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justoneday-namjoonii · 4 years ago

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Don’t Breathe | 4.5

»Genre: hitman!au || stalker!au ||

»Warnings: kidnapping, stalking, obsession, themes of potential Stockholm syndrome, mono-phobia, mature elements, manhandling, breakdowns, yandere (? i think ), he thinks it’s cute when she cries, eventually they fall in love, Disclaimer: I do not condone nor suggest stalking/kidnapping or anything of that nature, this is pure fiction ok, kidnappers and stalkers DON’T love you.

»Summary: He doesn’t get shaky hands, he never forgets his gloves and he never leaves a trail. He was paid to get rid of everyone who witnessed the exchange between a gang lord and a politician, they were picked off, one by one. He found out a month later, he missed one. A young writer who attended the event where the exchange took place. He has to kill her. Can he do it?

✤ pt.1 - pt.2 - pt.2.5 - pt.3 - pt. 3.5 - pt. 4.0 - pt. 4.5 - pt. 5.0 - pt. 5.5 - pt.6.0

a/n: hello!~ thank you for reading and i hope u enjoy!! will most def edit later💖

taglist: @tangledsparkles @just-another-fangurl21 @impartoftoomanyfandoms @komorebi-unnie @tangledsparkles @yes-sol-not-soul (sorry :( tumblr won’t let me tag you) @sarzkh31

The sun is setting like a dream, you can’t say you’ve ever seen it shine so beautiful. The sky looks like a peach painting that shyly fades into a heavenly deep-blue. It’s a perfect evening, the air smells of the flowers growing on the porch and it delights your senses. He’s chasing you barefooted across the grassy yard, like two children playing tag at the peak of spring. Out of breath, he finally catches you and you fall back into the checkered blanket, too tired to run off again.

After seeing you enjoy the balcony so much, he introduced you to his lavish backyard. Aside from the large stone patio and pool attached to it, the yard expands at least an acre and it’s well-groomed. Early in the evening, you moved to spend some time on the patio, a pencil, and paper in hand. Taehyung had some work to do so you had a few hours to yourself, you used that time to think and write. After a few hours, you could no longer resist the urge to take a dip in the crystal clear oasis.

With a t-shirt and underwear, you eased into the cool water and breathed a sigh of relief. For what could have been an hour or two, you weren’t counting, you swam on your back, staring up at the clear sky, wondering if you’ll ever feel peace like this again. When your eyes shut, your thoughts seem to align, and for the first time since you’ve been here, you felt like you were where you were supposed to be. As much as you cherish your life alone, your independence, and innate desire to prove that you can make it on your own—it seems Taehyung is worth giving that up.

That would have sounded crazy weeks ago, but it’s how you feel. That night that you confessed that you wanted to be with him, you meant it. You don’t know when it happened, maybe when you kissed him and he picked you up when you woke up to him fast asleep with a pillow in his arms. Or maybe it was when he suggested you help him bake since he knew you wrote so much about food in your articles, you’re not sure. But somehow, sometime after learning his name, you think you fell in love.

When you were with Jin, you had similar feelings to this. You knew you were in love when you had the urge to smile even when you were hurting just to make him smile. That feeling of unexplained self-sacrifice, something as small as a smile, you’d force it out if you knew it would help him. With Taehyung, it seems like he will do anything to make you smile sometimes, even when you know he’s keeping stressful things from you. Is that love? You think so.

You sigh, still feeling a bit wet from your swim a while ago but you’ve dried mostly. He fussed at you for not showering straight away but you said the sun would dry you well enough until your shower tonight. It’s dusk now, and your out in the grass, laying happily on the blanket with him. A few minutes ago you found out that he had pretty lights adorning the patio. He said he’s had them for a while but hadn’t turned them on until today. It casts a warm light out into the grass, you tell him he should turn it on more often.

”You should shower before you catch a cold,” He stresses for the second time. You find his worry endearing but negotiate five more minutes, and he caves. It’s been a while since you’ve been outside like this. He knows this, that’s why he’s laying shoulder to shoulder with you as you gaze up at the night sky. “Sorry I had so much work I had to do today, hope you weren’t too bored out here,”

”It’s fine, I was writing anyway...”

”You were writing?” He turns on his side, curiosity piqued. You nod, hands searching for the pencil and pad you had on the blanket.

”Mhm, I used to write poetry when I was in high school. I wasn’t very good and some of it is kind of cringe now that I look back at it, but I enjoyed it. I haven’t written in so long, I thought I’d give it a shot,” You grab the notepad and look up at it, eyes skimming over the gray hue from all the erasing. You catch him trying to peek over and you hold it to your test.

“Don’t look, it’s not good,”

He pouts, hand moving to intertwine with yours with puppy-dog eyes.

“Come on, you’ve never shared your personal writings with me before,” He pouts, leaning closer to you in hopes that you might succumb to the allure of his gaze. “Pleeease?”

”Fine,” You sigh, “but you have to read it yourself,” You lift the notepad in surrender, handing it to him.

He sits up and the feeling of anxiousness comes to a halt when you realize one important fact; it’s Taehyung. Not a supervisor critiquing your rough draft or a teacher judging your ability to recite your understanding of the class’s latest assignment. It’s him.

I’ve been given a universe, all for me. My very own stars in your eyes, I can stare at you forever. The remnants of your every gaze births a galaxy and I draw up the constellations by the reminisce of the pattern of your touch on my skin. I, too, have given my universe to you. Though I’m innocent to the stars in my eyes, the constellations I paint on your skin, all for you. No event is there more beautiful than the moment our eyes meet, our nebulae collide. A merging occurs, giving life to new stars that are our own, creating a galaxy that holds a shape that can only be defined by fate. In that sweet moment, we create an intertwined constellation, a design filled with millions of our old and new stars, shining brighter than ever,

“In your universe, my universe...” He reads the last lines softly. Setting the pad down with an expression that you can’t quite read, he just looks at you and you start to feel nervous.

“I just,” You bite at your lip and look up at the night sky that’s beginning to show the stars, “I had this idea about space, it’s a little different but it took me hours to come up with...I’m rusty.”

He props himself up and leans over you, gazes searching for yours with a tender close-lipped smile. He holds his hand to his heart, “That was so beautiful.”

You cringe, pushing his chest so he can roll back on his back. “Oh stop, now I wish I wouldn’t have shown you,” It’s hard to tell if he’s praising you or teasing, it seems like it’s one in the same sometimes.

“I’m being serious, I can feel the emotions you’re conveying in your words, I really get it…” He looks a bit surprised that you’d think he was teasing you about this, he leans back over you.

“You mean it?” You look into his eyes, wondering how anyone could be capable of making you feel so special like you’re the only person in the world. Without a word, he presses a firm kiss to your lips and you sigh, he means it.

He gets you to go inside and shower before it’s too dark outside, you both shower and the warmth calms you. Dressed in a matching pair of gray and green pajamas that he recently purchased, long-sleeves but breathable. For the first time, you two lay in bed and watch movies together. You had debated over watching either Whisper of The Heart or My Neighbor Totoro, you settled on My Neighbor Totoro.

You’re comfortably propped on your pillow and curled slightly on your side. Taehyung is laying on his side as well, one leg was thrown over you and one hand holding yours. He’s like a big teddy bear, soft and comforting in every way. He’s so warm, his fingers are so long and he engulfs your hand, his leg is pinning you down but you find it comforting.

He’s laying on the pillow beside yours, eyes lingering more on you than the movie, but he glances at it every so often. Ever since that moment on the blanket in the yard with you, your poem had been on his mind in the best way. The thought of you writing that with him in mind, it makes his heart flutter.

“Baby, I can’t stop thinking about your poem,” He grabs your attention from the enthralling scene on the TV, “I know you think I’m messing with you but I’m not, it’s touching,” He admits with a little laugh, “what is it about?”

“It was my expression of platonic love and physical love, the love I’ve experienced in my life, what I think is love, our love...” You shyly say that last part, gripping his hand a little tighter.

He hums, thumb rubbing your knuckles gently. ”Our love? I knew it,” He smiles, a sweet smile on his face as he scoots closer to you if that was possible. “I had my suspicions that it was about us,” He cups your jaw, leaning over you.

“The part where it says, when our nebulae collide, giving life to new stars, creating a constellation that can only be defined by fate,” His mouth gapes a bit, tongue moving absentmindedly, the usual look when he’s thinking.

“That part, that part is my favorite I think,” He gently kisses your forehead and you let out a little laugh that makes him smile in adoration, “it sounds like us,”

“It’s about us, but it’s about you more than anything,” You mumble, moving your hand up to tussle his hair softly, “you’re a bit more poetic than I am, I think.”

The movie is nice white noise to his low breathing, the sound of his mouth meeting your skin. His lips graze under your ear and his hand goes to the underside of your other ear, messing with your senses. He abruptly moves, causing your hand to fall from his hair as he moves to make space for his thigh between your thighs.

“When we lay together like this,” He smirks to himself, leaning his face just centimeters over yours, “enjoying each other's company and smiling, I feel so lucky,” He kisses down your jaw to your neck, praising you—you blush.

You’ve come to love this.

The barriers you once had have crumbled down a long time ago. Taehyung has shown you what love is, what it feels like. He keeps you safe, he wants to protect you at all costs and that means keeping you here.

“Wait,” You whine, the butterflies in your stomach were swarming happily, you push him away. “l- let me see your face,” Taking the hand that was once in his, you lift his face to meet yours. “I love your face, you have the best face.”

“Oh, you think so?” He let’s a little abashed laugh, “Thank you.” With a tender smile, he gives you a nice long look, nothing but adoration in those big round eyes.

“It’s true,” You grin, still in awe that he doesn’t understand his own beauty. It’s sweet looking at you, seeing your dreamy eyes, those pouty lips, makes him want to eat you. But he settles for breaking the eye-contact and kissing you. Mouth wide open, giving way to his oral fixation. You’ve had very few relationships, but from what you can compare him to, Taehyung knocks the competition out of the water in terms of affection. How he manages to cloud your senses till you’re raw with love amazes you. The rush from it is something you’ve never experienced before.

You’re pushed and pulled, but there’s no hostile battle, no attempt to coax the other into a preferred position, everything sets naturally, as it should. It’s how it’s meant to be, everything fits just right, and he aches to stay this way. He pulls away from the kiss, leaving you breathless and a bit confused. You lean up to try to get him back, but he moves his head away, cooing when you let out a disappointed mewl. “What’s wrong? Did I do something wrong?...”

“Oh no, sweetheart, you could never,” He thumbs at your cheek, “I just want to talk for a second.”

“Oh,” You purse your lips in thought, “okay, about what?”

“I’ve never had a reason to be anything for anyone before, until you, isn’t that crazy? I’ve never been this close to anyone like I am to you. I look at you and it makes me realize how lucky I am. I get to see your beautiful face,” He pecks your cheek, causing our face to flush, “how your beautiful mind works,” He pushes your hair back, staring at you sparkling eyes, “your body that just fits me so well, like a glove,” He drags a hand down your clothed abdomen and to your hip, resting his hand there with a gentle press with his fingers, “you’re perfect...”

“I’m not perfect,” You swallow, turning your head, which apparently meant to him that you wanted some more attention because he kisses at your skin again, “Tae,” You gasp, tears pricking at your eyes for a quarter of a second, you’re just excited, “don’t paint me out to have no flaws, the last person who did that was terribly disappointed,”

“You mean Jin,” He scoffs when you nod. This is not the ideal time to talk about your Ex, but leave it to you two to turn every conversation in a weird direction, “That doesn’t seem like reason enough to leave anyone,” His brows furrow deeply, obviously offended.

“It was a mutual disappointment, we wanted too much from each other. I wasn’t willing to give anymore, and he just didn’t see the point anymore, it was for the best but I don’t think it was easy for either of us.”

“Well,” He breathes against you, “I don’t know the guy but I know you, and that tells me one thing, it was his loss,” You squint, breath stalling when he leaves a particularly lazy kiss to your lips before pulling away with a smack, “he had to be out of his mind to want to leave you, to leave this...”

“Or to stay,” You clear your throat, “it could have gone both ways,”

“Well, you don’t have to worry about me, I don’t want to leave you, I want you with me always,” He lets himself drop on his side behind you, hand on your side, voice just a whisper, “I gotta have you, I love you that much, I need you that much...”

“Tae,” You try to sit up but he moves to get behind you, spooning you like a pillow to his chest while taking your hand. You look back so you can see his face and he moves over you so you don’t have to stretch too much, “I’ve been meaning to ask you something...”

“What is it?” He nuzzles his face against yours almost like a cat would, he’s a complete softy, ugh, it’s so cute. “Ask me anything,”

“What’s the one thing you want out of life?... I mean, if you didn’t have your job or you had the chance to make one wish come true, what would it be, what do you really want?”

Grinning ear-to-ear, he boops your nose with his finger, “You.”

“I’m flattered, but besides me,” You gaze down at his hand, “I’m being serious, there has to be something out there that you want...”

“There is,” His eyes drift to your twiddling fingers, “Years ago I built up the courage to look for my birth mother, found out she lives in a different country, she’s married and has two little boys...My half brothers. I used to think about what it would be like to meet them, how they’d like me,” The thought of Taehyung having a relationship with them warms your heart, “it’s a scary thought, but I want to see them one day.”

“Aw, you have little brothers...That’s really sweet, I hope that happens for you one day, I really do...Is there anything else?”

“I’ve always wanted a family, it’s something I used to dream about a lot, but now I have you,” He props his head upon his hand, his other hand still in yours, “we’re like a tiny family, the two of us.”

“Yeah, we are, it’s nice,” When you and Taehyung have pillow-talks like this, he becomes so pure and honest, it makes your heart melt. Just thinking of what he’s gone through in his life, and who he’s become over the time you’ve been together, it might sound cliche but he’s a miracle.

“There’s another thing,” He rubs his thumb against your hand, “I want a baby one day in the future, maybe after I’m married, or just whenever the time is right.”

“Really? I could see that, I know you really love kids and babies.”

“I’d love a kid of my own, maybe a few,” He can’t contain his little grin at the thought, “that would be so nice...”

To be a dad. That’s definitely a wish Taehyung would have, and you hope with all your heart that he gets that one day. You just lean further back into his chest, breathing in tandem with him.

“Love you,” You mutter, squeezing his hand tighter, praying that the walls that once kept you apart would never return. You’ve realized that there are some connections so strong, so meant to be, that no matter the circumstance, those two individuals will meet.

A merging occurs, giving life to new stars that are our own, creating a galaxy that holds a shape that can only be defined by fate. In that sweet moment, we create an intertwined constellation, a design filled with millions of our old and new stars, shining brighter than ever, in our universe.

“How’s the investigation going? Jin told me you reached out the other day,”

The busy lawyer sets his freshly ordered coffee in his cup holder as he drives off to his highly-decorated firm.

“I did, the case is more complicated than I initially thought,” Yoongi poured the subpar coffee in the Styrofoam cup, it’s 6am and he’s trying not to be grumpy, “if I’m right about my suspicions, it’s a fucked-up situation.”

“What’re you thinking?”

Yoongi looks around, seeing that the only person around was the woman at the desk. “The girl, along with the other individuals at that conference, was targeted. I got the names of the parties at the conference, they’re politicians of course but the details of the meeting were never released. I have a theory,”

He lowers his voice, looking around one more time before sipping his coffee, “I think someone at that conference had the other journalist killed. I went over each autopsy file and those people died from unusual things, but not unusual enough to suspect at first glance. Most of them died from too much of a medication that they were already taking, things like that. But this girl was abducted and I don’t know why,”

Jungkook makes a thoughtful noise. “What’s different about her that not like the others?”

“She went missing a little over a month after the others were found dead. It looks like a mistake to me,” He paces, “I don’t know if I’m being too outlandish, but I have a feeling she’s alive, we just need to find her,”

Jungkook responds with how he feels about it but Yoongi has to cut him short when Eunwoo walks into the station.

“You’re here early, Min,” Eunwoo smiles, beckoning Yoongi to follow him to his office, “I have some good news and some bad news, which do you want first?” Eunwoo leads Yoongi into his office and sets his briefcase down so he can pull what he needs out.

“Surprise me.”

“No luck on finding any leads for you on the Hwan group,” He takes a seat, opening one of the Manila folders, “they’ve been under the radar for years, I hope you can find something on them.

“And the good news?”

“It took a lot to pin him, but we’re bringing in Senator Leu for questioning.”

“Good, I think they know something that they’ve been trying to keep under the rug.”

“Yeah, I agree.”

Yoongi gets up, hand tight on the flimsy cup, “If you could give me a call before the questioning so I can come by, I’d appreciate it. I’m going to do a little digging into this Hwan Group, see if I can get some info that’ll help,”

Yoongi leaves the building with a to-do list but little does he know, detective Na Jaemin, knocking on on Eunwoo’s door.

“Come in,”

“Hi,” Jaemin slips into the room, an unusual grin on his face, “how are you?”

“Um,” Eunwoo looks around, confused as to why he’s approaching him like this but he shrugs, “good, is everything okay, detective?”

“Everything's fine,” Lies, “I just had a question about that PI, Min Yoongi,”

“Shoot,” Eunwoo awaits his question.

“Why is he so adamant about keeping this case open? I mean, I’m a detective on the case and I think we should start searching for the body,” His tone sounds innocent but he’s trying to sneakily plant this idea in Eunwoo’s mind, “we could be wasting precious time, the family deserves closure and we’re just dragging it on.”

“Detective Na,” Eunwoo stops looking through the folder, “given the other related cases, we have reason to believe she might be alive. Not every abductee is killed, even if that tends to be the case.”

Jeamin swallows, trying to think of how to save himself, “I know, I’m not saying that we should be pessimistic but realistic, rather.”

“I get what you’re saying, but on what prescient you’re saying it, I don’t know. I, and many of the others in this case, have reviewed the evidence and compared it to the other cases, it doesn’t add up. After the questioning today, we’ll talk, until then, your efforts need to go towards finding her alive and well,” Eunwoo walks past Jaemin and the detective gets the memo to get out of the office.

“Absolutely, sir,” With a feigned grin, he watches Cha Eunwoo go off to do his job while he fights the urge to scream.

It’s way too close now. They’re so intent on finding you. The Hwan Group has never been found out, it hasn’t happened in the history of the group's existence. Minho’s not gonna like this.

⇢ 1 year ago ⇠

“Girl, your deadline is in three days, why don’t you head home? You have time to finish it tomorrow.”

Suzy looks over your shoulder, eyeing your computer and the thousand words you were trying to edit. You’ve been at the desk since 8 this morning, it’s almost 6 o’clock at night and it’s kicking your butt. The flow isn’t coming to you anymore, your mind is too “This is terrible, I suck at this crime stuff...” You face plant on your desk, “Like, this is sad.”

“Boss thinks you’ll do a great job,” She leans against your desk, her keys jingling in her hands, “plus, Angela is on maternity leave, you were the easiest replacement.”

“I just, I’m not in a good mindset right now,” You shut your laptop, eyes lowering to our desk, “I’m having problems with my love life, it’s, uh, – not doing so well. I’m sorry, I think I just need to sleep it off,” You take your laptop and tuck it in your tote bag, eager to get away so you don’t cry in front of her, “or drink it off, whichever I get to first.”

“Y/n,” She places a hand on your shoulder, “do you want to talk about it?” That’s the one thing about Suzy, she’s more than a nice supervisor, she’s a friend. But you can’t imagine putting your relationship issues on her, she’s got a fiance to go home to, you don’t want to send your problem with her.

“No, no, I’m okay, you- You know how it is,” You feign a smile, hoping she’ll be convinced enough to let it go, “it’s just your usual boyfriend-girlfriend stuff,”

“Okay,” You mentally sigh in relief because she looks convinced, “well I’m here if you ever need to talk, see you tomorrow!”

The drive home was good, it helped clear your mind, it’s what you needed. When you walked into your empty apartment, you resented its vacancy. What you told Suzy was a half-truth, it’s more than boyfriend-girlfriend stuff, you’re dealing with the sudden absence of a boyfriend. For lack of a better term, you got dumped. But you saw it coming, you two weren’t seeing eye-to-eye, it would have been a disservice to you both if you kept dragging it on. Yesterday, you and Jin met at your favorite Italian restaurant and he said what he had to say.

“We can’t keep doing this,”

“I know.”

You remember moving your fork through your salad, trying not to look him in the eye.

“I still care about you, okay? We should still be friends,” He was letting you down easy, it needed to happen like this.

“Of- of course, I agree...” You looked up at him, forcing a small smile. That’s how that went. The waiter had pity on you and kept coming back to refill your salad when Jin left, he had an early shift at the clinic the next morning.

The pasta didn’t taste the same anymore and your salad became very sad to your taste-buds.

Now it’s just you and your trustworthy friends, Mr. Couch and Mrs. TV. An old movie flickers on the screen and you can’t follow it, maybe that’s just the wine talking.

* *

He told himself he wouldn’t do it, he swore he’d never do it. But he found himself on the internet searching her name, his mother's name. And after hours of looking, he found her. From what he could tell, she was still living, but her last name had changed. Not only that, but she had two little boys with her in a picture on one of her social media. She doesn’t live in the country anymore, she’s off in some foreign country, living a life quite contrary to the one she was living when she had him. To see her smile, to see her living a life without him, completely unaware of the man he is now – it hurts.

He shuts the laptop and stares at the TV in front of him, watching the old movie with blank eyes. On nights like this, he realizes how lonely he is. He lays on the couch, feeling as if he was cheated of an alternative life. He could have been the smiling boy in that photo, he would’ve been a good son, right? She could have smiled the same way if it were him next to her, with his half little brother.

At times like this, he finds himself wondering what his name would sound like on her tongue, she did name him after all. But his name is the only thing she left him with. Kim Taehyung.

This is bad, this is all bad.

The PI made contact with one of their middlemen last night. It’s likely that the payment and agreement form was leaked. Minho was pissed, if he ever finds the guy he’ll kill him. As far as the case goes, the feds aren’t backing away from the case either, not at all.

During his morning jog around the stately mansions neighboring his own, the thoughts that come to his mind are more than unpleasant. He’s never doubted Taehyung before, but he’s getting pushed into a corner here. The thought that Taehyung might not have gotten rid of you plagues his thoughts. However, Taehyung is the best, he’s never screwed up a job before. However, the only way he can get the truth is if he calls Taehyung. He has to tell him to release the whereabouts of the body so they can cover it up.

Taehyung glances at his phone from the shower, it’s Minho. His heart drops into the pit of his stomach. For a moment, he thinks about ignoring it, but that would only delay the inevitable. Wrapping a towel around his waist, he stumbles out of the shower to grab the phone.

“Hello?” Taehyung answers calmly.

“Kim,” Minho chirps, “how are you?”

“I’m fine,” Taehyung furrows his brows in suspicion, “you?”

“To be honest with you,” He breathes and out, “not good. I don’t know if you know, but that case is blowing up. The damn PI is on to us and he’s egging the guy over the case on. The contract was leaked. They’re bringing people into questioning- This doesn’t look good for either of us,”

“What does that have to do with me?”

“It was your job, Taehyung – it has everything do with you.”

“But what do you want me to do? I can’t stop the investigation, I did the job, what happens after I get my pay is no longer in my hands.”

“Do you not remember what you did? She was the only target you took, you didn’t leave the body to make it look like an overdose or a typical homicide, you kidnapped her. I don’t care what you’ve done with her, that’s your business, but reveal the body, then we’ll arrange a cover-up and this will all be over,”

“I can’t do that.” He replies simply.

“Why not?”

“I just can’t.”

“Give it up, Kim! Is she at the bottom of a lake? Did you burn her to ashes? Bury her? Look, I’ve been patient, but if I don’t get the location of the body, your job is on the line, and the reputation of the organization,”

Taehyung doesn’t say a word.

“Is she dead, Taehyung?”

Continuous silence pangs over the phone.

“If you wanted to start this whole rogue thing, you could’ve waited until your contract expires next year-”

“That’s not what it is.”

“Then what is it? Is she dead or alive? Answer the question.

Taehyung looks up at the mirror, for the first time feeling like things are truly crumbling around him. “I did the job.”

“Okay, y ‘know what? Fine. I tried to do this the easy way, but you leave me no choice. Reveal the body in the next 24 hours, or I’m sending a team to make you reveal it. I’m sorry it has to come to this, Taehyung. There are more important things in life than some girl-”

Taehyung hangs up the phone, slamming it on the bathroom counter, nearly cracking the screen. Some girl – just the way you’re being referred to makes him upset, you’re not just some girl. Had you two met in a different life, in a different way, things would be so much easier. But this is how you two met, he took you and somehow, he was shown incredible mercy. You fell into his arms and he into yours, it was just love, simple as that.

The patio is lined with Taehyung’s art and yours, the most recent ones. Some canvases are messy, art-pieces born of pure-play. Others are more deliberate, like the one you’re painting now. It’s a flower, the jasmine flower in the pot in front of you. It’s been a few hours and even though it doesn’t look that great, you’re trying.

The door creeks but you don’t hear it, you’re too focused and it makes him smile. Only when he wraps his arms around your waist do you acknowledge his presence. He rests his head on your shoulder, “That looks beautiful,” You smile, too caught up in what you’re doing to verbally respond.

"Hey, can we talk for a second?” He gently grabs your wrist to stop your continuous stroking.

“Sure,” You turn around, already anxious. Your eyes waver, hand dropping the paintbrush into the jar.

“We might have to leave for a little while," He steps away, hand massaging the back of his neck.

“The investigation is getting bigger, the police aren’t messing around anymore, they're looking for you. My boss called me, he wants me to give you up because he suspects that you’re still alive. The man who hired me to have you killed got busted, he’s probably being questioned as we speak. If I don’t reveal you in the next 24 hours, they’re going for come for me...For you.”

“Oh...”

That’s the only response that comes to mind.

“So-...So what does that mean for us?”

He takes a seat in one of the couches, elbows propped on his knees, head resting into his hands. He stays like that for at least 30 seconds before lifting his face to see your expression.

“I’m sorry,” He drags his hands down his face, “I don’t know exactly, I’m just trying to figure it out but this PI, he’s not letting up. And Minho, he’s not going to sacrifice his business covering for me all because I fell in love.”

You've been living in a pool of ignorant bliss.

Your family is probably a mess worried about you, especially your mother, your poor mother. You may be in perfect health, but she doesn’t know that. When she watches the news, she hears stories of girls being kidnapped and murdered, unspeakable things done to them. Thank God that’s not your situation, but she doesn’t know that.

Your job, you miss your job more than you realize. Writing day and night, learning new things, meeting new people, you actually miss it. But you’re torn. Taehyung is one of the best things that’s ever happened to you. If it’s possible, you’ve become so relaxed, so at peace with your life. Stress used to be a daily feeling for you, but you don’t feel it here, with him. He looks at you like an angel, like a celestial being sent to save his soul—you don’t deserve that. Throwing all caution to the wind, he spared your life. He kept you safe and hidden from those who wanted you dead. He may not believe it, but he’s a good person, he’s your angel.

“Taehyung,” You take a seat next to him, placing your hand on his thigh so he’ll look at you, “if I wanted to, would you let me leave?”

No, no, no. His heart sinks, eyes building with tears that he quickly wipes away.

“If Minho wasn’t looking for you, and it didn’t put your life at risk...” He trails off.

”It would be hard, but if- If that’s what you wanted, I would...I would let you go.” His nose burns red and he quickly loses the ability to keep the tears from rolling.

“Shit, I- I’m sorry, I’m just- I’m not trying to be so emotional...I just, I put you in a bad situation, and I know you miss your old life,” He turns from you, hiding his face so he can wipe the stray tears, “I’m so sorry I took that away...”

You embrace him, bringing his head to rest on your chest, a few tears rolling down your cheeks when he laments into your shirt. Heaving, breathing hitched, it hurts your heart to see him like this, you feel his pain.

Taehyung struggles with abandonment, loss. He’s shared his past, his childhood, if you can even call it that. The lack of paternal love, isolation and depression, it all shaped him in a way that he can’t shake. It’s apart of him, he didn’t think anyone would ever be able to deal with all of that so he’s pushed it down all this time. But then you came along, and you looked at him with kind eyes, like he wasn’t bad. And he tried to stop it, he tried to ignore it, but he couldn’t anymore, he was in love. He fell so deeply in love so fast, it was scary. He was obsessive at first, he had to be for the job. But even after the job, he kept wanting to know about you, he became enthralled with your existence, it was inevitable, it was fate.

“I want to go home,” He makes grabby hands to your waist as if you’d slip away if he didn’t. “Tae,” He responds with a small sob, “please, look at me.”

Reluctantly, with a blushed nose and gritted teeth, he looks up at you. The once large man, the man who engulfs you in both size and presence has diminished to someone so small.

“My home is wherever you are,” You smile, tears already streaming down your cheeks, “when I’m with you, I’m home...I’m where I’m supposed to be.”

“Y/n, you have to understand,” He sniffles, breathing deeply, thumb rubbing a tear from your supple cheek, “If you go with me, I don’t know if we’ll ever come back here, we’ll have to make a new life for ourselves, somewhere far from what we know. I’ve already taken so much from you...Are you sure this is what you want?”

“This is what I want, for us to be together. So it doesn’t matter where I am,” You cup his jaw with teary eyes, “as long as I’m with you.”

“I’m not talking until I have my attorney.”

The politician sits comfortably in the chair, hands crossed tightly, and posture perfect. After about fifteen minutes, his attorney comes in, pant-suit just as expensive as his suit and aura looking as if she had already gotten her client out of this.

“Lana Garza,” She shakes Eunwoo’s hand and takes a seat, “let’s get this over with, shall we?”

“Alright,” Eunwoo sits at the table alongside another detective, “the conference you held a few months ago, what were you there talking about?”

“Urban housing development, social and civil issues in the community.”

“And are you aware of the 5 journalists found dead just a week after the conference?”

“I heard it on the news, yes.”

“Mr. Leu,” Eunwoo stands up, walking across the one-way mirror that Min Yoongi and a few other detectives are behind, “has it ever occurred to you that the conference got little to no press coverage, that’s unusual for a man of your status.”

“My client has no control over the amount of media coverage he gets on an event, that’s a question you should ask the owner of the venue.” She interjects, causing Yoongi to furrow his brows at her defense, she’s gonna fight tooth and nail for that man, he can already tell. It doesn’t matter though, they have evidence against him. That’s the man that wanted you dead,

“Detective, if you don’t have any better questions for him, I think we’ll be leaving.”

“Okay, I’ll be a little more straight-forward. Did you have any involvement with the death of these five people and the disappearance of this woman,” He opens a folder and they see the picture.

Leu glances down at the photo. There’s a shift in his eyes.

“The woman, her name is Y/F/N, she’s a writer at The Autumn Times. For about a month, she was working on an article about you. On the day of publication, she went missing and the article was nowhere to be found.”

The lawyer glances at the photo. “Are you implying my client had something to do with the disappearance of this woman?”

“Did he?” He glances at Leu. “Did you?”

“Why on earth would I do something like that? If you think I’d even dream of doing something like that, you’re sadly mistaken.”

Suddenly, Yoongi barges in, walk right up to the man in question. “Cut the bullshit, we know you weren’t happy about the article, you didn’t want it to get out that you’re a damn fraud. For whatever sick reason, you thought having innocent people murdered would somehow keep you clean.” He takes out a thin folder, holding it up to his face. “This is the copy of the contract and payment to The Hwan Group with your signature on it.”

Leu exchanges look with the attorney.

“Mr. Cha, can you give Mr. Leu and me a moment?”

Yoongi and Eunwoo leave the room, giving her time to probably compile some type of plead deal.

“We have him right where we want him, couldn’t have done this without you,” Eunwoo stands with crossed arms

“Don’t thank me yet, I’m not sure who did the abduction, they keep those details encrypted. The jobs not done until we find her alive.” Yoongi bites his lip, muttering to himself,

Please be alive...

“Tae, Stop! There won’t be any left if you keep eating it al!”

It’s been a day since Taehyung got that call from Minho, you’re running out of time. But he’s been trying to keep your mind off of it, he made a cake and asked you to decorate it.

You swat at his hand but he gets the strawberry and cream in his mouth anyway. There’s a large mixing bowl of whipped cream frosting for the strawberry cream cake.

“Yes Ma’am, I’m sorry,” He laughs, fleeing the kitchen so you don’t get him with the spoon again, “it’s just so good.” You shake your head, trying to count the strawberries for the second time, hoping you have enough.

“Remember the friend I told you about, who couldn’t come that weekend,” He goes back to his computer on the kitchen island just a few feet away from you, “Yeosang,” You nod.

“Well, he’s back in town and wants to come over.”

You swallow, wondering what that has to do with you, “Okay,”

“I told him about you, he’s a trusted friend and he’d never do anything to hurt me. I think he could help us, wipe us off the grid and get us to a safe place. I invited him to talk about it today, he should be here soon.”

You give up on counting the strawberries and stare at him. “Why are you just now telling me this?”

“I didn’t want you to have anxiety about meeting him,” His tone softens because he knows you’re upset, “I know this entire situation is stressful.”

“Well, I feel even more stressed now!” You cross your arms, the change in your mood catching him off guard. “Why would you do that!? You know I haven’t been in contact with anyone besides you in months, how can I trust that he’s not gonna turn me in or- I don’t know, anything could happen.”

“Hey, I didn’t know it would bother you this much, I’m sorry,” He walks over to you, reaching for your arms but you make your way to the sink to wash your hands, “I wasn’t trying to upset you, you know that wasn’t my intention at all,” He tries to pull ou in to kiss your forehead but you slip away,

“You should have asked me anyway.”

“Y/n, this is hard for both of us, I know you’re scared, I am too. But trust me, Yeosang is a good guy-”

“Forget it, invite over whoever you want, it’s your house,” Cutting his sentence short, you walk to the other side of the island, taking off your apron, “I’ll finish this later, go back to whatever you were doing.”

If a trail of fire could follow you on your way upstairs, the stairs would be set ablaze. The 48-hour count down if nearing the 24-hour mark, it’s getting closer and closer, he’s scared for you and himself. You left the cake half-finished so he calmly gathered the ingredients and put them in the fridge for when you might come back for it. When he hears the sound of the tub faucet he realizes you’re going to take a bubble bath, he forgets about seeing you for the next two hours.

He’s learned to let you have your time, you’re owed at least that. Even though you two are together now and you love each other dearly, he’s been feeling guilty. That’s why if you have a little outburst or mood swings from stress, he dismisses it without judgment—you’re just scared.

Ding dong. Yeosang is finally here. From his lonely spot on the couch, he thinks about asking you to come down for a moment, but he decides against it, you’ll come down when you’re ready. With a small smile, he goes to the front door.

“Hyung!” Yeosang throws his arms around a smiling Taehyung. “Sorry I’m late, lost track of time at my folk's place,” Taehyung closes the door and when Yeosang enters the house further, he sees the bowl of fruit on the center table and helps himself.

“You’re good, I’m just glad you could make it,” Taehyung takes a seat on his previous spot on the couch and his friends sits in the recliner beside his, “you don’t know how much help this is for me.”

He smiles, popping a green grape in his mouth. “Anything for my brother, I always told you if you wanted to leave the group, I could help you, I’m surprised you’re deciding so soon,” He gives him a knowing look, “she must really be something, huh?”

“Yeah...At first, I wanted to save her because I just- I couldn’t kill her, and over time she started to trust me,” He sighs, thinking of the bond you two have now and how much he treasures it, “we just fell in love.”

“I knew it!” He giggles, crossing one of his legs under him. “I knew you’d be the first to settle down, you’re such a softy,”

“I know,” Tae leans back, “she’s just- She’s everything to me, she means a lot to me.”

You’ve been soaking in the tub for about an hour now, your face is warm and your body is relaxed. The friend he invited is over and you can hear them talking, but you can’t really make out exactly what they’re saying. Some part of you wishes you didn’t react that way with him, you know he’s doing what’s best for you two. After a few minutes, you build up the courage to drain the bathwater and get dressed in a comfy pair of pajamas.

You can do this, go downstairs, he’s doing this for you two. Letting your hair fall on your shoulders, hands tucked in your sleeves to make sweater-paws. Opening the bathroom door, you peek out and you hear a movie on and a low conversation. She’s just a little shy—you hear Taehyung mumble, and you smile at the fact that he’s not trying to force you to come out. With a brave face, you make your way to the staircase and hold the stairwell all the way down.

“There’s a nice little house there, the farm culture is great, you’d like it-” Yeosang pauses right when you reach the last step on the staircase. With anxious eyes, you stand at the end of the stairway, that’s when Taehyung finally looks back to see why he stopped.

“Hi there, you must be Y/n,” Yeosang beams a friendly smile.

Taehyung stands up, hand extended for you to take. Your silences pangs in the room and Taehyung speaks up, “This is Yeosang, the friend I told you about.”

“Hi...” You walk over and take Taehyung’s hand, feeling more secure now that you’re sitting next to him.

”Taehyung told me everything,” He sits on the edge of the recliner, “this must be scary for you, huh?”

You nod, “A little...” Tae gives your hand a comforting squeeze.

“You guys will be alright, there’s a new life waiting for you beyond the next 24 hours.”

“How can you be so sure?...”

”Don’t worry, it’s his job to get people to other countries, wipe them off the grid and give them different lives. You can trust him because I trust him,” You glance up at Taehyung, finding it hard to form a response, to truly believe what he’s saying. He plants a kiss on your forehead with a sight, “Everything will be okay, I promise.”

Yeosang went home that night and you laid on the couch with Taehyung, trying not to cry. Tonight will probably be the last night you spend on this comfy couch. Tonight will be the beginning of a new life and despite how in love you are, there’s no guarantee that this won’t go sideways. Tonight, the moon is full and bright, you can see it clearly through the patio window. The stars around it are also just as beautiful, and it makes you feel peace. The same moon and the same constellations shine for you, they’re always there, adding life to the deep-blue sky. When you look up and see the still beauty of the night and its moon and stars, you breathe in contentment. As long as the moon glows and the stars kiss the dark of night, it’ll be okay – you’ll be okay.

#taehyung #taehyung stalker au #kim taehyung #taehyung assassin #taehyung angst #taehyung fluff #taehyung fanfic #taehyung mafia au #taehyung smut #bts fanfic #bts angst #bts fluff #bts smut #bts stalker au #bts scenarios #bts mafia au #don't breathe

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xx-autmnlvr-xx · 5 years ago

Text

Tom Nook’s birthday (Tom Nook x Reader)

I am so very proud of this story! I worked on it for two-three weeks! It’s around a 20 minute read so I would get some snacks or a drink before reading.

I love Tom Nook and when I saw his birthday was coming up I was determined to write something for him! So here it is!!! It’s a genderless Y/N so anyone of any gender can read and enjoy this story!!!

Tags and warnings: cursing, violence, alcohol. So if it was a movie it would be rated PG-13

I am uploading this right now because my summer college classes started and there is just too much homework. LOL

I woke up to the sunlight hitting my bed and some villagers talking outside. I groaned, flipping over to go back to sleep. I opened my eyes slightly to see my painting of Tom Nook. I smiled and sat up.

"Wake up, (y/n)! You can't sleep in today!" I told myself, stretching. I left my home and looked out at the town where I am mayor. It really is a beautiful location. I walked and got a coffee to-go before heading to city hall.The lobby smelled of apples and sea. Isabelle was at the front desk, as sweet and well-combed as ever.

"Good morning, Mayor! How was your night?"

"It was wonderful," I replied, going up to her, "how about yours?"

"Oh! It was splendid! I kind of fell asleep doing some embroidery on the couch." She blushed, rubbing the back of her head.

I chuckled, "I bet you can embroider perfectly! I'll have to pay you for one of your designs!” She smiled and waved her hand playfully, then she looked like she remembered something.

"Oh yeah! The morning report! Well one of the villagers caught a birdwing butterfly and donated it to the museum, so I gave them a Lily seed and--" she continued speaking. I took a big sip of my coffee.

"Oh! And there's a guy selling art at the plaza! I thought about buying something but I am saving my bells for a nice dress." After she said that I spit out my coffee. She gasped.

I looked at her."Are you telling me Redd is here TODAY??"

She had some paper towels in her paw, "um, yes? I believe that's his name. Why?" I received the towels and leaned down and cleaned the coffee up.

"Do you know what today is?"

"May 30th!" She answered.I stood up and threw away the soaked paper towels.

"exactly! It's Tom Nook's birthday. Redd can't be here!"

"Oh!" She said, blushing, embarrassed, "I forgot about his birthday! What should we do?"

I sighed, "I'll have Redd leave. Can you see if Dr. Shrunk will let us have the party at his club? K.K Slider is Mr. Nook's favorite artist. Today has to go perfectly!"

She smiled, "of course! Leave it to me!"

I made my way to the plaza and when my eyes landed on the tent with Redd's logo on it I felt fire in my lungs. Why today? Why did he decide to come to (your town) on Tom's birthday? I had to get rid of him before Tom took wind of it. I entered and the kitsune smiled.

"Cousin! How's it been? Are you here to buy more of my wares? I have a fantastic selection!"

I raised my hand for him to be quiet, "Redd I'm not here to buy anything today. I'm here to ask you to leave town for this week."

He looked offended, "what? Why? I didn't do nothing to warrant the removal!"

"I know. But today is not a good day for you to be here."

"Why, cousin? Was my last art pieces wrong?"

"No no... Nothing like that. Look, if I told you you will never leave so just pack up your frauds and take the next train out. I'll even pay you the price you paid coming here." He looked me up and down and thought for a moment before smirking.

"Ooooh I know what this is about. That raccoon in the apron that rules this town."

"First of all he doesn't own this town. Second, he has a name!"

"Yes I know. Tom Nook," he snarled, his face contorting, "why is he the reason your forcing me out?"

"Like I would tell you. He just doesn't need you to be hanging around today."

Redd looked like he was thinking, "what is today? ...the 30th? Ah! Of course. His birthday!"

I rolled my eyes, "wow. Love how you had to think about it. You have until 3 o'clock to leave. The next train out is at 2."

I turned to leave when he stopped me, "hold up, cousin. I ain't leaving 'til you buy something. Policy y'know?" I rolled my eyes, pointing at something random.

He smirked, "no no no. You got to look."

I sighed and examined the pieces. He was behind me and started talking.

"You know, I remember when me and the raccoon was friends. He was cooler then. Could sell anything. He was fun to hang with. Then he tried to tell me that he loved me! Can you believe that? Left town that night I did. Couldn't be seen with someone like that." I chose a painting and started to leave.

"He's a crook, (y/n). Always will be. Don't get too chummy with him." I ignored him and left the tent.

I talked to my villagers and gave them invitations to Tom's party. Dug up some fossils and headed downtown. I went into (your nookling store) and was greeted by the twins.

"HEY, (Y/N)! HOW ARE YOU?" Timmy greeted cheerfully.

"..YOU!" Tommy followed.

I chuckled, "I'm doing great! I just came to see you both! Do you know what day it is?"

They nodded, "Mr. Nook's birthday!!" I kneeled.

"what did you both get him?" Timmy raised his hand eagerly.

"I built him a nightstand with a mug holder for his coffee!"

Tommy rocked on his heels shamefully, "i made him a small vase. Not as awesome as Timmy's gift but I tried."

I smiled, "hey, not everything has to be big. I think Tom is going to love your vase. In fact I bet he will put it right beside the nightstand so he can look at both of your gifts at the same time!" They grinned and high-fived.

"Now tonight is his party! But it's a surprise, remember? You didn't tell him did you two?"

"No, (y/n)! We didn't!"

"Good. He's going to love it! Now. I need some groceries!" I informed before grabbing a cart and going down to the snacks for the party. I paid for the items and left, heading to the able sisters.

I invited sable, Mable, and LaBelle, then I went and invited blathers and Celeste. I was happy at how well everything was going. I walked down to check on the club LOL gig when I saw a shadow scurry down the stairs to town. I was confused until the door to Nook Homes opened. Tom opened the door with a piece of paper in his paw. He looked around like he was looking for someone. I walked up.

"Hey, Mr. Nook! Is everything alright?"

He looked at me, "oh yes yes! Everything is fine! Someone just slipped a letter in and left! It was weird!"

I cocked my head to the side, "a letter? Can I see?"He put it in his pocket, "no no! It's all alright. Just a weird junk mail. No need to see it."

"Oh.. okay?"

He smiled softly, "everything's fine! Yes yes! I'm on my break so I'm going to go over to the bench and sit down with my lunch!"

He left. Curious, you entered Nook Homes. Lyle was at his place at the HHA table.

"(y/n)! How are you feeling this day? I hope you feel fantastic! Wanna talk about your home? Because the score is here and it is a doozy of a report!"

"No not today, thank you. I'm just wanting to ask if you know anything about the letter Mr. Nook got."

Lyle shook his head, "sadly no, but when Mr. Tom Nook looked at the letter his face dropped sure did! Boom! Like a bell to the floor drop! He immediately left the building, talking about his break. But... He's never taken a break before. Strange! As strange as a whisper in the night! Now that I think of it I should have checked on him! Yes I should've! Hindsight? 20/20 as they always say! And I think that's all!"

I sighed, "thank you, Lyle. Oh! I forgot. Do you and the other HHA members want to come to his birthday party? It's at 8 PM but it's a surprise! So do NOT tell him! Okay?"

"Yes! I won't tell him! He won't hear a peep about it from me! Zziip! That's the sound of my lips being shut. We'll be there! Thank you, (y/n)!" He smiled, receiving my invitations.

I said my farewells and left nook homes. The sun was already on the other side of the sky. I glanced over to the town clock to find that it was 4 pm. Yellow birds flew through town and landed on top of the post office, chirping at each other in conversation. The blue sky turned a baby blue. Knowing that time was passing I decided to check on the reservations. I turned toward the club, my eyes landing on the bench to find it empty. Tom has left the town square.

"What was in that letter? Tom never acted like this before." 'At least... Not since I met him.' I thought. I walked over to the bench and noticed a ham and lettuce sandwich and peach slices left on the seat, some yellow birds pecking at it. It must have been Tom's. My worry grew and a shiver ran down my spine. As if a light bulb went off, I remembered that Katrina worked in town. I turned on my heel and ran to her door, knocking before entering. Katrina had an incense of Amber and lavender burning and the lights were dimmed more than usual. She was sitting at her pillow, in front of the low table.

"I've been expecting you, (y/n). I believe I know why you're here, yes?" She said calmly, taking a drag of her cigarette from her opera length cig holder.I took a few steps and sat on the customer pillow.

"yes. I need help. Can you tell me what is up with Tom nook? Something's wrong and I don't know what. Today's his birthday and I want it to be brilliant!" She looked at me passively and took another smoke, smiling softly.

"I cannot tell the thoughts or future of another. You know that. It's against moral code. I can, however, tell you how your day will go and therefore, you will know how the party will end."

I nodded, "okay, that sounds good." I held out my hands and she placed her cigarette on the edge of the table, taking my hands in her paws. They were soft and kind of cold. We closed our eyes.

"Kah hee mee... YEEEEEEEE" The atmosphere changed. I no longer felt like I was in her building. I kept my eyes closed.

"Yes... The stars are at their best position... The future is as clear as a glass orb... Rain.... But the rain clears... Lights and music.... Yes... Yes it's all clear now. You will have a blissful evening full of laughter but keep your wits about you. There will be tears. Not from you, but from another. That is all I can see." The atmosphere returned to normal and she released my hands. I opened my eyes.

"Thank you for seeing me today. That will be 500 bells." She explained, picking up her cigarette and taking a drag.I handed her the bells and stood up.

"Hey, Katrina. Do you want to come to the party? It would be fun!" I offered.

She smiled, "thank you, but it's not in my fortune. Furthermore, the music will cloud my third eye. So I will have to decline."

"Alright. Thanks for the fortune!" I began to head out.

"And... (Y/n)?"

"Yes?" I asked, looking at her.

"Today will be the most important day of the year. So don't act hastily. And remember that bad times... Are just times that are bad." She calmly stated before looking off in the distance. I nodded and left.

Leaving the building, I looked up at the sky."Well that just left me with more questions." I huffed. My eyes dropped from the sky toward the stairs and landed on Isabelle walking down them.

"HEY, ISABELLE!" I called out, running towards her.

She looked at me with a bright smile, "Hello, mayor! I just got done convincing Dr. Shrunk in letting us use the club!"

"How did it go?" I asked, my hands nervously fumbling with my shirt.

"It went well! He was willing to do it for a 7,000 bell rental fee and a durian!"

"Alright. When does he need the bells?"

"Oh don't worry yourself about it! I took care of it." She giggled, waving her hand.

"No, let me pay you back!" I handed 7,000 bells to her.

"No no, I won't accept your money! I was happy to do it!"

"I insist!" I assured, we went down the last step.

"I'm honestly okay! Thank y--" she wasn't able to finish her sentence when there was screaming coming from the train station. We looked at each other before I put away the bells and we ran into the station.

The train station was tense. Porter was cowering behind the lockers and Katie was against a wall, recording the middle of the room with Rosie beside her.In the middle of the room stood Redd, a gigantic smirk plastered on his face. In front of him was Tom nook, his face contorted in a scowl and his eyes held the worst anger I have ever seen. Isabelle and I looked at each other. Her face was filled with worry and fright, you could tell he wasn't used to physical confrontation. I looked at the two fighting. "Why do you even come here, Redd? What do you have to gain?" Tom said frustratingly, his voice straining a little.

Redd smiled in false innocence, "I got art to sell, Nookie! You should be able to understand that!"

"Don't call me that! You know I live here and you know what you did. Yet you still want to come to this town out of the hundreds of others!"

The kitsune shrugged, "maybe I just like watching you squirm. You are just so pathetic that it's entertaining to see you like this." Tom's fur started to stand in end.

"You better leave, Redd." The tanuki said sternly.

Redd lifted his paws, "fine! Fine! I'll leave, Nookie!" He walked over to the monkey and tapped the podium.

"I would like to go to the city." Porter nodded nervously and typed something on the podium.

"I-it will just be 30 minutes." He said nervously.

"Perfect," Redd smirked, "oh, and nook?"

Tom glared, "what?"The kitsune turned around, walking close to him.

"How does it feel to never feel the love of another? You never hooked up on your birthday, have you? Do you feel lonely at night? I hope you do, stupid cunt-- UGH!"

Next thing I knew, Redd was on the floor and Tom was hunched over with his paw out, curled in a fist.

"If I ever see you or hear from you again I will kill you." He growled, his fur ruffled. He turned around and his ears twitched at the sight of me and Isabelle.Not a word was said, me and Isabelle moved out of the doorway.

"Thank you." Tom mumbled, leaving. I tried to follow him but Isabelle touched my shoulder.

"Give him a minute alone, (y/n). Anyway, we need to file an incident report for our records."

I shook my head, "can't we look the other way? Redd isn't even a villager in this town!"

She smiled softly, "we have to file or we'll get in trouble for withholding information." I sighed, leaving with Isabelle.

The clock hand ticked ever so slowly, every click of the second hand started to tug on my hair. I needed to get this over with so I could go. The sun has all but disappeared from the windows and the light from the bulb above me seemed to grow stronger. Isabelle tapped her pen to her chin, "what time was the fight?"

"Hhmmn... About 6:12?"

The shih tzu nodded and wrote it down, "I'm sorry, (y/n). I hated that all that happened."

"I know. Tom wasn't supposed to see Redd, let alone fight with him." I rubbed my hands on my face in frustration.

She looked at me silently for a while before speaking, "mayor, if it isn't an overstep, may I ask why today has to go so perfectly? I'm sure he has had good birthdays before."

I leaned back against my chair, "well I don't know about his other birthdays. He's never really talked to me about them. But I heard he used to sleep on a stump so it obviously couldn't have been a good childhood. I don't know if he would appreciate me talking about his old life when he was in the city so I'm not going to say anymore."

She nodded, "I understand... But shouldn't it be Timmy and Tommy organizing the party? Why are you putting it on your shoulders?"

I blushed softly, "well..." I sighed, scratching a spot on the desk."I know this is probably selfish, but... I am planning to confess to him tonight. Show him how much I love him, you know? And I thought that giving him a perfect birthday and a relationship on the same night would be a good idea." There was a looming silence. I slowly raised my head and Isabelle was smiling at me.

"That sounds so romantic! I'm sure Mr. Nook will love the hard work you're putting in this party."

I smiled, "thank you, Isabelle."

She looked at the time, "oh! It's 7 O'clock! Shouldn't you be setting up?"

"Oh, right! What are we missing on the incident report?"

"Nothing. I just finished it!" She walked over to the filing cabinet and slipped the paper in.

We made our way from town hall and stopped by my house.

"You go on and see if things are alright. I'm gonna head inside and grab the decorations and cake." I said.

She nodded, "okay! See you soon!"

I entered my home and went to my dresser, taking out the decorations and noise makers and stuffing them in my bag. I walked over to where I had the cake and smiled at it. The cake was a white honey cake with hazelnut frosting. It was three tiers high with cherries around the edges and on top. I gently picked it up and made my way out the door. The cake was a little heavy but it wasn't anything I couldn't handle. I moved a few steps at a time toward town square. After about 15 minutes I made it up the stairs to town square. Nook Homes still had lights on so I turned around so that only my back could be seen. I silently hoped Lyle was distracting Tom. I made it down the stairs and in front of club LOL. Exhausted, I kicked the door and called out to Dr. Shrunk. When the door knob started moving I backed up so the door could get opened. Dr. Shrunk's head popped out, "Hey, (y/n)! Come in!"

I made my way inside and finally put down the cake at the bar, I made a noise of relief. Isabelle was at the stage hanging the town's birthday banner we use for villagers birthdays. I smiled and went over to her.

"Thank you so much for everything, Isabelle."

She smiled, "it's really no problem! You never ask for anything and work so hard for this town it's the least I could do."

We went around the building and decorated it with pink roses for happiness and Sakura for kindness.Then I dug the other decorations from my bag. As we placed and hung them up K.K. Slider entered the club. Isabelle gasped and started bouncing in place.

"Woah! What's all this for?" He said lazily, putting his guitar case on a chair.

"Mr. Slider!" Dr. Shrunk smiled, "today is a special day! It's a villagers birthday! And you're his favorite artist! So (y/n) and their secretary has asked for you to play at his party!" K.K. Slider looked over at me and smiled softly, doing finger guns.

"I can dig that." Isabelle fainted.

Villagers started to file in around 7:50 and everyone was settled by 8:30.

"Okay everyone!" I called out, clapping.

"It's time for me to get the birthday tanuki! When we come back I'll knock. That's your sign to be quiet!" Everyone nodded and muttered agreements.I left the building and went up the steps. Crickets chirped in harmony. The lights in nook homes was off, which I was expecting it to be. I knocked rhythmically. I heard rustling inside and then nothing. I knocked again.

"We're closed!" Tom called out from inside. I took that as my cue. I opened the door and closed it behind me. The lobby was empty. At least, it seemed that way at the door.

He made a frustrated groan from behind the halfwall, "I said we're closed!"

I took a step, "I know, but I came to see you."

"...(y/n)?" He asked softly. It sounded like he was crying.

"Tom? Are you okay?" I walked forward a little.

"NO! I-I mean... Yes I'm okay. Please.. thank you for checking on me but I'm fine." I felt myself tense as I walked over to him.

My (e/c) eyes found his blue ones. They were shimmering and sad, his tears falling just to land on his fur. His nose was twitching with every sniff. His mouth slightly open as his teeth bit his lip to try to stop crying. Tom's whole persona he always tried to keep up like a mask has disappeared. Back against the halfwall, his knees were drawn up against his belly, a small bottle of whiskey in his paw. I felt as if I got stabbed. How long has he been like this? Since the train station? I fell to my knees beside him, my hands reaching out and touching his cheek.

"(Y/n)... Please.." he moved his head from my hand.

"Tom, I'm so sorry. I tried to prevent what happened. I guess it gave him ideas..."

He shook his head, "it wasn't just Redd. I just hate my birthday. Remember how I told you I had a pretty rough childhood?"

I nodded, "yeah?" He hugged his knees, leaving the whiskey on the ground.

"My mother left me on my fourth birthday with my father. My father was distant and would not come home some nights." He sighed before continuing, "then the house got repossessed and the bastard went to live with his coworker who hated children. I guess you can guess what happened." Tom looked at the wall on the other side of the room, more tears flowing down his cheeks. I stayed quiet, moving to sit with my legs crossed.

His lip quivered, "I was homeless and the only time I saw that deadbeat was on my birthday. It never went well. In fact, one time when I was eleven, Sable threw me a party at a park. My dad showed up and tried to do unspeakable things to her. I told him I never wanted to see him again and a park ranger called the police."

He took a deep breath and reached for the whiskey, "I was alone on my birthday up until Redd. It was the first time I was in love; then I had to open my mouth and tell him I loved him. Left the next day with all the bells and the day after that was my 25 birthday. Alone, penniless, and homeless every birthday. I'm lucky I have the twins, they bake me a cake. It doesn't help the trauma and being romantically alone, you know?" I put a hand on his knee, "I could never know how much it hurts, but I understand that you must feel so helpless. I am here for you, Tom. I will be here for as long as you want me to."

His face contorted into a grimace as he began sobbing uncontrollably. He let his legs give out as he turned toward me and throw his arms around my neck. His form shaking with every gush of tears. He sobbed into my shoulder, letting go of his mask. I hugged him tightly, comforting him as best as I could. We sat there on the floor for a few minutes as he let out all his sadness and fear onto me. His sobbing decreasing and his breathing calming softly. I petted his fur comfortingly.

"Thank you, (y/n). Thank you much." He said, slowly letting go and sitting up while wiping his tears. I smiled softly.

"Of course. I care about you." I blushed, "Tom?"

He looked at me, "yes, (y/n)?" He was drying his wet fur on his sleeve.

I looked at him, "I want you to know that I care about you so much. I never want you to feel alone again. I want to be the soul you can trust with everything. I want to be your partner in life. What I'm saying is..." I rubbed the back of my neck, getting scared. His cheeks started to flush through the fur. I looked down at the floor.

"What I'm saying is that I love you, Tom Nook. I want to be with you always. You don't have to say yes. If... If you don't feel the same way that is alright, no hard feelings. We could go back to being friends with no awkwardness. I-I... "

He lifted my chin and kissed me softly. His fur gently tickling around my lips and nose. The kiss was warm and soft and so full of love. I sighed in happiness, wrapping my arms around his shoulders and closing my eyes. He placed his paws on my hips and deepened the kiss. It was so wonderful that I never wanted to leave it. He stopped and looked in my eyes.

"I love you too, (y/n). It means so much that you would love someone like me. This is the best birthday ever."

My eyes lit up, "OH RIGHT! I forgot! You're birthday isn't over just yet!" I smiled and stood up, pulling him up by the paws."Where are you taking me?" He chuckled.

"I heard there was a birthday sale at club LOL. Let's see what Dr. Shrunk has at his bar!" I led him from nook homes to the club and knocked on the door three times.

"Why are you knocking? Isn't it open by now?" Tom asked, curious.

"Yes but I'm just making sure everything's decent in there."

"What?" He laughed.I opened the door and the club was pitch black. We entered and Tom made a comment about the darkness. I turned on the lights.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!" Everyone screamed, pulling confetti wands and blowing noise makers. Tom screamed and backed up at the sudden surprise. After he saw what was going on he laughed heartily. Then the laughter turned to tears.

"Y-you guys! This is so awesome! Yes yes!" He said through sobs. Timmy and Tommy ran up to Tom with a drawing. It was a childish painting of Tom and the twins on top of a mountain of bells.

"Mr. Nook! We drew you a picture of you and us for your birthday!" Tommy said cheerfully.

"I drew the bells!" Timmy added. Tom smiled and hugged the twins tightly, tears flowing.

"Thank you much, boys. Did you two plan this?"

They shook their heads, "nuh-uh! (Y/n) did! They invited everyone and had this club rented and even made you a cake! ...yes yes!"

Tom turned to look at you and smiled, "thank you so much, (y/n)."

Timmy spoke up, "ooh ooh! That's not all! K.K Slider is here!" Tom's eyes went wide, he looked at Timmy and then the stage. Everyone moved out of the way and Slider was sitting on a stool on the stage. K.K. smiled and held out his paw to motion toward Tom.

"Let's all give a groovy howl to the birthday boy!" He said. Collectively, everyone gave a howl and clapped for Tom. His whole face turned red and I was afraid he was going to faint with the excitement. Tom nook requested a song and everyone talked and laughed and congratulated him on his birthday. Blathers got Tom a surgeonfish plushie, sable sewn him a sweater vest that had his leaf logo on it, Brewster gave him a coffee mug, Isabelle gave a porcelain cherry decoration. I gave him (gift you would give Tom).The night ended with multiple drunk villagers stumbling out the door and Dr. Shrunk asking me to come in tomorrow to clean.

Not to mention the multiple kisses Tom nook and I shared in the corner of the club.

AFTER THOUGHT:

I just realized I forgot to explain the letter Tom got. Oh well! If you want to know what it said comment a question.

#tom nook #tom nook x reader #ac tom nook #animal crossing tom nook #happy birthday tom nook!#happy birthday tom nook #happybirthdaytomnook

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iguessitsaveryswitings · 4 years ago

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Peaches - Section 1: Act 3

Peaches is an original work by ‘iguessitsavery’, also known as Avery. All characters and events in this work are fictional, no matter if they may resemble real life people or events. All rights reserved. Copyright 2021

Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

Section 1: Act 3

Sona groaned as he dragged his feet through the dirt, dust picking up behind him. “Pick up your feet,” Shinosu barked, not looking away from their list, mumbling under their breath. Sona had decided to accompany Shinosu on their weekly market trip, expecting some exciting adventure, but instead was met with the bore of shopping.

Shinosu took a step towards a new stand, this one selling another ingredient they had needed for dinner. Sona dragged himself behind his friend, peering over to look a what this one was selling. Bone- broth? He had no clue what it was, and just by the name alone, it sounded gross. He gagged a bit, earning himself a swat against the back of his head from Shinosu, telling him to quit.

He shooed their hand away, readjusting his hair, before crossing his arms. “This is borin’! Why can’t we go ‘n do somethin’?” Sona whined, exaggerating himself with his arms to try and get his point across. Shinosu paid no attention to him, instead, arguing with the salesman about how his items were far overpriced.

Sona’s ears flapped against his head in annoyment, he wanted to do something, anything that wasn’t this. With a huff, he turned on his heel and began to make his own exploration around the market. He passed by a number of people who cast him glares and judging stares, immediately trying to get themselves out of his vicinity like he was ill.

He came across a paper nailed to a post, the drawings on it easily capturing his attention. He reached up high, tearing the paper from the nail and taking a look at the poster. From the drawings, it showed to people fighting with swords, an arena behind them with large words printed under them.

“Du-duel-ing, dueling. Tou-t-tour-na-ment, tournament. Dueling Tournament!” Sona’s ears flapped happily as he pronounced the words correctly. He barely knew how to read, so he was happy with himself at the small accomplishment. He couldn’t read the rest of the words, as there were too many and he didn’t understand them, but he did know what a duel was.

As he turned to run back to Shinosu, said person was walking in his direction, shoulders stiffened as they laid their eyes on the child. “The hell you been?” They asked, making quick strides over to the boy and grabbing him by the hand. “You know what they do to hybrids like you, you coulda’ been killed, boy!”

“I found ‘is poster!” He exclaimed, not fazed by how Shinosu was hastily dragging them out of the market, earning a few glances from passerby’s. Shinosu groaned as they finally exited the market, the boy’s hand held in their own. They turned towards the boy, dropping down to eye level with him. “You’re a hybrid, not a god. N’ what, what the hell you mean poster?”

With a smile, Sona handed over the poster he had snatched a few minutes prior, earning another groan from his friend. “You-you can’t be stealin’ things from the town, boy.” “Wasn’ stealin’! Jus’-jus’ borrowin’! I swear it!” SHinosu stood up again, handing the paper back to the boy and taking his hand in theirs as they began to walk in the opposite direction of the town.

“Where we goin’?” Sona asked, looking up at Shinosu as they began to make their way down another dirt road. “My place.” Sona opted to be quiet during the walk there, nothing to be heard but the sound of their footsteps and the clanking of glass in Shinosu’s bag. Shinosu much preferred the silence, opposed to Sona’s constant games of ‘20 questions’ or ‘how long can I talk before Shinosu hits me’. The walk back home was peaceful for them, the place they called home slowly coming into view between the trees.

Large fields of wheat found themselves on either side of the dirt path, Sona’s ears twitching as his head snapped from left to right, observing the area. He had never been near Shinosu’s property before, he was taking in every little thing he saw. He noted especially the scarecrow that had looked worm down and beaten in the center of the field.

In front of them laid a worn-down lighthouse, most of the windows boarded up, vines crawling up the sides, and the strong smell of the ocean wafting into Sona’s nose. He gagged again, covering his nose as he groaned, earning a chuckle from Shinsou at his misery.

The pair stepped onto the porch of the house, Shinosu quickly swinging it open as the boy ran inside. Immediately he ran over to the kitchen, climbing clumsily onto one of the stools against the counter. Shinosu sighed as they closed the door behind them, making their way over to the kitchen and setting their bag onto the counter.

As they picked out their ingredients for dinner, Sona looked around, his mouth slightly open as he admired the place. From where he sat, he could see all of the first floor. Behind his was a large bookshelf, filled up with books of all sizes. To his right was a small dining table and two chairs, both made out of wood. Could they be hand-carved?

In the far corner next to the table sat another bookshelf, this one much more empty than the one behind him, only a few rows of it filled. There was a red rug on the floor below it, and in the final corner sat a few pillows and an open book. Sona debated whether or not to get a closer look at the room, but was stopped when Shinosu started talking to him.

“Hope you like stew, m’not makin’ you anythin’ else.” His eyes widened as he focused his attention back on them, watching as they poured the bone broth they had bought earlier into a bot above the fire. “‘l eat anythin’!” He said hastily, propping himself on his hand to get a better look at the food. A mix of vegetables and meats sat in the broth and Shinosu slowly stirred the mixture, putting a pot on it to let it cook.

They turned around, focusing their attention solely on Sona, at least, that’s what he thought. He could never tell Shinosu’s emotions or feelings thanks to the mask they donned. It frustrated him.

“This place ‘s nice, you live here by yourself?” They nodded, making Sona smile wide, opening his mouth to say an idea but was quickly shut down as Shinosu waved their hand. “No, you’re not movin’ in, I got enough trouble takin’ care of you durin’ the day.”His ears visibly drooped, making him sigh as disappointment spread across his face.

Shinosu frowned underneath their mask as the boy got down from his seat, making his way to one of the bookshelves that occupied the house. His feet made dull thumps against the carpet as he walked up to the shelf, hands swishing back and forth against his sides as he looked over the books in awe.

“You read lots?” He asked, turning back around as Shinosu nodded, humming. “‘m learnin’ how to read ‘n school, s’hard.” Shinosu sighed, nodding again as they turned back to the food cooking. “You just gotta get good at it.” Sona frowned but disregarded it as he made his way to the table, taking a seat in one of the chairs and propping his head up with his arms as he looked over to Shinosu.

He took one of his hands down to take the paper out of his pocket, setting it in front of him and staring at it. “What’d the paper end up sayin’.” He asked, watching as Shinosu continued to stir the food, pressing a few bits of meat to the sides to test how soft it was. “Somethin’ about a tournament in a few weeks, winner gets a buncha coin.” They replied, grabbing a nearby bucket and pouring water over the fire, watching the smoke rise up and out the chimney.

They grabbed a wooden bowl and a ladle, pouring a sizeable portion into it and heading over to where Sona sat. His tail thumped excitedly against the back of the chair as the bowl was set in front of him. He hesitated to take a bite, waiting until Shinosu sat down across from him, nodding at him, to dig in.

He shoveled the stew into his mouth hungrily, the broth dribbling down the sides of his face. Shinosu took the opportunity to grab the paper that rested on the table, scanning it over and frowning. Before they knew it, Sona let out a loud, satisfactory sigh as he settled the bowl on the table.

Shinosu raised a brow. “Hungry much?” Sona nodded. “Was good, can I have another?” Shinosu nodded, grabbing his bowl and heading back over to the pot. Sona wiped his mouth against his forearm, tail thumping as he watched them start to pour him another bowl.

As he finished pouring it, a question popped into his mind. “Wait, why don’ you eat some?” Shinosu visibly stiffened, but set the bowl in front of him, taking their seat once more, pointing to their face. “Mask.” Sona tilted his head to the side. “Take it off then!” “No.” He frowned, food forgotten as his new goal was to get them to take off their mask. “Why not?” Shinosu crossed their arms, settling back against the chair. “Drop it.”

“But I ne’er ask ‘bout the mask before! I wa’na know!” Sona whined, slamming his hands against the wood table. Shinosu’s eye twitched, glaring at the brat in front of them. “Quit while you’re ahead, boy.” In a swift movement, Sona leapt onto the table, hand reaching out for the mask. If he was quick enough, he could see their face, he could see what they were hiding!

He wasn’t quick enough.

Shinosu grabbed his wrist, twisting it harshly to the side and slamming it down against the table. The stew toppled over, spilling across the table as Sona yelped. Shinosu let go of his arm, standing up and heading behind him towards the door. Sona rubbed his wrist, yelling at Shinosu. “The hell was that for?” Angrily, Shinosu threw the door open, hearing the back slam against the wall outside. “Out. Now.” There was nothing but venom in their voice, it was cold.

A chill ran down Sona’s side, but he still had the nerve to question them. “What?” Shinosu’s eye twitched, they tapped their foot against the floor. “10. 9-” Sona caught on quickly to the threat, scrambling out the chair and out the door. He stopped on the porch, turning back to take a final look at his friend, but was met with their arm closing the door shut once more, hearing it click and lock.

He stood there for a few minutes, half expecting them to open the door again. Waves crashed against the shore loudly, the sun dipping down under the horizon and the cold wind settled onto him. They weren’t going to open the door any time soon. He sighed, stepping off the porch and kicking his feet into the ground. He took one last look at the house, before disappearing between the trees and back towards the town.

Inside, Shinosu rested with their back against their chair, forearm covering their mask’s eyes. When they heard Sona’s footsteps departing, they sighed. Both of their hand reached towards the back of their neck, fingers fumbling with the buckle of their mask. With a few tries, the strap loosened, letting them slide off the bone mask and set it against the table. With a tired huff, they rested their forearm over them again, this time resting it on their eyes.

“Nosy kid.” They mumble out, rubbing their eyes and picking up the flier once more, now the corner wet from the stew. “What am I going to do with you?"

Thank you for reading the third installment of Peaches. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and are excited for many more to come.

#original character #original story #original characters #original writing #original content #original work #writing #fiction #peaches

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eeveedel · 4 years ago

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chubby actor louis (part 3)

hello, lovely people! we have yet another installment, and there’s lots of debauchery in this lil update. includes: weight talk, body image talk, bondage, dom/sub dynamics, stuffing, weight gain kink, and lots and lots of food. I hope you enjoy. mwah!

part 1 I part 2

Bacon, eggs with cheese, and a large coffee with cream and sugar started each of Louis’s days.

He slept in every day, and woke up to his breakfast on a tray next to him. Sometimes there were additions of some changes; sausages instead of bacon, scrambled eggs instead of fried, chocolate chip muffins instead of toast. But his food was always waiting for him, and usually, Harry was, too.

Harry worked out in the mornings, so he was usually sweaty, pink-cheeked, and shirtless, sitting next to Louis in bed when he woke up.

“Morning, sunshine,” Harry greeted him with a kiss, “Are you hungry?”

That was also a now-constant in Louis’s life. Harry always asking if he was hungry, if he needed a snack, if he wanted to try something Harry had been whipping up. And unless he was already painfully full, Louis usually said yes.

He pulled himself up, fluffing pillows behind him so he could sit up and eat his breakfast, the food on his many plates slowly disappearing until he just had empty dishes and a full belly.

He slouched back, lazily sipping his coffee while Harry showered him in his usually string of compliments.

“Look at your cheeks, sweetheart,” Harry hummed as he cradled Louis’s face, “They’re so round! You look so pretty.”

This is why they worked well together, Louis thought through his post-meal haze. He was a goal orientated person, always ploughing forward to the next task. But Harry took in details, observed both the beauty and flaws in everything, although he was so sweet he usually wanted to notice the former. He was the one who would sit back and soak in the little things, notice the changes in everything.

“I know,” Louis sighed, reaching up to touch his puffy cheeks. He folded his hands down a moment later, running his hands down his stomach and rucking up the edge of his shirt.

“But Harry, look at this,” Louis groaned, prodding at the spot under his belly button. “I have a stretch mark! Look!”

“I see it, honey,” Harry said with an easy smile.

“I have a fucking stretch mark,” Louis moaned, “I’m going to have it forever. I’m going to have to use those lotions pregnant women use. Oh my god, Harry.”

“You’re so dramatic,” Harry sighed, giving him a kiss, “I think it’s cute.”

“Of course you do.”

“What? I do. It just means you’re bursting with the love I’m giving you,” Harry said, “Twenty-three pounds of lovin’ in this belly.”

He gave Louis a little pat on his stomach, and Louis felt the morning tension and grumpiness unspool from his body. He sighed and leaned over, giving Harry a kiss as he placed his hand next to Harry’s on his own midsection.

“Well don’t give yourself too much credit, I did most of the work,” Louis huffed, “You can take more credit when you contribute seven more pounds.”

Harry offered him a wolfish grin, and kissed him hard on the cheek.

“Deal.”

Louis couldn’t remember a time he had looked forward to eating this much.

He vaguely remembered a time – now only about a month and a half ago – that he had eaten kale salads with salmon on top and mixed grains for dinner and washed it down with kombucha, where he had told himself that it was worth it for all the vitamins and nutrients and the bragging rights he would have amongst his industry friends for how had the most restrictive diet, but he had never been happy before, during, or after those meals. And he also remembered when he had started preparing for this role, where the thrill of eating to his heart’s desire was quickly chased with anxiety over his softening waistline, the voice in his head that said he was doing the worst thing in the world.

But those voices were gone now. There was just his tongue that craved things, and then his boyfriend that inevitable placed that craving into Louis’s hands within the hour. Poutine, with thick homemade fries, doused in orange curls of cheese and thick gravy, curly ramen noodles with eggs on top and tender pieces of beef soaked in salty broth, homemade banana bread slathered in Nutella. Before bed, ice cream with gobs of cookie dough, brownies with caramel drizzled on top, peach pie with whipped cream. If he was thirsty he was presented with ice cold glasses of grape or cherry soda, vanilla milkshakes, or homemade Frappuccinos.

He ended every day with a tight, gurgling belly, which Harry would happily rub, and in the morning, his boyfriend’s careful eyes and observant eyes put him on the scale and measured every inch of his body.

Three more pounds crept up on Louis’s frame, bringing with it the usual praise from Harry and also more and more of the minute details Louis was noticing more and more. His cheeks pressed hard up into his eyes when he smiled, and he barely had to look down or speak for the double fold under his chin to be noticeable. His biceps had softened and he soft bit of arm jiggled under each arm when he waved. He had to rock a little to get himself going before he got up from the couch, and he caught him breathing a bit harder at the top of their main staircase. More red marks appeared on his hips, stomach, and legs, and his thighs rubbed together hard when he walked through the house. Harry bought him some special powder to slap on his thighs and also a large pair of bike shorts to help the chaffing, but when Louis forgot either of them, he widened his stance a bit into a small, awkward waddle. Once Harry caught him doing it and pinned him against the nearest wall for a mid-afternoon quickie.

Harry told him things that would have scared Louis, once – “You’re going to have to go up another pant size soon” and “You know you’re overweight for your height now” and “You’re really fucking out of shape” – but he said them in a deep, raspy voice that turned those statements into the highest of praise.

Louis knew the impact his body had on his boyfriend, and he carried that with pride.

One evening, Louis half-waddled into the kitchen, delicately holding a hand on top of the curve of his stomach, and saw Harry shirtless, standing at the counter and tossing a salad. Harry turned when he saw Louis, his smile bright.

“Hey, you.”

“Can I have a snack?” Louis said, blushing a little. His stomach was just starting to gurgle again, even though after lunch he had had a whole package of sugary dried fruit.

“You’re in luck, I was about to call you for dinner,” Harry said, “Come see.”

Louis followed Harry into the dining room, his eyes widening when he got there. Harry had apparently chosen a theme of Italian and carbs for the evening, because their dining table had two big pans of lasagna, one filled with beef and marinara sauce and one with layers of cheese and a thick white vodka sauce. There was a big loaf of garlic bread nestled in a wad of aluminum foil, and a small tray with two chocolate lava cakes.

“Oh, fuck,” Louis whispered, moving past Harry to look at the food more closely. He leaned forward, the shelf of his belly pressing gently into the edge of the table, and reached towards the tail end of the garlic bread loaf. It was still a little far away, so he leaned further forward, his ass sticking out further behind him and his stomach harder into the table in a way that made him exhale hard.

Louis tore off a piece of bread and stuffed it into his mouth, and then he looked behind him and saw Harry, his eyes dark, a slight smirk on his face as he leaned on the divider of their kitchen. Louis chewed the bread and swallowed quickly.

“What, babe?” Louis asked, his voice already dropping a bit.

“Just enjoying the view,” Harry offered, the side of his mouth twitching.

“Yeah?” Louis asked. He batted his lashes and leaned further over the table. The pair of briefs he had grabbed were too small, and he could feel them wedging into his ass, showing off more of his cheeks. He bounced a little on his toes, feeling the way it made his behind jiggle, and then he reached a hand behind him, smacking his own cheek. “You like this fat ass, baby?”

“God, fuck,” Harry breathed out. He pushed away from the kitchen and came closer, grabbing Louis around the hips. He shoved himself forward, his jeans grinding roughly against Louis’s ass, and Louis gasped. He tried to stand and twist around to let Harry kiss him. He felt his sides fold into a thick roll, and just the feeling made him moan into Harry’s lips.

“You look so good,” Harry groaned as he pulled back, only to nip at Louis’s lip. “So sexy.”

He rubbed along Louis’s stomach, pressing gently into the softness, and Louis giggled.

“Thanks to you,” he said, “You keep me fat and happy, baby.”

“Mm,” Harry hummed, “You’re happy?”

The question seemed genuine, a little softer, and Louis pulled back.

“Yes,” he said firmly, “I am so, so happy.”

He set his hands on Harry’s shoulders, smoothing his hands along the hard, firm lines under his t-shirt.

“God, I don’t decided if I want to fuck you or have the food,” he groaned. “Can we have both?”

“I don’t want you to choke, honey.”

“Ugh, boring,” Louis moaned, “Always so worried for my safety.”

Harry was quiet, chewing on his lip, and then his eyes brightened.

“I have an idea,” Harry said, “If you don’t like it, we don’t do.”

“Okay,” Louis said slowly, “Tell me.”

“I get a pair of our handcuffs from the box upstairs,” Harry said, “Or rope. Or a scarf. Whatever you want. Tie you to a chair, feed you your dinner. And I’ll untie you when I think you’ve had enough.”

Louis felt a little thrill run through his belly at the idea, and his mouth dropped.

“Oh,” he exhaled, “I – okay.”

“Would you want to try that?” Harry asked. He was trying to keep his voice steady, but Louis could recognize Harry’s eagerness easily.

“Sure,” Louis said, “Sure, let’s do it, yeah.”

“Yeah,” Harry echoed. He took a step back and vaguely gestured behind him, “I’m gonna…get supplies upstairs. What do you want me to tie you with?”

“Um,” Louis said, “Rope?”

“Solid choice,” Harry agreed, “I’ll be right back.”

He seemed to sprint out of the room, and Louis heard him moving around rapidly upstairs, and then, his footsteps were going down the stairs, and soon, Harry was in front of him. He was carrying a soft length of bondage rope, thick and petal pink, and Louis smiled.

“Tell me what you need me to do,” Louis said gently.

“Sit,” Harry breathed out, his voice firm.

Louis pulled out a dining room chair and sat down, and Harry nodded.

“Scoot back, hands behind your hands…there you go.”

Harry moved behind Louis and crouched on the ground, and then tied the rope around Louis’s wrists, and then around the slats at the back of the chair, securing Louis to the chair. Harry put in a couple more ties, his hands sure and well-trained, and he gave them a tug, asking if they were too tight and adjusting the knots. Finally, he stood up and circled around Louis to go to the kitchen, and then returned a moment later with two big glasses of ice water. Then he grabbed his own chair, dragging it forward so he was sitting directly in front of Louis.

Louis watched carefully as Harry picked up a piece of garlic bread, dripping in bright yellow butter. Louis licked his lips and locked his eyes with Harry, his head already growing fuzzy.

Harry pushed his hand forward, holding the bread right next to Louis’s lips.

“Eat,” he said softly.

Louis opened his mouth gladly and bit into the bread, moaning immediately at the taste. He ate happily, swallowed down what Harry gave him and then licking his boyfriend’s buttery, crumb-covered fingers when he was done. Harry reached for another piece of bread and offered it to Louis, smiling as he swallowed it down. Another piece of bread appeared after that, bigger than the first two, and Louis once again ate it quickly, making Harry’s smile grow.

“Good boy,” Harry nodded. He paused just to wipe his hand with a napkin and to pick up Louis’s water, commanding him to take a big sip.

Next Harry dragged forward a tray of lasagna, the one filled with meat and red sauce. He retrieved a big serving spoon and took a hunk out of the corner of the dish, then held it in front of Louis. He ate, just like he was told, his tongue savoring the soft pasta, the rich sauce, the greasy cheese. He moaned happily and ate from Harry’s spoon, then eating another spoonful afterwards. Harry pet his hair and cooed, picking up more and more for Louis to eat, until there was a big space in the lasagna pan where they used to be food.

Louis’s stomach felt warm and happy, and he wiggled a little when Harry switched to the other pan, how giving him a taste of sharp-tasting vodka sauce that made his tongue tingle.

“So good, baby,” Louis moaned as he ate. He felt some sauce drip onto his chin and Harry didn’t go to clean it up.

“Thank you,” Harry smiled, picking up another spoonful, “Only the best for my boy.”

Louis closed his eyes and kept eating, his mind a haze of cheese and pasta. He only frowned when he felt how tight his stomach was getting. He blinked, looking down. He could his belly was sticking out, perfect round, and he looked up at Harry.

“I’m a little full…” he said, but Harry just blinked at him and dug up another spoonful of lasagna.

“You stop when I tell you to stop,” Harry said simply, “Open your mouth.”

Louis blinked, and then opened his mouth and did what he was told. When he was done with the spoonful Harry smiled and reached out, smacking the side of Louis’s belly and giving it a little jiggle.

“Good boy,” he praised.

Harry’s hand was steady, doling out more pasta, and then more bread, all with little sips of water. Louis took deep breaths, pulling a little at his constraints to get comfortable. His stomach was tighter and heavy, and he opened his legs a bit to give his stomach room. He felt it sag, he felt the elastic of his underwear starting to curl at the top, helpless to the weight of his middle.

“Such a perfect boy,” Harry said, “Eating so well for me. Making me so happy.”

Louis nodded, and opened his mouth at Harry’s next command. More bread. More butter. More calories that would go straight to his thighs and belly and ass. Or maybe his double chin, or his fat arms. It didn’t matter.

His eyes drooped as he ate, and he felt grease and sauce accumulate on his face and chin. His mouth opened less eagerly, but he still ate. He let out a little burp at one point, and blushed, but Harry just patted his gut and gave it a jiggle, telling him it was okay.

“One more bite,” Harry said, holding out more lasagna, “And then dessert.”

Dessert? Jesus fucking Christ. But Louis opened his mouth nonetheless and ate the lasagna.

As soon as he had swallowed, Harry fetched a clean fork and the two lava cakes, holding him out.

“These are for you,” Harry grinned, “Both of them.”

“Both?” Louis asked,

“Try for me,” Harry said, “Come on.”

He gave Louis more water, and then gave his belly a firm jiggle, and then, there was a forkful of chocolate in front of Louis.

His belly said no. But chocolate sounded so good. And Harry was giving him a look where no was not an option.

So Louis sagged forward and welcomed the cake into his mouth.

His brain was floating elsewhere, his mouth was full of chocolate, and Harry was still staring at him, coaxing the food between his lips.

Louis moaned as he finished one lava cake and then another one floated in front of his face. His mouth opened without thought, a robotoic motion of open-close-chew-swallow.

He barely realized the last bite was gone until Harry was kissing him, one hand cradling Louis’s full, tender stomach.

“Oh, good fucking boy,” Harry breathed, “God, look at you.”

Louis could only imagine what Harry was seeing; Louis exhausted, sweating, red-faced, his face covered in food and his soft body spilling out of his briefs. Harry started to clean him, rubbing a napkin on his face, getting some water into his system, and then he untied Louis’s wrists, letting him lean forward and cradle his stomach. The skin was tight and hot under his hands, and he moaned. Harry coaxed him to his feet, and Louis widened his legs, cradling his belly and waddling to the living room, until he could collapse on the couch.

Harry sat by his hip, rubbing his stomach, soothing the aching skin and giving Louis kisses on his face and wrists as he came down from his high. His stomach was screaming, but his head was happy. He was Harry’s good boy, happy and fat, always doing what he was told. That was enough.

As Louis became more lucid, Harry grew a bit quiet, still touching Louis carefully but not offering many words. Eventually, his voice came, quiet and uncertain.

“Louis,” Harry said softly, “Are you really happy?”

“Hm?” Louis lifted his head and looked at his boyfriend, who was looking at him so gently.

“Are you happy like this?” Harry asked, “Like you said earlier?”

He kept drawing circles around Louis’s belly button, but Louis still would’ve understood his question.

“Honestly, I think…I think this is the happiest I’ve been in a while,” Louis admitted.

His skin flushed as he said it, but he was smiling.

“I don’t have to get up early to do work outs I don’t even enjoy and eat food I hate, just for a body I’ll never feel good enough in,” he said. The words were rushed, but he meant them.

“I don’t know if I was happy like that, when we were the fucking ‘fittest couple in Hollywood,’” Louis confessed, “I mean, that was your thing, and I just did it because it was expected of me.”

He blushed, reaching down to squeeze his belly.

“But I feel so…so happy like this. In this body, with you, doing this,” he said, “Like I’m enough.”

Harry nodded, his face soft and content.

“I always had the feeling you didn’t like working out that much,” Harry said, “I mean, you did it, but I always had the feeling you wanted to do anything else.”

“Yeah,” Louis said softly, “And I hated half the food I used to eat. I guess some of it was alright. But I just felt like I had no choice.”

“Well know you can do whatever you want,” Harry said, “Although I will say, I kind of miss you when I work out. I miss having you there with me.”

“Maybe I can hang out with you while you’re lifting? Or on the treadmill?” Louis offered, “I can have a snack and talk to you while you do that.”

“I would really like that,” Harry agreed.

He reached down again to pet Louis’s belly, and Louis looked down at himself, a little lump growing in his throat.

“I’m going to have to lose this eventually,” Louis said sadly, “For my job.”

“Hey,” Harry said softly, cuffing Louis under the chin. “We have four pounds to go, honey.”

He gave him a kiss, holding his lips tight on Louis’s cheek before he pulled away.

“And I plan to make them count.”

Ideas sprouted in Harry’s head like weeds in the middle of spring.

For the next few days, he scaled back some of Louis’s meals. Still giving him everything he wanted, just a little less. A dozen buffalo wings instead of eighteen, four red velvet cupcakes instead of six, two calzones but no cinnamon sticks to go with them. Louis questioned him, a little frown forming at each of the meals.

“I’m planning something,” Harry teased him, “Be patient.”

And then one morning Louis woke up to no breakfast platter, and instead, Harry was just sitting next to him, a giant smile on his face.

“Wear something tight for me today,” Harry said, and then got up and disappeared. And Louis realized this was the day, this was Harry’s planning was paying off. And Louis was eager to mind out what it entailed.

Louis went to their closet, rifling the section that had become his out-grown clothes. He hated wearing tight clothes, he preferred his sweatpants and pajamas now above anything else, but if Harry wanted, he could deliver.

He selected a white button-down shirt and a pair of dark jeans, and started the process of doing them up. It was easier said than done, they had been new purchases when he and Harry had visited the mall, but they were already tight. All the buttons on his shirt did up, but the buttons were tight and the fabric stretched taunt on his frame, not hiding a thing. He rolled up his sleeves to his elbows and unbuttoned the first few buttons of the shirt, something that used to show off his delicate wrists and sharp collarbones that had since thickened and softened. He yanked on the jeans, which were snug against his thighs and ass, and he had to suck in to button them and then pull the curve of his stomach out of the waistband, letting it flop over top of his pants and pushing hard against his shirt.

He knew he wasn’t that big, but in this outfit, he felt massive, and it sent a little thrill through him, especially knowing how much Harry would love to see it, too.

He made his way down the stairs, breathing a bit hard at how the buttons cut into him. Harry was waiting for him in the doorway of the kitchen, and he waved his hand towards the breakfast nook, signaling for Louis to sit.

“You look gorgeous,” Harry smiled, “And I like the white shirt, too. You’ll probably get messy today. But maybe that’s good.”

Louis smiled, his stomach fluttering a bit.

“So what are you making me today?”

“Well, just one thing, actually,” Harry said.

Louis’s heart sank a bit. One thing, for the whole day? And then Harry disappeared into the kitchen and came back with a platter holding an enormous cheesecake almost completely covered in Oreos, chocolate sauce, and whipped cream. He placed it in front of Louis with reverence, staring at it for a long moment before turning to Louis.

“I spent all last night making this,” Harry beamed, “It’s around twenty thousand calories.”

The two statements hit Louis one after the other, and he blinked.

“Oh,” Louis stammered, “Oh, wow.”

“Yep!” Harry chirped, “And you’re gonna eat it today.”

He kissed Louis’s temple as the other man just stared at the platter, open mouthed.

“Gonna get you a fork,” Harry said, “Are you hungry?”

“I, yeah,” Louis managed.

“Of course you are,” Harry said, “My baby’s always hungry.”

He disappeared once more, and he returned with a fork. He pressed it into Louis’s hand, and then kissed the top of his head.

“Eat up, gorgeous.”

Louis nodded, staring at the feat in front of him. He wasn’t tied up, like he had been the night of the lasagna, but he felt just as much under Harry’s control.

He took a breath, feeling the press of the buttons into his abdomen. He had all day. He could do this. He would do this.

He reached his fork forward, picking up a bite of the cheesecake and placing it on his tongue. It was delicious, as always, so sweet it made his teeth sing, incredibly soft, and rich enough that he could taste the butter.

He easily ate through a full slice, and then another after that. He loved sweets for breakfast, and Harry had trained him for such indulgences with Belgian waffles and chocolate muffins presented to him quite literally on a silver platter. He even managed to polish off another slice, and Harry praised him with a kiss and a hug.

And so, for the rest of the day, the cheesecake was Louis’s constant companion. Anytime he felt the smallest bit of emptiness in his belly, he was back at the table with his fork, digging into the layers of cookies and frosting, picking away at the mammoth plate. Usually Harry worked up in his studio, but he seemed to be lingering around a lot more, either on his laptop or engrossed in his sketchbook, but still taking time to look up at Louis as he ate.

At lunchtime, a third of the cake was gone and Louis’s buttons were so tight he was gasping. He shoved cake into his mouth and then moved to undo his shirt, but Harry’s voice halted him.

“Leave that,” he said firmly, and Louis’s hand dropped immediately. He went back to his cake, sugar-buzzed and obedient.

He returned only an hour and a half later, eager for a few more bites. He didn’t realize until now how much hungrier he was throughout the day, his body trained for constant snacks. He sat down and picked up his fork, Harry sitting nearby watching.

He only had to reach forward a little before he heard a rip and felt pressure release on his stomach.

Louis blinked and looked down and saw there was a very apparent rip in his shirt, right over his stomach. There was also a bit of a gap at the side seam, and when he shifted, the rip widened. He looked up at Harry, his mouth opened, and his boyfriend’s eyes were dark.

“Eat your cake,” he said, his voice deep, and Louis reached for the fork without question.

As he moved around the house, the gaps in his shirt grew, the rips audible and showing more and more of his skin. He also saw how the white fabric was staining, smeared with chocolate and greasy bits of whipped cream. He would be embarrassed by it, but Harry kept giving him the most satisfying looks.

As dinner time approached, there was still a significant amount of cheesecake left, and Harry clucked his tongue.

“I worked so hard on this,” he said, “It better not go to waste.”

Louis’s fork found its way back to the plate.

Eventually, he decided not to leave the table. His brain was a swirl of black and white sugar, his body felt sluggish. There was a new rip under his right arm, and he had to keep breathing around the buttons, which were nothing short of painful now. He groaned as he took another bite, his body protesting, and he rocked forward a little, a hand cradling his stomach as he tried to sooth himself.

He heard the sound, a pop and then a high little ping on the ground, and then felt his stomach surge. Another pop. Another ping. He moaned, moving to the space where the two buttons had flown off, leaving his pale, soft belly exposed to the cool air.

He looked up at Harry and blinked, his vision blurring.

“I think the shirt’s too small,” he said, and then, his hand scrambled for the fork. More cake passed his lips. Harry groaned.

Louis couldn’t tell the difference between the next seconds to minutes to hours. It was all cake, all Harry’s gaze, all the feeling of his shirt ripping, unable to contain his form. His mouth and hand moved on their own in rhythm, working towards the goal as his other hand rubbed his stomach.

Eventually he blinked and rocked forward, and he felt the thick button on his jeans break, hurtling towards the ground. Louis hiccupped and adjusted his hips, his stomach pushing down the zipper of his pants.

He felt Harry’s hand on his belly and he leaned back, accepting a kiss on the head. He hadn’t even known Harry was there. He was too sugar drunk to know anything.

“I’m gonna pop,” he heard himself moan, and Harry soothed him.

“But you just have a little more,” Harry said carefully, “Please. Come on. Make me proud.”

Make Harry proud.

Louis’s mouth lolled open and stayed at way. A hand that wasn’t his fed him, rubbed his belly, slipped his fingers under Louis’s ripped shirt.

“Good. Good. Perfect,” Harry coaxed, “Just a little more now.”

Louis barely heard Harry when he was done. He collapsed on the table, panting, his shirt ripping even more. He thought he felt a rip along his inner thigh, but he didn’t know. He felt Harry’s hands lifting him up, guiding him to the sofa, offering him water.

“Never make me do that again,” Louis wheezed, and he heard Harry laugh.

“Once is all I wanted,” he heard his proud, proud boyfriend say, “And God, were you absolutely spectacular.”

Louis expected a bit more pomp and circumstance, in all honesty.

It still the morning, although Louis had slept in so it was closer to midday. Harry had to shake him awake and Louis immediately groaned and yanked the blankets over his head.

“Not now,” he huffed.

“Up and at ‘em,” Harry said gently, “Come on, honey. Scale.”

“I’m hungry,” Louis protested.

“I know, honey,” Harry sighed, “But we gotta weigh you first.”

“Can’t it wait?”

“If we weigh you after you eat, it might not be accurate,” Harry said, “Come on. I’ll make you whatever you want.”

Louis considered resisting a bit longer, but he could hear the eagerness in Harry’s voice. It was his favorite thing, to see the numbers under Louis’s feet rise.

So Louis rolled out of bed and followed Harry to the bathroom. At Harry’s instruction he stepped up on the scale, not even looking down to read it. He rubbed at his eyes and yawned, blinking weakly as he tried to wake up. The scale beeped under him, evening out, and he waited for Harry to read him the number like he always did.

But there wasn’t anything.

He turned to his side, seeing Harry was still, just staring down.

“Harry?” he asked, “What is it?”

Harry lifted his head, his smile brilliant.

“179.”

Louis blinked.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“So…I’m…”

“You did it, babe,” Harry said, “Well, you went above and beyond, actually.”

“One pound isn’t above and beyond.”

“It is,” Harry insisted, “It is to me.”

He surged forward, wrapping his arms around Louis and giving him a squeeze that made Louis squeak.

“You’re perfect,” Harry breathed out, “Absolutely perfect.”

Louis could only stare down at the number below him, the reality catching up to him.

He had gained thirty-one pounds. He was out of breath, hungry, and covered in stretch marks.

And he had never felt better about himself in his entire life.

After a moment, he stepped down, and let himself be fully hugged by Harry, snuggling into his chest.

“God, wow,” Harry said again, “I’m – I can’t believe this.”

“I know, right?” Louis sighed, “And hey, you helped with the last sixteen. So you can officially claim most of the credit.”

Harry laughed, shaking his head.

“I mean, I’m kind of…sad that it’s over, to be honest,” Harry said, “This has been so fun.”

“Well,” Louis drawled slowly, “I have a whole movie to shoot. Gonna have to keep this up for awhile.”

He patted his stomach and watched how he jiggled.

“You up for helping me with that?” Louis asked, “Can’t get skinny now.”

Harry’s mouth twitched, and he gave Louis a long look before grinning once more.

“I think I would be interested.”

#drabbles #larry fanfiction #larry fan fic #larry fanfic #chubby actor

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elvendorks · 6 years ago

Text

Sovereign 6

Summary: After a shopping spree with Jimin and Taehyung, Y/N finds her hands full with new adoptive friends.

Genre: Hybrid au, fluff, humour, angst?

Warnings: This fic will contain some violence (not explicit) and strong language (curse words).

Pairing: Female Reader x OT7 (platonic … or is it all platonic?), Namgi

Word count: 1k

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 , Chapter 4 , Chapter 5 , *** , Chapter 7 , Chapter 8

"Okay, so... for reference. What are you guys’ favourite foods?” I cleaned my mouth with a napkin as I finished my food.

As expected, Namjoon, Hoseok and Yoongi all mentioned different types of meat, while Jin just told me he liked anything as long as it wasn’t meat since it wasn’t good for him and Jungkook just said that he liked anything wrapped in lettuce.

Though, Jin’s answer brought me to think about what they couldn’t eat. I knew Taehyung had to hold back on chocolate and caffeine since he had dog DNA, it’s not like he couldn’t eat it at all, but he had to ingest it in very small amounts for it not to end up exploding later in our bathroom.

I glanced around, they all seemed close to finishing their food. “And is there anything you guys aren’t supposed to eat? Or something that will, in big amounts, be bad for you? So I can avoid those foods.”

They all looked at each other before Jin spoke up, “I guess Jungkook and I can’t do meat and Hoseok doesn’t seem to be able to digest onions. Yoongi and Namjoon are cats so they only eat meat.”

That seemed fair, I’d have to pay way more attention to what food I made from now on, but that didn’t worry me, I had way too much time on my hands and this was a great way to spend it.

“You guys seem all tired, I’m not surprised really, it’s getting late. If you guys want to, we can skip the other questions and go straight to bed.”

I turned my gaze towards Jungkook, smiling at how he seemed to be fighting against his own eyes in a battle to keep them open.

“Let’s go, we’re having a fun day tomorrow.”

All of the boys stood up from the table carefully before stepping back into their new rooms, while Taehyung stayed next to me and took my plate to the sink. “I’m gonna wash this, go to sleep, you look tired as well.”

Of course he would notice, I was very grateful that he did though, since this day had been exhausting. “Thanks Taetae.”

“Anytime, gummy bear.”

I shuffled over to my room so I could change into my pyjamas and as soon as my head hit the pillow I was out cold.

I woke up in a cold sweat and with tears running down my face, and as soon as I sat up so I could call Jimin, I found his figure staring at me from the door.

I tried to breathe in deeply but it came out shaky and unstable. Apaprently this was exactly what Jimin needed as permission to walk over and sit on my bed.

“I was-”

“Hey, hey, don’t worry peaches, I know.” He scooted closer and wrapped his arms around my middle, letting me lift my arms and wrap them around his neck. He lifted one arm so he could pull my head into the crook of his neck and I simply hid myself there.

I sniffled every few sconds, but my tears had stopped a couple of minutes after Jimin pulled me into the hug. “I’m-” I sniffled again. “I’m sorry.”

He shook his head fiercely and pulled me closer to him, wrapping his large grey wings around us. “How many times have I told you not to apologize? You don’t need to apologize for something that is not your fault. Stop it.”

I took in a deep breath and nodded as he pulled back slightly to look at my face.

“Let’s lay down, peaches, I’ll stay here with you,” he offered. And who was I to deny the offer of soft cuddles all night? Or however long we had left of it.

“Alright.”

He pulled us towards the center of the bed and let himself (and me with him) fall to his side onto the mattress. “Do you want to tell me about it or should I just distract you?”

I blinked away the tears and frowned, not really sure if I wantedto talk about the nightmare, he had probably already guessed what it was about.

“What do you think of the boys?” I asked softly.

“Distraction it is, then.” I let out a small giggle before letting him continue. “I think they’re alright. I just really hope that they won’t hurt us. They’re technically strangers and that doesn’t seem very safe. But I’m still proud of you for helping them out, I just really hope we can all become very close.”

“I hope so as well...” I buried myself in Jimin’s chest before whispering to him softly enough so that only he could hear, “I think one of them heard us, I saw someone at the door and it definitely isn’t Tae.”

When Jimin stiffened, I ran my fingers through his hair to calm him down, “You don’t have to check if it’s an intruder or if they’re snooping around. Let’s give him the benefit of the doubt even if it’s just for today.”

“You know I can’t just do that, Y/N...”

I shrugged, “But I’m telling you to leave them alone for now. They probably just wanted a glass of water. And I know you blame yourself for the incident, but Jiminie, we were kids. If I can’t blame myself then you can’t either.”

“It’s completely different, Y/N. I was supposed to keep you sa-”

I pulled my hands from his neck and placed them on each side of his face, squeezing his cheeks and preventing him from finishing. “We were both kids, I just need my Jiminie right now, not the royal guard.”

He looked into my pleading eyes and nodded. I slowly let go of his face and sighed softly before I felt his lips pressing onto my forehead. A bright smile left my lips and I quickly cuddled up to him again, burying my head into his chest and feeling his arms around me as I went back to dreamland.

Masterlist

Tag list: @kittycatlittle23 @jungkookssistan @fryedshiken@vivideley @chimchimsauce @sherri5261 @minyoongi-infiresme@sammythemooseman @tinyashlay @namujune @bldvnbln

A/N: If you want to be part of the tag list then just message me about it anywhere and I’ll add you.

#bts #bangtan #bts angst #bts fluff #bts hybrid au #bangtan hybrid au #bangtan angst #bangtan fluff #namgi #bts x reader #namjoon #taehyung #seokji #jimi #jungkook #yoongi #hoseok #bts au #bangtan au

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lokisgame · 6 years ago

Text

Side Effects Of A Heat Stroke [3/3]

Part I Part II

The light outside changed from glaring white to soft peach. Clouds that gathered all day rose high, wind tugging at curtains in wide open windows. It was almost 5pm and Maggie decided it was time to call it a day.

“Food was wonderful, Dana.” She said again by the door, hugging her daughter and kissing her cheek before reaching for Mulder to close the two step distance between them.

“Fox, I hope to see you like this more often.”

“Mom!” Scully exclaimed as if she said something inappropriate.

“Me too,” Mulder chuckled and they let go, his arm going straight to the small of Scully's back, "as often as I’m invited, of course.” He added looking down, meeting her gaze and smile.

“As if you ever needed an invitation,” she teased, arm around his waist in return.

Maggie watched them banter the whole afternoon and realized that, even when they weren’t actively saving each other’s lives, they worked quite well together. They had the pull-give routine mastered better than most married couples. Dana’s stubbornness pillowed by his easy manner, his crazy ideas grounded by her reason and patience. They met somewhere in the middle, in almost perfect balance, completely taking it for granted.

"I should get going," she said bringing them back "take care of yourselves and each other." Mulder could feel Scully roll her eyes, so he took charge for once, "we will."

As he closed the doors after Maggie, Scully went to draw back the curtains. The air felt cooler than expected, backing heat losing it's bite.

"I should get going too," he said halfheartedly and lying completely. Nothing waited for him at home, no one to talk to, no one to hold.

Scully ignored him, "you wanna go for a walk?" Mulder looked at her, puzzled. "It looks like it's nicer outside than it is in here." She explained.

"Sure, why not."

Afternoon sun made the trees and buildings cast long shadows, so they stayed on shaded side of the street, watching the sky, the clouds changing.

Scully thanked God for straps and flowing skirts, the only way to survive summer in the city. The relief of feeling the breeze on bare skin.

Mulder chanced more than an occasional glance at her, palms itching to take her hand. He couldn’t take his eyes of her ever since she changed, her skin, the light dusting of freckles. She carried herself a little differently as well, still alert and present, but slowed down, taking in the day as it unfolded without a solid plan. This was Scully for friends and family, one he wouldn’t mind seeing more often, if she allowed it.

Focused on her, he never noticed the sun hiding behind the clouds, so when she jumped, he jumped with her. Scully touched her shoulder then reached out one hand, palm up.

“Did you feel that?” only then, Mulder noticed the wet polkadots staining the sidewalk. “Think we’re gonna make it back?”

“I don’t know.” He replied and she smiled as if she didn’t mind either way.

The air smelled of rain on concrete, cool raindrops on skin, each one like a welcome kiss. Scully kept looking up, marveling at the feeling.

A rumble in the distance, could be thunder, could be a truck. Mulder found her hand.

The rain came harder and they glanced at each other, smiling, ready for anything, walking two more blocks before the sky opened above.

Water splashing under their feet, they ran, hands twined, through empty streets. Her dress soaked through, as was his white shirt. Between the hair falling into her eyes and the pelting rain, Scully barely saw where they were going; for once laughing at the phrase ‘following blindly'.

Pulled to the side, she almost tripped over the three steps he made her climb. A nook hiding the door to some old apartment building, not much but at least it was dry.

Mulder pushed her up, away from the rain, shielding her with his body as much as he could, helping to brush away wet strands from her face.

“Just our luck,” he wiped his face on the wet sleeve.

Scully gently traced her fingertips over his brow, musing out loud, “not a trace.”

“Trace of what?” He asked, charmed by her unexpected tenderness.

“Sunburn,” she explained, playfully booping the tip of his nose.

Hands in pockets, Mulder chuckled, wanting a little too much to hold her. “It's always been like this, I heal fast.”

“Not me,” she leaned against the wall, seeming content to look down at him for once, "I'd be red as a lobster for a week."

“Really?” He mirrored her stance looking up, and saw her shiver. “Are you cold?”

“It’s the rain, it’s nothing.” Taking one step up, again eye level with her, he freed one hand, reached for her. “Really Mulder, I’m fine.”

The words pushed him back, hand falling with his eyes, it was too good to last. Cold rain hit him as he took a step down.

“Hey, come here,” gently tugging on his shirt she pulled him back, one step up and out of the rain. “I don’t want you to catch cold.”

Her arms around his neck made him bold. “Then you’ll have to keep me warm.” He risked putting his hands on her hips, then around her waist. She drew him closer, lips parted, their eyes locked on each other. They never noticed the flash of lightning, so she jumped when thunder crashed above them.

“I've got you,” Mulder whispered and closed the distance. Lips meeting messily, fist tastes of softness, open and waiting. Scully kissed him back, eagerly melting into his arms, catching his lower lip and once he felt the tip of her tongue, he was gone.

He pushed her against the wall, her arms tight around him, fingers in his hair, body pressed into his, each line and curve trembling. She slowed down, roller her hips against his. Mulder gasped, breaking the kiss suddenly. “Slow down!”

She looked at him, picture of innocence, and done it again. “Wicked creature," he teased and their lips met again, slower this time, exploring, learning, hands risking tentative roaming. Palm on her ass made them both shiver, she felt him grow hard.

"Who's wicked now?" She drew back, looking at him with new yet familiar eyes. The goofy grin reaching his eyes, swollen lips, ready to steal her breath again, any moment now.

"Why now?" he asked, quiet wonder in his tone.

"I don't know." She rested her forehead against his, the storm was slowing to a steady hum of rain against sidewalk. "Because we're not being chased or fired. Because we're not dying, because it's summer and your shirt hangs in my closet."

"Because I love you?" He asked, pouring all the need and promise into the easiest and hardest three words he'd ever spoken.

"Yeah," she kissed him, soft and slow, "because I love you."

#x files fanfic #msr fanfic #side effects #heat stroke and sunburn

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mariequitecontrarie · 7 years ago

Text

All of Me: Chapter 14

The Fic: Belle French is a pudgy librarian who’s in love from afar with “town monster” and ace reporter, Mr. Gold. Little does she know, he’s head-over-heels in love with her, too. Chapter Summary: Gold arrives at the Frenches for dinner. Contempt is on the menu. A/N: I promised you guys an eventful dinner with Edith and Moe. Hope this delivers. A little Grandpastiltskin and practical daughter-in-law bonding, too. Thank You: Amazing beta: @magnoliatattoo; Artwork: @wizzygold

Stay with Me (between Ch 9 and 10) | Pieces of Me (Q&A)

{On AO3}

Chapter 14: Dinner

He is all lines and sharp angles I am soft curves and extra padding But it doesn't matter so much When he's holding my hand Intertwined and all jumbled up, Or when he's kissing me Closed eyes and only nerves Igniting How strange to think the knife Could learn to love the butter - Georgia Marginson-Swart

Gold rang the Frenches doorbell and clenched his cane, grinding the brass tip into the concrete. Cold beads of sweat trickled down the back of his neck and the edges of his vision began to blur. He sniffed the eucalyptus leaves in the bouquet he was holding, an attempt to open his lungs and ward off an anxiety attack. Don't panic now, Gold. Dinner with Belle’s parents was your damn idea.

Blowing air roughly through his nose, he reminded himself why he was here.

For Belle.

Earlier, he had stopped at Emma and Neal’s house on his way, under the guise of needing a wine recommendation. His daughter-in-law had narrowed her ice blue eyes and pushed him toward the living room sofa.

Wincing, he sank onto the couch like a recalcitrant teenager, preparing for the lecture.

Henry popped out an earbud and looked up from his Kindle. “Where's grandpa going?”

“Grandpa has dinner with Belle and her parents at their house,” Emma explained.

“Can I come? I’m awful hungry and I haven’t seen Miss Belle in daaaays.” Henry patted his stomach, which growled on command. “What’s to eat?”

Gold had shot Emma a hopeful look. Maybe she would let him bring Henry along. Even Edith French wouldn’t draw blood in front of an innocent child, would she?

Don’t be such a coward.

“We saw Belle at the park yesterday, remember?” Emma shook her head. “And no, you can’t go to dinner.”

“How come?”

A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. “Because Grandpa has to face this dragon on his own.”

Henry wrinkled his nose. “Is this like when Grandpa went to war?”

Gold covered a snort. The child was too perceptive for a five-year-old. “Eh, something like that.”

Henry nodded as if making a decision, then abandoned his game and trotted off.

Emma put her hands on her hips. “You have a thousand bottles in your wine cellar. We have a six-pack of beer in the fridge. You’re not here to ask me the difference between claret and cabernet and we both know it, so what’s this all about?” She squinted at the six bottles he’d set on the coffee table.

He shrugged, unable to explain why a simple meal with Belle’s parents seemed so much harder than other challenges he’d faced. At the moment, crouching in a bunker with bullets whizzing by his ears seemed preferable to what was ahead. “Do I need an excuse to visit with my family?”

“Of course not.” Emma tapped the bottle of Gewürztraminer. ““Belle likes this one. You’re on your own for the rest.”

She slung an arm around his shoulders and steered him toward the front door. “Remember, Dad, you’re there for Belle. To show her what it means to have her in your life. She needs you to be strong. Besides, wasn’t this family dinner your idea?”

He nodded, shaking off the sense of impending doom and straightening his spine. “Yeah.”

“Look, don’t let Edith rile you. She’s just as worried as you are. Maybe even more. Look her in the eye and stand your ground!” Emma squeezed his shoulders vigorously, then thwacked him between the shoulder blades.

Gold yelped and rubbed his back. “That’s your sage advice? ‘Stand your ground?’”

“Exactly. The Frenches don’t have to love you, they just have to not hate your guts.” She crossed her arms and leveled him with a look, then nodded toward his car. “Now be the gentleman we both know you are and move your ass. You’re gonna be late.”

“And to think this is where I come for encouragement.” Gold smirked at his daughter-in-law and tucked the wine under his arm. He started down the walkway back to his car.

“Wait!”

Henry.

Gold turned around, and his grandson thrust a plastic sword at him. “Here you go, Grandpa.”

“Ugh!” Gold pretended to parry, then stumbled back, feigning a mortal wound. He threw up his hands. “I surrender!”

“No.” Henry rolled his eyes. “You’re supposed to take it.”

“Me? Why?” “To slay the dragon!” The child grinned. “It’s super strong, so even if she breathes fire you’ll be safe. But can you clean off the dragon guts and bring it back when you’re through? It’s my favorite.”

Gold swayed on his feet, scowling at the flowers and wine he had brought.

He braced himself against the green siding of the Frenches split-level house, taking deep breaths. Dinner with Belle’s parents had seemed like such a smart, civilized idea, but now the taste of panic coated his tongue. The wine. He’d forgotten to put it in the gift bag. Quickly he made the switch, removing it from the paper sack and dumping it in the wine bag. He crumpled the sack in his fist, and flung it into the bushes as the door opened. There stood Edith French, looking prim in a tailored navy suit.

“Good evening.” He inclined his head and offered his most benign smile, then tipped the flowers toward her. “Thank you for inviting me to your home.”

“Mr. Gold.” Her answering nod was stiff. She eyed his painstakingly-chosen cluster of peonies, roses, and hydrangea, then took a small step back, her mouth twitching. “I’m allergic to flowers.”

“I see.” He lowered the bouquet and tried again, this time whisking the wine out of the bag.

The brackets around her mouth deepened. “And we don’t drink.”

“Ah. My apologies.” He choked the neck of the bottle and ground his back teeth. Getting through this dinner was going to require all his patience.

“I drink,” offered a familiar, lilting voice. “And I love flowers.”

Belle. His heart flooded with happiness when she appeared, edging Edith out of the doorway.

All at once, the glut of tension in his stomach melted away. Seeing her was all he needed to be at ease. Belle calmed him in a way no one else ever had, and somehow he knew whatever struggles came their way, they would handle them together.

“Good evening, sir.” She accepted the bouquet, then curtsied.

“My lady.” He bowed, then simply stared. A lace dress the color of wine accentuated her luscious curves, its scalloped, plunging neckline molding to her breasts, while the delicate fabric swished around her thighs. “You’re stunning.”

“Do you like it?” She dipped her head with a coy smile, then peeked up at him through her lashes. “It’s new.”

Mrs. French cleared her throat.

“I’ll keep these flowers in my room, Edith.” Belle grabbed his hand and pulled him into the house. “The table’s all set for dinner; I’m taking Gold on a tour.”

She grasped his fingers and squeezed, then led him toward the staircase. He slowed down and gave her a questioning look. “I thought we were going on a tour.”

“We are. Starting upstairs.”

Her lithe fingers danced along the bannister and she tugged on his hand. Helpless to resist, he followed, admiring the gentle sway of her hips as she led him up the stairs and down a sparse hallway.

She threw open a door to a bright and colorful room festooned with pillows and fabrics, and ushered him inside. He looked around with pleasure, taking in the modest-sized space draped with blue and cream and accented with bits of sunny yellow. In the brief moments he spent in the Frenches’ foyer, he had observed a sparse, cold residence. Hard furniture with straight lines, a dearth of personal effects. There weren’t even any photos dotting the mantel.

Belle’s room was a complete contrast.

Knick knacks decorated the surfaces of shabby chic furniture. It was clean yet cluttered, bursting with books, photos of exotic destinations, decorating magazines, and whimsy. There were candles, dried flowers, and colorful ceramic bowls, all artfully arranged on every available surface.

“Just sit anywhere,” she said lightly, then grabbed a mason jar and dashed into the hallway. There were two choices of seating: a dainty, bright yellow kitchen chair draped with clothes, or a large canopy bed. In a moment Belle was back, the jar now filled with water, and he sat down on the edge of the bed and let his cane slip to the floor.

“You’re very relaxed tonight,” he said, admiring her aplomb as she arranged the flowers in the jar. She was in her element here, as she was in the library, her movements certain and focused.

“I’ve been drinking,” she whispered loudly, with a sly smile and a wink. She lifted a bottle of peach schnapps from the bureau and took a large swig. “Sorry about Edith. I was hoping to get to the door first, but she beat me there.” She held out the bottle. “Want some?”

“Sure.” He smiled and took a small sip of the bright, cloying orange liqueur. “Not bad.”

“My favorite.” She giggled and took another large drink. The door closed with a soft thud and he heard the sound of a lock click. Belle moved forward, coming to stand between his thighs. Her hands grazed his chest and she pushed him down on the bed, then followed. He groaned when she straddled him, one rounded hip on either side of his. She rose above him, settling her pert bottom across his thighs. The glimpse into her lush cleavage made his skin prickle with desire, and she fanned his face with her warm, peach-scented breath. “Do you want to kiss me?”

The words went straight to his groin. “Always,” he whispered on a strangled sigh.

Cupping his cheeks with both hands, she flicked out her tongue to lick at the seam of his lips. With a moan, he parted for her. Usually he was the one to initiate physical affection, but tonight, Gold relished Belle’s boldness. As her hips sunk into his, she slid her tongue in slowly, warmth and sensation spreading through his veins like remarkable whiskey. They’d kissed dozens of times since they started dating, but Belle’s mouth was always new, bright, and exciting. Tonight she tasted of ripe fruit and honey. He wondered if the rest of her skin was as sweet as her mouth, and then he couldn’t think at all as she leaned over him, pressing him deeper into the pillows. Warm lips smoothed down his jawline, nibbling and lapping at his throat.

He reached up, gathering her lushness against him, all deep curves, persimmon-smooth skin, and silken heat. His hands wandered up the rough-smooth lace of her dress, dipping into the curve of her waist before sliding higher until the edge of his palms reached the soft, plump undersides of her breasts. Of their own accord, his hands cupped the swell of flesh, grasping and kneading, and his thumbs grazed over her stiff nipples, eliciting a soft whimper from her throat. Her small sounds and sweet, tender curves struck him like lightning, and heat permeated his body, chasing away the stress and concern from earlier; he was surrounded by Belle, all her warmth and sweetness enveloping him. Giving into his need, he canted his hips, her voluptuous friction arousing him beyond reason.

There was a crash, then an expletive floated through the floor vent.

“Oh!” Belle’s mouth broke from his, and he lay there panting with fractured breaths. Lying in Belle’s bed, dazzled by her fragrance, was a dangerous place to be.

He watched in dizzy fascination as her cleavage flooded with color, eyes pure blue and drowsy. She giggled and their gazes locked, a singular sharing of souls known only to lovers. Belle moved slightly, her hips rolling forward, and he knew she could feel his desire. His temptress eased off his body to curve against his side, her curls tickling his chin. “My parents are downstairs. My room is right above the kitchen.”

Like two children who had been caught snatching cookies, they laughed, nervous, breathy sounds punctuated by the angry clatter of pots and pans.

His breathing returning to normal, he propped himself up on one elbow. “Do you think they heard us?” He was ecstatic to do anything Belle wanted, but he didn’t want to be a complete ass under her parents’ roof.

“I don’t care.” She shook her head, her long curls dancing around her shoulders. “I’m a grown-up person and I can make out with my hot boyfriend whenever I want.” She reached for the schnapps again.

“Sweetheart.” He stilled her hand, massaging her wrist with his thumb. “Easy on that stuff, ok? I don’t want you to have a headache later.”

“Ok.”

She nuzzled his neck and he collapsed against the bed, then slid his arm under her pillow, his hand bumping into something hard. His fingers seized a book, and he slid it out from under his head. Belle’s journal. He passed it to her like a hot potato. “Ooops. Sorry.”

She kissed his nose, then flipped through the pages like an accordion, a paper-scented breeze hitting his flushed cheeks. “Some of it’s about you,” she confided in a wide-eyed whisper. “Wanna see?”

“Are you sure you want me to read it?” he asked, still averting his eyes from the open book. He hadn’t forgotten her embarrassment when he’d accidentally perused her journal during their breakfast in the library.

Besides, he wasn’t certain he wanted to look. Belle was always hinting she found him attractive, but he didn’t share her view. His nose was large and crooked, his eyes hooded and too small for his face. Not to mention his limp. He was nothing compared to the ravishing beauty cuddled against him, a woman who was not only physically stunning, but one who had the kindest, purest heart of anyone he’d ever met.

She bit her lower lip, then licked it. “I’m sure.”

He scanned the page, then tugged at his collar. Reading her private thoughts and being this close to her ignited the fire in his belly once more, her smoldering gaze pinning him to the bed. When he read the words “delicious, tight backside,” he closed the book. “I didn’t realize you were such a colorful writer, Miss French,” he teased.

“When the subject matter is as fascinating and delightful as you are, I can be quite creative.”

“You, ah, wrote about my hair.” He raked a self-conscious hand through his cropped locks.

“Yes, when I met you it was long.” She stroked a finger down his clipped sideburn. “I remember thinking at Henry’s birthday bonfire that you looked…good. Different but good. And I wondered why you decided on such a change.”

“I did it because I wanted to look younger.” He looked down at the rumpled bedspread. “Fresh, and like someone you might want to go out with sometime.”

“You cut your hair for me?”

He nodded, still without looking at her, feeling like an ancient fool.

Belle pealed with laughter, mirth sparking in her cerulean eyes.

His mouth fell open, afraid he had said too much. God, I sound like such a creeper. Belle noticed his chagrin, and laid a comforting hand on one of his. Her other came to his chin, fingers pressing the dimple there, as she pulled his gaze to hers.

“No one has ever done anything like that for me. Changed themselves to try to please me. But you don’t have to do anything to make me notice you. Erskine, I love your long hair. I love your short hair. You look wonderful either way. To me, there’s not a more handsome man anywhere. And not only because of the way you look. I want you – all of you – your hair, your mind, your smile, your sense of humor, your hands…” she circled the pad of flesh on his palm just below his thumb and grinned. “I really love your hands.”

She stopped and closed her eyes for a moment. Patiently he waited, his heart pounding with expectation. When her eyes opened, they were blazing with intensity, a rich, blue fire, and he held his breath.

“I love you.”

Belle clasped Gold’s hand, accepting his support as they descended the stairs to dinner. She admired his profile as they entered the dining room together, his aquiline nose, his strong jaw. The more time she spent with him, the more comfortable and desirable she felt. As formal as he was in his suits, silk ties, and cufflinks studded with gemstones, everything about him put her at ease.

For some odd reason, Erskine had been delighted at the prospect of being invited to dinner. He said he wanted to know her parents better, but wasn’t that just the sort of thing good boyfriends said?

Still, she felt confident and happy when he held out her chair at the table, inviting her to sit, and took his place next to her.

“Oh!” Her father nodded in approval, then lumbered toward Edith to pull out her chair. “Good idea, Gold.”

“Mr. French, good evening.” Gold reached out to shake Moe’s hand.

Making himself useful, her father opened the wine and poured generous glassfuls for everyone but Edith.

Edith took her seat and beginning to serve the way she always did, doling out meager portions of food, like a soup kitchen running low on rations. She wasn’t happy unless she was measuring every gram down to the final grain of rice.

As the bread basket went by, Belle glanced down at her rounded tummy, the fresh, yeasty scent of baguette a subtle chiding that she didn’t need to eat at all. Edith met her eyes, giving an almost imperceptible shake of her head. Belle didn’t think it was possible for someone else’s neurosis to actually make a person fat, but Edith’s measured stare made her feel like she’d put on ten pounds just by sitting down. She let the basket pass without taking a roll.

“What were you two doing upstairs so long?” Edith dropped the serving fork and it clattered against the edge of a platter.

“Looking at books.” Belle lied blithely, eyes on her silverware.

“Dirty books.”

“What?” Belle choked on a sip of wine.

“There is lipstick on your collar, Mr. Gold.” Edith raised a judgmental eyebrow as she fanned small portions of pork tenderloin, salad, and slivers of the potato pie—Belle’s one contribution to the meal��across each dinner plate. Marco had taught her to make the combination of potatoes mashed with eggs, butter, milk, and prosciutto.

Gold looked up at Edith, surprised at the elder French woman’s lack of tact. He levelled his gaze at her, not once flinching under her stare. He was a grandfather, for God’s sake—kissing his girlfriend was no cause for shame.

“So there is,” he countered, his gaze steady, as he reached under the table to seek and squeeze Belle’s hand.

Relief flooded Belle’s chest, along with the realization that Gold wasn’t susceptible to Edith’s guilt trips wrapped in hostility. They had done nothing wrong, although the memory of his caresses did feel deliciously sinful. She sent him a grateful look.

“I’m not sure what this potato concoction is. Belle made it and she won’t tell me what’s in it.” Edith poked at her potatoes with a knife as though they might rear up and bite her.

“Sformato di patate,” Belle enunciated in Italian. “Potato pie.”

“It looks delicious.” Gold glared at Edith, and Belle gulped as the tension in the dining room escalated.

Her father, at least, seemed blissfully unaware of the contretemps as he forked large bites of everything on his plate. For a few minutes there was only the scrape of utensils against dishes as they ate in deafening silence, Belle and Gold both picking at their food while Edith sawed each bite into tiny pieces. Occasionally she allowed a bit of food to pass her lips, then chewed for long moments, her mouth twisted.

“Remember when Sean used to come for dinner and bring those health bars?” Edith speared a morsel of potato and gave it a nasty look.

Her father guffawed. “The rabbit food? Those things weren’t fit for gerbils,” Moe muttered, shoveling another large bite of potatoes laced with prosciutto into his mouth.

Belle stifled a laugh behind a mouthful of dry pork. There was a certain satisfaction in hearing her father’s true feelings on her former fiancé. She wanted to remind Edith that she had been the one to dump Sean, but there was no point.

Gold interrupted the strained silence that followed.

“Belle, this is as good as any restaurant in Florence. Marco will be proud.” He smiled broadly, catching her eye over the rim of his wine glass. The sharp, slightly sweet wine was sublime with the rich creamy potatoes, and Belle flushed with pleasure. Her feeble stab at cooking was the starring dish of the party.

Clearly uncomfortable with all the praise directed at Belle’s dish, Edith fidgeted, interrupting the pleasant banter.

“Travel much, do you Mr. Gold?” Edith asked, her nose wrinkled like she smelled rotten eggs. “I don’t know how or why you would do that, with everything wrong with the world today…” Edith leaned back in her chair, her arms crossed. “It’s like people who use cilantro. None of it makes sense.”

“Well, I did for a time. I was an international affairs reporter for The Globe,” he offered.

“He was more than that,” Belle interrupted, the schnapps and wine making her brave. “He won a Pulitzer for his coverage of the first Gulf War.”

“Oh, yeah?” Moe nodded his approval. For the first time she could remember, Belle’s father put down his fork to pay attention to what she and her guest had to say. “Were you embedded, Gold?”

Gold relaxed as the conversation turned away from the food and into familiar territory. He flexed his fingers. “I was. I was with the Army’s Third Infantry division. Tanks.”

Moe swiveled toward Gold and Belle, presenting Edith with his meaty shoulder. “See any combat?” Moe took his first sip of wine. “Oh, that’s good.”

“Thank you, and yes, I did see some,” Gold answered, not wanting to get into details, but appreciative of Belle’s father’s interest in his work. He felt a bit like a teenager impressing his date’s father before the prom, and he was amazed to discover it wasn’t at all an unpleasant sensation.

“Fiddlesticks!” Edith huffed, rising from her chair and gathering her plate. “Boys and toys.” She shook her finger in Gold’s direction. “That was a conflict – not a war. They’ll give an award to anyone these days.”

Belle felt the color drain from her face, her momentary happiness giving way to despair. If the conversation wasn’t about Edith, or food, or Edith’s food, it was unwelcome.

Gold bristled. “Actually, Mrs. French, many men lost their lives. Children died. Villages burned. It was a war, and it’s rather insulting to hear opinions otherwise. And perhaps they do give out many awards these days.” He clenched the head of his cane until his knuckles cracked. “Makes it all the more interesting when a person doesn’t have one, yes?”

Edith’s back straightened, a steel rod through her spine, and she leveled her head and looked down her nose at her guest. Belle felt tears spring to her eyes, and she swallowed hard, fighting to retain her composure.

Gold smiled at Belle, a quick nod to let her know he was okay, that Edith wasn’t getting to him. But her eyes were dim and unseeing. She was frozen, her expressive face drawn and shuttered, as though Edith had sucked every ounce of hope and happiness from her soul.

The confidence and grace he’d observed upstairs drained out of her, and as he watched it happen, he became angrier with every passing second.

Anxious for something to do, Belle reached into the bread basket to pull out a roll with trembling fingers.

“Belle.” Edith eyed the roll in her hand and shook her head again.

Belle didn’t think. She opened her fingers and hurled the dinner roll at Edith’s smug face. It bounced off her forehead and landed in the pitcher of water with a plop, bloating and sinking to the bottom of the glass. Bloated and sinking. That was her.

Her stunned gaze collided with her stepmother.

“Excuse me,” Belle said, in as dignified a tone as she could muster. Mortified, she rose from the table and left the room on leaden feet.

“Belle!” Edith’s shrill tones pierced the silent, stuffy air. “Come back here!”

Gold dropped his napkin and pushed back from the table, his cane scraping the hardwood in a discordant squeak. His mind was spinning in vicious circles. All he wanted to do was go after Belle, to drag her out of this mental institution and never let her cross the threshold again.

He would take her out for a real dinner with real food, where they could relax and laugh and enjoy themselves. And drink a bloody glass of wine without censure. Then he would install her at Emma and Neal’s house or beg her to move in with him, marry him. Whatever it took to get her the hell away from here.

“Mr. Gold.” Edith’s frown was severe. “Keep your seat. Let me explain. Please.”

He could tell how much the appeal was costing her.

“Fine.” He conceded for the moment, lapsing into the frosty tone reserved for the lowlifes he didn’t want to interview but had no choice. He snapped open his pocket watch, then looked pointedly at Edith. “This better be good.”

Belle stood in the hallway outside the dining room, straining to hear their conversation.

A dull headache throbbed in the center of her forehead, the pain sharpening with every passing moment. Maybe the peach schnapps and the wine hadn’t been her best idea. She’d thrown Gold down on her bed and seduced him in her parents’ house, then she’d embarrassed him by having a tantrum at the table.

She’d told Erskine she loved him, and now he held her heart. Would he leave now, after enduring a main course of flagrant insults served with a side of backhanded compliments? She wouldn’t blame him for walking out the door and never looking back. She felt her heart crack inside her chest, the inevitability of disaster looming before her. She clenched her fists, her blunt nails digging into the flesh of her palms.

“Allow me to apologize for Belle.” Edith’s restrained voice filtered through the wall, and Belle wanted to punch the drywall. “She’s…families tend to have these little arguments now and again. She’s a passionate, spirited girl. I’m sure you understand. It’s nothing to be concerned about.”

From the other side of the wall, she rolled her eyes and stuck her tongue out at Edith.

“When it comes to Belle, I am in every possible way concerned,” Gold replied, the fury in his voice mounting. “I don’t know what sort of witchcraft you’ve employed to keep that glorious creature here under your roof. She’s desperate for affection and attention, and I’ve just spent an interminable hour listening to you cut her—and me—down in every possible way. I’m sick to my stomach, and it’s not from the overcooked pork or limp salad.”

“Mr. Gold—”

Belle peeked into the dining room in time to see Gold shift toward her father, his tone softening in appeal. “My God, do you even see her? She is brilliant and beautiful, full of life and light. All she wants to do is please you, to be enough." His voice grew deeper, rougher. "I don’t know why she even bothers, but she’s too incredible a person not to try.”

Dumbstruck, Belle ducked back into the hallway and leaned against the cool wall, wishing she could see the look on Edith and Daddy’s faces.

Gold continued, low and lethal, and Belle rose on tiptoe as if to better hear his next words. “If you want to offer apologies, Mrs. French, offer them on behalf of yourself and offer them to your daughter. We’re done here.”

Belle heard the scrape of a chair, then her eyes widened as Gold stumbled around the corner into the hallway, his face white and his lips twitching, eyes desperate and tear-filled. Wordlessly, she held out her arms to him and he collapsed against her, taking great, shuddering gulps of air.

“Shhh, deep breaths.” She held his trembling body as he struggled for oxygen, absorbing his shaking with her own tremors. She rubbed her hands in soothing circles across his back, then smoothed her fingers up and down his arms in gentle strokes. Her voice quavered as she spoke, grounding him, bringing him back to her. “Long breaths from deep down…I’ve got you, baby.”

“I’m sorry,” she heard him whisper between broken gasps. He raised his head from her shoulder, and she swiped tears from his pale, cool cheeks. “Belle, I’m so sorry.”

Hot tears dripped down her own face unchecked, the salt stinging her mouth. She hadn’t known she was crying, but after all the beautiful words he’d said about her, the way he defended her to Edith, how could she help it? “You have nothing to be sorry about, Erskine. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Oh, Belle. My beautiful, brave sweetheart.” He framed her face with his hands and kissed her, murmuring endearments against her lips. “How can you be so strong and courageous in the middle of all this madness?”

“Don’t you see?” She smiled at him through her tears. “It’s because I have you.”

###

Notes: Thanks @sarashouldbestudying for this potato pie. Belle’s dress is here.

#rumbelle #rumbelle fic #all of me #chubby belle #chubby!belle #Belle x Mr. Gold #Henry Mills #Emma Swan #MQC writes

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