never been a chatter nor can she tolerate when people beat around the bush so she’s quick to cut them off sometimes, no matter how rude that may seem or sound. However, just to clarify, her chosen method of cutting a person off isn’t always kissing them. Just saying - this is a special situation requiring special methods.

Taken aback by the sudden feeling of her lips on his, Chris’ eyes close automatically but not even a second later he responds to the kiss properly: wrapping his arms around Gwen’s waist as her hands travel up to cup his face. The kiss is short - too short if either of them is to be asked - but it’s worth all the words they didn’t say despite wanting to.

When they pull away, Gwen gives him a mischievous smile, “Now he could find out about that and then shit would go south. That’d suck, wouldn’t it Chris?“

He’s only ever heard her say his name twice, once in passing conversation with Claire and once earlier when she paraphrased his term ‘Chris-phobe’, both time spoken with some dose of dislike he now realizes was a cover-up all along. Turns out the two are a lot more alike than they initially thought. Regardless, hearing her say his name with fondness instead of bitterness makes his heart flutter, his body yearn to have her closer, his lips wanting to be in contact with hers again. But he’s a patient and self-controlled man, he’s nothing if not willpower sculpted in a human body, so he keeps his distance, waiting for her to pick the moves, waiting for her to make the decisions just like she’s his captain.

“Big time.“ He manages to say, voice coarse all of a sudden, barely able to leave his throat. “So it stays here, right?”

She giggles again, bringing her lips within an inch or two away from his, taunting him, threatening to break his self-control, “What happens in the gym stays in the gym, Redfield.”

Golden rules of discretion, ones he mustn’t break ever. Especially not when his captain - Captain Gwen Winters - holds so much power over him.

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ddixons-angel · 3 years ago

Text

Fated: Season 8

Summary: Gloria Rhee narrowly escapes Atlanta with her brother as the outbreak reaches the city. Luckily, they find a camp outside the city and together, they fend through encounters with the living and undead.

Starts a little before Season 1 and then follows the main storyline of the show.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Glenn Sister!OC

Warnings: major TWD spoilers, language, violence (the typical TWD stuff)

A/N: and here we are... the FINAL (temporarily anyway hehe) chapter of Fated! It’s a pretty bittersweet feeling since I grew so attached to this series, I don’t really want it to end, which is why I have plans to continue it with the next few seasons of the show! And I know that the gif I used for this chapter was from season 6... but it was so hard to find any gifs of Daryl smiling... which is sad :( ANYWAY, let’s go forth with the last chapter!!!

Chapter 10

It was mid afternoon at the Hilltop, people were going about their lives and doing their chores around the community. Gloria lies in her bed with a tired smile as she watches Daryl cradle the newborn baby girl in his arms, cooing at their daughter she had just given birth to mere hours ago.

“Hey,” Gloria calls out as she sits herself up on the bed, “haven’t you hogged her enough?”

Daryl looks at her and scoffs playfully, “ya’ve had her for nine months, and ya say I’m hoggin’ her.”

“That’s not even the same thing! And for the record, I didn’t even know I had her for the first four months.” she argues with a pout.

“Tha’s yer fault.” Daryl replies with a smirk then looks down at the baby girl in his arms, “isn’t it? Hm?”

Gloria isn’t able to hide her smile as she sees Daryl talking to the baby, she then opens her arms in his direction, “can I at least get some affection from my husband then?”

Daryl looks at her and smiles at her words, he steps towards the bed as Gloria scoots to the side, making room for him to sit down. Cradling the baby in his arm, wrapping his other around Gloria who snuggles into him. She leans her head on his chest as she smiles down at their daughter.

“How did we make something so innocent and pure like her?” Gloria says softly, not wanting to wake up the sleeping girl.

“She gets all that from ya,” he says, pressing a kiss on Gloria’s forehead, “she wouldn’ be here if it weren’t for ya.”

“You say that as if you don’t know how babies are made,” she chuckles, making Daryl roll his eyes.

“I mean it,” he looks at her sincerely, “ya carried her for 9 months, yer body protected her, even from the Saviors and ya didn’t even know ya had her. If ya weren’t as tough and strong as ya are, she might not’ve made it.”

Gloria smiles at his words and brushes their daughter’s cheek gently with her finger, “I can’t take all the credit for that, she’s a little fighter too, I just did my role as a mother, even if I didn’t know it yet, my body for sure did.”

Daryl hums in agreement, “an’ I’ll protect ya both, like a dad’s supposed to.”

Gloria looks at Daryl at his words, “hey,” she calls out to him in a whisper as she caresses his face.

There was a sadness in Daryl’s voice and Gloria knew where it came from. She knew very well what kind of man Daryl’s father was and what he did to Daryl and Merle when they were kids.

“You’re gonna be such an amazing father, I can tell.” she says with a soft smile.

“Can ya?” he lets out a small chuckle.

Gloria nods, “just by the way you hold her, you’re a natural. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you had more experience, and I’m not just talking about Judith.”

“Hmm... maybe I do an’ jus’ never told ya.” Daryl teases with a smirk.

She eyes him playfully, “you’re lucky I love you.”

“You’re right, I am,” he says, pulling her in for a kiss, “I’m the luckiest man alive.”

Gloria giggles into his lips and kisses him back tenderly. Their kiss is interrupted by a knock on the door, the two pull away from each other as Maggie opens the door with a smile.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” she asks.

“Not too bad, given that I just popped a baby out of me,” Gloria says with a chuckle.

“Are you able to walk?” Maggie asks, “Carol’s downstairs with the others, if you’re too tired I can let them know.”

“I think I’ll be okay, I may need you to help me down the stairs though,” Gloria smiles.

Maggie chuckles and nods, going over to Gloria as she gets off the bed, “since you got attached, you hold onto her,” Gloria says to Daryl.

He scoffs playfully and gets off the bed as well, not denying that he did get attached to their daughter fairly quickly. The three of them make it out the room with Daryl carrying the little girl in his arms as they go down the stairs. Maggie gently holds onto Gloria as she takes each step and finally they’re on the ground floor. Gloria turns into what she considered the lobby of the Barrington house and she’s greeted by delighted smiles of people from Alexandria and the Kingdom. Carol is the first to go up to hug her.

“We came as soon as we heard it was happening,” she says as she pulls away from the hug, “how are you feeling?”

“Tired, exhausted, can’t wait to sleep,” Gloria says with a chuckle.

“I have some bad news for you then,” Rick says with a teasing smile, “you and Daryl aren’t gonna have a good night’s sleep for a while.”

“I don’ sleep much anyway,” Daryl mutters then turns his attention to their daughter who had woken up, “right? You’re gonna keep us up, aren’t ya?”

“I’ve never seen Daryl like that before,” Aaron says in awe as he watches the two.

“He was like that with Judith,” Michonne grins at the sight.

Daryl looks at the others who are staring at him, slight blush creeping on his cheeks, “what?”

Tara shrugs, “I just don’t think I’ve ever seen or heard you be so... gentle before?”

“Yeah, it’s amazing what kind of hold she has on you,” Rosita grins as she teases Daryl.

Eugene nods as he stands beside her, “I have to say, witnessing Daryl as amiable as he is right now is really a sight to behold.”

Daryl purses his lips and looks to Gloria for help and she chuckles as she shakes her head, “alright guys, that’s enough, you’re embarrassing him.”

“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, Daryl,” Ezekiel smiles warmly at him, “I believe what the others are trying to say is that you are a natural with your kin.”

“You’re a natural, dude!” Jerry chimes in cheerily.

“Thanks..” Daryl mutters, his face still a light shade of pink.

“So!” Jesus starts, clapping his hands together, “Have you two decided on a name for your little girl?”

His question turns their immediate attention to Daryl and Gloria, patiently waiting for their answer. They all look eager to chime in with suggestions if needed. Gloria smiles at this and glances at Daryl.

“Go ahead,” he says with a small smile.

Gloria nods then looks at the others, mainly focusing on Maggie and Carol, “we decided to name her Sophia Bethany Dixon.”

Grateful smiles light up Maggie and Carol’s faces as they hear the name given. Gloria lets out a breath of relief when they thank her with a deep hug. She and Daryl had discussed it when they found out they had a daughter. Gloria thought it was only fitting to name her after Sophia and Beth to honor the girls.

---

Sophia is now a few days old as Gloria places her in the crib beside Hershel’s. She’s finally drifted off to sleep after a crying fit. Gloria lets out a soft sigh then goes to check on Hershel and smiles at his little sleeping figure. She tucks them both in to make sure they’re sound asleep then leaves the nursery. She makes her way to Maggie’s office and knocks three times before opening the door.

“Hey Maggie-” Gloria says as she opens the door but cuts herself short when she doesn’t see her sister-in-law in the room.

Instead, she’s met by Jesus standing by the door, Rick leaning on the desk, Daryl sitting on one of the chairs placed along the wall, and Ezekiel and Aaron standing by the chairs facing the desk. Gloria blinks as they all turn to look at her.

“Everythin’ okay?” Daryl perks up when he sees his wife in the doorway as if he’s ready to ditch whatever conversation is going on.

“Yeah, I’m just looking for Maggie, wanted to let her know the kids are out,” Gloria smiles at him then glances around the room, “so what’s going on here?”

“Nothin’-” Daryl tries to speak but he’s interrupted by Rick.

“Shouldn’t she have a say in this?” Rick says, gesturing to Gloria.

Gloria furrows her brows in confusion, crossing her arms and leaning on the door, propping it open, “have a say in what?”

“We’re trying to decide who Sophia’s Godfather should be.” Aaron informs her.

“Godfather?” Gloria lets out a chuckle, amused, “let me guess, you all have amazing reasons for why we should pick you?”

“I’m a King!” Ezekiel exclaims.

“I saved your life,” Aaron reminds her.

“Daryl’s my brother.” Rick says matter-of-factly.

“Come on, you call me Jesus.” he says, giving Gloria a knowing look.

“Ya see what I had to deal with in the last hour?” Daryl groans.

She shakes her head as she lets out a laugh, “okay... Ezekiel, you’re gonna be too busy taking care of the Kingdom and looking after Henry. Aaron, as much as I am very appreciative of you saving my life, you have your hands full with Gracie, already. And Rick, being Daryl’s brother means you’re already her uncle. Plus, all of you are busy in your own communities anyway.”

Jesus looks at her with a grin, “does that mean I win?”

“I can’t say I don’t like calling you Jesus and being her Godfather. ” Gloria tells him.

As she speaks, the main door to the Barrington house opens and Maggie, Carol, Rosita, and Tara walk in. The women glance at each other as they see Gloria standing in the doorway of Maggie’s office, propping open the door with her body.

“What’s going on?” Maggie asks as she walks towards her office.

Gloria turns to look at Maggie, “the guys are fighting over who’s Sophia’s Godfather.”

“My bet’s on Jesus.” Tara chips in, “his name, it’s Jesus!”

“Thank you!” he exclaims from inside the room, then grins cheekily, “and you were about to name me Sophia’s Godfather before they walked in?”

“Well, no,” Gloria chuckles as he pouts, “I was about to say that you’re going to have to fight Carol on the Godparent position.”

Gloria had this conversation with the women before Sophia was born. Maggie and Gloria had an agreement that since they were directly Hershel’s and Sophia’s aunts, it wouldn’t be fair for the others to give each other the title. Maggie had appointed Tara as Hershel’s Godmother. Rosita was perfectly fine with being their aunt. Daryl was more than accepting of Carol being his child’s Godmother.

Rick, Jesus, and Aaron groan in disappointment, knowing that it was impossible to beat Carol in a fight, as Ezekiel grins happily, “oh glorious day! I have been named Godfather of the lovely Sophia Bethany Dixon! Haha!”

The others look at Ezekiel in confusion while Carol freezes at his words. Gloria glances over at Carol and notices her cheeks flushing a light pink. A grin spreads across Gloria’s face and her grin is noticed by the other women and they all turn to look at Carol. She looks at them nervously and fidgets, making the other women giggle.

“Congratulations, Carol.” Gloria chuckles, patting Carol’s arm.

She rolls her eyes playfully at her and smiles, “thank you, now if we can stop him from announcing it to the world, that would be nice.”

They laugh at her words as Ezekiel says his speech, announcing his relationship with Carol, earning a groan from her. Everyone except for Carol is immersed in Ezekiel’s poetic proclamation of love for her when a baby’s cry catches Maggie and Gloria’s attention.

“That’s Hershel,” Maggie says, instinctually heading towards the nursery, then a second cry can be heard.

“And he woke Sophia...” Gloria sighs as she follows Maggie into the nursery.

---

A few months have passed since Sohia was born. She is now able to sit up with some assistance as she plays in the nursery with Hershel beside her. Gloria sits on the other side of her in case Sophia loses her balance and falls. Maggie comes into the nursery with two bottles of formula and sits down on the ground beside her son.

“Here,” Maggie says, handing a bottle to Gloria, “just so they don’t whine when they’re hungry.”

She chuckles and nods, “thanks, we both know how impatient these two can get.”

Maggie smiles and hums in agreement as they watch their children. Hershel and Sophia were both busy playing with the toys in front of them. As the two of them reach for the same toy, Hershel reaches it first but lets go of it when Sophia grabs it and lets out a small whimper when she isn’t able to get it. Hershel watches her as she giggles when she is able to get the toy then he gently reaches over to her and pats her head. The sight of brotherly affection brings tears to Gloria’s eyes as Maggie smiles in awe at the two.

“Did you see that?” Maggie says, her voice full of delight.

Gloria nods, sniffling slightly as she tries to hold in her tears, “Yeah...”

Maggie looks over and her brows furrow in concern, “Gloria... what’s wrong? Talk to me.”

“Nothing... he just reminds me so much of Glenn...” she says with a soft tearful smile.

“There’s more to it than that,” Maggie reaches her hand out and holds Gloria’s, “there’s been something bothering you even before the war ended, don’t think I didn’t notice.”

Gloria looks at Maggie and sighs deeply, “I disappointed Glenn...”

Maggie frowns at this, “what makes you say that?”

“I let revenge, hate, and anger get to me, I killed a lot of people-” Gloria is cut off by Maggie.

“We were fighting a war, what did you expect?,” Maggie tells her.

“I became a cold hearted killer, Maggie...” Gloria lets out a breath, “I killed a lot of people on my own because I wanted all of the Saviors to die to avenge Glenn. I wanted them all dead so I did what I thought was right, I thought they were all bad people... but now I see they can be people we can even trust, like Alden, Laura... what if I killed people who didn’t deserve to die?”

“That’s the unfortunate thing about a war, people die. A lot of people die, even those who don’t deserve it, you were protecting what was yours, taking back what belongs to you. You did what you had to do.” Maggie tries to comfort her.

“What if I didn’t have to kill all those people? What if I only thought it was what I had to do because I was blinded by rage? What if I made the wrong choices?” Gloria says as a tear rolls down her cheek.

“Then you admit that you made a mistake,” Maggie reaches out and wipes the tear away, “admit that you made a mistake then fix it.”

“How? I killed a lot of people, Maggie... how do I fix that?” Gloria asks.

Maggie ponders for a moment then smiles softly, “do you remember back at the farm when I was mad at Glenn for telling everyone about the walkers in the barn?”

“How could I forget? You egged him.” Gloria says with a slight chuckle.

Maggie chuckles and nods, “I did, but then afterwards, you came up to me and gave me good reasons to give him a chance to explain himself. Did he ever tell you what he said to me?”

Gloria shakes her head, “he didn’t, and I never thought it was my business to ask.”

“He told me that he knows he screwed everything up with me by telling everyone about the barn, and that he knows there’s no going back in time to undo it, but he believes that he can make up for it by doing the right thing.” Maggie explains.

“That is such a Glenn thing to say...” Gloria chuckles, “do the right thing... how do I know what’s the right thing to even do?”

“I asked him the same thing when he said it, and can you guess what he said to me?” Maggie says.

Gloria ponders for a moment, “that his heart would know.”

Maggie widens her eyes in awe, not expecting Gloria to actually be able to guess, then smiles and nods, “exactly.”

Gloria smiles at Maggie then she looks at Hershel and Sophia as they share toys with each other. Sophia coos at Hershel as she hands him a building block and Hershel responds with a babble. Gloria’s heart had her answer, she’d start by properly raising Sophia and protecting her, making sure that she would know the right choices to make. That’s only the start but that’s how she would be able to make it up to Glenn.

---

“Hey, she’s almost a year old,” Gloria says over her shoulder as she sits on the bed with a notebook propped open.

“Already?” Daryl responds, sitting on the bed and leaning on the headboard with Sophia bouncing in his lap, “you’re growin’ so fast.”

“Mhm, today’s day three hundred and fifty,” Gloria says as she writes the number on the top of the page.

She’d been keeping a journal since the day that Sophia was born. Gloria wanted to be able to keep track of her daughter’s daily progression, and to make sure she didn’t lose track of her birthday; if the adults weren’t able to have a birthday, at least her daughter would be able to have one.

Sophia lets out a babble and points to Daryl’s face then begins to giggle. He raises his eyebrow at this and playfully eyes her.

“I think she’s laughin’ at me,” he says, earning a chuckle from Gloria, “are ya laughin’ at me? Huh? Ya laughin’ at yer dad?”

“Dada!” Sophia squeals.

Daryl freezes in place as Gloria snaps her head back to look at the two, “did she just... call you Dada?”

“I dunno...” he says in a whisper as he stares at her.

Gloria puts the book on the nightstand beside the bed then moves to sit beside Daryl, “Sophia, did you say Dada? Can you say that again?”

Sophia looks at her mom and blinks, letting out a few incoherent babbles. Gloria remembers that Harlan told her babies tend to babble things that sound like mommy or daddy when they’re around Sophia’s age but they might not have any recognition of what those sounds mean. She decides to test it; she waves her hand in front of Sophia to get her attention then points to Daryl.

“Dada!” she says again.

“You’re her first word!” Gloria exclaims happily.

Daryl grins and leans down to kiss her forehead, “knew ya were a daddy’s girl.”

“Don’t ruin the moment,” Gloria rolls her eyes playfully.

He chuckles then leans back as Sophia decides that she’s going to plop on Daryl and snuggle him, “Dada.”

Gloria smiles at the sight and kisses the top of Sophia’s head then moves up to kiss Daryl’s cheek. She adjusts herself so that she’s lying down beside him.

“I guess this is how you’re sleeping tonight?” Gloria says as she sees Sophia closing her eyes.

“Guess so.” Daryl says softly then carefully moves his arm to wrap around Gloria, pulling her close to him.

For the last two and a half years, life had been hectic for Daryl and Gloria to say the least. The outbreak that caused the end of the world was a blessing in disguise as they had only found each other after the world ended. Many would and have considered them an unpredictable couple, but together they fought through the odds. Whether it was fighting the walkers or the people who turned into monsters because of the outbreak, they would get through all of it together. They belong together. They are fated to be together.

---

This was literally just a chapter of pure fluff.... AND I LOVE IT. I couldn’t really think of a better way to end this series, but like I said before, this is only a temporary end! I have some ideas for the next seasons ^^

I want to say a huge THANK YOU to everyone who’s supported this story, from the bottom of my heart, thank you so so so so much for reading, commenting, liking, and just being there for me throughout this story. I love you all so much! You guys are the best!

Please let me know what you thought of this chapter, I always love hearing from you~!

Taglist (please let me know if you’d like to be added/removed!):

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prettyyoungandbored · 4 years ago

Text

Becoming Mrs. Wayne [The Dark Knight] Nine

Pairing: Christian Bale!Bruce Wayne x OC

Summary: Demetria Gallagher knew her cozy life would change the second she became engaged to Bruce Wayne. But what she doesn’t know is she’s getting more than what she agreed to. (I am trash at summaries.)

Warning: None

Taglist: dragonballluver, disgraceful-marvel-trash, barikawho, @claudiahxrdy (Let me know if you want to be tagged in this!)

Bruce’s fingers ran through Demetria’s black hair, tucking a strand behind her ear before his fingers slid softly down her jawline.

She was fast asleep, her head resting on his chest, their legs intertwined. Her breathing was gentle, heart beating slowly against his. Her jacket was draped over her like a blanket. His arms wrapped around her protectively.

After having their way with each other, they’d put their clothes back on with the intention of driving back home, but exhaustion overwhelmed them and instead they opted for sleeping on the floor.

Bruce felt relief wash over him, knowing that he didn’t have to hide from her nor did he lose her in the process. His eyes fell to her stitch on her forearm. The scar would forever be a reminder of his carelessness and he would never forgive himself for as long as lived.

Her eyes fluttered open, a tired smile forming on her lips.

“Morning,” she mumbled, nestling her head closer to him as she basked in the warmth of his body.

He kissed the top of her head, pulling her close to him. “How are you feeling?”

“Sore, but nothing some asprin can’t fix.”

“I have a bottle in the top right drawer. I also have aftercare stuff for stitches in my desk if you need it. I’ve had to stitch myself multiple times.”

She furrowed her eyebrows. “You do it yourself?”

“Alfred helps.”

She hummed. “I’m getting you a blanket to keep in here. Maybe a pillow too.”

He chuckled, his lips hovering over the top of her head. “I don’t need it.”

She lifted her head. “But I might.”

“Who says I’ll allow you back in here?” he teased.

“I can make myself very useful to you.”

“You’re always useful to me.”

She rolled her eyes, lying her head back down. “You know what I mean.”

His fingers circled her back as he rested his chin on top of her head. “Dem?”

“Yea?”

“Are all your panic attacks like that?”

She glanced up. “Like what?”

“Like how it was last night?”

She shook her head. “I’ve never had one that intense before. They vary in severity, but usually it’s manageable.”

He closed his eyes, cursing himself even more. He knew he should’ve been there. “What can I do for you when you have them?”

“Just ask me what I need,” she shrugged. “I’ll usually tell you if I want you there or if I want space.”

“You promise?”

“I do.” Her fingers reached toward his hair, running through it. “I appreciate you asking.”

She pecked his lips before stretching her arms carefully, aware of the stitch on her arm. “How the hell did we fall asleep on the floor?”

“I think we were both just were too tired to care.”

She got up, helping Bruce up off the ground. She threw on her jacket. “By the way, how the hell did you and Rachel survive that fall?”

He chuckled. “I’ve jumped off higher buildings. That was nothing.”

She cocked her head. “You live in a penthouse.”

“When you’ve been at it for as long as I have, you get used to it.”

“So you’re not going to tell me?”

He smirked, resting his hands on her forearms. “I don’t want you jumping off buildings.”

She scoffed playfully. “Fine, keep your secrets.” Then it dawned on her. “Speaking of which, does she know?”

“Rachel? Yeah, she does.”

“Anyone else?”

“Lucius Fox. He helps come up with the tools and the Batsuit. All this you see in here is his handy work. As for Rachel, I rescued her a long time ago.”

Demetria nodded understandingly. Bruce put his hands on her hips, pulling her close to him. “I should’ve told you sooner. I just wanted to protect you.”

She gently grabbed his hands. “Be honest with me here, were you really ever going to tell me?”

“I was hoping I could step down before we got married so that I could tell you when it was over so you wouldn’t worry. I realize now how foolish that was.” He paused. “I threw the fundraiser for Harvey because I believe he’s what Gotham needs and deserves. He’s better than Batman. I want him to continue so that the Batman can leave and I can begin my life with you.”

She couldn’t bring herself to be too mad at him, realizing his intentions were nothing but good. She also cursed herself for ever doubting him.

“Well first, know that the right time to tell me anything is when it happens,” she told him. “Second, don’t get me wrong, what Harvey’s done for the city is great but he’s not you. You should be proud for what you’ve done for the city.” She pressed the palm of her hand against his cheek. “I want you to know that if you don’t want to give up Batman, that’s ok. If you feel like you’re done, then that’s ok too. What I don’t want is to be the reason behind your decision.”

He shook his head. “You’re always my reason. Demetria, you’re everything to me.”

Her lips curved into a small grateful smile. “Just know I’m here and I’m proud of you and that you’ll always be my hero.”

‘I’m proud of you.’ Four words filled him with a sense of security he hadn’t felt in a long time. No, he never searched for glory or praise when it came to his Batman or personal duties, but Demetria’s support meant the absolute world to him. He knew his luck and he’d be damned if he pushed it any further.

“I love you,” he mumbled, his thumb wiping her bottom lip.

Her hands moved to wrap around the back of his neck and his hands wrapped her cheeks. “I love you too.”

He leaned forward, his breath hitting her lips for a moment before his lips brushed up against hers.

His kiss was gentle, but with meaning, just like his declaration. If both had their choice in life, they would choose to stay in the moment forever. To stay trapped in the most meaningful kiss that made the world and its problems around them disappear.

Demetria slowly pulled back and rest her head on his chest as his hand rubbed her back. Her eyes shifted over to the computer screens, curiosity filling her eyes.

“So what exactly is this for?” she questioned, motioning her head toward it.

Bruce looked at the computers. “Helps with tracking.”

“Tracking what?”

“Anything and everything.”

She turned her head to him. “Including me?”

His hands were shoved in his pockets, slight embarrassment painting his expression. “Two times. Tops.”

She leaned forward, a playful smirk on her lips. “You’ve spied on me twice? When?”

“First time was the anthrax scare.”

“And the other?

“Huge drug deal happening in the basement of your apartment building.

She hummed, the memory coming back to her. “Ah, yeah. That was a fun time.” Her eyes then widened. “Wait a minute. You called me that night...and you...you asked-.”

“For you to spend the night,” he finished. He nodded. “I wanted to make sure you were safe.”

“So that's why you made me stay at your place for the entire weekend?”

He cracked a smile. “Made you? I seem to recall you not fighting me on it.”

“I just thought you were needy.” She looked back over at the computers. “Would you teach me how to use the system?”

“Why?”

“I want to help you.”

His smile faded. “Demetria, I told you I don’t-.”

“I’m already involved, Bruce. Besides, I’ll stay in here and this is a safe enough space for me. Plus, I worked in journalism. I know how to dig deep and find out things.”

“I thought your job was to get people on shows?”

“We had to do background checks and in-depth research.” She put her hands on his shoulders. “Look, I can’t jump off buildings or fight, but I can help with hacking and with research and that’s just as useful to your work as the physical stuff is. Think of it as me

Bruce couldn’t bring himself to fight her. She’d had a point - she was already involved. She was also helpful with the tip from last night. Maybe she could be an asset.

“How do you know to hack?” he questioned, cracking a tiny smile.

“I know people,” she shrugged casually.

He shook his head. “We’ll try it on a trial basis.”

She perked up, her smile widening. “I promise I won’t disappoint.”

“I see you now know our little secret, Miss Gallagher.”

Demetria and Bruce looked over to see Alfred carrying two to-go coffee cups. He made his way to the couple, offering the first cup to Demetria.

“You’re a lifesaver, again,” Demetria thanked him as she took the coffee. She took a sip, the taste of caffeine, half-and-half, and sugar welcoming her.

She watched as Alfred set down the other cup on the desk as Bruce turned the computer systems. Suddenly, the pitch black screens turned to looped videos of The Joker. From security cam footage to his video from yesterday, his presence graced the screen and caused shivers to go down Demetria’s spine.

The memory of the way The Joker’s eyes pierced in to her in the moments before he slashed her flashed in her head. She exhaled, shaking it off so Bruce wouldn’t see.

Just when a distraction was needed, her phone rang. She dug into her jacket pocket to find it was her mom calling.

“Oh shit,” she mumbled.

She walked to the other side of the Bat Cave and pressed the green button. “Hey Mom.”

“Thank god you’re alright! I had Henry calling me at midnight in hysterics, saying you were attacked and hospitalized - I could barely sleep last night!”

“I know I should’ve called-.”

“Thank god for Alfred! Alfred called me from the hospital to keep me and Henry updated. He even called this morning to say you were sleeping in and that he and Bruce had you taken care of.”

Demetria made a mental note to thank him for keeping her mother at bay.

“And Bruce! My god, the poor thing!” her mother went on. “I mean, he got lucky he was only locked in the closet, but it could’ve been so much worse. Thank god the rat guy came in when he did.”

“His name is Batman, Mom.”

“ I called Harvey to check on him and he said Rachel was attacked too?”

“Yeah, The Joker threw her out the window-.”

“Oh my god! Oh my god!”

“Mom, she’s fine. Batman saved her.”

She leaned her head back, closing her eyes. This was the absolute last thing she needed.

“That’s it! I’m coming in tonight.”

Demetria’s eyes widened. “Absolutely not! You are not coming to Gotham!”

“Demetria, do not fight me on this!”

“Mom, I need you to stay where you are. Now is not the time to come here.”

“I need you to be safe.”

“I am safe. They’re increasing security at Bruce’s place as we speak.”

“What about Harvey?”

“He’s untouchable. He’s going to be fine.”

Her mother sighed in defeat. “Alright, but I want a phone call everyday. You hear me?”

“Yes, Mom.”

“And if this continues, I want you, Bruce, and Alfred on your way here or I’m coming in.”

“Fair enough. I promise everything’s gonna be ok. Just do me a favor and keep Henry calm and updated. I’ll call him later.”

“I will. I love you.”

“Love you too.”

Demetria hung up, shoving the phone back into her pocket. She made her way back to Bruce and Alfred who were staring at the monitors.

“Targeting me won’t get their money back,” Bruce said, his eyes glued to The Joker’s face on screen. “I knew the mob wouldn’t go down without a fight, but this feels different. They’ve crossed a line.”

“You crossed a line first, sir,” Alfred pointed out. “You squeezed them, you hammered them to the point of desperation and in their desperation, they turned to a man they didn’t fully understand.”

Bruce turned away from the monitors. “Well, criminals aren’t complicated, Alfred. We just need to figure out what he’s after.”

The case that held his Batsuit rose from the ground as Bruce stared at it.

“With respect Master Wayne, perhaps this is a man you don't fully understand either,” Alfred suggested. He made his way toward Bruce, Demetria watching him. “A long time ago, I was in Burma, my friends and I were working for the local government. They were trying to buy the loyalty of the tribal leaders by bribing them with precious stones. But their caravans were being raided in a forest north of Rangoon by a bandit. So we went looking for the stones. But in six months, we never met anyone who traded with him.One day I saw a child playing with a ruby the size of a tangerine. The bandit had been throwing them away. “So why steal them?” Bruce asked with a slight shrug.

“Because he thought it was good sport. Because some men aren't looking for anything logical, like money. They can't be bought, bullied, reasoned or negotiated with. Some men just want to watch the world burn.”

As Alfred walked away, Bruce and Demetria looked up at the screen at the Joker’s face.

============================================

Back at the penthouse, Demetria sat in the living room watching GCN’s coverage of the deaths of Police Commissioner Gillian B. Loeb and Judge Janet Surillo. Both were murdered - one poisoned, the other blown up in her own car. Both deaths were believed to have been conducted by The Joker and by the city’s mobs.

She couldn’t help but wonder if what had happened to her last night was premeditated. One of the henchmen singled her out to The Joker, referring to her simply as “her.” Perhaps she was on the list for round one of victims.

It dawned on her that by confirming her friendship with Harvey in her editorial, she set herself up to be a target.

She shut off the TV and began pacing the room. What if the orphanage was next or GCN? What if they were going to blow up her old apartment building with everyone in it? What if they were going to try again?

She cursed herself for writing that damn thing. If only she had just let it go, she wouldn’t have gotten herself involved.

She ran her hand through her hair, when she turned her head over to see her laptop.

That’s when she thanked God she was smart enough to befriend some of the IT people and researchers at GCN.

She grabbed her cell phone and went through her contacts, before finding the name she needed. She dialed the number.

“Harvey, are you at the office?”

“Yeah, is everything ok? Are you alright?”

“Is Grace at the office?”

“Of course.”

“I need you to let go on an errand for me.”

*********************************************************************************

That night in the Batcave, as Bruce suited up in his Batman outfit, Demetria sat at the desk setting up her new laptop.

“And what exactly did you tell Harvey you needed a new laptop for?”

“I spilled water on mine,” she answered, her eyes not leaving the computer. She clicked a key. “There we go! Now if you need me to hack into a place, I’m ready to go. I’m also logged into the scanner and can hear everything, but that’s not as fun.”

“How do you know which security cameras the buildings use?”

“Most places have the same system,” Demetria explained. “At least that’s what I was taught.”

“Looks like I wasn’t the only one keeping secrets,” Bruce noted.

She furrowed her eyebrows. “There’s a difference between my limited knowledge of hacking and you being Batman.”

He kissed the top of her head. “Are you going to be ok in here?”

“I have a blanket and pillow and I’m wearing my favorite sweatpants so I would say so.” She eyed his computers. “I’m still working on figuring out those systems but I should be ok.”

His hand touched her cheek. “It won’t always be like this. Soon, you’ll have me all to yourself in bed all night.”

“And I cannot wait, but for now, focus on getting home safe and without a scratch.”

“For you, absolutely.”

He put on his cowl when Demetria said,” “Scanner is already reporting a shooting at West Point apartment on 78th. Gotham PD is on their way. Checking for security footage now to see if it’s the Joker.” She looked over her shoulder. “Better move along.”

#bruce wayne x oc #bruce wayne imagine #batman #batman imagine #batman fanfic #the dark knight #the dark knight fanfiction #christian bale #christian bale x reader #bruce wayne fanfiction #bale!batman #the joker

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alecxaheart · 4 years ago

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Someone's Someone | Bang Chan Oneshot (2)

✎ Genre : CEO AU, Soulmate AU, Fluff

✎ Pairings : Bang Chan X Reader

✎ Word Count : 5.5k words

✎ Synopsis : We all just wanna be someone's someone that we can't live without. At this time, Chan was looking for his. And unexpectedly, he was already tied down to someone.

✎ Warnings : Explicit Language

✎ Parts : 1 , 2

" Let's just part ways here, " Saying those words felt a bit disheartening at some point, yet you chose to disregard it.

You walked forwards, while Chan stayed in his position, wearing his coat and fixing his tie. Although, something stopped you. As in you couldn't go forwards as much as you force to. Well when you did force yourself, it only tugged Chan towards you. Turning around, he was already eyeing you. " What was that for?! "

Glaring at the thread, you thought out loud, " Is this string telling me, it can only stretch itself approximately at 7 meters?! "

Twin buildings towered above you two, heavy work's shouting for the both of you. You suddenly feel so small when you found out who this dude was in the company. Either way, you stepped inside the building next to him as if you're supposed to be. You don't have any other choice though unless you wanna be dragged by this buff guy and look like a fool rolling around since the thread is invisible to the public.

" I'm surprised that you don't know who I am, " He stated as you entered the elevator with him. You could tell how much of a fuss this is already when you walked in those doors alongside him.

" Does it really have to be my fault when I only started working here a few months ago, Mr. CEO? " He responded with a chuckle.

" It's Mr. Bang, well, at work. You can call me Chan when we're not. I don't like such formality and bringing work on my rest hours. "

" Oh, so you're that Mr. Bang. The one I hid from last night, " You whispered the last sentence.

" Pardon? " The elevator chimed as you reached your floor, opening its doors swiftly.

" It's.. It's nothing, " You stuttered and hastily stepped out of the elevator while Chan followed. " Why are we on my floor again? Isn't yours like, at the very top floor just to have that stunning view of the world or something? "

" Seems like some fanfiction you got there for me, " He chuckled first while you lowered your head in embarrassment. " But no, my office is at the opposite building, about two or three levels above yours which means it's the middle floor. In addition to that, I have to discuss matters with your boss due to some adjustments that we have over here, " He brought up his thumb to your view, talking about the red string. " Just hand over the documents then wait for me outside by the door, copy? " Chan explained as he stopped in front of a dark oak door, knocking on it three times.

" Adjustments? What- "

" Come in, " The voice on the other side of the door called out. You could've had a short session of hesitations first but this Bang Chan just opens the door widely and gives off such superior vibes that gave you the chills - like he should 'cause he's the CEO, he freaking owns the place. You did wonder why you haven't been fired yet after every informalities you've shown to him. What a great first impression you got there for a Chief Executive Officer, you're never gonna get a promotion to get out of this trashy position.

The surprising entrance of the uninvited and unexpected guest caught your boss off-guard. " Ah! G-Good morning, Mr. Bang! " Ms. Kang frantically stood up and bowed, her phone slipping off of her hands and onto the desk. Looking up, she saw you behind Chan, your hand fidgeting around the strap of your bag while head held down. " And Ms... (Y/N)? " She questioned as she averted her eyes back to Chan.

" Pardon me although I won't be here for long, I'm only handing you the documents like you instructed, Ms. Kang. " You said while handing her the documents. She took a quick scan on it before she gestured you to leave. Following Chan's instructions, you wait by the door as soon as you've shut it. Trying your best to not let curiosity get the best of you and eavesdrop, you distracted yourself by scrolling through your phone and jamming to some Monsta X's songs.

" May I ask what business brought you here to my office? "

" I'd like to compromise. "

It wasn't long that you've thought about getting fired and promotions, not even hours had passed.

Yet here you are, promoted and working as the CEO's assistant on that very day like it's the only choice. Standing on the polished marble floors, opposite side of the building, in his high-class office. It was spacious enough to fit two office desks and a lounge (probably for coffee breaks or small meetings) yet grand-looking with the accent walls and chandelier. The smell of lavender and the nice fluorescent glow it had made it better. Speaking of glow, you suddenly missed Kim Seungmin, the only co-worker friend you got. His bright presence who would constantly bother you from time to time during work hours. You can't really pinpoint whether he is an angel or demon with that fact because most likely you're the one being scolded instead of him. He better be jealous by the time he finds out you're now a CEO's Assistant.

" Ms. Kang got what she wished for in exchange for you getting the 2nd best achievable seat in the company, " Chan continued to elaborate the discussion in the room where it happened as he took a seat, not even bothering to help you fix your new desk if he was a gentleman. Honestly, it's undeniably comfortable being around this man despite you only got acquainted with him this day.

" Seriously? Can't you just promote me with a snap of your fingers? " You whined, arranging all of your things out from the container.

" Maybe if I had the infinity stones, " He first joked and you're not taking it. " Although it's Ms. Kang, there's an exchange for everything with her, " He casually said, looking through his emails with his chin resting on his fist.

" I- " Learn to shut your pesky little mouth, (Y/N). Your own conscience just sealed your mouth from babbling nonsense.

Well, let's think about the bright side. First up, you're promoted, meaning you'll get a way higher pay than before. Second, you're free from Ms. Kang's grasp. Third, Chan seems like a nice and chill boss. If your impression on him will be proven wrong, in any way he couldn't be as worse as Ms. Kang 'cause so far he saved your butt and doesn't mind your attitude.

" Ah, right. You're staying at my house for the meantime, " The book you're trying to place on the top shelf just fell on your head, making you lose your balance and fall to the ground. The loud thump made Chan glance at you, preventing himself from laughing. With your head aching and vision uneven, you tried to process what he said.

" What did you say? " Chan stood up from his chair and made his way towards you.

" I said you're staying at my house until we figure out how to break this thread off, " He answered as he offered a hand for you to take. This simple action made you tense, feeling your face heating up. You gladly took it with weak legs, though you eventually got back to your own feet without his support.

" Yours? Why not mine? I bet it's closer to work than yours. "

" You got a lot of complaints, I hope you know that. "

" No I'm not! Just.. talkative, " You bluffed, pouting. " And fine, your house then. Mine's probably not as presentable as yours anyway. "

This is the red string of fate that kept you two together the whole time, knotted around one another's finger securely. Both of you share the same thoughts while sitting on the couch in the living room of Chan's luxurious penthouse. It did offer extravagant views of Seoul from the top of the apartment, making everything feel so surreal. Could it possibly be malfunctioning? It's supposed to stretch out without limitations as well as it'll be invisible to the naked eye including yours, according to the tales and legends you've heard as a child. Most importantly, how could you break it off?

" Maybe this had to do something with the child, " Chan thought to himself, legs crossed and eyes trained down to the floor. " You cleared our schedule for the week, correct? " He looked towards you, catching your gaze on him.

" Yes, I did. Why? " You couldn't help but be enchanted in his brown eyes. It did look brighter in the sunset than before as the sunlight kissed his face. You wanted to take a closer look at it as to what it may hold within those orbs.

" You know the child back in the train? The one who placed this string of fate around our fingers? " With those words, you were snapped back into reality.

" Child? No? I was asleep, remember? " You looked away and a dog's appearance caught your attention, feeling soft and in 'awe' for it immediately. It had some large brown spots on its white fur, fluffy and has this wavy ears. It looks quite similar to that dog named 'Lady' in "Lady and the Tramp". Noticing that it was really friendly even with strangers, you patted its head lightly as it neared you. Chan witnessed you bond with his partner, smiling. The dog was ecstatic to make new friends with you that it jumped to your lap. Giggling, you ruffled its fur and kissed its forehead. " Seems like you're well loved, baby~ " You cooed, booping its nose.

" She's Berry, by the way. " Chan informed you while watching you play with berry's paws.

" I have to say, she's the cutest, " You flashed a beaming smile at him, eyes forming into crescents. Chan couldn't do anything but smile back, his heart slowly melting at the scene in front of him. You caught the sight of his dimples, which made you think that it's now one of your favorite features he has. If everyday's like this, it'd be such a bliss. Yet you know it'll somehow be just another memory you'll treasure since there will be an end to this.

Back to reality, Chan further tells you the details of the occurrences while you were sleeping. " Ah, right. About the child. If my memory serves me correct, he was blonde headed and had ocean blue-like eyes. He's about 4'6 feet in height and the one who placed this thread around our fingers. When I tried to run after him, he just vanished into thin air. "

" You sure you're not being delusional? " You carefully placed berry down on the couch then made your way to the kitchen.

" Positive. " He replied while petting his companion, who's getting some rest first, before following you. You asked him what his plans were, wrapping your fingers around the refrigerator handle. Opening it, you scanned for available foods due to your stomach being upset in this whole conversation. There's a lot of goods, especially meat. You're assuming that this man eats a lot even when he's on his own. While you were busy with that, Chan thinks of an itinerary for the whole week to get your own lives back. Until, his deep thoughts were interrupted by you.

" How about we eat dinner first so then you can plan properly, hm? You want steak? " You asked, placing the ingredients you need right in front of his view. His eyes just twinkled before you and were already on the raw steak, famished.

" Chris wants steak, please! " Enthusiastically said by Chris, giggling afterwards.

" Steak coming right up just for Chris! " He responded with a small clap, smiling ear to ear. You have to be honest, your first meeting with him is just the worst than any other possible happenings to you two's first meeting. Yet you're satisfied that at least you met him in some way that brought you closer, especially with this string of fate. And today's gonna be a long night for the both of you.

It's very late at night yet your body wouldn't let you rest despite Chan giving you his whole king-sized bed while he sleeps on his divan couch a few meters away, or so you thought he's fast asleep. Although the comforter, mattress, pillows, just the bed as a whole is definitely a 5-star, you can't really sleep easily in someone else's home that you just met. Minutes that felt like hours passed, your eyes were blankly staring at the ceiling. The silence was quite dreadful for you usually at night, which is what you get for watching a fairly ton of horror movies. With a few sessions of hesitations, you decided to break it by calling Chan first. " Psst. Hey Chan. Who designed your house? "

After a short pause, you received a fade sound of shifting and a groan. " A friend of mine. His name's Hyunjin. Why do you ask? " He responded, staring at the same ceiling as you. Arms resting behind his head.

You laid down on your stomach then propped your chin on your hands, facing him. " Is he cute? "

" Seriously, (Y/N)? " He deadpanned. " Also he's already Changbin's anyway so I suggest you stay away unless you want a death wish. "

" Okay, Okay. Chill. I'm just asking, " You rolled your eyes. " I just can't sleep. "

" I already offered you the best bed there is. " Chan looked at your direction and glared.

" It's not that. It's from the fact that I can't fall asleep easily in a stranger's house, that's for sure, " You shifted again in the soft cream cotton bed, letting your body sink. It's like you're laying on a relieving cloud in the heavens.

" We've already passed the stranger level. Let's say we're acquaintances. "

" That doesn't make any such difference especially to my problem but okay. " You pouted.

A long pause surrounded the room, the chills slowly creeping on to your skin. You covered your whole body with the warm comforter, feeling the slumber visiting you little by little. A yawn escaping your lips and eyes getting droopy. Pondering for a second before you let yourself sleep, you took a last glance towards Chan. " Are you cold? " You asked when you saw him without any blankets. He responded with a hum.

" A little bit. But I'll be alright, don't worry, " He yawned, eyes getting heavy as he slowly visited dreamland. " Goodnight, (Y/N). "

However, before you reply, you silently get off the bed when you're sure Chan's too tired to even open his eyes again. Making your way around the room with tippy toes until you found what you needed. You've gone over to his divan couch where he occupies it, placing the blanket you found on top of his and Berry's body, who happen to be sleeping peacefully right next to him. With a weak smile, you finally greeted him back before heading back to the bed and your slumber, " Goodnight Chan, Berry. Sweet dreams. "

Almost afternoon came but none of you decided to rise and shine, except for Berry who's starting to get hungry. It was indeed past her usual breakfast time and she doesn't seem to like the sound of having 'brunch'. So then to get what she needed, she has to be the doggo clock for today.

Berry starts barking the best that she could although it didn't make any much effect, Chan only responded by covering his ears and turning away while you stayed unbothered in your deep sleep. She proceeds to hop back on Chan's couch and licks his face, surely an effective way. He immediately flinched at the wet contact and moved Berry's face away from his, slowly opening his eyes to meet an adorable face smiling at him. " Good morning to you too, " He replied followed with a yawn.

The King Charles Spaniel dog makes her way out of the room after accomplishing step one. While Chan took his time before completely getting out of bed - or rather, couch. With a few stretches and after taking a glance at the time, he made his way out of the room to make breakfast. He glanced towards your sleeping figure. Mumbling a silent, " Thank you. " for what you've done to him in the middle of the night before carefully closing the door behind him.

Before he could even reach the kitchen, a tug from his thumb stopped him in his tracks. Chan forgot that the string of fate only has a length of 7 meters. Sighing, he went back to you and thankfully found you still fast asleep.

Chan sat down on the edge of the bed, your back facing him. Once more, his dark brown eyes gazed upon your sleeping beauty state underneath the sunlight. Once more, he admired this mesmerizing view of you for a good few seconds. He lightly tapped your shoulder, causing you to shift your body to face him while responding with a hum. " Good morning, it's time to rise and shine, " He greeted in his husky morning voice, unknowingly smiling sweetly at you. You replied with a groan, covering your whole body with the comforter. " C'mon, let's go and have breakky. "

" You should've woken me up when breakfast is ready, " You whined, your voice muffled underneath the comforter. Chan chuckled then pulled down the comforter away from your face, " I would've if it wasn't for this string. Now come on. ". You groaned, feeling defeated. Sitting up on the bed, you opened your eyes to meet Chan's face filled with softness and joy. Seeing that first thing in the morning made you smile. It was lovely.

A loud bark from outside of the room interrupted, assuming that Berry's dying of hunger. You instinctively hopped off the bed and hastily made your way to Berry, Chan followed suit. At the kitchen, you both found Berry sitting in front of her food bowl, whimpering. " Oh no, the baby's hungry, " You cooed as you knelt down to pet her. " Chan, you can start making our breakfast, " He followed your instruction, putting on an apron and started preparing you two's breakfast.

" Where's her food, by the way? "

" Are you sure we're gonna find him here? " You questioned, walking a little behind Chan at the same train station yesterday. His strides were big and quite fast which made it difficult for you to keep up at his pace. To the point that your eyes were set on the floor where you have a clear view of you two's feet. You're trying to match his pace but you immediately get worned out and fall behind once more. You guessed it was a CEO thing.

" Well, did you see him in any other places? " You fell silent, continuing to keep up with his pace. The fact that you've been asleep during that time and missed the chance to see who's behind this string of fate hit you. Chan's considered lucky to be awake and witness it.

Chan took a glance behind him to see your reaction, only to find you struggling to match with his settled pace. As soon as he noticed it, he slowed down and matched his pace with yours. Confused, you looked up at him. There were no signs of annoyance or pity on his face, and that made you delighted. What a considerate guy.

It wasn't that long until you both got in the train. The two of you sat down next to each other on a vacant bench and let the train lightly sway you as it starts moving. There was a comfortable silence lingering in the train car as you waited for this child to come into your view. Fortunately, the train's not as crowded as you thought it would be so it would be easier for you to spot the child.

After 3 more stops, you started to get distracted. Your eyes boring onto the view of the opposite window side. Chan kept cautious in his surroundings, still having high hopes of seeing the child's appearance. He didn't realize how much time had already passed and sooner or later, they'll reach the last stop. On the other hand, you slowly began to get drowsy. It's probably because you're sleep deprived for the past few weeks, over-working yourself since that Ms. Kang came into your life. You let your head rest on Chan's shoulder unconsciously which surprised him. With that, Chan first made sure you were comfortable, setting aside the thought of needing to meet the child. He hesitated first, though he did ended up wrapping his arm around you and kept you close to him. Feeling relaxed and secured, you shut your eyes as you slept in his warm embrace.

Chan noticed how much exhausted you are during the time he's been with you. He may not know exactly how tough your previous boss was to you, but it did show a huge impact on you. He thought that you looked so fragile underneath his touch, and he greatly feared the moment you might break. So he made sure to be careful with you. But other than that, he felt the urge - the need or wanting to protect you at that moment. He did questioned why, out of all people, he felt it from and because of you.

Maybe, it's because you looked so exquisite especially under the sunlight. Maybe, it's because he thought you looked adorable and amusing at the same time when you whine or complain. Maybe, it's because you're motherly especially to Berry.

Maybe, he just caught feelings for you. That's why he's questioning " why you? ", it was already love.

Unfortunately for the both of you, you never got to encounter the mysterious child once more. Days have already passed, it has been almost a week. Yet to you and Chan's dismay, no signs of the boy at all. The both of you began to lose hope and just give up. Especially you.

You felt guilty for being the least focused between the two of you, leaving Chan more responsibilities. Find the mystic child and to look out for you. You weren't really in the best shape right now, Chan knew that. You easily got tired, tend to oversleep, and you're hella pale, which you knew well that it isn't so you. " I'm sorry, " You mumbled weakly, your legs crossed and back lean on the couch pillows. Trying to not lay down and sleep more since you did just woke up from a faint.

Hearing this, Chan head over to you then immediately refused. " No, no, no. It's alright, no need to apologize. Just focus on getting better right now, okay? " You replied with a small nod, his warm hands were on yours. That simple touch always made your blood color your cheeks and feel so shy. He went back to the kitchen to continue preparing your dinner as soon as he is satisfied with your answer. In the mean time, Berry made sure to keep you busy and entertained.

While Chan's dicing some pork on a cutting board, he took a glance at the red string wrapped around his thumb. He noticed a small difference to it ever since the first day you both tried to look for the child. It had more of a faint color red, losing its opaqueness. Almost like it's about to vanish which is at some point is a good thing. Though it still has its limitations for length and never broke at your own will. He wondered if you have noticed it as well. What would it be like to be back on your own lives? Chan would be lying if he managed to picture that when he felt disheartened just at the thought of it. He got used to your small complaints, you baby talking and spoiling his dog, needing to be taken care of - when you're unable to do it yourself, even the pocket knife in your bag, that he couldn't imagine you being gone. You did became apart of his life afterall and that left him thinking of making you stay. Chan already figured that he's starting to like you back then on the train, 1st day of hunting down the child.

Which got him pondering. Concluding to a theory that maybe, this string of fate isn't going to vanish. It was only starting to get invisible to your naked eye, just like what you originally thought it would function. But it will always be there no matter what. This string of fate just happens to be more translucent the more you both realize how much you love each other.

Chan tore his gaze away from the string, switching to your pale figure in the living room. Once he knew he could leave the food cooking for a while, he grabbed a glass of water and went back to you. " You like that friend of yours, huh? " You referred to Berry's favorite dog plush. Seeing Chan in your peripheral vision, you locked eyes with him. Beaming him the sweetest smile you could muster which he instantly returned. He offered you the drink and you gladly took it into your hands. Taking a sip, you could feel Chan's eyes burning through your skin. Heat rushes to your face just by that. It's frustrating how you're so easy when he's by your side and only with him. Frequently getting the butterflies, timid, blushy, heart racing, distracted by how ethereal he is, and everything related. And you completely denied your feelings for him.

Chan took a seat beside you, now looking at the pitch black night sky out of his window walls. Those dark brown orbs showed a hint of disappointment. Following his gaze, you figured out the reason. The sky's literally pitch black, starless. As well as the moon being nowhere in sight. The melancholic sight did brought a frown to your face and you couldn't stand it. Looking back at him, you realized that there's no need for you to be crestfallen. In fact, you should be in awe.

It seems like Chan took and held the whole galaxy in his eyes that's why the night sky is empty. His eyes twinkling and shining in the darkness. Many must've envied him for that and it feels so surreal to witness it in by your very own eyes. To have it in front of you. And maybe, just maybe.

You do like Bang Chan.

" Where the hell are you taking me, Chan?! " You quietly panicked as Chan led you to an unfamiliar forest. Just the thought of the crawlies present in places like this made you shudder. " D-Do you really think the child would be brave enough to be here when I am already cowering in fear just looking at this? "

" We're not here for that child, " He chuckled at your state, continuing to walk ahead of you and deeper into the woods. Your wary eyes stayed restless, darting from left to right. " We're here to just relax. " Chan's voice began to echo the farther he is away from you.

You started to get pissed at how he started being inconsiderate and how relaxed he is right now, that's definitely not what you know about him. " What the fuck are you talking about?! So we're just wasting our ti- " The sudden raise of your voice resulted a noise in the forest - sounded like a bird flapping its wings. The sound made you flinch then you picked up your pace to get to him. You tugged onto Chan's jacket which caused him to stop and look back to you. " Chan, please, let's just go home. " You hushly pleaded from behind him, your head hung low in fear and embarrassment.

Sighing, Chan held both of your hands in his. Rubbing circles on it for you to ease up. The both of you still connected by the string of fate, which looks like it's bound to vanish soon. He also noticed how you're short in breath. " Easy, easy. Take deep breaths with me, yeah? " You matched his breathing with yours, eventually loosening up in his warmth like always. You just felt so safe and secure when you're with him. " Let's proceed? I promise you that when we get there, it'll be worth it. " He reassured, never leaving his grip on you.

" Chan.. " You whimpered and Chan instantly hushed you.

" If it makes you feel better, I'll never let go of you, " Oh how you wished that'll last forever. " Sounds good? " You nodded hesitantly.

With that, you let Chan lead you towards his destination. The comfort of his hands wrapped around yours never left on the way just like he promised. It wasn't too long until you saw light at the end of the forest. You could hear faint sounds of waves meeting the seashore and birds singing a melody. The fear you had a while ago slowly washed away as you're nearing the place.

Reaching the light, you witnessed the jaw dropping sight of the beach on the other side of the fence. Like Chan said, it is promising and worth it. He guided you in hopping onto an enormous boulder to get to the other side and you didn't complain, you're too drawn into the beach. In excitement, you went ahead of Chan, letting go of his grasp. Your feet immediately ushering you to the seashore where you could feel the cold water at your toes. As soon as you got here, you felt like you were cleansed. As if the sea took every problem, worries and fears away from you. It was healing and just the thought of it made you smile unknowingly. You never knew you needed this until now, it has been years since the last time you've been this carefree.

On the other hand, Chan's seated at his usual place. Where he could take in the whole view. Now that you were apart of it, everything seemed to set into place for his secret escapade paradise. All felt just right. The way you dance with the waves, moving with the sea, completely letting the rhythm of the water set yourself free. Plus the wind blowing your hair, your face glowing underneath the sun, how blinding your smile was at that moment, he cherished it all. " Perfect with no reasons, " Chan thought out loud as his eyes were trained on you. Unbeknownst to him, it was loud enough for you to hear it clearly.

" Perfect? " You questioned, making your way to his side. His eyes widened, alarmed. Chan looked away without hesitation. The tip of his ears starting to turn red in embarrassment. You sat down next to him, knowing that you'll be bringing some sand in your pockets back home. Noticing his ears, you let out a hearty laugh. " Aww, look at you! "

" I know, I know, " He started, covering his ears. " I'm helpless. "

" Huh? What are you talking about? " You asked while tilting your head to the side in confusion. There was a short pause, only the sound of waves continuously ringing in the area could be heard. As well as the sound of leaves rustling while the wind whispers sweet nothings to it and palm trees swaying from side to side.

" Like- "

" If this is you doubting yourself again, gosh Chan you're not the helpless one between the two of us. " You pointed out with your arms crossed. " You're a CEO of a well known company! Plus, who took care of me? You. Who saved my ass from Ms. Kang? You. Who just comforted me a while ago? You. You are never incapable or weak. If anyone told you otherwise, I- "

" I'm helplessly in love with you is what I meant, (Y/N)! " Chan confessed, now facing you.

Then, the thread in your fingers entirely loosened without any of you knowing.

The two of you locked eyes for a minute. Both surprised by everything, especially you. The wind did whisper something to the two of you, too. Yet it's difficult to figure it out at the moment. Even in broad daylight, his eyes still held the whole galaxy. And you could never let that dim.

" You walked into my life as if you've always lived there, like my heart was a home built just for you, " Chan continued, his hand already searching for yours. Looking down at your now intertwined hands, eyes filled with pure love and adoration. " It fits just like a glo- "

Perfect with no reasons.

Chan was taken by surprise at your sudden answer. You cutted him off, attaching your lips to his. Your free hand finding itself cupping his face. He then passionately responded to the kiss, his arm snaking its way around your waist to keep you close - now that the string of fate is invisible and endless. The kiss resulted you to feel so lightheaded. The softness of his lips brought you to euphoria, everything just felt so right in place. In the end, both of you were left breathless. You couldn't do anything for a few seconds after, keeping your eyes closed with mouth agape of you to try let your mind process what just happened.

You did't need for him to explain or give you anymore reasons why he loves you. The string of fate has always been the answer, reason and explanation to your love. Ever since the beginning, you and Chan are destined to meet regardless of the time, place or circumstances. It may stretch or tangle but nothing could break it and never will. You're one another's someone's someone who you can't live without.

End.

144 notes · View notes

watchmegetobsessed · 4 years ago

Text

Serendipity - Part I. (Harry Styles)

a/n: i am BEYOND excited to share this story with you guys! i’ve been working on it for over a month now if not more and what started as just a oneshot, slowly grew into this massive fic. i really hope you’ll love the story of Harry and Lis bc im obsessed with them haha. please feel free to share your thoughts and reactions about the chapter and the fic itself!

pairing: Harry x OC (Annalise Lloyd)

word count: 8k

SERIES MASTERPOST ⚫️ my masterlist ⚫️ come and talk to me about Serendipity! ⚫️ consider buying me a coffee!

Serendipity (n.) Finding something good without looking for it.

There are people who plot out their New Year’s Eve plan even months before the last day of the year, making sure they will be celebrating the upcoming year at the best party possible. And then there are the folks who just ignore it until the very last moment and end up spending at a random place with even more random people.

Harry Styles desperately wanted to be the first kind, but unfortunately often found himself falling into the second case scenario. With his busy schedule and endless ocean of his upcoming projects, he never really had time to think about the last party of the day and usually ended up just tagging along some of his friends wherever they headed to. This year was no different, having to work up until even the last few days of the year, Harry had little to no thought about where he would be when the clock strikes midnight.

Just about a day before it, one of his old high school friends, Griff hits him up with a text if he would want to join them for the celebration at the pub he opened not that long ago. Harry didn’t think twice to accept the invitation, finally checking one more thing off his list, so he won’t just stay at home, and pathetically fall asleep at ten.

It’s nothing big or fancy, Griff assures him in the morning when he rings his friend up to ask when he should arrive and what he should bring.

“Nothing, ey? Just come and ‘ave a good time with us,” Griff tells him, though he already knows Harry won’t show up empty handed.

December 31st

A little before seven Harry opts for a quick shower before he dives deep in his wardrobe to find something to wear. He is torn between wearing a fancy outfit or something cozier, but eventually stands up for the latter, putting on a pair of light washed jeans, a simple white button up and a seaweed green knitted jumper under his coat. He doesn’t pay much attention to his hair, his curls falling around his head in a messy, warm brown halo. It’s been raining all day, it wouldn’t have had any use to try to tame them.

Slowly but surely, Harry feels the buzz in himself, excited to see his old friends and maybe meet some new people while having drinks and just relaxing. He grabs a bottle of fancy whiskey from his bar and heads out around eight.

Griff is one of the few people Harry stayed in touch with after his career launched so abruptly, the two of them often met up whenever Harry was around, having a pint together, just chatting up. Griff bought an old pub a few years prior and completely renewed it, opened at the beginning of the year, Harry was there at the opening party, he had way too much to drink, but he surely had a great time.

“There he is! My favorite arrogant son of a bitch!” Harry immediately hears as soon as he steps into the pub that’s already quite filled.

The tall lad makes his way through the groups of guests until he can envelop his old friend in a warm, brotherly hug as Harry chuckles at the name he just called him. Griff always loved that line from Harry’s song and never missed a chance to call him that. He doesn’t mind though, keeps that playful side of their friendship he always adored so much.

“Good to see you, mate,” Harry smirks at him. “Here, this is for yeh.” He holds out the pricey drink and Griff shakes his head at him.

“Told ya not to bring anything!” he sighs but accepts the gift anyway, knowing well Harry would just sneak into the back anyway and leave the liquor on his desk. “We ‘ave a nice evening ahead of us. Got food, drinks, everything’s on me, take what yeh want,” Griff assures him as the two of them walk further inside.

Harry sees a few familiar faces, high school friends, kids from around the neighborhood that are now grown adults, just like him, but there are quite a lot of guests he doesn’t know.

“C’mon, yeh need t’ ‘ave a welcome drink with me,” Griff grins as he pulls Harry to the bar and fills up two shot glasses generously. Harry doesn’t even bother to ask him what it is, he just takes the glass willingly and after they clink in the middle they both send it down.

Harry grimaces as the hard liquor burns down his throat, Griff never played around with the soft drinks, he knows what hits the best and fastest and Harry figures it’s one of those drinks that would have him crawling on the floor after two more shots.

It doesn’t take Harry long to mix and mingle, get into conversations and meet new people, just enjoying the welcoming and warm atmosphere of the party. He is pleased to see that people treat him just like any other guest, rather than a famous person and he is beyond thankful for that.

Near the bar, Griff has set up a quite rich buffet table filled with all kinds of snacks and food. It’s way past ten when Harry shuffles over there feeling his stomach growling. He grabs a paper plate and his eyes roam everything that’s set on the table. Humming to himself he decides to opt for the delicious looking fries, his mouth drools just at the sight of them, so he puts a generous amount to his plate before his eyes spot the bowl of peas. That’s exactly what he needs to go with the fries.

He goes a little overboard, but he couldn’t care less. Once he is satisfied with his meal he puts back the spoon that was sat in the bowl of peas, right when someone reaches for it. Glancing up his gaze meets a pair of warm brown eyes and a shy, but playful smile. Harry can’t stop himself from smiling instantly as the woman takes the spoon and fills her plate with peas. He looks down and sees that her plate is filled with the exact same things: fries and peas.

“Excellent choice,” he smirks teasingly and her eyes snap down to her plate before she sees the similarity on Harry’s plate. She lets out an airy chuckle before she tugs her chestnut colored, wavy locks behind her ears with her now free hand.

“Mother always told me to balance the junk out with something healthy,” she admits, the corners of her mouth curling up as she blinks a little shy under Harry’s burning gaze.

He always knew he had an eye for pretty things and he never dared to deny himself from admiring them once he laid his eyes on something he found breathtaking. She was by far the prettiest thing he has seen in quite some time, so he doesn’t shy away from taking in her figure in front of him. Delicious looking curves dressed in a pair of tight jeans and a sheer shirt with a top underneath it, the front tugged into the waist of the jeans. Her hair looks effortless, but he can tell she probably spent some time forming the natural looking waves before coming here. The thin eyeliner makes her eyes appear more cat-like and her long lashes dance around with each look she pays him.

“You want to—um, sit?” she stammers nodding towards an empty table near the buffet, a soft blush tainting her soft skin. Harry absolutely adores the hint of innocence in her features.

“’fcourse,” he nods and follows her.

The two of them move over to the table and sit down with their meal, Harry sneaking a fry into his mouth right away.

“’M Harry, by the way,” he says, realizing he hasn’t even introduced himself just yet. Some people tend to look at him weird whenever he does it, as if it should be common knowledge to know who he is, but he never takes it for granted. Luckily, she doesn’t find it funny or weird that he introduced himself.

“Annalise. But everyone just calls me Lis,” she explains and holds out a hand for him, which at first looks a little odd and he can tell she regrets the motion, but he appreciates it, even finds it cute. So before she can pull her hand back he takes it and gives it a soft shake. “So what brings you here tonight?” she asks as both of them digs into their food.

“Griff invited me, saved me last minute, didn’t have any plans.”

“How do you know him?”

Harry finds it amusing that she didn’t bring up that a famous person like him would probably have tons of invitations to fancy parties. He hates when people assume that his social life is blossoming at all times, packed with parties and events to attend every day.

“We went to high school together. Stayed in touch through the years.”

Lis nods with a small smile before her eyes return to the plate in front of her.

“How ‘bout you?”

“Oh, um… Well, Griff and I had a blind date like ages ago, but we both figured out pretty quickly we are never gonna be more than just friends. But that we are perfect for. Have been meeting up every once in a while. I was kind of in the same shoe like you, wasn’t planning on coming out tonight, but… I was forced to,” she admits with a nervous chuckle.

“Y’ don’t like to go out?”

“I—uh, don’t really have the time,” she answers, clearly a bit nervous at the topic so Harry decides to just drop it.

The two of them sit there, just talking and eating and with each passing moment Harry finds himself more and more enchanted by the woman sitting on his right. The way she rambles sometimes, how her nose scrunches whenever she is laughing hard, how she likes to keep tugging her hair behind her ears all the time, are the smallest things but they easily catch Harry’s attention.

Besides, she is not just the looks, also an amazing company. Easy to talk about anything, even the riskier things too. She doesn’t shy away from giving her honest and raw opinion, but also doesn’t attack if someone thinks differently. Instead, she is open to other point of views, seeking opportunities to learn and grow. It’s a mindset Harry values highly and feels like it’s hard to find it. But on this evening in his mate’s pub, he found a gem, it feels like.

The plates soon get swapped to beers and Lis is getting giddier with each gulp, which he finds amusing, especially because she lets her thoughts slip without thinking about them and it allows Harry to look into that pretty head of hers easier.

He doesn’t fail to notice how his heart flutters every time she touches his arm or hand whenever she is deep in a story. The warm touch of her soft hand is sending him into trembling and he is glad they are sitting because he surely would be having a hard time keeping himself up on his feet. She is just the kind of person that wraps others around her fingers without even trying or noticing.

Though it’s only been over an hour since he first laid his eyes on her, he feels like he has known her for ages. The connection built up fast and smoothly, sweeping Harry right off his feet. He’s got it bad for her and he already knows he wants to see her again once this night ends.

“Oh, it’s almost midnight!” Annalise gasps snapping out of her thoughts, a hand snapping to Harry’s upper arm. The crowd is starting to buzz, getting ready for the count down.

“C’mon, let’s get some champagne,” Harry tells her and helps her up from her seat.

They head to the bar and each of them grabs a flute filled with the sparkly alcohol. They stand a little to the side, but still mingled in the crowd of guests. Harry can feel his hands getting sweaty as he thinks about the countdown. Every fiber in his body is aching to kiss her, even though he knows it’s quite crazy knowing the fact they have known each other for only two hours. But he just can’t help it, she has a spell on him with just one look, making him act like a teenager in love.

Annalise peeks up at Harry with a lazy smile, the drinks have made her a little lightheaded, but she is nowhere near being drunk. Her thoughts are absolutely clear and they all focus on the man standing close to her.

Harry watches her bite into her bottom lip and he wonders if she is thinking about the same thing. If she’d be mad if he kissed her when the clock strikes midnight or slap him right across his face. He notices as she draws a deep breath, eyes looking around before they return to him.

“Get yo’ drinks, lads!” Griff shouts from somewhere behind the bar and those who haven’t picked up a glass quickly work on the problem.

Then the countdown begins.

“Ten!... Nine!... Eight!...”

Annalise glances up at Harry and her cheeks blush when she catches him already looking at her. She wishes she had her beer so she could hide in her glass from his burning eyes.

“Seven!... Six!...”

Harry turns so his whole body is facing her and takes just one tiny step towards her. When she doesn’t back away from him, he takes it as a sign that she might want the same thing as him.

“Five!... Four!...”

She looks straight up at him with a sheepish smile and pushes herself against him right when his free hand finds its way to her waist. She sucks in a sharp breath, but doesn’t move while Harry is aching to taste her plump, soft lips.

“Three!... Two!... One!... Happy New Year!”

The crowd cheers as one, guests are clapping and screaming, welcoming the new year with high hopes and full of planes for the new chapter that just started.

Harry and Annalise lock eyes and while everything around them is a full chaos, he feels like a bubble of silence and tranquility is surrounding them. Harry sucks in his breath, lips parted as he doesn’t break his gaze with hers. There’s a moment of hesitation, but the voice in the back of his mind tells him that he can’t let this moment go to waste.

Fuck it! He tells himself before he leans down and his lips meet hers in a soft, warm and breathtaking kiss.

He is a man who believes in magic, in things he can’t explain rationally, he is a man who doesn’t try to pull reality into everything when something odd happens. When his lips meet hers, he is swept right off his feet with just that tiny touch. It’s not a demanding kiss, very restricted and shy, but it still makes his insides tremble for her, almost falling to his knees right in front of her.

There’s a moment of hesitation from her side, when their lips are just touching in a little awkward way, but it fades into nothing before Harry could wrap his head around it, her lips parting as she lets him deepen the kiss, a soft moan slipping out of her throat that brings a knot to his stomach.

The moment is so vivid, raw and intoxicating, he wishes he could bottle it up and open it to have a taste of her anytime later, keep her in his pocket just to have her lips glued to his like this whenever he needs to be grounded or taken away from the world. His fingers dig into her waist, pulling her close to his body, hoping to just merge into her, become one with the woman in his arms.

She softly glides her hands up his arms, through his shoulders before they stop at the back of his neck, digging into his soft curls, while never breaking the kiss. Their lips stay melted together, tongues and teeth clashing, they are a hot mess in the first minutes of the new year.

The cheering slowly dies down and the usual buzzing of conversations and laughter replaces it, but the two of them are still busy with each other and it takes quite some time to pull themselves out of the bubble they created.

“Happy New Year, Lis,” Harry smiles down, lips swollen, eyes glistening from the joy that’s filling up his veins. She glances up at him shyly from under her lashes.

“Happy New Year, Harry,” she whispers, biting into her bottom lip, coming off the high this little make out session gave her.

One hour passes by, then another and the party is starting to slowly die down. People are flaking out the door, the crowd is getting smaller with each door opening.

Harry and Annalise remain in the corner of the place after their kiss, a barrier that’s been noticeably present before has come down as Harry has his arm swung over the back of her chair and she lets herself lean against his side. There’s something so calming and tranquil in just being so close to each other, sharing thoughts and stories while his fingers graze on her shoulder gently and her head always falls to his shoulder when she laughs on something. He loves her laugh, it could easily light up any place and Harry can’t help but feel sorry for the people who don’t see her shine. So many guests didn’t get the chance to get to know her, but on the other hand, he is a bit selfish, he wants her all to himself. No one else should have the honor of making her laugh or bringing a smile to her perfect lips. He wants her all to himself, even if it makes him sound like a mad man.

After she leaves to the restroom, she comes back with her phone in her hands and a tired smile playing on her lips.

“I, uhh—called an Uber. I really should get going,” she tells him and he wants to make her stay. He wants this evening to last forever, but he can’t ask her to stay longer than she wants, so he just slowly nods.

“I’ll walk you out,” he offers, but it’s more like a fact.

The two of them find their coats on the packed rack, Annalise says goodbye to the handful of people she knows, hugging Griff before they head outside to wait for her car to arrive.

“I really enjoyed tonight,” Harry mumbles, shoving his hands into his coat’s pockets, feeling like a nervous teenage boy talking to his crush. She glances up at him with a smile, but there’s something clouding her eyes he can’t really put his finger on.

“Me too,” she assures him, a pair of headlights turning the corner and they both look in the approaching car’s direction before facing each other. “It was really great meeting you, Harry. Take care of yourself in the new year,” she tells her, but he doesn’t like the weight of her words. It sounds like a proper goodbye, like she is bracing herself to never meet him again, but he can’t let that happen.

“Can I—Uh, can I have your number? I would love to take you out sometime.”

The car stops next to them and she nods in the driver’s way to let him know she’s the one he is supposed to pick up. Taking a step to the backseat, she looks back at Harry.

“I’m really sorry, Harry, but we can’t.”

Devastation washes over him, her words are like a punch into his stomach each. Why is she rejecting him? Did she not enjoy the evening? Did he say something stupid? She seemed to be having a great time, so why can’t he see her again?

“What? Are you sure? Because I really loved tonight and would love to see you again.”

Annalise opens the car door and shoots him an apologetic look. He has never felt this helpless in his life, than at that moment, looking at the woman of his dreams escape from his reach.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t get into… whatever it is you want from me. I really am sorry, I wish it was different.”

“But I just want to see you again. I thought… You didn’t feel like it was something special?” he breathes out, feeling the world crashing down on him with each passing moment.

“I did, but I can’t do this. I’m sorry. Take care, Harry,” she sighs, clearly not happy about her own actions and he doesn’t understand why she is fleeing away like this.

He stands there, completely frozen as she gets into the car and shuts the door open. Their eyes meet through the window one last time before the car starts moving and she falls out of his view. He stares after her until the very last moment, when the car disappears at the end of the street, leaving him in pieces from the major rejection he just suffered.

He stays out there until his nose and cheeks turn red and his ears are freezing off, part of him wishing that if he just waits she’s gonna magically reappear and tell him it was just a joke. He can’t believe he met such a wonderful creature and had to let her go like she didn’t flip his whole world upside down under just a couple of hours. Does she know how much of an effect she had on him?

She probably doesn’t, he thinks to herself, because then she wouldn’t have left so abruptly and without a trace for him to find her again.

When Harry returns to the pub, he is met with a tipsy Griff, shoving a pint into his hand immediately.

“Ay, saw you hanging with Lis all night!” he teases Harry, but the mentioning of her name just makes his heart ache. However, knowing that Griff is friends with her, he is ready to use him as a way to get to her.

“Yeah, hey, you have her number?” he asks, trying his best to look as innocent as possible, but Griff sees right through him, even with all the alcohol in his body.

“Sorry, mate. F’she didn’t give it to ya, I won’t go against her.”

“I’m begging you, Griff. I need to see her again!” he sighs in despair, ready to do anything he can to get to her.

“Y’not the first bloke to fall for her magic. I know what it feels like, but I can’t do anything, sorry.” He shrugs his shoulders, giving an apologetic look to his friend before he joins another conversation.

Harry could scream from the frustration, the urge to punch something or someone is growing with each passing moment, but he has to realize there’s nothing he can do at this point other than accept the fact that he met this wonderful woman, had the best night with her and then was forced to watch her walk out of his life before she could even become part of it properly.

Harry starts to realize that what he thought about heartbreaks is nothing compared to the feeling Annalise left in his heavy heart.

There has to be a solid reason for what she did. Or did not do.

Endless theories about Annalise flood his mind through the days following that night when he was forced to watch her leave on such a bitter and painful note. Harry couldn’t stop himself from making up the most ridiculous cases just to give himself a possible peace of mind, but neither of them brought him enough comfort to forget about her.

His best shot was that she had a boyfriend, or even worse, a husband. This was the only version that sounded somewhat real and believable, though he just knew she is not the type of woman to cheat on a significant other.

How would you know? You spent just one evening with her, she could be a serial killer for all you know! Harry’s rational side was always quick to shut him down when his thought swirled around the idea of knowing her well enough to assume anything about her.

As the days dragged by him in a painful pace, he slowly had to realize it’s going to be a question in his life he’ll never get an answer to, so he just has to learn to live with the thought of the woman that got away.

The end of January rolls around faster than he could comprehend, February comes and he finds himself spending his days mostly in the studio, cooking up new music. Studio sessions are his favorite. That’s his element, he feels safe and comfortable, surrounded by people he trusts and enjoys creating his art fully. In the new year, he has also been eager to pick up a new hobby so he has been trying himself out in knitting and painting recently, finding both of them just a tad bit too hard for him just yet, but they were enough to get his mind off of the one woman who was constantly occupying his thoughts following New Year’s Eve.

Sitting in an armchair in the studio, he and his bandmates are listening back to some recordings they did today and he is trying to find that one thing that keeps throwing him off whenever he hears the song.

“I think it’s great,” Mitch states once the recording ends, and Harry agrees, it is great, but not the best.

“Maybe we could tone down the keyboard a little through the bridge, give more space for the guitar,” he contemplates, but really, he is just shooting in the dark, not sure what it is that keeps him on edge about the song.

“Why don’t we have a break?” Sarah suggests with a warm smile, seeing how everyone is keen on leaving for a little, except Harry, who is still fixated on mastering the song. But he agrees to have the break, however while everyone gets ready to leave and grab something to eat from the diner that’s around the corner, Harry stays where he is, eyes glued to his notebook.

“You’re not coming?” Charlotte asks him and he just shakes his head.

“No, not that hungry.” He looks up and shoots them a short smile and though they all can tell he could use the time out, they know him enough already that he won’t leave before he finds what’s not right.

“Alright. We’ll be back in an hour,” Mitch informs him and he dismisses them all with a nod.

He stays right there, going through the lyrics a few more times, making tiny changes in hopes that it’ll fix it all, but he can feel himself growing frustrated. Doesn’t matter how hard he is trying, he realizes his brain needs a break. Letting out a defeated huff he leans back, looking around in the empty studio. He doesn’t feel particularly hungry, but he could use something to snack on. So grabbing his coat he locks up the studio and heads out to the nearby Tesco they usually run out during sessions.

He is still humming the melody to himself when he walks in, a pair of sunglasses sitting on the bridge of his nose, his famous curls hidden under a green beanie. He doesn’t bother to get a cart or basket, just strolls inside and roams down the aisles, trying to decide what he desires.

He settles on some kind of canned tea and a protein bar, but before he heads towards the cash registers, he wanders down the aisle where they keep cereals, looking around aimlessly. It’s the middle of the day on a weekday, most people are at work at this hour, so just a few other customers are lingering around, filling their carts. At first, he doesn’t pay any attention to the figure a little further down the aisle, his eyes are glued to the shelves, but then he just mindlessly glances to his left, his brain not even processing what, or who he is seeing at first. Then he takes a double take and his stomach drops to the tiled floor when he recognizes the woman, deep in her thoughts to decide which cereal to buy.

Annalise is standing just a few meters away from him, looking just as beautiful as he remembered, wearing a pair of simple jeans, light blue sneakers and a white jacket, her hair is in a loose ponytail on the top of her head.

“Lis?” he calls out, as if he thinks she is just a ghost. Taking a few steps closer he watches as her eyes fall from the products on the shelves to him, then they widen and her lips part in shock.

“Harry? Wha-what are you doing here?” she asks and Harry is quick to read the panic out of her tone as she looks around cautiously.

“I’m… shopping?” he answers with a soft chuckle, holding up the items in his hands.

“Haven’t seen you around here.”

“The studio we use is nearby, I drop by sometimes. But today is clearly my lucky day.” Even though her reaction is giving him doubts, he can’t hide his joy upon seeing her again, fate clearly playing on his side this time.

“Uh, yeah?” she lets out an anxious chuckle, her eyes often wandering off him, as if she is waiting for someone to show up and it just fuels Harry’s rich theories about her.

“So, are you here with your boyfriend?” he boldly asks, deciding to just go for it. Annalise’s eyes widen once again, but not in a way that makes him think he just busted her, it’s more of a confused one.

“Boyfriend? What are you talking about?”

“Well, you basically ran away from me that night, I figured you had someone and that’s why you didn’t want to give me your number.” He tries his best not to sound petty or bitter, though that’s exactly what he’s been feeling ever since she left that night.

“Harry, that’s… not the case.”

“Okay, so does this mean you’ll give me your number this time?” he tries and he is so busy with her presence, he doesn’t even notice when a smaller frame runs past him down the aisle.

“Mommy! I want this!”

At first, he doesn’t even register that the little boy is talking to Annalise, he dismisses his presence, eyes still fixated on her, but then her gaze leaves him and turns down to the boy, holding up a bar of chocolate.

“Honey, that’s too big. Choose something smaller, alright?”

It takes Harry a few moments to put one and one together. This kid just ran up to her, called her mommy and most likely not on accident since she answered him, very much talking to him like his mother. Though Harry can’t see his own face, he knows it fell, shock completely taking over him as his thoughts finally add up. Annalise looks back at him in panic, completely puzzled about what to do or say.

“Benji, go get another one, a smaller one while I talk to my friend here,” Annalise softly tells the boy.

He turns to Harry, eyes meeting his as he cocks his head to the side, examining the shocked adult standing in front of him.

“Who’s this?” he blurts out.

“Just a friend, alright? Go get your chocolate,” she urges. Benji gives Harry another look before nodding and running off, leaving them alone once again in the cereal aisle. “Harry, I-I’m sorry, you weren’t supposed to know.”

“Are you married?” is his first question, taking her by surprise.

“What?”

“The father. Is he your husband?” he urges, eager to clear the picture. Annalise shakes her head.

“No, we were never even married.”

He feels relief washing over him. At least at this point he doesn’t feel like a homewrecker. If he found out she wasn’t only a mother but also married, and that she cheated on the dude with him, that would have crushed him. But it’s one less thing to worry about on a long list.

“Okay, it’s fine. You are not married, it’s all good,” he breathes out and it brings her a smile through this absurd situation.

“You thought I was married?”

“Or at least had a boyfriend, yeah,” he nods, hands on his hips as he licks his lips. He surely had a mini panic attack, but he can feel the life coming back into his body.

“Do I come off like the kind to cheat that easily?” she asks with raised eyebrows, but she didn’t take it as an offense, she more like finds it funny rather than hurtful.

“No, not at all! I was just trying to figure out why you rejected me and this was my best shot!”

“I’m sorry, Harry. I just… I didn’t know how to tell and I didn’t really think you would want to see me again after that night.”

“I think I made it clear that I wanted to when I asked for your number.”

“Well, yes, but I thought you just wanted a hookup and that’s just not what I can do.”

“Because of…” he gestures towards the boy that jolted down the aisle just a few minutes ago.

“Because of Benji, yeah.”

“Alright, it’s understandable, but I did not just want a hookup, and that’s still not what I want,” he clears, his words certainly surprising her. This is definitely not what she was expecting when she came down to get groceries today.

“Harry…” she breathes out, already feeling guilty that she is about to turn him down once again. “You can’t be serious.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m a single mother with a six year-old and you are… you.”

“I don’t see your point,” he truthfully answers.

“I’m not some model you chatted up at some award show, who is living her best life, traveling the world just like you. My days consist of work, doing laundry, cleaning the house, cooking, doing first grade homework, going to football practice and watching cartoons. We are polar opposites.”

“No, just our lifestyles, but that doesn’t mean we can’t get closer.”

“Is that really what you want?”

Harry is about to answer right when Benji emerges again, proudly holding up a bar of KitKat in his hand this time.

“This one! This one!” he declares, stopping next to Annalise.

“Okay, put it in,” she nods and the little boy throws the chocolate into the cart with a beaming smile. Her eyes flicker back to Harry, who is now staring down at Benji, who is seemingly not that interested in him at the moment, his attention is more focused on the cereals on the shelves.

She is aware she can’t really push this conversation, but she also doesn’t want Benji to hear it.

“Benji, can you get me three apples? I’ll go get paper towels in the next aisle, alright?”

“Three?” he asks holding up three fingers to make sure he heard her right.

“Yes.”

Benji nods and runs off once again, while Annalise grabs a random box of cereal off the shelf and starts pushing her cart, Harry walking along with him.

“It’s nice that you want to prove that you are fine with whatever baggage I come with, but I’m not stupid, Harry. I know I’m not the jackpot and I’m not naïve, I’m not trying to make myself believe that I’m easy to date when I’m clearly not.”

“You act like you are the only single parent out in the dating field. I genuinely don’t think that it’s that big of a deal.”

“Yeah, that’s what you are saying now. But then we would get more involved, you’d grow frustrated that I can’t just go after you whenever you feel like it, or that I would have to cancel on plans because Benji is sick or has homework to do that he needs help with. Or that my Friday night consists of playing board games, then watching whatever cartoon Benji is keen on seeing and I’m in bed by ten while you probably spend these nights out with your friends, hopping from one bar to the other. And I’m not saying that you shouldn’t, that’s exactly what you should be doing at your age… at our age. But for me, it’s just different.”

She is not talking just out of theories. She has tried to date, several times, but it was always kind of doomed from the beginning. Men in their mid-twenties don’t want to be a stand-in dad, though it’s completely not what she expects. But as time went by, they all grew tired of having to deal with a kid in the relationship and they all ended up leaving and she can’t even blame them. It’s not what they want in life at this point, but she can’t be what they wanted her to be so slowly but surely she gave up on finding a man before she turns thirty and her peers start to get into the whole idea of having a family that’s already been her reality since she was eighteen.

And the situation is even more complicated with Harry. An international rockstar is definitely not the right person for her and vice versa. She can only imagine what some lowlifes would think when they found out he is dating a single mother. People can be cruel for no damn reason and she is definitely not in the right mindset to be humiliated just because she is a mother.

The two of them move down to the next aisle so she can grab the paper towels along with some dish soap. Harry is keen on making her understand that he is still very much interested and he has nothing against her being a mother. It was just a little shocking to find out this way, instead of hearing about it from her.

“I think you have an unreasonable picture in your head of what my life is like,” he explains. “Yes, I do travel a lot and I go to parties, but it’s not what I do most in life. And I’m not expecting you to turn your whole life around for me.”

“Yeah, but dating me is kind of me asking you to turn your whole life around for us,” she simply says and he is stunned at her words, having nothing to bring up against them. “Look,” she sighs. “I appreciate the effort and everything, but I want to save you the time, just like I originally wanted to. I know that it seems reasonable now, but once you get involved, it’s a whole different world, I’m telling you. And while I would love to give you the chance to prove me wrong, I still have to think about Benji. I can’t just drag someone into his life and then have them leave when they figure out it’s not what they want after all. He needs stability around him and it’s enough that he can’t get that from his father.”

Harry has a million questions roaming in his head that he is dying to ask. Mostly about the father, because if he is not in the picture, he can’t imagine what kind of scumbag he is for leaving someone like her. But he keeps them all to himself, especially when Benji appears again with the three apples, putting them into the cart with a proud smile. The boy turns to Harry this time, finally acknowledging his presence.

“Who are you?” he asks. Harry looks down at him and pushes everything else into the back of his mind as he hunches down a bit, holding out his hand for the boy, a friendly smile playing on his lips.

“I’m Harry, your mum’s friend. Nice to meet you.”

The boy doesn’t hesitate to take his right held out, his small hand almost getting lost in Harry’s big palm as they shake hands like two adults. Harry is stunned by how confident he is, unlike most kids his age.

“I’m Benjamin Lloyd,” the boy introduces himself smiling and Harry can see the resemblance now clearer than anything. His smile is certainly his mother’s and the shape of his eyes along with his chin are the exact same as Annalise’s, leaving only a few traits that must have been inherited from his father.

Benjamin lets go of Harry’s hand and turns back to his mother completely unbothered by the man he just met.

“Mum, are we staying on the playground a little?” he asks as they all move down the aisle, heading to the cash register.

“Uh, yeah, we can stay for a little, but you need to do homework when we get home. Mrs. Conrad sent me all the work you missed today so we have to catch up on everything. You got away with faking sickness this morning, but you are doing the work you missed.”

Benji doesn’t fuss about having to do work, he knew this would happen when he faked to have a tummy ache, he nods understanding the importance of doing his homework and Harry is amazed by how great his behavior is. Most kids his age would have thrown a tantrum over what Annalise just said, but not Benji. He is like a small adult, Harry thinks.

“I honestly don’t see why you still have to push me away completely. Did you not enjoy talking with me?” Harry continues as they stand in line, Annalise putting everything to the belt from the cart while Benji is busy playing around the poles that separate the lines.

“Of course I did!” she sighs.

“So then why can’t we just continue? See where it goes?”

“Because that’s just not how things work for me,” she says with a soft, sad chuckle.

“What, you can’t have friends?” Harry asks innocently as Annalise finishes packing, puts a divider on the belt so Harry can put his items behind hers.

“Oh, so you just want to be friends?” she asks raising her eyebrows, seeing through him easily. Harry opens his mouth, but then closes, a cheeky smile stretching across her face that makes her chuckle.

“For now, yeah?” he tries to sound convincing, but it’s more of a joke.

The cashier starts to scan her items so she pushes the cart over to the end and starts packing everything back, Benji still climbing on the poles, completely oblivious to the conversation happening around him, or he just chooses not to listen.

“You are unbelievable,” she shakes her head at the man in the line. The cashier finishes up with her items and she taps her card on the terminal, pushing the cart away a little.

Harry is scared that she’ll flee the moment she gets the receipt and leaves before she could go after her, but for his biggest surprise, she just pushes the cart a little away from the cash register and starts packing her items into totebags. Benji runs up to her and she gives him his KitKat without a word, the boy happily tearing the packaging open, snacking on the chocolate.

Harry is quick to finish with his items, catching up with Annalise as the three of them head out of the supermarket.

“Look, I’m gonna be honest with you, I haven’t felt like this with anyone in a long time, Lis. I loved talking to you, I feel like we had a connection, and I think you felt it too. I would hate to waste whatever we had so I’m offering you my friendship. I want to hang out, spend time with you, just as two adults enjoying each other’s company. Nothing more, if that’s what you really want for now. And we can see where it heads later. How does that sound?”

They reach her car and Benji runs to the backseat, tearing the door open while Annalise opens the trunk and she is surprised to see Harry help her pack her bags into the car, but she doesn’t protest.

“I really don’t know…” she sighs.

“Come on! Just friends. Give it a try! I have a great feeling about it and I promise to be very careful. I understand that you need boundaries because of Benji and I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable in any way. But you do have to realize that you need to open up at one point. You can’t use him as an excuse forever.”

“I’m not using him as an excuse!” she points out, but she can feel how that’s not the whole truth.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, Lis,” Harry smirks, pulling his phone out of his coat’s pocket and unlocking it he holds it out for her once she has closed the trunk. “I’m just asking for your phone number, not to travel the world with me. You can decide to block me later if you change your mind, it’s nothing serious, alright?”

Annalise’s hesitation is clearer than the light and in any other case, he would take offence at it, but not with her. Harry is keen on proving to her that he meant everything he said and that he is willing to take a chance with her.

Chewing on the inside of her cheeks, she glances back at Benji, who has climbed into his seat in the back of the car. She is fighting with herself, bringing up all pros and contras until she finally caves in. Grabbing the phone from Harry’s hand she types her number in and gives herself a ring so she can save his number as well. She hands the device back and Harry’s smile is so wide, she almost wants to punch him in the face, but she can also feel the excitement running through her veins.

“Great. You won’t regret it, Lis,” Harry beams shoving his phone back into his pocket. His hand reaches for her arm and gives it a gentle squeeze as he doesn’t want to try anything further with her at the moment.

“I better not,” she mumbles shaking her head before turning around to buckle Benji in. When that’s done she pays one last glance at Harry who stands at the car next to hers, watching her get behind the wheel and back out from her spot. He waves at her happily and she just nods in his way before turning around the car and driving away.

“Why the fuck didn’t you tell me?!” Harry rages through the phone, his anger only met with a soft chuckle from Griff on the other end of the call.

“Mate, I told ya, s’not my place! She didn’t tell ya, so I didn’t either.”

“You saw how hooked I was on her! You could have, no, no… you should have told me!”

Harry was quick to run back to the studio and called Griff right away to load everything out on him. He felt betrayed that his friend didn’t let him know this small little detail even after seeing him all crushed after she left without a trace to find her. He gets his reasoning, he does, but it still doesn’t stop him from being so bloody mad at his mate.

“Sorry! I really am sorry! But I know how protective she is over Benji. I was not gonna betray her like tha’.”

Harry takes a deep breath, paying up and down the hallway in the studio, trying his best to calm his nerves. It’s an unfortunate situation as a whole, he sees that clearly, but the frustration how it had to go down at the end is getting the best out of him for sure. He is not mad at one specific person, because everyone was doing what they thought to be the best, but everything added up to be such a shitty outcome, or at least on Harry’s side.

Pinching the bridge of his nose he huffs again, putting aside his burning emotions.

“Okay, okay. Sorry to snap at you like that, it was just… a lot.”

“I get it, don’ worry about it,” Griff assures him, glasses clinking behind him somewhere, he is probably working at the pub as they are speaking. “She gave ya her number now, right?”

“Yeah, she didn’t want to, but I talked her ears off,” Harry chuckles lowly. He could still feel the excitement that rushed through him when she finally gave in.

“M’happy for ya, mate. But please be bloody careful. She doesn’t need any shit right now, has enough on her plate.”

“I know. I’m just trying to be her friend first, that’s all.”

“Alright. Swing by the pub sometime soon, if ya want.”

“Sure thing. Bye Griff,” Harry smiles before ending the call.

Walking back into the recording room, all eyes snap up to him and he stops in his track.

“What?”

“The hell was that about?” Sarah questions, asking in the name of everyone in the room. They all just heard his rage outside and now are dying to know what it was about.

“I uhh—I found her,” he simply says and watches all his bandmates gawk back at him with wide eyes.

“What? Did you like, hire a private investigator or something?” Charlotte asks, making Harry chuckle as he shakes his head no.

“No, I ran into her at Tesco. Well, her and her… son.”

His last word washes out the whole room, everyone stops breathing for a moment as they stare back at Harry who has that ‘yeah, you heard me right’ look on his face.

“A son?” Mitch asks snapping out of his shock. “Like a proper kid?”

“How do you not have a proper kid?” Harry asks him with a look.

“I don’t know! I’m just… surprised. How old is the kid?”

“Like six or seven. She said something about being a first grader.”

“Didn’t you say she is a year younger than you?” Sarah asks, as everyone is doing the silent math in their head.

“She is, with one year. Or that’s what she told me.”

“That makes her, what, like eighteen when she had the kid? And what about the father?” Charlotte trails, still trying hard to put the picture together.

“She didn’t say much, but from what I understood, he is not really in the picture. So at least she is not married or something,” Harry adds, still open about the relief he is feeling about that information.

“This shit is twisted,” Sarah huffs. “So what’s gonna happen now? Did you ask for her number again?”

“Ask?” Harry chuckles bitterly. “I begged, Sarah. I was ready to be on my knees in the middle of a bloody Tesco.”

A round of laughter runs through the room and the mood finally eases a little after the shock that just set in. It wasn’t the fact that Annalise had a son that sent everyone over the edge, but rather that she didn’t say a single word about it and how it all surfaced.

“And did she give it to you?” Mitch prompts and Harry nods, a shy smile stretching on his lips as the two girls start clapping and cheering.

They all saw his long face after New Year’s Eve, it couldn’t be missed how he was moping around for weeks. He told them all about this girl he met, who completely blew his mind just before breaking his heart. Now that she was found and gave him just a small crumble of information about her to him that makes him able to contact her, the change is visible. That little sparkle in his eyes is back and that’s all his friends wanted to see.

“So what are you gonna do now?” Sarah asks as Harry walks over to one of the armchairs and makes himself comfortable.

“Now… I’ll try not to scare her off. Hopefully she won’t push me away and at least let me be her friend.”

“Friend? Is that what you want to be?”

“Of course not,” he sighs, his head dropping to the back of the armchair. “But this is all I can do for now.”

They all just nod, tasting his words and letting everything that just happened sink in. Harry is doing the same, he has a lot to think about and figure out, but there’s one thing he is one hundred percent sure about: he will not give up on Annalise.

NEXT PART

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