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shawnsprincesse · 2 years ago

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Russian Roulette (Harry Styles AU)

WARNING, this story contains:

Sex

Dirty talk

Spitting

Choking

TW: Guns

Bella was four when she first touched a gun and six when she first held one in her hand. If you ask her she would’ve rather finished high school and gone to college but this life runs in her blood. Her dad went to prison before she could even hit puberty and her brother is a known killer. Suddenly she finds herself playing Russian Roulette with one of her dad’s rivals, Harry Styles.

Aka

Criminal/gang!Harry fucking Bella in an empty warehouse.

AN: I wanted this to be one of those power couple gang AU’s but I don’t know if I hit the mark or failed! Since I’m so obsessed with crime Au’s I kinda wanna make this a fictional universe so if you want more parts within this AU with different encounters, let me know.

”Hi Doll.” A dark hoarse voice echoed through the empty industrial building. The clicking sound of my black leather boots echoed between the dull concrete walls as two armed men led me through the narrow hallway.

”Why am I here again?” I sighed, simultaneously rolling my eyes as I recognized the taunting voice at the end of the hallway.

The concrete building was placed in the outskirts of the town, it technically hasn’t belonged to anyone for about a decade when the government abandoned it. It used to be a proper building, a warehouse of some sort but now it’s just a concrete maze with graffiti sprayed all over it. Even though it doesn’t formally belong to anyone, it’s well known across town that it belongs to Harry Styles, the man of the voice, and his gang. They call themselves the Bloody Snowflakes which in my opinion sounds more like a Taylor Swift Christmas song about red wine and snow but maybe that’s just me. I guess if you wanna market your business you might as well reference it with your name.

”Bella, always a pleasure.” Harry greeted me as I entered the large, empty warehouse area. The room was larger than a regular sized apartment and it had been scarcely decorated with a round wooden table, two old wooden chairs in the middle of the room. The roof was high, indicating that there had been some kind of products stocked here in the building’s previous life. The walls were bare and covered in dust, there was the occasional graffiti scribble that had been done by some local teenagers years ago. There was a worn out couch by one of the walls where two members of Harry’s little posse were sat, casually playing with their weapons as they watched me enter the room.

The two guys who had led me through the narrow hallway stopped at the entrance to make sure I wouldn’t try to escape. I was left on my own as I walked up to the wooden table where Harry was stood. He flashed me a soft grin as he pulled out the chair for me and urged me to sit down and I didn’t object. He took his time as he rounded the table, the sound of his Chelsea boots clicking against the concrete floor echoed through the room as he made his way over to the other chair.

I quickly glanced around the room, the guards or whatever you wanna call Harry’s little crew was completely silent as they watched the two of us in the middle of the room. The two guys who had led me into the warehouse had now visibly pulled up their guns to warn me that if I tried to escape they would shoot me. The other two guys had now risen from the worn out couch and slowly inched closer to the big, round table. They were also visibly carrying guns in an attempt to look threatening.

When I got here, I had been forced to turn over any weapon I had and there wasn’t much I could do but comply. I willingly surrendered by two guns as the large men tried to pat me down, they did a good job but there was one place they forgot to look, inside my boots. I always carry a small but very sharp knife inside my chunky leather boots, it rarely gets used and definitely not in a situation like this where four grown men are pointing weapons at me but if things turn ugly, I might have to figure out how to defend myself with it.

”Bella-” Harry tasted my name at the tip of his tongue as he looked at me from across the table with his signature grin spread across his face.

”Harry.” I replied as I scanned his face. He had a few scars across his forehead that had faded to a slightly lighter color than his skin. There was another more recent scar on his neck, near one of his tattoos, and it looked like a cut that had been done by a knife. ”What do you want?”

”Always so eager to cut straight to the point.” Harry scolded me, his green eyes rolling back as he observed me from the other side of the table. ”How’ve you been? How’s your family?” Harry tauntingly cooed at me as I leaned forward against the wooden table.

”Just cut to the chase.” I sighed as I placed my elbows on the table. ”Why am I here?” I repeated the same question again.

Harry leaned back in the old wooden chair. He crossed his arms over his broad chest as he sat back and observed me in silence. I could feel his eyes scan down every inch of my body as he took his sweet time to answer my question.

I didn’t choose to get dragged into shit like this, I wanted to finish high school and go to college like a normal person but it’s quite hard to do any of that when your family has been dealing drugs and running this town for centuries. It’s like I was destined to live like this.

No one really knows how it started, all I really know is that once the second world war was a fact my ancestors had to flee across the pond. I guess they kept fleeing until they ended up here in the southern parts of Arizona, near the Mexican border. No one wanted to hire any immigrants back then so I guess they didn’t have much of a choice, they could either die of starvation or do whatever it takes to get some food on the table.

”You know-” Harry began to speak as his eyes continued to slowly rake down my body. His green eyes mainly focused on my low cut, tight fitting top and the cleavage formed beneath it. ”Your daddy owes me a lot of money…”

”Hmm, depends on how you look at it.” I shrugged knowing full well that my dad was indeed in debt. ”Besides, I don’t run my dads errands so maybe you should talk to him about that.” I replied confidently as I adjusted the garter belt, holding up my stockings.

”Unfortunately, he doesn’t answer my calls.” Harry explained with a small sigh. His eyes continued to focus on me and my body as I adjusted the short skirt covering my lap.

”Still-” I paused as I searched for his eyes. ”Not my problem.” I replied cockily as I looked straight into his eyes.

”You know your brother killed two of my men the other week.” Harry’s voice went from soft to stern as his body language quickly switched from casual to dead serious. ”Two of my best men.” Harry repeated, emphasizing the word best.

”Whoops.” I replied as I dismissively twirled my curly hair around my finger. Of course killing comes with the debts and territories and I probably shouldn’t be as numb to it as I am but if I’m gonna be able to sleep at night I have to shut things like that out. I didn’t choose to be a part of this life but now I am and it’s all about survival. I can’t survive if I’m constantly reminded that my father and brother are killers. I can’t survive if I think about the countless lives that have been taken due to my family distributing illegal drugs. I have to ignore all of that if I’m gonna be able to keep living, especially in a town like this, where there’s two rivalry gangs ready to take us down the minute we close our eyes.

I was four when I touched a gun for the first time and six when I held it properly for the first time. I’m sure that wasn’t my mother’s or father’s proudest moment and I’m sure if they could raise me any other way they would but blood runs thicker than water and the second I was born, my dad knew I would become a target for his rivals and if he wasn’t gonna teach me how to defend myself no one else would.

”Whoops indeed.” Harry replied as he continued to focus his intense gaze on me from across the table. ”I wonder what your daddy would say if you or mommy didn’t come home tonight? You see, me and my crew we’re also like family and you know what they say, an eye for an eye…” Harry’s intense eyes searched my face, hoping to get some kind of reaction out of me as I stared blankly back at him.

When he finally broke away from the intense staring contest, I swiftly looked around the room and suddenly the two men who’d previously been sat at the couch was now standing by my chair, one of each side with their loaded guns.

”We’re gonna play a little game, you and I, Doll…” Harry said as he pulled up another black gun from his pocket and slid it onto the large table. My eyes followed the gun as it came to a slow stop in the middle of the large table, I inhaled sharply as I silently waited for Harry to speak again. I already knew where this was going and I tried my best to hide my fear.

”I’m sure you’re familiar with the concept of Russian Roulette. If you manage survive all three rounds, you’re free to go.” Harry explained the simple rules as he reached over to playfully spin the heavy gun as if this was some kind of spin the bottle game. A satisfied grin spread across Harry’s lips as he watched me react to his statement. I tried my best to suppress my nervous breathing as I watched the black gun spin on top of the old, splintered table.

Was he really willing to bet his own life on this? I mean, sure my brother killed two of his men but if we’re gonna play a game of Russian roulette the chance of him dying is 50 percent and what kind of revenge would that be?

I looked around the large warehouse room again, two men stood within two feet of my chair ready to shoot me if I was much as tried to get up from the old chair and if I by some miracle managed to get up from the chair, two other men stood ready to shoot me as I tried to flee towards the exit.

I had no choice but to play by the rules.

”If-” I skeptically wiggled my eyebrows at Harry as he continued to playfully spin the gun.

”If not, I’ll let your daddy know.” Harry’s grin widened as he stopped spinning the gun and leaned back in his chair.

”How thoughtful.” I rolled my eyes at him as I released a heavy sigh.

I had no choice but to pick up the gun. The first time I’d held a gun I remember thinking it was much heavier than I thought but by now I was used to the weight. I’ve never shot an actual person but I’ve practiced on other targets many times. I would say that I’m a pretty good shooter.

The gun was already loaded and ready to shoot. I steadied myself and my arm as I tried to fixate my aim on Harry. Harry sat relaxed on the opposite side at the table, he had a vague smile on his lips as if he enjoyed watching me suffer. I refused to let him intimidate me, I tried my best to keep my body composed and my facial expression neutral even though I was slowly getting more and more nervous on the inside.

The idea of death itself didn’t scare me, what terrified me was the fact that my family and especially my sweet mother, would have to carry on without me. My mother pleaded for my father to never drag any of us into this, all she ever wanted was to be someone’s housewife, but with a town this small and rivals this persistent it’s hard to leave your family out of it.

”Aiming for the heart, that’s a little cruel Sweetie.” Harry noted as he watched me adjust my aim.

”Don’t be ridiculous, you don’t have a heart.” I replied as I pulled the trigger back. Harry’s small smile widened into a smirk as he watched me tighten my grip around the gun. ”You’re the one that wanted a death game, I’m just giving you what you want.” I said as I mentally and physically prepared to pull the trigger.

I’ve never seen a person get killed or shot and I’m not sure how I would react if the bullet actually fired from the gun and collided with Harry’s body. Maybe I wouldn’t react at all or maybe I would panic, either way I would come out of here alive.

”Ready?” I asked unsure of whether I wanted to actually pull the trigger or not.

”Do I have to be?” Harry asked with a smug grin on his lips. He shrugged his shoulders like it didn’t matter to him when I would shoot him, I couldn’t tell if he too was putting on a brave face or if he actually couldn’t care less about his own life. Maybe he didn’t care anymore, he too had probably dedicated his entire life to committing crimes and if that’s the case he probably didn’t care when or how it ended. What else could he possibly have to live for than his criminal brothers and the illegal money he collects every night.

”Fair enough.” I shrugged in agreement. I took another deep breath before I slowly pulled my finger away from the trigger. The gun made a clicking sound and I blinked twice before I hastily tried again, and again, and again, until the barrel was for sure empty.

To my surprise there was no bullet in the cylinder and Harry was still sat, leaned back with a smug grin on his lips, on the opposite side of the table looking very much alive.

”See, I figured you would pull a stunt like that…” Harry grinned, he seemed proud of himself.

”Can’t blame me for trying.” I shrugged as I shoot the gun back onto the table.

”We’re gonna go again, but this time it’s gonna be loaded.” Harry reassured me as he grabbed the gun from the table and pushed a bullet into the cylinder. ”Ladies first.” He said as he slid the gun across the table towards me.

This time I grabbed the gun with caution, it felt different somehow, more real even though I’d had no clue that the gun wasn’t loaded the previous time. Maybe I shouldn’t have done that, maybe I should’ve just waited my turn and Harry would’ve let both of us live, maybe I fucked up.

”And if you try to pull the trigger more than once, you’ll get shot.” Harry said in a serious tone as he motioned towards the two men standing next to me with their guns aimed towards my chest area.

I once again pulled back the trigger and exhaled with a deep sigh. I wasn’t sure what outcome I wanted the most, on one hand I wanted to live but on the other hand, I didn’t want to take anyone’s life. My fingerprints and DNA are all over this gun and Harry isn’t stupid, he’s probably already prepared a whole case against me. There’s no way his men are just gonna let me go, they’re probably gonna frame me for murder and I’ll end up spending the rest of my life in jail.

”Alright, might as well get this over with.” I sighed as I released the trigger. The gun clicked and I released a small sigh of relief as I noted that the two of us were both still alive. Harry, still sporting a smug grin on his lips, seemed so sure of himself as he reached for the gun on the table.

Harry spun the cylinder again and I swiftly calculated the chances of me surviving inside my head. If Harry hadn’t spun the cylinder my chances of getting hit would’ve been 20% but by spinning the cylinder my chances of getting shot are now reduced to 16.8 percent. I don’t know whether that’s something worth celebrating but I guess at this point, I’ll take any chance I can get.

Harry pursed his lips together as his eyes once again took a good look at me. He ran his fingers through his messy curly hair as he pressed his finger back against the trigger. I tried my best to hide how scared I really was, I’ve never been shot before, does it hurt? What does it feel like? What if I survive?

Harry wasn’t aiming for the heart like I was. He was aiming lower, towards my stomach and intestines. I don’t know anything about anatomy, maybe that’s just as lethal. Who cares? I’ll either live for another round or I’ll die and all my worries will be a waste anyway. I tried to keep my eyes focused on Harry’s face as I inhaled sharply, hoping that one way or another it would all be over soon.

Harry released the trigger and the gun once again clicked. I released another sigh of relief. I hadn’t noticed how tense I was before but as Harry slid the gun across the table, I felt myself slump back against the old wooden chair, relieved that I hadn’t just taken my final breath.

I spun the cylinder as I tried to regain my composure. I used the table as support for my elbows as I once again aimed at Harry. I didn’t want to kill Harry, he hadn’t done anything for me to kill him but it was either him or me. The chances that one of us survives all three rounds are slim but it’s still better than nothing.

I aimed for the heart again. I didn’t know where else to aim, if I was gonna shoot and kill Harry I figured it be nicer to just go for the heart right away, sort of like a simple execution rather than a slow hanging.

”Still aiming for the heart huh?” Harry flashed me another cheeky grin as he watched me adjust my grip around the black gun.

”Like I said, you don’t have a heart.” I argued as I looked Harry straight in the eyes. He tried to intimidate me with his intense gaze but I tried my best to ignore it.

”Are you sure about that?” Harry asked, his flirtatious grin contrasting his intimidating eyes as he kept his gaze focused on me.

”If you did, we wouldn’t be in this situation.” I argued firmly as my finger hugged the trigger. I knew I probably wouldn’t be able to talk Harry out of this but it was at least worth a try, if anything the conversation would at least delay the inevitable for a little while.

”Don’t put the blame on me. We’re in this situation because your brother fucked up.” Harry shrugged as if he couldn’t care less about this situation. This time the gun was loaded, we both knew the gun was loaded and that there was a chance either one of us would die before we would finish the third round so why was he so calm about all of this, maybe he truly didn’t care whether he lives or dies.

”So you choose to punish me for it?” I argued with a stern gaze as I mentally prepared to release the trigger.

”Yeah, because you’re daddy’s little treasure. Gotta hit ’em where it hurts.” Harry explained as he met my challenging gaze. His soft grin remained on his plump lips even as I released the trigger and the gun made another clicking noise.

I shoot the gun over the table, relieved that the second round was almost over. All I needed to do was survive this round and another one, it would definitely be a bonus if Harry also managed to survive because then I wouldn’t walk out of this place a murderer.

”What about your parents, aren’t you their little treasure?” I asked, hoping to spark some kind of emotion inside Harry that would make him stop this game before it was too late. He might not care about his own life but maybe his parents does.

”They’re dead.” Harry replied dryly. ”That’s why I created my own family.” Harry said as he motioned towards his crew members or his brothers as he probably would refer to them.

”I’m sorry.” My voice came out more compassionate than I intended for it to. My family has always been there even though my dad hasn’t made the most honest living and my brother may not be the best influence, they’ve always been there for me and I don’t blame them for choosing to live the life they live because it’s all about survival.

”Nah, it’s alright.” Harry brushed it off as if his parents death was no big deal. ”I got everything I need.” He shrugged and I wasn’t sure if he was trying to persuade me or himself.

”What about love?” I asked and Harry shot me a cynical gaze. He pursed his lips into a thin line as he got ready to release the trigger.

”I’m doing alright.” He replied to my question before he released the trigger. It was as if he had to reassure me that he was perfectly fine with his life before he pulled the trigger in case I would die within the next minute or two.

”Why don’t I believe you?” I cooed skeptically as Harry forcefully pushed the gun across the table for the last round.

I grabbed the gun and held it casually in my hand as I waited patiently for Harry to respond.

”You don’t have to.” Harry shrugged, he couldn’t care less either way.

”What if you die today, not knowing what real love feels like?” I questioned him. I wasn’t sure I knew what real love was either, love terrifies me.

”Then so be it.” Harry continued to shrug to keep up his careless appearance but something told me that deep down inside, he did care. ”When did this turn into a therapy session?” Harry snorted out as he watched me spin the cylinder one last time.

”I mean, if either one of us is gonna die this last round, you might as well talk it all out… Make a final confession.” I smiled sheepishly. I kept the gun in my hand as I tried to make casual conversation with Harry, he seemed annoyed that I was postponing the last round.

The conversation helped me keep my nerves in tact. I know that me being calm doesn’t make a difference, it’s not gonna affect the outcome of this last round, but somehow I had hopes that maybe if I could keep myself calm the universe would save me from complete disaster.

”So let me get this straight, in what may be your last minutes on earth, you wanna discuss my love life?” Harry asked as he raised his eyebrows at me, indicating his skepticism.

”Why not?” I shrugged. ”I’ve got nothing better to do.” I replied with a soft grin.

”Well Bella-” Harry once again tasted my name at the tip of his tongue. ”If you must know, I’m not interested in love.”

”You say that as if love is a choice.” I pointed out.

”I mean, isn’t it?” Harry asked confused. ”I choose whether or not I want to be in a relationship don’t I?” Harry argued.

”Fair enough.” I shrugged.

”I’m perfectly fine with being single.” Harry grinned proudly as he leaned back in his chair.

”Good for you.” This conversation wasn’t going anywhere and I’d ran out of things to say so I guess it was time to initiate the inevitable last round.

”Are you?” Harry asked before I could take my aim.

”Am I what?” I asked confused.

”Perfectly fine with being single?” Harry asked as he once again crossed his arms over his chest.

”I guess.” I shrugged. ”I don’t mind it.”

”A perfectly fine lady as yourself, I’m sure you get tons of male attention.” Harry flashed me a flirtatious grin as he once again stared me down. I tried to ignore his obvious advances but my body was slowly betraying me as a soft blush crept onto my cheeks.

”Whatever.” I choked out, uncomfortable with where the conversation was going. In a desperate attempt to silence the conversation I placed my elbow back on the table and adjusted the gun in my hand.

”Oh-” Harry cooed as he noticed my mood shift. ”You don’t wanna talk about your love life?”

”Let’s just get this over with.” I sighed as I ignored his gaze, pretending to focus on my aim instead. I spun the cylinder again for good luck before bringing my finger to the trigger.

”I’m sure you’ve had tons of boyfriends throughout the years.” Harry teased me with a cheeky grin on his lips. I could tell that he was trying to annoy me by pushing my limits. ”I mean look at you-” I wasn’t sure if he was flirting with me or just trying to get under my skin but either way, it was throwing me off.

”Are you done?” I asked. I wasn’t gonna shoot him mid-sentence.

”You’re not good with compliments, are you Darling?” Harry cheekily grinned towards me and I still wasn’t sure if he was trying to flirt with me or just try to get under my skin.

”I really just want to get this over with.” I tried to dismiss his question.

”Alright, go for it.” Harry urged me on.

I took a deep breath as I released the trigger for the last time. My body jumped as the gun once again clicked. The click felt so much louder this time and for a second I thought a bullet had been released but as I regained my composure I noted that Harry was still sat on the opposite side of the table, still alive.

”I guess at least one of us is making it out alive.” I sighed as I slid the gun over to Harry. This was it, the last turn, life or death, my fate was now in the universe’s hands.

I watched as Harry spun the cylinder, the sound of the metal spinning echoed between the four concrete walls. My eyes drifted off to the graffiti on the wall, this used to be an innocent warehouse and later an abandoned place where teenagers would come after school to pull small pranks on their friends or spray graffiti as a revolt towards the government but now it was a dark place filled with drugs and weapons and evil.

I looked over at the two guards by the door and the worn out couch behind me. Death seemed so much closer this last time around than it’d done any previous times, maybe it was because the statistics weren’t on my side this time around. I still had 1/6th of a chance of getting hit by a bullet but what are the chances of surviving a third round? I know there’s a way to calculate this mathematically but I can’t even think straight right now so I’m just gonna assume that the chances are small.

If I die today, I’m never gonna see my mother or any of my family again, I’m never gonna get the chance to create my own family and have my own children and I’m never even gonna get to know what real love really feels like and now that it comes down to it, I realized that I do care about all these things. I do care about life. I want to live.

”Any final words?” Harry asked as he held the gun steadily in his hand.

”Just get it over with.” I released a heavy sigh as I stared straight into the small barrel of the gun.

”Alright.” Harry replied with a shrug. He placed his finger on the trigger and before I could even count to three or take a deep breath, he released the trigger. My heart was beating so loud that I could barely even hear the click of the gun. My eyes blinked as I internally panicked and it took me a few seconds to realize that I was still alive.

Harry emptied the gun out and waved for his men to exit the room, leaving the two of us alone as I tried to compose myself, silently thanking whatever God was out there for letting me live through this.

I watched as Harry put the gun down in the middle of the wooden table where it had first been placed before the game started. I released another sigh as I watched him lean back in his chair, now what?

”I guess we’re both making it out alive.” Harry said in a light, joking manner. I couldn’t tell if he was just as relieved as I was or if he was used to playing Russian Roulette and winning, maybe he’s done this a million times before.

I stayed glued to my chair, still a little bit shocked that I’d managed to survive all three rounds and was now able to way away alive. My eyes followed Harry’s movements as he got up from his chair and walked around the table. I could feel my muscles relax against the hard wooden chair as I simultaneously let my hands fall back into my lap.

When I suddenly felt a small touch to my shoulder, my initial instinct was to jerk away from it, maybe I was still a little in shock. My eyes swiftly shifted to the fingertips tracing over my bare shoulder and I watched as Harry gently pushed the small spaghetti strap to the side. His fingertips continued to trace down the outline of my collarbone and I continued to watch in silence.

”You know Bella-” Harry started speaking in a soft, seductive manner. His hand continued to trace down my upper arm sending shivers down my spine. I could feel Harry’s hand shift over my shoulder blade and I sat in silence as his fingertips slowly moved my curly hair to the side, exposing my neck.

My eyes shifted to the table where the gun casually laid, unloaded and angled towards the worn out couch to the right side of me. I couldn’t figure out why I hadn’t just upped and left the second the game was over but now it was like I was permanently glued to this chair, like I’d relaxed a bit too much and melted into the chair, it was like me and the chair had become one.

”You and I are not so different you know.” Harry continued to speak in a soft, mellow voice as he exposed my neck. I could feel his heavy breath inch closer and closer to my exposed skin as he stood leaned over behind me. ”You should just come work for me instead-” Harry’s seductive voice filled my ears, sending shivers down my spine as he got even closer to my delicate skin. I could feel the hairs on my neck rise as his heavy breathing hit my delicate skin.

I was once again caught off guard as Harry placed his soft, slightly moist lips against my neck. This time I didn’t shy away, not only was I molded into the chair but I was also once again paralyzed. This time it wasn’t due to an overwhelming amount of stress but something else, something different.

Harry continued to trail his lips over my sensitive neck, his hands slowly exploring the bare skin on my arms as he stood behind me. My eyes shifted from the gun on the table towards the grey concrete wall on the other side of the room. I tried to focus on the graffiti on the wall as I internally tried to figure out why I was still paralyzed. I should’ve run by now, every sensible thing inside my body tells me to run, yet here I am completely stuck on an old, squeaky chair.

I released a quiet moan as Harry continued to assault my neck with his lips. His soft voice continued to hum against my skin as I tried to keep my composure in the old chair. It wasn’t like I was totally numb to Harry’s attempt at seduction, he’s an attractive guy, it was just that this whole situation happened to be absurd to me. Who tries to seduce someone five minutes after playing a death game with them.

”I could use some pretty girls around me.” Harry continued to whisper sweetly as he trailed his lips all the way down my neck. I let out another soft moan as I felt his warm mouth on my neck.

”You don’t have enough of those already?” I tried to quietly object but his lips were distracting me and for some reason, I wasn’t stopping him.

”None as pretty as you baby.” Harry replied cheekily as he slowly removed the other strap of my top as well.

”Sure.” I replied as I turned my head so he could watch me roll my eyes at him. ”You want me to work for you?” I emphasized the word me as I stared at him with skeptical eyes.

”Yeah, I could use a girl with some attitude.” Harry grinned as he traced his index finger over my jawline and down to my chin. He directed me by my chin, forcing me to stare straight into his eyes as he waited for my response.

”Yeah right, and what do you think my dad will do once he finds out?” I argued back equally as skeptic as before.

Harry didn’t reply to that, instead he led my face towards his and before I could object, his soft delicate lips pressed firmly up against mine. They felt just as warm and soft against my lips as they’d felt against my neck and for a moment I instinctively closed my eyes to enjoy the moment. I could feel myself relax as Harry continuously pressed his open mouth against mine. I swallowed his hot breath as he breathed heavily into my mouth, his tongue gracing my bottom lip as he patiently waited for me to grant him full entrance.

I slowly parted my lips and Harry was quick to slide his tongue inside my mouth. He slowly scoot the chair back, pushing himself as his tall body in front of me as I tilted my neck up to meet his mouth.

He grabbed a hold of my waist, urging me to stand up all while continuing the kiss. I stood up in my heels for the first time in what felt like ages and without another word, Harry twirled me around so that I was now with my back against the old table. He lifted me up onto the table with one swift motion and without breaking away from the kiss. My hands instinctively searched for his neck, urging him closer to me as he continued to devour me with his mouth.

”My dad’s gonna kill me.” I whispered through my heavy panting.

Harry flashed me a cheeky grin as he placed his hands on my inner thighs, his palms gently tracing up my stockings and over my garter belt.

”He doesn’t have to know.” Harry whispered as he continued to trace his hands up my inner thighs, pushing my short black skirt up my legs.

”Hmm.” I hummed as I felt his large hands slide over the thin fabric of my panties. I let out a soft sigh as his hand gently slid between my legs, caressing me through my panties.

”I mean I’m not gonna tell him, are you?” Harry raised his eyebrows at me cockily. His grin, teasing and taunting as ever.

”No.” I whispered quietly as I felt Harry’s hot breath brush against my lips.

The two of us stared at each other with hunger in our eyes and without another word, his lips came clashing down on mine. I let out another soft moan as Harry pushed himself towards me, forcing me to lean further back against the table.

Harry moved his hand over my panties, his fingers pressing gently against my clit as he rubbed me through the fabric. I could feel my body respond immediately to his touch, the butterflies in my stomach quickly awakened and I could feel myself get wet in between my legs.

Harry kept pushing his lips onto mine, forcing my body further back and down onto the wooden table. Soon he was hovering me as I laid with my upper body on the table. His hands continued to caress my face as he removed his lips from my face and continued to trail them down my neck and body.

”No one has to know, it’ll be our little secret.” Harry whispered as he continued to explore my body with the palm of his hands.

I mewled softly as he grabbed a hold of my breasts, kneading them together through my tight top and push-up bra.

”I swear to God if you tell anyone, I’ll kill you.” I tired to come off as a threat but really, if anyone found out and the word somehow got to my dad or brother I’m sure I would be the dead one.

”Aw don’t worry Darling, you can be my pretty little secret.” Harry grinned seductively as he continued to travel down my body. I watched as he slowly inched his fingers between the waistband of my skirt, he urged me to lift my hips so that he could pull it down properly and I didn’t object.

I watched as he peeled the cotton fabric off my body, exposing the black laced panties I was wearing beneath it. Harry licked his lips as his hands continued to trail down my garter belt and over my stockings. I felt a small shiver run through my spine as Harry’s hands slid all the way down to my ankles, exploring every bump and crease on my body before letting me go.

I watched as Harry stood between my knees, his hands slowly reaching to unzip his black jeans before getting rid of his torn up t-shirt. My eyes scanned down his lean body, it was full of scars and tattoos that was everything from a homemade scribble to a large artistic piece of art. I’m sure every tattoo had a different meaning but to me they just looked like a jumbled up mess. He was tattooed all the way up his arms, neck and had several pieces scattered across his chest and torso. Besides the scar on his forehead and neck there was also a large faded scar by his stomach and one near the side of his ribcage. They looked like stab marks and I know this wasn’t the right time to ask but I was still curious what had happened to him.

Harry peeled off his jeans and I watched as he was left in a black pair of boxers. His legs also had multiple tattoos scattered all over them, it was everything from a random tiger drawing to a mandala and other random objects. His whole body looked like a whole notepad. I watched in silence as Harry began to slowly peel off his boxers, my eyes widened at the sight of his cock, it was probably the only thing on his body besides his face that wasn’t tattooed.

Feeling a little shy I shifted my eyes towards Harry’s V-line that could be seen through the black inc. Harry let out a soft chuckle as he looked down at me.

”You shy all of a sudden?” He asked tantunginly as he watched my gaze shift away completely from his body. It wasn’t that I’d never seen a dick before, it was just weird to see him naked. I know him as my dads rival and seeing him naked is quite absurd.

”No.” I replied swiftly. My eyes quickly shifted to his eyes in an attempt to prove to him that I wasn’t gonna shy away from his gaze.

”I think you are.” Harry teased me as he stood between my knees, his upper body leaning over me so that he could seductively whisper the words into my ear.

”I’m not.” I argued back with confidence.

”Yeah? You ever been with a man this big before? Think you can’t handle it?” Harry jokingly teased me as he played with the straps of my garter belt.

”I know I can.” I spit back with confidence.

”Are you sure?” Harry whispered teasing as he slid one of his hands over my panties while his other hand reached back down to stroke his own cock. He was already hard enough and my body was more than ready for him to enter me at this point. Harry didn’t really strike me as a foreplay kind so I didn’t expect him to beat around the bush too much.

”Give it to me and I’ll prove it.” I replied sassily and Harry snorted out a soft chuckle.

”So feisty.” He hummed approvingly. ”I like that.” Harry said as he flashed me a pleased grin. I playfully wiggled my eyebrows at him as I watched him slowly hook his fingers between my panties.

I lifted my hips off the table as I watched him slowly peel them down my legs.

”Wait.” I let out a soft giggle as I felt the panties pull at my garter belt. I quickly helped Harry free my panties from the garter belt and without any further struggles, I laid back down with my pussy completely exposed to him.

Harry slid two of his fingers between my slit to explore how wet I was. I didn’t realize how wet I actually was until I felt his rough skinned fingers slide into my tight core. I let out a deep moan as I laid back on the table, I could feel my toes curl inside my ankle boots as I pressed my feet firmly against the concrete floor beneath me.

”Mm fuck, that’s a nice wet pussy.” Harry stated with a deep hum as he felt my walls clench around his two fingers while they buried themselves inside me.

”Don’t get a lot of those, do you?” I teasingly called back with confidence.

”Oh please.” Harry chanted as he rolled his eyes at me. ”I could get any pussy I want.”

”Except mine.” I retorted with a chuckle.

”I’m getting yours right now, aren’t I?” Harry replied cockily as he slowly slid his fingers inside me, his fingertips curving slightly in an attempt to reach my G-spot.

”What makes you think I’m gonna fuck you?” I grinned. ”I could just get up and leave.” I teased him as I leaned back up on my elbows to prove my point.

”You wanna leave, go ahead.” Harry smirked as he pulled his fingers out of my pussy and waved his hand towards the narrow hallway where I’d walked in about an hour ago. ”I’m not stopping you.” He pointed out as he stared down at me with his green eyes.

”Might as well finish what we started, don’t you think?” I whispered as I met his lustful gaze.

”Okay, but you should know I’m not into the usual vanilla stuff.” Harry said as a smug grin spread across his lips. ”I can get a little rough.”

”I can handle rough.” I replied with a cheeky grin.

”I figured.” Harry smirked as he grabbed onto my waist, he urged me closer to the edge of the table. ”You look like the kinda girl that likes it rough.” Harry noted, his smirk widening as he grabbed a hold of my ankles and guided them up onto his shoulders.

My lower back rested against the edge of the old wooden table and for a second all I could think was ”I hope I don’t get a splinter in my ass”. Harry aligned himself between my legs, the table was a little too short to match his height so he had to bend down slightly in order to align himself by my entrance.

My eyes traced up my own legs as I watched them rest on top of Harry’s shoulders, my heels were still clinging onto my foot and my stockings were still completely pulled up and attached to the garter belt. I continued to let my gaze wander towards Harry’s shoulders and the many different tattoos covering his chest.

”You do, don’t you?” Harry continued to grin as he stood in front of me. I watched as Harry leaned his head over slightly, his saliva began to dribble out of his mouth and suddenly I could feel the warm liquid drip down my exposed slit. I’d never had someone spit on my pussy before but damn, it was hot.

After a decent amount of Harry’s saliva made its way onto my bare skin, he reached down to use his rough fingers to spread it out over my already wet pussy. I let out a soft groan as I felt his fingertips rub roughly over my slit and clit, making my legs tremble against Harry’s shoulders.

”Fuck.” I moaned out loud as I felt him roughly rub his fingers over my sensitive clit. He leaned his head over again, this time he didn’t gently dribble the saliva through the air - instead, he gathered it in his mouth before roughly spitting it out of his mouth and onto my pussy.

The saliva pooled around my entrance and I watched with my elbows propped up against the table as Harry used his other hand to push two of his thick fingers inside me. He didn’t explore me softly or gently like before, instead he pumped his fingers in and out of my soaking wet cunt at an incredible speed that in combination with his rough movements over my clit made my entire body tremble.

”Ohhh fuck.” I moaned as the intense pleasure coursed through my body. I could feel my body rub against the old wooden table as Harry fingered me roughly, his fingers slamming into me with force as he continued to add more and more saliva to the mix. The rough movements over my aching clit in combination with his fingers was a deadly mix.

My hands clawed back against the old table as I felt his fingers buried deep inside me. His lips pursed into a cheeky grin as he watched me struggle on the worn out table. I couldn’t stop my stomach from clenching hard as he continuously hit the right spot inside me.

”Oh my God-” I whimpered loudly as I felt his rough fingers assault my clit while his index and middle finger slammed into me mercilessly. ”Fuuuck.” I moaned out loud as I watched Harry lean his head over again. My eyes followed the clear liquid as his spit traveled all the way through the air and down onto my pussy. ”I’m gonna-” I choked out as I pressed my ankles down against Harry’s shoulders in frustration. It was like I was no longer in control of my own body, I couldn’t control my movement or the intense pleasure I was feeling inside me.

”Fuck, I’m coming.” I called out loud as I felt the forceful pleasure take over my body. I could feel my legs twitch as the sweet orgasm conquered my entire body. One second my stomach was tense and the next second it was like there was a huge sigh of relief coursing through my entire body and I could feel my muscles relax as my pussy walls pulsated around his fingers.

At this point, I was soaked between myself, I could feel myself physically coming, squirting if you will, as Harry continuously pushed his fingers inside me like a jackhammer. I was breathless, panting, moaning and whimpering all at the same time and I didn’t know what else to do with myself at this point, the fact that Harry didn’t stop after I’d announced my orgasm to him made my struggle even harder, it was almost painful at this point but in a good aching way.

”Good girl.” Harry rewarded me with one of his signature smirks as he watched me come all over his fingers.

”Fuck me.” Was all I could physically choke out as I stared up at Harry in disbelief. I’d never been finger fucked like that before and if that’s how good he is with his fingers, I can’t wait to see how good he is with his cock.

”What’s that?” Harry held one of his hands up to his ear, pretending like he hadn’t heard my choked out request.

”Fuck me.” I ordered firmly as I looked up at him with fiery eyes.

Harry continued to grin teasingly as he removed both his hands from my pussy. He shifted between my legs and placed his cock on top of my already swollen pussy. After another little dribble of his spit, Harry began to slowly grind his cock against my slit, coating it in his own saliva and my juices.

”Now?” He asked teasingly as he pressed the tip of his cock against my sensitive clit.

”Stop fucking around and put it in me, Styles.” I growled in agony as I felt his length slide between my sensitive lips.

”Or what?” Harry continued to tease me like a taunting school boy.

”Or I’ll have my dad kill you!” I growled, voicing my frustration as he continuously grinded his cock against my pussy.

”Is that a threat Sweetie?” Harry flashed me a teasing smirk as he spoke to me in a taunting, condescending manner.

”It’s a fucking promise, try me!” I retorted roughly as I was starting to get frustrated with his teasing cock.

Harry’s smirk widened as he shifted his gaze towards my pussy. He released a soft little sigh before he grabbed a hold of his cock and roughly pushed it inside me. He didn’t hesitate or stop until he filled me up all the way, making me wince and moan at the same time.

”Holy fuuuuck.” I groaned out loud as I felt his full length inside me. His cock filled me up perfectly and I could feel every inch of him brush against my walls as they clung onto him.

”Damn.” Harry cussed under his own breath as he looked down at me.

”It’s so deep.” I choked out as my body was still struggling to get used to having his large cock inside me. I bit the corner of my lip as I looked up into Harry’s green eyes.

I could feel my legs strain and my ankles push down against his shoulders as he held me steady by my hips. He began to slowly move inside me, his eyes glued to my pussy as he watched his cock disappear inside me.

”Your pussy feels so fucking good.” Harry growled loudly as he looked down between my legs, his eyes obsessed with the way my pussy swallowed him up completely. ”I’m going to fucking ruin you!”

Harry began to grind into me with slow but forceful motions, his hips rolling into mine as I laid spread out on the table with my legs up in the air. I too watched as his cock disappeared inside me with every thrust. I could feel the muscles inside my thighs clench and the instinct to push them together was starting to slowly consume me. Harry quickly noticed this as he placed his palms against my inner thighs in order to keep them apart.

”God, it feels so good.” I moaned loudly as my eyes shifted towards Harry’s face. His brows were furrowed, his eyes squinting and his lips stuck between his gritted teeth. My gaze trailed down his neck tattoo and over his shoulders where my feet were dangling in the air as he pushed inside me. Harry had a lean body but his muscles became more apparent as he continued to thrust into me with force.

”Look how good you’re taking it!” Harry moaned as he ran both his hands up and down my legs, his fingers playfully pulling at my garters straps, making them snap against my thigh. ”You’re so wet, I’m fucking drowning in this pussy.” Harry groaned as he rolled his eyes back into his head.

The old wooden table squeaked against the concrete floor as Harry continued to push deep inside me. I could feel my body rock against the table but I was enjoying myself too much to even think about the potential splinters in my ass.

Harry leaned over the table and I swiftly ran my fingers up and down his back, my nails clawing at his skin as he pushed his cock deep into my dripping wet core.

”Open your mouth!” Harry ordered firmly as he reached down and grabbed my with his right hand. He squeezed me tightly between his fingers, forcing my mouth open before I could willingly do it for him.

Suddenly, I was caught off guard as Harry spit roughly into my mouth. He forced two of his fingers inside my mouth and rubbed his spit against my tongue.

”Stick your tongue out.” Harry ordered and I did as I was told, suddenly I felt very submissive under his touch even though we both knew I could be just as feisty and lethal as he was. It was a strange feeling but I was too turned on to analyze it further.

He spit into my mouth again and I playfully wiggled my tongue at him as he traced my lip with his fingertip. He playfully pulled my bottom lip down before he moved his fingertip to my chin, pushing it upwards as a way to silently tell me to close my mouth. I stayed silent with his saliva still inside my mouth as he moved his hand down my neck. His hand came to a stop just above my throat as he ordered me with one simple word to swallow.

I swallowed hard, obeying his every request as he continued to push his cock inside me. I was almost speechless at this point, I knew he said he could get rough but no one had ever spit into my mouth like that and I hate to admit it but it was kinda kinky and I liked it.

Harry didn’t remove his hand from my throat, instead he kept adding pressure to it as he continued to mercilessly thrust into me. The sound of his hips colliding with mine echoed through my ears and I could barely hear my own thoughts as Harry’s heavy panting filled the air.

”Keep going, God, don’t hold anything back.” I whimpered out loud as I looked up into Harry’s green eyes. My hands reached for Harry’s arm, my fingers sliding down his soft skin as he kept his palm on my throat. I gently squeezed his arm between the palm of my hands as I silently urged him to keep his hand around my neck.

”You look so good with my hand around your neck baby.” Harry growled as he realized that I wanted him to keep his hand on my neck. His fingers squeezed a little around my sensitive skin and I could feel myself struggle to get the heavy pants out of my mouth.

”You like it that much huh?” Harry asked teasingly as a soft smile crept across my face.

”Mhmm.” I hummed as I felt him squeeze harder around my neck, restricting my airways and the blood flow to my already malfunctioning brain.

Harry continued to pound into me, his hips roughly colliding with my thighs as he leaned over me, my legs were partially bent over backwards at this point as he hovered me on the table. I could feel the muscles in my thighs strain as my feet kept flailing in the air with every rough thrust.

My snug walls held on tightly to Harry’s cock and I could tell that he was enjoying himself from the many grunts and animalistic groans coming out of his dirty mouth. His lips stayed parted as his eyes focused on me and my facial expression. I could feel his grip around my neck tighten as my pussy clenched around his cock in anticipation. Neither one of us could wait any longer, our movements were rough, sloppy and filled with desire all at the same time.

”Don’t stop! Please don’t stop!” I begged through my restrained breathing as I looked up into Harry’s green eyes. ”I’m so fucking close.” I cussed as loudly as I could while struggling to breathe properly.

”Me too.” Harry growled loudly, his hot breath tickling my face and he hovered me. He held onto me for dear life and for a second it felt like he was gonna break me by the way his hand gripped my throat and his hips collided with my body.

I could feel my pussy clench tighter and tighter around Harry’s thick shaft, every muscle inside my body was clenching as I struggled to hold back my orgasm as long as I possibly could.

”Ohhhhh.” Harry let out a long drawn out growl as I let my fingers rake down his arm. His grip on my neck got even tighter as I scratched at his skin with my nails.

”Come inside me baby.” I encouraged him as I realized that he was just about to come. I closed my eyes as I felt his cock twitch inside me. Harry pounded his full length into me as he got more and more desperate for his orgasm to come. Another long drawn out growl filled the air as he pushed himself deep inside me.

”Yessss.” I moaned out loud as I clawed at his arm. My body began to tremble as I felt the orgasm rip through me. I couldn’t hold it back any longer and neither could Harry as he emptied himself inside me, his thrust continuing as he forcefully pushed his come into me over and over again.

I reached down with one hand to rub my clit in a comforting, grinding manner as the orgasm ripped through me. I could feel my body slowly relax as I continuously rubbed my sensitive nub in small circles. The sparks of electricity traveled through me quickly, numbing the muscles that had previously clenched so hard to hold back the orgasm.

”Fuck, that was so good.” I moaned as I looked down between my legs, I watched as Harry slowly pulled back his cock. I could feel his come drip out of me as he pulled his cock completely out of me. The white liquid slowly dripped down my thighs and onto the concrete floor beneath me and I just watched in silence as I tried to comprehend what had just happened.

”My dad’s gonna kill me if he finds out I’ve been sleeping with the enemy.” I was unaware that I’d said the words out loud until Harry responded to them.

”Are you sure you don’t wanna come work for me Darling, I think we would make a great team.” He grinned as he shifted his gaze from the mess between my legs to my face.

I skeptically shook my head as I snorted out a laughter between my gritted teeth.

”Fuck you."

MASTERLIST

#harry styles #harry styles smut #harry styles kink #harry styles story #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic #my fic

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jaceyneedsabetterusername · 4 years ago

Text

Hayloft (p.1)

Pairing: Arvin Russell x F!Reader

Summary: Your dad brings home his new coworker, Arvin Russell, telling you that he’ll be living with the two of you for a while. While attempting to keep Arvin from seeing the disfunction of your relationship with your father, the two of you grow closer than you thought. (Inspired by “Hayloft” by Mother Mother, though that’ll really only be one chapter later on so I don’t know if it really counts...)

Warnings: Abuse, mentions of drinking, misogyny, reader’s mother is dead

Word Count: 3.2k

A/N: My first slow(er) burn fic! Let me know what you think!

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When your car finally pulled up the old dirt driveway to your family's farm house, the sun was already setting, casting an orange hue over the acres of land that your father had inherited from his father. It was beautiful, really. The sun was behind your old two story home made of wood planks that were covered in chipping white paint. The door’s paint was also chipping, only this time it was old navy blue paint - at least that’s the color it was supposed to be when it was painted who knows how many decades ago - that peeled back to reveal the wood beneath.

Your father’s truck wasn’t in the driveway yet when you pulled up and you sighed in relief because it gave you the opportunity to get dinner started before he got home. You headed straight for the kitchen. The only moment taken for yourself was the moment of silence when you leaned against the counter top and stretched out your back from the long day's work at the diner. The refrigerator was mostly empty and you made a mental note to run to the store after work tomorrow before your father could notice the lack of food. Thankfully, there was still enough scraps to piece something together for tonight between the fridge and the cupboards.

The house was swimming with the delicious scent of herbs, onions, potatoes, and stock as you boiled a stew on the stove when you heard the front door open. “Hi, Daddy! How was work?” You asked over your shoulder before you even heard his steps enter the kitchen, not actually caring but knowing he’d be upset if you didn’t ask.

He came around the corner but you could hear from the moment the door opened that there were the footsteps of more than one person entering your home. With a frown, you turned from the stove and took a few steps so you could see around the wall that blocked your view of the front door but your father and new mystery person stepped around that corner and into the kitchen before you could get that far. You stopped in your tracks, startled by their sudden appearance, and your hand flew to your chest as your eyes widened in surprise. “Sorry!” You chuckled awkwardly, apologizing for your jumpiness, “Didn’t think you’d be comin’ in here.”

It was a man about your age that stood just behind your father, a navy baseball cap twisted in his hands and his footsteps light so as to not knock dirt off onto the floor from his work boots, both welcomed displays of manners that you appreciated, unlike your father who left a trail of chunks of dried mud and grease everywhere he walked. This new boy, though, he was cute. Short curly hair that was messy, either from work or wearing the hat, big expressive brown eyes that reminded you of a puppy in the best possible way, a tight lipped expression that showed he was a little nervous and uncomfortable to be here, they were all a welcome, albeit unexpected, surprise.

"Work was good. This here is Arvin Russel. He'll be staying with us, at least for the night." Your eyes flicked back to the boy you now knew as Arvin when your dad introduced him and your heart skipped a beat at the eye contact.

He nodded his head slightly, a small cordial smile flashing on his face for just a moment, "Pleasure to meet you,..."

"Y/N. It's nice to meet you as well. If you're staying the night, let me add some water to the soup and then I'll go make up the spare bed." You pointed your thumb over your shoulder towards the pot of stew that was nearly done.

"That's very kind of you. Thank you."

Before you could notice him moving, your dad was already beside the fridge and you reached out to try to stop him before he could open it. "Let me get you something! What about you, Arvin? You want a beer or some water?" You scurried to try and beat your dad to the fridge that you knew would earn you a reprimanding that you didn’t deserve.

You were too late though and your dad already swung the door open wide. You stepped back nervously, rubbing the sharp edge of your nails against your thumb. "It's damn near empty." He noted, voice stiff and dissatisfied. He stood, managing to produce the last two beers from the refrigerator before slamming it shut.

You flinched at the loud sound, hearing the few glass jars of preserves and jams clanging against each other inside from the force. Your eyes rolled beneath closed lids at his overdramatic reaction, even though it was one you expected. "I'm gonna hit the market after work tomorrow but I checked that we have enough for dinner tonight and breakfast tomorrow." Your voice was sweet and placating, careful to respond in a way that would keep his temper in check.

"It's that damn job of yours. I told you women shouldn't be working. They belong in the house where you should be. Now look. You went and let the kitchen run out." He passed Arvin a beer, which he reluctantly accepted, watching the way your father pointed his finger at you accusingly. “Ain’t no man gonna want a wife who can’t even keep the kitchen stocked up.”

Your tongue was raw inside from biting down on it so hard in order to keep yourself in line, as he called it. You didn't need a blow out tonight, not with Arvin here. "I manage to work and keep up with the house just fine, Daddy. We just got a little low on groceries but I'll be heading to the market tomorrow to fix it. Don’t you worry." Even you were surprised with how even and sweet your voice came out, that ever present fire of anger towards your father having been fanned into a decent blaze.

He popped the tab on his beer and sighed, dropping the topic for the time being, "Fine. But make sure to pick up some fixin's for that chicken roast you make. Patty is lookin' nice and fat in the coop so why don't you cook her up tomorrow."

You grimaced at the thought. Patty was one of the chickens in your coop out back that had been pretty slow when it came to laying eggs but you’d grown attached to her nonetheless. Ever since you were a young girl, your daddy warned you not to become attached to the animals out back but you never listened. Back then, you’d had your mother to step in and convince him not to kill the animals for whatever reason she could come with and opt for buying meat from the market instead. You hadn’t been able to convince him like that since she’d passed. Everything had been different since she passed.

“I don’t know, Daddy. Patty’s been layin’ a lot of eggs lately and we’ve been gettin’ extra money from sellin’ all those eggs. Why don’t I just pick up a chicken in town tomorrow at the store.” You insisted, walking back over to the stove to stir the stew.

“Don’t go wastin’ money on things we already got! We got some chickens out back. Just cook one of ‘em up tomorrow!” Your father’s voice was hard and stern now, enough to fill the air with tension in Arvin’s presence. You turned slowly, making eye contact with Arvin briefly before quickly avoiding it. You didn’t like the way he stood awkwardly, silently watching the interaction he clearly didn’t think highly of. Your father was already getting worked up and it would only get worse the longer the night went on.

Biting your cheek, you nodded, “Yes, sir. Now why don’t you boys go get cleaned up. Dinner will be ready in just a minute.”

Dinner went relatively well, despite your father’s occasional grumblings about there not being any beer. Once you finished, you stood up and picked up yours and your father’s bowls before noticing Arvin’s was empty as well. “Did you want some more? There’s just enough for one more if you’d like it.” You offered Arvin that last bit of stew but he just shook his head and stood up.

“Oh, no thank you miss. Dinner was delicious though. Let me help with that.” He grabbed his own bowl before your hand could reach it and then took the bowls from your hands as well before setting them down at the sink.

You chased after him, “Thank you but you don’t have to do that! Please, sit. I’ll make your bed up when I’m finished cleaning up dinner.”

“She’s right, son. Kitchen ain’t no place for a man. Why don’t you come with me and I’ll show you the room you’ll be stayin’ in.” You father’s chair screeched against the beat up wooden floor as he stood, beckoning Arvin to him.

Arvin was standing right beside you, his arm only a few inches from yours as he lowered the stack of bowls into the sink. He looked over at you with deep soulful eyes that seemed to look right through your calm facade in a way that made you feel seen like never before. It was highly uncomfortable, almost violating after all these years of hiding away what you felt for the sake of keeping the peace, and you forced a smile, “Please, you’re our guest. It wouldn’t be right to make you do the dishes. You go with him.”

He gave you a drawn out hesitant look but turned away nonetheless and walked towards your dad. “Thank you again for letting me stay here till I get things figured out. It’s mighty kind of you.” Arvin thanked you and your father for your hospitality, shooting you one last glance over his shoulder before following your father down up the stairs towards the spare room.

You made quick work of the dishes, having cleaned most of them as you were cooking earlier anyways and scurried to the closet that held your extra sheets. As you passed the bathroom, you heard the shower running and knew it was your father bathing after his long day of work, like he always did right after dinner. The man was a creature of habit.

With your arms full of neatly folded faded steel blue linens and the thicker burnt sienna colored wool blanket, you made your way towards the guest room Arvin was staying in to find the door wide open and the man looking through his bag that was set on the bed. “Knock knock,” you announced your presence, waiting at the entryway for Arvin to notice you before entering.

He spun around, dropping something that you didn’t see quickly into his bag and pressing it down while flashing you a small polite smile, “Hello, ma’am.”

You walked into the room, raising the linens in your hands, “I brought some sheets so I could make up your bed.” You walked over to the wooden chair and set the top sheet down before making your way back over to the bed, unfolding the bottom sheet as you did, waving it up and down in the air to straighten it out before laying it flat on the bed.

“Oh, you don’t have to do that, miss,” He moved his bag to the ground and jumped to lift the corner of the mattress and tuck the sheet beneath it.

You blushed at his kindness, not used to such help from your father, but shook your head, tucking the sheet beneath the mattress on the opposite side of the bed “If my daddy came in and saw you fixin’ the bed yourself, he’d kill me,” you chuckled to make it sound like a joke but you knew better than that. He wouldn’t actually kill you but you would certainly get some less than kind words thrown your way, maybe even a few beer cans thrown your way depending on how drunk he was.

Arvin shook his head, his hands falling on his hips, “Looks like you do most the housework ‘round here.” What he was insinuating was clear even though his tone didn’t change but you didn’t want to acknowledge it. He didn’t need to concern himself with the difficulties between you and your father.

“So how’d you and my dad meet?” You changed the topic, going to grab the top sheet and unfolding it. You laid it over the bed and tucked your side in, Arvin reaching down to tuck his side in as well in a silent act of defiance against your insistence that he didn’t need to help. It occurred to you suddenly after the question left your lips that you didn’t actually know anything about this boy but, for some reason, you still didn’t feel uneasy around him.

Arvin pulled the top corner of the sheet up to the head of the bed as he answered, “I just started workin’ at the garage with ‘im.”

“You like cars?” You questioned, spreading out the final layer on the bed, the wool blanket.

Arvin shrugged, “Never been really into ‘em but I can fix ‘em alright enough. Just needed the work and happened to see the wanted sign when I was passin’ through town.”

Your brow raised in curiosity, “You were just passin’ through and stopped in this old town cause of a help wanted sign?” The little town you lived in wasn’t terrible but it was far from a destination that people really moved to for work unless you a doctor desperate for a place to practice or something like that. “You must really be desperate,” you joked but immediately felt a slight pang of regret when a shred of truth could be seen in his eyes.

“Just tryna figure out where I’m goin’ ‘n what I wanna do. Figure I’ll find somewhere I like eventually.” Arvin picked up his bag and set it off to the side where it was a little more out of the way.

You stared at the man standing before you, taking every bit of him from the grease stains on his white t-shirt to his scuffed up brown work boots to his messy hair, dirty from dried sweat. It wasn’t until you locked eyes with him that you realized that you’d been staring in a settled yet weirdly comfortable silence. You stood up straight and smiled to diffuse the awkwardness you’d unintentionally fostered, “You’re more than welcome to take a shower. My daddy should be finished any second. I’ll set some extra towels in there for you.”

“That’s very kind of you. Thank you.” He nodded in appreciation but offered no further conversation. You could tell from the moment of silence that it was time for you to make your exit.

“Well, uh, I better head to bed. You need anything before I go?” You asked, backing towards the door and swinging slightly with it once your hand hit the old bronze knob.

Arvin shook his head, “No, thank you. ‘M all set.”

“Alrighty, then. You have a good night.” You chewed your lip as you opened the door to make your exit.

“G’night, miss Y/N.”

Butterflies flew wildly in your belly as you walked to your bedroom. It had been a long while since you’d seen somebody worth looking twice at in this old town but now a mysterious handsome man rolls into town and stays with you. In your house. It probably wasn’t the safest of situations but Arvin genuinely looked like a nice man. From your very brief interactions with him, you couldn’t really imagine him trying to hurt you or your father for no reason. Even if he did, you knew where your daddy kept his shotgun and you had no problem defending yourself. But like I said, you had an unearned sense of peace with Arvin that you hoped wasn’t a misjudgement.

“What’re you smilin’ ‘bout?” Your father’s gruff but thankfully not entirely drunk voice made you stop in your tracks and turn towards his room with a suppressed groan. He stood in the doorway of his bedroom in nothing but an undershirt and long johns with his suspenders hanging loosely at his sides.

You shook the smile off your face. “Just thought of somethin’ funny that happened at work,'' you lied. “You need somethin’?”

“I watched you come out o’ that boy’s room with a big ol’ grin on your face. Better not let me catch you ‘n him. Ain’t no daughter o’ mine gonna be whorin’ around with some boy blowin’ through town, y’hear?” He threatened, his hands reaching down to pull up his worn out long johns.

Your blood boiled at the accusation and despite your best efforts to keep peace while Arvin was here, you spat words with venom, “I wasn’t doin’ nothin’ with Arvin. God forbid I have a damn smile on my face.” Your voice was low enough so that you hoped your guest hadn’t heard your outburst but when your father’s face darkened and he began taking slow, heavy steps towards you, you weren’t sure if your charade of normalcy would last much longer.

Your father hovered over you, exaggerating the size difference between the two of you, “I put a roof over your head. I put food on the table. You play make believe with that little diner job but I'm the head of this house. I'm your father. You watch that fuckin’ tone with me girl."

Your jaw was clenched tightly, matching your fists, as you glared up at him with indignantly furious eyes. Father your ass. He once had been your father, an imperfect but loving man who used to try. Now he was merely a selfish broken sperm donor. He inherited this house from his father, didn’t pay a darn cent, and you couldn't remember the last time he pitched in a dime for anything but alcohol and the occasional dinner he made when he was in a good mood. He did do that- have these strange out of character nights where he pretended to be kind and loving. They were far and few between though and, while you enjoyed the change of pace, it felt like walking on eggshells in some fantasy world.

A heavy silence settled between the two of you that crackled with a tension that could snap at any moment and turn into a full blown fight. Your eyes were narrowed on his as you refused to let him think he intimidated you anymore. Nevertheless, you turned on your heel, nails digging into your palm, and walked down the hall towards your room, leaving him alone.

“He wouldn’t want you anyways, fuckin’ attitude like that.” Your father grumbled to your back, hoping for one last reaction out of you that you refused to give.

It took all the control in the world to not slam the door in his face but you knew there was no way it would escape Arvin’s attention. You’d have to resort to the therapy of muffling your furious tear-soaked screams into your pillow until you finally fell asleep, like you did many nights.

#arvin russel imagine #arvin russell x reader #Arvin Russell #arvin x reader #arvin russell x you #arvin russel x you #arvin russel x reader #tom holland #tom holland one shot #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #The Devil All The Time #tdatt #tdatt imagine #tdatt fics

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acourtofsnakes · 4 years ago

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Cabur - Rogue, Chapter 6| The Mandalorian x Force Sensitive! Reader (f)

Summary: A few weeks have passed and after landing on a small planet to collect a bounty, you and Mando decide to take a little trip to the market to stock up on some things. Nothing will come up here.. right?

Warnings: Angsty angsty annnnngst, (Sorry, I don’t mean to be so horrible to dear reader), Swearing (mild), brief mentions of death, touching on the same things as chapter 4 but not as heavy but I’ll still add the trigger warnings ♥︎ These chapters will get lighter, I promise,

Not beta read, I wanted to get this one out because I love it so apologies for any mistakes, I’ll be going in to edit a little later

Trigger warnings: Anxiety, horrible thoughts/insults, triggering comments maybe, thoughts of not being able to cope.

Words: About 6210

AN: Okay, okay, so, I was listening to my Rogue playlist on Spotify (link coming soon) and a certain song came on that just fuelled this chapter. SO, I highly recommend listening to Leave A Light On by Tom Walker if you want the vibes for this chapter. Just… honestly, please do it (I may have had tears)

As always, credit to whoever owns the gif. I usually find them on Google or Pinterest, so message me if it’s yours ♥︎

Rogue Taglist: @snipskixandbeskar @weirdowithnobeardo @the-bottom-of-the-abyss

Mando’a translation: Cabur - Protector or Guardian

A few weeks had passed since that night you saved the Mandalorian’s life, since he threw away the bounty puck to keep you safe.

You’d stayed that night grounded, and then when Mando was able to get up in the morning, he flew you off of that dump of a planet.

He didn’t ask anymore but how you had managed to save him. Whether he knew you were lying or not, he hadn’t pushed it, choosing instead to respect you. Kind of like how you respected him and his Creed.

You’d fallen into a sort of routine around the Razor Crest, without either of you realising it. Mando would fly the ship, and you could be found seeing to Grogu and Duru, or tidying things up. Sometimes you would clean the weapons in the cabinet, making sure they stayed in pristine condition.

Now and then, Mando would head out to get a bounty and when he got back, he would let you help patch him up. You never saw his bare skin, respected that. You would look away or close your eyes, pointing out the best things to use or how to administer them. The man was good at first aid, but his answer to everything was to shove the cauteriser on it. So, when you had been passing through some shops one day, you had stocked up on medical supplies, even found a shop selling the same herbs and plants that your mother had taught you about.

You’d even been on a few of the hunts with him.

Of course, you had argued first. When you’d asked him about it one day on the way out of Nevarro, Mando had simply said no.

Which had immediately riled you. You were not a girl who liked that word. You despised that word.

Which is how you’d spent the whole night and next two days bickering, over the question of your safety. When he lost that front, (“Seriously, Mando? I’m a fugitive. And after all, I’ve got a big, strong Mandalorian to protect me”) the Mandalorian had moved on to your lack of thinking before throwing yourself into the firefight.

He lost that one too.

(“Says the man who stole back a child surrounded by Stormtroopers.”

“You’re not coming. End of.”

“Did you want me to bring your pulse rifle over?”

“Are you even listening to me?”

“You’re right. Pulse rifle and an extra blaster.”

“I hate you, you know that?”

“Sure you do, Lori. I’ll see you at the ramp.”)

That nickname had slipped out by accident, and he’d regarded you, for a long time. He’d gone still, and you almost swore you heard a hitch of breath through his helmet and then he just nodded and murmured softly, “See you down there.”

There had been a lot of little moments like that but they were so fleeting that you were almost convinced you’d imagined it. You were imagining a lot of things lately.

Sometimes, when you were walking through forests or towns, you thought you spotted something lingering at the edges of your vision.

A tall figure, cloaked in a hood that was embroidered in either silver or gold, depending on the light.

You’d even asked Mando about it a few times, but he hadn’t seen anything so you simply put it down to a trick of the light or sleeplessness, nightmares still plaguing you now and then.

Regardless of the nightmares and your vision playing tricks on you, you were doing… okay. You were warm, safe, had a comfy place to sleep. You had things to keep you busy, things that weren’t hunting for food or a good spot to hunker down in for the night.

Duru was happy too, having become fast friends with Grogu and the two of them ran rings around you and the Mandalorian. Well, mainly Mando, which you found hilarious because he was such an exasperated dad with them both.

It was a rare reprieve from your life, letting you slow down and… live. Rather than survive.

“I do not talk in my sleep.”

“Yes, you do!! Sometimes, I think you’re awake but you’re just having a fully-fledged conversation with your blanket.”

“Oh, shut up. I know I don’t talk in my sleep, tin can. You were probably just having dreams about me again.” You examined the fruit in front of you, then handed over a few credits to the kind vendor, slipping the fruit in your bag.

The sound of fabric hitting the floor sounded from behind you, and you turned to see that the Mandalorian had dropped the bag you’d made him carry. “I do NOT have dreams about you!” He stooped to pick up the bag, then rose to see you standing with your hands on your hips, eyebrow raised and that damn smirk on your lips.

“Mmhm, is that why you always have to pull something over your lap when I wake you up?”

He stared at you, and you had the very correct feeling that he was looking at you in mild shock, too caught out to come up with his usual cocky response. “I -you.. That’s completely..”

You burst out laughing, rolling your eyes at him and then dropping him a wink, “Come get me when you’ve thought of a response, Lori.” You turned and carried on walking through the market.

The two of you had stopped off on a nearby trading planet, to gather supplies. Mando had recently secured a bounty with your help and it had paid well, giving you enough extra credits to stock up and treat yourselves. Grogu was already half-way through a packet of blue macarons, which would no doubt come back to bite you both later when he was pelting through the ship whilst you tried to catch him. And it would be your fault because you had taken one look at those big ears and eyes, determined not to break but when the little womp rat had cooed at you… Of course, he had gotten his own way.

It felt good, to wander a market and not be scrounging for things under the cover of a hooded cloak. You still had one on, you couldn’t bear to part with this item, the most beautiful piece of clothing you had ever had. You just didn’t have the hood up disguising you.

A gift, from Mando.

The first time you went out with him after the puck was destroyed, Mandalorian had insisted you wear yours. However, it had been covered in his blood from his injury, and you couldn’t get it out, no matter how hard you had tried. It hadn’t bothered you that much, though you were.. not sad as such, but it felt a little strange because it had been one of your few possessions for so long. But, maybe it was a symbol. That things had changed, and that was in the past.

A couple of days later, you had just walked into the cockpit when you noticed there was a package on your seat. When you picked it up, it was squishy, bound in a sort of thick papery material and tied with a length of string.

You’d glanced at the Mandalorian, who was watching you, the picture of calm but his hands had been fiddling with something on his belt, a shockingly nervous gesture you weren’t used to.

That simple, uncertain gesture had risen your pulse and you unwrapped the package, trying not to show how your hands were shaking at the first gift you’d received since being a child.

A gift from the Mandalorian.

Pulling away the paper had revealed a mass of fabric, a blue so deep it was almost the same colour as the night sky. You’d lifted it out and it had unfolded and revealed itself to be a new cloak. The material was soft, thick enough to keep out a biting chill. You’d made a noise of awe and surprise, but had immediately fallen in love with it, pulling it on. It fell to about the middle of your calves and secured at the base of your neck with a small silver clasp.

The inside was lined with a thin layer of heat-reflective material, and when you’d run a hand over it, Mando had finally broken his silence, “I noticed you were always cold, even if you had layers on so I.. wanted to make sure you weren’t cold anymore..”

You swore you could almost feel the heat creeping up his neck, and that softened you. He was nervous about giving you this cloak, like he didn’t know how you would take it.

You had smiled at him, a soft smile that made your eyes glitter like the surrounding stars and placed a hand on his knee lightly, “Thank you, Lori. I adore it, I truly do.” Then you’d spent the next minutes admiring it, putting the hood up and realising it shielded your face in shadow.

So, naturally, you had moved around the cockpit and upper level like a phantom, pretending to be a shadow in the night.

You’d even earned yourself a laugh from the great wall of beskar that was fast becoming your friend. It was only a soft chuckle, just picked up by the vocoder, but all the same, it had lit something within you.

It still echoed in your ears now.

A few moments later, the Mandalorian was back at your side, Grogu in his little bag and Duru walking next to him. “The point still stands. I thought I might finally get some silence at night, but you talk just as much.” His raspy voice had a softened edge, one of teasing and you might even have heard the hints of a smile playing at his lips.

You turned to look at him over your shoulder, “You love it when I talk. I have to talk to you, otherwise I’d be worried you had turned to stone. You’re so quiet sometimes.” You stopped at a stall, admiring the fabrics here – not to buy, just to look at the different things in a place you had never seen before.

The Mandalorian made a soft noise, “No, sweetheart, that’s just called quiet time. You might want to try it sometime.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but something behind Mando caught your eye. Rising up on tiptoe, you peered over his shoulder… but there was nothing there. Weird. You could have sworn you saw someone wearing a hood just… watching you.

You shrugged, assuming you had imagined it like before and then looked back to the man before you, “I can be quiet. I just choose to fill your hours with my wonderful voice.” You flashed him a grin, eyes dancing.

A voice cut across before Mando could talk to you, “You.” It was a snarl, tinged with recognition that wasn’t exactly the most positive. It was bitter, aggressive and almost… pained.

Mando turned quickly, his hand flying toward the blaster on his hip, instinct overriding him. His movement allowed you to see who had just interrupted the conversation.

A lady stood there, with curly magenta hair twisted up into a braid. She had tattoos along her neck, and her eyes were a shocking green. She was breathing quickly, staring at you with such disdain that it made your neck prickle.

How did you know this woman? You’d never been to this planet before.

You blinked, holding up your hands as a surrender gesture, “Uh… I’m sorry but I don’t know you. I think you must have me confused with someone else…”

The lady shook her head fiercely, making the whisps of her hair that had escaped bounce wildly. “No. I do not have you confused. I would know you anywhere.” Her eyes were wild with fury, pinning you to the ground with just a stare.

“I’m sorry, but I really don’t know who you are. Maybe you could tell me your name?” You extended a hand, trying to diffuse this situation and help the woman understand that you aren’t who she thinks.

She flinched back from your reach, even though she was still a good few feet away. “How dare you. You don’t even know who I am?” She made a noise of disgust, looking you up and down in such a way that you were surprised the skin didn’t flay from your bones, “Typical. I don’t know why I’m surprised. She was probably just another tool to you, wasn’t she? Another person to use and discard like trash.”

You blinked, your hands dropping to your sides. Your skin began to tighten, your blood turning a little frosty. You looked to the side, seeing a few people start to stop and watch this altercation happen.

The Mandalorian seemed to pick up on this at the same time as you. He turned more toward the lady, his hand still within reach of his blaster, “Why don’t we take this somewhere more private?”

The woman barely even looked at him, “Don’t get involved in this, Mandalorian. You’re just as bad as she is. At least to do what you do, you have to have respect and creed. You have morals, no matter how murky they are.” She jabbed a finger at you, “Unlike this savage monster.”

Your breathing immediately shallowed, getting a little unsteady as she spat out that word, that hateful word that followed you around and hounded at your feet. “I’m sorry? For whatever I’ve done, I’m sorry if it’s hurt you. I didn’t mean it, truly-”

She laughed, a cold and cruel laugh, but her eyes were slowly turning glassy with tears. She took a few steps closer, “You don’t even remember her name, do you? Shall I remind you? Help you distinguish her from your kill list?”

You didn’t fail to notice the way the Mandalorian’s stance shifted. His body tightened and he stood closer, shielding you slightly with one of those ridiculously broad shoulders. He was going on the defensive, feeling the situation start to spiral.

The woman barely spared him another glance, “3 years ago, you showed up on Trask. You stumbled around the market for a few days, bleeding from a wound in your leg and you passed out.”

Realisation was beginning to filter through you. It sparked in your mind and you remembered a dark street and rain, your leg heavy and cumbersome beneath you. It had burned like fire and when you went down, you couldn’t get back up again.

The woman was still talking, “Someone picked you up, took you to their home. My sister. She was there for work, and saw you lying in the street, like some kind of dumped animal. She nursed you back to health, gave you somewhere to stay.” She could see it as it began back to you, “You took her aid, her comfort and then, there was a warning put out in the village. There had been a high-risk fugitive spotted in the village. Anyone with information was to come forward immediately.”

Your hands curled into fists, your chest shuddering as guilt and darkness began to swirl within you, “Stop.”

She chose not to hear your quiet plea, “I was supposed to meet her. But she sent me a comms message. She would meet me, but she would have someone else with her. Someone who she couldn’t tell me over a comms message. Someone in trouble. People said this girl was dangerous, to be handed over with no hesitation but she didn’t see that. No, she said this girl was terrified, that she just wanted to live.” She tilted her head, walking closer again, “But the next day, this special little girl was gone. And then the Imperials came.” Her voice shook, her expression unreadable.

You shook your head mutely, not wanting to hear this, memories flooding your brain.

“Someone had tipped them off that my sister was harbouring a fugitive. They tore through her home, destroyed it and dragged her in for questioning. They demanded she tell them, beat her when she denied it. She never gave it up.”

The woman was right in front of the Mandalorian now, who extended his arm out, ‘That’s close enough.”

Nausea roiled your stomach, and you weren’t sure if you were going to pass out or throw up. There were too many eyes on you, too many people watching as this woman revealed you bit by bit.

The woman lowered her voice, deadly soft and it shook, but carried in the silent square, “My sister was murdered because of you. Because of what you are.”

Mando froze, his head tilting back to look at you slightly. You still hadn’t told him.

She wasn’t done. “They told me a few weeks ago that you’d been captured by a Mandalorian. I wept with relief that day, because I knew the Mandalorian wouldn’t fail. You’d be taken to whoever wanted you, and you would finally repent for every single sin you’ve ever committed. Your life is littered with them. My sister, my beloved sister is dead because of you. A killer. A beast. Your hands are stained red, girl, and they will always be stained red. I admit, I’m disappointed that you slithered into his head with your poison too but you will kill him too and then… You deserve everything that will ever come to you. And more.” The woman was breathing almost as quickly as you, her eyes glinting in sick delight at the pain she was causing you.

My sister is dead because of you.

A beast.

Her words mingled with that seductively dark voice in your mind and you gasped for a breath, knives feeling like they were digging into your lungs. Your eyes darted around, noted the strangers looking at you with horror and that shared disgust. A father pushed his daughter behind his legs as he caught your stare, hissing at you.

A flinch ran down your body and without a second thought, you turned tail and bolted. The sunlight was too bright, obscuring your vision harshly and making you stumble every now and then.

You were distantly aware of a male’s shout, then a harsh thumb and the Mandalorian’s voice snarling, “Stay down.” He stopped to check your pursuer was down and then he was running after you. “Hey, wait.”

You ignored him, boots pounding into the dust as you ran through the market, needing to get out of this place, get away from her and the memories. Where the hell was the ship? It was right here a minute ago. I haven’t gone the wrong way. This is the way we came.

You could still hear Mando behind you, knew he was hot on your heels. “Drop it, Mando.” You led him around people and stalls, knowing if wanted to be in front of you, he would be. He was letting you flee, stopping anyone coming after you.

Dodging around a crate of fruit, you almost sobbed. There it was, the Crest, gleaming in the sunlight. You slowed down as you reached it, stopping a little way away to let the ramp come down, let you inside to sanctuary.

Nothing happened.

Bastard.

You took a breath, trying to get past the tightness in your lungs, “Let me in.”

“No. Not until you tell me what’s going on.” His voice was firm, arrogant, in a way like he knew best and you’d listen to him.

~“A killer. A beast. Your hands are stained red.”~

Your hands curled into fists at your sides, staring at the Crest, at where the ramp was tucked in tight. Your heart was pounding, not from the run, but from the realisation that no matter where you went, there would always be someone you had touched with that curse. “No. I’m not telling you anything. I don’t owe you anything.”

He laughed behind you, but it was a cool laugh, nothing humorous in it, “I’m not saying you owe me anything, princess. But some woman just cornered you in the street and spat abuse at you. I thought I would be prying you off of her, not chasing after you.”

A wolf. No. A beast.

You spun round, eyebrow raised, “Because I’m some wild animal that would rather fight than talk my way out of a situation?”

If he had no helmet, you would have seen him blink, “No, I’m not saying that. But, well. You have to admit it, don’t you?”

Something was beginning to prickle up the back of your neck, his words threatening to cut a little close, “Admit what?” Venom laced your tone and you tensed, as if bracing for a punch.

The Mandalorian walked closer, oozing confidence like he somehow knew you better than you knew yourself, “You don’t really think, do you? You never calculate the risks of a fight. You just jump straight in with no regard for your own safety. I mean, when I came for you on Sorgan, anyone smart would have seen a Mandalorian and run.” He wasn’t saying it in an arrogant way, he was saying it as fact. And he was right. A Mandalorian appeared on the street and you turned around and crossed to the other side. You didn’t engage him a fight and flirt with him.

A cold laugh rocked though you and you tilted your head, “Anyone smart? So you’re calling me stupid now? Is that it? Beast or stupid?” You took a few steps closer to him, ignoring the villagers milling around that had started to look, having heard the fight in the centre of the market. “Don’t you dare tell me I don’t calculate risks. You think I’ve had time to calculate risks in my life? I don’t have time to sit with my little notepad in my ship and jot down the pro’s and con’s of engaging in battle. I didn’t have the luxury of being trained like you.”

Bitter astonishment filled the Mandalorian’s voice, his own body going rigid, “The luxury of training?! You think I chose to become a Mandalorian? That I woke up one morning and skipped along to Mandalorian school?” His voice rose, the rough rasp turning to stone with every word.

You observed him with a steely gaze, something in you needing to push him away, to protect yourself before he got too close. So, you aimed for what you knew would work, his Creed. Your eyebrows rose, looking him up and down as you leaned your weight on one leg, “You’re telling me you weren’t born with that thing already stuck on your head?” Spiteful sarcasm dripped from your voice and you pointed up at his helmet.

The Mandalorian let out a snarl that no doubt usually sent normal people running. He stalked toward you with predatory grace, a hunter toward his prey. “Don’t you dare.” Like he read in your eyes where you were going with this.

Ugly triumph filtered though you as you stood your ground, not afraid of him, “It’s all the same with you Mandalorians, isn’t it. You have all your training, don your shiny armour and suddenly you’re better than anyone. That helmet goes on, you don’t have to face the consequences of what you’ve done. No one knows who you are, so you don’t need to take the blame.” These words were spiteful, beyond cruel and you hated yourself more and more for each one, but he was starting to get into the cracks, starting to see you. You couldn’t see him die.

Mando was right in front of you now, towering above you with all his broad-shouldered posture, frustration roiling off of him in waves. “You think I don’t feel remorse for what I’ve done?” His voice was so low, barely leashed.

You nearly purred, tasting the promise of a fight, even if it did twist a knife into your heart. “I’ve never seen it.” You tilted your head back to look up at him, letting every ounce of spoilt, cruel brattiness melt into your expression.

A soft growl rumbled through the helmet, so muted you barely heard it in the noises of the market behind him.

Yes. Yes.

And then he relaxed, his shoulders eased and his hands uncurled.

What? No – Disappointment, maybe even shock registered on your expression. You’d been sure, so sure that aiming for his beloved Creed would get him to fight you. Why hadn’t it worked?

Mando shook his head, the sunlight bouncing off of the shiny metal, “No. I’m not doing this with you. You can’t push me away, no matter how hard you try. You don’t mean anything that you just said, I can see it in your eyes.” He pressed a button on his vambrace, and the ramp opened behind you.

He saw you.

That dark beast was starting to awaken, its ears pricking up. You needed to get out of here, away from him, away from this, now. You just shook your head, turning around and walking up the ramp, watching Duru as she ran ahead of you.

Footsteps sounded from behind you as the Mandalorian followed you. He took Grogu from his little pouch, popping him on a cargo crate and Duru immediately jumped up next to him. “Don’t walk away from me. I’m trying to help you, but you keep shutting me out. Why did that woman say those things about you?” His gloved hand enveloped your wrist, his grip not tight or authoritative, but it began to break something in you.

“Let me go, Mando. I mean it.” You let ice creep into your tone, trying to disguise the cracking inside you, the darkness that was beginning to stir and whisper.

And the damn tin can saw it all. Your back was to him, but he still fucking knew, “Please… You know I would never judge you for it, for whatever you did to make her say that.”

Excuse me?

Anger flared through you now, igniting into a blaze and you snarled, “Whatever I did?!” You didn’t give him time to respond, not before you swung around, using his grip on your wrist for leverage. You had spent enough time around him now to become familiar with the plates of his armour, so you knew you aimed correctly when your fist connected with the side of his ribs between the front and back plates.

He grunted, jolting a little but he still didn’t let go. “Hey, I didn’t mean it like that. I only meant-” His voice had softened and, in your rage and hurt, you mistook the pleading tone for a condescending one.

Before he could finish, you punched him again, harder, “Don’t. Don’t try to start spewing excuses at me. I knew perfectly well what you meant. You thought that she had been hurt by me. That I killed her sister with my own hands. Probably slit her throat and bathed in her blood.”

“No, no, I didn’t. If you would just listen to me and stop shouting, please-“

Your foot connected with his shin, making him stumble backwards. You followed after him, “You didn’t even stop to think that maybe, for once, I didn’t actually do anything. But no. Like always, you looked at me and saw the worst. You assumed that I was a monster.” You chopped down at his inner elbow this time, causing him to let go of you in reflex.

Mando tilted his head, his voice coming out sharper this time, “I assumed?” He laughed, the bastard laughed, “What else am I supposed to do, sweetheart? You’ve been on this ship for nearly a month now and I still don’t know anything about you. So yes, I was wrong for assuming, but can you blame me?”

Your eyes flashed and you were on him again, “So it’s my fault that you thought I was a monster? You’d met me for all of two seconds on Sorgan and started whispering in my ear like honey, that death followed me wherever I went. There was a bounty over my head and that’s all you saw.”

Mando went still, his shoulders tightened, and his voice came out lower, “You’re still bringing that up? I told you that you weren’t my bounty anymore.”

Before you could answer him, that velvety voice inside your head started to whisper in your ear, “Oh no, oh my sweet darling. He sees you. The real you. He knows you’re a monster.”

You shook your head sharply, lifted your eyes back to the Mandalorian’s stupid face. Helmet. Visor. Whatever. “I’m not your bounty but you believed that woman. So say it.”

His confusion was palpable, “Say what?”

You took a step forward and your chest butted up against his, “Say it! Say that I’m a monster. A murderer. I kill everything I come near.” You laughed, coldly, the words coming out with your voice but in your head, they were being repeated in that cruel, silken whisper. “You regret it, don’t you? Throwing away my puck. You wish you’d kept it, then you could get rid of me, be free of what I’ve done, why I’m being hunted.” Those steel bands were still wrapped round you, crushing you, swallowing you whole again.

Something broke in him, his composure as the anger rose again and he leaned down to you, “Stop.” The command was a growl and he lifted a finger, pointing at you, “You’re a fucking hypocrite.”

Yes. Yes, fight back, fight me. Tell me what I know I am.

You raised your eyebrows, smirking at his finger and then back up at him but your expression was bitter, “Am I? Why’s that, Mando?” You tilted your head and practically purred, “Tell me.”

The tension in the room was tight, the air almost crackling around you with this outburst of emotion, the threads of your entwined lives pulling taut.

The light bounced off of the plates on his shoulders, betraying his slightly ragged breathing, “You just screamed at me for assuming the worst about you, yet you did just that to me. How can I want to be free of you, when I don’t even know who you are.” He lifted his hands to your shoulders, to try and calm you down, to push you away maybe.

The smirk began to slip from your face, “Does it matter who I am?”

His grip tightened, “Of course it does. Because you’re not a bad person. Let me help you, please. Just tell me something. Anything.” His voice turned pleading, and he lifted a hand from your shoulder, like he was going to cup your cheek.

You’re not a bad person.

Fire blazed within you again, protective and destructive. This was too close. He was getting too close. You had to stop it, now. You had to get away.

You reached up, grabbing his wrist and using the element of surprise to slam him against the wall behind him, pinning his wrist there and then your blade was at his neck, dull light glinting off of it, “Back off. You can’t help me. I’m not some broken doll to add to your ragtag collection.” Your own breathing was ragged, coming in sharp pants as the room started to spin.

The Mandalorian flinched, like you’d hit a nerve and his free hand moved. Bingo.

Yes, you thought, almost begged, Punch me. Fight me, please.

But he didn’t. He just curled his fingers around your wrist and pushed you away, dislodging your knife and knocking you back a few steps. Like you were weak.

You couldn’t do this, he was starting to slip through the cracks that were forming in you. He was looking at you, seeing you. He always had, from the moment you were nothing but hunter and prey, he knew exactly how to get through your intricately woven net of silver-tongued quips and cocky arrogance.

No.

Your voice cracked, echoes of the dark beast’s laughter in your ears “No! Stop pushing me away, stop taking it. Fight me!!” You surged for him again, your hands curling into fists, slamming against the beskar plates again and again.

You didn’t care that it hurt, that it made pain explode across your knuckles.

You liked it, you liked the pain. Deserved that and so much more.

And the Mandalorian… just stood there. He shook his head, just slightly, “No.” He stood there as you hammered your fists against his chest, even when you started to kick him. Just watched as your eyes became glassier, your punches harder but less accurate.

Why wasn’t he fighting you?

Your hazy mind began to overwork, searching for something, anything to provoke him, “Why? You don’t want to fight a girl? Too proud are you?” You slammed your knee into his, pulled at the armour plates, honed your pain and fury into him but he just absorbed it. “You’re as weak as I am, you’re running too. You’re the hypocrite, Mandalorian, not me.” Your words were stilted, made no sense as you spat out words as cruel as you could, just needing to provoke him.

Nothing did. Nothing. There was no noise in the cargo hold but the sounds of the people outside, beeping, the dull thud of your fists, your spiteful words and your own ragged breathing.

And the whispering in your head that had turned into a full-on symphony of bitter taunts and sniping truths. It rose with memories, flashes of your dead parents, the battered bodies of those that had tried to help you, people who had been caught in the cross-hairs of your life. Innocent people that had turned into nothing more than collateral damage.

Blood had started to smear on the beskar, your knuckles splitting open with the repeated impact. You could hear Duru meowing, Grogu gurgling in worry but you didn’t care.

The beast and its army rose, tasting the scent of blood and bringing you visions of the future, of the Mandalorian, dead on the ground. The blood from your fists turned into his own, painting the ground red. Duru, fur soaked in scarlet and Grogu, his tiny little body broken on the floor in a pool.

And above them, you stood, soaked in the blood of these three. Relishing in the pain and torture that you had caused. You could taste their blood.

The room began to spin further, the whispering detonated into a roar and it unleashed a heavy roiling cloud within you. It choked you, squeezed fists around your lungs, clouded your eyes and snuck into your head. It whispered to you, such cruel taunts, sucking out the deepest, most vile thoughts you had about yourself and spat them back out, combined with these visions of the future. It leeched the energy out of you and with a choked sob, your knees gave way.

Duru let out a yowl of concern, springing off of the cargo box.

I can’t do this anymore. I can’t be confident, or strong. I can’t be brave and cocky, I can’t keep throwing myself into every fight, I can’t run anymore. I can’t do this. I can’t-

And then a pair arms caught you.

Mando caught you. He didn’t haul you up against him. He didn’t try and pull you up.

No, he sunk to the floor with you, supporting your weight in his own body, leaning against the wall and letting you collapse against him.

You froze, your body stiffened as he did. This… people didn’t touch you like this. They didn’t put their arms around you unless they were trying to drag you somewhere.

You hadn’t been hugged since you were a child, and yet here you were. The Mandalorian was holding you, but loosely.

Waiting, for your consent. For you to be okay with this.

And as his gloved hand brushed your back, such a tender warmth broke through you, caressed your pain and you couldn’t resist. You sunk into him, the last saps of energy leaving you as tears flooded your cheeks. The armour was hard, digging into you a little bit, but the feeling of just being held was more than enough.

He wrapped his arms around you, coaxing you against his chest. His legs were either side of you, one stretched out on the floor and the other resting up to support your back. Distantly, you were aware of four clawed feet padding over your lap, Duru settling into the space between you and Mando’s arm.

The armour disguised the frantic beating of his heart, your tears and shaking of your body held the trembling of his own hands, but he didn’t mention it. Didn’t mention the fact that this was the first time he had held someone like this that wasn’t the kid… since he was a child himself. He was just as starved of touch as you, even more so because he had no skin-to-skin contact either. He could feel your warmth through the fabric of his clothes that weren’t covered, could feel the weight of you leaning into him.

He didn’t speak, just held you in the dimness of the cargo hold, keeping you together as you fell apart, kept the promise of death away, just as you had done for him.

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#the mandalorian x force sensitive! reader #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #din djarin x force sensitive! reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #reader insert #star wars #the mandalorian #pedro pascal #grogu

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jiminrings · 4 years ago

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hellooo can i request a drabble of uni!au art major tae and biochem major yn? also part one of the would you series is AMAZINGGG seriously i cant wait to read more!! <3

rich kid kim

pairing: taehyung x y/n

wordcount: 5k

glimpse: tae’s cold and probably needs a friend more than he needs a model, y/n feels this nEED to take care of him, a term of enderment then a dash of emotional constipation and a sprinkle of jealousy :D

notes: thank you for the request babes!! writing this made my heart melt and aND!!! thank you omg i’m glad you like would you :((

if you squint or if you’ve read insufferable, this is most probably taehyung and his y/n!!!

taehyung is personally more than willing to pay himself out of this project

oKAY LISTEN

he’s not the proudest knowing that he comes from a rich family and he’s the only kid and he’s never really struggled for much

everything was just given to him without any hesitations whatsoever

and yeah he admits that he can nEVER admit that his pampered and luxurious lifestyle since birth has shaped him to be this way and it’s hard to unlearn these types of things

things were too easy for him and thAt’s what made it hard

tae is the farthest thing from an outcast..,.,.,.,

.,.,. but that’s him in his usual rich boi bubble of elites wherever he goes because he’s surrounded by people like him

hoseok and jimin have got to be his closest friends but of course they pursued business degrees and everyone must’ve probably saw that coming

nobody, however, expected the kim taehyung to pursue a degree based rootly on passion and even major in it

yeah that’s right what are yOU looking at???

he’s an art student and yeah he’s taking this seriously ://

do yOU have a problem with that?? do you?? no what did you say?? step the fuck up ky-

spoiler alert: people do have a problem with that

taehyung could tell that his parents did a complete 180 when they learned through jimin’s noisy-ass mouth (not even through their own son) that he’s gonna be getting an art degree

his dad’s the one who’s most especially disappointed at him because well he’s the only child and uhhhh.,.,.,, so who’s gonna inherit the company now.,.,,,

tae normally feels selfish and this time, he felt like he was being rational rather than being selfish!! this is what he passionately wants!! pls god can i be selfish oNE more time

eventually his parents had no choice because as their son explained,, having an art degree won’t keep him away from the family business at all and he could even expand it!! he doesn’t need a degree!!!

lmao he’s been putting the money he gets on the stock market ever since he was ten years old

and they had to accept it eventually because this is what HE wants and if this is the only thing that he wants... then might as well help him through it, right??

now this is another dilemma

taehyung’s applied at a regular university in which everyone’s blended together and no one really cares about who’s who

it’s not exclusive to people like him.

he submitted his requirements and his portfolios by himself!!

and he got accepted!!

he’s nOT SURE if it’s purely because of his skills and himself and not his parents’ money nor influence

whatever it is, he doesn’t want to know because if it ends up being the answer he doesn’t want?? lol he’d crawl into a hole and mope for a week and would be doomed to wear three-piece suits for the rest of his life

so anyways

yeah..,, this is one of the handful of times that taehyung is completely willing to pay himself out

this project was supposed to be easy enough as what the professor said but uH he’d like to passive-aggressively decline pls and thank you

their final project was to make a portrait

right?? easy!!

a portrait of sOMEONE IN CAMPUS,,, regardless if you know them or not

(( well of course you’d get to know them by the end because yea they’re required to show proof that they indeed met and the model did agree to be painted ))

and by the end of the project, it’s either they keep it to themselves or give it to the model!!

that should be easy, right??

...

....

...... pls say right

oh my god tae should probably drop out now so he doesn’t get to do this

rich people don’t necessarily have to be educated, right???? maybe he’ll just settle into being a himbo

he learned about the meaning of the word through urban dictionary that he tHEN only learned about like six months ago and now he gets so many things

taehyung’s not intimidated by the workload of it all -- in fact, he’s even excited about it because it helps him relax!!

what he’s intimidated about is the fact that he’s kim taehyung and there are only two possible options

either his model would be someone who knows him and would be taking every possible step to ensure that they climb the social ladder through him and they’re not even gonna be dISCREET about it

his model wouldn’t completely care about who he is and in the process belittles him upfront and tbh his hart wouldn’t be able to take that and he’s probably wipe his tears away with dollar bills

there is almost no in-between, that one he’s sure of

so why are you like this?

why are you neither of the two and why are you sO kind and go against his expectations????

do you have an ulterior motive or something????

you who’s a biochem major and is actually another building away from his own

you who’s made the initiative that you become hIS model

you who actually oFFERED and almost begged to be a part of a project that would only be for tae’s benefit

... aha

that’s about -5 points from being a cool laid-back nonchalant gal

+10 for looking like someone who’s had a massively obsessive crush on him since day one and looking like you’d lay his life for him

no but lmao actually you just learned about taehyung in a magazine

you were bored at the dentist’s and scrolled through every possible outlet in your phone and it didn’t satiate you anymore!!! so how about reading a good ol’ magazine :D

then came taehyung

it was a whole issue dedicated to him and you were probably too dedicated into reading it that this time it was you telling the dentist to wait lol

that’s as far as you knew about him

and then you learned just some weeks ago that taehyung happens to study where you also study at and that was.,., inch resting

you never really saw him before around campus because it was too big and well maybe if you put in the effort, you’d actually find him

maybe you had a tiny lil admiration for kim taehyung just from one whole issue alone you read at the dentist’s or whatever

you’ve only known about this final project situation through changbin!!!

changbin, your neighbor at the apartment next to you, who’d crash over whenever his wifi feels the tiniest bit slow

yes you did spend a little more money to upgrade your internet situation (most times it’s the router who makes all the difference) because you were so tIRED of having things slow in the middle of researching for your projects in biochem)

no you will nOT have that <3

and of course changbin’s not having your that shitty wifi either so he pushed you to get that in the first place so he can use it too lmao

he’s told you just a couple of days ago about his final project and that maybe, just maybe, he’d make it into a move for this girl that he likes

nothing’s more romantic than pleading for someone to paint ur face right

and your grade and the decision to whether you’re gonna pass or flunk and graduate or retake are relying on you mostly

and in changbin’s case it’s also hIS heart on the line so yeah no pressure at all luv

“i kinda feel bad for rich kid kim, y’know?”

“what about taehyung???”

“eW do you have a crush on him??”

“addressing someone by their name equals to a crush??????”

your banters never stop because you’re as quick-witted as him and he both loves and hates it

he loves that omg someone can keep up with him and that way he gets challenged to always have the last say!!

he hates that oh god why is he friends with someone who reminds him of himself so much how is hE gonna deal with that??

sometimes he’ll purposely argue with you to fEEL something lmao

but there’s just something here that tells him you’re a little more interested now in this flow of conversation ever since rich kid kim was mentioned

“hm, nothing. i’m pretty sure he doesn’t have a model yet.”

he dodges you in the kitchen to look for peanut butter in your cupboard and oddly... you’re not berating him for decreasing your groceries....?

what does changbin mean by that? whAt model?? model as in taehyung doesn’t have the newest model of whatever car he wants? or maybe he has a model girlfriend and-

hold on wait wHAT

taehyung has a-

“m-model?”

he looks at you weirdly but you don’t even bat an eye when he gets ahold of your marshmallow spread so that he could make another one of his s’mores sandwiches

“uhhhh model as in he doesn’t have someone to paint for our project??”

is that what you wanted to hear or,.,

you and changbin share one (1) brain cell and it SHOWS

the two of you have to open your mouths, then close, then ponder, and then do that aGAIN until the both of you could finally grasp if you were in the same page

“oh cool!! i’ll be his model then!”

“yeah but did he ask”

“it’s gonna be easy!! i’ll just tag along with you to your building”

“yeah but did he aSK”

“we’re probably gonna hit it off instantly and then you’ll have to leech off from someone else for their wifi and food and every other necessity that you already have-”

“yeah but dID HE ASK????”

long-story short: no. taehyung most certainly did not ask you to be his model.

but here you are

saying that you came a long way is a bit of a stretch because taehyung mostly turns his head the other way around when you call out to him in public

progress is still progress :D

you’re eating lunch with him at the same table and this time you’re sat beside him!! when normally he’d just walk home to his apartment (lol that’s not allowed but you won’t be surprised to know that he has a free pass) and eat!!!

before that, taehyung would gLARE at you until you stop asking to sit with him in his table

yea he gets a bit lonely at time because jimin and hobi aren’t with him and hE’S the outcast but he won’t do anything about it,, just scroll through his phone while he eats and tune everyone out

you figured that maybe it’s changbin always linked with you in lunch because your schedules just matched up thAt perfectly like it does with tae’s

hee-hee so you might have elbowed him until he begrudgingly agreed to be tolerable, keep atleast four feet of distance from you, and not call tae rich kid kim

spoiler alert: taehyung doesn’t really care about whatever you do because doing those changes with changbin did nOT work at all

however

H O W E V E R

taehyung doesn’t know at all how you’ve wormed your way into his heart!!

what seem to be cold to you is his warmest he’s ever been in such a new environment and outside of his usual comfort bubbles!!!

it’s like you occasionally stealing the food from his plate when you have the same thing is the equivalent of h*lding h*nds with him

you putting your leg over his before he pushes it after five seconds mUST be the equivalent to marriage

wait he’s lying

taehyung does know how you’ve wormed your way to his heart

“hi! i’m y/n! :D”

ok u are a little bit sweaty and out of breath from doing all that fast-paced walking for the past ten minutes

your new shoes that you still need to break into further aren’t helping your situation in the slightest bit

honestly? this is all changbin’s fault <3

he unknowingly gave you the sign that you were looking for

if he says yeah five times with five minutes?? okay yeah you’re definitely looking for kim taehyung and offering yourself to become his model

you don’t wanna sound weird but you feel sorry for him and you wanna help him :((

he’s not helping you tho because he has long legs underneath those trousers and it looked like he wouldn’t budge at all not unless you jogged and stopped right in front of him

“hi! i’m y/n!! :D”

“...”

“.....”

tae’s a bit... perplexed

because who’s THIS entity and why are you standing in front of him

...

....

“bye y/n.”

he wants to exit from this situation because oh my god??

why r u like this

he didn’t ASK for your name!!

and he doesn’t even know you and giving him your name honestly won’t do anything and he doesn’t get what’s your motive and-

“oh c’mon!! you didn’t even shake my hand :((”

he feels even more lost as he tries to wrap his head around that uh.....

you uh.... you wanted a handshake??

.....

tae doesn’t even hide his annoyance because it’s clear as day!!!

he’s blatantly tilting his head at you rudely with a blank stare omg take the hint pLEASE

realizing it now you mAY have came on too strong to taehyung that looks confused as ever

“hi, i’m y/n.”

changbin’s by one of the lockers taking pics of you beaming at taehyung and him scowling down to show you later how dumb you look and how you shouldn’t do this at all

okay LISTEN

his personality trait is to immediately assume the worst out of every scenario possible and that way when something slightly less worse happens? that’s a win babie ;D

he became ur friend in the first place because you heard him yelling since he’s at the door right next to yours and you could hEAR him throwing things around as he cusses his laptop

yeah he cusses his laptop what about it??

if you close your eyes hard enough, you could hear him throw his router against the wall (you later learned that he was so close to finishing his digitalization but then his laptop decided to die) before punching the air

(( the friendship started when you knocked vERY gently and offered him to borrow your laptop even if you aren’t done with all your homework ))

((( changbin thought at first that u were such an organized and too-friendly social butterfly who’s a kiss-ass to everyone but now he thinks ur the coolest person ever and he treasures you more than life itself )))

although, taehyung’s a lot more vicious and closed-off and critical than changbin

he narrows his gaze at you as you introduce yourself for the second time before merely clicking his tongue

“ok cool”

is that uhm

is that IT good sir

“you’re not,” you’re dancing around your words and being careful to not let a pout grace your lips at the sheer lack of enthusiasm, “gonna introduce yourself to me??”

you got a reaction alright

taehyung sCOFFS and that’s the loudest he’s ever been with you in the span of two minutes

“you followed me for ten minutes just to tell me your name. kinda seems like you already know mine if you do that, no?”

this is why you took up biochem instead of law

how do the lawyers not break down???

why does phoenix wright make it seem SO easy?? especially when he’s spoken to in a confrontal tone???

oh god taehyung broke you already

not to be rude but uh what do you wANT

can you get it over already??

“o-oh! uhm i was wondering if i could uHm,” you sound ridiculous now that you think about it and this is perhaps one of the only times you feel embarrassed, “volunteer to be your model for your project?”

hmm

was that a wrong answer,,,

sHOULD YOU HAVE SAID THAT??

“are you in my class?”

taehyung asks and he’s finally said a sentence to you!!! omg

you’re quite shocked so he had to click his tongue to get you to answer

“no, actually!! i’m a biochem major and-...”

that’s all it takes before he hums and nods his head

and for some reason taehyung looks at you like you’re pREY

“are you a stalker?”

okay wait holy fuck wHAT

you know what

you took a sip from changbin’s coffee half an hour ago but why are you only choking on it nOW

you’re positively sputtering and now ur pressured bc tae thinks you’re a stalker!!! a damn stalker!!

“looked at you long enough. i don’t need a sketch artist and i could just-”

no no no pls no

this meeting is going downhill very quickly

“oh my god taehyung i’m nOT a stalker okay!!!”

that shuts him up because your voice is so firm and okAY then how do u explain this stalker smh ://

throughout the whole time you’re talking about changbin being an art major and also your neighbor and everything in between, tae has such a neutral expression that you feel so intimidated

“-and that’s what!! i’m not taking advantage of you or anything, if that’s what you’re thinking i guess? i swear!!”

he listened and well if he’s being honest,,, okay yea you did make sense and he does know changbin

“okay then. i’ll think about it.”

“are you gonna give me your number???”

it’s either you’re so forward or he’s just not used to being caught off-guard

WHICH FUCKING ONE

“what for?”

it’s been so long ever since someone asked taehyung for his number

usually in galas and any other socialite gatherings you could think of, everyone’s number would just be in your phone automatically and you won’t even rEMEMBER how it got there in the first place

better yet, it’s been so long since he went back to his usual routine lifestyle of being himself

his last gala was two weeks ago and tae had to keep looking at his phone to study pdfs and whatever clear pictures he can get of his reviewers back at home because he had a test tomorrow morning

“so you could text me where we’re gonna meet so you could paint me, silly!!”

okay wOAH there

“i didn’t even say that you’d be my model????”

“lol but you were thinking it huh”

that’s it

taehyung has nO choice but to paint you if he wants to finish this project and graduate and have something of a thicker paper to flaunt

it came as a shock to him that hE took your offer and he could only imagine its effect on you

not to brag but tae didn’t even have to sweat for a little because it’s yOU who came to him with this offer!! not him!!

tae lives in the classiest apartment here in uni and everyone probably knows that

much to his insistence that he doesn’t want anyone from uni going outside his apartment, he had to take an L and invite you over

he wouldn’t risk doing his work in any place else because he doesn’t want anyone thinking and getting the wrong idea!!

speaking of, he’s regretting it now because you seem to be too happy being in his space

you’re pointing around and being awed at every possible thing!!!

what??? is this ur first time seeing a rattan hanging chair :// or a massive couch?? or a canvas painting of something so beautiful?? all of that in what’s supposed to be a student’s one apartment??? christ y/n get yourself together

“so what do you want me to do?? where do i sit oR do i stand instead?? i’m gonna need you to know that-...”

“nothing.” taehyung deadpans before he gets his camera so he could get digital shots as well if ever he needs an extra touch when it comes to his final product

the gears in your head are going bRRR and you’re gonna have to ask him to elaborate but taehyung already sets the pace

“nothing. just be your rEALLY annoying self and pretend i’m not here.”

normally you don’t take his words to heart but this one just hits a little close to home bc it’s early in the morning and taehyung already finds you intolerable

“by pretend, do you mean-...”

“up to you. are you more annoying around me or no?”

how did he read your MIND

tae got the thoughts in your head word per word and you’re so amazed at that because fUcK you originally thought that he’s good at bluffing his way up

click!

it’s you smiling at him

no you’re beaming at him

and you’re in front of his morning-lit curtains and you’re against the light

the portrait itself is already visually appealing and satisfying and man the shadows!!! the value!!!! they’re so raw and dreamy and this is exactly his style!!!

it was just a one-take wonder as soon as he took a picture of you!!! and he may have you to hold that position if he needs the push!! he just needs to translate it to canvas with his own language and emotions and then he’s dONE!!

you’re a pain in the ass

you laugh and you move too much

taehyung had you to to revisit that pose and hold it and you wouldn’t stop giggling bc you were too proud that you did THAT!

you also ask too many things that even hE doesn’t have the answers to

how is he supposed to know if red string lovers exist when you went into a spiel just because you saw a red tube of paint???? and why is he saying his opinions on such trivial things when he has his final project to take care of???

and how is he supposed to know why YOU’RE here hanging out with him instead of finishing your own final project

jk maybe it’s the L word but you’re gonna subdue that as much as possible since taehyung looks like he’d leave you by yourself with any chance that he gets

and you even call him terms of endearment!!! nicknames!! pet names!! names that you’d call someone who’s familiar to you and you probably l*ve!!!

angel

that’s what you call him :))

“why do you call me that?”

“because you look like one”

“and how would yOU know what angels look like??”

“because if they were to exist then you’d probably look like one!!”

“but-”

“ok that’s one minute no more questions taehyung <3″

tae just provides you with all the conviction you need to take care of him without even knowing

not in a maternal type of instinct type of way, but rather in a sPECIAL someone type of way

you find yourself caring for him mOre than you ever could for any regular friend you have!!

you just throw a whole loaf of bread to changbin and call it a day

but for tae??? you go above and beyond!!

“did it ever hit you that rich kid kim never really introduced himself to you?”

oh right....

changbin points out one day and you could see where he was getting at

for some reason he always knew what was in your mind at any given time and sometimes it’s to your disadvantage

you seem to be growing on taehyung though!!

he tolerates you better now!!

sometimes he’ll find you loveable even

he likes having someone around and you’re the perfect contender

if he decides to not talk too much, then you fill up the white noise!!

if he wants you to shut up?? then yOU shut up but of course not without babbling for a little

he’s opened up but with some reservations

some reservations that you don’t mind but it’s normal that you feel sometimes left out, y’know??

because it’s been a good month since you and taehyung properly interacted but he still resents you as much if you think about it

“hey angel!!”

“what is it-...”

taehyung looks up from his meal that he’s been poking at his fork because this has to be the fourth time you call out to him

so he turns to look at you and-

uhm

there seems to be a misunderstanding

you weren’t calling HIM

you were calling out to some other guy that iSN’T him

that’s seungmin!!! omg you haven’t seen him in so long and he just happened to pass by your lunch table!!!

apparently he has something to talk to you about which is why you’re standing up and leaving tae all alone on the table

seungmin’s smile is adorable as always and he gets you in a pretty good mood!!

oh god

dear gOD

what is taehyung feeling in his chEST???

tae’s grip on his fork is starting to get pRETTY tight

and if he’s aware enough, his right eye’s twitching and he’s practically scoffing under his breath

why tf would you call him that

WHO is angel and why is it nOT him anymore????

what he’s feeling is just unexplainable and it tastes something like betrayal

“who’s he?”

he quizzes you as soon as you get back to your table and you don’t waver one bit because you know he’s been asking questions recently

“oh that’s just seungmin!! we were childhood friends then he just transferred here awhile-...”

there’s a bitter taste on his tongue and it shows up in his face and you’re not even paying attention to him!!

“really? thought i was him for a second.”

ok now that got you to stop eating

????

why is he acting weird

taehyung looks even more irked because you look sO oblivious right now

“do you call everyone angel?”

o-oh where is this going

“uhm-”

you’re not even finished and to be honest you’re quite lost and taehyung sCOFFS you to the next century

“‘course you do.”

taehyung angrily finishes his meal and you leave it at that because ok maybe he had a bad day?? and he’s just taking it out on you??

and well tae DOESN’T want you to leave it at that

he wants you to ASK him why he’s mad!!! he’s passive-aggressive and it’s getting unhealthy but he’d rather choke than have him spill whatever he’s feeling

the next few days, taehyung avoids you like his LIFE depended on it

you’re not really bothered by it because he has his days, but this one’s just getting out of control

“are you giving me a time-out or something??”

lmao what did u do now

you nudge him when you see him by changbin’s apartment to borrow an easel even though he’s already got it by his apartment

yeah he’s mad at you and he’s petty but maybe he wants to see you again

tae’s giving you silent treatment and you don’t even question him for it

you don’t bother!!

you’re letting him do whatever he wants as always and he dOESN’T like it anymore!!!

he feels like he’s gonna combust at any given time and you don’t give a shit and he feels like yOU should give a shit because you always do!!

you always hover and worry around him but wHY does he feel like you’re not doing it anymore??

why does he yEARN FOR YOU???

it’s quite an an early night for you

you love biochem but sometimes it kicks your ass and it makes you retch at the mention of all-nighters nowadays!! bc they used to be fun but now doing them because you nEED to?? no thx

you’re already in your pajamas and you’re all washed up!! what could changbin need from you at 9 in the evening??

there’s an urgent knocking on your door and you resist the need to groan because you were about to really knock yourself out!! you need to get back all the rest you’ve wasted over your own final project

is that-

“taehyung?”

the man in question is in his huge yellow hoodie that swallows him up every time and he looks positively spent

his hair’s shaggy and his eyes are glazed and there’s a pink tint to his cheeks :((

he’s holding a baby hydroflask in his hands and you’re pretty sure that’s alcohol in there lol

“don’t call me taehyung!!”

he immediately snaps and you’re lost as aLWAYS

did he really just walk all the way to your complex to snAp at you??

“i’m not taehyung,” he frowns deeply and that’s when you’re a bit more mesmerized, “i’m angel.”

is this what you think it is??

your no.1 deflection move is to laugH and you’re doing that rn

something about this whole situation tickles you funny and you’re not sure what to feel about it

“i like your bottle!! i should get one for myself!!”

he could see right through you though

he ignores your stOOpid statements and goes to hold your hands :((

“no, no. i’m your angel. i-i’m your taehyung, right??”

listen

taehyung is the most confusing being you know and he’s so emotionally constipated that he outperforms changbin but this one,,,

this just feels so different

he’s hugging you

he’s embracing you

he’s burrowing his face to your neck and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t ever imagine what this would feel like :(((

he positively 100% might be in love with you

and you positively 100% might be in love with him too

he’s fishing for your hand by your side to put in between your bodies as he shakes it and that’s because he doesn’t wanna let go of the hug

:((((

you’re melting and this what heaven must feel like :((((

“h-hi. name’s kim taehyung and i’m yours.”

#I SPENT A LOT OF TIME ON THIS PLS LEAVE FEEDBACK PLS AND THANK YOU :D #taehyung #kim taehyung #taehyung imagine #taehyung imagines #taehyung x reader #taehyung x y/n #taehyung drabble #taehyung drabbles #taehyung au #taehyung oneshot #bts taehyung #bts imagine #taehyung fic rec #taehyung fic recs #bts fic recs #kim taehyung imagine #requested drabbles

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shewillreadyou · 4 years ago

Text

Me before you: Chapter 3: Excuse me miss

A/N: This is a TRR AU. Liam is already married, but see’s Riley and wants his cake. If the readers are receptive this might turn into more than a mini series. Enjoy!

Disclaimers: Most characters are property of Pixelberry

Warnings: Language, adult content, mild sexual innuendo.

Word Count: 3468

Catch up: Haven’t met you Yet For Real

Prompts: None

Pairings: Drake & Riley

Song inspiration: Luther Vandross Take you out & Wait for Love

Be Kind: Hit the heart button, leave a comment or reblog. It makes a writer so so happy.

The hot water cascaded down his sculpted body. He groaned as he ran his hands through his luscious chocolate locks. He lathered his shoulders as thoughts of her ran through his mind. He was captivated by her. She seemed to consume his every waking moment. Liam had crossed the line yet again. Every time it seemed his transgressions got more and more out of hand. He refused to allow his friend’s actions to ruin his final couple of days in the states.

Bastien had taken over the King’s detail while they were in Waxahachie for Savannah’s wedding. For the next 48 hours, Liam was not his charge, he was his friend. His thoughts went back to her. She represented hope, possibility, promise. He had no idea what was to come, but he knew that it would be an exciting adventure if she was at his side.

As he pulled his white henley tee shirt over his head, his mind went back to the conversation he had at the reception with his cousin Tyler, who was a cyber-security analyst with the Department of Homeland security. Drake explained to Tyler that he would no longer be sitting with him and the rest of the bridal party because the girl who he had been telling Tyler about who works in advertising, who he met in New York was there, and he intended to spend as much time with her as he could. She was something special. She could be the one. “So you invited her to Sav’s wedding?” he inquired.

“No, actually she is the friend of Sav’s college roommate, Mackenzie, and came as her plus one. I had no idea she would be here.”

“Sounds like fate.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that of all the places in the world this one person could be, she is here at your sister’s wedding... in Waxahachie, TX. If this girl is the one, you’re screwed. You might as well spruce up your resume. She’s a career woman. She is not going to move to Cordonia for you, and you suck at long-distance relationships. I can probably get you in at my job. My guy Rob in HR owes me a favor.”

“I’ll keep that in mind if I ever get the courage to ask her out,” he told Tyler.

The truth was, he could easily see a future with Riley. She’s beautiful, honest, smart, quick-witted, and kind. His cousin’s words bounced around in his head as he pulled on his favorite distressed jeans giving himself a quick once over in the full-length mirror in the room his Mom had decorated for him at the ranch after she returned to the states when his dad passed.

He opened his laptop and took a look around the room. The Walker Ranch had been in his father’s family for several generations being passed down to the eldest male child, like each generation before. Drake stayed in Cordonia after his father died and was handsomely compensated by the crown. His college education was covered, and he and his sister received a stipend each month. Drake was always taught to do a lot with little and to save the rest. For years he lived at the palace and saved every penny. Being friends with Liam, he learned how to invest wisely and he did pretty well in the stock market. His newest pastime had been real estate investment. He had been buying foreclosed homes in and around Dallas and having his Mom’s brothers and his cousins fix them up before selling them for a generous profit.

He was curious, he was now the rightful owner of the Walker Ranch. It had struggled in the past, but because of his business plans and wise investment, the family business was as strong as it had ever been and his mom was nearing retirement age. What if he and Riley did end up together? He knew the plan was for his cousin Miranda to replace his mom when she was ready, while he retained ownership, but where would that leave him? He pulled up the DHS website and clicked on the careers tab. He was reading a description of a position that he believed he would qualify for, Intelligence Analyst.

Just then Liam plowed through his door without warning.

“Li! What the fuck man?” he shouted as he closed his laptop abruptly.

“My apologies, I hope I'm not interrupting. I just wanted to apologize if I offended you. You were right, any woman can be a lot. Carsyn is not speaking to me, she thinks I'm interested in Riley.”

“You are interested in Riley. She's just not interested in you and it's killing you. Let me ask you something, why is it so hard for you to grasp that a smart beautiful woman would be interested in me over you?”

“It’s just.. It’s not that. I'm not accustomed to rejection. It intensifies my want for her.”

“ I hate to cut our conversation short but I have to head out. I’ve got a few stops to make before I pick up Riley.”

“Then I shall take my leave. Enjoy! Smart man, planning a date when it’s going to storm. I’m sure you won’t have a problem closing tonight,” he said as he left the room.

The evening came and Drake drove along the winding Country Road towards the city. He tapped his thumb against the steering wheel to the beat of Chris Stapleton’s, “Starting Over.”

Then he switched from Prime country to the Heart and Soul station on his XM Radio. If he was going to have her in his life it meant embracing all aspects of it. He knew that music was a big thing for her and although she would listen to a little bit of everything she loved R&B and Jazz. A song by Luther Vandross came on and to his surprise, it was not very different from the country music he listened to all the time. The chorus was catchy and very fitting.

“Excuse me Miss, what's your name? Where are you from, and can I come? And possibly, can I take you out tonight?”

He found himself humming the tune as he stepped into the local Nursery to pick up a houseplant to go along with the Pinot Grigio he bought as a gift for Riley. He decided on a Prayer Plant.

It was relatively low maintenance and he thought it would be entertaining to watch it curl up in darkness. He didn't want to do the same flowers and candy that everyone does. He wanted to take her something that she would keep for a while, and possibly would make her think of him when she saw it. As much as he didn't want to admit it the thought of her dating someone else while he was back in Cordonia was driving him insane.

He was nervous and he couldn't figure out why. They were just going to hear some live music. But he wanted to impress her so badly. He knew that it was more likely that he would end up putting his foot in his mouth but with her, for some reason, it did not matter. When he pulled up in front of her place he put on ChapStick, and reached into his glove box, sprayed on some Chrome, and checked his breath before quickly gathering the gifts for her and heading toward the door. He tucked the house plant under his arm as he smoothed over his clothes as the elevator took him to her floor. A small lump formed in his throat as he approached her door.

She opened the door and his breath caught in his throat as he took in her appearance. She was dressed in a denim outfit with matching stiletto boots and oddly enough, the denim matched his jeans. It would almost appear planned. He was secretly thrilled. She smiled at him and he was sure he forgot his own name for a few seconds. She stretched up on her toes and kissed him sweetly on the cheek.

“Hey Drake, you smell delicious.”

“Hey. Thanks. These are for you.”

“Aww, you brought me a houseplant and wine? I’m not worthy, but I love it. Thank you. Come in! I promise I’m almost ready.”

She sat the plant on the counter and placed the wine in her wine fridge.

“You look greeeeat,” she squealed.

“Thanks. So do you.”

“So how’d you know what kind of wine I like?” she asked as she finished her eye makeup in the mirror.

“Observant, I guess. I saw a bottle in the trash when I was here yesterday.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Are you ready?”

He stood moving to open the door for her. “After you.” They made it downstairs as a couple of her neighbors made it home from what he only assumed was church. He couldn’t figure out if the staring was due to her outfit or if it was because she was with him. He looked at her in awe as she strutted with confidence to his car.

He opened the door for her and she smiled before thanking him.

He could feel his heart pounding in his chest. She was rattling on and on about the artist performing in the festival and he was secretly praying she wouldn’t ask him a question that required an intelligent answer. She kept touching his biceps and his hand. Her hands were so soft and he was sooo turned on. He hoped that she didn’t notice the bulge in his pants and think that he was a creep. He wondered if she kept touching him because she was nervous too?

“Um, Ri? You good?”

“Yeah, why?”

“You are extremely chatty and you keep touching me.”

“I’m excited. I’ll try to keep my hands to myself, but the way this henley hugs your arms,” she wiggled her eyebrows.

He let out a low chuckle as he quickly glanced at her for the seventh time.

“Are you ok?”

“Yeah, never better. Why?”

“You keep looking at me.”

He grinned keeping his eyes on the road. They were nearing the venue when she glanced at his pants. He immediately assumed that she spotted his retreating erection.

“What?”

“We’re matching you know. People are going to think we did this purposely.”

“Do you care what others think?”

“No, I suppose not.”

“Good because we’re here.”

They parked and he asked her to stay put for a moment. He got out of the truck and grabbed a blanket and wicker picnic basket. He walked around the truck and opened the door for her and she blushed furiously as she stepped out.

They made their way to a free spot among the crowd. Riley noticed a few glares from both men and women, who obviously had an issue with she and Drake being there together. Then she smiled as one woman gave her a smile, wink and thumbs up as she stood to the side watching while Drake spread the blanket and invited Riley to sit. She knew that some people would have opinions of them being an interracial couple, but Drake didn’t seem bothered. In fact, she thought it showed how courageous he was. When another woman mouthed, “That’s a good look!”

She bit the inside of her cheek trying not to smile. The truth was she didn’t need any validation. She knew Drake was a catch. The fact that he was easy on the eyes was a bonus.

“What’s in the basket?”

“Uh, a little something my mom helped me with.”

He opened the basket and pulled out wine glasses, a bottle of her favorite Pinot Grigio, cheese, cashews, summer sausage, deli turkey, sliced cucumbers, grapes, strawberries, whipped cream and 2 brownies. The opening act took the stage and Drake pulled Riley close.

“I hope you’re hungry.”

“I am,” she said coyly as she settled between his legs.

They cuddled for a bit before eating, until one of the performers played a rendition of The Gap Band’s, “Outstanding.” She jumped up and pulled Drake with her. He wrapped his arms around her from behind and swayed back and forth with Riley. She felt so comfortable in his arms, he actually had rhythm. There went another stereotype out the window, it just felt right.

After several acts had gone on and several glasses of wine later Riley settled in his lap as a performer started to play a slower song. “I love Luther,” Riley squealed as she began to sing along.

Knowing love the way I do

I can say for certain that it's true

There's a chance for me and you.

I surely feel like the time is near

The picture in my mind is very clear

I think love has brought us here

I remember not too long ago

I was just a lonely person

With a lonely heart, yeah

And I was hoping there could one day be,

Be a chance

For me to get the love

That I'd been missing

Sometimes love takes a long time

Wait for love

And you're gonna get the chance to love

Wait for love, wait for love oh, my

When you take the chance on love you'll see

It's not a waste of time if you truly believe

The impossible can be..

So hold on tight if you think you're right

Cause nothing hurts as bad as when you see

You gave up too easily

Now I remember spending all my time

On a dream that kept me wishing that you could be mine, yeah

And I was hoping there could one day be, be a chance, whoa

I never stopped believing there could one day be, be a chance

For me to get the love that I'd been missing

Sometimes love takes a long time

Wait for love, and you're going to get your

Chance to love

Wait for love, wait for love

And you'll get the love that you've been missing

Sometimes love takes a long time

But wait for love

And you're going to get your chance to love.

Drake couldn’t help but hang on to her every word. He wondered if she was trying to send him a message through the lyrics. She had a voice like an angel and when the song ended he was breathless.

“Ms. Riley sings too?”

She giggled as she rested her head on Drake's shoulder, her back to his strong chest. He fed her grapes then strawberries with whipped cream soliciting jealous glances from some nearby onlookers. She made sure to let her lips and tongue graze his fingers. For a few blissful moments, they both silently enjoyed the closeness.

“You know, this is pretty cool,” he whispered in her ear.

She smiled as his breath tickled her ear. Feeling the effects of the wine, she paused for a few moments before she responded.

“What’s that?”

“This. Us. The festival. It all just feels right.”

She wordlessly looked up at him. She wondered if she could will him to kiss her with her “come get it eyes.” Suddenly, a torrential downpour covered the venue, leaving Drake and Riley scrambling to gather the blanket and basket before sprinting to his Jeep. Before they could get there he stopped snaking his arm around her pulling her close.

This was it, he was going to do it, it was now or never. If she was the onehe wanted to look back at their first date and tell a romantic tale of their first kiss in the rain. Now was the time. He leaned in and when she opened her eyes her lips found his instantly. It was everything she expected and more. It was hungry and passionate and lustful and it made her lady parts twitch. When he pulled away he watched her for signs of regret, but her eyes said she wanted more.

“Hurry, get in,” Drake urged her as he took the time to throw the basket and blanket in the back.

They were both soaked. She laughed hysterically when he finally got inside.

“This entertains you, does it?”

She nodded as she continued laughing, her eyes were clenched tightly.

He went back in taking her lips again as it continued to storm all around them. Her hands roamed his body and her eyes went wide when she made contact with the bulge in his pants. Another stereotype out the window…Drake cupped the back of her dripping head with his left hand deepening the kiss while his right hand explored the soft skin of her thigh as a soft moan escaped her. Suddenly his phone rang, “Mama’s Song” by Carrie Underwood blasted from his pocket startling Riley. Drake huffed and looked at her with apologetic eyes before answering.

“Mom? What’s up?”

“I’m so sorry for interrupting your date Drizzy.”

Riley smiled.

“Mom, what’s wrong?”

“The power is out and the generator didn’t kick in. I gave Larry the weekend off..”

“I’ll be there as soon as I get Riley home safely. Sit tight.”

“Thanks Driz. How’d it go? Did you kiss her?”

“Mom! She can hear you.”

“Hi, Mrs.Walker.” Riley chimed in.

“Hi, sweetheart. Did he kiss you?”

Riley laughed again.

“Bye Mom!”

Drake ended the call and turned to Riley, cheeks flushed red.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?” She asked as he pulled out of the parking lot.

“For the way, tonight is ending. For my Mom.”

“Nothing could ruin today. Not even your Mom Drizzy,” she laughed again.

‘Geez, Ri that was below the belt.”

His comment made her think about his bulge and she began to blush.

“Are you blushing?”

“Maybe.”

“Why?”

“Oh, it’s too embarrassing to share.”

“Now you know I won’t stop until you tell me.”

When they pull into her neighborhood the entire area is pitch black. Her building was also dark.

“Good thing I have candles.”

“Or you could go back to the ranch with me,” he said shyly.

“Really? I don’t want to put anyone out.”

“It’s just Mom and I. Liam and Carsyn should be out for the evening. Besides, I promised you dinner and it’s Sunday, I bet my mom cooked.”

“I can’t meet your Mom looking like this. I’ll be ok.”

“Riley, I’m not leaving you alone in the dark.”

“If you want to spend more time with me just say that.”

“Fine, I want to spend more time with you and I’m not leaving you alone in the dark. My Mom would kill me. Pleaaase! I can get you one of Sav’s outfits. I promise it will be an adventure.”

“Okay, I’ll go. But only because you’re so cute when you beg.”

He bit his lip. “You haven’t seen anything yet.”

“Drake Arrington Walker!” she warned.

“Too much?” He smiled.

When they arrived at the ranch, Drake showed Riley to his room and gave her towels and a change of clothes while he went to help with the generator. She quickly showered, pulled her hair up into a messy bun and moisturized with his Nivea lotion that she found on the counter she walked back into his bedroom pulling on the leggings she borrowed. She was still bare from the waist up when the door opened. Her back was turned when she looked over her shoulder to reprimand him.

“Drake!”

“Riley, it’s me, Liam.”

Riley screamed as she scrambled to cover herself.

“Get out!”

“My mistake. I thought Drake was in here. But this, you are much better.”

“Get. Out.”

“Come on, what’s a little fun between friends?” he asked as he closed the door.

Before she could answer Drake barreled into the room, his fist connected with Liam’s jaw before he tackled him.

“Have fun with me you bastard, I told you to leave her the fuck alone,” he yelled as Bastien pulled Drake off of Liam. Riley watched the entire scene in horror from the corner.

“Get the fuck out Li!”

After Bastien escorted Liam back to the guest house, Drake checked on Riley.

“Are you hurt? He didn’t touch you did he?”

“No, I’m more embarrassed than anything. He walked in without knocking while I was changing.”

“Well, you don’t have to worry about him.”

“What in tarnation is all that racket back here?” Bianca asked as she turned the corner.

“Just Li being a creep. Everything is fine Mom.”

Riley stood when Bianca entered the room.

“Riley, this is my Mom, Bianca. Mom, this is my Riley.”

His eyes went wide as soon as the words left his mouth. He grimaced as Riley extended her hand to his Mom. Bianca pulled Riley into her embrace instead.

“It’s nice to meet the girl who makes Driz nervous.”

“Mom!”

Riley laughed.

Come on darling, I know y’all were supposed to get dinner. It’s Sunday so I cooked some pot roast, mashed potatoes, carrots, and green beans and for dessert, banana pudding funnel cakes.

“Oh my God, Mrs. Walker, that sounds amazing. Drake, you were holding out on me.”

“Not, really. Maybe I wanted to cook for you first.”

@txemrn @pixie88 @secretaryunpaid@khoicesbyk @blackkingliamstan @mom2000aggie @shannonwrote @hopelessromanticmonie @chemist-ana @rideordiechronicles @lucy-268 @dcbbw @darley1101 @maurine07 @sfb123 @bbrandy2002 @kingliam2019 @schnitzelbutterfingers @lem-20 @choicesficwriterscreations @no-one-u-know @jessiembruno @queenrileyrose @thefrenchiemama @somersetmummy

TRR: @twinkleallnight @bebepac @mainstreetreader @romereadingshop @romewritingshop @lem-20 @texaskitten30

#choices fanfiction #the royal romance #drake walker #drake x riley #me before you #fanfic #fandom #fanfiction #trr #trr au fanfic #naughty liam #follow shewillreadyou #jazz drizzy #kim reads #kim writes #kim reblogs

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that-milo-kid · 3 years ago

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Day 7: PTSD

Warnings: a corpse is spoken about in detail, blood is mentioned and there is swearing

Fandom: none

Word Count: 912

Characters: none - this story is written from a second person pov

Notes: this is entirely based off my personal experiences, because i didn’t know what to write for today. i dont have ptsd however i experience some similar symptoms, so thats mostly what i based this on (ALSO IRLS IGNORE THIS DAY LOL PLEASE DONT READ THIS)

this is a combination of a vent post and a practice at second person narration

You can still see him when you close your eyes.

Lying on the sidewalk, one arm bent at an unnatural angle, so covered in blood and bruising that he hardly seems recognisable. Not that you would be able to recognise him anyway – you didn’t really know him, after all.

He lies there, and an EMT standing beside him drapes a white sheet over his body and it feels like the sirens enter your head and make a home in your memories, in your thoughts. There are two cars pulled up beside him, one blue and one white, and there’s a blonde woman. You think she’s crying, but you can’t be sure.

And then you're gone, your car flying by with the wind and you’re just one of many, many citizens taking the motorway on a Friday afternoon. Your dad is sitting in the seat next to you, and his music is playing almost loud enough to drown out the sirens and he’s saying something mut you can’t really hear him, can’t really understand what he’s saying.

You think it’s something about your brother. You don’t think it really matters either way.

The ride home is a blur, but then again, most things ae after that afternoon. You get home and your mother is there, yelling, because you shouldn’t be so cavalier and calm about death. Its cruel, its inhumane, and you’re reminded of a conversation you had with her recently about something else where she said the same thing. You wonder if she realises that she repeats herself so often.

You leave, eventually, because you have things to do and your mother has things to do and your dad left ages ago – maybe hours or minutes or even seconds. He leaves. You don’t notice anymore.

You're surprised when you get to your room, by how little you feel. You saw a corpse. The corpse of a man who was somebody’s father, somebodies son. A best friend.

Maybe it was normal. But you think about how your mother reacted to your indifference earlier, and you wonder if maybe you’re broken. How fucked up is it that you saw a dead man, and the worst part for you is that your mother’s upset with you?

You get your things, and you get in the car – not the truck, not with the loud music and the sirens and the

You get in the car. You drive down the motorway, and you don’t look don’t think don’t feel when you drive past the sidewalk.

It’s on the radio that afternoon. A horrible accident, a hit and run that supposedly ‘left onlookers scared and traumatised’. You wonder if you’re one of them. None of the big news channels that night cover it. You hear about an armed robbery in America. You hear about how the stock market is fluctuating. There is no mention of the man in your neighbourhood that was killed.

You wonder why.

Day pass, and then months, and then it’s a new year entirely and you still remember the exact date the man died. You know his name now – you checked the news to see if it had been released every day after the accident.

He was a father to a young girl, apparently. Only 24, a health freak and gym junkie. He was part of the military. You wonder how much of his life he got to live.

You see him everywhere. Not only behind your eyes and in your dreams, no. You see him at the shops, in a young father with a toddler, holding his daughters hand and walking her around. You see him whenever you pass by the gym near your house, seeing all of the people swarming the entrance at all times of the day. You wonder if he was ever one of them.

You aren’t sure if his daughter will remember him. Why does this matter to you – you never knew this man. Somehow, a man you’ve only ever known as a corpse has become an important part of your life. You can’t figure out why.

There aren’t any cemeteries near your area. You wonder if he was buried or cremated. Would you be able to visit his grave, if he had one? How would you explan your visit to a family member that might be there?

‘Oh, sorry to show up to your relatives grave, I saw his dead body being carted away by paramedics and now I can’t stop thinking about him. Enjoy your day!’

You decide not to look. It’ll be easier that way.

Some people you know throw around terms – traumatic, disorder, therapy. You don’t listen too hard. You don’t hear anything but sirens anyway.

You don’t walk on that sidewalk for months afterwards. When you finally do, it’s hand in hand with a friend who doesn’t notice your panic attack, who laughs off your warning to stick to the side of the path. And you can’t quite blame her. You suppose it would sound stupid if someone told you that, too.

No one really knows. A few friends, and your mother, but she told you that if you told anyone else then it made you a terrible fucking person, so you don’t. you make a few jokes, and people laugh it off because it’s you. They were never really jokes, not really. But you don’t know how else to say it.

September 17th.

You can still see him when you close your eyes.

#agony april #agony april 2022 #agony april day 7 #tw death #tw dead body #tw blood #tw swearing #irls please dni this is really shitty #milo writes

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wiypt-writes · 4 years ago

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Riding On

CH7- Home, Sweet Home

Summary: Frank and Fliss find their perfect family home, but there’s something bothering Mary.

Warnings: Bad Language words. Discussions about suicide. A little bit of angst.

Pairing: Frank Adler x Fliss Gallagher

A/N: This is a bit of an emotionally charged filler chapter…and we move time on a little through to June in the middle. And photos of the Adler house are included at the bottom so you can visualise what I used for inspiration.

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Fliss Gallagher and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Riding On Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 6

You’re giving it another try, staring at the deep blue sky, and you say to the driver just drive, coz you never felt so alive.

April 2019

“Hey honey, you ok?” Frank juggled his phone, pinning it between his ear and his shoulder as he leaned over his computer in the office, scanning the database on the screen for a filter part they needed to order.

“No, I mean yes! I’ve just heard some awesome news!”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, so you remember the guy that bought the house that backs onto the yard when Old Man River died…” “That wasn’t his name.” Frank chuckled “It was Mr Morris.”

“He called himself River, it was funny and suited him. Anyway, that’s not the point. You know the guy who bought it…guess what I found out before?”

Frank stopped what he was doing and straightened up. He didn’t like that dick, one bit. When Mr Morris had died at the start of the year, Fliss had been quite upset about the news as the old man had been very friendly to her, often popping in for a cup of tea a few afternoons a week for some company. Mr Morris’ son had sold the house without them even knowing it had gone on the market, which was a shame as it would have been perfect for them given the location. The guy who had bought it, Frank didn’t even know his name, nor did he care because he was a dick and a pervert to boot. The way he looked at Fliss made Frank want to punch his face in.

“What’s Douchey Mc Douchebag done now?”

“You’re so childish.” she scoffed “Anyway, I was only commenting to Joanne last night that we haven’t seen him for like a month and she went home and mentioned it to her dad who works with some other guy in the property development business and the long and short of it is he’s gone bankrupt Frank!”

Frank laughed loudly “Couldn’t have happened to a nicer guy, babe!”

“I know right!” Fliss voice was gathering pace and pitch, the way it always did when she was excited. “So literally about half hour after she’s told me this, someone turns up and there’s a For Sale sign outside, the house is on the market!”

Ok now he was interested. Frank could picture the look of excitement on her face as she spoke to him and he felt the smile cross his face “No shit?”

“Yeah, I’ll send you the website to look at the photos but…oh God, it would be perfect! Some of it is really nice, some of it needs decorating but…”

“Ok, well, why don’t you call the realtor? Arrange a viewing” he said “Hopefully you won’t puke halfway round this one.”

“Ok, first off that wasn’t my fault. Bean objected to the smell. Who the fuck cooks eggs the day they know they have someone coming to view their house?” her indignant tone made Frank chuckle “And second off…”she paused “I already did. He said he can meet us at half 12.”

“Half 12? As in lunch time? Today?” Frank frowned.

“I know I just really don’t want to miss out on this one Frank, and you said you were gonna come up here for lunch and-”

“Ok, ok.” Frank sighed “I’ll shuffle some stuff around, work a little later tonight and take an extra half hour.”

“I love you.” she replied and he could hear the smile in her voice.

“Good job I love you too.” he said back gruffly “Because you’re a pain in my ass.”

He bid her goodbye and just as he was looking at the rota to make sure there were enough staff in to cope if he took a longer lunch, his phone beeped. He clicked through to the link Fliss had sent him and had a scan through the photos. To be fair the house didn’t look in too bad condition. It was deceptive from the outside, looked like a small farmhouse but they knew thanks to the extension Douchebag had put on the back it now formed an L shape and from the look of it, was pretty spacious. The kitchen was new, the main bathroom was new so the big work looked like it had been mostly done. The décor in some of the rooms was really old fashioned, especially the hallway you and the front reception room, but that was all cosmetic. What really grabbed him was the price. It was up for just over 320 thousand, which was a fucking steal considering the size, location, the garden and the garage/outhouse it came with.

“You ok Frank?”

He looked up and smiled as Alan, his boss walked in to the office. “Yeah, sorry, Fliss has found a house and managed to book a viewing for lunch time. Fucking 7th one in 2 weeks.”

Alan snorted “Keeping you on your toes I see?”

“Well I gotta say, this one’s looking pretty good. It’s the house that backs onto our Yard out in Pinellas Park.” Frank explained “It was sold not even 6 months ago to a developer and he’s apparently gone bankrupt so put it back on the market.”

“Huh.” Alan smiled “Sounds like it was meant to be. Take it you’re going then?”

“Yeah, Charlie and Gary are in all afternoon. I thought I could take an extra half hour, work it back tonight or…”

“Frank, when was the last time you actually took a full hour for your lunch and didn’t cut it short by 10 or 15?” Alan looked at him.

Frank hesitated “Yeah, but that’s-”

“No buts.” Alan shook his head. “Do what you gotta do.”

“Thanks Alan.” Frank smiled, “I appreciate it.”

Alan waved away his gratitude before he dropped into the chair on the opposite side of Frank’s small desk and gestured for Frank to sit down.

“I wanted to talk to you in person, before the news gets out. I’m looking at retiring Frank, fully this time.”

“That’s good news, for you I mean.” Frank smiled, taking his seat. “You must be happy?”

“Kinda bitter sweet.” He shrugged “But I hit 70 this year and bout time I let it all go. Bill’s already chomping at the bit to book damned fishing trips so...it’ll be nice to step back. But I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Shoot.”

“My son, James is going to be taking over, that won’t come as any surprise to you as you’ve seen him knocking around a bit and he likes you.”

“Good to know I’m not going to be out on my ass.” Frank smiled, breathing out a little.

“No, not a chance. I wouldn’t allow it.” Alan said “I’ll still be the owner, just stepping back from major decision making and day to day running. Anyway, the point is Frank, James needs a deputy. He is young and a little inexperienced. I’ve seen how quickly over the last year you’ve picked up rotas, staffing issues, dealt with the stock takes, haggled with the supply chain…I wondered if you’d consider it.”

Frank blinked “You wanna make me deputy manager?”

“In a word, yes. And I know you got your hands full at the moment and they’ll be even more full when that boy of yours arrives but the changes won’t come into effect until the end of the year so we got plenty of time to work out the details.”

“Wow, I err…” Frank shook his head “I don’t know what to say.”

“I don’t need an answer now.” Alan said, “Take some time to consider it. Talk it over with Fliss.”

“I will, I’ll give it some thought.”

“Ok, well, that’s all I dropped in for.” Alan said, standing up, groaning a little “Did you just hear my damned knees click?”

Frank laughed and shook his head “No, but to be honest mine click too so I wouldn’t worry about it.”

“Getting old sucks.” Alan said, shaking his head “I tell ya, the minute I can’t enjoy the simple things in life, put a bullet in my head.”

Frank snorted as Alan shot him a wink and left him to his thoughts.

******* Frank glanced down at the wooden boards beneath his feet in the entrance hall. They were solid old wood, oak he thought, and with a clean and polish would look stunning. He looked up and saw Fliss talking animatedly to the realtor, a young man called David as he nodded and gestured to his left. Fliss opened the door and looked at Frank who followed her into the first reception room. It smelt musty, and there was an old sofa and threadbare carpet in the room but it was light and had a nice, airey feeling to it thanks to the large windows at the front of the house.

“New carpet and a bit of paint…” Frank mused nodding, “Be good as new.”

She nodded eagerly, her eyes shining a she looked around and nodded at the fire place “Really, in Florida?”

“It gets cold, as you know.” he teased “Besides, we just fill it with some of your million candles or whatever…”

She nudged him and they turned around, David watching them.

“So, you’re obviously in the older part of the house that hasn’t really been touched apart from upstairs.” he explained, “But if you follow me I’ll show you the extension which is all new and, well, to be honest, I think it’s stunning.”

The three of them moved back into the hall and through a door at the end which led into a huge open plan kitchen and living area. The kitchen was gorgeous. Sleek white units, modern appliances, marble tops, a huge breakfast bar. Douchebag had clearly spent a fortune doing this up. The floor was a light grey and white laminate which David pointed out was heavy wearing. To the left of the kitchen area was a huge space where Frank could clearly picture their sofas and TV, and then just off that was a door which led into another smaller reception room, freshly painted and carpeted. He was just pondering how they could turn that into a play room when Fliss gave a gasp and nudged Frank pointing to the large bay window at the back which had been converted into a seating nook of sorts. They made their way over and saw that the view extended right over their garden highlighting a small pool area which was surrounded by a low set of railings with a gate that were all painted a glossy black. The pool itself was sparklingly clean and clearly brand new.

“Oh wow… “ Fliss mumbled, looking at the sand stone tiles that surrounded the area and the rest of the garden.

“Yeah the rear garden loops in an L round the house” David said. “There’s a larger fence around this area to keep it private and separate from the land at the front that runs flush to the yard area.”

Frank’s hands dropping to her hips as he nodded to the right “Could extend that little patio area for a table and chairs, maybe build a brick BBQ. Couple of sun-loungers for that bit at the back of the pool.”

She nodded eagerly before they headed back into the hallway they’d entered into where the realtor showed them the little room that was to the right as you came in the door which held a number of shelves and coat hooks and a toilet and sink basin. They then headed up stairs to find 4 bedrooms. The master extended down the entire side of the house overlooking the main yard area of Sandybrook. It needed some work, the plaster and paint was peeling away in some areas, but Frank wasn’t worried at that. It was an easy job. What he was pleased to see was that the rest of it was in good condition. There was a brand new en-suite attached to it, housing a toilet, a huge shower and his and hers sinks. The room also had built in wardrobes and huge ceiling to floor bi-folding doors which opened up onto a small balcony. Douchebag had clearly been focussing on the big jobs first before he got into the cosmetics, which Frank had to give him credit for.

The main bathroom was in between the wall of their en-suite and the next bedroom, both situated at the back of the house over the extension and overlooking the fields belonging to the yard. The plaster was fresh in that bedroom but hadn’t been painted, again, not an issue, because Frank knew a certain little miss would be no doubt picking a colour as soon a she spotted this room.

“Bet Mary chooses this one.” Frank said, voicing his thoughts and Fliss nodded, smiling

“I would if the Master didn’t have that en-suite.” she grinned “Look at that view!”

“Yeah, who’d have thought you could work from home in the equestrian business” he chuckled as they then headed to the next bedroom on the opposite side of the landing. This was also rather large, but like the main part of the master bedroom, was clearly one of the original two bedrooms the house had and it needed some updating.

The 4th bedroom was a smaller one up a narrow set of stairs hidden by door in the hallway. It opened up into an attic room which tucked into the roof of the house.

The realtor then led them back down and the out to the outbuildings. There was a huge garage with a half- finished apartment of sorts above it that had been used as storage but could be easily a guest suite if they so wanted, and then the thing Frank had really loved was the workshop off the side of the garage, accessed by a small door. It was musty and full of crap but was somewhere for him to store all his tools and work on any side projects he decided to pick up.

All in all Frank was finding it pretty damned hard to pick faults in the place.

As they headed back to the main house and Frank asked David politely to give them a moment to look around alone and he nodded eagerly before Frank and Fliss headed back into the house.

“I’m getting good vibes Sailor.” Fliss said as she turned round, looking at the kitchen, once more heading over to the bay window seat, “really good vibes.” she spun back to him and he smiled at the look on her face. “I mean, ok, a few rooms need decorating and there’s some finishing off bits to do all over but it’s nothing that dad can’t help with and I’m sure-“

At that she stopped dead, and gave a little gasp as her hand flew to her bump.

“You ok?” Frank stepped forward.

“Yeah he’s…” she swallowed “Bean’s kicking, Frankie! Quick!”

He reached out with his hand and she took it, pressing it to the side of her bump. After a second or two he felt something wriggle a little under his palm and he looked at Fliss, his face cracking into an open mouthed smile as he felt his son move for the first time.

“Lissy…” he swallowed his eyes misting over. “That’s…oh my God!”

“You should feel it from my POV!” Fliss smiled her own eyes glassy too.

Frank didn’t want to take his hand away. Instead, he kept moving his palm, tracking their baby’s movements when eventually they stopped.

“I think that means BB likes the house.” Fliss looked at him.

Frank scoffed, shaking his head. “BB’s Momma likes the house.”

“Doesn’t his Daddy?” she asked, her hands sliding round his neck.

“Yeah, his Daddy does.” he replied honestly in a low voice as he looked around the large room. “In fact, I like it a lot.”

“You think Mary will?”

“Are you kidding?” Frank snorted “Soon as she sees that view and that pool, she’ll be packing to move in straight away.”

“Suppose there’s only one way to find out.” Fliss smiled.

So they did. They brought Mary back the next day after school. She had squealed at the window seat, yelled about the pool and as she had shot upstairs and headed into the bedroom Frank had predicted she would like, given a jump for joy as she realised from the upstairs she had a view over the tall picket fencing that shielded the private area of the garden.

“I can see Monty!” she gleefully pointed out before turning to Frank and looking at him then to Fliss, her hands on her hips “If you don’t buy this house you’re a pair of dumbasses.”

The same sentiment was echoed by Bill when he turned up fifteen minutes or so later and walked around with Frank whilst Fliss and Mary headed to feed the horses. He did exactly the same thing he had done when they had looked at the apartment, pointed out what they needed to do, how long it should take them to do, rough estimates of cost. Plus, he also reminded Frank they were in a great position. They could buy the place and then give his months’ notice on the apartment meaning they could stay where they were until it was finished.

So that was it. Decision made. The next morning they went in with a cheeky offer, some twenty thou below the asking price which was rejected instantly. Then they upped their offer by five…then an additional three to total eight, with the fact that they were cash buyers and not in a chain a huge bargaining chip.

It was later that evening, just after they had finished dinner when the realtor called back.

“Evening Mr Adler, ok so…I have spoken to the vendor. He says if you can up your offer by another two thousand then you’ve got a deal.” David spoke. At that, Frank let out a huge grin, as he looked out of the kitchen window at Mary and Fliss who were outside the apartment, both sat on a chair round the table. He and Fliss had both agreed they were prepared to go to the full asking price, in their mind it was worth it, but they were about to seal the deal here for ten thousand less.

“Ok, two thousand more.” Frank said, keeping his voice level “But the property comes off the market as we don’t want anyone else spotting it and offering him more before we exchange contracts.” he repeated word for word what Greg had instructed him to do when he had asked him to handle the conveyancing earlier that morning.

“Ok, so the offer on the table is Three-ten on the proviso he grants exclusivity…” David repeated. “Ok, leave it with me.”

Frank finished loading the dishwasher, and had just grabbed himself a beer when David called back not even five minutes later.

“Congratulations Mr Adler, you have a deal.”

He thanked him, and grinning ear to ear headed outside, jumping down the steps onto the lawn.

“What you looking so pleased about?” Fliss looked up at him suspiciously.

“David called… we’ve settled on three-ten plus exclusivity” he smiled

“What, you mean…” Fliss’ mouth fell open and Frank nodded.

“Yup, subject to contracts, the place is ours!”

Mary gave a loud cheer as Fliss jumped up and leapt at him as he smiled, wrapping her in his arms, swinging her up slightly.

“I can’t believe it…” she whispered. “Our own home!”

Fliss grinned and using the arms that were round his neck pulled his face down to hers and pressed a fierce kiss to his mouth. “God I love you.” she mumbled.

“Love you too.” he grinned, kissing her again, ignoring Mary’s fake puking noises in the background.

*****

June 2019

“Mr Adler?"

Frank stopped as he had been striding over the yard to collect Mary and turned to see Mrs McCarthy, her teacher walking towards him.

"Hi." He smiled, removing his sunglasses so he could look her in the eyes.

"I'm so sorry to bother you"

"No bother at all." He assured her "is everything OK?"

Mrs McCarthy glanced over to where Mary was stood talking to her friend, Rosie, and turned back to him

"Yes...nothing too drastic but I wanted to make you aware about a little incident in class this afternoon"

Frank looked at her, blinking "incident?"

"Maybe that's the wrong word." The older, blonde woman said "Look, as you know next week it's the end of year Gala, the fundraiser and we invite the parents to join us for activities.”

Frank nodded, wishing the woman would get to the damned point. He was hot, dirty and bothered after an afternoon of helping the team on a particularly awkward repair and wanted nothing more than to stand under a cold shower for an hour and flop down outside with a beer.

"Well, one of the girls asked Mary if she was bringing her mom and if they were making anything for the bake sale and Mary rather bluntly told the girl her mother was dead and then clammed up. She didn't speak a word for the rest of the afternoon."

Frank felt his chest tighten as he looked over at Mary who was now giggling with Rosie and sighed

"She didn't do anything wrong" Mrs McCarthy pressed "I was just a little worried."

"Thanks for letting me know, I'll talk to her later, make sure she's okay." Frank assured her.

The woman nodded and headed back across the yard as Frank gave a sharp whistle and slid his aviators back onto his face. Mary looked up and said goodbye to Rosie and came wandering over as Frank waved to Rosie's mom who tossed a hand in greeting in response.

"I'm not Thor" She fixed Frank with a stare.

"I know but I couldn't be bothered walking over." He replied honestly as they climbed into the truck

"You have a good day?"

"It was OK." She shrugged. Frank eyed her for a second before she pulled the car away from the kerb and set off down the road.

"What's for dinner?" Mary asked.

"Steak, baked potatoes and salad." He replies "Fliss' choice."

"Are you grilling?" Mary asked.

"Yup." He nodded

"Cool." Mary nodded "Can I go in the pool before?"

"Got any homework?" Frank countered with another question as he looked at her. Mary shook her head

“End of year next week and Uni didn't give me any summer work."

"Then yeah, of course you can.”

Frank didn't raise the so called incident, deciding to let her chill out a little bit at home first and digest how she felt. After 20 minutes or so of general chat Frank pulled up their driveway and stopped the truck next to Fliss' truck. As they hopped out Mary glanced across the garden over the smaller part of the fence where she could just see Fliss walking across the yard.

"Please can I go see Monty?" She looked at Frank and he nodded.

"I'll watch you." He agreed. With a grin she sprinted over the lawn, climbed over the fence and dropped over onto the other side. Thor gave a bark and Fliss turned round and smiled at her, before she waved at Frank. He waved back before he headed down the side of the house, through the gate in the larger fence before he unlocked the back door and stepped inside the cool air conditioned kitchen, kicking off his shoes and heading straight to the fridge for a beer. Draining half in one he stood, looking around and smiling. They’d finally unpacked the last box yesterday evening and Fliss was still in the process of moving things around their new home, positioning them where she wanted them.

True to Greg’s word, they’d had the keys to the house 4 and a half weeks after making the offer, and 2 weeks post that once the bedrooms and hall had been decorated with a lot of help from Bill, Verity and Roberta (who had been happy for them yet still cried her eyes out when they’d left the park, despite the fact they had assured her they would still come visit and she could also come stay with them too) they’d moved in. The only thing left to do was the reception room (which could wait, it was easy to just shut the door and pretend it didn’t exist) and Bean’s nursery, which he, Fliss and Mary had decided to do together as a project. Mary and Fliss had spent nights pouring over Pinterest for ideas and they’d finally settled on a scheme. Frank had picked up all the plastering supplies and the paint, the furniture was on order and should be arriving at any time that week now he thought about it…so hopefully that weekend they could get cracking. That might cheer Mary up now he thought about it.

Taking his beer with him, he picked up his boots and took them to the cloakroom/bathroom by the stairs. He trudged up the steps, shaking his head at Fred who was led at the top, his paws hanging over the edge of the step as he eyed Frank.

"You're gonna cause a fucking accident." He looked at the ginger cat who merely swished his tail in response. Frank headed into their bedroom, stripping off as he went, walking straight into the en-suite, turning on the shower, setting his beer down on the edge of the sink unit. He stepped in and under the stream of cool water, closing the screen behind him, his mind still on Mary and how he was going to bring up what her teacher has said. With a groan he opened the door, reached out of the cubicle for his beer, took another gulp before he set about washing the grime of the day away.

***** "Have you finished grooming him?" Fliss asked, standing in the doorway to Monty's stable. Mary glanced over from where she had been brushing through his white tail and nodded.

"Wanna take him to the paddock?" Fliss smiled. "Cap and Bronson are waiting for their little pal."

"Sure." Mary shrugged and Fliss frowned a little at her demeanour. She was quiet, which was unlike her when she was round the horses. She was normally full of excitement.

"You OK?" She asked and Mary nodded.

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"You seem quiet, that's all."

"No, I'm good." She shrugged, before she tossed her brush into the little grooming box she had, closing the lid and passing it to Fliss. Fliss placed the box into the larger wooden one outside the stable before Mary put Monty's halter on and led him out of his stall. Fliss allowed them to walk ahead, her hand on her bump as she followed them out of the yard and down the little path to the gate that led to the paddocks. They reached the one were Monty was going and undoing the gate, Mary led him in. The white pony stood patiently for her to take his halter off before he stuck his nose into the crook of her neck and shoulder. Fliss smiled as Mary gently stroked his neck and then to her utter horror she saw Mary’s shoulders begin to shake as the girl started to cry.

"Hey, Mary..." she soothed, stepping forward as the small girl turned to her, wrapping her arms around her as best she could, pressing her face into her bump "Oh baby what's wrong?"

Mary didn’t reply, instead she continued to sob and Fliss felt powerless to do anything other than wrap her arms around her, one hand resting on her head, the other between her shoulders.

“Something happened at School…” Mary whispered and Fliss gently tipped her head up to look at her. “Someone said something and…”

“Ok, how about we go back to the office and you can tell me all about it ok?”

Mary nodded, sniffing as her sobs died down. Fliss held out her hand and Mary took it and together they headed back down to the yard. Joanne looked at Mary who was hiccupping slightly with her sobs and frowned but Fliss shook her head.

“Can you feed the top barn for me and then you can go.” she said to Jo who nodded. “I’ll lock up.” “Sure, see you tomorrow. Bye Mary.” she smiled. Mary looked at her and gave a small wave before Fliss led her into the office. She grabbed them both an apple juice from the fridge and then Mary sat on the chair at the end of the desk, wiping her eyes with a tissue that Fliss handed her from the box.

“You ready to talk?”

Mary nodded, and then she stood up and walked over to Fliss who made room for her to clamber up onto her lap. It was a bit awkward but after a little shifting around they found a way she could sit unobstructed by Boston Bean and Mary lay her head against Fliss’ shoulder.

“It was about the gala.” she sniffed “One of them asked me if my mom was coming and…”

“Oh sweetie.” Fliss sighed, rubbing her back. “I get that must have been hard.”

Mary shrugged “I told them she was dead.” she said matter of factly “I get that and I never knew my mom so I don’t miss her as a person…but then I started to think about why she died and I don’t understand.” “Understand what?”

“Why?” Mary looked at her. “Why would she do what she did when she had me? Why did she want to leave me behind?”

Fliss took a deep breath and cradled the girl as best she could, trying to think of a way to explain to which Mary could relate, and then it came to her, she could use her own experience here. There was no getting around the fact this was going to be a heave conversation, but Mary was a smart kid and deserved to be treated as such.

With another deep inhale, Fliss looked down at her, kissing her head before she opened rather bluntly "You know I tried to kill myself."

"You did?" Mary pulled back to look up at her "Why?"

"Because I saw it as my only way out." Fliss gently smoothing Mary’s hair back. "I was stuck in an awful situation. My ex-husband hurt me physically and mentally and I gave up. I wanted out."

Mary remained silent and looked at her.

"For someone to get to that point...they have to have hit rock bottom. Like there is nowhere to go. It's not their fault. And it doesn't mean they don't love the people they leave behind just that they're desperate to escape whatever pain they feel, be it in their head or their body or both."

"But I still don't understand." Mary shook her head.

"And you may never, not fully." Fliss sighed gently "And as horrible as it is that's something you are gonna have to live with but you have to remember that your mom was sick. And for whatever reason she saw this as her only escape. It wasn't Evelyn's fault, it wasn't Frank's fault and it certainly wasn't yours."

"But if she loved me like Frank says she did..."

"You think I don't love my mum and dad? Or Steve? Charlie, Joel?"

Mary blinked before she lay her head back against Fliss' shoulder. "Of course you do.”

"But I was still gonna leave them behind. I was desperate. And you wanna know the real stupid thing?"

"What?"

"When I got better I still went back to John. I went back to a real toxic environment and a man that abused me. Because I felt like it was what I deserved. And even though I left him way before I met you and Frank, it wasn't until me and Frank started dating that I really understood I wasn't to blame. I always thought I did something to make him hurt me but I didn't. Being with Frank, the way he treats me and loves me made me see that it was him with the problem, not me.”

"But that's different" Mary glanced up

"The trigger was, yes." Fliss nodded "But your mom, like me, was in a position so helpless, so unbelievably sad that she thought she was to blame and that the world, including you, would be better off without her even though she was so wrong."

**** Once showered and dried, Frank dressed in a pair of shorts and clean T-shirt before he headed back downstairs. There was no sign of Fliss or Mary but as he strode out into the garden he heard a car heading down the drive by the side of the house from the yard and correctly assumed it was Joanne leaving for the day. He opened the gate and just saw the tail of her car turn onto the main road as he headed into the garage for the charcoal to light the BBQ.

Once that was done, leaving the flames to die down he headed out across the lawn, vaulting over the small fence onto the yard. He headed round the barn and frowned as he couldn't see anyone. After a quick look round he spotted the door to Fliss' office was closed. He went to open it but stopped as he could hear the sound of voices. It was Mary and Fliss but he could tell from the pitch and stutters in Mary's that she was upset. He paused, hand hovering over the handle as he heard Fliss speaking to her softly. "Stack, you are so loved. Frank loves you, I love you, Nanny V, Poppa Bill, Uncle Steeby, Roberta, Evelyn...Thor, Fred and Monty..." she paused "You're such a special little girl and I know I'm not your mom but, well, I feel like I am."

"You do?"

"I'd do anything to keep you safe and happy. And so would Frank"

They both fell silent and Frank swallowed, the lump in his throat almost choking him.

"Don't ever feel like we don't" Fliss continued "and if I have to bake 200 fucking cookies for your Gala next week to prove it then I will."

Mary giggles "You know Bean can hear you swearing."

"Well I won't tell Frank if you don't"

"Do you think Frank feels like my dad?" Mary asked a moment later and at that point Frank really wanted to walk away. He couldn't listen to this, he didn't want to listen to this...but something kept him rooted to the spot.

"I know he does." Fliss replied.

"But he doesn't like it when people say it. I know that, I heard him talking to you. Bill’s not your real dad but you still say he is…."

“That’s slightly different sweetheart.” Fliss sighed "My real dad left my mom before I was born, so when he died. I didn’t even know him and I don’t care that I didn’t either. But your mom was Frank's sister. He wants to make sure you remember her, understand who she was. He could have easily just pretended to be your dad all this time, you would never have known any different but he didn't. Because he loves you and your mom too much. He's too honest and it’s important to him that you understand. But that doesn't mean he doesn't love you like he is your dad, or that you can't love him like he is."

Frank turned away from the door, looking up at the sky and taking a deep shuddering breath. Fuck, this was hard to hear. He knew Mary had been upset before but the thought that it ran this deep was killing me. Wiping at his face, his hands then dropped to his hips and he looked down at his sneakers before he turned to the door, reaching for the handle but once more pausing as he couldn’t face interrupting them, not whilst they were in the middle of a moment.

“I suppose that makes sense.” Mary continued “And I do love him like he is. And I love you like you’re my mom too.”

“Well that’s all that matters.” Fliss replied “It may be unconventional but we’re a family, and that’s the main thing huh?”

“Yeah, you’re right. Thanks Lissy.” Mary spoke.

“You’re welcome Stack” Fliss’s voice was soft and there was a pause as Frank could picture the pair of them hugging.

“Hey, did you now I’m going to be doing all the money stuff for the bake stall?” Mary’s voice was suddenly up beat as she switched topic “Because I’m good at maths they said I could be in charge of payments and handing people their change and stuff.”

“Nice work kiddo.” Fliss smiled, “Tell you what, we’ll put Nanny V on the case, her baking is way better than mine. We can get her over one night next week whilst Pops is helping Frank with the plastering in the nursery.”

Ok, that was it, safe to enter without interrupting anything. Frank gave a little knock and then opened the door, fixing a smile on his face.

“Hope I haven’t interrupted any girl talk” he smiled and Mary jumped up and ran to him, giving him a hug. He looked at Fliss who wiped her eyes.

“Ok?” he mouthed at her and she nodded back, her lips moving silently as she replied.

“Tell you later.”

“BBQ is lit.” Frank said, looking down at Mary “You still wanna play in the pool?”

She nodded and grinned. “Yeah.”

“Sounds like a great idea.” Fliss grinned “Let’s lock up and head home…oh wait, we don’t need to head home because…” “We’re already there!” Mary grinned, and then she spun round to see Fred peering round the door. “Hey, look who came to visit!” “Bout time he earned his keep.” Frank grumbled “Go catch some mice.”

Fred stalked past him into the office, looked around, before he sauntered back out, clearly not interested.

“He’s a lover not a killer Frank.” Mary grinned, as Frank watched the cat walk off into the evening sun.

The three of them locked up before they headed back to the house and Mary shot upstairs to get changed.

“So, how much did you hear?” Fliss turned to Frank as he pulled a beer from the fridge along with a bottle of water, sliding it over to her.

“Enough.” he sighed “Her teacher collared me before. Said that one of the kids had asked about her mom in class and she’d gotten upset.”

“She asked me why Diane did what she did.” Fliss sighed, “Why she left her behind if she loved her so much.”

Frank swallowed. “What did you say?”

“I explained about why I tried to kill myself.” Fliss shrugged “Told her about the desperation I felt…but that didn’t mean that I didn’t love my family just that I saw it as my only way out. I know it was heavy and maybe not really the right thing to do but...”

She was cut off as Frank stepped forward, taking her face in his hands as he kissed her, hard. It took her a moment to catch up but once she did she melted into him, her mouth opening to grant him access as he ran his tongue along her bottom lip.

“Thank you.” He said gently as he pulled away, his hands still cupping her face.

“What for?” Fliss asked, reaching up to gently wrap her fingers around his wrists.

“For loving her as much as you do.” he shrugged. “For loving us both as much as you do.”

“Oh, Sailor.” Fliss’ eyes brimmed with tears “How could I not?”

***** Frank didn’t sleep particularly well that night. Mary’s conversation with Fliss was running through his brain and every time he drifted off he would wake about an hour or so later, fresh worries and concerns running through his mind. In the end, at just before 5 am he gave up and climbed out of bed. He grabbed a T-shirt and a pair of sweats and putting them on he headed downstairs. He flipped on the TV in the hope the early morning new would distract him, but it didn’t.

It was clear to him that Mary was struggling with where she was going to fit in the family dynamic. He hadn’t really worried much up to that point, being convinced by Fliss that if they kept her involved with stuff to do with Bean she would be ok but this went much deeper than the fact they were expecting a baby.

He’d be lying if he said the thought of him claiming to be Mary’s Father had never entered his mind. It would have been a lot easier but out of loyalty and love to Diane he had wanted to make sure she knew about her mother, and understood the truth because in the end, a lie would always come round to bite you on the ass. It wasn’t that he had a problem with people assuming he was Mary’s father but…

God what a fucking mess.

“Hey…” a soft voice drew him from his thoughts and he looked up to see Fliss stood in the doorway, his T-shirt she was wearing now hardly covered the top of her thighs thanks to her Bean bump.

“Sorry beautiful, did I wake you?” he asked.

“No.” she shook her head, dropping down next to him. “I got up to pee and you were gone.”

“Couldn’t sleep.” he shrugged.

“What’s wrong handsome?” she lay her head on his shoulder and he took a deep breath.

“Just thinking about Mary that’s all.” he shrugged. “She’s always asked questions about Diane but not like that.”

“She’s getting older Frank.” Fliss said, her hand reaching out for his as she began to play with his fingers “She’s bound to start thinking about things differently. She was ok last night after she talked to me, and then later you when you tucked her in. She doesn’t keep her feelings bottled up, and that’s good. It’s a testament to you that she feels like she can talk to us about things.”

“I know.” Frank looked down at her, kissing her head “I guess I just worry Lissy, worry about how she’s gonna feel when Bean is here and he’s calling us mom and dad and she doesn’t.”

“Frank.” Fliss sighed as she sat up straight. “Mary knows we love her. And what she calls us doesn’t change a damned thing. You’re worrying unduly now. We can’t do anything about that other than-“

“Yes, yes we could.” Frank looked at her. Fliss took a deep breath as his eyes locked onto hers, instantly understanding.

“I thought you said you’d never even consider adopting her?”

“I never thought I would.” he shrugged. “But it’s been playing on my mind after what mother said and then after last night…” “Why? What did Evelyn say?” Fliss asked.

“When she was here last, she told me that Diane’s memory wouldn’t suddenly fade if Mary called me dad…” he licked his lips “It was almost like she was giving me permission to do it…you know? Not that I need it or really give a shit what she thinks.” he paused, taking a deep breath “If I’m totally honest Diane isn’t the only reason I said I didn’t want to. I just never thought of myself as being dad material. I was such a screw up until I met you and I thought that by staying as her Uncle, it would give her that distance, you know?”

“Not dad material?” Fliss looked at him, shaking her head “Oh Frank, you idiot. You’ve done an amazing job with her…and you will do with Bean too.”

He smiled at her, sniffing slightly as she continued.

“But there is one person who’s opinion counts most here.” Fliss said gently “And that’s Mary. If you’re serious then you should ask her if it’s what she wants. Because after 9 years of calling you Frank…”

“I know.” Frank agreed, “And I agree, completely. It would have to be her decision. But at least if I ask her if she would like us to then-“

“Us?” Fliss looked at him, blinking. “You mean you want me to?”

“Of course I do.” Frank nodded, before he frowned slightly “But if that isn’t what you want, I understand. It’s a big-“ Fliss cut him off by pressing a kiss to his lips “Of course I do Frank. I love Mary like she is my own anyway so…” Frank beamed at her and wrapped his arms around her, kissing her head. “So, we’re agreed. We ask her?”

Fliss nodded and pulled back, her hand resting on his cheek. “We ask her.”

Chapter 8

#riding on #frank adler #frank adler x ofc #frank adler x oc #gifted #gifted fan fic #chris evans #chris evans characters

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georgescatcafe · 4 years ago

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vermillion — 1

rating: t warning/s: period-typical homophobia pairing/s: georgenap genres/tags: cowboy x city boy au, rancher sapnap, rich george, coming of age, slow burn word count: 3,152 summary: When Sapnap gets sent into the city to get quick cash for his family’s struggling ranch, he’s not expecting much from the experience—lights aren't very blinding when held up to the Sun, and he's not exactly there to play around. But then he meets George, a boy built on money, who quickly sweeps in not just paying customers but also Sapnap, leading him into what any ruddy country boy would call the mouth of the Devil: high society. Cue a summer spent by each other’s side while feelings run unbidden, uncaring of deadlines and restraints.

It should be enough for the pair—and for awhile, it is, right up until it isn’t.

+ao3 +masterpost

;;

PART I

1994

Going to the city alone isn’t too different from going with his Pa. The drive there is mild, skies blue, sunny, fields on both sides of his muddied pickup stretching out endless and golden, ready to be cut down. Nick is sixteen now, old enough to head to the market on his own, license shiny and new, brain bright and sharp. He’s been preparing for this, and now it’s time for him to show off what he knows.

He had thought the 80s were bad, his dad cursing some figurative Big Man (Nick’s pretty sure he just meant the government) and constantly pushing hard on the ranch to make ends meet. They aren’t farmers, their neighbors having it way harder than they could, but it was rough, and it’s still rough—everything is so expensive, so now Nick is their last hope, Pa working the ranch, son sent off to the city to try and get some immediate cash. It’s hard to deny freshly cut steaks.

They’ve got horses too, pretty ones, some sold to be racers, but mostly pretty ones. Nick’s been planning to propose they start some summer thing, parents bringing their kids to the ranch to ride the horses, get the wind in their hair from something other than a car with its windows down. Not this year, though. (The highway sign tells him his exit is in two miles. Nick focuses back on the road.) This year, he’s busy.

;;

Pulling into the market’s parking lot, Nick doesn’t feel blinded. Really, opening the truck door finds him with a lungful of stink, and his thoughts are drowned out by the honking of horns and shouting of pedestrians. He thinks he hears a bell tower in the distance—does this city have a college?—but he can’t be sure.

It’s nothing glamorous.

Rounding his truck, he gets the coolers out the back, gets the papers too, lists of cows they’ve got, some horses, sheep, goats. Pa wants to get rid of them, but Ma likes to make sweaters. The sheep can be costly, but sweaters cost others, so Nick guesses it all balances out. They’re not getting rid of any chickens this year, but Nick’s two coolers definitely have some plucked birds. He blinks, remembering the eggs. He’s got some of those to sell too, and they don’t even need to be refrigerated. He’ll get them later.

Finding his shop is easy. The signs pointing out where everything is are all done in a looping, confusing cursive, so Nick forgoes reading them to just follow the sight of flannel and the smell of smoking meat. And there it is. A booth, the sign above it not in cursive (thank God) and declaring the name of their ranch in bold. Once Nick’s got all his things in place, he comes to stand proudly at it. PAPPAS RANCH above, Nick Pappas below.

Things go a lot slower after that. People don’t really flock to him, people don’t even come up to him. If anyone does, it’s at a meandering pace, like the wind might’ve pushed them more than them deciding to look. It’s a little humiliating, but Nick does his best to sell what he can. He’s not really concerned about the meat, and the animals are all still alive and fine on the ranch, but he is concerned about cash, and he knows they need it. Customers are vital. There just… aren’t any.

He leans back on his heels, surveying the marketplace. It’s quaint, kind of cute. Not as rugged and rough as the one in town, more proper-looking. To be expected. He people-watches. The people are people. No one is particularly interesting. Another customer is blown towards him. Nick sells them a couple twelve-ounce filets. He pays a little more attention after that.

Still, that’s the only big purchase he gets, and he tries not to let it sit on his mind too heavily when he heads back to his truck, coolers and folder and cash in hand. The night is warm, and he’s grateful for it when he settles in the bed of his pickup. In hope of saving some money, he’d turned down his parents’ offers of a hotel, the reluctance of giving up cash clear on his dad’s face anyway, so now Nick is left to sleep in his truck bed, surrounded by coolers and tarp and blankets. When he rolls over, he winces. He’d put the cash in a little safe then tucked that little safe under his makeshift bed. It sticks out uncomfortably underneath him. Oh well. He literally made his bed. Now he’s lying in it.

;;

Morning comes before he’s ready for it, and he finds himself glaring at the Sun as it creeps over the horizon, taunting him with cotton candy skies and sweet birdsong. The night wasn’t much better, with the safe in his back, with the city still awake long after the market closed. Despite his exhaustion from the drive, from standing, sleep did not come easily, and Nick feels the effects of that as he sets up shop all over again, goes to the market’s little bathroom installed down the way to change clothes, to splash water on his face. He groans when he remembers his toothbrush, still in his truck. He goes to get it anyway.

So, his start is a little slow, so what? Nick ties his bandana tighter around his head when he reaches his booth, double-checking his inventory before smiling at the woman who runs the booth across from his. She tips her hat at him in return.

There’s more people coming around today, which is good, and it makes sense. It’s a Thursday, which, while it isn’t the weekend, it’s getting there, and Nick eagerly anticipates it.

He makes a deal for one of their cows, sells some filets, some chicken thighs and veal—it’s a better day. He’s hesitant to call it good.

;;

Like the day before, Friday comes bright and early, uncomfortably so. He climbs out of his truck, gets his things—the whole rinse, wash, repeat. And then he’s back at his booth, saying hello to the woman across, again she tips her hat, and he’s drumming his fingers on the tabletop.

Nothing.

Nick takes a breath, holds it, lets it out. Things are fine. He’s fine. Rome wasn’t built in a day; Pappas Ranch doesn’t sell their entire inventory in two. It’s fine.

It’s still early, a whole day ahead, and though Nick braces himself for disappointment, he tries not to let it show, still standing tall beneath the sign above his booth. He just needs to be approachable, smile, be the charming boy his Pa raised him to be.

It works when two women walk by, mother and daughter, probably, arms linked, the two of them chatting only to stop at Nick’s booth, the mother smiling politely at him and daughter waving. “We’re having guests over tonight,” the mother says.

“How many?” Nick asks. And the deal goes through.

And it works with an older man, eating only for himself, but wanting to stock up for the weekend. A full guys’ thing. But it’s just him. Nick tells him he gets it, and he’s a few chickens shorter, a rack of lamb ribs gone.

It’s around lunch that things slow down, leaving Nick mildly surprised, but not entirely annoyed, as he uses his own pocket change to get some fruit from a farmer in another section, and an elderly woman three booths down gives him a little bit of smoked pork free of charge. It’s a meager, but good lunch. He’s leaning up against the wall, apple in hand, surveying the business still going on, when he spies someone who looks his age, hair a dark brown, eyes the same, dressed a bit more upscale for a market, even if this market is in the city. Nick pushes himself off the wall when the boy makes his way over to him. It’s a very deliberate walk, and Nick stands straighter for it, not showing off or anything, more like sizing up the competition—the competition for or on what, only Nick’s subconscious knows.

“Pappas Ranch,” the boy reads, and Nick almost laughs at the accent coloring his words. “Are you Papa?”

And the question is so reasonable yet so absurd, spun wonky with the accent, that it makes Nick laugh and reply with a name not quite right either: “Nah, I’m Sapnap.”

It’s such an… outdated name, given to him as a kid by an enthusiastic pen pal and then latched onto by his parents, fading out of fashion the moment he hit double-digits, when he started working his way up the ranch. The name is dumb too, zero sense without context, still stupid even with it, and he feels every bit of its stupidity when the boy studies him, unamused.

“Sapnap?” The word comes slow off his tongue, and Nick resists the urge to flush a bright red.

“Yeah, what about it?” He plants his feet firmer in the ground, wanting to shift from foot to foot but refusing. Refuses to take back the name too.

“Sounds dumb.”

Nick stutters out some excuse that falls flat before straightening. “What’s your name then, hotshot?”

“George,” and oh, isn’t that hilarious? Talk about outdated.

“My name might be stupid, but at least it isn’t lame as hell!”

George, of course, doesn’t like that, and that fact makes Nick grin, eyes growing wild when George grips the edge of the table between them to lean forward. “Fuck off.” Their noses nearly touch.

“This is my booth,” Nick replies.

“My city,” George shoots back, and Nick stops himself from rolling his eyes.

“It’s a city.” Nick raises a brow when George merely huffs, leaning against the booth. He spies the apple in Nick’s hand, and Nick fights back the urge to hide it, possessive. “What?” It’s his lunch. What about it? Workers eat too. Not that someone like George would know that. Nick gives him a cursory once over that George ignores, still focused on the fruit.

“Where’d you get that?” George asks. “It looks fresh.”

“It is,” Nick points towards the booth he got it from, “over there. Everything here is fresh, dumbass.”

“What time is it?”

“Noon, I reckon.”

George studies him, still leaning against the booth, head coming closer and closer to Nick’s the longer he stares. “Your lunch?” Both of his hands now press down on the table between them, fingers splayed. His nails are short but nice. Nick’s have dirt under them. He holds his apple tighter.

“Yeah. What about it?”

“Come with me,” George says, and Nick frowns as George moves away from the booth to nod his head towards the main road. “You can take a break.”

“Not really,” Nick wants to reply (break? Lunch was his break. He’s got to work!), but then George pivots and starts walking away, and he can’t have that, so he follows. “My stuff—”

“Will be safe, chill out,” George tells him. He glances behind and meets Nick’s eyes. Nick wonders if the other will crash into any of the various obstacles around them, booths, pedestrians, goods, fucking rocks in the walkway or something, but he doesn’t, just keeps walking. Part of Nick hopes he crashes. Wants to see him trip, fall, ruin his pants—they’re fancy, clean with those pressed lines down the middle. In the middle of the market, however upscale, they look stupid as hell. To see the knees covered in dust, caked in dirt, it’d make Nick pretty happy. He smiles at the image, and George, though brows end up quirked in confusion, offers a smile back.

Nick stumbles, a direct opposite to his imagination, but it’s because it’s not the city that’s blinding—it’s George’s smile. He blinks, glances behind himself; does George have a particularly white smile? Artificial, does George reap the benefits of being rich? Does the sun glint off those bleached teeth? But the Sun is still high overhead. And George’s teeth were white, but not white enough to be fake. Nick shakes his head, not wanting to get caught up in the thoughts, merely following after the other still. They’re out past the market now, heading deeper into the city. Delicatessens, bakeries, designer shops, and corner stores line the road, and Nick stares into the windows of them all with rapt attention. Sapnap, that’s what he told George his name was, and maybe here he is: Sapnap, someone else, someone new, someone who could walk by George’s side like it’s where he’s been his whole life, like the city is all he knows.

Looking at the elite walking by, Nick knows it wouldn’t be sustainable, not for him, but just for a bit, he can pretend. He glances over at George, who walks on ahead, easy, unassuming if not for the sun in his hair, spinning it into gold, unassuming if not for the set of his shoulders, the quiet confidence with which he carries himself. Carefully, he attempts to imitate the other.

They walk for another few minutes, and Nick is starting to worry about his things, about whether he’ll make it back in time for the after-school rush, the dinner rush, the weekend—when George finally stops and pushes open the door of a restaurant named something Nick can’t pronounce.

“Is that French?” he asks George.

“Yeah,” George replies, “I can’t pronounce it, though.”

“I thought all rich people knew French,” Nick says.

“Next state over,” George tells him. “Or in the east maybe. I’m taking Spanish.”

“My cousin knows Creole.” George hums before smiling at the host and asking for a table for two. The fancy atmosphere, however much a consequence of location and George’s upbringing, the host’s look over George’s shoulder at Nick, table for two—all of it sends Nick’s skeleton rattling, bones shaking and shivering under layers of skin and muscle, his brain easily equating these things to a date. But George isn’t like that. He’s just fancy. And Nick isn’t like that either. This is just what rich people do in the city. What everyone does in the city. They get lunch.

When they’re seated, Nick tugs at his collar. He’s not hot, but God, has he grown uncomfortable. He’s got dirt behind his knees he’s sure, and when he speaks it’s not that smooth, sweet voice George has got, and the slight beard he’s finally started to get only makes him all the scruffier. He’s a fish out of water, and he’s growing more and more certain it shows.

“Sapnap,” George says, “are you alright?”

And oh. Right. He’s not Nick. To George, he’s Sapnap, and George is taking Sapnap to lunch, which means he thinks Sapnap is able to be seen in a place like this, if not alone then with George, so it’s fine. Nick’s hand falls from his shirt to the table, where it curls around napkin-wrapped cutlery. “Yeah,” he replies, “I’m fine. Uh. Can you read this menu?”

“It’s in English, Sapnap.” George’s tone is dry, but it’s a joke, and his eyes squint with his smile. Nick smiles back.

;;

Despite their smiles, despite sharing a meal, they don’t get along. Nick wants to help provide for lunch, but he also can’t, not really, so they argue over that, and they argued over what to get too, because Nick is a firm believer in trying everything so let’s just split stuff, George, but George is apparently a possessive little bitch, so his idea was continually shot down, but then when a waitress came by, George ordered what Nick had suggested, so they argued over that, and when they left, George argued for a treat and Nick argued that he had to get back to work.

Nick won that one, but George stuck by his side as they traced their steps to the market.

Despite their inability to get along, they become what Nick thinks might just be friends.

“If I lost all my shit ‘cause of you,” Nick starts, but George just rolls his eyes. And when they reach his booth, it’s fine, like George had said it’d be, but Nick does lament the lost customers in the time spent out. He still has an afternoon ahead, but he still took off way more time than he’d have liked.

“It’s fine,” George tells him, hopping up onto the front little ledge of the booth. “I’ll help you sell it, or something.”

“You don’t have anywhere to be?” Nick asks him, checking his inventory one more time, just to make certain nothing’s been stolen.

George shakes his head, kicking his feet slightly, not stopping even when it makes the booth begin to sway. Nick steadies it with a careful hand, and George sends him a grateful look, though he still kicks his feet. “It’s summer.” He watches as Nick pulls out a chunk of meat, chuck, drops it onto the proper counter set up behind the pretty covering the booth makes, and sets about cutting it into pieces. “Nothing to do.”

“For you,” Nick says.

“For me,” George agrees.

Nick fixes up the beef, thinking about the restaurant, the roast he saw somewhere on the menu—that’s what people’ll use this meat for, he’s getting creative—and leans back, fingers curling around the countertop. “So what exactly are you proposing?”

George shrugs. “I can get you good food; I can advertise good food. You can cut what will one day be good food and keep the cash.”

“You’d do this for no pay?” Nick asks.

George tilts his head back, exposing the long column of his throat. Nick watches as sunlight catches his skin; George hadn’t seemed to sweat much, but now Nick sees where it’s damp on his skin, the light making it shimmer. Nick looks away. It didn’t look gross. George finally lowers his head. He doesn’t look gross. “I don’t need it,” George says. “And I’m not stupid. My dad works with some people from the city stockyard. You need the cash, don’t you?”

Nick fights back the urge to make a face. “Yeah. Did you remember that before or after you made me get lunch with you?”

George at least looks a little guilty. Nick takes what he can get. “Look,” George finally says, “I’m not terrible at marketing. And I know what people here want. Can you really say no?”

He can. Nick could say no and tell George to leave. Could say no and thanks, but lunch actually sucked (it didn’t). He could say a number of things that would get rid of George’s company.

He doesn’t.

“Just don’t get in my way, okay?” He and George lock eyes. George nods. Nick tightens his grip on the counter, surveys the steadily crowding market. “So who’re you going to reel in first, hotshot?”

;;

#snf vermillion #georgenap #sapnotfound #snf #fic #fanfiction

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what-is-your-plan-today · 4 years ago

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Riding On Ch7: Home, Sweet Home!

Summary: Frank and Fliss find their perfect family home, but there’s something bothering Mary.

Warnings: Bad Language words. Discussions about suicide. A little bit of angst.

Pairing: Frank Adler x Fliss Gallagher

A/N: This is a bit of an emotionally charged filler chapter…and we move time on a little through to June in the middle. And photos of the Adler house are included so you can visualise what I used for inspiration! Chapter Song: Kill For A Dream by Beady Eye

Series Masterlist // WIYPT Masterlist

You’re giving it another try, staring at the deep blue sky, and you say to the driver just drive, coz you never felt so alive.

April 2019

“No, I mean yes! I’ve just heard some awesome news!”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, so you remember the guy that bought the house that backs onto the yard when Old Man River died…” “That wasn’t his name.” Frank chuckled “It was Mr Morris.”

“He called himself River, it was funny and suited him. Anyway, that’s not the point. You know the guy who bought it…guess what I found out before?”

Frank stopped what he was doing and straightened up. He didn’t like that dick, one bit. When Mr Morris had died at the start of the year, Fliss had been quite upset about the news as the old man had been very friendly to her, often popping in for a cup of tea a few afternoons a week for some company. Mr Morris’ son had sold the house without them even knowing it had gone on the market, which was a shame as it would have been perfect for them given the location. The guy who had bought it, Frank didn’t even know his name, nor did he care because he was a douchebag and a pervert to boot. The way he looked at Fliss made Frank want to punch his face in.

“What’s Douchey Mc Douchebag done now?”

Frank laughed loudly “Couldn’t have happened to a nicer guy, babe!”

Ok now he was interested. Frank could picture the look of excitement on her face as she spoke to him and he felt the smile cross his face “No shit?”

“Yeah, I’ll send you the website to look at the photos but…oh God, it would be perfect! Some of it is really nice, some of it needs decorating but…” “Ok, well, why don’t you call the realtor? Arrange a viewing” he said “Hopefully you won’t puke halfway round this one.” “Ok, first off that wasn’t my fault. Bean objected to the smell. Who the fuck cooks eggs the day they know they have someone coming to view their house?” her indignant tone made Frank chuckle “And second off…”she paused “I already did. He said he can meet us at half 12.”

“Half 12? As in lunch time? Today?” Frank frowned.

“I know I just really don’t want to miss out on this one Frank, and you said you were gonna come up here for lunch and-”

“Ok, ok.” Frank sighed “I’ll shuffle some stuff around, work a little later tonight and take an extra half hour.”

“I love you.” she replied and he could hear the smile in her voice.

“Good job I love you too.” he said back gruffly “Because you’re a pain in my ass.”

“You ok Frank?”

He looked up and smiled as Alan, his boss walked in to the office. “Yeah, sorry, Fliss has found a house and managed to book a viewing for lunch time. Fucking 7th one in 2 weeks.”

Alan snorted “Keeping you on your toes I see?”

“Huh.” Alan smiled “Sounds like it was meant to be. Take it you’re going then?”

“Yeah, Charlie and Gary are in all afternoon. I thought I could take an extra half hour, work it back tonight or…” “Frank, when was the last time you actually took a full hour for your lunch and didn’t cut it short by 10 or 15?” Alan looked at him.

Frank hesitated “Yeah, but that’s-”

“No buts.” Alan shook his head. “Do what you gotta do.”

“Thanks Alan.” Frank smiled, “I appreciate it.”

Alan waved away his gratitude before he dropped into the chair on the opposite side of Frank’s small desk and gestured for Frank to sit down.

“I wanted to talk to you in person.” Alan said, “Before the news gets out. I’m looking at retiring Frank, fully this time.”

“That’s good news, for you I mean.” Frank smiled, taking his seat. “You must be happy?”

“Kinda bitter sweet.” he shrugged “But I hit 70 this year and bout time I let it all go. Bill’s already chomping at the bit to book damned fishing trips so...it’ll be nice to step back. But I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Shoot.”

“My son, James is going to be taking over, that won’t come as any surprise to you as you’ve seen him knocking around a bit and he likes you.”

“Good to know I’m not going to be out on my ass.” Frank smiled, breathing out a little.

Frank blinked “You wanna make me deputy manager?”

“Wow, I err…” Frank shook his head “I don’t know what to say.” “I don’t need an answer now.” Alan said, “Take some time to consider it. Talk it over with Fliss.”

“I will, I’ll give it some thought.” “Ok, well, that’s all I dropped in for.” Alan said, standing up, groaning a little “Did you just hear my damned knees click?”