#might get a pair of slippers for outside my room actually | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

purple-babygirl · 9 months ago

Text

my bucky?

Pairing: Mafia!Bucky Barnes x f!reader (reader is little in the very beginning)

Word count: 7,390

Summary: Bucky's angel finally sees the hidden side of him.

Warnings: details of violence, kidnapping, getting shot, physical abuse by kidnappers, slapping, too much crying, angst

A/N: to all the nonnies that came to me once and asked "what if angel saw bucky beating someone up?" "what if angel gets kidnapped?", this is for you💜 i hope you have a good time with this one, loves x💜

Whenever he’d think of her, he’d think of jasmines. Soft, fragrant, pure-looking, fragile, beautiful jasmines. Like jasmines, she released her sweet perfume engulfed by the darkness of his night. Only he got to bask in her aroma. And like a jasmine in autumn, he’d fallen for her evergreen soul and he’d fallen hard.

Bucky knew she saw him through a pink lens. She ate up his lies like candy and although he felt bad, he knew it was for the best. He could visibly see her running out the door whenever he’d imagine someone opening her eyes to how cruel he actually was. It was selfish, but it was easier for him and safer for her this way. Better for both of them.

Luck wasn’t exactly his best friend though.

Bucky would never forget the look in her innocent, teary eyes as she watched him literally beat the life out of a man with all his might. He knew it was fairly stupid of him to do it in the back of his own garage, right next to his house where she was peacefully getting ready to call it a night. But he just couldn’t hold back when he saw the guy’s dumb face when his men brought him in.

“Miss?” She found Roseanne by the door, looking more nervous than usual.

She was shocked, no, terrified at the scene she couldn’t take her eyes away from. How and why was she even here in the first place?

Daddy said he’d be back for story time but he hasn’t been back yet. What was taking him so long?

She couldn’t fall asleep if his voice wasn’t lolling her to sleep. She couldn’t fall asleep if it wasn’t in his arms. Life without him just didn’t make sense anymore.

She got out of bed, slipped in her fluffy cat slippers and went on a little quest to find him. Bucky was always happy to see her so he’d forgive her for getting out of bed where he’d expected her to wait.

“Roseanne, have you seen my Bucky?” she asked with a smile.

“I think he’s busy right now, miss. You better wait in your room where it’s warm,” Roseanne tried to tempt her, using the cold as a good reason why she shouldn’t go outside where Bucky was.

The young woman looked distressed, like she was scared of something.

“What’s wrong, Roseanne? Is daddy okay?” she questioned the poor maid, her smile leaving her face.

“Yes, miss. Don’t worry. He’s just a little busy but he’ll be here soon.”

“Is he in the office?”

“I— I don’t know, miss. I think he is,” Roseanne lied.

She tilted her head suspiciously before running to the office to check it out, leaving Roseanne’s pleads for her to get back to the bedroom behind.

It seemed even more suspicious now that Bucky was nowhere to be seen in his office. It didn’t feel right and she had to find Bucky and make sure he was okay. Bucky always knew how to calm all her worries. He knew what to do and what to say.

Bucky protects her and is here for her.

But wait a minute, she didn’t hear his car leave. And if the car didn’t leave then Daddy was certainly in the house, she just missed him while looking.

She roamed the whole mansion, up and down, checking every room twice and she still couldn’t find her daddy.

Her mind was getting cloudier and she was getting more scared. Did daddy leave? Where would he go without letting her know that he’d be leaving? Why didn’t he kiss her forehead goodnight before leaving?

She made her way outside the main door and took sure steps to the large garage, once again taking no regard of Roseanne’s begging, confident in her smart train of thought.

When she arrived at the garage though, the pants she heard startled her to a halt as she ducked behind the black Range Rover.

Was that really Bucky? Her Bucky? Beating up a man to the point where his features weren’t recognizable anymore? That wasn’t possible. Her daddy was a sweetheart. He was the gentlest man she’s ever met and he wouldn’t hurt anyone like that. She knew he was feared because of his work, but he couldn’t kill anyone. Could he?

She peeked around and fell silent as a rock. The sight before her made her feel cold, leaving her poor mind perplexed.

On the first look, she couldn’t fathom what she was looking at. She wanted to look away. She did. But she couldn’t will her head to turn even just a little.

“How stupid do you have to be to think I wouldn’t know you were sent here to hurt my girl?”

A stronger pang hit her little heart when she realized this was happening because of her.

No, this was no bad dream though she’d hoped with all her heart that it was.

She’d made Daddy promise that he wouldn’t hurt anybody on her behalf. He’d promised to choose forgiveness if it was an option. It didn’t make any sense.

Was she too sleepy that she was seeing things? Did her little mind fall asleep without a story anyway and she was having a nightmare?

Sam had seen her first, wide eyes tearing up at the sight of her man smashing another’s face with his fist. He’d tried to tell Bucky, but it was too late. She’d already seen it all.

Those fingers that have ever so tenderly glided across her cheeks time and time again were hidden behind brass knuckles, covered in someone’s blood. That jaw that has only ever tensed from smiling too much around her was clenched, making him look scarier than she could’ve ever imagined him to be. His eyebrows were furrowed and his breaths heavy as he repeatedly and ruthlessly punched the man on the chair.

Her fear intensified when she’d recognized the beaten up man as their newest driver. She remembered him trying to repeatedly ask her if she wanted to go get ice cream with him when Bucky wasn’t home. She also remembered saying no like she was taught. She remembered Bucky promising to choose forgiveness if it was an option again and she saw him break his promise.

“Bucky, enough!” Sam pulled him away from the tied up guy, head nodding to the black vehicle.

Her head went dizzy when she thought of all the men she’d complained to Bucky about since they’d started their relationship. Have they all faced the same fate?

Who was this heaving, bloody-fisted beast before her? Did she ever know Bucky at all? Was he ever truthful about anything he’d told her or was it all just a big lie? How could she trust him with herself ever again? Who was her daddy really?

The walls around Bucky collapsed and he almost collapsed with them when he saw her face. She was there and she’d seen everything. His angel saw it all. His angel was scared. She was scared of him.

“Angeră?”

Her legs no longer wanted to hold her up once she heard his hoarse voice. The air was out of her lungs as she took slow steps back until she pressed herself to one of the grey walls behind her. The stuffie in her hands fell to the ground and with it her heart.

She wanted to run, but her cold body wouldn’t budge. Maybe if she could go back to the house right now, listen to Roseanne, stay in bed, and pretend this never happened, Bucky would miraculously come back with a perfectly healed, clean hand and they would peacefully have a cuddling session while his loving voice told her a story.

“Please don’t hurt me,” she begged, her voice above a whisper as she cowered away from him.

Bucky carefully walked closer, visibly watching her hands tremble. He raised his clean hand to caress her cheek like he always would when she needed him to calm her down.

He wasn’t expecting her to lean into his touch like she was used to, but it still shot daggers to his heart when she flinched, closing her eyes in fear and letting out the tiniest whimper.

“Angel, I’m not gonna hurt you,” Bucky’s broken voice had her heart clenching as she saw him trying to muster up a smile.

“Stay away from me,” she said in panic when he tried to take another step towards her.

“Angeră—”

“Please, Bucky, I’m sorry.”

She didn’t call him daddy or even her Bucky. She couldn’t.

“Baby, let me—”

She shook her head, running away from a shattered Bucky, almost tripping on her own feet.

“Go, we’ll take care of him,” Sam told him, patting his shoulder.

He watched her run as if she was escaping a wild lion, terrified and fearing for her life.

Bucky slammed his fist into the concrete wall where his love once leaned before slipping the brass knuckles off his probably broken fingers and hearing them clank on the ground. He rested both palms on the wall and let his head fall down as he breathed hard.

“Dragă, nu! Te rog, (love, no please)” Bucky begged, his hands grabbing her forearms to stop her from throwing more of her things into the suitcase.

Bucky ran like a mad man on the way to their house. He had no idea what he was going to say or how he was going to justify what she’d just witnessed him do.

She called him Bucky with glossed over eyes. She was bordering on little and he just gave her the trauma of her life. He had no answers to any possible question she might rightfully throw at him. Bucky only knew that he couldn’t lose her; she was the best thing that’s ever happened to him.

He busted through the front door and ran up the stairs only to be met with her frantically packing her things, fat tears soaking her face as she hiccupped out sobs.

“Please let me leave.” Her voice trembled and more tears left her eyes. His right hand had dried blood all over it and it made her skin crawl.

“Please don’t,” Bucky pleaded again, on the verge of crying himself.

“I’m really scared. Please don’t make me stay here,” she begged Bucky, trying to slip out of his grip.

“Angel, please believe me. I will never hurt you,” Bucky swore, his eyes brimming with tears.

“Angel, of course I love you! Please just stay and listen to me, baby.” Tears rolled down Bucky’s cheeks as he took a dress out of her hands before she could pack it.

“Did you ever really love me? Would you really never hurt me? Was anything you ever told me the truth?” Her voice was way too innocent as the questions left her trembling lips.

She didn’t even sound like she was blaming Bucky, she just sounded confused. Disappointed. Hurt.

“I wanna leave. Please let me leave,” she repeated, crying harder as she tried not to let herself crumble down on the floor of their bedroom.

“Angel, please don’t say that.” Bucky shook his head, holding onto her writs for dear life, “I can’t live without you, love. I can’t.”

She looked up at him and the look she gave him let him know she wasn’t little anymore.

Bucky despised himself for making her feel and think that way, “angel—”

“Why did you ever take me? Why did you bring me here?” She asked, the reproach hurting her too, “I didn’t know what love was before you. I trusted you. I trusted you with my heart, Bucky.”

She was saying everything that came to her mind, unable to keep her thoughts inside or else it felt like they might suffocate her. She was mad at herself for letting herself trust and love when she shouldn’t have.

“Are you used to doing this to people? Do you kill people, Bucky?” Her voice broke as she asked, already fearing the answer.

“Angel, please.”

“No, answer me.” Her eyebrows furrowed in sadness, anxious of the reply she was about to receive.

Bucky closed his eyes, not wanting to see her face when he told her his truth, “yes.”

“Yes.” Bucky nodded, hot tears leaving his closed eyes.

Her breath hitched at his answer, making more tears leave his eyes.

“D-Did you do this to the other guys I complained about before, too?”

“Did you kill them?” Her tone fell with her heart.

Bucky only swallowed, going dead silent at her question.

“Oh my god.” She cried, her knees almost giving out as she tried to get her arms free from his grip.

“No, no, angel, I only drove them out of town. They’re alive.” He assured her, leaving out the details about the probable permanent disabilities some of them left town with.

“Why?” She sobbed, her shoulders hurting from squirming in his grasp with no avail.

“They were bothering you.”

“So this makes it okay to kidnap them and beat them up?!” She screamed, her tears never drying up.

“I wanted to protect you,” Bucky whispered, his heart dropping at the realization of how his angel must see him now.

“Protect me from you then and let me go.” Her words shot daggers right into the mafia boss’ chest.

“I can’t believe I loved you so much.” She whispered, mostly to herself, lamenting her foolish, trusting heart.

“Angel, I can’t. You know I can’t.” He knew she was right, but he couldn’t let her leave.

She was his whole world; his life and everything good in it.

“Loved?” Bucky could hear his heart shattering.

“Loved,” she replied despite herself, knowing too well that she was lying.

Bucky finally let her arms go after her confirmation. He knew that if he tried to hold her back now she would only end up hating him. He would rather have her leave him than hate him. He wouldn’t be able to take it.

“I’ll tell the driver to get the car ready so he could take you to your grandma’s,” Bucky told her without looking up, wiping away his tears. For now.

She didn’t reply, and only continued shoving clothes into the bag.

“I just want you to know that I’ll always be here whenever you need me. I will always be yours, angel. Even if you’re no longer mine. I love you and I will love you until the day I die.”

But all of this was nothing compared to the fear that shot up her spine when she heard gunshots making contact with the car she was inside, forcing the driver to stop abruptly.

Bucky’s last words had her sobbing even harder as she fell to her knees the moment he left her alone in the room.

She didn’t want to leave him and she never saw a day like this one coming, but she knew it was only right that she did. They were different from the beginning and she was wrong to let herself live in a daydream for too long. She had no place in Bucky’s world.

The drive back to her grandma’s house was torture. The pain of being fooled could only be overruled by the pain of fearing the only man she’s ever loved. She couldn’t ignore the feeling that she was leaving a piece of her behind in the mansion that the car just drove away from. She knew that piece was her heart and she knew that she was most likely never going to get it back. It will forever remain with Bucky.

Her tears kept coming as she silently wept in the backseat.

Pathetic fallacy was at its highest and the skies were sobbing with her. It was cold and the roads were muddy, thunder hitting every now and then, making trees shudder where they were rooted.

She cried more knowing Bucky would no longer be there to hold her through thunderstorms.

The man and the guard next to him got out their own guns but it was too late for them to do anything as another couple of bullets were shot, going right through their heads. The driver fell lifeless, face first on the driving wheel and she felt her heart stop with his.

“Let me go for your own good,” she said, trying to keep her tone confident and her pain veiled.

Before she could even think of a route to run in, a bag was put over her head, her screams futile as she got violently dragged to another vehicle before it all went completely dark with a hit to the back of her head.

“I thought we were past that shit, babygirl. Three days didn’t teach you who’s in charge yet?” Lloyd Hansen, Bucky’s biggest enemy, asked her with a provocative smile.

She was in absolute agony.

She let oud a loud, pained scream, desperately trying to pull her arm from underneath his huge shoe.

They’d untied her an hour ago after she claimed she needed the bathroom, a guard on her tail as he led her through the abandoned building.

Once inside the toilet, she managed to pick up the upper part of the toilet seat. She gained the guard’s attention with a scream, going down on his head with the heavy ceramic piece as soon as he opened the door to check on her.

She managed to run as far as the hallway of the floor she was in before a very angry Lloyd grabbed her. She surprised him with a harsh slap across the face, taking the chance to run again when he froze for a second.

Lloyd got even angrier, stretching his leg and knocking one of her feet off the ground, making her fall over. He walked over her crawling body and evilly stepped on her right wrist.

“I can’t wait to kill you,” Lloyd said, not taking his foot off before he heard a snap and a loud screech from her.

Lloyd got hold of her hair, dragging her all the way back to the room where she was previously tied up.

He tied her to the same chair again, only this time one arm got the ropes while the other was left to redden and swell.

Now she was here, on the same chair, throwing empty threats as she’s almost given up hope that Bucky might find her.

“Aww, did you hear that, boys? Little slut right here is worried for our good,” Lloyd mocked her, laughter erupting and filling the room in response.

“You’re not getting out of here, babygirl,” he spat, his voice laced with venom, “this is where you die.”

“Let me go. I won’t say it again.” Her voice almost shivered with her heart at the end of her warning.

She was scared, and in so much pain, but she couldn’t let it show. She wouldn't even cry and was sweating like crazy from the ache in her dangling wrist. She was Bucky Barnes’ girl.

“You’re making the demands now? Not even a “please” to persuade me?” Lloyd moved his face closer to hers, slowly pushing a strand of her hair behind her ear with a smirk, “or do I have to heat you a bottle to get to meet your polite side?”

She felt her face go hot as her eyes filled with tears and she couldn’t stop herself from spitting in the bastard’s face, “fuck you”.

Next thing she knew was his rough hand slapping down hard on her cheek, making her go dizzy. Blood trickled out of her nose and down to her lips right after and she couldn’t hold back her tears this time.

She was tired. Terrified. She needed Bucky.

“Your filthy mouth isn’t anything short of your boyfriend’s, but don’t worry, if you don’t know how to be respectful to your masters I have ways to teach you, and believe me, I can’t wait to start your lessons.” Hansen smirked at her wrist before spitting back at her and leaving with everyone else.

She cried harder than she has ever before, tears and blood mixing. Her body was shivering and her arms aching from being tied up in the most uncomfortable position and smashed down under Lloyd’s boot.

There was no way out for here, was there?

She knew she was done for and she didn’t have any last wishes except for getting to tell Bucky that she loved him and that she will never stop loving him one last time.

She couldn’t even pay her pain or blood any attention when all she could think about was Bucky and how he would have never let anything like that happen to her.

She remembered his soft smile that only she got to meet. The way he’d lean forward to engulf her in a hug momentarily warmed her before the iciness of the empty room made her shiver again.

She didn’t dare linger on Bucky, however.

It’s been exactly 3 days and 21 hours since his angel left him and he still couldn’t believe it.

She left him. She left and now she was here in some old factory under some asshole’s mercy. She couldn’t escape the situation she was in no matter how hard she tried. She couldn’t give her mind any kind of relief. There was none. Before she realized, her head was falling forward and she was getting a temporary break from reality.

“Bucky, are you o—” Sam cut himself off when his sight landed on his best friend’s face.

Bucky’s eyes were red with yet to be shed tears, again.

His car never reached her grandma’s because his men were murdered on the way. His angel was no where to be found and neither was Bucky’s will to live.

He kept telling himself that it wasn’t true, that she was at work; that she would eventually come back and sleep in his arms again.

However, she didn’t even call. Didn’t even look at his multiple texts. She really was missing and Bucky couldn’t face it. Between denial and heart wrenching pain, he buried himself 9 feet under.

He’s looked everywhere, asked everyone, but still couldn’t find her. It was as if she’s disappeared, turned to air.

Bucky has deserted their bedroom ever since she walked out of the mansion, the bed still as messy as she left it after she dragged the sheets down with her packed bag. Every time Bucky would enter the room he would see her leaving him, so he’d stopped. That couldn’t be his last memory of her. He slept on the couch in his office now, if at all.

And soon enough, the Bucky he used to be when she was around was dead and another angrier, more violent and very impatient Bucky had replaced him. He was always mad, at everyone and everything. And he was drinking every night, sitting on his bar for as long as he could, just to get himself hammered enough to fall in a deep unconsciousness where he didn’t have her scared eyes invading his dreams.

Sam was seriously worried for him, but there was nothing he could do; no advice he could offer. Nothing would bring that Bucky back as long as his angel was gone.

Bucky’s wallowing and Sam’s overthinking were interrupted when Bucky’s phone rang, vibrating on the ceramic floor. Bucky quickly crawled over to it, hardly believing his eyes when he saw her name in the place of the caller ID.

“Angeră?” he answered, his voice hoarse from staying silent for too long.

“Awww, you call her angel?” the voice on the other side mocked.

“Who the fuck is this?” Bucky asked, standing up slowly as his anger and worry forced him to sober up.

“You know too damn well who this is,” Lloyd answered, his smile evident in his tone as he knew he had Bucky by the throat.

“Where is she?” Bucky asked immediately.

“Tied up somewhere cold.”

“I swear on my life, if you touch her—”

“Relax, she can take a few scratches,” he replied, chuckling as if it was a joke.

“You son of a bitch!” Bucky shouted, losing his mind at the mere image of his angel being hurt.

“I’d watch my mouth if I were you, Barnes,” he snarled confidently.

“What do you want?” Bucky asked through his teeth, just wanting to get to his girl as quickly as possible.

“Let me hear her voice.”

“No,” Lloyd chuckled.

“I wanna destroy you.” Hansen laughed.

“Let her go. She has nothing to do with this.” Bucky tried his best not to sound desperate but it was obvious that he was begging for his girl’s safety.

“That’s where you’re wrong, B. She has everything to do with this.” Lloyd walked into the room where she was with a smug smile.

“Let her go.” please

“If you sound so distraught just because I’d hogged her for a couple of days, imagine how you’ll be when I erase her off the face of the earth,” Hansen said, laughing at the thought of hurting Bucky this bad.

Her face toughened up at the realization that it was Bucky on the phone.

“If you do as much as touch a hair on her head, I’m gonna kill you and everyone you know,” Bucky promised, his heart hammering in his chest as he hastily started moving.

“I might’ve broken a bone or two, but that’s only because she was a bad girl.”

“You’re dead, Hansen. Fucking dead!” Bucky promised, throwing the bottle he was drinking from across the room.

“We’ll be waiting with popcorn.” He hung up on Bucky, laughing.

“He’s gonna kill you.” She smiled once he hung up, making Lloyd grab her hair.

She hissed, trying not to show she was in pain.

“Not if I kill him first, angeră.” Lloyd spat, throwing her head forward before leaving the room.

She was horrified at the thought of anything bad happening to Bucky, but she willed her heart to trust in him. She had no time to ponder but she was actually proud of the fact that Bucky could so easily end this awful, evil man and she couldn’t wait for him to do just that.

Still, she waited for him. Something inside of her told her Bucky would never abandon her, not even to death. So she waited. Waited with the longing of all the lovers that ever were until longing had exhausted her.

It was like a slow motion dream. Doors being kicked down, guns being fired and her Bucky entering the room with a man’s body held in his left fist by the neck.

Instead, Bucky found Hansen and smacked him so hard with his metal hand that a tooth flew out. He slapped him again and his nose was bleeding. They made eye contact one more time and she noticed the difference for the first time. That wasn’t Bucky. It wasn’t her Bucky. His eyes still softened for her but the hint of revenge in them was more dominant.

He doesn’t even talk; doesn’t negotiate. He doesn’t even ask for her to be released. He doesn’t need to.

His men were getting everything done. His only mission was to look for her now. His eyes met hers but he didn’t start walking towards her like she’d expected he would.

She thought she would be afraid meeting Bucky again after what she’d witnessed him do, but she actually didn’t. Not even a tiny bit.

She was rather happy, the feeling that she was safe again warming up her body so much that she’d started sobbing.

It was like no matter how long they were away from each other, they were still together, never estranged from one another.

Bucky was on his 40th slap/punch on the man’s bloody face when he noticed her crying. He temporarily threw the man’s tired body on the ground and rushed to his girl.

He kneeled before her shaking body, wanting nothing but to make sure she wasn’t hurt.

And she was.

She looked up and could still see the coldness in his eyes despite hers being blurred by tears.

“I missed you. Is my Bucky okay?” She asked, her voice drained but not scared like Bucky had feared and expected.

“Let’s get you home, angeră,” he replied, saving his answer for now as he noticed the finger marks on her cheek.

She nodded desperately, her tied hand reaching for him despite being behind her back.

“Stop right there,” Lloyd said, crocking his gun at Bucky.

“Bucky,” she whimpered, eyes glued to her man, her anchor.

“E în regulă, angera meu, (it’s okay, my angel)" Bucky replied, getting closer to her and sticking to her side.

“No, it’s not. He’s lying to you. Just like he’s lied to you about everything else,” the man chuckled.

“Shut up,” she whispered, trying to calm down her breathing.

“Give it up, Hansen. I beat you. Again and for the last time. You’re done.” Bucky racked the slide of his gun.

“He never loved you. Do you even know who he is most of the time?” Lloyd continued, not willing to give up until Bucky was reduced to nothing before him.

“Shut up,” she repeated, wishing her hands were free so that she could cover her ears with them.

“Do you have any idea about the other side of this man you gave yourself to you poor little thin—”

“Shut up!” She shouted with all her might, “don’t speak about him like that.”

“Do you even know what you’re defending?” Hansen yelled at her with a crazy, bloody smile on his face.

“I know,” she answered calmly, “I know everything.”

Bucky looked at her in surprise, not believing what he just heard. There was no way she knew. How would she know? How would she choose to stay if she actually knew?

“Oh so you know about frosty over here?” Hansen smirked, pointing to his head.

“That’s enough, Hansen,” Bucky warned, barely controlling himself.

“I do,” she answered once more, her answer shocking Bucky yet again.

“Angel?”

“It’s okay, Bucky. I promise.” She sincerely promised, making it hard for Bucky not to tear up in the middle of the room.

“Aww, how sweet—” Hansen cooed and in a second 3 of Bucky’s bullets were in his head, neck and chest before he could say anything else.

She gasped, closing her eyes and turning her face away from the body as it collapsed on the floor with a thud.

She didn’t notice that Hansen had landed a shot at Bucky before he collapsed and Bucky didn’t even flinch as a bullet literally made it through his right shoulder. He didn’t feel the pain. He didn’t care about anything but his angel.

She was the only thing he could see and hear. Her wounds were his pain more than his own.

Bucky wordlessly kneeled down and untied her quickly. His gaze was glued to her wrists for a second before he rubbed the one that wasn’t swollen with his smoother thumb.

“What happened?” Bucky asked, referring to her other wrist.

“I'm gonna need a doctor to look at it.” Was all she gave him for an answer.

He silently opened his arms for her and she threw herself in them without an ounce of hesitation, crying more now that she was home.

She was so scared she wouldn’t get to feel like this again. She let herself let go. She then closed her eyes and finally succumbed to the cozy darkness now that she was safe.

Instead, Roseanne looked at her with a teary smile, “welcome back, miss.”

She lost all sense of consciousness that she didn’t hear Bucky shoot the man’s dead body a fourth and a fifth time with her in his arms as he took another look at her wrists.

When she opened her eyes again, she was back in Bucky’s bed, but Bucky wasn’t by her side.

“Roseanne, I missed you so much,” she replied, unable to stop her own tears.

“Thank goodness you’re okay,” Roseanne said, breaking the hug to let her rest her back.

She invited Roseanne for a hug with her good arm as she noticed the other was in what looked like a cast.

Lloyd had broken her wrist.

“Mr. Barnes is in his office,” she told her while adjusting the pillow behind her when she noticed her eyes roaming the spacious room.

“Is he mad?” she asked, more tears gathering in her tired eyes.

“At himself, maybe.” Roseanne shrugged politely.

“Please help me go to him, Roseanne.”

“One more thing though.” Roseanne chew on her lip.

“What’s wrong?”

He didn’t know what he would’ve done with himself if something had happened to her and he kept blaming himself as he sat there with his right arm in a sling.

“Mr. Barnes has been shot.”

Bucky didn’t care to look when the door to his office opened, not knowing that she was awake and too busy wiping his tears of regret.

He’s been like this since he got her home and in his bed again. His tears were unstoppable now that he saw the results of his lifestyle on the one girl he chose and held closest to his heart. In fact, he cried more every time he took a look at her angelic figure tiredly sleeping in his large bed as the doctor patched up her broken wrist.

She was so small, so pure and so so good for this world. Her face was fainter and the spark was gone and he was sure Lloyd didn’t feed her. The fading finger marks she had on her cheek, the rope burns around her wrists and ankles and the cast around her forearm slashed new wounds at his heart.

“Bucky,” she called out faintly, her head and body still aching a little, heart dropping when she saw him with his arm hanging, “are you okay?”

He stood up and helped her sit in his chair, not sure if it was okay for him to carry her and sit her on his desk like he usually would.

He hastily wiped his eyes with his hand to look at his baby.

“Hi, angel,” he tried to say with a smile but his voice cracked as another tear escaped down his red cheek.

She surprised him by using his chair as a step to get on top of his desk, pointing to the chair for him to sit back down.

Bucky was on eye level with the marks on her ankles as she settled her bare feet on his lap.

What was he going to say now that she was awake? And most importantly, what was she going to say?

“My Bucky,” she could recognize the difference between this man and the man who started her rescue right away.

Bucky was stunned to see she could see it despite everything. He didn’t want her to ever find out about that side of him and it killed him even more that she caught the difference. How on earth did she find something like this out?

“All yours, angel.” He tried to compose himself, for her.

She couldn’t bare seeing him like this. It was like she’s forgotten about everything that happened before this very moment and all she could do was sit up and hold his face to lovingly wipe his sorrows away with her left hand.

It was enough time away from Bucky.

“I’m okay, Bucky. I’m okay,” she tried to reassure him, only making him cry harder as the dam broke when she rubbed his shoulder.

“Iarta-ma, iubita mea. Te rog. Iarta-ma. (forgive me, my love. Please, forgive me)" He sobbed, moving his lips to the palms of her hands to leave wet kisses all over the reddened skin.

“I’m okay, I swear,” she repeated, not knowing what to do or say.

“I forgive you. Please don’t cry; we’re good,” she said it to him in the kindest tone like it was the easiest thing to say.

“I’m so sorry. I’m sorry for everything. I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you if you give me the chance to. Please, love,” Bucky cried like a child in her lap.

No, he couldn’t even remember a time when he cried like this as a child despite all that he’d gone through. He didn’t care though. He was going to do whatever it took for his angel’s forgiveness. He disappointed her, broke her heart and risked her life. Bucky was going to beg until the end of time if he could.

Bucky shook his head, crying harder, “no, you’re good. You’re too good to me, angel. Too good. I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve you. Never did.”

It sent a knife to his heart that she still sincerely called him her Bucky after everything she’s been through just because he was in her life; because he was selfish enough to bring her into his without a care.

He was still beating himself up over it. And how could he not when everything terrible that’s ever happened to her had happened because of him? He traumatized her more than anyone ever could have and he’s gotten her hurt time and time again.

This girl who’s made him feel like he could stand against the whole world all by himself with no fear just because she called him her lover. This girl who taught him loyalty, kindness and love and was now teaching him forgiveness. This girl was sitting before him with a broken wrist and heart telling him not to worry about it.

“Don’t say that, please. I’m alive right now thanks to you, my Bucky.” Her own tears rolled down her cheeks before she could stop them.

She loved him more than anything and wished she could make him see that. Oh how she was dying to make him see how safe and loved he made her feel.

“You mean you were taken and hurt thanks to me.” Bucky casted his eyes down, too ashamed to even look at her marked face.

“Bucky—”

“I get it if you still wanna leave me. And I will let you. I would never make you do anything you don't want. I just want you to know that I never lied to you about my love for you. You’ve been and still are the realist thing in my life, angel. Everything I said and did was true. I adore you.”

“Bucky, I—”

“I know it’s selfish to choose to speak about this now, but I’m afraid you’d leave before I get to tell you how in love with you I really am,” he sniffled, wiping his eyes again in vain before looking up at her, “I would die without you. Your love owns me, heart and soul. But.. if leaving me is what you choose.. and if leaving me will make you safe, I will accept it. I just need you to know that I’ve never lied to you. Angel, you are my whole life. You’re my one and only. I belong to you. I’m yours and I will die yours.”

She was speechless, too taken aback to stop herself from crying harder. Bucky’s never opened up to her about his feelings before. Not like this.

“Bucky, I love you,” she managed to whisper before he cut her off again. Before she could tell him that she felt the same way, that she was all his and will forever be his, that only him ruled over her heart.

“You don’t have to say that, angel—”

“Let me speak,” she demanded, her palm cupping his wet cheek as she grabbed him a tissue from his desk.

He nodded, biting his lip and bracing himself for the harshest ‘but’, preparing to get his heart ripped out of his chest.

“I don’t wanna leave you,” was the first thing she could get herself to say, desperately wanting to soothe his thumping heart.

Bucky’s eyes filled with more tears because he knew he didn’t deserve her.

“I forgive you. I want to tolerate this dangerous life because it lets me have you; be with you, which is the only place I ever wanna be.” She took a deep breath, her own tears continuing to fall as she wiped his.

“Baby,” Bucky whispers, hating to see her tears yet again.

“I knew you weren’t the nicest guy to others and I knew your line of business wasn’t the safest either. I just— it freaked me out when I actually got to see you inside of it. I couldn’t believe my eyes.”

Bucky lowered his head in shame again.

“In my head, especially when little, you’re incapable of hurting. In my eyes, you’re safety, Bucky. You’re home.” She brought his eyes back to hers with a hand on his cheek.

“I’m sorry, love,” Bucky was quick to apologize but she shook her head in reply.

“It might take me some time to get used to everything now that I know everything. But it didn’t affect my love for you, Bucky. Not one bit. I lied. I was so scared I would die without getting to tell you that. I still loved you more than ever even in that moment with your fist against another man’s cheek, and I guess that scared me even more. Because it was unlike the me I thought I knew. But this me, right here, is madly in love with you and she doesn’t care about anything other than being by your side for ever.”

“Angel,” Bucky sobbed, holding her hand to his lips, leaving appreciative, wet kisses on her palm, “you won’t regret it, baby, I promise. This is the last time you get hurt. I would die before I let anything like this ever happen to you again.”

“I know, and I trust you, my Bucky. If you’d give me time and if you’ll have me, I wanna be with you every moment of my life, forever.” She couldn’t not throw herself inside his arms, needing the closeness to reassure her this was real.

“I love you so much,” he whispered, holding her on his lap as tight as he possibly could.

“Lucky me,” she whispered in his shoulder.

Bucky felt himself coming alive again at the smell of jasmines in her hair and the feel of her warm body in his hold. She was a piece missing from him and now that she was back, he wasn’t going to waste a second without worshiping the steps she walked.

“I know I might need a while, but that doesn’t change anything. I still love you with my whole heart, Bucky,” she reassured, squeezing him to her even more.

“Take all the time you need, angel. I’ll be right here. I’ll wait forever if I have to.”

“Promise me something though.”

“Anything.”

“No more killing people on my behalf.”

“What if they have a gun pointed at you?”

“Okay, only in that case then because it’s self-defense.”

“I promise.” Bucky smiled, sliding her hair behind her ear before kissing her forehead.

She pressed her forehead to his with a smile, “thank you.”

“We’re injury buddies now,” she joked when they pull away making Bucky laugh out loud for the first time in days.

“Does it hurt, angel?”

"Mine doesn't hurt, you?" He kissed her covered wrist gently.

"Does it hurt?"

They both asked at the same time, making each other laugh.

“Not as much anymore,” she replies, not wanting to remember how much it hurt when she was tied up in the cold room.

“Let’s eat so you could take your pain meds.” Bucky offered her his metal hand and she took it with her good one with a content smile.

Everything was going to be okay again. She knew it. Her hand was back in Bucky's and there was nothing their love wouldn't be able to pass. This might not be the Bucky she got in a relationship with, but it was the Bucky she wanted and was going to continue it with.

He was still and was always going to be her bucky.

Tag List:

@harrysthiccthighss

@tinystudentfirepurse

@lavendercitizen

@tumblin-theworldaway

@pretty-pop-princess-hs

@lilymurphy03

@idontwannagomrstarkk

@glxwingrxse

@littlelioncub43

@mathletemadison

@canned-rootbear

@pandaxnienke

@loveisallyouneed1125

@floral-recs

@littlemoonkiller

@hallecarey1

@vespasianphantom

1K notes · View notes

lilystyles · 2 years ago

Text

comfort.

part three of the no strings attached series by @lilystyles

no strings attached masterlist & main masterlist xxx

authors note the long awaited part three!!! you guys are literally the best omg. all the love for both parts has been amazing since i'm so new to tumblr!! can't believe it :))) kisses and hugs, enjoy part three and follow me to see the other parts coming soon! sorry if this took some time, uni's kickin my ass.

brief description y/n calls harry drunk and scared, harry picks her up and helps take care of her. the next morning y/n worries she'll scare him off, but of course, harry eases those worries.

warnings! mentions of sex, swearing, and alcohol abuse, overall just a mature read. anxious girl reader moment (real). FLUFFY ASF!! around 4.5k words.

drunk!inexperienced!virgin!reader x fwb!harry

* * * * *

“Hello?” A crackly voice spoke into Harry’s phone.

The familiar voice of Y/n made his eyes snap open. It was an odd, long, 011 phone number; he was confused why her little contact wasn’t on his screen. It was this recent photo of her lying on a rug in just one of his shirts listening to records. He was still half asleep, all foggy and confused. Her call had woken him up from a deep slumber. He honestly thought he might have been dreaming for a moment, her voice was all distorted.

“Love, is that you?” His voice came out all deep and gravelly.

“Harry?! It’s Y/n!” He could hear noise in the background of her, her voice was warped and all crackly.

“Are you alright?” He said quickly sitting up from his bed, she never called on a random number. Something must be wrong. His knuckles rubbed along his eyes, trying to wake himself up. It was pitch black and freezing inside his room.

“My phone’s dead!! I’m at some club, you’re the only number I knew off by heart! Can you come to get me? I’m a bit scared and I’m stranded!” She was still shouting, he could hear people shouting and music in the background. She could hardly even hear her own voice over it all.

Harry looked at the time on his phone. It was around 1 AM. “I’m coming now, Y/n. Where are you?”

“Some place called The Swan!”

He had already slid some shoes on and began to race to his car. “I’m comin’ right now, I’m gettin’ in the car. Can yeh wait with one of tha’ bouncers or somethin’ until I’m there?”

“Good idea, H. Okay, see you soon. Drive safe please.” She sounded very drunk. The phone made a slamming noise when she ended the call, it must have been a pay phone.

Harry had to stop himself from speeding to get her. He tried to breathe. She was scared, and that unsettled him. He knew that she didn’t need protecting, but drunk women alone were vulnerable, he wished it wasn’t so but he couldn’t help but let his mind wander to awful scenarios.

The Swan was this really dodgy nightclub in a dodgy neighbourhood. For some reason, their friend Olive tended to favour it for the free drinks on Friday nights. She must’ve roped Y/n into going there tonight. Harry had gone to a business meeting that evening so they hadn’t been able to hang out, he’d called her to tell her. Y/n said that was okay and that she had plans anyway too.

This must have been the plan.

When his car arrived outside the strip of clubs he parked in a taxi zone, and quickly got out not caring whether or not he could park there. He looked around the swarms of people trying to find her familiar head of h/c hair. He was still in sleep clothes, this grey pair of shorts and a shirt that belonged to Y/n actually. It was this baggy old pink one with Spice Girls on the front it fits him more tightly than her.

His shoes were slippers and socks and he had a hoodie over his head. When he got closer to the entrance he saw her.

She was sitting on the floor beside two big burly bouncers. Her feet were bare and the heels she had on were in her hands. The dress she was wearing had ridden up a bit as she stared off into the distance, drunkenly. She hadn’t seemed to noticed her undies were on display or that her straps were falling down her shoulders. Her heels were off and she was sitting them in her lap.

“Y/n.” He said in relief, glad he’d made it here quickly enough. She was in a right state.

She looked up, smiling all bleary-eyed. Her mouth was in a wide-open puppy dog grin. “Harry!” Her arms lifted up for him.

He laughed feeling better now that he could see she was all okay, nothing had happened to her. He bent over slightly to pick her up into the hug that she was wanting. She dropped her shoes as he lifted her but she didn’t seem to care slinking her arms around his waist and leaning into him.

She squeezed him tightly. “Thanks for gettin’ me,”

“Of course, love. Am I really the only number y'knew off by heart?” He asked pulling back slightly to see her face.

She blushed looking down at her feet, all shy.

“Other than Mum.” She replied, finally meeting his eyes. Her Mum lived back home though, so Harry was the only person she had to call and truthfully the only one she wanted to call.

He smiled kissing her temple, brushing some hair away from her eyes. Her mascara was smudged and her lipstick had faded leaving her lips stained a slightly rosy colour, but she still looked beautiful.

“Don’t get cocky. It’s from all those times I’d call you in Uni to pick me up.” She replied, her words slurring slightly.

“Have you seen Y/n?” Asked Harry, in a gruff tone.

Queenie, Y/n’s friend who’d invited her to the party, was smoking a joint quietly outside on the front porch of the university sharehouse.

“I think she’s inside, last I saw she was dancing on the kitchen table.” Said Queenie with a breathy laugh, blowing out a long cloud of thick white smoke. The potent smell hit Harry’s nose and he wished he was back home.

He just nodded, sighing. It was probably about 3 AM right now. He’d been asleep but their friend James called him up saying Y/n needed to be picked up and brought home. She was a bit out of control.

Harry knew it was of roommately and best friendly duties to pick his girl up. She’d done it to him too, many times. And he did worry for her when she was out drinking, especially when he wasn’t there to watch out for her. Even in school when they’d get drunk off stolen alcohol in each other’s backyards he watched out for her always.

James would always say it was because he was like a jealous boyfriend, but Harry denied that saying it was simply because she tended to end up passed out on the road without his watchful gaze.

When he got inside suddenly his pyjamas felt too hot even though it was a chilly night. There were many people swarming the house, he made his way to the kitchen saying hello groggily here and there to friends.

When he got there he found Y/n dancing along to the beat of some awful song everyone knew the words to. Her hips were swaying and the exposed skin that her low-waisted jeans offered looked edible, she looked so good even with half a bottle of tequila in her. He fought away that thought and blamed his tired eyes.

Her cheeks were flushed from her drink and she had this toothy smile on her face.

“Y/n!” He called over the music, looking up at her on the table.

She opened her eyes looking down at him. “HARRY!!”

He smiled, and suddenly waking up at three had been worth it, and coming to get her was no problem. “Hi, love!”

She made grabby hands at him. “Come on! Get up here! Dance with me!! I missed ya!”

How could he say no?

He didn’t say anything, he just let go of her to pick up her shoes from the ground.

Her arms were wrapped around her body like she was cold.

“Are y’cold?”

She nodded her head. He quickly took off his zip-up hoodie and put it on her, zipping it up for her. He was rolling the sleeves for her because it was too big when her hand fell onto his chest gripping his (her) shirt.

“You’re a thief!” She teased. “Not my Spices Girls shirt, Harold!”

He just smiled, pushing some loose hair behind her ears. “S’cute! I think I look good in it. Don’t you?”

He’d look good in a paper bag, but the real reason he wore it was that it smelt like her. The shampoo she used, her perfume, and that something that was just her natural aroma. He liked how worn it was, the soft feel of it, and how it had faded from so many years of sleeping in it. She wore it a lot when they were roommates too. But she’d had it since she was little. The once vibrant pink had paled to a babied pink hue.

Honestly, he’d been sad they couldn’t hang out that evening. He put it on to help him sleep.

“You always look good.” She rolled her eyes as if it was annoying. And sometimes it was, how did he look good in the old raggy-stained shirt? She would never know. Magic. He was bloody magic.

He started taking his slippers off. They were black slip-on ones. She frowned at him. “What are you doing?”

“Put them on. I don’t want yeh’ cutting yourself on tha’ glass.” He said softly. Her heels were still in his hands, looking dainty in them.

She smiled softly before sliding her feet into the slippers. Her feet ached from those ridiculous shoes, she was glad to be rid of them. His sock-covered feet were on the floor. “What about you?”

“Don’t worry. I’ll be fine. Home?”

“Home.” She nodded.

He made sure he had her purse too before opening the car door for her and placing the bag and shoes by her feet. She slid in and Harry even did her seatbelt up for her, before gently shutting the door. When he got in beside her she smiled, glad to be with Harry. She’d missed him, it had only been one day. But they had been inseparable at the minute.

His car smelt of tobacco, mint, and a spicy woodsy smell. Just like him. He had a vanilla-scented air freshener and a charm of jade beads hanging on the mirror.

“Can I put some music on, H?” She asked turning to him. Her eyes stared up at him. He handed over his phone unlocked.

She opened Spotify and put on some Oasis. Hitting shuffle it landed on ‘Married With Children’ and she sighed. “Remember when we used to listen to Oasis at my house?” She asked.

Growing up Y/n had the most CD variety and all the gang used to go over and listen; when Y/n’s parents were away they’d smoke and drink with this album on in the background. It always made Harry feel very nostalgic and it always reminded him of her. Even when they had drifted his hands itched to ring her if he ever heard it on the radio.

“Of course, you loved bloody Oasis.” He replied, smiling at the memory of 14-year-old Y/n. She had these colourful dresses, ratty sneakers, and an Oasis obsession. She just grinned over at him in reply, humming the words of the song. He could see that girl inside her even now, and Y/n could still see young Harry who was all dimples and laughs underneath the rockstar beside her.

“Yours or mine?” He asked gently as pulled up to a red light.

“Yours, please. S’closer and I want your comfy bed.” She had been dreaming of his big grand bed, it was all white, fluffy, and fresh and it smelt of her Harry. She wanted to curl up in there, she’d been feeling a bit emotional recently. She thought her period might be coming soon. So all she wanted was to sleep in his arms and his very comfortable and luxurious bed.

And she liked when she woke up at his house and she’d find him sitting on the couch drinking his tea, as always he was awake before her, waiting for her with some pastries or big plates of bacon and eggs. It was like being in a bloody hotel!

He nodded, she looked so sleepy beside him. “As you wish.”

The drive was quick and quiet beside the low humming radio.

When the car pulled out the front of Harry’s large house he entered the security code into the gate and made his way inside the driveway. When he parked the car and turned off the engine, he looked over to find her very much asleep.

He sighed softly, letting himself take a moment to stare. Her eyes were shut, fluffy eyelashes on her cheeks, lips all pouty and soft. She looked so calm and soft like this, it made her look like an angel. An angel in clubbing clothes. He knew he wanted to get her inside and change her into something comfortable and get her safely to sleep, but he wanted to enjoy her beauty for a second.

“Bun,” He whispered his hand touching her cheek. She leaned into his touch, still asleep. “We’re home,” he said slightly louder.

Her eyes fluttered open, and she just nodded. He got out and walked to her door, helping her out. He grabbed all her things, locked the car and then grabbed her hand to guide her inside. When they stepped inside Harry was glad to be home.

He then guided her upstairs to the bathroom motioning for her to sit on the toilet. She did so happily and he opened his drawer grabbing some makeup remover and cotton pads, Y/n had a habit of falling asleep in her makeup so he’d bought this so she didn’t have to at his house.

He soaked the cotton pad with the remover and stepped closer to her, pushing her chin up slightly. She smiled at him sleepily.

He smiled back. It was silent, but they didn’t always need to talk. They’d never needed to talk all the time, that wasn’t their style.

He gently pressed the cotton pad on her skin and removed all the makeup around her lips, cheeks, and forehead. It took a few cotton pads and then he finally did her eyes, she looked like a panda for a second and he giggled at her.

Her hand had crept up onto his hip under the shirt, her nails gently scratched the skin there and she saw a peak of the fern tattoos. She loved those tattoos, they had to be her favourite. When she’d pleasure him she loved kissing along those tattoos and when they cuddled on his couch and her head was on his lap she would trace along them. They were just fucking so sexy.

He liked her tattoo too. He was just as obsessed with every inch of her, but he loved that she had gotten it with him in mind. He felt they’d always be connected till the end of time.

Once he had gotten all her makeup off her, he used a wet cloth to wash her face. She felt nice and clean. Harry knew just how to take care of her. He handed her a hairbrush she left here and she quickly brushed her hair before tying it back away from her clean face.

“Y’want your shirt back to sleep in?” He asked pinching the pink material.

She shook her head. She had started to sober up, but she was still looking sleepy, “Looks better on you, Harry.”

He gave her the pink toothbrush he’d bought for her for when she slept over. She cleaned her teeth. He waited, leaning in the doorway, watching her with droopy eyes. He was starting to feel sleepy too.

She followed him to his bedroom, her arm wrapped around his waist as she pressed her cheek onto his back. He loved her like this, they already were quite physically affectionate but that was usually Harry initiating it. But drunk Y/n loved to touch him, he’d always known that. She was the same in uni.

When they made it to his room he opened his cupboard. Grabbing a jumper he wore earlier that day and a pair of clean boxers. He handed them to her and since she was drunk, and they had started to see each other nude more often she had no shyness in taking off her dress and Harry’s jacket. She threw it to the floor before she finally took off her bra and undies to slip into Harry’s clothes. The navy jumper smelt of him and she loved that.

The whole room smelt of him. She took his slippers off and left them by the foot of the bed.

“In ya’ get.” He gestured to his messy thrown sheets. She quickly crawled up to the pillows before wrapping herself in his big fluffy duvet. He turned his lamp off and got in beside her with a sigh.

“Thanks.” She whispered looking up at him.

He just gave her a crooked smile, all dimples. “Of course.”

She moved closer to him resting her head on his chest.

“Sooky pants.” He teased, arms still wrapping around her.

She didn’t reply, just kissed his chest. It made his cheeks heat up. She made it hard for him not to feel like this. Did she even realise? He would do anything if it meant he got some of her. Even if she didn’t want to date him, he was happy with anything. Any piece of her was enough to keep Harry.

The two fell asleep quickly, wrapped together in each other’s soft touch, they hardly moved at all during their sleep. Feeling peaceful and warm on that chilly evening was enough to make Harry sleep in longer than usual.

Saturday mornings usually consisted of him going for a run, grocery shopping, calling his Mum or Gemma. But this morning he slept through the sunrise and all the way until 7:00! Harry was honestly amazed, it’d been a long time since he slept in until then. He looked down to find Y/n still buried in his chest, and couldn’t bring himself to move.

After an hour of drifting in and out of sleep, his bladder caused him to get up. He tried to be gentle but Y/n stirred. He placed her gently back but she made a little whine, arms grabbing his.

“I’ll be right back, Love.” He whispered, kissing her forehead. She let go.

She opened her eyes, the curtains were half drawn and but it was a rather dreary London morning. Didn’t seem to be raining yet, but thick grey clouds covered the sky so it was practically dark in Harry’s room. She felt awful, slightly hungover, mainly just sleep deprived. She felt tired and sore, kicking off the white duvet she looked down to find a big red blotch staining Harry’s white sheets.

She looked to see it all over her thighs too. “Oh shit!” She gasped. She was so embarrassed. She wanted to cry. She ruined his sheets, his clothes, and oh god. What if he was grossed out? What if he found her digusting? She wasn’t exactly thinking rationally, but she wished she could’ve gotten it another time. Why now?!?!

Her panic was interrupted by Harry coming back from the bathroom. He had two steaming mugs in his hands, all smiley. Happy to see her up, thinking maybe they could go for a walk today. There was a local park nearby. He thought it could be cute, maybe they could get breakfast at a nearby cafe and go for a stroll. Y/n had some study to do but Harry was good at making sure she took enough breaks. She had a habit of overworking herself.

He stopped smiling when he saw her panic and glossy eyes. “Y/n, what’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry.” She said, tears spilling from her eyes. He frowned, he hated seeing her cry. He walked closer to the bed placing the two teas on the bedside table and finally saw what she was talking about. She must have gotten her period in the night or early this morning.

He shook his head. “Don’t be sorry, baby, it happens.”

She placed her head in her hands, body slightly jolting from her sobs. He quickly wrapped her in his arms, rubbing her back. “It’s alright, I promise.”

“But I-I—” She hiccuped, pulling back slightly,“—r-ruined y-your sheets, Harry.”

“No you haven’t I’ll go wash them, it’s not a problem. It’s only sheets.” He caressed her head, pushing back stray hairs.

“What about your clothes?” Her lip quivered. She felt awful. So guilty.

“I’ll wash those too, Petal, s’fine.”

She frowned. “I’m so sorry. I know it’s gross.”

He frowned deeply. “S’not gross, it’s natural. Y’can’t control it, Love.”

She didn’t say anything, just looked down at the mess on the sheets and her legs.

He kissed her forehead. “M’ gonna run you a bath, get some new clothes f’ya, and then I’ll get y’whatever breakfast y’want.”

She looked up, smiling gratefully.

“What stuff do y’need? Do you need any pain relief?” He pulled out his phone and wrote down the list of things she needed.

She felt so lucky, Harry was so sweet about it. Listening to every detail and asking questions.

He then ran a big bubble bath for her, lavender scented soap filled the room. He dimmed the lights and checked the temperature of the water with his hands. It felt just right. After he turned the water off he got a big fluffy black towel for when she was done.

She stripped off his clothes telling Harry she’d wash them after she had her bath but Harry beat her to it and did the sheets and clothes all in one go while she warmed up and cleaned herself.

While she relaxed he did a few things around the house, including bringing her in a tea and his laptop to watch some Friends on. She needed something that didn’t involve thinking.

He gave her a peck before leaving to buy her some pads and tampons, and the specific pain relief she wanted.

Harry will admit that since gaining money he tended to go a bit over board sometimes. He came back home with enough pads and tampons for a year and lots of other things; including her favourite snacks and chocolate.

When he came home from shopping he found Y/n relaxing still in the bath, eyes shut, as Friends played in the background. She opened her eyes, she looked a bit ill. She sometimes had really bad period pain. Today was one of those days.

He gave her a little haul of the things he bought. “I got tha’ ones with daisies s’on like y’asked.” He said shaking the box with the daisies. “Here’s the pain medication.”

She silently wondered if this is what a boyfriend would do. Her inexperienced brain made her question her sanity. Maybe this was normal for friends with benefits. She had literally nothing to base it on.

When he was done showing her he put them on the sink and Y/n told him she was ready to get out. He quickly shut the door giving her some privacy before grabbing some clothes for her to wear.

He found a big black jumper with ‘Pleasing’ on the front, she loved this one (always knicking it), a plain white shirt of his that he wore to the gym sometimes, and a pair of black tracksuit pants with the drawstring so they would fit her well. He also found a pair of fluffy socks and had even bought some cotton underwear for her so she didn’t have to wear his boxers. At this point, Harry kind of wished she had a drawer here for her stuff. He liked having her here, and it might make things a little easier.

He knocked asking to come in. She mumbled a ‘come in’, and he did. She had wrapped herself in the towel.

He handed her the pile of clothes, stroking her cheek. Her hair was damp letting the water fall over her neck, back, and shoulders.

“These are all clean and I bought some undies from the shop, so you should have everything. Let me know if you need anything else.”

“Thank you, Harry.” She said softly, eyes scanning his features. His eyes looked so green in the dim darkly lit house. How did he look so good right now? He was in casual lounge clothes. A pair of grey tracksuit pants that made him look muscular and a loose black long-sleeve. He looked so pretty watching her like that, arms crossed and worried eyes. He looked pretty all the time.

Today felt more intimate than anything they had done. Today had felt real.

“Of course, Petal. I’ll leave you to change.” He kissed her forehead.

He went downstairs, doing his usual morning routinely bits and bobs. When Y/n came down she had blow-dried her hair and washed her face. Her eyes, even with deep bags, still looked pretty. Lips all pouty. She seemed calmer now, but still tired.

“Are y’feeling up ta’ goin’ out?”

Even though she was tired, Harry had an excited look, how could she say no to him? Even if her uterus was angry inside her.

“Okay? Breakfast?”

He nodded. “How could I drag you out without the promise of breakfast and a good time?”

She giggled.

They layered up for the winter weather, with puffer jackets and beanies. Y/n felt so funny in all of Harry’s clothes, but the smell made her so calm she was ready for a nap.

Harry mentioned that it was only a short walk through the park and then they’d be there. Since it was a pretty quiet area and Harry was wearing a beanie and sunglasses he wasn’t too worried about being noticed. Y/n was much the same in a pink beanie of his and this big crimson scarf around her neck.

It was the one he wore on New Year's of 2014. “Harry, this is an old one isn’t it?”

He was typing on his phone replying to a worried Olive. He was annoyed she’d left Y/n to fend for herself and ditched her for a bloke. Nonetheless he told her Y/n was fine. He looked up at her, they were walking down his street.

“Sorry, Love? What?”

She smiled placing a hand on her neck. “I remember this…”

“Oh, right. Yeah, had it for ages.”

She smiled softly. He turned is phone off and put it in his pocket grabbing her hand which had been swallowed by the long arms of his jumper. She let him, it felt too nice to pull away. His hand was warm and soft. She leaned into the comforting touch.

He kissed her hairline as they strolled through the park. It was chilly, Y/n found herself leaning into him happily. She wished it could be like this everyday. It was a Saturday so it was as busy as the quiet area got. Children ran around with worried mothers chasing after them. Teenagers on bikes laughing and flying by. Old couples wandered around closely together.

They fit right in. Seeming like two normal people, a normal couple.

Harry wasn’t some rockstar right now, with Y/n he was just himself. Just Harry from Holmes Chaple. He loved that Y/n grounded him and made him feel normal, this to most was a boring day but to Harry the best in a long time.

When they got to the small strip of cafes Harry guided her to his favourite place.

Over delicious hot chocolates and breakfast, the cold morning felt warm and Harry and Y/n felt blissful.

"Haz, thank you again,"

He just smiled and leaned in for a long kiss. It was nice and with no real sexual intentions. Just a genuine soft, warm, slow, nice kiss.

"Of course, now stop thanking me. No need. An' tell me what yeh' think of the eggs."

if you enjoyed this feel free to check out my masterlist here! xx feel free to request me too!

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles smut #harry styles one shot #harry styles x reader smut #harry styles angst #harry styles x y/n #nostringsattachedseriesbylilystyles

699 notes · View notes

ghostshipernr1 · 19 days ago

Text

WITCH-HUNT

chapter 3

"Dewdrop gets a little lost in the castle and meets a strangely tall man"

16-year-old Dewdrop doesn't have it easy.What he would like most in the world is to bury his nose in books and never leave the room. Unfortunately, his family thinks otherwise and forces him to marry a stranger. Who will save him from such a terrible fate?

Its time for...

My favorite ship but its Vampire Middle ages Universe!!!

Human Dewdrop x Vampire Aether

It was already light outside. The night fog had long since disappeared and the trees had taken on a much more cheerful character from their ominous attitude. Dewdrop surprisingly discovered after waking up that he was indeed in a very good mood. The fear that had recently gripped him to the limits seemed to have evaporated today. What was even stranger was that the room lacked any traces of the man who had put him to sleep just a few hours ago. The blond looked around the room, everything seemed the same and yet there was a note on the small bedside table.

"GOOD MORNING!!!

I sincerely hope you slept well! Knowing that you might still be tired I decided to give you some space but I'll be back soon to check if everything is okay. I also saw that your clothes were ruined so I encourage you to choose something from the closet in the room.

~Aether"

However, the piece of paper wasn't the only thing lying on the bedside table. There was also a plate with something that was probably pork. Dewdrop wondered at first whether to try it, after all he didn't trust this place yet, but the strong rumbling in his stomach reminded him that if it weren't for them, he would still be lying in a damp ditch with a broken arm.

Dewdrop didn't expect the meat could ever be this good. Every bite melted perfectly in his mouth and before he knew it, everything was already eaten, whoever prepared this meal must have definitely known what they were doing. With his belly already full, Dewdrop decided to finally take off his dirty clothes and put on something neater. He looked into the closet, searching through the most diverse dresses, until he finally decided on a flowing, long black dress. Remembering his lack of footwear, the blond looked for some substitutes. Oh well, a pair of fluffy socks and cat slippers would have to do for now.

A steady knock on the door echoed through the room. Dewdrop probably already knowing who it was, opened the door looking at the taller man in front of him.

"I see you've already picked out some clothes" He said looking the other up and down.

"I hope that won't be a problem, by the way thanks for the breakfast. I usually don't eat meat in the morning but this was a nice change" Dewdrop spoke up. Aether definitely noticed how the shorter one straightened his back and lifted his chin slightly, trying to emphasize his noble lineage but he didn't comment on it. Instead he gestured for him to follow him.

Dewdrop didn't trust the man at first, but after remembering the events of the previous night, his attitude warmed up considerably. After all, what did he have to lose? Despite everything, he still kept to himself, and when they walked arm in arm through the large corridors, the blond still felt a deep-rooted distrust.

During the journey, in which Aether showed the shorter one around the large complex of corridors and rooms, telling him with great gusto what was where and what it was for, Dewdrop began to realize where he really was. This was no ordinary cottage where a happy family lived. It was a large castle straight out of the legend of Uranus. However, there was a radical difference between the history and what he was currently seeing. The blood-curdling torture chambers were actually warm rooms with a visible family atmosphere. The rooms that were supposed to be lined with occult symbols were actually lined with embroidered wool blankets in cat patterns. There's no way a bunch of bloodthirsty beasts living here would be ready to squeeze the last of his life out of him in less than a second.

However, ignoring his delight at the castle, Dewdrop had to ask a few questions. "You didn't say your family lives in the castle," Dew said, breaking the silence. He moved forward slightly to be able to see Aether's reaction. "I didn't want to spoil the surprise," Aether replied, clearly avoiding the topic.

Okay, Dewdrop could play this game too.

"I wonder where the people who so graciously welcomed me here are then," The blond deliberately avoided the word family.

"Well, you know...they decided to give us some space, I know how it is when..." He stopped suddenly. "And why are you asking so much? Do you want to stay here longer?" Effectively cutting off the higher topic. "Stay?! Please, no matter how big this castle is, no matter how rich your wealth is, I'm leaving today and going back to my family." Dewdrop replied firmly.

Gilded shackles, they'll still be shackles.

"I'm not sure if that's a good idea, your hand is still not in good shape and it would be better to leave it for observation." Aether said clearly trying to keep the blond inside. "If it calms you down I can assure you that I'll go to the doctor right away so there won't be any need for me to stay tonight." There was no way Dew was staying here even a day longer. It was humiliating.

Aether decided against it anyway. "Are you sure? Because you know... this castle is surrounded by a large forest, and it's full of dangers. We don't want you to get hurt, do we?"

Okay now that was suspicious. Dew definitely didn't want to stay here. "If I leave during the day nothing should happen to me."

Aether, in a losing position, decided to use his ace up his sleeve. "I've never seen you wandering around the area, this place is deep in the bush so to get through you need a guide"

"Let me guess, you're supposed to be the guide?" Dewdrop sighed.

"In exactly 7 days, my family and I are going to a fair that will be held in the city. We'd love to take you, but not before those 7 days." Aether said firmly.

7 days is a long time. Dew was tormented by thoughts of whether his parents would be worried. Maybe they'd venture deep into the forest and get lost themselves? No, that wasn't like them. After all, it wasn't the first time the blond had run away from his family home for a few days. The last time he left, his father asked why he came back so quickly. In this case, those 7 days wouldn't make much difference, would they? He'd come back, marry Uranus, and everything would be as it was supposed to be from the beginning. Dewdrop wasn't the type to run away. He won't run away from his family or his responsibilities. Freedom is for the strong, and he's definitely not like that.

"If my posting here won't be a problem, so be it" He agreed with Dewdrop's proposal. It was impossible to miss the other's sudden joy. "In that case, I, as well as my family, will do everything to make you feel as good as possible here" Aether said excitedly.

The two continued walking around the castle for some time. Aether happily talked about every little historical context that Dew was almost certain were made up. During the journey, Dew and Aether often caught up in various chats, whether about the nearby flora or their similar interests. As it turned out, Aether was very interested in astronomy, he was absolutely convinced that he knew everything about the stars, the blond, seeing that the other was able to argue about it solidly, only nodded in agreement.

Finally, Aether led Dew to his room, and as he left, he mentioned that the other could move freely around the building.

Aether went straight to one of the more hidden chambers, which surprisingly was the favorite place of a certain group of vampires. The most prominent thing in the room was an old, elegant couch standing in front of the fireplace. The whole room looked very cozy.

Everyone in the room had a handmade blanket with them.

"Oh, the prince is back." A tall man with a truly pearly smile smiled, turning to him. "Good morning to you too, Swiss." Aether said casually, sitting down next to him on the couch. "And how was the tour of the new guest?" Cumulus asked curiously. "It went exceptionally well, he was quite a conversational experience." Aether said.

"I don't really understand one thing, Aeth." Rain suddenly spoke from the other end of the couch. "Why did you bring him to us? I understand that he was injured and you have a hero complex and all, but you usually heal the injured quickly and then leave them where they were" The blue-eyed vampire stated. "You could say that our guest is very important to us. Especially after the last incident" Aether sighed.

"Don't tell me you're planning on eating him? You know the rules..." He didn't have time to finish. "EAT?!" Aether was outraged. "None of that! I'm just helping him and nothing more" He shouted. "Relax Aeth, Rainy's just joking" Swiss interrupted.

"But that doesn't change the fact that he's right" Cumulus spoke up. "Even if we can hide as much as we want, he'll eventually notice that we prefer to stand in the shadows outside and drink blood for dinner Aeth. Let's not make a fool of him" "I know that, that's why I have a plan. I'll try to effectively distract him from our nature, he'll spend the day in the castle and I'll bring food to his room. Mountain will definitely be happy that he'll finally have someone to cook for." Aether said proud of his plan.

"BUUUUTTTTTT AETHER... can't our guest spend time with us at night? We'd like to meet him" Two small, about eleven-year-old vampires who had overheard the conversation were outraged and decided to add their two cents. "Phantom, Aurora I'm sure our guest would definitely like to play with you, but he's a human and might get scared of you and run away" Aether sighed, knowing what would happen next.

The two little beasts immediately jumped at Aether, pulling his clothes, hanging themselves on him and trying to cause as much commotion as possible. "Maybe you should let them go, after all we won't be hiding here forever," Cumulus said. "Maybe if he gets to know all of us he'll form a good opinion of us, after all that's what you care about, right?" She added. Aether leaned back more on the sofa. He didn't know what to do. On the one hand, he would prefer to avoid the rest of them from contacting their new guest, but if Dew got to know them all better, it would help them a lot with their problem. As it turned out, the final nail in the coffin was the puppy-like gaze of the twins. But do we have the right to be surprised? After all, nothing interesting has happened in that castle for years.

"Okay, I'll see what Copia has to say about it and together we'll figure something out." As if on cue, the siblings hugged Aether, clearly happy that the conversation had ended.

The man sat by the fireplace for a while longer, admiring the tongues of flame clashing against each other, but he was quickly overcome by the need for sleep, so he headed towards his chambers.

What the hell is going on here? Dewdrop whispered to himself as he walked through the stone corridors. A good half a day had passed and the blond was bored, so he decided to go for a short walk. Unfortunately for him, the flood of thoughts also accompanied him.

This place seemed more and more strange to him with each passing moment. Day by day he learns about some mysterious castle and then, just a few hours later, it turns out that it exists. And on top of that, some strange man lives there with an even stranger family. If Dew still believed in fairy tales, he really might think that it was the work of vampires. But now? It's impossible. Vampires don't exist. Luckily, he'll be leaving in less than x days and he'll be able to forget about this place, and at the same time, laugh at Uranus for believing in the existence of monsters.

Along with the river of individual sentences flowing down his consciousness, Dewdrop was getting further and further away from his room. It got to the point where the blond realized he was lost. A quick shiver of anxiety ran down his spine, but the blue-eyed boy decided not to panic and tried to follow his footsteps.

He got even more lost

"Holy shit" They cursed under their breath. "Why does this castle have to be so big? Uranos said it wasn't big"

"Don't be so dramatic, our house isn't that big" A deep voice rang out from somewhere deep in the room the blond was currently in. Dewdrop held his breath sharply. For a moment he looked like a deer in the middle of a gun waiting in fear for the trigger to be pulled. "Oh, my sincerest apologies, I didn't think you'd scare so easily" He said, slowly approaching the boy. When the man was close enough for the light of a nearby lantern to fall on him, Dewdrop could finally get a good look at him. The man was very tall and well-built. By well-built, he meant REALLY well-built, and he knew that because of the lack of a shirt in the man's attire. His face was adorned with a light stubble and a mass of freckles, and his brown curls perfectly matched his tanned complexion along with a pair of brown eyes.

Does everyone in this castle have to look like living statues of Greek gods?

"No problem, my name is Dewdrop, and yours?" The blond asked. His definitely shaking legs did not support his statement. "My name is Mountain, and you seem to be lost," he stated with a smile. So Mountain was his name... Quite nice if Dew was being honest. "Unfortunately, yes, could you show me the way to..." At that moment, the blond realized that he did not know how to describe where he wanted the taller one to take him. Mountain, sensing his confusion, looked him up and down, stopping only at the sight of a hand in a lab coat. Noting the distinctive black dress. "Ooooo is this about Sunshine's former room? In case, I know where it is" Mountain stated. "I guess so, then lead the way" Dewdrop decided to trust the freckled man. "I'd love to show you around, unfortunately I still have one more important thing to do. Would you like to accompany me on this adventure? Then I'll be happy to take you to your destination," he asked. Dewdrop could feel the other's slight excitement.

Was it a good idea to go with a man he had just met, who was three times his height, to a place he didn't know? NO

Did he care? ...

"In case, we'll do it your way"

#ghost bc #dewdrop ghoul #the band ghost #dewther #fanfic #vampires #middle ages #hope you like <3 #mountain ghoul

13 notes · View notes

captain-lessship · 2 years ago

Text

Call Me: Two V Two

You weren’t surprised by this meeting, the first of which you decided to sit in on. A few questioning glances fell in you. Compared to L, you look normal. A simple shirt and short combo paired with a pair of slippers that were forgotten on the floor.

Only similarities were the slightly dark under eye bags that you rewarded after many nights you spent awake, waiting for him, and you hadn’t the energy to cover the bags with concealer, and the odd sitting position. You sat slouched with one leg tucked up to your chest, where you rested your head on your knee, carefully watching the Task force, mentally sizing them up.

There was a sound of shock throughout the room when L said there’s a possibility there might be two Kira’s. No one really saw this coming and questions radiated from everyone. You looked from the officers to look at L.

Discussion rang as L and the Taskforce talked through the information, then their attention went to you.

“Who are you exactly?” Chief Yagami, a man who had much stress on him between the case itself and his son being a suspect, asked.

“I am V.” You said, reaching for your cup of tea that was on the table. “Like Watari, I work for Ryuzaki.” You took a sip from the cup, “I have my own set of skills outside caretaking though. They might not be as grand as the intelligence of my partner but I have never failed in my own field.”

“Which is?”

“Let’s just call it information gathering” you set the cup down before cutting your sharp eyes to L, noticing that he wasn’t paying attention to you. “And, of course, better communication skill.” You gave L a playful teasing glance.

“You mean you’re a spy?”

You nodded. “There’s also my weapon skills, which are impressive but don’t do much good in this situation.”

“Knowing now that there is a high possibility that there is another Kira, I feel comfortable bringing in my own partner.” He ate the last bite of his cake, after he swallowed, he added a little tidbit of information, “She is also my wife.”

This was the big shock to the group, which mildly offended L. “I will act as if I am not irked at your alls misconception about me.” He couldn’t hide the mild annoyance in his voice as he demanded they get back to work.

You smiled as you stood up and walked to the chair where L sat, you pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek as you picked up his now empty plate.

You exited the room, his guess to collect something. He smiled lightly at your caring action, still feeling the remnants of your chapstick on his cheek. In response, he reached and poured me tea in your cup, awaiting your return.

It was late that night before he entered the bed room, noting your still form. A small sigh came from his lips. “Are you awake?”

He waited for a response, there was none. He walked to the bed and when he reached his side he noticed your out stretched hand, reaching for him in your sleep. He gently moved it and laid down, hoping he didn’t wake you.

One could only hope. You sat up in bed, a yawn left you. He moved his head to lay on your thigh, like it was instinctive.

“Are you actually going to sleep? Or are you just saying goodnight?” You whispered out.

Hearing your voice and feeling the warmth of your body mad L realize how tired he actually was.

“You need to take care of yourself.” You gently carded your fingers through his hair. “A good nights sleep would help you.”

“It’s very tempting.”

“I think they’re nice people.”

“They are okay. Not my least favorite team I’ve worked with.” He noted.

You looked up the ceiling, “L?”

“Yes?”

“Do you think you’ll die?”

“Someday.”

You huffed, “I mean… be killed.”

“We all get killed. Whether by an outside force or a fault in our bodies that arise.”

“By Kira?”

He was quiet, “I hope not.”

“I don’t know what’d I’d do if you died,” you looked down at his face, “I think I would die too.”

“That… I wouldn’t want you to die if I did. Someone has to take care of the house. Also Watari needs someone to look after. And the Lawliet Widow would be a great contender.”

“Until you’re dead, don’t call me that.”

“If I was dead I wouldn’t be calling you anything.”

You decided to change the subject, “What are we going to do when we get home?”

“Enjoy your baking and hopefully relax.”

You were surprised: He actually wanted to relax. “I think a vacation would do us some good.”

“To?”

“The Netherlands. They have great winters in the travel magazines. Or France.”

“As long as it isn’t terribly Sandy or sunny, I would be fine.”

You paused, “L. Our honeymoon was in the Bahamas.”

“And the sand we collected there will satisfy me for a lifetime.”

You laughed, “If I knew you hated the beach, we could have gone somewhere else.”

“You are summer incarnate.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re like the sun. Actually let me re-phrase the earlier statement, you are more like spring. When the sun is still gentle yet still warms you.”

“Does that make you fall and winter?”

“Does it?”

“Unforgiving on the outside yet after a while, it becomes beautiful because of the colors of the leaves and the uniqueness of the snowflakes.”

“I didn’t know we became poetic when tired.”

“Yeah,” you turned to look at the clock, “I think it foolish to be awake before eight.”

He lifted his head from you to allow you to lay down, he then slid himself on top of you, becoming your blanket of sorts. You didn’t care as long as he sleep and he wasn’t heavy so you could still breathe. Your arms went to his back, rubbing up again.

L fell asleep because of the affection and the added lullaby of your heart.

#l death note #l lawilet #l x reader #l lawliet x reader #death note #romantic relationships #series #talk of death #death note fanfiction #light yagami death note #light yamagi #misa amane

127 notes · View notes

jungle-angel · 10 months ago

Text

Winter Snuggling Prompts

It is unbelievably cold where I live, cold and shitty weather that just can't seem to make up its mind. I think it's high time for some winter snuggling prompts (lol). Taking requests for Top Gun Maverick, Outer Range, Bad Times At The El Royale, Catch 22 (Hulu), Salem's Lot, Press Play and Lessons In Chemistry.

Warming up the blankets/towels/pjs on the radiator

A hot bath after shoveling or snow blowing

"Dinner's hot! Come and get it!"

Hot baths on a shitty night

Herbal teas

Getting cozy by the fire

"Holy hell!!! Your hands are freezing!"

"Why the fuck is it so cold in here?"

Bundling up the babies for bed

Their favorite comfort foods

Dreaming of a tropical vacation

Watching a movie while snuggling on the couch or in bed

Planning for spring

Knitting a pair of cabin socks for their s.o

It's so cold out that the babies have to sleep with mommy and daddy

The dogs keeping momma and daddy warm

The cats keeping momma and daddy warm

A woodstove in the bedroom

Dancing in the living room while it's snowing out

Watching the snow fall as they're falling asleep

"If we have to watch Frozen 2 one more time I might actually freeze my balls off"

Warm baked goods

"You sure you wanna wear wool socks to bed? Won't you be itchy?"

Night routine before bed

"Wish we were sleeping on a bed of hot sand......or baked potatoes"

Waking up and finding everything iced over

Singing or telling stories by the fire

Sewing the old quilts back together but they're all over your lap and they're nice and warm underneath

Getting the baby animals all cozy by the woodstove

Cozy house slippers

Warm clothes fresh out of the dryer

Reading to their s.o while snuggled under a pile of blankets

Snuggling in bed to keep warm

Waking up because the house is snapping/shaking because it's so windy

Hot drinks

Warming up in a steamy bath that's surrounded by all the houseplants

Using baked potatoes as handwarmers

Making a makeshift bed by the fireplace

A day at their cafe and general store

Painting the winter landscape

"How the hell are we gonna put together a 1,000 piece puzzle in a single day?"

"Can you make me a tomato soup and grilled cheese?"

Stacks of books by the fireplace

Warming up their baby's nose after they were playing outside all morning

Roasting hot dogs or nuts on the fire

Maple sugar candy

Sleepy time/sick day tea

Tucking the babies under all their blankets

Snow day

A long winter's nap

9 notes · View notes

chezzywezzy · 3 years ago

Text

Yandere Draco Malfoy (3/5)

Word count ; 4.3k

*Edited.

And a nap I did get.

Draco shook me awake and I snorted slightly. Usually he would laugh when I did something embarrassing, but he completely ignored my sleep sounds. I sat up.

“We’re almost there. You should change into your robes,” Draco stated.

I nodded, wiping my eyes. When I surveyed my surroundings, I realized that Draco had already changed and his suitcase was on the booth table. I stood and grabbed my suitcase, pulling out my robes. I went to the changing room and finished quickly. When I returned, the train was coming to a stop. The caboose was dark. I was about to open the door to the compartment, the I heard Draco’s voice.

The curtains were drawn, but I could see his shadow standing behind it. I stationed myself against the wall. What was he doing?

“Didn’t mommy ever tell you it was rude to eavesdrop, Potter?” A second later, he spewed,” Petrificus Totalus!” I heard a thud. I covered my mouth and held back a gasp. Harry had been in our compartment the entire time?

I heard him pacing. Draco was heading toward the thud. “Oh, yeah, she was dead before you could wipe the drool of your chin.” I almost gasped when I heard a pronounced crack. It made my stomach churn. “That’s for talking to Y/n. As for you, enjoy your ride back to London.”

Before I react, the door opened and I was me with Draco, both of our bags in hand. He seemed surprised by my presence, but shoved right past me. He must’ve thought I didn’t hear anything. He wrapped his arm around my shoulder and began dragging me out.

“Wait, my bag —“

“I have your bag here, idiot.”

I could only spare a glance into the compartment. Nothing was there. Had Harry already left the scene?

There was nothing for me to do but follow Draco out and head to Hogwarts with him.

~~~

I was surprised by how tranquil the first semester was. Although there were whispers of Voldemort’s return, the most people had to gossip about was student romances. It felt like the calm before the storm, so I intended to spend my Christmas break wisely.

I was more than happy to oblige when I receive a personal invitation to spend the final days of vacation at the Malfoy Manor. It was a personal letter written by his father, so I was quite flattered that I was so well-received by Draco that his father approved of me. My parents were excited to see me off since, and I quite,’ It’s the first time I’ve spent personal time with a boy since he died.’

And they were right. Although Draco and I were only friends - and I might have developed a small crush on him -, I didn’t spend as much time with other friends outside of school like I did with him. If you told me a year ago that I would be best friends with the Slytherin prince, I would have a hard time believing it. Because, even now, Draco was just as mean-spirited; perhaps even more so.

I knocked on the large mansion’s front door. My two fathers stood beside me, saying that it was only polite to meet Narcissa and Lucius themselves.

The door opened and we were met with a house elf. He beckoned us inside. Me and my family entered. The house elf shuffled off, taking my luggage with me. There were pairs of slippers of various sizes by the coat rack, so we took off our shoes and put on a pair.

I examined our surroundings. The meeting hall was thin. Ahead of us was a stair case. There were two closed doors adjacent to each there. Beside the staircase was the hallway that led deeper into the manor. The hallway was dimly lit, and there was something cold about the place, even with the quaint Christmas decorations on the wall and railing.

Emerging from the second floor, Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy welcomed us. Lucius had an unfriendly and strict air, but Narcissa welcomed us with open arms, immediately doting on me.

“My dear, I’m glad you accepted our invitation!” Narcissa greeted. “Hello. You must be her parents.” Lucius nodded to us as Narcissa shook each of our hands. “Are you planning to stay for dinner?”

“Actually, we plan to take this chance to personally celebrate Christmas,” my dad explained. “However, I’m sure we’ll live vicariously through Y/n.”

“The house elf has already taken your luggage to your room,” Lucius informed, staring me down.

I bowed my head slightly. “Thank you, sir.”

Narcissa waved her hand dismissively. “There’ll be none of that. You might as well count as family with how close you are to Draco. Please, just call him Lucius and me Narcissa.”

I grinned. “Will do.”

My dads hugged me. “We ought to get going. Thanks again for your hospitality. We’ll be off now.” Dad pulled out some floo powder from his pocket after bidding their good-bye and disappeared.

Now that my parents were gone, Narcissa clasped her hand on my shoulder. She shouted over her shoulder,” Draco, where are you? Y/n’s here! Come give her a tour!”

The house was old and creaky, so I could hear quick footsteps thudding above me. Draco seemed slightly out of breath as he came downstairs. He was stoic and was wearing his usual posh attire of a suit. His whole family was wearing high-class clothing, while I only had casual attire on. Even if I did have such fancy clothing, I wouldn’t have thought to wear it for such an occasion.

Narcissa nudged Draco toward me. There was a ghost of a smile on his expression as he stood in front of me. “Good, now that you too are together, Lucius and I will let you kids be,” she chided mischievously.

“Hello,” Draco greeted.

“Don't be a stranger,” I replied with a grin. I wrapped my arms around his neck and stood on my tippy-toes, enveloping him in a warm hug. He reciprocated the action, his spindly fingers drifting over the small of my back. “I missed having you and that nagging run-on mouth of your’s around.”

He chuckled, pulling away. “My father likes you. He says that it's good to have someone so loyal by my side. It’s even better that we’re both prefects.”

“I’m honored. But he always looks like he’s in pain, so you could’ve told me he hated me and I would believe it," I quipped.

Draco clicked his tongue, ruffling my hair. “You should feel honored. Not just anyone gets invited to my home.”

“I have a feeling your bias had something to do with it.”

“None of my other acquaintances have seen my house. Even Pansy and Crab and Goyle haven't been here, and I’ve known them for at least ten years,” he insisted.

“My god! Your parents must be quite stiff-necked.”

“No, I just hate having them around. I always have.”

“Now, now, it’s Christmas. Christmas is all about gratitude and forgiveness and positivity. No insulting your entourage behind their backs.”

Draco hummed, smirking. “Of course you’d say that, Hufflepuff.”

“Oh, you know you love me for it.”

He opened his mouth then closed it again. A blush rose to his cheeks and he suddenly turned away. Let me show you to your room. Dinner will be on soon.” He grabbed my hand and led me to the second floor.

Unlike the entrance, the second floor was spacious. The stairs immediately led to a library slash study, and there were several doors. The one we went through opened into a wide hallway with rows of doors. We stopped a few doors down, and he opened it for me.

I let out an audible gasp as I entered the room. My suitcase was beside the bed. The huge king-sized bed. There was a dresser and a mirror and a closet, oh my! I broke away from Draco and immediately cannon-balled onto the bed, ruffling the blankets.

I let out laughs of joy as I rolled around on it. I was so very tempted to jump on it, but it was just so comfortable. I slowed, sitting up to peer at my friend.

He looked completely spaced out, staring at me. There was a faint but visible smile on his handsome face. I couldn't help but blush from how adamantly his attention was on me.

“Draco?”

He jumped, shaking himself out of it. “Yes?”

“Nothing. You were just staring.”

“How could I not?”

“Are you flirting or insulting me?" I giggled.

His cheeks reddened. “As if I’d flirt with the likes of you, Hufflepuff,” he huffed. “Why are you so excited about a bed?”

“Well, I’m not poor, but my family could only afford a twin-size. I've never slept in even a queen-size bed before," I explained. “Bloody hell, I don't think I've even slept on a queen-sized bed. I mean, when I’ve visited the Weasleys, I slept on a couch, and when I was with Cedric during holidays, I shared his tiny bed.”

His body went rigid. "Of course… the Weasleys are too unsophisticated to afford such things.”

“Maybe,” I argued," but their family is so tightly-knit to the point it's envious. Each Weasley so different, yet still fired up and filled with love for their family.”

Draco bit his lip. “Whatever.”

A lightbulb went off in my head. “Oh! Right! I have your Christmas gift. I actually dropped by Hogsmeade and Diagon Alley the same day the invitation arrived. I bought things for your parents, too. Do you want to open your's now or at dinner?”

"Now is fine.” He took a step back, standing in the doorway. "I got you something, too. Let me go get it.”

While Draco exited to grab my present, I went through my suitcase. My clothes were messy and wrinkled as I tossed them onto the bed, excited. I pulled out four packages, one for each of the family members. I sat upright on the bed with Draco's gift on my lap.

He reentered and plopped next to me. There was a permanent blush dusted on his cheeks as we exchanged gifts. We had a stare down, waiting for one of us to open it first.

“You first,” I insisted.

He bit his lip. “Oh, fine then. I know how stubborn you are.”

I grinned victoriously. I scooted closer and propped my head on his tall shoulders and he tore open the cheesy wrapping paper delicately. He let it flutter the ground. He was greeted with an ornate wooden box with a clasp. The box was decorated with snakes along the rims.

“Open it, open it!” I urged.

“Bloody hell, you're impatient,” he complained. He fiddled with the clasp and opened the box.

Inside was a green white-chocolate snake. It was winding around the outside, and on the inside was a custom-made metal snake quill.

I watched as Draco's jaw dropped. “Where the hell did you get this?”

“I custom ordered it. It cost a pretty penny, but it was worth it. First, I commissioned Scrivenshaft’s Quill shop owner to make the box and the quill. Then, I went to Honeydukes to commission a white-chocolate Slytherin snake. They even dyed it green for your pleasure. Do you like it?”

“Do I like it, she asks,” he exclaimed. “It’s perfect. And I thought my gift was thoughtful.”

I broke a piece off of the snake and held it to my mouth. “Say ‘ah’!”

Draco took the chocolate. He smiled widely as he chewed. “This is delicious,” he vocalized. He closed the box and set it beside him on the bed. I was about to start opening his notably small box, but he cupped my cheeks. I met his gaze, and I blushed. He was staring at me with such adoration… well, I was quite flattered.

I I leaned in and shut my eyes as he grew closer. I expected him to kiss me, but instead, his lips pressed to my forehead. They remained for a minute, but the he pulled away. “You’re too good for me,” he whispered.

I giggled, swatting his chest playfully. “Nonsense. Now, if you don't mind, I'm eager to see what you got me.”

I tore the wrapping paper carelessly. I had an inkling that it was some sort of jewelry from the flatness of the box. It was a blue box. I popped off the top. I was in absolute awe at how beautiful the piece was. It was a necklace and ring set. The necklace was silver and attached to the chain was a hollow silver heart with a lapis lazuli crystal heart inside of it. The ring was from the matching set, a silver ring with two small diamonds and a azure heart in between them. There was an inscription on the inside of the ring that said the date.

“Oh, Draco…!”

He took the box from me and unhooked the necklace. He moved my hair out of the way and clipped the necklace on. The moment the jewelry touched my shirt, I played with it. He took my left hand and slid the ring on my middle finger. I was in completely shock from how beautiful and thoughtful the gift was. I’d never been given something so… glamorous.

“Thank you. This is the best gift I’ve ever received,” I gushed. “This must’ve cost you a fortune! Are these real diamonds? You didn’t have to —“

Draco placed his finger on my lip to shush me. “It’s nothing. I wanted to… show my appreciation.”

I wrapped my arms around him and pulled him into a side hug. “God, I’m the luckiest girl alive. If I knew this was what you were giving me, I would’ve bought you something else —“

“No, your gift is perfect. Really. I’ve never… had someone be so thoughtful before.”

I sent him a reassuring smile. “Get used to it.”

“Out of curiosity, what did you get my parents?”

I hummed. “Well, for what you’ve told me about your mother, she’s very practical. So, I got her a book of practical spells for traveling. And for your father, I was kind of stumped, so I just bought him a Slytherin paperweight. And for the whole family, I bought a simple picture frame.”

Draco smiled. “I’m sure they’ll love it. Especially mother. She’s always been obsessed with being close with each other.”

“Nothing wrong with that.”

A house elf entered and informed us that it was dinner time. With that announcement, my official holiday with the Malfoy commenced.

~~~

I was right when I thought that the semester was the calm before the storm. Voldemort was on the rise, and Hogwarts had never been more scared of what was to come. Students were being attacked in school. There were small changes in the curriculum and daily life that instigated such concerns. DADA was stricter and we were learning more dangerous spells. Students were banned from leaving the premises. And us prefects were on night duty for an extra hour.

Tonight was one of those nights. I was surveying the left wing by the astronomy tower since there wasn’t much to do. Torches turned on and off automatically when I passed since Hogwarts had installed motion-sensing torches. So, I wasn’t completely cascaded in darkness.

I sat at the bottom of the steps that led to the astronomy tower. I leaned against the wall, hugging my cape to my chest. It was late February, so it was still chilly outside, but not so much as to need winter clothes.

I was incredibly tired. If I could at least get a few minutes of shut-eye before continuing to the next post…

Clack.

I sat up, alert, as I heard distant footsteps. I noticed a torch automatically start from down the hallway. There was someone approaching. A tall, dark figure. I assumed it was a teacher. As the figure grew closer, I realized it was a cloaked figure. I rose to my feet and pulled my wand behind my back.

“Who are you?” I called out.

The figure stopped, as though they didn’t notice my presence until now. Pale hands revealed themselves and pulled the hood down. I was surprised to come face to face with Draco. His hair was thin and all over the place, and his hands were ghostly white, even in the dim, red lighting. His expression, only for a moment, was pure dread and guilt.

“Draco. Fancy seeing you here… I didn’t know your path crossed over mine,” I greeted.

Draco bit his lip, finally stopping in front of me.

“Y/n… It appears that it does.Or perhaps you’re just behind schedule.”

I placed the back of my hand on his forehead. He jumped back, bewildered, his eyes asking for an explanation. “I was checking if you had a fever. You haven’t been looking well these past few days, Draco. I’m worried.”

He bit his lip and abashed his gaze, as though he was searching for an excuse. “I… do you trust me, Y/n?”

“Of course, Draco. What’s all this about?”

“I’ve been thinking for a while. A long time, actually. It’s… been on my mind for years, even before we met.”

He took another step toward me. I instinctively took a step back, my back hitting the wall. I dug my hands into my cloak. Over the break, it was as though Draco had grown in height; at least, it seemed like it in this moment, as he towered over me.

“What about, Draco?”

It was though he completely melted. His hands caged me against the wall and he leaned into the crook of my neck. His hot breath fanned over my skin. I was sure that my face was beet red from the close, intimate proximity. Sure, Draco and I had hugged, given cute platonic kisses, but never like this. Something about this was different.

“I love the way you say my name,” he sighed, pressing a kiss to my neck. “Say it again.”

I lightly pushed at his chest, and he pulled his head up. Our faces were inches away from one another.Our noses grazed, and we maintained a steady eye contact.

“Draco.”

We both swerved into a kiss, our lips crashing against one another. It was the perfect mix of passion and gentleness; his lips were thin and slightly chapped, and I loved it. I weaved my hands into his ashen locks, pulling him closer. Our chests were pressed against one another. One of his hands held the back of my head while the other roamed my waist. It felt so right.

I eventually pushed him, but the proximity between our faces remained close. I pawed at his chest. I licked my lips, hardly thinking at all. All I knew is that I kissed Draco and I liked it. I liked him.

“So… what were you thinking so hard about?” I mewled seductively, running my hands across his shoulders.

It was as though he was breathless. As in-the-moment as he was, behind those stunning blue eyes was guilt. Anxiety. Secrets.

“I’m in love with you. I’ve been in love with you for god knows how long. All I think about is you.”

I smiled, stroking his cheek. His face was red and he was focused intently on me. “I love you too, Draco.”

I leaned in for a kiss, but he suddenly stepped back. He sent me a reassuring elfish grin. “You’re on night duty. You ought to get to your next post.”

I tilted my head in confusion, brows furrowed. “What? That’s sudden. Draco, please, tell me what’s wrong —“

“Please! Go to your next station point.”

I examined his movements. His hands were trembling. His lips twitched, and his eyes were glossy, as though he would burst into tears at any moment. I reached out to him, wanting to ask, but I knew he would not tell me. I withdrew my hand and readjusted my cloak.

“…Yes. I suppose you’re right. I’ll see you tomorrow, Draco.”

I wasn’t sure what note we left that on. We kissed and he confessed, but it was abrupt from the beginning. I began walking away, waiting to be in a proximity that wouldn’t alert him of my presence. Our paths never crossed any other night; he had to be up to something.

I stopped walking a hundred or so yards away. And then I listened. Because of my stillness, the torch eventually turned off. I heard Draco’s padding footsteps walk further up the astronomy tower staircase. The footsteps eventually faded, so I made my way back to the steps. I slowly and quietly ascended to the astronomy tower.

I made it to the bottom floor. I was stunned when I was met with Harry. I was about to speak, but he held his finger to his lips to shush me and beckoned for me to come toward him. When I was standing beside him, he motioned up.

Footsteps echoed above. On one side of the large, transparent globe stood Dumbledore, while on the other, approaching, had to be Draco.

“Good evening, Draco,” Dumbledore stuttered. I was shocked when I saw that Draco was pointing his wand toward the headmaster. “What brings you here on this fine spring evening?”

“Who else is here?” he demanded. “I heard you talking.”

“Oh, I often talk out loud to myself. I find it to be a habit that’s extraordinarily useful. I often whisper to myself.” He paused, his tone becoming empathetic. “Draco, you are no assassin.”

“How do you know what I am?” he retorted, his voice cracking. “There are some things that would shock you.”

I grabbed Harry’s sleeve anxiously. We exchanged glances.

“Like cursing Katie Bell and hoping in return she’d bear a cursed necklace to me? Like replacing a bottle with one laced with poison? Forgive me, Draco, but I cannot help but feel that these actions reflect that your heart really isn’t in it.”

“Trust me. I was chosen.” Draco pulled up his sleeve, revealing the symbol of a Death Eater. Even with the cascading shadows, I knew what he was showing. Draco was working with Voldemort.

“I shall make it easier for you —“

“Expeliarmus!”

Dumbledore’s wand flew out of his grasp and clattered on the floor.

“Very good, very good.”

The astronomy door was opened with a loud boom. Someone else was making an appearance. Harry and I were stock still in anticipation.

“There are others,” Dumbledore continued. “How?”

“The vanishing cabinet in the Room of Requirement,” Draco seethed. “I’ve been mending it.”

Harry began pulling me into the shadows. “Let me guess. He has a sister. A twin.”

“Borgan and Bergs have formed a passage.”

“Genius. Draco, years ago, I knew a boy who made all the wrong choices. Please let me help you.”

I wanted to scream, cry, and smother Draco with affection. He wasn’t evil. I knew he wasn’t. But if he made this decision, it would be over for him. He would have made his choice.

“You can’t.” He was on the verge of tear. “Don’t you understand? I have to do this! I have to kill you. Or he’s going to kill me."

All I wanted was to tell him he didn’t. That Dumbledore could help him. That Harry could. That I could.

Footsteps thudding to the upper level. Someone else had arrived, and I hoped it was backup for Dumbledore. But, my hopes were denied as I heard the snide voice of an unfamiliar woman.

“Well. Look what we have here.” The woman stepped closer to him. “Well done, Draco,” she hissed in his ear.

“Good evening, Bellatrix. I think introductions are in order, don’t you?”

“I would love to, Albus. But I’m afraid we’re already behind schedule. Do it!”

Another voice joined in. “He doesn’t have the stomach. Just like his father. I should finish him on my own.”

With a hand over my mouth, I took a few steps forward so that I could see Draco once more through the floorboard cracks. Tears sprung to my eyes. This couldn’t be the end. It just couldn’t.

“No!” Bellatrix screeched. “The Dark Lord has ordered the boy to do it. This is your moment, Draco. Do it. Come on, Draco. Now!”

I almost jumped out of my skin as Harry and I were met with Snape, who was pointing his wand at us. He then shushed us. Snape was involved in all of this. How?

“No,” Snape sneered as he walked up the steps. Draco’s focus was broken. He was on the verge of breaking down as he swiveled toward the man. Snape paced. Dumbledore made one last eye contact with us. I held Harry’s hand. We both needed some sort of comfort to keep from screaming and shouting for this all to stop.

“Severus,” Dumbledore greeted.

All eyes were on Snape.

“Please.”

“Avada kadavra!” A green flash flew from the wand and hit Dumbledore. I shoved my lower arm into my mouth to muffle my scream of terror as the spell hit the headmaster. I saw his body fly off the precipice. Harry was just as stunned. I wrapped my arms around him and buried my face in his chest to prevent my sobs from escaping. I couldn’t watch. I just couldn’t.

Bellatrix, leaning over the balcony, shot a spell into the sky. Hogwarts had been taken. We were fighting a downhill battle.

Harry took off after them, enraged.

I was left with nothing to do but chase after him.

#yandere #x reader #x y/n #self insert #yandere male #yandere harry potter #yandere Draco Malfoy #draco x you #draco malfoy #malfoy #draco angst #draco fluff #hp #harry potter #harry potter x reader #harry potter fandom #harry potter series #hogwarts

503 notes · View notes

turtleybeachin · 2 years ago

Text

Devil's☆Fortune

(AO3 has real cute formatting to feast your eyes on with demojis and everything.)

A story about what happens after the in-game text between Asmodeus and Mammon titled "Fortune-Telling".

Mammon is (not!) worried about why the exchange student wants to talk to him so badly after Asmo teases him about the last few times his Devil's Fortune said he'd have bad luck. Not wanting to risk the (very slight!) possibility that he might have bad luck with *them*, he spends the day very smoothly avoiding their company. Can he make it to midnight?

PAIRING: Mammon x Gender Neutral Main Character RATING: PG for language WORD COUNT: 3753 FEATURES: Fluff, Standard Brotherly Shenanigans, Humor, all the brothers to some degree

Asmodeus: Did you see today's Devil's☆Fortune?

Mammon: What're ya talkin' about?

Asmodeus: The program they broadcast in the morning!

Mammon: I ain't asked for that. I'm askin' about today's fortune-telling!

Asmodeus: -evil giggling demoji-

Mammon: What?!

Asmodeus: Didn't some RAD students get you all drenched with the water hose the other day? You know, after it said you had bad luck.

Mammon: That was just an accident!

Asmodeus: And before that, you also had a devil crush mango thrown at you when it said you had bad luck, no?

Mammon: I'm tellin' ya it has nothin' to do with that stupid fortune-tellin'!

Asmodeus: And before that when it said you had bad luck, you lost so badly at a casino, people were rolling over the ground laughing, if I remember correctly.

Mammon: I'm tellin' ya it's all a coincidence!

Mammon: What did it say about today?

Asmodeus: -whistling demoji-

-----

Damnit! Man, not another crappy day! Nah, this ain't going to happen to him, no way. In fact, just to prove himself right, Mammon pulls out his D.D.D. to go place some guaranteed winning bets on the races today. There's no way he loses there, and that'll prove the whole stupid fortune show a hoax.

"Mams? Mammon, hey, knock knock!" a familiar voice calls from the other side of his bedroom door.

Any other day, any other time, he'd be flinging his door open to let his human come in and hang before they head to classes together. It's practically routine at this point, like the day ain't actually started until they see each other and agree on the shared vibe. His bad moods are theirs, and their stressed mornings are his to fix.

But today?! Not that he believes those dumb fortunes mean shit, but in the very slim possibility there is in fact a trend there, he can't risk it today! What if he does something stupid, or pisses them off, or makes a fool of himself in front of them?!

-----

My Human: Hey, Mammon?

My Human: Mammon, it's me at your door.

My Human: I wanted to talk to you. Please?

My Human: Mammon, I can see you reading my messages.

My Human: Can we walk to RAD together?

Mammon: Sorry human, already left. Ya gotta be quicker than that if ya wanna spend time with The Great Mammon!

My Human: Oh, okay. Well, let's have lunch together today. Just the two of us.

My Human: My treat.

My Human: .... Mammon??

-----

Well shit. Now he has to find a way out of his room without the human seeing him climb through a window to sprint down the street. And a new plan for lunch that is more important than hanging out with them. Which! Obviously is any plan, because The Great Mammon definitely always has better things to do than spend time with some smelly human.

Which is a good thing because if his stupid fortune was right, they are probably wanting to call him a scummy moron and tell him to get his toothbrush and charger and spare hoodie and favorite slippers out of their room and leave them alone forever. Shiiiiiiiit.

"Yooohoooo~" an unwelcome voice coos outside his door, and he hears his human respond to Asmodeus with their ever-present gentle amusement. They really don't have to be so accommodating, especially of Asmodeus. Don't they know he's just going to try to take advantage of that? If anyone should be walking them to campus, it's him, he's their first demon and--!

And damn that stupid fortune crap. He listens as his brother chatters happily, flirting at his human and urging them along, and complimenting how soft their hand is?! Grrrrr...

Only one thing to do now, though: get to RAD before them, without being seen by them. Last thing he needs is them thinking they caught him in a lie. It's a good thing he never much cared to have a neat stupid uniform like Belphegor or Satan or Asmodeus or Lucifer; sprinting through the woods doesn't do much for looking all prissy and fancy. See, days like this are why it's good to generally look like you fell down the side of a cliff and then rolled through a briar patch!

-- Not that either of those things actually happen, of course.

-----

Between classes, Mammon slumps down a wall in the hallway to pull out his D.D.D. and check the races. His face twists in dismay and he throws his head back with a thump. "Aw, c'mon!" he shouts, startling a little crowd of lesser demons skittering by.

"Mammon?"

And ain't that just the icing on his cake. Losing everything on horses that had been easy wins for the past month, and before he can even fully mourn the size of his debt, they're side-stepping the flow of traffic to get to him. Not now! Don't come kicking a man when he's already down!

Running would be too obvious, too pathetic. The Great Mammon don't run from some stupid human! But they're closing in, and he ain't about to have the whole stupid school witness this humiliation, so he's got to find an out. His gaze darts around the hall to see some stupid little teacher pet nerds shuffling this way, hidden behind a stack of books taller than the lesser demons carrying them. Everyone is parting for them, aware they can't see where they're going.

Obviously the only thing to do is to pivot toward his human with a cocky grin and swing an arm out and up in greeting, which just so happens to knock into the poor suckup's pile of books to send them flying. It starts a domino reaction, the first little demon squawking in alarm at who they've hit and reeling back directly into the other little dork who also scatters everything before sprawling atop the pile with the first demon atop them.

Perfect. "Oi! Watch yerself!" he blusters, and as expected the human pivots in alarm to try to help the demons tangled up in limbs and books and papers on the floor. Which is his cue to swivel and slide into the crowd walking past to get to their next class, successfully dodging the ambush.

-----

With his accounts (just a little) wounded from his betting disaster earlier, Mammon has no choice but to eat on campus at lunch. Which sucks, because any other time and this would be the perfect day to have been promised being treated to a meal! But nah, his shitty fortune gotta mean it'd turn around fast, either an unpleasant conversation or maybe food poisoning or with his luck it'd be some sorta questionable stain that everyone would whisper about the rest of the day.

He's sitting with his brothers and picking at his food as he tries to surreptitiously keep an eye out for the human coming to join their table. They're always welcome at a lot of tables, but they're smart enough to know you got to pick your company wisely, and ain't no better company than The Great Mammon of course! (Also, they're definitely looking for him today to try to have whatever conversation they're planning.)

"Maaaammoonnnnn~" Asmodeus is smirking at him from across the table, too aware of his hunched shoulders and anxious pout. "What's wrong? You're going to get wrinkles on that pretty face and lose all your modeling contracts if you aren't careful."

"Som'n'ong?" Beelzebub asks around a mouthful of burger, earning a halfhearted elbow from Belphegor sprawled across the table next to him.

Mammon just glares as he straightens up, wiggling to settle into a stern proud posture instead. "Nah, nothin' wrong, Beel, don't worry 'bout it."

"Mm!" Asmodeus chirps, leaning around Belphegor with a wide grin. "Someone is worried about their fortunes today-"

"Why would he be worried about that?" Leviathan interrupts, brow furrowing as he switches focus to the conversation around him instead of his phone beeping out some game in his hands.

Mammon growls in frustration even as his face betrays him with growing heat. "I ain't! It's all stupid nonsense, ain't real!"

"No, but--"

Whatever Leviathan was going to say is interrupted by a bright "Hey guys!" behind him, and he and Mammon both turn to find their human standing there with a big smile. The brothers all chime back various greetings and welcomes, a spot saved as ever for them.

Well, most of the brothers offer greeting. Mammon freezes only a moment before remembering himself, and he swivels back around to shove his spoon into his plate and shovel whatever it happened to catch into his mouth. (Yes, he does eat his fries with a spoon, what business is it of yours eh?!) Asmodeus titters and wiggles his fingers to indicate they should take a seat with the family.

"Mammon? Did you forget I wanted to have lunch together today?"

He ain't looking at their face, but he can hear the sadness in their voice. And judging by the way Asmodeus is twisting his face into a sympathetic pout and Leviathan is glaring at him, they're definitely looking all sad too.

"You can have lunch with us," Beelzebub offers, always the gentlest of them. He's even tearing a little bit off his burger to offer, and damn if that ain't making Mammon look even more like a jerk in comparison.

There's a puff of air on the back of his head as they sigh forcefully. "Oh, thanks Beel. No, I meant-- well, doesn't matter now I guess. What's on the menu today anyway?"

"They meant they wanted to go out for lunch just with Mammon," Leviathan cuts in, his namesake sin obvious in how he glares at Mammon from between his folded arms which hide most of his face.

"Ohoho, and Mammon forgot? A date~?" Asmodeus is shameless in egging things on, enjoying the ensuing drama a little too much for Mammon's liking. "I would never forget such a thing!"

"Yeah right, Mister First Man forgot? Doubt that," Belphegor drawls without lifting his head. Beelzebub frowns around the table uncertainly, aware there's something happening here and also sensing it isn't going to end well, but unsure what to do to stop it.

Mammon has an idea though. Is it a great idea? It's his, so-- well, depends how you frame it. It'll get this horrible discussion and awkward lunch to a quick end, so it'll do. "Don't remember askin' yer opinions," he snaps, lunging over the table to swipe the pudding cup off of Beelzebub's tray. Before anyone can react beyond a startled shout and Belphegor straightening in alarm, he rips off the lid and throws it back.

Oh, nice. Devil's Triple Chocolate. Can't beat the basics.

The sudden chill in the air is accompanied by a loud whirring buzz of furious fly wings as Beelzebub stands up with a huge frown.

"Wha-- oh. Aha, was that your pudding? Ey, Beel, my bad, thought that was Bel--"

"Beel, relax, you can have--"

"You ate my pudding!"

See, the mark of a good strategist is planning not just your own moves, but what everyone else is going to do next. Steal a pudding, you know Beelzebub's going to pop off. Everyone will expect Mammon to try to wriggle his way out of trouble by blaming or hiding behind one of them. The human's right behind him, though, which makes them seem at risk here too. And Satan won't give a shit about his well-being, but he'll worry about the fragile human in the warpath.

Just as predicted, the fourth born pushes back from his chair smoothly and grabs the human's arm to steer them swiftly out of the way with a murmured line about grabbing a sandwich at a nearby cafe together. And with that settled, well, what's a day without a little friendly fighting among family?

-----

Sitting in Mathematics nursing his bruised ribs, the final obstacle of the day presents itself.

My Human: Mammon, stop avoiding me. Please?

My Human: It's your turn to walk me home tonight. Unless you're going to 'forget' that, too?

My Human: I'm sure Asmo would be happy to help if you're determined to avoid me.

He glares at his D.D.D. under his desk, head propped on his hand, elbow on his desk. His fingers curl around a hank of hair and tug, frustration bubbling over. Yeah, he thinks, Asmo sure does like to help. Meddling little creep. He's been REAL helpful.

-- that's it! Be helpful! It's Lucifer's turn to get groceries, isn't it? And the stack of paperwork that morning at their council meeting had been one of the real impressive ones, the type where his big bro usually won't come home on time and will lock himself in his office all night.

Mammon: Hey, Lucifer!

Mammon: Oi, don't ignore me!

Lucifer: Aren't you in class right now?

Mammon: Not important. What IS important is how I, your favorite baby brother, am here to offer you a solution to your problem!

Mammon: Lucifer!!! Hey, are you listening?? Lucifer!

Mammon: LUCIFERRRR!!!!

Lucifer: My only problem right now is you, Mammon. I'm curious how you intend to fix yourself.

Mammon: Nah, your problem is you got a pile a papers as tall as I am to get through, AND it's your turn to get groceries. Ya probably stressed about who to ask to shop for ya. Well not anymore ya ain't! Because I, The Great Mammon, am offering to take grocery duty for ya! No cost, no need to owe me nothin'!

Lucifer: -glaring demoji-

Lucifer: You aren't taking my credit card.

Mammon: Tch, I ain't askin' to. I'll use Goldie. Ya can take it off my tab when the bill comes due.

Lucifer: ...

Lucifer: I will only credit you the cost of the items in the quantity listed on the grocery list.

Mammon: Yeah yeah, sure. This is where ya thank me, ya jerk.

Lucifer: I'll hold my thanks until I see the groceries at the house.

Mammon: Whatever. Oh, and hey, Lucifer?

Mammon: I ain't ever texted you about this, okay?

Lucifer: -okay demoji-

Hah! That's that taken care of. Switching to his other chat window, he types in a reply to his human, excuse now secured.

Mammon: Sorry, ya gonna have to pester one of my baby brothers. Lucifer needs me to get groceries for him, so I ain't going to be able to babysit tonight. I'll text Satan for ya.

My Human: -frustrated demoji-

My Human: Don't bother.

My Human: I'll see you at home, then.

Well. One problem at a time. Nobody said he has to go straight home with the groceries, or go get groceries right away, after all.

"Mammon, perhaps you can answer this problem for us?" the professor prompts, glaring at him slumped over and obviously studying his lap intently.

His head jerking up, Mammon takes only a moment to take in the problem on the board. "Huh? Oh, uh, four thousand three hundred and eighteen." He flashes a crooked, charming grin. Ain't nothing stopping him from surviving this day now.

-----

The kitchen is blessedly empty, which is both great luck and suspicious luck. He puts the groceries away carefully (Beelzebub is way too observant of kitchen-based sounds) and ignores the pile of dirty dishes left in the sink with a note of STUPIDMAMMON: YOU MISSED DINNER DUTY, SO THE LEAST YOU CAN DO IS DISH DUTY before tip-toeing as quick as he can to his room. According to his D.D.D. it's 23:41, so he only needs to avoid the human for another nineteen minutes. Maybe he can sneak his way to the bathroom, spend the rest of the day showering and then be ready for a fresh start. Maybe go find his human and make it up to them, hang out in their room until they fall asleep or something.

He makes it into his room just fine, and he's leaving a uniform trail in his wake as he yanks off his tie and shrugs his blazer into a crumpled heap on the floor. The house seems quiet, thankfully, and he's bending over to grab some sweatpants off the floor behind the couch before he heads to the bathroom.

"Mammon, sit!" a familiar voice barks from alarmingly close, and the pact activates with a sharp zap that drops him to his couch with a yowl. What was it humans like to say about plans and his Father laughing? "I think it's about time we actually talked, Mammon."

His human is standing there in his room, and the fact he never heard his door after his entry means they must have been there the whole damn time waiting for him.

"I don't know what yer--"

"MAAAAMMOOOONNNNN," they warn, pitching their voice in an eerily decent Lucifer impression that has him yelping and jerking back in his seat. "Do you even know why I wanted to talk to you this morning?"

Unsure whether he is actually meant to talk or not, Mammon just shakes his head, hands gripping the edge of the seat cushion on either side of his spread legs.

"To thank you." Stepping around the other side of the couch, they sit down opposite him and lean forward, holding eye contact. "To tell you how much I appreciate all you do for me. I know that you know I was the last one in the laundry the other day, so it was my fault the room flooded like that. But you took the blame, no hesitation. You took the lecture and the punishment that should have been mine." Their gaze drops to their folded hands, fidgeting with a ring on their finger. "And I just- I felt really terrible about it."

Shifting in his seat, Mammon shakes his head and bends double to lean toward them in return. "Nah, you don't gotta worry 'bout The Great Mammon. Ya get used to Lucifer's shit after a few millennia, ya know?" He flashes his signature cocky grin, hoping to get rid of the frown on their face. "It ain't nothin' to fuss over. Not for me. Now, you, yer just a delicate human, ya ain't made for his crap."

They don't look up, still spinning the ring. It's one he gave them, he realizes, on one of their shopping trips when he'd insisted he couldn't be seen around town with some human that ain't wearing no jewelry. ".... Mammon, why were you avoiding me today?"

"I don't know what ya--"

"Mammon!" they cut him off, finally shifting their gaze to him. At that angle, head tilted down, their glare looks extra fierce. "C'mon, you weren't subtle. I know you were still in your room when I texted you," they start, voice pitched low and steady, which just makes him more nervous as they keep going. "I saw you eye those poor demons you toppled. I know you had your own tray of food, so that theft at lunch was intentional. You usually like me joining you for errands to make it more fun."

He fidgets, biting back the urge to insist they're wrong and misreading things. But also-- they know him that well? They watch him that closely? If he wasn't being lectured right now he might have to kind of rub that in a little, you know, tease them for being obsessed with him or something.

"At first it was just weird and rude," they're saying, oblivious to his distraction, "but I figured maybe-- I don't know, something with Lucifer, or maybe some weird curse got loose in the house again. But then Satan told me your fortune--"

Shit! He hadn't planned on Satan actually watching that crap and knowing about it.

"--was that you'd be lucky in love today--"

Wait-- what??

"--so clearly you were hiding from me because you didn't want that love-luck to involve me," they finish, hands clenching into fists on their knees.

The silence in the room feels loud. The time on his D.D.D. flopped on the floor near his foot is 23:53. His human looks away again, uncomfortable in the silence, and his brain catches up with everything that just happened.

"My fortune was WHAT?"

"What do you mean what, it was your fortune, you were the one acting so weird all day!"

Mammon throws himself back in his seat so hard his feet lift off the floor. Running his hands into his hair, he twists his face up in realization. "Damn it, Asmo!" His human arches their brows, expression demanding an explanation, and everything clicks into horrifying place in his head. "No, I-- wait, listen, it ain't like that, I-- Asmo texted me this morning and was talkin' 'bout every time I had a bad fortune and all the dumb shit that happened to me. I missed the stupid show and assumed he was sayin' I had another bad day comin'! I didn't want ya to be mad at me, or see me lookin' like a fool, so I thought if I avoided you until..."

His D.D.D. blinks up at him tauntingly. 23:56. He growls, then shoots them his best desperate look, all big eyes and pouty lips.

They follow his gaze, looking at the time and then up at him. They blink, then they stand and step closer, standing between his legs to stare down at him as their jaw works.

"I uh, guess I looked like a fool to ya anyway, huh?" he offers weakly.

Their eyes flicker to the device at their feet again, watching the minutes tick by. "You really believe those things, huh? Some show says you'll have a bad day, and your usual bad luck is now an omen. And today it said you'd have luck in love, but..."

His stomach sinks. Which is stupid, for sure, because like some dumb show can decide anything for him. 23:59. He ain't worried at all, and he's definitely about to confidently say as much when he looks up to find his human face-to-face, close enough to see each individual eyelash.

"You stupid Mammon," they murmur as they lean in, muffling his squawk of protest as they press their lips to his. And then his head empties, all anger and humiliation and worry and bravado sucked into the void so only the feel of warm lips and soft puffs of breath are left. When they lean back, he can hear the smile in their voice as they whisper, "But maybe this devil’s got some fortune after all."

#my writing #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me mammon #mammon swd #mammon x mc #obey me fluff #omswd #omswd fluff #omswd fanfic #mammon obey me #swd mammon #obey me fanfic #mammon fluff #mammon fic

33 notes · View notes

ickle-ronniekins · 4 years ago

Text

tangled up

request: from nonnie! “love those sharing a bed tropes... not saying you should do it but you should definitely do it”

pairing: fred x fem!gryffindor!reader

word count: 2.3k

A/N: ummmmmm love this request, i'm in suuuucch a fred mood lately

warning(s): brief mention of war, ~implied sexual content~ i suppose

tag list: @mintlibri @seppys-return-to-madness @how-do-life-does @fopdoodledane @fredd-weasley @iprobablyshipit91 @semmelsemi @cottageoflove @laneygthememequeen @snakesonaplane-7 @keoghans @dreamer821 @wtfweasleyy @62442-am @the-hufflepuff-of-221b @obsessedwithrandomthings @thoseofgreatambition @harrysweasleys @sleep-i-ness @shadowsinger11 @shadychaoticcollection @haphazardhufflepuff @afriendlyneighborhoodhufflepuff @hood-and-horan @letsfightsomeorcs @theweasleysredhair @purpleskiesstorm @hxfflxpxffs @wand3ringr0s3 @finecole @angelinathebook @highly-acidic @purplefragile @90shermione @zreads @susceptible-but-siriusexual @hollands-weasley @andromedaa-tonks @bbstrawberry0421 @princessof-theuniverse @cappsikle @mytreec @imseeinggred @idont-knowrn @flyingserpxnt @auroraboringalis57 @godricsswords @jejegu @annasofiaearlobe @starlightweasley @alwaysasadaesthetic @thisismysketchbook @izzytheninja @imboredandneedalife @hemmoporro | message me to be added loves!

The cool October air had a bit of a bite to it -- it seemed as though Bill and Fleur’s wedding was ages ago. You wrapped a blanket around your shoulders to reduce the chill in your bones.

Suddenly two redheaded figures appeared with a pop! onto the field outside of your home. By what you could see, they’d apparated just before the line of protective enchantments -- a type of advanced magic only a very intelligent wizard could do.

“Bloody hell -- you’re a life saver, you know that?” George exclaimed as he finally reached you, wrapping you in a warm embrace. “I couldn’t be there for one more moment.”

Fred rolled his eyes and explained, “He means at Auntie Muriel’s. Being a bit overdramatic, are we, George?”

The elder twin shot his younger brother a look of amusement as George dropped his bag onto the floor and ran a hand through his hair. “Overdramatic? Tell me, Fred, would you like to go back?”

Fred then draped an arm across your shoulder and peered at his brother. “And reject our best mate’s offer to spend time at her lovely home? That would be so rude.” George swore he saw his twin shudder a bit, no doubt at the thought of returning to their Auntie Muriel’s to endure more yelling and criticism. George shot him a very sardonic look, and laughed lightly.

“Glad you two decided to come -- it’ll be nice having someone else in the house. I haven’t had a proper night’s sleep in months,” you waved your wand to pull three teacups from the kitchen cupboard and started the kettle. You felt a sense of ease at having your two closest friends here. “Should be alright out here, at least for a while.”

Fred glimpsed around your tiny little house. It was small, but exceptionally tidy with a very cozy feeling to it. It looked much different than the Burrow, but still emanated that feeling of home. “Lovely place you’ve got.”

“Thanks, Freddie,” you replied, handing him a steaming cup of tea. He gingerly took it out of your hands. “Just one problem.”

The twins chorused together, “What?”

“I’ve only got one extra bed.”

If the room hadn’t gone so eerily still at your comment, you never would have noticed the small jab to the hip George gave his twin. Fred grunted a bit and stifled a cough. “Oh, no worry -- George already said he’ll take the floor.”

Fred earned himself an eye roll and another jab.

You waved them both off and blew on your tea. “Don’t be silly! I’ll take the floor. You two’ve just got to battle it out for who gets the bigger bed.”

As if on queue, George immediately hoisted his bag back over his shoulder. He began walking away and pointed toward your very tiny spare bedroom off of the kitchen. “This one here, yeah? Thanks again, Y/N, really appreciate you letting us escape the wrath of our aunt -- I’m absolutely knackered, hope you two don’t mind if I turn in!” and with a quick wave to you and Fred, George closed the door and you both almost immediately heard very loud snoring. You and Fred exchanged a laugh.

You made sure everything was in order for Fred before leading him to your room. But you noticed he hadn’t brought his stuff with him -- you saw his belongings near your front door. With a wave of your wand, you brought it forward.

“I’m really okay to sleep on the couch,” he told you, pointing back toward the front.

“I’m not going to have you sleep on the couch,” you replied, shaking your head. “Besides -- you’re not staying out there. I might be a bit dramatic, but the couch is too close to the windows and the front door, and though I’ve been safe here for a while..” you voice trailed off a bit, and you swallowed down the nerves bubbling up inside of you. “Just -- we never know where the Death Eaters are. You take the bed, I’ll take the couch.”

You patted Fred’s shoulder, ready to head back out to your front room, when he took your wrist in his hand and whirled you back around to face him. “If I’m not allowed to take the couch, neither are you.”

You crossed your arms and swallowed. “Fine,” you replied with a grin. “Have got tons of extra pillows and a massive blanket here somewhere -- let me go and fetch it. Go on then, make yourself comfortable.”

“Merlin, you are being thick today,” Fred chuckled, and you noticed traces of the young boy you grew to love. He caressed small circles on the back of your hand. “Would you just sleep in your own bed?”

“But --” your breath caught in your throat. You glanced at your own bed, easily big enough for two, maybe even three, and went against your better judgement before you could overthink it. “Just share with me, then. Nobody takes the floor.”

A hint of nervousness flashed across his features before twisting into a cheeky grin. You continued on when he stayed silent, “What’s the matter, Freddie? You’ve been my best mate for the better half of the last twenty years. I mean, I’ve seen you in your bunny slippers, for Merlin’s sake --” Fred flinched uncomfortably at the memory of you catching him, late one evening in Gryffindor tower, in bunny slippers his mum had knitted for him as a child. You had never let him forget it.

His grin deepened alongside the crimson red colour of his cheeks. “Listen, woman, they are soft and keep me nice and toasty, alright?”

“Whatever you say,” you replied before sliding yourself underneath your warm blanket. You patted the other side of the bed in an accidental sensual way and realized how that must’ve come across. You quickly cleared your throat and turned off the light before you could see his reaction. “Erm -- there are extra pillows on the couch if you need.”

You felt his body slide in next to yours, and you could still make out some of his facial features from the faint light of the lightning strikes outside. He was definitely still grinning. “I’m fine, really.”

You figured out quite quickly that neither of you were able to sleep, especially because it was only eleven p.m. and because of the wild wind and rain that were howling outside of your window. The words were spilling out of you before you could help it. “Fred?”

He turned on his side to face you. “Yeah?”

You were laying on your back, looking up at your ceiling in the darkness. “Are you afraid?”

When he didn’t answer right away, you turned your head to face him too. Each time the lightning struck it was bright and vibrant, and highlighted his features in a more intimate way than ever before. He threaded his brows together and took a deep breath. “Yeah, I am.”

It was weirdly comforting hearing him say that he was afraid. The man who didn’t have a serious bone in his body was actually scared. It was strange and unnerving and brought a sense of solace to you all at once.

You sucked in a breath, worried that your normal evening anxiety would show solely through the look in your eyes. You turned away to glance toward the ceiling again when you felt Fred brush his fingers gently against yours under the covers. Your breath hitched at the contact.

“I think it’ll be okay though.”

“How can you be sure?”

“I suppose I can’t..” it was so weird, hearing him speak like this. He shifted again. “I just think.. we’re more prepared than before. Think there’s more of us this time. Besides, we’ve done our studying, and we’re all brilliant wizards.”

A smile tugged at the edges of your mouth. “You are kind of brilliant.”

“Wow,” he breathed, and it was almost a whisper. You noticed the way the edges of his eyes crinkled as he smiled. “Can I get that in writing?”

“Care to return the compliment first?”

“Hang on,” he replied, placing his hands behind his head in a bit of a relaxed state. “I need to bask in this for a moment.”

“Oh shove off, you git!”

You playfully swatted him before he retaliated. Soon enough you were both sitting upright, thwacking one another with pillows and laughing into the darkness of the night. Fred fell to the floor with a dull thump, and you stifled lots of giggles and shushed him as he slid back into bed next to you. “You’re going to wake up George!”

You weren’t sure how long the two of you were swatting at one another. It could’ve been hours, or perhaps days. But then the storm grew more fierce, and you found yourself scooting closer to him in bed. Fred always had a way of making you forget about everything going on around you. It was always surprising to you how you’d be able to drown out the rest of the world, as long as you listened to him talk, or as long as you watched him work on his inventions with gentle hands. Even in lessons, back in school, when he’d teasingly wink at you from across the classroom, you were pretty much rendered completely useless for the rest of the day. When it was just you and him, the rest of the world might as well not even exist.

He must’ve noticed how you zoned out, because he asked, “What’s on your mind?”

You turned on your side to face him fully this time. “Just reminiscing.”

“Yeah? About what?”

“Remember when we bumped into one another in the corridors during our fourth year -- I was sneaking sweets up from the kitchens, and you were attempting to sneak into one of the classrooms to finish working on inventions?” You smiled at the memory. “And then Filch was roaming around, and we nearly got caught?”

Fred laughed. You were happy that he remembered. “Never sprinted back to the common room so quickly in my life. That ruddy cat of his was clawing at my ankles.”

“Between the fact that I’d hardly gotten any sleep that night and the adrenaline rush, I was bloody exhausted.”

Fred snorted. “Yeah, you fell asleep in the armchair next to the fire almost immediately when we returned and began to snore rather loudly, if my memory serves me correct.”

You grinned, not skipping a beat. “Yeah, my snoring is almost as embarrassing as those slippers of yours.”

You expected him to groan and throw another pillow in your direction, but instead he just deepened his smile and reached out and placed his hand next to yours on the edge of his pillow, your fingers almost touching. “I dunno -- I thought it was cute.”

You really hoped the steady drumbeat sound of your heart was drowned out by the sounds of the thunder outside. You weren’t so sure though. “Yeah?”

He wet his lips and nodded. “I remember having to wake you up because it was nearly four a.m. -- fire had died out and you looked so uncomfortable in that armchair -- I just wanted to carry you upstairs. Except..” Yeah, jinxes by the professors at each respective staircase. Boys weren’t allowed in the girls dorms, and vice versa. You knew exactly what he was getting at.

You felt a swift surge of confidence overtake you, so you gently moved your fingers a few centimeters before you slowly intertwined them with his. He didn’t flinch. Your voice was softer than you expected. “What else do you remember about that night?”

It was an opening -- you didn’t want to be so blatantly obvious about it, but Fred could always read you like a book. You hoped he still could, after all these years. Luckily for the both of you, nothing had changed. He took the opening. “I remember wanting to kiss you.”

You bit your lip, hoping to suppress the nerves that were bubbling up inside of you like fizzy champagne.

Fred laughed cheekily. “Never got a chance, though.”

Before you could think more on it, you nudged his leg with your toes and scooted closer to him. You could see the steady rise and fall of his chest, you were so close. “Then kiss me now.”

His mouth parted slightly in surprise, but nevertheless he inched forward and caught your lips with his. They were soft -- softer than you ever could have imagined, and so was the kiss itself. He tasted faintly of mint, and and you found yourself breathing in deeper when he trailed one solitary finger across your jawline and down your neck. The feel of him against you warmed up your entire body in a way that the common room fire never could.

He sighed against your lips before reluctantly pulling away. “Mmm we should’ve been doing this the entire time,”

You laughed softly and brought your fingers to your lips, hoping to still feel that electricity. “Yeah, we probably should have.”

All thoughts of the war seemed to subside as he leant in to kiss you again. Somehow, being with him, your limbs entangled together -- it was enough to make you forget about the war on the horizon, everything that was about to happen. As far as you were concerned, as long as Fred was beside you, tangled in the covers of your bed, everything would be alright.

He tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. There was a mischievous glint in his eyes. His voice was rough and sensual and soft all at the same time as he wiggled his eyebrows at you. “Thanks for inviting me to sleep in your bed.”

You grinned and raked your bottom lip through your teeth. “Yeah, well, like you said -- we should’ve been doing this the entire time. Figured I’d get a jump start on what we’ve missed.”

He laughed and wrapped his arms tightly around your hips. Goosebumps sprouted on your skin as he lazily trailed his fingers up and down your spine and told you, “Knew you were my favorite for a reason.”

#fred weasley #george weasley #fred and george weasley #weasley twins #fred weasley reader insert #fred weasley x reader #fred wealsey x you #fred weasley drabble #fred weasley one shot #fred weasley fanfic #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley imagines #weasley twins imagine #weasley twins imagines #hp fanfic #hp fanfiction

1K notes · View notes

reidyoulikeabook · 4 years ago

Note

hi i saw that your requests are open for the night for that list and i feel like 15&35 with spencer might be all i need to survive

anyways i’m on anon bc i’m scared you’ll hate this request but just know your writing is my favorite i would read your grocery lists at this point

excuse me i love this request please do not disparage yourself ever again <3 that’s the loveliest thing anybody has ever said to me and i will now think of you and this compliment whenever i write a grocery list

Ship: GN! (wears a bra, no mention of gender other than this) Reader x Spencer Reid

Warnings: Mentions of canon-typical case things, pining, mild thievery.

Word count: 2.4k

Prompts: #15 - "You’ve just won one free pass to my bedroom.”

#35 - “Well fuck, didn’t expect to be announcing my undying love for you this early in the morning.”

A/N: This got so ungodly long I’m so sorry I don’t even know if I can call this a blurb at this point it’s a full fic but I loved this idea so much and it ran away from me.

PLEASE let me know what you think because I bashed this out in the span of an hour and I’m not sure if I love or hate it.

Rossi’s spitballing theories behind you. Your head lolls on the desk, feeling far too heavy to attempt lifting up at this time of night. The case was hard, you were sleeping in shifts, and somehow you, Rossi, and Reid had drawn the short straw. Your eyes are blearing a little too much to make out the exact time on the clock, it’s on the opposite side of the room and your eyes burn when you squint to look at the time; you’re fairly certain you’re somewhere on the wrong side of 3am.

23 hours awake.

Sighing, you push yourself up, looking around and only now noting that Spencer isn’t in the room. He must have made his exit while you were flicking through the files making notes, it was often easier to do that with your headphones in.

Thankfully, you'd set up shop in a conference room at the hotel, given the local PD was tiny and barely equipped to handle its own officers.

“What about the meat packing district?” Rossi muses.

It’s a rhetorical question but one you actually have an answer to, “I don’t think so. The busiest part of the city is between the meat packing district and where he’s dumping the bodies. Cops do random stop-and-searches sometimes, I don’t know if he’d risk it.”

“He could drive around.”

You frown, thinking, “He’d be crossing state lines. Hey, wait,” You stand up from your chair, walking to the board and starting drawing circles that illustrate your point, “Spencer thought there must be a pattern, right? But it died off here and we didn’t know about any more victims. If we expanded the search to outside of state lines it might connect here, here, and here,” You circle each here with a point, tapping the pen against the board triumphantly.

Rossi smiles, “Good thinking kid. I’ll call Garcia.”

Exhausted from your breakthrough, you flop back down into the chair. The clothes you’ve been wearing are icky, uncomfortable with sweat and flying and you’re strongly regretting your choice in underwear now too.

You hear the door swing open, looking up to see Spencer entering the room. Holding your go-bag. The one you’d left on the jet this morning. The jet that was a two hour drive from your current location.

“Where did you? When did you?” Your incoherency is related to both your tiredness, and his thoughtfulness.

He smiles, “It took some calling around but I found a cab driver willing to go and pick it up. It just got here.”

“Spencer I-,” You start, scrambling to your feet to accept the bag he’s offering to you, “Thank you. That’s so sweet of you. How much was the cab?”

“Don’t worry about it,” He says, handing it to you and heading over to the board, “What are these?”

Rossi - who was watching the exchange with some amusement - starts explaining the eureka moment you’d had. Spencer nods along, turning to smile at you when Rossi credits the thought to you. It’s something he does a lot, Rossi’s noticed. Not in a condescending way, Spencer knows more than anyone just how capable you are at your job. It’s as if he needs to channel his love for you somewhere, and chooses pride. It’s the easiest one to explain, after all, because who isn’t happy for their colleague making breakthroughs?

That’s how Spencer justifies it anyhow.

You leave the room, heading to the bathroom to change. You’re incredibly grateful to slip out of your dirty clothes and the bra that’s cutting into you, so much so that you decide to pop on a t-shirt under your blazer. The sports bra and t-shirt combo revitalises you more than you thought possible for this hour.

Digging through, you find an item that you didn’t pack. A pair of brown fluffy slippers. Attached to them, a note, ‘I thought the heels on your boots looked uncomfortable, and I didn’t want your feet to hurt. - Spencer.

He signed the note. Something about that, alongside the gift itself, sends a flush of warmth through you.

He gave you his slippers

So?

Is that something friends do?

Wracking your brain, you try to think up if he’d do this for anyone else. Hotch? The thought makes you laugh. Emily? Maybe, actually. If she didn’t make it so hard for others to take care of her. Penelope? Almost definitely.

Your heart sinks a little, and you distract yourself by fumbling to get your work boots off and the slippers on.

It doesn’t matter it isn’t romantic, it matters that he did it.

It matters to every other person you date

He sets an impossibly high bar

Thankfully, the late hour means that there aren’t many local PD still hanging around to see your interesting choice of shoe. You slip through to the conference room, where Spencer and Rossi are huddled over the phone talking to Garcia.

Spencer does a double-take. He knew the gift he’d given you, but he hadn’t expected to see you...wearing them? You look beautiful: hair mussed from fiddling with it, an old college t-shirt under your blazer, brown fluffy slippers on your feet. The mix of professional and homely attire does something to him that he can’t quite explain, and he has to clear his throat before making his next point to Garcia.

Did he just blush?

You try not to stare at him, try not to see if that’s a tinge of red creeping up under his turtleneck.

It is.

“Thanks Garcia,” Rossi clips, hanging up the phone, “I’m going to go and find some coffee. You two,” He points, looking knowingly between you, “Just keep doing what you’re doing.”

No sooner has Rossi left the room, you both try speaking at once.

“You look-” He starts.

“Thank you so-” You start.

You both tinge with warmth.

“You go first,” He says, gnawing at his plump lower lip, finger turning oer the pen in his hand.

You laugh, a little breathless, “Well fuck, I wasn’t expecting to be announcing my undying love for you this early in the morning.”

His eyebrows quirk, is that...hope?

No. Wishful thinking

It’s probably confusion, and you’re a little embarassed, so you quickly clarify, “I mean Spencer Reid this is the kindest thing anyone has ever done for me. I’m endebted to you forever, really.”

A look washes over him: disappointment? You can’t trust your eyes to see the clock, so you feel you can’t entrust them to analyse his micro-expressions right now either. Especially when you’re biased by personal desire.

“It’s no problem,” He says, voice cracking a little, “You look...” He trails off.

“Unprofessional?” You suggest, teasing.

He shakes his head, swallowing, “You look really nice.”

It’s your turn to swallow. You drop your gaze to the pen, feeling too flustered to continue looking your colleague in the eyes at this moment in time, “Thank you. Where did you get slippers at this time of night?”

He shifts, one hand settling over the wrist of the other and fingers nervously rubbing over the back of his hand, “They were uhm. They were mine.”

“Yours?”

“Yeah,” It comes out pitchy, a squeak, “I’m sorry, that’s probably weird I just thought-”

“No, Spence,” You say, looking up at him and giving him a genuine smile, “No, it’s really sweet. I’m really lucky to have you.”

He gives his signature tiny tight-lipped smile, the one he gives when he’s feeling awkward or suppressing something he wants to say but can’t.

Please let it be the latter.

You relinquish him of the obligation of responding, instead standing to join him at the board, “You think you’ve got enough to make a geographical profile out of this?”

He nods, tapping the board with his pen, “Your idea about crossing interstate lines was really smart.”

“I have my moments.”

He wants to tell you that everything you have is a moment. You want to step closer, to cup his face in your hands, to press a kiss to the lips that you swear are pouting, begging to be kissed. You don’t.

Namely, because Rossi chooses this moment to re-enter the room, clutching three cups of coffee, “A little help here?”

From the way you spring apart, despite not even being that close, he wishes he’d taken a little longer. Damn kids and their inability to express their feelings for one another.

***

It’s 4:30am when the alarm on your phone goes off. With the work of the four of you - Garcia sporadically included when she had genius updates - you’ve managed to uncover a pattern that arches across states. You’d called Hotch, who’d commended the good work and advised that you should head to bed at 4:30. The others would get up then, and start to head out to the different potential crime scenes. Local PD was already on it.

You’d been told under no uncertain terms that you were to rest until at least 10am. Unless there was a call from Hotch. You prayed there wouldn’t be.

Rossi’s off the minute the alarm rings, bustling out the door with a “See you later kids.”

You wait behind while Spencer packs his things into his satchel. Or rather, unpacks his things from his satchel, frantically tearing it apart.

“What are you looking for?” You ask.

“My key card,” He murmurs, “I swear it was in my wallet.”

“You were rooming with Morgan, right? Want me to call him?”

“Yes please,” He says, continuing to unearth the contents of his bag onto the desk, with an increasing degree of agitation every second that goes by.

You dial Morgan’s number, and he answers after two rings, “Hey kid.”

You put the phone on loudspeaker.

“Hey. I’m with Spencer, we’re about to head up to our rooms for the night, are you still here? He can’t find his keycard.”

He lets out a breath of air through his teeth, “Sorry, I’m already on my way to one of the crime scenes. Local PD found a body over the state line. Nobody’s at the hotel but you guys and Rossi.”

Spencer outwardly sighs.

“No problem, we’ll figure something out.”

“Alright, good work kid, get some rest.”

The phone line clicks. Spencer’s brow is pinched with frustration, and your heart breaks for him. You’ve all been awake well over 24 hours, and he looks exhausted. He’s more eyebag than man at this point.

“Do you want me to go to the front desk?” You ask.

He shakes his head, “Reception doesn’t open until 6am. I’ll just wait here until then.”

He starts packing the belongings back into his bag, a resigned look on his face. And you have an idea.

“Actually,” You say, pulling the keycard out of your pocket and sliding it across the table to him, “You’ve just won one free pass to my bedroom.”

He picks the card up, squinting in confusion.

“Me and Rossi both got put in single rooms. I mean, it might not be the most comfortable thing in the world, both of us in a single bed, but it’s better than nothing right?”

He opens his mouth to object, and you shake your head.

“Spence you look like you’re about to drop unconscious on the floor and I don’t want to be responsible for yet another injureid.”

You’re so tired that the pun seems hilarious to you, and it does elicit a small laugh from him.

“Come on, it’s either share a bed with me, share a bed with Rossi, or try to sleep in one of these chairs. And I’ll be honest, I’d be kind of offended if you’d rather either of the other two options.”

“I can sleep on the floor,” He says, obviously warming up to the offer but not wanting to push his luck. You can hear the hesitancy in his voice.

“You can. But you won’t,” You tell him, settling your go-bag on your shoulder, “And might I remind you that all this time you’re spending objecting are minutes we could be spending sleeping.”

That seems to win him over. He tucks everything back into his bag, zipping it up, “After you.”

“You have the keycard,” You smile, “After you.”

***

The bed is a single bed. It prompts another round of ‘No really, I can sleep on the floor’ from Spencer, your enquiries about if it’s too much for his germaphobia or issues with touching, and his blushy embarassed reassurance that he doesn’t mind if it’s you.

He doesn’t mind if it’s you.

Not as if you’ll spend the next year mulling over those words or anything.

When you get out of the bathroom from changing, Spencer is tucked up in bed. Well, you say tucked up, but he’s practically lay right on the edge. How he’s actually physically still being supported by the mattress at this point must be his physics magic.

“I thought I said I didn’t want you getting injured,” You say, crossing the room to him.

He opens his eyes, “I didn’t want to-”

“It’s okay Spence,” You tell him, huddling down into bed.

There’s about enough room for you both to fit in, with an inch between you, so you pull gently at his arms, urging him closer.

“There’s enough room for us both without you going flying in the night,” You tell him.

He nods, obviously still a little nervous. It’s odd, lying face to face with him, illuminated only by lamplight. He looks soft. He always does, but there’s something intimate about this. You can feel his breath fan across your cheek, can feel how heat radiates off his arms.

“Do you want me to turn the lamp off?” He asks.

It’s not your staring that implores him to ask, because he’s been staring at you too. The both of you, trapped in a perfect bubble of a moment. Lamplight a spotlight, highlighting all the features of the person you love most.

“Sure,” You whisper, breath catching in your throat.

He flicks it off, settling back down.

His breath brushes against your face when he asks, “Do you want me to turn around?”

“Do you want to?”

He hesitates for a moment, voice even softer when he answers, “No.”

It’s dark. You can hardly make out his outline. Yet somehow, you both just know. Shifting, infitismally closer. Breaching the tiniest gap between you somehow feels like crossing the Grand Canyon. Your heart thumps in your chest, and you can feel it in your fingers, the fingers that trace cautiously along his jaw.

His mouth finally, finally, slotting against yours in the most gentle of kisses. A blink and you’d miss it.

And yet, in the same blink, your life changes forever.

When Rossi makes a speech at your wedding, he admits to being the thief of the missing keycard, and intentional orchestrator of the greatest love story he’s ever known. His words.

---

Permanent tagslist: @reidingmelodies @takeyourleap-of-faith @sassiest-politician @calm-and-doctor @ssa-m-187 @seasonfivereid @averyhotchner @muffin-cup @purplewaterbottles082 @spencerreid9 @drspencerreidd @reidsnose

(message/reply to this to be added or removed!!)

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #reid x reader #imagine spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #imagine criminal minds #criminal minds x you #spencer reid fluff #can't believe queue've done this

287 notes · View notes

shreddedparchment · 4 years ago

Text

Spa Day

03/04/2021

Pairing: Clark Kent x Reader Word Count: 7,559

Warnings: language, depression, past abuse, emotional abuse, fluff

A/N: I wrote this because I have been feeling pretty down on myself. It’s pure self indulgence to make me feel better. I hope it will help someone else and if not, I hope you at least get a smile or some entertainment from reading it. If you happen to reblog, thanks so much for helping me spread my work! xoxo

You’re awkward, walking in. Feeling out of place.

This place was for special people. Well, people who mattered.

You’re not sure how you got the voucher. It all happened so quickly.

One minute you were sitting in Mr. Wayne’s office, twiddling your thumbs to expend some nervous energy as you awaited your firing then the next you were being shoved out his office door with a gentle but firm hand at the center of your back.

Mr. Wayne had smiled, his face relaxed and amused.

“It expires soon, so use it tomorrow,” he’d said.

“I work tomorrow,” you’d resisted, no intention of losing a full day’s paid work.

“Take the day. On me. Full pay,” As you opened your mouth to protest again, he quickly lifted his hand to silence you politely and tacked on, “There’s no use arguing with me. Now enjoy it or you’re fired.”

He’d shut the heavy wooden door in your face leaving you standing there, stunned. At a loss to think up a reason to not come here today but obviously you’ve failed seeing as you’re here.

“Good morning!” A young woman with soft to the touch looking blonde hair smiles at you from behind the modern pale wooden counter. The white marble top shines in your eyes.

“Hi. Morning,” you sputter.

“How can we help you today?”

She’s so nice. So polite. Professional. This place is super expensive looking. There’s a crystal chandelier behind you at the center of the small lobby space. Chic sofas line the wall behind you, large pots with dragon trees growing tall add a splash of color to the otherwise sterile and plain gray walls.

Despite its minimalist decor, the office exudes money.

You’re almost at the brink of following the impulse that wants to turn you towards the tinted glass door, but before you can make your escape, the receptionist’s kind voice interrupts you.

“Oh! You have one of our platinum vouchers! Lucky you,” she smiles, genuine in her glee. “Shall I take that?”

She holds out her hands, both of them and waits for you to place the thick and shiny ticket-like paper in them.

Quickly she gives it a read, turning it over and then placing it under a UV light by her computer. An image shines out from under the purple light of a shimmering diamond right at the center of the ticket.

“You’ve got the works. Was it a gift?” She looks up at you, not intending to insult you but you can’t help but feel a little stung by her assumption.

You can’t really blame her though. You reserve all of your best outfits for work. Casual yet distinguished pantsuits and skirts with matching tops or jackets.

Today you’ve chosen a simple floor length skirt. It sits snugly around your waist and hips. Your t-shirt, a simple graphic tee with the words “Touch the Radley House YOLO” printed in bold black letters.

“Uh, yeah,” you admit to the girl, wishing she’d just sign you in and let you go about your day. “My boss gave it to me.”

“Lucky, lucky. You must have a really nice boss,” she admires.

“Well, I lost his company nearly a hundred million dollars and he didn’t fire me, so…” you trail off, still lost as to why Mr. Wayne had been so adamant you take some time off and why he’d been so understanding about the Ronson account.

“Oh,” the girl says, blinking a few times as she tries to process what you just said. “A very nice boss then.”

Her conclusion brings a small smile to your lips because truthfully, Mr. Wayne is very kind. You’ve never heard him berate an employee and he’s usually only tough on his business associates. Members of his board and investors. Like Mr. Ronson.

If he wasn’t so out of your league, you’d even consider maybe letting yourself really look at him. He’s hot for sure, but he always seems so preoccupied. Like he has something he’s trying to keep buried.

Nice, but he has secrets. No one’s perfect.

“Well, we’ve got you all booked in. What you’ll want to do is head in through that door on your right, walk halfway down the hall and the lounge room should be there to your left. Someone will come and escort you to your first experience.”

You observe her vernacular. Every word she speaks is rehearsed and probably scripted to a certain point.

“Thank you,” you give her another small smile, still feeling out of place but a little more at ease.

“Enjoy!” she calls as you cross through the heavy wooden door.

It swings shut behind you silently, a soft hiss at it latches.

The hallway before you is just as simple yet chic as the lobby. The colors are less neutral, a calming turquoise with a black base and a thick silver stripe lining the center of the wall at about waist height.

The doors are pale wood, smooth to the touch. You pass several of them as you make your way to the lounge.

Inside the door to your left at the center of the hall you find the lounge room. Which actually turns out to be a locker room. Smaller than what you would have thought with only about fifteen lockers that look more like small safes. Each one has a digital keypad, a fingerprint reader, and an iris scanner.

“Sheesh…” you observe but pick one and move over to it to set up your passcode, fingerprint, and scan your eye so that you can come get your stuff when your day of relaxation is over.

Inside the locker you find a neatly folded outfit wrapped in sanitary plastic. Completely sealed.

Just in case you’re wrong about this being a spot where you can change, you look for a designated changing area but don’t find one.

With no other choice, you place your purse and keys inside the locker, then slowly begin to strip. Shoes, skirt underwear go into the locker but your nerves don’t let you remove your t-shirt just yet. Untucked from your skirt, it’s easier to tell that it’s intentionally oversized.

After another quick anxious look at the door you’d come in through, you hook your hands into the base of your shirt and pull it up...just as the door opens and a large clearly male body steps in.

You gasp, whirling around in surprise to reclothe your breasts.

Cool air blows against your bottom as your shirt also twists with your movement, but you reach back and yank it down.

“Oh, I am...uh, didn’t see anything?” The voice is deep, smooth. It puts you at ease even though you literally just exposed yourself to a complete stranger.

“No, no. It’s fine,” you tell him, voice strained with embarrassment. “It’s my fault, I didn’t know if there was a separate changing room. I just...didn’t see any.”

“Oh, um...it’s the door right across the hall. But you know what? I’ll actually just step right outside and let you finish.”

That’s so nice…”You don’t have to, I can just-”

You turn around to look at him, keeping your hands on your shirt to pull it down. One at the front. One behind.

Simultaneously, though you don’t notice, both your and his jaw drop.

It takes both of you a moment to find your voices and while he speaks, your mind is busy taking in his massive size.

He’s thick. Muscles bulking through the should-be loose wrap top he’s wearing. Like yours it’s a soft peach color, the same diamond shape you’d seen on your voucher under the UV light etched into the right breast.

With the top he wears loose pants, or somewhat loose around his knee and down to his ankles; there’s a pair of charcoal slippers on his feet. His thighs, like his arms and chest strain against the clothes he’d been given.

It’s clearly too small. You wonder if maybe this place doesn’t carry the outfit in his size. It’s very possible, considering his girth.

“Miss?”

His slightly concerned expression brings you back to yourself, now flustered because he’s caught you gawking at him.

“Sorry, I’m-you just surprised me and my brain’s a little-what did you say?”

“I’ll just step outside,” he doesn’t wait for you to respond as he backs up to the door then pulls it open and disappears through it, closing it gently behind him.

“What the hell was that?!” you gasp, angry at yourself for staring.

He’s hot! You couldn’t help it. He also looks familiar, though you can’t place the face. How you could possibly forget a face like that you have no idea.

While you change, you think about the smaller things you’d notice.

His hair is dark. Black. Curls that are carefully kept in place with hair products. His skin is a perfect pale peach. Not so pink as the clothes you’re pulling on, but it falls under the same shade. There didn’t seem to be a single blemish from what you were able to see.

A small tuft of chest hair had been peeking out of the V of the top. His face had been perfect, yes, but kind. There was a gentleness in it. The small curve of a smile had played on his rosebud pink lips. Not thin. Not thick. They were perfect.

He was perfect.

And those eyes...so blue. Like a clear spring sky. So bright and observant. There’s no way he didn’t catch you staring. Shit.

You note as you shove your underclothes into your locker out of where he might see them, that your own outfit for this spa leaves even less to the imagination than what must be the male uniforms.

Where the handsome stranger had pants, you were given very small shorts. Little more than boy short underwear in length. Parts of your bottom were threatening to overflow.

The top, while similar to the one the stranger wore, also came with a bandeau given the unique look of being wrapped around your chest when it so clearly is just one piece. You were expected to wear this underneath the looser wrap top.

Pulling it shut, you’re still tying the top closed around your waist as you hurry to the door where the stranger must still be waiting.

You open it...but he’s gone.

Disappointment floods through you. Surprising you.

You have no reason to want to see him, but you suppose you had just wanted to apologize for the awkwardness.

With a sigh you shut the door and move back to your locker to shove the rest of your belongings in just as a kind looking young woman no older than the receptionist at the front desk comes in with a smile.

“Are we ready for the diamond experience? You’re a very lucky lady!”

Even though you’re still only halfway sure you even want to go through with this whole thing, her excitement is catching and you find yourself nodding and scurrying after her as she shows you down the hall for your all expense paid spa day.

~~~~~~~~~~

You aren’t used to relaxation.

Not to this degree.

A gold facial? Full body exfoliation with sea salt and Indian kama oil? A rain massage which consisted of you being massaged with several different clays as warm water is cascaded down your body? An herbal bath with murky green water that leaves your skin feeling fresh--like mint but for your skin?

It’s too much!

You’re four hours into your spa session and you’re so sleepy you might pass out in this next one.

As you’re escorted by the same young lady who has been tending to you from the beginning, she opens the door of a long room, the outer wall of which is made up of endless glass panels that catch the rays of the sun.

As you step in, you’re assaulted by immediate drowsiness as your entire being is engulfed in slightly sticky heat.

This isn’t a sauna. It won’t make you sweat buckets. But it makes your skin dewy and your eyes droop.

“Oh, wow,” you gasp, suddenly wanting to run before you can collapse to the floor in unconsciousness.

Your escort laughs, “The hot room has that effect on all of our guests. Come, it looks like we’ve got a spot free over at the far end.”

Along this wall of glass, there are lounge chairs with soft cushions grouped in twos, separated by a lattice waterfall panel that tinkles pleasantly as it empties down into a bed of soft pebbles. On the table at the head of these seats is a pitcher of water, glasses, and a set of small handheld fans that one can use to cool off a bit in the heat. Just in case it becomes too much, you guess. Though you can’t imagine it will. The heat isn’t oppressive. Just consuming.

It’s everywhere but it’s not choking or frustrating.

“I hope you don’t mind if we put you next to one of our other single guests? Most of our diamond packages are used by couples, as you can see.”

Your escorts gestures at the chairs as you pass them and sure enough, every seat is taken with couples hiding behind large potted fan palms.

“No, I don’t mind,” you answer in single, as if you have any choice. “How long will I be in here?”

“An hour or so? If you’d like to exit early, there is a small button on the table by your lounge. Press it and I will come take you to your next experience,” she looks back and smiles at you.

You notice that you pass three spots without lounge seats and wonder silently why some of them have been removed. At the end of these empties is where the escort stops. A set of lounges in the very last spot against the wall.

“Here you are,” your escort smiles. “If you need anything, just give us a call.”

“Thank you,” you smile at her and squeeze between the potted palms.

Slightly nervous, you look for your unintended partner and gasp at the Adonis you’d thought you’d lost.

The sound draws his attention and his expression shifts from stoic concentration to soft smile, “Hey, it’s you again.”

It takes you a moment to find your voice because you’re too busy gawking again.

He’s not wearing a shirt or pants. That is, he’s wearing shorts. A lot longer than yours, reaching about the top of his thighs, but still short. Like briefs. It gives you a good view of every single muscle in his long legs and you suddenly envy anyone that’s ever had the privilege to ride that thigh.

What the fuck am I thinking?! You give our head a shake and try to focus on his face as he waits. It’s only a second too late.

“Yeah, hi. Sorry, I-” you avert your eyes and quickly take a seat in your own lounge chair to his left, keeping your eyes on anything other than the mass that is his chest.

Just as you’d thought, it’s covered in a mouthwatering line of chest hair that trailers down onto his stomach and makes an ever so subtle trail down, down, down...down...down…

He chuckles, “It’s alright. It’s only fair you get a good look too, right?”

You’re not even processing what he’s saying, unable to focus for a bit.

“You’re here alone?” It’s more an observation than a question but you answer anyway, grasping at the distraction.

“Yes,” you nod. “A gift from my boss.”

“Me too,” he turns a little in his seat so that he can look at you, but adjusting his angle so that he can still keep his legs up, one propped up as he rests his elbow on his knee. The other stretched out before him.

This draws your gaze back to him and you’re able to pay attention this time and ignore his very distracting body.

“Oh?”

“I mean, not my boss, but it was a gift from a friend. He thought I could use a nice relaxing day.”

The way he says it, sounds like you’re not the only one saddled with what you perceived was a burden or at the very least, a waste of time.

You grin, “Mine too. My boss. I saved the company I work with from a scandal and his idea of repaying me was to give me a spa day. A raise would have been more than enough.”

“Tell me about it,” the man says, smiling with stunning pearly whites.

His smile is gorgeous and you’re enamored again by how sweet he looks.

How can someone look like he can tear the head off a rhino and still look so adorable? It can’t be fair.

“Rent keeps going up and my job doesn’t pay nearly enough to keep up. At this rate I might end up having to move back to the farm.”

“Oh,” you reply lamely, piecing together where he might have grown his sculpted figure. Farm work can be grueling.

He gives you a look, assessing your response then waves his hand gently as if to swat away his complaint, “Sorry, don’t listen to me. I’ve got it better than most. You don’t need to be hearing about my problems.”

“No!” you rush to assuage his worry. “No, it’s okay. That sucks about your job. Is there no chance at a raise?”

“Not exactly, I have a uh, a hobby that keeps me from taking more work and I kind of get paid by assignment. I have a flat salary but working extra would definitely help with the bills.”

“What do you do?” you wonder, trying to picture this guy doing anything other than just looking like a God in a spa.

He could be a bodyguard? They get assignments. Construction? Personal trainer?

“I’m a journalist,” he tells you, speaking matter-of-factly as if it makes perfect sense.

You blink, then chuckle and then laugh once.

“What?” he asks, amused and smiling again as you chuckle. “What’s funny?”

“Nothing,” you shake your head. “It’s just, journalist is not where my mind went.”

He doesn’t seem surprised but he also doesn’t say anything else.

The two of you lapse into silence. It’s not uncomfortable and at least you don’t feel like you need to say anything to fill the dead air.

Twenty minutes pass and you lean back in your chair to relax, sighing lightly and smiling at the immaculate aura that this stranger seems to emanate.

It’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt before.

The longer you lay there, suddenly not sleepy at all, the more your curiosity grows. Turning towards him, you find him already looking at you.

This startles you but in a good way. You smile and the soft curve of his lips breaks into a full toothed smile.

Both of you move your lips to speak, but before you can either of you get a word in a rustle of palm leaves pulls both your attentions behind your seats.

You sit up, twisting a little to look at who’s come, expecting to see your escort or some other spa staff.

Instead you find a woman you’d spotted laying in another spot with who you’d thought was the other half of her couple. Her waist-length auburn hair clings to the skin of her bare shoulders and sides. She’s removed her top, leaving her in her bandeau.

“Hi,” she says to your stranger-wait not your stranger. Shoot.

He looks confused but not unfriendly, “Hello.”

“My friend finally talked me into coming over and talking to you,” she informs him.

“I see,” your-the stranger says.

The girl seems to be expecting something but the stranger just looks up at her expectantly. Awkwardly.

He looks at you and you quickly turn away from their conversation, pushing yourself to the end of the lounge to sit with your hands holding onto the edge, feet flat on the ground.

You try not to eavesdrop but they’re right there.

“What did you want to talk to me about?” he asks her, sounded polite but not uninterested.

You can hear the woman shifting from foot to foot, probably pushing her hips from side to side. Her figure is nice. Not like yours. She’s attractive, in a conventional way. In a magazine accepted way.

Your mood sinks the longer you ponder on this random girl and the stranger. There’s an endless string of disappointments that have built you into this person you are.

Insecurities made worse by words spoken by people that should have supported you or those you thought were on your side. Affections misplaced. Kindness taken advantage of. Betrayal. Worst of all the betrayal. Some small. Some big.

You know that you should be less shaky in your self worth. You know that you’re more than the words spoken and the actions taken that brought you to this point. But how do you turn it off? How to fight the thoughts that bring you down?

It’s not something you can do all at once. You know this. And yet feeling bad about yourself makes you feel guilty because you know it’s bad and that makes you feel worse. It’s an endless cycle.

You’re fully wallowing in your own self-pity before the girl even has a chance to answer the stranger’s question.

“Well, I noticed you came by yourself and I was wondering if maybe you wanted to have dinner sometime? Or maybe coffee?”

You don’t dare turn back, you just resign yourself to a lack of luck and stare out at nothing even though the view is really nice.

“Thank, I appreciate the offer, but I’m not looking for a date right now, I don’t really have the time,” the stranger says, giving her a diplomatic response.

Letting her down without letting her down.

“Oh, well,” there’s a beat of silence. “In case you change your mind, here’s my number. Call me, if you find some time?”

You hear her retreat and the soft shift of what must be a business card against the wood of the table behind the stranger’s chair.

Movement shifts in your periphery and you see that the stranger has moved to the end of his own lounge, mimicking your pose though he’s much bulkier and takes up much more space.

“That was weird,” he says, a small puff of air passing between his lips as he huffs a laugh.

“Why?”

“Well, she just came up to me, out of nowhere,” he clarifies.

“I’m pretty sure that’s not the first time that’s happened to you.”

The stranger seems to pick up on your mood shift, his face etched with concern as he tries to lean forward, head tilted a little as he strains for a better look at your face.

“Actually, that never happens to me,” he says. A lie?

“How about you?” he checks, probing gently to see if he can get you to talk.

“No. Never.”

“But you’re so-”

“I’m nothing,” you interrupt, the words an automatic response as if you’ve been hypnotized into saying those words exactly. A trained response.

The silence is no longer comfortable, but thick and heavy.

“Why would you say that?”

“Because it’s true. I’m nobody.”

It hurts to speak these words aloud. Words that have hurt you in the past. Words that have cut you time and again. Scars left behind by those people that should have loved you but didn’t.

“No one is nobody,” the stranger counters.

He watches you, observing.

You don’t like the front row seat he has to your wallowing. You try to pull yourself out of it but the hole just keeps getting deeper.

“I’m sorry,” you sigh, stealing a quick glance at him.

He’s still got his head tilted a little in pure concentration as he watches you, brow crinkled with focus.

It’s not judgement though, just intent. You can tell he’s really listening and it makes your heart flutter. No one has ever listened to you before. Not like this. Not with a deep desire to understand like he does.

He shakes his head, “Was it the girl coming over?”

You look away, feeling embarrassed, “She reminded me of someone I knew. Someone I dated.”

Nodding, he indicates that he’s listening.

You smile without humor, hurt by the memory, “He thought I should look like her. Or...he didn’t say exactly like her, but he said he wished I looked better.”

He frowns, his deep dislike for your story honest, “He doesn’t sound like a nice guy.”

“No, he wasn’t. He wasn’t like, evil or anything, but yeah. Not a nice guy,” you admit, accepting that in that case, it was definitely your boyfriend’s problem.

“But that’s not it?”

You look at him.

“There’s more to it?” he guesses.

You look out at the scenic view finally, not really seeing it but appreciating the colors at least.

“This spa day?” you begin, stealing another glance at him.

He turns to sit facing you, his elbows resting on his knees, hands clasped as his listening intensifies.

“The only reason I got it was because as I said before I saved the company I work for from being dragged into scandal. I also lost a bunch of money by losing the client but my boss was pretty pleased.

“But the only reason I even touched the account was because I was sorta forced to?” Is that the best way to describe what happened?

“How were you forced to deal with that account?”

“Well, I’m not exactly the best with making friends? I mean, I have had friends before. I just--I got really sick a while back and I lost most of them because I cancelled on plans a lot or I didn’t have the energy to maintain contact? Even texting felt like such a chore. Just the act of responding and-I guess they thought that I thought being friends with them was a chore, and that wasn’t it.

“I just couldn’t find the energy to try to do anything. Some days I wouldn’t even eat because I’d have to get up and make myself food and I barely got up to go to the bathroom much less make a meal.

“Anyway, I just kind of gave up and they did to and now, I don’t really have an in with people? I don’t say much and it’s not that I don’t want to talk, I just don’t have anything worth saying. Or maybe I just can’t think of anything? I don’t know. But it affects work relationships too.”

“How?” he asks.

You take a deep breath, looking down at your hands clinging to the edge of the lounge before releasing it slowly.

“It’s really just me getting in my feelings,” you shrug.

“What you feel is what you feel, even if you don’t think you should. Our pasts can affect us well into our futures.”

His encouragement helps, and you feel a little less vulnerable to share with him.

“I work in the PR department. There are six of us in total. We’re a pretty big company. Multinational big. So there’s one of us for every form of media. Since we all work for the same clients, bridging the gap, we usually spread the workload evenly.

“Or, the other five members of my team do. Sometimes they just forget that I’m there and I usually get stuck with the leftover work. I’m not one to complain, so-” you shrug. “But they forget me for other stuff too. Company dinners. Competitions for prizes in the office. Secret Santa. Stuff like that.

“It makes me feel alone.”

You chance a glance at him, and he’s still watching you but his eyes are far away for a bit as if he’s remembering something.

“I know how that feels,” he nods. “I’ve felt alone almost all my life in some ways. Luckily, I’ve made a few friends to help me see things a little differently but that loneliness will never really go away.

“I understand.”

You smile, feeling more and more at peace again with him. Calm, like he really does get it.

He responds to the shift in your expression by relaxing his own. A small crinkle forms at the corners of his eyes, a subtle curve of his lips.

Now that you’re both feeling a little better, you can admit to yourself that you were jealous. Not just because the girl was everything that you were made to think you should be, but because this stranger, gorgeous as he is, is so nice.

He’s sweet and you want that in your next partner. You want to have someone care about you genuinely. You’re a little ashamed of wanting to claim him. Do you even dare entertain the thought?

“Yeah, I think you probably do,” you smile wider, turning in your seat to face him like he’s facing you.

“Now that you know all about my depression, would you like to know my name?” you ask him, teasing a smile.

He smiles more freely, “On a first date? Isn’t that moving kinda fast?”

Your stomach tumbles, heart sprinting at his words.

“A date?”

He only smiles wider, your heart stuttering before taking off at double speed again.

You tell him your name and then bite your lip, unable to believe your good luck.

“What about that other girl? You told her you weren’t looking for a date,” you wonder.

“Well, how can I be looking for a date when I’m already on one? Besides, how many girls do you think I can come across before I find another one wearing a shirt about my favorite book again?” he asks, all sincerity.

“Your favorite book is to Kill a Mockingbird?”

His smile is blinding.

“It’s really nice to meet you,” he nods, reaching out to shake your hand. “My name is Clark. Clark Kent.”

You take it and almost faint as your head goes dizzy at the soft touch of his skin.

The veins of his forearm bulge as he squeezes gently but he doesn’t actually shake it and instead seems to just hold your hand.

“Wait, I’ve seen your editorials before. You work at the Daily Planet.”

“I do,” he nods.

Your stomach suddenly falls, jealousy raking up along your ribs to settle around your heart to make it ache.

“Aren’t you dating Lois Lane? I thought-you two went to one of my boss’s parties together.”

It had been so long ago. Months and months. You remember Mr. Wayne going on about his friends Clark and Lois. You hadn’t met them, but Mr. Wayne had left to greet them when they’d arrived.

Clark’s own face falls just a tad, a small melancholic shift but it’s not deep. He keeps his smile, though smaller, and nods.

“We broke up last year,” he confesses, still not releasing your hand.

His thumb grazes against the back of it, sending goosebumps up from that point to spread along your arms and the rest of your body.

“I’m...not sorry?” you laugh, unable to help yourself because how can you be sorry about it now?

Clark also chuckles, “You know, right now, suddenly I’m not either.”

Before you can think of something cute to say, your stomach gurgles loudly, announcing to anyone close enough to hear that you’re hungry.

“Oh,” you utter, embarrassed as you finally take your hand back to rub your belly. “Sorry, I guess I haven’t eaten in a bit.”

“They have a menu here, I’ll grab us one.”

He rises and is gone before you can stop him and holy hell does he have a nice butt.

Watching him leave, you contemplate the way he used the word “us” so casually and wiggle with the pleasure it gives you.

As quick as you can, you look for any reflective surface and settle on the window across from you on which you can barely see yourself.

It’s enough though and you quickly go about fixing your hair which is surprisingly not bad even after all the treatments you’ve undergone.

A soft voice calls your name, the young woman who’s been escorting you.

“Hi, are you ready for your next treatment?” she smiles at you politely, kindly even, her body slightly bent down so that she won’t speak too loud and disturb the other people enjoying the hot room.

“Oh, um...I’m actually super hungry and I was going to order something to eat?”

The idea of being taken away to somewhere that you can’t be around Clark devastates you. You haven’t been this into anyone in so long.

“Oh okay! What would you like to order? Did you get a menu?”

The young woman gestures over her shoulder as if asking if she should go get you one.

“Actually-” but you don’t get to explain because Clark suddenly steps up to loom over both of you.

He doesn’t mean to, you don’t think, he’s just so big and he kind of naturally just looms.

“Hi,” he greets her kindly, and she flushes.

You can’t blame her. She takes a step back to put some space between herself and Clark and she’s seriously flustered. He’s hot.

Clark squeezes back by and sits himself in his seat before opening the paper menu and leaning towards you to give you a look.

You read through the choices quickly and nothing looks too crazy.

“Ooh, this one looks good,” you tell him, pointing down at the bottom of the menu.

“Should we get that one?”

“Yeah!” you reply eagerly, excited for the food.

You’re really very hungry.

“Can we get the gourmet pizza?” Clark asks, “And an order of the mini muffins? What kind are they?”

“Blueberry today,” the girl informs him, back to her composed and professional attitude.

“Two orders of those. And…”

“You don’t offer any kind of burger?” you ask the young woman looking back at her.

She smiles kindly but shakes her head, “No, sorry. The closest would be the sandwiches. We have tuna, cucumber, egg salad, and ham.”

While they sound like normal sandwiches, you have a suspicion that they’re going to be fancy in one way or another.

“Can we have an order of the tuna?”

She nods.

“And we’ll get the chocolate fondue, for desert?” Clark adds, folding up the menu and handing it to your escort.

“Alrighty, and for drinks? We can bring just plain water or perhaps some herb infused tea?”

“Do you have any sweet tea?” you wonder.

She nods.

“Two please,” Clark smiles. “Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome,” your escort says and hurries off to put in the order.

Both of you watch her go then when you meet Clark’s eyes, he laughs, just once. Failing to keep it inside.

“Did we order too much?” you wonder.

“I’m hungry too,” Clark assures you.

“I really wanted a burger,” you lament. “I mean, this food will probably be better than some greasy burger but-”

“A burger sounds like heaven. I love greasy burgers. Double meat. Triple cheese. Lots of pickles.”

He makes a funny face, pretending to salivate over the image he’s painted and while it’s a subtle change in his expression, you can tell that he’s more prone to being serious and that makes the gesture funnier for some reason.

You laugh, shaking your head.

He laughs with you, leaning back in his lounge.

You follow his lead, then turn onto your side and shove an arm underneath your head.

He mimics your pose, drawing his long legs up a little to bend them.

“I’m sorry about earlier, with the locker room? I really didn’t know that I wasn’t supposed to change in there.”

Clark’s smiles shift to a soft curve of his lips.

“I’m the one that should be apologizing,” he counters. “I walked in on you.”

“But you had no idea I’d be in there half naked, I kinda just thrust my body at you.”

There’s a beat, he looks down at your chair instead of maintaining eye contact, then, “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

Your neck is suddenly on fire. Cheeks, ears, the base of your belly. It all burns as your heart stutters.

As he looks up to meet your eyes again, those baby blues burning with a striking spark, something he said when you first came in here replays itself in your head.

You frown, narrowing your eyes at him, “Hey, when I came in here, I apologized for staring at your naked upper body and you said that it was only fair I get a good look too.

“Are you saying you saw me when you clearly said you didn’t in the locker room?!”

Clark averts his eyes, clearing his throat loudly before throwing himself onto his back to stare up at the ceiling.

“I’m gonna have to get my friend something really good in return for gifting me this spa day,” Clark says, pointedly changing the subject.

But he has a point. This has been the best little indulgence you’ve ever given yourself and none of it could have been possible without Mr. Wayne’s generosity.

“Me too. I’ll have to make sure my boss knows how glad I am that he forced me to come here.”

Clark smiles, “What’s your next treatment? Did you pick them before you came?”

“We could do that?” You gasp.

Clark just smiles wider.

“No, I’m just going with the flow. The girl who took our order has been suggesting stuff and I’ve just been going with it.”

“I have a fresh water soak after this. You should join me.” Clark offers.

After the hot room, a swim in some fresh water sounds like heaven. And extending your time with Clark is a definite bonus.

“Aren’t we not supposed to swim for thirty minutes after we eat?” you tease.

Clark chuckles, “It’s a soak.”

Then, his voice shifts and you’re knocked breathless as he basically pleads with you.

“Join me. Only if you want to. I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to.”

Your brain is buzzing with that pleading voice of his. Gentle urging that betrays his want to be with you rather than wanting to control you.

“A fresh water soak sounds amazing.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Nothing could ever top today. You and Clark stuck together the rest of the day. It was fun getting to know him and exciting because the longer you two spent time together, the closer he sat to you.

As you dropped your spa outfit into a canvas souvenir bag that your attendee had given you at your last treatment--a couple’s massage that you and Clark had talked all the way through--Clark peeked around his own locker door, shutting it.

“So, I was thinking,” he began, moving to lean beside your locker as he towers over you, making you internally swoon with the curve of his lips.

“Yeah?” you urge him on, taking your other belongings and throwing them into the canvas bag along with your spa outfit which is also free for you to take.

“I have some things to do tonight but, how would you like to get some burgers tomorrow?”

“Are you asking me out on a second date, Clark?” as much as you wish you could sound like you were teasing, your excitement betrays you and Clark beams at your tone.

“Definitely,” he says low and deep.

Fuck, you’re totally screwed. You’re falling hard.

You really want to reach up and gently slide the curl falling on his forehead to the side lightly, but you resist the urge.

“I’d love to go out and get greasy burgers with you,” you bite your lip and Clark’s expression shifts a bit more serious but there’s a fire in his eyes, a darkening as his pupils dilate that makes your heart stutter.

“Come on,” Clark nods towards the door. “I’ll walk you out.”

He bumps into you, flirtatiously nudging you as he leads you out and you return his gentle push with your own.

“Had you been to a spa like this before?”

“No,” Clark shakes his head. “I actually don’t get much benefit at these places. It feels good, but it’s not really my thing. You?”

“I feel cleaner than I ever have,” you scoff. “But I could never afford it. Even the cheap places. I’d rather just take a walk around a park or something.”

“Me too,” Clark agrees, smiling.

As the two of you walk out into the parking lot, the cooler air outside feels pleasant against your treated skin.

In the setting sun light, Clark looks especially good and you can’t help yourself. You steal several glances at him with no worry as to hiding it.

You’re happy to see he’s doing it too.

“Oh good,” a familiar voice interrupts, pulling your feet to a stop as you search for your boss’s face. “You two met.”

“Wait, us two-?”

“Bruce?” Clark also stops beside you, eyes narrowed, a crinkle between his eyes.

You look between the two of them, confused but starting to put two and two together.

“Bruce? You-Mr. Wayne is your friend who gave you the voucher?” you realize.

Clark looks at you, his own realizations starting to manifest.

“Bruce is your boss?”

Mr. Wayne moves towards the two of you, hands shoved into his long charcoal gray coat. There’s a satisfied grin on his handsome face, a pride in what you realize must have been a carefully crafted maneuver.

Clark looks at you, a knowing smile on his face as if amused but maybe also a little irritated? Not with you, of course. Clearly his annoyance is with Mr. Wayne.

“You did this,” he accepts, looking back at Mr. Wayne with a tilt of his head.

“I didn’t do anything,” Mr. Wayne denies. “I just gave you two a free day at the spa. Did she tell you why I gave her the voucher?”

“She did,” Clark nods.

“Not every PR rep would overlook a five hundred million dollar investment in order to keep us clean from associating with a suspected illegal arms dealer. Most of them would just look the other way.” Mr. Wayne brags.

A look of understanding crossing Clark’s face and he looks down at you, smiling again as if he’s pieced together a puzzle.

“It was really nothing, Mr. Wayne, and thank you for today. I-I’m actually really glad I came. I would have hated it if the voucher expired.”

“Expired?” Clark asks, turning that confused look back on his friend. “They don’t expire.”

Mr. Wayne clears his throat and turns his full body away from you both, looking back at his shiny expensive sports car.

“Yeah, they do,” he says.

“Bruce,” Clark chides.

“We’re gonna be late,” Mr. Wayne says, ignoring Clark’s reprimand, then looks at you as he pretends he wasn’t just caught in a lie. “Do you have a ride home?”

“Yeah, I brought my car,” you gesture at a modest white sedan parked a few spots over.

“Good. I’ll see you on Monday. Clark?” Mr. Wayne urges him, then walks towards his car.

“I’ll be right there,” Clark tells him, then waits for you to lead the way to your car.

Your heart is still thrumming rapidly with the realization that Mr. Wayne went out of his way to make sure you and Clark met. A set up?

You stop by your car door and unlock it. Clark is quick to take the door from you as you open it and he holds it with his left arm as you turn to look up at him.

“I had a lot of fun today, despite the obvious premeditation of us meeting,” you scoff. “I’m glad I met you.”

You’re quickly becoming acquainted with the gentle curve of Clark’s lips, the peek of his pearly whites as he blushes and meets your eyes.

“I’m glad Bruce interfered,” he nods. “I’ll see you tomorrow for burgers?”

“I wouldn’t miss it,” you assure him.

After a moment of hesitation, he reaches out and places his hand on your bicep then traces the length of your arm until he can take your hand.

It sets your skin on fire. It makes you dizzy and breathless.

“You have my number,” you remind him, eager to reconnect if he has the time.

He gives you that pearly smile, blue eyes full of excitement, “I’ll call you later. Tonight?”

You nod, “Tonight.”

He waits for you to get in, shutting the door for you when you’re sitting.

You lower the window as he backs away, “Bye.”

“Bye,” he nods, then turns to meet Mr. Wayne at his car.

“What?” Bruce asks, “It’s been months. She’s perfect for you.”

“Really?!” you can hear Clark demand, more annoyed with his friend again than any consequences his actions might have brought, however positive.

“You like her, don’t you?” Mr. Wayne asks.

“That’s not the point, Bruce. Boundaries.” Clark reminds him. “Why did you lie to her?”

“I knew you were coming today, I had to get her here,” Mr. Wayne explains. “Besides, you’re-”

As their doors shut, you’re cut off from their distant conversation. You shut your window, watch them speed out, and smile to yourself at the unexpected turn your spa day took.

#clark kent x reader #superman x reader #clark x reader #dceu fanfiction #dc fanfiction #clark kent #superman #bruce wayne #batman #dc oneshot

359 notes · View notes

side-writes-fanfics · 4 years ago

Text

Late-night talks || One-shot

Pairing: Ryomen Sukuna x fem!reader

Word count: ≈2000

Genre: it was supposed to be angst but it's really just fluff

Tw: Sukuna is kinda ooc, ngl

Summary: usually, you'd talk to Yuuji during the nights you felt restless but today, it was very much different. One night started a habit that definitely shouldn't have started.

Feel free to leave a or two or more request in my asks!

Masterpost | Asks/Requests

ꕥ ꕥ ꕥ

(Y/N) walked down the long dormitory halls, her insomniac brain refused to allow her to rest after the hard day she’d had. On one hand, it was fantastic, filled with thrill and learning opportunities! On the other, however, the girl had gone through so much intense training and failure that she wanted nothing more than a good night's sleep. And yet, the thoughts in her head flew and a high speed and there was no way in hell that they would stop any time soon. So, as any sane person would do, instead of reading a book or being productive and taking the time to practise some techniques that wouldn’t blow the entire room up, (Y/N) decided to knock on Itadori’s room door and mess his sleep up as well.

Her hands made contact with the wood once. Then quickly twice. Then three times before the door opened to reveal the figure she had been anticipating. Only something seemed a little off. While she wasn’t thinking Itadori would be wearing a shirt as it is the middle of the damn night, the markings on his entire body suggested that it wasn’t Itadori who stood in front of her. Rather, Sukuna had taken over his body for the night and wasn’t planning on leaving the boy alone.

“You really want him to be dead tomorrow, huh?” (Y/N) whispered to the curse, chuckling at the thought of Yuuji not being able to hold his eyes open for long enough to get out of bed, let alone all the “fun” activities Gojo said he had planned for us. Now, you might be wondering why the absolute fuck were you not shaking in your boots at that very moment? I mean, you’re talking to the King of Curses, the man himself. This guy could probably snap you in half with one movement if he wanted to. Well, for one, you had no boots to shake in as you were walking in the stupidest pair of slippers money could buy. Secondly, Sukuna was well aware that if he hurt you, or any of the students of Jujutsu High for that matter, his life would be cut much shorter by the president of the school without any hesitation. Even Gojo couldn’t do anything about it because he cared for you just as much as Itadori. He cared for all of the students the same, no matter how much others thought Yuuji was the only one who got his love. (Y/N), of course, knew this and took advantage of it as much as she could, without pushing the limits and getting herself into danger.

“You’re the one talking, pipsqueak,” Sukuna said, shooting the girl an unamused glare. “Coming in the middle of the night to wake up this brat isn’t much better than what I’m doing.” (Y/N) rolled her eyes, walking past the curse and into Itadori’s room. Sukuna stared at her confused but before he could continue further, (Y/N) cut him off.

“Get in the room and close the door. If Gojo catches me out of my room at this ungodly hour of the night, I’m gonna be dead and if you get caught with me, it isn’t going to be taken lightly by the higher-ups.” The girl made her way over to the bed, making herself comfortable while Sukuna listened to her orders, even though he didn’t want to.

“That sounds like you’re the one who causes all the trouble here and not me.”

(Y/N) smirked, letting out a little chuckle. “And yet, I don’t care about that much.” She propped herself up, now in a sitting position. Sukuna rolled his eyes at her, sitting on the opposite side of the bed.

The two stared at each other in silence. What were you even expecting? Neither of them was used to being in each other’s presence. They barely interacted due to reasons outside of their control. (Y/N) went on missions a lot, barely spending any time in the presence of Itadori. When she did have time to hang out, Sukuna never actually spoke or came out and showed his presence. Sukuna didn’t want to talk because he did enjoy the company and anything he wanted to say at first would have just made her leave. (Y/N) didn’t want to speak up because of her poor social skills. Everything she knew about socialisation, which wasn’t that much, had been thrown out the window by the lack of contact she had with other people. To be frank, even if they sat in silence (Y/N) would have sat there until the moment she was tired. It was better than being alone in her room staring at the ceiling.

“Why’d you even come here in the middle of the night?” Sukuna spoke up, not wanting to leave the room silent. Unlike (Y/N), he hated the silence. He could not take it. When the curse was on his own, whether it be in the form of Itadori or inside of his domain, Sukuna didn’t mind it. He was left alone to his own devices and was able to do as he pleased, but being around another person in complete silence drove him crazy.

“Uh… I couldn’t sleep.” her body positioned herself in a sitting fetal position, resting her head on the top of her knees. “Yuuji lets me come to his room when that happens and we just chat about random things until I feel tired.” Both of them stared at each other, waiting for who was going to speak next. It was hard to keep the conversation going as of now, both of the participants carefully thought about their words as to not upset the other. Still, (Y/N) said something to fill the silence: “What about you? Why are you in control of Yuuji’s body?”

“I felt like it.”

(Y/N) blinked at him, not believing her ears. “That’s… that’s it?” she said in disbelief.

“Are you not satisfied with that answer, pipsqueak?” The man crossed his arms and lifted a brow. The girl crossed her arms as well, pushing her back against the wall behind her. She contemplated once more all the choices she could make at this moment, though, to an outside view, (Y/N) looked as if she was scared to say anything at all. Sukuna’s chuckle broke her out of her contemplative daze. “It’s boring inside of where I am for days upon days upon days. Sometimes I need to feel alive, even if it’s just switching with this brat and walking around his room.”

The girl let out a ‘hm’ sound, nodding to indicate she understood his reasons. Slowly, the two began having normal...ish conversations without the awkward pauses between topic and sentences. They began to slow as if they’ve been long term friends with natural progression. And as all natural progression goes, this became a regular thing. (Y/N) couldn’t sleep more often, Sukuna wanted to walk around the world more often, them talking happened more often. Though, these little meetings in the middle of the night that consisted of senseless trains of thought being put into words stayed secret between just the two of them. Not even Itadori knew that (Y/N) snuck into his room as often as she did. Yuuji knew and welcomed her coming to his room to speak to him when she needed company. There were times where she snuck in and Itadori was in his own body. The girl hated to admit it but she felt sad when she couldn’t speak to the curse inside his body. Indeed, she should have felt ashamed but something just didn’t let her. (Y/N) liked Sukuna’s company. Even with the… talks about not so good things he’s done that were bound to come up at some points in time.

There came a day where (Y/N) realised it. Realised that she, as a jujutsu sorcerer, shouldn’t feel the way she feels about him. He's done so much wrong. Why does it not bother her that much? She stared at the ceiling. Her thoughts haunted her throughout the day, not letting a moment pass without her thinking about it. It was obvious she wasn’t going to sleep tonight. Leaving to go talk to the curse, however, seemed to be a tiny bit paradoxical. Her worries were caused by him. She didn’t want to end the friendship they had built. Then again, was this really for the best? Were the talks really a smart idea? Was continuing to see him and forming an emotional bond going to bring anything but pain and sorrow?

Knock, knock, knock.

‘Who could be knocking on her door at 3 in the bloody morning?’ the girl thought to herself, getting up to answer the door. As soon as she opened it, she mentally slapped herself for being stupid. I mean who else could have it been other than the curse himself.

“I see you’re awake,” he said, “though, you decided not to come and talk to me.” A brow lifted on (Y/N)’s face.

“And you decided to come to me instead, huh?” she smirked at the man, moving to give him space to enter the room. “Have you started caring about me? Have you softened up to little old me?” she poked and teased him, trying to forget what she’d been thinking about moments before. Sukuna entered, only to stop in the middle of the room.

“I need to talk to you about something…” her heart stopped. ‘Shit shit shit and shit.’ her thoughts became quicker and her heart raced as if it were running a marathon she was not ready for. Why would she have said what she said? Was it that she got too comfortable around him. “What you said… about me caring about you…” he paused, trying to find the words to say. (Y/N) looked at him turned away from her, anticipating his next words. “It’s true… I am softer towards you than anyone else. In these past two months you... You’ve made your way to my heart. You make me feel. You make me feel,” he said quietly, fiercely, making (Y/N)’s heart skip a beat or two. He turned towards her, his face more serious than you’d want it to be in this moment. “and I don’t like it. I want it to stop. Now.”

(Y/N) blinked. Absolutely taken aback at his words. “I’m sorry, what?” She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. He confessed that he cared about her. That she made him feel a certain way. And yet somehow he’s rejecting her? Nothing makes sense. She didn’t even confess to him and she feels hurt. “I… don’t-”

“Why do I feel like this?” Sukuna cut her off and stared at her, hoping she would solve the problem with a few simple words.

“I- I don’t know why you feel like you do!” she squeaked out, still unsure what was happening, “I mean I don’t even know how you feel.”

“I don’t know either.” (Y/N) paused, lifting her hand towards his. Her eyes flicked towards his, silently asking permission to hold his hand. He squinted at her. For a man who claims to be a genius and has years and years of life experience, his social skills seemed to be lacking when we’re talking about kindness. The girl kept quiet, putting her hand closer. It gently touched his, sending a clearer message of what it was she wanted. Sukuna let out a slight ‘oh’, before embracing her hand into his. Her heart skipped a beat again. She cursed herself silently, understanding that she was feeling the same way as he was.

“What are we going to do, pipsqueak?” Sukuna asked her, confused out of his mind. It was rare that anyone saw him as bewildered as he was right now.

“We’ll… figure it out I guess…” a smile tugged at (Y/N)’s lips. It was terrifying, there’s a lot in their way and a lot of things they have to set straight, but for now, this seemed to be the most they could do.

ꕥ ꕥ ꕥ

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fluff #jjk sukuna #ryomen sukuna #jjk ryomen #sukuna #sukuna ryomen #sukuna x reader #sukuna x fem!reader #x reader #one shot #imagine #drabble #was supposed to be angst but i cannot bring myself to write anything but fluff rn #fanfic #fanfiction

300 notes · View notes

jiminrings · 4 years ago

Note

umm maybe this is me projecting bc i am messaging you during my break but for a drabble request, yoongi in a retail setting???? 😐😐😐😐 oc could either be a co-worker or a regular customer who asks too many questions 😔😌

retail-type beat

drabble week: day three

drabble week masterlist

pairing: customer!yoongi x retail worker!reader

wordcount: 3k

glimpse: "hi! almost thought you were hiding from me for a second. anyways, is this sweater wool or cotton?"

feedback + support mean the world to me!!

the last time you checked, work doesn’t start until nine

you kNEW it doesn’t start until 9 in the morning, so clearly that’s why you’re just wearing slides instead of your sneakers

the company uniform is either black or purple (it has to be from what the store is selling though so you can get to choose) with of course!!!! a lanyard!!!!

and you know this, because you’re still wearing your slides from home because it isn’t opening time yet

“goddamn it, i forgot to bring my slippers,” jin moans the moment he walks to see you, looking down on your feet that only reminds him he’d be stuck in his cool yet painfully uncomfy sneakers

he’s probably the only co-worker that you’re truly close with, not feeling the urge to sell him just to get a free day

“i told you to get the sneakers that nurses use!!”

hands-down one of the best purchases you’ve ever made

retail’s hard and it’s not exactly the best-paying job!!! thankfully the franchise owner is a bit more generous so that’s why you get slightly-higher hourly pay

“i would if they looked a little more seasoned,” jin snorts and stubbornly crosses his arms, “i might sacrifice my pride and buy some compression socks.”

OOOOOH THOSE ARE GOOD TOO

makes you feel like ur walking on air

but lol no seokjin isn’t ready to buy those just yet

he’ll settle on some blisters and putting salonpas patches because they look cooler that way, thank u very much <3

jin yawns, talking about finding a steam iron somewhere to replace a blowdryer so he could break in his shoes

“you wipe the glass this time.”

oh right he absolutely hates wiping down the glass — even before opening!!! even when there aren’t any grubby kids that would soil it instantly with their equally as grubby hands

you don’t mind it honestly

you might honestly like it

you prefer wiping the glass a hundred times over than steaming clothes

there is nOT a single thought in your head when you spray on the solution to the glass, rag and squeegee tucked between your fingers when-

maybe you should’ve hOLY FUCKING SHIT

it’s not opening!!!! it is nOT nine o’clock in the morning!!!!

you know that the shop you’re working in is pretty fucking famous and it’s located on one of the most populated streets ever BUT THERE’S ALREADY SOMEONE

although the bucket hat seems familiar from a distance and-

oh it’s just yoongi

yoongi?

yoongi’s already here????

yoongi, the guy in question, is an always customer!!

no, not a regular customer — an always customer

he comes every week and maybe even twice within that period

he’s a nice talkative customer who likes asking questions and even occasionally guides the other customers on what to buy and where to find it

he’s yoongi!!! of course that’s expected of him

he’s been going here long since you ever started working here, and jin keeps iNSISTING that he’s been here more frequently since you started like a year ago

but doesn’t he come at eleven in the morning?

“woah, yoongi’s already here? — doesn’t he come at eleven in the morning?”

?!!?!!

“i was just thinking the exact same thing.”

jin bangs the glass with his fist and you automatically wince and frown

you dO like cleaning the glass panes!! you didn’t say you liked cleaning them a second time :(

“YOONGI!”

“YES??”

you push jin’s fist away to wipe at the smudge his hand left

“IT’S NOT OPENING YET!”

“I KNOW!!”

wow they’re uh

they’re really loud

sometimes you forget how seokjin could be since it’s been awhile since you heard him yell

lol no one’s been shoplifting recently so you haven’t been hearing him

a mind-blowing idea is for jin to come outside and talk to him in a normal talking voice, so your ears would stop ringing

“HEY! WHAT IF YOU JUST ENTER EARLY IN?”

“REALLY? IS THAT EVEN ALLOWED??”

"YOONGI, EVERYONE ON THE FLOOR KNOWS YOUR NAME. NAMJOON EVEN GAVE YOU A CUSTOMARY BIRTHDAY GIFT, AND WE DON'T GIVE CUSTOMARY BIRTHDAY GIFTS TO ANY OTHER CUSTOMER!!"

namjoon, who technically should be called mr. kim because no one really thinks to call the franchise owner with their government first name, is actually pretty cool

but he's too busy these days and haven't been visiting because he's too busy tending to his newly-opened coffee shop

as if the money he earns from opening his franchise in a day alone isn’t enough :0

"IF YOU SAY SO?"

you’re the one who hikes up the roll-up door in the slightest, enough for only yoongi to enter and not encourage anyone else to nOT enter when it’s still not opening time!!!!

he only has to crouch a little but he still has to dust his thousand-dollar pants as if he crawled through mud

his cream-colored slacks with a large black hoodie that has a giant bear embroidered on the middle of it and mules

... you don't hate his outfits

pretty cute, actually

it's yoongi!!

you'd never catch him lacking!!!

you don't even have to envision him rocking the shit out a paper bag

one time, he came in the store wearing the WRINKLIEST brown linen jumpsuit that no iron could possibly fix and he still pulled it off

toon-teen-ten!

oh god that’s the sound of the intercom

and the sound of the intercom equates to jungkook

... as in jeon jungkook who’s the floor manager and his constant top one goal for every month is to endearingly annoy seokjin

he’s young and mischievous!! but if you were to ask him, only you and jungkook are the people in this floor he’d actually get drinks with outside the shop

“seokjin come to the lingerie department right now, please.”

you see the thing is :D

“now this is just funny

there’s walkie-talkies for everyone here!! jungkook likes intercoms, and seokjin like yelling!!

“WHY ME AGAIN?? I’VE ALREADY FOLDED-“

“there’s a literal rat and i need yOU to catch it!! you know that i hate rodents!!”

him and jungkook are forever gonna be on this eldest-youngest brother dynamic and while jungkook pouts and shared the extras that he gets, jin is the one who kills the bugs :D

10/10 totally fair

fine then!! he’ll catch that goddamn rat

that leaves you and yoongi. alone.

“why did you come so early this time?”

you ask out of courtesy, genuinely baffled too because you know that yoongi’s a creature of habit

yoongi’s eyes pop out, head fervently shaking no

“i’m typically not the type to do that, no.”

???

is he-

are you-

are you both talking about the same thing

yoongi’s face flushes in embarrassment, his mind just then registering what you were actually saying

“o-oh! it’s because last night, i dreamt of the sweater i saw here last week!!"

oh right

typical :D

"need me to find it for you or do you already know the aisle?"

you align the folded shirts by the corners as you pass, looking at yoongi briefly while he trails behind yoh

“not unless you pulled it out already."

he's hoping that dear god you haven't

the black sweater with the moon aND buildings on it and when you turn on the flash, the windows of said building reflect it right back???

he SHUDDERS just by thinking about it

it’s gonna go with everything!!! an instant boost of serotonin every time he sees it

"for you, yoongi?" you shake your head, a small smile on your face that he only sees every once in a while, "i'd comb through the entire stock room."

wait

that’s sweet :((

“i’ll hold you to that.”

you know what??? you're less cranky when it's only him, and a couple of hundred people less

your smiles aren't for customer-service and you don't have misplaced clothes hanging from your shoulders and your walkie-talkie isn't talking in latin

or when no one’s asking you to reach something from the top shelf

or when you’re on the way to the intercom because a kid got separated from their mother

or when someone’s approaching for a refund for a shirt who has a stain that’s 100% no doubt customer error

his feet immediately move on its own because he’s memorized the outline of this too many times

there it is!!!

the sweater he’s dreamt about is already on his hands, only a handful few left

the piece is considerably more expensive than majority of the items here, so that’s why they’re all spaced-out instead of being clustered altogether

yoongi rarely goes to the dressing room, regardless if it's a full-house or not!!

he could just look at an item and immediately tell that it’s made for him ta know

he's beyond sure that this sweater fits him perfectly, but he may want to be here a little longer

yoongi may have say inside one of the fitting rooms and spent a little time in it just to sit on the chair inside, not fitting the sweater at all

he's gotten his item SO quick and he wished he could've just walked slower or pretended to not know where it was!!!

he wants to spend a little more time here

you don't hate yoongi!!! but sometimes he could just be... yoongi

he's quite talkative and strikes it whenever, making you unguarded

he could be overbearing but like an overbearing kind of nice

yoongi’s nice!! he’s the type to ask a lot of questions sure, but he’s also the type that would point the other customers what to buy and where to find it

he’s the type to find an obvious faulty stitch on a shirt, but he’d just quietly exchange it instead of asking for the manager

he’s the type you wouldn’t want to stand behind in line because it would take a long time for him to finish, but he’s also the same one who buys giftcards with generous amounts for family and friends

yoongi’s kind of cool and that’s cemented on your mind

"what do you got for me?"

he materializes out of nowhere, spooked because you thought he already ringed up and was out of the store already

it just happens to be ten minutes before opening and you’re doing last-minute arrangements on a new spread

well, yoongi most certainly is still here and his attention’s piqued

“we have... a new collection."

you clear your theory, awkwardly gesturing because you’re more than aware that yoongi hasn’t seen this either

“yeah, i know that. but like, what's going on??" he gestures to the displays and racks, squinting his eyes, "what's the theme? what's the material?"

uhm you haven't read the brief about this

you aren't even sURE if there is one!!

doesn't everyone make up something on the spot in retail

or atleast that’s what seokjin tells you

“the theme," you clear your throat, scratching your temple before gesturing towards the full rack, "is everything."

“everything?

yoongi’s eyebrow is raised, not expecting that answer at all

you look back to the new feature, and nOW that you think about it,, there's no cohesion at all

“y-yes. the shop was going for the theme of uhm, everything... all at once — yeah, that's it. everything all at once."

it’s a nice way to put it when not one bit of the new collection goes together

“hmmmm. i like it,” yoongi nods solemnly and tilts his head, “and the material?"

"the material?"

you repeat, eyesight not the best so you can’t really tell anything off the bat or uh aNYTHING really

"t-the material is shirt."

they're all shirts!!! that’s it

yoongi grimaces in disgust, the first time you’ve seen of it

“what?? you can't say that.”

he outsretches his hand to the nearest article, holding it up by the hanger

"this, right here, is satin. see how it shines like silk, but doesn't feel like silk?"

uhm yes

you have a gist of what he’s saying but yes

yoongi picks up a pink button shirt this time, flipping it inside out

"this, is silk charmeuse. look at the inside, is it smooth?"

okay where is he going with this

he urges you to put your hand on the fabric and uhhh you didn't sign up for this???

it looks smooth, sure!! end of discussion

"yea-..."

“it's not. it's rough. it is smooth, but it's dull. silk charmeuse is still silk, but the backing it has is different from the lustrous part."

okay yoongi

you’re starting to feel uncomfortable and it has to do something with the tone he’s using on you

“can't believe you didn't know that!! how about this," he plucks out a shirt with a tiny print at the middle of it, "cotton or polyester and rayon?"

"i don't-"

there’s an itch in your neck that you want to scratch, a tell-tale sign that you just wANT to remove yourself from this situation

“come on!! it's a dead giveaway!!"

:((

why is he being like this?

toon-teen-ten!

“y/n, panty section please. jin almost got bit by a mouse and he needs comforting. two minutes until opening, people!!"

jungkook speaks at the right moment, and jin’s little incident is enough of a reason for you to bolt

yoongi's still looking at you but you can't afford to embarrass yourself further

“bye. happy shopping."

huh?

yoongi’s face falls when you leave as cold as that!! typically when you were going to show him out (when it’s regular shop hours), there’d be a smile :((

there's not even a customer service smile :(((

yoongi goes to the only cashier that's open so far and it happens to be far away from you and a teary seokjin

seokjin's fine he didn't even get bit!! that much he could say

but are you okay? uhhh you kinda went cold on him by the end and he thought he started on a good note

yoongi doesn't visit for another week and you don't find yourself counting the days until you meet him again

you did not have a devil wears prada moment where anne hathaway has an epiphany for fashion knowledge

you just felt belittled at a job that isn’t exactly what you wanted anyways

needed, yes. but wanted? not exactly

you know that basic knowledge about clothes is required in a retail job like this and you have it!! you do!!!!

you’d know more if only there were actual available resources for employees to know!!! nobody besides yoongi asks anyways

you’d know if you have time to yourself and aren’t working two jobs trying to make ends meet and tHEN you could pull up a book or something!!!

you’d know if your life is as lax as yoongi’s and could have the budget to buy new things for yourself every single week

“jin, i need to ask you something.”

he hums as called, looking at you briefly until you get on with it

“do you know the difference between silk and silk charmeuse?"

he shrugs casually while you're sitting inside one of the closed-off fitting rooms to catch a break, sharing a burger because the store’s packed-packed

why did you ask him? it’s too easy

“one's made by worms, and the other's a pokémon."

that,.,., could not possibly be righti* it brings you a laugh and you honestly don’t even try to correct him

it’s 11:15 and you kNOW it’s time to resume your shift, straightening your shirt because atleast one (1) person would hound you when they see a familiar red lanyard

oh you’re hounded alright

“hi! almost thought you were hiding from me for a second.”

yoongi????

you haven’t seen him for a week and you don’t know what to feel in all honesty

"anyways, is this sweater wool or cotton?"

wow

you're quite speechless as he holds up the item

really?

this thing all over again???

why are you even surprised

the only thing that yoongi gets your customer service smile, fishing your hand from inside the sweater to show him

“70% wool."

that's it???

NO GOOD MORNING????

you're mad at him, aren't you?

he knew it :((

he knew something was wrong but he just didn’t know what

he’s gonna fix this!! he will

which is why the very next day, he takes the day off from his work and comes to the store at a time he knows you’d surely be there

you're on cashier duty and you like it actually :D

you have an option to sit and the way you’re just gonna scan pricetags (and occasionally enter the code if it doesn’t work) is really appealing

“good morning!"

you’re about to grab the items from the basket laid on the counter and your eyes could only see the very familiar hand

the same one you’ve seen go through racks and racks

yoongi??

he sets his items one by one, buying himself more time

the first one is the same exact sweater he came to wait for before opening

“you already bought this."

you tell him even before you could hold it back, looking back at him briefly before you scan the tag

“i know. i just wanted to see you."

yoongi threw a bunch of other items (individually) so it would be a longer talk, but you scan each item quickly that he’s grabbing things from the counter

hand sanitizer!!! hair ties!!! keychains!!!! yeah he needs them

“i'm sorry that i tend to spring shit on you most of the time. you don't need to know the difference between silk and silk charmeuse."

you only chuckle then, a meek smile on your face

"it's okay, yoongi.”

“it's not."

... it’s not?

yoongi fidgets, opening and closing his mouth like he’s nervous!!! he’s never had his credit card cancelled but he could only feel that this type of jitterness is more than the former

“can i make it up to you? no lanyards, no baskets, no customer service?? i don't wanna fuck things up with you."

“don't feel obligated-"

“i know i could be a condescending ass who expects people to automatically know fabric and whatnot, but i wanna make it up to you."

alright yoongi’s a really good apology-maker

you mIGHT be even flustered a little

“you're holding the line, yoongi.”

“i cleared my schedule."

“i haven’t!!!!!” - guy in the back

“dinner at my place at 8. i-i promise to make your hard-earned break after your shift worthwhile!!!"

hmmm

maybe that wouldn’t hurt

“okay. just because you're holding the line."

“fine by me."

:))

yoongi transfers all the items he bought, all but one, to his tote bag

he hands back the paper bag to you, scribbling his address on the back of the receipt before he does

he lingers a little while at the counter, the people behind him ALREADY switching lanes to the one seokjin’s just opened beside you

it's the sweater that he has too

yoongi scratches the back of his head, this time being the meek one

“what? m-matching sweaters for our first date. s'cute."

#drabble week #yoongi imagine #yoongi imagines #min yoongi imagines #yoongi oneshots #yoongi oneshot #yoongi drabble #yoongi drabbles #yoongi au #yoongi x reader #yoongi x y/n #yoongi fanfiction #min yoongi fanfiction #yoongi fanfic #min yoongi oneshot #min yoongi scenarios #yoongi headcanon #yoongi fluff #yoongi angst

193 notes · View notes

hopelesshunny · 4 years ago

Text

the love languages part iv: quality time (f.w)

pairing: fred weasley x fem!reader

summary: fred wakes y/n one morning so that he can take her on a secret adventure.

warnings: kissing, mentions of war, mentions of death, mentions of eating/food, mentions of marriage/engagement.

word count: 2.2k

a/n: i was so excited to write this part as unlike the previous part of this series, quality time is my personal love language. i'm also quite excited to write the final part of this series as well as finish and post a number of wips so get ready for lots of writing soon!! luv ya'll so much.

*all photos are from pinterest*

series masterlist // part i // part ii // part iii

A quiet groan left Y/N’s mouth as the sun pushed its way through the sheer drapes of hers and Freds shared bedroom. As she began to regain consciousness she could hear the birds chirping outside the window, excited for the morning, she could smell the familiar scent of fresh coffee brewing, but most importantly, she could feel the bed sheets beneath her instead of the comforting rise and fall of her boyfriend's chest. Sighing, she pushed herself out of bed and followed the smell that was escaping from the kitchen, slipper clad feet padding across the wooden floors.

“Mornin’ angel.” Fred smirked, pouring her a cup of coffee and placing it in her eager hands. “Thought I might have to carry you out of bed.”

“What time is it?” She muttered, laying her head against his chest as Fred placed a hand on her back, rubbing small circles.

“It’s 7 in the morning love.” He spoke into her hairline, causing her to pull back from him with a bewildered look.

“It’s Saturday, Freddie.” She exclaimed, still staring at him with a slack mouth.

“I know.” He chuckled, placing a kiss to the side of her head. “I’m taking you somewhere, so drink up.” He said, tapping the coffee cup before pulling himself from her to head back to their bedroom.

She turned to watch him as he sauntered down the hall, a smile forming on her lips at the sight of him. Lucky was an understatement, Y/N often thought that she must have been a saint in her past life and was being blessed in this lifetime with Fred Weasley. From the moment she saw him in first year, her in a uniform that seemed much too big for her body and he with flushed cheeks and a bright smile, she swore to herself that he was the man she was going to marry. In her second year when she watched him and George prank the Slytherins relentlessly and laugh loudly at their stunned faces, she remembered thinking that his laugh was like medicine, it could surely cure any illness. During third year she often found herself staring at Fred constantly from across the Great Hall, hoping that he would return the glance. Then came fourth year when she finally caught his eye, so much so that as he and George ran down the hall, attempting to escape some self-inflicted trouble, he almost ran directly into a wall due to his staring.

Since that moment that had been inseparable - it had begun as Fred’s adolescent attempt to flirt with her but grew into the most beautiful friendship she ever had, when she couldn’t get the hint that he was interested in being more than that. Which is why his invitation to the Yule Ball shocked her in sixth year and his early departure from Hogwarts destroyed her in seventh year. Looking back now all of that seemed silly, from that first glance she caught of Fred she knew that they would find their way together somehow and after the war when she finally had the nerve to walk back into the shop to see if he made it out alive that’s exactly what happened.

The heavy door to the shop creaked as she pulled it open, her heart had plummeted to her stomach as soon as she saw the building from down the street. She was scared, terrified that the ghastly war had taken Fred as its own, so scared that she had pushed off confronting the possibility of it until now.

“Hello?” She called into the empty space. “Freddie? George?” Please be alive, please be alive, is all her brain could muster up to think.

“Y/N?” A voice called from the back. “Y/N!” George shouted as he came into view, running towards her to smother her in a hug.

“Hi.” She spoke softly into his chest, still fearing the fate of his twin. “Fred?” She asked quietly when she pulled back from the hug, concern and worry lacing her features. But the raging storm of guilt and terror within her was calmed when George flashed her a genuine smile and turned to call towards the back room.

“Fred! It’s Y/N, she’s alive.” With that Fred came bustling out from the far end of the shop, his eyes bloodshot, hair messy but that golden smile still plastered on his face. When she saw him tears that she had been holding back for days came flooding down her face as he picked her up, wrapping his arms impossibly tight around her body. George chuckled to himself before making his way up the stairs leaving two lovers that were too stubborn to realize they were lovers to finally become lovers.

“You scared me Y/N.” Fred whispered into her neck. “I thought I’d lost you.” She let out a choked sob before pulling back to look at him.

“There was so much happening, I couldn’t find you.” She said. “And then once it was all over I was worried th-that something had happened and that you w-were.” She trailed off, trying to find the words that made the most sense to her in this very moment but before she could, he was softly shushing her, planting her feet on the ground and placing a sweet kiss to her forehead.

“No need for any of that. I’m here, you’re here, we’re okay.” He spoke, her face in his hands. “I guess now’s as good a time as any to tell you that I’m in love with you Y/N.” He chuckled, earning a giggle from her.

“Fred Weasley, I am way ahead of you on that one.” She retorted, leaning up to capture his lips with hers.

“Okay Weasley, where are we going.” She said, emerging from their bedroom to find Fred on the couch, his head resting back on his neck before snapping it forward at the sound of her voice.

“You know.” He started, getting up from the couch to move toward her, placing his hands on her waist. “I see you every single day and it still feels like that first time I almost snogged the wall trying to catch a glimpse of you.”

“Always a charmer, you were.” She giggled before he reached down to grab her hand, pulling her out the door and down the street. He swung her hand in his as he pointed out abstractly shaped clouds saying they looked like her hair in the morning or her butt when she leaned over to pick something up.

“You still haven’t told me where we’re going.” She spoke.

“We’re going right here.” He said, pulling her into an ice cream shop. “Well, we’re starting right here.”

“Starting?” She questioned. “What do you have up your sleeve, Freddie?” He chuckled at her inquisitive state as she never really trusted Fred when it came to surprises because it typically ended in her hair being dyed a garish colour or something seemingly delicious tasting absolutely horrendous. But this surprise was good, he reassured her with a soothing hand on her back.

With ice cream cones finished and Y/N’s mind still wandering, the pair was now standing in a lush garden in the countryside, wisteria trees blowing gently in the summer breeze as Fred clasped his hands over her eyes. When he finally pulled them back to reveal the gorgeous sight in front of her all she could manage was a gasp, taken back by the pure beauty of the garden, so much so that she hardly saw the picnic blanket he must have set up ahead of time.

“It’s beautiful Freddie.” She whispered, her hand pressed against her chest in amazement.

“Just like you.” He said, wrapping his arms around her from behind, resting his chin on top of her head. “Hermione actually told me about this place after she leant you that book about trees.” He chuckled, recalling the memory of his girlfriend passionately telling him about a different tree somewhere in the world every morning.

With that he ran and landed on the blanket with a thud outstretching his arms as giggles bubbled from her mouth. She gladly accepted his offer however, laying on the blanket with him, her back against his side as she gazed up at the bright blue sky, through a veil of wisteria, her hands finding his to gently run her fingers along his knuckles. From their position on the ground Fred had the perfect view of Y/N’s face, the face he had memorized so many years ago, the face that lit up the first time he had ever spoken to her and everyday since then.

He and George sprinted down the hall, Filch hot on their heels as boisterous laughter filled the air, adrenaline running through both their veins like hot lava, setting their bodies on fire. Then he saw her, coming around the corner, books clutched tightly to her chest as her eyes wandered out the window, but his remained solely on her. A little too much it seemed because when he finally forced his line of sight away from her, he found himself face to face with a wall, just inches away from having his face planted flat against it. He brought up on his heels before ducking away into a closet, George after running far ahead of him.

He cracked the closet door open just enough so that he could steal a look at her, he watched as she giggled and shook her head and then made her way down the hall. Was she laughing at him? Was she laughing at him because she thought he was funny? Or because she thought he was a fool? He thought about this for a moment before finally deciding that he could make either one of them work. Once the coast was clear and he was sure he was no longer being chased, Fred practically fell out of the closet and began sprinting down the hall again but this time in the opposite direction, in the direction of her. When he finally caught up to her, he layed a gentle hand on her shoulder causing her to turn towards him before he doubled over out of breath.

“Just give me, give me one second.” He said, holding his hand up to signal for her to wait. She chuckled at him as he then decided to take a seat on the ground still attempting to pump air into his lungs. Y/N sat on the floor of the hallway with him, pulling her knees up to her chest as he looked at her in surprise. “I’m Fred Weasley.”

“I know.” She said before giving him a shocked look, angry at her mouth for betraying her. “I mean, I’m Y/N Y/L/N.”

“I think we’re going to be great friends.” He replied, while she flashed him a smile that could light up the entire castle on the darkest of nights.

Great friends they were, if you consider great friends, people who can’t sleep without each other, kiss each other good morning and good night and just about a thousand times in between everyday, they were the best of friends, if best friends were in love with one another. Fred couldn’t imagine his life without Y/N in it, couldn’t bring himself to imagine being with someone else, she was all he ever wanted, all he’d ever need.

“Is that a squirrel over there?” Fred questioned. “Climbing up that tree?” He pointed to a tree in the distance, causing Y/N to sit up straight, shielding the sun from her eyes with her hand as she squinted in an attempt to see what Fred was on about.

“I don’t see a squirrel.” She scoffed. “You must be seeing things Fre-.” She started, turning around to see Fred kneeling on one knee in front of her, a silver ring propped up in a velvet box grasped in his hands as his eyes searched hers. Shock ran deep on her face and a rush of nerves took over Fred as he couldn’t quite read her reaction.

“Y/N, from the moment I met you I’ve wanted to do this. I’ve thought about asking you to marry me almost everyday since fourth year and hell if I had a ring back then I would’ve done it. But I have one now so I’m asking-.” Fred began, still tentatively studying her face.

“Yes!” She cut him off, launching herself into his arms. “Yes, I’ll marry you any day and I would’ve married you when we were fifteen if you asked.” She peppered his face with kisses as he laughed loudly, slipping the ring onto her finger. Tears pricked her eyes as she pulled back to look at the new addition to her hand but her eyebrows knitted themselves together at the collection of numbers engraved in small font on the underside of the band.

“Numbers?” She questioned, shooting him a quizzical look as he chuckled.

“Coordinates.” He responded. “To the exact wall I almost hit the first time I saw you.”

taglist (join here!!)

@onlyfreds @fandomhideout @lilypad-55449@youngblood199456 @thanxxskz @emma67 @gaycatlord-stuff@alicetweven @a-castle-of-glass @youcantbesirius@omghufflepuff @izzyyy-1 @70sweasleys

if your url is crossed out i could not tag you!!

#fred #fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley fic #fred weasley one shot #fred weasley series #fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley x you #fred weasley fluff #hp #hp fic #harry potter fic

116 notes · View notes

gwoongi · 4 years ago

Text

wordless pt.4

jeon jeongguk / reader genre: hitman (john wick au), sugar daddy au, angst, crack, fluff rating: mature words: 3.5k warnings: toxic relationships, non graphic sex a/n: u guys asked and i delivered...tag yourself i’m me saying dancer in the dark was coming first....i was wrong...this is also very sweet considering part 5 will not be :D enjoy while u can!

Sometimes, saying “I love you” is inappropriate, and given your circumstances, you think it might send Jeongguk over the edge if he hears them again.

Parts: One, Two, Three, Four, Five

(31) Pulling a chair out for them to sit down at the table.

Jeongguk’s not a gentleman.

Everybody knows it, and he’s not ashamed of admitting it. Half of the time, he thinks that it’s what makes him unique, at least. If you (or anybody else, even though since you walked out on him that one time, he’s been seeing all the others less and less) were going to be with somebody, then you might as well just make it different. Spice it up a little bit.

“It will be nice.” Jeongguk, because he’s not a gentleman, is not really listening to you. He sits behind the steering wheel and tightens his hand against the wheel, the other is on the clutch.

“Are you listening to me?”

“No,” Jeongguk replies. He turns the corner, and the car slightly leans you to the right.

A sigh fills the car as he pauses as a set of traffic lights further down the street.

This red light drags forever, and Jeongguk sighs instead and looks at you pointedly, “What, then?”

It takes reluctance to pull your gaze away from the pigeons near the bins on the side of the road, but you do, and you look at Jeongguk. “I just think it will be really nice to grab dinner together.”

“We do that all the time,” Jeongguk says.

“Yeah, but I don’t mean us, or just us,” you affirm, “I mean, like all of us. Family, I guess.”

Jeongguk bristles. “Family? We don’t have any family, baby.”

“We do,” you moan. “I mean. Not family-family, but family. The kind of family we get to choose. Taehyung, and Eunji and whoever.”

Jeongguk nods sarcastically, “Oh. Wrong F word, Y/N, those people are called friends.”

“Oh, whatever then,” you huff, turning back towards the window. “Forget I said anything, Jeongguk.”

Jeongguk wants to forget, but he doesn’t. Something about that line, about the way that it stuck with him: The kind of family we get to choose. He thought about it all night, groaned, and then swore and called Taehyung. Alright motherfucker, we’re going to dinner with Y/N so you better shut the fuck up, get a suit, and meet us at that fancy Gangnam restaurant.

So, it’s a Friday evening, and it feels like a Disney Channel crossover episode. Eunji definitely feels out of place in this restaurant, and Jeongguk acts uncomfortable about the way Taehyung sits opposite you, gauging your every move and word with overacted enthusiasm. Actually, all Jeongguk is thinking about is the moment that they got here.

“Here, honey, let me get that for you,” had appeared to be Taehyung’s favourite sentence to say to you; he used it when he opened the door for you, and again with the chair to the table. Jeongguk sat seething, almost red like a ruby. Eunji sips nervously from her glass as Taehyung laughs again at something you said.

Dinner went great, he would have to admit that.

“Oh, we booked the patio for desserts,” Taehyung says. One of Jeongguk’s other friends, Seokjin (who honestly came to observe rather than to fill in for the surprising lack of family at this family dinner) looks left and right to each person on the table and follows the crowd as they leave for the patio once the main courses are done.

Taehyung once again reaches for the door and lets you walk outside. As Jeongguk passes Taehyung at the door, he glares at Taehyung with eyes that could murder. Taehyung doesn’t waver but he does get the hint, even more so as you stroll towards the table. Before Taehyung can even move towards the table, Jeongguk curves in front and puts his hand on the back of your chair.

“Here you go, baby, let me sit next to you,” Jeongguk says, dragging it out for you to sit. You watch him with one raised eyebrow but say nothing. Taehyung says nothing for a few minutes but decides to get right back to it as the desserts begin. It pisses off Jeongguk to the point where his hand leaves fingerprints in your thigh, but you can’t find it in you to be mad about it.

(32) Wrapping a blanket around them when they are sitting on the couch and watching a show.

“You gotta stop letting yourself in here, it scares the shit out of me.”

“I own this dump.”

You gape over your shoulder, “Fucker, you own this dump that you call a dump but you gave me this dump, it’s my dump, don’t call it a dump.”

“Say dump one more time,” Jeongguk warns, shrugging off his jacket and ruffling his hair. It’s wet thanks to the torrential rain outside. His socks squelch across the floor because he left his slippers back at his place, and he’s not here often enough to have his own pair at your apartment.

The apartment is toasty and warm, the heating on high. Except the living room is chilly and dark, dark blue almost.

“What are you watching?”

Jeongguk moves towards your bedroom but can still hear you as he moves.

“Just this show I found,” you reply, watching the screen. “Dead To Me.”

“Never heard of it,” he yawns, and emerges from the room. He’s holding a heavy blanket in his arms, moving to the living room to sit next to you. He plops next to you and glances at the screen, wrapping the blanket around your shoulders, over your head like a cocoon.

You laugh softly, shifting it off your head and leaning up against him. “It’s American. It’s got Velma in it.”

“Linda Cardellini?” Jeongguk asks, settling back. “She’s hot as fuck.”

“I know, that’s why I thought I’d watch it, I love her,” you say.

Jeongguk wraps an arm around your shoulder and smushes closer towards you.

“Good day?” you ask quietly.

He takes a few seconds, like he’s truly trying to think about whether he wants to answer or not.

“Okay,” he admits. “Don’t care, it’s over, I’m here, don’t wanna think about work.”

You don’t push him to talk, and instead, let him sit next to you. He likes the darkness because there’s no way you can see his discomfort, his pain, the blood under his fingernails.

(33) Throwing away their piles of tissues when they have a cold.

Jeongguk travels for work a lot, and it’s no secret to anybody he knows. It was midday when he got a call, just a few words over the phone, and then he was moving out of the shower and into the bedroom to get ready.

He had told you to stay, stay until he got back. Unfinished business, he said, that would need dealing with when he got home. So you did, you stayed and he left, and that was that.

Jeongguk sighs and shuts the car door. Until next time, he thinks to himself as he watches the car pull away. Frowning, he straightens his blazer and walks up the steps to the complex he lives at and enters. When he gets to his apartment, he kicks his shoes off right away and as he steps inside, he notices that the apartment is unusually silent.

Normally at his home, his big mansion that he loves up in the hills, there’s some sort of noise. Maybe it’s the sound of the TV on in the kitchen, or the bubbles in the hot tub, or the sound of Elio prowling around the bedroom. This apartment is in central Seoul, closer to work and closer to school. He hates how silent it is, how empty it feels.

“Y/N?”

There is no instant reply. He moves across the apartment, searching silently.

“Babe, you here?”

Worry bubbles in his stomach and he moves in search of you. After searching everywhere, Jeongguk scoffs like it’s a sick joke that you’re not here, until he hears a noise, a croak and a cough from the spare bedroom.

“Y/N?” calls Jeongguk. He moves to the door and twists the handle, and is a few shuffles inside when a grottal, gross noise emerges from the darkness.

“What?” he asks.

“I said don’t come in here,” you croak out in reply, because it’s you, and who else would it be in his apartment?

Jeongguk enters and reaches for the light, pausing when you grunt in his direction. He can see you in the dim light of the spare bedroom, the sun outside the curtains, and he suppresses a smile.

“What happened? I said we had unfinished business.”

“I know,” you rasp. “But one of the kids in my class came to the lab with a sore throat, I thought I’d be fine. But, ta-da.” He can see in the light that there’s a plethora of tissues around your body, like a barrier. So many, snotty and probably damp and scrunched into balls. “Guess he had a cold.”

He grimaces, shuffling into the bedroom despite you telling him otherwise. It’s unsurprisingly stuffy in the room, a given since the room is closed off from the sunlight that bleeds behind the curtains. Like you requested, he doesn’t turn on the lights, keeping you safe in the darkness.

“Shitty kids,” Jeongguk grunts. Finding a lack of interest in the germs that breed in the tissues scrunched into balls, he moves them from the covers and tosses them towards the small bin next to the bedside cabinet. You sniffle, snotty and stuffed, and peer from over the duvet at him.

Jeongguk looks tired, as he always does when he gets back from work. He sports a brand new cut on his lip, one that will probably scar when it’s done showing crimson. There is blood on his shirt, and you know that it’s probably not his. That doesn’t make you feel better.

“How long you had it?” Jeongguk asks.

“Two or three days,” you estimate. He’s been gone almost a week, the seventh day being tomorrow. “Should go soon, don’t worry.”

He smiles, “Not worried. Did you get medicine, or something?”

You sniff once, the air hot in your nostrils. “Nope. I haven’t managed to leave since I came down with it. I only went to the door to collect soup and then I went back to bed in here.” Another sniff and Jeongguk’s eyebrows raise with amusement, “Didn’t want to infect your bedroom, so I came here instead. Hope that’s okay.”

“Sure, it’s okay,” he replies. “I’ll find something for you, I’ve got a bunch of shit that might help.”

“Really?”

Jeongguk nods, “Yeah. Stay put, buttercup, B-R-B.”

(34) Mending an item of their clothing that was ripped.

“Who even takes the subway anymore?”

In reply, Jeongguk gets an appalled scoff. “I’m sorry, not all of us are rich enough to have fucking chauffeurs taking us places.”

“What’re you talking about, you’re rich,” Jeongguk says, his voice kind of muffled due to the sewing needle between his teeth. He sits on the edge of his sofa, your skirt spread over his lap like a napkin at dinner. Down the leg, the seam is torn, showing what could have been an erotic amount of leg. Unfortunately, he’d only got a glimpse of your skin when you shuffled into his home.

As the CEO of ripping his clothes, Jeongguk became familiar with sewing over the years, figuring it was less expensive to sew than it was to replace. So, of course, when your skirt got torn on the subway home, Jeongguk tested his principles and dug out the sewing needle.

“No thanks to you,” you sigh. “You didn’t need to, by the way.”

“Need to what, pay you?” Jeongguk laughs, sewing the seam. “Come on, Y/N, it’s overdue.”

“True, but I don’t really need your money that much anymore.”

“Funny, since you needed it when you didn’t have it,” he sighs dramatically. “Anyway, it’s barely a dent out of my bank account, I wanna spoil you. You’re welcome.”

You frown, shuffling to the couch and throwing yourself over the back so that your head is by his legs. Jeongguk spares you a glance from the skirt and smiles, returning back to the work.

“Thanks,” you mumble. Nothing is said, but he appreciates it, even if he did it out of guilt.

(35) Running out in the middle of the night to get a food item they’re craving.

“I think I’m pregnant.”

“What the fuck?”

Jeongguk shoots up from bed into a sitting position, his eyes blown wide as he stares at you. Whenever Jeongguk invites you to stay at his apartment, he always keeps a light on in the evening. His apartment is in a somewhat busier area compared to his house, which is stationed in a private neighbourhood only touched by the wealthiest of the wealthy. His apartment was supposed to be for ease, for if he had to do dirty work in the city and didn’t want to tie his name to a hotel. It wasn’t often that you stayed the night here.

In the light of the dim lamp on your side of the bed, Jeongguk can make out your face. You’re still lying down, staring up at the ceiling. After he stares long enough, you look over at him.

“Why the fuck would you say that,” he breathes, like it’s an insult.

“Wow, would it really be so bad?” you ask, curious now.

He blinks like an owl. “Obviously, dipshit.”

Sigh. “And here I was thinking it would be like the movies and you’d love me.”

“Even if I loved you, do you think I wanna have kids?” Jeongguk questions rhetorically, because he’s actually already talked to you about this. Jeongguk never wants to have children. His life is constantly on the line. There is no way he’d bring a child into the world, just for them to either be used as bait, or grow up in a world without their father. He knows how that feels.

“Fair,” you reply. “Still.”

Jeongguk shudders, it’s cold in here. “Wait, are you for real?” He shifts, the covers make a disruptive noise in the night, “what makes you think that you’re...you know…”

“I keep getting weird cravings,” you explain, like it’s the craziest science that he won’t understand. As soon as you say it, he feels almost instantly better. It’s not like cravings are the most reliable symptom of a pregnancy. Besides, you’re on the pill, and when you’re not, he’s safe. He’s not an idiot, he’s not about to accidentally ruin both of your lives with a few squirts.

“Like what?”

You shrug, “Really craving the Fairway to Heaven ice-cream.”

Jeongguk scoffs. Actually, it’s almost a tch under his breath. “Yeah, of course, you’re craving the most expensive icecream. Predictable. Cute, almost.” He pats your leg over the covers, “We all know Phish Food’s the better flavour, by the way.”

“Tell that to the cravings, sir,” you reply. You frown, then, “I’ll pick some up tomorrow. Maybe I’ll dream the cravings away…”

“As if,” Jeongguk barks, knowing you better. If he knows you at all (which he confidently does), you’ll press about this for the rest of the night until you fall asleep bored of trying. So, Jeongguk enjoys the last few seconds inside a warm bed before climbing out, switching on the light so it burns your eyes as the room fills with it.

“Ouch, too bright!”

“Pussy,” he smirks. “Bro, get your coat, we’re going out.”

“Oh yeah, at midnight?” you ask sarcastically, sitting up. “Where’re we going?”

“Ice cream,” he replies, like it’s obvious. To him it is. “That store down the road sells it and it closes at 2, so get your big coat and let’s get moving!”

“Are we seriously going to get ice cream at midnight?” you laugh, doing as he says.

“We both know you’re not gonna shut up about it if we don’t.”

Jeongguk grabs his own coat and zips it up. Nobody’s gonna care that he’s wearing PJ’s, and even if you’re sleepy and grumpy on the way there, it’s better than keeping you at the apartment alone. He’d have to be crazy to leave you here than he is going out for ice cream at midnight.

(36) Helping brush their hair after a shower.

You’re the best he’s had, really.

Jeongguk knows this, because he’s not stupid or blind or oblivious. Compared to the other girls he’s had, and the ones he left not too long ago, he knows how lucky he is to have someone like you. Someone who doesn’t just want him for the sex and the money. Although scary, it’s reassuring.

Jeongguk comes out from the kitchen to the bedroom where you’re sitting, hunched over a laptop watching a YouTube video that bores you to sleep. Your hair is damp and matted, left to dry as you watch. Fourty minutes into an hour video. Jeongguk narrows his eyebrows, wondering if he’d ever have the patience to watch something like that. Probably not. He barely has the patience when he works, and he has a job that demands it 99% of the time. When he can be hasty he is, but when his job is to kill and protect, patience is a must.

As you watch, Jeongguk moves to sit behind you and he sets his chin on your shoulder, boredly looking at the screen. Your eyes are glossed over, possibly not even watching at all. Regardless, he stays there and slowly rakes his fingers through your hair, straightening out the curls that are close to knots.

He still blames the video for you falling asleep, although it’s probably his fingers. He won’t admit it.

(37) Making sure to be quiet while they’re taking a nap.

It’s not just that. Jeongguk enjoys being gentle, but only when nobody can see him doing it. When you fall asleep, slouched over like a zombie, he smiles and gently closes the screen of your laptop. Whatever garbage your Uni have you watching can be watched tomorrow.

Until then, you must sleep. He moves the laptop away to the cabinet across the room and comes back, collecting you in his arms and moving you into the bed. Once the covers are draped across your body, he takes extra care to be quiet leaving the room and shutting the door. There’s some food leftover in the kitchen from dinner that he’ll eat before joining you, and you don’t wake up, not even when the bed dips as he climbs into it.

(38) Letting them warm their cold hands under your shirt.

Despite his work often demanding him to be around people, Jeongguk isn’t really a big fan of crowds. If he can get out of going out in public, he will jump at the opportunity. He just can’t see why you’re so miffed about not being with the crowds of people on the Hangang Bridge waiting for the fireworks- he’s got a balcony that looks out over the city and the river, so what’s the big deal?

“It’s all about the vibe,” you say with a slight sigh. Your arms are draped over the balcony banister, legs slowly vibrating in the bitter winter air. “As a broody killing machine, I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”

“That stings,” Jeongguk replies, closing the door behind him as he wanders back towards you with a blanket. His eyes glaze over your face as he arrives and Jeongguk rolls his eyes, “Hold your face that way and it’ll stick.”

“Heard it all before from my Mom,” you reply boredly. A quiet thanks is spoken as you take the blanket shield and snuggle closer to his chest, staring expectantly at the black sky. “What time will they start?”

Jeongguk presses his cheek to your hair. “Considering three minutes ago it was only ten to midnight, I can safely assure you that it is not time yet.”

“I’m bored.”

“Why are you so hard to please today?” Jeongguk groans. He wriggles around, “And don’t try me with that ‘I think I’m pregnant’ bullshit. Spare me the moody bitch performance for today, please?”

You pug to yourself. “Sorry. Sorry, you’re right. And I shouldn’t be so...I don’t know. I’m sorry. Thank you for tonight.”

Jeongguk shakes his head slightly. He may never understand women.

“You really that mad over the bridge?” he asks quietly, his mouth against your head. It’s hot, and you lean back towards his minimal body warmth. “I’m sorry I didn’t pass your vibe check for tonight, but I thought it might be romantic or something for us to be up here.”

You almost laugh. “It is romantic. You’re right.”

Jeongguk brushes it off. Lately something has shifted, a comfort in the air that grants you permission to be in his life as someone more important than a ‘sugar baby’. Dare he say it, but Jeongguk actually considers you a friend. Now, you’re at the point where neither of you give much of a shit about the sugar clause you wrote yourselves into quite some time ago. An unspoken thing hangs there like Christmas mistletoe, seen but prayed away.

Distant laughter and a bang grows near the direction of Hangang bridge, and Jeongguk feels you perk in his arms. As a small warmth bursts across his chest, Jeongguk hisses in the cold and stuffs his hands up your shirt, where they curve around your body to cheekily hold both of your boobs. You jump, because his hands are freezing.

“You’re cold!” you whine. “What are you doing?”

Jeongguk shrugs, “My hands are freezing. I’m keeping them warm.”

You briefly glance down at his knuckles outlined by your jumper. “Oh yeah, because I’m sure that’s the reason why you’re literally groping my tits right now.”

“They feel warmer already,” he continues.

(39) Giving them your dessert when you eat out because it’s their favourite.

On the rare occasion that guilt consumes Jeon Jeongguk, he allows his guilt to control his feet. Usually, they end up on a pathway to the bedroom, or in the car where he drives you somewhere nice, or perhaps he picks you up from school instead of cruelly leaving you to take the subway. Now that things have shifted slightly in your dynamic, Jeongguk isn’t sure what flies as romantic anymore. He doesn’t want to leave you with the wrong impression. You’ve had the talk together, the one that touched upon what the future looked like and how quite definitely it looked as though you wouldn’t be with each other, but surely, dinner overlooking the sea in Busan isn’t too fancy or romantic, right?

“Here is your patbingsu.” The waiter circles around the table and gently lays a dish in front of you. Jeongguk carefully watches over his glass of wine as the waiter also announces his own dessert, the exact same. His eyes move down to the display set before him.

He’s never really been keen on dessert, but Jeongguk is the type of person who doesn’t enjoy the idea of one person eating when the other isn’t. So he had just ordered the same thing as you had, nice and simple, without giving it much thought.

“I love this,” you sigh happily, fiddling the metal spoon in your hand and peering up at him, “This is sick. Thank you.”

“I didn’t make it,” he replies.

You roll your eyes, spooning out some of the dessert, “you know what I mean.”

Something in the beach-fronted restaurant shifts as the sun sinks deeper into the ocean, and Jeongguk twirls his spoon anxiously whilst observing the patbingsu. He’s never been a huge fan of bingsu in general, and he looks with slight distaste at the green blob on top of what looks like cornflakes. He doesn’t get Korean desserts. Why can’t Korea be satisfied with an ice-cream sundae?

He dips his spoon into the dessert, taking a polite amount and very quickly taking a bite. For around twenty seconds, he thinks it’s okay, but the aftertaste makes his whole body shudder. Fucking hell, he really hates desserts.

After a few minutes, you finally move your attention away from the scraped clean dessert dish and take a glance over at Jeongguk, who is already watching you with a lack of interest for his own dessert.

“Is everything okay?” you ask, subtly wiping around your mouth just in case. You take in the sight of his unfinished treat, “not hungry?”

Jeongguk shrugs awkwardly, “I don’t really like bingsu.”

“Then why’d you order?” you question quietly.

“I panicked,” he replies, “you ordered it and I don’t like desserts but I didn’t want you to be eating alone.”

You pause, eyebrows quirked: “I don’t mind.”

He sighs. Of course. “Well…” He twirls the dessert dish and pushes it in your direction, “Since it’s your favourite, or whatever, you can have it.”

Your eyes light up, “Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Cool,” you squeal, happily taking it from him. “Thank you~”

Jeongguk rolls his eyes playfully and sits back in his chair. Whatever he didn’t eat from the dessert he instead eats up in the sight of you.

(40) Making a goofy face until they notice and laugh.

You don’t quite know how you ended up at Jeongguk’s work, but here you are. You could probably trace it back to Taehyung swinging by to get you from school since Jeongguk felt bad he couldn’t, and to be honest, you had been confused when Taehyung drove past the turning to your apartment and kept going further into the city.

Jeongguk’s workplace is pretty big, but still significantly hidden inconspicuously to avoid attention. As you slowly wander around the hallways, you begin to daydream about where Jeongguk’s office may be, what he might be doing and what he might think if he sees you.

Quietly passing through what appears to be a recreation room, filled with tired faces who blink curiously as you brush by, you finally step out into a web of hallways that connect to small rooms walled in glass. Each is empty, besides one at the very end that bustles with tense conversation, and you’re drawn to the sound of Jeongguk’s voice as it carries through the silent hallways.

You push forward, stopping not too close to the doorway so that if somebody who isn’t him happens to see you, you can make a hasty escape.

The room is filled with strange faces, strange men in tight suits and briefcases next to their feet. A man stands up beside Jeongguk at the head of the table, his hands animated as he presses on about something you’re not well read on. Hell if you know a single thing about gun models and firing ranges. You can just about tell apart Fortnite weapons and that’s only because they’ve got colours.

Jeongguk, however, is a sight that captures your gaze. For a while, he sits with his back turned to the man standing, his eyes observing each individual around the table, of who squirm under his watch. He eventually looks back at the man, his jawline sharp and his hair styled so that it only slightly falls into his eyebrows. God damn it, he looks sexy as hell; his shirt is black, cuffed, unbuttoned at the top revealing his skinny collarbones. He’s probably wearing the tight trousers too, the ones that make his ass look good.

A thought strikes you: how would he feel if he saw you outside? While it shouldn’t, the thought fills you with adrenaline. The idea of not him but somebody else seeing you, a girl dressed in white jeans and a red shirt, your coat discarded somewhere on an office chair. Would he be mad? Would he be turned on?

Would you die?

Deciding that the worse case scenario only involved you being yelled at, you decide to dip your toes into the water and tease the sharks; you wonder how long you can hold this silly face for until he finally notices you out there.

It seems like a long shot, and you’re quite close to giving up when finally Jeongguk returns his attention to the table. Heads begin to move in conversation, and Jeongguk’s gaze passes from gentleman to gentleman until they pause abruptly, locking onto you behind the glass. For a moment, he does nothing besides stare. Perhaps he doesn’t care. Then, his eyes widen, like he’s confused and alarmed and slightly impressed. Before his disturbed posture is noticed, you laugh to yourself and run away, back in the direction you tiptoed through.

(Later, Jeongguk finds you in Taehyung’s office sitting on an uncomfortable and torn armchair, a Rubix cube moving back and forwards in your hands. You’re not matching any colours. It’s going nowhere. He smiles.

“Field trip?” he questions, making your head snap up suddenly. He slides next to you on the free chair, “I’ll skin that prick alive, you know you’re not supposed to be here.”

“I know, but I’m here against my will!” you promise, putting the cube down. “I really wanted to go home. Dead To Me episodes don’t watch themselves, you know.”

“Yeah, I know,” he sighs. “I gotta go to a meeting again, then I’ll drive us home, okay?”

You nod. “I’m sorry I distracted you, by the way. I realise now I’m actually very lucky that it was you who saw me and nobody else.”

Jeongguk laughs, kissing your forehead as he rises to leave. “Yeah, well, I’m the most dangerous guy in there, so consider yourself very lucky.”)

#almost over #jungkook scenario #bts scenario #jeongguk scenario #bts #bangtan #bts imagine #jungkook #jungkook imagine #jeongguk #jeongguk x reader #jungkook x reader #jjk #jeon jeongguk #bts jungkook #bts mafia #bts sugar daddy #wordless

326 notes · View notes