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simplee-dreaming · 3 years ago

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The Runner (Part 2)

(Part 1 here)

A/N: THIS IS MY 50TH FIC WTF!! Ngl I'm not so confident about this one but that's just my anxiety being a demon. I hope you all like it.

Word count: 3823

Summary: With Darren being on the warpath, Chris takes great care of the reader...along with some friends.

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The next day you walked into work with a big smile on your face. Last night you shared food with Chris Evans, watched a film with Chris Evans, got into a tickle fight with Chris Evans and ended up being cuddled by Chris Evans. You were certainly on cloud nine right now.

“Black coffee for Mr Evans please! Black coffee!” a call came over the radio. You strode into the kitchen to make it but found another runner already on the case.

“Nevermind,” you thought to yourself. There’s no way you were gonna go the whole of today without seeing him anyway.

You turned on your heel to leave but walked straight into Darren.

“Oh, um, sorry, I-I didn’t see you there,” you stuttered.

“Watch where you’re going,” he said, sternly.

“Sorry,” you repeated.

“There’s a mess on the set, you need to clean it up before the next scene begins shooting,” he demanded. You looked at him.

“But, I’m not a cleaner?” You said, puzzled.

“You were perfectly happy to clean the set a few weeks back,” he said.

“Well yeah but-”

“No excuses, clean up that mess now,” he interrupted, marching out of the kitchen. You sighed but decided not to argue.

You went onto the set and helped the cleaners with the mess.

A few hours had passed and you were sitting on set filling out an accident form. Apparently, Sebastian Stan had slipped on set whilst filming and managed to cut his hand. Only a tiny cut, but any accident has to be filed. Unfortunately, you didn’t get to sit with Seb and fill it out but was given the details by his assistant, Jane.

You got up and walked into the set office, where all the paperwork was kept, and filed away the accident form. When you walked back onto the set, Darren was standing there staring at you. He lifted up his hand and ordered you to go over to him. You slowly walked over and stood in front of him.

“So what exactly did you do to clean the set earlier today?” He asked.

“I...I swept up the debris. I just cleared the mess,” you replied.

“You cleaned the floor, didn’t you?”

“I cleared it yeah but I-”

“You cleaned the floor and left it in a slippery state. No wonder Mr Stan slipped over,”

“No, but, I..I just cleared it! I never-”

“He could have broken a bone,”

“I didn’t clean it, I only swept!” You protested. Darren grunted at you and walked off, leaving you feeling deflated.

The rest of the day you were silent. You didn’t dare speak to anyone in case they thought the same as Darren. When your lunch break finally came around, you walked outside to the back of the studios and sat in a quiet corner where all you could hear was the wind sweeping through the trees and the birds singing. You finished your lunch in silence, a single tear escaping from your eye.

“There you are! I’ve been looking for you all day!” said a familiar voice. You looked up to see Chris walking towards you. A smile involuntarily grew on your lips.

“Oh, hey!” You said, quickly wiping away the tear.

“What’s wrong? Have you been crying?” He asked, sitting on the bench next to you.

“No. No, I’m fine,” you replied.

“You have been crying. What’s the matter?”

“I’m fine,”

“No you’re not,”

“Yes I am, I promise. I’m fine,” you said, a little too quickly. Chris gently put his hand on top of yours.

“What’s happened?” He asked, softly. You looked at him, then looked down and burst into tears. He pulled you in for a tight cuddle.

“It’s all my fault,” you sobbed into his chest.

“What is?” he asked.

“Seb. I made Seb slip. He’s hurt because of me,” you cried.

“Wait, what are you talking about?” Chris asked, rubbing your arm.

“I cleaned the set earlier, I must’ve put something down because Seb slipped and cut himself and it’s my fault,”

“Seb didn’t slip?” Chris said, confused.

“What?”

“Seb didn’t slip, he tripped and fell over. That’s how he cut his hand, he grabbed onto a bit of the set for support and caught a sharp edge. He never slipped,” Chris said. You looked up at him.

“So...so it wasn’t me?” You asked.

“Of course not, he’s just a clumsy idiot. The floor wasn’t slippery at all. Plus, he’s fine. Just got a big boy plaster on,” he chuckled.

“But...but Darren said-”

“What did Darren say?” Chris asked, more seriously.

“Darren said Seb slipped. And that it was my fault because I cleaned the set earlier but I didn’t remember actually putting any product down to clean and I thought I only swept the set which it seems is all I did and-”

“Whoa whoa whoa, breathe. Darren told you this was your fault?” Chris asked. You nodded.

“Right, I’m going to talk to him,” Chris said, standing up.

“No no please, he already hates me. If you say something then he’ll know I told on him and he’ll be even worse,” you begged.

“Y/N, he cannot treat you like this,”

“It’s fine, I can handle it,” you lied.

“He made you cry, Y/N. That is not okay. I’m going to speak to him,” Chris said. He walked off and you ran after him. When you turned the corner, you both ran straight into Seb.

“Whoa Speedy Gonzales, slow down!” Seb said, catching you as you tripped over Chris’ foot.

“S-sorry,” you said. You looked up and suddenly registered who was in front of you.

“Oh god. Oh I’m so sorry, Mr Stan, I didn’t mean to-”

“Y/N, calm down, it’s okay,” Chris said, placing a hand on your shoulder. You looked up at him and took a few deep breaths.

“Ohh so you’re Y/N. Chris has been telling me all about you, it’s nice to put a face to a name,” Seb said, smiling at you. You gave a shaky smile back. He looked at Chris.

“Where are you off to?”

“Going to see my assistant,” Chris said, sternly.

“Ah yes, ‘Divine Darren’,” Seb said, sarcastically. “More like Distasteful Darren.”

“Well, quite. He’s been so unpleasant to Y/N, so I’m going to talk to him,” Chris said, he sounded very angry.

“Chris please, it will only make things worse,” you begged. Seb looked at your worried face and looked back at Chris.

“I think she’s right, Chris. At least wait a little bit until you’re calmer. Then I’ll come and back you up,” Seb said. Chris let out a sigh then looked at you. His face softened.

“Okay. But he’s not going to get away with this,” Chris said. You breathed a sigh of relief.

“Good lad,” Seb said, patting Chris’ shoulder. He then turned to you.

“So, you’re the reason our Chris was so chirpy this morning, eh?” He said. You blushed.

“W-well...I...um…” you stammered. What had Chris told Seb?

“Seb…” Chris warned.

“What? I’ve gotta be polite to your new tickle attacker!” Seb said.

“SEB!” Chris cried.

“Chris told me you used his weakness against him last night. Nice to have you on board Y/N,” Seb winked at you. You let out a nervous giggle, praying that Chris didn’t tell Seb that you shared the same weakness.

“Although, it seems you may struggle more. We can’t have someone who is equally as ticklish on the front line until he’s not strong enough to retaliate,” Seb said. He winked at you again and smirked.

Fuck. He knew.

“Anyway, gotta get ready for my next scene. Catch you both later,” Seb waved goodbye and walked off.

You turned to Chris and punched him in the arm.

“Ow! What was that for?!” He exclaimed.

“You told him?” You asked.

“Ohh...yeah...yeah I did,” he said, giggling. You punched him again.

“Ow! Okay, okay, I’m sorry! I just had a great night last night and couldn’t keep my mouth shut,” he said. You couldn’t help but smile.

“So did I,” you replied. He chuckled and pulled you in for a hug. You relaxed in his arms until he squeezed your side.

“Hey!” You yelped.

“That was for punching me,” he said.

You sighed and walked back into the studios with him, ready to get back to work.

The day finally came to a close. Scenes were wrapping up shooting and members of the crew were packing up to go home. You had purposefully been avoiding Darren all day, terrified of what he may try and do next.

Chris has invited you to his caravan again for another movie night, so you decided to quickly clean up the kitchen area before you clocked out. You took the half-filled jug of coffee out of its hold and turned to pour it down the sink. But, as you turned, someone knocked into the back of you and you dropped the jug which smashed all over the floor.

“What the hell are you playing at?!” Yelled Darren from behind you. You swiftly turned around.

No words came out of your mouth, just incoherent babbling.

“Look at what you’ve done! You’ve smashed the bloody jug you blundering idiot!” He yelled. You took a step backwards and slipped slightly on the spilt coffee, you held the kitchen side for support as tears leaked down your face.

“I-I didn’t mean….I never meant to...it was an accident!” You cried.

“You did that on purpose. You’ve been messing about ever since you started here. Have you any idea the damage you’ve caused?!”

You burst into tears, frightened of the man standing before you.

“Hey hey, back off!” A voice said behind Darren. He turned around slightly and there stood Scarlett and Lizzie, both with their arms folded.

“Did you see what she did? She broke the coffee jug!” Darren exclaimed, gesturing at you.

“Then buy another one,” Scarlett said, shrugging.

“Better yet, buy another one secretly and we won’t tell anyone that you purposely fell into her,” Lizzie said.

“What? I never fell into her! Stupid girl tripped over,” he said, a wobble in his voice. Both women titled their heads and raised their eyebrows at the same time.

“She dropped it all by herself! She’s caused nothing but havoc since she started,” he tried to explain but the girls were having none of it.

“Grrr. Out of my way,” Darren huffed. He pushed past Scarlett and Lizzie and marched off.

“Hey, are you okay?” Lizzie asked, approaching you. You shook your head and burst into tears. Lizzie drew you in for a hug.

“What’s your name, sweetheart?” Scarlett asked.

“Y/N,” you responded, quietly.

“Oh goodness, you’re Y/N! Chris has mentioned you a few times today. He’s waiting for you, we'll take you to him,” said Lizzie.

“B-but the mess…” you stammered.

“Leave it, we’ll clean it up,” Scarlett said.

She and Lizzie each put an arm around you and guided you away from the kitchen. Chris was standing at the back of the studios, near the caravan park. His posture straightened up when he saw you, but his face grew more concerned as you approached.

“Oh my god, are you okay Y/N? What happened?” He asked. Scarlett looked at him and raised one eyebrow.

“No. No no. This wasn’t Darren again was it?!” He said, his voice getting louder. “Where is he? I’ll kill him!”

“Chris, he’s probably gone home by now,” Lizzie said. He put his hands on his hips and shook his head.

“That little….he has no right treating you like his,” he said. You tilted your head down. He drew in a deep breath and took you from Scar and Lizzie, wrapping you in a hug.

“It’s okay, you’re safe now,” he said, stroking your hair. You cried into his shoulders and hugged him tightly.

“Tell you what, Seb’s using the green room to relax in for a bit this evening. Shall we go and join him?” He asked.

“Will he mind?” You replied, lifting your head slightly.

“Not at all! We could have a group film night if you’re both up for it too?” Chris asked. Scarlett and Lizzie nodded. Chris put his arm around you and all four of you walked to the green room.

“Knock knock,” said Chris, entering the room. Seb was sat on the sofa, scrolling through Netflix.

“Hey man, how’s it going?” Seb asked, turning to greet you all. “Ooh more guests, this is exciting. What’s the occasion?”

“Another incident happened. We thought we could join you and watch a movie together?” Chris said.

“Why of course! The more the merrier!” Seb said. He shuffled up a bit on the sofa and Chris placed you between himself and Seb.

“I’m gonna go grab some food. Do you two mind helping me?” Chris said, gesturing at Lizzie and Scarlett. They both followed him out and into the kitchen area. Coffee and bits of jug were still splattered on the floor so Lizzie bent down to start cleaning it up.

“What happened?” Chris asked.

“Y/N was cleaning this area. She went to wash out the coffee jug and Darren purposely bumped into her so she dropped the jug and he had a proper go at her. She was terrified,” Scar informed him. He hung his head.

“I can’t let him get away with treating her like that,” he responded.

“Well, what are you gonna do?” Lizzie asked, sweeping the floor.

“I don’t know yet. But he’s not getting away lightly,” Chris said. “Do you think she’s okay?”

“I don’t know. I think she’s just putting on a brave face,” Scarlett said.

Chris, Scarlett and Lizzie finished cleaning the kitchen and grabbed some bags of popcorn to take back to the room. When they returned, they found you leaning forwards with your head in your hands and Seb rubbing your back.

“What’s happened??” Chris asked. He put down the popcorn and sat next to you, putting his arm around you.

“She keeps saying everything that happened today is her fault. I’ve told her it isn’t but she’s pretty shook up,” Seb whispered softly.

“Oh Y/N. Nothing that has happened is your fault! We’ve been through this my lovely,” Chris said, gently.

“I shouldn’t be here,” you mumbled.

“What? Chris said.

“I shouldn’t be here,” you said, standing up from the sofa and heading for the door. Chris grabbed your arm.

“Whoa whoa whoa, steady on. Where are you going?”

“Darren was right. I have no right being here. I’m just a runner.”

Another tear fell down your face and Chris’ heart broke.

“Y/N, listen to me. Yes, you are a runner but that doesn’t mean you’re not allowed to be here. Runners are an important asset to the studios, how else would I get my coffee?! Besides, you’re not just a runner. You’re incredible. You’re the first non-celebrity that hasn’t treated me like royalty and it’s a breath of fresh air,” Chris said. You looked up at him.

“Really?”

“Yes really! Don’t want you bowing down to kiss my feet, they’re not that great,” he said. You gave a shy giggle.

“Come here,” he said, pulling you in for a cuddle. You happily accepted and relaxed slightly in his arms.

“Now then you, we’re gonna have a great movie night, yes?” He asked, you nodded. “Good, but I want you to be happy before we start. Where’s that smile?”

He had a hint of playfulness in his voice. You knew what was coming but didn’t want to fight it, so you buried your head further into his chest.

“Come on...where is it?” He teased. He started poking up and down your sides and you squirmed.

You murmured a giggle into his chest as he continued to poke you.

“Where’s that smile?” He teased. You giggled louder as the pokes turned into squeezes.

“Chrihihihis!” You squealed, trying to twist out of his grip.

“Where are you going?” He asked, bending his head slightly to look at you. His hands squeezed your sides and tickled your ribs, making you squeal. You put your hands on Chris’ stomach to push him away but decided to tickle his tummy instead.

“Hehey!” He yelped, stepping backwards and releasing you from his grip. He tilted his head and raised an eyebrow.

“So that’s how you wanna play…” he said. The playful tone in his voice made you giggle but also kicked in the instinct to turn on your heel and run.

Bad move.

Chris lunged at you, as you turned, and picked you up - spinning you in the air before lying you flat on the sofa. You shrieked.

“No Chris!” You pleaded as he sat next to you, trapping you between him and the back of the sofa. He cackled evilly and started squeezing your sides again. You shrieked and kicked your legs out.

Seb, Lizzie and Scar all shared a smile as they watched Chris tease you.

“Show me that smile,” he teased once more. You were going bright red in the face and tried to bat his hands away, but you couldn’t stop giggling.

“Hey Chris, I think it may be in here,” Seb said. Before you realised what was about to happen, Seb had placed his fingers in the crook of your neck and started wiggling them.

“WAIHIHIHIT! You cried, not expecting Sebastian Stan to join in. You scrunched up your shoulders, trapping his hands in your neck, and shrieked.

“Wow, Chris, you’re right. She’s super ticklish!” He teased. Your face turned ruby red as you twisted and turned on the sofa.

“NOHO I’M NOHOHOT!” You cried.

“Oh yes you are,” Seb said. His hands trailed down to underneath you and started tickling your shoulder blades. The noise you made was different to any other you had ever made before.

“Whoa, I think you found a bad spot,” Chris laughed. He started squeezing and spider tickling your tummy and you let out a scream. You kicked your legs frantically as your arms waved around trying to stop the attacks.

“Girls, we need your help!” Seb said. Scarlett and Lizzie looked at each other and laughed. Scarlett got up and approached you.

She positioned herself next to Chris and gently fluttered her fingers over your kicking feet. No one had you pinned so you were free to twist and kick as much as you liked, but as soon as you twisted from one pair of hands you fell right into another.

“Does this tickle Y/N? Does it? Tickle tickle tickle!” Chris teased, now spider tickling your waistline.

“STOHOHOHP SAHAHAYING THAT!” You cried.

“Oh but you’re so fun to tease!” Chris said, laughing evilly.

Lizzie looked over at Chris and narrowed her eyes. Then, a thought hit her. She slowly crept up behind Chris before lunging at him, sitting on top of him so he was pinned to the floor. She wasted no time in shoving her hands under his armpits and wiggling her fingers.

“WHAHAHAT THE HEHEHELL?! AHAHAHAHA!” Chris yelled, taken aback by the sudden attack.

Seb and Scarlett instantly stopped tickling you so you could all watch the action unfold.

“Does this tickle Chris? Does it? Tickle tickle tickle!” She cooed, repeating his own teases. He thrashed below her and boomed out a laugh. You started giggling too.

“I’ve got him, Y/N. Come and get your own back,” she said, turning her head to wink at you. You jumped off the sofa and basically slid over to him.

“Do any of you know his worst spot?” You asked.

“His ears. Get the spot just behind the right one and flutter your fingers over the top of his left one and you’ll have him a babbling mess below you,” Seb said...a little too quickly.

You grinned at him. Lizzie stopped tickling but kept her hands positioned under his arms. You followed Seb’s instructions and, before you knew it, Chris was a babbling mess on the floor. A mix of squeals, giggles and high pitched laughs came out of him as he twisted his head from side to side. Every time he tried to lift his arms to stop you, Lizzie would tickle his armpits and he’d slam them back down again.

“Cootchie cootchie coo, Chris…” you teased. Your heart did somersaults at the sound of his precious laugh.

All of a sudden, Chris let out a booming laugh and jolted his body. You looked up and found Seb trapping one of Chris’ feet with one hand and using the other to scrape up and down his sole. Seb looked at you.

“His feet are his second worst,” he informed you.

You and Lizzie were too distracted by Seb tickling Chris’ foot that neither of you noticed him lifting up his arms. Because you were sitting right next to him, he managed to grab you and pull you over his torso. He held you close to him as his hand trailed up and down your back and sides. You shrieked loudly and bucked your body.

“CHRIHIHIHIS NOHOHOHO!” You cried.

Seb stopped tickling Chris and instead made a lunge for your foot, trapping it in the same way and raking his fingers up and down it. You burst into a loud laughter.

“Oh dear, we really are trapped now aren’t we?” Scarlett teased. She shoved her hands between you and Chris and started tickling both your tummies at the same time. You both shrieked loudly. Lizzie giggled and decided to join Chris in tickling your sides and back. Chris was giggling below you but you were screaming and shrieking before falling into a silent laughter. You hid your face in Chris’ torso and jolted your whole body. They all took this as the sign to stop.

You lay on top of Chris, getting your breath back. He was still giggling which made you giggle more.

“You okay?” He asked, now stroking your hair. You nodded and placed your head on his chest.

“You passed the initiation,” Seb said. You lifted your head and looked at him, brows furrowed.

“What?” You asked.

“You passed the initiation. You got through our torture without murdering us,” he laughed. You got off of Chris and sat on the floor, still giggling. Chris sat up too.

“You’re officially one of us now. That will never change,” he said, pulling you in for a cuddle. “And tomorrow, I promise, I will sort out this mess. Darren will never treat you so badly again, I promise.”

“Just don’t ever clean the set again,” Seb teased. You scoffed and playfully punched him, making him laugh.

Seb, Scarlett and Lizzie shuffled forward and all four cast members engulfed you in a massive hug. You felt so safe and secure, all of your worries left you for that evening.

Tomorrow is a new day.

#tickle fic #avengers cast tickle fic

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garbagevanfleet · 4 years ago

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Brightest Blue (series)

PART SEVEN

Pairing: Josh x reader Warnings: men being shitty and creepy!! possible trigger for sexual assult Summary: Things are changing. New state. New school. New roommate. You just pray things are going to click into place. Notes: things are taking an odd turn, right? (sorry this is posted so late)

taglist: @valleyd0ll @satingrass-maidensfair @guitarfingers @thebohemianpenguin @peaceisouranthem @oblvions @hansonobsessed @myownparadise96 @lara-gvf @anditsmywholeheart @kill-fear-the-power-of-lies @bigblack-catattack

MASTERPOST

You woke up to the shrill chiming of an alarm cutting through your head like a circle saw. The unexpected noise made you sit up instantly, putting your gaze directly on a desk, the top of it overflowing with sheet music.

Josh started to stir next to you, his hand reaching out from under the blanket to grab his phone from where it sat in between you.

The sore spot on your ribs made you wince, and your eyes drifted down to find your own phone, pressed into the mattress from you sleeping on it.

When the screen flicked on, you let out a sharp gasp.

“Josh, we have like fifteen minutes to leave!” you yelped, hopping instantly out of bed and finding your knees a little wobbly.

He sat up then, rubbing across his face.

You gazed back at him, frowning at the odd setup; he was laying on top of the comforter but under a different blanket.

“Shit, I had yesterday’s alarm still set for my late class,” he murmured, inching himself toward the end of the bed.

“Oh my god,” you whined, racing to the bathroom. You brushed your teeth way too quickly, knowing in your heart that you did a poor job.

When you returned to Josh’s room for your phone, he was pulling a clean shirt over his head.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, sounding somewhere between asleep and awake.

“It’s okay, I should have set my own alarm,” you admitted, snatching your cell from the bed and scooting past him again. “It’s really okay. Are you going to be ready to leave in like ten?”

He nodded as he ran his fingers through his curls. “Yeah, you?”

“I’m praying.”

On the walk to school, you remembered.

“Fuck, my presentation is today. And I got high and didn’t practice.”

He chuckled under his breath, clasping his hand around your shoulder. “You’re going to be fine- just breathe and stay calm. If you mess up, take a pause and keep going.”

You nodded furiously. “Okay. Okay. Can you text that to me? What if I forget?”

He laughed in earnest then. “Yes, I’ll text you.”

You exhaled a lengthy breath, nodding as you tried to calm your nerves.

In front of the entrance to the B hall, he spun you around to face him, holding the biceps of each of your arms. He mimicked taking a deep breath, prompting you to do the same without another thought.

“Relax,” he instructed coolly. “And I’ll see you at lunch.”

+++

You had your hands clasped tightly in your lap, nervous enough that your palms were sweating. Getting up and speaking to a room of people was high on your list of things that felt like torture, especially since you hadn’t had time to shower or do anything with your mess of hair besides pinning it up into a bun as best you could.

You thanked a divine power that the outfit you had thrown on in a haste ended up looking surprisingly presentable.

As it neared your turn, you got your papers in order and straightened up your posture. When your name was called, you promptly stood, descending the steps and ending up down at the podium.

You had just opened your mouth to start when your phone chimed in your pocket. Your eyes popped open wide, hoping you’d hallucinated the sound instead of forgetting to silence your ringer.

The professor was giving you an unamused look as you gave a weak laugh.

“One sec, sorry,” you muttered, fishing out your phone. You flicked the little button down on the side, but as the screen lit up, you got to read what the message said.

Josh just now Just pretend everyone’s me or pretend they’re naked. Probably not both though.

You couldn’t help but huff a laugh as you tucked it back away. The nerves that had you so on edge started to dampen, just a bit.

+++

That afternoon, you walked home alone. Josh had texted you that he’d be staying until 5 or 6 to make sure the production was going along smoothly, but when he returned to the apartment, it was with a bottle of wine.

You were doing some of the dishes from the previous day and had to wipe your soapy hands on a dishtowel before he crossed the room and pulled you into a side hug.

The two of you had talked about how well the presentation went when you met at lunch, but you hadn’t imagined he’d make such a big deal about it.

“I had Jake pick me up and take me to the liquor store, and I got this so we could celebrate,” he informed, his voice kind of soft - either sheepish or tired, you couldn’t quite tell.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you replied, but couldn’t suppress the huge grin splitting your lips.

He nodded, offering a soft smile. “I know.” He set the bottle down on the table pointedly. “I wanted to.”

You fished the make-shift corkscrew from the utensil drawer, brandishing it like a knife to earn a melodic laugh from Josh.

He popped the door of the fridge open to peer inside. “We might be able to make something special for dinner. Or, at least more special than mac and cheese or sandwiches.”

When the idea popped into your head, you crossed the room and grabbed your purse.

“I still have about,” you paused to count the bills in your wallet. “$34 from shopping. I was saving it for something nice, so why don’t we order something in?”

He grinned at you, leaning back against the wall next to the fridge and letting his head rest against it. “What kind of take-out are you thinking? You should get to pick.”

“Oh, please,” you huffed, playfully rolling your eyes as you started unwrapping the foil around the rim of the wine bottle. “One, I could have never done so well if it weren’t for you. And two, you’re from here, so you’d know what’s worth ordering.”

His pink lips tilted up into a smirk. “I’m not from here though.”

“Close enough.” You took a moment to think before continuing on. The tip of the corkscrew was broken, leaving a blunt edge and he watched you struggle to pierce the cork with it. “Is there any kind of Indian? Or Thai maybe?”

He nodded. “There’s an Indian restaurant downtown. It’s pretty yummy if I remember right.”

“That kinda sounds perfect, right?”

He held his hand out, flicking his eyes down at the corkscrew and then back up at you until you reluctantly handed it over. He picked up the bottle and popped it open with ease, his smirk only growing.

“Yeah, perfect.”

+++

Thursday evening, Trevor showed up around five, just as you were finished making your bedroom look like a cute study nook. You weren’t entirely sure how much studying either of you planned on doing, but since he only brought one notebook and nothing else, you weren’t very hopeful about getting any work done.

“I wasn’t expecting you to have a roommate,” he said in a playful tone.

“I do. When I moved here, I knew I couldn’t afford to live alone, so I rolled the dice. He’s a great friend, as it turns out. Do you want something to drink?” you asked as he stepped through your doorway and set his stuff down on your bed.

“That’d be cool.”

“We have juice and milk and water and iced tea.”

He shrugged with a smile. “Anything but milk, please.”

You nodded. “I’ll bring you some juice.”

Josh, who was seated in the sitting chair in the living room, working on his own homework, looked up at you through his eyelashes with a mischievous-looking smile.

You shot him a scowl. “Don’t be weird,” you whispered, and then in a normal tone, finished with, “Would you like some juice too?”

He huffed a laugh, shaking his head at you. “That’s okay, I can get my own. You just worry about him.”

Trevor happily took his glass as you handed it to him, giving you a “thank you”.

“Of course,” you replied as you sat next to him on the bed and pulled your stack of textbooks onto your lap. “Where should we start?”

“You actually want to study?” he mused, sounding disbelieving.

You bit your lip. “Probably for a little while at least, right?”

He shrugged back at you, but you tried to brush off the odd attitude. Maybe you’d given him the wrong impression as to exactly what this would be, but you could fix it.

“So, we’re supposed to read chapters ten through sixteen and then do all the questions,” you informed, flipping the book open. “You want me to read it out loud?”

You thought maybe offering to do most of the work would brighten his mood, but every time you looked over at him while you were reading, he was scrolling through his phone. He had a bored expression painted across his features, and it took him nearly a full minute to realize you’d stopped reading.

When he finally looked up at you, he gave a smile that you knew he thought was the most charming thing you’d ever seen.

You could hear a knock on the front door and Josh shuffling around in the living room.

“Have you been listening to any of this? You look like you’d rather be anywhere else.” You tried to keep your tone from sounding annoyed, but you knew you couldn’t hide it as well as you wished.

“I’d rather be doing anything else if I’m being honest.” There was not a single shred of an apology in his voice, and when you spoke again, you knew it would be even less put together.

“Why did you want to come over for a study session if you didn’t want to study?” It was less of a question and more of a scathing review of his character, or at least what you’d seen of it so far.

He frowned at you, looking a shade on the accusatory side for your liking. “I feel like you should have known what that actually meant.”

You could hear a conversation going on in the kitchen, and you silently wished you were out there instead. The longer you heard them talk, the more convinced you became that it was Jake, and you wondered if Josh invited him over on purpose, or if he just showed up.

“You said you thought I was good in class and that part of why you asked me out was so I could help you with classwork.”

He rolled his blue eyes. “Yeah, if I hadn’t, I can’t imagine you would have invited me over.”

You had your mouth open to snap a response, but somehow, his words hurt you. Not much, but just enough for your chest to feel tight, and not just from anger.

“Did you think you could manipulate me into having sex with you?” you asked quietly, your brows threaded close together in a frown.

He gave a long, bored-sounding sigh. “Don’t act like I’m a bad guy, here. Everyone does it. Give some fake compliments and then make your move, you know?”

For emphasis, he placed his hand on your thigh, a little too high up. It made your teeth clench, jaw tightened by rage.

“Don’t touch me. You should go,” you stated.

He huffed a sarcastic laugh as he inched his hand a bit further up your leg. He moved toward you until his face was nearing your neck. “Come on, what’s the big deal?”

Before you could stop yourself, you reached a hand out and slapped him across his face, your palm making contact with the hollow of his cheek. You hadn’t been expecting the crack of noise when you made contact; it ripped through the room, and out into the living area if you had to guess.

It took him a beat to realize what happened, but as soon as he did, he stood from your bed. You picked up his notebook and handed it to him, and he ripped it from your grasp, a dirty look on his features.

“You’re a cockteasing bitch,” he snapped, nursing the red spot on his cheek.

He was already halfway through the living room when you moved to stand in the doorway of your room.

“Fuck off,” you called through clenched teeth as he opened the front door and let himself out. When he was gone you realized that Josh and Jake were both looking at you with similar degrees of concern from where they were sat on the couch.

“What happened?” Josh asked, frowning up at you.

Embarrassed, you flicked your eyes over to Jake who had one eyebrow quirked up at you.

“Oh, you know. Just boys lying to me so they can fuck,” you snapped as you retreated to your room and closed the door. You instantly felt bad for being short with them, especially since Josh is just about the last person you could ever imagine being mean to, but you’d apologize later.

Right then, you were going to curl up in bed.

After a couple of hours, Jake left and you wondered how long it would take before Josh came in to bug you, but he didn’t. You listened for his footsteps coming toward your door, but you could hear him in the living room, turning the page of a book every now and again.

Eventually, you couldn’t help yourself - you threw the blankets off and stood. The stiffness in your muscles was a poor consolation prize for the day.

He looked up at you, shutting his book instantly, his homework caught between the pages.

“Hey,” he greeted quietly. He patted the spot next to him on the couch. “I’m sorry your...thing went so poorly.”

You were too annoyed to care anymore, so you laid your head on his shoulder, letting out a long sigh. It surprised you when you felt a tear drip down your cheek and you could feel your face start to warm in response.

He heard you sniffle and his form stiffened immediately. His arm wrapped around your shoulder, pulling you tight to him.

“Did he hurt you?” It sounded like Josh’s throat was tight, making his words hoarse.

“No, he just,” You weren’t sure how to finish that. He hadn’t really hurt you, per se. “He just tried to touch me. And then he didn’t stop when I told him to.”

“What?” His tone was charmingly offended on your behalf.

“It’s okay,” you assured, wiping your face with the sleeve of your sweater. “I’m more angry than anything. I just kind of can’t believe I fell for that, you know? The whole ‘let’s study’ thing.”

“Stop that - it’s not your fault.” You could feel the hesitation as he laid his hand against your ear, but you leaned into it, grateful for the comfort.

It was quiet for a long moment while you calmed yourself down. His presence was more of a reassurance than anything else you could have imagined at the moment.

“You’re my best friend,” you breathed, turning to nuzzle your nose against the fabric of his sleeve. “And I’m lucky to have you.”

Through a smile, you heard him say, “Me too.”

#brightest blue fic #josh gvf fic #josh kiszka #josh kiszka fic #gvf fic #gvf fanfiction #.0

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sweatersstyles · 4 years ago

Text

This is my contribution to @meetmeinfleetwood‘s “to lovers” fic challenge! I chose the trope roommates to lovers and the prompt “I think I’m in love with you and I don’t know what to do.” This was fun to write thank you for allowing me to participate!

Thank you to my beta readers @tbslenthusiast, @witch-harry, and @sunflowers-styles! Y’all are the best!!

no warnings that I can think of other than alcohol tw // bc of the wine they share!

word count: 2.3k

writing tag | masterlist

It’s 5:45 p.m. when you finally leave work for the day. You should’ve just said to hell with it and went home at 5:30 like you were supposed to, but you were nice enough not to. Too nice you’d been told in the past, but it’s a flaw you’re willing to accept if it gets you a promotion to the position you ultimately dreamed of working when you started there 3 years ago.

After a quick stop to grab a bottle of wine (or two), your car can’t get you home fast enough. It’s Friday and you’re looking forward to spending time doing absolutely nothing for the next two days but curling up in a blanket and watching Christmas movies in the apartment you will essentially be alone in. Your roommate Harry shared the space with you, but kept to himself for the most part. Aside from dinners and movie nights on rare occasions when your schedule lined up, allowing you to spend the evening together.

As if your thoughts summoned him, your phone dinged, indicating a new message. Your eyes dart down to where it sits in the passenger seat, careful to keep your eyes on the car in front of you, waiting patiently for the light to turn red so you can grab your phone to respond.

It’s one simple word, “Home?” so you know he’s either still working or on his own drive home.

Your reply is just as direct, “Not yet. On my way! Movie night?”

The light’s green again so you tuck your phone back into your purse, ignoring the next ding until you arrive home. You’re through the door of your apartment and down the hall before you read his message, “Sure. Chinese or pizza?”

“Chinese! I’ll pick the movie and you pay for dinner?”

“That doesn’t sound fair :(”

“Alright fine, you get home before I’m out of the shower and in my pajamas you can pick the movie..deal?”

“Deal!”

The race is on then, both of you competitive and determined to win. You have a movie in mind that you’ve been dying to watch all day and you don’t want to have to rock-paper-scissors to break the tie like you usually do when the two of you don’t agree on who wins these little games.

You’d already shed most of your layers of clothing easily as you moved through the apartment; your boots kicked off by the door, jacket gone and thrown over the back of one of the kitchen chairs, cardigan pulled from your body and tossed on the bed by the time you made it to your bedroom. It doesn’t take long to strip the rest away and to gather a set of pajamas from your well organized drawer before darting across the hall to the shared bathroom.

You know you have at minimum 45 minutes to be done, an hour if he goes to the better Chinese place a little further across town, which he most likely would. You’d been dreaming of ending your week with a bubble bath, but you don’t take the chance now, just hop under the hot spray of the shower, hoping it will have the same relaxing effect. Your eyes are closed as you tilt your head back to wet your hair while one hand fumbles over the bottles to find your shampoo.

Eyes still closed, you tip the bottle to add a bit to your hand, but you freeze when you open your eyes temporarily to close the bottle and put it back on the shelf. It’s Harry’s shampoo you’ve grabbed instead and for a moment you don’t know what to do. You don’t know how many times you’ve teased him about how expensive his products are. But he would never let you hear the end of it if he came home and you smelled like him. Ultimately you would’ve felt too guilty to waste it, so you work it through and hope he never finds out. Pray that the act washes away just like the suds do when you rinse them from your hair.

By your hopeful calculations, you still have about 10 minutes left before he arrives by the time you're done in the shower. You decide to give him a fair advantage, venturing into the kitchen to decide which bottle of wine would pair best with dinner. When you make your selection, you pour yourself a glass, settling into a comfy spot on the couch. The black remote taunts you from the small wooden coffee, and you grab it. No harm in getting the movie ready while you wait, right?

You’re 2 glasses deep and 20 minutes into the movie when he arrives, a smirk on his face at the sight of you. Your eyes go wide when you see him. You’re not sure why, there had been many nights he’d found you in the same position, but tonight feels different. You gulp down the sip of wine, too tipsy and unaware that you’re staring. Had his dimples always been that prominent when he smiled? Even without your glasses you could spot that grin that stretched a mile wide across his face.

“Haroldddd..you’re home!”

He hated that nickname, had always despised when other people called him that, but falling from your lips it sounds like a prayer and he would gladly change his name to that if he thought it would make you the least bit happy.

“S’pose I lost, huh? Got the food pretty quickly but stopped to get this,” He holds up a bottle of wine, ironically the very same kind that you’re drinking now, “Shoulda known y’would already have some!”

“Oh good, you got some for yourself..this one’s almost empty..”

“M’not that late, am I?” He chuckles as he makes his way to the counter, looking between you and the bottle.

“Hey..it’s a small bottle! This is only my third glass and I’ve barely even touched it.”

“Rough day?” He’s pulling plates down now and retrieving a glass for himself from the cabinet.

“Rough week. Rough few weeks, really.” You take a few more sips as you watch him prepare a plate of food. You figure he’s just making his own, and you wait patiently for him to finish so you won’t be in the way. But when he makes his way around the counter, he’s holding two plates in his hand and wow you want to jump from your spot and kiss him. You restrain yourself, as hard as it may be, and try to focus on the question he’s asking you.

He holds the plates towards the table and then towards where you sit on the couch, silently wanting to know where you’d prefer to enjoy your meal. You pat the spot next to you, inviting him to move closer, knowing how much effort it would take to lift yourself from your warm, comfy spot to go eat at the table.

“Emily still on vacation?”

“Yes! And she expects us to do double the work while she’s gone! It’s her 3rd vacation this year. I know she’s the boss but..”

“Doesn’t mean she has to be a bitch to you.” He finishes your sentence for you, brow furrowed, upset at even the idea of someone mistreating you in the slightest.

“Right! Thank you!”

You hold your hand out to accept the plate he’s made for you, “Got our usual, hope that’s alright.”

“Yeah, that’s fine. I was just joking earlier about you paying for all of it. I’ll pay you back for my half.”

He’s already shaking his head no, stuffing a bite of food in his mouth, “It was my turn anyway, r‘member? You paid for those tacos we had last week.”

“Right, I did. Forgot about that.”

You watch him devour a few more bites, your eyes darting from your plate to his, “Yours looks better.”

“Huh?”

Maybe it’s the wine making you more bold, you’d normally never complain, “Your plate it just..looks better than mine. Switch with me.”

“It’s literally the same thing..and I’ve already eaten half the noodles off mine.” He looks mildly annoyed at even the suggestion.

“Don’t care..it looks better. Switch.” You realized just how bratty you sound, so you add a quick, “Please?”

He huffs dramatically, switching the plates and giving you a sarcastic smile, “Happy?”

You return his smile, blissfully unaware of his annoyance in your tipsy state, “Very, thank you.”

You both turn your attention to the tv you realize now you had forgotten to pause, so the movie had progressed further, about 30 minutes in now.

His irritation has already faded when he asks, “What are y’making me watch?”

You start to explain the plot but stop mid-bite of your food, “Wait..have you never seen this movie?”

He shrugs, “Doesn’t look familiar.”

“Oh we’re definitely starting it over then!”

“No, ya don’t hafta..”

It’s too late, you’ve already discarded your now mostly empty plate of food, nearly knocking your glass of wine over in your excitement of making him watch one of your favorite movies.

Almost an hour in, you don’t notice that Harry’s eyes have drifted to you. In fact, they’d mostly stayed on you since you’d restarted the movie. Your facial expressions were better to him than any movie; the way your eyes softened at the more heartwarming parts, or when your mouth formed a soft ‘o’ and gasped at parts he was certain you had probably seen at least a dozen times before.

You clasp your hand over your heart dramatically and he doesn’t even flinch, just listens intently when you say, “I love this part..this is the moment.”

His eyes temporarily flash back to the tv then, “The moment?”

“Yeah, you know, the moment. Where the guy looks at the girl and realizes he’s in love.” You sigh deeply, “I always wanted someone to look at me like that.”

Oh, you mean like what’s happening now between us? God he hopes for just a glance from you, a chance to show you that you’re living your own moment now if you’d just look at him.

It’s tumbling out of his mouth quicker than he can stop it, his mouth working faster than his brain, but it’s a low enough whisper he thinks maybe you won’t hear.

“I think I’m in love with you and I don’t know what to do.”

You do hear him, though you don’t believe it at first. Your hand is still resting over your heart, searching his face for any sign of teasing or dishonesty.

“H..did you just..?”

He’s looking down at his hands, fingers fiddling with one of the rings adorning his fingers, nodding before replying, “I did.”

“How long?”

“Um..since the first week we’ve lived together? That first night we made dinner together and it was a disaster. Thought you were gonna catch the place on fire.” A giggle escapes him at the memory of you, rushing around the kitchen that night, face flushed red and hair a mess.

“That’s my moment? Almost burning our apartment down?”

“That and now, yeah. Just been strugglin’ with the best way to tell you. S’pose the wine’s making me a lil’ more fearless,'' He takes a deep breath, still not able to look at you in case he finds even a hint of rejection on your face, “But I understand if you don’t feel the same..”

“I do.”

His head snaps to look at you then, eyes widening for a second before he composes himself, “Really?”

You can’t stop the smile that blooms across your face at the sight of the thrill in his eyes. There’s a new buzz of elation in the air, but neither of you make a move at first. A pleasant tension fills the space between the two of you.

You break the silence, “So..what do we do now?”

“S’all up to you how fast and how far we take this. M’all in though, ready when you are, love. A cuddle might be nice while we finish the movie, if you’re up f’that.”

“I think I could handle that. I want something else first though.”

He’s trying to read your mind, thinks he knows exactly what it is, but he wants to hear you say it. Wants to hear the words he’s been waiting to hear for what feels like a lifetime now.

“Kiss me, Harry.”

You’ve already turned your body towards him; the movie, the food and the wine all long forgotten. He clears the space between the two of you easily, a hand on the side of your neck to add just enough pressure to pull you towards him.

Your lips crash against his, noses bumping at first but it doesn’t stop you, it only makes you crave him deeper and closer. You press your knees into his thighs, pushing yourself up so that you hover over him, your hair falling around his face. It’s still slightly damp from the shower, and his hand comes to rest on the back of your head now.

There’s a smug look on his face when he pulls away, a hand still placed on your hip to hold you steady. He’s still breathless when he asks, “Did you use my shampoo?”

When you wake up in his bed the next morning, you question if last night was a mistake. You don’t regret it, not for a second, just wonder if maybe things will be different in the morning light.

So when you barely touch the plate of eggs and toast he’s made for you for breakfast, he worries you’re having second thoughts about him, that he’s ruined any friendship you’ve already built by rushing into a relationship.

So when you say, “Did you really mean what you said last night..about loving me?” He visibly relaxes, dropping his shoulders and beaming at you from across his own breakfast plate.

“Oh, darlin’,” He plucks a piece of uneaten toast from your plate, winking at you as he does, “You don’t know the half of it.”

#harry styles imagine #harry x reader #my writing

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wincore · 4 years ago

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wasted nights | liu yangyang

pairing: yangyang x reader

words: 5.5k

summary: firstly, you don’t think you should have survived this long. secondly, this might be the zombie apocalypse but your survival doesn’t feel as threatened by zombies as it does by liu yangyang. thirdly, you’ve chosen the worst time to develop a crush.

genre: zombie apocalypse!au, fluff, humour(?)

warnings: mention of injuries & blood, violence (against zombies), dumbassery, do not attempt during an actual zombie apocalypse

song rec(s): wasted nights - one ok rock

a/n: october birthdays get halloween specials~ although this one is just full of unnecessary appearances by cats. also campfires because october campfires hit different. (i’m definitely saying this because i was born in october) also not me writing this as a joke and reaching 5.5k words </3

It’s two hours till sundown.

What would you be doing on a day within the ordinary? Likely getting back from after school activities, chatting with a friend or feeding the stray kittens by the school building, or maybe pretending Liu Yangyang doesn’t exist—the possibilities were endless. Now there’s only one.

“Yangyang,” you call, more worried than not.

On a day out of the ordinary, you wish you hadn’t prayed for your exam to get cancelled the day all of this broke out. You wouldn’t be scavenging like some sort of rodent and you wouldn’t be standing at the gates of an abandoned shrine, though now is undoubtedly a better time to pray. It’s not the best of situations (especially not with a certain little rascal attached to your side).

And understatements are definitely your thing now.

“Yangyang,” you call a little louder this time, eyes shifting around the shrine area.

Should you step in? He asked you to wait, the stone steps now looking a little glum without him skipping over them. The only signs of life you’ve seen around has been a family of raccoons looking rather smug and a single spotted dove preening itself atop a branch. The lack of visibility into the forest surrounding the shrine bothers you, like something could jump out any minute and you suck your teeth, growing annoyed. Where is that boy?

You tap your foot against the ground soundlessly. What if a zombie were to pop out? They might be slow but the sight of them is still gross enough to paralyze you. Yangyang has his baseball bat with him, which leaves you defenseless in terms of weapons. Still, it’s not like the bat would have done you any good. You are, in the truest sense of the word, average at any sort of combat and freezing at the limbs comes to you more naturally. Zombies are not fun; whatever nonsense Yangyang has been trying to explain to you for weeks is optional, as is every other suggestion that comes from his mouth. It’s quiet and quiet, creepy shrines have never been your favourite place in the city.

You hear a low growl behind you, stiffening at the sound. Best case scenario, it’s a big rat. You’d rather not think of the worst case. Eventually, you gather some courage and turn slowly only to jump back with a short scream.

Yangyang takes the old festival mask off to reveal a giant grin on his face, urging you to knock it right off. The anger that follows is natural and he should be used to it by now. Yangyang continues smiling, as if he didn’t just pull your soul right out of your body, and when he opens his mouth to say something, you’re quick to land a swift punch to his gut. He lets out a pained cry, dropping to the ground in a squat.

“Don’t do that,” you seethe. “Why can’t you greet me normally?”

“I’m okay!” He signals a thumbs up while the other hand clutches his stomach.

“I didn’t ask.”

He moves his hand to place it over his chest. “Ow. Oh, and to answer your question, it’s because you don’t want to do my special handshake with me.”

“Hm. Get up. You said there were supplies here. What did you find?”

He pouts, finally getting up. “I can’t believe you’re just using me for supplies.”

You cross your arms. “Just get up already.”

Yangyang springs up despite the (admittedly) strong blow to his stomach and presents to you the plastic bag he’d been holding. In any other circumstances, it would spark some disapproval on your behalf but it turns out, those things do outlive most everything. For a moment, the ridiculous image of pulling a plastic bag over a zombie’s head crosses your mind.

Yangyang finally responds, taking out whatever items he recovered. Not everything is useful however; he’s simply taken to collecting knick-knacks.

“I found toothbrushes! Maybe your breath will stop stinking—”

You raise your clenched fist as a threat.

“—I was kidding. Obviously. You have lovely breath.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose in an attempt to contain your exasperation.

“Also, I found clean water so I filled up some bottles and yeah, I couldn’t find much else but oh! There was this huge cat and I mean huge like a big chonk kinda guy, you know? And I’m sure he was, like, trying to tell me something, like, he kept hissing when I went near him but…”

You wonder if Yangyang ever gets tired from speaking so fast, his words fading out of your comprehension. You shake your head, clearing your throat.

“Can we leave now?”

Yangyang raises an eyebrow, almost smirking as the gears in his head turn.

“You’re not… superstitious, are you?” he asks. “I heard there’s a lot of reported sightings of ghosts here.”

“No,” you blurt, quick to deny. Yangyang might have seen you crying after getting lost in the dark, almost fainting after encountering a zombie for the first time or even in deep sorrow after you lost your friend—but there’s still part of your dignity to protect before you can admit your fear of ghosts. There’s just something about this abandoned shrine; there are no visitors apart from the caretaker and if loneliness is responsible for anything, it’s making lonely things seem a whole lot scarier. You’d rather leave before the sun sets.

Yangyang laughs. “Who do you think would win in a fight? Zombies or ghosts?”

You roll your eyes. “That’s so stupid. Obviously ghosts.”

“No. Okay, maybe. I just think…”

There he goes again.

You wonder if he was always this way—when you passed him by in the hallways, when he shot you a polite smile at club meetings or when you saw him being loud with his friends blocking part of the sidewalk. You’re sure he couldn’t have been entirely sane.

“Oh my god.”

Yangyang’s voice jerks you back to the present. You follow his line of sight to a cardboard box beneath a particularly dense shrub; it's a large one—quite possibly a carton of some commercial product which doesn’t matter anymore. However, it’s not the details of the box itself so much as it is the contents that grab your attention.

You can almost see the sparkle in Yangyang’s eyes as he views the cats huddled together inside the box. They don’t seem to mind each other within their personal space—you count four of them, tightly packed and eyes closed in a late afternoon nap. How the box hasn’t ripped apart yet is quite a mystery, and what’s more troubling is how at ease they seem to be with the entire human race in disarray.

You grab Yangyang by the collar before he can make his way to them.

“Don’t harass them,” you say, massaging your temples. “Jesus, it’s like they’re glued to each other. Do they have to be in the same box?”

“It might just be the last cardboard box left on earth.” Yangyang shrugs.

The cats mind their own business, grooming their fur or closing their eyes in an odd sort of bliss. You wonder what it would be like to be so unbothered by all the chaos. It reminds you of someone.

“Come on,” you urge, thinking back to older times. “Don’t think I forgot how much you used to bother old Louis back then.”

Louis was the university cat, fed with so much love that he eventually started avoiding people like the plague. You wonder how he’s holding up for a brief moment.

“Don’t think I forgot how you were back then too.”

“What do you mean?” you snap, glaring at him.

“You were already a zombie,” he says before engaging in a cheap mimicry of you, drooping his eyelids and taking slow steps muttering, “I… must… maintain… gpa… grr.”

You almost take off your shoe to throw it at him before deciding it’s not worth your time. Ah, if only you had done that during club meetups, perhaps you’d have felt better about him joining. Everyone treated him so differently, and you hate to admit you now understand why.

Everyone loves a good troublemaker.

And there happens to be another thing special about your sole competitor for the debate club’s president position. Apart from his strange antics (charms, he says), even this virus—this fuckall literal killer virus can’t infect him. He’s immune—an occurrence with a possibility lower than you finding him attractive. (There, you said it.)

You look at Yangyang still talking about Louis and a small smile crosses your face. You’d feed your right arm to a zombie before you admitted it but it’s nice having him around. You furrow your brows at the sudden familiar bubbling in your chest and shove it away in a flash before your conscious decides to tell you what it is.

Your heart jumps to your throat when you make eye contact with Yangyang, turning away in a rather awkward manner. Oh, the end of the world does awful things to you.

“Are you listening?” Yangyang raises an eyebrow. “Oh my god, you weren’t listening at all.”

You roll your eyes. “I was distracted.”

“By me?” he offers in a sing-song voice, prompting a smack from you. It’s easier to pretend this way.

Yangyang massages his shoulder with a huff. “Why are you hitting me so much today? I’ve counted like eight and the day’s only just over.”

“Sorry,” you mumble before clearing your throat. “I mean, you’ve also said something annoying, like, more than eight times today.”

“I’m not annoying.”

There’s a pause.

“Okay, maybe a little bit.”

The sun starts to lay in rest by the time you reach the city. Compared to the green, red and yellow of the yet standing shrine, this place is in dull monochrome with the occasional coloured signs that flicker to life. You force yourself to think but have a hard time remembering if it was always this way. Was it any different with the rushing cars or apathetic crowds? You can’t tell. You were part of them, after all.

“Hey, how about a bottle flip challenge but with traffic cones?” Yangyang thinks aloud, walking backwards as you pass by a particularly well-lit alley.

You roll your eyes in response. Is it the lack of people making him that way? Your unflustered companion looks at home among neon lights, all of them seeming to point towards him as an answer to a question you haven’t quite figured out yet.

You glance at the alley just a second longer. The electric lanterns still glow red, and although dim, there are many. The shops almost look like you could enter and be greeted with a crowd of university kids or a group of office workers drinking away in celebration of the weekend. You sigh. It’s most certainly deserted inside; there’s no doubt. At the most, the tables are still arranged neatly and the meat grills aren’t completely rusted. You wonder if it’s a Friday.

There was never much grass in the city but whatever growth there was has withered into a mustard yellow or a lamenting grey. An empty city is hardly appealing, but you can’t deny the ill-favored things you’ve done the past few months in the absence of people—a part of you questioning whether breaking into supermarkets is still against the law when no one’s around to keep it. You smile at the memory of Yangyang pushing you around in a shopping cart, though you’d gotten drunk off the (stolen) liquor prior. The neon lights hanging as a banner over sketchy shops sometimes spark alive before dying down over and over again, and to be fair, you don’t think they ever shined too bright. Ironically, they’re the liveliest thing about the city now.

The sky’s soaked in ink at a time you assume to be around seven in the evening. You walk closer to Yangyang without realizing; it’s not often you’ve been out this late the past few months.

“Hey.” Yangyang snaps you out of your daze. “Be careful.”

The words are strange coming from him but you understand why. You look up ahead with caution and a shiver runs down your spine as you stare at the intersection, a lone, tattered figure droning aimlessly. It’s only one, you tell yourself. And they’re slow.

The memories of your previous encounters send warnings over your skin, shivers begging you to run as fast as you can. You would if it weren’t for Yangyang’s grip on your hand, tugging you forward gently and though it’s something he does every time, you wonder if he knows how you’re really feeling. His footsteps are soundless, with the same red sneakers he’s worn since the beginning of this but something tells you it’s not the shoes that give him a cat’s footfall. The purple lights flicker on and off over the shop on the opposite street, the suddenness of it making you latch onto Yangyang for a short-lived moment. You’re quick to let go, throat too dry to make any sound.

You curve around what would be a straight path, careful not to be in the creature’s line of sight when you cross. The streets seem wider when they’re so empty, and somehow it feels more unlawful this way. Yangyang signals to you to stay closer, and you follow before bumping into his back when he stops abruptly. There’s absolutely no sound, the feeling in your gut much worse than at the shrine.

“Something’s wrong,” Yangyang whispers.

A strangled shriek erupts from your mouth when something launches itself onto the two of you, making you land on your butt. You would’ve placed your hands over your eyes, but you’ve learned how to be less of a coward these past few days.

A shaky breath leaves you. A cat. It was a stray cat. The little asshole looks at you with almost twinkling eyes, tail swishing from side to side before deciding you’re not worth its time. Your shoulders sag, a moment of relief despite your stiff muscles.

“Uh, (name)?”

You look up only for your stomach to fill with dread. The zombie from before is staring directly at the two of you, the same vacant look in its eyes that has haunted you for the entirety of the apocalypse.

“It’s okay, he’s too slow,” Yangyang reminds you, voice barely a whisper as he helps you stand.

“We can just take the other street—it’s a little longer but it’s mostly safe and there’s no way he can—”

Yangyang is interrupted by a sickening growl from behind you and you jump back. There’s another one. And another. You count four more before holding back a swear. Yangyang grabs you by the shoulder and the two of you take a step back, onto the sidewalk. There’s a shop behind you; you read a smeared sign above the plastic door curtains indicating a dumpling place. Even if you were to hide in there, there’s no guarantee you’d be safe.

But if you’ve learned anything in these months, it’s that anything is always better than nothing.

The night has settled in completely, you realize. You’re about to tug Yangyang to the inside as you turn around, only to freeze up in your spot. A pale woman emerges from the store, her makeup still fresh but you know that look, the look in her eyes. How cruel.

“Please,” she mumbles, taking a step towards you and you think you might just cry. It’s not long before she turns, you think with dread.

You stumble back to Yangyang when she emits a blood curdling screech, lunging at you and to either your alarm or worse, relief, Yangyang pushes you back. You watch with wide eyes as the woman sinks her teeth into his arm, nausea growing at the sight of blood. He moves fast though, his arm swinging the baseball bat to meet the woman in the head, hard enough to knock her out. In these few moments, one of the zombies is close enough to reach an arm out towards you and you swear you can hear the horrid sound of his bones cracking when you step back. The longer you remain in this state, the slower you are. You suppose you should take comfort in these words but when you look at it, you still see a man.

Hollow. They’re all hollow.

You take a deep breath.

Just as the thought crosses your head, you see Yangyang swing his bat again, meeting the zombie on the head and much to your wide-eyed horror, the head flies off into the dumpling shop and the body reacts with just about as much confusion as you do. It wildly waves about its hands in the now vacant spot before crumpling onto the road with a quiet realization.

Yangyang makes a face, pressing his knuckle to his mouth to prevent himself from what you presume is gagging. However, when you look closely, he seems to be holding back a laugh instead and very painfully so. You know he has a habit of laughing at the most inappropriate times but this, it really takes the cake.

“Home run?” he suggests, turning to you with a sheepish half-grin. There’s no hint of malice in his voice and you think that it’s probably not that he enjoys swinging his baseball bat at zombies.

“You’re disgusting,” you reply, shaking your head.

“Maybe I should leave you here then.”

You can’t believe he has the gall to be cheeky with blood running down his arm and four of the undead drooling at the sight of you two.

“Do you think we can find ingredients that aren’t stale here? I miss having dumplings.”

“Yangyang.”

“Okay, okay.”

The other ones are still far enough and the two of you take this chance to run off towards the street Yangyang mentioned earlier and safely out of view. You notice him panting heavier than before, and your eyes scan over his arm in worry. The bite is ugly, red with oozing blood, and you hold back the urge to ask him if he’s anaemic.

Yangyang follows your eyes before an ‘ah’ leaves his lips. He spins his head to the right, trying to catch a glimpse of the wound in the same manner a dog chases after its own tail. He puts the bat down to try and twist his arm to see the injury but you stop him, clicking your tongue at his silly behaviour.

“You’re not twelve, Yangyang,” you scold. “Let’s get back to the hotel first.”

He shrugs, and you think some provoking words are ready to leave his mouth when he simply picks up his bat and walks off. You blink before quickening your steps to catch up with him. The blood dripping down his forearm makes you feel a little unwell but you know better than to touch infections.

It takes around fifteen minutes longer than usual to reach the hotel—Yangyang was right. It is safer here, with no zombies lurking around the corners. He must have been out late when he was scouting, you think with distaste.

You reach the now-rusting gates of your haven without trouble and the moment you reach, Yangyang falls to his knees, heaving a breath he seems to have been holding. You rush to him, eyes frantic when you reach your hand out to him, and he flinches, moving away from you.

“Don’t,” he mutters before getting up. “You turning into a real zombie would be my personal nightmare.”

It’s not enough to curb your worry but you follow him nonetheless, the stupid, wavering grin on his face making you unable to decipher what he’s really feeling.

The familiar smell of honeysuckle washes into you as you pass by the entrance, locking the door behind you as Yangyang falls onto one of the chairs in the lobby. Kunhang happened to be passing by, a muffled swear leaving him when he sees the blood on Yangyang’s arm.

“You didn’t touch him, did you?” he asks, pulling on his gloves to further see the wound. A former med student is the best you have here, and somehow, you’ve never seen him complain about having to take care of someone as bothersome as Yangyang.

You shake your head in reply to Kunhang and watch as he runs from shelf to shelf to procure more bandages than you’ve ever seen in your life. You’ve been seeing an awful lot lately.

“We’re going to run out of bandages in a week if he keeps this up,” Kunhang says with a frown, moving so fast you can barely see his hands. “He’ll be okay, I guess. The virus just makes him dizzy.”

He’s probably thinking the same thing you are. Something serious happening to Yangyang is a little bit of a miracle. Maybe he’ll finally be set right in the head.

Even so, you know Kunhang is worried despite his quick response, his frown lines deepening once he’s done wrapping up. He sighs before waltzing off to discard his gloves.

It’s not that you aren’t impressed by Kunhang; you’ve just seen him do that too many times to count. And of course, it’s mostly Yangyang on the receiving end. They might be good friends but this also happens to be the only time they're serious together. Moreover, Kunhang seems to beat Yangyang in the talking-for-twelve-hours-straight department. You have to admit though, being in charge of first aid for the few people stuck in this hotel is not an easy business.

You take a seat opposite to Yangyang, dozing off in his chair and wonder if you should wipe the drool off his chin. Disgusting, you think to yourself, but another part of you dares to offer the word cute.

The best thing about barricading yourself in a hotel during the apocalypse is not having to worry about beds. There’s at least five hundred rooms in this skyrise, more than enough for, what, sixteen people? The place is so big that you hardly run into the others. The only rule around here is regarding the pantry—to write down who’s taken what on the notepad stuck to one corner. Despite what movies show, people are far more helpful to each other in times of need, more so than usual even. You relax into the chair, the velvet cushion feeling comfortable against your back.

There’s a nice communal feeling in this place.

You frown. It’s not like you can stay here forever.

At the very least, you can pretend each sundown and sunrise is ordinary here. You close your eyes, and slowly, thoughts of why you’re trying so hard to remember life before this drift away.

Yangyang wakes up before you do, grinning like crazy as he shrugs you awake. You stare at him through groggy eyes, untangling your limbs from yourself. The cold seeps into you and you shiver, hugging yourself.

“We found the keys to the lounge,” he rushes, albeit in a gentle voice. “Guess what?”

“Unh?”

“There’s a campfire spot over there! The others already started but I thought I should wake you up.”

It’s just like him to be excited about something like that. You get up nevertheless, Yangyang pulling you through the stairs and onto the only elevator that seems to work around here. There’s quite a few things about this hotel left to be figured out. You’re going to have to start worrying anyway when the power from the generator runs out.

Kunhang and an older man, Mr Kang, are the only ones there once you reach. You had expected it but the lounge is gigantic and a small part of it provides the artificial campfire area. There are paintings of wild animals and trees for children, you assume, on the walls only cut off by a large vent on the ceiling. The fire burns bright over the large circle of soil and firewood, whose authenticity is debatable. You sigh at the warmth, having grown tired of the autumn weather’s mood swings.

Kunhang greets the two of you with a grin before delicately poking Mr Kang to at least acknowledge your presence. It’s funny, the lot of you.

The place is a little small, considering there’s a literal fire in the middle of the room. You almost sit on Yangyang because he shifts too suddenly at Mr Kang’s disapproval of proximity, a small yelp leaving you whereas Yangyang, for the first time, looks like he’d rather die. He mutters an apology, and two of you manage to sit a good two feet apart, sudden awkwardness rising in the air—all of it unnoticed by Mr Kang. You heard he was a banker but if Kunhang and Yangyang had a polar opposite, it would most certainly be him. You can’t even remember the man’s voice.

You think you should say something but Kunhang’s laughter breaks the silence. There’s an unspoken exchange between him and Yangyang, piquing your curiosity though you aren’t sure what you should be asking. You just assume it’s one of their stupid inside jokes.

“I left your gift on your table. You can add it to your dumb shoe collection,” Kunhang tells Yangyang, smiling before standing up to stretch. “I’m going to bed. Mr Kang, won’t you accompany me?”

Mr Kang gets up begrudgingly and you’re about to ask them to stay longer when Kunhang turns to you enthusiastically. “Good night, (name). Don’t have too much fun. Although, I suppose there’s no better time to have too much fun either.”

You watch with furrowed brows as the two disappear into the doorway and down the stairs. You spend a couple of moments in silence before clearing your throat. When it goes unnoticed, you turn to Yangyang despite the warmth on your face.

“It’s not dumb,” he mutters to himself, a little zoned out.

You stare at him for a few moments and the familiar feeling rises in your throat, now with a little voice to accompany it.

Cute.

You cough, distracting yourself with any and all thoughts you would rather have, even of the zombies. Now isn’t the time—or is it the perfect time? You shake your head, calming yourself.

“Does it… hurt?” You ask, eyeing Yangyang’s arm.

He looks up as if broken from a daze, the campfire lights still dazzling in his eyes. You hold back a laugh. He really is a child; if he’s so easily mesmerized by fires, that is.

“Probably not any worse than the lady I whack-a-mole’d. Now that must’ve hurt.” Yangyang puffs his cheek before looking straight at you.

You stare back. It’s not the weirdest thing he’s said.

“What? I feel bad beating the crap out of zombies sometimes,” he says, scratching the back of his head.

You hum in response. The thought of Yangyang developing a conscience is almost as bad as having to think about zombies. Though, you’ll have to admit, it does give you a strange relief. Zombies can’t really feel pain—they are, after all, numb in every possible sense—but some part of you wonders if it’s alright like this. Morals and survival aren’t meant to overlap.

You feel the need to distract yourself with something.

“Hey,” you call, moving closer to Yangyang such that your shoulders almost touch. Before you know it, you brush the hair from his face, trying to style the mess into something more neat—a thing you’ve been wanting to do since the first time you saw him. Every time you’d see the messy mop of hair at an official event of the debate club, you’d have this strong urge and an almost putrid form of annoyance. You still don’t know how he managed to get in.

“You don’t look terrible with parted hair,” you muse. “You could’ve looked more decent at the debates.”

You look down from his hair to see Yangyang frozen, eyes wide as if a deer in the headlights.

“Are- Are you not breathing?” you ask.

Yangyang sucks in a large chunk of air, fast enough to choke on it and break into a coughing fit as he turns away from you. You reach out to pat his back but he waves his hand at you, indicating he’s fine before he can turn to you.

You look at him with no particular emotion, the night breeze having worked its way to you.

“What was that about a gift? Are you and Kunhang getting things for each other without telling me?” you say, trying to lighten the atmosphere.

There's a short pause, filled with the crackling of fire.

“It’s my birthday,” Yangyang says with a small smile as the campfire lights dance across his cheeks.

And yet, the words come out sad as if he’d been waiting for an occasion to tell you. You look at him, eyes widening ever so slightly accompanied by the loss of words and take a sharp breath.

“I’m not going to ask for a gift,” Yangyang teases. “Don’t look so worried.”

You open your mouth and close it again, unable to explain the gentle wash of sadness overcome you when you see just a boy. For all the talking he does, he never asks for much.

“I mean, I- I liked spending the day with you. Why do you look so sad? Did I say something? Again?”

You look over his features, from his brow bone to his wide eyes to his lips and the conclusion arrives as gently as the end of the world. What’s the worst that could happen?

You quickly pull him into a hug, still careful of his injury, and a vaguely embarrassing sound escapes Yangyang, something akin to a sheep’s call. He clears his throat which turns into coughing before he can wrap his arms around you, his breathing soft against your shoulder.

“I’m- I’m alive, you know? I don’t think I’m dying any time soon. I- I can’t even get infected! You know that.”

“That’s not why I’m- I…” You pull back, steeling your eyes so you don’t feel the warmth of embarrassment.

Just like you prepare for debates, you think to yourself. Maybe Yangyang was right about you being a zombie—the way you follow the same drudging formula.

“I like you,” you say, your words more of a strained whisper but they’re out before you know it. You can fake confidence, you tell yourself. It’s horrible timing and spending your (potentially) last days with someone who rejected you is just another way to shoot yourself in the foot.

But part of you has been wanting to do this for so long that you almost don’t mind.

Yangyang sucks in a breath, pressing his knuckles to his mouth as he straightens.

“That was- Wow. Okay. I- Uh. Wow.”

You let the heat grow stronger in your cheeks, racking your head for an explanation or even a lie. Maybe you can say it was a mistake.

“I- I meant…” You lose track of your words. You can’t lie.

“I’ve never been confessed to,” he blurts, and if you squint, you swear you can see him blushing.

“Huh?”

Yangyang coughs again, followed by the same embarrassing sound. “That was- That was the first time.”

The silence between you is accompanied by the crackling of fire and the soft path-making of wind. You’re at a loss for words, something that you should be used to by now—they clearly belong to someone else.

“Oh my god, that was so stupid,” he says, pulling a horrified face as he frantically waves his hands about. “I meant to say I like you too but I- I guess I forgot to say it out loud. Ah, crap- I sound even stupider now, don’t I?”

Your lips twitch, trying to contain your smile but you’re seized with uncontrollable laughter anyway. The mortified expression on Yangyang’s face makes you burst into another fit of giggles before you can somewhat compose yourself.

“I think that’s the longest you’ve been quiet for,” you say in between recurring laughter. “Did anyone ever tell you being able to talk fast doesn’t get you ahead in debate clubs?”

Yangyang frowns.

“Oh, I just joined because I thought it’d get on your nerves,” he says, not a hint of jest in his voice.

You straighten away from him, the smile dropping from your face.

“You can’t be serious.”

He grins sheepishly, scratching the back of his head and offering no explanation. You huff in exasperation, getting up abruptly to avoid another oncoming headache. It’s a little difficult, considering you have the human version of it right beside you.

“Wait- Where are you going?” Yangyang scrambles up to his feet. “It’s my birthday, you know?”

You turn around and put your hands on your hips, a small smile on your face at the sight of him. “It’s midnight already.”

“Oh. How was I supposed to know?”

You laugh, shaking your head. Maybe the little rascal is special.

“Hey,” Yangyang calls. “You know, since this is the end of the world and all…”

You stare at him, heartbeat erratic at the lack of distance and despite the fading of teenage fantasies. Yangyang shifts nervously, glancing here and there while simultaneously trying to keep eye contact with you, an action which makes you hold back a chuckle. There’s a particular twinkle in his eyes but he can’t seem to be able to look at you straight.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks, finally.

And what a daring end to the world it is.

#yangyang x reader #wayv x reader #cznnet #yangyang scenarios #wayv scenarios #yangyang imagines #wayv imagines #yangyang fluff #nct x reader #nct imagines #nct scenarios #moonwrites #if you think the header is stupid thats bcs it is #graphic design is my passion <3 #you can pry the troublemaker x good kid trope out of my cold dead hands :)

389 notes · View notes

bellafarella · 4 years ago

Note

angst 17 and/or fluff 13 and/or misc 1

choices 😉

Thanks for sending me these!! I wrote for all 3; the angst one is a fic on it’s own, and the fluff & misc are in a fic together.

The sentences came from this post

You can also read both of these here: angst & fluff/misc

**********************************************

Put your arms around me

Angst #17: “If you don’t hug me right now I think I might fall apart.”

Ian and Mickey have been taking care of Franny for the past three months. Debbie took off with her loser, new girlfriend and she promises she’ll be back in another two months. She was going to take Franny with her but Mickey offered to let them watch her. Franny got all excited, begging her mom to let her stay with her favorite uncles. Debbie relented and took off the next day. Ian and Mickey have a second bedroom in their new apartment that they were going to convert into a guest room anyway so this became Franny’s room until Debbie comes back for her child.

Ian picks Franny up from school, meeting her in front. She rips her mask off as she runs over to him, hugging his legs. “Hey Fran,” he greets her, tapping her back.

“Hi,” she says in her tiny voice. “No uncle Mickey?” she asks when she lets go, looking up at him and shrugging her shoulders.

“Not today, he had something to do,” Ian tells her. “We’ll meet him back at home later.”

“Okay,” she says simply. She takes his hand when he offers it to her and the two walk off school grounds. He asks her how school was as they make their way to the ambulance parked down the street. Ian has Franny ride in the back, strapped in so that she stays safe as he drives them back home.

They get inside the apartment, Ian locking the door behind them as Franny runs in. “Go wash your hands, Fran,” he yells after her.

“I know!” she yells back in her little voice.

Ian walks to the kitchen sink to wash his own hands. As he dries them off, he feels his phone vibrating in his pocket. It’s from a private number so he picks up just in case, “Hello?”

“Hello, is this Ian Gallagher?” the person on the other end asks.

“Um, yes, who is this?” he asks, making his way back to the living room where Franny is now dumping her stuff from her school bag on the coffee table.

“I’m calling from South Shore Hospital. We have a Mikhailo Milkovich that was brought in today and -”

“What happened? Is Mickey okay? I’m his husband,” he says in a panic, realizing they must know he’s his husband since they called him.

“Yes, sir. Mikhailo was in an accident, he’s okay, but he’s asked us to call you,” the person tells him.

“I’m on my way now,” he tells him before the person tells him where exactly he is and then he hangs up. “C’mon Franny, we gotta go get uncle Mickey.”

“Can I bring a toy?” Franny asks.

“Just one,” Ian tells her.

Franny grabs one of her toys quickly from her room before the two are back out the door and in the ambulance. Ian doesn’t park too close, seeing as this is still a stolen ambulance, and the two walk the rest of the way to the hospital.

Ian finds the nurse’s station of who he spoke to on the phone before she leads him to Mickey’s room. Franny’s holding Ian’s hand as they make their way inside and see Mickey laying on the hospital bed with his leg in a cast.

“Oh my God, Mick,” Ian says, tears threatening to fall already.

Franny lets go of Ian’s hand to run to Mickey’s side, she looks at him and he says, “Hey, kid.”

“Are you okay, uncle Mickey?” she asks so softly he barely hears it.

“I’m okay,” he tells her but he looks up at Ian, nodding his head softly, reassuringly.

Ian joins them closer to Mickey and leans down, kissing him softly on the lips. He pulls back and asks, “What the hell happened?”

“Some jackass wasn’t looking and hit me with his fuckin’ car,” Mickey tells him. “Fractured my leg. They said I’ll be in this cast for like six to eight weeks.”

Ian looks down at his leg in the cast and how this could have been so much worse. A fractured leg is nothing but had this car hit him harder or at a different angle and -

Ian starts tearing up and Mickey says, “Hey, Ian, I’m okay,” his hand grabbing his where it’s resting on the bed beside him.

“If you don’t hug me right now I think I might fall apart,” Ian tells him, letting the tears slip down his cheeks.

“Come here,” Mickey mumbles, pulling him closer. Ian leans down and Mickey wraps his arms around Ian awkwardly seeing as he’s sitting up in bed and Ian’s crouching down.

Ian shoves his face in the crook of Mickey’s neck and lets the tears fall, breathing in his scent, and praying to whatever God there is that his husband is okay and here in his arms.

Ian feels Franny hugging his legs so he pulls back and lifts her up. Mickey pats the bed next to him, away from his broken leg, and Ian puts her down next to him. Ian sits in the chair, pulling it right up beside the bed and waits. The doctor comes in not much longer to explain to them both what Mickey can and cannot do for the first couple of weeks and how recovery will go, before they are free to go.

Ian wheels Mickey out of the hospital in a wheelchair with Franny walking closely beside him. He brings Mickey all the way to their stolen ambulance in the wheelchair, helps him into the vehicle and tells them both to wait there before rushing back to return the wheelchair and running back to get them all home.

That night while they’re lying in bed, Ian sleeping on the other side of his fractured leg, he snuggles close, resting his head on his chest. “I felt like my heart was going to drop out of my ass when I got a call from the hospital saying you were in an accident,” Ian whispers.

Mickey’s arm is wrapped around him and he’s soothingly running his fingers up and down Ian’s arm. “I’m okay,” he says softly.

“It could have been so much worse though, Mick…”

“It wasn’t though. I’m right here,” Mickey reassures him.

“Uncle Mickey?” they hear from the open doorway.

“C’mon in, Fran,” Mickey tells her.

“Be careful of uncle Mickey’s leg,” Ian reminds her.

Franny slowly climbs onto the bed, Ian moving over so she can get in the middle. She snuggles right up against Mickey like Ian just was and says, “I’m happy you’re okay.”

“Me too,” Mickey tells her, kissing her forehead.

Ian snuggles up behind her, reaching his arm over so he can hold Mickey’s hand. Mickey squeezes his hand and the three of them fall asleep together, thankful that Mickey’s okay.

/////////////

A teenage crush

Misc #1: “All I do is drink coffee and say bad words.” & Fluff #13: “Are you flirting with me?” “You finally noticed?”

Ian hates his warehouse job. Well, he doesn’t hate one part about it, which is his very grumpy but very hot supervisor, who on his first day meeting him was told, “All I do is drink coffee and say bad words.” It immediately made Ian like him.

Ian hasn’t had a legal job since he worked at the Kash’n’Grab when he was like fourteen. So much has happened in the last ten years. Most of it bad but also some good. He was able to finally get stable after being diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder like his mother and he found himself this job. It’s been about six months that he’s working for Amazon and the only good part about coming to work every day is seeing his supervisor.

Usually people don’t develop massive crushes on their superiors but not Ian. The first day he started and he met Mickey Milkovich, Ian thought his heart would jump out of his chest. He’s never felt this way before. He’s been with plenty of men in his short lifetime but there’s something about Mickey that - mmph. He makes Ian act like a teenager with a crush again.

Mickey is abrasive. He has crude knuckle tattoos. He has the most fowl, dirty mouth Ian’s ever heard. He has piercing blue eyes and black hair. He’s been at the center of Ian’s dreams for the past six months.

He has no idea what Mickey’s sexuality is. They don’t hang out. Mickey’s the warehouse supervisor, he’s his boss. They chat here and there but it’s never anything more than pleasantries. Mickey doesn’t do small talk and has told him multiple times to ‘shut the fuck up and get back to work, Gallagher’. But Ian has his suspicions. He’s noticed Mickey’s eyes wandering his body when he comes into work in tight shirts or if his jeans are a little more snug than he normally wears.

Ian tries to get Mickey to notice him more than just his employee. He wants to spend time with him outside of work. He wants to bend him over and fuck him, give him the best dick he’s ever had.

Ian snaps out of it, trying to get back to work. He continues going through the box, making sure the products aren’t expired. It’s not the most thrilling job Ian’s ever had but it’s a stable job, a stable paycheck - even if it’s minimum wage - so it’s giving him the security and stability he needs in his life right now.

“Gallagher,” he hears and knows immediately it’s Mickey. He smiles to himself before turning around to see the shorter man making his way over with his trusty clipboard. He looks so good today. He looks good everyday but today he has on some dark blue jeans and a burgundy crewneck sweater that’s rolled up his forearms.

“Hey, Mick, what’s up?” Ian says, going for nonchalant and not like he was just checking his boss out.

Mickey rolls his eyes slightly like he always does when Ian says Mick. No one else calls him that but he doesn’t tell Ian to stop so he doesn’t, he likes the tiny smile he sometimes gets from him when he calls him that. “When you’re done with those, come see me in my office,” he tells him.

Ian gets a sudden wave of nausea and panic. Mickey must notice because he clicks his tongue and says, “Man, calm down, you’re fine. Just - come see me after, yeah?”

Ian nods, mutters out a, “Yeah,” before Mickey walks away.

Ian works quickly, wanting this over with so he could see what Mickey wants. He said you’re fine so this can’t be a bad thing, he can’t be getting fired… right?!

Less than an hour later, Ian knocks on Mickey’s open door. He has a tiny office in the corner of the warehouse. It’s not much but it’s his own private space so that must be nice. “Hi,” he says softly when Mickey looks up.

“Come in, shut the door,” Mickey tells him.

Ian nervously steps inside, closing the door behind him before walking over to the chair on the other side of Mickey’s desk and sits down. Mickey says, “So I have a job opportunity for you.”

“What?” Ian asks a little louder than he expected.

Mickey smiles softly before it disappears. “Yeah, man, what did you think I was gonna fire your ass?”

“Kind of,” Ian tells him honestly, making Mickey laugh.

Mickey clicks his tongue, “I told you you were fine, man.”

“How fine?” Ian tries to flirt.

It fails because Mickey’s eyebrows shoot up and he asks, “What?”

“Nothing, so a job opportunity?”

“Uh, yeah, so I’m leaving and they need a new warehouse supervisor and figured you should do it,” Mickey tells him.

“Wait - what? Where are you going?”

“Another job opportunity elsewhere for more pay. So, you interested or not? You get a higher salary and benefits.”

“Why me? I’ve only been here six months,” Ian asks confused.

“It won’t be for another couple months or so but - look, you’re a hard worker, you don’t take any shit, you work quickly and efficiently and you’re always on time and never call in sick. I was told to choose a replacement and I chose you,” Mickey explains, shrugging a little right at the end, looking a little nervous.

Ian smiles softly. Hearing Mickey say these things about him - things he’s noticed about him, it makes him feel really good. “Fuck yeah - I - sorry, yes, I’m definitely interested in the job,” Ian stammers.

Mickey smiles at him and nods. “Good so there’s like paperwork and shit you’re gonna need to fill out. Do you have anywhere to be right after your shift or can we do that then?”

“That works,” Ian grins.

Mickey nods again before saying, “Cool, now get the fuck out of my office and get back to work, Gallagher.”

Ian can’t get rid of his grin as he stands and leaves his office. He’s getting a promotion and Mickey won’t be his boss soon so he needs to try and seal the deal soon. Spending some time together after work is exactly what Ian had been hoping for since he started this job.

Ian’s working late tonight, doing some overtime since a few people called out today so by the end of his shift it just seems to be him and Mickey left in the warehouse. He quickly uses the washroom, making sure he doesn’t look too much like shit before heading to Mickey’s office. Just like earlier, the door is open so he knocks on the side lightly and says, “Hey,” before walking in and going to sit across from him.

“Hey, did everyone else fuck off yet?” Mickey asks him.

Ian can’t help but chuckle lightly. “Yeah, just us.”

Mickey hums, eyeing Ian. Ian sees this look, appreciates it, and definitely wants to jump on it but before he can, Mickey looks down at his desk and grabs a stack of papers. “So, this is what you gotta fill out. Mostly stupid information shit we already know and just some other forms mostly for you to keep that shows proof of your increase in salary and the benefits you’ll get. Just need to make sure you sign the copies for us and the rest you keep,” he explains.

Ian takes it from Mickey’s offering and quickly glances through it. “Do you need this back right away?” he looks up to see Mickey watching him.

“Nah, just bring our copies back whenever,” Mickey tells him. He thumbs at his bottom lip gently and Ian just wants to bite it. “Don’t wanna keep you if you got somewhere to be or whatever.”

Ian smirks, “Are you flirting with me?”

Mickey smirks right back and says, “You finally noticed?”

This shocks Ian. “Sorry what?! When did you ever flirt with me before?” he asks.

Mickey rolls his eyes, “Maybe it ain’t obvious or whatever but I’m your boss, man… can’t just straight up tell you I want you to fuck me in my office.”

Ian’s heartbeat speeds up and blood rushes straight to his cock, it twitching in his jeans. “You - I -”

“Just get the fuck on me already,” Mickey says, putting him out of his misery.

Ian stands, pushing his chair back. He walks around the desk in time for Mickey to stand before he’s grabbing his face in his hands and kissing him hard on the lips. Mickey moans into the kiss, his hands grabbing onto Ian’s waist and pulling him hard against him. Ian brings his right hand down Mickey’s side and to his thigh, lifting it slightly and pushing Mickey up against his desk before he hops up and sits on it, Ian getting in between his legs.

“Wanted this for so long,” Ian tells him as he kisses his way down his jaw and to his neck.

“Mmm, me too,” Mickey says, running his fingers through Ian’s hair and keeping his head where it is, sucking on his neck.

Ian pulls back slightly, looking into those piercing blue eyes that he’s fantasized about looking back at him just this way. They hear a noise from outside of his office so Ian steps back. Mickey jumps off the desk and makes his way to the door. He looks out and turns back to Ian, “Just the cleaning crew. We should probably -”

“You wanna come over? Um, if you want to like pick up where we left off?” Ian asks hopefully, a small smile on his face.

“You live alone?” Mickey asks, eyebrow cocked.

“Um… no,” Ian says, sadness creeping in that his one shot with Mickey got ruined.

“I do. Grab your shit and let’s go back to my place, Red,” Mickey flirts.

Ian grins, doing exactly what he’s told before the two of them rush out of there and Ian gets exactly what he’s wanted for the past six months, Mickey Milkovich, more than just his boss.

Send me some sentence prompts

#southside-forever #reply #my fic #sentence prompt fics #ian x mickey #gallavich #gallavich fanfic #gallavich fan fic #gallavich fan fiction #read on ao3 #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #franny gallagher #shameless us #shameless au #fic stuff #coworkers au #hurt and comfort #uncle mickey and franny r bffs

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jotaros-left-nut · 3 years ago

Text

Josuke’s little girl

Your daughters name Y/d/n

You checked the house number for the 4th time before, this definitely the higashikata household, you rang the door and waited nervously for someone to open up, “Josuke, see who’s at the door”, you recognised that voice anywhere it was tomoko, I never been so nervous about anything before, I hope he’s happy to me see, after a year of only talking to him on the phone, the door opened it to reveal, your beautiful boyfriend in his school uniform, he has a comb in his left hand, when he saw you he dropped his comb to the floor and pulled you in for a hug, you put one arm around his slim waist, you missed the warmth of his body against yours, he looked down to see a toddler holding your other hand

“Who is this?” You picked her up and placed her on your hip, “This is your daughter Y/d/n”, you say bouncing her on your hip because she was now burying her little face in your T-shirt, she’s shy around new people, “Come in I don’t want her getting cold” he closed the door after the two of you and lead you into the living room, you took a seat on the sofa, he sat down on the seat next to yours, “Can I hold her?” He asked eyeing the little one who was still hiding her face, you nodded your head and picked her up and gave her to her father

He was so gentle when picking her up, He looked at her little face and could immediately see himself, her eyes were closed shut, she was so excitedly see him before, “Y/d/n, open your eyes” you told her in a soft voice, she shook her head no, “Don’t you wanna see what daddy looks like?” You asked the small child, “Daddy?” She whispered very quietly, excited to finally meet him, she slowly opened her eyes to look him, but immediately shut them again, there was a little smile on her face, Josuke smiled at her “Don’t worry, Y/d/n were gonna have plenty of time to get to know each other”, he told his daughter in the softest voice

“Why didn’t you tell me you were pregnant?” He asked watching the toddler who was playing with his oversized heat pin on his jacket, “When I went to study abroad I didn’t know I was pregnant for a long time, but when I realised, I pankier because, I will sound kinda dumb now that I’m saying It out loud but, I thought I was protecting you, I knew your mum would kill you and I didn’t want you to drop out” It definitely didn’t sound all that smart when you said it out loud “You wanted to protect me? you must have gone through hell all by yourself” he sounded so sympathetic “Don’t worry, I had some family helping me”

“So what made you change your mind and finally tell me?” He concentrated on his daughter making sure she doesn’t fall from his lap “Well I knew I had to tell you eventually and my program ended and” you were caught guard when Tomoko poked her head around the door, “Who was it at the door?” Her hard gaze soften when she saw you, she smiled at you as a hello, you smiled back at her but her eyes went wide when she saw a toddler on her son’s lap, “Whose baby is that?” she asked with worry in her voice, “This is our daughter, Y/d/n”, She picked the toddler up from her son’s arms and examined her, “She's got your blue eyes and her hair is already touching her shoulders she's definitely yours” she placed Y/d/n in your arms, “Mom, can you unfreeze my account so I can pay for baby stuff?” josuke asked his mother, with his hands pressed together in a praying motion

“Look, I have to go work, I’ll unfreeze it on the way and you better pay for baby stuff and only baby stuff, but we will talk about the living arrangements when I get back, For the baby’s sake I’ll call the school and tell them that you won’t be attending for a while, She left the room, you here the door open, JOSUKE!, ARE YOU THERE? He walked into the room. Aren't you coming to school today?, he “Hey Y\n it feels like I haven’t seen you in a while, is this your little sister? She is so cute” he crouched down in front, “This is Y\d\n, my, our daughter” Josuke told his close friend, “Does that mean I’m an uncle?” he sounded so excited “I guess so” Josuke replied to back back, “My...name...is ...Okuyasu, I’m your daddy’s best friend in the wwwhhhhooolllee wiiiddddeeee world” he playfully shook her tiny hands, “But you can just call me, uncle yasu”

“Do need to get some baby stuff?, because There’s a huge box of baby things from when my uh Mr joestar, bought all that stuff for Shizuka, I’ll get it” josuke got up from his chair and walked towards the garage, remember josuke telling me that Shizuka is his adopted sister, you thought to yourself, Okuyasu sat down where josuke was sitting, “Y\n can I hold her?” Okuyasu asked “Of course,” you said, she has to start getting used to being around people, it's better to start early you put Y\d\n to her feet, Okuyasu held his arms out for her, she was hesitant at first but, she slowly walked towards, he picked her up, “I'm gonna be the best uncle ever, he said to her holding the toddler on his hip, Josuke came pushing a pram into the room with 2 cardboard boxes labelled baby stuff resting on it, There are every type of, pacifiers, diaper and baby bottles in these two boxes and here's a pram” You smiled at him, “This is perfect Josuke thank you” you got up from the chair and pulled your boyfriend into a hug, can he be any more perfect? You thought to yourself, you stood up on your tiptoes and kissed his chin, he got the hint and leaned down to kiss you on the lips

The phone rang, Josuke broke the kiss to go answer it, “Hello...Oh hi, Koichi….No me and Okuyasu aren't coming in today….It's because I’m spending time with my….daughter...I know it was a shock too but there's no doubt she's mine... okay I’ll see you after school” he put the phone down, “It was Koichi” he walked back to us in the front room, and sat into the other seat, What are we gonna do about a baby crib?

A couple of hours have passed, You heard a knock at the door, you went to open it revealing, your boyfriend, and your daughter who was peacefully sleeping in his arms, with his free hands he pushing the pram, which contained two huge bags strapped to where the baby would sit and a baby crib box resting on top of it,

You took your daughter, out of his hands, so he can concentrate on getting everything in, “So how as she?” You asked your boyfriend who was pushing the pram behind you, “She was no bother it didn’t take long for her to open up to me, we were best friends in no time” you smiled at that thought, “Did You make sure to feed her and change her diaper?” You asked raising your eyebrow at him, “Of course, like her father she can eat a lot” A huge smile spread on your face, you picked up one of the bags but your boyfriend stopped you, “Let’s go upstairs”

“Okay, Are you sure your gonna be able to manage that?” He picked up the boxed crib and held it above his head, “Of course I can” you picked up the two bags that were heavy but you to managed and followed behind him, “How did the job thing go?” He asked, “It was alright, I must have given out about 30 cv’s, I’m just hoping a get a call soon” you replied dropping the bags as soon as you take one step in

“How did you get the money to afford all of this?” you asked your boyfriend, who Had put the box down and open it, He didn’t even look at the instructions, but begun suddenly, all of the pieces began to move and fit together as it was magic, you watched in amazement, you knew that josuke has a stand that you’ve never seen, but it will still cool to watch things move around, he leaned his body over halfway and pressed his hands at the bottom of it, “You can put her in here now, it’s sturdy”, he moved out the way so you can put your daughter in, she was still peacefully asleep

You turned to look at your boyfriend “I’m curious to know what you bought” you told your boyfriend talking in a hushed tone to not wake your baby, you picked up one of the bags and started looking through it “I bought someee, jackets, trousers, jeans, shorts, shoes, and I restocked some of my favourite hair products he told you “And for our daughter?” You asked your boyfriend hoping he remembered to get some stuff for Y/d/n, “Don't worry Y/n, I should never forget about the little one, there should be some jackets, shoes, skirts, dresses and some baby grows in every colour” you laughed surprised he bought so much stuff for a one year old

It was now nighttime Koichi has now met her, tomoko came back from work and talked to us about our future plans now we have a toddler to look after, now everyone was washed and in bed clothes, You was thinking, You were planning on going home but josuke convinced you to stay, so here you are laying next to him with your head resting on his shoulder “I wish I would have been there when you were pregnant, I would have rubbed your feet back and stomach, you know i would have done all of that for you” you were now gently playing with fingers, “I know, I wasn’t thinking straight I’ve missed you” you turned around so now you was laying on top of him, He started to run circles into your naked thigh,”I’ve missed you too, I missed how soft your skin felt” you later like that until you eventually fell asleep

Your opened your eyes and looked around, for your daughter who was supposed to be in her cot, but she wasn’t there, you panicked and called for your boyfriend but he wasn’t beside you, you got up and ran down the stairs in just his T-shirt that you borrowed from him, you sighed in relief when You saw him sitting there with Y/d/n sitting on his cross legs under a blanket, ”Morning Y/n, hope you slept well” he greeted turning to look at you, Y/d/n turning around to look at too, they looked like twins“I was so scared, I thought she wondered out of her cot”, you walked over to the two of them and picked your daughter up from josuke's lap, “Don’t worry Y/n, she was crying and you was sleeping so I thought that I would sort her out, I picked her up and I noticed that her diaper needed changing, I was so tempted to wake you up when I saw the saw all that crap she produced, but I decided that you not to, it wasn’t that bad, and I feed her but when I went to put her down she didn’t want me to, so me and her have just been hanging out” she smiled at the sight of the two of them she’s already so comfortable with him and it hasn’t even been that long

You join the two of them sitting your daughter in between the both of you, Josuke wrapped the blanket around you but was gentle of the little one, you leaned into your boyfriend and put your head on his shoulder, this couldn’t have ended up any more perfect, you thought to yourself as you watched the colours on the screen

#jojo no kimyou na bouken #jojos bizarre adventure #jojo meme #diamond is unbreakable #josuke higashikata #jjba #koichi hirose #okuyasu nijimura #tomoko higashikata #jotaro kujo #joseph joestar #koichi

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ramp-it-up · 4 years ago

Text

Fresh Squeeze, Chapter 7

Pairing: Daveed Diggs x OFC Linden Marshall

Set in 2023, post-pandemic

Warnings: Lots of pics, Cursing, Angsty Angst, Mention of Death, Lots of Plot, Anthony Ramos, Afro Samurai, Clothes altering, SMUT: Fingering, Thumb sucking, Fluff. 18+.

Word Count: 6.6 K

Plot: Linden Marshall just finished law school at Columbia University in NYC. Daveed Diggs is still creating magic with his platonic life partner Rafael Casal and nursing his broken heart post pandemic.

Linden’s boyfriend WAS Mark Monaco, movie star. They were together for years, and her trauma and his addictions were chaotic. She knows now that wasn’t love.

Read the Previous Chapter.

--------

Thursday night/Friday, May 6-7, 2023

After Daveed heard what you said, he stood stock still, trying to decide whether or not to go back into your room. He clenched his fists and concentrated intensely to not break the fucking door down. All he needed was for you to call his name…

You stood in the middle of your room, naked except for the towel. You closed your eyes and prayed for strength to not go running after him. You had to stay in control.

But if you saw him turn your door handle, you would fuck him right there on the floor of your room.

After a few minutes, you both turned around and went about your business, Daveed to his room and you to the shower. You thought of Daveed in the shower and fell into bed still thinking of him.

What did you want for your birthday, if not Daveed?

Daveed, alone in his bed, thought of all the feelings involved. He knew you were fragile, but it seemed you were relaxing a bit, deciding to trust him if just a little.

He resolved to give a little bit of chase. You just needed to feel safe and accepted.

You dreamt of each other so deeply that all that was left when you woke up was a wisp of a memory.

------

Daveed did not sleep long. Even though it was after 4 o’clock when he went to sleep, he was up by 10, hard on raging under the sheets.

He’d be damned if he jerked off, but he remembered your voice through the door of the room last night, and he had to strip the sheets away, as he was making a mess at the thought of you.

He decided to go for a run on the beach. He pulled on some basketball shorts and decided to go shirtless, as the temperature outside was already 80 degrees.

Daveed ran with his music blasting in his ears. He played out song lyrics and lined up preparation for upcoming roles. Before he knew it, he was three miles down the beach from the house.

He turned around as the tropical heat and the sun was getting to be a bit much. He went back in and went to his room to shower and put some clothes on. You didn’t know the sight you were missing.

When you woke up at Noon, you pulled on Mark's t-shirt and basketball shorts and made your way to the kitchen which had floor to ceiling windows and glass doors facing the ocean. It was breathtaking. The doors were open and the ocean breeze felt amazing.

"Good morning, Sunshine!"

You turned to see Daveed at the stove, greeting you and smiling.

He was wearing an orange Oakland tank top and some pajama pants slung low on his hips. You smiled at his hair, which was tied up in two curly puffs at the front, with the back down in his wild curls.

Even though it was an odd hairstyle for a grown man, you knew the curl life. And it did not take away from his masculinity.

Not. At. All.

Besides, his curly puffs gave you a place to focus rather than on his well-muscled arms.

Daveed’s hair reminded of when your mom did your hair only to have Dell try to pull your pony tails out as soon as she dismissed you from the kitchen chair.

Ya’ll would get into so much trouble for fighting yet again. The thought gave you a warm feeling at the memory as you smiled wider and patted your own pineappled hair.

‘Damn, her smile is a killer,’ Daveed thought as he watched you look around the kitchen for other signs of life. Now he was glad that he couldn’t sleep, and that he decided to be productive.

He would have the chance to talk to you. As friends. Yeah. He nodded to himself, trying to emphasize that last thought. Friends.

Fuck. He was in serious trouble.

Noticing that you and he were the only two humans in the kitchen and sniffing the air for the delicious smell that was wafting over from the stove, you finally greeted Daveed.

"Good morning, D. Looks like everyone else is still knocked the fuck out.”

Your other four friends were nowhere to be found.

You laughed, yawned and stretched. Daveed turned back to the stove, cursing to himself. You were so damn fine.

“Calm the fuck down boy,” he whispered.

“What’s that?”

You ventured over to see Diggs making French toast and bacon. Your stomach rumbled.

"I said sit down. Sounds like you’re hungry, haha. We gotta feed you. Grab some fruit over there and I'll serve you right up."

You grabbed something and sat down at the bar facing the windows. When Diggs turned to offer you some fresh oj, you didn't notice him watching you eat your banana.

Your lips were a problem for him. When you looked away from the ocean, Daveed turned back to the stove and looked over his shoulder to smile at you.

His smile made you feel some kind of way.

"Why do they call you ‘Smiley?’"

Daveed laughed, a sound that was quite nice.

“Because I started out as a clown. A professional clown.”

You tilted your head, convinced that he was fucking with you. But maybe, he and Rafa always talked about the random shit they did to make money before they made it.

When he winked and turned back to the stove to the food, you just shook your head and ate the rest of your banana, positive that Daveed was fucking with you.

Meanwhile, Diggs was trying to stop himself from thinking about fucking with you. He did not need to watch you eat a banana. He licked his lips as he thought of how your lips tasted.

You smiled at Diggs’ broad back. He seemed different this morning.

He turned to plate some food for you and smiled again, shaking his head.

“Most times it’s a nervous tick.”

You were confused. “What’s a nervous tick?”

“My smile. I'm actually a really shy person. Most times my smile is a defense mechanism.”

You were not sure about all that. Daveed had to know how he affected people.

“I’m not sure I believe that. Man. You are famous for performing in front of hundreds of people a night. You’re on tv, movies, for goodness sake! You do live rap shows with your shirt off. I ain’t boo boo the fool.”

Daveed’s laugh filled the kitchen.

“How many clipping. shows did you watch on YouTube? Or did you only watch the ones where I'm shirtless?”

His look was hungry, and surprised, like he couldn’t believe he’d said that out loud. Then he barrelled on.

“I am shy, but I get my energy from crowds. I'm an introverted extrovert. Ya feel me?"

You nodded, understanding. You noticed that he was fiddling with the spatula he had in his hand. Uncertain again. He really was awkward. It was sweet. And hot.

Diggs continued.

"When I perform, I'm probably under the influence."

Pause.

"Hold up. What?"

You flashed back to Mark. You couldn’t be around this again. Daveed caught your panicked look.

"Oh, it’s not like that, haha."

That laugh and that smile. It automatically put you at ease.

"It just takes a little. Drink; like last night at Criag’s Adrenaline; when I used to run track. Now it's performing."

Daveed watched you carefully, gauging whether or not to continue. Fuck it, he thought. He felt as comfortable with you as when he first met Rafa.

"You know what the best drug is?"

You cocked your head to the side, intrigued despite yourself. That smile. It was angelic and so opposite of what came out of his mouth next.

"Fucking. You know? When it's that good good. Or even better, that feeling when you haven't smashed, but the sexual tension is everything?"

There was suddenly little air in the room. You had to open your mouth to get oxygen. Oh. You knew the feeling alright. You gulped down your orange juice and continued eating.

"Hard-dick dopamine delivers every time."

He said it so casually. He was playing innocent, but he was going for it.

You choked on your bacon. Daveed came up beside you.

"Raise your arms above your head.”

You turned toward him, held your arms up and he helped you, his hands holding your hands up. You stopped coughing pretty quickly but you stared at each other with your small wrists in his large hands. Daveed shifted on his feet and cleared his throat.

“You good?" His voice had to be a couple of octaves lower.

You gaped for a second, mouth still open, then laughed and nodded, pulling your arms slightly to get him to release them. Daveed let go, stepped back and laughed along.

"But yeah. Back to what we were talking about...It just takes a little high, and I'm a completely different person."

You watched him as he crossed his chocolate arms.

"So what's your drug? Your motivation?"

That was something you didn't want to think about too hard. You tried to avoid his eyes. You cleared your throat and took another drink.

“You got any vodka for this orange juice?”

-------

“C’mon. I made you this gourmet breakfast and everything…” You could hear the smile in his voice even though you were looking down. You didn’t feel pressed, you just felt like telling D this would open up so many things to him.

"Well, I don't do hard drugs if that's what you mean. No pills, or coke. Don't need molly," you winked and filled your mouth with French toast.

"Gosh. This food is amazing!"

Daveed could barely make out the words through the food in your mouth. He shook his head.

"Thanks, but don’t play me Lindy. Is french toast your motivation?"

Diggs wasn't letting you off the hook. You thought about it. He was being very cool, and you felt safe with him. You plunged ahead.

"I think about how fragile life is. How it is not guaranteed from day to day. How it can be taken away in a moment."

You tried to push the emotions down and took a deep breath.

"I lost my twin brother when we were 17 in a car accident. I think a lot about what he didn't get to do. And that motivates me to do better with my life."

Daveed just looked down at the counter, mortified that he had pushed you to share something so personal. Then he finally looked up at you.

"That's a good reason to be motivated. I'm sorry for your loss." He looked down at his plate again. "Look, I didn't mean to press you...."

Telling Daveed about Dell just felt right, even though you really didn’t know him like that.

"Don't apologize. You didn't know. And I'm glad I told you."

Diggs looked up at her and smiled. You smiled back.

He got up and stood next to you to grab your plate. Daveed smelled like coconut. It was nice. You closed your eyes and sniffed him.

"You done?" He was laughing at you.

"What? Oh, yeah. Thanks."

"Where is the fooood?"

Craig padded in the kitchen, with a wide smile.

"There you are." You grinned at your cousin.

"Goood morningggg peopleeeee! I smell the Diggs Special. Hey. You two fuck last night?”

Rafa came in already on one this morning. Unlike his best friend, his confidence seemed to seldom waver.

He ignored your shocked looks and Craig’s laughter and went to get some food. He continued as if he just walked in and said, “Good morning.”

"Ay, D, you gonna go check out this venue in town with me?"

Daveed shook his head at his friend. But he was chilling.

"Sure, what up?"

"I figure we can turn up on stage tonight"

"Cool. Let me eat and chill a little bit before we go." He looked at his watch. "About two?"

"Dope."

Jasmine walked into the kitchen.

“Lindy needs to go shopping. We should come with. You down, Craig?”

“You know it. That reminds me, we gotta fix you up. Start destroying Daveed’s pants, since Lindy won’t do it for real.”

“Y’all gonna get enough…” you were getting swole.

“Calm down Ms. Fussy pants. Let’s go.”

Craig grabbed some shears from the kitchen and went toward Lindy’s room.

When you got to your room, Craig gave you the business.

"You are so tiresome."

“What?”

“You just need to fuck the man. We are all tired of feeling this sexual tension. It’s bothersome.”

“Leave me alone, Craig.” You watched as he worked his magic on the jeans. “What if I don’t want t…”

“Lie.”

“What if I’m not read…”

“Fuck that.”

“What if he hurts me? What if I hurt him?”

Craig put the shears down and turned toward you.

“Listen, stop over thinking and do what you feel. What you want. Turn up. It’s your birthday. Anybody can see that man is all about you.”

“I’m scared.”

“I know. But you deserve…” He didn’t say it.

“You deserve. Now put these clothes on, bitch.”

-----

You emerged from the room and no one paid any particular attention to you, no one but Daveed.

His eyes swept from your feet, which were housed in some of Jasmine’s high heeled sandals, to your long, brown legs which were highly moisturized and seemed to go on and get better from your juicy calves to your generous, muscular thighs.

Craig had cut and distressed some jeans that Daveed didn't particularly love to garments that he felt he could not live without.

On you.

Damn, Daveed gaped as he remembered that you probably didn’t have any underwear on.

His eyes moved up to notice how his blue Oaklandish t-shirt was huge, but the way you had it tied up let it accentuate your waist, breasts and shoulders.

‘Good God,’ he thought. As his eyes moved up to yours, he saw that you noticed his reaction and were smiling at him. He smiled back. He wanted you to wear nothing but his destroyed and altered clothing for the rest of your life.

“OKAYYYYYYY, you look cute as hell.” Jasmine admired your outfit.

“Thank you!” Craig responded.

“Yes, you did that!” Jas laughed. “And the model ain’t half bad.” Jasmine got up, took your hand and had you twirl.

“Got DAMN!”

Everyone turned and looked at Rafa as he yelled. He put his hand over his mouth. “Oh, did I say that out loud?”

Daveed was so grateful that you did not have any of your own clothes. Your ass in those distressed shorts were everything. He gulped and you and Jasmine giggled.

“Be quiet!”

Anthony shushed everybody and then gave you a double take.

“Nice, Lindy,” but then he turned back to the tv. He was used to Jasmine’s glorious ass, so he was nonplussed.

“Let’s just finish this episode before we go. It’s my favorite,” he said as Jasmine went back over to sit down with him.

Black Dynamite was on the tv while they were waiting. It was the alien episode.

Ant and Jas were curled up in a big white overstuffed chair, Craig was on the other,while Daveed and Rafa were on the couch. You sat down in between them.

You leaned your head on Rafa’s shoulder, looking at Daveed. Rafa put his arm around you, watching the show, as you put your legs up on Digg’s knees.

You didn’t see Rafa wink at Daveed, who just smiled at you and turned toward the screen. After a couple of minutes, he put his hand on your shins, looking over to see if it was okay.

Your chill smile indicated your assent. He started lightly rubbing, looking down at your caramel skin. Your legs were so soft.

Diggs peeked up at you relaxing and accepting his touch, and snuggling into Rafa’s embrace. The way you were looking at him was everything, even if you were in Rafa’s arms.

Rafa was his boy. And he knew what you wanted. As for Daveed and you, you two were watching each other and not the screen.

Daveed decided to move his hand up your leg, but a flash went off and he stopped. He hadn’t noticed that the show was over and that Craig was taking pictures.

"This is so cute! Family love!"

He was cheesing as he snapped a wide-angle selfie and some pics. Jasmine came and sat on your lap, the couch becoming a crazy twister game.

Anthony came behind the couch and snuck in the pics with the crazy eyes flipped a double bird behind Rafa’s head. You were all being so silly.

"What is this, a orgy?” Rafa with the jokes.

“Not that I’m saying there’s anything wrong with that.” That devilish smile. Everybody laughed.

“Y’all are some beautiful people, but ain’t nobody got time for that. Let's go."

Anthony seemed hype. He slapped his hands together and then rubbed them.

“Okay, we have a choice, since we are going into town we can drive….” he looked around at everyone. “OR, we can go over in my new boat!”

Everyone sensed that there wasn’t really a choice, so they all said, “Boat!” and laughed.

Anthony’s grin was wide as fuck. Jasmine harshed the flow.

“The only thing is, it only has four seats…” Everyone looked around and counted six people. Ant spoke up.

“I’ll be piloting, so I will stand, but it takes about 20-30 minutes, soooooooo…..”

“Sooooooo, Lindy… would you mind sitting on D’s lap? We need to get creative.”

Her eyes sparkled as she smirked.

“Would that be okay with you Diggs?”

Rafa coughed “Setup” into his hand.

You looked at Jasmine and Anthony and Daveed, who was looking at you expectantly. You were in agreement with Rafa, but you weren’t mad. It seemed that everyone was looking at you.

“Sure…” said Daveed whose eyes were fixed on you. “Is that okay with you, Lindy?”

You smiled and nodded your head. “I’m cool with it.” Daveed smiled wide, eyes crinkling with happiness.

Jasmine and Anthony led you all out onto the back deck, where you and Jas took off your heels, and down to the beach, a little ways away to the boat dock. You and Daveed brought up the rear of the little ensemble.

You were watching the waves and the beautiful surroundings, trying not to focus on the awkwardness.

Daveed was watching you.

“You good Lindy?”

Daveed’s voice broke your reverie.

“Yeah.”

You two stopped and looked at each other. Your head was tilted back, looking into D’s eyes. He smiled down at you and you felt warm. Must have been the sun.

“Heyyyy youuu guuuysss!”

Daveed nodded his head toward the boat.

“Leggo.”

You smiled and followed him. Ant was at the helm, Jasmine and Rafa were at the front, and Craig was in the second row.

Daveed stepped on the boat and turned around offering you his hand. You flashed back to that January night.

You swallowed, smiled and tried to board. And immediately fell when you misjudged the deck while stepping on the boat.

Daveed helped you up, chuckling, while Craig howled and Rafa shook his head. Jasmine just stared, open mouthed, said “That’s not funny,” then burst out laughing.

Anthony was busy getting the boat ready but had a grin on his face.

“Fuck all y’all!”

“No, not all of us, just D…”

“Shut the fuck up Craig.” You gave him the gas face and then turned and smiled at Daveed.

Daveed was seated and spread his arms out so you could sit down. Anthony started the engine, so you got settled in on his lap as carefully as you could.

“You okay?” you asked him softly, turning on his lap and feeling the muscles in his thighs. And maybe something else.

You tried to adjust your shorts to cover your core adequately, because like this, he would easily be able to ascertain your situation.

Daveed looked into your eyes and whispered, “I’m perfect.”

You agreed silently as you stared back into his big browns.

You were thrown against Daveed’s chest as the boat gained speed. You were able to feel his abs through his t-shirt and your rear shifted and came into contact with his crotch.

‘This is going to be a fun ride,’ you thought, smiling to yourself.

Daveed put his arms around you, one at your waist and one on your legs, to try and hold you steady. The movement of the boat allowed him to feel you, just as he wanted.

He turned his head and looked at the water, concentrating on keeping his hands in neutral locations.

Jas looked over at you. “You okay?” she mouthed.

You smiled and nodded, giggling a little.

D turned his head back quickly to look at your face. You looked at him and winked. He smiled and unknowingly started stroking your leg.

You stopped laughing and all of your attention turned to his hand on your leg. You adjusted yourself in Daveed’s lap. You were getting a little moist and could feel his cock becoming hard.

Your lips parted and you started breathing a little faster.

The feel of you on his lap was what was up. There was a definite heat from your core. Daveed happened to look down at his t- shirt on you and saw that your nipples were hard.

All he wanted was for them to be in his mouth and to be enveloped in your heat.

Daveed turned his head to look at everyone else to see if they noticed you two, and his lips brushed your shoulder. He heard your sharp intake of breath.

Geez, he felt like he could take you on the boat in front of everyone. By the way your body was reacting, he thought that you would let him.

He finally noticed he was stroking your leg and stopped himself. He sat up straighter and tried to get control.

You closed your eyes and moaned a little when Daveed pulled away. All you wanted at that moment was him inside you. When you opened your eyes, Daveed was looking at you.

“You sure you’re comfortable? I could sit on the boat deck if you want.”

“No!” you said a little too loudly. Craig smirked at you.

You blushed, then relaxed again in D’s arms. How could a moment be so awkward, yet so perfect?.

After about 20 minutes, the view of the pretty little town of Isabela became clear. It looked like a neat spot to spend the day, but you were sad that the boat ride was over.

As the boat came to a stop and tied off at the dock, you and Daveed let everyone get off before them, then D climbed out, turned around and held out his hand for you.

You took it and stepped out onto the dock. You didn’t let go and Daveed didn’t either. No one said anything, just exchanged glances as you and Daveed concentrated on being casual with it.

Truth be told, each of your hearts were pounding in your chest.

This is another world. You could be free and do what you wanted to do. And what you wanted to do was to hold Daveed’s hand.

Daveed’s chest was puffed out, proud that you decided to show affection. In front of the crew.

This was a big step but he tried not to make it a big deal.

You strolled together and admired the architecture, holding his hand until you walked to the shopping center on Barbosa Street.

They were going to check out a venue to do a show later in the weekend. Daveed didn’t want to let you go.

Rafa and Ant just walked on and let Daveed handle his business.

“Go to work.”

You smiling at him was everything, as Daveed played with your hand, moving it up to lace his fingers in yours and press your palm upright.

Jas and Craig went into the store.

“It’s not work. Having fun creating with friends…”

Daveed really wanted to create fun with you. He felt like he should kiss you goodbye, but he didn’t want to push it.

“Bye Daveed. See you in a few.”

You laughed, cause it was like he was going off to war. This was too much.

“Bye Linden…”

He finally let your hand go and then backed up the street in the direction that his bros went, not wanting to let you out of his sight.

When you disappeared into the store, he turned and ran to catch up.

------

Rafa and Anthony were talking to the club owner in Spanish, Daveed following along, but not very well. He thought they were talking about lighting and sound, but couldn’t get the entire conversation.

“Tienes tu propio gaffer o tenemos que hacer nuestra propia iluminación?”

“Nosotros tenemos un capataz, pero él cobra una tarifa separada.”

Daveed zoned out and planned how he was going to get closer to you.

Rafa turned to him and said something, and Daveed nodded.

“Oh, absolutely.”

He had not one clue what was happening in this club right now. His mind was on you. Rafa and Ant looked at each other.

“So, when they bring up the pigs in tutus, we cut one open and smear the blood all over you…”

Anthony wanted to see if Daveed was paying attention.

Daveed smiled. “Sounds dope.”

Rafa and Ant shook their heads at him.

“Listen dude, your head is not in the game right now. You need to get right.”

They didn't have to tell him twice.

------

You were going to town. Craig and Jasmine had abandoned you and were already down at Pinkheart and Loft. You were not moving from H & M.

You didn’t mind being alone in the store, as you minored in shopping in undergrad. You were in the zone. And zoned out from what was happening with Daveed. You needed some headspace.

Your hands were full of clothes and your heart was feeling light as you headed toward the dressing room.

You could barely see over your pile when the cute top you just recently grabbed off a clearance rack fell on the floor as you rushed ahead. You walked past it before you realized, then went back to try and pick it up.

You jumped as soon as you turned around.

Daveed was standing there with your top in his hand.

"Drop something?" That smile was everything.

You stared at him wide-eyed.

‘Fuck. Me.’ Daveed thought.

"Here, let me take your pile, I'll help you to the register."

You smiled at him again. He'd do anything to see that smile forever.

"Oh, ok. Thanks."

You handed over the clothes to reveal a handful of sandals underneath which you kept. Daveed slowed himself to appreciate you fully.

“I really like that shirt on you.” Daveed bit his lip. “And those shorts..”

You saw him checking you out and you watched him, your eyes fixed on his lips.

You recalled the talk about what mouths could do from months ago but were thinking about his succulent lips. And you couldn’t stop.

You needed to remain in control.

"I'm not going to the register, I'm going to try these on. You can drop them at the fitting room."

Daveed looked around to tear his eyes away from you. He caught you checking him out when he swung his eyes back around. His stomach flipped a little.

He smiled.

"Well."

You were at the fitting room, the attendant eyeing Daveed as he gave you a number and pointed you to a stall.

You took the 10 garments you were allowed and started to go into to your fitting room, looking back at him over your shoulder. You disappeared into the room.

Daveed just stood there.

He made a decision.

You stood there for a minute, shook, before you thought you had yourself together. You were about to take off his shirt when Daveed opened the door at came in.

The look on your face was everything. The wide eyes, that mouth in an "O." So damn fuckable.

"The guy out there said I could bring you the rest of your clothes."

That was true, after Daveed paid him 20 dollars.

He got close to you, reached behind you and put the clothes on the hook.

You could smell him. He smelled like the coconut and his cologne, and your dreams. You closed your eyes.

Daveed wanted your lips. He wanted to own them, to command them, to hear them command him.

You opened your eyes and he backed up. He tried to contain himself despite your proximity.

“Look. Daveed. That night. The launch party. I was wasted. I usually don’t lose control like that… I don’t want you to think that’s really me.”

You were keyed up and stressed because you were losing control. He could tell.

God, he wanted to put his hands on you. In a good way. You’d calm down then.

He knew you had baggage. And that he should probably stay away. But he didn't want to. Hell, he had matching luggage.

"Well, I think it is you. I have a theory that people are more their real selves when they are drunk or high. Inhibitions are gone. They get to act out like they want to. Do what they want to."

Daveed looked into your eyes.

"What do you want to do, Lindy?"

You wanted to do a lot of things. To Daveed. In this fitting room. You almost gave it all up for him right there.

Then you got mad. At Daveed or your feelings, you didn’t know.

"That's just it, adults don't get to do what they want to do all the time. It's called adulting, you know. Responsibilities...?"

You fired back at him.

He opened his mouth and spoke. To himself as well as you.

"Chill."

He said it gently, not raising his voice at all, but the force behind it made you shut the fuck up.

Your knees were weak and the small of your back was acting up again. Your body was reacting without your permission. You shivered.

Daveed could tell you were reacting to him physically. But he wanted inside your mind, not just your body. He was going to give you some space.

He backed toward the door of the fitting room. Leaning against it, his long body in jeans and t-shirt delectable.

“What do you want, Linden?”

His voice was deeper, more commanding now. You swallowed. You were exhausted from fighting it. Maybe you could have a taste.

“I-I want a kiss. Just a kiss.”

Daveed felt triumphant. He smiled and looked down at his shoes, then back up at you.

“Come get it.”

He was going to let you make the first move.

You bit your lip through a smile. You walked the five steps toward him in slow motion it seemed, as you raised up on your tiptoes to reach up and peck his lips, your hands behind your back.

Your lips met his pillowy goodness and you leaned back to look into his eyes.

Then, you put your hands on his shirt, tracing his abs all the way up and going back in for more, Daveed’s tongue prodding it’s way between your lips, and your tongue dancing with his.

You moaned as Daveed put his hand on your hips and then slid them up the sides of his shirt, skimming your breasts, and resting under your arms as you two went for it.

He lifted you up and you wrapped your legs around his waist, as he backed you into the wall.

He palmed your ass in the shorts, his long fingers reaching inside the distressed rips and squeezing your ass. He spread you apart and squeezed you closed, so that his fingers barely grazed your core and drove you crazy.

When you reached up and pulled his hair, that’s when he stopped kissing you, leaned his head against your forehead and breathed, “Fuck, Lindy. You don’t know what you do to me.”

You just looked at him and craned your neck for another kiss which he couldn’t deny, but then he stopped and let you down.

“What do you want Daveed?”

Daveed put his hand on the wall above your head. You looked up at it and at him and he had to remember to breathe.

“Fuck it. Linden, I want you. You know that.”

You raised your eyebrow and smiled up at him, then bit your lip, playful. Daveed’s throat became dry.

“And I think that I know that you want me too. But I know it’s hard.”

Your eyes swept down his torso to his pants, and damn, well…if it wasn’t hard right now.

He cleared his throat. “It’s hard for YOU.” You smiled wide.

He rolled his eyes.

“You know what I mean. It’s hard for you to be vulnerable, but Linden, I won’t hurt you. I promise.”

The way he looked in your eyes. You couldn’t go there with him, but the physical was okay for now. You decided to indulge yourself. It was almost your birthday.

“What if I want you... to hurt me?”

The innocent look in your eyes masked the devilish intent in your words. Daveed, stomach flipped again and he screwed his eyes shut. He masked a whimper and opened his eyes again.

“Huh. Don’t play with me Linden.” The menacing tone of his voice was making you wet.

“But what if I want to play with you, Daveed?”

You reached for his belt buckle; Daveed stopped you, grabbed your hand and put it above your head against the wall, his arms now caging you in.

You raised your chin, meeting his glare with yours. His eyes were fucking you so rough right now. You had to open your mouth to breathe, your tongue darting out to wet your bottom lip.

Daveed was looking as if he was going to devour you.. That mouth. He wanted to take it, but he restrained himself. He had to know.

“Tell me. What. You. Want.”

You held his stare, the air around you crackling with energy.

“I want you Daveed.”

His smile was wide. Then he bent down, grabbed your thighs in his hand, picked you up and carried you to the mirror and pressing you against it, running his hands back down your body to your ass, cupping and grabbing it to memorize how it felt.

“We are NOT about to do this in the fitting room at H & M. But somebody is going to cum. Right now.”

You kissed him as he ran his hands under your shirt to your nipples, pinching and rolling them in between his fingers as he kissed you again.

You started whimpering in your throat as you let him make you wet.

“God, Daveed.”

You kissed him again, but he did not stop what he was doing to your breasts.

“What?” Daveed asked when you came up for air. “You wet?’

“Fuck yes.”

You moaned as you threw your head back and huffed.

Daveed pulled his shirt up off your waist and exposed your breasts.

“So fucking beautiful.”

His mouth watered at the sight. Daveed licked his lips and leaned toward those beauties.

“Can I?” Daveed paused.

“Please!” You whispered.

He leaned down. His mouth got so close that you could feel his hot breath. Then he paused again.

“Please what?”

At first you could not think of what he was talking about. Then you got it.

“Please. Sir.”

Your eyes sparkled under your lashes as you looked down. His dick got even harder.

“Such a Good Girl for me Linden. Fuck.”

Damn, he had the key to your pussy.

Your wetness was leaking down your thigh, now reaching the tips of Daveed’s fingers.

Daveed proceeded to alternate his attention to each breast. Delicately at first, he kissed your nipples, then suckled them gently, then harder, more insistently, until his mouth was pulling at them rhythmically and firmly, to the point of almost hurting you.

You were groaning pretty loudly and Daveed released a nipple from his tightly clamped lips with an almost painful pop.

“Suck this,” he said, and put his thumb in your mouth, pushing your head back into the mirror.

While still suckling you, he then moved his other hand down your body to your crotch and stuck his hand into the jean shorts, his long fingers grazing your folds, feeling a small patch of hair and your oh so slick lower lips.

He looked up at you and how you were enthusiastically sucking his thumb, fellating it like it could cum down your throat. That sight and feeling, combined with how you felt at your core, was fucking him up.

“Damn, Lindy? All this. For me? You sure?”

You nodded vigorously, his thumb deep in your mouth as he kept you pressed to the mirror. He found your clit and started rubbing, while inserting a finger into you.

You were so fucking tight, it was a stretch to fit two in, but you were humming with pleasure now, your eyes rolling back in your head.

You nodded again, and as he pried your mouth open, your sounds became louder before he put his mouth on yours and kissed you, muffling your moans as his thumb and fingers worked in concert to bring you close to the edge.

You tried to reach for his belt buckle again and he moved out of the way.

“Unh unh, it’s not about me right now.”

Daveed grunted. He spun you around and had you face the mirror, his hand in your mouth and your pants, and his cock pressed into your ass.

It was big and your eyes matched it. You two stared at each other.

“Look at us. Don’t we look good together? This should be a thing.”

You watched what he was doing to you and it did look hot as fuck.

He pressed deeper into you through your pants. He could feel you quiver on his fingers.

“You want it Lindy?”

Daveed could feel your clit harden and vibrate like a guitar string.

“Maybe later, but you could cum… not now…”

You whimpered around his thumb, but he sped up.

“Not now…”

You were almost crying now. Daveed was smiling, his teeth bared against the shell of your ear, whispering his commands to you.

“NNNNot now….”

Your legs were shaking from holding it.

“Good girl. Now cum.”

Daveed spoke into your ear and you exploded from the inside out. It had been months since anyone else made you cum.

He reached down and grabbed you under your knees and sat down with you on the fitting room bench. You were draped around him like a vine, exhausted.

D held you for a few, taking care of you and waiting for his hard on to go down. You clung to him, eyes closed, trying not to panic. This was good. You wanted this. And you told him so.

“Me too, Lindy.”

He helped you stand and stood himself, standing behind you and watching you straighten yourself out in the mirror. He pulled you back against him, wrapping his arms around your front and putting his chin next to your forehead.

“I meant what I said, Linden. We look good together. Let this be a thing.”

You just smiled at him as you thought about the weekend to come.

-------

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mymelodyheart · 4 years ago

Text

All I Want For Christmas Is You Chapter 11 ~One More Day~ The Final Chapter

Previously in Who the Hell is Harry? ...

They lay there like that for a long while, listening to the fireworks subside until only a few isolated booms from a distance could be heard. Their breathing and heartbeats harmonised, bodies interlocking to fit each other. Finally, Jamie eased himself off Claire, kissing her lips tenderly before disposing of the condom.

Moments later, when he returned, she was on her side, watching him with a satisfied smile. "Happy New Year," she said hoarsely.

Jamie got into bed, pulled her into his chest, and bit her earlobe. "Happy New Year to ye tae. That was the best New Year firework display I've ever seen."

She laughed and slid an arm across his waist. Nuzzling her nose on the hollow of his throat, he felt her smile against his skin, but her hold on him remained only for a few seconds before she passed out cold.

Not wanting to disturb the perfection of the moment, he gathered her closer and whispered, "I love you," into her hair, hoping and praying that the New Year will bring them together for good.

If you wish to read this on AO3, here is the link.

If you wish to read this from the beginning:

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Laughing, Jamie and Willie noisily strode in from the kitchen backdoor at ten in the morning with Rollo in tow. They found Annalise and Claire making shortcrust pastry for the Cornish pasties and preparing sandwiches for lunch. Apparently, the boys were expecting a few of their mates to come over and help with a project.

With no forecast of rain for the whole week, the brothers had decided to knock down Jamie's old shed and build a new and bigger one. A day ago they'd torn it down, cleared the debris, levelled the ground for the extension, laid down some slabs for support and poured the cement for the foundation. This morning, they've completed the base and put up the wall frames, including the waterproof sheeting.

"Good morning, ladies." The brothers said simultaneously, making the girls smile in acknowledgement. Willie gestured for Annalise to follow him, leaving Jamie and Claire alone.

Jamie washed his hands, made himself a coffee and came around to where she was stood dropping cubed butter into the flour. "Have ye seen our progress with the new shed yet?" he asked. But before she could reply, he leaned in and gave her a swift kiss on the lips, making her knock the carton of milk over.

Claire gasped, and Jamie grinned with triumph for catching her off guard. He brought his cup up to his smiling lips and winked.

"I have," she laughed, picking up the milk and wiping the countertop. "Are you sure, it's a shed you're making out there and not a small house?"

He leaned back against the counter and smiled. He'd taken off his jumper and was now only wearing a white long-sleeved t-shirt that stretched across his chest, showing the definitions of his toned muscles and broad shoulders. His eyes gleamed in the soft morning light, and Claire thought of how handsome he looked, making her heart pick up a little.

"It's a shed, but I thought while I'm in the process of restoring it, it would be a brilliant idea to build an additional extension for when ye come over for a visit, and ye wish to write. I'll have a huge window facing the field so ye can look out when ye need an inspiration. It's a grand view overlooking the greens. I'll even soundproof it for ye, so ye willnae be distracted by outside noise."

She arched an eyebrow in surprise. These past few days, she started to notice a lot of new items cropping up in Jamie's cottage. There were a couple of floral throw cushions she'd never seen before. And after Annalise had casually mentioned how much Claire missed her mermaid blanket, a handmade crochet mermaid tail blanket had shown up one night on his sofa while watching a movie. His cupboard was now fully stocked with her evening herbals such as chamomile, Valerian root and lemon balm tea. There was even a pair of soft fluffy memory foam slippers, waiting for her whenever she stayed over. Somehow, she was sensing a sense of permanency and more and more each day, she was starting to feel she belonged to him and his home.

Claire tried not to examine it too deeply and focused more on enjoying the moment, but it was getting harder. Because as each day slowly neared to her departure date, the hollow in the pit of her stomach became wider. And tonight was her last night with Jamie.

"Well, I suppose I won't see the finished product until I come over for a visit," she said with a little sadness in her voice.

Sensing the shift in mood, Jamie put down his cup and closed in on her, his fingers coasting past her jaw into the back of her neck, gently urging her in. He stilled for a moment, smiling an inch from her lips, as she inhaled him, his masculine smell, the coffee on his breath, the faint intoxicating scent of his aftershave mixed with sweat. Then he closed his eyes and kissed her.

"What do ye want to do on yer last night? Fancy going out?" he breathed against her mouth.

She swallowed and shook her head. "Shall we stay in?"

He cupped her face, opened his eyes and held hers with his. "I was hoping ye would say that."

"You don't want to say goodbye to Annalise? It's her last day, too," she half-teased.

"I think she'd want to spend her last night with Willie," he said seriously this time. He glanced down at her lips. "As I do with ye. But I want to spend the evening, not saying goodbye but making memories." He looked back up at her. "Memories that will bring ye back to me sooner."

Her heart pounded. She knew what Jamie was trying to say to her.

She smiled at him. "I'd like that too, Jamie."

"Good, that's settled then."

..........

When Claire and Annalise brought out the Cornish pasties, sausage rolls and sandwiches for lunch, they arranged them on a makeshift buffet made out of wooden planks so the men could help themselves. Although it was in the middle of winter, the sun was out, and it was a lovely day to sit outdoors and soak up the heat. The hungry men descended on the food and sat on the benches Willie had earlier put out. Jamie filled his plate and grabbed a can of cider, and they sat on a thick blanket-covered ground, away from the rest, making sure the sun was on them since it was very chilly in the shade.

"The shed is going to be massive," she observed, her chin in her hand.

"That's the plan," he said, smiling at her, taking a huge bite of the Cornish pasty and humming in his throat to let her know how much he was enjoying his food. "Once the exterior is done, I'll send ye some photos, and then ye can tell me what colour ye want yer writing studio to be painted in."

Claire looked at him for the longest time and then sighed. "Why are you doing all this, Jamie? It's not like we've known each other for a long time."

"But it feels like we've known each other for a long time. Ye know it too." He wiped his mouth with a napkin. "And if ye dinnae like the wee studio, I can always turn it into a workshop."

She smiled. "At least allow me to put some money into it."

He shook his head. "Dinnae fash. Most of the woods we're using are from work, and I got the rest of the stuff from the reclamation yard," he explained with the eagerness of a young boy, his eyes all lit up.

She wanted to kiss him right there and then, and realised how much she would miss this place, especially him. He looked so rugged and at peace with his surrounding and very much part of it. And knowing that he wanted her to be part of his world, made her even more determined to wrap up her work in London as soon as possible and start that writing career she'd always dreamed of. Although a little niggling voice in her head was telling her to slow things down, she dismissed it, knowing that for once, her life had a direction she could look forward to.

She noticed, he hadn't put back his jumper on and was only wearing that long-sleeved shirt.

"Aren't you cold?"

He shrugged. "Here in the sun ...no' at all."

"I'm sat in the sun with you, but I can still feel the chill. Even after working all morning next to the oven, I could not for the life of me just wear a thin shirt like that in this Highland weather. Are you sure you're warm enough?" She frowned, looking over him.

"I am. Do ye want to sit on my lap so I can warm ye up? I have a few ideas on how to quickly achieve that." His eyes gleamed.

She crumpled a paper napkin and threw it at him. He laughed out loud, making the group of men look their way.

The sun rose higher, and the sky was cloudless, a rarity at this time of the year. Somewhere on a speaker played a Simple Minds song Don't You Forget About Me, and Rollo and another dog ran back and forth in the open field.

"I have something to ask you," she said, plucking a weed from the ground and watching the dogs frolic. "At the risk of sounding clingy and needy, I want to know if you've had a lot of girlfriends ...or say, sexual partners." She shrugged and looked down at her hand. "I-I can't help but wonder ...well, you know, not that I have anybody else to compare you to, but I must say you sort of know things, like when we touch and love each other. And you seem to be good at it. So I figured that maybe you've had a lot of experience." Her eyes suddenly widened when she realised what just came out of her mouth. She waved a hand. "I mean, I'm no prude or anything, and I understand a lot of people are early bloomers and have had a lot of sexual partners. I-I just wanted to understand ...if it comes naturally to you."

He grinned at her over his sausage roll as if he was pleased to hear the possessiveness in her tone. "I'm thirty years old, Sassenach, and in as much as I would have loved the idea of ye being my first, I must admit I didnae live the life of a monk. So aye, probably ye can call it that ... experience. But if ye must know, I've never been drawn to anyone like I am with ye."

She cleared her throat. "Fair enough, and since we're sharing our thoughts, I want you to know, I feel the same way." She bit her lower lip and thought over the words she wanted to say. "You kissing me on a first date, making love to me on our second, running after me at the airport on the third day. Very rash, I'd say."

"Only with ye." He laughed.

He slugged the last of his drink, and she got up and grabbed him another cider. "How about your ex-fiancee? Any lingering feelings for her still floating around in the ether?" She asked, sitting back down in front of him.

Looking at her straight in the eyes, he took her hand and rubbed the inside of her wrist. "I will always care for her, Sassenach. But what I feel for her is nothing more than friendship. She's about to be married, and she wants me to be the godfather of Simon's child. And if ye must know, I'm thrilled she's found somebody to share her life. I think Simon would have wanted that for her too as do I ...someone who will take care of her and their child." He twined their fingers together. "What we have between us is rare. Like what ye said, I was rash, but that's ever since meeting ye. Somehow I've lost the ability to guard myself. When it comes to ye, I lose all perspective and control. It's chaotic and scary at the same time, but I wouldnae wish it to be any other way."

She gave him a smile. "Sweet and convincing as you sound right now, I'm still not allowing you to come to London and visit me. It's too risky. I want you to get better first, and one day you will. I believe that."

"I believe that too."

They stared at each other for a while, their surrounding fading into a haze, and it felt like there were only the two of them left. Until the dogs' barking reminded Claire, they weren't alone. "Right now, I would like to kiss you," she said softly. "But I don't know what I feel about people watching us."

A gradual grin crept across his face as he let go of her hand. "Weel, I dinnae see how I cannot oblige ye. Just close yer eyes and dinnae mind them lads."

Smiling, he leaned in close and brushed his lips on the corner of her mouth. When she thought they were done and started to pull away, he caught her lower lip with his teeth, keeping her still. After a few heartbeats, they began to kiss, achingly slow and gentle, his tongue probing into her to tease, taste and mate.

The cheers, sallies and whistles from the men nearby kicked-off almost instantly, and even Rollo started to howl in unison. Intent only on each other, they ignored the raucous banter in the background and continued to kiss.

"Ye ken I'm gonnae get a lot of pelters for this," he murmured against her smiling lips, his eyes closed.

"Well, you might as well make it worth your while."

His chest rumbled with laughter, as he kissed her again, causing more cheers to intensify, utterly oblivious to their surroundings.

"Ah, here's my not so wee brother!" a voice cut through their own bubble, making them both jump.

Jamie tore his lips away from her, and they both glanced up. "Jenny!" He immediately shot to his feet and hugged the petite woman wearing a puffer jacket, black jeans and a pair of wellies. "When did ye get back? I thought I'd see ye just after Christmas."

"Aye, had a last-minute change of plan. I left yer pressies in yer kitchen, and Ian says he'll call one of these days to see ye. He's just got some catching up to do with work."

Claire absentmindedly wiped her hands on her jeans and got up, noticing the other woman's delicate features and black hair tied in a high ponytail. At first glance, Jamie's sister could be mistaken for an adolescent with her five-feet height and small frame. The only tell-tale sign that she was a Fraser was the same blue eyes and dark hair she'd inherited from Brian.

"I told ye no' to bother ..." Jamie's voice trailed off as he looked past her sister's shoulder. "You brought company."

Still not acknowledging Claire, Jenny beamed at Jamie and then motioned for the beautiful tall dark-haired girl standing several yards away to come over. "Ye remember Geneva? Aye? Met her at the centre today and we're going for coffee after. Actually, she told me she's going to be yer new therapist. Yer former one had to leave temporarily for the south of England because of some family emergency. Now isnae that grand Geneva's back? She's going to stay here for good."

The girl, Geneva practically skipped, stopping short of throwing herself in Jamie's arms as her eyes briefly caught Claire's. "Jamie!" she greeted breezily, giving him a slack embrace. "Nice to see you again."

"Aye." Jamie nodded, looking perplexed. "It's been a while. Didnae realise ye were around." Not waiting for Geneva's response, he grabbed Claire's hand, drew her to his side and planted a kiss on top of her head. "By the way, this is Claire, my girlfriend," Jamie said, with a hint of finality in his tone. It was almost as if he was giving a warning to his sister that there would be no discussion about it.

He must have noticed Jenny ignoring her presence and wanted to reassure her he was on her side.

Claire offered a polite smile, a few words of greeting and shook both women's hand, all the while conscious of Jamie's comforting hand on her back. Its weight served as a reminder the promise he'd made to her at the airport, lessening the sting of Jenny's lack of warmth.

"Weel, Jenny, Geneva, nice seeing ye both but I'm afraid I have to cut this short. As ye can see, I still have work to do and Claire and I are in the middle of discussing some personal matters. So if ye'll excuse us, both." Jamie gave his sister a quick peck on the cheek. "Thanks for the pressies."

"I'll give you a call one of these days to arrange for our first round of session," Geneva said, smiling at Jamie.

Jamie nodded and then he firmly grabbed Claire's hand as they edged past them, without another word. Once alone in the kitchen, Jamie pulled her in his arms and sighed into her hair. "Dinnae mind my sister. I'm sorry she wasn't as welcoming to you as the rest of my family."

She swallowed. "I'm fine, really, and I understand. Jenny is only concern about you. Who is that girl, Geneva?" she asked.

He exhaled and stroke her hair. "A friend of my sister. She used to live in the village but moved to Glasgow a while ago. I guess she's back and will be my new therapist."

"Oh, alright."

Jamie hugged her tight. "I want ye to know, it's ye and me now, Sassenach. I need ye to trust in that. Ye with me?"

She buried her face against his chest, as Jamie's words plunged deep and unearthed the truth she'd been grappling with ever since the count down to her departure date begun. For years she'd been living in a fog in London with no sense of direction searching for something she never had a name for. Now that she'd found it, she didn't want to spend a long time analysing it while doing a job that never gave her a sense of fulfilment. She knew now Jamie would follow her anywhere in the world, but she didn't want him to do that and lose a piece of himself. This was the place where he belonged, and she would find a way to belong here too, with or without Jenny's blessing.

She snuggled closer into his hold. There was a reverence in the way he held her, and all she could think of how cherished, safe and anchored she felt. More than ever, she felt secure in his affections and more optimistic about their future. Jamie was right. All that was left was them. Who would have guessed a month ago she would have her life all planned out around this man in such a short time.

Shivering slightly with excitement, her mind flitted through the countless tasks that needed to be done before she could start her new life. To get back to her Jamie.

Looking up at him, she smiled. "It's you and me now, Jamie and I trust in that. Always."

He looked relieved as he relaxed in her arms, telling her something had lifted off his chest.

..........

That night, Jamie watched Claire from the sofa as she rearranged her suitcase for the umpteenth time. His parents had given her a boozy fruitcake, homemade preserves and a bottle of single malt to take with her, and she'd insisted she didn't need another bag to make everything fit in.

Though her beautiful face looked concentrated and determined with the task at hand, her whisky eyes looked haunted, already dreading the time when she would leave. They'd had a light supper earlier and made love twice, and there was only one truth that mattered. They loved each other. Though he didn't want her to leave, he needed to let her go, for now, be the voice of reason and the face of courage for what might be a lengthy separation. God knows, he understood what she was feeling, but he didn't want their last night together to be filled with uncertainty. He wanted tonight to be a celebration of their love and the future to come.

How many times had he thought of persuading her to let him come even for just a few days? But then again it wouldn't be fair to her if she had to worry about him every single minute of the day when she would be better off concentrating on the work she needed to do. He had enough on his plate as it was with his arboricultural business and his own mental health, and he needed to refocus his attention on that.

He told himself, it was a wee sacrifice, and this time next year, she would be here for good.

With a sigh, he slid down to the floor and picked up her travel diary.

He glanced up at her, waiting for her permission. When she nodded, he smiled. He liked that they sometimes communicated without talking, like it was their own wee secret, instinctively knowing how the other felt or when the other was looking trying to get one's attention.

He carefully opened the travel diary which was thick with postcards Claire had pasted on its pages. A few photos slipped out. Thinking they were postcards, he was about to slide them back into the diary, when he realised he was looking at one of Claire's family photos. His heart leapt, and his eyes immediately zeroed in on Claire's father, confirming his suspicion. Harry is Henry Beauchamp! But how and why? Goosebumps coasted down his back. He didn't know what to feel other than have this urge to laugh out loud. He'd never believed in spirits or ghosts, but something inside him told him tonight was not the night to delve into it. He needed to talk to his godfather and find out more about Harry. And find out why Claire's father's spirit was helping him.

He felt Claire's eyes on him, and they stared at each other for a few moments. He put the diary down, and he opened his arms, and she slid into his embrace and onto his lap.

He breathed in the clean scent of her hair and savoured the length of her body, fitting perfectly to his. His hand travelled down the curve he'd memorised and worshipped with his lips and tongue and touch. And he realised this woman had healed him, with her presence and humour and stubbornness. Harry must surely approve.

Her whisper drifted to his ears like a wisp of smoke. "I have to leave tomorrow."

"I ken."

"Oh, God, but I don't want to."

He pressed a kiss to her temple. "I ken."

She tilted her head back, a soft smile curling her lips. "Speechless for a change, huh?"

He laughed, even though his heart was ripping apart at the idea of her gone from his bed and everyday life, realising what a gift she'd given him this holiday season. "So many things to tell ye but we have little time left. So I'm just gonnae hold ye like this to make up for the long winter ahead."

She blinked twice, a moist sheen apparent in her eyes. "Always the sensible and practical one, aren't you? "

"I willnae be tonight."

Claire caught his intention, and the longing they thought was already sated rose between them once more. He kissed her slow and thorough, taking his time, savouring the taste of chocolate, whisky and sweet honey, sinking deep and demanding everything. And she gave it all and much more, as they made love until all their energy had been spent and fell into a deep sleep in each other's arms.

..........

Claire walked out of the cottage and found Jamie waiting for her, her suitcase already deposited into the rental car. Willie and Annalise were in their own bubble locked in each other's embrace, whispering promises and secrets. She smiled at them, her heart hurting. Though Annalise's and Willie's relationship looked seamless, they'd had their own share of teething problems resulting in a couple of fights. Claire was glad they'd made up already before their departure. Claire walked with heavy feet over to them and cleared her throat, making Willie grinned boyishly at her. He let go of Annalise and gave her a big hug. Jamie did the same and enfolded her friend into a tight embrace.

"My brother and I are going to miss ye both" Willie whispered into her ears.

"Me too. I heard from Annalise, we'll be seeing you in a couple of weeks. Is that right?"

Willie laughed and drew away. "Aye but unfortunately, I willnae be taking my brother with me. Someone has to be here to run the business."

"I know."

"I'll bring ye his love letters though," he teased.

She laughed.

With one last squeeze, Willie let her go. Claire watched Jamie said his own goodbyes to Annalise, making her friend tear up even more. Who would have thought, Annalise would be reduced to a bumbling mess when she had always been the one who had everything under control. Claire watched them both laugh with moisture in their eyes, both trying to downplay what they were feeling.

"Take care of my lass," Jamie whispered gruffly. "Ye have my number in case anything happens. Ye can call me anytime."

Annalise laughed and pulled Jamie in for another hug. Claire knew Annalise was trying to hide her own tears "You have my number too. Send me some candid photos or videos of Willie, whenever ye can."

"I will. I have a few embarrassing ones already on my phone. I'll send them once ye're in London."

Annalise wiped the tears with the back of her hand. "I'd love that."

Willie motioned Annalise over for another final goodbye.

Her friend looked at Jamie before walking over to Willie. "I'll see you when I see you."

Jamie nodded, smiling.

Claire faced Jamie, sliding her arms around his waist. "I don't like goodbyes," she whispered. "I wish I could teleport myself now to London, so I could just go back to bed and sleep off this feeling."

Jamie caressed her cheek, his soft blue eyes filled with adoration. "Dinnae be sad, Sassenach. Enjoy yer trip back home and have a few laughs with Annalise. I took ye away from her a lot of times, keeping ye all to myself. Maybe ye can both catch up with whatever ye lassies talk about."

"I'm glad I'll have her with me on the way home. She will at least keep me distracted from being sad."

"Ye'll keep one another distracted."

They smiled, and Claire was about to say something when a loud excited barking filled the air, and she glanced over to see Rollo bolting towards them, tongue lolling with excitement. She laughed and let go of Jamie. "I haven't seen the kitten. Where is he?"

"Oh, Adso?

Claire frowned. "Adso?"

"Aye, I've named the wee cheetie, Adso. My ma used to have a cat called Adso, and I couldnae think of any other name, so I'm calling him that."

"Goodness, what a horrible name!"

Jamie laughed. "Try saying that to my ma. Anyway, he's at Mrs Fitz's for now until he's big enough to be on his own."

Smiling, Claire got down to her knees and hugged Rollo, burying her face into its warm fur and inhaling the doggy smell. "Going to miss you, handsome," she murmured, stroking the dog's back. "I'll never forget our first breakfast date. You were a perfect gentleman."

Rollo replied by nudging her neck with his snout.

She unfolded herself from the ground and walked towards the car, where Jamie waited. Annalise was in the driver's seat already while Willie leaned on the window talking to her.

Claire glanced at her watch. "I'll call as soon as we arrive home."

"Looking forward to it."

"Well, this is it." She stuffed her hands in her jean pocket and looked away, rocking to and fro on her heels. "Try that mediation I told you about so you don't have any nightmares at night."

"I haven't had them for almost a fortnight, so I guess you have to talk to me on the phone until I fall asleep," he joked.

"That's very good, Jamie," she said, looking at him thoughtfully, this time ignoring the jest that was common in their conversation. "But try to look into meditation. If it isn't your thing, then at least you've given it your fair shot."

"I promise I'll give it a go tonight."

She smiled. "Good."

"And one more thing, Sassenach."

"What?"

"This." He braced her jaws with both hands and kissed her tenderly, the warmth and feel of his mouth, making her sigh, and her heart expand. When he raised his head, he had a beautiful smile etched on his face, almost beatific if it weren't for the mischief that always seemed to shine from his eyes. "I love ye, Sassenach."

"I love you too. See you around?" Claire whispered, suddenly feeling the odd lump in her throat.

"I'll be waiting."

She stepped away from his hold and quickly got into the car, allowing herself to take one last look at Jamie through her window. Time slowed in that instance, as if her brain needed a mental photograph, a keepsake to give her strength in the times to come. With his legs braced apart, one hand on Rollo's head, his coppery hair blowing in the wind, the leashed strength radiated in waves around him as his pale-blue eyes locked with hers. Annalise started the car, bringing her back into this moment, and he smiled and raised his hand in goodbye. She knew that took a lot of effort to keep that happy expression plastered on his face, so she smiled back, though wobbly, and blinked back the tears. A choked sob rose up from her throat, and it felt like she was losing a piece of herself she'd just found.

With one deep fortifying breath, she tore her gaze away from him and looked straight ahead, as Annalise reversed and drove away.

This time, she didn't look back.

She knew if she did, she'd never leave.

Dear Readers,

Well, here we are ... the final chapter of All I Want For Christmas. I thought I'd still be writing this until Easter. 😂 My problem with me is I get so focused on one scene and write too lengthy details about it, instead of quickly moving to the next. But hey, we live and learn. And the main thing is, I finished this story, even though two days later than I projected.

If you think the ending to this chapter is sad, please don't be disheartened because there will be an arc or Part 2 as I wish to call it.

As I mentioned in the previous chapter, I have decided to make this story into a series. The title of the series is, WONDERWALL. So if you wish to subscribe to the series, click here. As for part 2 of this series, I still have no definite date when I will publish it, but you can always subscribe on AO3 here or check my Tumblr blog if you wish to be updated.

My plans are to start publishing the second part around holidays/special days. So either before Valentine's day or St. Patrick's day, all depending on how well I've rested and how quickly I can put the story together.

Having said that, I thank you all for being part of the journey with this story, and I look forward to writing part 2 of Wonderwall for you. And also thank you so much for the kudos, feedback and follows. It warms my heart to know that you enjoy my story. Big hugs for that!

So for now, I wish you good health and strength in these strange times. Keep the good vibes up, take care always and sending you all love. X

PS: I will be updating the Masterlist of this story soon here.

#melodyheart #all I want for christmas is you #claire beauchamp #jamie fraser #Claire Beauchamp/Jamie Fraser #outlanderfanfic

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wornoutmouse · 4 years ago

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Illumi x black Y/N

JUST OCCURRED TO ME I NEVER UPDATED MY ILLUMI STORY ON HERE?!??!

It was the next day when Illumi came home and all night you had to force yourself to ignore the phone calls that came throughout the night. "Y/N I brought you breakfast." you could vaguely hear the monotone voice through your sleepy state. Sitting up you wipe your eyes and look around the room before finally taking in the food in front of you. You blink slowly as you take in the large egg in front of you.

It was about 2 feet tall and larger than your own head with speckled spots all around it. "Illumi what the hell is this?" Illumi blinked at you, "A boiled egg, I heard it is popular among you people." he replies, taking out a spoon and whacking the top of the egg at light speed. All at once, the egg was made up of cracks before they all fell lightly around the egg itself.

"You people? What does that mean" you glared at him, arms folded. Illumi looked at you blankly before closing his eyes and standing up, "Isn't it obvious? Americans." You looked at him for a while, questioning the life choices that lead up to this moment. "Are you going to eat this with me?" you asked poking the large food product with a fork provided by Illumi's brother from your last meal. Illumi shook his head, "No I ate two weeks ago I'm quite full."

At this point, you didn't have any desire to question it as you pierced your egg with your fork eating it. You were surprised at the abundance of taste it held without having any noticeable sauce or seasoning on it. "This is amazing!" you said digging in the egg savoring every bite. Illumi took out a notepad and scribbled something down. "What's that?" you ask, eyes lighting up as you finally made it to the yolk. "Notes my mother gave to me in order to make you accept this family as your own. Step 1: Take them, easy enough. Step 2: a way to a man's heart is through his stomach." Illumi looked up to you with what you could only guess to be pride.

"Did you just call me a man?" you asked blandly suddenly wanting to throw something at the skinwalker. "As far as I can see, you carry no masculine features but even if you did, my family has ways of making it work." Illumi says gesturing at the pins adorning his green vest. You internally shiver at the sight of them as you think back to the night you two met. "Why wouldn't you answer my calls?" Illumi asks, black eyes peering down at you as if they could swallow you whole. "Why did you call me while you were inside someone. Aren't I supposed to be your wife?" you questioned sarcastically licking your lips and setting the plate to the side.

You had only finished about 1/8 of the egg but you felt as if your stomach would implode on itself. You jump as you see a pale hand planted on the bed next to you. You gaze up at Illumi as he looks down at you, seemingly to take in all your features. "Would you prefer I were inside you?" You squeal jumping up and out of the bed falling onto the floor. "Where did that come from!?" you yelled pointing an accusing finger at Illumi as he walked around the bed towards you.

"Although I would prefer our lovemaking to be only when conceiving a child, I do not mind indulging in your fantasies." He says sliding a nail down the middle of his vest opening it up to reveal a green shirt underneath. "You stay right there slender man! Touch me and it's on sight!" you say wielding your fork as if it were a weapon. "Onsight? But I can see you just fine, are you perhaps blind?" You look at him with distaste as you stand up lazily throwing the fork in his direction. “You’re so weird.”

Illumi looked like a kicked puppy, “I don’t know what was strange, you chose to insinuate that you were jealous of me giving physical pleasure to another woman.” There was a knock on the door and a tall man with a mustache walked in. “What is it Gotoh?” Illumi asks, facing the man. Gotoh takes in your disheveled appearance and Illumi’s rare lack of that ugly ass jacket and smirks. “Look OG I don't know what you're thinking but that ain’t it.” you say rolling your eyes before walking into a closet to see what you could possibly wear.

Illumi looks at you with an eyebrow raised, “What is an Oh Gii? Is it a term of endearment?” You look at Illumi for a while before giving him a thumbs-up, “Yeah totally.” Gotoh pushed his glasses up doing his best to contain his amusement. “Your mother and father request a meeting with you and your fiance.” Illumi nods and Gotoh takes his exit.

You pull out an outfit that looks similar to what Illumi was wearing but instead of green it was red. “That'll work.” you mutter flinching as you feel arms wrap around your waist and you feel Illumi rest his head on your shoulder. “I am quite fond of you Oh Gee.”

You have to close your eyes and take deep breaths in order to keep in the laughter threatening to exit your lips.

Much to Illumi’s outward displeasure yet obvious pleasure, you and him were wearing the same thing. Although his vest was tightly hugging your chest and the pants were getting ready to bust from your ass. You two walked down the corridor in silence as you took in the navy blue walls that adorned the hallways. “I mean, knowing what you people do I wasn't expecting to see any loving family photos but how do ya’ll not get depressed with all this nothingness.” Illumi gazes forward but pulls out a small parchment. “I prefer to carry family memories.”

Illumi holds out a small photo to you. You look at it and it appears to be a child Illumi with his father in the woods. Ordinarily, this would be a sweet and endearing photo if not for the fact that Illumi was covered in blood splatter. “This was my first kill.” You quickly handed back the photo and chuckled awkwardly. “How cute a child murderer.” Illumi nodded, “Grandma thought so too.”

You silently prayed that someone, anyone would come to get you from this nightmare.

Illumi opens the double doors and allows you to walk in first. The room was much more lively than the halls but still managed to not look out of place. The room was a deep orange with golds everywhere from the linen to very abstract paintings placed in gold frames.

Sitting on a large pillow was Illumi’s mother and if they had your way, your mother-in-law. Illumi’s father of course sat next to her, broad-chested and overall intimidating. “I bet his dick is small.” you mutter trying to ignore how fast Illumi turned his head to gaze at you. “Illumi my son, come, come, sit!’ The woman cried, throwing her arms in the air in a welcoming manner. Illumi sat down.

You continued to stand because there was no obvious pillow for you to sit on. “Umm.” you scratched the back of your head before walking close to Illumi to sit. “No need for you to sit my dear, you will be leaving soon anyway.” you raised your eyebrow at that and couldn’t help but feel a chill go down your back. “W-What does that mean sir?” you ask. To your left, a small man in a lab coat walked from behind a door holding a clipboard. “We are ready sir.” he says not looking at you the entire time

“Y/N can you please go with him.” Illumi orders not even giving room for objection. You put your hand on your hip slapping away the hand the little man offered to you. “Like hell, I’m just going with Dr. Frankenstein over here without having any information!” Illumi sighed, having the audacity to look embarrassed. “You chose yourself a feisty one, my son.” Silva chuckled looking at you with a gleam in his eyes that made you thoroughly uncomfortable.”Illumi!” you warned, tapping your foot on the carpet. “More like obnoxious.” you could hear Kikyo mutter but you were too pressed with Illumi to care.

“It is understandable Illumi, I’m sure she would be more comfortable with her husband present during the examination.” You tapped your foot faster, getting anxious at the words 'examination.'

After a long pause, Illumi get’s up and follows you into the next room. This room was ordinarily dull. The floor was hardwood but the walls seemed to be adorned with expensive fabrics. “Miss if you will, can you roll up your shirt so I can draw blood.” You jerk your head at Illumi who simply looked blankly at you.

Seeing no other choice you roll up your sleeve but before the doctor could put the needle within you, you freaked out and stopped him before holding your hand out to Illumi. Illumi looked at your hand before recognition set in his eyes. He leaned forward and gave you a high-five. “My brother Killua taught me that.” You put a tight smile on your face before reaching over and grabbing the nearest object and throwing it at Illumi’s head satisfied as it hits him square in the jaw.

“No dumbass, hold my hand.” you responded. Illumi opened his mouth to say something but decided against it before taking your hand into his. Illumi’s hands were unsurprisingly cold considering how pale he was. The fingers were thin, long, and too delicate to belong to someone that takes lives for a living. You couldn’t quite help but laugh at how your skin tones concentrated so drastically, it was almost comical.

Before you knew it the blood work was done but you still didn’t let go of Illumi’s hand fearing what was to come next. “Please take off your clothes.” You Look at the doctor for a second before slowly sliding out of the chair and bolting for the door. Before you could make it you feel the neck of your vest being jerked back. “Don’t make this difficult please.” Illumi sighed.

“Hey you're not the one being asked to strip in a strange place.” Illumi shook his head, “Would you like it if I striped you instead of the doctor?” You smacked him on the back of his head, “No with your weird-ass!”

In the end, you kicked Illumi outside and found yourself propped up in a chair as the doctor took swabs in your cooter much to your discomfort. Illumi comes back in by the time you finally put your pants on and you follow him and the doctor back to the original room.

“How did it go doctor?” Silva asks and as you come closer you notice a large pillow sat out for you. “I’ll have you know my findings are quite peculiar. This woman seems to be a second nen ability within her but it’s dormant. This only happens with twins when one consumes the other.” You knew this fact, your momma always joked about how you were so hungry as a child that you ate your sister. “And what else.” Kikyo said, opening a hand fan impatient. “Is the girl barren and therefore of no use to us?!”

“Oh you won’t have to worry about Illumi’s ability to produce children, this woman is extremely fertile. In fact, I’m sure all it would take would be one time. There is also a high chance they could produce a white-haired offspring.” Your eyes widened, Kids? What the hell are they talking about, it’s been 3 days do you not get a got damn orientation? Silva held his chin in thought, “Though I do not doubt Killua’s loyalty, it’s always good to have a backup.”

You stood up and headed out the door as fast as you could, fists clenched. “Back up my ass, I ain’t having no brat with any of you people!” You walk down the hall, having no intention in mind highly doubting that you could make it to any exit without this damned family allowing you to. “Who the hell are you?” You hear a voice down the hall coming from a small boy with white hair. ‘This must be Killua.” You thought as you continued to walk past him, “A bad bitch who doesn't need no weird-ass fish-eyed man.”

Before you take another step, you hear a loud sound coming towards you, “Get out of the way!” Killua said, pushing you against the wall. There is a loud crack then footsteps, “Hello Killua.” You heard Illumi’s monotone voice say as he comes to be in front of you. Reaching above your head, Illumi picks out one of his pins from the wall behind you. “The hell was that Illumi!’ both you and Killua yell out, pointing an accusatory finger at the man in question.

“I see you’ve met my bride.” Illumi continues ignoring the situation. “It was good to see you again, finally tired of your ‘friend’?” Killua scoffed, “No, I’m here because dad called me.” he shrugs, putting his hands in his pockets and walking away, “Hey!” you look up at Killua who had his hand raised in a wave, “Sorry for your loss.”

Illumi crowds you back into your shared room with more force than necessary. “Hey watch it!” you snap shaking your shoulder out of his grip. “You embarrassed me in front of my mother.” He replied blandly. You roll your eyes, “Well sorry for you pretty boy, but I have bigger fish to fry.” Illumi looked around the room slowly, “I swear to god if you say-” “What fish?” You groan plopping on the bed burying your face into the sheets.

In your own world, you ignore the feeling of the bed sink, but you do not ignore the crotched pressed into your ass. “What in the hell do you think your doing nigga?!’ you say not in the mood whatsoever. “What is a ni-” you swing your hand behind you and attempt to slap Illumi in the face only for him to grab it and press it into the sheets above you. You begin to feel uneasy, “What are you doing fish eyes!?” You attempt to lift your hips but he secured them with his own. “Considering the results, I say that now is a perfect time to start consummating.

#black y/n #blackreader #illumi x reader #illumi zoldyck #illumi #illumi x y/n #illumi x poc #hxh #illumi hxh

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undercoverclover · 4 years ago

Text

A Work Of Art

Pairing: Pygmalion (Sehyoon) x Galatea

Genre: Myth AU, Fluff-ish, Angsty maybe, depending how you look at it.

Word Count: 1.8k

Warning: None?

Summary: When Pygmalion would rather be alone throughout his life, he creates the perfect woman in an ivory sculpture. This is my version of the myth of Pygmalion and Galatea for the @acewriters event, Greco Roman Writes.

As my internal alarm makes me stir, I steal a glance out my window and notice the sun rising just above the horizon. I groan as I sit up in my bed and stretch. I would like to go back to sleep, but I know that if I did, my current works of art would never get finished.

Looking to the corner of the cabin, I see the sheet draped over the sculpture I’d started just the day before. I make some breakfast and then begin carving on what’s to be the perfect image of a woman, or so I hope. By midday, I take a break to relax my aching hands and picture what my ivory sculpture will eventually become and smile. I did not get much done carving the legs, but it was taking shape slowly.

“Oh, Pygmalion!” I hear outside my window.

“What in the name of Zeus do you want?” I grumble.

“We just want to talk.”

“I wonder what he looks like.” A new voice sounds.

“I’ve heard he’s handsome with medium brown hair and eyes that match. I’ve also heard he’s an artist and his work will make you say wow, every single time.”

“We? As in there’s more of you wretched women out there? Go away!”

“But-”

“I do not and will not ever want anything to do with you. Leave me be!” I yell, fed up with them.

I hear them run away and sigh in relief. I swore that I’d never marry a woman in this city and I plan to keep it that way. I despise them all and I never travel, so becoming a hermit is my destiny. I go back to my sculpture and work diligently through the day.

I know that it’s late and the sun went down some time ago, but I have the perfect image in my mind and I have to finish it before I can sleep. Chiseling away pieces and wiping residual dust from it, I run my hand over it. The surface is smooth and such a beautiful color, I hope that it will be just like I imagine it. My hands ache as I carve the final foot, but I feel accomplished. I wash my hands in the basin and change into fresh clothes as my last were covered in dust.

I cover my sculpture and head to my bed for the remainder of the night.

***

The days begin blurring together as my routine stays the same. I wake, eat, work and repeat. Working everyday, I managed to get the sculpture outlined in less than a week's time and almost finished in another. The quiet was peaceful for a time, but I began to wonder what it would be like if I had a wife.

“Pygmalion?” I hear as a knock ascends on the door. I jump up, startled but answer the door.

“Yes?”

“Oh my word, have you not seen yourself as of late?” My longtime friend, Philip says. I’ve seen Philip grow from a small black haired child with light brown eyes to a man. Hell I’d introduced him to his wife not too long ago and they were expecting their first child. One of the only friends I have, I respect him enough not to throw a stone at him right now.

“No, I have not Philip. I’ve been deep in work.” I grumble.

“A new statue? Your brown hair is covered in ivory specks of it that it almost looks white, your brown eyes are red and puffy, and the dust is all over your tunic. For crying out loud, how can you see out of your glasses?” He asks, taking them off of my face and wiping them off.

“Yes, and I just about have her done. Would you like to see?” I ask, excitement in my voice.

“Of course, dear friend!” I let him pass and he gapes at my beautiful ivory queen.

“She’s beautiful, Pygmalion. She looks lifelike! What’s her name?”

“Thank you, Philip. I have no name for her… But, I’m not quite done. I should finish the fine details tomorrow. You may come back and see for yourself before the sun sets tomorrow, if you’d like.” I smile, proudly.

“I must! If it looks this good now, I cannot wait to see what the final product looks like.”

“Then, I will see you tomorrow before sundown.” I smile, shaking his hand. He walks back to the doorway and turns back to me, “You know, she looks like a Galatea.”

I smile wider hearing the sound of that, “That will be her name then. Galatea it is.”

Philip smiles and takes his leave, making plans to return tomorrow and I decide that this is enough for tonight. I lay my tools down and walk outside to relax on the hill where I live. It overlooks the city and has the best view in the entire area. I lay in my favorite spot, watching the sun set before me and frown, letting the loneliness creep in just a little.

The next day, I did it. I finished the details. The long curly hair, her ivory color so flesh-like and the perfect proportions. I stand there admiring my work and finally lean down to kiss her cheek. The best piece of art I’ve ever made.

Philip comes by as planned and fawns over my masterpiece, but leaves just as quickly because his wife could have their child at any given time.

“What I wouldn’t give for Galatea to be real.” I say to myself. Loneliness has set in tonight in full force as I think about the sculpture in my home. She’s going to be perfect. Sitting up, I notice flowers a few meters away, down the hill. I smile sadly, going to pick them.

Grabbing them, I bring them back inside and place them in front of Galatea, leaning down to kiss the statue once again, “Oh how I would treat you like a goddess. Never mind that I seem like an outcast. I’d be the happiest outcast alive, if you were by my side.”

The weeks to come, I become lonelier and lonelier. Slipping into my mind and only seeing happiness when I saw Galatea’s gorgeous face. I dress her in the finest clothing I could buy and even buy a bracelet for her after selling off a small sculpture. Surrounding her with gifts, as if she was my goddess, I decide that I shall not love anyone else. I’d rather love someone I couldn’t have, innocently and purely than one of the vile women that walk this city,

That night, I washed up and instead of laying to rest, I prayed to the Goddess of Love, Aphrodite.

Goddess Aphrodite,

If you would hear my plea. I wish my darling Galatea would be mine, in life. I would treat her as the goddess she is to me. My heart will want none other. I have never asked for anything, but please hear me. I will forever be in your debt and always grateful.

I say my prayer and then go to bed, hoping for a better day tomorrow.

***

The sun waking me, I realize I slept later than normal. Apparently needing it as I didn’t sleep much in order to finish Galatea. Stretching, I sit up and wonder what I’ll do today….

The festival devoted to the goddess, Aphrodite, had begun today and I prepare the artwork and flowers I’d worked on in my spare time for her. Afterwards, I make breakfast and walk into town to sell off some art pieces that I had finished in my spare time. I take the gifts to Aphrodite’s altar and ask for my beautiful ivory statue to come to life. I know it’s highly unlikely, but it’s the only true happiness I want.

Leaving the altar after paying my respects and devotion, I look for more gifts to present to my one and only before I return home. The worrisome looks I am given as I pick things out make me seem like a mad man. That’s alright with me, less people to deal with.

I manage to find a necklace with a purple gemstone, my favorite color. I smile and get it for her, then hurrying home, planning to put it on her as soon as I arrive.

Walking in, the atmosphere feels different, “Hello?” I yell but to no avail.

Pygmalion, enjoy the gift of love. I hear inside of my mind. I wonder what that could mean and return to Galatea’s side. I place the necklace on her and kiss her on the lips wishing I could feel the warmth of them.

And I could….

I gasp, pulling away and decide I must be feeling things that aren’t there. I feel the arm making sure I hadn’t missed any places and it feels just like skin! I kiss her lips again and feel the warmth radiating through them.

“By the goddess.” I smile, as Galatea sits up to face me.

“Hello, I’m Galatea. It’s very nice to meet you.” She says, smiling wide, My heart explodes with delight and I whisk her in a hug, “Hello my love! I am Pygmalion!”

I hear her giggle and it’s music to my ears.

“Oh thank the goddess! Thank you so much Aphrodite.” I say, happily as I swing Galatea around. I sit her on her feet, keeping her hand in my own and show her around our house. She’s smiley and I can’t help but feel such joy that it brings tears to my eyes.

“Oh, Pygmalion. What is wrong?” She says, wiping the stray tear that escaped my hand.

“I’m so happy. That’s all, I promise you.”

“Okay, I truly hope so.” She smiles.

That night, she lays by my side and I feel complete for the first time in my life. She’s my masterpiece and I’ll treat her as such.

I thank Aphrodite every night after Galatea came to life and pay my respects to the both of them any chance I get. Galatea became my wife just a few short months later.

“Pygmalion, I have something to tell you.” I hear. I set my pencil down and turn to look at her. “I have news for you.” She says, smiling widely.

“And what would that be, my queen?”

“You’ll soon be a father.”

“No! You’re telling tall tales!” I hop up, hoping excitedly she’s not lying.

“I’m not. I prayed to Aphrodite last night and she spoke to me. She said something. Oh what was it….”

“Take your time, my queen.” I smile.

“Oh! She said, ‘Enjoy the gift of love.’ and said you’d know it’s real.”

I scoop her up and cheer and cry in happiness.

Later that year my son, Paphos, was born and I could not be happier. I never thought I’d know true happiness like this and here I am, holding a little boy in my arms as his curly black hair falls around his face and he looks at me with his mother's eyes. Finally, with my beautiful wife by my side. I couldn't ask for anything else in this world.

#a.c.e #acewriters #sehyoon #king wow #grecoromanwrites #myth #kim sehyoon #a.c.e sehyoon #pygmalion #galatea #pygmalion and galatea

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cauliflowercounty · 4 years ago

Text

Return to Me (Fred Weasley x fem!Reader)

House: You Choose

Blood Status: You Choose

Word Count: 2k

Warning: Mentions of serious injury/death-ish/distress/war

A/N: Happy Ending

Not proofread yet. I’ll do that later :)

----

Coughing from the smoke and ash, Harry presses himself up against the walls of the castle as Ravenclaw’s diadem shatters in his hands, scorched in the fire Crabbe had set in the Room of Requirement. Malfoy and Goyle disappear down the hallway without a word or thank you.

“Crabbe must have been casting feindfyre. That’s the only explanation for the diadem being broken,” Hermione says once the air’s cleared. “It’s cursed fire so it can kill Horcruxes.”

“What?” you grumble, standing up and catching your breath. “How’d he learn that?”

“Probably the Carrows,” Ron remarks. “He probably had a field day with them. They were teaching the cruciatus curse in their classes. I wouldn’t be shocked if they taught him how to cast feindfyre, too.”

“This means we only need to kill the snake, Harry,” you say, realizing Voldemort’s defeat is closer by the moment.

“Yeah, but how are we going to get it alone?” Harry inquires. “It’s practically a part of him.”

“We’ll figure out when we get there,” Hermione says.

As everyone gets to their feet, the crack of spells can be heard echoing down the corridor, coming closer and closer by the moment. Harry, Hermione, and Ron draw their wands, in preparation. You clench your hand around yours, preparing for whatever might come.

Percy and Fred come into view, dueling two hooded figures in long black cloaks. You sigh in relief. Fred is still alive and fighting with all his might. You watch as the death eaters’ silvery masks reflect the light of the spells as the opponents exchange blows. Percy flicks his wand and hits Pius Thicknesse squarely in the chest, sending him tumbling backward. Fred skillfully blocks a curse headed his direction, countering with a jinx, causing the other death eater to trip.

“Stupefy!” Fred shouts, hitting the death eater as he falls, sending him flying back towards the other end of the hall and knocking him out cold.

“Hello, Minister!” Percy exclaims beside his brother with a smirk. “Seems as though you could brush up on your dueling. And did I mention I’m resigning?”

You jump forward and join Percy, wrapping up the Minister in binds made of his own robes. Percy swirls his wand and the Thicknesse quickly starts to transfigure into a sea urchin. Percy smiles, satisfied with both of your work. Next to you and Percy, Fred lets out a hearty chuckle, the vibrant smile you’ve grown to know to spread over his face. He starts to say something about how long it’s been since Percy’s made a joke since he’s so consumed with his work and shrouded in seriousness. Just as the moment of satisfaction comes that there are no longer any threats in the seventh-floor corridor, everything slows.

The shockwave rips through the air. The explosion is unexpected and devastating as it sends everyone flying and to the ground. White noise rings in your ear. As you feel the rubble tumble past your head and dust fill the air, you don’t have a sense of anything around you or where anyone else is. After a second, you move your fingers and legs, trying to determine your injuries. Other than a few bruises and some residual shock, you seem fine as you get up shakily.

“Hermione? Y/n? Harry?” Ron calls out. “Percy are you okay?”

“I’m alright,” Percy says. “Fortunately, my glasses are the only thing that’s broken.”

“Ron! Thank goodness!” Hermione calls from somewhere around the rubble.

“Where’s Fred?” Harry asks as you gasp in horror. Looking down a few feet away from you, you can see a light-skinned frecked arm sticking out of the rubble.

“Fred!” you shriek, rushing to him. “Fred! Help me! Percy!”

You scramble to move the rocks from on top of Fred in desperation, praying and pleading to anyone or anything that would listen that Fred is okay. The others join you, clearing the rocks with magic and their bare hands. As soon as you’ve uncovered him enough, you scoop him up and hold him against your chest, tugging on his torso and lifting him all the way out of the rubble. His eyes are closed and his body is limp. Resting his head in your lap, you begin to cry.

“Freddie?” you whimper, running your hands through his hair just as he’s always loved. “Are you there? Come on, wake up?”

Percy takes two fingers and presses them to Fred’s neck. Percy’s eyes widen.

“I feel a pulse,” Percy sniffs quietly, a tear rolling down his cheek. “But it’s faint. I don’t know if he’ll between now and when we can get him to Madame Pomfrey…”

Harry, Hermione, and Ron’s faces all drop. Fred’s always been there. Making jokes, teasing Ron, selling his products. Most of all, he’s been with you. They stare at Fred’s face in shock, not even beginning to fathom a world in which Fred Weasley isn’t around.

“I-I have something to ask all of you and I need you to do it fast,” you say quickly. “You have to trust me. It’s for Freddie.”

The four of your friends look at you intently.

“I need you all to cast the Patronus charm,” you explain. “Now.”

“Y/n…” Hermione says. “This isn’t’ the time. There aren’t even any dem-”

“I know, Hermione!” you snap, shooting her a look. “Stop asking questions trust me! I need you to cast it or Fred might not make it! I can’t cast it now. Corporal patronuses are best but shields are just fine! Hurry!”

Everyone nods, grabbing their wands, and soon enough, Harry’s stag, Ron’s jack russell terrier, and Hermione’s otter form in the air. Percy closes his eyes and casts his own charm, forming a small shield in front of him. You nod to all of them and mouth your gratitude.

Closing your eyes, you extend your arm out in front of you above Fred’s chest. You focus and reach further, your fingers feeling as if they’re pushing through layers and layers of magical barriers and shields. As soon as you feel it, you grasp a small vial in your hand and it materializes as you pull it back towards you. The others watch in confusion and awe as you uncork the tiny vial. You murmur a few small words, hoping this will work as you tip the vial.

Out of the vial comes a shimmering liquid that glows as it descends through the air and onto Fred’s chest. It shines as if it’s made from the sun itself and swirls with a pearlescent sheen. As soon as it touches Fred, it glows warm, comforting, filling the entire vicinity in its brilliance. The lights dance with the silvery blue whisps of the patronuses. Within a second, it all fades.

You duck your head down to Fred’s chest and sigh a shaky breath as you listen to Fred’s steady heartbeat.

“You’re okay…,” you smile to Fred, who’s just beginning to stir. His brown eyes flutter open and lock with yours.

“Y/n?” he whispers almost inaudibly, reaching up to touch your cheek with care. He coughs a bit, clearing the dust from his throat.

“It thought I lost you,” you cry as he brings you into a tight hug, your tears staining his jacket. The others gasp and smile. Fred’s still here. He’s not dead. Fred reaches up to Percy, who helps bring Fred to his feet and the three brothers quickly embrace Ron on the verge of tears. As soon as they release, Fred turns to you, scooping you up in his arms and kissing you on the lips, giving it all he can. As you break apart, he rests his forehead on yours.

“I’m sorry I scared you,” Fred whispers, noticing your tears dribbling down your cheek.

“It’s okay…,” you reply softly. “It’s not your fault… I’m glad it wasn’t too late. I don’t know what I’d do without you…”

“I’m not going anywhere now, y/n,” Fred assures you. “There’s no way.”

Hermione clears her throat and you and Fred jump away from each other, surprised at the disturbance. “Y/n, what was that?” she questions

“Yeah,” Ron nods. “Explain.”

“It’s….,” you trail off. “It happened a while ago. I was going through some very old books and I found a long lost magical technique. I had to translate it. What it said was that people can store concentrated healing magic. Once a day, someone can cast a healing spell and concentrate it in liquid form and keep adding to it as long as they want. If it’s kept going long enough, it can perform miracles. It’s inefficient, though. One person can only make one at a time and you can only add to it once a day. It must have fallen out of use for inefficiency… but I’ve made my own. That’s what I used to heal Fred.”

“That’s bloody brilliant,” Ron exclaims in astonishment. “Why would a technique like that go out of fashion? Even if it’s rare, it still had value.”

You shrug in agreement.

“What about the patronuses?” Harry adds.

“Patronuses are more than they seem to be. Expecto Patronum means ‘I await a guardian.’ They repel more than just dementors. They can slow down death in his footsteps. They don’t stop him. Only slow him. Guardians are protectors, after all,” you clarify with a smile.

“So you asked us all to cast one because it would give Fred the best chance?” Ron asks and you smile back to confirm. “Wicked.”

“This bit of explanation and monologuing has been great, but the battle isn’t over yet,” you say. “We still have to kill that snake.”

Harry, Ron, and Hermione agree, beginning to head off toward the courtyard, deciding to seek out Voldemort and his snake directly, leaving you behind to stay with Fred. Just as they get out of sight, Fred tugs at your arm and kisses you lightly.

“Thank you y/n, I-”

“Shhh. Don’t mention it, Fred. I would have saved you any day,” you cut him off. “We can talk about this after the battle when we have a moment to ourselves.”

“I love you,” he adds with a hopeful look. You grin, not being able to resist him and kiss his cheek.

Fred nods and takes your hand. He looks at you in the eyes as if to say, “Ready?” You take a deep breath in, the feel of Fred’s hand in yours reassuring you that he’s still there and this isn’t a dream. With that, you, Percy, and Fred head into battle. This time, you don’t let go of Fred’s hand during the battle for even a moment.

Years later, you’re living in a London flat that you and Fred share. Wealsey’s Wizard Wheezes is a booming business. Everyday, you wake up to Fred, giving him his good morning kiss before he gets ready to work at the shop. You smile as you fix his crooked ties and kiss his nose. As you part your ways as he goes into the shop for his work and you head down the alley for yours, you smile to see all the excited children already gathered outside. You’re happy knowing that the shop is a success because it’s where he comes alive, talking about the products with customers. As you drop him off, George every once in a while flashes you a meaningful smile as if to say “this is all thanks to you.”

You travel with Fred to the United States when the international branches of the shop open, which was a much anticipated expansion. You’re right there in the picture with him and George on opening day as they cut the ribbon, clapping and cheering the loudest out of anyone.

At night, you both return to bed you share, and you snuggle into his chest tightly, taking in the smell of Fred that you’ve come to know and love: cinnamon with a hint of firework smoke. Each time, you tuck your head onto the crook of his neck, smiling, knowing you don’t know what exciting occurrences will come tomorrow, but Fred’s most definitely going to be there right beside you and you couldn’t be more in love.

#fred weasley x reader #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley #Harry Potter #weasley twins

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garbagevanfleet · 4 years ago

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Brightest Blue (series)

PART SIX

Pairing: Josh x reader Warnings: major marijuana usage!! Summary: Things are changing. New state. New school. New roommate. You just pray things are going to click into place. Notes: say hello to your new potential love interest - he’s cute, no? let’s see how he compares.

As always, if you see @lantern-inthenight, tell her thank you for being the very best editor.

On Monday it had dusted snow, but tragically, it had happened while you were in class. You hadn’t even known until you were leaving campus and had seen the lightest coating left on some spots of the grass by the treeline.

When you got back to the apartment, Josh was already there, stirring a huge pot of something on the stove. The room smelled like a restaurant.

“Josh, oh my god, it snowed and I missed it!” you exclaimed, tossing your jacket over the back of the chair.

He paused what he was doing to look up at you and chuckled. “Don’t worry, I promise that’s not the last time.”

“What are you making?” you asked, padding across the linoleum to peer over his shoulder.

“Vegetarian chili,” he answered, lifting a wooden spoon to your face. You blew on it for a moment before taking a taste. “It needs something, but I can’t figure out what.”

“I think it’s perfect,” you replied and meant it, suddenly excited to have a bowl of it.

He hummed at you. “Thanks, but it’ll be a while before it’s done.”

You watched as he swiped the scraps from vegetables from the cutting table into the compost bucket.

“You want to watch a movie tonight?” he asked.

You frowned back at him. “I wish I could, but I’ve got a lot of work to do on my presentation. I’m supposed to be reading it to the class in like two days.”

“Alright,” he agreed, just a shade on the solemn side. There was one thing you knew for sure, and it was that there was a lot you would endure to make sure you didn’t have to see him looking sad.

“I think I can still concentrate on it if I sit with you during a movie.”

He laughed under his breath at your bargain. “It’s okay, you can work in your room instead if you’d like. Or, you can have the living room and I’ll keep to my bedroom.”

You scowled at him and pointedly replied, “Don’t be stupid, Joshua. Okay, I’ll make you a deal. I’m going to work on my paper until dinner time, then we can watch a movie.”

“I’ll take that deal.” He reached out and took your hand, shaking it once in a faux professional manner.

“But, that means I have to work all night on it tomorrow,” you warned, looking directly into his eyes.

He just grinned back mischievously.

+++

“So, what happened?” you prompted, dipping a spoon into a cup of strawberry yogurt. Kate peeked up at you over the rim of her cup, crunching a piece of ice as she set it back down on the cafeteria table.

You had been expecting Josh to join you for lunch, but you’d gotten a text telling you that he had to bail to work on production stuff and he’d see you later. You had been a bit disappointed, but you had to admit that you envied his dedication. Plus, you had Kate to keep you company.

She poured more of her Diet Cherry Coke from the bottle into the cup of ice as she talked. “Not much, honestly.” She looked like she was going to continue until her gaze caught on something over your shoulder.

You were just about to turn your head to find what she was looking at when she spoke again abruptly, making you halt all movement. “Don’t look, but there’s a guy by the vending machine that keeps looking at you.”

You gave her a surprised look. “Oh, what does he look like?”

“He’s kinda handsome - short blonde hair, probably a little taller than you, a little shorter than me.” She paused, fiddling with the cap of her soda bottle as he snuck peeks at him from across the room. “Okay, quick look.”

You chanced a glance over your shoulder and hummed as you turned back to her. “I think I’ve seen him around. I don’t really know him though,” you stated. “Are you sure he’s not looking at you?”

She huffed amusedly at you. “Pretty sure he’s not.”

“Ooh, speaking of,” you started, reaching out and nabbing one of the waffle fries off of her plate and popping it into your mouth. “Have you been texting Jake?”

“Not really.” A scarlet-colored smile was forming on her lips.

“Does that mean yes?” you pressed when you realized that was all the information she was going to give you.

She shrugged at you, already collecting the remainder of her lunch to toss away with a cheeky look.

It wasn’t until your last class that you realized where you’d seen that boy before, and embarrassingly, it wasn’t until he was already sitting next to you.

You glanced over at him, trying not to look too surprised.

“Hey, do you care if I take this spot today?” he asked, seemingly knowing what your answer would be. You kind of wanted to say no, just to prove him wrong.

“Yeah, sure,” you agreed sweetly instead.

“I hope this isn’t weird, but I saw you at Bennie’s party on Saturday and I guess I just wanted to formally introduce myself. I’m Trevor.”

He held out an open palm for you to take, and you cautiously did. “It’s nice to meet you.”

He looked pleased that this was going as smoothly as he had clearly intended - not that he was lacking confidence, but something about his facial posture told you he had expected you to give him a hard time.

“So, I’m not going to lie, this is partly because you seem to be really good at this class, but would you like to study together sometime? We could maybe get coffee after class.”

You looked at him for a silent beat before replying. “What’s the other part of the reason?”

“You seem nice, and I think you’re very pretty,” he said honestly, giving you a smile.

You mirrored it back to him with a nod. “Coffee sounds nice.”

+++

You had made it a point to message Kate, telling her exactly where you were and who you were with, and you had texted Josh, telling him you’d be back in a couple of hours.

Trevor was nice and somewhat funny. He seemed a little intellectually shallow, but you couldn’t actually judge that from an hour and a half long hang out in a coffee shop.

When you got back to your apartment and checked your phone, you had six messages from Kate.

Oh i’m kinda shocked

Good for you tho

Is he cuter up close?

Are you guys actually studding

*studying

i’m going to ask around and see if anyone knows anything about him

You snickered to yourself as you were reading them, before quickly typing back, let me know what you find out tomorrow.

You were greeted by an empty living room and kitchen, but you could see that Josh’s bedroom light was on, so you headed that way as you shedded your extra layers of clothing.

You knocked on the door frame, though the door was wide open to reveal Josh laying out on his bed with a lit joint between his lips and Penny on his bedside table. Folk music was playing from his laptop in a tinny quality.

He peeked an eye open at the sound of your entrance, greeting you with a smile.

“You’re not falling asleep with a lit spliff, are you?”

“This is my second one,” he replied as if that was supposed to answer your question or quell your concern. “You want some? Or do you want to work on your paper?”

You ran your teeth over your bottom lip. “I finished my paper in class today. My professor gave us the whole period to work on it.”

He perked up then. “I can’t help but notice that wasn’t a no.” And after a pause he finished, “And congratulations - I’m proud of you.”

You gave him an awkward thumbs up that he promptly barked a laugh at.

“You wanna?”

“I’ve never smoked before,” you reminded him like it might change his mind.

“C’mere. I’ll help you.”

You held a finger up at him. “Hang on, I’m going to change. Don’t look at me like that, I don’t want my new sweater to smell like pot, dude.”

You returned back in your pajamas, still nervous, but now comfy. He patted the spot in front of him on his bed, prompting you to clamber on. Once you were situated, you tugged his comforter over your shoulders from where it was bunched up at the bottom of his bed.

“Are you good?” he asked.

You nodded at him, nervous enough that he could sense it.

“I’m going to shotgun you, okay?” He put his hand on your knee for comfort, and you had to admit that the touch helped ground you.

“Okay,” you replied quickly.

“Okay?” he prompted again, looking less convinced.

“What does shotgun mean?” you whispered like it was a secret, making him giggle into his shoulder.

“I’m going to blow the smoke into your mouth. Since it’s your first time, I don’t want you to get super high.”

“Oh. Yeah, that wouldn’t be good,” you agreed.

“Okay, I’m going to take a drag, and you’re going to open your mouth and suck in the smoke when I blow it out.”

You watched him raise the paper to his lips, the cherry turning bright orange as he inhaled. It wasn’t until he leaned forward with a closed mouth that you realized how...intimate the moment was.

You weren’t positive he wasn’t going to press his lips directly to yours until you opened your mouth and pulled in his exhale.

“Hold it in a second if you can,” he instructed, his voice a bit deeper from the smoke.

You did as you were told, grimacing as you exhaled. “It tastes like dirty socks.”

He snorted a laugh, tipping his head back until it was rested against the wall.

“I’m not sure what I expected though, because it also smells like dirty socks,” you continued, prompting his laughing to continue until he was sighing contentedly.

“That’s cute,” he said through a grin. “Innocent.”

You could feel your cheeks warming by the second. You rolled your eyes at him playfully.

“Do you feel anything?” he asked, sitting back up to attend to you.

You shook your head. “Not really,” you admitted.

“You wanna try again? You can just take a hit yourself if you want.”

“Actually could you do it again?” you asked, embarrassed, but not enough so that you were willing to do it alone.

He gave you a grin, lifting the blunt back to his lips, but this time when he leaned forward, the fingers of his right hand found your jawline, pulling you into him too. When he blew the smoke to you, it was just inches from your lips, and this time you drank it in, forcing it deep into your lungs and holding it there.

It started to hit you moments after you exhaled it - this pleasant, warm feeling.

“Hang on,” you said excitedly, throwing the blanket off of you as you scrambled to get off the bed. When you returned you had a little speaker and your phone. The playlist that the two of you had collaborated on for cleaning days started playing, and even though he was laying out flat on his bed, you could see his lips turn up into a smile.

You laid next to him, resting your head on his arm and giving a pleasant sigh.

“What’s it feel like?” he asked, a rasp behind the words. He lolled his head to the side to look at you.

“Warm and fuzzy. Kinda like being in love or seeing a really cute kitten. But also kinda like being on a sailboat in the middle of...I don’t know, some European sea. I can’t think of a single one right now if I’m being honest though.”

When you met his eyes, he was grinning like the Cheshire Cat. “Damn, that’s awesome.”

He sat up on his elbow and reached past you to grab something from his nightstand. You were going to look and see what it was, but staring at the little speckles of plaster on his ceiling was suddenly the best thing you’d ever experienced.

“Do you always wear cologne?” you asked, suddenly unsure if you were talking really slowly or if your brain just couldn’t process the sound on time.

“Usually.” When you were able to look over at him, he had a bag of Tootsie Pops by his side, one of the sticks hanging out of his mouth. “You want one?”

You agreed by holding out your hand, letting him give you whatever flavor chance had picked for you.

He had unwrapped it already, which you thanked him for as the flavor of grape hit your tongue.

“What flavor did you get?” you asked, turning over so you could lay on your stomach, head propped up by your hands.

“Cherry,” he replied through a smile, opening his mouth to show you after he asked, “Is my tongue red?”

You giggled at him. “Yeah, it definitely is.”

There was a long, comfortable pause, but you were in no state to determine how long it lasted.

“I went on a date today.” It came out like an admission, despite your efforts to keep the statement casual.

He had an impressed look on his face ”Oh, yeah? With who?”

He sat up with what looked like some effort until he was sitting cross-legged. You breathed a laugh, casting your eyes to the pendant of his necklace where it rested against his sternum.

“This guy, Trevor.”

The shocked smile he gave you felt a little surreal in your state. “I didn’t know you even knew any other people here.”

“I actually met him today,” you admitted.

“And you went on a date with him?” And before you could answer, he continued. “How did it go?”

“It wasn’t really a date, per se. We just had coffee,” you informed. “And, actually, I even bought my own. “

He raised his eyebrows at you until you realized he wanted you to answer the other part of his question.

“Oh, it was okay. I liked him.”

“Was he kind to you?” he asked, keeping his expression level.

You nodded. “Yeah, he was. He offered to get my coffee, but I didn’t want him to think he was like. Doing me some big favor, you know?”

Josh huffed a laugh. “That sounds about right. Sounds like you.”

“We made plans for him to come over on Thursday and study.”

Josh tossed the stick of his sucker across the room, landing it perfectly in the little trash can by his door. “Would you like me to be gone for that?”

You frowned at nothing in particular. “Two things. One, how did you just make that shot? I can’t even move. And two, no, why would I want you to go?”

He shrugged, popping another sucker into his mouth. “I’m full of surprises, you’ve just gotta stick around.”

“Well, I live here so I don’t think that’ll be a problem.” The way you had muttered made him smirk at you. “But no, you obviously don’t have to leave while he’s here. Actually, I’d prefer if you didn’t - I don’t know him very well.”

Josh looked up at you through his lashes for a moment. “Then I’ll be here.”

The both of you hung out on his bed for an indiscernible amount of time, and not once did you ever feel less high. You had intended to get up and brush your teeth, but it didn’t happen, and there was nothing you could do about it. Your eyelids started to feel heavier than you could ever remember them being - like something had ahold of your leg and was dragging you down into sleep.

The last thing you could recall was the sound of Josh’s smoked-out voice, quietly humming along to the chorus of a song and the visualization of the sound behind your eyes, sweeping back and forth between notes.

#brightest blue fic #josh kiszka #josh kiszka fic #josh gvf fic #josh gvf #Greta Van Fleet #greta van fleet fic #greta van fleet fan fiction

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cheeriecherry · 4 years ago

Text

Birds Of A Feather [2/7]

Hawks x Fem!Reader

Warnings: like, one swear

Part 2/7

It’s been a week since you started your new position at Hawks’ hero agency. It’s a nice workplace, very accommodating for the staff, and the sidekicks and interns you work with are friendly and sociable. But there’s still a little piece of you that’s bitter.

You appreciated the job, especially when you discovered what your monthly paycheck would be, but the whole place was just so damn...busy. If you’d known that you’d maintain your hectic lifestyle after moving to Japan, you never would’ve come in the first place.

On top of that, despite your presence being requested by the man himself, you’d yet to actually meet your new boss. Not a conversation, a text, a simple hello, or even a red feather. At this point, you were wondering if the guy even existed.

You decide to mull it over some more on your afternoon lunch hour. You find your usual seat in the staff lounge, and pull out a container of chicken curry.

“Hey Y/N! Hawks says he wants to see you in his office!”

You pause with a forkful of food halfway to your mouth, glancing over at the young sidekick who’d just bounced in. “Can it wait until after lunch?” you ask, hoping to at least finish your meal before dealing with whatever you were wanted for.

The sidekick looks sympathetic. “Sorry,” she says, “but I don’t think so. He asked me to tell you to bring your food…”

You sigh deeply, but thank her for passing the information on. Don’t shoot the messenger, and all that. You begrudgingly pack your things back up and bid farewell to the few people in the room, all of which are ominously quiet.

That didn’t bode well.

----

A few minutes later finds you outside Hawks’ office, balancing your lunch container in one hand while you knock on his doorframe with the other.

His door is wide open, and you can see him sitting at his desk, facing the window and the view of the city. He probably knew you were there before you knocked, but there was no harm in being polite… though he might appreciate the humour of you walking in like you owned the place.

“You wanted to see me, Boss?”

He spins around in his chair, a charming smile gracing his features. You wonder idly if he’d planned that little spiel, and if so, how long he’d been sitting like that for.

“That I did, chickadee! Pull up a chair, make yourself comfortable, eat with me.”

You do as you’re asked.

“Sorry for not seeing to you sooner. It’s been such a busy week, villains and disasters all over the place. I swear, I’ve been to every end of the country.”

You sit tidily on the chair, legs crossed and wings tucked up neatly behind you.

“I understand,” you tell him, “you’re number two, after all. You’re in high demand.”

Hawks smiles wider, but you get the feeling it’s lacking some genuity. You don’t call him out on it, though.

“That’s a relief,” he sighs, slouching back a little. “I looked into you a bit before I hired you, y’know? Gotta make sure you had a good track record, blah blah, PR crap, blah, anyways. The reports said you were a pretty easygoing person. I’m glad they were right!”

You pray he doesn’t notice the slight ruffle of your feathers. Easygoing? Is that what people thought of you? You supposed there were worse things to be known for, but you? Easygoing? Maybe you’d become an actress if the whole hero gig didn’t work out for you, if you’d fooled that many people.

Easygoing. Yeah right. Burnt out, exhausted, apathetic, those were all accurate descriptors. But fucking easygoing?! Hah.

“Hey, you alright, kid?”

You’re about to ask him what he means, to tell him you’re fine and completely unbothered, but your stomach has other plans. Right when you open your mouth to speak, a loud growl interrupts you, aggressively sounding in the quiet of the room.

His grin softens a bit, a touch more kindness apparent on his face. He’s concerned.

“I didn’t mean to take your lunch hour away,” he apologizes, “I had actually wanted to catch you earlier today, but you were on patrol. I figured it wouldn’t be very cool of me to approach you and get swarmed by fans. Not productive for conversation, that.”

You shrug. “I haven’t taken it personally.” In fact, you hadn’t taken it at all. He could have never spoken to you ever, and it wouldn’t have made much of a difference. You were here to do your job, and anything else was an unguaranteed bonus.

“Anyways,” he pulls out a paper bucket of what looks like KFC, and pops the lid off, “eat up. Don’t need my favourite employee dropping out of the sky from exhaustion.”

He digs into his own food, and you take yours out.

“If exhaustion could do me in, I would have fallen out of the sky a long time ago,” you mumble, immediately afterwards spooning food into your face.

Hawks bites off a small piece of chicken. “Whadya mean?” And you curse yourself for forgetting he’s sensitive to sound.

You chew your food pensively, making sure to swallow before you speak (unlike him…). “It’s like. Okay. Wing quirks are pretty rare where I’m from, yeah? In my old job, I was the only airborne hero for five hundred kilometers. I got called all over the place, back and forth, never in one place for very long, almost never at home in my own bed. I was sort of...uh…”

“Spread thing?” he supplies.

You nod. “Spread thin. It wasn’t healthy for me. Anywhere that makes you grow to hate your own quirk can’t possibly be good for you.”

“Now hold up, chickadee,” he interrupts, leaning forward in his seat to rest his elbows on the desk. His eyes are wide and surprised, like he’s unable to fathom your words. “How could you possibly hate your own quirk?”

You think for a moment. “Hate is maybe a strong word,” you admit, “but there’s definitely some contempt there. Flying used to be my favourite passtime, y’know? The views, the wind, the sun, the silence. And then one day I woke up and thought ‘god, I hope they don’t make me fly today’.”

Hawks picks a little at his lunch, but is far to engrossed in your tale to pay much attention to it.

“Yikes,” he says.

“Yeah.”

You’re both quiet for a moment before you start speaking again.

“Two weeks after that happened, I moved here. Figured a change might be nice, good for my head, or whatever.”

“And how’s that working out?”

“I still hate flying.”

The conversation ebbs and flows after that, with Hawks not supplying much personal insight on the matter, despite you just spilling your guts to him. You don’t mind, though, and he doesn’t strike you as the kind of person to open up very easily. You probably would have been more disgruntled if he’d offered you some kind of similar story.

The two of you talk a little about work, what your old agency was like, where you went to school, and the questions centered around your life, and none prying into his. You make note of that, and file it away for later.

By the end of the hour, you’re sufficiently full of chicken curry, and your boss looks like he’s fairing the same (you’re not sure how he managed to pack away an entire bucket for fried chicken by himself).

“Thanks for lunch, Boss,” you tell him with a smile, an unspoken ‘it was kind of weird’ in your tone. If he picks up on it, he doesn’t say anything.

He does, however, stop you at the door, tugging you back into the room by your collar with a single red feather.

“Say, chickadee,” his voice is coy, “how’s about we make the afternoon more fun?”

You raise an eyebrow.

“Come patrolling with me,” he clarifies.

“Why?”

“Flying’s more fun when you’re not alone!” he says, as though it’s the most obvious thing in the world. You doubt him, thinking back to all the times you’d ever flown with someone else (re: none). You relent, deciding to entertain his plan.

“Fine. But don’t fall behind, okay? I take my patrols seriously.”

The strange smile returns to his face.

----

After packing up your dishes and throwing away your trash, you follow Hawks to the stairwell. He said it was best to take off from the roof, if you didn’t want to get bombarded by fans.

“Ah, but I’m sure your fans would love to see you!” you tease, marching carefully up the steps. “It wouldn’t take too long, surely?”

He glances over his shoulder at you, pausing so suddenly that you almost get a faceful of his feathers.

“Well sure, if they were just my fans. Most people have seen me before, though, flying around, fighting crime. But you? You’re new. Your fans in Japan haven’t gotten to meet you yet.”

You tilt your head. “I...don’t have fans, boss.”

“You’re kidding, right?” He swivels around on the step, wings brushing quietly against the cramped cement walls. His expression is one of exasperation, and a hint of disbelief. Once he sees your genuine confusion, however, he sighs. “You really have no idea, do you?”

You shake your head. “I’ve only been here like two weeks. How could I have any significant following?”

He looks at you with a fondness reserved for naive children, or puppies. It’s a little patronizing, in your opinion.

“International heroes are pretty big here, you know?” he explains, “and you, little chickadee, were voted number four on the overseas popularity poll this year. Your fanbase here is rivaled only by a handful of heroes, most of which are in Japan’s top ten.”

You’re shocked, to say the least, and Hawks takes your silence as cue to continue walking.

You dodge his wings again, and resume following him.

“How could I be popular and not know it?” you ask. “Surely someone would have approached me by now-”

“Chickadee, when was the last time you were on the ground-”

“This morning-”

“-in the daytime?”

“Oh.”

You think back a little. You’ve patrolled in the skies since you started working at the agency, and your shifts started before sunrise. Plus, you usually flew home, well after sunset. It was just easier than trying to fit into a car and deal with traffic.

“I guess...not since the day I arrived.”

“Exactly! No one knew you were here, then. But now?” He pushes hard against the heavy metal door to the roof, taking a deep breath when it opens and a breeze blows through. “Now, all of Japan knows we work together!”

You saunter out into the sunlight, basking for a few seconds in the warmth. But the thought of your fans quickly overtakes your mind again, and the relaxation is lost.

“Are you sure it’s not fame by affiliation,” you wonder, “because seriously, I didn’t have fans back home. I’ve never been stopped for an autograph, or asked for a photo. I’m cool with that. I just don’t want people to like me because I’m near you sometimes.”

Hawks steps up on the lip of the roof, wings spread wide and overlooking the city.

He stays like that for a few seconds, and you note the deep tiredness in his posture, behind his eyes. You’ve seen it in your mirror too many times.

He’s just as exhausted as you are.

“Thus is the way of the world,” he mumbles, and you’re not sure you’re meant to hear it.

But then he perks up, as quickly as a light switch. He turns on his heel to face you, mischief and playfulness glinting in his smile. “I’ll race you to the bank tower? If I win, you gotta go on patrol with me tomorrow, too.”

You shrug, and take off into the sky. It’s not much of a fight, though. He has agility and familiarity on his side, and he’s waiting for you by the time you finally arrive at your destination.

You don’t mind.

#hawks x reader #takami keigo x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha #mha #reader insert #winged reader au

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