#I’ll have better facts of future days I just woke up feeling bad this morning
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Countdown to the Vengeance Saga: 17 Days
Fun Fact Time! Some of Poseidons symbols include the Trident, Fish, Dolphins, Horses (which he created), and bulls!
#Epic the musical#epic the vengeance saga#epic the vengeance saga countdown#I’ll have better facts of future days I just woke up feeling bad this morning
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avatrice + kiss on the back of the hand?
[ava + some friends, more outside pov (in the future!) for @unicyclehippo]
//
despite the fact that physical therapy is boring, and not at all your favorite activity, you like your therapist, brian, and at least you’ve gotten to consistently schedule it early enough in the morning you don’t miss your bridge group. and you’ve been compliant — mostly; you did spend more time on your feet last week than you were supposed to, but your grandson was visiting and you would never let him leave without having his favorite brisket and matzoh ball soup — and have done the exercises brian gives you to do at home every day.
the physical therapy gym is mostly boring, more — and you hate to say it — old people, like you, recovering from total knee or total hip replacements, and a few young athletes. your son, ezra, drops you off and picks you up twice a week; sometimes his husband, marcus, fills in and he always takes you to get donuts afterward, your little secret. today you sit at the table you always start at, your walker steady and almost unnecessary at this point, and a young woman, exhausted-looking and the kind of pretty that could easily belong in a party when you were young, sitting in a sleek wheelchair by the table, smiles gently across you. you’re early by a few minutes — ezra is wonderful, but he’s a bit wound up all the time — so you smile back. ‘i’m ruth,’ you say.
‘hi.’ the young woman seems happy to talk, cheerful. ‘i’m ava.’
‘very exciting beginning to your morning, it seems like.’
she groans. ‘ugh, tell me about it. my partner barely woke up in time to drive me here.’
you laugh. ‘not a morning person?’
ava rolls her eyes. ‘no, not at all. i love mornings though, even if they’re at physical therapy.’
‘it’s not so bad,’ you tell her. ‘have you done it before?’
‘not really.’ she shrugs. ‘i have some chronic spine stuff from a car accident when i was younger, and my doctors have tried… a lot, so we’re hoping this helps everything.’
‘i hope it’ll help.’ you gesture to your walker. ‘total hip replacement. from being old.’
ava’s smile is bright. ‘kinda cool, to get old, though, huh? and to have as cool of clothes as you do? i can only hope the same for myself, one day.’
it’s sweet, and sincere, and aching under the surface. ‘it is wonderful, to get to grow old. and —‘ you wink — ‘to get to be better dressed than everyone around you.’
‘hell yeah.’ she looks at her own hoodie and joggers. ‘i usually am better dressed than this, or, at least, more fun; i just had surgery last week.’
‘well, when you’re feeling better, i’m sure i’ll be very impressed.’
‘i don’t know about that.’ ava blushes a little, and you’re delighted. ‘i think my partner is probably the better dressed of the two of us; she’s very chic. but i’m fun!’
‘fun is the most important part. especially when you’re an old lady.’
she laughs and then brian walks up, says hi to you, and you wave. ‘good luck, ava. i’ll talk to you soon.’
‘for sure,’ she tells you enthusiastically.
/
you’re waiting on a bench in front of the physical therapy gym in the warm sunshine — not too hot, not too cold, perfect — when ava walks toward you, slowly and with a cane, but walking.
‘is this seat taken?’
‘for a pretty girl like you? absolutely not.’
she laughs, bright and warm. ‘ruth, you flirt.’
‘i’m old.’ she sits gingerly and it makes you hurt for her, just a little — not that she needs any mobility aids, but because it’s clear she’s in pain. ‘i get to flirt whenever i want.’
‘oh, is that how it works?’
‘absolutely,’ you tell her sagely.
‘well, other than me, of course, let me know if there are any crushes i should know about? i love drama, and my life is, both tragically and fortunately, drama free right now.’
‘well, sean in my bridge group, and david from shul. oh, and lee from my favorite cafe i go to for lunch.’
‘hmm, pros and cons? or are we playing the field?’
you laugh, and you tell her about sean’s clever hands, the beautiful way david reads scripture, how lee always offers you half his reuben. ava listens attentively, like she really cares, and, after she asks a thoughtful series of questions about how to play bridge — my girlfriend would probably demolish at this game, honestly — you understand that she really does care; she really does want to know you. so you ask her questions too; her partner’s name is beatrice, and she is, according to ava, beautiful and kind and exacting; ava grew up mostly in spain and is a bartender, which she loves, and they live in a house on the beach because beatrice, apparently, works in consulting all over europe, and also enjoys teaching aikido. ‘she has four black belts,’ ava says, and fans herself. it makes you laugh, and when marcus drives up in his practical, nice bmw hybrid, you pat her hand.
‘see you tuesday, ruth.’
‘enjoy your weekend, ava.’
/
ava’s walking better on tuesday, and she sits next to you without asking this time, after you’re both finished. she fishes around in her crossbody bag and then holds out her hand, some candy with wrappers in mandarin on her palm. ‘they’re plum candies. they’re beatrice’s favorites, so i thought i was being sweet, but, i kinda went overboard and ordered, like, enough for a small army.’
you laugh but take one — you would never turn down an offered sweet; something of a communion — and open it while ava does the same. it’s wonderful: flavorful and sweet and a little sour, and you tell ava that.
‘ugh, i know,’ she says. ‘i don’t think bea had had them for a really long time; she cried the other day.’ ava smiles, like she’s trying not to laugh. ‘it was very sweet. a little dramatic, but i get it. i kind of go crazy for panellets.’
‘well, i’m making babka tomorrow, how about i bring you both some thursday?’
‘ruth, that’s too much.’
‘i love to share food,’ you say. ‘really, it’s part of the job description of a bubbe. they only let you in if you share your babka.’
ava rolls her eyes but then she nods. ‘i would really love that.’
ezra drives up, and you stand — easily, now, without pain and much stiffness — and wave.
/
your babka turns out as good as it always does — the best at shul, despite the fact that yael claims hers is better — and you place a few carefully in a tupperware to bring to ava, who seems a little wilted when she sits next to you. she waves you off when you look concerned.
’no big deal,’ she says. ‘just didn’t sleep too well last night. but! now i’m going to eat the world’s best babka and nap after bea drops me off. do you think i could convince her to nap with me?’
‘depends on why you didn’t sleep well last night.’
it takes ava a minute but then she laughs, brightening immediately. ‘ruth!’
‘you’re young, you should be having fun.’
‘oh, we have fun.’ ava grins. ‘don’t worry.’
‘well, speaking of fun,’ you say, ‘a few of my friends and i go to this water aerobics class at the country club together, every wednesday. i’m sorry if i was eavesdropping, but i heard kayvon tell you that some water therapy might be helpful? it’s really quite fun.’
‘that sounds awesome, honestly. i just got cleared to drive myself next week, so i would love that!’
you don’t bother to mention that everyone in the class is over seventy, mostly because you don’t really care, but, also, ava doesn’t seem to care, at all, that you’re at least fifty years older than her: you’re friends, and she’s kind, and bright.
once again, marcus is there to pick her up before her ride, but you give her your number — and you add her on facebook, because that’s easier for you sometimes — before you leave. you send her the details later that day, and she responds with a few emojis you don’t understand, but that your grandson laughs at when you show him. good enough.
/
‘i didn’t know, really, what to wear to water aerobics,’ ava says, happily sitting on the edge of the pool with you. she has on a simple red one-piece, her hair tied up in a bun, although short pieces escape. the back dips low and you see multiple scars, some faded and one new, and painful looking; ava’s light often makes you forget why you first met.
‘this is great,’ you tell her. you gesture to your brightly colored, polka dotted tankini. ‘you can spice it up however much you want. just wait until you meet angela.’
as if on cue, angela, tall and Black and striking, walks in, with her perpetually perfect close cropped hair, in a pair of heels and draped in an elegant silk coverup over a royal blue bikini. ‘whoa,’ ava says, and it’s so earnest it makes you laugh.
‘listen,’ ava says, ‘i’m bi, queer, and, yeah, i have a partner who is so so so beautiful, like, god, this morning she came home from surfing and used our outdoor shower — thank god for her trust fund, am i right? — but… ruth, i have eyes.’ she looks over to you. ‘you have eyes too, right? like, no offense to sean and david and lee, but… angela is stunning, okay?’
‘she is,’ you grant her, mostly because you’re amused. angela walks over and smiles, gracious and perfect, and you gesture to ava, who gulps. ‘angela, ava. ava, angela.’
‘hello, ava,’ angela says. ‘ruth says that she’s quite fond of you from physical therapy.’
‘yeah,’ ava says, a little stunned. ‘that’s — that’s really kind, ruth.’
‘we don’t invite just anyone to water aerobics. it’s an exclusive club.’
‘other than courtney,’ angela grumbles.
’well, true,’ you admit. ‘but she’s not part of lunch. ava, next week, you should come join us.’
‘i would love that,’ she says. ‘beatrice will too, i’ll make sure of it.’
you laugh, and angela waves to rosa and farha when she sees them. class goes great; ava seems, when you look over at her a few times, to enjoy it a lot. even though you hadn’t really worried that ava would feel out of place, any nagging feelings are assuaged when she gets out of the pool and wraps a towel around her shoulders, carefully moves on the wet floor with a cane.
‘i told bea i’d be home soon,’ she says, ‘and she gets kinda nervous when i’m late. but! i’ll see you at therapy tomorrow, and i’ll definitely plan on lunch next week.’ she hesitates for a moment and then gives you a hug, which fills you with a very particular kind of warmth. ‘thank you, for inviting me.’
‘of course, ava. see you tomorrow.’
/
you see ava at therapy and you think, for the most part, she’s improving: you haven’t seen her wheelchair in months, and she still uses her cane, but you think it’s mostly because it feels safer, especially if she’s sore. you start going once a week but it doesn’t really matter, because she comes to water aerobics in increasingly fun swimsuits, including a purple stripped bikini that makes even angela whistle. ‘oh, to be young again,’ she had said, and ava had blushed.
‘so, how did you meet beatrice?’ margot asks, back from her annual trip to florida.
ava puts down her fork and smiles, so soft. ‘work, in spain. a job i didn’t even want, even. but, even from when we first met, she’s always just been so kind. we spent a sabbatical together, one summer, and that’s when i really fell in love with her.’
‘love at first sight, then?’ angela grins.
‘maybe not quite,’ ava says, then laughs. ‘i was… difficult, back then. obviously, i’m a total angel now.’
you roll your eyes and farha says, ‘oh, sure.’
‘we’ve been through a lot,’ ava says, softer and very sincere. ‘she’s — she’s the best person i know.’
‘well we need to meet her,’ you decide, even though you’ve been meaning to ask them both to shabbat soon anyway. ‘bring her to lunch friday?’
‘if that’s okay with everyone? i guarantee she has exceedingly good manners, much much better than mine.’
‘low bar,’ rosa says.
‘ha ha, very funny.’ ava tries her best not to smile but then does anyway, brighter than the noon sun overhead outside.
/
you’re just sitting down at the table, one extra seat this week, when ava perks up and then stands, steady and even, and you see who you know, from pictures ava has shown you, is beatrice, smiling a little nervously. ‘hi, baby,’ ava says, and beatrice takes ava’s hand and gently places a kiss to her knuckles, like a genuine knight.
‘absurd,’ angela whispers from next to you, and you try not to laugh loud enough for them to hear you, because they’re young but they’re not that young: they have a home together, and you know, from the few things ava has mentioned privately, usually on days that are too, too bright, things have been hard, and they’ve had to spend time apart in the past, and ava is thankful.
‘hello, everyone,’ beatrice says, her accent and posture extremely formal, in contrast to her casual but still, somehow, smart black hoodie and white sweatshorts and birkenstocks. her hair is in a messy bun, a few strands escaping that ava happily pushes behind her ears, and a big tattoo sitting above her left knee; she’s muscular and strong, but there are freckles spread across her cheeks and, when ava smiles at her, she softens, entirely. they are young, and, even though ava has shown you pictures, you’re still struck, in the moment, by how much they fit.
there’s a chorus of hi, beatrice and it’s so good to meet you and ava talks about you all the time, but beatrice takes it all in stride, a happy little smile on her face. you understand, quickly, that they fit, the same way you and aaron had, so long ago: ava is loud and overwhelmingly bright, enthusiastic and generous with all of her affection, and beatrice is quietly funny, whip smart, and thoughtfully attentive to ava. she turns and listens, fully, to whoever is talking, and knows about rosa’s birding, and the shrine farha talks about in lahore, and the new podcast angela is listening to. she’s impressive, as a person, and ava seems distinctly aware of it, basking, a little, in being chosen by someone so special.
‘sorry i’m underdressed,’ beatrice says after you order. ‘i was surfing this morning, and then had to jump on a work call, and i didn’t want to be late.’
‘everything okay?’ ava checks.
‘yes,’ beatrice says, soothes a hand along ava’s thigh and then squeezes her knee. ‘nothing of concern.’
ava squints. ’were you just asleep? you wouldn’t lie to me, right?’
beatrice pauses. ‘i was — well, catching up on some sleep, when camila called.’
ava barks a laugh. ‘bea is the sleepiest person i know.’
‘sleep is one of the great pleasures of life,’ angela says, regal and finite in her statement, ‘among other things in bed.’
beatrice grins while ava blushes. ‘now i know why you like coming to these classes and lunches so much,’ beatrice says, shooting angela a wink. ‘you do have a type.’
‘ah, and what a type it is,’ ava says, sighing for effect, seemingly recovered from her momentary emabrassment.
at the end of lunch, you do invite them to shabbat, and beatrice asks your favorite kind of kosher wine.
/
‘okay, you are all sworn to secrecy,’ ava says, leaning forward at the table. it’s not particularly quiet, because farha’s hearing aides can only do so much, and rosa flat out refuses to wear any, but there’s no on important around you anyway.
‘wonderful,’ angela says.
‘i love a secret,’ you agree.
‘well.’ ava lets out a big breath. ‘beatrice and i are going to switzerland, next week, to the alps, where we spent our first summer together, and i —‘ she shakes her head — ‘this feels so crazy, but i’m going to propose.’
it sends the whole table into a flurry of excitement, asking about ava’s plan — a hike, the one they would go on every tuesday together, slowly and for fun — and the ring ava had picked out — beautiful, and elegant, and perfect, you think — and, ‘do you think she’ll say yes?’
ava gulps. ‘i know she wants to spend her life with me.’ she sounds sure, and calm, despite her fingers nervously fidgeting with her napkin. ‘she was… very religious, for a long time, so, like, she’s always been really accepting of other same sex marriages, but i think it’s taken her a minute to get her to feel ready for, like, our own very queer marriage. sacrament, and all that, i guess.’ she shakes her head. ‘but anyway, yes! i think she’s ready. i think she really wants to get married.’
her smile is gentle, serene, and you had watched beatrice — in neat linen, her hair long and swept over her shoulder, fight her way through eating multiple bites of gefilte fish last friday, even though it was clear she hated it, and say prayers in hebrew, quietly. ava had been in her chair; you hadn’t asked, and neither had anyone from shul or your family, but beatrice had made sure that she had everything she needed, unobtrusive and practiced. ava had been, unexpectedly, the life of the party, charming everyone with her laugh and her silly puns and a very spirited debate with your granddaughter about women’s soccer. they’re a pair, you understood, very clearly: at the end of the night, ava had encouraged beatrice, gently, to take extra kugel along with the challah and chicken you’d already put in tupperware for them; beatrice had gotten their sweaters from the closet and handed ava’s to hers with a kiss to her forehead, tender and private, a moment that had belonged just to them.
‘we’ll all be eagerly awaiting the engagement photographs,’ angela says with sure gravitas.
‘post them on facebook,’ you tell her, and ava laughs, but she promises, later, when you give her a hug, that she will.
/
‘thank you, for inviting us,’ you tell ava, a bit in awe, if you’re being honest, of their house. she bounces around happily, and angela just looks at you with a raised brow for a moment. there are bright red and gold decorations everywhere, and beatrice walks over with a neat bun and beautiful jacket, embroidered so elegantly even angela seems a little in love with it.
’happy new year,’ she says, and you both give her a hug as you return the sentiment, then shows you to their kitchen, with a spread of chinese food that smell so, so good, and then gestures out to the open-air doors and patio that overlooks the ocean. ‘help yourselves to whatever you want. ruth, there are plenty of dishes that i made sure meet all kosher standards; they should be labeled. and there’s plenty of seating, and come find me if you need anything.’ she pauses. ‘or ava, but she gets a little… activated when we have a lot of people over.’
‘so, did we know how rich they were?’ angela says, loading her plate with everything she can after beatrice walks away to greet more guests.
‘not this rich.’
you both wait a beat and then laugh, and you find seats by the railing; your hip doesn’t hurt at all anymore. ava finds you both eventually and steals an egg roll from your plate with a laugh. ‘i’ll get you another one,’ she promises. ‘and, i just wanted to say, thanks for being my friends. i know it’s silly, but the water aerobics have really helped me feel better — and much less bored — when my mobility has been limited. and i love hearing about your lives, and sharing mine. i just —’ she scrubs her hand along the back of her neck, her hair neatly trimmed to her chin, fluttering in the breeze. ‘i went a long time without great role models.’
it’s so sincere and so touching. angela sniffles and you fish a hanky from your purse and hand it to her; she dabs her eyes.
‘don’t call us old,’ she says, voice breaking, and ava laughs.
‘i could’ve called you my adoptive grandmothers, so count your blessings.’
you roll your eyes when she takes a big, smiling bite of her (your) egg roll. ‘you are a blessing,’ you tell her.
ava swallows her bite and then leans to hug you, tight and sincere. ‘thank you,’ she whispers.
‘happy new year, ava.’
‘yeah,’ she says, a little teary but with a huge smile. ‘happy new year.’
#we have been talking abt ava & her bubbe for... Months !! lol#finally got to it#ava & the gals#ft sleepy bea#wn#warrior nun fic#avatrice#avatrice fic#prompts#also happy lunar new year!!!! this is the new year they're attending fyi if that isn't clear lol#also yes ava's type rly is like exacting smartly dressed women who are in fact taller than her
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1/1
Pain. Is it really temporary? Or are those just words to make us feel better? Pain is something that we all share in common 'cause we either experience it now or we've experienced it in the past. But how do we survive all our pain? How can we manage to still see another day knowing that it will still all hurt the same?
We have different reasons on how or why we have pain. We all have our what ifs and what could have beens. And we all have lies that make us sleep at night.
I have experienced different types of pain in my life but the pain of losing someone you truly loved stings the most.
THE PAIN OF LOSING SOMEONE YOU TRULY LOVED.
All my life, I have experienced loving someone in all the ways that’s normal. I have sent countless good morning and good night messages, said thousands of I love you’s, shared how my day went, listened to all the rants and many more. And for the young and immature me, that was it. That meant love. Never planned on fully committing myself for the rest of my life ‘cause I was the type of person that didn’t want to be contained. Until she came in. She changed everything.
All of those norms were just simple. It was the first time I really did want to commit. That was the first time that I offered myself to her for the rest of our lives. In short, I imagined a future with her, a life with her.
I had a lot of first times in this relationship. This was the relationship that I thought would be my last. If it was not her, it wasn’t anyone. I loved her first. She came in, smiled at me, heard her laugh, and that’s all it took for me to fall in love with her. I saw how her eyes sparked whenever she smiled. I enjoyed every moment hearing her laugh and I also loved the way I held her hand. It was the hand that I wanted to hold on to forever, the hand that I wanted my face to feel every morning we woke up, the hand that would help me stand up whenever I was down. I still remember the first time she hugged me. I was feeling a lot of pressure that day, nothing can calm me down. She went to where I worked, bought me my favorite food, said nothing but just hugged me. That’s the comfort that only she could give me. This was the only relationship where I couldn’t sleep if I wasn’t beside her. Cause I liked to hug her and make her feel that she’s safe. Now I don’t get to do that anymore. Writing this one makes me cry. It’s really hard remembering everything we’ve been through, good or bad. It makes me miss her more. But there’s nothing I can do and I know that this is the right choice.
The love I have for her is still as genuine as the first time I laid eyes on her. Maybe it won’t go away but I’m starting to be okay with that. I’m so used to loving from her afar because that’s how it was before. I loved her so much even though she didn’t know. Now, I’m slowly moving forward with my life. I’m starting to forget the face that was my favorite for more than a year, I’m not sure how her voice sounded like, I’m forgetting how her hands felt while touching me. And that’s okay.
Maybe this phase of my life was meant to be a lesson. I wanted it to work so badly but that’s just how life goes. There are things we can’t control.
If in any case you’re reading this, after you left, I’ve been doing good. I have accepted the fact that we’re over. There are some nights that I can’t help but to think about you. But I’d rather cry my heart out at 3am than fake-smile all my days with you knowing that I’m hurt and have a lot of worries. I’ll be better, but not for you, but for me!
Cheers to the love that we didn’t want to let go but we had to! :>
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Follow you - Chris Evans smut
The one where Chris becomes your roomate and finds out he has a domesticity kink... and more
Warnings: Smut, breeding kink, domesticity kink, friends to lovers, rommates au, pandemic mention, hair-pulling kink, daddy kink, cockwarming, kind of allusion to an age gap, but can be read as reader being into teasing chris
Word count: 4.1k
A/N: Thanks to @mollygetssherlockcoffee for reading this over and helping me make it better! You’re the sweetest person ever! this is for my own birthday celebration challenge! Like I explained here, I’m going to try to fill every single AU I listed with the characters I picked for the challenge, and since the deadline if May 27, these fics will be posted randomly, as I finish them. Hope you guys like it!
Chris’ P.O.V.
“C’mon, sweetheart,” I’d been trying to convince her to close her laptop for the last two hours, unfortunately without any luck. She just glanced at me before returning to her document, and I groaned as I left the living room in search of what I knew we needed.
“Close the laptop and I’ll give you a sip.” This time when she looked up, she found me holding a bottle of my most expensive whiskey, the one she’d been dying to try ever since she first got invited to my place.
It was a tense moment of evaluation while she took in my offer and her workload, her head turning from her computer to me and then back to the device again, and I found himself growing anxious because of how desperately I wanted her company that night.
“Please?” I tried to convince her, even going so far as to pout - which at least earned me a giggle. I considered it a win, especially with the way it made my chest warm up. “C’mon, we deserve it! After the week we had?”
She frowned when she thought back on the stresses we had confided in each other for the last couple of days, and I watched with glee when she slowly closed her laptop, prompting me to wave my arms around in victory. “We?” She teased, getting up to stand before me with her arms crossed in front of her body, making me laugh.
“Alright, so maybe just you.” I couldn’t really deny that my work “problems” paled in comparison to hers. “Listen, I’m only trying to help.” She narrowed her eyes at me, reaching out for the bottle and unscrewing it before taking the sip I’d promised.
“Shit, this really is good.” A smug smile took over my face as I wrapped my arms around her, walking us back to the couch before making us fall over it.
“Only the best for you, babe.” I watched her roll her eyes at the pet name, snickering at how it affected her. I knew it made her giddy and she hated it, it’s why I insisted on doing it - or so I told myself.
Something deep inside of me whispered differently, though. I tried to ignore it. She was my best friend and we were going to be living together for the foreseeable future. No one knew when this pandemic would let up.
And lord knows that nothing positive had ever come out of my investments in romantic relationships. So every rational thought in my mind was begging me not to overcomplicate this. I couldn’t stand to lose her friendship, anyway. That’s why I had invited her to spend lockdown with me - my need to know she was okay, and be able to have her around whenever I needed to vent.
She was the only one outside my family who got my anxiety well enough to help me work through it when I was feeling bad, and she had even been able to prevent me from having panic attacks more than once.
I just couldn’t imagine going through this with anyone other than her. I simply hadn’t anticipated how fucking horny this period of forced sexual privation would make me, and I never expected her to become a willing victim to my needs.
But boy, once the liquor hit and she ended up over my lap, shivering as she rode my thigh without a care in the world, was I glad that she did.
“Is this what you like?” I asked, looking up at her with my mouth hanging open, unbelieving of how fucking sexy she looked as she used my body for her pleasure. I didn’t even care that my cock was straining against my jeans, begging me to move her on top of it. As long as I could keep enjoying the show, being a part of it, I was satisfied.
“I wanna learn it,” I pressed, moving my hands to hold her ass, squeezing it the way I’d always wanted to do but never allowed myself to dream about. “I wanna learn how to please you.” She made me feel something I hadn’t felt before, in any of my past relationships. There was attraction, of course, but there was also this deep, familiar feeling that made me feel at home. It made me feel safe, and with the help of alcohol, I was desperate to explore it.
“Ugh,” she groaned, letting her head fall back, drawing my attention to her breasts, the way they bounced in front of my eyes, unfortunately still covered. My mouth watered at the sight of it, wanting nothing much than to strip her bare and wrap my lips around one of her nipples.
“Don’t say stuff like that, Evans.” The comment threw me off, making me frown as I took a hold of the hair on the back of her head and yanked her to me, devouring her lips. They were soft - so much softer than I’d ever allowed myself to imagine.
“Why not?” I panted against her mouth once I was forced to separate from her taste of whiskey to search for some oxygen. She kept moving, her eyes hazy and glossed over, and it sent a pang of lust straight down my body when I realized it wasn’t completely due to the drinks we shared. There was also desire in there.
“You want to learn?” She asked, hands bunching up my shirt as she used her hold to grind against me faster. “Then fuck me, Chris.” She molded her body to mine, engulfing my lips once more as I laid her down on the couch, excited to have her underneath me - excited to see her naked body, explore it, get to know every little thing that made her tick.
I knew it would be a moment I’d forever remember, regardless of the amount of bourbon in my blood. I just never expected it to become something I was so eager to relive over and over and over again.
It was supposed to be a one time thing. When I woke up in the morning, I was ready to go back to being roommates. We were good at that. She was a morning person, by the time I woke up every morning, she already had breakfast ready for me, and then we’d go out to the backyard to let Dodger out together.
We’d sit and talk and then I’d go for a run - she’d have done her yoga already, while I was still asleep - I’d answer some e-mails, she’d work on her laptop by my side and the silence was just as comfortable as all of our late night conversations.
She’d sneak out to the kitchen and come back with a few sandwiches for our lunch, and then the rest of the day would go by with us doing whatever mundane task we had in mind, together even if we were doing separate things, and I didn’t feel suffocated.
I didn’t even run out of things to say. By the time dinner rolled around and I followed her back to the kitchen, cleaning up the dishes while she fixed us dinner - I wasn’t allowed to cook in my own stove, mostly because she was terrified of my food but hid it under the excuse of that one time when I started a fire - then we’d eat together, watch a movie together, talk until we fell asleep - always together.
I was shocked. It’d never been this way in any of my previous relationships. In fact, I was certain it was the reason why they had never worked. I’d given up on any realistic expectation of settling down precisely because of this: I just never expected to find anyone with whom a day-to-day life wouldn’t eventually grow boring.
It’d been three months and I still loved to wake up to her coffee. We still fell asleep every night side by side, too tired to move into different beds because we had laughed our asses off after skyping Scott.
And now that sex came into play in our relationship? I just knew there was no way I’d ever go back to being nothing but friends - or living in a place where she wasn’t the first person I saw when I woke up.
It sucked that it took a pandemic and a night of alcohol to make me realize that, but damn, was I grateful that I decided to open a bottle of whiskey that evening.
I kept waiting for the catch, the moment it would all go to shit, but it never came. Our lives resumed to how they used to be, only now I had this ongoing inner battle to not just bend her over the nearest piece of furniture when we were busy, and the ability to do exactly that whenever there was nothing else to do.
And for a while it was bliss. There wasn’t a nagging voice inside my head questioning this arrangement because it was theoretically perfect. I had a best friend, a roommate and a fuck buddy, all wrapped into one single person that I adored.
Life couldn’t possibly get better - until I realized that I wanted more. Talks of lockdown being over started and she had plans of going back to her place, of course, but I couldn’t stand the thought of being away from her.
I wanted to see my family too, but I wanted to take her with me. Introduce her to my mom, see her get along with my sisters. Witness how she’d be with my nephews and nieces - I knew how much she loved kids. And that’s when it hit me.
I’d given my heart to her. Somewhere between the morning coffees and afternoon runs, the nights where I’d rant about all of my silly problems and she actually listened to them - really listened, never making me feel bad about what could only be described as rich people problems.
All the innocent little gestures, and the not so innocent ones - when I discovered she was exactly the nasty slut I’d always dreamed of, the way she would randomly drop to her knees and suck me off, even while I was on the phone. Most times she didn’t even let me repay the favor. She just genuinely liked to blow me.
She also liked to play with me randomly, like when we were watching a movie and she mindlessly reached for my crotch, rubbing me until I got hard. It almost always ended in sex, and I just loved it.
I loved it, and I loved her, and the idea of her ever sharing this idyllic lifestyle with anyone else made me irrationally jealous.
And that’s how I knew it. I didn’t want to mess it up. But how could I not fuck this up?
Xxx
“Chris…” Her sweet voice called out to me, reaching my ears while I was hiding in my office, trying to get my thoughts in order so I wouldn’t just randomly blurt out what I was feeling for my best friend to my best friend.
To her credit, she didn’t try to force me to keep her company - but that only made me fall even deeper for her, leaving me a complete and utter mess while she went about her day as if nothing was wrong in the world.
“Yes?” I looked up to see her by the threshold, clearly reticent about invading my privacy. It made me smile, thinking back on all of the times my exes hadn’t been as understanding, even after I let them clearly know what I was needing.
“I made cupcakes, do you want me to bring you one?” The thought of her in the kitchen, baking a sweet treat just for me had my cock twitching in my pants. Biting my lips, I pushed away from my desk to finally get up and stretch my legs, taking advantage of the monitor to hide my hard-on.
“No, I’ll come eat them downstairs with you.” She smiled before leaving, and I soon trailed after her, walking into the kitchen to find the most delicious-looking little treats, just waiting to be devoured.
Much like her, I supposed.
I was reaching for one of them, already licking my lips in anticipation when something caught my eye, prompting me to raise my gaze and look at her again, but really look at her this time.
She was wearing an apron.
There was nothing inherently sexual about the damn thing, but the way she looked with it, going about her business in my kitchen like she owned the place… It just felt right, seeing her there.
And suddenly I couldn’t hold back anymore.
“Y/N…” I started, leaving the cupcake back on the counter and brushing off the crumbs as I circled the kitchen island to go stand in front of her. She hummed before turning to meet me, smiling slightly to signal that she was listening to what I had to say.
But I didn’t know how to say it. So we just stood there, staring at each other until eventually her smile became a frown. “Chris, what’s going on?” I still couldn’t speak. Much to my absolute surprise though, she just sighed, wiping her hands on the apron while shaking her head, a knowing smile on her face.
“You’re stressed, aren’t you? You’ve been working so much, that’s why I thought the cupcakes would be a good idea,” she explained nodding towards the tray where her sweet treats laid. “They’re a reward and a break all wrapped in one delicious cake.”
The comment was like a punch to the stomach - or a scalding wave of desire rushing through my body, straight to my groin. The idea of her thinking about my needs and catering (quite literally) to them just did something to me, and I didn’t know how to explain it - I don’t think I understood it myself.
“But since they didn’t work…” she continued, blissfully unaware of the conundrum she had put me into. “I know something else that will definitely work.” And just like that, the woman dropped to her knees in front of me, reaching for my sweatpants before I could find a way to close the mouth that was hanging open.
“I guess I’ll grab a sweet treat for myself.” She looked so devious, small hand encircling my already pathetically engorged member, that all I could do was whisper an, “Oh, shit,” when she immediately wrapped her lips around it, starting to suck me off without any preamble.
My fingers were white as I held onto the counter behind me to keep myself up. She looked so good, staring up at me with her lips wrapped around my dick, I felt like I was about to blow already.
Why did she have to be such a fucking tease?
“Oh, God,” I moaned when she managed to engulf the entirety of my member inside her throat, the choking noises getting to my head. My hand instinctively laced with her hair, first to hold her lips close to my navel, then to pry her completely off of my member.
“What’s wrong?” She questioned once she was able to speak, surprise written all over her features while I was still staring down at her slightly teary face and trying to find my voice.
“I-I have a problem.” There. I said it. I had finally made some progress in my goal to let her know what was going through my head. Only instead of curiosity, what I got was a confused expression from the woman still holding my dick, her eyes darting from my own to the member throbbing between her fingers.
“No, you don’t!” It would have been funny if I wasn’t so fucking frustrated. Yanking her by the hair, I complained, “Not that kind of problem!” pulling her to the living room so I could throw her on the couch, trying to ignore her moans of pleasure in the process.
I’d figured out pretty early on that she had a pretty serious hair-pulling kink, and if my plans of sitting down and having a level-headed conversation were ever in motion, they surely went out of the window the second she pulled my body down to cover hers and adjusted my cock so it would easily fill her.
“Son of a…” I groaned, letting my head fall down against her chest as the little vixen gleefully giggled underneath me, legs wrapped around my torso as she tried to thrust up and tempt me to move.
“Just wait a second,” I managed to reason, but she just shook her head.
“Fuck away your problem, Chris. Use me. I want you to.” Motherfucker. I really couldn’t catch a break with her. Just as she started to make me move again, my hand instinctively wrapped around her neck, lightly squeezing it just enough to get her to shut up.
“I wanna start a family with you,” I finally spilled, looking deep into her eyes as I tried to ignore that I was still balls deep inside of her. Her eyes widened, and now her mouth was the one hanging open.
I couldn’t really relish in it because she looked absolutely delicious and she felt stupidly heavenly to my throbbing dick.
A few seconds went by without as much of a reaction from her and I was about to pull out - despite still being achingly hard - but her legs held me tighter, stopping my plans of leaving her tight haven.
“You know…” She started to speak, a little out of breath, catching my attention as I finally gathered the courage to look her in the eye again. “When I first met you, I thought you were the epitome of a fuckboy.”
The unexpected sentence had me snorting, and then I just couldn’t stop laughing. Finally pulling away from her, she fixed her hair when she sat up and I did the same, shaking my head slightly as I rubbed my eyes.
Our own relative nakedness - well… mine, she was wearing her usual dress with no underwear under the damn apron - didn’t affect anything when I pondered over her words, until I decided to break the silence.
“I mean… I think I was?” She chewed on her bottom lip as she took in my response, analyzing it, weighing its validity in that gorgeous head of hers. I was nervous, but she hadn’t blew me off yet. And quite honestly? I’d do anything for that little hope that was growing inside of me.
“What changed?” Was her question, so unexpected I couldn’t help but question, “Huh?”
“What made you change?” It wasn’t an unwelcome inquiry, especially when the response became clear to me, lighting up my brain and warming my chest, spreading all over my body until I had no choice but to voice it.
“I realized I could have a future with you.” My smile was vulnerable but honest, and in her eyes, I could see that she knew that. When she threw one leg over my lap, straddling my hips, I allowed myself to breathe deeply again, leaning on the soft cushion while taking a hold of her ass.
“So, how are we gonna do this?” She non-nonchalantly asked, slowly rubbing herself against my still half-hard member. I groaned when I realized the implication of her words, knowing that the meaning paired with the feeling of her wet lips dragging along my cock would get it back up in no time at all. “You wanna do me right now?”
The brashness of the question made my eyes light up, as weird as it may sound. In that moment, it became clear just how perfect for me she really was, giving me what I needed exactly in the way I didn’t know how to ask for it.
“See? This is why I’m in love with you.” She rolled her eyes at that, making me laugh. I’d anticipated the gesture, I knew it’d take her longer to say it, but it was alright. The fact that she was willing me to give me a child was more than enough proof of her feelings for me, if her entire behavior ever since she moved in wasn’t already.
“Shut up and fuck me, Evans.” Throwing her back against the couch, she yelped in surprise when I took off my shirt and slapped the inside of her thigh, assuming my usual position of hovering over her smaller frame.
“Spread your fucking legs, darling. I’m gonna fuck you real good.” The way she bit her lip as I slowly penetrated her again showed me just how excited the prospect got her, and as I started to make good on my promise, her moans told me just as much.
“Holy fuck,” she commented as I pounded her ruthlessly, weeks of frustration and the rush of anticipation getting the best of me, and I was glad for the feeling of her nails biting into my skin because otherwise, I’d probably run over the edge of not even caring about her own pleasure as I chased mine.
“You gonna cum inside of me, honey? Make me a mom? Finally fulfill your dream of becoming a daddy?” Her words detracted me from my task of sucking bruises on the skin that was now mine to bruise, mine. I threw my head back, yelling a, “fuck yes,” as my hips sped up, desperate to fill her up, but I was determined to get her to cum before me.
“Say it,” she ordered, small hand circling my throat as best as she could, a throwback to what I’d done only moments prior. It wasn’t enough to choke me, but it did catch my attention. “I wanna hear you say it.”
Tears escaped the corners of my eyes as I blinked, the intensity of the moment overwhelming in the best of ways. “God, you are such a fucking tease…” She chuckled underneath me, giving my throat a squeeze before she raised up on her elbows to kiss my jaw.
“Better get used to it… daddy.” And just like that, I realized that I had yet another kink I hadn’t known about before her. Or maybe it was just her, and I was obsessed with the damn woman, painfully turned on by every little thing that she did.
“I’m gonna cum deep inside your little pussy, sweetheart,” I finally gathered myself enough to do as she asked me to. “You’re gonna belong to me forever now. Give me kids, make me happy. How do you like that?”
The mischievous grin she gave me told me everything. “I love it.” I knew this was her way of saying what she couldn’t yet voice, and I’d take it. I’d take anything she gave me, any chance I got to love this wonderful woman.
We came together, both riding our highs in deep ecstasy. I moaned when I felt myself empty all of my seed inside of her, incredibly excited about the prospect of starting our future together right then.
“You’re so fucking beautiful.” I cradled her face in my hands as I struggled to catch my breath, but she turned it to the side and pressed a kiss to my palm and I was breathless all over again. It was such a simple action, why did it get to me so much?
“You’re not too bad yourself, Chris.” I didn’t want to part with her warmth, so I just adjusted us on the sofa in a way that kept me inside of her, sighing contently as I realized I’d never have to sleep away from her again.
“I’m gonna stay right here all night.” I adjusted myself so I was resting my face on her boobs, perfectly happy to do just so, but by the tone of her voice, I knew she had a teasing smile when she called me an, “Old man.”
“And here I was, thinking you’d be able to go again.” Warmth filled my chest at the realization of just how badly she wanted me - just as much as I wanted her too. I was so damn ecstatic. Not even her pokes at my age would be able to affect me.
“Oh, darling… better get ready,” I warned as I adjusted myself to hover over her again, taking notice of the excited glint in her eyes, the way she bit her lip as she stared back at me. “I’m never gonna get enough of you.”
The next morning, I added a new kink to the list of random bits of information that were driving me slowly insane as I felt the overwhelming need to bend the woman that I now got to call ‘mine’ over the nearest piece of furniture and rail her until I had cummed deep inside her pussy: seeing her in my shirt while cooking breakfast.
Yeah, I was going to live a happy life by her side.
#my 2k challenge#chris evans smut#my fics#chris evans#smut#roommates au#friends to lovers#chris evans x reader#chris evans reader#chris evans reader insert#chris evans reader inserts#RPF#chris evans fanfiction
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LUCID | NCT DREAM ‘00 LINE X READER | CH.6
LUCID DREAMS - A TYPE OF DREAM WHEREIN THE PERSON IS AWARE THAT THEY ARE CAUGHT IN A DREAM WORLD.
Summary: It was supposed to be a harmless, professional transaction. You were to tutor a group of boys, get your pay at the end of the day, and go home to your loving fiance. Kids aren’t supposed to be dangerous, right? So why, then, are you caught up in a web of madness that slowly makes you feel like you’re in a living nightmare?
NOTE:This is a yandere plot featuring NCT Dream ‘00 line which means there will be mature themes in the story as well as obsessive, toxic behavior. If you’re a minor, please refrain from interacting. If this isn’t your thing, then just scroll and skip. In no way am I condoning anything written here— this is not love, this is obsession—nor do I think that any of the people mentioned here will act any way like in this story. This is purely a work of fiction.
Genre: yandere, horror, suspense
TW: abuse, obsessive behavior, toxic relationships, suggestive scenes, stalking, possible kidnapping, mental health. Age gap–though nothing dramatic. Everyone is of legal age, drugs, slight smut for this chapter but nothing graphic, questionable consent (?) I guess? Creepy, creepy, creepy! This will be updated as the story goes along.
CHAPTER 1 | CHAPTER 2 | CHAPTER 3 | CHAPTER 4 | CHAPTER 5
“EVERYONE HAS A DARKER NATURE. EVERYONE. GOOD MEN FEAR IT, AND EVIL MEN EMBRACE IT.” - JAMES ISLINGTON
The silent hum of the air conditioning filled the space like a foreboding chant. Nothing else but the sound of the hospital machinery and random noises outside pierced the stillness of the room as you stared, unseeing, at the green and orange numbers that blinked on the monitor above the bed.
You barely have any recollection of how you managed to find yourself in the hospital, but you do remember brief memories of Taeyong picking you up from the floor you found yourself crumpled on after you got the call. You remember seeing Jaehyun's parents at a brightly lit corridor and his mother pulling you into a hug as she broke down and his father telling you how his son hasn't woken up since he was brought to the emergency room.
You remember your heart breaking in shock, mind too numb from the godforsaken pills you have been taking and your own injury. So many times you wondered to yourself if you were still caught in one of your nightmares, but every time you tried to break free from it, you're slapped back with the reality of how all of this is real.
Your fingers gently tightened on Jaehyun's hands now as your gaze landed on his face. He looked so peaceful, like he's just sleeping, that you almost wanted to bend over and try to kiss him awake. You don't even have any idea what time and day it is already, but you have barely left his side since you were brought to him. The nightmares and sleeplessness? They're barely a problem for you anymore because right now, you're entirely not resting at all unless your body forces you to crash from physical exhaustion. Even then, you usually only sleep for about two to three hours at best to make sure that you never miss a moment with your fiance.
"Severe traumatic head injury. He was lucky enough that the airbag shielded him from the worst of the impact."
The words of his attending doctor echoed in your head again like a faraway voice. You could only remember bits and pieces of what he said to his parents back then as he reported his findings, but you caught enough context for you to draw a picture of the situation. You remember Jaehyun's mother asking the chances of her son waking up again, her voice barely holding up from her emotions.
"I cannot promise anything, Ma'm. I'd say he has a 60 percent chance. He's fighting."
And he is. You know Jaehyun inside out. He might be unconscious now, but there is no way he is giving up. Not from something like this.
"Keep fighting baby…" you whispered in the stillness of the room as you lifted his hand gently to your lips to kiss. "I'll wait for you. We still have a wedding to do."
The slight creaking of the door barely made you look away from his sleeping face. You only did at the gentle sound of a throat clearing, your eyes slightly widening as you recognized the man who just walked inside the room. Taeil had the same mildly shocked look on him as he stopped on the other side of the bed across from you.
"You…"
"Are you a relative of the patient?" He asked now as he tucked his clipboard under his arm. You simply nodded, watching him quickly glance at the numbers on the monitor before his eyes settled on you again.
"I'm his fiancee."
That made him raise his brows slightly. He pulled a pen now from the pocket of his coat to quickly write something on his file. "What a coincidence. Not a good one obviously. I'm sorry to hear about him. Mr. Jung, right?"
You swallowed. You didn't want to acknowledge anything that he just said so you tried to divert the conversation instead.
"You're not his doctor. Why are you…"
"Oh. He was turned over to me today. I am one of the resident neurologists here but he had to be moved to me because his first doctor has too much in his plate already. Don't worry, I was briefed properly about his case."
Your gaze followed Taeil as he bent over to check Jaehyun's oxygen level as well as the other wires attached to him. You don't know what to feel about him taking over, but at least you already know him previously.
"Are there any changes? Positive ones?" You asked in a frail voice that Taeil definitely didn't miss. You told yourself to not act silly and ask questions that probably do not have answers yet, but you couldn't help yourself now. The man seemed to think over his words first, noticing your state, before calmly giving his reply.
"No particular ones, but the fact that there are no negative developments is… something. I will have to request for some tests to be done on him again tomorrow so we can see if there are positive changes in his brain."
Neutral. Not good, but at least it's not bad either.
"How are you? I was about to check on you again. Is your head okay?"
You were still thinking over his words that you barely caught his question. Looking up, you tried to scramble for an answer to give. To be honest, you haven't given proper attention to your own injury since this happened. You would even only remember to take your medications on your clearest, less anxious moments, which, honestly, isn’t a lot.
"I'm uh… the wound has closed. But the headaches. They're still there."
He simply nodded. "Any other side effects?"
You didn't immediately answer. You didn't want to sound whiny, but it's not like you're going to lose anything by telling him the uglier parts of your recovery. You swallowed to try and dislodge the slight blockage in your throat.
"Nightmares…" you said now, voice soft. You briefly remembered the last one you had back in the manor before you woke up to the bad news and you felt your stomach turn again. "Lots of them. Hallucinations sometimes…"
The doctor watched you carefully and you know he is trying to compute things in his mind despite his face remaining calm.
"Have you been keeping to your schedule with your medications? Are you taking too much?"
You firmly shook your head no to his last question.
"No, I haven't been overdosing. But… I've been skipping my pills the last few days because of...because of this."
"How have you been feeling since you started missing your dosages then? Do you remember?"
That made you actually stop and think about it for a moment. Now that you are paying attention, you did notice how the nightmares have calmed down slightly. Even the hallucinations are almost gone. You frowned slightly to yourself.
"A bit… better actually."
Taeil took his time to observe you a bit more before writing something on a new page of his clipboard.
"You must have had severe reactions to the mixture of pills I gave you. I'm going to prescribe you new ones and ask the nurses to pick them up and bring them to you here. Can you promise that you'll try and take them though? You really need them to fully heal."
You nodded and gave him a slightly sheepish look.
"I will, thank you very much."
Taeil dug his hands into the pockets of his coat and gave you a gentle smile.
"Well, that's it for today. I'll come back tomorrow to give you updates about Mr. Jung." He had already turned and started walking away when he suddenly stopped to look at you again.
"Oh, and another thing. Please try and get some sleep. Recover… and then focus on helping your fiance."
******* You didn't really know what woke you up. Stirring from your sleep, the first thing that registered to you was the sound of distant traffic mixed with the gentle chirping of the morning birds from outside the window. A warm feeling radiated on your cheek and made the back of your eyelids glow red.
You flickered your eyes open and immediately rolled away to escape the ray of sunshine that slipped from the open curtains and shone directly at your face. You easily evaded it as you moved over to the other side of the bed which was empty and cold from the night before.
That was when you finally remembered that you were back in your home, in the same bedroom you share with Jaehyun. The day before, his mother offered to take the responsibility of watching over him so there was a sudden change of plans that finally gave you the reason to check back into your apartment after so long. If it were you, you would have preferred not leaving your boyfriend’s side until he wakes up, but you also knew that your future mother-in-law wanted to spend time with him so you relented.
Of course you weren't thrilled to be home alone, especially with Jaehyun not being there, but the comfort that a real mattress provided—over the small couch you used to sleep in back at the hospital—is definitely a welcome change for your body. You even tried to take your medicine properly, the new ones that Taeil had provided, in the hopes of getting knocked down fast. Your adrenaline and anxiety had been fueling you in the past days, but you know from the way your heart thumped and your hands shook that you need a solid rest.
And you got it. You still feel a little groggy now but your body is definitely lighter and your head clearer. The nightmares didn't even come, and while they were replaced by total darkness or dreams in white that still made you anxious, you are willing to take those anytime over the graphic ones that you used to have.
You gently sat back against the headrest of the bed now and reached out for your phone to check the time. It's barely 7AM but as expected, Jaehyun's mom has already provided you with updates from the hospital. He’ll have some tests taken today as Taeil advised and then they’ll hear more about his progress. From the looks of it, she seems still set on watching over her son, which means you still have at least today free to yourself.
You quickly typed a reply to her and sighed. You’re thankful that even though you weren’t related by blood, his parents have always treated you as if you were their own. Having a family is not something you’ve really experienced in your childhood, so that’s something you’ve always appreciated about them. That is also the reason why you wish for the best out of this situation, because you also couldn’t bear seeing your fiance’s mother and father heartbroken. He’s their only son, after all.
A quick look around your room left you feeling empty. The last week has been so hard that it felt longer and now you’re struggling to find your normal pace again. In an effort to bring yourself to focus, you decided to pick up your phone once more and started flipping through your calendar to check your schedule. It didn’t take long for you to frown when you realized the upcoming dates there. You’ve plotted important academic schedules in advance and one quick look at it told you how much you’ve obviously missed in the past week. You’ve been so lost in the mess of everything that has happened that you’ve entirely forgotten about your job at the manor. You realized that they didn’t even call you once to ask about your absence, probably because they also know about the situation, but even that is not enough excuse for you to entirely fall off the radar.
Biting your lip, you quickly scrolled through your contacts now to look for the number you need. Your thumb hovered over the call button momentarily, but you eventually pressed it anyway. Your eyes wandered towards the clock on the wall, hoping silently to yourself that it wasn’t too early for you to call.
“Rosewood Manor, how can I help you?”
You straightened on your seat.
“Hey, Taeyong. It’s me. Sorry if I called so early.”
The other boy seemed to have been taken slightly by surprise by the way he fell silent at the other end of the line. You tapped your finger against your knee, waiting for him to speak again.
“Hi. No, it’s fine. Work started for me about an hour ago. Are you okay? How’s things on your end?”
You nibbled guiltily on your lower lip and finally got off your bed to walk over to the window. You pushed the curtains open and stared at the slight snowfall that had started falling on the ground. You’ve missed so many days of reporting to them but the first thing he does is to check if you’re fine.
“I um—things are still the same. My boyfriend’s still at the hospital.”
“Oh… I’m so sorry to hear that.”
“Look, I want to apologize. I haven’t really reported to work and I didn’t even call about it. It’s just that—things have been so crazy lately, but still that isn’t an excuse for me to just not show up.”
Taeyong, however, was understanding as always. You were about to go off for another round of apologies when he gently cut you off.
“Hey, it’s fine. We know you’ve been dealing with a lot lately so we also weren't expecting anything. Don’t worry too much about it.”
“But, the boys’ examinations and portfolio review is happening in three days and I haven’t really checked in with them. How are they doing now?”
“Oh...that. Well, we actually tried looking for a temporary tutor to help out but I...uh… I think he isn't really cutting it. Maybe because he isn’t the one who started the program with them. But he’s a big help still.”
“Oh god, I’m so sorry about that. I should have at least—look, I can drop by today and just try to fix things.”
“Are you sure? You really don’t have to. Don’t you need to be at the hospital?”
You started going around your room now, trying to gather the scattered papers and files that you’ll need. It’s a good thing you woke up early so you still have time to prepare for work. “My boyfriend’s mother is the one watching over him today so I have the day off.”
“And your injury? How is it?”
Your eyes landed on the new bottles of medicine sitting on your bedside table.
“Better. I’m feeling so much better.”
You heard Taeyong sigh in relief over the phone. “Thank god. We were so worried about that. Well, you really don’t need to go, but if you have time, I guess doing it today won’t hurt. It will help us a lot.”
A small smile tugged at your lips now and you switched the phone over to your other ear as you started arranging your bag. “Thank you so much for being understanding. I need a distraction anyway. I’d rather work than stay home alone… Thanks for not firing me.”
That made him laugh a little. “I’ll tell the boys that you’re coming over. Oh, and be careful on your drive here. The roads are a little bit slippery today because of the snow.”
“I will, thank you. I’ll be there by 9.”
******* “Noona!”
You have barely finished arranging your materials on your desk when the door to the room burst open and ushered an anxious-looking Jisung inside. You looked up quickly at him, only barely catching Chenle wobbling with his crutch before your vision of the entrance was blocked by Jisung’s tall frame. His hair looked swept up as if he ran and there was a slight flush staining his cheeks. He stopped right in front of you, stopping just in time for him not to topple you over.
“Hey, Jisung how are—” You tried to give him a smile but he was quick enough to grab your hands between his.
“Are you back? Are you really back for real?” He pressed now, eyes wide as he tried to bend over to look closely at you. He looked like a puppy, the only missing thing being a wagging tail to complete the look. You couldn’t help the brief laugh that passed over you as you tried to calm him down.
“I am. For the day, yes. Sorry I missed so many of your sessions.”
“We thought you left us,” Jisung continued, his lower lip protruding just a bit. Just then, Chenle had finally reached the two of you, a slightly embarrassed look on his face. This is actually the first time you saw him again since the day the two of you had your accident and you’re glad to see him healthy despite his broken leg.
“Hi, Chenle. How are you?”
The boy scratched the back of his head and looked away slightly. “Fine… I’m sorry, noona. I wasn’t able to visit you when you stayed with us. I’m really really sorry about what happened in the forest.”
You tried to give him a reassuring smile and freed one of your hands from Jisung’s hold to ruffle his hair. The action seemed to have calmed him down a little because he finally looked at you again, a small apologetic smile on his own lips.
“Don’t worry about it. It’s not your fault. But be careful next time, okay?”
“Are you going to be our tutor again, noona?” Jisung pressed once more and you turned your attention back to him. To be honest, you’re still not sure how your schedule will turn out after this, but you couldn’t really bear to break the poor boy’s heart at the moment.
“Yes… I’m here to teach your big brothers today for their tests though. We’ll have to schedule you and Chenle’s lessons again. Is that alright?”
A brief look of disappointment flashed on his face but he was quick enough to pick it up. Jisung smiled and gave your hand a squeeze.
“Okay. We can wait. It’s good you are back, Jaemin-hyung was so—”
“Yah, don’t hog her by yourself. You’ll scare her away.”
A new voice made the three of you look back to the doorway. Haechan smiled at your little group as he strolled casually into the room followed by Jeno and Jaemin. The three of them joined your crowd and you felt Jisung finally let go of your hand as he stepped away to go over to his brothers’ side.
“Hi. Sorry, I only returned now. Taeyong told me that you—”
You weren’t able to finish what you wanted to say as Haechan gently stopped you mid-sentence. He leaned his head to the side, eyes briefly scanning you from head to toe. Unlike Jisung, he looked calm and only barely excited.
“It’s fine. We knew you’ll come back. How are you?”
“Oh… I’m good. My head is better. I haven’t had the chance to thank all of you for taking care of me when I was here.”
“How about your boyfriend?” It was Jeno who asked this time and you quickly turned to him to address his question. Your eyes briefly slipped to Jaemin who was standing behind him before you could even speak though, and for a moment you had the impression that Jeno was shielding him—or blocking him from you. You blinked a little bit in confusion, wondering if it was just your imagination that was making you think that way.
“He’s still… still unconscious,” your smile dropped a little but you tried your best to keep your voice casual. “We’re getting more tests for him. His doctor said that he isn’t showing bad signs at least.”
“I’m so sorry to hear about him,” Haechan said with compassion and you gave him a grateful look. Your gaze settled on Jaemin again, however, who for some reason had barely looked at you since he came into the room. You know that he can be quiet and reserved at times, but there is something in the air around him that makes you slightly worried. He’s so still, but the way he carries himself makes it seem like he’s so strung up at the same time. It also doesn’t help that Jeno seems to be almost pushing him back from view.
“Hi Jaemin… How are you?” You tried to gently ask him to make sure that he is okay. He didn’t look at you at first, but when he finally did, you felt yourself freeze a little. His eyes looked dark and almost emotionless when he met yours and there were shadows under them as if he hadn't slept properly for days. He didn’t even answer and just simply stared, his gaze blank and accusing at the same time.
Haechan casually glanced over his brother and chuckled. “Our Jaeminie here has been sick for the past couple of days so he’s a little out of it. But he’s going to be fine now,” he put a hand over the other’s shoulder and gave it a slight squeeze as if to calm him down. “Right, Jaemin? We’ll try our best to go to class today since noona is finally back, hmm?”
Jaemin, however, didn’t even seem to hear him. He continued staring at you the same way that kept you pinned on your spot.
“Are you leaving again?” he finally asked and you almost felt goosebumps rise on your skin. It didn’t sound like a question… but more of a threat. You swallowed.
“I’m going to have to arrange my schedule till things get better…” you answered carefully, as if you’re navigating dark waters. That didn’t seem to cut it for him, unfortunately.
“So you’re not leaving. Forever?”
You blinked. To be honest, you’ve been thinking of quitting and just finishing the rest of the month if things didn’t improve, but you don’t think that’s the right answer to give at the moment.
“No… not for now,” you finally managed to say. You watched as Jaemin seemed to visibly relax, his stiff shoulders loosening under Haechan’s grip. He didn’t say anything after that, but he at least looked away, seemingly more satisfied with your words.
“Great. I think we should get to work,” Haechan broke the silence and looked around the room as if the tension you were feeling was just something only you could feel. He nodded towards Chenle and Jisung then. “You guys go back to your own classes. You’ll have your share of noona once it’s your turn.” He then glanced at you, smile still in place. “Should we start then?”
You nodded. “Is Renjun still not back?”
“Not yet. He’s going to be here tomorrow though,” Jeno answered as he took his seat on one of the desks.
“I see…”
Haechan also found his spot, but not before you’ve noticed him urging Jaemin to do the same. Playfully, he took the pencil you’ve arranged on the desk and started tapping it against the wood of the table.
“Don’t worry. We’ll tell him you’re back. I’m sure he can’t wait to have his lessons again~”
******* You looked over the window for the third time in the last fifteen minutes and sighed. The day had been busy with you trying to catch up on the boys’ lessons that you barely even noticed the state of the weather outside. When you finally did, it took you by surprise when you saw how much of the ground was covered by snow—one look at it told you that it is at least a feet deep by now. Your first instinct was to try and maneuver your car out of the lot before your tires get entirely buried in it, but then you remembered that you promised to wait for Taeyong to come back before leaving the manor. The butler requested for you to temporarily watch over the manor while he tries to do some last minute errands back in the city, but it’s been two hours since he originally promised to come back. You eyes glanced at your watch now, then back at the quickly darkening view outside.
“...severe snowstorm has blocked some of the main roads in the city at the moment. Expect heavy traffic and don’t forget to drive safely.”
You turned to the television now to catch the last of the rambling dialogue of the reporter about the weather. You’ve been debating on whether to call Taeyong or not to check on him, but you didn’t want to seem impatient to go home when you only really wanted to make sure if he’s safe. From the looks of it, he’s stuck somewhere because of the hale, too.
You were on your way to get your phone from your bag to at least try to shoot him a message when you suddenly heard it ring. Getting it just in time, you almost sighed in relief when you saw his number there. You quickly took it and went over to the window to answer it to make sure you get some proper signal.
“Hello? Taeyong?”
“Hey. Finally. I’ve been trying to call you for the last hour, thank god it finally connected.”
“Oh, sorry, my phone’s in my bag. I think the signal’s getting bad because of the snowstorm. Where are you? Are you okay?”
“Yeah, about that, I’m still stuck in town. The traffic’s so bad here because a section of the main road is blocked. Road maintenance is supposed to come thirty minutes ago but I think there’s a delay because there are other roads they are working on.”
Your gaze drifted back to the television where scenes of the same blocked avenues were being flashed. “Yeah… the news says the same. Are you safe though?”
“I am. I’m really sorry for making you wait. I’d tell you to drive back and not wait for me anymore but I don’t think you’ll also make it home in time with all this traffic going on. I don’t think it’s going to be safe. Do you mind waiting for a little bit more? I’ll tell you once the roads are better.”
You thought it over quickly, a frown settling on your face. You really want to go home, but he’s right. There’s no point in trying to drive back if you’ll only find yourself stuck in the roads for hours. Not being a big fan of night driving yourself, you can already imagine the stress waiting for you if you add a snowstorm to the mix. As much as you wanted to leave, you’re left with no choice, at least for the moment.
“I can… I’ll just wait for you, I guess. Do you want me to do anything here while you’re gone? Dinner for the boys?”
“Oh no, no, you don’t need to do that, that’s not part of your job,” Taeyong sounded abashed when he said that. You stepped away from the window then and took a seat by the fireplace that Jeno started earlier. Half of your concentration was on the news which has now shifted to a different set of reports also caused by the snowstorm. “They’ll know when to go down and eat. Don’t worry about them. Where are they right now?”
“Ah, I think they went back to their rooms? I did tell them earlier that I’ll try to wait for you.”
“I see. Yes, I think that’s better. Don’t worry, I’ll keep you updated. If things don’t get better, I think I’ll have no other choice but find a hostel here and wait for the weather to calm down. You can stay there and just ask for help from any of them. You can stay in the same room just in case.”
You didn’t quickly react to the offer. Instead, your eyes flickered to the doorway of the room before refocusing your attention back to the conversation. It’s not like you have anything against spending the night again at the manor—you’ve done it before, after all—but it’s honestly not really something you’re comfortable to do again. Maybe it’s because you’ve never really been okay with overstaying at strangers’ houses but your gut feel is also telling you right now that it shouldn’t be your top option regardless of the situation you are in.
Still, you didn’t want to come off rude to Taeyong, not when he is only being kind to offer you temporary shelter while being stuck in the middle of nowhere himself. So instead, you went against your initial doubts and offered him your thanks in return. It’s just Plan B that he’s proposing after all.
“I will. Keep me updated though if you need anything you think I can help with.”
“Thank you and I will. I have to go now though. Please make yourself at home. I’ll try to call again after an hour.”
“Okay. Take care.”
You put your phone down now with a worried frown as you heard the line drop. You couldn’t believe this is happening the first day you got back to work but it’s not like you can really blame anyone for it. The only good thing is that you’re sure Jaehyun is being taken care of right now so that is at least one thing off your shoulders. You didn’t really need to rush anywhere, not especially to a vacant home. Leaning back against your seat, you tried your best to relax as your gaze travelled around the room once again. You deliberated on sending a text to your mother-in-law to tell her about your situation but decided against it, not wanting to worry her more. You sighed. For now, you guess you didn’t have any other choice but to wait.
You did try to distract yourself by watching the news for a few more minutes before finally giving up on it. With resignation, you picked yourself up from your seat again and turned the television off. For a moment you simply stood in the middle of the room, trying to figure out what to do with your time when your gaze settled on the door again. Everyone retreated to their own rooms after they finished with their lessons so it means the house is pretty much yours for exploring if you wanted to. You toyed with the idea for a little bit, before finally resigning yourself to it. It’s not like there really is anything else left for you to do, and Taeyong did say you can make yourself feel at home if you wanted to. With a sigh, you finally turned on your heels to leave the room and peered silently into the hallway. It was deserted as expected, but still your eyes travelled left and right to check if there’s anyone out and about at this hour. It was only after you made sure that you were alone when you finally allowed yourself to step into the corridor.
Of course, you have a plan. You’re pretty much sure that checking out the rooms on the first floor is acceptable since it’s where you’ve been rotating your classes so you’re going to stick to those areas. You remember finding a library there once and you focused on finding your way to it to maybe check out some of the books in the collection.
It did take you about five minutes to finally find the place you were looking for. For some reason, the sections in the manor always confuse you no matter how many times you try to memorize each one, probably because of how big and similar-looking they are on the outside. You’ve already tried four doors when you were finally welcomed by the familiar-looking bookshelves at the fifth one. You sighed and gave one quick look around the room before slipping yourself inside after making sure that you’re alone.
There will probably never be a time when you won’t find yourself fascinated by anything in this grand home. If the architecture of the mansion is not enough to convince anyone how rich the family is, their book collection is enough to assure that at the very least. You’ve only ever taken a quick glimpse of it once during one of your lessons with the boys, but one look of the titles in their shelves is enough to make any literature major excited. You looked at the floor to ceiling collection now, your fingers gently running over the spines of the books you could reach with a small smile on your face.
You were about to check out the rest of the collection on the other side of the wall when something in the middle of the room caught your attention. You didn’t really catch it at first because of the shadows that concealed it when you first came in, but you could pretty much discern the outline of a blanket covered standee now from where you stood. You frowned. Taking careful steps, you closed the distance towards it to try and figure out what exactly it is that you’re seeing.
A closer look revealed it to be an easel covered with white cloth. You could see the outline of the canvas where the blanket falls over it while shadows of colors peeked out into the thin fabric from the surface it was covering. How odd… you knew that Renjun had a different art room for his paintings so to see this now here in the middle of the library seems uncanny.
You didn’t know how long you remained standing in front of it, too. You know you should have walked away—after all, the white cloth hiding it away from plain view means whatever is on that canvas is not meant for everyone’s eyes to see, but you simply couldn’t tear yourself away from it. It’s as if there was a silent force asking you to pull that cloth to reveal what’s underneath, the inclination so strong that you could almost hear its voice breathing down next to your ear, unrelenting until you do what it says.
The next thing you know, you had your hand attached to one end of the fabric. You stared at it now, wondering last minute if you should go ahead or not. You swallowed and glanced around one last time around the room. If you’re alone… it wouldn’t hurt if you could take a peek, right? Nobody will know. You just have to see, then cover it back again. Before you could even think about it too much, your arm was finally moving on its own as it gently tugged at the covering. You watched as it fell gently on the floor, like a bodiless ghost melting into the shadows on the ground.
Your eyes couldn’t make out what you were seeing at first. The dim lighting of the room wasn’t helping at all, but you were sure that it was a woman’s silhouette that was staring back at you from the canvas. Colors swirled around her, like some unknown mass trying to drag her back into unknown depths. Shapes and tones jumped from the picture, but her form stood out from the rest, gracefully twisted as if she was in the middle of trying to fight and succumb to it at the same time. You frowned. Taking a step closer towards it, you tried to study its details under what little illumination the lamps above afforded you.
That’s when it all happened simultaneously. Your heart stopped beating the same time your eyes widened as they finally focused on what’s in front of them. It’s as if the ground suddenly vanished from underneath your feet and you were falling, falling, deep into the abyss despite your body being frozen in fear and shock.
You know this painting. You’ve seen it before. It was the same one by Renjun, the one that you saw on your first day working in the manor.
But it was different now. Instead of the unfinished state that caught your attention before, everything about the picture now is in sharp focus. The lines on the woman’s nude body, the hands—which you thought were simply dark swirls dragging her back—and her face twisted beautifully in pleasure and madness stared back at you like a nightmare.
But it was not those which truly shook you to your core. It’s the realization that it was your own face in the portrait that was staring back at you, silently screaming for you to run away.
You stumbled back in shock. Your chest felt tight as you tried to grasp for air while your hands fumbled to find something to hold on to keep you from crashing on the ground. Before you could even take another step, however, something hard hit your back and you felt strong arms wrap around your waist like a vice. You have barely realized what was happening when you felt someone lean over your shoulder, lips pressing against the shell of your ear.
“Isn’t it beautiful? You’re the perfect muse, don’t you think?” Renjun asked softly as he pressed a gentle kiss to your temple.
******* You didn’t know how long you stayed frozen in his embrace. For a brief moment you thought you were dreaming again until you felt his arms slowly tighten around your waist. As if a jolt of electricity shocked you, you immediately turned to push him away as you scrambled to put some distance between the two of you.
Renjun didn’t seem the least bothered when your eyes finally focused on him. He remained on his spot, his gaze on you unwavering. You, meanwhile, were shaking from head to toe, the vision of the painting still branded vividly in your head.
“Renjun—what’s this?” you managed to stutter as you pointed at the artwork in the middle of the room. You couldn’t even spare to look at it again while he merely gave it a casual glance.
“It’s you. I’ve been working on it for a long time. I was about to show it to you but it seems like you couldn’t wait for it yourself.”
You felt nauseous. A part of your rational mind was slowly losing it as you tried to process his answer. Something's not right. Something is so terribly wrong.
“Why—why did you do this?”
Renjun simply stared at you and leaned his head a little bit to the side as if he was only mildly curious of your reaction. Your stomach turned even before hearing his answer.
“You said it’s beautiful.”
“This is not right—!”
“I came home because they said you were leaving for good,” he continued speaking softly, effectively cutting you from what you were about to say. The hairs on the back of your neck stood on end and you took another step back as you watched him get close to his artwork. You watched in horror as his thin fingers lovingly ran over the corners of the canvas. “Jaemin almost lost it… It’s a good thing I got here on time.”
And just like that, everything seemed to have clicked into place. The glances, the touches, the words that seemed to have a different undercurrent under them… they weren’t just fragments of your imagination. Every little thing that has gnawed at you from the inside came into crystal clear focus and you felt your knees go weak from the weight of it all. It took every fiber of your being to try and keep yourself steady now, your legs moving on their own as they took small backward steps away from the boy staring at you now with dead eyes. You couldn’t breathe, but it was the last words he told you that finally snapped you to run.
“I don’t think you’ve realized it yet. But no, you cannot leave. Ever.”
You didn’t know where you got the energy for it but in seconds you were flying out of that room and running blindly down the darkened corridors. Your blood pumped noisily in your ears and your chest felt like it was going to split from the sudden exertion you put on it, but you didn’t stop, not even looking back as you tried to put as much distance between you and the library. You didn’t even know where you were going. All you’re focused on is to find the exit and leave the house as soon as possible.
A loud bang that sounded off to your right startled you and you screamed, the force of your shock making you whip around and almost lose your balance. Before you could even hit the floor, however, a pair of hands caught you and you immediately turned, grasping at the chest of your rescuer.
You froze. Haechan smiled down at you as he tried to steady you on your feet.
“Haechan,” you gasped as you took fistfuls of his shirt and tried to shake him in your panic. “Renjun—he’s—please, help me. He’s after me—” you gasped out, almost out of your wits. You’re on the verge of a total breakdown that it almost escaped you, the way he simply smiled down on your shaking form. It was only when you felt one of his hands gently caress the top of your head that reality slapped you in the face again. You suddenly stopped struggling in his hold, pupils shaking as you watched him study your features lovingly.
“Shh… it’s fine. I got you,” he whispered and you could swear ice pricked you from the inside. A slight movement to the right made you turn your head and you saw Jaemin lean casually against the banister of the stairs, his face serene. He gave you one quick look before a gentle smile finally lit up his features.
“Has it started?” he asked and you felt Haechan’s hold on you tighten.
“It has.”
You didn’t struggle. It was as if any trace of fight you had left you in that moment and you let your hands fall limply on your sides. Haechan also loosened his grip on you and you stared at the two boys blankly, your chest heaving as if fighting for air. They didn’t move from their spots and simply followed you with their eyes as if relishing the fear and realization flashing in your face.
Trapped.
You’re trapped.
You’ve always been.
You didn’t even realize that your legs had started moving again on their own as the pieces of the puzzle started to fall together in your mind. You were only shaken from it when your back finally hit the front door, the cold metal of the knob pressing against your spine. Jaemin and Haechan remained on their spots still, even as you blindly reached out for it from behind.
You were expecting it to be locked, so you were a little bit surprised when you felt it give way under your hand when you tried to turn it open. Just before you could even entertain the idea of escaping, however, any trace of hope you had quickly died as you turned and came face to face with Jeno standing right in front of the entrance. He didn’t look the least surprised seeing you there, as if he was waiting for you in the first place.
You eyes took in his calm countenance before slowly moving to stare downwards at what he was holding by his side. Your gaze locked on it in fear, and that’s when the flight response in you flared up again.
Jeno’s hunting rifle shone dully in the light of the entryway, his pale fingers wrapped on its handle.
“There’s really only one place you can run, noona, but I won’t advise it,” he said evenly and you felt your blood freeze in your veins.
“After all, no matter where you hide, I’ll still find you in that forest.”
It happened all at once. You broke into a run, your body screaming at you to go faster as you heard gunshots pierce the air.
---
CHAPTER 7
A/N: Good lord, I wasn’t expecting I’d finish this today but I got one large iced coffee and well... things happened. Anyway, enjoy! Let’s hope the format won’t mess up this time. T.T Finally, all hell broke loose~ <3
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#nct dream yandere au#nct dream yandere#nct dream yandere fic#jaemin x reader#jeno x reader#renjun x reader#haechan x reader#nct dream 00 line fic#nct dream 00 line x reader#nct horror au#nct dream yandere imagines#jaehyun x reader#yandere!nct dream#yandere!jaemin#yandere!jeno#yandere!renjun#yandere!haechan#nct-writers#yandere!nct dream 00 line
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Immortality and Nymphs Pt. II
(Philza x reader)
Kisses. God Phil missed your kisses against his skin most of all, you were always so warm and gentle. He couldn’t wait for you to be a constant in his life once again, he walked all three of you back to his home. Wilbur was eyeing you the entire time almost like he was trying to find the differences between himself and you, thinking, The boy looked much more like himself than he did you, but there were tiny similarities here and there. You didn’t seem to mind though when he asked you questions you answered them truthfully. Once they arrived back at his house Wilbur stood up a little straighter,
“As much as I’d like to stay and talk more, Fundy and I need to get going.” He trailed off a little looking at you, “I still have thousands of questions but I have a revolution to plan.” Wilbur continued as you raised a questioning eyebrow, Phil’s wings ruffled a little as he cleared his throat.
“You should come back next week with the others.” Phil gave a slight nod of his head, “I’ll send a crow to Techno.” Fundy was the one to whip his head and nod eagerly, Wilbur adjusted his glasses but eventually nodded.
“That should work.” Wilbur turned to face you taking a shaky breath, “I’ll see you then?” A tender smile spread across your lips as you reached out to cup Wilbur’s cheeks.
“I’m not going anywhere again baby boy,” You whispered as he flushed hesitantly leaning into your touch “I promise.” He pulled away, clearing his throat taking Fundy’s hand as he waved.
“Bye, grandpa! Bye, grandma!” The fox hybrid called and Phil watched as you flushed deeply. Phil wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you close, his wings spreading around your body like a cocoon. You giggled softly as he nuzzled his face into your neck, his beard prickled your skin, you missed the feeling.
“Fundy seems sweet,” You mused as the man behind you kissed the skin of your neck. Phil only hummed in agreement which caused you to laugh, “you’re so not paying attention to what I’m saying are you?”
“What?” You burst into laughter at his genuine confusion, “Come on now. I missed you, can you blame me? You’re distracting.” Phil let out a little huff as you pulled away to face him,
“Then show me how much you missed me my crow,” You purred running your fingers through his feathers, you felt his entire body shiver as his breathing hitched. His fingers dug into your hips,
“Careful. They’re sensitive and wouldn't want a pretty thing like you to get hurt.” Phil teased pressing his forehead against yours,
“Oh, I remember.” You winked teasingly as Phil leaned in to swallow your words with a blistering kiss. He felt you melt against his body as his wings fluffed up, both of you poured all your love and admiration for each other into one another. It was then Phil knew nothing changed between the two of you even after all these years apart, there was still the same amount of love and longing you always shared. Phil lifted you into the air and you hooked your legs around his waist, he felt young again, back in the forest by his old home. He felt you giggle against his lips and pull away to rest your forehead on his own, he chased your lips almost desperately. Your hand came up to cup his cheek and he closed his eyes to lean into his palm, “Take me inside first.” You murmured and his eyes lit up mischievously.
“If I remember correctly you never had a problem with making out in the woods before.” He watched your face turn beat red as he smirked proudly, he adored getting you flustered which way to Sunday.
“Yeah well, I’ve lived in the woods all my life. I think I’m ready to stay with my adoring lover in his house, is that really such a bad thing?”
“No. I’d never be opposed to something like that, not when I’ve missed you this much. It’s all I’ve ever wanted, living with you and raising Wilbur, being a family.” He watched you visibly wince and guilt ebbed at his heart, “Hey, hey you had to do what you needed to. I’d rather have you alive and here now than dead or worse.” Phil reassured and you seemed to relax a little bit in his arms,
“I wish I could’ve been here to raise Wilbur with you...I wish I could’ve seen him grow up.” Your voice wavered a little as Phil pulled you close, he hesitated slightly trying to find the right words to say.
“I wish you were there too. But you’re here now, you’re safe and that’s what matters. Plus…” His cheeks flushed a soft pink, “we could always try again.”
“Jesus Christ Phil,” you giggled covering your mouth with your hands and he looked embarrassed. “I just got home Crow, let's give it some time. But...I’m not opposed in the future.” Phil’s face lit up again and he nodded rapidly, he could agree with that, maybe once you built a better relationship with Wilbur and his other boys that’s when the both of you could try again.
Oh god, the other boys. When he invited them all here next week, he hoped they’d make a good impression if not Dadza was going to craft a belt.
“How long has it been since you’ve had an actual meal?”
“God decades!”
He chuckled deeply, kissing your cheek, and led you into his house to have a nice warm meal. Having you around definitely took some getting used to, his days suddenly shifted around as he accommodated for another person but he didn’t mind. Phil woke up happier than he'd felt in a long time, you were curled up against his chest, the top of your head was right under his chin. He ran a hand through your (h/c) hair, letting it run through his fingers, even though it’s been about a week he still felt like you weren’t really beside him.
Wait a week.
His eyes snapped open and he shot up like a rocket, feathers flying everywhere as you groaned, “Crow? Everything alright?” You asked adorably rubbing your eyes, his stress melted away momentarily as he watched you wake up. A few flowers bloomed in your hair as you came to your senses.
“Everythings fine! Just remembered it’s Sunday and the others don’t usually follow set times.” He pulled you from the bed giving you a quick good morning peck on the lips. “Get dressed, something nice I wanna show you off,” He kissed you again longer this time you giggled.
“To who? Our son and your friends?” He gave a happy little nod, as you rolled your eyes, he felt your fingers fix the hair on his face, Phil closed his eyes and leaned against your touch. “But I’ll do as you wish my Crow,” You stood up from the bed and stretched your arms above your head. Phil had managed to get some clothes for you from a nearby village, he still remembered your style, but tried to make it more modern so you didn’t stick out like a sore thumb. You slid on the new clothes, they hung off you loosely. They clearly needed some tailoring, and you slid on the boots he got you the day before, as much as you like walking around barefoot it was pretty impractical.
“Shall we?” Phil held his arm out to you, you wrapped your arm around his own as he led you outside. You both stood on a hillside covered in soft green grass and a big willow tree. Phil looked down at you, his big wings gently covering your back from any danger, he was sure not feeling the grass between your feet was a foreign feeling to you but you didn’t seem to mind. The smile on your face said it all, you were peaceful and relaxed, letting the breeze flow through your hair. “You’re beautiful,” your eyes snapped up to him your cheeks turning light pink,
“Oh stop it old man.” He made an indignant sound as you laughed, your hands reached up and dragged him down to your level, kissing him tenderly. Phil felt his eyes flutter closed and his wings drop, he was snapped back to reality by loud whistling. You pulled back and he pushed you behind him, wings puffing up defensively, standing on the side of the hill were Wilbur, Tommy, Technoblade, and Fundy. Tommy was the one whistling eyes sparkling mischievously, Wilbur whacked him on the back of the head to get him to shut up.
“Dad! Wil’s being mean to me!”
“Don’t be mean to Tommy Wil,” Phil pressed his fingers to his nose with a sigh “Wilbur don’t antagonize your brother.” Fundy was cackling at their mischief, your eyebrows shot up on your forehead and Phil cleared his throat, face pink. Technoblade just stared seemingly eyeing you suspiciously, “(Y/n) these are my other sons. Boys this is (Y/n) Wilbur’s birth mother.” It was Technoblade’s turn for his eyebrows to raise and Tommy’s jaw dropped to the floor,
“No shit.” Tommy gawked, “You don’t look like her at all Wilbur! You’re so ugly, must’ve gotten that from Phil. Sad.” You burst into hysterical laughter watching Phil glare over at Tommy. Wilbur was seething at his sibling but ignored him in favor of giving you a light hug,
“Good to see you, mom.” He whispered,
“Good to see you too.” Phil heard you respond and hug him back, Wilbur whispered something to you and you made a little surprised face before nodding. Phil assumed he told you that the other boys were not in fact his biological children, but those he had adopted. Fundy soon joined in the hug snuggling into your stomach, you ruffled the young fox’s head and he chirped happily. Tommy walked over to introduce himself to you next, he proclaimed to be not only Phil’s favorite son but Wilbur’s favorite brother too. Which lead him to then boldly declare he’d be your favorite as well and Wilbur sent him a scathing look, ah yes, Phil knew that look rather well. Wilbur inherited that look from you, nose all scrunched up and eyes sharp. You shook the young boy's hand and happily told him you couldn't wait to see him fall into the number one spot. Wilbur shot you an offended look and Phil covered up a laugh with his hand, the offending look was sent to his father next,
“Dad.”
“What?” Phil laughed holding up his hands, “If he wants to win your mother’s attention I’m not gonna stop him. Every man for themselves.”
“Phil,” You nudged him with his elbow “be nice.” Tommy began to boast about how awesome he was in comparison to his brother, you sent a wink to Wilbur’s, and his shoulders visibly relaxed.
You were his number one, anyone with a brain could see that.
Phil noticed Technoblade had his eye on you the entire time, it took him much longer than the others to gain trust. He decided to walk away from you to stand by the hybrid's side, “Hey mate.” Technoblade only grunted in response, arms crossed over his broad chest protectively, “What’s crawled up your butt eh?”
“You didn’t tell me ‘bout her.” He motioned in your direction with his chin, “you tell me everything. Why not her?” Technoblade was trying to remain stoic but after all these years he could tell he was hurt. Phil sighed softly scratching the stubble on his chin as he watched Fundy run around you trying to fight for your attention.
“It was hard for me to talk about, she didn’t leave on her own free will. Her life was in danger and I didn’t know if I’d ever see her again. It was a shock when she came back last week, a good shock but a shock nonetheless. (Y/n) was my everything, is my everything. I kept it from everyone because I hoped it would keep her alive and safe from those who wished to harm her.” Phil looked over at Techno, for once Phil’s eyes showed his true age, “I’m sorry mate you know I would’ve told you if I could. Doesn’t take much for me to start gushing ‘bout her. I mean look at her.” Phil glanced back over at you, Fundy was on your shoulders, his hat on your head, meanwhile, Wilbur was wrestling with Tommy on the ground. You looked over at him desperate for his help and Phil only smiled over at you and shook his head. Your eyes screamed distressed as you tried to get the boys to stop fighting, Phil felt Techno’s eyes on him and he looked back at his son and friend.
“I understand I suppose,” Technoblade sighed rubbing the back of his neck, “You wanted to protect her. I can’t be mad at you for that, but no more secrets alright? Promise me?”
“Promise. Now go say hi to her before she gets upset and thinks you don’t like her,” Phil nudged him forward and his eyes widened a little,
“Heh? Phil hold on-”
“(Y/n)! This is Techno.” Phil clapped the man on the back, you looked up at him with a kind smile.
“Pleasure to meet you Technoblade, I like your cape.” Phil watched the man flush in embarrassment at the compliment,
“Eh...thanks. Like your flowers.” He motioned to the flowers blooming in your hair, you beamed brightly at him, always happy to talk about your flowers.
“Thank you, sweetie!” His ears turned red and he waved you off anxiously, he moved to peel Tommy away from Wilbur, wanting to get out of this conversation. Fundy hopped off your shoulders to tackle his father and you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding in, “wow. They’re…”
“A lot?”
“Yes.” You laughed fondly, “but…”
“I wouldn’t trade them for the world.” Phil nodded kissing you on the apple of your cheek,
“Good. You better not. They’re all my sons now. I hope you know that” You leaned against his chest, he laughed and you felt his chest rise and fall.
“I’d expect nothing less from you.”
Letters. That’s how most of you communicated in the years to follow, Wilbur would send letters and you would beam in delight. It melted Phil’s heart, he knew his son was busy with the revolution and the now Presidency but he wished he’d visit his mother. You would write him back almost immediately after receiving a letter, you’d seal the letter with a kiss before sending it off with one of Phil’s crows. Afterward, Phil would take you in his arms and pepper you in tender kisses, you would giggle and snuggle into his arms. He told you he loved you, and you cooed and told you loved him back, then you both would share a kiss. Phil loved those days the most, seeing you truly happy made his heart swell. There were days where Phil taught you how to fight, days where you would garden, and days where he let you groom his feathers. He loved that, grooming was another one of the things he missed the most, you got out all the tangled feathers just perfectly. He would lean back against your hands head falling on your shoulder as he panted, his pupils were blown wide as you hummed fondly.
So, maybe Phil enjoyed it a little more than he remembered.
It was a cold autumn day when the letters stopped coming, you were heartbroken, always anxiously petting and feeding his crows. They could sense your disappointment in waves, it was almost choking Phil himself, his heart ached to see you so sad. He pets your hair gently as you both sat on the hill with the willow tree, he noticed the bags under your eyes were dark, Phil’s frown only deepened.
“My love please smile for me, I’ve missed it so much these past few weeks.”
“Somethings wrong,” Your voice was soft looking up at Phil “He wouldn’t just stop writing to us. He always writes to us.” He hated the way your voice quivered, “what if he changed his mind about me?” Phil shushed you softly with a kiss,
“First of all, there’s no way he changed his mind about you. The way the both of you bonded these past few years, Wilbur wouldn’t throw that all away for no good reason.” He tried to reassure you, “Although, I will admit this is strange. Wilbur isn’t one to not write to me, it’s something he’s always done ever since he was old enough to spell.”
“Crow…” You whispered, “can we visit him? Just to put my mind at ease...please.” Phil’s heart melted as soon as he saw your puppy dog eyes, he nodded and you smiled.
Good. He was going to keep that there as long as he was physically able.
The next day, Phil scooped you up in his arms and you headed towards the direction of his son's new nation.
It was called L’Manburg if Phil remembered correctly.
What the both of you didn’t expect to see was a war zone, “Phil…” You murmured eyes wide in fear, he held you to his chest, your brow furrowed in worry. He swore he could see Tommy and Techno looking up at them from below, it didn’t ease the anxiety prickling at his skin, the sky suddenly went black with crows.
A bad omen, something bad was going to happen, and they knew it.
“Phil they’re distressed. Somethings wrong.”
“I know hon,” Phil looked around worriedly, he spotted a glance of Wilbur walking into some sort of room. He landed just outside the entrance, he put you on your feet, “Stay behind me.” He instructed you, you nodded your head clutching onto his bicep. The both of you stepped into the dimly lit room, there were scrawlings etched into the wall, all scratched in by Wilbur. Your brow furrowed in concern, fingers dancing across the lettering, “what’re you doing?” Phil spoke, his tone flat and serious, looking dead at your son, wings spreading out behind him.
“Wilby?” You asked softly as he slowly turned around, his big brown eyes were wet and wide.
“Mom…” He whispered, “I didn’t want…” Wilbur looked away from you and grit his teeth, “Welcome to L’manburg. Sorry, you have to see it like this, war-torn and broken. I wanted you to see it in its prime, a shame you didn’t visit sooner.”
“Wilbur, don’t do this,” Phil said watching his son look longingly at the button in the middle of the wall, almost with longing. “This is your country, it can be fixed. Things can be rebuilt, it’s where you raised your son,” Phil continued his entire body tense and nervous he was too aware of the sword on Wilbur’s hip. Phil reached out his hand as you walked towards Wilbur,
“Baby boy…” You whispered tenderly, vines slowly growing out of the cracks in the floor. “Don’t do this I only just got you back, please think about what you’re doing.” Wilbur’s brow furrowed watching you smile softly holding out your arm, “Everything will be alright I promise you. We can help you.” He let out a wet laugh running a hand through his brown curls, his pointed ears visible.
“It’s not the same nation anymore. There was a special place where people could go but it’s not there. It’s no longer the nation it once was Mom.”
“It is there. You've just- You've just won it back, Wil!” Phil spoke up in opposition to his son.
“MOM, Dad, I’m ALWAYS SO CLOSE to pressing this button, Phil! I've BEEN HERE like seven or eight times, I've been here seven or eight times...Phil, I've been here so many times…” All of you jumped a little at the sound of crackling fireworks outside, “They're fighting. They're fighting!” Phil and you glanced at one another, there was a beat of silence.
“And you want to just blow it all up, You fought so hard to get this land back... So hard.” You argued reaching out to cup his cheeks, he melted into your palms, snuggling into them like they were his last lifeline.
“I don't even know if it works anymore, Mom, I don't even know if the button works, I could, I could... press it.”
“Do you really wanna take that risk?” Phil laughed, “There is a lot of TNT potentially connected to that button.”
“Phil... There was a saying, Phil. By a traitor. Once part of L'Manburg. A traitor- I don't know if you've heard of Eret? He had a saying...It was never meant to be!” He tossed his hand back and slammed it against the button, you let out a devastating shriek pulling Wilbur into your arms to try and protect him from the blast. Phil felt pure adrenaline enter his bloodstream as he flew towards you and his son. His wings wrapped around the both of you and you whimpered, some of his feathers caught fire and he squeezed his loved one’s harder. Wilbur meanwhile let out a roaring cry “MY L'MANBURG, PHIL! MY UNFINISHED SYMPHONY, FOREVER UNFINISHED! IF I CAN'T HAVE THIS, NO-ONE CAN, PHIL!”
“Oh, my god…” Phil spoke, his voice quivering with horror, Wilbur looked down at you, hurt and pride swam in his eyes,
“Are you proud of me mama?” He whispered softly as your thumb caressed his cheeks, Phil glanced down at you ignoring the pain in his wing, your eyes were wet but you were still smiling.
It didn’t reach your eyes.
“I’ll always be proud of you Wilbur. I’m your mother, and I love you, I’ll always love you.” He let out a little cry, you were so genuine with him, your love was smothering him. Wilbur looked up at his father and grabbed his wrist,
“Kill me, Phil. Phil, kill me, Phil kill me!” Wilbur broke away from his hold and tossed his sword Phil’s way. Phil caught it in his arms the lines in his forehead creasing with worry, “Phil, stab me with the sword, murder me now, kill me! Killza, Killza, do it! Kill me, Phil! Murder me! Look, they all want you to! Do it, Phil! Kill me! Phil, kill me!”
“I- You're my SON!”
“Wilbur NO! PHIL DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE!” You cried as Wilbur shoved you away from him, your growing distress caused vines to spill into the room, filling it with greenery, nature wanted to protect you.
“No matter what you- dude, no matter what you've done, I can't-” Phil’s voice cracked, his knuckles turning white against the hilt of the blade.
Wilbur slammed his fist against the wall, “Phil, it's- LOOK! LOOK! HOW MUCH WORK WENT INTO THIS, and it's GONE!” He grabbed Phil’s hand and shoved the point of the sword into his chest, “Do it. Do it.”
“PHIL!” You sobbed grabbing onto his other arm, eyes red and puffy, fat tears were running down your pink cheeks.
The man squeezed his eyes tightly, his throat closing up, he couldn’t look at you, he could feel the look of horror that was slowly spreading across your face.
“Phil. I’m begging you we can get him help, I can’t lose him. Not again, not when I’ve only just got him back.” You choked out, “he’s my baby. He’s our baby.” You were clinging to Phil desperately, your smile was gone, he failed you and he failed his own son.
“Do it, Dad.” Wilbur interrupted you, you let out a desperate cry and Wilbur shushed you softly, brushing away your tears. “It’s better this way,” Wilbur leaned down and kissed your forehead, “I love you and I forgive you.” He looked back at Phil and his disintegrating right-wing, guilt ate at him, “It’s time.”
Phil let out a deep breath, jaw tense and he felt you bury your head in his uninjured wing. He ran his sword through his son’s chest, Wilbur fell forward against the blade, he choked on the blood in his mouth, it flowed out of the corners and stained the front of his shirt. Phil felt you move to look but he covered your face with his wing once more, “Don’t look darlin’” He whispered as your sobs only increased, Wilbur slowly died in his arms with a smile on his face that would forever haunt Phil’s nightmares. He stroked Wilbur’s hair as he slowly faded out of existence, three lives completely snuffed out, Phil was part of giving him life and was the one to take his final one. Once Wilbur was gone you crumpled to the floor loud sobs echoing in the chamber, he fell beside you and wrapped you in his arms, you clutched his beanie to your chest.
“It’s alright. It’ll be okay.”
“Okay! Philza Minecraft how the FUCK is this gonna be okay!” You snarled in his arms but he only held you tighter, “Our son...our baby is dead.” You choked holding your hand to your mouth, the vines that had grown started dying feeding off your agony. “He’s gone…” You whimpered letting Phil caress your hair and plant kisses on the top of your head.
“We’ll get through this. I promise you.” He swore up to you cupping your cheeks within his hands, you sniffled a little and gave a small nod of your head. You were drained emotionally and physically, Phil’s heart ached in his chest.
“You’re hurt…”
“I’ll be alright,” He tried to stretch out his wings he flinched as pain shot up the right side of his body. Phil’s wing was charred to bits, you both knew the unspoken truth that he’d never fly like he once did, Wilbur wasn’t the only thing Phil would mourn.
“We need to set up a grave for him. Under the willow tree, I’ll plant yellow flowers. That way he can always be close to us so long as we live there,” You looked up at him eyebrows pinched so tight “Please.”
“You don’t need permission Darlin’.” He whispered to you resting his forehead against your own, “If that’s where you want it that’s where it’ll be.”
“Good.”
Phil slowly helped you to your feet, you weren’t injured, a few cuts and scrapes he took the majority of the damage from the explosion just like he had planned. He hissed as he tried to put pressure on his left ankle, “Fuck me. I’m too young to need a cane.”
“Eh,” You smiled weakly “Wouldn’t say that.”
“Shut the fuck up.” You giggled softly, your laughter significantly improved his mood, even if it was a minuscule adjustment. “We all can’t be as spry as you,”
“What can I say some of us have it and some of us don’t.” You smirked slightly hearing another loud explosion go off in the distance, “the Withers. Technoblade spawned them didn’t he?” Your eyebrows furrowed in thought and Phil gave a little nod,
“Most likely.”
“Our boys, they can’t do anything without explosions can they?” You shakily whispered and Phil couldn’t help but let out a dry laugh,
“Guess so,” He shrugged limply as you slipped Wilbur’s beanie on your head,
“What now?” You looked up at him through wet eyelashes, Phil caressed the back of your head,
“We go home, bury what’s left of Wilbur, and take a look at my wings to assess the damage.” Phil watched you nod numbly against him, “it’ll be a long walk back.” He groaned rubbing his eyes and you rubbed his back soothingly.
“Let me handle that,” You reassured and he raised an eyebrow the both of you moved to leave the structure neither one of you wanted to put up with anyone, you both had lost a son and wanted time to mourn. Plus, it seemed Tommy and Technoblade were busy fighting. Phil watched you with careful eyes allowing himself to lean against one of the trees that survived the explosion. You placed your fingers in your mouth and gently whistled, not only did a crow from a tree flutter by but a wandering horse as well, you really were an animal whisperer. The crow ruffled its feathers and cawed loudly at Phil, he shot the crow a look and flipped it off, meanwhile, you worked your magic taming the horse in a matter of moments. “Come here Crow,” You held as your hand and he fell into it, you helped him onto the horse and he shot you a look,
“I’m not riding on this horse with you walking on foot. Switch with me.” Phil tried to argue but you shushed him,
“You took an explosion to the back. Take a breather, relax, nature helps me heal anyway.” You hummed fondly as he slumped against the horse reluctantly, it took about an hour to get back home, Phil had lost all feeling in his wing and wanted nothing more than to curl up with you and go to sleep. As the looming willow tree came into view Phil heard you sniffle and clutch his son’s beanie on your head,
“(Y/n)?”
“I-I’m alright.” You cleared your throat shaking your head, “Let’s get you looked at before anything else, okay?” Phil too exhausted to argue only nodded limply, you helped him inside and set him down on a chair. “Spread your wings for me,” You commanded, helping him stretch out his wings. He cursed, only feeling pure agony shoot through his right side,
“Ow! Fuck me!”
“Sorry, sorry,” You whispered out tenderly rubbing the base of his left-wing. The mixture of pain and pleasure was foreign but not completely unwelcome. “Oh, Phil…” You trailed off hesitant to touch the damage that was inflicted, “I don’t...I don’t think-” You chewed the bottom of your lip, but Phil got the message, he wasn’t going to be able to fly as he once did, maybe ever again. His flight feathers were singed to hell, completely burned away, not to mention the patchiness of his other feathers. His shoulders slumped forward as he ran a hand down his face, he was exhausted, he felt the coolness on his wing as you spread some antibiotic on the injury. “I’m sorry,” You kissed the back of his neck and he shivered at the feeling. “We’ll bury what we have tomorrow, you need rest.”
“I’ll be fine-”
“Phil, I will force you into bed. Don’t fucking test me right now, I will force you if I have to.” You hissed out glaring daggers at him, he should be threatened but he just felt oddly aroused.
He decided to attribute that to how fucked up he felt today.
Phil allowed you to tuck him into bed as gentle as you were capable of doing, “I’m going to send out some letters. I’ll join you in a little bit.” He felt you remove his hat and run your fingers through his blonde hair, he leaned into your touch like a kitten. As soon as you shut the door, Phil was out like a light.
Phil found out the next day that you had sent a letter out to both Tommy and Technoblade, you wouldn’t specify what you sent but you seemed a bit more relaxed than you had the other day. You both didn’t get a chance to bury what was left of Wilbur until a week later, Phil’s healing process was slower than he could’ve imagined. Phil reluctantly had to use a cane to get around easily, his crows laughed at him but you were also so kind and careful.
You were an angel.
The two of you buried him under the willow tree on the hill where you’d met the other members of your odd family for the first time. Technoblade had shown up at your doorstep holding out a large box inside of it was a stone tombstone inscribed on the tombstone was Wilbur’s name and date of birth and death. It had surprised Phil that the hybrid even agreed to make this for you, but at the same time, he was Phil’s adoptive son and closest friend, he appreciated the gesture nonetheless. Phil had placed Wilbur’s coat and beanie into a box and placed it under the ground. You had kept your promise and had grown little yellow flowers around the site of the burial, and the two parents mourned the loss of their biological son. Technoblade stood close by a hand resting on Phil’s shoulder in hopes to soothe him at least a little bit, Phil would never admit it but he appreciated the gesture.
Little did the three of them know, a small smile spread across a young ghost’s face. He picked at the sleeves of his yellow sweater, maybe he could give both of them some blue sometime to help them heal.
He had a feeling they’d like that idea.
~~~
I usually don't tag people in my stories but I figured a lot of people wanted a part two:
@xx-smiley-xx @dreamsofficialwife @dirtydiavolo @thatguythatsshy
@shinyshimaagain @little-odd-dude @theultimatewifu32 @hee-hee-haw @thegeekishere
#philza minecraft x reader#philza minecraft x you#philza x y/n#philza x reader#philza x you#minecraft x reader#minecraft x you#minecraft fanfiction#fanfiction#fanfic#romance#fluff and angst#dreamsmp x you#dreamsmp x reader#mcyt x reader#mcyt x you#x reader#reader insert#philza drabble#philza imagine#Platonic Wilbur Soot x reader#son wilbur soot x reader mother#c!Phil x reader#platonic technoblade x reader#platonic tommyinnit x reader
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I live in the neighbourhood
When Y/N moved to Hampstead she was unaware of the implications the decision would have on the course of the rest of her life.
or
Harry is Y/N’s eccentric neighbour who sweeps her up in the whirlwind that is his life
this gif bc its maybe my favorite clip of him EVER holy fuck - this is the harry of my dreams this is the harry of i live in the neighbourhood
HEY YALL it’s been a minute and I missed yall so much and I’m just about to be on break so maybe i’ll be back to posting writing regularly but with school its so hard and I think I’ve been working on this for months so yeah <3 lol PLS PLS PLS leave me feedback and reblogs and that stuff bc otherwise my writing just feels...empty and you have no idea the smile i get when even just the tags say like “god this was everything” it can be anything honestly but it keeps my passion up. Thank you again and hope you enjoy.
Word Count: ~10k | Warnings: swearing probably? no smut (yet), rich and famous harry - mentions of Taylor Swif
-
She considered herself an average young woman in her mid twenties. She liked screaming Taylor Swift and Megan Thee Stallion songs alone in her car and thrifting on weekends. She hated cable because of commercials and when doordash didn’t deliver all of her order. She had asthma when she worked out or the air quality was bad. She had dumb celebrity crushes that her friends and her still laughed over with every new instagram post. She had hopes and dreams she had yet to achieve and she had past trauma that many would never know about, especially at first glance.
Sure, she was successful. She would admit that. How else would she be able to afford even the modest little house she had found in Hampstead? She had studied international business in college and hopped on a plane to London the first chance she got. After a few years of a more than decent paycheck and an advantageous stimulus check from her kind parents, she was able to move out of her starter flat into the suburbs. The definitive push for the move was two-fold. Her parents wanted her to take her dog and her apartment complex was strict on no pets. Then her promotion at work - which included a pay raise - made it hard to wave off taking full ownership of her childhood ten-pound best friend.
So with life happening as it usually does, Y/N first found herself scouring Zillow, then touring homes in the area, and finally standing outside a three bedroom, two bath, two-story cream house in Hampstead. Her house.
The little moving truck she had rented sat beside her as she stared at her future. The realtor had told her they would be there in ten minutes. For the next ten minutes all Y/N had to do was keep herself from combusting, or worse, sobbing.
She felt overwhelmed already. Renting a flat in London was one way to describe herself as independent. Owning a home in Hampstead seemed like a whole new level of adulthood she wasn’t sure if she was prepared for.
After taking a few deep breaths to ground herself, Y/N walked up to the gate that kept her front yard narrowly separated from the sidewalk. She lifted one hand from beneath the box she clutched tightly to her chest to push past the iron-rod gateway. The garden was cute, a little bland, and she thought to herself that maybe she’d develop some gardening skills now that she had her own front yard. The thought made her smile a little, refraining from laughing aloud while on her lonesome, since she had never taken interest in gardening before. But this house. This house. It was a new beginning. It was a fucking unwritten journal. Blank film. Unknown territory. She could be anyone in this house.
She gently placed the cardboard box on the first step up to the front door. There was no porch, but she couldn’t complain. It was gorgeous and she was lucky to get it at the price she did. The house was cream with dark blue accents and a grey shingled roof. Lots of windows. It was classic and it was hers.
After the realtor came with her keys and made sure everything seemed alright, Y/N’s couple of friends, Amélie and Daniel, arrived with their cars filled with items she had needed picking up from various stores. They helped her move her stuff into the house. Thankfully it was already half furnished, meaning she didn’t have to go out and buy beds or couches or any of those big items that are both expensive and a hassle to deal with.
By the time the evening had rolled around, everything was in the house and it actually seemed semi put together. Y/N looked around, sweat apparent on her face and hands on her hips, proud of what she had accomplished. The nerves from earlier had been drowned by pride.
-
The next day, she woke up from her first night in the house. It felt like a dream even though she was sure she was awake.
She had to navigate her way to the airport today to pick up her dog from his long flight and then mainly settle into the house. Her house sat on Sherwood Avenue, one of the many streets in Hampstead. It’s neighboring houses were much larger. The ones directly next to and across from her weren’t drastically bigger but what she had yet to learn was that next to the house across from her there were two houses that had been joined together by their slightly eccentric owner. A man who would be the match that ignited the flame that was the rest of her life.
This unknown fact quickly became known after Y/N’s first few weeks in her new neighbourhood. The eccentric - more so absurdly rich - neighbor who conjoined the houses was Harry Styles.
The first time they crossed paths she wasn’t even aware of it. It was the day she moved in. He had been out for his usual morning run and was rounding the corner when she had pulled up in her moving van. Once inside his home, he snoopily watched on as his neighbour began to move in. He hadn’t taken note of much about her, just that she was new and that she had a nice pair of jeans on that day.
The second time, Y/N was convinced she needed to get her eyes checked because there was no way that she had just seen Harry Styles key himself into the house across the way from her. There was no way that she had moved into the same area as him, let alone the same street. It seemed far more plausible that she needed a psych evaluation or a strong glasses prescription.
But the third instance of them crossing paths, she was proven wrong. She was on her way back from the neighbourhood park when she saw a guy jogging towards her. With a yellow beanie and a black Columbia sweatshirt paired with running shorts and shoes, he was hard to ignore running straight towards her. The iconic curls, strong jawline, and soft green eyes were dead giveaways this time. After making brief eye contact as their paths literally crossed, she felt herself make a little face of odd interest. Her head quirked and her eyes narrowed, lips pursed with slight confusion. That was definitely him.
After that, she found herself seeing Harry around the neighbourhood a relatively good amount. She’d see him at the park, at the coffee shop, on their street, and more. They didn’t speak. She really didn’t think he would want to be bothered by his neighbours and she certainly wasn’t willing to test the theory. They sometimes gave a small smile of acknowledgement but nothing really friendly. Just ‘you exist and I know that’.
-
Fridays are Y/N’s favorite day. It’s the beginning of the weekend, she never has to go into work and it’s simply a nice day. People are happier, they smile brighter and it just seems like the world is a little better than usual.
Friday was especially amazing today because her childhood best friend, Cate, was arriving at London Heathrow in the evening. Y/N had begged Cate to fly out to see the new house in person and Cate had finally found the time to run away to England for a week.
She shut her front door carefully behind her and placed her headphones in her ears. Rori, that little terrier, who had made a similar flight to see Y/N’s place not too long ago, scampered out the door with her and jumped happily at her legs as she fiddled with her phone. Her coat ruffles around her disturbed from the morning air. It’s blanket-like fabric that consisted of a deep blue backdrop with felt giraffes sewn on it, kept her warm while she walked. With her mind racing with weekend plans and ideas for her and Cate to do both in Hampstead and the city, she crossed the street like usual and began to walk with her dog to the coffee shop for her morning tea.
Unlike usual, she fumbled just as she was putting her phone in her pocket and bumped into something large and definitely not sedentary.
“I’m so sorry!” She blushed and moved backwards from the man who had just been shutting his own front gate to head somewhere.
“S’alright. No harm, no foul.” He looks down at her and her dog. Rori seems excited by the stranger and sniffs him eagerly. A single paw prodding at the man’s long leg.
She grimaces, hearing the voice and stepping back allows her to fully recognize who she had just bumped into. Her neighbour. The runner. Harry Styles.
“Sorry.” She mutters again as Rori continues to prod at Harry’s leg.
She tries to coax Rori away, but Harry simply smiles and leans down to the small dog.
“Hi there buddy,” he coos and rubs the top of the fluffy dogs head, in between his pointy ears, “What’s your name?”
“Rori.” She states easily, Harry’s eyes flickering to her smoothly. Rori makes a smile babbling noise that sounds a bit like a tiny roar - hence the name - and Harry chuckles to himself.
“He’s really adorable,” he finally says and straightens up from his admiring of the dog.
The grimace becomes more of a smile on her face and she mumbles a “Thank You”.
As her neighbour - who hasn’t introduced himself (which wasn’t necessary, but still) or bothered to ask for her introduction - seems to be about to say something new when his phone begins to vibrate obnoxiously. He twitches, his large hands immediately going to his pockets for the important device. He checks the message and looks back at her face.
“Sorry, I have to run...um,” he’s not sure what to say. He really does have to go, but he doesn’t even know his neighbour’s name. He’ll have to make sure to get it at some point in the near future. Especially now that he’s acquainted with her dog.
“No worries,” she smiles completely this time, relieved for the whole interaction to be over. She felt like she was going to explode with each passing moment. In the presence of a legendary musician, c’mon, who wouldn’t be freaking out. All she could think about was how Harry Styles now knew her dog’s name. What the fuck!
-
Upon arriving at the airport, she waited patiently for Cate to walk out of the customs area.
When she did, the two young women began jumping up and down excitedly, Y/N squealing only slightly. They hugged and began chattering intensely, catching up on lost time that generally occurs when you live an ocean apart.
Finally, one comment rings through the constant back and forth and Cate stops.
“Wait, what did you just say,” she questions as they begin walking to catch an uber back to Hampstead.
“I think my house might be haunted?” Y/N’s voice raising because she’s unsure if that’s what Cate was talking about.
“No, no, the thing after that. I think I must’ve misheard you.”
“Harry Styles is my neighbour?” Y/N’s brows raise as she looks over at her best friend, curious to know what she will say.
“Yes! Explain. Now!”
“It’s not really a big deal. It’s a nice neighbourhood, it makes sense that celebrities of his caliber want to live there.”
“That is not explaining. You have to introduce us!”
As they climb into their uber and settle in for the short ride back to Hampstead, Y/N sighs and tells Cate everything she knows.
“We’ve only just spoken today and I’ve been here for a couple weeks. He lives across the street and down one, I guess. I just see him around, it’s not like he knows who I am. He didn’t even get my name today, just Rori’s.” She laughs lightly, still finding it funny that Harry knows her dog’s name.
Cate nods, leaning in slightly to her best friend, hardly able to contain her awestruckness from the story and baffledness at Y/N’s calmness. “So, like, when do I get to meet him?”
“Girl, I don’t fucking know. Never, if you’re going to act wild. I don’t want the neighbourhood to think I’m not chill.”
“Sometimes…” Cate starts and leans away from Y/N jokingly, “I hate you.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know.”
They both smile, bumping elbows silently. The song on the radio fading in louder as their words die out.
-
The next day, Y/N took Cate to the local park. It was expansive and connected to the football fields that local teams would play at. The park section was a luscious green that was maintained with copious amounts of watering by the township.
She and Cate settled on a patch of grass near a slender tree that would offer some shade if the sun’s rays became too harsh. The quilt they sat on was something her grandmother had made her when she was maybe 8 years old, meaning it was torn in places and completely worn in a different shade of pink than it had been initially.
They set up their picnic and played music, enjoying the sunny day. Something rare and fleeting as the fall began to creep up on Hampstead.
They eat and catch up on life for about an hour. Basking in the sunlight, Y/N had laid on her back and was staring up at the clouds passing along the sky. Cate was carefully watching their surroundings, simply taking in her friend’s new home, but possibly for another reason too.
“Hey, isn’t that…” Cate trails off, trying to subtly nod in the direction of an approaching figure.
Y/N sits up, her hands holding her up from behind her. Her hair fails in front of her shoulders slightly and it’s a little disheveled from being mused in the grass. She looks discreetly in the direction of Cate’s nodding and then looks at her friend and rolls her eyes.
“Yes, but don’t say anything, he might not even notice me and I’m certainly not calling out to him.”
‘Illicit Affairs’ by Taylor Swift is playing off her speaker and as she’s about to change it, Cate turns it up slightly. They share a glare with one another before trying to act casual again, even though both of their eyes kept flickering to the man who seemed to be continuing closer and closer to their set up.
It became clear that Harry was approaching them after all and Y/N tried to carry on an unbothered conversation with Cate, which was hard with the constant nudging of Cate’s foot on her shin.
He stops a mere foot away from their blanket, beaming at the two young women lounging on the ground. He makes an attempt at a casual wave, his large hand splaying his fingers quickly, before opening his mouth to speak.
Cate beats him to the punch. “Hello there!”
“Erm, hi!” He says nicely to her and then looks at Y/N.
“No Rori today?” He inquires.
“No,” she smiles, slightly blushing at the fact that he remembered her and her dog. “He’s napping.”
“Ah, I see,” He pauses, “I feel like I need to apologize.” He continues.
“For what?” She questions and Cate watches on anxiously, mesmerized by Harry and dying to see what happens next.
“I ran off before I could even ask for your name or introduce myself. It was terribly rude.”
“Oh,” she can’t stop smiling, “It’s nothing to apologize for, I’m sure you’re busy. Besides I had to get my day started, otherwise I would’ve been late picking her up.” She points to Cate who smiles sheepishly, still internally screaming over the fact that her friend is able to talk so easily to a celebrity.
Harry nods and looks at Cate again, “Just visiting I take it then?”
She nods quickly, words escaping her. Y/N chuckles under her breath and swoops in to save her friend any embarrassment. “Cate’s my best friend and she’s been kind enough to take time out of her extremely busy life to come look at my new house.”
He hums, still standing a respectful distance from their set-up. “Nice to meet you, Cate,” he says very kindly. Then he laughs, but in a way that is like he’s beside himself. The two women both quirk their heads at him. Y/N squints her eyes slightly, trying to understand the guy she is talking to and connecting him with the man that is all over the news all of the time for his musical genius.
“Now I know your dog and best friend’s names but still not yours. At this point, I’m begging you to tell me.”
They all laugh and Y/N feels nervous for the first time since Harry had walked up.
“You first,” she smiles slyly.
His eyes widen slightly in surprise, but then go back to normal. Harry was very smart, she likely knew his name, but one, she was trying to be funny and two, she was also trying to be courteous. He preferred to introduce himself rather than just be told who he is, even if people already knew. It allowed him to maintain some normalcy.
“‘M Harry,” He says with a smile.
“Alright.” She says and then remains quiet.
Harry’s lips quirk up in a faint smile, amused at her expression.
“I thought it was a ‘show me yours and I’ll show you mine’ type of situation or was I mistaken?” He finally asks when she remains silent still.
The two young women laugh and Y/N bites the inside of her cheek, both feeling flustered and completely in control at the same time.
“You weren’t mistaken, I was just thinking.” Then she pauses again and Cate thinks Harry is about to combust and Harry thinks he’s going to as well with all the anticipation that has been built up over his neighbor’s name, even though he was pretty sure he’d heard it in passing at one point or another but had forgotten quickly afterwards.
“It’s Y/N.”
Harry releases a facetious sigh of relief, “Oh thank god! Finally!” His words quickly turn into an infectious laugh that is paired with a shining smile and she feels like she’s swooning right then and there. The control has gone out the window and she’s taken with her neighbor. He’s wonderful in that moment and she forgets about Cate or the park or anything. It’s just Harry and how it seems like he’s smiling just for her.
“Now that I’ve gotten your name,” he smiles pointedly at her after his laughter has faded away. The smile doesn’t leave his face though, his eyes still crinkled, his dimples still showing.
She nods, encouraging him to continue. Cate feels like she’s watching a movie unfold in front of her and she wishes she could record the entire interaction.
“I can finally ask you, Y/N, where did you get that fabulous coat I saw you wearing yesterday?”
She twitches further upright, eyes bringing themselves directly inline with Harry’s gaze. “Oh,” she inhales, “The giraffe one, yeah?”
He nods.
“I got it from a Goodwill years ago. It’s some vintage company that used to only make sleepwear. I looked up the tag one time and it doesn’t exist anymore. Super cool, though. Wish I could buy more.”
“Yeah,” Harry says eagerly, even taking a step towards the women, “It was so intriguing. Maybe, if you didn’t mind of course -” he falters, losing his courage for a moment, “you could bring it over and my stylist could check it out. I would love something similar and I’m sure he could figure it out.”
She shrugs. It wasn’t crazy, especially not for Harry - she assumed. She was certain he often found things he liked but there was only one of them so he would just order his own. She couldn’t help the pride that was swelling inside her though it that moment. Harry Styles liking her jacket so much he asked where it was from and then wanting his stylist to look at it. She’d jump for joy when she was in the safety of her private home later tonight with Cate.
“One condition,” she says and Harry’s brows quirk amusedly at her.
“You are a very tit for tat person,” he muses.
“Fair’s fair,” she shrugs again and then looks around her quickly, “It’s simple so don’t get too worked up over it, buddy.”
He laughs slightly again and tries to figure out what she’s looking for. When she extends a scratched up, sticker-covered point and shoot film camera he smiles.
“Can you take a picture of Cate and I? It’s always just the two of us so we never have anyone to take pictures of us together.”
Harry grins at this and her sincere face. Cate is a little taken aback, because while it’s technically true, it’s not entirely factual. They have plenty of film pictures of them - maybe not recently though. And she wasn’t going to question Y/N right now. It seemed like she knew what she was doing.
Harry takes the camera and begins to look through the viewfinder. The women scoot closer together and Cate wraps her arm around Y/N’s shoulder. She leans in to press her cheek against her best friend. They smile up at the camera and Harry crouches slightly to get a better angle.
“Alright,” he mumbles, “Ready?...Cheese!”
Their smiles stay hung on their face as they listen for the click and when the faint sound befalls their ears, Cate laughs and Y/N pulls away. She reaches forward for the camera, her hand easily brushing Harry’s large one.
Their smiles meet each other and Cate can’t help but notice how they grow as the two of them look at one another.
“Thank you,” Y/N says sweetly and pulls back to retake her seat on the blanket.
Harry straightens up, his grin falling back into that signature smirk. “No problem.”
“So-” He begins but she cuts him off.
“Well, I’m sure I’ll see you around, yeah?”
He clears his throat, feeling thrown off. “Yeah, sure. I guess next time I see you we can talk about when a good time would be for your jacket to come over?”
His voice raises at the end of his question a little more than usual, he’s trying to get her to bite, but she doesn’t seem like someone who is easily thrown off. He is trying to read her and she’s been completely cool the entire time. It’s intriguing. Even more so than the jacket, even though he’d be lying if he said he didn’t like it, it wasn’t really his focus when he walked across the park to her and Cate.
“Yep! It was nice finally meeting you Harry.”
He feels the cue to walk off and says his farewells. As he walks off, back on course to his intended destination, his head is filled with questions. Most important of them being when he would see her again.
Cate and Y/N watch him walk towards the football fields. They see him meet with a group of men and it seems like they’re there to practice or play a game. Y/N couldn’t be sure.
“He likes you!” Cate finally bursts out.
Y/N rolls her eyes, “Stop trying to make me take the piss. That’s a fucking lie and you know it.”
“It’s not! He likes you and you obviously like him, I mean, but we been knew.”
“Having a crush on the famous Harry Styles when you’re 17 is different than me liking my neighbour Harry.”
“But you like him don’t you? He’s even better than he was when he was 19. Now he’s all grown up and established and more your style anyway.”
“Shut up! He could hear you.”
“He really couldn't, he's yards away, you’re just paranoid.” Cate continues to tease and ridicule her best friend over Harry and Y/N is just about ready to up and leave, but she also can’t help but laugh it off.
“I’m literally gonna kick you out if you keep talking,” Y/N says between laughs and the women feel like they’re back in high school losing their minds over the stupidest joke ever.
“Okay, fine. But all I have to say is I will hold this over you when you end up together.”
“Yeah, yeah. Sure, whatever. Just be prepared to wait forever because I can promise you Harry Styles and I are never ending up together.”
--
Two Weeks Later
Y/N walked to her door after hearing the doorbell ring and opened it to find her neighbour standing with his arm raised ready to knock.
“Hey, Harry,” She greeted easily, but not entirely sure why he was here.
They hadn’t really seen each other since their official meeting in the park. It hadn’t bothered her and it hadn’t really bothered Harry either. It seemed like they both had extremely busy lives that they didn’t plan on throwing out the window because they had said they would meet up at some point. She liked that.
Harry had come over because he finally had a break in his schedule and was hoping to talk about the jacket and anything else really. He was interested in getting to know her and he didn’t care to hide it.
“I was wondering if you wanted to go get a coffee or something?” He asked, leaning himself against her door frame now.
Her eyebrows raise and her eyes widen a little bit, not completely sure she heard him correctly.
“Right now?!” She asked incredulously.
She was wearing an oversized grey sweatshirt and black bike shorts that peaked out from underneath the sweatshirt hem. One of her socks was shoved around her ankle while the other was pulled up flat to touch the base of her calf. She didn’t think she was looking the most presentable at the moment. She had been basking in her day off by simply laying on the couch watching hours of Netflix.
He nods, his smile growing on his face. Her flustered expression only made him happier. She was always so nonchalant with him, he wanted to see her a little more antsy.
“Unless you’re busy,” he adds seriously, not wanting to bother her, just wanting to spend time with her.
“No, no. I’m not...I’m not busy. I just wasn’t expecting any plans where I would be required to go out in public. Let me just...um, come inside and then give me five minutes.”
“Sure,” Harry smiles again as he steps into her home.
Her smile is sheepish and much less genuine then the one Harry holds on his face as he takes in her abode. She tells him to make himself comfortable and then runs to her room to try and possibly fix her state in under five minutes.
She tears around her room, heaving off the frumpy sweatshirt and grabbing a long sleeve striped v-neck top she had hanging out half out of her hamper, a sign known to her that while it was clean enough to wear, if she happened to do laundry she should wash it. Slipping it over her head, she walks to her dresser and leans over to open the bottom drawer and unfolds a pair of dark wash oversized jeans. There’s no holes in them and she throws them on the bed so that she can slip out of her current pants. Next, onto the socks, she swaps out the current ones for a fresh black pair and finds her tortoise print boots to flick on. As she just about runs into her en suite bathroom, she zips the two boots up between steps. A quick comb through her hair, deodorant, two spritz of perfume, her eyelash curler and mascara and she’s running back to where Harry is waiting in her living room.
He blinks surprisedly at her promptness, usually giving people more time then what they say they need. She had indeed gotten ready in five minutes. He thought she looked breathtaking. And she felt like she was at a lack for breath in any case.
“It’s a bit cold out,” he glances to the window.
“Isn’t it always?” She smiles, finally catching her breath.
He chuckles and then nods, a smile appearing on his face as he feels a warmth in his chest at her wit.
“Ready?” He checks in.
She nods, grabbing a coat she kept hung by the door.
“Just the coffee shop down the way?” She inquires as they exit the house and she locks the door behind her.
Harry hums, waiting down a step for her to turn around and walk beside him. It was so strange to her, this felt all too normal with him. Like he was just a friend who had come to pick her up for coffee, her neighbor, nothing more.
“Did you hear the new season of the Crown is coming out soon?” Harry asks as they walk shoulder to shoulder (technically since her shoulder wasn’t in line with his).
“Really?” She looks at him, “I love that show!”
“Me too,” He looks at her and smiles happily.
“That’s amazing,” she breathes mostly to herself, half about the show and half about how Harry watches television and that he watches one of her favorite shows.
There’s silence. The brisk air pricking their cheeks as they walk down their street. Their puffs of breath create a slight mist of white ahead of them and then quickly dissipates.
Her eyes flit up to Harry’s chiseled jaw and face and she watches him as his eyes carefully and meaningfully take in his surroundings. Was it her turn to take a stab at conversation? It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence but she just wasn’t sure what was going on.
“You play football right?” She says finally as they turn onto the next street that would bring them closer to the café they both frequented.
She remembered seeing him there on several occasions. The tips he left were always overly generous, which she assumed you could do when you were exorbitantly rich. He always smiled when he ordered and knew the baristas by name. His order rarely differed and she hated to admit but she knew his two regulars. His actual “regular” was a 12 ounce black coffee, dark roast, no cream and no sugar. The other, his “I’ll actually have”, was a 16 ounce iced green tea, no cream and no sugar.
She couldn’t help that she was observant and that when ‘H’ was called at the bar she looked at what was pushed out, patiently waiting for him to come snatch it up with a smile and nod to the workers before he left. Sometimes he’d even smile at her over the lid of his drink as he exited the establishment. It was warm and inviting and she felt good about the twinkle in his eye that never seemed to waver no matter the day.
Now they were going there together and she’d have to pretend like she’d never noticed what he got as a drink.
He responds to her question with another glance at her and a simple “yes”. His hands shove into his pockets and one side of his pink lips quirk up. He continues, “I’m on a local team with some mates. We’re in a little competition with our league. The final match is coming up this Sunday actually...You should come.”
He says it so casually it almost doesn’t catch her off guard. Harry inviting her to his football game, maybe this was going to be her life now. Going to her neighbours football match. Going to Harry Styles’ football match.
“Sunday…” She sounds out, choosing to look out into the distance instead of at him. “What time?”
“Eight.”
“P.M. right?” She responds quickly, worried since she never wakes up that early and rarely before 10 a.m. on the weekends for that matter.
“Of course,” he chuckles.
They’ve come upon the café and he’s quick to grab the handle to open the door and let her go before him. She can’t stop the blush and smile that spread on her face as she ducks her head into the warm and cozy shop. Men had opened doors for her before and she really thought of herself as a strong woman who didn’t need a man for anything, but something about Harry’s action felt especially, and specifically, chivalrous. Why, she had no idea.
Neither of them stop to look at the menu. They were regulars and they both knew that about each other as well. He gestures for her to go first and she mutters her thanks before turning to the patiently waiting barista. She orders and is about to hand over her card when Harry suavely steps in and says, “Don’t worry about it. I invited you with me, I’ll pay.”
It was both completely unexpected and expected at the same time. Knowing she’d never win this fight, she thanked him again, glanced at the man taking her order and then stepped aside. Harry orders his own drink and then pays for both. Today he leaves double the amount he usually leaves for tip, she assumes since it’s two drinks he was paying for.
“You didn’t have to do that, you know?” She says quietly to him once they’re in a corner of the café waiting for their drinks.
He stands slightly slumped against the wall, closer to her height right now. He only shrugs, his good natured smile not once leaving his face since he entered this place.
“I wanted to,” he said simply right as the drinks were ready since it wasn’t particularly busy on this random Friday afternoon.
They glance outside and see that it’s begun to drizzle while they’ve been inside. She sighs, having hoped to walk around a little after being inside all day.
Instead, they sit at the corner table in the café, across from each other. She moves on from the paying thing, knowing it was simply how this guy probably operated most of his life.
He got a black coffee today, the cold and rain likely contributing to that choice.
As one pop song fades out, slightly under the sound of the coffee machines, she’s about to tell Harry she’s pretty sure she can make his final football match when ‘Cardigan’ fades in. It’s the second time a Taylor Swift song has been playing while she’s been in the presence of Harry and they were conversing. She tries to ignore one of her favorite songs at the moment. Harry doesn’t seem to pay much mind to it. His foot is tapping against his other, but it’s been tapping like that since they sat down.
“I think I could probably make it to your game,” she says finally after a pause and a sip of her own drink.
Harry grins at the response and launches into how great it will be if they win and how happy everyone will be. She smiles along and doesn’t notice the slight head swaying to the song that she’s begun.
“Fan of Taylor?” Harry inquires and Y/N’s face drops, eyes widening cartoonishly.
She stutters, a nervous laugh leaving her mouth before she can actually say something. How does she respond about liking Taylor Swift to a man who counts her as an ex. She’s at a loss.
“Yeah, uh,” she finally starts.
Harry watches her curiously, obviously noticing her discomfort as his question.
“I used to not really consider myself a fan. I don’t really follow her just because I don’t really follow...um...musicians,” she chokes out the last word realizing Harry fits that category. “But, after folklore, I don’t know, this album really spoke to me. I also really like Lover and...uh” she pauses again, sticking on 1989, an album she has argued with her friends about how it’s basically a tell all of the man before her and Taylor’s relationship.
He nods, hoping she’ll continue. He wanted to get to know her and he kind of liked seeing her squirm. “1989?” He finally supplies.
Her blush isn’t able to be covered this time. If her hair didn’t fall in front of her ears she was sure they’d be flushed with blood.
Then she draws out of her own self stress and looks at the smooth man before her and grows calm. He was amazing at winding her up and she didn’t want to seem like some young, impressionable fangirl to him. So, she squared her shoulders and straightened up in her chair.
“Yes, it was pop perfection as one of my college friends liked to say. I’d always listen to it at the gym.” Then she pauses, taking a measured breath, gaining her confidence back. Her eyes meet his, “Is there any songs off it that you particularly enjoy, Mr. Styles.”
He chuckles, mostly because of her emphasis on ‘Style’.
“Shake it off?” He asks.
“Oh fuck off!” She laughs and he joins in with her.
When they catch their breaths from laughing, they simultaneously take sips of their drinks and settle their eyes back on one another. Exes and songs written about oneself weren’t exactly the topics Harry had in mind for the coffee outing he had asked Y/N out on, but talks of exes had never been this funny with anyone else. He was grateful for her playfulness, her demeanor.
“Can I ask you something personal?” She asks quietly and seriously.
“I think we’re past that question, love,” he responds.
“Yeah, I guess,” she pauses and just about whispers, “Pretty much all of them are about you right?”
He shrugs again, his felt coat rustling around his seat. “We never really talked about every single song.”
She leans forward at the ‘we’ Harry is using about himself and Taylor Swift.
“But when I listen to the songs, I hear us in just about every one but a few.”
“Wow,” she breathes and sips her drink. “I don’t know what I’d do if I lived through something that intense and then someone commemorated in a masterpiece.”
“Do you have a favorite on that album?” He asks, moving on from her revelation.
“I love ‘I know places’, it has a cool sound. But I also really love ‘Wonderland’. They both have kind of dark sounds, yet it still is like what you have is so special that the bad bits are worth it. I don’t know, it just seems like a tv show. I don’t think my life could ever be that crazy or dramatic.” She doesn’t notice her use of ‘you’ because she had meant it as a form of analyzing the song theoretically as she had done hundreds of times with her friends, but this time the ‘you’ is literally the ‘you’ the song is talking about.
“Love can turn anyone’s life chaotic.” Harry muses.
The green eye’s that flashed at Taylor throughout that album look at Y/N from across the table and she feels a flip in her stomach at his tone.
Maybe he notices her mild discomfort, maybe that’s just who he is. But after a beat, Harry’s onto the next topic on his mind. He launches into how he’s just returned from Scotland for a shoot for something so undercover he can’t even divulge to her, much to his dismay. She’s taken aback since she didn’t consider her someone Harry would divulge any of his private matters to, but it seemed like he already considered her a confidant. Just not for that. He wants it to be a surprise.
She smiles and listens attentively. She wonders as he goes on about his interesting yet absurdly lavish life whether he even knows what regular life is like anymore. Or if he’d even enjoy it if he experienced it.
Sure, coffee and football were plenty part of regular life . But the football league was something novel to Harry. He had just gotten to do it and he was thrilled by its normalcy.
She regarded him carefully, unsure what the next step was in this budding friendship. Was it dangerous to get involved with someone’s life which seemed to be filled with whirlwind rigor and constant change.
She liked her chaos, don’t get her wrong. She felt like she often was the odd one out in life. Always thinking differently than the ones around her. She often was the one to suggest spontaneous late night trips around town or exploration of an abandoned building known for spooky stories. She liked inviting friends over for themed parties for no specific occasions and she liked taking film pictures of friends like they were models even though it was only for her and her memories. She thought of herself as silly and fun, but what Harry described as his chaotic fun actually was regimented tight schedules of constant travel and work. Interesting experiences came out of that constant travel and work, but didn’t seem like something she necessarily wanted to get herself wrapped up in.
After coffee, they leave the café and it’s pouring now. Instead of going home, Harry insists on walking her to her place. She relents, realizing, once again, that Harry wasn’t someone who took ‘no’ for an answer. She then invites him in because it’s the polite thing to do. And Harry being Harry accepts.
“Want a dry sweatshirt while you wait?” She asks as she slips off her wet shoes and jacket in the entryway. Harry follows suit, his knit sweater being pelted with rain for the last eight minutes left him feeling cold and shivery.
He nods as he toes off his shoes and ventures back to the living room she had him wait in a few hours ago.
“Here,” She says as she tosses a grey sweatshirt in his direction. She believes it's her one from earlier, an innocuous pullover with ‘London’ in collegiate lettering on the front. He catches it as she rounds the corner to turn up the heater.
Her mistake was being so careless to not look at the sweatshirt before handing it over to her neighbor. Anyone else, maybe they wouldn’t have questioned it. But Harry, how could he not.
“What’s this?”
“A sweatshirt,” she doesn’t spare him a glance on the coach as she fiddles with the thermostat.
“It’s one of my sweatshirts,” Harry says and she can hear the smile on his face.
“That’s impossible, I’ve never borrowed-” Her brows had raised at what he said but now her words fall short.
He didn’t mean one of his personal sweatshirts that she possibly borrowed if they were better friends. No. He meant his merchandise.
“It was a gift,” she sighs as she turns to face him. He’s now wearing the sweatshirt proudly and grinning up at her smugly.
She rolls her eyes when he gives her a knowing smile.
“I didn’t know that it was the one I was handing you. Honest!”
“I thought you didn’t “keep up” with musicians,” Harry says playfully, his fingers making quotes appropriately.
“I don’t.” Her tone is serious as she plops on the couch beside Harry.
“I enjoy your music from time to time. Is that a crime?!” She finally exclaims when she can’t handle Harry’s knowing smirk.
“No it’s not, you could have just told me you were a fan!” She tries to stop him and protest that she wouldn’t consider herself a fan, but he continues, “I still would have wanted to have been friends.You’re one of the liveliest neighbors I’ve got. Everyone else on the street is rather dull.”
She chuckles, remembering finding out quickly that the street wasn’t a lively bunch.
“I just wouldn’t say I’m a fan,” she presses and sits across from him.
He continues smiling like he knows the truth.
“I don’t think you’ve met an average person in awhile, Harry.” She finally says after they sat in silence for a few minutes because they were both too stubborn to be the first to talk.
“I would hardly call you average if that’s what you’re implying, Y/N.” He nods her way and he shifts on her plush couch, his legs adjusting themselves on their own accord. “And I know plenty of average people,” he adds huffily.
“I normally wouldn’t either, but compared to who you seem to surround yourself, I very much am. And that’s not meant to be a jab at anyone involved.”
His right hand sneaks up to his head to scratch at the base of a particularly perfect curl. His eyes squint a bit as his mind processes her claim.
“What are you trying to say exactly?”
“I’m just curious to see if you’d actually like me in your life. It seems like you want to be friends with me and that’s great, but realistically I don’t know how much I would fit into it.”
Harry scoffs, “That’s literally bullshit, just relax. I’m so chill you won’t even know what to do with me.”
Now it’s her turn to scoff. “Chill?!” She asks incredulously. Harry nods with a seriousness she hadn’t seen before.
“When’s the next time you’re flying off to another country for work?”
Harry pauses, “Um...the day after the final match. I’m beginning to film a movie, so I’ll be there for a month.”
“Busy bee,” she muses and they both chuckle.
There’s something about the somber look Harry is giving her. His eyes twinkled in the coffee shop and with playful winks she was excited to be in his presence. But after she mentions when his next trip is, he seems saddened. There’s skepticism behind his eyes and maybe he doesn’t like being challenged about who he is from other people, especially those who are new in his life.
But that’s who Y/N is, she’s straightforward and doesn’t lie to someone. If Harry was now her friend, she was going to tell it like it is to him. That personality trait she worried wouldn’t make her long for his world.
“So the cardigan? Do you have it here?” Harry changes the subject, clearly not wanting to actually consider a realistic friendship together instead just charging ahead with no hesitation. Whatever happened they would deal with it as it came. Maybe she should just go with the flow, let herself be swept up into his madness. Maybe it would be easier than fighting it.
“No.”
“Oh?”
“I do, I was joking. Where else would it be?” Her tone is light, trying to get back the shine she had seen Harry exhibit before it had vanished.
Maybe that was Harry’s effect on people. He was vibrant and like an Elton John song. You never wanted that shine to go away, never wanted the song to end. Never wanted him to stop shining his light on you. She felt this happening in just a few hours with him. When he was happy so was she and when he wasn’t entirely shining she wanted to do whatever she could to get it back.
A smile curls on his face and his green eyes narrow slightly. He’s trying to figure her out, know what she’s all about.
“Do you want to go and grab it?” His voice sweetening, almost like a tease. Maybe he means to bite his lip, maybe he doesn’t, but the effect on her is nonetheless earthshaking.
She pops up and smiles back, happy to have made him happy. As she walks out of the room to go get the cardigan that had started this all, her head tilts and she furrows her brow wondering why she felt such a sense of pride just for making him happy.
Would this man cause her to finally put someone else’s wishes ahead of hers?
-
“Are you on your way?”
She listens to Harry’s slightly worried voice crackle over the speaker of her phone as she shuts her door with the hand not holding her phone to her ear. His voice is raspy and muffled. She assumes it’s from the cold air of London at night and the scarf he is likely got wrapped around his neck.
“Yes! Jeez, I’m on my way. Walking over right now.”
It’s the final match for Harry’s football team and if they win the game then they get a trophy and it’s all Harry has been talking about since they got coffee and she handed over her cardigan.
Harry huffed an “alright” on the other side of the line and she called a “see you soon” before hanging up.
He was both eager for Y/N to come and possibly meet some of his teammates and a few of his close friends who he had invited and for her to arrive so that she wasn’t walking out late at night alone. He hadn’t known her for long, but he felt a certain protectiveness over her. She was relatively alone here, only two friends at work that she had mentioned and everyone else lived far away. She said she didn’t mind it, but Harry had a hard time understanding it since he surrounded himself with his friends as much as he could and was constantly either traveling or having them travel to see him.
He had even contemplated inviting her to come to Los Angeles with him for a month, but knew she would remind him of her ever important job that she couldn’t just randomly take a month off.
He’d have to ask her what exactly she did because every time he tried to remember, it always slipped his mind.
When her figure came into sight below the fluorescent lights, he breathed a sigh of relief. A grin spread on his face as she beamed at him and waved a bit. He didn’t understand how she couldn’t see how special she was. Every time he saw her he felt himself straighten up and feel a bubbling in his chest. Her smile was infectious and the way her eyes glittered when she looked away quickly and then returned eye contact made him want to stay in her presence forever.
“You made it!” Harry said and scooped her up in his arms, not realizing just how happy he was to see her, swinging her around in a half circle.
She laughs in surprise, but appreciates the warmth Harry’s hug offers her. She’s not quite sure they had ever touched each other before this moment beside shoulder brushes and hand touches. Nothing so...purposeful.
“I made it,” she confirms and pats him on his broad shoulders.
Questions in her mind raced as she questioned whether it was normal for friendships to happen like this. She knew in college friendships could happen this quickly. And that’s when it dawned on her, she really hadn’t made a new friend since college and that was why everything with Harry was so odd to her. She had forgotten what new friendship was. She needed to stop questioning everything and just live in the moment with a person she really liked being with.
Harry’s hands move from her waist and one stays to lead her forward so he can introduce her to some of his mates, as he had promised.
She felt at home in that moment. His hand on the small of her back, his heat radiating off of him and her hair swept behind her ears and her cheek pressed to his shoulder staring up at him sweetly.
She meets Charlotte, a member of Harry’s band who lives in London, her boyfriend, Mitch (who had just happened to find himself in Hampstead this weekend), Ben, and a few more people she couldn’t remember all the names of.
Harry’s team wins the game and Y/N’s not sure if she’s ever seen someone so happy to win an adult league football match. There wasn’t any official trophy except the one Harry had made himself and said he would even give to the other team if they won. It was engraved with the words “The World’s Greatest Football Team of Stars Ever. October 22, 2020”. It doesn’t even make sense but she’d been holding it for the entire night as he played.
He goes down the line of his friends who have been watching and gives them all jubilant kisses on the lips. When he reaches Y/N she holds out the trophy and he grins and gives her a kiss on the cheek. His lips are surprisingly soft and his scratchy stubble tickles her and she swiftly pulls back, a smile on her face and blush on her cheeks nonetheless.
Charlotte and Mitch share a look between the two of them and Ben’s eyes narrow slightly at the interaction. His eyes narrow just as they had when Harry had strutted over to the group with Y/N before the game. He had happily named everyone and she had shaken all of their hands with a warm smile on her lips. Ben had regarded her warily and she had shaken it off as the chill of the night air. But there it was again, not quite trusting of the neighbour girl Harry had just randomly befriended a few days ago.
The team and the friends of the team decide they deserve to celebrate this win, mostly at the request of Harry.
Y/N tries to find a time to leave, to return to her place so she can prepare for her day at work tomorrow. But no excuses will be heard from Harry and she has a hard time saying no to his sparkling eyes and gorgeous grin that she’s growing far too accustomed to.
She’s ushered down to the closest pub with the rest of them and finds herself chatting with Charlotte’s boyfriend. He’s the most...normal. She’s not sure how to explain it, but he doesn’t seem to be regarding her as different, unlike every other one of Harry’s friends. They were all perfectly nice and cordial with her, but she just felt like she wasn’t a part of their group, their world and she didn’t know how to explain it.
Charlotte and Mitch are rather nice too, but they’re more reserved with her. They’re musicians, like Harry, and they somewhat have that air of awareness around them that Harry sometimes gets. She thinks it’s from the fame, having to constantly be wary of who is around you, what everyone is doing, what is happening next. She doesn’t mind it, it’s just not something she’s used to.
She wishes she could just throw back some drinks and she could allow herself to be more...well just be more. More of a presence, more of herself, but she has a job she has to get to bright and early. Tomorrow was Monday and for her that meant work. So she sips a beer that Harry insisted be on his tab and she makes small talk with Charlotte’s boyfriend about how he’s been helping her produce her first EP. Charlotte occasionally pops in when she hears her name, but mostly is conversing with Mitch over something silly. Y/N knows because they keep laughing.
Harry is going around to just about everyone in the party and she watches as he happily talks with every one of his friends. He’s ecstatic and she wonders if she’s ever experienced happiness like he has.
At midnight she attempts to make a French exit, as her mother always called it, and slip away with little to no farewells, but Harry spots her before she can.
“You’re leaving already?” Harry asks loudly, the euphoria of winning his silly little game and drinking a fair amount of pints has him at his peak boisterity.
“I have work tomorrow,” she says warily, slumping slightly from the weight of Harry’s arm slinging around her shoulder.
He turns serious and straightens up slightly, his green eyes looking especially dark in the pubs dim lighting as they look her dead in the eye. “Let me walk you home.”
“I can get home by myself,” she laughs, shrugging off his hold. “Plus, the host can’t leave his own celebration.” She gestures to everyone else happily celebrating on a Sunday, somehow not bothered by the beginning of the average week.
He steps closer, his brow furrowing for the first time that night. One of his large hands raises to his tousled hair and he runs it through the tresses. He even nibbles at his lower lip as he contemplates his decision. Then quickly and suddenly, he makes up his mind,
“No, I’ll escort you. Can’t have my neighbour walk home this late alone. I’ll just leave my card with Mitch. He’ll settle up the tab.” He smiles at his perfect plan and she grimaces feeling slightly embarrassed that he would leave his friends to walk her home. “Won’t you Mitch?” Harry calls as he grabs his coat from the wall next to the door. Mitch simply nods and Harry yells his farewells, Y/N waves meekly.
“That was...interesting,” she mulls over her words as they walk through the cold night air outside of the pub.
“Amazing, right?” Harry speaks over her less enthusiastic voice.
“You have a lot of friends,” she mused, trying to sound less disheartened than she had in her last statement.
Harry only hums and shivers slightly from the cold. His breath comes clearly out in puffs in the cold night air. Y/N’s is muffled by her scarf wrapped tightly up to her chin. She’s tucked his face as far into it as possible but her nose won’t stop from freezing as they walk.
Her hand goes up to it and she rests her palm to the tip of it. The motion grabs Harry’s attention and he looks directly at her curiously.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m freezing,” she muffles out, “This helps my cold nose not be so..cold.”
He chuckles and wraps his arm around her shoulder and she easily folds into him, welcoming any warmth right now.
After another moment of silence and them enjoying each other’s warmth and slight smell of whatever perfumes they had chosen earlier that night as well as beer and wood of the pub, Harry nuzzles his head above hers and then asks her something.
“Was that overwhelming for you?”
She’s quiet, thankful his eyes can’t reach hers right now. He was too powerful with those things.
“I, um, a little. I just...I just realized today that I haven’t made a new friend since college outside of work and it was overwhelming just hanging out with you. So all of your friends as well, yeah, it was a bit much for me.”
Harry looks out at the empty street ahead of them and sighs in realization. In his excitement, he hadn’t accounted how she might have felt tonight until just now. He wanted to kick himself for not thinking of her feelings, but other’s feelings slipped his mind so easily sometimes.
They round their street corner and she nuzzles back into his side.
“I’m sorry, love.” He rubs at her outer arm, “I didn’t think about it like that. I was just so excited for my plan to come together. Maybe next time, it’ll just be a couple of them rather than so many?”
“Sure,” she says quickly, wanting to make him happy, knowing how much he cared about his friends. “I feel like we need to hang out more with just you before I osmos into your friend group though if I’m being honest.”
“Well that can definitely be arranged,” he says and reluctantly lets go of her body. They’ve arrived at her door.
“I also want to see the inside of your house at some point.” She tugs at one of his hands before it can disappear into his warm coat pocket. “Houses,” she corrects.
“That can also be arranged,” Harry smiles with his lips closed. Pink lips and rosy cheeks extra bright from the cold. He plays with her fingers as the two stand close to one another, happy for the alone time and chalking the proximity up to heat sharing.
“You leave tomorrow right?” She finally asks.
His head falls and he sighs.
“Yeah…”
“It’s just a month,” she smiles, trying to stop Harry from being so dramatic. Especially when there was no logical reason for him to be so upset over not seeing his neighbour - she keeps telling herself.
“Are you sure you can’t quit your job and just fly out with me?” He pleads.
She throws her head back in laughter and shifts closer to him, her front porch light illuminating and shadowing every perfect place on Harry’s gorgeous face.
“Not even a chance.”
“That is a shame,” he takes an experimental step closer and she feels his breath fan across her cheeks at his last word.
She wrinkles his nose at the smell of his last beer, even though coming from him it was endearing.
Just as she feels him being to shift his head closer, she steps forward and gives him a tight hug.
“Goodnight Harry,” she whispers into his ear, “Safe travels.”
Then she’s stepping back and swiftly unlocking her door. She moves it slowly so as to not wake Rori and then Harry’s left alone and dumbfounded on her doorstep.
He definitely preferred being with her alone, but now he didn’t even have that chance until next month. And nonetheless she had just sidestepped his kiss with such ease he’s not even sure if he meant to kiss her. It had felt right, but why? Because it was cold and picture perfect? Or because he was enchanted by her and liked her as more than a new friend?
She slumps in her kitchen and fixes an Emergen-C to stave off the chill of the night and any germs that might have been lurking around the pub. She hopes when she walks to her bedroom she can check the front porch and see that Harry has gone home because she would hate to turn the light off on him.
How could he have expected her to kiss him just then? They’ve only just met each other a few weeks ago? And he’s Harry Styles and she just lives in the neighbourhood. What the actual fuck had happened to her life?
#not at all proofread#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles x y/n#harry styles x reader#harry styles x you#harry styles fluff#harry styles series#part 2 coming#harry styles one shot#harry styles angst#harry styles smut#coming soon#harry styles fan fic#harry styles fan fiction#harry styles fanfic#pls share#pls give feedback#ok goodnight#I said id get it up#so I did#that's what he said#I hate myself#also I honestly don't love where this is going but maybe ill fix it#lol
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Good Wives Club [2]
Lee Bodecker x Reader. 3rd POV. Word Count: 4.2k.
Spin-off to American Pie
Chapter One || Chapter Three
Summary: It's been more than a year since she's escaped the ghost of her past but life is never fair to a girl like her. Lee doesn't care that she has a husband, a nice house, and sugary fake friends, he wants what's rightfully his.
Warnings (series): Cheating, smut, violence, housewife kink, period-typical misogyny, age gap (about a ten year difference), manipulation, dark themes all around.
A/N: If anyone wants to be added to future tag list just let me know!
Y/n woke up at 5am with a dry mouth and her head spinning. Her night has been plagued with restlessness and she couldn't stay still. When she did fall asleep, it was for small periods of time. Each time she woke up she was not aware of where she was for the first five seconds, panic almost setting in before she registered the sound of her husband snoring.
The end of her irregular sleep cycle ended because she saw the hallway light was on. She sighed when realized it must be time for her husband to get ready for work. She virtually got no sleep and she'll probably be tired for the rest of the day.
She gets up from their creaky bed and starts walking down the hallway. It takes a while for her eyes to adjust to the brightness as she slowly plods down the hallway. She follows the light to the bathroom where she can hear her husband getting ready for work. On the days he goes in this early Y/n is relieved that she doesn't have to get up and cook breakfast for him.
The door is cracked but she opens it to find him inside. She situates herself in the doorway, watching him shave his face through the mirror.
"Good morning," he spoke with a scratchy voice. Even though Y/n didn't marry Llewellyn for love, she's still attracted to him and likes his company most of the time. She feels an ache inside of her that wants him to take her, but after running into Lee last night she's afraid she won't be able to get Lee's face out of her mind while beneath her husband.
"Good morning. Going in early?"
"Yep. Dad wants to do inventory today since he put it off last week."
"Oh okay," she accepts quietly, ready to leave her husband alone so he can get ready in peace.
However he asks her a surprising question, "hey, did you enjoy last night?"
"Uh, it was fine I guess. Did you?" Her hope is that he at least enjoyed himself somewhat.
"You know I don't like that super fancy stuff like that, but I have to eat crow; it wasn't all that bad and Bodecker's not as bad as I thought. He's kind of a funny guy. I still think he's not as hard on crime like everyone claims he is, but personally, he's not that bad. Florence was nice too. She invited us to dinner on Wednesday night, apparently that's the only night Lee has off. I told her we'd be able to join them."
The turn of events was shocking. Y/n couldn't believe her ears and she thought maybe she indeed was still asleep. Lou was not fond of many people and his only "friends" were his two brothers so him warming up to Lee and Florence left her speechless. So speechless that she didn't register the fact that he accepted a dinner invite for them.
"What?"
"What do you mean ‘what’? You dragged me to that dinner last night and wanted me to be nice, and now you're confused when I do just that?"
"I-I'm not confused...just shocked," she admits truthfully, "I can't believe you want to go to someone’s house who isn't your mother house for dinner —are you sure you want to go?"
"We're going Y/n."
His tone of voice indicates that the conversation is done and over with and the decision has been made. Y/n didn't even get to contest his decision but Lou can tell when Y/n is in a defiant mood. Her folding her arms and walking away was confirmation for him. She stalks her way back to the bedroom where she takes to hiding under the covers.
Lee and Lou under the same roof — it makes her stomach churn just to think about it. They're wildly different from each other but the thing she hates about them is what they have in common.
All she can hope is that this nightmare ends and she wakes back up to a life without Lee's ghost lingering around.
-
She decided to go with a floral dress again. She really wanted to take out the checkerboard dress that made her legs look good and showed off her arms, but Lou would have made her change before she had the chance to step out of the house. The floral print is dizzying, but it's the kind of dress that Lou likes to see her wear.
It's just a small dinner at the Bodecker's house but Y/n opts for kitten heels instead of sensible flats. She feels obligated to look her best despite there being less people to dress for. She's never been alone with Florence save for that day at the grocery store. Florence is always dressed to the 10's and Y/n needs to look just as good, if not better. She claims to hate Lee, but it would be so satisfying if she caught Lee ogling her breasts.
"Are you ready?"
Y/n thought Lou was too dressed up for a home dinner of four. He wore a pinstriped suit and those nice leather shoes he bought himself around the holidays.
"As ready as I'll ever be," she sighs in an attempt to let off some steam.
It was a shorter drive than Y/n expected. Florence hadn't disclosed where she lived before, but Brewer Heights wasn't that for them to live at a distance. The sun was nearly dipped over the horizon and the remaining light that hits their house makes it look like a model home. Everything little aspect and detail Y/n was going to compare herself too. She lives in a nice house, but Florence lives in a nicer house. It tears her up knowing she has the ultimate upper hand over Florence in the form of her own husband and she can't even act upon it. She would royally fuck up her life and their lives too if she decide to let her jealousy get the best of her.
As she walks up their stairs as another man's wife, she accepts that she is jealous. She's always been jealous of Florence even when she didn't know her name. What made her so worthy of all of these things? Lee used to act like he hates the woman so she must be a bitch behind closed doors. It wouldn't be surprising if she is because most people in this town will smile in your face and then gossip about you a minute later.
Lou knocks on the door and only a second later Florence is opening the door with a big smile on her face and Lee right next to her. He wore his police uniform without the jacket while Florence looked like a Lilly Pulitzer catalog girl.
It only took one millisecond of their eyes locking together for Y/n to feel the electricity between her and Lee. She drags her eyes away from his, but she can bet that he has a smirk on her face. He always liked to see her squirm; in a good and bad way.
"Y/n, Llewellyn! I'm so glad you could make it! Why don't you come on in," Florence steps to the side, nudging Lee over with her, to make way for Y/n and her husband.
Her eyes scan over every inch of their house. It's warm, cozy, and oddly comforting. Everything little thing was in its place; perfectly dusted and polished. Y/n is sure that Lee had no hand in decorating this place, it screams Florence through and through.
"Dinner is almost ready. I started the scalloped potatoes a little too late, but it should be done soon! Y/n, do you want to help me set the table?"
Y/n didn't want to leave her husband alone with Lee, but she also didn't want to be in the room with just them. She nods at Florence and follows behind her to their kitchen.
The house smells like Lou's parent's house on holidays. Y/n's stomach rumbles and she doesn't realize how hungry she was. She despises herself for wanting Florence's cooking, but she barely ate today because of how nervous she was.
"I already laid out the place mates, you can place the plates and silverware."
Y/n picks up the expensive dining ware that Florence points towards. She wonders if Florence cooks like this all the time, even when Lee works well into the night.
The walls of their dining room have an awful floral pattern. Y/n is beginning to become sick at the sight of anything that pertains to flowers. The cedar table is perfect for accommodating guests and Y/n wonders how many dinner parties they had in this room. Florence seems to put a lot of stock into being a good hostess. Y/n herself has yet to throw a dinner party at her home, but setting the plates on someone else's dining room table feels like practice. She silently imagines her house filled with Lou's family as she cooks dinner for them.
Florence enters the room and starts placing the dishes in the middle of the table. Her presence takes Y/n out of her fantasy, and when she sees how Florence made a 3-course-meal she feels worse.
"Does the food look good? I tried some new recipes from Julia Child's cookbook to try to impress you and Llewellyn," she admits, "I wasn't sure what you two would like, but Lee loves when I make those recipes from Julia Child and I bet Llewellyn would love it too! I could lend you the book some time!"
"Of course. I love her work!" Y/n lies straight through her teeth. She has no clue who the hell Julia Child is.
Florence grabs one last thing before calling the husbands into the dining room. She places one beer on the coasters designated for Lee and Lou. Lou has never been much of a drinker, but she knows that Lee can knock down a few beers in one sitting. He might be on his best behavior tonight in front of his wife and company.
"Dinner's ready!" Florence called out.
Y/n took her seat on the right side of the table and Florence sat opposite of her. Their husbands come walking in laughing as if they were young boys sneaking back into the house during a family get together. Y/n doesn't like it; she doesn't like it at all. They look too cheery with each other and she knows that Lee is doing it on purpose — she can see it in his eyes when he quickly glances at her. He takes pride in making her uncomfortable. Y/n wishes she had that same affect on him to scare him off a bit, but no matter how chummy she gets with Florence, Lee looks unbothered.
Florence stands up from her seat as if she's presenting the food on the table to an audience. Everything is placed perfectly with the main dish being the middle of the smaller plates.
"This looks great honey, you made a whole feast," Lee walked up to Florence's side and kissed on the cheek. Y/n's eyes are trained on his hand snaking around her waist and giving her a light squeeze before letting go. When she pulls her eyes away from his hands, she sees that Florence almost looks shocked at her husband's affection; Lee is definitely putting on a show for Y/n and it's a damn good one.
Lee sits opposite of Lou and the first thing he does is open his beer. The food isn't even on plates anymore and he's drinking.
"I hope you like Schmidt's, Llewellyn. Lee loves it so it's all we have in the house."
"I'm not one to drink beer often, but I'll try it. And call me Lou, Florence."
Lou was acting out of his normal character. Him only interacting with his family and Y/n left him a bit awkward in the presence of others, but around Florence and Lee he seems to be much...warmer. If Lee was someone else then Y/n would be over the moon, but because it's him she can't even force herself to even look happy about it.
Y/n takes note of how Florence places portions of food on Lee's plate. They were small portions too. She was always strict about what he ate and how much he drank. She's surprised Florence is letting him drink tonight, but she must be trying to look nicer in front of guests.
Y/n was not as controlling as Florence. She always let Lou fix his plate to his liking. She thought it made her a good wife for letting her husband make his own decisions. But Y/n felt a tap on her shoulder after she finished making her own plate. He looked down at his empty plate before looking back at her and nodded towards the food.
"Y/n," he tries to whisper but his tone is rather harsh.
"What?" She whispers back in true confusion.
"My plate."
He looked at her as if she was crazy, as if it was a common occurrence for her to fix his plate. She starts to scramble to save herself from further embarrassment, the sound of silverware against plates so loud. She can feel the stares coming from the other side of the table but she doesn't dare look up.
Her skin began to grow hot. Her husband had embarrassed her in front of Lee and Florence. The worst part was when Florence tried to change the subject to something lighthearted to pull the attention off of Y/n. She felt small and useless. Lou never expected her to fix his plate, but he looked at her as if she was crazy for not doing so. She didn't want to spend dinner almost in tears. This changed behavior in her husband is giving her whiplash and making her dizzy.
"So, Y/n, did you enjoy the other night?"
"It was really nice Florence," she replies sheepishly.
"Susie and I put so much work into planning it. You should join us next time! We're going to start working on the fundraising events for Lee's next campaign-"
"Let's not talk about that tonight Florence," Lee interrupts. It was a moment that would've left Y/n embarrassed if she was in Florence's shoes but Florence was much better at masking her emotions. Only for a split second can Y/n see Florence flinch at his interjection before she just smiles.
"Sorry Lee, you know how excited I get about those things," she masks her apology in a cheery voice.
Dinner basically became a probe of Y/n and Lou's relationship. Florence wanted to know how they met, when they got married, how long they had been together, and what their future plans together were. Y/n let Lou answer the last question by herself because she genuinely didn't know what their future plans were. Lou usually wakes up and decides what major life change they're going to undertake, that's what happened when he decided to move to Brewer Heights.
When the topic of work came up, Y/n thought the coast was clear. Lou talked extensively about the work he does with his father and what his plan is for the next five years regarding the business.
"Once my father retires I'll have to hire someone to do his job. I didn’t go study in school after high school so I can't take over his position, even though it would make things easier."
"I'm sure you can find someone. I know it's rare for someone to leave the city and come to this little town, but Brewer Heights is always a nice incentive!"
"It is nice here," Lou agrees, "and it's quiet. We were in Meade before which is okay-"
"But, it's nothing like Brewer Heights," Florence interjects. "So, Y/n, what did you do before meeting Lou?"
Lee had not looked her way since the plate-fixing incident but his eyes were sure on her now. If his mouth wasn't stuffed with food he'd be grinning from ear to ear waiting for her answer. He knows she's not a good liar, but she's going to have to come up with something.
"I helped my mom with her business. She used to sell fruit preserves out of the house before she passed."
It wasn't a complete lie. She did help her mother label her jars, but that became less frequent when her hours picked up at Tecumseh. Her parents didn't know about her job either; she told them she was a waitress and it was a safe lie seeing as they didn't go out to diners.
"I'm sorry for your loss, I'm sure she was a lovely woman if she raised such a lovely daughter! Have you ever thought of continuing her business?"
"Not really. It was pretty small. I still make the preserves sometimes for Lou and I."
"If you wouldn't mind, would you be interested in making some for us one day? You don't have to if you don't want to, but it's just so hard to find any good fruit preserves around town." Florence's social habits were very transparent once you were around her for long; she tends to make it impossible for people to say no to her by making them feel bad about even possibly saying no.
"I'd love to Florence. I have fresh peaches at home and I can make peach preserves."
"Oh I'd love that so much," she fawns, "a jar for me and a jar for Lee! He loves his sweets."
"I'm not too big on peaches, Flo. You know I like cherries more."
"You always have," she leans into him and pats him on the chest before straightening up again.
The audacity of Lee is astounding, however not only is he a cop, he's the sheriff. It's such a cowardly move to pick at Y/n when she can't react, but what someone would call cowardly, he'd call fun. She looks like she wants to disappear from her spot and it scratches an itch for him. He missed seeing her get flustered and if he'd known that it would be much more enjoyable to taunt her while his wife was around, he would have found a reason a long time ago to bring her around.
And as if the night couldn't be more humiliating for her, Lou finished his plate before anyone else. He devoured the food on his plate, like a starved man. Y/n felt embarrassed when her husband went for seconds. He never eats this much at home, even when she makes his favorite meals. It makes her want to reach across the dinner table and smack Florence in the face. She hates her; she hates that she has to smile in her face and be friends with her. It's her own fault for continuing this "friendship" with Florence, but her rage makes her blind to her own faults.
She could ruin Florence's life with one sentence: "I've been fucking your husband for years." She'd cause a scene but it would be so gratifying.
Instead she just shuts her mouth and lets dinner continue without anymore incidents.
-
Y/n thought it would show she was grateful for dinner if she helped Florence with the dishes. She was glad to accept Y/n's help and the two spent their time in the kitchen while Lee and Lou sat on the back porch. With Lee's influence, Lou took another drink out back with him. Y/n wondered what they had to talk about, but she would truly not like to know.
"Your wife cooks like that every night, sheriff?"
"Enough with the title. And she cooks every night, but she went a little overboard since she was happy with having guests," he tells him. If it was anybody else, Lee would just answer the questions and not have any for himself. However, he really wants to know what Y/n has been up to since she's adopted this new image. "How about Y/n? Does she cook for you like that?"
"Not at all. She tries, but she's not the good of a cook," he brings the alcohol up to his lips before pulling away and sighing, "she tries but it's just not her best."
"Her mother didn't teach her how to cook?"
"I don't know much about her family. Her mother was dead when I met her and her father doesn't seem to be doing so well. They're from the same area as my folks but moved when they had Y/n. Maybe she was just too spoiled considering she's an only child."
Y/n's past was a mystery to Lee too, but he's surprised to learn she hasn't opened up to her husband. All he knows is that whether it was her home life or not, something had messed her up and it was almost made worse by her time at Tecumseh. He isn't sure how she made it out, but so much of her old life still bleeds through.
"You know I thought I was getting a good girl. One that would clean and have dinner ready when I get home," Lou continued.
Lee wanted to laugh in his face. Lou is proof that you can come from a smart family and still be dumb as rocks. How could he not know what type of girl Y/n was when he first laid eyes on her? She'd dress just like his sister Sandy; shorts that suffered from mistreatment over the years and a sleeveless blouse that was always stained. He's sure her hair was mussed up that day too. Many people would mistake her for a whore (which many people did see her as one even though she didn't outright sell her body to anyone).
"It can't be that bad," Lee tried to vouch for his former lover. Even he can name some good qualities about her; they just don't include any wifely qualities.
"It's not, but things could be better. Anytime I tell her to shape-up she gets this timid look on her face and flinches a little bit. I try to be nice and gentle but I'm losing my patience with her. I’m not looking to leave her, but what’s the point of marrying a woman who can’t do anything? She won’t even talk to me about having kids — was Florence ever like this?”
“No. Her family is from here so she’s been primed to be a housewife. But I will say it’s not all that fun havin’ a doting wife…she’s overbearing at times and I can never unwind with her around. She’s always on my ass about somethin’.”
Lee felt the need to vouch for Y/n. Anytime he would go to Tecumseh, she would accompany out back or get into his cruiser whenever he told her to. All the gritty things he dealt with at work, everything he kept inside, he dumped it on her. Florence would never sit there to listen to his grievances. Lee would never admit it, but he was vulnerable around Y/n, he knew that she would always be there to listen and he attached himself to that. In the beginning she wasn’t willingly listening to his problems but by the end she was. She took care of him when he was too drunk to go home, or she would let him take his stress and frustration out on her body. However, it doesn’t seem as if Lou is budging; his mind is made up.
“I work long hours. My father is putting more responsibilities on me. I put Y/n in that nice home, the least she could do is not serve me burnt food. Hangin’ around Florence and that Susie woman should have at least influenced her or something,” he continued to complain.
Florence was the last person that would be able to influence a girl like Y/n. Lee didn't know why his wife was seemingly grooming that girl. If anything it was just another person for her to control since Lee started telling her to knock it off. The only time she can get away with controlling her husband is if they're in the company of others where Lee has to be on his best behavior.
Y/n is not the type to be influenced by another woman. The only woman she held in high regard was her mother. Y/n listens to male authority. She listens to a man that will rough her up a little bit but then be sweet on her afterwards. She’s a little fucked up and jaded from her former “profession.” Lee knows this, but not Lou. He seems to know nothing of her past and Lee isn’t going to snitch on her.
“I can talk to Florence and see if she can do something. I know she likes taking people under her wing and shit. She seems to really like Y/n too.”
“I’d greatly appreciate that Lee. I know I sound like I’m hard on her, but I do love her. It’s hard for me to show when she just doesn’t put any effort in.”
"Don't worry. I'll talk to Florence — I'll make everything right."
#lee bodecker#lee bodecker x oc#lee bodecker fic#lee bodecker x y/n#lee bodecker x reader#lee bodecker x ofc#lee bodecker x you#lee bodecker smut#the devil all the time#dark fic#fic#sebastian stan
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Together we can quiet all the noises
3k of malex fluff post 3x09 (Read on ao3)
Alex woke up slowly, feeling his face buried into something warm. As he came to his senses, he realised his entire body was wrapped against a human size pillow, making him hum in comfort. He opened his eyes, blinking a few times to get used to the light coming through the curtains. Once his eyes were used to it, he met Michael’s soft eyes and warm smile, who was playing with his hair.
Alex had both his arms around Michael’s right leg, his head on his lap, while Michael was sitting against the headboard, one hand in Alex’s hair and the other holding a book, smiling down on Alex.
“Morning,” Michael said softly, not to disturb Alex, “how are you feeling?”
Alex took a few seconds to think about his answer, enjoying the warmth and the comfort of Michael’s alien body and the blanket. The events of the last few days came back to him, still a bit hazy, but clear enough that he remembered nearly everything. He remembered working on the Lockhart machine longer than he should’ve, missing his and Michael’s first public date, hallucinating Nora, their conversation, standing on the ledge, nearly dying.
But he also remembered Michael coming to save him, them working on the machine together and cutting out his father’s piece from it, Michael driving him back home and Alex falling asleep, Michael holding him close.
“Better,” he answered eventually, deciding that he wasn’t good yet, but wanted to work on it. Michael smiled and continued to play with his hair. Alex sighed, making Michael chuckle, but not stop.
He had a pensive look on his face, having put his book down on the bedside table, clearly playing words in his head, finding the best way to say what he wanted. And so Alex waited, neither of them were in a hurry.
After some time, Michael spoke up again, his voice barely more than a whisper, “You could’ve died, Alex.” He took a shaky breath, his eyes never leaving Alex’s, “I only just got you back, losing you - I can’t -” he went off, looking up and blinking the tears away.
Alex, feeling much better physically after a good night's sleep, sat up to face Michael. He raised a hand to his cheek rubbing the tears away with his thumb. “I’m sorry,” he said, matching Michael’s whisper.
“I know,” he replied, “but next time, call me?”
And Alex thought about that. Michael wasn’t asking him to call so he could stop him from whatever brave or stupid plan he had. Michael wasn’t asking Alex to call him to blame or criticise or whatever it is that both of them would’ve done in the past.
No, this time, Michael wanted Alex to call him so he could help. So he could be present by Alex’s side, just like he was when they worked on the machine together. And Alex knew that it worked both ways now. That Michael understood why Alex had worked on the machine for so long, why he had to.
More unspoken words, Alex thought. Except this time, they also spoke words. This time, they asked each other for help when they needed it.
“I will,” Alex replied, a promise.
Their faces were only a few inches away, and even though they had both grown, had started to communicate more with each other, there was still a language they were fluent in.
Whereas in the past it was usually in a hurry, a stopwatch over their heads, counting down the days, the hours, the minutes until they had to separate, now they had all the time in the world.
It was slow, yet still desperate. Desperate for love, fear still running in their veins. But there was hope too. Hope for a future together. Their lips met, moving as one rhythm, hands coming to their hair, a dance they knew by heart, but was still as exhilarating as the first time.
Until a loud rumble came from between them, making them separate, Michael barely hiding his laugh and Alex blushing. He never cursed his stomach as much as in that moment. He leaned into Michael once more, hoping to continue the dance that was just interrupted, but Michael leaned away, putting his hands on Alex’s shoulder and pushing him away.
Alex wanted to be mad, but looking at the love on Michael’s face, he realised that they had time to do all they wanted. And now, he also realised he wanted food.
His stomach seemed to agree once more, making itself heard. This time, Michael didn’t even bother, and giggled loudly, his shoulder moving up and down, and soon Alex was joining him.
When they both caught their breaths again, Michael pushed Alex down, carefully, against the mattress, straddling his hips, before kissing his nose and getting off the bed. Alex’s hand, who had landed against Michael’s naked hip, followed the other man, then fell on the bed, dramatically. Michael simply rolled his eyes at the scene in front of him, smiling at Alex’s pout.
“I’ll get the bath ready for you then I’ll make you some lunch, how about that?” he asked, in answer to Alex’s stomach.
Alex hummed at the mention of a bath, his water bill would be higher this month, this being the second bath he took since Michael took him home from Deep Sky.
“Wait lunch? How long did I sleep?” he asked in amazement, he had gone to bed at merely 6 pm, so this would possibly be the longest sleep he had since - well since forever now that he thought about it, his father having applied the military clock in the house.
“About 17-18 hours? I woke up around 9,” Michael replied with a shrug. According to him, Alex still needed much more sleep, and maybe to never leave the bed where the two could cuddle all day.
Alex turned around, looking at the clock on the bedside table for the first time since he woke up. It showed 11:36 am. So he had indeed sleeped for the longest in his entire life. Maybe he should do that again, if it got him such amazing sleep…
He realised he had said that at loud, when Michael nearly shouted No! with a scandalised face, before turning around to start on lunch.
“Wait!” Alex called out after him, making Michael turn around so fast his neck nearly snapping, “can, uh, can I help you? With lunch,” he added at Michael’s confused look, making him smile.
“I didn’t know you cooked, private,” Michael replied with a smug smile, which quickly faltered at Alex’s expression.
“I don’t, I usually order take out or eat prepared food,” he said, with sadness and a hint of disappointment in his voice. His dad never thought teaching his kids cooking was necessary, and his mom left before he could even have solid memories of her.
Seeing Alex feeling down, and deciding that he could curse Jesse Manes and his shitty parenting all he wanted, right now his focus was Alex. “I always dreamt of giving a soldier orders,” Michael said instead, trying to get a smile out of Alex.
And it worked, “Fuck you,” the other man laughed out. “Oh and, I don’t have much food in my kitchen…” he continued, feeling slightly ashamed of his cooking skills, or the lack thereof.
“Alex,” Michael said, stopping the spiraling and gaining Alex’s attention, “I literally learned to cook in a junkyard, I - we - will be able to cook something delicious,” he replied with confidence, catching himself up. If Alex wanted to help, how much of a catastrophe could it end up being?
In the end, they decided that the bath could wait until after Alex had eaten something, so they got dressed and made their way to the kitchen, where Alex sat on the counter watching Michael open all his cabinets.
He had often dreamt of that moment, when he would wake up next to Michael in bed, and could see him cook something. He had heard a lot from Maria about Guerin’s cooking skills, and wanted to test them for himself.
Michael, after having a look through all the cabinets, stood up and faced Alex. “Okay so,” he said, standing in between Alex’s legs, “I think I overestimated the food you have.”
All while he talked, he rubbed his hands up and down Alex’s body, making him hum and smile, “But, lucky for you, I am an expert in throwing weird stuff together and hoping for them best.”
“Sure, but we will need to go grocery shopping together soon,” Alex chuckled, putting his arms around Michael’s neck and playing with the curls.
“Oh thank god!” he exhaled, leaning his head into Alex’s shoulder, “I didn’t want to offend you, but babe, this is bad.”
Alex felt more than heard Michael’s laugh against his neck, and couldn’t help but join, somehow not ashamed of his cabinets. Michael had reacted in such a way that Alex was at ease, every cell in his body content to just stay in this embrace, to have Michael against him and to play with his hair. However, his stomach once more decided to separate them.
Michael detached himself from Alex and kissed his pout away, before reaching for a saucepan and giving him instruction.
They cooked in a light atmosphere, music coming out of Alex’s phone, Michael occasionally reaching to him to make sure he didn’t overcook anything. They moved around each other with an ease neither knew was there. Michael still didn’t quite know where everything was and would open three cabinets before finding what he was looking for, Alex claiming that he didn’t know enough about cooking to help. More than once they bumped into each other, both reaching for the same spatula, or both heading to check the pasta.
Once everything was prepared, they separated the food into two plates and sat at the table to eat, sitting in front of each other. Lunch turned out delicious - not that Alex had any doubt. They had made Tagliatelle with white sauce and tins of corn and carrots. It was simple, but to Alex? It was the best meal he had ever eaten.
“It’s because you haven’t eaten properly in two days,” Michael had said with a slight blush after Alex had complimented his cooking.
They ate, talking about nothing yet everything. Sharing little stories they knew the other didn’t know. Little facts that didn’t matter over the course of the last decade. But that mattered now that they were both ready for a steady relationship.
Afterwards, Alex went to take a bath while Michael did the dishes. He knocked on the door and opened it once Alex had agreed. He was met with the sight of Alex laying under a slim cover of soap, barely hiding anything, his eyes merely opened, an arm on the edge of the bath.
“I, uh, finished the dishes,” Michael said, trying to print this image in his head forever. Alex, relaxed, happy.
“Wanna join?” Alex asked, with a tilt of his head. This was new territory for the both of them. They had seen each other naked, obviously, but it was always with the rush of sex, and never with something as domestic as a bath.
Michael nodded with a smile and started to take off his clothes, feeling suddenly very self-conscious about his body. Any doubts he had however, flew out the window when he saw the look in Alex’s eyes. It wasn’t a look of pure lust. Of course the want and lust was there, how could it not be between them, but it was also accompanied by something deeper, something that Michael had never dared to imagine. Love. Admiration. Those were words both dropped after their teenage years. After they realised the hurt and pain the world could cause. After they realised that that hurt and pain came from their love.
But there wasn’t any pain in their love anymore. The scars they wore, both physical and mental, didn’t only bring pain and heartbreak anymore. They were also symbols of the battles they fought to get to this exact moment, naked in front of each other, in more ways than one.
And so Michael joined it, and after the awkward shifts, they leaned into each other, Michael in between Alex’s legs, his head bent in an awkward angle so it could lean on Alex’s shoulder while also looking at him.
They got cleaned, but it was less needed as the bath and shower they took the day before, so they simply relaxed and enjoyed the moment.
After getting dried and dressed, they questioned what to do for the rest of the day. Where before they would have jumped on the occasion to head to bed and have quick, intense, sex, this time they were conscious about it. Alex’s leg was still sore from having worn the prosthetic for so long without a break, and he could also feel each of his muscles tense when he moved. So sex was out of the equation for now. And neither felt bad about it. They just needed to figure out what a couple did on a lazy afternoon.
They couldn’t go to the movies, Alex’s brain and eyes wouldn’t be very happy with it all. And Alex mentioned that technically the only date he had ever been on was at a paintball place, so really he shouldn’t be taken into account when making decisions.
And this is how Michael got his idea (not that he would ever thank Forrest for it).
He drove them into town, telling Alex that it was a surprise, and parked his truck on the main square. He opened the door to Alex, who answered with an eye roll and a blush, and led him towards the library.
They weren’t holding hands, knowing that Roswell was still not a very queer-friendly place, and not really in the mood for bigots, but they were walking close enough that their shoulders would occasionally bump. In their own little bubble, they opened the door to the library, and on instinct Michael made his way to the physics and space section, before remembering why he was there.
Today wasn’t about borrowing a book about space or relativity or agriculture. No, today was about giving him and Alex something that neither had growing up.
Ignoring Alex’s confused questions, he took them to the children’s section, passed all the books and opened the glass doors to the games section. He chuckled as he saw Alex start to understand what they were doing there.
“I didn’t even know there were so many games here,” he said in amazement.
“I know!” Michael replied, “I only found out about it cause some kid got lost in the engineering section.”
They separated to browse all the different games, agreeing to start with two games each and see where the rest of the afternoon would go.
The only inconvenience about the room they were in was that it was built for children and wasn’t the most comfortable for Alex. But Michael, having decided that this day was going to be perfect, went to talk to the librarians - who he was starting to know well, coming here to use their computers or borrow books as often as he could. He came back with a smile, indicating to Alex that they were going to make an exception for them, and allow them to take the games to a reading room by the side, where there were bigger tables and chairs.
And so they played. They played Clue (Alex won, but not by much), Milles Bornes (Michael won, Alex insisted he cheated), Timeline (Alex won, Michael blames the high school history lessons), made funny figures in Chrominos, and struggled to understand the rules of Backgammon, before ending with a Game of Trains.
One of the librarians - Christie - had to come tell them that the library was closing in 10 minutes, but she barely broke their bubble of comfort. They tidied all the games and put them back on the shelves, helping a little girl put back a game of Monopoly, and left.
Once in the truck, Michael didn't drive away straight off. Instead, he turned to Alex, sharing all his emotions in a single look. Unspoken words. Alex replied by putting his hand on his arm, “Next time, I will crush you at Milles Bornes,” he said with a smile. Next time. Because there will be a next time, they both knew it.
They didn’t drive back to Alex’s house, still buzzing with happiness and comfort. Instead, they drove to the Crashdown and sat at a booth, enjoying burgers and fries and milkshakes. And they made plans for the next day. They would go shopping together, Michael deciding whatever he wanted to buy. Afterwards they would enjoy each other and the comfort of Alex’s bed. And once they were well rested, they would go to the Pony. Together.
That word rang differently too. They have been seen together across town, and in the Pony before. But back then, they weren’t together together.
Alex paid for their dinner, insisting that Michael had cooked lunch and had the idea for the library, and had taken care of him for the last 24 hours.
As they left the diner, saying goodbye to Arturo, their fingers found themselves entwined, and they walked to Michael’s truck, hand in hand, without a care for the world.
That day, even though it followed a very traumatising event, was one of the best days they ever had. They learned a new dance, and they couldn’t wait to get home to continue it. After all, they had time ahead of them.
#never thouhgt id write romance#and here i am with my 5th malex fic 😂#i guess theres something about them#finally being free to love one another#makes me feel feelings#also all the games listed are great games#and i have no idea what the roswell library looks like or if it even has a board games section#my libary does have a game section tho#so it's all based on it#michael guerin#alex manes#malex fic#roswell new mexico#rnm#rnm fic#thesquidkid writes
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Sweater in the Snow|| Sbi angst.
>•||Chapter 8||•<
Gender Neutral! Reader
|| Please do not steal my work, I work hard in writing them so I appreciate you do not go around stealing my work and claim it as yours||
A/n: This is the longest chapter I have written so far but I have this small feeling that the chapters would be longer in future but if not, as usual each chapter is 1k words long.
Philza rocks the child in his arms as he gazes as the baby coos at him grabbing at anything that their little hands could grab on.
Philza was finally a Father, the thought of witnessing life growing and being nurtured had left a fuzzy warm feeling in him, like the warm embrace of the Mother.
Philza holds the child close and promises to protects them with all his might and let nothing bad happen to them.
The child would only play his hair and grab at his striped bucket hat, too young to understand what this moment meant.
This meant that Philza Minecraft had promised that he'd keep this child safe and sound to grow in a loving household and is cared for.
It's because He promised...
-----------------------------
Philza took the plates and went to the kitchen to wash them, as he washed he listened in to the children talking, Y/n was going on about something that happened when they were hanging out with the crows during their time out in the woods to Techno.
Techno listened in as he watches the child do gestures as they go on about their day, a small smile making it's way onto his face.
Techno or Technoblade was a child Philza had taken in and raised like he was his own, he was like a protegé, an apprentice but he was more than that, he was family.
Y/n was a child of Philza's, a little bit younger than Techno, they really made things different ever since they came into the world, they haven't grown in their wings yet so assuming they are human considering they are already 8, by now they would've already grown a pair of wings like Philza's but it was fine.
Them being happy and healthy was what's important.
Techno and Y/n also got along very well, Techno was a fan of Greek Mythology and Y/n loved to listen to Techno talk about it, they thought the stories were very fun and amazing (despite the gory stuff that happened) but overall they were like attached to the hip, Techno wasn't one to be very expressive with his emotions but he felt alright to display affection towards the child.
Everything was alright for the three of them and nothing could've been more better right now.
Philza had finished up washing and drying dishes when he made his way to the living room to see that Techno and Y/n were on the couch, Y/n playing with Techno's hair and Techno just sat still as he read his book.
Philza smiled at the sight, it just never seizes to tug at his heart, he'd do anything to protect these two, to keep this picture of them clear and in no harm.
Philza clapped his hands together and the two turned to him, 'It's time for bed time, Y/n, Techno, You guys can resume this in the morning it's getting late.' Y/n pouted as they looked at Philza, their (e/c) eyes shining.
Philza sighs and shakes his head, smiling he says 'Not this time my little angel.' 'Awwww' they looked down to their lap but get off the couch and walk over to Philza looking up at him with their arms extended, Philza picks them up and walk up the stairs to the direction of the child's bedroom.
Philza opens the door and places the child in their bed tucking them in, they yawn as they rub sleepily at their eyes, Philza makes a move to open Y/n's night light and gives them a kiss on the forehead, he runs a hand through their (h/c) hair he stands up and closes the lights and left the room.
*-*
...n
...Y/n..
Y/N
Y/n wakes up with a start gasping as they look around, they grip their blankets closer to themself as another call of their name makes them sit up and get down their bed.
They pull on their sleeves as they follow the voice, it was dark inside the house but they didn't mind as they follow the familiar voice of their Father, they didn't bother to grab a coat or put on boots as they only sported their sweater and pajama bottoms.
They open the door and close it as they stand on their front porch searching for their Father, again they hear the voice and follow, they shiver at the cold contact of the snow beneath their feet but trudge forward to the direction of the voice, beyond the woods, they now start running to keep up.
They wrap their arms around themself trying to keep warm as they shout for their Father, 'DAD WHERE ARE WE GOING?' They furrow their brows but they didn't get a response.
Turning around they breath out air as they try to remember where they were, looking up they try to look for their Father's crows in hope that the crow could call their Father for them, they gasp as they see a familiar crow 'Chat! Chat! Please get Dad!' They flail their arms at the crow, it caws and flies up to the sky in the direction from where they came from.
They pant as they try to stay awake, given that they had woken up in the middle of the night, they shiver as they cup their hands together and try to warm it up, they try to look around again where they were supposed to go, they supposed to follow Chat but they got confused which direction they flew.
They decided to just start walking hoping that was the direction Chat had flee in.
*-*
Phil groggily woke up as he grumbled rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he turns to the window of his room to see Chat hitting the window with their beak, when they notice that Philza was awake they flap their wings and Caw.
Phil mutters something under his breath and gets out of bed to open the window and bring the bird in, Chat settles on Phil's arm, 'What is Chat? It's the middle of the night..' Phil still sleepy rubs his eyes and listens in to what the bird has to say, They squak and caw at Phil telling him what he needed to hear.
Phil's breath hitched as Chat finishes, he rushes to get his clothes on and going over to Y/n's room to see that their in fact not their and go over to grab them a coat just in case and he goes over to Techno's room to wake him up.
Techno stirs in his sleep and looks to a disheveled looking Phil as he sits up to ask him what was going on but before he could even ask, Phil shoves a coat and his sword towards him, 'Put on your coat and boots, bring your sword in case, Y/n isn't in their room.' Phil says in a hurry as he ties up his hair, Techno's eyes widen but he complies.
Y/n was his family and he'd do anything to protect them, he didn't want to lose them, not now not ever.
He gears up and he hurries to tie the laces of his boots, he tried his hardest to ignore the voices when they clashed with each other demanding that Techno would bring them home safe.
He shakes his head and stands up when he finishes up tying his laces, grabbing his sword he trudges down stairs and goes outside and see Phil letting Chat fly up into the air, 'Chat will be flying back to where they found Y/n, if they can't find them there we'll look around the area they were last seen.' Phil says, Techno nods and Phil takes up into the air and they follow the Crow.
Please be okay...
*-*
Y/n had settled against a tree because they were getting tired, they shivered as they hug themselves, failing to keep themselves warm, their vision began to become blurry as tears started forming in their eyes, 'I want Techno and Daddy back!' They cry as they call for Techno and their Dad.
Their fingertips and toes were starting to feel numb, they look down at their hands, their gands started reddening and it felt very prickly and numb, it standed out with their (s/c) skin, they sobbed and buried their head in their arms.
They just wanted their Daddy back...
Phil looked around the area trying to see if his child was around, he also tried looking for footprints but unfortunately more snow covered it up, 'Techno, You take that direction and I'll take this one, Chat you go look to that direction, Techno you know what to do when you find them and Chat come back to me when you find them.' Phil orders as the two gave a nod, Chat flies into the air and Techno goes into the opposite direction of Phil's.
Phil takes a deep breath and runs forward gripping onto the spare coat he brought with him, he wasn't ready to lose Y/n, he wanted to see them grow into a person they want to be, He has met many people and has been with them and has watched them die but he didn't think that he'd lose his child this way and so soon.
'Y/N!'
'Y/N! WHERE ARE YOU?'
You started feeling sleepy, you look again to your hands and it started to become blackish, transforming from white to black fingertips.
They cringe at the sight, they started drifting but a call to their name makes them lift up their head, they look around but frown when they see no one.
They shouldn't have followed the voice, if they didn't they would've been still okay and asleep in their room, another sob is racked from their throat as they grip on their hair in frustration, 'Y/N!' They stop, They look up and another call of their name has them flinching 'SWEETHEART PLEASE! WHERE ARE YOU?' They start tearing up again as they try to stand up, 'Dad..' They tried shouting for their Father but their boice was so hoarse it was just like a mere whisper.
They stood up and steadied themself against the tree as they listen again for another call, 'Y/N!' another shout comes from in front of them, they try running but that had them falling back into the snow face first, they grunt but carefully try standing back up.
A caw from above is heard, they look up to see Chat, they smile and let out an airy chuckle with new found determination they stand up and walk slowly and call out again hoping they are heard, 'Dad!' They cringe at the pain but go through it calling out to Philza again 'DAD!' They shout sobbing as the pain was starting to become unbearable.
Philza gasps as he runs forward seeing the familiar figure of his child, 'Y/N!' He shouts, he starts picking up the pace as he sees Y/n more clearer, their once (s/c) was starting to get paler and their hands and feet had frostbite on them, they started feeling weak and started falling but before they could fall into the snow Philza catches them.
He started sobbing when he finally got them in his arms again, 'It's okay, I've got you.' He starts dressing them in the coat but he knows it won't do much since they were freezing cold, he carries them and he takes out his comm and messages Techno.
Techno hears the beep of his comm and went to grab it and saw that Phil messaged him, he opened it and he felt like he breathed easier when he saw that Phil had found Y/n.
Their okay...
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1.9k words.
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Don’t Hold Me -19- Carter Hart
A/N: as always, all previous parts are linked in my master list. Also, umm don’t hate me for what happens at the very end. MENTIONS OF VIOLENCE at the end as well, so if that could potently be triggering for you please be warned.
There was a moment, right when you first opened your eyes that you could’ve sworn you were a teenager again. You could hear Travis arguing with Ethan just feet from you, with the sound of someone playing NHL in the background. You felt so warm due to a blanket that someone had to have tossed over you at some point during the night. You wondered if you would see your house when you opened your eyes.
But there was an arm wrapped around you. So you couldn’t be at home. You were in Travis’s apartment. Ethan came in to help you and Kora move all of your things into a storage unit for the summer. He was going to stay for part of the playoffs. Carter was sleeping next to you. You’d both fallen asleep during a movie.
You wiggled out from under Carter’s arm, following the sound of the voices to the kitchen. Kora, who still looked half asleep, was tucked under Ethan’s arm. Nolan was playing NHL in the living room, yelling at one of the other Flyers through a headset. In your gut, you knew this was what a normal morning with them. This is what life should be like.
“Y/N! Tell him that he’s wrong!” Travis begged, pointing to Ethan.
You shook your head, still too tired to even start to get into their mess, “Please tell me someone made coffee?”
Kora stepped away from E, “I’ll pour you a cup.”
“Carter still knocked out?” Ethan asked as you sat down on one of the bar stools.
“Yeah, you two arguing woke me up,” You responded slowly, “What were you two arguing over anyway?”
“Don’t ask,” Kora handed you a cup of coffee, “They’re being guys.”
“They’re arguing over who had more points when they played together,” Nolan announced from the couch.
“Oh, that’s easy, it was Ethan,” You shrugged, “Travis had the most penalty minutes.”
Kora had to hold back a laugh at the face that Travis made. Truth was, although Travis was an incredible player, even then, he was still very scrappy. He made a lot of bad plays and often let his head get the better of him. Ethan was always more level headed, and was responsible for more than his fair share of assists. But when the two of them were on the ice together, nothing was going to stop them. You missed watching them together like that.
“Someone had to do all the dirty work,” Travis explained, “But I don’t get that many penalties now.”
Kora reached over and messed up his hair, “No, you behave now. Like a good little feisty Canadian.”
“Careful, he bites when provoked,” Carter joked, finally seeming to have woken up.
“Better watch it, we have practice in a couple of hours, I won’t take it easy on you,” Travis warned.
“Okay Teeks, sure,” Carter kissed the top of your head, “Morning babe.”
You felt your cheeks heat up a little as you tilted your head to look up at him. This was something you could really get used to, all of you being together like this. You and Kora had to move out of the dorm, since the year was finally over. So Travis was letting her and Ethan crash at his place, while you stayed with Carter. Although, last night all of you ended up over here to watch movies and eat pizza. Nolan casually reminded everyone that pizza was not a part of the approved playoff diet.
“Sleep okay?” Carter asked you, taking a sip of your coffee.
You nodded and leaned back into him, “Out like a light.”
Carter wrapped his arms around you, dropping his head so his chin rested on your shoulder. His hair tickled your cheek, causing you to smile. Across from you, both Ethan and Travis were watching you with the same sort of fond smile.
Kora looked between the two other men, “Just say it, they’re cute,” She huffed, “Nolan, you wanna play me?”
“I’d like to see what you’re made of,” Nolan replied, holding up an extra controller.
The following night, you, Kora, and Ethan file into the arena, ready for the next game in the series. Carter was starting in net tonight, and Travis literally wouldn’t stop bouncing all day long. You made a joke that someone needed to take out his batteries. Kora held onto Ethan, smiling as random Flyers fans high fived each other for wearing jerseys.
“Now this is a good way to celebrate another year of hell being over,” Kora joked, “We’re all drinking tonight, right?”
“You two can have all you’d like,” E told us, “I’ll be semi sober so I can take care of both of you.”
Kora looked up at him in a way that you could only describe as love. It was weird, seeing your best friend and your brother like that. Yet, it made you happy at the same time. You liked the idea of them being happy together, come what may.
“We should get to our seats,” You told them, “Drinks later.”
“I’m going to be the only one getting drunk tonight, aren’t I?” Kora questioned.
Both you and Ethan laughed, knowing you weren’t going to have more than a drink, maybe two. The only time you ever really got drunk was with Kora, but you wanted to be sober for this. You wanted to watch every second as the game unfolded. You wanted to be able to run to Carter and hold him after the game was over, because who knew how many more times you could do that.
Kora leaned over to you once you were all in your seats, “You have that look again, are you okay?”
You forced a smile and tried to push away the sudden sickening feeling you had in your stomach, “yeah, I’m fine.”
But you couldn’t shake the sudden feeling that you shouldn’t have come tonight. That you should’ve watched from Carter’s apartment. But you hadn’t missed a home game almost all season, and you certainly weren’t going to miss a playoff game.
Yet, every ounce of you was screaming to run, to get away while you still could. But you knew you were safe, Zachary wouldn’t dare come near you while Ethan was here. He wouldn’t really do anything in the arena, where all of the security knew you by now. You were safe here.
You tugged on the sleeves of your jersey, pulling them down so they covered your hands. You couldn’t help the little shiver that went through you. So instead, you pulled out your phone and looked at the last text Carter sent you, vowing to win since everyone was here. Your eyes seemed to stay glued to the part where he said he loved you and he loved knowing that you were wearing his jersey.
Although he laughed about it at first, somehow knowing that the jersey on your back was actually his old one, and not just one you got from the team store, made him feel different. Like you were really shouting to everyone that you were his, and he was yours. He often chirped some of the other guys about their relationships, but that all stopped when he realized how much he loved you.
Because the truth of it was, Carter could see a whole life with you. An entire future that was so bright and full of love and happiness. He hadn’t told you that yet, mainly because he didn’t want to scare you. But he wanted everything with you. He wanted a ring on your finger, you walking down an aisle all in white, maybe a couple of kids in a house outside the city one day. But for now...for now he was just happy knowing you had on his jersey while you watched him play.
You hold tightly onto Kora’s hand as the clock ticks down. Carter was so close to a shutout. How often could you say that your boyfriend got a shutout during the Stanley Cup playoffs? You were so sure that your heart would beat right out of your chest. Even E seemed to literally be on the edge of his seat.
Sure they were still a few games off from winning the series, but this would really tip the scales in their favor. For the first time you actually let yourself think about it. About what it would mean for Travis, Nolan, and for Carter. You could almost picture them hoisting the cup. Could almost see yourself on the ice with everyone, laughing as Travis attacked you. You could almost see all of it. You could almost see all of the things you hadn’t allowed yourself to want.
The arena erupted, fans were yelling so loudly you swore your ears were going to be rining for days. You’d even lost your own voice sometime during the second period. You spent the whole game engaging with everyone in the arena. You hadn’t experienced energy like that in years. You were almost willing to bet that you felt the same level of adrenaline as the team did. Honestly, you’d probably be just as amped up as Carter when you got home.
“He did it,” Ethan marveled over the roar of the arena, “He fucking did it.”
Kora nearly jumped on your shoulders, “My best friend is dating a goal god!”
You were in a state of shock right up until the time you saw Carter after the game. Then it was like everything kicked into high gear and you ran to him, you even jumped so he had to catch you. A couple other members of the team whistled jokingly as you kissed him.
“You did so good.”
Maybe it was the bit of alcohol in your system, or the adrenaline from the game. But you seemed to forget every little problem you had. You forgot about Zachary, and the impossible decision that lurked there. Or the fact that you still had to pick who you were going to spend the summer with, if anyone. You forgot about all of it. All you wanted to do was be with all of them.
“Damn you look good tonight,” Carter joked, tugging on his jersey.
“We should go out. All of us,” You told Carter excitedly, “Like go get drinks or something.”
“You want to go out?” Carter asked, surprised that you were the one to even bring it up.
“I feel like dancing and having fun. Finals are over, you just fucking owned the net. C’mon, please?”
“Hartsy take the girl out,” Kevin Hayes chirped.
Carter smiled and kissed you again, “Well, let’s go out then.”
So that's what you did. All of you filed into some club that Travis knew about. You weren’t really dressed for it, although you did have a nice top on under the jersey, but you didn’t care. Not as the music seemed to fill your soul as you held onto Carter. He laughed and danced with you, both of you seeming to forget everything.
Ethan watched as you let go. He and Travis just looked at each other and smiled. Neither of them had seen this side of you since you were in high school, before Zachary broke so much of you. Ethan felt himself relax the more you seemed to smile and come alive. Kora soon pulled Ethan and Travis both onto the dance floor, insisting that all of you be together.
Hours later, so late in fact that you were pretty sure it was morning, you and Carter were slowly making your way towards his building. Ethan, Kora, and Travis all split off a while ago so they could go back to Travis’ place. You were still so giddy, happily talking off Carter’s ear.
He felt a sort of warmth in his chest. This was the person Trvais and Nolan talked about. He was finally able to see the you that Travis told him about for years, the you that was free. He wished he could’ve met her sooner.
“I want to go back with you,” You told him suddenly.
“Huh?” he wasn’t entirely sure how you’d gone from talking about wanting a breakfast beagle from the diner off campus, that certainly wasn’t open this time of the morning, to wanting to go somewhere else with him. His brain was hazy, both from the alcohol and everything else that happened.
“To Canada, if the offer still stands?”
You stopped walking and turned to face him. When you really stopped to think about it earlier in the night you realized that there wasn’t any other place you wanted to be. You’d be safe with him in Canada, you would finally be able to fully love him there. Nothing would stand in your way. It would just be you and Carter. Everything would be okay.
“God I love you,” He whispered before leaning down to kiss you, “Of course the offer still stands.”
“Good,” You pulled at his neck so he would kiss you again.
You really didn’t care that you were in the middle of a dark sidewalk in the middle of the night. You couldn’t even pay attention to the cold that was slowly working its way into your bones. Because all you could think about was his lips on yours, and the summer that now awaited you. All you wanted was that. You just wanted him.
“Now Doll, this isn’t part of the game,” You couldn’t pull away from Carter fast enough to find the source of the voice. But you already knew. You wanted to warn Carter to run, to get away. But there was a loud sound that made your ears ring again, but in a different way from the arena. And then...there was just nothing.
#Carter hart#carter hart imagine#Carter hart imagines#Carter hart fanfic#Carter hart fanfiction#nhl imagines#nhl imagine#nhl fanfiction#nhl fanfic#hockey imagine#hockey imagines#hockey fanfic#hockey fanfiction#Philly flyers imagine#Philly flyers imagines#flyers imagines#flyers imagine#nicolewritesthings
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By My Side (Part 7)
Summary: Jensen hires a team to help watch over the reader after the events of the night before but his suspicions are high and that might not have been the smartest move on his part...
Masterlist
Pairing: Bodyguard!Jensen x reader
Word Count: 3,700ish
Warnings: language, angst, minor violence
A/N: Enjoy!
_________
Four Hours Later
“Hi,” you said, sat on the end of your bed as Jensen quietly walked inside and closed the door after himself. “Is your shoulder-”
“I gave you a direct order. I know you heard me. I know you purposefully ignored me. I-”
“You were losing.”
“It doesn’t matter if I’m losing the fight, if I’m winning it, you get your ass away from the fight.”
“I was okay though. I-”
“Damnit Y/N!” he shouted. You went quiet, Jensen’s chest puffed out, his hands on his hips. “You promised you would listen to me. You promised.”
“I did listen. I-”
“If I can’t trust you to listen to me, then you’re a risk to the both of us. I will stay on as your bodyguard until I can find a suitable replacement.”
“What?”
“I’m giving my notice. We’re done.”
You stared at him and he narrowed his eyes.
“Oh don’t you-”
“I saved your fucking life!” you said, standing and poking him in the chest.
“I told you to run!” he shouted. You got in his face, brushing your nose against his. “You little...I told-”
“He wasn’t after me,” you said. You backed off as you rubbed the back of your head. “Me he wanted out of the way. He wanted you, didn’t he.”
Jensen bit his bottom lip and looked away but you grabbed his jaw and forced him to look at you.
“Why?”
“Word is out about your bodyguard boyfriend. You have money. I’m ransom money to some people.”
“You’re a shitty liar yourself, Jensen,” you said. You walked away from him and went out to your private balcony overlooking the pool. The door opened after a moment and you crossed your arms, leaning against the railing. A hand ran over your head and tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. “You can’t quit. Why did that person want you?”
“Truthfully, they probably wanted the both of us. I was the bigger threat so the guy went after me first. Next time it won’t just be one guy. Whoever is behind all of this will fork over more money for a team. You need your own team to stop that.”
“Why both of us?”
“I’m a soft spot of yours. Next time though they won’t try to take me probably. They’ll kill me outright. I’m too much hassle to try and deal with.”
“Someone wants to hurt me then?”
“I think a few things but I can’t know for sure. I think your life isn’t in danger. Your safety and the circumstances in which you live the rest of your life are but no, this person doesn’t want you dead. The gun didn’t come into play until you were clear of it. This person very much wants to be in my position.”
“My boyfriend?”
“Your protector. I’ll hire a team tomorrow. I know a guy that would be a good fit for your personal guard.”
“I thought I told you that you couldn’t quit.”
“I told you that when I say run, you run. You didn’t listen to me.”
“I’d make the same decision again.”
“Why?”
“Because he was hurting you and I’ve never been that angry in my life. Even the man that killed my father...maybe it’s because this was right in front of me but as long as I had the chance to help, I was going to help. Any bodyguard of mine is going to deal with that so get used to it.”
He leaned back against the railing, staring into the bedroom. He took a deep breath and rubbed his cut shoulder, sliding his hand over to your arm. He unfolded it and took your hand in his, giving it a squeeze.
“I would have liked to have met your father. It sounds like he raised an incredibly brave person like himself.”
“I run if you run too. I hide if you hide,” you said, turning your head. “New rules.”
“Alright. I still want a team. I have a feeling tomorrow night is going to be bad again.”
“I’m supposed to go to Gen’s baby shower,” you said.
“Do you want gun’s around your pregnant best friend?” he asked. You shook your head and he nodded. “They’ll need to reschedule anyways.”
“Why?”
“I need Jared on this with me and he won’t leave his wife and child. They-”
“Jensen. Leave them be. Jared needs to take care of his family. You’ll find a good team. We’ll just...take it one day at a time,” you said.
“You should get some sleep.” He pulled you gently backwards until you spun around and followed him inside. You crawled under the covers, Jensen dragging a chair you had over to your small desk.
“You’re not sleeping?”
“I need to work. I’ll sleep in the morning once I have a hire here to take over for me. You go ahead. I’ll keep an eye out.”
“Jensen,” you said as you lay down. He hummed and stopped the side of the bed before going off to get his laptop you assumed. “Make sure whoever you hires knows to keep an eye out for you too.”
“Yes mam,” he said softly. “Get some rest, honey.”
You woke up late the next day, Jensen passed out in his room when you trodded down the hall. There were five guys and a woman sitting at your dining room table, one of them standing as you gave a wave to them.
“Ms. Y/L/N. Good morning. I’m Brock Finley. I am your second in command and this is my team,” he said.
“I have two rules. Don’t drink all of my coffee and dudes, don’t leave the seat up and clean up after yourselves.”
“Yes, Mr. Ackles did go over your...requests earlier this morning,” said Brock.
“Walk with me, Mr. Finely,” you said, curling a finger. You walked him over to the kitchen, Brock reminding you a bit like Jensen when you first met him. “How do you know Jensen?”
“We served at the same time. I was injured on an operation with him, we recovered in the medical hospital in the same ward and grew to know one another.”
“Keep him safe,” you said. “As safe as me. I’m scared for him.”
“Mr. Ackles is in charge of-”
“I know. But keep him safe. Please.”
“We’ll do our best. The team’s been investigating possible leads and working with your manager to comb through any threats you may have received that seemed minor or even infatuations with you. I think Mr. Ackles is onto something with that track.”
“I honestly have no idea what’s going on anymore,” you laughed. “If you need anything from me, let me know. I plan on staying home today. My step-brother will dropping by shortly.”
“In the future please let us know in advance when guests will be…” he said as he saw the look on your face. “I’m going to return to work. There’s a team of eighteen on the premise, nineteen including Mr. Ackles. Don’t be alarmed if you see people outside.”
“Good to know,” you said, shaking your head as he left. “Eighteen? Really Jensen? I’m barely a B list actor on a good day.”
The doorbell rang and you caught the clock, nearly noon as you groaned. You rushed over and pulled it open, Nick standing there with a very confused look on his face and backpack over his shoulders.
“Hey,” you said as you let him inside.
“Nice SWAT team. Something going on?” he asked.
“Let’s go swimming. Better to talk there.”
“Wow,” said Nick twenty minutes later after you’d told him everything that had happened recently.
“Yup. I didn’t call you to come over cause of that though. I was...I’m nervous that with everyone moving out here you’re gonna be alone back home and it...scares me when...Jensen said something about us loving each other even if we don’t like one another and I think he had a point. I don’t want you to go to a dark place again Nick.”
“Y/N, could you slow down for a second? I know you move at a faster pace than most of us but I’m still on the fact you shot a gun last night. The chick that cried that time she thought she hit a squirrel in the road and she didn’t.”
“Oh. Sorry,” you said. You sat on the steps in the shallow end, Nick wading over and joining you. He sat back and played with the water in front of him for a moment before he let out a deep sigh.
“I like you, Y/N. Michael and I both do. We love you.”
“Why are you two so mean all the time then? It’s not teasing. It’s mean.”
“Cause you’re dad’s favorite. We know it. He never hid it from us. When we needed him, he was always with you and your mom. We think of her as our mom now and you our little sister but god we needed him and we were left on our own. You were an easy target to make us feel more in control. Instead of bonding with you, someone who understood exactly what we felt, we took advantage and we never bothered to stop. You were tough and could take it and we’re assholes. I’m sorry. The only reason I’m alive is because of you. You got me help. You still pay for my therapy. Shit I call you in the middle of the night and you pick up every time and just listen to me. You’re always going to be a better person than I am, Y/N. I suck at saying it but I’ve always been grateful to have you as my sister.”
“Could have just said that in the first place,” you said, wiping your face with the back of your hand for a second. “Come out here, Nick. You’d put my mind at rest.”
“I was never coming,” he said with a smile. “I sort of have a place already lined up back home with a roommate.”
“Yeah but I’m sure…” you said, catching the look on his face. “Oh. A roommate. Oh. Oh.”
“Yeah, hi, I’m bi in case you weren’t aware,” he chuckled. “Michael’s known since we were teenagers but I swore him to secrecy.”
“If we’re gonna have secrets, can we at least just keep them from the parents from now on?” you asked.
“Yeah, I’d like that,” said Nick. “Seriously don’t know you how didn’t catch on that I hang out with my best friend like all the time. Like all the time. And I sleep at his apartment all the-”
“I get it,” you said, Nick smiling. “He good to you?”
“Yeah. You don’t have to worry so much. You’re not the only one watching out for me,” he said. “But you though...what are you involved in?”
“I don’t know,” you said. “Last night got way too close for...say that again.”
“What are you involved in?” he asked.
“Nick, can you do me a favor, like a monumentally huge favor and not tell anyone else about what I said. This is gonna be over tonight anyways.”
“What’s going on?” he asked as you stood.
“I know who wants to kidnap me.”
“Who?”
“My old manager of course. Can you keep everybody away from here the rest of the day? I have a feeling this is going to be messy.”
“She has a point,” said Jensen, half dressed ten minutes later as you spoke to him and Brock, the floor still a bit wet from where Nick had walked out the front door to head back to the hotel. “She did ruin his career.”
“But why escalate?”
“He wants money and his career back...and she is smarter than both of us put together,” said Jensen as it clicked for him.
“You got it?” you asked as he nodded.
“Involved Inn. It’s the firm your manager used to work with. It’s the firm your current manager works with.”
“Inside man,” said Brock. “How’d he know you’d hire him?”
“He knows the kind of person I like to work with and he was smart enough to research Jensen and know that a military background wouldn’t hurt.”
“Oh fuck,” said Jensen, his face going white.
“What?” you asked. He swallowed as he looked around, putting his hand on his holster and pulling out his gun. He undid the clip and showed you that it was empty. “Don’t you need bullets in that?”
“There were bullets,” said Jensen, grabbing your hand and pulling you away from Brock. “Finely Associates. They’re hooked up with Involved Inn. Very, very closely involved.”
“You chose the absolute worst possible group of people to hire you know,” said Brock. Jensen walked backwards with you into the living area, the both of you catching sight of the various guards around. “Two against eighteen is not very good odds.”
“Let me talk to your boss, we can-” you said.
“Kid was unknowingly in on it. Didn’t think his old mentor would screw him over like that,” said Brock. “So here’s how it goes. We-“
“This doesn’t add up. People don’t admit to shit in real life like that. No one’s forcing you to say a thing. This is a paycheck for you. No, something else is going on. You just want us to think it was my old manager, don’t you?” you said. Brock tilted his chin up and you crossed your arms. “You knew Jensen would hire your team and we’d make a connection. So here’s how it really goes. I guarantee I got more money than whatever you’re being paid. You drop this little charade, I pay you, and we get down to the issue of who hired you.”
“Mr. Ackles hired us.”
“You know what I mean. Who-”
“Mr. Ack-”
“I didn’t hire you to do this,” said Jensen. “I said...you got a second phone call, didn’t you. One saying you wanted to perform a live test, didn’t you.”
Brock was silent and Jensen made a face.
“Tell me the truth or you’re all fired and being brought up on charges immediately,” said Jensen. Brock looked nervous for the first time and you pouted.
“You said-”
“Dammit, Finley. You’re all fired. Leave. Now.”
“But sir you said-”
“I hired you to protect her, not play games. All of you, get the fuck out.”
Brock nodded and the team all left, Jensen getting in Brock’s face.
“You are always so gullible. Always. It’s what landed your ass in that hospital. You never verify information. Just go in head first. I-” said Jensen, Brock’s jaw clenching.
“At least my whole unit wasn’t corrupt behind my back! At least I didn’t wind up living in a hole in the ground for weeks because I was too stupid to see-”
“Get the fuck out of my house.” Jensen’s whole body was tense as Brock left, his hands clenched by his sides. The house was eerily still, the only sound was Jensen’s harsh breathing.
After a moment he calmed and turned around, looking you up and down.
“I’m sorry. I thought Brock was smarter than falling for a fake phone call.”
“What exactly just happened?” you asked.
“Whoever wants you set up a fake drill, a test of sorts. Normally we would run one with the participants knowledge or give them a heads up in order to find vulnerabilities in a protection detail. What just happened was to mess with you and for this guy to say he’s smarter than us. It scares me because he probably is and he’s miles ahead of us. I don’t know how to keep you safe by myself, Y/N and I sure as shit don’t know who I can trust.”
“Your old unit, the good ones, call them. They’ll help you.”
“They’re all over the country.”
“You call them and I will get them out here. I will give them whatever they want. Private jets are a thing you know.”
“Y/N-”
“We need help. Let’s get help.”
“I’m sorry I’m so horrible at my job.”
“If you were horrible at your job I’d be in some basement right now. We’ll get through this and then just you and me can go on a trip away, just the two of us,” you said. He looked down and you padded over, taking his hand. “Okay?”
“I can’t stop everything,” he said. “This guy is smarter than anyone I’ve dealt with before, way smarter.”
“Then we call in for backup. We got this. I promise.”
Later That Evening
“Jared,” you said as he walked in the front door with a hum. “Jared Padalecki. What the hell are you-”
“Don’t even start with me,” he said, shutting the door after himself. You opened your mouth but he simply adjusted the bag over his shoulder. “Gen and Tom are safe and you need all hands on deck and frankly I was coming whether you liked it or not.”
“Jared-” you said as he walked past and into the living room.
“I’m here. Get over it,” he said before putting on a smile. “Hey guys. I swear you got uglier, Benny.”
“Must be from looking at you,” said Benny before he stood and gave Jared a hug. You hung back at the kitchen island, quietly listening to the eight of them talk and catch up before Jensen was standing and going over what had happened lately. You got a bit lost once they started talking in technical terms but suddenly they were breaking and everybody was grabbing their bags.
“How you holding up?” asked Jensen when he took a seat beside you.
“Nervous,” you said. “Tonight’s gonna be bad, isn’t it.”
“Hopefully not,” said Jensen as a redheaded woman went over to your fridge and grabbed a can of beer. “Y/N, this is Charlie. She was in charge of tech and surveillance for us back in the day. She works for google now, right?”
“That’s so three jobs ago,” she said with a smile. “She’s cute.”
“Thanks,” you said, Jensen rolling his eyes. “Oh, you’re…”
“Jensen ever bores you, give me a call,” she said with a wink. You swallowed and she laughed, Jensen chuckling to himself. “I’m joking. If I were into dudes I probably would be all over that myself.”
“You are not what I was expecting,” you said.
“Oh just cause we did secret stuff didn’t mean we were all sir yes sir.”
“Charlie was picked straight out of college for her...unique compter skills we’ll call it. If I could train this flailing hot mess, you’ll be just fine, honey. Charlie’s going to stay here with Ash as an attempted diversion. She’ll wear your clothes, Ash’ll wear mine. They’ll put on some wigs, we’ll see how that goes tonight.”
“Where are we going?”
“So this is an interesting hiding spot,” you said, squatted down in your next door neighbors kitchen twenty minutes later. “Thanks again Doug, I really appreciate it, even if I don’t get what’s going on yet.”
“It’s no problem, kid. The girls are on the road with their mother for the week so perfect timing,” he said. Jensen paced back and forth by the window in the dark house, not that you had much of a view of your own from over there. “Mind if I ask why you two trust me of all people?”
“Because you were halfway through kicking that paparazzi’s ass by the time I even showed up,” said Jensen, glancing over his shoulder. “You don’t want someone hurting your kids. It’s not a big leap to you keeping a watchful eye on your young neighbor just in case.”
“What are you expecting to learn from all this though. Aren’t you just going to get the team at best and not the guy?” asked Doug.
“Team could lead us to answers.”
“You know that won’t work. You’re trying to keep your head above water at this point, aren’t you,” he said.
“Yeah, Doug, I am,” said Jensen, snapping back quickly. “You have any genius ideas I’d love to hear them.”
“Y/N, when your show starts back up, would you mind letting the girls have a tour of set? They love it,” said Doug.
“Of course. If I’m still around that is,” you said. He smiled and glanced at his computer. “What?”
“I’m about to use up a huge favor that’s owed me. Glad I held onto it all these years,” he said. He took a seat behind his laptop and took out his phone.
“What are you doing?” asked Jensen.
“I’m going to ask for surveillance from last night, see if we can’t backtrack where that intruder originally came from.”
“You can do that?” you asked.
“It’s not easy but yeah, I can do that. I still have a few friends in the business. Let’s see if we can get you kids a break.”
_______
A/N: Read Part 8 here!
#spn#supernatural#jensen ackles#jensen ackles au#jensen ackles x reader#jensen ackles x you#au#bodyguard!AU#bodyguard!jensen#bodyguard!jensen x reader#spn fanfic#supernatural fanfiction
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Melone sick fic
for @dark-side-blog2 who could use some comfort right now <3
enjoy!
You woke up prematurely in the middle of the night by the soreness radiating off your chest. You groaned, pulling the covers of your sheets over your head, trying to will yourself back to sleep. Unfortunately, your body didn’t like that one bit, and you were shocked with red hot pain. You couldn’t help yelping out loud, the pain unexpected from your healing skin torn. You bit your lip, trying to hold back whimpers-all you wanted to do was get some sleep.
“Oh, Darling, you’re up already?” You hear your bedroom door open and a far too familiar voice calls out to you. You didn’t bother holding back your groan this time: Melone had let himself into your apartment again. Melone lived directly across from you in your apartment complex, and had been glued to you since day one. It didn’t matter whether you locked your door or not; he would let himself into your apartment, go through your belongings when he thought you weren’t looking, and introduce himself to your friends and house guests as your “lover”. What’s worse, he was starting to wear you down, to the point where you (would never openly admit) were starting to find him...charming, in his own way. You didn’t have romantic feelings or anything, you would swear up and down, but moving to a new town with no friends was surprisingly lonely, and to his credit, he’d helped you out a lot.
Right now, though? You didn’t want to see anyone, let alone the guy who tracked your period on his phone bothering you in your time of pain. Especially not on an area as sensitive as the underside of your breast; there was no telling what Melone would do.
“For the love of all that is good in this world-leave, Melone.” You hissed, peeking out from your sheets to glare at the intruder. Melone smiled, unperturbed, and walked over to your bedside.
“Good morning to you too, darling <3! I just came by to surprise you with breakfast in bed, and-” He stopped, his smile dropping as he got closer to you. “You’re bleeding.”
You looked down at your bed covers, and saw that indeed, you were bleeding enough to soak through to your bed sheets. “Holy shit!” you whisper to yourself, as Melone rushes over and removes the blankets.
“Let me see,” He orders, not asks, as he pulls up your shirt to examine your wound. You squawk in indignation, yelling insults at him like “pervert” and “creep” to no avail. Melone is...more serious than you’ve ever seen him, to be honest. He’s laser focused on your wound, which you can now see is even more red and irritated than it was last night. The band-aid you had slapped over it was in bad shape as well, and seemed to almost melt into your skin, blistering and bleeding all over your shirt and sheets.
“It seems you had an allergic reaction to this band-aid, we’ll need to wrap this wound carefully in order for it to heal properly,” Melone said, more to himself than you, as he gently pushed you back onto your bed. “Excuse me for a moment, i’ll be right back,” He says, and like that, he’s out of your place. You blink, trying to process everything that’s happened, unsure of what you should do. By the time you’ve convinced yourself to get up and try to clean yourself off, and are halfway off your bed, when Melone barges back into your room, toting a slew of medical supplies and several other tools you can’t identify.
“Ah ah ah! Don’t move, Darling, you might tear the wounds more!” He reprimands you, tutting as he pushes you back onto the bed with unexpected strength. You huff, getting more and more annoyed by Melone, who has not only forced himself into your room but seen at least one of your tits at this point, and is forcing you to stay in bed. Still…
To be fair, he clearly knows what he’s doing, as he cleans and wraps your wound with doctoral precision, and has made no advances or inappropriate comments about your conditions. In fact, now that he’s come over, you feel a whole lot better. The stinging has stopped, and you’re able to move comfortably after he’s done wrapping your wound. He also takes your bed sheets off of your bed and puts them in the laundry for you, helps you to the bathroom to clean yourself up and change. If you didn’t know any better, you would say the Melone you know and tolerate has been replaced by a certified nurse. When you come out of the bathroom, clean and refreshed, he’s replaced your sheets with new ones (they must be his, they’re an unfamiliar color and smell like cologne) and he ushers you to get back into bed.
“From what I could tell, the original wound was due to your bra’s underwire poking out of your bra and piercing your skin, correct? We’ll have to dispose of it, as it’s no longer safe to wear. Also, I think it would be best if you were to get an allergy test when you’re feeling better, to help determine what specifically you’re allergic to, so this can be prevented in the future. In the meantime, rest and relaxation is the best way for you to heal right now.” Flabbergasted, you simply nod and get into bed, still so confused by Melone’s, for lack of a better word, professionalism.
For the rest of the day, Melone does nothing but dote on you. While he does occasionally slip into his more familiar perverted ways, for the most part he’s very polite and comforting. He has some sleeping pills and low grade pain medication for you to take (maybe you shouldn’t trust Melone with pills, but with the way he’s been today you give him the benefit of the doubt) brings you your meals on a tray in bed, and even lets you nap and surf the internet in peace. Aside from an offer for a foot massage, which you do know by now to turn down, your day has been quite nice actually, and you have Melone to thank for that.
Later in the evening, before you’re about to go to bed, Melone checks your injury and redresses your bandages one last time.
“You’re looking much better now, darling, I'm guessing you should be good to go tomorrow, and fully healed in a day or two.” He tells you happily, patting you on the shoulder. He turns to leave, only for you to tug on his sleeve and pull him back. Both Melone and you are shocked-why are you doing this?
“Was there something you needed, darling?” Melone asks, looking at you intently. You bite the inside of your cheek, trying to find the right words for what you want to say. It’s just… Melone’s been so kind to you today, and helped you out when you were going through a hard time. He took care of you, kept you company when you wanted, and left you alone when you needed space. To be honest, it was really nice having him here today. You wouldn’t mind having more days like this, you know, as long as he behaves himself.
“These bedsheets...they’re yours, right?” You mutter, just loud enough for Melone to hear.
“Yes, Darling, but don’t worry, they’re clean!” He answers.
“Then...you don’t have any blankets on your bed right now, right?” You continue, unable to look him in the eyes.
Melone smiles, “Oh, don’t worry Darling, i’ll be fine-”
“Sleep with me tonight.” You interrupt him, cheeks on fire. Melone gaps like a fish, trying to process what you just said.
You clarify, “I mean, just so you can stay warm. And it’s just for tonight, since my sheets are still wet. So, like, this is the only fair option, right??” you finish lamely, clutching Melone’s sheets tightly in your hands. Melone takes a moment to clear his head and respond.
“Well, if you insist darling<3” He grins. You aren’t even looking at him, you’re too embarrassed to, but you can hear the grin in his voice. He carefully crawls into your bed on the other side, giving you ample space but still turned towards you.
“Goodnight, Darling. I hope you sleep well,” He whispers, smiling at you. You turn off the lights, cheeks hot, but not comfortable enough to fall asleep yet. After fiddling with your pillows and swallowing your pride, you inch yourself closer and closer to Melone, finding comfort in the warmth of his body heat. His eyes are closed, and he looks so peaceful, but you can feel him wrap an arm around you. You don’t push him away.
“Goodnight, Melone” You whisper, and fall asleep.
#fic#sluttbuttsstuff#sick fic#melone#melonexreader#yandere#yandere!melone#reader#hurt comfort#no major warnings apply
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the trouble with wanting (is i want you) - upstead two-shot
Hey guys! Back with something I started back in April when the season was cut short and Hailey was last seen in NYC. I just now got around to finishing it (finally!) and it has turned into two parts so be on the lookout for chapter two in the near future!
It’s no ‘Heartbeat on the Highline’ by @fromiftowhen (which you should read if you haven’t), but it’s a juicy little New York scenario that I have had a lot of fun with!
I also have to give a huge huge shoutout to @mashleighh for always being there to scream over upstead and fanfiction! Thanks for all the help and being a great listener, friend!
I hope you enjoy and let me know what you think!
Read on AO3
Five weeks. That’s how long Hailey has been gone.
It’s been five weeks since she’d shown up at his door at midnight to stiffly tell him she was going to New York to help out the FBI for a couple of weeks.
It was only for a couple of weeks. That’s what she’d told him.
He would be lying if he said that when Hailey told him she was leaving that his heart didn’t stop in his chest. And that when two weeks turned into three then four and then five, he didn’t feel like he’d been punched in the stomach? Well, he’d be lying then too.
Because the truth is, he feels like he’s been holding his breath ever since she’d stepped out of his house that night.
And despite her assurances that she’d be back as soon as the FBI would let her, he still couldn’t shake the nagging thoughts of maybe she would like it better in New York. That she did, in fact, like how the feds did things. That she did like the extra pay and the nice suits after all.
But when she’d called him a few nights ago and told him she was absolutely sure that she was on her last case with the FBI and would be home as soon as she was finished, he couldn’t seem to wipe the permanent grin off his face and the feeling of utter relief.
He isn’t going acknowledge how much longer the past few days have seemed; even longer than they did before, or the little voice in the back of his mind telling him that she still had time to decide to stay in New York because he knew she was good police—the best, and he knew Platt was right.
The feds did have a way of holding onto good people.
He doesn’t know what he would do if he lost Hailey to New York.
In the few weeks that Hailey’s been gone, he has come to realize exactly how much he relies on her, how much he craves for her presence and not only at work, when he’s off duty too. It took her being gone for him to understand how much she filled his every day.
His heart aches when he walks into the bullpen to see her chair empty, pushed under her desk with no coat hanging from the back. He feels strange only ordering one coffee instead of two and he doesn’t like how lonely it is in his truck without her in the passenger seat.
When he’s doing his paperwork, he looks up and expects to find blue eyes that aren’t there, and he feels cold sitting on her desk without her comforting presence beside him.
And he doesn’t much like the way Rojas keeps looking at him with knowing eyes ever since Hailey left and the officer filled her spot as his temporary partner. She’s quick on her feet and she provides him with sufficient backup, but it just isn’t the same. It isn’t Hailey.
He feels like a piece of him is missing. The piece that knows what he’s thinking without words. The piece that understands him with a single look. The solid feel of her right there next to him, watching his back literally and figuratively.
A few times he’d found himself driving towards her house to see if she wanted a drink or to watch some TV only to remember she wasn’t there.
She’s in New York. With the FBI.
And God, did he miss her.
*
When Jay woke that morning, something just hadn’t felt right. Things just felt off. It was the same feeling he’d gotten hundreds of times before; in Afghanistan, in Chicago, before shootouts and raids that didn’t go exactly according to plan.
He had that feeling that something bad had happened or was about to and he just couldn’t seem to shake it even though everything seemed normal.
But his skin still felt prickly and the hairs were still standing up on the back of neck and he still heard that little voice in the back of his head whispering that something wasn’t quite right.
He pushed it to the back of his mind as he went through his morning routine of running, working out and showering, hoping that it would go away before he got to work.
When he got to the district, nothing seemed amiss. Trudy was there to greet him with her usual no-nonsense attitude and a stack of paperwork, and his friends called out cheery ‘good morning’s’ as he walked into the bullpen. Adam had just gotten there too, slapping Jay on the back as a way to say ‘hello’ before they each joined the others at their respective desks to fill out paperwork from the case they’d finished the day before and Voight was holed away in his office as usual.
The only thing that was out of place was the empty chair across from him, missing the bright smile and sparkling blue eyes.
Sighing, Jay pulled out his chair, dropping the stack of paperwork on his desk as he sat down, reaching for one of Hailey’s pens because his were always missing. He was about half a page through his report when that bad feeling flared up again, Voight coming out of his office with a hint of worry on his face.
He wouldn’t have been able to tell that something was off if he didn’t know Voight so well or if he hadn’t been hyper-aware of everything this morning. That and the fact Voight stood at the head of the room, silently waiting till everyone’s attention was on him with his hands in his pockets and that look on his face. The one that said something was wrong.
Everyone pretty much immediately picked up on the change of atmosphere; the once comfortable silence turning into a tense one with alarmed looks quickly being shared.
Jay was about to say something when Kim beat him to it, “What’s wrong, sarge?”
“I just got a call from New York.”
Jay’s stomach dropped and his heart felt like it was going to beat out of his chest. He couldn’t breathe.
No. This couldn’t be happening.
Voight glanced at him before addressing Intelligence as a whole, “It’s Hailey. She got hurt last night during an undercover assignment. She’s in the hospital.”
Blood was rushing through his ears and Jay felt like he was about to pass out.
Hailey was hurt. She was in the hospital. And he wasn’t there.
When Jay remembered to breathe, he felt like he was on the verge of hyperventilating.
He’d known something like this was going to happen. It was his job to protect her and he wasn’t there. He never should have let her go without him because if he had been there, he would’ve never let her get hurt.
She was his partner.
He clenched his fists, anger filling him alongside the worry and panic. Anger at whoever the hell was supposed to be looking out for her because they obviously hadn’t done a very good job.
How could anyone be so careless with her safety?
In the back of his mind, Jay knew that it probably wasn’t anyone’s fault. He knew better than most that getting injured on the job was just par the course, but he still couldn’t help the icy fear that gripped him and the need to blame someone and the feeling that she wouldn’t be hurt if he had been there.
Because if anything ever happened to her… He would never forgive himself.
“Hurt? What does that mean?” It was Vanessa’s slightly distressed voice speaking up that broke him out of the trance he’d been in.
Jay’s eyes quickly snapped to Voight’s face. His boss shook his head in uncharacteristic concern, “I don’t know. I didn’t get the details. Whoever called didn’t know, just that she was in the hospital, but I’ve got calls in with the Special Agent in Charge of the field team Hailey’s with. I’ll find out.”
He met all their worried gazes, “But in the meantime,” Voight turned to Jay, pausing, “I want you on the next plane out of here going to New York.”
He didn’t have to tell him twice. Jay was already standing up and grabbing his coat, fully intending to go straight to the airport when Voight caught his gaze again, a slightly strange expression on his face.
A protective look that Jay didn’t entirely understand passed between them.
“Go get our girl. Bring her home.”
*
“Jay?” Vanessa hesitantly poked her head around the corner of the row of lockers.
He looked up from where he was shoveling random clothes he happened to have in his locker into a duffel bag. He had no intentions of going back to his apartment because Platt was working on getting him on the next flight into JFK and he didn’t want to risk missing the plane.
“She’s gonna be okay. You know that, right?” Vanessa’s voice was small and vulnerable in a way that reminded Jay just how new she was to the life of being a cop. Especially a cop in Chicago; in Intelligence.
But this didn’t happen in Chicago. And it didn’t happen while she was working in Intelligence. Hailey got hurt in New York working with the FBI; Without them. Without him.
She was alone and that thought by itself was enough to make Jay panic because as tough as he knew Hailey was, he knew she didn’t like being vulnerable in front of others. Especially people she didn’t know.
“Yeah, of course. I know that.” It was more clipped than he’d wanted to sound. His voice was strained even to his own ears and he knew he wasn’t convincing either of them.
Because the truth was, they didn’t know if it was going to be okay. They had no idea exactly how injured she was. Who knew? Jay might be in New York for quite a while depending on her injuries.
Or very little time. Long enough for arrangements to be made.
Jay blinked, shaking that thought out of his head as quick as he could. He forced himself to control his breathing and he could feel Vanessa’s eyes on him. That same gaze she’d had ever since Hailey left.
He refrained from snapping at her because she knew he was just as worried as he was. Hailey was her friend, and he wagered the closest thing she had to a sister so he went about his business, shoving random things he might need into his bag.
“You love her, don’t you?” Her words stopped him in his tracks.
He worked his throat; his heart picking up speed. He looked at her, “Of course I love her. She’s my partner.”
An odd little grin sprung onto Vanessa’s face and if Jay hadn’t been so panicked about Hailey, he might have asked why she was looking at him like that. That, and the fact that Trudy just appeared in the doorway behind Rojas.
“You’re on the 10:15 flight out of O’Hare so you’d better get a move on,” Her face was set in her usual stoic mask, but Jay could detect just a hint of worry hiding behind the older woman’s eyes as she held out his printed plane ticket.
Jay reached for it before grabbing a few more things to shove in his duffel, zipping it up and throwing it over his shoulder. Platt and Vanessa moved out of the doorway so he could get by.
Platt grabbed his hand, catching his eyes in a steadfast gaze, “Jay.”
Jay swallowed hard at the rare emotions swimming in the older woman’s gaze, “Call us, okay.”
Giving a firm nod, Jay squeezed Trudy’s hand before quickly turning to practically sprint down the hallway, disappearing around the corner.
Vanessa and Trudy stood there for a few long seconds looking in the direction Jay had gone. There was a quiet sniff and Platt glanced over to the young officer standing beside her with tears in her eyes.
The Sargent placed an arm around the girl’s shoulders for a quick second, “Hailey’s strong. She’ll get through it, whatever it is. And she has Jay. She’ll be fine.”
*
The plane ride was torturous.
Gut-wrenching fear consumed him, his thoughts running through every scenario he could think of.
Had she been shot? Or was it another on-the-job related injury?
If she had been shot, then where?
Did she need surgery? Was she in surgery now?
Was she scared? Was she in pain? Was she lonely?
Did she need him? Did she want him?
Vanessa’s words took over his thoughts, echoing over and over in his head.
You love her, don’t you?
You love her…
You love her.
He loves her.
Of course, he loves her. All he cares about is her.
And somewhere along the line, he’s fallen in love with her. Somewhere between longing glances, tugging heartstrings and flying bullets.
He’s been in love with her for over a year now, but he hadn’t truly realized it until now.
Not until she’d left him. Not until she’d gotten hurt and he was eight hundred miles away. Not until Vanessa Rojas looked him straight into the eyes and voiced an irrevocable truth he had been scared of.
And now, he might be too late.
What if she dies? What if she’d already died?
He muffled a sob and his leg bounced even harder much to the consternation of the lady beside him, but he didn’t care. He didn’t even notice the strange look that she sent his way.
Because all he cared about was Hailey, and the very real possibility that he could lose her before he even had a chance to have her consumed his thoughts.
How could he have been so stupid? Why had he let his fears get in the way of him telling her how he felt when it was clear that she reciprocated the feelings at least to a point.
He’d noticed the way she had become clingier after he’d gotten shot. And when he’d gotten better, how brightly she beamed at him.
He hadn’t wanted to read too much into it or get his hopes up, but those fears seemed silly now when death was on the line.
When life was so fragile, especially in their line of work.
His heart pounded in his chest and he literally felt sick with worry as he hung his head, clenched his sweaty fists and prayed as hard as he could.
Please let her be okay.
I love her.
I need her.
I can’t live without her.
*
As soon as the plane touched down, Jay was practically jumping out of his seat and squeezing by the person sitting next to him before grabbing his duffle that he’d shoved in the overhead storage. He used his badge to bypass the deboarding procedure, practically running down the gangway as soon as it was connected to the plane.
Voight had texted him the name of the hospital Hailey was at right before he’d boarded, but that was the only thing he had managed to find out so far.
And that was what was so agonizing. The not knowing.
Part of him wanted to know exactly what he was walking into, but the other part of him was scared to find out because then he wouldn’t be able to pretend it wasn’t that bad if he found out otherwise.
But then his brain would manifest all of these terrifying scenarios and images and he thinks nothing could be worse than what he was imagining.
It was a never-ending cycle of panic that wouldn’t end until he knew Hailey’s condition. And even then, it might not be ending for a while.
Jay pushed a few bills at the taxi driver, sliding out of the backseat with an urgency that could rival most New Yorkers. Shouldering his duffle, he forced himself to walk calmly into the hospital and up to the front desk.
“What room is Hailey Upton in?” He didn’t mean to sound so abrupt, but he couldn’t waste a single second. Not when he was so close to seeing her.
The lady at the desk didn’t seem to be bothered by it though, probably used to worried family members demanding to know where their loved ones were.
In fact, she smiled at him kindly if not a little sympathetically and he briefly wondered if he looked as harried as he felt.
“Let me see here,” She trailed off, her fingers clacking at the keyboard as she focused her attention on the screen in front of her.
Jay refrained from tapping his fingers on the desk even though he desperately wanted too, his fingers twitching for something to do.
A rifle in his hands or Hailey by his side; the two things that calmed him down the most effectively.
“She’s in room 308,” The words were barely out of her mouth before Jay tossed a breathy ‘thank you’ over his shoulder, following the signs pointing him in the direction of the stairs. He slammed into the push-door, bounding up the stairs three at a time.
The erratic beating of his heart had nothing to do with exerting himself, but with the thought of what he might find when he got to room 308. He was running now, passing a couple of nurse’s stations till he found the hospital rooms. His eyes scanned the room numbers, finding 308 and his breath was knocked right out of his chest.
Because there she was. And it was the most beautiful sight in the world.
The curtain was pushed to the side so he could clearly see into her room. She was sitting up in the bed, her face was a little pale and her hair looked a little disheveled, but none of that mattered.
All that mattered was that she was alive. Awake. Talking. And it didn’t matter that she was in a hospital bed, hooked up to various machines. She was still the most gorgeous thing he’s ever seen.
There were a few people in standing in the room, talking to her and Jay assumed they were part of the FBI team she’d been working with, but the only person he had eyes for was Hailey.
After letting the initial relief course through his body at the sight of Hailey sitting up, Jay snapped out of it, taking long strides towards her room.
He was in the sliding glass door frame before anyone noticed him. Hailey turned her head and they locked gazes. Jay felt tears spring into his eyes at the sight of her sparkling blue irises. He dropped his duffle, taking a few short steps to be at her bedside, “God, Hailey,” Was the only thing he managed to whisper.
He desperately wanted to scoop her up in his embrace, or maybe even kiss her, but he didn’t know the extent of her injuries and the last thing he wanted to do was hurt her, so he settled for rubbing a hand over his eyes.
Hailey blinked hard, wondering if she’d maybe hit her head last night or if the anesthesia was possibly making her hallucinate, but when she opened her eyes again, her partner who she hadn’t seen in over a month was still standing beside her, his face drawn with worry and relief.
She opened her mouth to say something, but the words got stuck in her throat when Jay met her gaze again, tears clearly swimming in his green eyes, “What happened, Hailey? When we got the word, we called and texted, but we didn’t know anything other than you got hurt last night.”
Hailey was still trying to wrap her head around the fact that Jay was here, in the flesh and standing beside her, his familiar presence comforting. She didn’t know how many times she’d craved for his warm, solid form beside her over her time in New York and even more so since last night and he was here.
Tears started pooling in her own eyes and she didn’t know if it was the fact that she’d just had a brush with death or if she’d just missed him so much or if it was all the drugs pumping through her veins, but she reached out to grab his elbow and tugged him closer to her as hard as she could even though OA, Emily and Kristen were watching.
Jay was clearly not expecting it, his arm automatically reaching out to brace himself on the bed so he didn’t fall on top of her, but Hailey didn’t care. She threw her arms around him, clutching onto his well-worn, black jacket desperately.
She hated hospitals as much as he did. The only difference was that she wasn’t a pain about it (or at least she tried very hard not to be).
But more than that, it had been five weeks. And she had missed him.
While that hadn’t been too surprising given her growing feelings towards him, she wasn’t entirely prepared for the unexpected shift in their relationship. Being gone had almost drawn them closer in a way with sleepy facetime calls and frequent texts that walked the very thin line of partners to something more.
The closer she got to being sent home the more she had been anticipating a warm reunion and a long overdue talk with Jay. A talk that she could sense Jay wanted to have in the subtle ways he let her know how much her being gone from him meant.
Hailey supposed it was true. Distance really does make the heart grow fonder.
But then she’d gotten hurt and she’d seen the scary possibility that she may never get to tell him how she feels flash before her eyes. That they may never have more than what they had been cultivating over her five week-long absence.
And then she’d woken up in a strange hospital with strange doctors and nurses and the wrong person at her side.
She didn’t think she’d ever wanted Jay as much as she had in those hazy drugged up moments and it wasn’t a lusty want. It wasn’t that at all. She wanted—no, she needed his comforting, sure presence beside her. It was like she didn’t know how to function, how to breathe, how to live without him and she’d almost had a panic attack as her foggy mind registered what had happened.
Promptly, she’d been given something to help her calm down that had put her to sleep before she’d had the chance to demand to see her phone so she could call Jay. She just needed to hear his voice, that was all.
When she’d woken back up for the second time, she felt much more in control of her facilities. She didn’t freak out at being in a hospital—one that was just as unfamiliar as the FBI office she’d been sent to. She forced herself to stay calm when she opened her eyes to find a team that she’d only met five weeks ago. And she forced herself not to show how desperately she needed her partner who was 800 miles away.
So, she’d smiled wanly as she pushed herself to sit up on the bed; OA, Kristen and Emily rushing to help her as she tried to hide a wince at the pain searing her torso. She’d even made a few jokes, playing off the fact that she felt like she was drowning because she was injured in a strange city, confined to a strange hospital and away from the people she loved.
But before she had a chance to ask if anyone had contacted her team or ask for her phone so she could call Jay—at least so she could feel like he was close to her, she’d looked up and he was there.
She’d never seen anything more beautiful.
And then she was hugging him, and she couldn’t care less that she was clutching onto him for dear life in front of OA, Kristen and Emily.
It was a shorter hug then either one of them really wanted but Hailey could feel her stitches pulling and she was having to breathe shallowly in order to avoid too much pain, so she pulled back. Her eyes instantly met green, overflowing with a number of emotions that made her already shallow breathing speed up.
Jay seemed to realize that there were other people in the hospital room at about the same time Hailey remembered a few members of her NYC team were still there.
He glanced between their slightly confused expressions and her a few times before he finally broke the awkward silence that was starting to descend upon the group, “What happened?”
Hailey could tell by the way he glanced in the direction of Emily, Kristen and OA (or more specifically OA) that he wasn’t too sure about their involvement and why they had let her land in the hospital. She gave him a look that told him it wasn’t their fault and after a brief battle of the eyes, he accepted it, but she could still detect a suspicious glint in his gaze.
“Nothing, really,” Hailey tried to smile convincingly enough to make Jay’s concerned expression disappear but when it didn’t, she added, “I’m fine. I promise.”
He was still staring her down when OA cleared his throat and Jay turned to him, slowly grasping OA’s outstretched hand in a firm handshake.
OA glanced at her before raising his eyebrows and addressing Jay as he withdrew his hand, “Uh, yeah. I wouldn’t say that she’s fine. She got shot last night and she literally just got out of surgery like an hour ago.”
Hailey frowned, shooting her temporary partner a look before meeting her actual partner’s openly distressed expression, “But I’m fine,” She stressed.
Jay shook his head, running a hand over his face, “Hailey, you scared the crap out of me.”
Not that she’d ever admit it, but her heart skipped a couple of beats at hearing that.
Recovering quickly, she fired back, “Well, now you know how it feels.”
Jay’s eyebrow furrowed as he frowned, “That’s not funny.”
“Maybe you’ll remember that the next time you go and get yourself shot,” Hailey responded smartly with a raised eyebrow.
Their eyes locked again, silently communicating as if they were the only two people in the world.
A throat clearing drew them out of the trance they’d fallen into, Hailey glancing over to a sheepish looking OA while Kristen and Emily traded a raised eyebrow.
“I’m OA and this,” He gestured to the girls standing beside him, “is Kristen and Emily.”
Hailey supposed that was her cue to introduce Jay so before he could do it himself, Hailey looked at her FBI team, nodding to the man that flew all the way from Chicago to be there, “This is Jay. My partner.”
Wow. She let that thought sink in. He flew all the way from Chicago just to see her. She felt tears prick her eyes and she wanted to just chalk it up to being overly tired and doped up on pain killers, but she knew it was more than that.
Turning her head so no one would notice her slightly wet eyes, she heard OA give Jay a warm greeting and he responded mostly in kind if not a little icy. She blinked a few times, returning her gaze to the people in her slightly crowded hospital room.
After a brief conversation of friendly banter, Kristen made a show of looking at her phone, “Looks like we’re needed back at HQ.”
OA nodded before looking between Hailey and Jay then settling his gaze on Hailey, “You get some rest, okay? We’ll talk later.”
She gave him a nod as Emily and Kristen made their way out of the small room, OA behind them and then suddenly, it was just her and Jay.
The room seemed even smaller somehow and had it always been this warm?
Slowly, she slid her gaze to the man standing beside her bed, not surprised to find his green eyes already trained on her. Green met blue and, in that moment, it felt like everything was right in the world again.
Because that ache for home, the longing in their souls; it’s funny how they were eight-hundred miles from their houses and yet it felt like they were finally coming home. That they were where they belonged.
Once again, unexpected tears pricked Hailey’s eyes and it hit her that she could have never seen him ever again. She could have died, and she would have never seen him looking at her with something that looked a lot like love.
She opened her mouth to say something. What, she didn’t know; how much she missed him while she was here, how when she’d gotten shot all she wanted was him, maybe even an ‘I love you’, but before any of that could leave her mouth, an enthusiastic nurse bustled through the door.
“Hi there, dear! My name’s Jeanie and I’ll be your nurse for the next little while,” The older lady chirped to Hailey in greeting, totally oblivious that she’d just interrupted a charged moment between the two detectives.
“How’s the pain level?” She continued brightly, messing with the computer in the corner of the room before turning her attention towards Hailey and that’s when she noticed Jay.
A mega-watt smile broke out on Jeanie’s face, “You must be the husband!” She declared cheerfully.
Hailey’s eyes went wide, and she tried not to choak on her own spit, expecting to hear Jay quickly correcting her, but he didn’t say anything. Before she could splutter out an interjection of her own, Jeanie turned her attention back to her.
The nurse gave her a wink and in a not so quiet whisper, she said, “What a hunk! If I weren’t so old, I’d jump his bones! What fun you two must have!”
She felt her cheeks flush at that, and she didn’t have to look to know that Jay’s ears were probably turning pink.
Jeanie opened her mouth to continue and Hailey wished that Jay would open his mouth to refute the claim he was her husband before the nurse had the chance to keep talking, but she wasn’t that lucky.
Giving her an impressed look, Jeanie nodded conspiratorially the grin still plastered on her face, “Well done for landing such a hottie.”
Hailey was starting to hope that a hole would open up and swallow her whole when there was a knock on the doorframe. Hailey’s head snapped towards the sound and was relieved to see a doctor entering the room, a tablet in hand.
“Detective Upton,” The man in surgical scrubs greeted her warmly. He noticed Jay and extended an arm to shake his hand before turning to address them both, “I’m Doctor Nunez.”
He looked at Jay, clearly waiting for an introduction. Hailey glanced over at him for the first time since Jeanie interrupted them.
She watched as he seemed to realize what Doctor Nunez was asking for, rubbing his hands on his jeans before answering, “My name’s Jay,” He paused, giving his head a little jerk in her direction, “I’m, uh…I’m her husband.”
Hailey blinked in shock. That was the last thing she thought he’d say.
She caught his gaze, giving him a ‘what the hell’ expression. He gave her a little shrug and looked almost as confused as she was as to why he went along with Jeanie’s assumption.
Dr. Nunez continued on, not noticing their silent exchange, “I performed your wife’s surgery, and I was hoping that we could discuss the extent of Detective Upton’s injuries with both of you and go over what I did to repair them.”
For the next half hour, Hailey and Jay listened to the doctor’s recount of removing the bullet that had lodged itself in Hailey’s side last night. The good news was that she would be discharged from the hospital in a couple of days, the bad news was that she was recommended not to fly for at least 8-10.
But for some reason, Hailey didn’t really mind the delay in getting back.
Yesterday, she was anxious and counting down the days till she could hop on a plane bound for Chicago. Today, sitting in a hospital bed, sore and tired from being shot, looking over at her partner who was hanging onto every word Dr. Nunez was saying about her recovery, she suddenly couldn’t care less about getting home.
Sure, she missed Chicago. She missed her apartment. And she missed her team, but that wasn’t what she’d been craving ever since landing in New York five weeks ago.
She’d been homesick, but not for a place because when she looked at Jay, she knew she was home even if she was still eight-hundred miles away from the only city she’d known.
Part two coming soon! Comment if you’d like a tag!
#Chicago PD#upstead#jay halstead#hailey upton#jay x hailey#hailey x jay#upstead fanfiction#upstead fic
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vulnerability. – chap. 3.
Story info:
Pair: Byun Baekhyun x Reader
Rating: +18 for mentions of s*x and violence (future chapters)
Genre: angst, smut
Chapter info:
Release date: 29th July 2021
Word count: 4 219
Warnings: none
Vulnerability Masterlist || Fanfiction Masterlist || Ko-Fi
Taglist:
@shesdreaminginoverdose @mybiasdashboard @marimsun @byuns-asscheeks @multi–kpop–fanfics @vunv @making-me-blush @skittlez-area512 @bloopbloopkai @byuns-asscheeks @baekyeonoreo @devotedexolnhottest @mingxia-nikki04 @velvetjongin @ssssssul (won't let me tag you T_T) @nemi-mei @buttercupbbh
Please, always comment on the newest chapter if you wish to be added to/removed from the taglist. I will be also checking the tags, so if you’re shy – feel free to leave a note this way.
Previous (Chap. 2.)
Chap. 3.
The tension that appeared the moment you received the phone call from Baekhyun did not dissolve with time. In fact, the opposite happened – it grew as the time passed, and as Saturday came closer and closer. Finally, once your Friday to Saturday night shift came to an end and you stumbled into your flat around 4 in the morning, you knew that you wouldn’t be able to fall asleep easily. Yet, you forced a whole cup of green tea into yourself in an attempt to soothe your nerves before sleep. Your alarm was set for noon, and you were supposed to meet at 3 PM.
You woke up feeling energized, but you knew this pattern all too well already – the tiredness would come and hit you with its whole power the day after, and you’d spend Sunday sluggish and drained. But that was okay, because Sunday didn’t matter half as much as Saturday did.
You felt a small urge to dress up; even more, actually, you felt a need to pay attention to details rather than looking fine at the first glance. Some common sense hyped up by years of watching other people and reading stories – a thorough shower, shaving, paying attention to not only what you wore outside, but also your undergarments. You lacked things that could be considered “sexy”, but – let’s face it – you didn’t think it mattered much; not after what you’d found out so far. Yet, it would be a shame if your panties had a hole in them. Wearing something neutral, but fresh was your best bet. Every few minutes, you kept reminding yourself – you don’t even know what will happen, you don’t even know if anything will happen at all. There was no reason to think that he’ll want you to undress in the first place, you said it yourself that you’re not ready for sex.
But then, it still helped you gather confidence that you definitely needed at a moment like that. Details allowed one less thing to worry about, and a better ability to focus on others, and so, you made sure the details were worked out well, and that you didn’t overdress, either; a beige shirt and jeans, all wrapped up with sneakers and another knitted cardigan of yours – neutral and polite, maybe a bit school-ish, but these were the things you mostly wore on daily basis, and you felt that going in the other direction – of tight pants, mini-skirts and see-through shirts – would not be appreciated. Your hair was pulled up into a loose bun, nothing like the ones you admired in YT tutorials, but the best you could do on your own. Maybe it was the age difference that made you feel obliged to show respect rather than expose yourself. You trusted your instinct on that, and so far, nothing happened yet to prove it wrong. The weather was starting to get warmer; these days were particularly sunny and dry, so you felt at ease without an extra jacket. It couldn’t get that bad in the evening, and you put faith in your cardigan.
Baekhyun must have thought similarly.
You stood in the bar’s entry, looking up at him for a moment; he leaned back into his usual couch, not aware of your presence just yet. He was wearing a black button-up and jeans as well, something he still looked pretty well put-together in, but not too formal – similar to your own thought process, noticeably.
You inhaled deeply, and took your time to exhale the air – until you felt ready to walk up to him.
“Hi there” he spoke as you approached his couch; as expected, he was there alone today.
“Hi there” you replied with a slight nod and a smile; your voice was quiet, as quiet as it could be without trembling in anticipation.
“You want to drink something before we go?”
You considered it for a second, and then nodded again. Baekhyun moved a bit to the side, encouraging you to join him on the couch, and you took the offer with gratitude.
“Beer? I don’t want to get you drunk, but we may sit here for a bit just to relax.”
“You can tell I need it?”
“Yes. I can tell. Your shoulders are very tense. May I?”
His hand reached to your shoulder and you nodded slightly, a bit unsure what you agreed to just yet.
He suddenly squeezed your muscle, and you whimpered. He kneaded it, and you found the tension dissolving gradually as he went on. Even with only one hand and unfavorable position, he managed to find some of the spots that required touch; that touch was welcome, slight pain coming along with it was desired for the best outcome. You didn’t notice when Baekhyun must have given the bartender some sort of a sign, but the man soon came with a beer and water that he put on the nearby table. That was when Baekhyun’s movement slowly ceased, cautiously letting go of your shoulders. You felt as if you were in a different body, the tension in your body almost gone, just as the one in your mind – the moments of physical interaction were enough to chase some of your worries away.
“You don’t drink?” You reached towards the table – it was closer to you than to him – and took the two glasses, handing him the water and keeping the beer for yourself.
“Not before,” he explained curtly, which you accepted without further questioning.
“So… what are we gonna do?” you asked carefully, sipping the beer through a metal straw, trying to give off a casual vibe despite focusing deeply on what you were about to hear.
“Depends. On how much will you allow me to do.” Baekhyun focused his gaze on something in the crowd; you felt as though it was his habit to avoid a direct gaze in an attempt to sound collected. “I had the idea of showing you some things. Just so you feel it out a little. It’s not final, but it may help the both of us figure out how we feel about it. Like a free trial, you see my point?” You nodded, but didn’t say anything, so after a moment he continued. “I won’t introduce you to everything, and it won’t last as long as usual sessions, either. I’ll talk to you a bit beforehand so we figure out some basic things. It shouldn’t make you uncomfortable. I won’t be trying anything beyond your comfort zone.”
“So, no deals a’la Fifty shades?” you felt silly the moment these words left your mouth. Baekhyun laughed awkwardly.
“No, it won’t be necessary. If you want to draw a comparison to that, I definitely won’t be dumping the whole scheme on you when you don’t even know what it’s like.”
And you won’t fuck me first thing in the plot, you added in your thoughts.
“There are a few things that I may ask you here, so that we have those out of the way,” he spoke; his tone lowered a little. “I need you to tell me if you have any illnesses or old injures that could influence your physical capacity.”
You thought for a bit; the answer was important, but you couldn’t recall much.
“I don’t think there’s anything important.”
“Is there anything unimportant?” His gaze pierced through you as he caught on your wording.
“Uh… I’m taking pills for my thyroid, but it’s nothing very dramatic” you explained. “Nothing else that I know of.”
Baekhyun nodded slowly.
“Fair. Next question, is there anything you’re particularly scared of? Phobias, or things you’re scared of in general, anything overly triggering that you want to avoid at all costs?” You already revealed some of these during your first conversation. But now you felt more at ease, and you thought you could be more detailed without sounding overwhelming.
“I’m… scared of fire. And hate my hair being pulled. I don’t know, why. I can’t explain it. It’s just…”
“It’s alright. You don’t need to explain yourself to me” Baekhyun looked at you with his eyebrows slightly furrowed. “You sound like it would stress you out to share. You don’t need to be afraid of that. You don’t owe me anything, keep that in mind. It’s not supposed to feel like an obligation.”
“I-I know.”
“I’m scared of heights, by the way.” You stared at him in confusion. “Hm? Just thought it’s fair to share if you did.”
“Oh.”
“Chill out.” He nudged your glass with his hand to urge you to drink some more of the beer you managed to forget about by then. It was halfway through – you didn’t want to leave the glass with some of it still inside, although it managed to make you feel just a bit sick already.
His own drink was at around the same level too, and as you finished yours, he drank the remaining water in one go as well.
You weren’t the best at handling alcohol, and even the small amounts made you a bit weak in the knees. But you felt sober enough as the two of you finally got up; Baekhyun paid for your drinks and you left the bar.
The weather was nice, as expected. Going out into the sunlight again startled you, somehow; you felt as though a lot of time had already passed. But no, it was still the same afternoon.
It was true that Baekhyun lived nearby. His apartment was in a different direction than your place, though, and you estimated it would take around twenty minutes to get from one place to the other. You knew this area, although not too well – there were only some tenement houses, but no stores or academic buildings that could gain your attention or regular presence. It was on the more expensive side, although not a place a well off office worker wouldn’t afford; just maybe not suitable for a student. The tenement houses were old, but well-kept, and you knew that the apartments were way bigger than in a place like yours.
Opening the door for you, Baekhyun invited you into the dark hallway of his apartment. There were no lights, as every wall had doors to other rooms: two to the left, one at the end of the corridor, and two more to the right, perfectly symmetric.
“Kitchen, my office, bathroom, my bedroom, and the living room,” the man told you, starting from the left. One glance into the living room on the right made you realize just how big the rooms were; enormous, in your honest opinion, with the area of something around a classroom at school, but with ceilings that reached far up, almost twice higher than in your own place. Heavy curtains hung from the top of the tall windows like limp branches of a willow tree, giving the most dramatic effect, and – likely – gathering tons of dust throughout their lifetime. Wooden, carved furniture added to the effect, and you, in all your sincerity, would not dare to ask how much such a set cost, although it would be a lie to say that you weren’t curious. Wooden panels on the floor were already worn and grey, giving you a thought that the interiors were kept in this particular shape for long years before Baekhyun began to reside in there.
“That’s huge,” you only uttered. Your eyes rested on a painting in the middle of a wall on the left side of the room, above an eclectic-green, velvet couch, in front of which was a wooden coffee table, and which gave a perfect sight into an old TV on the side of the room, as it was one of the old-styled, small models that would be hard to look at from the distance between one wall and the other. The painting looked old, but you wondered from the distance, whether it was not just printed in good quality, with all the details of lights, people and nature making it look like a piece of national heritage rather than a small private property. It portrayed a battle scene coming to an end, warriors in shining armor stained with blood resting upon trees and a small pond of pinkish water, at either sunset or sunrise – you weren’t sure.
“You like it?” He caught your stare and followed it, giving himself a few seconds to adore the painting as well, as though he hadn’t looked at it enough despite living here.
“It’s too violent,” you decided after a moment. “But it’s nice to look at.”
“It’s not that violent in itself, I think. But it does conjure the thought of it.”
He left the living room with you still in the doorframe, staying to look at the painting just for a few more seconds. When you turned around, he was entering the kitchen – this room also looked old, but less well kept; it was cleaned up perfectly, however the furniture was shabby, with the surfaces often partly rubbed off and grey; this room simply screamed for renovation. But you felt way more at ease with the fact that it looked similar to yours – the one that was over twenty years old when you moved with and you had no way of changing it without getting in trouble with the landlord. And not like you’d want to do it at all, since you’d move out right after your studies anyway. The only difference was that you tried to make your apartment look a bit warmer with colorful lights and other cheap ornaments here and there, while Baekhyun’s kitchen was just left as it was, as though he gave up on it the moment he moved in.
“Hungry?”
“Not much.” You were still full of the freshly consumed beer.
Out of the fridge, Baekhyun took a bag of half-eaten potato chips. You stared at him with your eyebrow raised as he ate a few of these, and then extended the bag towards you, to which you only shook your head and he put the bag back in the fridge. He caught your look.
“Food moths,” he explained. You slowly nodded in understanding. That’d be a useful tip if you ever got those. The summer was slowly coming; soon, your small apartment would also be filled with bugs, and fruit flies, mosquitos, and sciarids because you kept a few plants in (discovering that sciarids and fruit flies were not the same thing was an important step in achieving perfect harmony in your adulthood).
You sat awkwardly by the table, observing him as he reached for the bag he must have left on the counter before he went to pick you up, and took out leftovers – probably from work – putting them back in the fridge.
“You worked today?” you asked.
“Yeah, just an average thing, a strategic meeting with co-workers. My working hours are not regular, so I didn’t really know I was gonna be out today.”
Once he was done, he sat by the table as well, and you leaned a bit forward, resting your chin on top of your hand.
“You could have postponed it with me, you must be tired,” you said.
“Don’t worry, I’d rather have a chance to relax with you.”
That didn’t sound as innocent as he probably tried to make it, and he looked over his shoulder to make sure he didn’t scare you with the choice of words. You only laughed awkwardly.
“Anyway. Since, as I said, I don’t want to intimidate you, I think we’ll stay in the living room since you seemed content with that,” he spoke casually.
“So, no playroom?” you uttered. Baekhyun choked on the chip in his mouth.
“I don’t own such a place. I just usually use the bedroom. Or the bathroom,” he explained.
“Or the office?” you felt bold enough to suggest, giving him a small smirk.
“No, I assure you the office is for what offices usually are.”
You smiled innocently as Baekhyun stared at you, probably trying to mask sudden shyness.
“Either way,” he cleared his throat. “I told you some about what I want to do, but you haven’t told me if there’s anything you’re interested in trying out. I assume you did see some things, so… Is there anything that you’ve been particularly interested in?”
The harmless way in which he phrased the question absolutely didn’t change the fact that he was, basically, asking what kind of porn you watch.
“I uh… I like watching different things, just out of curiosity, but I’m not really sure if there’s anything I like particularly more than other things… I suppose bondage is the biggest basic.” You tried, you really tried to sound neutral, but your voice trembled a little. “But I’m not really sure, to be honest. I’m quite open-minded, I suppose…” You felt silly; how could you not be able to answer the most basic question – what do you like? But Baekhyun seemed to understand that very well, as he only nodded slowly.
“What about, let’s say, pet play?” You blushed slightly. “You know what I’m talking about? I feel like a lot of young women start from there.” It took you a moment to realize that you, too, were a young woman. “Behavioral training. Humiliation. Regression. A bit of pain, if suitable. Trying out a few things to see how you respond. What do you think?”
“I think it may be fun” you said slowly. “Does it have something to do with the…?” you motioned your neck, hoping he’ll get the cue. You remembered the collars the other people wore – they were the main reason you got interested in the first place, after all. Baekhyun smiled, catching on your observation.
“Sometimes, but not necessarily. It’s just a thing I like. Do you?”
“…I may,” you answered carefully.
“Gotcha. We may try it out. You know, everyone is different. The collars are different too. I usually order them after I’m sure the person’s gonna stay, and when I know what type will be the most suitable for them. I can’t do that for you yet, but I have some spare items.”
“Do you have the ones of people who you’re not with anymore?” you asked, out of pure curiosity.
Baekhyun was silent for a moment.
“I do. But I’d rather not use them. They’re there for memory, not for use.”
“Gotcha. I was just curious,” you quickly explained.
“Do you have a safe-word?” Baekhyun’s gaze rested on you.
“…Not really. Never needed one,” you uttered sheepishly.
“You have anything on your mind?”
“Um, the… thing with lights? The red light, yellow and green?” you proposed carefully.
“That’s a good one. Tell me how you understand them.”
“So, the green one means everything’s alright, the yellow is when we need to slow down, and the red stops the scene,” you recited, as if you were reading from a book.
“That’s right. It’s easy to remember, so we can go with that.” You bit on your lips to prevent yourself from getting too excited with the apparent praise; it wasn’t anything big, of course – but you felt as though it was a praise in itself, being acknowledged for saying something right. “Another thing is that I need you to know a few rules, before we start.” You were all ears. “First, I don’t want you to be reluctant for the fun of it. Whether you want to be a brat later or not, today we’re just trying things out and I don’t want to mistake your attitude with actual discomfort, do you understand?” You nodded slowly, memorizing the words and waiting for him to continue. “Second. No pain that I will impose on you will be a matter of punishment, unless I specify so. If you don’t enjoy it, you need to tell me so. It doesn’t mean I’ll stop right away, unless – of course – you use the safe-word. However, I still expect honesty. During, as well as after the scene, when we review it. Do you understand?” The breaks in between the points gave you enough time to acknowledge the information and encode it in your memory. You nodded once again. “And for the last. Do you trust me?”
The tone made you look up at him, finally focusing on his person rather than the words alone.
“I do,” you finally decided; knowing very well what this answer would lead to.
Baekhyun’s eyes sparkled as he smiled at you warmly.
“Well then, shall we start?”
* * *
You stand in the middle of the room, the cardigan and shoes are off, your feet feel cold against the floor despite socks wrapped around them comfortingly.
Don’t move a finger, you’ve been told, and so, you stare at the painting before you, the warrior in the front staring at you back with contempt you haven’t noticed before.
Your breath trembles in anticipation as you try to hear sounds from other rooms – you do hear some shuffling, but nothing that you can figure out for sure. He must be in his bedroom, you think. What is he preparing? Which tools out of many that you’ve seen on the screen of your phone all these nights that, despite spending perfect eight hours in bed, did not end in getting perfect eight hours of sleep?
Your arm itches, but you fight the urge to scratch it; be obedient, he said.
Steps echo in the corridor and you hold your breath. Your head snaps to the side the moment you hear him enter the room again.
“Eyes down,” he commands without sparing you a glance; you haven’t had enough time to see what he brought, but you instantly obey his words. “Don’t look at me unless I allow you to.” His voice is stern, and it makes your stomach clench nervously. But it’s not a bad sensation, not at all – you grow excited. “Down. On your knees.”
You try to comply, but he still scoffs at your apparent sluggishness. You almost fall over as you let your knees bend and you finally kneel down as well as you can, eyes facing down as well, although you feel awkward as you do so.
“On your toes,” Baekhyun commands; something small but hard hits your heels, startling you, and your head whips around to see a wooden pointing stick. You swallow the gasp of surprise at the sight.
You fix your posture, your toes instantly begin to cramp; that’s uncomfortable, and your toes aren’t too flexible, it seems.
“Straighten your back. You’re slouching.”
The task turns out almost impossible to do, the whole weight lands on your toes and you frown in discomfort.
“Is it necessary…?”
“Look at me.” It feels unnatural to do so now, but you oblige, turning your head to the side where he stands. “What’s wrong?”
“My toes hurt,” you admit quietly. Baekhyun watches you for a moment.
“Straighten them. Kneel as you did before.” You bite your lips and nod, uttering a small thank you that you find suitable enough as the position gets a bit more comfortable. “Back. Straighten.”
You automatically snap back into the position. But it does feel a bit silly – like something your teachers would say, don’t slouch! A laughter comes out at the comparison, but you attempt to stifle it.
Apparently, not well enough.
The pointer hits the nape of your neck; not too hard, but the message gets through.
Baekhyun stands in front of you and, most likely, stares you down – you can’t tell; your gaze is fixated on his lacquered shoes. The shoes then move, kicking the middle of your thighs.
“Spread.”
You feel a bit awkward as you oblige this command; you only glance down to make sure your pants aren’t ripped – you never know. To your relief, they’re not. Then you try to glance forward – but, what’s in front of you, makes you more shy than anything, so you just fix your gaze on his knees instead.
“You’re slouching again.”
“Pets often do,” you note before you manage to bite your tongue; you do remember your conversation from before – wasn’t it what he was aiming for? You thought so at first. But the words were not thought through at all; you just felt a need to say something, anything, just like you’d talk back to a teacher when they became too annoying in their remarks.
You hold your breath as Baekhyun crouches down to your level.
You feel his eyes on you, and you unwittingly tremble under his gaze, forcing yourself to look even lower, not daring to break the rule. The seconds seem to last hours as he doesn’t speak a word – and he doesn’t have to. You feel intimidated.
“You want to be a pet?”
He stands up; he’s right in front of you, if you so much as leaned forward a little bit, your forehead would touch his thigh. You slightly crave the touch; but not enough to move, not when you grow petrified. The question is rhetorical. You wait for him to finish the thought.
“Then I’ll treat you like one.”
Without waiting for your reaction, he steps behind you. You hear shuffling in what had to be a box placed behind your back; you see nothing.
But you hear the harsh, recognizable clink of metal and your stomach drops.
* * *
Please, reblog if you enjoyed, it'll help me a bunch!
Author's note: Hello, have you missed me??? I'm sorry it took so long to upload, it's hard to find time among exams I had in June, and now my (first) new job! The next chapter is already being written, so hopefully, won't take that long. Remember to reblog if you liked, and I'll be really happy to hear what you have to say about this so far. Stay safe!
Next (Chapter 4.)
#exowritersnet#kdiarynet#bbh-net#exosnet#exo baekhyun#exo bbh#bbh x reader#bbh#exo#byun baekhyun#exo fanfiction#baekhyun fanfiction#exo x reader#baekhyun x reader#vg: vulnerability#vg: exo#vg: baekhyun#vg: series
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Rose & Thorns: 01
— summary: a lone rose, a little broken, until Jungkook came along and the two of you saved each other. and in doing so, Jungkook showed you a world where he shared with his six other mates.
— pairing: dragon!jungkook x reader / future!bts x reader
— genre: angst, slight fluff / poly!au / fantasy!au / dragon!au
— word count: 3.4k
— warnings: orphan reader, bits of insecurities kicked in here and there
╰ part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 / part 8 / part 9 / part 10
"Hi there."
In the dark and deep dungeon where Jungkook laid, his head perked up at the sound of a lady's voice and his brows furrowed. A girl? What was a girl doing in a part of the village where the villagers have deemed to be the most dangerous zone? Surely guards must have surrounded the area with tough security, right? So how did you manage to go past it?
"I'm Y/N," he heard the voice again and a soft scoff left him.
You were probably just there curious to see the dragon those infamous soldiers have managed to catch.
"I am..." you trailed off and he found himself waiting for what you had to say, "I am the keeper of the dragon."
Keeper.
He never imagined a girl to be a keeper.
"Damn, that sounds weird," he heard you mumble to yourself, a light chuckle leaving your lips. "But anyways," you went on, "it'll be just you and me for a while because no one else wanted to take up the role of the keeper except I. Which is fine, I've always wanted to take up a task as big as this. Oh, and you must be hungry so I brought you food. Trust me though, no one has poisoned it so don't be shy and starve yourself, alright?"
Shy, Jungkook scoffed to himself. What would a dragon ever be shy about? He could rip you to pieces if he wanted.
Too bad the chains around him kept him from escaping and doing anything rash.
He sighed, ignoring your ongoing ramblings and thought back on how in the world he managed to get caught in the first place.
His hyungs have always warned him about going hunting around the areas where humans settled but there was more prey there so he decided to take up the challenge. He should have told someone yet his rebellious side allowed him to go off on his own without a word to his own clan.
That was how the humans got to him, dragon hunters, they'd call themselves.
Stabbed on his arm as he was flying about the sky and near the ground. That didn't entirely weaken him but because of the fact that he was caught off guard and they held spears and ropes, Jungkook struggled to get away so, in the end, he woke up after being unconscious, locked up in some sort of dungeon with his neck chained up that extended to the wall to keep him from escaping.
The chain around his neck was hurting him far more than he expected but what could he do?
Maybe his clan would come looking for him. But with the fact that he had told no one where he was heading off to, Jungkook doubted they'd be able to track him down that easily.
"Are you alright?" You asked him the next day but he gave you no words. Still, despite his silence, you went on and on about all sorts of stories probably out of boredom.
He didn't know what you were doing, why you decided to take up the role of a keeper when everyone else in your village was in fear of him. Were you brave or just a fool? He had no idea what to conclude.
But for some reason, as the days passed and he was forced to listen to all of your endless stories, Jungkook was glad for your presence. Maybe it was the fact that he would have gone crazy if he wasn't around anyone for a while. Maybe because you actually sounded like someone who wasn't scared of him, someone who was a little different from those villagers, and someone who was treating him as a normal being.
Whatever it was, he was glad for your presence that replaced the warmth of his hyung's arms.
"You ate!" You rejoiced the second you came back early one morning.
It was funny how excited and happy you were about the fact that he actually ate something. He didn't know what you looked like because he never cared to head into the light, where you were, but your voice alone was sweet, something that told him you were a pure sweet being who enjoyed the little things in life.
You reminded him of Hoseok and Taehyung in that sense, and the feeling of nostalgia came rushing over him.
He missed home.
"Do you have a family?" You asked suddenly, sitting down at the exact same spot you would always sit at. "I had a family but they've gone and now my families are the villagers. But lately, they think I've gone crazy because I still haven't run away from this place and still visit it each and every day. But I'm not crazy, trust me!" He wanted to laugh at how defensive you were despite his silence. You were cute. "It's just that whatever job I am given, I never give up even if it gives me a hard time — not that this job is giving me a hard time, I actually enjoy this believe it or not."
Why is that? Jungkook wanted to ask.
And as if reading his mind, you answered "It's lonely back in the village. You don't talk much but that's alright, it's better to have a silent presence than abandonment and someone who rambles about how stupid and crazy I am."
Had something happened? Your voice was growing somber.
"I'm so sorry." It came out into a breathless whisper, as if you were recalling a lost memory, as if you were on the verge of crying. "I'm so sorry they've kept you locked up in here," you said. "Trust me, if I was the chief villager and had the power to have others nodding at my commands, I'd tell them to set you free."
What?
"I've already done it once but was cast away and told to just continue doing my job. They're so cruel," you mumbled through a pout. "You must have a family that misses you but I can't even do anything to help you except ramble on and on about useless things which aren't helpful at all. I'm so sorry."
Why were you apologizing when none of it had been your fault? Why were you blaming yourself for the villager's actions?
"Would you rather I kept silent instead of rambling? I'm so sorry, you must be annoyed with me, right? I can-"
"Don't."
You froze, head quick to shoot up upon hearing his voice for the first time. Jungkook was surprised too. He never thought he'd ever say a word, but the deeds were done so he convinced himself whatever, he had already spoken so he might as well do some more.
"Don't stop talking," he said again, "I like your voice...Y/N."
A small smile spreads across your face, creating a beaming glow and with just hearing his voice and pretty words, and a drop of tear fell from your eyes.
"R-really?" You asked, standing up from where you sat as you held the silver bars in front of you, trying to look for him. But it was too dark to see.
A long silence passed and then, light footsteps. Footsteps of a human walking and you held your breath.
Bit by bit, little by little, you watched with a piercing gaze, waiting until he finally walked into the light. Your breath hitched at the sight of a man around your age, shirtless with scars all over him from the events of when he had gotten caught and old scars from elsewhere.
He was handsome. So incredibly handsome. With a sharp gaze and jawlines that could cut straight through the silver bars.
When Jungkook saw you, he had to blink for a moment. He wasn't too surprised by your beauty. Your voice was incredibly sweet and pretty, matching your beautiful face. But he frowned at the trail of tears that had left your eyes and his heart ached.
"Why are you crying?" He asked you by the time he got closer and stood just in front of you with the bars being the only thing that kept you apart.
Jungkook wanted to reach out but he held back, knowing that that would have been incredibly rude towards a lady.
"I'm not crying," you quickly lied and went on to wipe away the tears that had been waiting to fall away.
"You're a horrible liar."
You cringed. "Am I?" Jungkook hummed, nodding. "It's just...it's the first time someone has told me they liked my voice."
He frowned. "No one else likes your voice?"
"It kind of gets annoying," you said, a small bitter smile appearing.
His heart ached at the once bubbly voice now gone due to the insecurities those villagers have drilled into you.
"Speak as much as you'd like," he told you. "Your voice calms me down, lets me know that I'm not alone."
"Well you're not alone," you declared, suddenly acting all heroic. He smiled at the energy. "As long as I'm here, you'll never be lonely. But let's hope it isn't for long because I want you to have your freedom soon."
He knew that he'd definitely miss you if he ever got that freedom again.
"Does it hurt?" You asked him the next day and Jungkook looked up from smacking on a mango. You gestured at his neck, where the chain stood and Jungkook gave you an awkward lopsided smile.
"Yeah," he admitted. "It weighs a lot, it's a burden but I'm a tough dragon so I'll be alright."
"Oh please," you scoffed, pouting a little, "even the biggest and strongest dragons get hurt."
That next day, you came back with some ointment and treatments in a basket along with his meals.
"You told me it wouldn't hurt!" Jungkook hissed the moment you applied the ointment on him, stinging his wounds.
"I told you it'd sting just a little!" You argued. "Now stop moving around, it's hard enough treating your wounds with bars in our way, don't make it harder."
"But it hurts," the young dragon whined and you laughed aloud, making him pout.
"I thought you were a big and strong dragon."
"Even the biggest and strongest dragons get hurt."
The two of you smiled at his words, a reminder of the day before.
You came back a few minutes later with a pair of clothes you managed to steal from one of the village boys. They wouldn't notice, they had plenty of clothes to spare and you needed Jungkook to have clothes so that he could at least keep warm for the chilly nights.
"What happened to your shirt?" You asked him as he placed the shirt on top of him. He was masculine, so bulk with abs that could make you full for days. But you looked away before he could notice your stare, lightly slapping yourself in the face for such imaginations.
"I guess they must've stripped it off me when I was unconscious."
Them, as in the village soldiers. You didn't like the soldiers, they were too cocky especially after capturing Jungkook. One was even consistent on trying to steal your heart, deeming himself worthy because he was part of the party that struck upon the dragon.
"Oh, I forgot!" You suddenly recalled and was quick to jump onto your feet. "I'll bring you one of my warmest blankets so that you don't have to-"
"You're leaving?"
You blinked at the disappointed sound of his voice and kept yourself from leaving just yet.
"The night can get really chilly. I'm worried about you," you told him.
But Jungkook shook his head. "I can go on another day without a warm blanket, Dragons have thick skin. But can you stay here?" He asked, eyes a little shy with a small blush painted on his cheeks. "I don't like being lonely."
"Oh."
You smiled. No one had really appreciated or even acknowledge your presence until Jungkook came along. So you stayed, sat down again and nodded.
The days went on and on like that, some bickering and little fights here and there but for the most part, the two of you got along and a friendship was growing.
But because of that, you became the center of attention when you weren't in the dungeon visiting Jungkook. The villagers would stare and talk to and about you about all sorts of things. Some deemed that Jungkook used his "powers" to keep you in there for so long every time you'd visit. There were all sorts of rumors going around and you tried to pay no mind, continuing on your task as the keeper of the dragon.
"One day, I'll free you," you told the man.
"Don't hurt yourself just for me. The villagers will turn on you."
"Why does it matter?" You shrugged. "They don't care about me except for my role of keeping an eye on a dragon. I am your keeper, Jungkook, and as your keeper, I vow to free you one day soon."
"You're a rose, Y/N," Jungkook said, eyes filled with concern for you, "and roses shouldn't try to be a thorn."
"But roses carry thorns," you argued, eyes filled with determination. "I can be brave, trust me."
"I know you can, dear one." He sighed a sad sigh. "But I'm telling you, don't hurt yourself for me."
Jungkook knew that bit by bit, he was falling for you and for a moment, he had almost forgotten about the six dragons back at home. Almost.
But he knew that in the end, it wasn't right. He was given his own mates already, ones he knew he would betray the world for without a split second of hesitation. Yet as he stared at your sad face that became more and more apparent as the days went on, Jungkook had this desiring urge to protect you from your own insecurities and the things the villagers have said about you. He knew they must have said or done something to you for you to walk into the dungeon with a face that darkened of a cloudy sky.
The longer he sat there in the dungeon waiting every night for you to return every morning, the easier it was to pick up on your fake smiles and real laughter, the easier it was for him to fall.
Yet it was forbidden to yearn for you. Not only did he have his own mates waiting for him back at home but he knew that it would be best for you to be with a man that was your own kind. A human. And the bars that separated him from ever reaching towards you reminded him each and every day.
A few nights later, Jungkook woke up at the sound of keys rattling and his head shot up with alarm, afraid it had been some soldier.
"Jungkook!"
At the sound of your harsh whisper, his brows furrowed. "Y/N what the heck are you doing?" He asked, running over towards the bar and holding onto them tightly as he stared at you with fright.
"I told you I'd set you free one day," you simply stated and then, the door opened.
He stood there frozen for the longest time, contemplating on what to do while you rushed over to his side to unlock the chains that kept him locked in. He didn't know whether to pounce onto you with a hug or scream at you to leave. He didn't know what to do. And had the doors truly opened for him to escape out of?
The second you dragged the chain off his neck, Jungkook felt free for the first time in forever, a weight taken off of him after such a long while. Literally.
"Don't cry," you told him, wiping away the tears he hadn't realized were there. Your hands were so soft, the way you cupped his face in such a gentle way. He always imagined your touches would be as gentle and soft as your heart.
Jungkook cried because your hands reminded him of the gentle touches he's once been used to from his mates, the hyungs that have always loved and taken care of him, the hyungs who were probably worried in fear each passing day, wondering whether their maknae was still alive or not. But he didn't cry just for him, he cried for you. A pure soul, a human he never knew would care so much to the point where she was saving him by risking her own life.
"We have to go, Kook, before they find out I've stolen the keys."
You took his hand into his, rough and larger, and the two of you ran into the deepest part of the forest until you finally stopped after deeming that it was finally a safe distance from your village.
"Go home, Kook," you smiled at him but he could see the glistening tears in your eyes under the moonlight.
"What about you?" He asked, holding your face in his large hands as he wiped the tears away. He'd always wanted to do that, to hold you close to him and finally he was given that chance. No bars in between to keep you apart. "They'll know that it was you who freed me, you're the only crazy one who'd free a dragon."
"I know," you chuckled through the tears, trying to make light of things. "I'll be fine."
"No, you won't." A tear slipped from his eyes. "They'll kill you, Y/N, they'll have you executed for losing a prized possession of theirs."
"I..I know." Your voice shook and you both cried a little more. "Transform now, Kook, before they find the both of us here."
He didn't want to but he knew that you were right. So lingering his fingers on you for a moment longer, not wanting to let go, he smiled at you before stepping back and then, you watched as the man in front of you transformed into the creature the villagers have come to fear and deemed the most dangerous creature in all of the lands.
When he looked back at you, eyes of a golden sun, you reached out with your hands to hold the beautiful dark scales on him, something none of the villagers would ever dare to do. But you weren't any of the villagers, you were Y/N, and Jungkook knew that Y/N was far braver and sweeter than any of those villagers.
Those eyes were still the same ones Jungkook always held despite his true dragon form and you smiled at the beautiful sight in front of you.
A loud uproar was quick to having you flinching and Jungkook looked towards the sound.
"They've found us," you gasped, turning your head back at him with alarm. "You have to leave now."
He hesitated but you were so insistent on him leaving. "Go, Jungkook. Don't let my freeing you go to waste or we'll both get executed."
"I won't let them hurt you," he vowed, "I won't let them lay a hand on you."
"Kook-"
"You saved my life, Y/N," he cut you off, "it's my turn to save yours."
You looked at him in confusion, wondering what that meant.
"Climb on my back, Y/N, ride the wind with me."
"What? Jungk-"
"Come to my village with me," he said, voice a little more desperate. "Come to my clan."
"Your clan?"
The shouting was nearing louder and louder.
"Come with me."
He lent you his back, large wings flared out and silently asking you to climb onto it so that you could reach his back.
You took a moment to look back at the loud voices that came closer and closer and then back at the eyes that had been home to you more than the village had ever been. And then, without another moment of hesitation, you climbed onto Jungkook's back and his wings flapped a few times to get themselves ready to take flight.
Yet at that moment, a bow came flying by and you were hit right near the chest, near your heart, making your body fall back and off Jungkook's back, onto the hard ground with a harsh thud.
Freedom so close yet so far away.
Jungkook growled at the soldiers that stood a few yards away, his eyes growing red at the sight of you weak and vulnerable.
His voice raged into the night sky, a cry so loud and booming that it could be heard from far, far away. He flung his tail at them, causing the soldiers to fly a few yards back.
He turned to you, whimpers leaving your lips and held you under his claws safely and securely, and then, Jungkook flew off into the night sky, riding the wind with you in hand.
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