#and curt just got hired | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ikeuverse · 7 months ago

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YOU'RE MY PROBLEM — l.heeseung

PAIRING: heeseung x fem!reader GENRES: angst, fluff, humor, suggestive WC: 11.6k+

WARNINGS: swearing, arguing, cheating, divorce, mention of drinking. slightly smut in that there is a section (albeit brief) describing almost – very almost – sex.

SYNOPSIS: for some people, it was a problem working as a nanny because of the fatigue and effort it required. but you loved looking after hajun. the only problem was his older brother, heeseung.

NOTES: idk what's going on, but heeseung's been on my mind a lot these days. 2nd plot in less than two weeks and he's the owner of everything! at first this was going to have a smut, but i felt it would be too long and idk if it turned out that well, so maybe it could happen in a second part that isn't even final. but that's it for now, i hope you like it!

masterlist

"What's your problem?" that intonation was already typical when directed at you, but it still never failed to send a chill down your spine.

Sighing, you got up from the living room floor and smiled at the little boy in front of you, trying not to focus your gaze on the man next to the sofa.

"Can't you do your job properly for once?" he said to you again as he followed you into the downstairs bathroom, and you tried to ignore him as much as possible to put the first aid kit away in the drawer and leave the room. But he blocked the door.

"Can you come out, please? I want to go through" you asked, looking at him for the first time.

"I asked you what your fucking problem is" he leaned over and gritted his teeth, now he could cuss since he wasn't next to his younger brother.

"And I asked you to leave" you leaned in too, almost touching the tip of your nose to his chin because of the height difference. This caught the man completely off guard and he took a few steps back, clearing the way for you to leave the bathroom and walk into the living room.

It wasn't a horrible accident, you weren't a terrible babysitter for nine-year-old Hajun. But his older brother, Heeseung, had been a pain in the ass ever since you first set foot in the Lee house.

And it wasn't as if you'd done anything because Mrs. Lee always praised your work highly and you even did a few extra periods just to play with Hajun or stay with him when there were family problems. These, more often than not, were your suspicions as to why the Lee family had hired a nanny for their youngest, and also why Heeseung seemed so down on life. Especially with you.

It was typical for him to make some sarcastic comment, and roll his eyes when you excitedly answered something his mother had asked. Or even mutter a swear word when Hajun chooses to go out with you instead of his own brother. Jealous? Or that intensified the anger Heeseung felt even more, you just didn't want it to be directed completely at you. In your mind, Heeseung was already like that because of something that happened in the family – and you'd always been curious to ask, you just didn't have the courage – so, because you were the only person who was easy to get along with apart from his mother and younger brother, the boy only had you to put it all out there.

You weren't such a bad listener, you could call Heeseung to sit down after your babysitting shift and tell him everything that was bothering you. Why he was so angry and, most importantly, why did he seem to hate you? Your memory tried to capture a moment when you could have given him a curt reply, a grimace or simply been rude, but no.

As soon as you arrived and introduced yourself as Hajun's new nanny, Heeseung just rolled his eyes and left the room.

"Don't worry about him, Y/n" Mrs. Lee smiled lovingly at you "Heeseung is going through a difficult process, I think he'll get better soon. He's sweet."

You hoped he would be. And you waited for months to see that Heeseung was still the same... Maybe his process would take forever and you would have been chosen to be his punching bag.

But one day it would get tiresome. Surely you knew that you would respond in full, even if you were afraid of losing your job because he might be able to get his mother's head around firing you.

Back in the living room, you smiled at Hajun when you saw the little boy smile at you too. Your gaze completely ignored Heeseung sitting in the armchair next to his brother.

"Come on Y/n, I was telling Seungie how I fell in the park earlier" the little boy had no idea what had happened minutes ago between you and Heeseung, and you preferred it that way. Your priority was always to protect Hajun and be with him.

You sat down next to him, feeling Hajun's small hands wrap around yours.

"So I went to play ball with some boys, but Y/n told me not to go barefoot because it could be dangerous for me" Hajun formed a pout on his lips as he looked away from Heeseung to his bruised knee, now completely clean and bandaged "And I didn't listen" Hajun looked at you now, showing his newly grown teeth "Do you forgive me, Y/n?"

"Oh, of course" you hugged him as he laid his head on your shoulder.

Heeseung huffed from the other side of the sofa, running his hand through his hair impatiently.

"Anyway, do your job properly next time" he got up and left the room, leaving you with Hajun as he climbed the stairs with his feet tapping.

You felt the younger man move beside you, looking into your eyes while still smiling. Hajun was an amazing child and you felt your heart sink every time you thought that, if it wasn't for you, he might be alone in this house.

Not completely alone, Heeseung worked in his room a few days a week and Hajun could ask his brother for help with anything, as he was extremely protective of the youngest. But if it wasn't for you, the little one wouldn't do his homework. He couldn't go out to the park in the next block, let alone go to the movies in the late afternoon because he was too bored to do anything indoors.

Thanks to you, Hajun had company every day. And that was the thought you had when Mrs. Lee hired you to keep him company.

"Ignore him" Hajun's voice brought you out of your thoughts and back to the reality you were in at that very moment. The little boy was already standing in the middle of the room "Heeseung is a pain in the ass when he wants to be."

"Hey, watch your mouth, young man" you laughed when he grimaced.

"Seriously, after—" Hajun sighed, looking at you "Never mind."

"You know you can tell me whenever you want, right?" you stood up too, walking over to him to ruffle the younger man's dark hair.

Hajun nodded, smiling at you and asking you to make him a brownie. Because he deserved it and he was hurting. This made you laugh because, although the mood changed drastically in that house, you knew that he always tried to take everything in good humor.

Hajun's slip in the previous few minutes only made you even more certain that something was going on, and your heart squeezed to see that he was aware of the problems within his own house even at his young age. So, more than ever, your determination to take care of him spoke louder. Because Hajun was your priority in that house. And that would always be the case.

With your head in your hands, you felt like screaming as you stared at the computer in front of you. Life as a university student was complete shit, even more so when you were forced to start a project and didn't even know where to begin.

Your two best friends were sitting right in front of you with their projects very well developed, but it was as if only your head was short-circuiting because nothing was good enough.

"You're going to tear your hair out soon" Jake leaned over the table to pull one of your hands away from your face, taking his attention away from his project.

"Can I rip my head off?" you almost cried as you looked at him, both of you looking away to Ryunjin sitting next to you.

"Why are you like this?" she asked.

"Is it because of the project?" Jake was already sitting properly in his seat, his eyes still on you and Ryunjin too. You nodded in agreement, swallowing dryly when the girl sighed.

"Or is it for someone else?" Ryunjin emphasized the question when she looked at you.

The table was now a little chaotic with Ryunjin peeking out with a smile on her lips, you trying to wiggle out of it and Jake looking between the two friends like a lost puppy.

"What the fuck is going on? Because I think I've lost something" the boy finally said.

"Heeseung, again" Ryunjin answered for you "He's still being an asshole to Y/n. Hasn't your little friend said anything worthwhile to let us know what happened?"

Jake opened and closed his mouth to answer but to no avail. He was a friend of Heeseung's, fortunately, or unfortunately, the boy went to the same university as you. Being Jake's friend, he once let slip that his mother was looking for someone to look after Hajun. And since you needed money... you could just combine the useful with the pleasant.

But your friend seemed to be as lost as you were, or at least he pretended very well. As one of Heeseung's best friends, it would be difficult for him to tell you if something was going on that could involve you. But he was also your best friend. This standoff with Jake could leave you confused and feeling bad on both sides, which is why you never pressured him to tell you anything.

"He's just having some problems" Jake tried to be vague on the subject.

"He's the problem, Jake" you closed your computer, giving up on working on a project you knew would come to nothing. Your head was full – unfortunately of annoyance about Heeseung – and nothing could make you concentrate on the moment "He was really rude to me last time, you know?"

He knew.

He listened to Heeseung swear for ten minutes about how you could let Hajun get hurt. Then he let his friend cool off and tried to argue that it wasn't your fault. Heeseung understood and even pondered whether he had been too hard on you.

"I... No, what did he do?" Jake nibbled his lower lip to suppress a sigh as he began to listen to everything he had to say.

From his perspective it wasn't your fault, Heeseung was too hard on you and anything you did. Sometimes Jake felt like telling you everything, telling you how many times he'd lost count by cursing Heeseung for his behavior. Or wanting to punch him just because his friend took out his frustrations on the wrong things.

"You need to talk to him to stop being like that with Y/n" Ryunjin caught Jake's eye, making him look at her "Or I'll shove some architectural material up his ass. Name one."

"A piece of concrete?" Jake frowned. He had no idea which materials were architectural, Heeseung did that course, not him. Jake was a computer scientist, just like Ryunjin.

She smiled with satisfaction at the answer and then looked at you.

"Now don't think about him and focus on your project, my love" Ryunjin reached out to touch your hand gently "I bet your designers are going to be amazing."

"We can't wait to see it" Jake also celebrated, taking your other hand and running his thumb over the back of it in affectionate contact.

Even with all the stuff going on in your life, the daily stress of dealing with the older brother of the little boy you were looking after, being in the presence of your friends seemed to cure everything and then some. Even though Jake was Heeseung's friend, that didn't change the way your friend treated you or how much he wanted to see you well.

Ever since these disagreements between you and Heeseung started happening, Jake made it clear to both parties that he didn't want to be a part of it. Ryunjin even complained once that she would be part of it and still defend you, but no one listened – thankfully.

After some time exchanging glances with your friends and smiling, you decided to focus on your project because, even if time was in your favor and the deadline was a month away, being prepared and ahead of schedule was your motto.

Taking advantage of a few vacant classes at college was perfect for going to a remote table on campus and working on whatever it was. These get-togethers with your friends were what got you out of stressful and bad times, even if you saw them on some weekends or in some classes. Just sitting there, chatting away regardless of the subject, made you feel a little better.

"Jake, dude, I finally found you" the voice took you away from your more peaceful thoughts and gratitude for your friends to focus forward. The boy whose name had been called stared after you with soft eyes, but as soon as he noticed your gaze on him, Jake's eyes widened slightly "Are you studying?"

Heeseung's voice was unmistakable to you. And at that moment you wanted to dig a hole and hide, or run out of there just so you wouldn't have the pleasure of bumping into the boy at his study table.

"Tidying up projects" Jake hissed, squeezing Ryunjin's leg under the table when he felt his friend move in her place. Her gaze was locked on Heeseung so angrily, yet the boy didn't notice, too distressed to find Jake.

"Can I join you here?" he asked "I need to finish some university homework and then we need to meet Jay for a game of basketball."

"Sure" Jake gave a small smile and beckoned Heeseung to sit down.

No. Not. Jake and Ryunjin were sitting next to each other, so the only vacant seat was right next to you.

Heeseung sat down without looking in their direction. He smiled at Ryunjin as a silent greeting, but she took it in her stride and ended up nodding at him politely after looking at you at the same moment Heeseung did.

The boy's eyes could come out of their orbs if it were possible, the way he opened them. Fidgeting uncomfortably on the bench next to you, he was in a bit of shock, even looking a little vulnerable given the circumstances that Heeseung always looked fierce when he was around you at his house.

"Y/n?" he asked, afraid that you were real.

"Hey" you said quietly.

He didn't know what to say, how could he forget that Jake was always with you on campus if you weren't with him? Why didn't Heeseung check out the people at that table before he sat down?

There were so many questions circling his mind that, as the boy saw you ignore him to open the computer and focus on your study, maybe he should do the same.

Focusing on his university homework while he waited for Jake to finish his project and then meet his other friends was what he had to do. All Heeseung had to do was answer a few questions that the teacher had given him in class and hope that his friend would finish as quickly as possible.

"Heeseung" Ryunjin called out after a while, her gaze flicking between him and you. You both looked very uncomfortable next to each other and it was so clear. Even more so after he arrived and didn't greet you properly, it wouldn't go unnoticed by your best friend.

"Hey, Ryunjin" he tried to smile amiably, almost feeling a shiver run down his spine when she leaned over the table, resting her elbows on the stone. She smiled strangely; he had seen it before when the girl was sarcastic or about to fight with someone. Was she going to fight with him?

"Is there concrete in your course building?" she asked.

Heeseung frowned in complete confusion. That question had no basis in fact, but at least she wasn't angry with him, so he could relax a little and not feel any more chills as the girl still stared at him.

"We have several, will you need them?"

"Yes" she said.

"Sure, but what for?" when Heeseung asked and Ryunjin was about to answer, you quickly closed your computer. Praying that everything was intact even with the small bang.

This startled the three at the table – even you – so you got up and grabbed your backpack.

"I remembered that I need to go with Ryunjin to the library, now" your emphasis was a complete answer to the fact that your friend would have to follow you. Jake was grateful that she obeyed, even if it was against her will, putting her things away as she picked up the backpack to leave.

"Why did she want concrete?" Heeseung looked at Jake after you and Ryunjin left, laughing quietly and focusing on the questions he needed to answer, missing his friend's gaze, which was a little shocked.

"I have no idea" Jake lied.

Or omitted, exactly. Heeseung didn't need to know the intentions of the girl who had ranted at him minutes before he arrived at the table.

Of all the things Heeseung wanted to put out of his mind, one was to know exactly where to find the person who had hurt him the most. Who broke up the perfect family he thought he had.

Heeseung wanted to be able not to remember the bar his father frequented, but here he was. Across the street watching the large glass windows, and inside the establishment, people were drinking and celebrating something.

He was drinking too. He was already on his third bottle and brought the glass up to his lips to finish off the bitter liquid which, at this point, no longer had any effect. Heeseung was focused on the male figure who was laughing and raising his glass of alcohol to talk to some other men. So this was how his father looked every Thursday night before going home. That's how Heeseung followed him one night, tired of seeing his father come home late only to catch him drinking in that damn bar, with a woman sitting on his lap who must have been Heeseung's age.

His father didn't see him he didn't want to cause a fuss and make his mother even more worried because, frankly, Heeseung was on the other side of town and late at night. But he couldn't hide it when he got home and told his mother. She was an amazing woman and didn't deserve the kind of thing that was happening right behind his back and that of the whole family.

Heeseung didn't know that he could feel as strongly repulsed by someone as he did by the man who, at that moment, staggered out of the bar with another woman hanging around his neck.

He felt nauseous, wanting to throw up the beers he had bought while his eyes stung and blurred. But the figure of the man on the other side who was dialing something on his cell phone was clear, waiting for the app car together with another woman. She was different from the woman Heeseung first caught him with, so his father was with a different one every time. That was even more disgusting.

"Let's go to my apartment, baby" he laughed out loud as soon as the car arrived, letting the woman get in first and him follow behind. Leaving Heeseung's sight as the car pulled away.

"Fucker" Heeseung kicked the glass bottle against the sidewalk to break it instantly.

The tears were already rolling freely down his face and he didn't care that he was crying, he'd held it in for so long since the last two days. He stayed in his room so that he could cry in peace without his mother or Hajun noticing. He didn't want to worry them because he was now the oldest male figure there. While his mother worked all the time at the company, Heeseung needed to be there for Hajun even if you were with him.

His thoughts were soon interrupted by the sound of Heeseung's cell phone, startling him briefly as he picked it up to see who was calling. His mother.

Involuntarily, a sad smile formed amidst the tears and he didn't think twice about answering the call.

"Hi son, where are you?" she asked on the other end of the line.

"I came for a walk" he struggled to keep his voice from sounding so sad and tearful, clearing his throat as he sniffled "Is everything all right? Do you need anything?"

"Everything's fine, don't worry" she laughed, making Heeseung laugh too. That laugh that he missed, knowing that it was slowly coming back "It's just that a great opportunity has arisen to close a deal with another partner in the company and I'm going to have to travel to the neighboring city for a week."

"And Hajun?" he asked.

"I've just spoken to Y/n, she's going to sleep at home" his mother just passed on the information, showing that the decision had already been made. And even if it wasn't, Heeseung couldn't do much since he knew that his younger brother needed the nanny's care. He couldn't be available to look after Hajun.

"All right" he said afterward, "I'm coming home."

"Okay, my son. Come back carefully, okay?" she seemed to be smiling as she spoke, which warmed Heeseung's heart "Be a good boy with the two of them at home, please."

"I will" he replied "Bye mom, I love you."

"I love you more, my boy" and saying that, she hung up.

Heeseung felt less bad about his mother's call, but he still couldn't forget the scene he had seen a few minutes ago. He knew that his mother was moving on and accepting the divorce as best she could, but Heeseung couldn't forgive the betrayal. The way his father had acted in the face of everything. He hadn't spoken to the man since he found out, choosing to ignore his calls and messages and telling his mother not to go to the university. Heeseung didn't want to see him. He'd rather pretend he'd never met or lived with a lying father than have to say anything to the man.

Maybe he needed to go home like he said he would. His head was already beginning to buzz with disparaging and angry thoughts, which he wanted to get rid of quickly.

A hot bath and a video game were all Heeseung needed at the moment to feel cleansed of everything he had witnessed that day. Not that it had been much, but he hadn't come home from university. He hadn't arrived at the same time as Hajun from school so that he could have lunch with him. Heeseung wandered around every familiar corner until he stopped at an app car and went straight to that damn bar. Now it was time to get another app car and go home.

Heeseung felt angry with himself for letting anger take over every fiber of his body, while he could do the same as his mother. Or even Hajun, who was already asking less about the man daily. Perhaps the younger brother wouldn't even remember his father if he wasn't mentioned, and the elder wanted it that way. He wanted his brother not to have the proximity he had to see how disgusting and untruthful the man who once lived with them was.

"Thank you" Heeseung thanked the driver as soon as he pulled up in front of his house, getting out of the car and waving quickly.

He took slow steps to the front door to see that everything was dark, you had probably already put Hajun to bed and that would be a relief. The two of you would be asleep and you wouldn't see the deplorable state that Heeseung had arrived home in.

In as much silence as he could manage, he unlocked the door and opened it, then locked it and looked around. Absolute silence inside the house. It brought Heeseung a little peace to think that the motherfucker he had seen earlier would never set foot in his house again.

He took off his shoes and the jacket he was wearing, throwing the garment on the sofa and feeling his body begin to tire. His throat was dry from the beers and from crying, his eyes would surely swell up because of it and Heeseung always forgot that fact. It was a pain. So maybe a little water would at least save his throat; he'd deal with his morning appearance later.

Heeseung walked to the kitchen only to feel a scream escape his mouth as the fridge door slammed shut.

"Fuck" he put his hand over his chest as he looked at your equally frightened figure. You had also let out a little scream, but he only heard his own because his ears were ringing "Why is everything out?" he asked when he saw you moving away from the fridge.

"I thought you'd already arrived, I didn't want to disturb you" you held up the bottle of juice, probably something you'd drink while you were there until you fell asleep.

Heeseung just nodded and walked over to the light switch, squeezing his eyes shut along with you when the brightness hit. It didn't take long to get used to it before he looked at you, swallowing dryly as you looked back at him.

"Is everything okay?" you asked. Heeseung was going to ask why but forgot that his eyes and the tip of his nose were probably red because he had been crying.

Shit. Continuing with the light off could have been better.

"I don't want to talk about it" he replied immediately, his nervous tone returning as Heeseung looked away from you.

"Heeseung—"

"You're here to look after Hajun, right?" turning to look at you, Heeseung felt his eyes misting up again. He didn't know why he felt like crying while standing in front of you, one of the only people he didn't want to show himself vulnerable to apart from his younger brother and his mother "So why don't you do your job, and stop asking questions?"

For a split second, Heeseung saw your shoulders slump, the bottle of juice resting on the sink and your lips parting to say something. He blinked a few times to keep the tears from falling.

"What's your problem?" you finally said to him, your chest aching and your heart beating fast from nervousness "I have no idea what's happened to you" with each word, you took a tiny step towards him because Heeseung was blocking the passage from the kitchen worktop to the main door to leave the room. You had no choice but to approach him "But don't take your frustrations out on me!" you wanted to shout the last sentence, but out of respect for Hajun and for him being asleep, all you did was poke his chest a little harder. Pushing your index finger in there.

Heeseung closed his eyes as he felt your finger pushing him, but before you could push him away, he grabbed your hand.

Your eyes widened at him because that was the first touch the two of you had shared since you started working at the Lee family home. His fingers were warm against your wrist and you wanted to struggle to get out of his grip, but without a doubt, Heeseung was stronger and faster. Pulling your body against his and wrapping his other arm around your waist.

It would be foolish to ask what or why, and even more foolish to try to get out of there because with every reluctant movement you made, he pulled your body even tighter against him. He tilted his face towards you, lowering it enough to touch his forehead to yours, and you took the opportunity to lean in and meet his lips halfway.

The touch of Heeseung's lips was soft, his tongue pressing against your bottom lip was electrifying and when he wrapped the muscle around yours, you could taste the lingering taste of beer in his mouth. It wasn't as if you'd never drunk before, but feeling the alcohol in someone else's mouth, Heeseung's had made your whole body shiver.

He pulled your body closer until his big hands and firm fingers pressed your waist to your butt. Giving small touches to your thigh, he wanted to signal you to jump into his lap, and without disobeying you did so, already knowing that your butt would be in contact with the cold marble countertop in the kitchen.

Your legs wrapped around Heeseung's waist and body to pull him closer while you lost yourself in his lips. It would be a lie to say that he didn't notice every detail of your face, and you would also be a hypocrite to say that you didn't look at him a little more closely when he wasn't looking at you. But feeling the softness of those lips that were always frowning in your direction was wonderful.

Heeseung lowered his lips to your chin and kissed down to your jaw, then down to your neck, and like a damn pro, he hit exactly the spot that made your whole body shudder. Your reaction couldn't have been different, letting out a sly moan and clamping your legs even tighter around him. When Heeseung's body tightened between your legs, he instinctively moved his hips towards your, thrusting his hips to give your better friction between his legs.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging at each strand while your mouth worked wonders on his skin down to his collarbone.

He moved his hips again, this time you could feel Heeseung's semi-hard cock pressing against your pajama-clad pussy. Moaning once more, you tugged on his hair as he lifted his head to kiss you again.

It was breathtaking how he felt between your legs, taken by your lips and touching your body with his fingertips. Your waist was perfect, fitting exactly between his palms as he pressed you even tighter against him. It was Heeseung's turn to moan against your lips when you planted your feet on his lower back to press Heeseung's hips even tighter against yours, nibbling on his lower lip to catch your breath.

"Y/n" he moaned your name and you almost whimpered and asked him to rip off all your clothes and fuck you right there. Heeseung would do it for sure, you wouldn't even think of denying it because of the way he was squeezing every curve of your body and chasing his lips to kiss you again.

If it hadn't been for the incessant crying upstairs. The two of you separated for a few seconds to see if you had heard the same thing. Heeseung's eyes traveled to yours and then to the kitchen door, hearing Hajun's crying again.

With great difficulty, he climbed out from between your legs, feeling the loss of contact grow cold between his fingers as he took a few steps back and took your hand to help you down from the worktop. Heeseung looked at you a little better this time. Lips reddened and the skin on your neck the same, a few bite marks he'd left while kissing there made him smile a little sideways as he saw your eyes go down to his cock.

"Oh" Heeseung threw his oversized blouse over it, even though it only covered half of his lower body, but he couldn't stop it.

You'd even tease him about how beautiful he looked with his hair messed up – by you – and his red mouth too inviting to keep kissing. But Hajun had called your name, taking you away from all the unholy thoughts you were having in the kitchen with Heeseung.

"Shit" you turned away from Heeseung and watched him throw his head back, as frustrated as you were to get it over with as the two of you ran to the top of the stairs. Climbing each step a little faster until you entered Hajun's room and were followed by his older brother "Hey, I'm here."

"I had a bad dream, Y/n" he was crying, hugging your body quickly as soon as you sat on the edge of the bed.

You kissed the top of Hajun's head and looked at the door, beckoning Heeseung to come in too. And so he did.

"Hey buddy, are you okay?" Heeseung knelt beside the bed where you were sitting with Hajun.

"Seungie" the younger man pulled out of your embrace, this time choosing to hug his brother, "I had a bad dream."

"Do you want to tell us what it was like?" Heeseung asked.

Hajun remained quiet for a while still hugging Heeseung, probably calming down from the fright he'd had as he got out of his brother's arms and lay back on the bed. You dried the stubborn tears from his face with such a gentle touch, that it made Heeseung wonder if you would have done the same for him if you had seen him cry earlier.

What kind of fucking thought is that, Heeseung? He pushed any thoughts of this aside and focused on the scene in front of him, seeing that Hajun looked a little calmer as he sighed.

"I dreamt about my father" the mention of the man, made Heeseung's jaw clenched, and he wanted to curse himself so much for seeing that your eyes were on him now. Surely this could come up as a topic of conversation or, worse, now you could find out about his father. And that was a subject Heeseung didn't want anyone to know about.

"And do you remember what it was like?" you asked.

"Never mind, Hajun's tired—"

"He fought with me in the dream" Hajun interrupted Heeseung who was already on his feet, he didn't want to pace around while listening to his brother's dream "And then I saw him beating up Seungie and leaving the house with my favorite teddy bear."

Before Hajun could cry again, you grabbed one of his hands and kissed it.

"It was just a dream, it won't happen, Junie" trying to reassure the little boy that it would never happen was easier than you thought. He smiled at you.

"Promise you won't let it happen? That you'll look after me, but Heeseung too?"

Hajun's eyes were so pleading and piteous. You wondered if Heeseung did the same thing when he wanted something. But also, you wondered why that had been said. Why had Hajun asked you to do that kind of thing?

Your lack of words made Heeseung restless, moving from side to side until he went to the bedroom door. Perhaps you had been clear in your attitude that you were only there to look after Hajun. He just didn't know why it was bothering him so much, leaving a slight tightness in his chest. It could be because of his brother's dream, of course! That was it, wasn't it? Or was it his lack of an answer?

Heeseung didn't want to think too much, he didn't want to let anything get to him. But he was completely wrong when standing in the doorway of Hajun's room, he heard you.

"I promise, Junie."

If before it was inevitable not to look at you while you were around, now it seemed impossible for Heeseung to look away from you. Even having to spend a whole week with just you, him, and Hajun.

The boy had the vivid memory of your lips against him in that kitchen every time he saw you say something. Your mouth moved to answer something his younger brother or talk on the phone to his mother because she called and wanted to know if everything was okay. Heeseung wanted to curse himself for remembering the sounds you made and how he felt when he got between your legs. It might have sounded pathetic to any guy who said it out loud, especially if it was about you.

He'd certainly heard half an hour of Jake's lecture about what had happened, especially as he didn't dare to say much afterward.

"She thinks I'm an idiot, then?" Heeseung asked.

"More than usual? Absolutely" Jake wanted to throw anything in his hand at his friend's head, especially after he saw the gleam in Heeseung's eye when he talked about you.

It was clear that all that denial was turning into attraction and Sim knew it would, he didn't read the silly novels that Ryunjin pushed at him for nothing, something would have to do and sure enough, it was the analysis he'd done on your – unofficial – relationship with Heeseung. Something he kept quiet until his older friend opened his mouth and told him everything.

At first, the kiss had been something that had shocked Jake, after all, Heeseung couldn't spend two seconds next to you without an argument breaking out. But as he went on to tell you about the events and how he had been acting around you during that week, something in Jake clicked. It wasn't necessarily a crush, but something in Heeseung about finding you attractive or starting to take a romantic interest in you.

"That's got to be a joke, doesn't it?" Heeseung turned to Jake and then looked at Sunghoon, another friend of the two of them who always listened to the lamentations and frustrations about how Heeseung had argued – again – with you.

"Firstly, you didn't deny it at any point when Jake talked about you being attracted to Y/n ever since we arrived" Sunghoon leaned back even further in the café chair, holding back a smile when he saw his friend's eyes go wide "Secondly, you kissed her, like, do you do that with someone you can't stand?"

Heeseung wanted to say yes, that was exactly it. It would be normal to kiss someone he can't stand, right? But the question would be... Why can't he stand himself?

After keeping quiet for a while, he tried to forget how right his friends were because he didn't want to dwell on something he was struggling to forget, especially since his mother's week away was over and that meant you'd be going back home. No more seeing you at home all the time, at least not alone. This would give him time to think more calmly and put all his thoughts in order, which could make him even more confused if it were possible.

Sighing heavily after returning from university, Heeseung just wanted to throw himself on his bed and forget about all that mental confusion for the next few days. Isolate himself, do his homework, and pretend you weren't downstairs in his house. Maybe that would be easy. Maybe he could ignore it a little and try not to run around looking like an idiot in front of you because he's had a whole week, uninterrupted, to say a single word to you. But no, Heeseung couldn't.

At least he said good morning and smiled at you every day while you were with Hajun, right? You shouldn't smile back, you shouldn't make him almost scream internally because you were being nice to him.

Shit, Heeseung. You sound like a teenager, you idiot. He might even have continued talking in his head if it hadn't been for the voices coming from the living room.

Heeseung didn't want to think that he had arrived at his house after you and that he would see the scene of you fooling around with Hajun. He tried to run as far as he could when Jake gave him a lift so he wouldn't have to wait for you to get home and have lunch with you. At least not that day. But to the boy's surprise, the voices were much more different than his own.

And he knew – unfortunately – who it was.

"Look, you're here" in the old days, Heeseung would have given anything to hear that voice cheerfully after coming home from school, perhaps if he were in eighth grade again. But coming home from university with a sick feeling in his stomach, he just wanted to throw up as he looked at his father.

"Son" his mother got up from the sofa where she was, not so close to his father, and they both seemed to be having an amicable conversation before Heeseung arrived.

"What are you doing here?" he asked directly to the man who was trying to smile in his direction.

"Your father called me yesterday, he misses you and Hajun" his mother had the sweetest voice of all, and on any occasion. Heeseung wanted to ask her how she was feeling in the presence of that man. It was impossible to have such a beautiful smile and calm voice after everything he had done.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" he knew that his pent-up anger would come out somehow, he just didn't want to explode in front of his mother. At least Hajun wasn't there.

"I asked your mother to spend a weekend with you and Hajun" he took a step forward to try to get closer to Heeseung. The boy did the same, mustering the only ounce of sanity he had not to slam his fist into the man's face. Unfortunately, it was still his father.

"I won't, and you won't get Hajun out of this house."

"Heeseung" his mother called out.

"What's your problem, Mom? Really?" Heeseung turned away from his father and walked to the middle of the room to approach his mother. It was almost like a plea when he let out, "After everything he's done, you still have the nerve to let him in and allow this? No!"

"He's still your father, my son" she smiled weakly "And it's only a weekend..."

"No" he said.

The protests could continue, Heeseung knew that this discussion would be so long that they would spend hours in that room. They shouted and protested that they wouldn't leave, but the door opened quickly.

Hajun's hurried footsteps and the conversation he was having with you were the reason the three of them shut up immediately.

"I can't do without this ice cream, Y/n. Please" Hajun whined. When you laughed, it was the only thing that could make Heeseung relax his shoulders, even if he didn't want to admit it. The sound of your laughter so close up awakened something in him.

"We can go to the other side of town after you've done your homework" you said, making the little boy giggle. Okay, maybe you were right, but he'd still convince you to go across town to the best ice cream parlor you and he had visited last week.

"Dad?" Hajun was the first to enter the room, looking at the scene before him. Upon hearing this, you took a few more hurried steps behind the little boy to be equally shocked by what you were seeing.

The father of the Lee family was there, for the first time since you started babysitting Hajun. Mrs. Lee had a small smile when she saw the little boy go towards her to hug him affectionately. But what caught your eye was Heeseung's furious look. That look you knew because it was the only thing you saw all that time, except when he looked at Hajun or his mother.

So Heeseung was angry at his father, the man who was smiling at you at that moment.

"Hello, you're..." he tried to make conversation when he saw that no one would say anything.

"Oh, I'm Y/n, Hajun's nanny" you approached to greet the smiling man, smiling too. But as soon as your hand almost touched him, a strong tug on your wrist made you stagger backward.

Your eyes quickly searched for the reason to find Heeseung already looking at you.

"Come up with Hajun, please" he ordered.

"Heeseung..."

"Not now, just go up with him" he whispered when he saw that Hajun was engaged in an awkward conversation with his father and mother "And stay there as long as you can."

"Are you okay?" Heeseung didn't want to have another clash of feelings at that moment, especially with your gaze so intensely on him. So he just nodded quickly and looked away to the other three.

"Junie, go upstairs with Y/n. I heard you need to do your homework..."

"But I wanted to meet the babysitter and, well, spend some time with your brother" the older man seemed quite nice, but if that was the reason Heeseung was clenching his hands into fists, it was certainly a false front.

"Hajun, go with Y/n" was the older brother's final word, and from the way the little boy didn't even question it, you knew it was something much more delicate.

As a silent apology, Mrs. Lee waved to you and Hajun before going upstairs to the youngest's room.

"Do you want to take a shower before you start your homework?" you asked, going to his closet to get some clothes that were more comfortable than his school uniform.

Searching for some sweat shorts and a T-shirt, you turned towards him to see Hajun's eyes redden and shine. Running up to the little one, you knelt in front of him before feeling little arms encircling your neck.

"Hey, hey, hey... Are you okay?" you whispered as you hugged him, sitting down on the floor to welcome the little one into a tight embrace.

"I don't like it, Y/n... I don't like it."

"What? What don't you like?" as you asked, your hands went straight to the little one's hair to stroke it as you let him cry in your embrace.

Hajun cried silently for a few minutes, sobbing softly as he felt a little safer in your arms.

"The last time Dad was here..." he sighed between whimpers, lifting his head a little to meet your face "He and Heeseung had a nasty fight, but neither of them knows that I know."

"Your mother knows?" you asked, Hajun agreed.

It was the night the betrayal came to light that Heeseung didn't want to put his mother through all that lying to sustain a marriage that was only for her. His father had been gone for a long time, or at least trying to maintain an appearance that didn't exist.

Hajun was supposed to be asleep that night, but Heeseung's furious shouts woke him up, causing him to get out of bed and open the bedroom door with a crack. Hearing the swearing and shouting, he also heard something. It sounded like a struggle. Mrs. Lee's crying aroused Hajun's despair and he almost went downstairs to see what was going on, why Heeseung was cursing his father. Hajun had never heard his older brother swear like that.

But before he could go downstairs, his mother stopped midway with watery eyes and a silent plea for him to go back to his room.

"Stay here, okay? And don't tell them about it" Hajun knew something was very wrong because he had never seen his mother cry. And after a few minutes, the fighting seemed to stop.

The front door slammed hard and then Hajun tried to forget what had happened for so long until he only remembered after seeing his father's figure standing there in the middle of the room. They were flashes of the small event that was much bigger, and it made you even more curious because Hajun's words were few, even though they contained a lot of information since you were left in the dark when you arrived.

At least there was something to know, but it wasn't as if you needed to ask him everything either. You just wanted to protect him and you would do that, the questions could come later.

"God, dude, stop drinking" Jake whined as Heeseung poured himself another glass, ignoring his friend's protests.

"Why?" he asked "As far as I remember, we came here because I'm sad and I need to get drunk."

"Drunk is fine, but not to the point of vomiting" Jake took another glass away from Heeseung "I'm taking you away and I don't want anyone vomiting in my car."

It was a fair point, but Heeseung didn't want to make a big deal out of it. He wanted to forget the last few weeks.

He wanted to forget that, unfortunately, his father had had a shitty, friendly talk with his mother, agreeing that he would take Hajun away for at least one weekend to go for a walk or do something nice. Even if the boy's fights and constant swearing came to nothing. He knew he couldn't stop it, not legally, so as long as nothing happened to the little boy, Heeseung vowed not to speak a word to his father.

Then he became even more frustrated by your presence in his home, and this was because, as the days went by, he realized that he could feel something. Not even the slightest something for you. But what he didn't count on was the fury that went through his whole being when he saw you laughing with a boy in the university cafeteria. Heeseung hardly ever saw you there, or if he did, it was always with Ryunjin, so why did it bother him so much?

The last fact had been a state secret, none of his friends knew anything about it. So they attributed Heeseung's bad mood and sadness to the events with his father and how powerless he felt to let Hajun meet the man he hated most on the face of the earth.

"I might as well go home alone" Heeseung flashed all his pearly teeth in a childish grin when Sunghoon arrived with a few more glasses.

He was such a savior of the fatherland, making his sad friend, who just wanted to get drunk at that moment, happy.

"So why did you ask me for a ride?" Jake raised one eyebrow, smiling "Why did you say you wouldn't drive and I was supposed to take you back home?"

"Because you love me and would do anything for me" Heeseung picked up another glass and turned away from Jake to drink.

There was no point in arguing or stopping the tallest boy from drinking that night, not even Sunghoon could do it. The only way out was to surrender and let Heeseung enjoy as much as he could, even if Jake sneered every time the glass was against Lee's lips.

He wondered what the car would look like if it swayed too much while he was taking Heeseung home, or what he would look like in the back seat or even in the back if he had to take Sunghoon too.

And it was this scene that Jake found himself in, a few hours later, as he carried his two best friends out of the bar. Sunghoon was in the driver's seat to guide the way while Heeseung sat in the back seat, his legs wide apart and his head resting against the back of the seat.

Jake looked in the rearview mirror, afraid that some fluid would come out of Heeseung's mouth or that he would have to stop abruptly so that his friend would run off and vomit. But no, the journey continued normally until the three of them stopped in front of Lee's house. Meanwhile, Heeseung's mind was far away. Closed eyes had been a plague on his life for the past few weeks because every time it happened, your face would appear in his mind. It was something Heeseung tried at all costs to ignore. Something he swore to himself that if it happened again, he would have to take action.

And it was impossible not to think about you after the last scene he saw, your smile at that other boy still played like a memorized movie in his mind and even if you hadn't meant it, Heeseung had no right to feel that way. He was the one who had been a jerk to you all along, you couldn't be expected to be sweet to him about it.

"Heeseung" Sunghoon called out, turning back to touch his friend's knee. He opened his eyes slowly, getting used to the idea of seeing his friend's face and not his own in his thoughts.

"What's up?" he asked as soon as he was off the bench and sitting properly.

"We're here" Jake said, turning off the car "Do you want us to go in with you?"

A while of silence was enough for Heeseung's mind to wander even further and, without realizing it, it had already come out of his mouth without giving him a chance to regret it.

"Take me to Y/n's house."

"What the fuck?" Sunghoon almost shouted. Jake turned around abruptly, almost hitting Sunghoon head-on.

"Dude, what the fuck? Why are you asking me this?" he asked.

Really, why was he asking this? Heeseung didn't have an effective explanation for it, much less did he think he should. He just felt like it.

"I don't know, I just need to see her now and..." a long sigh came from his lips, Heeseung allowed himself to run one hand through his hair as he looked at Jake and then at Sunghoon "I need to make up for the shit I've done and tell her that I can't stop thinking about her."

"Oh" the two friends said at the same time, Jake swallowing down the urge to shout and say that it was all part of the little novel he'd written in his head about you and Heeseung. But that would be something for future conversations.

"Only if you tell me something" Jake said.

"Whatever you want to know" since everything was screwed up, there was no point in hiding anything from his best friend.

"Your father wasn't the only reason we were at the bar hours ago, was he?"

The shy smile that Heeseung tried to hide by biting his lower lip said it all, he didn't need a specific word for Jake or Sunghoon. It was clear how exactly that said that you had also been a reason, even if neither of them knew what it was.

Seeing Heeseung like that was new for the two boys sitting in the driver's and passenger's seats, so all that was left was for Jake to start the car again and drive to your apartment. Without asking Heeseung any questions about it.

But nothing stopped Sunghoon from making fun of him the whole way.

Words of encouragement were a mantra in the boy's mind who, with every step into the building where you lived, felt his whole body tremble. It was strange to be feeling this way, even more so for him who had never been this attached. Heeseung had never really thought that a girl could make him so nervous that he almost tripped over his own feet as he entered the elevator.

What could he say to you when he knocked on your door? That he wanted to see you? That would be something you wouldn't believe, even if it was the only truth he could tell you.

It made Heeseung rethink everything he'd ever said to you and the way he'd treated you since he met you. He didn't mean to be rude and he knew that it was all a reflection of what he had experienced with his father's disagreements. You, unfortunately, were the only person around and he didn't want the sight of someone new coming into his house. Because the last person to come out from under that roof had made a huge stranger in his life.

Heeseung didn't want to give in to someone like you, who came so easily into the Lee family's life and won over even his mother. The way she talked to you, the way she treated you like a member of the family. Heeseung rolled his eyes every time his mother brought the same candies, but not just for him and Hajun, she brought them for you too. Or how affectionate she was with you when you were at his house, chatting like old friends and laughing at things he didn't understand. He didn't want to understand why his mother was so happy after finding out she had been betrayed while Heeseung was suffering and disgusted by his father's image.

It was something he hadn't understood until recently. Maybe all the answers were right in front of his eyes, he just didn't want to accept it yet. So he needed to throw his hands up in the air and knock on your door right then and there, and that's exactly what he did.

He didn't know how you would react and he didn't want to, just looking at you would be enough for him to smile and walk away. Maybe apologize and say some lame excuse the next day and hope you believed his words.

Heeseung heard footsteps from inside the apartment and some mumbling that you were already on your way, indicating that you weren't ready for visitors or were far enough away to answer the door. Apprehension gripped his entire body as he took a few steps closer to hear what was going on inside.

As soon as you opened it, finishing putting on one of the sleeves of your long coat, Heeseung's world seemed to stop right there.

You were beautiful. More beautiful than he'd ever seen you before. Sharing the same roof with you for a week when his mother went away gave him the right to see you in your pajamas practically every night, but he didn't know that you looked even more beautiful in light silk pajamas and wearing a wool coat to cover your exposed arms.

"Heeseung?" your voice snapped him out of his thoughts as he looked at your face, the shock and curiosity screaming in your eyes making him feel euphoric. He didn't know what to say as he saw that you were still standing there, slightly startled by his presence.

He opened and closed his mouth for a few seconds to say something, but nothing seemed to come out. It was as if Heeseung had unlearned how to say anything because your gaze was making him shy.

When you took a step towards him, as if to get the attention of the boy in front of you, Heeseung didn't reason enough. He just raised one of his hands to touch the wool of your jacket and pulled you forward. The slow thud of your body against his made you let out a startled cry, which soon calmed down when Heeseung looked you in the eye.

"Jake gave me your address," he whispered "I needed to come here."

"Why?" your low voice sent all kinds of sensations through Heeseung's body and he wanted to be able to run away, but he limited himself. Squeezing his fingers against the wool of your jacket and loosening the fabric little by little.

"Because I want to talk to you, can we?" it was your time to deny it, tell him to go home and carry on without talking to Heeseung because a conversation with him would never end well.

But it wasn't like you to do anything you really should, so you gave him the go-ahead to enter your apartment and guide him to the sofa. Asking him to sit down before disappearing down the corridors. Just long enough for Heeseung to take off his jacket and put it on the armchair next to him, then sit down on the larger sofa and look around. Trying to get as many details as possible in case one day you asked him what he thought of your apartment.

Not that it mattered, he could say he'd need to go there more often to notice anything different. But remembering the first time you were here could be something useful and nice, perhaps.

"Here" you came back into the living room with a glass of water in your hands, walking over to the sofa where he was sitting and handing him the glass.

"Thanks" he said after taking the glass, drinking almost all the water in a matter of seconds. This was an indication of how nervous he still was after feeling your weight next to him on the sofa, the closest you'd been since the kiss you two had shared in the kitchen at his house.

Heeseung placed his glass on the coffee table and continued to stare at his own feet as he sighed slowly, clasping his hands together and playing with his fingers.

"My relationship with my father is the worst of all, and you've realized that haven't you?" you mumbled when he asked, albeit rhetorically, letting him continue his train of thought when he looked at you straight away "He cheated on my mother and ruined our family."

Oh. So that's why Heeseung was so harsh in his father's presence. And you couldn't understand how someone could betray Mrs. Lee, even if she was such an incredible woman.

"When my mother hired you, it was because she wanted to keep Hajun entertained most of the time and she knew I wouldn't be able to do that because I signed up for everything the university offered. Just so I wouldn't stay at home and have to deal with my father showing up."

Heeseung hated to lie that he had been neglectful to his younger brother about this, but he also couldn't risk bumping into his father and ending up fighting with the man in his younger brother's presence. That's when Mrs. Lee hired you as a nanny. Having someone to give the little one the attention that neither she nor Heeseung could be her priority. Someone you knew – even if you and Heeseung didn't speak to each other at the time – made the woman feel relieved because you seemed to have hit it off with the little one straight away.

"Seeing you integrate into the family made me feel angry because no one could like such a broken family with a false front" Heeseung was still looking at you, but his thoughts were a little more distant when he rambled "My mother wasn't happy when she hired you as a nanny. Hajun wasn't so happy when he met you and he only did it because my mother asked him to be nice to whoever was going to take care of him" a long sigh came from Heeseung's lips, looking away from you. "And I didn't accept that someone would be so nice to us because the last person who treated me, my brother, and my mother, so well, betrayed all of us."

You listened intently, seeing how broken Heeseung was inside your home. Opening his heart to you and asking for nothing in return.

He spoke for the first time about what it was like to have caught his father that night at the bar, how he felt the anger consume his body, and how he fought so many times until the man finally left the house. The divorce proceedings were kept under wraps because Hajun couldn't have known that something bad was going on, and your role was important in distracting him.

Heeseung admitted everything. And all the bad treatment he's given you since he met you was because he didn't know how to separate what was bad with his father, and that it shouldn't show to anyone. You wouldn't be like his father to anyone in the family, but amid the whole divorce process, you were there. Doing good for the Lee family without even knowing it.

And he didn't think he deserved it. I knew that Hajun deserved everything wonderful because he would spare his brother any bad feelings, but when you started being nice to Heeseung, he only knew how to be defensive.

You weren't supposed to greet him every time you were at home, you weren't supposed to flash smiles in his direction, let alone wave after a short answer he gave. Heeseung was rude – even for no reason – and you were still nice to him. Or at least polite. He wanted to believe that it was out of pure politeness and because Hajun was almost always around.

"I know I was a complete idiot and you never deserved that anyway" he slid his hand up to rest on your knee, feeling the slow touch of your fingers against his. Hesitantly, you took Heeseung's hand to intertwine your fingers in each other's "And that day in my kitchen..."

"We don't— Don't need to talk about..."

"I want to talk about it" he interrupted you, squeezing your fingers lightly and looking at you. This forced you to look at him too and maintain eye contact as you listened to every word Heeseung had to say "It was the day I saw my father in the bar, I left very angry."

You wanted to ask why he had gone after his father because Heeseung liked to beat himself up about it. But perhaps that was a conversation for another time, his gaze was so intent on you that all you could think about was every word he said.

"When I got home and you were in the kitchen, arguing was so unbearable that I acted on impulse when I kissed you and..." Heeseung's gaze dropped to your mouth, his Adam's apple bobbing with a dry gulp as he swallowed his saliva nervously "I didn't regret it, because I wanted it again."

"You—"

"I don't know what you did, Y/n, but I can't stop thinking about that day" neither can I, you wanted to answer, but hearing you say everything without a hint of pressure was wonderful. Maybe you'd confess later, but hearing his confession first was much better "You make me nervous, and want to kiss you every time we're near each other."

It was your turn to swallow. Heeseung was still staring at your mouth as if he were mesmerized by every detail of your lips when he felt your hand break away from his and go to the face next to you. You pulled him by the chin and felt Heeseung's breath against your skin from the sudden contact.

"We're too close now, what can you do?" you whispered.

He knew very well what to do and he wasn't going to waste any more time as he had done in previous weeks. Heeseung allowed his lips to touch yours slowly, but showing the urgency he had to feel you like that again.

You completely surrendered to the moment of having to kiss Heeseung again, this time knowing the exact moment when he asked for permission to enter your mouth with his tongue and how much slower his lips were now. Each movement was well appreciated as his hands slid down to your waist and yours ran to the back of his neck. Pulling Heeseung close, almost as if he wanted to fuse him against your body. And he would certainly do that if necessary.

But all he did was lay you back against the sofa while still maintaining the slow rhythm of the kiss, sighing against your lips as you spread your legs to accommodate Heeseung's body between them. It was a scene from heaven to be there again and in a slightly better position than sitting on a kitchen worktop. Heeseung could have sworn he cried in the middle of that kiss at being so close to you again.

Like a memory from last time, as soon as you both felt the need for air and he slid his mouth over yours, a moan came out of his throat. As sly as if he was really inside you when Heeseung kissed a specific spot on your neck.

That sound triggered something in him that, at the same moment, Heeseung pressed his hips against yours so that you could feel the full effect that just one kiss had on him.

"Hee..." you whispered as he returned with kisses all over your skin until he reached your earlobe, nibbling the skin slowly before aligning his face with yours again.

"You wouldn't be able to stop me now, would you?" he whispered back, kissing your mouth as slowly as he moved his hips against yours. It was torturous and at the same time sensual to feel Heeseung's tongue slide against yours at the same pace as he pressed his hard cock between your legs.

You moaned once more, anchoring your legs and holding his body there. Helping with the pressure and making him moan this time, biting his lower lip to break the kiss.

"You're going to be the death of me, Y/n" he gasped as he looked into your eyes. The fucking beautiful expression with the disheveled hair and droopy eyes, red mouth and chest rising and falling to normalize breathing.

"My room isn't too far from here" you pulled him back to you, feeling his lips hover over yours. Heeseung's smile widened even more.

"Good" he sealed his lips to yours "I haven't stopped wondering how this would end since the day I kissed you in that damn kitchen."

He wrapped his arms around you, lifting you off the sofa to pick you up and carry you to your room with your instructions along the way.

Heeseung just didn't know that you were also thinking about it, about to unravel all that thought.

#enhypen smut #heeseung smut #enhypen #enhypen fluff #heeseung fluff #enha smut #heeseung #enha fics #lee heeseung #enhypen heeseung #heeseung x reader #enhypen x reader #enhypen masterlist #lee heeseung fluff #lee heeseung smut #heeseung fanfics #lee heeseung x reader #heeseung imagines #bay writes.

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frogchiro · 1 year ago

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Okay so I read that gladiators could sometimes be hired to be body guards for nobel ladies and all I can think of is Gladiator! Price and a sweet little Nobel! Reader

Like imagine big, burly, hairy price following reader everwhere?? :(( even watching over her in her bedroom and the bath to "make sure she is completely safe". But really he just wants to see readers pretty soft skin in her nightgowns and smell her sweet scent after her baths.

Gladiator!Price who got hired by your father, a noble, who is incredibly protective over his youngest, only daughter. You're a young lady, just turned 20 amd he knows that the world is a dangerous place especially for someone like you so every extra step is justified in his mind.

He has seem the gladiator before in the coliseum, a magnificent warrior despite his age but this is something that only fueled his decision to hire him, a young buck would surely be a perverted degenerate who will try and rob his darling daughter's innocence and might even hurt you, so someone like John is perfect. If he only knew :((

You were kinda scared of John at first when your father introduced him as your new guard. He was a huge man, larger even than your father and much broader, his bulky body standing with his arms crossed over his strong chest, but what really got to you were his eyes. Those intense gray eyes which seemed to be fixated on you made a shiver run down your spine and made appear a shameful tightness in your belly.

You were really timid at first around the gladiator; he was mostly silent, occasional gruffy words left him but they were few and far in between. Pity. His voice was deep and low, a perfect amount of husk and growl in it to make your breath quicken but you pushed those thoughts away as quickly as they came. You should be ashamed! What would father think, what would John himself think about the fact that you have such lusty thoughts about him! All he probably sees is a naive, young noble girl with nothing better to do than go to the market to shop for luxurious fabrics and jewelery with your father's money and sew pretty patterns at home.

Well...that picture of a noble and stoic guardian fell pretty quickly the moment you stepped inside your home's private bath, a beautiful place you always liked to sit and think...but what was Price still doing here? His answer was curt: to protect you at all times. Didn't you know that while bathing you're more vulnerable than ever besides sleeping? He's your guard appointed by your father and it's his sworn duty to protect you.

Sounds reasonable and noble right? Well the feeling of his cock stirring against his armored tunic wasn't all that noble for all the shit John't is spewing. But at the end of the day John is just a man, a man with needs and urges and he can't help the fact that he got assigned to protect the prettiest little nymph he ever saw :((

Good gods what wouldn't he give to touch that beautiful, glowing skin of yours, squeeze your soft tits and suckle on your nipples, grab at your broad hips and- John's trail of thoughts was interrupted by your whining at him that it's embarrassing to undress before him, you're an unmarried lady, it's indecent! But John just scoffs and tells you in that hard, gruff tone to either get naked and hop into the milky, opaque water or go without a bath so he left you with little choice, he's so cruel :((

But on the other hand you couldn't help but decide to tease the older male a little bit, making s bit of a show of you undressing, letting the luxurious fabric of your dress slip deliciously down your body and entering the water step by step, all nice amd shy and demure and you could feel your nipples harden and your cunny get wet when you heard a low growl emanate from the gruff gladiator♡

#kin speaks #asks #interactions #gladiator!au #cod x reader #cod mw x reader #john price x reader #price x reader #captain john price x reader #captain john price

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poppy-metal · 6 months ago

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what if i said the words step dad patrick……….. fucking ur mum for a place to stay when he finds your cute little college ass and oh look! you’re into tennis! he can show you some stuff if you like, he used to play art donaldson and win………..

why would you say this to me. what have u done what have you wrought. wow this got away from me and i ended up giving us a whole backstory here my bad fr.

i imagine you're visiting home from college - a prestigious one - not excited, in the least. probably a horrible relationship with your mother, father nonexistent, out of the picture. probably got into tennis as just a hobby, but it turned into a way to channel all your anger and resentment built up towards your mother - how she never pays attention to you, how money and jewelry and the next man who'll blow smoke up her ass to leech off her, is more important to her than you are. every slam of your racket against the ball is you smashing a vase in your picture perfect mansion.

so, no, you're not happy to be coming back for the summer but all your friends are going back home and you dont want to be the one girl on campus who wont go back home - you dont want to be that girl. you're perfect over there, you're good. no one knows you hate your mother and mourn a father you dont even know the name of. no one knows you feel so alone it empties your chest out sometimes, leaves you with a pit that feels like its rotting you inside out. you're good at tennis, and you're cool and you're friendly and you have men falling all over you. they never fill that void, but its nice to feel desired. even if their age stifles you. irritates you. immaturity grinds your gears.

so, no, you're not eager to throw all that pretend and comfort away for the summer. lugging your suitcases up the pristine driveway with a scowl already in place. wondering if your mother will even notice you entering the door. probably not. probably she's already out, or making plans to be so.

anyway, you're miffed and moody and not at all prepared for when a man jogs up to you. you startle when a hand, a very tan hand connected to a strong arm - arm that has fine hair, and veins and muscles you can see - intercepts you to take the handle of your suitcase. you look up.

you look up to see the hottest man you've ever seen in your life grinning down at you. dark curls damp with sweat, heat kissed skin, freckles and seagreen eyes. tall and broad, and soaked in sweat. his tank top is practically see through, you can see through. right to his equally strong chest, which is hairy and tan looking - two twin nipples peaking, red and flushed. you throat feels dry. "uh."

"fuck, hey." he lets go of your suitcase to shake your hand. you limply let him. hes smiling at you in a practiced sort of way, almost like hes nervous. odd since hes clearly older than you. but hes trespassing, so maybe thats why. "i wanted to get cleaned up before i met you, but you're early, huh. i was just on the court - here let me."

he takes the handle of your luggage again. he seems to know you already and you squint. a familiar feeling of irritation filling you. hes not so different looking from all the help your mother has hired over the years, pool boys and yardworkers and the like. young men she could ogle. although this man does seem older - he's definitely ogle worthy. more than.

your mouth twists in a sneer. you haven't even gotten into your house and you're already dealing with your mothers shit. you can't be fucked.

"rule number one," you snap, curt, jerking your luggage back from his grip. you try to stand tall, but he still easily towers above you. no matter. you're still above him in station. "dont fucking touch my stuff."

you flick your hair behind your shoulder as you make to walk by him. you hear his sharp inhale of suprise. curious since you're definitely sure your mother has degraded him in many ways by now. he should be used to be talked down to. maybe its his first day.

he comes up in front of you again, walking backwards as you walk forwards, with a kind of ease that irritates you. he holds his hands up, placating, still smirking, which irritates you even more - "got it. got. you know she warned me about you - didn't think you'd try to bite my fucking head off so soon, though."

something in your gut sours. not new, then. your mother has spoken to.... the help, about you? this makes you uncomfortable. prickly and hot like you just found out someone had been talking shit about you behind your back. your hackles rise.

you stop in your tracks. glare at him.

"my mother spoke to you about me?"

his eyebrows - he has annoyingly smooth eyebrows, annoyingly long lashes too - lift, as if to say, 'fucking duh.' he makes a so and so motion with his hand, you glimpse a ring on one of his fingers. "here and there."

your grip around the handle of your suitcase burns its so tight. you think you could melt it with your anger if you concentrated long enough.

"and? what did the bitch say?"

a shocked laugh leaves his lips at your curse. your eyes narrow because you dont find it funny and because the longer you are around him the more you notice about him and the more attractive he noticeably is becomes apparent to you. when he lifts a hand to run it through his hair, the muscles in his arm bunch and flex under his skin - which is still very much gleaming with sweat.

"man, its fucking bad with you. the mommy issues -" he has this little smirk, one that lifts one side of his mouth more than the other. "- she said you were a fucking brat, that i shouldn't bother with trying to make a good first impression. i can kinda see why now."

yeah, you really dont appreciate his attitude. hes hot and all, but he's spoken way out of turn and you're done entertaining it. you want to go inside and flop onto your bed and scream.

you take a step forward and poke him in the chest with a manicured nail - he looks down at it, like, oh hey - sharply. "just because you have a pretty face and a big dick my moms probably sucked more than once, doesn't mean you're fuck all to me. you're still just the help. you can remember that when you're cleaning up my shit." you take your hand away, trying and failing not to smile like a bitch when his lips part in shock at your words, knocking his - fucking broad - shoulder with yours as you walk past him. you pause at the steps to turn just a little. he's looking at you with this unreadable expression, but if you'd have to guess you'd say it closely resembles amusement. "and I'd like a smoothie. have it brought up to me ASAP or I'll make your life here hell, got it?"

you raise an eyebrow.

his mouth finally snaps shut. you hate that he still looks amused. his lips just barely quirking. he works his jaw like he wants to say something but thinks better of it, biting his bottom lip instead as he looks up at you with those green eyes.

"got it."

its sometime later when you wake up. head a fucking rats nest. you've just managed to drag yourself out of bed and to the chair in your vanity, working a pink brush through what you can of your locks when your door flings open.

you dont even look up from the mirror. only one person wouldn't respect the privacy of a closed door and what it means.

"hello, mother." you say cooly, not taking your eyes from the mirror. you try to smooth the brush through your end strands first, coaxing your hair into submission. she's probably here to rub something in your face under the guise of saying hello. a new car she'd bought, a new boyfriend she has, a new vacation home she rented in malibu, ect.

her perfume fills your nostrils with its potent stench as she sashays into the room - your room - and perches her ass on your vanity, rudely jostling several trinkets there. your eye twitches. you brush some more of your hair.

"hello, my darling girl."

her voice is faux sweet. the pet name makes you want to flinch, recoil from its fake meaningfulness from her cold lips. they dont mean anything coming from her. you're not her darling anything. she'd treat a purse more fondly than you. yet, she calls you these sweet things sometimes. you think because it amuses her to play the part of a doting mother. she did always love acting.

you dont say anything more. work the brush. easy and slow wins the race. you remember when you used to be so frustrated with your hair you'd yank the brush through it in a rush, until your scalp bled from the stinging yanks. you'd lose clumps. an act of self harm, your therapist had told you. anxiety of not being perfect. you'd forgotten to put hair serum in your hair to make it easier to deal with before you'd fallen asleep. you shouldn't forget such things. your meeting with that man had rattled you.

"i have some wonderful news."

your mother drums her fingers on your dresser. you imagine her fingers as a witches, long and spindly. no amount of cream and lotion could hide her aging. that made your lips quirk.

"oh? what is it?"

"I've met someone."

not new. you barely restrain the urge to roll your eyes. brush some more hair. you've worked mid way to the top now. almost to the roots.

"have you." you couldn't sound more bored if you tried. really, you couldn't.

"i have." she lets out a swoony breath - "oh, hes wonderful, darling. he's different from the others. treats me like a woman ought to be treated - not that i expect you to know - and its going so well."

you've heard it all before.

"why, he's asked me to marry him!"

you hairbrush stills. you look at your mother for the first time. shes beaming. you feel sick all at once when you look down to her hand - see the ring she's flashing at you, gaudy and dramatic.

"i bought it for myself, of course. he's not the richest man - but he's wonderful! I'd like you to meet him - "

your memory flits back to hours ago, when the man you'd assumed was the help had lifted his arm, hand sifting through his hair and you'd caught a flash of something around his finger - silver in constant with his tan skin - a ring.

your lips part at the same time your brush snags on its first tangle, and footrests, heavy, thumping, a mans, approach your room. your mothers puttering is like static to you now, your eyes flitting from her to the door - and there he is. filling your doorframe. leaning against it with a kind of confidence like he belongs there. like the house is his.

"- eet patrick zweig." your mothers voice comes back to you. you imagine her mouth splitting open from how wide shes smiling - teeth flashing at you like a horse. "my husband. your new stepdad!"

she leans back against him and he wraps and arm around her easily. drops a kiss to her stiff hair, but he doesn't take his eyes off you when he does. everything about him is screaming cat that got the cream. his eyes are twinkling. his cheeks dimpling with a barely hidden grin.

"and." your mother claps. so fucking full of energy, the old bat. "he plays tennis!!! isn't that the most beautiful thing - he used to play with that - oh whats his name, honey -"

"art donaldson." patricks voice is thick and smooth. easy like syrup. he's still looking at you. pinning you with his gaze like you're one of those taxidermied bugs with its wings splayed open on display. "yeah, we used to play together. beat him a couple times."

"him, yes! oh, i told him all about your crush. dont flush, sweetheart, you had his posters in your room! and i thought- wouldn't it just be so fun if patrick and you trained together during the summer! oh, i know I've just been a mess over the years." she puts a hand to her heart - where it would be if she had one, that is - "bringing men in and out of our home. i can only imagine how lost you've felt without a proper male figure in your life. well, no more."

she pats patricks chest. hes opted out of a tank top for a soft cotton top. it hugs his frame too well.

"patrick here is all the father figure you'll need. thing's are really going to change around here, button. we'll be a family."

"a family." you echo, hollow.

"of course." patrick nods. he wants to grin so fucking had you can tell. "oh - and here you go - " he hands you a smoothie he'd been holding, you take it numbly. humiliation burns through you at the memory of how you'd talked to him before. when you'd assumed he was the help. "- that smoothie you wanted."

you stare at him. not sure what to make of any of this. your pride is shot to shit, you're embarrassed, you're angry, you're you're you're -

"and dont worry, babe." he jostles your mother under his arm. he's still. looking at you. you can see what the emotion was now - from before - worse than amusement. fucking glee. he's eating this shit up. "we'll get along just fine. won't we?"

no. no you absolutely fucking wont.

but saying that wont get you anywhere. not just yet. you set your smoothie down and try to smile. it feels wooden. this feels like a chess game suddenly, and hes knocked down one of your knights. and you have to try not to fucking scramble as you jump to defend your queen.

"sure." great move. real intimidating. that'll show him.

"yeah." he smiles at you - kisses the side of your moms head. "why don't you get dinner started, hm?"

you try not to gape as your mother preens and flushes like a housewife. your mother cooking. in the kitchen? preforming labor? doing tasks? willingly? you watch her flit out the room in a daze, wondering if fairies are real and one of them has bodysnatched your mother.

its just patrick and you now. the air in the room thickens with that fact, and you swallow. you've never felt this out of place. never felt so blindsided. not in awhile. you'd made sure of that. taken deliberate steps to adorn armor to prevent yourself from feeling this way. from feeling small. from feeling like the barely adult that you are, freshly nineteen and still so fucking confused and raw and scrambled about everything in your life. not at all like the 30 something in front of you who is a fucking man. a full adult. a full frontal lober. who's been through shit, you can tell, by the callouses on his palms, the hair on his body, his stubble, and the enormity of him in your space. in your little girl room that's still all pink ribbons and plushies on your bed and fairy lights strewn everywhere. he feels like the big bad wolf leering down at your straw fucking house, seconds away from blowing that shit to the ground.

you say nothing.

he crosses his arms and takes his time looking at you. you feel every touch of his eyes on your body, suddenly aware of how little you're wearing. just a sheer nightgown. you feel your nipples pebbling under the fabric that's definitely fucking see through and swallow.

"so."

he lets that hang in the air.

and what can you fucking say? you haven't had the time to recalibrate. you hairs still a mess.

"so.... what?"

you want to stand up - make the playing feild more even except thats a fucking joke because hes taller than you regardless. you feel pinned to the spot anyway, your muscles locked in place in your little chair. like you haven't been given permission to move. its the oddest feeling.

"she's right you know." he tells you, and he eases off the door frame, comes closer so you have to crane your neck up to look up at him. you feel demeaned. and yet, you dont look away. "things are different around here - they have been for awhile now."

you find some semblance of your fucking fire. try to hold your little straw house together. glare up at him.

"you can swing your dick around all you want and make my mom cook and clean for you but you're not the boss of me. you're not my dad."

he just looks at you. folds his lips together. his tongue peeks out to run against the front row of his teeth, wolfish.

the lean in is so jarring you nearly fall out of your chair. you do let out a squeak, jolting as your space is invaded suddenly by him, his arms braced on either side of you, one gripping the neck of your chair. his breath smells like spearmint and the chain around his neck swings back and forth as he gets in your face.

he straightens back up. casually like he didn't just rock your whole world off its fucking axis.

"you think I haven't dealt with you before? i fucking was you - spoiled little rich kid with mommy issues and no fucking daddy. s'that why you think you can stick your fucking nose up at me? dont try to play the game with the man who wrote the fucking rulebook. your display back there at being a big girl was cute, I'll give you that, but it ends there. this is my fucking house now. my fucking rules. and as long as you want to park your polished little ass here in your princess castle you'll listen to me." he does grin then, "I'm your daddy now."

"we cool?"

what can you do?

"we're cool."

he just blew your fucking straw house down.

#ask #frens <3 #and. the match begins #WHATS READERS NEXT MOVE I WONDER I WONDER #patrick zweig x reader #no smut bc i ended up getting lost in the sauce w backstory and lore and tension #challengers x reader #challengers #patrick zweig

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aangelinakii · 2 months ago

Text

LIAR, LIAR.

— would i lie to you, baby?

summary : in a world where it's impossible to lie to your soulmate, you think you've finally met your match.

note : halfway through i got stumped on where to go with this so it kind of begins to lack quality as you go further soz guys

they say it's impossible to lie to your soulmate. being a cat burglar, you lied to everybody you met, never found a soul worth being honest to. in fact, lying had never been something you had a problem with.

until you met the bat.

thinking back on it, perhaps you should have been more thoughtful about secretly infiltrating bruce wayne's office in the middle of the night.

it had been a bucket list hit; unsure what you'd find, but knowing you'd find something.

until the alarm went off. where it had been, where you'd hit it, you didn't know. you'd blown powder into the office, no hidden lasers. you'd been careful touching anything before you could find the trap out of it.

turns out the entire office was the trap.

when the alarm began to blare, it didn't take long for back-up to show; not when it's bruce wayne's name involved.

and that's how you found yourself cuffed to a table in the gotham city police department, tapping your booted foot impatiently against the tile. it wasn't your first time in one of these things, but you always had your way of getting out.

the door behind you opened, and a heavy footstep hit the ground, causing your ears to perk up. with each step, the officer came closer, slower than any you'd ever met; each step more demanding. didn't know they were hiring.

but as the figure slumped down opposite you, you realised why they had left you alone for so long.

dark, a great contrast to the pale walls, tall. behind that mask, his eyes bored into yours, and all confidence drained from your pores like the pull of a plug.

there was no way you could lie to this man.

"i assume you know why you're here," his dark, gravelly voice thundered, sending a wrack of shivers down the line of your spine.

no, i was simply testing mr wayne's security system for him. you can ask him if you need. bringing in the names of the big people tended to do the trick, shut 'em up.

"yes." when you spoke, your voice wasn't your own; small, uncertain, truthful.

your hands clenched into fists, cuffs digging into your wrists, and molars ground together in the back of your mouth. what were you saying and why were you saying it?

"what were you planning to do in bruce wayne's office?" from behind his midnight mask, his dark eyes narrowed, and the lower part of his face — the only part visible — pulled into a heavy frown.

before you could even think about lying, the words flooded past your lips, and it was evident it was unexpected, from the way your eyes widened, and you flinched against your restraints.

"find something. anything." batman leaned in, eyebrows furrowing behind his mask. "don't know what he's hiding, but i know he is. a man like bruce wayne always has something to hide."

"he does," the bat responded almost too quickly, frame flinching slightly, so small you could miss it. he pulled away, sitting back in his metal chair, lips trembling beneath the cowl, like he was trying not to say something that was right on the tip of his tongue.

before you could ask any more, the shadowy bat rose to his boots, gloved hands firm on the table.

"what are you doing?" he asked, deep voice owning a barely-there tremor, and he balled his gloves into fists so tight his knuckles were probably ashen beneath them.

with a curt shake of your head and a crease of your brows, you gave a scoff. "what am i doing? i'm not doing anything. what's your problem?"

his firm gaze settled on you for a few long beats more. "tell me your real intentions at bruce wayne's office tonight," he repeated, some sort of desperateness in the undertone of his words.

"i already told you," you huffed back, making no effort to disguise your annoyance. "i just wanted to snoop around. i knew i'd find something. what makes you think i'm lying?"

"i don't think you're lying." now when he spoke, his voice was soft – vulnerable? "i just needed to..."

despite the batman's tall stature, one sigh seemed to cause him to deflate, and he stepped away from the table.

"i will discuss with the commissioner what should be done with you."

and he slammed the door behind him, leaving you alone in the gcpd's interrogation room, much more confused than you had intended to be when you were first brought in.

it was as if he knew something you didn't.

#aangelinakii #dc #dc comics #dc reactions #dc imagines #dc headcanons #dc universe #bruce wayne #batman #batman imagines #bruce wayne headcanons #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne imagines #soulmate au

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dragongirlpoet · 2 months ago

Text

Corrupt

Sylus x reader (not mc)

I changed the title fyi

Synopsis: Feared, ruthless and agonisingly attractive, Sylus infuriates you like no other. Yet, you work for him. As you immerse yourself in a life of vice with the Onychinus leader, you soon uncover secrets darker than the shadows he wields. Perhaps, just perhaps, you got more than what you bargained for…

Themes: Enemies to lovers, angst, sexual tension, slow burn, violence I Words: 2.1k I Semi made-up lore/cultural facts

“Drinking on the job? Tsk, that’s the third infringement on company policy you’ve made tonight, kitten.”

He took a sip of his whisky — aged in sherry cask, distilled just right with spherical ice. It was how he liked it. I knew, because I was having the exact same drink — his choice of poison at every revel, every meeting, every reclusive night alone.

Sylus threw me a derisive look, cherry eyes surveying me over the glisten of his glass.

“Intentions become more blatant, after a drink or two. Or in your case, five.” I challenged the man who’s kept me hired for the past year.

I was grateful. My work at the Hunters Association had turned trite. Clockwork really, — detect Wanderers, eradicate them, aid the wounded. Righteous, lawful, and so…moral.

My heart had staged a mutiny long before my mind resolved for change. And so I left my woe of comfort and dived into the hellfires of felony. He had found me scavenging for Protocore fragments in the N109, attempting to make my mark with abysmal self-made weapons.

Trinkets — Sylus had called them. Indeed I was a stray cat vagrant in the dominion of vultures.

The leader of Onychinus circled me as I downed my glass, eyebrow cocked at my words. His handsome face gave nothing away — a classic Sylus signature.

“Dance with me?”

A loaded question. One with threat and agency lurking beneath.

I took his outstretched hand and let him whisk me into the centre of the dapper nightclub — exclusive, accessible only to the most premier, and despicable, of criminals.

Sylus was one of them.

With expert grace, he spun me into an embrace, one gloved hand intertwined with mine, the other at my waist. Our steps fell in harmony with each other at once, like missing chords finding solace in a melody.

“So? What have you heard? You seemed thoroughly engaged with that halfwit over there…” his words trailed away as his gaze dipped to my silver dress. Being his right hand had me acquainted with his quirks — sometimes endearing, more so disturbing.

The subtle smirk dissipated as soon as it came.

“They have ties with the Ever Group. Something about a nitrogen spectrum…a capsule…Kenshi and his men have been on the hunt for it for a whi…”

“You look divine in this dress. I had it picked out just for you. Do you not like it?” his impertinence interrupting my mid-sentence.

I huffed a breath. “It works similarly to a Protocore, quite li…”

“Damask rose, isn’t it? With a hint of honeysuckle…out of all my spies…” he lowered his head, “you’re my favourite scent.” A roguish smile accompanied the wanton glint he cast into my eyes.

It had always been like this. Sylus would send me on missions, most times by his side. I was never granted the elucidations of tasks, only that I’d to “act as good bait…suss out whatever information you can…kill if you have to…”

I would probe, and he would reply with a curt, “Not safe. Just do as you’re told.” It was in those moments where I thought I’d witnessed fragility in his demeanour. He would catch on, and he would put on his mask of aloof and asshole, like right now.

I rolled my eyes, vexation apparent on my features. Sylus seemed content that he got under my skin. Not giving me a chance to reply, he twirled me around, the warm velvet of his coat now a flaming singe against my bare back. So that’s why he chose this dress…

“Come on, don’t look so incensed. I heard you. You’re doing a fantastic job, kitten. Always giving me what I need.” The last word came out huskier than intended beside my ear.

The club was cold. Sylus was conceited. It was a perfect match. As much as I abhorred his arrogance, I welcomed the warmth of his body to mine.

I remembered defrosting at my fireplace after I’d been caught in a snowstorm. I had sat there for hours, letting the crackling heat appease my frozen limbs. It felt nice, comforting. And with Sylus’ arms now wrapped around me — he was my fireplace.

“I’m just trying to make this spy business enjoyable for us both. Even if you’re unhappy, at least act it. After all, you’re good at pretending, right?”

There was an edge to his words.

“I saw how you brushed his hand… that spineless leech….unless you were thinking of fucking him tonight?” His hiss was loud enough for the crowd close to us to hear. They turned, throwing us looks of disdain and outrage. I doubted Sylus realised how hard his fingers were digging into my skin.

Cheeks flushed both from the whisky and his risky display of assertion, I shot him a warning glance. “You’re insane, Sylus.”

“So quit then. But do it later, not now, not while everyone’s watching. I don’t want an audience I didn’t ask for.” He was taunting me again, wholly unfazed by the almost furore.

How much did he drink tonight?

Maybe it was the alcohol, but I was in no mood to counter his transgressions. Instead, I snaked my arms back, cradling his neck, fingers threading through his silver head of hair. Sylus stiffened at my touch, likely taken aback by my insolence.

Soulful, sensual beats reveberated through the club, patrons — descendants of the devil themselves, wives, mistresses — all caught up in the fervour of the music. Couples were fondling and kissing on the monochrome floor. And well, I didn’t find a reason why I shouldn’t join the hedonistic heist.

So into his body I pushed mine. Gripping my hips with his right, his left hand slipped down to my abdomen, tracing the lining of my underwear. As I let my head fall back into his chest, his own came lower to nudge my face, burying his nose in my temple. A flutter flushed in my core.

There was a sort of courtliness to the way Sylus moved, a kind of elegance you could find only in Kings and Queens. Yet the way he was guiding my hips to sway in rhythm to his held such lewdity. To the frolicking outlaws here, we looked very much the part of reigning besotted lovers — timeless, transcendent.

Enthralled by the song and how Sylus was spooning me like I was his revered ruby, I ground myself indulgently against his leather pants. He grew hard at once, length prodding at my back.

Our combined excitement was short-lived, though. The silver dress he gifted me caught in the buckle of his belt, hiking the silk up. My black panties were exposed in wondrous glory, earning hungry looks from the men around.

The Onychinus kingpin tugged my dress down immediately, struggling slightly at the fabric fastened to his metal. His reflexes were swift as the time I aimed a loaded gun at him.

A loaded gun, one that was now hoisted towards the crowd. He really was insane.

“Look away, or I won’t hesitate to blow your brains out.” His decree thundered over the booming of the speakers.

Several men smirked, others pretended to ease back into their cavorting. Assault, drugs, murder — it was just another night here at the N109. Being threatened with a revolver? — A mere parlour trick.

But perhaps that was what Sylus wanted to let on. “Never reveal your hand. Remain powerful by appearing meek.” That was the first lesson he had taught me.

“Sylus…careful…you could’ve put us in jeopardy…” I cast a concerned glance his way, only to find him polishing his pistol with his coat, his face a nonchalant calm.

His tone however, was one of annoyance, as if reprimanding a child. “I wasn’t fond of the little show you just put on.”

I put on a show? He was the one who…I sucked in a breath to abstain from an outburst. He was getting on my last nerve.

Pretending the best I could, I instead riposted, “Oh no, it’s not for them. I put these on just for you.”

Two could play at that game.

I watched the silver-haired devil pin me with his gaze, the dark of his pupils rising up to swallow me whole.

“I ought to punish you for violating company rules. Seems you’re breaking many of them tonight.”

“That’s why you hired me in the first place, isn’t it? I don’t play by the rules.”

There was a pause. The music seemed to fade out into a distant void, drowning the chatter along with it. Strobe lights danced around his face, illuminating the reds of his eyes. His right iris appeared to…glow?

A faint disorientation overcame me. In between blinking and regretting what I said, though, I thought I noticed Sylus inch closer — as if a subtle act of want. Only I had the privilege, or burden, to be sentient of his every complexity.

I regarded his stare as they roved over my eyes, my lips, closing the space between us…

“I want to go home.” I muttered.

Sylus straightened himself. If he was peeved, I couldn’t tell.

—

The ride on his motorcycle was spent in silence, save for the roaring of his modified exhausts. I refused to hold him, choosing instead to grab onto the fairing of the tail. So was another night of ambiguous motives and aimless flirtations, one in which I had grown increasingly restless.

“Why is everyone looking for the spectrum?” I asked at a traffic stop.

Silence.

“How is it even related to a Protocore? What’s so danger…”

“You really should hold on to me. I can’t risk my best spy falling off…” once again disregarding my questions, crimson eyes glaring at me through his side mirror.

“What is wrong with you? It’s been a year! And yet you don’t trust me enough with details of your dealings?” I yelled over the muffle of my helmet, my own voice ringing in my ears.

A low rumble sounded in the distance, quite like skyscrapers being blown apart by covert dynamites. The loud whirring of Sylus’ motorcycle remained, the combined knells throwing us into a pit of trepidation.

“Kitten.”

I knew that tone.

Drawing out my gun, I swung myself off the bike and fired. The Protocore-infused bullet buried itself in the recesses of a Wanderer, shredding its power source, erupting shards of alloy projectiles. Some of the pieces lodged themselves into other Wanderers, causing them to convulse violently, teetering on the brink of destruction.

Behind me, Sylus fended off several monsters, his Evol wrapping ominous tendrils around their form. In a mere furl of his hand, they disintegrated into dust, leaving clouds of ash in their wake.

My weapon was formidable enough, having been altered with a Zenith Core — a deviant design forged by Sylus himself. “I made this just for you,” he had surprised me in my first month of training. “It’ll keep you safe. Though you’ll always be so long as I’m around.”

Another shot was fired, this time by Sylus, barrel of his gun aimed over my shoulder. The creature at my back let out a piercing snarl before it crumbled into pieces. Our eyes met at once, the animosity from earlier now a muted thrum.

Hostility, however, chose to emerge in a different form — more Wanderers. Hoards of them. I spotted Foulwings and Magma Knaves, both species not known to spawn here.

I unsheathed my blade, but we were ringed in. Their screeches and grunts enveloped the night, like a fathomless blackhole draining all levity.

“There’s too many of them. We need to leave now.”

In a swift grab of my arm, Sylus tugged me into a whirl of nothingness. Red and black sworls engulfed us, and the last thing I remembered was being thrust in such nauseating force that I blanked out.

—

“Kitten. Kitten, wake up.”

I’d have recognised that voice anywhere.

Sylus was staring at me, hints of distress plain in his electric eyes. I was propped up against his arms in the middle of an empty street. It looked familiar, but not quite. Dim streetlamps cast an unearthly glow to the pavements, their shadows prostrate like spindly entities on a night prowl.

The buildings were far from towering ones in Linkon and the N109, carved instead, out of bricks and stone no more than five stories tall. Rickety signboards flickered on and off, as though a visual alarm to caution that we were not welcomed here.

“Sylus, where are we?”

A deep sense of rue loomed over his face.

“N109 Zone.”

“120 years in the past.”

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 1 month ago

Text

The Dark Lord (Part 2)

Summary: The reader's been tasked with devising a way of getting Sam out from under the grasp of Demon King Crowley by The Dark Lord. But Dean isn't exactly what the world thinks he is and his hiring of the reader might not be so simple...

Part 1

Pairing: Dark Lord!Dean x employee!reader

Word Count: 4,200ish

Warnings: language, curses

A/N: Welcome back to this one! There's so much going on in this part that will fill in some gaps. I'm keeping this a two parter mini-series for now but maybe someday there could be more. Please enjoy!

_______

Dean POV

“Why hello, Lord Winchester,” said Donna with a bow and shit eating grinning. I narrowed my eyes as she shut the door to my office. “However may I serve you today oh fearsome one?”

“Fuck off,” I said with a smile, flipping her the bird. She still wore a giddy smile, sliding into the chair opposite my desk. “I believe it was security that came up with the Protocol for when we have a new employee, hm?”

“If I have to call you Lord one more time, I’m jumping off the terrace,” she said, crossing her legs and pulling her laptop from her bag. “Besides, that protocol isn’t a hard and fast rule. She’s not a spy.”

“She could be.” Donna rolled her eyes, clacking away at the keys. “She was stealing from me so she’s not so innocent.��

She scoffed. “She stole some fucking asthma medication for her kid brother cause she got canned from her old job so she lost her health insurance, all because she wouldn’t sleep with her scumbag ex-boss. Yeah. She’s a real hard ass.”

“Did you do what I asked?” I tilted my head, Donna sighing. “I’m not going to kill him. Just ruin his life.”

“An anonymous tip will go out to authorities next week,” she said. “Wasn’t exactly hard to find the tax fraud and payoffs.”

“As I expected. So, how’s she doing?” Donna shrugged, typing again. “Come on. She barely talks to me.”

“Yeah, cause you scared the shit out of her. She’s freaking out trying to come up with a plan to get into Crowley’s place.” I breathed deeply. “Isn’t she moving in today? Why don’t you go drop the charade and help her.”

I pursed my lips, eyes darting to the window. “She only got caught at the warehouse because one of the guards twisted his ankle in the parking lot and she went to help him. We wouldn’t have seen her at all which means that girl is hiding something.”

“Magic,” said Donna. I hummed, a bird flapping by. “There isn’t any in her bloodline from what we saw.”

“Do you remember why everyone calls me the Dark Lord?” I asked. Donna’s lips parted, her gaze averting. “There’s ways of having magic without being born with it and we both know it.”

“Can…can you do what she did? Sneak in and out of places without being seen?” I shook my head, Donna closing her computer, narrowing her eyes. “Oh, Dean.”

I turned my attention back to her, Donna frowning. “What?”

“You want her to sneak in and get Sam, don’t you? You’re going to risk some poor woman that worked in accounts payable her whole life just so-” I held up a hand, Donna still pouting.

“I want her to teach me how to do that. However she got in, I need to understand it and once I do, I alone will get Sam back.”

“How do you know you can do what she did?” Donna asked. I frowned, standing up. “Dean.”

“I just do, okay? I need to go. Can you handle the latest shipments?” She nodded, her eyes far too concerned. I tried to smile but it came out flat. “Just…trust that I know what I’m doing?”

“Don’t do anything stupid,” she said.

I gave her a curt nod before I was gone, swallowing thickly as I walked the halls towards the far end of the grounds where personal quarters were.

Nothing stupid. Right.

Y/N POV

“Careful!” you said as Kyle rushed around your new townhouse that afternoon. It was modern, yet cozy, warm and inviting. It was by far the nicest place either of you had ever lived. Coming fully furnished didn’t hurt either.

A knock at the door made you jump, Kyle rushing past you to open it. “Kyle-”

He ripped it open, Dean standing there dressed in a red flannel and dark wash jeans.

“Hello, I’m Dean,” he said, Kyle holding out a hand.

“Kyle Y/L/N,” he said back, Dean smiling as he shook it, his gaze oh so briefly finding yours in the background and god, your heart leapt at the sight. That man was hot when he was brooding but he looked downright sinful when he was grinning ear to ear.

“Allow me to properly introduce myself then. Dean Winchester although you probably know me in town as The Dark Lord.” Kyle dropped it immediately, Dean clasping his hands behind his back. “Really? Do I seem that scary?”

“Y/N says not to talk to strangers.”

And he proceeded to shut the door in Dean’s face.

“Kyle! That’s my boss!” You rushed over and ripped the door open, Dean chuckling when you did so. “I am so sorry.”

“It’s alright,” said Dean, Kyle tucked away behind your back now. He peered around you, giving Kyle a small wave. “That is good advice your sister gave you about strangers. You know, I wish I had a big sister when I was growing up. My life would have turned out very differently if I had someone watching my back.”

“Don’t you like being The Dark Lord?” he asked, coming around your side. You nodded and let Dean inside. He took a few steps before squatting down, letting Kyle tower over him. Dean tilted his head, looking boyish for a moment.

“Not really,” said Dean, Kyle’s eyes going wide. You kept your face expressionless but were surprised by that admission. “Outside this place, people think I’m the bad guy. I’m sure you’ve heard all the stories about how I’m a monster in a skull mask and cloak, running around killing anything that moves.”

Kyle nodded, Dean resting his elbows against his knees, sinking back into his heels.

“I used to live in town with my parents and brother. We were normal. We didn’t even have any magic in our family. When I was four though, a bad man came to my house.” Dean’s gaze fell down to the hardwoods, his jaw twitching. “He hurt my mom and tried to hurt my brother who was only a baby. It was King Crowley.”

“What happened?” he asked. Dean looked up at you though, your eyes following the thin trail of black that rose up from between his shoulder blades, curling all around the room, your eyes darting after it. Kyle looked at you strangely. “What are you looking at?”

“You don’t see…” Dean rose to his feet, the black trail curling all around your body, swirling and pulling away, stopping with a pointed look at your chest. “What are you doing?”

“King Crowley turns out was there looking for me. He knew of a curse, a powerful one. He placed it on myself and intended to place it in my brother. But my dad stopped him before he could touch Sam. Then, well then we left town.”

The smoky mist curled around Kyle, ruffling his hair without him noticing.

“See Kyle, this curse? It only works if put on soulmates. Sam is one of mine but people have lots of soulmates. So Crowley cursed another one of mine eventually and that day, I got my powers. Incredible power, power that when working with my soulmate would be unstoppable. King Crowley isn’t happy though. I was too strong when he tried to capture me, control me. So he went after my brother to try and place the curse on him too to control us. To have power.”

Dean’s trail moved from Kyle to tuck under your chin, yours lifting on instinct. His eyes followed the movement, lip quirking.

“I never wanted to be scary but it’s the only thing that keeps Crowley from coming here and trying to hurt the people I care about again. Reputation is powerful,” said Dean, clasping Kyle on the shoulder. “There’s a few kids playing a game of soccer down past the housing quarters on the greens. Maybe you want to go check it out while I help your sister finish unpacking?”

Kyle looked at you, optimism in his eyes.

“Alright,” you said, grabbing your phone off the front table and handing it to him. “I want you home by six at the latest, understand? And no leaving the grounds. And Kyle?”

“What?” he groaned, already rushing to put on his sneakers.

“Have fun,” you said, Kyle scooting outside not five seconds later. Dean watched him take off, humming before he stepped back inside the townhouse.

“Cute kid,” said Dean, his smoke trail spinning all around you. “Reminds me of Sam.”

“What the hell is that?” you said, nodding to where the trail stopped, pointing at you. Dean shrugged. “Is that because I’m magic?”

“You’re not magic, Y/N. I just told you. Crowley put a curse on me.”

“You said that already.” Dean’s black misty trail pushed forward, pressing forward, stopping at your chest. You stared down, breath hitching. “What are you doing?”

“You don’t use your powers often. You’d be more in tune with sensing others if you did,” he said, gently resting the tip against your skin. You glanced up, Dean cocking his head. “Do you remember the part where I said he cursed another, Y/N? A soulmate of mine. It’s not hard for a man dealing with demon magic like him to find out those sorts of things. So. If you don’t have magic in your blood yet you have powers…powers that allow you to see my also non-magical powers…that makes us…”

You blinked, holding up your hands. “Wait. No. No there’s not way you and me are…”

“So you didn’t eye fuck me the first time we met?” Your cheeks flushed, eyes darting away. “Y/N. Come on. Let’s stop pretending and be realistic.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “What exactly does that mean?”

Dean ran a hand through his hair, letting his hand drop slowly. “It means…it means teach me how you broke into my warehouse so I can get Sam back. After that…we’ll figure that out if Crowley doesn’t catch me.”

You took a few steps away, putting your back to him.

“Why does Crowley want our power? He’s never come near me. Something doesn’t add up.” There was a presence behind you, causing you to turn and face Dean who had come closer. “Unless he found out after the fact our powers aren’t that same and decided he only needs yours.”

Dean held up a finger pointing it in your face. “You…have good points. He really never came after you ever?”

“Not that I know of.” You hesitated, Dean tilting his head. “Your powers…what do they do?”

Dean took his turn to move away now, slipping past you into your kitchen. He splayed his palms on your kitchen island, shoulders sagging.

“Think of them as…being like the offense on a sports team. They can attack, control, move things.”

“I can’t do that,” you said quietly. You went to the kitchen sink, turning the water to hot, too hot. Meanwhile, Dean eyed you, steam billowing against the cold metal basin. “Just…watch.”

After a beat, you placed your hand under the water, Dean rushing around the island. You held up a hand, his gaze drifting down to where the water rippled over your skin. “It doesn’t hurt me, Dean. Your powers are like offsene? Well, mine are defense I’m pretty sure. It’s like I get a bubble around me.”

Dean reached around you, turning off the water before handing you a hand towel from the counter. He tilted his head, biting his bottom lip.

“You don’t think you can show me how you do that?” he asked. You sighed. He took the towel back when you finished wiping your hand off, one of his black smoky tendrils wrapping around it, holding it up. “Maybe you can try one of my powers first. Can you take the towel?”

With a frown, you concentrated on trying to pluck it away from him but all you managed was to make the bubble around your hand larger, wrapping it around the two of you. Dean looked up and over his shoulder, pouting when he glanced at the misty dome encompassing you.

“You may have a point about us having different powers,” said Dean, touching a finger to the barrier. “Why would Crowley take Sam then?”

“Same reason as always. To get to you. If he kept Sam, he could make you use your powers for whatever he wants. Mine aren’t all that useful to a guy like that. It’s probably why he’s never bothered me.”

“Why curse you then?” he asked. You shrugged, pulling the bubble away and swallowing.

“Maybe the powers don’t work unless both people are cursed? But I guess that doesn’t make sense. I’m younger than you quite a bit,” you said. He scoffed.

“Quite a bit? I’m barely forty, little shit,” he said, breathing deeply. “...Although I don’t remember doing anything with my powers until I was older. Maybe eight, seven?”

“So you couldn’t actually do anything until I was cursed as a baby too.” You leaned back against the counter, Dean settling back against the island with crossed arms. “I’m sorry, Dean. I don’t think I can teach you how to do what I do. I don’t even think about it. It just happens.”

“I understand that feeling,” he said, closing his eyes. “I’ll figure out another way to get Sammy out.”

“Setting aside the fact we are…soulmates for now,” you said slowly, Dean cautiously meeting your gaze, “I don’t think this plan stops at getting Sam back. Crowley will just come after him again.”

“You sound like you have an idea.” You pressed your lips into a thin line. “Let’s hear it. I hired you to brainstorm this stuff so I’ll take anything at this point.”

“Well, I think we need to figure out what Crowley wants. He’s all powerful so why does he need your power specifically? Crowly rules The Dark Lands. He’s eons old and doesn’t bother humans. So what on earth could he need you for and why now? He had plenty of opportunities to grab Sam over the years. He must be on some kind of deadline. What’s that tell us?” Dean straightened, eyes wide.

“Holy shit. I can’t believe I’ve never thought of that,” he said, reaching out and cupping your cheeks in his hands, planting a fast kiss on your lips. You barely felt it before he pulled back, licking his lips. “You’re a genius, little thief.”

“Uh, thank you?” He started to jog away for the front door, your throat clearing. “We’re not going to talk about the whole kissing thing just then?”

He froze, spinning around with a smile. “Couldn’t help myself. I uh, I know what Crowley wants I’m pretty sure. I’ll stop over tonight.”

“Dean-” But he was already out the door, jogging towards the main building. “Be careful, ya big idiot.”

Two AM

You jumped awake from your chair on the porch when you heard a car door shut. Dean’s muscle car was in front of the townhouse, his long legs carrying him up the front steps into the light. His eyes were dark, tired, but you saw no injuries on him.

“You worried about me or something?” he teased, sitting down slowly in the seat next to you. A long breath left his lips, his eyes closing. “You back to being terrified of me? Or is it just the nerves of being next to your soulmate?”

“I don’t like cocky guys,” you huffed, Dean chuckling, peeling his eyes open to smirk at you. “I don’t.”

“Yeah, you do.” He tilted his head. “It’s flattering really. You’re fated to be with The Dark Lord. You like a bad boy, don’t you.”

“You’re insufferable,” you said. You got up, taking the blanket wrapped around your shoulders with you. “Did you come here to flirt or what?”

“Always so serious,” he said, looking you up and down. “You have anything to eat? I’m starving.”

“Don’t you have your own home?” He hummed. “Why are you here?”

He stood, cupping the back of your neck, pulling you into a deep kiss. You rose up on your tiptoes, black smoke curling around your body and holding you in a tight embrace. God he was so…gentle? His large hands were holding you, grasping, tugging, yet his lips were slow, soft, teasingly playful.

He grinned when you broke off, nose touching as your hot breath mixed together. “I recall you wanting to revisit that kiss, hm?”

“How do you know we’re romantic soulmates, hm?” you said, Dean chuckling. “God, you’re annoying. I liked you better when I thought you were scary.”

“Oh, I’m terrifying, sweetheart. Just not to the people on my side. Especially not the woman that thinks I’m hot. Or would you like me to show you the security tape from when they brought you in and you couldn’t keep your eyes off me?”

“I was afraid for my life,” you deadpanned. Dean shrugged. “I was!”

“Yet here you are, kissing me twice in one day.”

“You kissed me-” He pressed a finger to your lips, shushing you.

“Details, sweetheart. Now, I really am starving and I would love to answer all of your questions but I don’t want to disturb Kyle. We can chat in the morning.” He pecked a kiss to your temple before striding off back towards his car.

“What? Why’d you come here then?” He spun around, a tinge of pink on his upper cheeks.

“I realize I left…abruptly. I didn’t want you to worry. I could say it’s because you’re head over heels for me because of the soulmate thing but really, you’re just kind. Kind people tend to worry about other people, even when they don’t quite deserve it yet.”

You crossed your arms, glancing down at your slippers. “Why do you pretend to be this scary bad guy when you’re clearly not him?”

“Because I can do a lot more good behind a mask. Good guy Dean wouldn’t have the connections I do to let me know your former boss wasn’t paying his taxes and has a history of sexual harassment. Good guy Dean certainly wouldn’t know how to get proof of that and how to relay it to authorities.” Your head snapped up, Dean pursing his lips. “You never thought it was curious why police never went after The Dark Lord with all his evil crimes?”

“Your whole thing is…a facade?” He shrugged. “So you don’t torture and kill people who wrong you?”

“I never said that. Stories get embellished is all.” You bit the inside of your cheek, Dean taking a step back. “I’ll see you in the-”

“Kyle’s not home. He made a few friends today. He’s at a sleepover.” Dean took a step forward, looking you up and down. “If you want to...talk now. Only talk.”

“Only talk. I’m good with that.”

You were hot when you stirred the next morning. Your pillow felt hard as your eyes fluttered open to find a very bare chested Dean under your head.

“Well good morning,” he whispered, kissing your temple. You narrowed your eyes, Dean breaking out into a laugh. “And they call me the scary one. They ought to see you first thing. Look ready to stab some eyes out.”

“Why are you in my bed shirtless? I do not hookup,” you growled. He shushed you, his large arm curling around your back.

“Because you invited me to stay? I got ketchup on my shirt after our snack so it’s in the wash…you only have a two bedroom and we had a few beers…so you told me we could share…do you really not remember this?” Okay, maybe once your sleep deprived brain had a moment to think, you did recall inviting him into your bed, even if that had been a somewhat drunken ask. “You good?”

“Yeah,” you said, laying back in bed, closing your eyes. “Just thought for a second we…”

“No. We didn’t do anything. But maybe I can cook you dinner sometime.”

“Maybe,” you said, Dean shifting in bed, feeling his chin rest on your shoulder. “You’re like a puppy aren’t you? Now that I let you in the house you think you can stay.”

“I let you in my house first,” he said, nuzzling his cheek against your arm. “Sam would like to meet you if that’s cool, say thanks in person. He should be up for visitors later.”

“I’ll make sure to stop by. I’m glad he’s safe again.” Dean let out a heavy breath. “You were fuzzy on the details. What exactly did you give to Crowley to get Sam back?”

“It’s funny how much you can get done when you just talk to each other,” said Dean, letting him use your arm as a pillow, your fingers toying with his strands. “It’s well known Crowley’s queen was imprisoned eons ago. Well, turns out the wizard who did it died about fifty years ago after some freak accident.”

“So his magic would start to fade.”

“Exactly. Which meant the queen would die when it did fade on the spell he cast without some intervention. The wizard cursed it so only a soulmate with the curse could open the box. Crowley was running out of time and grabbed Sam as a last resort so to speak. He’s not my favorite person in the world but we came to an agreement to put all this behind us.”

“Sam for the queen,” you said.

“And Crowley sticks to the Darks Lands for the next thousand years. Figured that should keep things quiet for awhile.” You turned your head, Dean looking up through his lashes. “I never would have thought to just talk to the guy without you.”

“Nobody’s perfect.” You reached your free hand around to rest on his bicep. “You’re offense, I’m defense, remember?”

“You know, I don’t actually know if we’re romantic soulmates. Crowley wouldn’t spill on that. We might just be meant to be best friends.” You raised your eyebrows, offering a sleepy smile. “Hey, you asked earlier. I just don’t know if-”

You pressed a finger to his lips, Dean’s eyes darkening. “Why don’t we start with you making me dinner tonight and we’ll go from there?”

“What about Kyle?” he asked.

“While your concern for my little brother is extremely appealing, I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t mind a night at one of his new friends again. Anymore excuses?” Dean pursed his lips, thinking hard.

“You don’t feel obligated to do this because I’m your boss, right?” You rolled your eyes, Dean batting your hand away to roll on top of you. “Had to check. So. Dinner at seven?”

“Sounds great,” you said, staring up at him, Dean licking his lips. “Better run along, Mr. Dark Lord. Lots of terrorizing on the agenda for today I’m sure.”

“Between the torture and the maiming I mean I’m packed solid,” he teased, bending down, brushing his lips over yours. “Come by the mess hall at noon with Kyle. We have family lunch there on the weekends.”

“Sure thing Mr. Fluffy Lord.” Dean pecked a hard kiss to your lips, pointing a finger at you when he pulled back. “You’re so soft and you know it.”

“Yeah, yeah. Keep it up, little thief.”

“One time!” you said, Dean smirking, your eyes widening. “How…how’d you know it was more than once?”

“My stock’s been short for the past year. No harm, no foul. Oh,” he said, climbing out of bed, ruffling his hair. “Remind me to talk to Michael about Kyle. He’s been researching it for the past few months and might have a magical fix for his asthma.”

“Months? But you didn’t know-”

“I knew someone was stealing the medicine and while we can’t cure everything, between magic and science, I figured he could solve it and we could put it out there.” You smirked, Dean pointing a finger again. “Do not call me Fluffy Lord.”

“Yes. You’re truly so evil.”

“Damn right I am,” said Dean. “I got a skull mask and cloak even. Evil incarnate over here.”

“Whatever you say, Fluffy Lord.” You propped yourself up on your elbow, Dean narrowing his eyes playfully. “I hope you enjoyed this because you’re not getting back in my bed until you’ve earned it.”

“Already dreaming about the next time we share a bed, are we?” he teased. You flipped him off, pointing at the door. “Alright. I better get out of here before we have to explain this situation to a twelve year old.”

“Yes, please,” you said, Dean bending down, cupping your chin in his hand. Your heart caught in your throat, Dean smiling softly.

“Thank you for giving me back Sam, beautiful.” He pressed a linger kiss against you, lifting his head and kissing your forehead. “I’ll see you soon, little thief.”

“Yes you will, Dark Lord.”

_____________

#supernatural #spn #dean x reader #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfiction #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x you #dean x you #dean x female!reader #dean x y/n #dean winchester x female!reader #au!dean

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takenbypeter · 11 months ago

Note

Hi!!!! I Hope You’re doing okay and having a wonderful day/night. I was wondering if you can do a Wonka x reader fluff where basically the reader works for slugworth and is supposed to you know hate wonka but both wonka and reader have feelings for each other. And maybe it can center around the reader trying to confess their feelings to Willy but slugworth is always getting in the way of it. (So cock blocking 💀). But In the end it’s Willy who confesses to reader.

The Chocolatier and The Receptionist

Willy Wonka x reader

Words: 3981

Authors notes: I am so sorry this fic is a lot longer than I expected. I usually like my fics short and to the point but with this one I just kept going and going anyways I hope you enjoy reading it cause I had fun writing it 😉

All you wanted was a simple job. One that was routine and easy, but of course no job was that simple.

Slugworth’s assistant, Miss BobBon, had gained much responsibility in the past few months and due to that, Slugworth decided to hire a receptionist and that’s where you came in.

All you did was respond to a flier but Slugworth seemed to like your quiet demeanor and he gave you the job easily.

At first being Slugworth’s receptionist was easy enough; take calls, write down messages. Slugworth was nice enough being that you got the job done. He didn’t talk to you much, other than a simple approving smile when you’ve done your job correctly.

However, with all this recent news about Wonka, an opposing chocolatier and his rising chocolate popularity, Slugworth’s irritation has begun to be…noticeable.

“Miss BonBon, when is my appointment with the chief of police?” You heard Slugworth ask his assistant as they walked right by your desk. You watched as she rifled through her binder. You, of course having organized that meeting yourself, answered him, “it’s at 3:30 Mr.Slugworth,” you chimed.

Mr. Slugworth turned around, a curt smile on his lips as he retraced his steps back to your small desk. “I’m sorry, are you my miss BonBon?”

Your eyes immediately went down to your desk realizing the sort of mood he was clearly in, “no.”

“Well then why are you answering receptionist?!” He said before turning back around and walking off leaving you to grumble to yourself as soon as he was far enough.

God, how you hated working for that man, if not for the pay then who knows where you would be by now.

After spending the last few hours pouting at work you called it a day and began your journey home.

Your abode was only a mere twenty minute walk and while some would hate the journey you didn’t really mind it at all. Sometimes it gave you just the amount of time you needed to clear your head.

Currently, it was giving you the time to grumble as you walked. As you strolled along you noticed the tiny delicate snowflakes as they began to fall. And with that beautiful sight taking place, your complaints stop as you come to a street bench. Sitting on it you look up and close your eyes letting the flakes decorate your skin.

The flakes melt at the contact against your face, causing you to become more relaxed, calm. You were so occupied by that feeling that you hadn’t realized a boy had come to sit at the other end of the bench.

“Rough day?” Asked the boy and your eyes shot open just now noticing there was someone else there. You glanced at him before deeming him harmless enough and shot him a small smile, “just the usual annoying day at work,” you reply.

“Hmm,” you watch as he looks down, his lips pressing together in a quick thought. “Well I’ve got just the thing to cheer you up!”

You observe as the young stranger quickly pulls out a jar and from the top he takes a small piece of candy and holds it out towards you. “This here is a Choco-Vanilla Spring Wafer, first an outer layer of chocolate, then vanilla, before you get to the wafer which is made with the flour of a special flower on a lone island not too far away. One bite of this and your mood will turn right around,” he exclaimed with a smile appearing on his face.

Your expression turns sour as the gears spin in your head while he sits there hand still out towards you, and after one more glance from his candy to his face it finally clicks. “It’s you!”

That exclamation made him jump a little in his seat before he looked around to see if you were talking about himself or someone else.

“You’re that chocolatier,” you clarified. His smile confirmed your statement. “Wonka. Willy Wonka is the name, chocolate is the game, except chocolate is not a game. It’s serious.”

He fails to make a change of expression on your face but only because you were too busy looking at the man. This was the first time you were seeing him and given how much he was affecting your boss, you expected him to be…older…and more sinister looking.

He gives you an odd look as you’ve just been practically staring at him. And once you don’t move he holds his hand out again motioning for you to take the chocolate but instead you jump up from your seat. “Are you kidding me? I can’t take chocolate from you! You’re the reason my job is so terrible!” You shout accusatory.

“Me? What did I do?”

“You and your chocolates are ruining my life,” you continue, ranting as you throw your hands in the air exasperated.

“How so?” He asks, voice genuinely concerned.

“It’s just…ooh you just…” you raise a hand palm open wide before curling it into an annoyed fist. I mean it wasn’t his fault exactly, all he was trying to do was sell chocolate and make a living, just as you or anybody else would. You sighed a dejected sigh and gave up, “nothing, it’s nothing.”

You stand there while he sits, both quiet, until he asks, “chocolate?” He repeats, his proposal from before still standing, but you hold your hand up rejecting the offer.

“I can’t, my boss would kill me if I had your chocolate.”

“You really care about this boss of yours,” he states and you scrunch your face in annoyance.

“I do not, for all I care he could catch a cold for a week,” you say nodding at your own sentiment while the boy called Willy Wonka grins laughing a little at your words which still seemed kind to him.

“I just need my job, that's all.”

“I really doubt your boss would mind.”

“Oh I know he would mind, in fact I shouldn’t even be talking to you right now.”

You turn around and continue your walk causing Wonka to leap up from his seat in order to catch up, “wait, you can’t talk to me?”

“My boss really, strongly, dislikes you,” you explain, eyes focused forward as the boy followed beside you.

“Fine,” he did as you did, taking steps while facing forward, “then I won’t talk to you, I’ll just talk to the air that's beside you.”

A smile breaks way on your face and he catches it, smiling as well.

“Goodbye Mr.Wonka,” you say, pulling the collar of your jacket up for two reasons; to keep you warm and to hide your grin.

He seems to catch the message as he stops in place while you continue on leaving him standing in the snow.

That night you can't help but ponder on what might’ve happened if you set your loyalties and fears aside and just took piece of the chocolate but oh well maybe in another universe.

The next morning on your way to work, you notice a spectacle taking place nearby. Curiosity taking over, you approach and as you near you recognize the voice.

Wonka.

There he was in front of a small stand with his name and a few jars of chocolates.

“—Today I will be showcasing my new product. These are what I like to call Choco-Vanilla Spring Wafers.” he repeats his pitch, glancing around at the various faces in the crowd and as he does so he spots you. His smile widens while the crinkles around his eyes deepen, but he continues on professionally. “On the outer layer, chocolate, before a simple but delicious vanilla flavor, before you get to the wafer which is made with the flour of a special flower on a small, lone island not too far away from here.” He makes his way through the crowd making sure to make eye contact with each and every person. “One bite of this and your mood will turn right side up. Don’t believe me? Try one,” he comes to a stop right in front of you as he says so, and holds out a piece of the chocolate.

Now, you know what you said the other day and you know you work for another chocolate company, but after spending the night pondering over what that chocolate would’ve tasted like, you couldn’t stop yourself from growing more curious and right now what you wanted more than anything was a piece of that candy, so you took it from his fingers unwrapped it and then gently placed it into your mouth.

Willy watched as you chewed on the chocolate and a smile spread on your face, “it’s delicious.”

He smiles a smile of relief before turning around, “you heard it here folks it’s delicious, now get one of your own to try this new delicious chocolate.”

The crowd rushes forward as they all hold out their sovereigns wanting to try it themselves and with a single wave and a smile you depart leaving Mr.Wonka alone with his booming business.

He was right though, your mood did seem to turn right around.

Once you got to work you went straight to your desk pleased that Mr.Slugworth had yet to arrive which meant peace for at least a few minutes.

Which only felt like seconds today.

“I can’t believe the nerve of that Wonka boy!” Shouted Slugworth as he entered the building followed by his assistant. Your ears perk up as he walks by and you notice he has a familiar jar in hand. “How dare he sell chocolate when the police specifically ordered him not to. Ooh he’s becoming a real pain.” You watch as he opens the jar taking a piece out, “what good is his chocolate really anyway?” He pops a piece in and you can tell he adores it just by the expression on his face before he conceals it, “It’s just wretched,” he says entering his own office.

Oh that stubborn boss of yours, you thought. Thankfully that Wonka’s chocolate seemed to be working as your boss’s words had no effect on you whatsoever.

The day went quickly and soon you were on your way home just as the other afternoon.

Now, you weren’t looking for Willy Wonka but you couldn’t say you were upset when you had crossed paths again.

“You’ve really got to get a new hobby besides following me around,” you joked, starting conversation.

“But why would I do that when our afternoon discussions are my favorite time of day.” You didn’t know what response you were expecting, but that was a little more forward than you anticipated, but you met him at the same level.

“Really? Even more than making or eating chocolate?”

“Almost. Not entirely but it’s getting there.”

You turned to look at him, the smile on your face lessening once you recognized how his expression displayed a true small appearance of contentment, which seemed to throw you off guard.

You blink twice avoiding the sudden weird tension you were beginning to feel. “So what did you want this time? I’ve already tried your chocolate.”

“Ah,” his mouth gaped as if just realizing something, “yes you’ve eaten it but what did you think about it?”

You found the question silly given that you’ve said it earlier, “I told you, it was delicious.”

He shook his head, “not good enough . What about it was delicious? What was your favorite thing about it? Was there anyway it could’ve been better?”

“You’re really asking me for my thoughts?”

“Of course. Every customer's opinions are important to me.” That was true, but more than most of the time the customers' opinions were positive. And if he were being one hundred percent honest, he seemed to already care more about your opinion than any other customers.

“Well like I said it was delicious,” you repeated as you walked on and he nodded for you to continue. “The chocolate layer was the perfect taste of milkiness that stayed in the back of the mouth, and when the vanilla hit it was a swirl of the both and it felt like they were working together until the two tastes became singular. Then, of course the wafer was the most important part adding the crunch to bring your attention back to the taste. So yes it was delicious.”

You had been lost in your thoughts, you hadn’t noticed Willy stopped a few steps behind you, his expression gentle.

“What is it Willy?”

He shakes his head, his brown curls bouncing as he does so, “you have a way with words unlike any other.”

“Ha okay, thanks I guess,” you say laughing more to yourself at the odd compliment you’ve never received before.

“You’re welcome.” He says joining your stride again.

“You have a way with chocolates.”

“Thank you.”

You two continued in comfortable silence. The sound of the snow crunching underneath your feet. And that was the end of that.

Except it wasn’t.

Wonka and you had spent the next couple of days chatting just as you had been. He’d always meet you somewhere along your way home and you two would just talk for a bit, honestly it was actually becoming one of your favorite times of the day. You were beginning to grow curious of the man and his qualities and frankly you found yourself wanting to know more.

Which is why one day on your strolls you plainly said to him, “while I do enjoy our late afternoon chats, I do sometimes wish that we could converse more during the day?”

Willy’s eyebrows raised in what looked like excitement but someone else voice rang out before his own.

“Wonka!”

Turning around your shoulders cave forward as you notice Slugworth walking in your direction. He came to a stop in front of you and gave you a look before turning to Willy, “may I steal you away from my, oh so loyal employee, to share a word with you?”

Willy, brain seeming to connect the dots glances between you and Slugworth as you give him a knowing smile.

You chime in seeking for an exit from whatever was about to take place, “of course. We were done anyway. Goodbye Mr.Wonka,” you said, turning around giving the two their time.

As you finish your walk home you realize how wrong it all must’ve looked, you spending time alone with Wonka of course it would be inappropriate. But still even with those thoughts, you go to bed unable to keep the young chocolatier out of your head. You both hated and yet felt, for the way he was making you feel.

The next morning when you arrive at work Mr.Slugworth is already there, his buttock planted on your desk and he seemed to be in a weirdly strange mood.

“Oh hello, lovely receptionist…” you give him an odd look before filling in the blank for him by giving him your name, “ah right! Of course. Don’t you look lovely today.”

“Thank you?” You say questionably while setting your coat behind your chair.

“Of course, of course…ahem,” he cleared his throat and you expected what was to come next, “I was just curious about this Wonka fellow,” there it was. “What were you two um…chatting about?”

“Hm, nothing really, just chocolate.”

“Chocolate? Hm, his or ours?”

“Just in general,” you say, trying to be vague.

“Ah, in general of course,” he says, finally removing himself from your space while you take your seat.

He walks around behind you to push your chair in for you and while he does so he leans down to your level.

“Just remember where your loyalties lie in this business,” he says, his voice low, before returning to his office leaving you to your work.

That afternoon Willy waits outside across from your office doors and once spotting you he bounds over. “Willy?” You ask, confused that he’s met you so early in your walk.

“I was going to meet you further on but I had recalled that we hadn’t yet finished our discussion from yesterday.”

Your eyebrows raise, “right, our discussion yesterday,” your eyes peer up and Willy follows your gaze as you make contact with Slugworth who’s shamelessly watching the scene from his glass windows.

“Um yesterday, right,” you took your attention off Slugworth and back to Willy. “…yesterday I actually was going to tell you, it would be inappropriate to continue spending time with you…goodbye Mr.Wonka.”

You give one last look upwards and notice Slugworth smirking beyond that glass, oh how you would love to punch that smirk right off. But instead you walk away quickly.

Willy stands stunned before he too looks up glaring at Slugworth before chasing after you.

“So that's it? We can’t talk anymore because you work for Slugworth? Is that what you want?”

Now being a good enough distance away from your office you turn around to talk to him face to face, “no it’s not.”

“Come work for me,” his chocolate eyes stare deeply into yours as he seems to beg for you to take his sudden offer with just a single look.

“Are you crazy? I mean I wish I could but do you have a factory? Can you promise a stable income? What even is the job?”

With each question you take note of how he looks down, refusing to answer because he essentially can’t.

You intake a deep breath, your chest rising as you do, “I wish I could but I need a steady job. I’m sorry.”

You turn back around as you were but he speaks again, persistent in continuing conversation, “when I make it big and official, you have a guaranteed spot in my factory, whichever position. What do you want to be; a taste tester, chocolate maker, or you could remain receptionist.”

“Willy…” it sounded nice working alongside him but who knows when that would be, “It’s a nice dream Willy, but that’s all it is…a dream.”

You both continue on his step now further behind yours as he seems to recall something, “someone special once told me that every good thing in this world started with a dream. She told me it was important to hold onto mine, so I am.”

“She?” You asked, curiosity increased.

“My mother.”

“Well your mother sounds like a wise woman.”

“She was,” he says he doesn’t say more but he doesn’t need to, you can tell by his expression that she was no longer with the living.

“…I’m sorry.”

He gives a saddened smile, “it’s alright, I’ll see her again.”

You gave an encouraging smile, unsure what he meant by that before moving forward with your conversation, “your mother sounded like a wise woman, and I admire her positivity…But sometimes a dream remains just that. A dream and for now that's all it is…a dream.” You say matter of factly, before uttering a final, “goodbye, Willy Wonka.”

Two days go by and you hear nothing from the young chocolatier. And with no news of Wonka you’ve noticed the change of attitude in Slugworth as he seemed to be oddly chipper than usual, but of course you chose to ignore the strange feeling you got from that man, he always kept secrets from you so why care about it now, you were just the receptionist.

That afternoon as you return from work just about to unlock your front door your attention gets grabbed by a young girl who strolled next to you. Upon taking a glance you realized, “I know you…?” You said recognizing her features to be one of Wonka’s helpers that you’ve seen in the crowds before.

“Noodle,” she said and you repeated it, (a trick you’ve learned to memorize names).

“Willy asked me to escort you to the old fountain only a few roads down. If you’ll agree of course?”

You contemplated your options; entering your place and spending a cozy night in, or accepting the man’s invitation and joining him in a who knows what adventure. At one last gnaw on your lip you agree to follow the girl.

Traveling slightly behind her, she leads the way, “how do you know Wonka?” You asked curiously.

“Willy?” The young girl asks, “he’s a close friend, we’ve sort of become close to being in the same predicament,” she explains.

Your mouth opens into a small ah as you nod showing you understand, but truly you didn’t, “what sort of predicament?” You asked, but before you could get your answer you had arrived. She guided you and motioned for you to go towards the fountain and you did.

It was fairly secluded especially considering the fact being that it wasn’t very much to look at, it was an old run down fountain and there were much simpler ways to get to town.

The girl walks away and you wait, finding this all to be unusual. As you wait you notice the fountain light up from underneath before it goes into a pattern of changing colors. Flowers aligned along the bottom of the fountain begin to bloom, one by one a variety of colors. You don’t know how he did it but it was sight to see, you honestly weren’t even exactly sure what was going on.

You followed the trail flowers with your eyes as they led all the way around and as it came to an end, that's when you noticed he was standing right beside you.

“Willy?!” You asked shocked and concerned as he stood there with his hand palm up as a small white box with a ribbon bow lay in it.

“I want you to try this.”

“All this for me to try chocolate?”

“He opens the box revealing a round chocolate. This is my new product called the Dreamscape. One of these and you’ll feel light and content. It’s a good dream wrapped into a piece of chocolate.”

You don’t know what to say, you admire his uniqueness, his charm, and his creativity in this whole plan and it honestly left you quite speechless.

“You said all of this is a dream. Well if being here with you is a dream, then I don’t want to wake up.” He holds the bite box out further to you and it takes all of your facial muscles not to react to his cheesy yet sweet phrases, “will you dream with me?”

Your brain tried to intercept and remind you of your work and what would become, but your heart was in play too as they both battled for the main position.

Willy stares, on edge, as he tries to gauge your reaction which was taking more time than he expected.

Until finally, eventually, you breathe out,“you really know how to win someone's heart.” With that sentence you pick up the piece of candy and take a bite out of it. “But I’m still working for Slugworth, so don’t make a big deal out of this.”

He raised his hands declaring a truce.

But with that single piece of candy you found yourself becoming happier with each second that was passing as you stood there, and so did Willy.

You didn't know what the future would hold but you were certain that if anyone could make their dreams come true it was him. And sure enough, days soon to follow after, Wonka and his team devised a plan to beat the Chocolate Cartel. (You may have given Willy some assistance in telling him where Slugworth would be located for the day).

Because of the disappearance of the Chocolate Cartel, Willy Wonka was free to finally begin his dream of making chocolate in his very own chocolate factory. Except, this turn out was slightly different from his original dream. This dream was sweeter, because it had you in it.

#willy wonka x reader #wonka x reader #willy wonka fanfiction #wonka fanfiction #willy wonka fanfic #wonka fanfic

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nectardaddy · 11 days ago

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AISLE ONE . . . DRY HEAVE

WHAT'S PLAYING ? ▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||။‌‌‌‌‌၊| dry heave, tiger really || “maybe I'll never be the person that I // swore I'd give my everything to be // forever dumb and awkward skinny lonely // wasting time and drowning in my dreams”

masterlist

The man let out a sigh when his hand met with the handle of the front door. Embarrassing, he thought to himself just before pulling and swinging it open. He was immediately hit with the cool air from inside, prickling at his skin as he stepped in and the door shut behind him. Brown eyes flickered over the store - he had to squint just enough to see the far end of the building, his left eye being far worse than his right (a freak accident that left his vision blurry and skewed) - and he scanned over aisles and aisles of snacks, drinks, and junk before his eyes stopped at the man who sat behind the counter.

The man was slightly older, at least in his mid-thirties, heavily tattooed, and propped against the counter on his elbow scrolling through his phone. A scowl seemed to be permanent on his features, a resting expression although nothing was going on; Ino swallowed hard as he came to the conclusion that the only person to ask about employment looked like he might rip his throat out.

He took a silent breath as he neared the counter, and shoved his hands deep in the pockets of his pants. “You're hiring, right?” The man couldn't deny how stupid he felt, or how humbling the entire experience was as he stopped at the counter and paused. No uniform, as the man behind the register wore casual clothing, but a name tag that read ‘Sukuna' in scrawled handwriting on his shirt.

“That's what the door says, isn't it?” A curt reply from the man, supposedly named Sukuna, beyond the stained, wooden counter. Not even looking up from the small screen in his hand as Ino watched him scroll once more. “You a felon?”

“What?”

The man looked up from his phone with a groan and suddenly the brunette felt minute. Small and unimportant as the other sized him up with a grimace, “have you been to prison?” Asked in a way that was almost demeaning, pronouncing each word with a bite that was meant to cause harm.

“No.”

“That's a first.” Sukuna rolled his eyes, “you do drugs?”

“No.” Takuma truly didn’t know if it was wise to lie to the man, who was all too much bigger than him. On the other hand, it wasn't the smartest decision to be honest either; the truth was, he did way too many drugs, but that would entangle him in legal trouble if he were to actually admit it.

“Jeez- you're fucking boring at parties, aren't you?”

What the fuck? He couldn't help but be taken back by the nonchalant, brash attitude; and he stared a moment before he shook his head. “Can I just get an application?”

“We don't do those here,” Sukuna shrugged. “I'll tell Yaga you want a job, and congrats you got it.”

“So I don't have to do anything?”

“Do I need to speak up? You got the job, Mr. Boring, come back tomorrow ‘same time, Yaga should be here.”

The entire interaction left him with more questions than answers; but he feared to ask anymore due to the annoyed expression painted on the other's face. Instead he simply nodded, “sounds good, thanks.” To which the other only hummed and flickered his eyes back down to his phone.

As he turned to leave, the small chime of the front door bell hit his ears - a cheaply placed bell on the door frame that sounded every time the door was swung open. At the small toll, brown eyes glued themselves to the dirty, tiled floor as he started to make his way back to the exit; but Sukuna let out a loud groan upon seeing who entered. “You're two hours late!” A bark of a complaint that made the man's shoulders drop. The store was run down, dirty, and only offered strange selections rather than the normal; and now he knew that at least one person who worked there was a complete, and utter jackass - a coworker starting tomorrow.

“Now we're even, dipshit,” the voice called back. But he took a sharp inhale at the sound, an eerily familiar one he knew to a tee, strong and brash, a cadence and tone that made his knees wobble. He was all too aware of who the voice belonged to, though he simply didn’t want to believe it. A voice that he used to hear every day, one of which would tease and prod with an err of endearment - a voice he hadn’t heard in two years. “You left me here three hours past my shift the other day.”

The brunette's steps faltered as the voice was closer to him; and for a moment he thought about dipping behind another aisle as he heard her steps near him. But he didn't. Instead, he kept his head down and continued on, and hoped that the moment would pass just as she would. But it didn’t. Against his better judgment, and against his own racing thoughts his eyes flickered up, and he felt his heart drop to the pit of his stomach once he did. He truly didn’t mean to lock eyes with her; if anything, he didn’t want to be perceived by her at all.

If he felt small before, he felt like nothing now.

It was a fraction of a second that seemed to pass in slow motion, like the world stopped spinning right then and there. It was as if he was sent straight back to high school when she looked at him; an influx of memories hitting him all at once that made him nauseous. It had been two years since he last saw her; her eyes were filled with tears then, and now they were filled with white, hot anger. He saw her brows scrunch in confusion just before her eyes widened, and watched as the realization set in on her features and switched to detestation.

An overwhelming feeling of dread struck him in the chest, a suffocating emotion that forced him to avert his eyes back to the ground once more. Not a word was exchanged between them, but there was no need - the look of disgust would be permanently etched into his brain. Only a few feet away from the door, his face became hot and he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth. When his hand met with the door handle a wave of relief washed over him; although, he wished he hadn’t heard the beginning of what he imagined would be a grueling conversation.

“You knew who that was?”

“Unfortunately, yeah. I used to go to high school with him.”

“Fuck, that’s rough, because guess who’s your new coworker?”

“Like hell he's working with me, I'd rather swallow glass.”

⋆˙ pins and patches at the top are ones that yn wears on her jackets!

⋆˙ there's a lot of history between ino and yn that we WILL dive into. just know that she doesn't necessarily hate him, but she definitely doesn't like him at the moment. and yes, there is a reason that he stopped talking to her.

⋆˙ ino is a big dumb loser boy <3

⋆˙ yn is about to have the best fight of her life after work. hakari and kirara are over the moon!!

⋆˙ yn does art too, remember that

taglist (open, send an ask)

@tomurafrlover23 @kr1nqu @popchrries @stillnotherapy @creamflix

@nekozaki @gigiiiiislife @tomikixd @allthestarsarecloserrrrrrr @vorfreudevortex

@kameyyy @solaqes @nazwrites-2002 @aldebrana @sandwhitches

#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #ino takuma #ino takuma x reader #jjk texts #jjk smau #ino x reader #ino x reader smau #series: drop out

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saturnville · 9 months ago

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on the frontline, major john egan

pairing: major john "bucky" egan x black fem oc (major lanessa "nessa" dixon) content: in an unlikely event, john meets another major during the war, but she isn't what he expects. warnings: medical inaccuracies. an: Nessa is inspired by major della raney jackson, first black major of the army nurse corps. tag list: @neeville @turn-thy-paige @ihe4rtisa @ineedafictionalman @lovebyceleste

The mess hall bustled with deep voices and the screeching of rubber soles against the dirty floor. The sun shone through the dusty windows and onto the leather-covered backs of the soldiers. An aroma of breakfast filled the atmosphere and wrapped its arms around them like a warm hug. The chefs made a large meal before missions. It was the last meal some men had to cherish.

At a long table sat 13 men; two majors, two captains, a lieutenant, and eight sergeants. The conversations were minimal, until a sergeant spoke, “Have you met the new nurse?” He whistled he guzzled down a hefty bowl of oatmeal. He grunted after swallowing the hot oats and slurped down the black coffee beside his arm. “She’s a beauty!”

There was a discourse among the men who tried to figure out when they’d see the newly hired nurses. The wages of war came at a high price. Death and injury seemed to be a suitable payment to the creditor. To combat that, the service brought on extra hands to give medical assistance to the troops, especially with more men being enlisted to serve. Hundreds of thousands of men prepared to put their lives on the line; the least they could have was efficient medical care.

“They all are,” another commented. “50 more nurses and half of ‘em are Black. Came in with them Tuskegee Airmen. Never seen anything like it.”

As the pilots bantered about the new nurses, Major John Egan kept his gaze fixed on his coffee, his mind elsewhere. The arrival of more nurses was a reminder of the harsh realities of war, the constant influx of fresh faces tasked with patching up the broken bodies that returned from the front lines. Dread settled deep in his stomach at the thought of encountering them under such circumstances. With a curt nod, he urged his comrades to focus on the day ahead. Meanwhile, the chatter of the mess hall continued, blending with the clinking of utensils and the low hum of conversations.

“Haven’t seen them,” he spoke from behind the rim of his coffee. “Hoping I never have to. Let’s get going, boys.” “Yes, sir.”

“Major Egan’s hit!” For a moment, there was silence. Then, it wound up again when the wounded leader crossed the threshold into the infirmary.

The infirmary was chaotic. Loud cries and deep groans filled the air. Trays and metal utensils kissed one another as they were tossed on carts filled with supplies. White coats here and there sifted throughout the room as green bodies wheeled more patients into the large room.

His breathing was ragged and heavy. With blurred vision caused by tears surfacing in the ducts on his eyes, it was difficult to navigate the infirmary without bumping into objects and solid bodies. His feet were heavy as he stumbled further into the infirmary.

"I got you, Bucky," Gale's voice was frantic as he hoisted the pilot on his body. "You're gonna be alright, y'hear me?" If he had the strength, he would have replied. His heartbeat was in his ears and his stomach was in his throat. He'd never been shot before. Would this be the end of his career as a pilot? He groaned in agony.

"I need a nurse!" Gale hollered, his husk voice reverberating off the walls. "He's been shot. Bullet is still in his shoulder."

In front of him appeared a nurse. A highly ranked nurse, at that. She was dressed differently than the others. There was no matching white skirt set with a pretty hat, no, she was dressed just like him. Dark leather jacket, heavy pants, and dark boots. On her chest was a multitude of badges and pins, including one that was similar to the one on Gale's chest. Major. Well, he'd be damned.

She didn't stay in his sight long, as she began giving orders to two other nurses, who were preparing a bed. She ushered her patient to another nurse and wrapped her black stethoscope around her neck. Around her wrist was a small hair-tie which she used to pull her curls into a makeshift bun. With a thunderous voice, she ordered, “Bessie, get him on a stretcher and bring him to me.”

A fellow nurse, Bessie assisted Gale in getting John on a stretcher. Gale stood behind the ladies, the tip of his thumb against his teeth. As the stretcher was rolled toward her station, she made a quick work of the gloves and ordered him to stay calm. “I’m gonna cut your shirt, okay? I need you to remove your hand so I can take a look. Take deep breaths for me.”

Beads of sweat trailed down John's forehead as he gritted his teeth. His nostrils flared and his jaw shook as he tried to keep his sounds to a minimum. The nurse above him chuckled, which caught his attention. "What's funny?" He managed to ask.

She pushed his stubborn hand to the side and used her scissors to split his shirt in half. She was unfazed as blood trickled out of the open wound. It was ugly, but she knew how to make ugly beautiful. The wound was a wicked one, but it was a clean shot that managed to miss the muscle. It would be an easy retrieval.

"No reason to play big man and conceal your pain here, Major. You got shot. The shit hurts. You can let it hurt here." She pressed her stethoscope against his chest. Heartbeat still strong, she noted. Wavering just slightly, but strong. She called for extra hands. "Administer the shot into the upper right shoulder."

John's eyes were on her as she worked. Her brown eyes were gentle and they remained on him as she poked, but her tone was stern as she said, "Major Cleven, if you'd like to stay, you must stay behind that line. Major Egan, you just received a numbing agent to reduce the sensation. The bullet is retrievable. If you feel anything unbearable, you let me know. I'll stitch you up good as new afterword, am I clear?"

John’s stomach twisted at her authority. His tongue scraped across the roof of his mouth as he nodded, "Yes ma'am."

"Wonderful. Scalpel, please."

"How is he?" Gale's voice was unclear. He felt groggy. His head was a boulder on his shoulders and he felt confined to the small, yet comfortable bed he laid in.

"He'll be just fine, Major. He took it like a champ. He'll be out of commission for six to twelve weeks and will be ordered to physical therapy upon return to base. Don't give me that look, now; he is not fit for battle right now, but he will be okay, I can reassure you that. My nurses and I will take good care of him just like we will everyone else."

John heard Gale's sigh of worry. "Okay, you're right. Thank you, Major..."

She chuckled lightly. "Nessa Dixon."

"Major Dixon. Thank you for all you've done."

"No problem at all. You come to me tomorrow if that wrist is still giving you problems and I’ll wrap it again for you, okay? Get some rest, you'll need it." They exchanged goodbyes and the sound of Gale's footsteps retreating became clear. Finally, John's heavy eyelids peeled open.

"Nice to see you again," she spoke after some time. She was leaning against the wall, hands stuffed into her pockets. and her stethoscope dangling from her neck. "How are you feeling?" She made her way toward him, sitting on the stool she set at the bedside.

John groaned as he tried to readjust. His shoulder was wrapped tightly. He couldn't move even if he tried. Amelia jumped up and propped a pillow up. "Easy now..."

"Thank you," he replied gruffly. "I'm sore. Tired. And I need a damn drink."

His response pulled a laugh from her. Not the small chuckle she'd release here and there, no, a hearty laugh. It made him smile. "You and me both. Let's get you up and moving first. Your procedure went well. You are to stay out of combat for--"

"Six to twelve weeks with physical therapy upon return to base," he repeated her words, clearly unamused. Nessa smiled, clearly amused.

"Good to know you listen," she replied.

John hummed. "I do, Major. Didn't know that was a thing for nurses." He hated to seem painfully ignorant, but it’s what he was at that moment. Nurses in his unit rarely received titles, unless they’d done something extraordinary or had been in service for an extended period. But she, she looked young. Like she couldn’t be much older than he was.

Nessa nodded. She was one of the first Black nurses accepted into the Army Nurse Corps after they began accepting Black women. She worked her way up the chain, she explained, earning the same prestigious he carried. On the same level as a white man whose life was in her hands. Who would've guessed?

"Nessa is just fine right now," she suggested. "I should let you rest. I'll do one more check before I head out. Major Cleven will be here in the morning, I'm sure. Do you need anything, Major?"

"John," he said gently, tired blue eyes gazing into hers. "And I'm okay. Thank you for everything."

She gave one nod before leaving him alone and releasing the breath she wasn't aware she held.

“Nessa.” The woman sighed heavily and dropped her clipboard against the makeshift desk. Silence wasn’t a thing during war. Constant movement, moaning and groaning, the calling of her name. All she wanted was a moment of silence. It was nonexistent.

“Yes?” She didn’t turn around. But, she recognized the voice. Deep. Full of rasp. The way he said her name. It was familiar. Her eyes dropped to her clipboard, scattered with notes and reports that needed to be sent to the leader physicians.

“Why are you awake? I thought you were leaving.”

Her eyes dropped to the watch on her wrist. 1:43am. She’d been up for almost 24 hours. She shrugged and picked up her pen to scribble on the paper more. “I can ask you the same thing, Major. You’re supposed to be sleeping. Why aren’t you sleeping?”

Finally, Nessa turned around. She regretted it. John Egan was a handsome man. She knew that, but she was too focused on ensuring he didn’t lose his arm to focus on his features. But in this moment, in the dimly lit infirmary with no one else present, she had every opportunity to do so. And, she regretted it.

He was tall. Much taller than she was. She assumed her head would be at his shoulder, still leaving inches of distance between them. Though his face was littered with scrapes and healing scars, it seemed to illuminate his beauty. His eyes were blue, a strong contrast against his dark, curly hair. A strong nose and straight lips that she was sure felt amazing. His upper lip was cut in the corner and dried blood remained. He must’ve begun anxiously picking at it.

He managed to change his clothes. Major Cleven must have had something to do with that. He was dressed in dark sweatpants and a sweatshirt. She was curious as to how he got his arm through the sleeve, but she’d heckle him about it later in the day. His curls were damp and tousled messily. God, he was beautiful. Bruised and all.

He chuckled and slowly sat in the chair opposite of her. He groaned softly and readjusted himself to come into a comfortable position. “I can ask you the same question.”

She shrugged, “I’ve got paperwork to do. Go to bed, John. You can’t heal if you don’t rest.”

“You gonna tuck me in?” John’s tone was teasing. Nessa’s eyebrows raised and the pilot threw his head back as he laughed heartily. It was the first time he laughed with passion in a while, and she couldn’t help but crack a smile as well.

“You’re in a good mood. Let’s go. You’re going to bed and I’m going to sleep in the infirmary just in case..” She pushed up from her chair and tucked her documents into a folder. She nodded toward the door and the pilot followed suit.

They walked side by side in silence back to the infirmary, which was near the resting area for the injured who didn’t make it back to their chambers. Luckily, everyone had. Nessa’s eyebrows raised as John lay on the same bed he was on earlier. “What’re you doing?”

“I’m your just in case,” he said simply. He laid his head against the pillow and watched as she stood still. Nessa swallowed thickly. It took her brain extra effort to tell her feet to move. She sat on the edge of the bed to pull her heavy boots off her feet. She sighed in relief.

Nessa swung her feet on the bed and allowed her body to mold into the comfortable mattress. Her eyelids felt heavy, but still, she found his gaze. “Goodnight, John.”

“Goodnight, Nessa.”

Though they did not say anything to one another after that, she found comfort in the silence. They found solace in the quiet of the infirmary that kept them through the rest of the night. Together.

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avonne-writes · 5 months ago

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Any head canons for a Clegan AU where John's a general contractor who specializes in historic homes and Gale has reluctantly inherited a somewhat rundown historic home? Gale's determined to bring it back to life (it's one of the few places with happy childhood memories for him) but quickly realizes that he's in over his head. And a friend (maybe Benny?) recommends John for the job.

Great idea, dear! I would love to see this as a fic.

Starting from your idea, we have Gale with childhood trauma hiring a contractor to help with the house. He thinks it will be an informal process.

Bucky walks through the property with Gale first, and it's a mix of heavy flirting and genuine interest in the house.

Gale discovers then and there that he has a competence kink.

Bucky meets up with Gale not only at the house, but in various other places to "discuss the restoration plan"

Gale's embarrassed about not knowing what he's doing but Bucky doesn’t make fun of him, just helps him learn while somehow still slipping in jokes in every other sentence

Bucky's interest just keeps growing for both Gale and the house but Gale is slow to open up to him

Once the work starts, they talk less often at first, but Gale sees Bucky (and crew, but Gale’s blind to them) working on the hard physical parts, sometimes sweaty, sometimes shirtless...

Bucky approaches Gale sometimes to flirt with him, Curt ribs him mercilessly for it behind Gale's back

Bucky sings along to the radio when he's in a good mood during work, and Gale thinks it's cute.

At one point, Bucky and Gale are the only ones left in the house, and there's a big storm. They move inside and jump each other's bones 🥰

In the afterglow, Bucky starts talking about caring for abandoned things and mistreated homes and loving them back to their warm, beautiful state

Gale gets uncomfortable and rigid, and he pushes Bucky away, closing off to him

But, despite what he expects, Bucky remains warm to him the next day. He pulls Gale aside at an opportune moment and gives him a gentle kiss that leaves Gale reeling.

This continues for days, and slowly, Gale loosens up again. They start flirting playfully like they used to before that storm. Bucky does things like rubbing at a wooden fixture sensually or pouring water on his head and shaking it out like a dog.

He brings Gale gifts too, things he picked up for the house at first, then things specifically for Gale

Eventually, Bucky takes Gale on a ride and shows him other historic houses until he stops at one - his own. He’s not smooth about saying what he wants, he talks a lot but beats around the bush, but then Gale kisses him and says that they can go inside

They have sex again, but in an actual bed this time

Bucky tells Gale how he got into the business, Gale talks about his childhood and his trauma

Bucky asks Gale if Gale will let him take care of him. Scared but hopeful, Gale says yes.

Gale's house becomes one of Bucky's best works.

He and Gale fall in love and live happily ever after. 💕

#buck x bucky #mota #clegan #gale cleven #john egan #anon #historic house au

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thenyoumightaswellwrestleangels · 10 months ago

Text

My life does not belong to me (but these secrets are my own)

Blood nose and a crooked tongue (I always wanted to be someone) - series masterlist here

pairing: tim drake x reader (gender neutral)

length: 1.2k

genre: fluff? I guess?

warnings: red robin breaks into reader's apartment but he's very polite abt it, he also kind of intimidates and threatens but it's all for funsies

a/n: another intro another story here ya go

There's a certain fear you feel when something takes you by surprise - when you miss a step walking down the stairs or you reach into your pocket and realize you've lost your phone. These moments, you think haltingly, all pale in comparison to the fear that strikes through you when you flip on the light in your apartment and see Red Robin perched in the corner of your living room, arms crossed and scowling.

"People usually knock first," is all your brain supplies.

"The murder victim from last week. You were at the crime scene," is his only retort, curt and professional. You hum thoughtfully, throwing your keys and wallet onto your coffee table and removing your jacket, slinging it over the arm of your couch as you cross your arms to mirror his, leaning against the wall opposite him.

"And you're so sure of that?" You quip back. His frown deepens.

"A private investigator trails a man for three weeks and then he ends up dead in an alley. This is serious."

"Oh, I'm sure it is," you say, the patronizing edge to your voice making Red Robin's fists clench as your heart hammers in your chest. "But… not for me. Because you see, Red, I wasn't there, I didn't kill anyone, and I'm not the cop working this case. So, I would suggest finding someone who's actually involved in this in some way. You can go and have a very serious conversation with them, instead." Your frown matches his as the two of you stare each other down, your arms still crossed tightly against your chest as you hope he can't tell how desperately you want him to stop sniffing around and leave.

"You're awful nervous for someone who's not involved," he says smoothly.

Fuck, you think.

"Let's try this again," Red Robin pushes himself off the wall, stalking towards you. You do your best not to move - not to back away when he comes close, looking you in the eyes through the white slits in his mask.

"You were there in that alley the night that he died. You were not the person who reported the body - you fled the crime scene, instead. You've been tailing him for weeks because his wife supposedly hired you to find proof of him cheating. You must have, in all the time you spent following him, realized that his late-night rendezvous were, instead, because he was dealing drops for Falcone." You inhale sharply at Red Robin's words and he grins viciously, like a wolf who's just caught a rabbit between its teeth.

"Shall I continue?" He mimics your patronizing voice from earlier and you open your mouth, a retort dying on your tongue as he continues talking. "You claim to make your money by way of rich women hiring you to expose their lying, cheating husbands, but you and I both know that's just not true-"

"It is-"

"Oh, sure, yes - it is true. You do technically do that work. But there are some other things you have your hands in, hm? Aren't there? You do a lot more than just that for your clients. A lot that I'm sure the GCPD would be thrilled to have some evidence against."

Red Robin leans closer to you, silence dripping between the two of you as your head spins and you try desperately to grasp onto enough words to snap back with something - anything.

"I didn't kill him," you finally say firmly. "I had nothing to do with that."

"No, I know you didn't," Red Robin shrugs casually and leans away from you, rocking back on his heels as your shoulders drop in relief at the new distance between the two of you.

"Then what the fuck was that?" You snap at him.

"You were being evasive. I got impatient." He spins away from you and sits on the arm of your couch, settling in.

"You're not staying here," you say pointedly.

"Oh, only for a little while," he waves off your anger. "I need you to tell me what you learned about his drops dealing."

"Excuse me?" You retort, heart still pounding uncomfortably in your chest as you come down slightly from your panic.

"Any information we can get involving these drugs helps us," he explains, You sigh, rubbing the back of your neck where the stiffness has begun to ache.

"If I give you the file I have on him, will you leave?" You glance at your balcony door pointedly, noticing that it's no longer locked.

"Oh, I promise," Red Robin grins. You roll your eyes and turn on your heel, leaving him to go retrieve the file from your office.

Tim sighs as you walk away, rolling the soreness out of his shoulders as he listens to you slamming filing cabinet drawers open and closed on the other side of the wall. Yea, he thinks, you're pissed.

He takes the time to let his eyes wander over the details of your apartment - your home… if you can call it that. It's exactly what he expected from someone covering up an illegal lifestyle - generic, just lived-in enough for you to be able to say see? Absolutely this is my very normal apartment and my very normal life, officer. But no photos on the walls, no interests displayed, nothing that would reveal any sort of personal information about you.

He wonders idly what your very not-normal office must look like when you come back, slamming the file onto his lap with enough force that his hands shoot out to catch it. You stand in front of him with your arms crossed, glaring at him.

"Everything's in there. You can leave now." He nods at your words, flipping open the file to make sure.

"This is some good work," he muses.

"Not interested, Red," you snap back. He flips the file shut and stands, ending up closer to you than you would have liked as you lean back slightly, his chest brushing against your crossed arms. But all he does is huff out a laugh before stepping away and sliding open your balcony door.

Red?" you call out. He turns to you, cocking his head to the side. "Are you… going to give the police the evidence you have against me?"

"What evidence?" Red Robin shoots back, grinning again.

"Oh, you - you've got to be fucking kidding," you sigh, shoulders slumping as you bury your face in your hands.

"You're good at what you do - I had trouble finding anything on you. Oh and, uh… you should really lock this door. You never know who might try to come in," he quips before you hear your balcony door click shut. By the time you look up from your hands, he's gone, and you move quickly to lock the door once again.

Not that it matters, you muse, inspecting the lock for any signs of a break-in. Fucking bats - they never leave a goddamn trace.

But as you turn back to face your living room again, a note on your coffee table catches your eye. Snatching it and unfolding it quickly, the writing inside makes your jaw clench.

Call this number if you find out anything new. - Red

You sigh, throwing the note back onto the table and slouching into your couch, face in your hands once more. Somehow, you doubt that's the last time you'll be hearing from Red Robin.

#smsn.writes #tim drake #tim drake x reader #tim drake x you #tim drake imagine #tim drake fanfiction #tim drake fic #red robin #red robin x reader #red robin x you #red robin imagine #red robin x y/n

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141goblin · 7 months ago

Text

Soft: Chapter three. John.

CW: Suggestive, John Price being a bit sneaky and manipulative. Slight possessiveness.

A/N: I had to write this one from John’s pov to fuel my silly little brain worms 🪱

—> Chapter two

I spend the early afternoon both getting ready and helping the boys set up in the mansion. Despite my protests, they were all adamant on throwing me this big, ridiculous party for my 40th birthday and wouldn’t take no for an answer. I put on a ridiculously expensive suit that i’ve hired for the evening and begin to greet my guests as they filter in, each of them giving me warm smiles, hugs, kisses on the cheek. None of it is of any interest to me, though. If i had my way, i’d be spending tonight in the local pub, eating good food and washing it down with one too many pints. Nevertheless, I do my best to look interested and actually make an effort to enjoy the night.

I’m doing my rounds of thanking everyone for coming, when I spot Johnny and his bird. Twiggy little thing, looks like she could be a supermodel. She’s pretty, sure, but hidden behind them like a lost puppy is the most beautiful thing i’ve ever seen.

Big, soft woman, all wrapped in red silk, like my own personal birthday present. Pretty round face framed by a few loose curls, tits practically spilling out of her dress while the bottom half flows down her wide thighs and calves, accompanied by a pair of heels that look far too uncomfortable. Her big, blue eyes are looking around the room, taking in the sheer size of the place. Bless her, she looks like a child at Disneyland.

Johnny leads her over to the bar with his bird and I make a mental note of the drink in front of softie; blueberry martini. I’ll make sure the waiters keep them coming for her. Thing as sweet as her deserves as many sweet drinks as her little heart desires.

Johnny and his bird start making their way over to the rest of the lads and I see her hop up onto a barstool. Bloody fucking hell. Her perfect, round arse completely spills over the edge and her feet don’t quite reach the floor. I feel my cock twitch in my suit pants and I blink a few times to get rid of the image of the pretty, soft woman beneath me as I make her writhe and cry in pleasure, digging my fingertips into those plush hips of hers.

I make my way over to the group to get some information on her, a name, or something, anything. Either that or I keep calling her ‘sweet, soft thing’ forever. Fitting, I think. I greet the lads and give Johnny’s bird a curt nod. Got to be polite, but don’t wanna give her the impression I want her. I don’t. I want her sweeter, softer counterpart.

“Who’s your friend, Amelia?” I nod towards the bundle of sweetness wrapped in silk that’s got her pretty arse perched on a bar stool that’s far too small to accommodate her beauty.

“Oh.” Amelia chirps with a sympathetic smile in her direction.

“That’s my best friend. She didn’t really want to come here tonight, but we come as a package deal.”

I let my eyes linger for a second longer before giving Johnny a nod. He knows what to do and he immediately turns on his heels and makes his way over to the sweet thing. If there’s anyone that can convince a girl like her to join us, it’s Johnny. I see him flash his signature toothy grin and instantly know he’s working his magic. Good lad. Get her for me.

Within a few minutes of them chatting, she’s waking her pretty arse over to me. She stands there like a little girl, unsure of what to say or do. I want to scoop her into my arms and kiss her pretty round face silly, until there’s no doubt in her mind that she’s the most beautiful thing to ever grace this planet.

Not yet, John. You’ll scare the poor thing off. Got to get her first.

Just as i’m putting a collar around my desires to make the soft, round woman mine, she excuses herself, voice all soft and quiet. Shy little thing. I’ll work that out of you, Dove. I give her a minute to collect her thoughts before following her out, hands stuffed in his pockets. I have a plan, I need to stick to it and she’ll be mine before Christmas. Maybe even with a ring on her finger.

I see her sat on the bench outside the mansion. Poor thing looks defeated. Every single fibre of my being screams at me to touch her, comfort her, kiss her silly. Not yet, John…

“You alright, dove?” I ask, standing behind her. Even from behind and sitting down she looks beautiful. Messy curls cascading down her back, arse pressed against the stone bench. I spot the cigarette between her fingers. Didn’t peg you as a smoker, Dove. Bad habit, that. Gonna ruin your lovely lungs. Then again, i’m not one to speak. She wraps her lips around the stick of nicotine and sucks. In that moment, it takes every ounce of willpower I have not to rip it out from between her lips and replace it with my tongue. Or my cock. God, she’d look so pretty with a mouth full of me…

“Fine, thanks.” She replies. He response is short and clipped, probably a sign she doesn’t want to talk to me. I don’t care. I want to talk to her. I need to talk to her.

I ignore her silent signal to be left alone and sit down beside her on the bench, my thigh pressed against hers as I hold a cigar idly between my fingers.

“Not a fan of parties like this, I take it?”

I want to know what kind of girl she is, what she’s into, what makes her tick. What’s her idea of a good night out? Is she the type that loves getting dolled up and drinking fruity cocktails all night? Does she prefer a night in? The burn at the base of my skull tells me I need to know.

“You could say that.”

There it is, we’re starting to get to the bottom of why she’s sat outside, sporting a frown on that pretty, freckled face of hers. I want her to like me, so naturally, I leave out the fact that this is my birthday party. I don’t want her to think i’m such rich ponce that throws parties in mansions, just for shits and giggles. That’s not who I am. If i’m going to make her mine, she deserves to know i’m not that kind of guy. From what I can tell, she’s not into those men.

“Mm, I get it. Not for everyone.”

It’s not like i’m lying to her. I’m just conveniently leaving out the details.

Something must’ve snapped in her pretty little head because she starts to rant, saying that parties like this are for ‘rich arseholes’ or something along those lines. In all honesty, I wasn’t listening. All the blood rushed from my head to my cock the second I saw the fire in her eyes. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to fuck the attitude out of her or pepper gentle kisses all over her gorgeous neck while she rants.

When she finishes, I laugh, genuinely amused. The poor girl clearly isn’t having a good time and is taking comfort in me, blissfully unaware that it’s a party for me. I see her flushed face, anger mixed with embarrassment. I’d pay good money to see that face every day for the rest of my life. An idea pops up in my head and I store it away for later.

“Feel better, dove?” I ask, turning to look at her as she scowls out to the courtyard like she has a personal vendetta against grass itself. She gives me a little hum and I smile to myself.

I tell her i’ll be inside if she decides to stay, and leave her to her thoughts. Hopefully that little rant of hers helped her to cheer up. I can’t decide what I like better, her smile or her scowl. As I go back inside and see that people are now sitting down at their respective tables, I internally groan. It’s getting closer to my least favourite part of the night. The speech. I flag down the nearest waiter and shove a few ten-pound-notes into his hand.

“When the lady in the red silk dress comes back inside, the one sat at that table,” I point to where Johnny and Amelia are sitting.

“Bring her a blueberry martini, and keep them coming. Thanks, mate.”

The waiter gives a curt nod and scarpers off to retrieve the drink from the bartender once more. I come to a decision as I wait to make my speech. I need to see that face of hers again, all rosy and wide-eyed. This should be fun.

I get up on stage and gather everyone’s attention, thanking my room full of guests for coming to my party (even though I didn’t want the party in the first place, it doesn’t hurt to be polite). Then, when i’m certain I have the attention of my dove, the fun begins.

“Here’s to us rich arseholes, at least pretend to be on your best behaviour, eh? Here’s to a good night.”

I raise my glass of whiskey and the room erupts in laughter and amused cheers. My focus is on one person, and one person only. And, by the looks of it, my birthday wish just came true. Soft little things sat there, face bright red, practically melting in her seat from the sheer embarrassment. Might’ve been a bit cruel, but worth it to see the look on her face.

After another hour or so of mingling and small-talk with people I don’t care for, I see my soft girl make her way over to the bar. She orders another one of those blueberry martinis she loves so much. Silly girl, I paid a man to bring them to you. Then, a glass of water is placed in front of her, too. Good girl. Smart decision. Amelia seems to have some sort of girls sixth sense because she makes her way over looking like a concerned mother. I watch them for a few seconds and then Amelia makes her way back over to us.

“We’re gonna call it a night.”

All the lads give her a hug goodbye and I take this as my chance to catch my sweet soft girl before she goes home. I see her sitting on the same bench as before, looking equally as defeated.

“Leaving so soon, dove?”

She seems to jolt a little at the sound of my voice. Jumpy little thing. I wont hurt you, sweet girl.

“Afraid so… Past my bedtime.”

She’s funny, too? God, she’s perfect. I let out a laugh, and her round little face blushes and she shivers. Poor thing must be freezing. I take off my suit jacket and drape it around her shoulders, almost testing the waters, but I can play it off as being chivalrous. My jacket basically swallows her form, despite the fact that she’s a wide, beautifully plump thing.

“Hm. Shame. I quite enjoyed that little rant of yours.”

She pauses for a few seconds, and I can practically hear the cogs turning in her pretty head. She turns to face me, brows furrowed and her bottom lip stuck between her teeth.

“Listen, about that-“

She’s about to apologise, I can feel it. And I can’t let her. This beautiful, soft girl can do no wrong in my eyes.

“No need to apologise, dove. I liked the honesty. Not often I find a soft, beautiful thing like you with such fire in her.”

Ha, there it is. She freezes, her brain trying to compute if she just heard me right. It’s funny to watch the cogs turn as he comprehends being complimented. I’m going to compliment you until you can think straight, perfect girl. Before she can say anything, Amelia is grabbing her by the hand and pulling her into an uber, while my pretty girl keeps her eyes on me, even looking back as the car drives off.

Luckily, I managed to pull some strings and get Johnny to sneak onto Amelia’s phone to get me my pretty girls number. I make a mental note to text her later. Might even use my jacket as an excuse to see her pretty, round face again.

I wonder what she’ll be doing when she gets home, changing into some cute little pyjamas, or maybe even running a hot bath and lowering herself into it, her tits and perfect, soft belly sticking out over the water level.

Tags: @izziyuwh @a66-1

#call of duty #fanfic #john price x reader #captain john price #captain price #dark fic #plus sized reader #john soap mactavish

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lqveharrington · 4 months ago

Text

Silver Roses & Fallen Snow

8: The Planning (series masterlist)

summary: You finally see Coriolanus for the first time in weeks, but it shakes the both of you to the core.

pairing: young!coriolanus snow x fem!reader

includes: explicit thoughts, explicit language, mentions of death, mentions of cheating

wc: 3.4k+

a/n: this series is the epitome of my life 🤍

To say you were shocked to see Coriolanus back from peacekeeping twenty years early was an understatement. The last time you heard about Coriolanus was a week ago and it was barely any information. You guessed that he could climb his way back up the ranks, but you would never know unless someone told you… However, you kept your shock from altering your facial features, but that didn’t stop Coriolanus from approaching your table. Luckily, Festus came back from grabbing his own drink before a certain blonde reached you.

“Hey, we have to go.” You shut your planner as he began to sit down, making him throw you a skeptical look. You opened your mouth, looking for a random excuse to leave the outing you wanted to take. “I… uhm, I forgot I have to meet Clemmie for the gala plans.”

He raised his brows in surprise. You rarely forgot about something, especially when you kept your planner with you every second since your father moved up the engagement. So Festus knew you were avoiding something with the way you kept your gaze locked on his and how you kept spinning the ring on your finger. “Okay. But just so you know, Clemensia won’t give away any details.”

You tilt your head with a faint smile on your lips. That part was true. Clemensia loved planning parties, so you hired her to become the Lovett family’s official planner. You took Festus’ arm when he offered it, quickly grabbing your hot chocolate and planner in the other. Unfortunately, before you could take a step out of the cafe, a voice called out to the both of you. A distinct voice that made you flinch at the mere sound.

Festus widened his eyes. So that’s why you wanted to leave. He didn’t have any issues with the young Snow himself, but Festus respected your wishes. He squeezed your arm in comfort and turned around with a tight-lipped smile. “Coriolanus! When did you get back?”

“Just a couple days ago. Dr. Gaul has kept me under her wings since I’ve arrived.” Coriolanus shrugged his shoulders when he came face to face with the both of you. He glanced over at you, frowning when you kept your gaze on your paper cup. He watched you for a little longer, making the silence unbearable for each party. Coriolanus cleared his throat, looking back at Festus. “How have you been?

He felt you squeeze his arm, opting to keep the conversation short and sweet for your sake. “It’s been pretty busy.”

Coriolanus tilted his head at the curt answer. He sent the male across from him a puzzled look before responding, “I won’t keep you two long since you looked like you were going to leave. I have to head back before the Plinths rebuke their offer anyway.”

You furrow your brows at his words, finally looking up. His words intrigued you, but you suddenly felt suffocated. Your breath hitched in your throat. You didn’t take a good look at Coriolanus earlier and now you wish you hadn’t looked up at all. He was fucking jacked. What the hell were they feeding him in District 12? Sure, he looked… Pretty much the same. But his build got much bigger and his hair was still growing out from its buzz cut; Of course, you couldn’t help but eye him when he wore such a revealing shirt. You wondered how much stronger he got and how he could—

No. You stopped wondering. You weren’t dating him anymore. Feeling your face warm at your thoughts, you flickered your eyes back from his form to his — now — sapphire-colored eyes. A small smirk played on his lips as he caught you in the act, making it harder for you not to roll your eyes at his antics.

Now was not the time to think about your past relationship together. Even when he looked so fucking hot. You averted your eyes again, mentally cursing him for having such a strong effect on you.

Coriolanus tilted his head down as he smiled to himself. You had shown your cards to him, yet he knew why you didn’t act upon your feelings. He knew that you hadn’t forgotten about his past actions during the Games, causing him to act differently when interacting with you. He spoke softly when he finally acknowledged you instead of just staring — voice laced with an emotion you couldn’t place.

You grip your planner tighter, heart constricting at the sound of your name falling from his lips. Of course, his voice did something to you too. You respond politely, catching a glimpse of his dimples before it disappears. “Coriolanus.”

“How have you been?” He glances at the ring adorning your finger again.

This time, you catch him staring at the fine piece of jewelry, making you hide it once more. “I’ve been okay.” You say quietly. Not even a second later, your mouth went dry, your mind slowly wandering back to sinful thoughts when you catch his hand rubbing his jaw in thought.

Another awkward silence encapsulated the three of you. You and Coriolanus stared at each other, lost in a multitude of thoughts. It’s been over a month since you last interacted with one another and it wasn’t like you both left off on a good note.

Festus glanced between the two of you before clearing his throat when he saw your eyes glaze over. “Sorry to cut our conversation short, but we need to get going. Clemensia is waiting for us back at Lovett Manor.”

Coriolanus snapped his head back over to the male, forgetting he was present. “Go ahead, I’m still waiting on drinks for Tigris and Grandma’am.” His regret-filled eyes met your gaze again, softly speaking. He didn’t really want you to leave yet. Not when he just saw you again for the first time in a while. “It was nice catching up with you.”

You gave him a sad smile and nodded, following Festus out of the cafe. Seeing Coriolanus Snow again was not on your planner.

“Tigris?” Coriolanus entered the Snow penthouse with drinks in tow. He knew by your reaction at the cafe that you were in touch with Tigris more than he thought you would be. Passing the rebuilt and redecorated rooms of the penthouse, he continued to call out for his cousin. He knew he could get more information about you out of her. “Tigris?”

“I’m in here!” The blonde shouted from her new sewing room that was all bought for by Strabo Plinth. She dabbed at the sheen of sweat on her forehead as Coriolanus entered with her tea. “Oh, thank you, Coriolanus.”

He hummed and pulled a chair out, straddling the seat as his cousin sipped the hot tea. “You’ll never guess who I saw today.”

“Who?” She gave a satisfied sound as the hot liquid soothed her throat.

Your name fell from his lips effortlessly — a turned-down smile replacing his cool display. Tigris chalked it up to her cousin missing you dearly, making her rub his back comfortingly.

“How is she?” Tigris sat across from Coriolanus. She watched his smile widen just a little before it dropped. “Coriolanus?”

He snapped his eyes back onto hers, “I was wondering the same thing, Tigris.” Coriolanus clasped his hands together to stop his fidgeting, urging himself not to reach for the silver rose tucked underneath his shirt. “It occurred to me that when you called me, that wasn’t her first time speaking with you after I left. She wouldn’t have been too comfortable looking for you in the coffee shop if she didn’t.”

The older blonde raised her brows, stunned at her cousin’s sudden accusation. Although it was quite correct, she felt that he would do something that wouldn’t be lawful if she admitted to talking to you more often than he thought. “Well, we spent the afternoon catching up, Coriolanus. It had been weeks since I last saw her in person before you called.”

Fuck it. He reached for the necklace and twisted the charm between his fingertips. “So you called her? What did she tell you?”

“If you’re so interested in her life, ask her yourself.” Tigris stood up and walked over to the sewing machine, rubbing her temple in exhaustion. “Coriolanus, I’m tired. We had to sign off on all the contractors for the penthouse and then move back in within a week. They’re still refurbishing the place as we speak.”

“I would ask her myself, Tigris. But she won’t listen. She wanted to leave the second she saw me.”

“Maybe because you cheated on her!” Tigris put her hand out toward him. She wore a look of exasperation as he looked at her, stunned by the words. “Coriolanus, if I were her, I too would avoid the person who cheated on me. Especially when that person said they have loved me since we were children.”

Coriolanus stared up at her like she was insane for shouting at him. Yes, he cheated on you. But it was all for you wasn’t it? He could have come up with a better idea, but he was desperate to win your father over for you. And it wasn’t like he sought Lucy Gray out in the Districts. Sejanus clearly did so. However, Tigris made her point. He knew he had to gain your trust once more; he just didn’t know how.

“Now get out, Coriolanus. I need to finish this dress before the gala.”

Oh. He thought, pushing out of the chair. He quickly shut the door and took quick strides to his room, glancing at the photo on his desk. The gala might just work.

“Hey, didn’t I say not to do that? You could seriously get hurt if you fought with someone untrained.” Finn caught your wrist in a swift motion, eyebrows creased at your tense body and face. “What’s wrong?”

You huff and push yourself out of the rink, leaning against the pole. “Did you know Coriolanus is back from peacekeeping?”

He raised a brow and tossed a water bottle toward you. “No, thanks for the information on blondie though.”

Rolling your eyes, you continue with your spiel. “Anyway, we kind of ran into each other at the cafe. God, it was so awkward, Finn! He kept looking over at me when he would talk to Festus, and I swear, he purposely smiled with his dimples to get a reaction out of me. And when I tell you that he’s like—“

“Uh-huh. No, keep talking about how much you like your ex.”

“What?” You throw him a dirty look. What could you have possibly said that made him think you liked Coriolanus?

“Well, you kept talking about him for starters. I mean, all our conversations end up with you talking about him at some point.” Finn nudged your arm, watching you glare at him with intensity. “You asked!”

“I didn’t mean to say it out loud.” You mutter, spinning the ring on your finger again. It wasn’t your fault Coriolanus looked different…

Stop! You’re not dating anymore!

Finn gives you a worried look as a scowl makes its way to your face from your thoughts. “If you need a reminder, he cheated on you. He broke your trust when you thought everything was going to be fine.”

That sobered you up fast. Coriolanus cheated on you with a tribute. From District Twelve. Sure he apologized many times, but you couldn’t bring yourself to trust him after that. What if he cheated again? What if he lies to you again? No, your broken heart couldn’t handle another day where it could be back-stabbed and absolutely shattered once more.

“Are you okay?” Finn tapped your hand as you snapped out of your dazed look.

You nodded and cleared your throat. You could worry about Coriolanus any other time. Right now you had to train. Especially when the gala was fast approaching. There were other things that you needed to get right before fixing other mistakes like what you were going to do about Sejanus’ death.

His death was surprising. He had been careful when talking about his rebel plans with others he could trust. Which meant someone had betrayed him. But who? Of course, Sejanus wouldn’t tell another peacekeeper about his plans — that was too risky. That meant someone in the District betrayed him. You just had to figure it out.

You relayed your thoughts to Finn, who gave you an intrigued look.

“How are you going to do that?” He blocked your jabs, the mind weighing the options of the set plan.

“Well,” You roll your shoulders before aiming toward his boxing pads again. “The Lovett Gala is coming up, and my father requests more staff as he intends to invite most of the Capitol Elites. He was going to hire more lower-class Capitolites, but since he felt like being… Generous, he decided that he was going to hire those from the poorer Districts.”

He raised a brow, “You really thought this all the way through.”

“Of course.” You give him a quick smile. “And you’ll have an invite. You won’t have to sneak in with the staff.”

“How kind of you.” Sarcasm dripped from Finn’s voice. “I have to put on my best suit.”

“You own a suit?” You tilt your head to the side.

Finn swept your legs, “And your session is officially done for the day.” He pulled you up when you apologized, squeezing your arm. Finn removed his boxing pads as you quickly lost the gloves. He knew you were joking, but his advice seemed fitting for both your plan and your smart mouth. “Please think about your choices before you commit. I don’t want you to be pushed into trouble.”

You gave a curt nod, half listening to his words. Trouble was nothing your mind and heart couldn’t handle.

For weeks, you had been looking for something to take your mind off Coriolanus. And you thought boxing solved your issues, but seeing him reset your entire progress. You were thrown off guard, and the only way to deal with the issue was to face it. But how could you? Coriolanus is, was, the epitome of your entire life. And somewhere deep in your heart, he was still buried there. No, you needed to avoid him for as long as you could.

“Clemmie, I don’t think we need two orchestras.” You read her notes and glance at all the other photos and drawings scattered around your room. When you don’t get a response from her, you look up to find her running around your room to find another pair of notes. “Clemensia, you need a break.”

She stops shuffling through a stack of papers and looks over at you with a quizzical expression. “The gala is in exactly one week, and you’re telling me to stop?” The raven-haired girl flicks through the papers before finding the one she needs, handing you a copy.

You read through the paper, finding it to be an invitation list of all the prestigious Capitolites. Some you recognized; some you didn’t even know existed until now.

“We can’t stop until everything is sorted out. And your father requested that at the end of the gala, you and Festus need to make an announcement on your engagement since you didn’t make the papers when he proposed.” She waved a hand in the air and scrunched her nose. “Honestly, your father is kinda crazy. Sorry.”

“He is.” You shrug but continue to scan over the list, a small frown tugging at your lips at Coriolanus’ name. You twist the end of the paper with your finger, hoping that this is just a draft. “Are we inviting all of these people?”

“Uh,” Clemensia glanced over at your paper and then back at hers. She pulled a face before flickering through another stack of papers. “I think so. That was the list your father handed me a couple of days ago.” She handed you a small, card stock paper. “These were the invitations he chose to be sent out. They just need to be hand delivered today and you should be getting RSVPs as early as tomorrow morning.”

You carefully take the navy blue invitation from her hand, running your fingers over the indents of the words. “But why would my father invite the Snows? I thought he hated them?”

She let out a sigh, “Honestly? I think it's a given that he has to invite them. If not, there would be questions. The Snows and the Lovetts have been bound together since before you were born.”

Raising a brow, you eye the invitation again, slipping it underneath your comforters. “Right, we have to keep appearances up.”

“Mhm,” Clemensia put her hands on her hips and clicked her tongue at the mess. “I really need to get more organized.” She continued to push the stacks and drawings out of her reach, still looking for a specific piece of parchment.

“Anyway, since you’re visiting the modiste later this week, you need a new dress for the gala. Your father wants blue for the theme, but since you’re the hostess, you can pick whatever you please to stand out.” She smiles when she finds the parchment, quickly shoving it into your hands. “Do you like it?”

Your eyes widen at the drawing. The intricate design of your manor’s interior for the gala was beautifully done. “I love it. Clemmie, it’s amazing!”

“Thank you.” She did a faux bow and grinned wider. “All I needed was the approval from you to get this design done.”

You squeeze her hand, “It’s beautiful. The Capitol will be dying to know who designed this all.”

She gladly accepts the compliments before switching back to head planner mode. “The invitations are being sent out right about…” She eyes the clock on your wall before nodding her head. “Now.”

The doorbell rang at the Snow Penthouse, causing Coriolanus to lose his train of thought. He was trying to read a book covering the subject of animal mutants for Dr. Gaul but the thought of seeing you earlier kept his mind occupied. He wanted so badly to apologize in front of the entire cafe, ready to beg on his knees for your forgiveness — but he had more dignity than that. He wasn’t some dog. Instead, he believed he found another way to talk to you. One where you knew you couldn’t escape right away.

The sound of the doorbell ringing again echoed through the penthouse, making Tigris roll her eyes at the impatience of the person. “Coriolanus, can you see who’s at the door?”

He begrudgingly stood up from the sofa and ran his fingers through his short hair, smoothing out any creases in his dress shirt. Coriolanus flung the door open and gave the Avox a bored look, “Yes?”

The Avox handed him the navy blue envelope, nodding at him before taking their leave — leaving a confused Coriolanus. He flipped the envelope to see the Lovett seal, curiosity filling his mind. He shut the door and peeled open the envelope, eyes scanning the cardstock. So your father did invite the Snow family still. Coriolanus bit the inside of his cheek and made his way back over to Tigris, waving the invitation at her. She furrowed her eyebrows at him, tilting her head in agitation.

“What?” She placed her clothes down as she stared at the invitation with zero interest.

“This was at the door, I thought I should let you know.” Coriolanus handed her the cardstock with confusion. “I didn’t think they would still invite us.”

Tigris huffed, “Coriolanus, her father cares about their image as much as we do. They’ll invite us because if they don’t, everyone will wonder exactly what happened with you two. No one knows the full extent.” She handed him the invitation back as she continued to make a silver dress. “Do you wish to go?”

“I was going to ask you that. It’s addressed to you.” He leaned against the doorway with an annoyed look on his face. “I can’t accept it with your name on it.”

“Just RSVP and I’ll take you.” She stopped the urge to roll her eyes at how dense Coriolanus could get whenever the conversation would switch to you. “Honestly…” She muttered as he walked out of the room with the invitation clutched in his right hand.

So the Lovett Gala it was.

Coriolanus’ plan was officially set into motion and your plan was just getting started.

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