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fernandopiastri28 · 3 days

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high for this ~ oscar piastri

Notes:

i am officially finished with holidays and back to school :/ so im going to be posting a lot less but i do have a few works just rotting in my drafts so i'll probably just be changing the names of characters and posting them. (not proof read so i apologise if there's any mistakes)

warnings: smut, weed, drug use, mdni

Oscar mindlessly lays sprawled out on his bed, his muscles aching from the gym earlier in the day. He tenderly rubs his hamstring, trying to nurse it back to not being too sore for his match tomorrow.

He has some music playing as quietly as possible, a pulsing tune of some heavy rap. It’s not really to his taste, but he’s bored with his own playlists at the moment. His phone is near the foot of his outstretched left leg, while his right leg is tucked up towards his torso, his knee pointing high towards the ceiling. Both hands are hard at work around his right leg, his fingers pressing into the tough flesh.

He feels a buzz travel through his left foot as his nails dig into his skin. He makes a note to cut them. He hears the buzz too, this time over the sound of the music. He sits up awkwardly, wincing at the strain on his leg. Using his left hand, he picks up his phone and checks the two new messages he’s received.

It’s Talia, unsurprisingly. She should be asleep, though, she promised him she’d start working on fixing her sleep schedule. He clicks the notifications, squinting to see the messages with the medical white lights flashing in his eyes in comparison to the darkened room.

tals🧡: you up?

tals🧡: do u wanna come over

Oscar shifts around in his bed so his back is pressed against a stack of pillows. He brings his hand away from his hamstring, ignoring the dull shoot of pain that runs up his leg once it loses his attention.

They don’t do a lot of sneaking over to each other's houses, simply because they can see enough of one another during school days, so it isn’t anything essential. They get in all the kissing, cuddling, and make outs they want to during the day, so if she’s suggesting this, it means sex.

Not necessarily just sex, anything within the umbrella of sexual activity. Oscar shifts his hips, trying to decide what he wants to do. They live pretty far from each other, meaning for him to sneak over, it's a 25-minute walk each way since he can’t just take the family car. It’s late—nearing midnight—and he’s sore. On the other hand, he’s horny.

And at Talia’s house, she doesn’t live with her parents. She lives with two of her close friends, skipped out on the college experience after her first year. Oscar didn’t get that luxury, much like his older sisters. Both of them lived at home for uni. But while she’s off now in France, he’s still a third year university student. Since her family won’t even be there, they don’t have to worry about being sneaky or quiet.

Oscar: Yeah. See you soon

He unplugs his phone and slips his feet into the pair of slides that are sitting at the foot of his bed. He opens his wardrobe, grazing his fingers over the line up of shirts that rest there. He grabs a graphic white t-shirt, wrestling it on. He cracks open his door, walking past his sister’s and the guest room, both vacant. His parents are on the level upstairs, so they can’t hear any disturbance he’s making.

He settles for catching the bus instead, unwilling to walk up to an hour. He sits down in a row of empty seats, ducking his head down and popping an earbud in. There’s a scarce number of other people on the bus, two girls sitting close together, their heads spinning drunkenly. An old man, greying hair and a newspaper in his callused hands.

tals🧡: come thru window. sammy will bark otherwise.

Oscar replies with the hard thought out reply of a thumbs up before re-pocketing his phone, staring mindlessly out of the window at the dark surroundings that whip by.

Oscar gets off at his stop 10 minutes later, and he’s the last person on the bus by that point. He approaches Talia’s house, not even bothering to go through the front door- Sammy would bark and wake the whole house up. He clicks open the gate, dragging it out only just enough to slip in. He walks across the side of the house, tapping on her bedroom window once he gets to it. He presses a hand to his pocket, making sure the pack of condoms he grabbed are still there.

The curtains swish open and Talia’s standing there, fiddling to get the window open. Once it's open, he feels a rush of cold air hitting him, accompanied by the smell of something almost like diesel. “Hey,” He grins as she leans down.

She narrowly avoids the kiss he’s going for, giving him one on the corner of his mouth. “Sorry- god, it’s dark,” Her shadow rubs her eyes, reaching out a hand to help him in.

Climbing in through the window isn’t a difficult task- just slightly uncomfortable. His crotch rubs against the window pane as he brings his second leg over into her room. Talia wraps her arms around his waist as soon as he’s inside. “Hi, Oscccc,” She looks up at him, her teeth gleaming white.

Just as Oscar is about to reply, the petrol smell hits him even harder. He crinkles his nose, confused as to what it is. “Tals, what the hell have you been smoking in here?,” He laughs, his hands grabbing at her ass to get her to wrap her legs around his waist. His voice is thick with sarcasm, Talia is the furthest thing from a druggy possible.

“Weed,” She rubs her lips into his shoulder, mouthing at the fabric of her shirt. Her mouth is dry, barely wetting the cloth. Oscar’s eyebrows knit, tensing in confusion. “Got a joint, was bored,” She mumbles.

He doesn’t believe what he’s hearing. At the same time, it’s late- his mind is cloudy anyways. He looks past her, at her bed where there’s a metal tin and a joint laying on top of it. Explains the smell then. “Fuck Talia,” He lets out a deep breath, “Maddie and Amber can definitely smell it,” He groans.

Talia laughs, her voice thick and loopy. “Nah, they cleared out tonight so I could do this.” She pulls away from the embrace, tugging him after her by his shirt. She falls back against the bed, her eyes clearly red rimmed from the dim lighting over her bed. “Cmonnn Opie, wanna get stoned with you,”

It’s so strange to see her like this, but he’d be lying if he said it wasn’t hot. It’s so unexpected, such a pleasant surprise from his usually wound up and rule following girlfriend. Oscar’s resistance weakens, the sight of her laying there- a goofy grin plastered across her voice is enough to make the strong man give in.

He hovers over her on the bed, a knee on either side of her hips and a hand on either side of her head. “You’re insane,” His mouth meets red, puffy lips for a kiss. She’s hungry for it, bringing her hands up to his hair to tug him down.

“More,” Talia begs, her voice breathy. Her pupils are huge and there's a spacey look in her eyes. Oscar teases her, shaking his head as he slightly resists kissing her any further than little pecks.

“I want a drag,” He whispers, reaching over her to where the blunt is precariously resting. He places it in between his lips, the bitter taste already seeping into his mouth. “Light it up,” He murmurs around the lump in his mouth.

Her mouth and ears feel as if they’ve been packed with cotton, his voice is far away and just barely a noise. “You don’t know how to,” She giggles weakly, her fingers pinching the fabric of his shirt that hangs down onto her.

Oscar gets off of her, sitting against the head of her bed. His legs are spread, his body slumped down comfortably. “Teach me,” He pats the space in front of his lap, his eyes looking up through his lashes. Talia’s mind is foggy with weed, lust, and need. She’s willing to do anything.

“Take this,” she pushes a plastic water bottle into one of his hands, already unscrewed and partially drunk. “You’re gonna cough a lot- the water will help with that,” she explains, leaning forward with her hands propped up on his quads, pushing the hem of his shorts higher up.

She reaches over to where the bottle had been and her fingers feel numb as they wrap around the lighter. “You feel good?” She asks as he twists the joint around between his lips. He doesn’t quite know how to answer, it feels like a question for after he’s actually smoked it. He nods regardless, tensing his leg muscles under her hands.

“I’m gonna light it, okay?” Another question from her. Her voice is becoming harder to understand, the true effects of the weed settling into her. It’s bizarre to him, this whole situation. “And you just try to inhale as much as possible,” She waits for a nod of competency from him before continuing. “Don’t let it just rest in your throat- it’ll burn. If you can’t do a lot, just do it in small bits,”

Oscar’s hand snakes behind her, resting on the small of her back. “Ready,” He mumbles awkwardly. She clicks down on the lighter and a flame flickers, wavering just below his nose.

“Don’t stress it,” She can see how his eyebrows are still furrowed and his nails are digging into the fabric of her shirt. It’s almost euphoric at first, then it’s hell. Heat fills his mouth and he’s coughing and wheezing. He did exhale- probably too much.

He feels Talia’s hands all over him, her coldness contrasting against the warmth throbbing through himself. She takes the spliff from his mouth, sucking down on it herself. Oscar watches her hazily, his bottom lip tucked under teeth.

“How long have you been doin’ this?” The words feel as if they’re not coming from him. Jesus, surely he’s not baked already. He feels the heavy weight of the joint being pushed between his lips again, his question seemingly going unanswered.

He takes it, breathing it in again. He doesn’t let it rest in his throat, he focuses on the inhale. He doesn’t cough as much this time, but he still guzzles down what’s left in the bottle.

They spend a few minutes alternating the spliff, blowing air into eachothers faces. The room reeks of weed and it’s boiling hot. He wipes the back of his neck with his hand, a line of sweat gathering there. She twists the hem of his shirt between her index and thumb, pulling it up slightly. She doesn’t need to ask- he takes it off for her.

“I started when I first moved here,” She finally answers his question from earlier, dragging a thumb down his cheek, rubbing the back of his jawline. “I think one of Mads’ friends gave her a bunch because she was moving- couldn’t take ‘em. Us three smoked them one night, it was fun,” She mumbles. It means she’s only been doing it for about 3 years now.

He tilts his head, resting it against a pillow. She presses the pad of her thumb into his bottom lip that he’s unconsciously pouting out- asking for either another drag or a kiss. “Wanted to introduce you,” Her lips turn into a smirk, her eyes half-lidded.

“And why’s that?” He teases, his other hand moving down to her ass. Talia looks to the side behind him, a knowing look on her face. She pulls herself into his lap, effectively straddling him.

“I wanted to get high,” She states plainly, “and when I’m high- I’m horny. Wanted to be like that with you,” Her eyes are bright and her cheeky are rosy. Oscar kisses her cheek, experimenting with how his mouth is getting drier and more uncomfortable. Once he feels some moisture returning, he kisses further along her jaw.

She has the spliff in her mouth which forces him away from her mouth. He focuses on her jaw and neck, suckling near her collarbone. She moans, tugging his hair and effectively his head back up. She places the joint in his mouth again and pulls on the pillow behind him. He tilts his head enough for her to move it out of the way, leaving him laying down almost completely flat.

He watches dazily as she pulls her top off, leaving her in a lacy white bra. He reaches out, his fingers barely feeling her flesh. He knows he’s touching her, she’s making noises to confirm it. “ More , more , fuck ,” She’s begging, her voice so desperate. Oscar wishes he wasn’t so fucking spacey right now so he could see how wanton she was over him.

He tips his head forward, looking past where smoke is burning into his eyes. He’s apparently not just touching her bra, he’s touching her fully exposed breast. He hasn’t realised up until this point that he’s actually hard.

“Can I shotgun you?” She asks, her fingers snaking over his nipples. He whimpers at the touch and his mouth drops open around the blunt. He knows he’s out of it, but he’s consciously thinking enough to know that shotgunning is either claiming the front seat in a car, or piercing a beer can and then drinking it as fast as possible.

He settles with the assumption it must be the second one. He lols his head to the side, searching for where the beer is. “Yeah,” He hums, his hand dropping down over the edge of the bed and his hand swinging with the intention of hitting a can that isn’t actually there.

Talia laughs, tugging on his bicep. “Shotgun- I puff smoke into your mouth,” She explains, her voice all raspy from being so dry. Oscar licks over his teeth, his mouth still painfully dry. His mind feels empty, the only resounding thought is just talia, talia, talia. There are a few other ideas, sex stuff, nothing coming close to being as important as making her happy.

She leans forward, plucking the joint from his mouth. He gets a breath of fresh air and begins to gasp for it- a telltale sign he’s had too much in one go. He hollows his cheeks, cleaning the taste of smoke out of his mouth with spit. It’s a useless attempt as it’s already well stained.

She slides two fingers into his mouth, pressing down on his bottom teeth. She lays down on him, her legs still hooked around his hips and a hand pressing to the headboard above him. Their chests are pressing together, her boobs heavy on him. He stares at them, shamelessly, his cock getting even harder to the point he’s beginning to actually feel it.

“Can you suck my cock?” His voice is strangled and on the verge of incoherency because of her digits pressing into his tongue. She nods, kissing the tip of his nose. Her other hand is still holding onto the spliff, just sliding it against her wettened bottom lip. She finally sucks down on it, her lips twisting around it to keep the smoke in.

His mouth opens out of instinct, his eyes going bright just thinking about her mouth. The second their lips meet and he feels a slow release of smoke into his mouth, he feels like he’s dying. His eyes roll back and he grips a hand to the back of her head, pushing their mouths into each other’s harder.

He’s kissing her like it’s the only thing keeping him alive. It’s disgustingly dirty, a combination of spit, teeth, tongues and far too much moaning. Being stoned apparently just makes him feel everything . His lips are on fire, his throat is on fire, his eyes are on fire, his dick is on fire.

Their mouths pull apart, sticky from the remnants of lip gloss that Talia has on. He peppers her face with a few more kisses, desperate for the stinging burn. They look at each other for a few moments, a complete disconnect from the two of them and the rest of the world.

“You still want it?” She’s semi sitting up now, her elbows resting on where his hips are poking out from his low sitting shorts. His mind goes blank at the question, unsure of what she could possibly asking.

“What?” He lets out a puff of air, his hand mindlessly travelling through her hair. She nudges low down on his abdomen with her nose, making a weird squeaking whine.

“Suck you off,” She looks up at him, the green in her eyes barely just a thin ring around her blown up pupils. Oscar nods, shifting further down the bed. Her fingers hook into his waistband, an invitation. His eyes flicker shut, already wasted off the feeling of her hands tugging his shorts down.

Cold air whacks into the tops of his thighs, the dark fluffs of hair standing up. Oscar doesn’t need to tell her what to do, it seems like every time she’s gotten baked before this has been spent with her preparing for this.

Talia begins aimlessly mouthing at his crotch, licking and kissing over where the head is resting. Her mouth is wetter than his, seemingly soaked with saliva. He takes a drag from the blunt, his fingers retracting and stretching to scratch her head. She purrs at the motion, getting more eager around him.

“Cmon princess,” Oscar murmurs, helping to slide his boxers down to mid thigh. He doesn’t wince or shiver when it meets the cold air as there’s barely any time for it to do so. The second he’s fully undressed, her warm mouth is engulfing his length.

She bobs her head up and down, her lips tightening around his shaft and her cheeks hollowing for him. He’s pushing her head down without realising, the pressure is light but definitely suggestive.

She doesn’t gag, just takes him further. He encourages her with a string of moans mindlessly escaping his mouth, mixed in with ‘ oh god, good girl’ and ‘that's perfect, princess, keep going’. He’ll smoke or eat edibles every weekend if this is how getting head feels like when he does.

Her nose presses into his crotch, her throat muscles working hard to accommodate the intrusion of him. He tries to touch her, help her get off while she’s giving him the blowjob he’s ever received but the way she’s lying with the rest of her body so far away, he settles for focusing the pleasure elsewhere.

He rubs his thumbs over her nipples, feeling them harden under his touch. She whimpers and whines, her moans choking into noises that sound like she’s crying. Her face is reddened and her hair is sweaty, her fringe plastered down to her forehead with sweat.

“Close, I’m close,” He twists some of her hair around his index, his middle finger tapping into the top of her hair. She looks up at him with glassy eyes and tensed eyebrows.

“In me,” She gags around his length. She doesn’t need to ask twice. He fucks his hips up into her mouth, forcing a moan and a gag from the back of her throat as he releases into her.

He feels spent, his body aching worse than it did back at home.

She pulls off slowly, her lips oiled with spit and cum. Her neck muscles flicker with tension as she swallows it down. That’s new. She’s strictly been a ‘spitter’ to this very moment. He wipes a drop of cum off her lip and kisses her deep. He tastes himself in her mouth but there's hardly any recognition for it. He doesn’t care enough to be disgusted about it, nothing about kissing her is disgusting.

“You’re perfect,” He slips his tongue into her mouth, tugging her up to be laying on top of him. “Wanna make you feel good,” He moves his head, kissing down her neck.

Talia lets out a noise of confirmation, “please,” she whines burying her fingers against his scalp. From the awkward angle he’s at, he slips her pants down past her ass, her underwear at the same time.

He rubs a finger over her wet hole, teasing it. She lets out a stifled whimper, burying her face further into Oscar’s chest. He slides the finger in slowly, watching the bits of her face that he can see intently. She’s shying away, forcing her face away from his view.

“You’re all shy now?” He teases, massaging one of her breasts with his palm. She doesn’t reply, just keens on him, desperate for more. He pushes his finger fully in, sliding it in and out. “Look at me, pretty,” He kisses her forehead, nudging the spot with his nose.

She reluctantly looks up before snuggling into his neck. It’s a drastic difference from how she was only minutes earlier. He pushes a second finger in, knowing her all too well that she’s needy for it. She groans, scraping her teeth down along his shoulder.

He groans, throwing his head back. He knows what he’s doing, not needing to even look. He pushes in and out, deeper and just as controlled. Her walls tighten around him, her wetness slicking down over his palm and around his wrist. His thumb joins in, rubbing along her clit.

“Oz,” it comes out all jagged and breathy. “Fuck- need to,” She can’t finish her sentences at this point, pushed so close to the edge. He gives her a whisper of allowance, his breath hot against her ear.

“Come for me,” He instructs her, his thumb applying more pressure as he feels a gush of wetness spill down his occupied hand. She’s gasping, panting for air when it happens. His body is still trying to regain full senses from the weed, barely noticing how deep her nails are digging into his sides, leaving red crescent moons into his skin.

Once she’s come down from her high, Talia rolls onto the space next to him on the bed. They watch each other, laying on their sides as they share the joint. They puff smoke at each other, laughing over absolutely nothing.

“You’re staying tonight?” Whether it's a statement or a question is unsure, just how she intended. Oscar cranes his head to where he can see the sun is peeking out and beginning to set.

“Yeah, I’ll stay right here,” He hums as the two of them both nod off to a hazy, stoned induced sleep.

#formula 1 #formula one #f1 #f1 x reader #oscar piastri #oscar piastri smut #oscar piastri x original character

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wintervalewritersecond · 1 year

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siren song - xavier thorpe

requested: yes! requests: open! Hii! I was wondering if you could please a do an Xavier x f!Reader where maybe they are like best friends but she likes him and he doesn’t realize and he starts hanging around Wednesday more. the reader starts to feel neglected so she basically asks bianca to use her siren powers to make her forget Xavier, bianca is hesitant but she does it and Xavier finds out and it’s really angsty cause like his best friend doesn’t remember him? up to you if the spell can be reversed and if they have a happy ending or not! Thank you sm in advanced :)

A/N: you will not BELIEVE!! how excited i am for this request! im planning on turning it into multiple parts, so we will see how it works out <;33

wordcount: 5,359 warnings: me not knowing anything abt school systems, she/her reader, a small bit of angst, xavier abandoning reader, reader has telekinesis, lots of smaller scenes that are similar to the ones in the show, asking bianca to manipulate you, few curse words part 2

You have been best friends with Xavier for the longest time and you were convinced he shared romantic feelings for you as well. But, when he starts to become head over heels for the new girl and ignores you at the Rave'n, you can only think of one solution. Bianca's Siren Song.

The first half of the semester had passed already, as you were now finally on your break. One week to do anything you wanted which meant you could go back home, but this time, you decided to stay at Nevermore. Xavier mentioned that he wouldn't be going anywhere anyway; his father didn't care if he came by, and to spare himself the trouble, he would just stay at Nevermore and close to his art studio.

So, considering you are his best friend, you decide to also stay. Surely not because you have feelings for him. Though, that might also have weighed in as you made your decision to stay.

"Finally!"

Xavier lets himself fall down on your bed. Yoko had left for the week, leaving you all alone in the big room. You hated being alone for too long, so you invited Xavier over. He was one of the only people that would stay at Nevermore anyway.

"If I had to listen to any more talking about plants, I would have set the classroom on fire," he mumbles as his face is planted in your pillow, making it hard for you to hear what he is talking about.

You let out a laugh before dropping your bag next to the bed. After three hours of Botany, you could also take a break from the subject.

"Hm," you nod, sitting down next to his legs. "Are you down for a trip to Jericho? We can get some drinks and snacks, movie night?"

Xavier immediately looks up, nodding his head before rolling off the bed. It was a 25-minute walk, but the sun was shining and it wasn't too cold, so it wouldn't be that bad.

After two hours you are finally back in your dorm. The shopping had taken a bit longer as both you and Xavier had forgotten to change out of your Nevermore uniforms, resulting in some nasty glares and bad comments from the townspeople.

"Weren't those freaks supposed to be going home?" You look back at the voice, seeing a small group of guys around your age huddled together, snickering and laughing at you and Xavier. The tall boy pulls your arm, trying to get you away from the group. "Come on, they're just assholes. No need to make a fuss," he whispers in your ear. With a deep breath you turn around, but not before making the can in one of the guys' hands fly to the ground as it explodes on impact, soaking the group in the sticky soda. You let out a chuckle before following Xavier back to Nevermore.

After getting some dinner in the Quad, you race upstairs again. Normally, there are no guys allowed in Ophelia Hall, so you had to sneak Xavier in. Luckily you had done that many times before already, and if you were extra lucky, Thornhill would let you go without any hassle.

Your desk gets filled with all the snacks that the two of you had gotten in Jericho. There is so much, that you wouldn't be surprised if it lasted more than only a week.

"All right, so do you vote for an animated movie, action, romance, horror?"

Xavier was busy picking out a movie as you transformed your bed into some type of 'movie watching paradise'. It is filled with enough blankets and pillows to be a bird's nest, but at least it is comfortable and warm. Once the movie is chosen, Xavier scoots in next to you. The bed is meant for only one person, so it was a tight fit, but neither of you acknowledged it. If anything, it made your heart race faster as your cheeks felt warmer. You have had feelings for Xavier for a while now, never knowing if he returned them, though he has never proven that he didn't.

And that is how the week flew by.

Hanging out in either your or his dorm and sometimes even in the art studio. You weren't the best artist, but you would just sit and watch him paint, handing over some drinks and snacks during the day as you worked on your own thing. Then, at night, you would watch a movie or listen to music before dozing off.

Slowly, all the Nevermore students start coming back, and the dorms fill up again. Yoko had also come back, so you stopped sneaking Xavier in for a bit. Not that Yoko really cared, but you thought that she would maybe want to enjoy the room by herself for a bit before you invited him in.

"Oh my God, Y/N! I haven't seen you in so long," Enid squeals, wrapping her arms around you as you finally joined your group in the Quad. "You will never guess what news I have!"

"What is it?"

"I'm getting a roommate!" She cheers. "I have been alone this entire semester, but Thornhill told me that on Monday, I will finally get a roomie!"

Ajax winces, a distraught look on his face.

"You're forgetting the part where she ate her classmate."

Enid rolls her eyes, shaking her head.

"It wouldn't be the weirdest thing at Nevermore. though it is kinda weird... Anyway, it's only a rumor."

You look at Xavier and he only shrugs, a smirk on his face as the two of you look at the bickering between Ajax and Enid. It is only a matter of waiting to see if there will be an actual cannibal in your school or not.

That evening, Xavier invited you to the Nightshade Library to chill there. 'A quiet moment before the shit show starts again,' he had said, and you couldn't agree more. Not to mention that there was only a small group of people who knew how to get into the library.

"Do you think the new girl is actually a cannibal?"

Xavier bursts out laughing before spinning the pencil in his hand.

"I would surely hope not. You know Enid, when she hears a rumor, she writes about it."

That was true. You don't know how she did it, but Enid always knew what was going on in Jericho and at Nevermore. How? No idea. You look up at the pencil that levitates in the air. You had stolen it out of Xavier's bag, mindlessly controlling it as you talked to him about all sorts of things.

"That's true. I'm sure Enid's blog will be full of new gossip in a few days."

"Her mother used to do fencing," Enid mumbles, her mouth full of food. "She killed two kids, not one! She said she didn't keep count, but I don't know if that is true. I feel like she will fit in though."

Ajax looks at her with a horrified look on his face. How does she say that and be so calm about it? He had been face-to-face with the new girl when Enid did a whole tour around the school.

A laugh escapes your lips when you see his expression as you almost spit out your drink. You love how exaggerated the Gorgon is sometimes.

"She also insulted my side of the room! She apparently is allergic to color or something, it's insane. Y/N, does my room look like rainbow vomit?"

You look from Xavier to her, hesitating for a moment before shaking your head. Her room is extremely colorful, but you wouldn't bring it as rude as the new girl.

"No, not at all. I find your room very comforting, actually."

Enid lets out a relieved sigh. She knew it!

You stand opposite of Xavier, your blade in your hand as you are dressed in the white fencing suit. Xavier and you always trained together. You both knew each other so well that the moves were quite predictable, but that is also what made it more difficult.

When you hear another pair of footsteps nearing, you look up. A girl, around your height, enters the room. Also dressed in fencing attire, though hers are dyed as dark as a shadow. You take off your cap, looking at her in confusion before averting your gaze to Xavier. He had also taken off his mask as he looks at the new person.

"Coach! She tripped me!"

"It was a clean strike, Rowan," Coach almost sighs. This has been the fourth time he tried to go up against Bianca, but he never made it.

"Maybe practice some more. I'm sure you will get it," she smirks. "Try again next time, Laslow. Seriously, Coach. When am I going to get some real competition?"

Bianca might be the queen of Nevermore, but she is also the queen in fencing. No one can beat her and it is something she is quite proud of. You never hung out with her a lot, but she is always sweet to you.

"Anyone else want to challenge me?"

You were almost up to it as you had never gone against her before, but the newbie beats you to it.

"I do."

Bianca turns around to face the new girl, a surprised yet amused look on her face.

"Oh!" She exclaims. "You must be the psychopath they let in."

"And you must be the self-appointed Queen Bee," the other girl says, her face clear of any emotion.

"No need to start throwing around names," Bianca raises an eyebrow. "Rowan doesn't need anyone to come to his defense. He's not helpless, just lazy."

"Are we doing this or not?"

Two rounds pass between the girls fencing as they both have one point. You elbow Xavier to try and tell him something, but see that his gaze is fixated on the girl in the black suit. You breathe in deeply before just looking back at the fight.

No masks or tips? Is she insane?

Even though Wednesday is the one to propose the idea, Bianca still scratches her first, a bloody mark apparent on the forehead of her opponent. Another day where Bianca is left as the top in the class.

"I'm sorry I'm late," Xavier huffs, his hair still damp. "I uh- I was stuck in the infirmary."

You were annoyed, but now also worried.

"What? Are you alright? You're not hurt, are you?"

"Oh, no! No, you know those gargoyle statues on the roofs? One fell down, almost hitting Wednesday. I pushed her out of the way and then had to bring her to the infirmary. She wasn't even happy with it, she was almost upset about the fact she didn't die."

"What a hero," you joke, a smile on your face as you also feel a pang in your chest.

You don't want to be that person, Xavier is free to spend time with anyone you wish. Maybe it is just your insecurity. But, he is here now. With you.

While Xavier was working on the mural, you just sat with him, handing him a new paintbrush or filling up his paint palette whenever he needed it. When hanging out with him, you never really needed to do something crazy each and every time. You could sit next to him in silence and it would still be considered a good time for you.

"Do you hear that?"

You hum, looking up from your phone. In the distance, you can hear a cello. The source seems to be from Enid's dorm. Or, shared dorm now. Enid couldn't play the cello, so it must be Wednesday.

"Beautiful."

It was time for the Harvest Festival, something you looked forward to for a while. There would be games, food, and music, and you would be spending it with some of your friends.

The field was already filled with groups of people excited for a night of fun. Jericho wasn't necessarily the place to be when it comes to entertainment, so the Harvest Festival was one of the biggest things every year. You walked in with Enid, Wednesday, Xavier, and Ajax as Weems walked right behind you. The lady was intimidating, but you knew that she wasn't there for you.

The principal had sat down on a bench, keeping a close eye on Wednesday as you walked a bit further with your own group.

"Where did Wednesday go?"

Xavier looks around, but the pig-tailed girl is nowhere to be seen. You shrug, the girl seems to be very quiet, so you didn't hear her sneak off either.

"I'll be right back, I will look for her real quick."

Before anyone can reply, Xavier walks off, trying to find the new girl. You look at Enid for a moment before shrugging yet again, continuing on with your adventure at the festival. You could try out some new food maybe, though the hotdogs were always good as well. After spending tons of money on food and drinks, you sat down at a picnic table, Kent and Yoko joining the group as well. After a few minutes, Xavier comes back, sitting down next to you with a huff. You push your popcorn a bit closer to you as he mutters a 'thank you' before stuffing some in his mouth.

"What got you so upset?" Ajax looks at his best friend, sauce stuck on the corners of his mouth.

"Just some normie," Xavier responds shortly, sipping your milkshake before placing it back in front of you.

"If anyone needs to be thrown against a wall, you know who to call," you just grin.

Telekinesis is, in your opinion, one of the most useful powers that you can have. Be it something big like moving a car, to something small like turning off a light when you are just getting comfortable in your bed.

Xavier just stays quiet which makes you stop talking about the subject. Whatever it was, it must have really annoyed or hurt him.

"Xav?" You knock on the wooden door. "Xavier, are you okay?"

You had just heard about Rowan being expelled from Nevermore, though the reason was unknown. Not even Enid knew why the boy got kicked out.

After some shuffling, the door opens. Dressed in a red shirt and grey sweats he awkwardly looks at you.

"You uh- You can come in. There is no one else here anyway," he mumbles, a slight smile on his face.

When he turns around to walk to his bed, you notice some bruises on his arms.

"You okay?"

He only nods before laying down on his bed, patting the place next to him. With a smile you sit down as well, running your fingers over the blue-ish patches on his skin.

"Rowan went a bit crazy," he only whispers. "No need to worry. Movie?"

When you get into your Botany class, you see that your usual seat is already taken. Wednesday sits next to your best friend, sitting on the chair that almost had your name written on it. You breathe in deeply before walking to the back of the class, taking your place next to Bianca.

"What is going on between you two?"

"Nothing," you whisper back. "Xavier is just friendly."

"I doubt Wednesday is impressed by your tricks, mister Thorpe."

You look over at his desk as you see a big spider crawling out of his page, stopping in front of the girl.

"Admit it," he smirks. "You're a little impressed."

One smack was all it took to change the spider into dust, making it disappear into thin air.

"Xavier, sit still!"

The two of you are laughing as you almost sit on his lap, a brush in your right hand and face paint in your left. He insisted that he wouldn't be able to do the makeup for the Poe Cup himself and that you had to help him. You were almost finished, but Xavier got impatient as he moved around.

"Ta-da!"

You push him in front of the mirror before throwing his hat at him. When he puts it on he does some silly faces. The dark makeup around his eyes does really make the blue-green pop. Xavier catches you staring at him as you seem almost mesmerized by his look. He turns around with a smirk, looking down at you before charging at you, making you let out a scream before trying to escape his hands.

"Xavier! Come on, we have to get to our boats!"

You follow Ajax and Xavier outside, meeting up with the rest of the people that were excited about the Poe Cup. Four teams that will compete against each other, though you wouldn't be surprised if Bianca's team won again. Putting Sirens on water? There is simply no other way.

Every boat is painted inspired by an Edgar Allen Poe story, and they all looked amazing.

"Good luck," you whisper to Xavier before he gets into the boat.

"Oh, we will win," he winks before jumping onto his seat and pulling his jester hat down.

The boats take off after the gunshot, some faster than others. You wonder what type of sabotage this year would bring. After only a minute, the first boat crashes already.

All the boats are out of sight as you patiently wait. What is strange to you is that Wednesday participates. Enid even made Wednesday wear cat ears- though you are sure she absolutely despises them. Something about Yoko accidentally eating garlic and the pig-tailed girl taking her place.

From afar you can see a red, black, and yellow boat getting closer and closer to the shore, though the Jokers seem to be slowing down and even- sinking? Oh god, Xavier is not going to like this.

It almost seemed like Bianca would win again, but that is until the spikes go through the side of their boat, ripping holes into it as it slowly fills up with water.

The Black Cats had won, making Enid scream with happiness as she jumps up and down with the Cup in her hands. Oh, you will never hear the end of this. Ajax and Xavier are sitting at a table, both sulking while staring down at the piece of cake that they had gotten. They were so upset with their loss, that they couldn't even take a bite of it.

"You guys did amazing, I am sure that you will win the next cup!"

Xavier only huffs, pushing the cake around with the fork.

Both Xavier and Ajax are extremely competitive, so they took the loss extremely personally. But, you believe in them. You always do.

When Xavier had told you that Wednesday found his private art studio and asked him to the Rave'n, your heart broke a little. Somewhere in your mind, you had hope. Hope that he would ask you to the dance. But he seemed so happy. So happy that the girl that he admired asked him to the dance.

Since then, he barely talked to you. No more movie nights, the seat next to him was always taken by the deadpanned girl, and even during lunch, he would barely say anything. Texts would be left on seen and calls would be ignored.

The news of Xavier basically being dumped for the Rave'n should upset you. And in a way, it does. You knew that he admired Addams, but if she hadn't blown Xavier off, you wouldn't be here right now.

"She just totally messed it up. Sneaked into my studio just to accuse me of the most outrageous shit," Xavier scoffs, his hands running through his hair, almost pulling it out of his scalp.

"Hey," you lean closer to him, taking hold of his hands. "We can go to the Rave'n if you want? At least neither of us will be alone."

Your fingers slowly comb through his hair, taking out some small knots on the way. He only nods, staring down at the floor.

"Yeah. Yeah, that sounds like a plan."

Your outfit matches Xaviers perfectly. His suit was nice and crisp, decorated with a small black ribbon around his neck. You added a ribbon around your wrists and neck, almost acting as a necklace with matching bracelets. You hold onto his arm with a bright smile as the two of you walk through the Quad and towards the Rave'n.

"I'm so happy you got that stain out," Xavier laughs. "Remind me to never eat anything with ketchup when I wear something white."

"I tried to! But you insisted on it," you giggle, greeting Thornhill before entering the prom.

The room is decorated with bunches of white flowers, sparkles, lights, and what seems to be ice sculptures. It is truly a sight.

"Punch?"

"Have anything to spike it with?"

You let out a gasp before elbowing Xavier, shaking your head with a laugh.

"No, but we might be able to get something from Ajax later tonight."

Both of you take a cup of punch, smoke coming out of the cups. It looks kind of intimidating, but at least it tastes good.

You had sat down with Devina, Kent and Xavier, though Xavier is more quiet than usual.

"Are you okay?" You mumble, looking up at him. "Is it Wednesday?"

He turns his empty glass in his fingers, letting out a soft sigh. He doesn't want to be upset, but the feeling of being dumped like that still hurts him in a way.

"Yeah," a smile makes its way on his face. "I'm sorry. I do really like being here with you."

Your cheeks feel warm and your heart feels like it will explode, so you take his hand, softly squeezing it before nodding.

"If you want to leave, you can always tell me."

"Yo!" Ajax hurries over before he taps Xavier on his shoulder. "Check that out!"

Everyone looks over to where he is pointing at. Wednesday Addams. Her gown is black instead of the usual white and she is accompanied by some Normie. Huh, you would never have guessed that that was what she was into.

"Wednesday totally busted out of her cocoon."

It's true. The girl does really pull off the look, even though you never expected her to enjoy the Rave'n. But, to be totally fair, her face looks almost disgusted as she takes in the decorations. Your eyes fall on Xavier, who is back to having barely any emotion on his face as his eyes are just fixated on the Addams girl.

Without any warning, Xavier stands up, walking towards Wednesday as she pours some punch into two glasses. You try and ask him what he is doing, but decide to hold your tongue.

You were so excited that he finally talked to you again after ignoring you for Wednesday. He finally returned to his old self, but the second the darkly dressed girl stepped into the room, it is like you didn't exist anymore. Wednesday herself never did you any wrong, and that is why it makes you mad at yourself. How can you be so annoyed with a girl that has nothing done wrong?

You just wish you were her. You wish you could pull off her hairstyle, be deadpanned, and be intimidating while also being beautiful. But most of all, you wanted the attention that she got from Xavier.

"You okay?" Kent whispers, looking at you with his eyebrows creased.

He spent a lot of time with you while you were being ignored by your best friend, so he kind of knew what was going on. You only nod, averting your gaze down to your empty cup. Did you not mean anything to him? Come on, Y/N. Stop exaggerating, he can have other friends.

When you look back up you see that he is still talking to an uninterested Wednesday.

"I'll be right back," you mumble, picking up the hem of your dress before going through the exit.

The music here is quieter and the lights are dimmed. Even though you can hear the talking and dancing in the room right next to you, you still feel alone. Are you a bad friend for wanting Xavier's attention? Are you being too jealous? Or maybe you are just being too insecure.

You plop down on the couch, letting out a sigh as you stare at your shoes. Your heart wishes that this evening would have gone differently. You could go out and have fun with the rest, yet you sit here, sulking.

It doesn't take long to hear another pair of footsteps.

"Whoever invented high heels clearly had a side hustle as a torturer."

You look to the side, seeing Wednesday pull on her heels. You let out a chuckle, shrugging.

"Yeah, I wouldn't be surprised. You know what they say; suffering tests a woman."

"Speaking of suffering," the girl turns around, looking at you. "Where is your date? I didn't see you and Xavier on the dance floor. But I don't blame you, the music at this dance is appalling."

"We uh- I don't know. He walked off. Haven't seen him since he went up to you."

Wednesday hums, leaning back against the couch as well. If she had to dance one more time, she might start breaking her own legs.

"Wednesday? Can I ask you something?"

"You already are," she states.

You laugh awkwardly before you breathe in. Your hands are shaking, making you feel stupid for asking.

"How... How did you manage to get Xavier's attention?"

She raises an eyebrow, looking at your face. You don't dare to look at her, though. It was already embarrassing for you to ask this question, you don't want to see her judgemental stare.

"If I knew, then I would immediately stop it. He is annoying and only stands in my way," she mutters, rolling her eyes. "Why? You are his best friend, does he not pay attention to you?"

"I wish he did a little more."

A sad smile on your face before you push yourself up, stretching your legs. Wednesday can't help it.

"Well," you nod, looking back at the Rave'n. "You look beautiful today, Wednesday."

As you walk off, you hear her respond.

"Xavier is an incredible idiot for not seeing how disgustingly in love you are."

This evokes a real laugh out of you. It is hard to absolutely hate the girl. But she is right. Then again, maybe you should have said something.

"Yo, yo, yo! Almost eleven o'clockity, so haul it out on the dance floor one last time before the Rave'n says Nevermore!"

Just as you enter, Kent pulls your arm, pulling you onto the floor for the last dance of the evening. You know what? Fuck it. Together with Enid and Kent, you do some weird moves, jumping and swinging your arms to the music.

You don't care anymore. You want to have fun with your friends, and though it would have been more fun with Xavier, you have to accept that he just... Doesn't feel the same.

You look up confused when you feel splatters on your face. Did the sprinklers go off? When you look at Kent, you see that red liquid is dripping down on his face.

"Kent? Are you hurt?"

Before he can answer, the sprinklers turn on fully, coating everything in a layer of red liquid. Is this blood? You look down at your dress and hands which are now stained. What kind of prank is this? People start screaming, trying to hurry out of the room, making you pick up your pace as well. The floor is extremely slippery as you almost fall over multiple times. Where is everyone? Where is Xavier?

As you reach the exit, you see Xavier and Tyler bumping into each other.

"What the hell are you doing, man?!"

"I'm just texting my dad," Tyler looks the guy up and down. "He's on his way. Have- Have you seen Wednesday? I lost her."

"How should I know," Xavier sneers, turning back around to leave already. "She's your date."

"Xavier?"

He looks back at you once before walking off. You pause for a second, frozen in your place before you faintly hear Tyler asking if you're alright.

"I uh- Yeah. Sorry for Xavier."

After you finally washed all the paint out of your hair and off of your skin, you decide that you want to visit Xavier. He was definitely still not doing fine, and though he blew you off, you just had to make sure he was okay. After all, you were still his date today.

Dressed in your pajamas you sneak out of your room and towards the hall that Xavier stays in. He must have showered now as well. You hate to admit it, but even covered in the paint, he was still amazingly pretty.

"Xavier?" You whisper-yell, knocking on the door of his room. "Xav- Can you let me in, please? If Coach sees me here he will kill me."

The door swings open, revealing an annoyed boy hiding behind it. You sneak in quickly as the door closes behind you.

"What?" He asks, biting on his cheeks. He wanted to be alone, yet you are here now.

"I just wanted to see how you were doing," you shrug. "Seeing Tyler after he beat you up can't be too nice."

"I'm doing perfectly fine, thanks."

"Xavier, you and I both know-"

"Stop," he glares down at you. "There is no such thing as you and i."

His tone breaks your heart. What is he talking about?

"How would you feel if the person you like would show up to the Rave'n with some shit normie? Knowing you are stuck there with someone who isn't her?"

"Xavier! She left you for nothing," you scoff. "I have always been there for you. Always! When you broke up with Bianca, when you had to stay here because your father didn't come to pick you up, I invited you to sit with me during the Visiting Weekend-"

"Oh yeah!" He throws up his arms. "You are such a good person, Y/N."

So... sarcastic. Were you really that bad of a friend?

"And why do you even care that much? You are literally just exaggerating! You have been blowing up my phone for no reason knowing that I was busy!"

"Because I wanted my best friend back! You have been so obsessed with Wednesday-"

"So this is about Wednesday?" He scoffs, crossing his arms. "She has done nothing wrong to you! Never! You are just bitching and being mad because she is better than you. Is all of this literally because I like her? Is that why you're mad? Jealous?"

"What if I am?! What if I just want even an ounce of your attention? Wednesday doesn't even like you!"

"Don't," he leans closer to you, gritting his teeth. "Talk shit about her. Leave."

He points to the door.

"Leave!"

The tears that had piled up in your eyes started rolling down your cheeks. Never did the boy talk to you like this, not once in the few years that you have been befriended.

You walk out the door, not one more word said to him as the door gets thrown shut behind you. If only you could find a way to forget about him. Maybe it would have been better if you never met him at all. You knew that you would never be like Wednesday, but were you not good enough?

What if you tried some type of spell or brainwashing? Surely someone in Nevermore has some type of way to make you forget. Even only a small amount of weed from Ajax would help. What if you make Wednesday torture you until you forget? God, you wish you could just say the word and forget-

A word to forget.

Bianca.

You hurry towards the room belonging to the Siren. She knows how you feel. She must help you. You will do anything for her to help you.

"Bianca!" You knock on her door, breathing in shakily as stray tears fall down your cheeks. "Bianca, please."

The door opens slowly, revealing a confused Bianca. A towel is resting on her shoulders and she is also already dressed in her sleepwear.

"Please," you sniff. "Use your Siren Song. Make me forget Xavier. Please."

#xavier thorpe #xavier thorpe imagine #xavier thorpe x reader #xavier thorpe oneshot #wednesday imagine #wednesday one shot #wednesday netflix

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die-pink-maus · 4 months

Text

A Weekend in Vienna 🇦🇹

While vacationing in Germany, Chantelle’s (OC) best friend, Adrian (also an OC), books an impromptu trip to Vienna to visit extended family. Chantelle decides to join her for the last few days of her trip, where she meets an interesting friend of Adrian’s family who offers to show the two around the city for the weekend🤭

TW: Pretty much none, not for this chapter anyway, but things will get 🌶️spicy🌶️ in the next parts. Also there is an age gap between OC and König, she is 25 and he is about 36-37.

CW: FemOCs, female pronouns used, while both characters are technically OCs please feel free to imagine them however you’d like, ultimately the main character is the reader, I just didn’t want to use “Y/N” so I gave them names 🙈

Word Count: 1,516

*DISCLAIMER*

This is my first time EVER writing any kind of fan fiction so please go easy on me 😭 if you like where things are going, likes and reblogs would be greatly appreciated! If you’d like to see anything in particular in the next part or part(s), I’d love to hear it!

This version of König is based on the above interpretation drawn by @lettaniko (I hope you don’t mind me using it! I absolutely love this drawing it’s perfect! 🫶🏼)

I like a nice build up to the smut so if you like to get right into it this is probably not going to be for you…but if you can wait I it out I promise it’ll be worth it 😂

Enjoy! 💋

7:30am. There’s approximately 30 minutes before my train departs for Vienna, and I still haven’t reached the train station yet. I scrambled as I dashed out of my hotel room, hoping I’d left the place in a somewhat decent state and I hadn’t forgotten anything valuable as got into the elevator. I’ve been exploring Munich for the past two weeks and I’ve been having the absolute time of my life. Although traveling alone can be quite scary, oddly enough, I’ve never felt more at home. Munich is such a vibrant city, filled with all kinds of exciting things to do and I’ve met so many incredible people, it’s definitely been the experience of a lifetime. To say that I am not looking forward to going back home to Vancouver would be an understatement, but all good things must come to an end. I’d spent about a year and a half learning to speak German, and promised myself that I would plan a trip in celebration of achieving fluency, so here I am! Now, Vienna wasn’t initially on my list of places to visit when I decided to come to Germany, but my best friend, Adrian, ended up booking a spur of the moment flight last week to visit extended family in Austria and suggested I come hangout with her during the last few days of my trip. Seeing as its only a 3-4hr train ride from Munich, I figured why the hell not! I’ve heard Vienna is beautiful, and Im at all not opposed to exploring another city.

Upon arrival at the train station in Vienna I was greeted by Arian, excitedly jumping up and down while holding up a large white sign that read “Willkommen in Wien, Schlampe!” I rolled my eyes and shook my head, laughing as I got off the train and ran over to her, tackling her in a tight embrace as she laughed hysterically. “Did you have to let the whole station know that I’m a bitch or…?”

“Honestly, they should’ve known the moment they saw you.” She said jokingly. “How was the ride over?” She asked.

“Amazing, I haven’t slept that well in years. It also didn’t feel like a 4 hour train ride.”

“Trains in out here are quite quick so I wouldn’t be surprised if it somehow took less time. They definitely shit on the ones we have back home.”

“Oh for sure.” I agreed as we began walking over to the car.

“So a family friend of ours just came back from a mission in the states, he’s in the military bee tee dubs —“

“Yeah kinda pieced that together when you said ‘mission’.” I chuckled.

“I don’t drive out here so he’s gonna give us a ride back to my aunts, cool?”

“Sounds good.”

“He’s also a lot more familiar with Vienna than I am, so he offered to show us around a bit later on this evening.” Aw how nice of him. Knowing Adrian, the first place she’ll want to be taken to is the nearest bar, that girl can drink! If there’s one thing I’ve learned from my time in Germany, and my 10 years of friendship with Adrian, it’s that Europeans love their liquor. There are people from all parts of Europe in Germany and that’s one thing that remains quite consistent across the board. I also love my liquor, which is probably why I ended up fitting in so well.

We finally arrived at the car and opened the trunk to begin loading all of my luggage inside. I’d brought a small carryon suitcase, a duffle bag, as well as a large suitcase that was full of clothes I’d over packed from home, and a bunch of other clothes and souvenirs I’d bought in Munich. “Okay this one’s gonna be a tad heavy.” I warned as Adrian grabbed hold of the handle on the top. I reached forward to try to help her lift, but neither of us could manage the weight. “I got it.” His voice was low, but gentle. He had an accent, but it wasn’t overwhelming or harsh, nor did it make anything he said hard to understand. I wasn’t expecting to see the person I saw when I’d finally caught a glimpse of him…I don’t think I’ve ever seen a man like this in my entire life. Adrian and I stepped back as he grabbed hold of the suitcase, lifting it with absolute ease, as if it were light as a feather. His arm muscles bulged within the confines of his olive green long sleeved shirt as he tossed the suitcase inside the trunk. My heart began to race, It felt as if I was watching him move in slow motion. “Easy peasy.” He smirked as he turned around and looked down at me, his dazzling dark blue eyes awash with amusement at Adrian and I’s prior struggle. Jesus Christ…This man is an absolute unit. He’s gotta be at least 6 foot 7, if not taller. He’s incredibly easy on the eyes in a rough and rugged kinda way — a nice low trimmed beard, medium length dark brown hair, and a smile that is captivatingly dangerous to say the least. His presence alone exudes a confidence that causes me to grow weak in the knees. “I’m König,” he smiled knowingly as he stretched his hand out towards me. I know I’m definitely not the first woman to look at him the way I am. Even though I’m trying to keep my composure, it’s very clear that he can see right through it. “And you must be Chantelle?” He asked, eyes slowly roaming about my frame from head to toe. He bites his lip slightly as they return to my gaze, suggesting so much without saying any words at all. “I — yes.” I blushed, sheepishly brushing my hair behind my ear as I shook his hand. “Nice to meet you.” He said. “Oh yeah, König Chantelle, Chantelle König.” Adrian yelled from the backseat. He laughed and shook his head as he closed the trunk.

We arrived at Adrian’s aunts house about 45 minutes later. König helped us load all of my things into the foyer before letting us know he’d be coming back in a few hours to take us out to this bar that he and a few of his buddies on his task force frequent whenever they’re home. I’ve been thinking about him ever since he left — those mysterious blue eyes, the way he slightly bites his lower lip just before laughing at something ridiculous Adrian has said, the way his arm muscles swell beneath his shirt with the slightest movement…God, he’s sexy. I could think of a million different ways I’d want him to ruin me. The thought alone of being trapped beneath his large brawny frame writhing in pleasure as he thrusts into me over and over has me clenching around nothing. Though I’m not usually one for a one time fling, I have a feeling he’d be able to convince me. “So, you wanna tell me what all of that was about?” Adrian asked as she helped me settle into the guest room. “What are you talking about?” I asked. “Since when are you a shy girl?” She giggled. Sigh. I figured she was referencing my unusual silence during the car ride over here. “He’s hot as fuck but I’ve never seen you like that before.”

“Ugh!” I groaned as I covered my face with a pillow. She’s right. I’m not very easily intimidated. I’m quite the confident woman and I ensure everyone in the room knows it, but this was different. Almost as if our energies were fighting for dominance, and mine didn’t stand a chance. “Hey if it’s any consolation, my jaw dropped the first time I saw him without his mask too.” Mask?

“Mask?” I asked.

“Yes…the last time I was here he was on base training recruits, so I’d see him often in full tactical gear. He’s a snipper, so he wears a mask to hide his face in the field. I mean, that was hot too, but in a Ghostface kinda way”

I couldn’t help but laugh at the comparison, but I was curious to see what his entire ensemble looked like. “How old is he?” I asked.

“I think he’s in his mid to late 30s? I’m honestly not too sure, and it doesn’t matter to me either way.” She winked. “I was sensing some unspoken vibes between the two of you in the car though. Don’t think I didn’t see both of you stealing glances at each other every now and then.” She smirked.

“Stop,” I scoffed. “A man like that is definitely not single, and even if he is…I don’t know” I blushed. “I didn’t see him looking at me..”

“K well I see everything, he definitely likes what he sees, and clearly the feeling is mutual on your end as well. Looks like tonight will be interesting.”

“Nothing’s gonna happen, Adrian.” I laughed as I rolled my eyes. Nothing’s gonna happen…right?

PART II 👉🏽 A Weekend In Vienna 🇦🇹: PART II

PART III 👉🏽 A Weekend In Vienna 🇦🇹: PART III

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bibbityboppitybillyharvgrove · 5 months

Text

A Happy Christmas - R.Lupin

Summary - Remus and his wife have a tradition they follow every Christmas Eve, wrap the remainder of their children’s gifts and pull an all-nighter to get some extra alone time together.

Word Count - 821

Warnings - Female Reader, Potter!Reader(No physical description given), use of Y/N, Not sleeping (Let me know if I missed any)

Author's Note - Welcome to day 9 of 25 days of fics! I know that this one is later than usual and I apologize. I'm super sick at the moment with a bad head cold so I'm trying! I hope you enjoy!

Harry Potter Masterlist

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25 days of fics masterlist

Feedback is welcomed and encouraged

Enjoy!

not my gif

It was Christmas Eve, snow was falling, the fireplace crackling and the children were sleeping. Now Remus never thought he would have a life like this because of his furry little problem but he was happy that he was proven wrong. Y/N Lupin, once Y/N Potter, had been his wife for nearly 10 years, the two of them getting married right after graduating Hogwarts. James was always their biggest advocate and number one supporter no matter what.

They usually spent Christmas together, at James and Lily’s house so the kids could all be together. Being with family was the most important thing to Y/N, she always had someone with her when she was running errands or doing some housework. She was never alone so of course she wanted to spend the holidays surrounded by loved ones. James offered to host because, simply put, his house was bigger and could hold more people easier, thanks to professionally playing quidditch.

All of the adults in the house were still awake, rushing around to get last minute gifts into the house or wrapped up with pretty paper to be put under the tree and torn open a few hours later. James and Lily had just finished up putting Harry’s things under the tree before calling it a night and going to bed themselves. This left Y/N and Remus alone and awake, wrapping the last of their childrens’ gifts.

They could do it with magic but both of them preferred the muggle way, wrapping the gifts by hand. That's why it usually took them twice as long to get everything wrapped and put away. This was their routine every Christmas Eve: wrap the presents together, put them under the tree and spend some quiet time together, knowing everyone was sound asleep.

As they finished putting the gifts under the tree, they took the time to just hold each other and watch the snow fall outside the window, just enjoying each other’s company. Y/N also never thought that she would have a life like she does now, she never thought that Remus reciprocated her feelings. She never thought she was good enough for him but to him, she was more than enough. She was the love of his life, the one person that he would protect with every fiber of his being. Once the kids came along, he knew that he would never give this life up for anything. He would kill for his family, he would sacrifice himself for his family because he knew that they would do the same.

They watched as the sun began to rise, the birds chirping outside, the footsteps of the kids running down the stairs followed by James and Lily’s lazy ones. When James took notice of his sister and his friend, he smiled sleepily knowing exactly what had occurred. “You two never went to sleep, did you?” He asked the pair.

“No, we stayed up watching the snow. Lost track of time. Happy Christmas James,” His sister responded, smiling right back at her big brother.

“Happy Christmas Y/N.”

“Mummy, daddy, can we open our gifts now?” The youngest Lupin boy asked innocently as he hugged her leg.

“Go on then, they aren’t going to open themselves,” Remus teased as he ruffled his son's hair.

With the proper go ahead, the three children tore into their gifts, paper flying all over the place. The parents huddled together, watching the delight in their children’s eyes as they took in all of their new toys and clothes. Little Harry was especially excited to see his very own broom gifted by his aunt Y/N and uncle Moony. This was the life that they wanted to live and enjoyed every second of it.

“Happy Christmas my love,” Remus said quietly to his wife as he handed her a small wrapped box.

“Happy Christmas Remmy,” She replied, handing him his gift. The two of them opened them together as the kids all giggled in the background. Remus had given her a gorgeous necklace that held two interlocking hearts that held their initials. Y/N had given him a new sweater, one he had been eyeing up the last time they went out to the shops together. “There’s something else under the sweater,” She hinted to him.

So he took out the sweater to reveal an ultrasound picture. “You’re kidding? Please tell me this isn’t a joke,” He had a wide smile on his scarred face, excited at the fact that they were bringing another kid into the world.

“It’s not. We’re having another baby!” She exclaimed, James and Lily immediately ending their conversation as they overheard. Remus engulfed his wife into a tight hug, lifting her off of the ground as he laughed happily.

The whole house was overjoyed with the news, everyone smiling big and giving hugs wherever they could. It was a typical Lupin-Potter Christmas.

#remus lupin x reader #remus lupin #james & peter & remus & sirius #moony #moony wormtail padfoot and prongs #james potter #harry potter #prongs #james potter x sister!reader #remus john lupin #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x y/n #marauders #the marauders #marauders era #remus lupin imagine

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elliesmainhoe · 1 year

Text

Motivation

Boxer!Ellie Williams x Fem!Reader

Summary: You have a day off work and go visit Ellie at training.

Contents: Fluff, kissing, use of 'baby, angel, doll, good girl and sugar', Ellie is handsy.

My Masterlist

You woke up at ten, laid around untill eleven. And you found yourself extremely bored. You didn't like work. Because well, no one likes work.

You only tolerated it due to you having something to occupy your time with. Ironically, you were a physical therapist, you rehabilitated athletes who had injured themselves.

The pros of your job: you met interesting people, heard interesting stories and did your duty to put some good back into the world.

Cons however, was that you were overworked and you barely got to spend time with your girlfriend.

Ellie made enough money, that if you wanted, you could never work another day again. However you hated the idea of being dependant on someone so you chose to keep tirelessly working.

But regardless, you had a day free of any obligations and could do whatever you wanted for 24 blissful hours.

You finally dragged yourself out of bed, shuffling towards the large floor to ceiling window in yours and Ellie's shared penthouse apartment. You drew the material to one side, squinting as bright light flickers into the room.

You threw on a simple outfit, a cozy, cream coloured sweater, flared blue jeans and simple black converse. You rubbed in various serums and products into your skin until you deemed yourself presentable enough and walked downstairs.

You reached the large, modern open plan kitchen, grabbing various ingredients you knew Ellie would enjoy. A spiced aroma drifted throughout the large space as your meal slowly came together. You put it in an insulated lunch box to keep the food warm, put it in your bag and left yours and Ellie's home.

You arrived at the large gym at exactly 12:25, 5 minutes until Ellie's lunch break. You entered the large 3 story building the first floor was a basic public gym, weights, cardio and other various machines.

The second floor was filled with punching bags, and a large flighting ring stood in the floors centre. This floor was for novice to advanced training.

The third floor was private. Ellie rented the top floor, using it as a private studio. Only her people (coaches, spar partners, specialists) had access, well plus you of course.

Having ridden the elevator to the top, you entered a small foyer. A large blacked out door that was locked stood tall. You rustled through your bag fishing out the key card and swiping it against the pad. The red light switched to green with a beep and the doors slid open.

You looked at the familiar room, glancing around trying to locate your girlfriend. You spotted her holding a plank on the floor. Beads of sweat dripped down her flexed arms. Her hair was tied up out of her face, a few strands loose and dangling.

You slowly approached her, trying to be stealthy.

"Baby, I know your there." She says before looking up at you.

"Damn, caught red handed, huh?"

"uhuh." She agrees, "I know the rhythm of your footsteps doll, I am impossible to speak up on." She says breaking her plank.

"You do know that justs makes me want to sneak up on you more, right?" She doesn't reply, only smirking at you while she got up from the floor.

Ellie leans towards you and kisses your forehead. "What has caused you to grace me with your presence?" She quips, walking towards a bench and picking up a small towel and wiping down her forehead.

"I cooked you homemade lunch..." You reply, taking out the insulated lunch box, still warm to the touch.

"oh my sweet, selfless, angel" she cooes sarcastically. "Oh shut up" you roll your eyes. "Not completely selfless, I want some too."

She chuckles "yeah of course baby," she says "c'mere" she winks at you and pats next to her on the bench. You shuffle over, handing her the warm meal.

You two banter and laugh, sharing food and kissing.

"Wish you could be here all the time with me, doll." She mutters through a bite of pasta. "Y'know, you could just work for me, be my personal nurse and all that."

"I don't know, I'll have to think about it Ells."

"Yeah, course sugar. Can't just ask you to quit your job and expect you to immediately say yes." She hummed, finishing off her last bite of pasta.

She closed the lunchbox lid, grabbing your bag and slipping it back in. "Hey, wanna help me work out?"

"I don't know Ells, I don't really think I can help with that. Your workouts are... intense."

She laughs "Don't worry doll, you don't have to do anything, just need you for a bit of motivation"

"okayyy... What do you want me to do?"

"Right lay down on the floor" You send her a look and she laughs in return "just do it baby, yeah good girl, okay, yeah flat on the floor."

She slowly climbs on top of you her arms on either side of your head, palms facing the floor. She moves her self into a plank position again.

She begins to do a push up, halfway her face meets yours. She collides her lips with yours briefly, but she pushes back up before you could fully enjoy it.

"Now. that. is. rude" you laugh at her, words between kisses.

"count for me" she asks, you can only nod in reply

She continues to do this, over and over again, it's torture.

"100" you finally say. She pushes down again but this time her lips linger for longer, her tongue entwining with yours. Her hands behind to wander, grabbing and pinching at your skin under your sweater. You could feel her smile when you gasped at the feeling.

"Hey." She says, her voice low and gravely. "I think I can scrap training this afternoon... Let's go home" she whispers into your ear. You could only muster a nod in reply.

----------

My first proper request!!!! I genuinely have no idea if you get what I mean about the press up kisses. It's so difficult to explain it 😭.

PT 2

NOT PROOFREAD

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morbidology · 1 month

Text

The historic unsolved murder of Julia Wallace has been the inspiration for many books and is regarded as one of the most baffling classic murder mysteries. William Herbert Wallace and his wife, Julia, lived in the district of Anfield, Liverpool. William lectured chemistry while Julia was an accomplished pianist.

On the evening of 18 January, 1931, William was attending a meeting at the Liverpool Central Chess Club. While there, he was handed a note which contained a message that came through on the telephone. The note was from a man who identified himself as “R.M. Qualtrough” who asked William to come to “25 Menlove Gardens East” the following evening at 19:30 to discuss an insurance deal. When the aforementioned time was approaching, William made his way to the address by tramcar. When he arrived at the area the address was said to be, he couldn’t find it. He asked a couple of police officers on duty as well as newsagent workers but according to everybody, this address didn’t exist. After searching for around an hour, he gave up and made him way back home. He was on a wild goose chase. He questioned who “R.M. Qualtrough” was and why he sent him to a non-existent address and how he knew he would be at the Liverpool Central Chess Club the previous evening.

When he arrived, William was stumped to find that he couldn’t open either the front door or back door. His next door neighbours, John and Florence Johnston, saw him looking perturbed and asked him what was going on. He walked around to the back again and this time, the door opened. As he entered his home, he was met by a ghastly scene. Lying in front of the gas fire in the living room was the bloody body of Juliet. “They’ve finished her, look at her brains…” a pale disturbed William exclaimed to the Johnstons. Police shortly arrived to assess the scene. Due to a major strike in 1919 that led to half of the force being dismissed, the handling of the investigation was a complete and utter shambles from the start.

The murder was a frenzied and brutal one indicating that the killer was most likely covered in blood. William didn’t have a spot on blood on him. In addition, an investigation of the sinks and drains revealed that they had not been used indicating the killer had left the home while drenched in Julia’s blood. Despite the fact that there was no evidence against him, investigators began to question whether William had killed his wife. It was uncovered that the phone call had come from a booth 400 yards from the Wallace household and they questioned why the door had opened when other witnesses were nearby. However, the reconstruction of times surrounding the murder swayed in William’s favour. Many people could place him on the tram at 19:06 and several witnesses saw Julia at 18:45 meaning that William would have only had 15 minutes to kill his wife, clean himself up, dispose of the murder weapon and clothing, and catch the tram.

Nevertheless, William was charged with murder and stood trial at Liverpool Assizes. All of the evidence against him was purely circumstantial yet he was found guilty and sentenced to death. However, the Court of Criminal Appeal quashed this verdict because it was “not supported by the weight of the evidence.” William was set free. He passed away two years later. To this day, nobody has ever been charged with Julia’s murder.

#true crime #unsolved #cold case #mystery

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multi-fandom-friend · 4 months

Text

“Let’s do something fun, yeah?” “Like what?” “Let’s go to a rave” “You’re Joking”

COME GET YOUR FOOD UOU SIMPS. so I got this idea from an artist named @razorsystem on here. They had art of Jason and crew in rave outfits, and being a part of rave culture myself, and the little voice in my brain annoying me until I wrote this, this now exists. Enjoy loves! TW FOR FLASHING LIGHTS AND BRIGHT COLORS ON THE DIVIDER AND FOR THEMES OF DRINKING AND BIG CROWDS

🦇Bruce🦇

🦇 when you first asked him to go? It went a little like this

🦇 “Hey Brucie?” “Jesus, I know that tone. You want something.” “Can we pleaaaase go to a rave?” “Absolutely not” “why?” “I’m too old for that. Drinking? Dancing? Flashing lights? Not my thing.” 🦇 you being you? You convinced him. And he got outfits. Pretty expensive ones too but he’s a hot millionaire what did you expect?

🦇 Once you got there he was a little uncomfortable but once he had a drink and started dancing with you? He was fine. He kept his guard up, of course, but he was fine. 🦇 on your way home he stopped and made you two get pizza and everyone in the pizzeria was looking at you two. A 6 something foot tall scary dad aged man and his partner sticking onto his arm as they giggled together in a bright colored rave outfit

🥀Jason Todd🥀

🥀 when you first asked him he was so confused as to what a rave even was

🥀 “Hey Jaybird?” “Yes, love?” “There’s a rave tonight, wanna go?” “What the hell is a rave?” “What’s a— Jason? How have you never heard of a rave? It’s basically a party with a bunch of bright colors, lots of loud music with even more bass in it, and good vibes. Wanna go?” “Will there be lots of people” “…..yeah?” “I dunno. Maybe.” 🥀 Just like his dad he’s hesitant, but he goes eventually. He probably had more fun than you did if we’re being honest. 🥀 y’all got there and he was having the time of his fucking life. And he didn’t wanna tell you but he loved the outfits you two were wearing, but he hated the thigh high latex boots with a small heel that you made him wear. It’s not that they were “too girly” or anything because he doesn’t think clothes have gender he just didn’t entirely understand how to walk without looking like he had a pole up his ass, so you had to teach him. 🥀 once he got the walking down pat, he could dance with you. He didn’t wanna drink because he still had to keep his guard up and walking in these shoes are hard enough sober just in case. 🥀 he made you two leave a little early but you had fun nonetheless. He ordered takeout and you picked it up on the way home.

💎Dickhead Grayson💎

💎 Immediately said yes.

💎 “Hey bluejay? Wanna go to a rave toni-“ “yes. A thousand times yes.” 💎 and then he showed you a photo of him at a rave when he was younger. 💎 You couldn’t believe your eyes. Your Bluejay in short shorts, a latex shirt and leather harness with platform boots and glitter coating his body was in that photo. 💎 then he got dressed and jesus fuckin Christ he looked awesome. Glittery, but awesome. He helped you get dressed and then sprayed you down with iridescent glitter spray that got in your mouth and everywhere glitter probably shouldn’t be

💎 once you got there, he grabbed drinks for you both and started dancing with you immediately. He had so much fun

💎 he still made you both leave early, just for safety reasons. 💎 he also got pizza with you and you two were standing there like two giddy hyenas. Like seriously. You both couldn’t stop laughing for a good 25 minutes.

🐍 Damian Wayne🐍

🐍 it took so much convincing and so much prodding but you got him to break. 🐍 “But Damieeeee!” “No.” “Come on! I promise you’ll have fun!” “Nope.” “Pleaaaase?” 🐍 you did your pouty face and he broke. 🐍 he got his dad to buy you both outfits and you went

🐍 hated how many people there were. Hated it. So much. But you started dancing with him and he calmed down instantly

🐍 you both left after about an hour and went home, he needed a good pair of very loose sweatpants and a very loose shirt, and a good long cuddle session and he was all better.

A/N hi y’all! If you could follow me or even like this post that would be highly appreciated. Thank you!

#batfam #damian wayne #jason todd x reader #damian wayne x reader #bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader #dick grayson #dick grayson x reader #batfam headcanons

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xcixmoon · 1 year

Text

introduction

ulti. masterlist

zero masterlist

this is part of my series for zero. this story is 18+, i advise that if youre underage that you dni.

trigger warning: reader's (you) will be given a backstory in this series. i usually dont like to do this in a character x reader series but it will give better structure for me to write and tell you the story as you read along. there will be talks of neglect.

life wasnt easy for you.

you had a childhood that made you always in either fight or flight mode.

your mother was at a constant battle with herself that she took it out on you. she blamed you that she had to grow up quicker than what she wanted and was forced to deal with you.

your father was great from what you remember but ultimately he left you and your mom. you didnt understand of course when you caught him packing his belongings and seeing your mother sit on the bedroom cry with a bottle or two in hand.

you remember asking where he was going and he just told you that he'll back so you waited and waited while dealing with your mother.

he never came back.

as you got older you told yourself that once you hit 18 you would leave her to allow her to sit in her self-pity but she beat you to the punch.

you got home one day after school with the house empty - no note, food or anything. you just figured she went out drinking once more but then that day turned into days where you were just sitting alone.

she left you just as your father left you.

you luckily had one close friend in high school where her parents took you in.

they were never mean to you but they pitied you.

a young teenage girl left by both parents? how could they not feel bad for you.

you kept your distance from people far more than ever but were still ever grateful for them that they gave you a space to sleep.

as high school ended you already had in your mind that you were signing up for the military. it was an easy choice for you.

you had no childhood to bother to think of what you wanted to become in life and this was the best choice at the moment for someone who didnt want to worry about the future.

days in the military flew by for you.

you spent endless minutes, hours and days focusing your time to learn every weapon possible and the one that pulled your attention the most was a sniper rifle.

a M200 intervention to be exact.

as you took time to learn the weapon more, you became a bit well known around base. people always loved to whisper and gossip. you never understood it but that was their entertainment for the most part on base.

you were a lone wolf, a nobody as most people would say, but you were someone who taught herself how to be highly skilled with your rifle.

you became zero.

you were friendly with very few and most people hated that.

they thought you were a snob but you were far from it. you just wanted to get through life and this was the life that you were living until the end.

as you hit 25 in the military, you noticed that every memory sort of started to become one. you didnt have a different life to balance you out when you would think of the past and it was pretty common that people who experienced emotional and mental abuse that they try to suppress their memories.

you would unintentionally mix memories or easily forget about a day in total.

you felt a bit ashamed that you didnt have a life outside the military but these were the cards you were dealt.

your life changed for ever ever since captain price walked into your life.

to be continued...

#simon ghost riley smut #simon riley x reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley fanfic #john soap mactavish #soap mactavish #captain price #mw2 #mw2 fanfic #cod x reader #cod mw2 #ghost x reader #ghost mw2 #task force 141 #xcixseries #femreader

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notyour-valentine · 2 years

Text

The Boy in the Window 25 ~ Tommy Shelby X Reader (Series)

[Masterlist] [Series Masterlist]

Chapter Summary: (Y/N)'s stay at the sanatorium renders a lot of new experiences and truths, not just for her but for all of them.

Notes: It seems this story didn't want to let me go, so it is a long one. I do not consent to my work being translated, copied or posted elsewhere on this platform or any other.

Warning: Canon conforming mention of violence. Illness. (18/21+). Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Expect spoilers for Peaky Blinders Season 1-4.

Wordcount: 7419

Part 25

[Previously]

There was something innately calming about the sound of the waves.

Again and again they brushed against the shore with the steadiness of a calming heart that had been beating since the beginning of time.

People came and went, even countries and kingdoms did, but the sea just kept coming.

Despite all her reluctance, (Y/N) was glad she had come here.

She now knew why poets and painters could spend hours staring at the infinite horizon. When the sun set, it was the most beautiful sight she had ever seen, turning the entire horizon golden red.

The air was different too. If she had thought Arrow House an improvement from Birmingham, this was another sphere.

In truth, she hadn’t believed it would actually come to pass, not until they actually stepped onto the boat that would carry them away.

And then there was no return.

Dr. Wood had been rather broad with his offers.

They, and especially their costs, had seemed impossibly daunting to her as all she could think of were the household budget she had calculated her life on for the last seven years, but Tommy dismissed it all immediately.

“We don’t care about how much it costs.”

She would have argued vehemently against it, because she cared a lot, but for him money wasn’t even worth discussing.

Tommy had shot down Margate as soon as it was mentioned, and even Torbay was not up to his standards.

Since the summer was coming to a close, he feared it might be too cold on the English coast for some of the very lengthy and rather daunting list of treatments, most of which she couldn’t even pretend to understand.

But that only left foreign offers which were equally frightening as they were expensive.

She had tried to argue for England once more, but Tommy had presented an immovable case for a different location, which had startled her into stunned silence.

She would have thought no man that had ever been to France would ever look favourably about the country again. Not Tommy, apparently.

That had left them with another problem.

She thought his pick had given her a way out, after all, travelling with two small children was one thing, but doing so in a foreign country was a whole other thing entirely.

And she wouldn’t have a way of communicating with the doctors and nurses and other people there. Neither she, nor Frances or Lisa spoke a word of French.

His “Well I do.”, had disarmed her completely, but he had only shrugged off her disbelief. “At least that way you won’t have anyone talking behind your back.”

And now here she was, staring out into the Mediterranean sea.

When he had said that money was irrelevant, she should have been warned.

Even on the boat she had a bedroom larger than any room in her old house in Small Heath, with every comfort afforded to them.

There even was a proper dining room with white tablecloths and silver cutlery for them to use, although nothing baffled her more than the fact that they thought it a good idea to have them use real glasses on a boat.

Emma and Charlie weren't the only children travelling in first class but apparently the only ones most other passengers had seen eat at the same table as their parents, but there was no way she'd let them out of her sight on a boat- not for a single moment.

Unlike Charlie, Emma shared her sentiment, and hardly ever let go of either her or Tommy for more than a minute.

And Lord help them if anyone even thought of leaving her visual radius for some undisclosed location-

They were all glad to have dry land under them once more, but for varying reasons.

The place Tommy had chosen made her want to cut and run immediately.

Yes, it was a sanitarium, with a whole army of doctors and nurses standing by and even a few professors.

But at the same time it was like one of those luxury hotels with the red carpets and balconies in front of the entrance- or at least she imagined them to be.

After all, which hospital had butlers and footmen? Had chandeliers in the dining room? Black tie dinners, a concert hall and a casino on the grounds for entertainment and already prepared accomodation for lady's maids and valets?

But it still was a medical facility, and so on the first day she had a thorough examination, after they had spent the first night in the villa- yes, villa- on the grounds of the sanatorium which was just for their use only and had housed many a titled guest before them, although catered to by chefs and waited on by servants to the point where Emma tugged at the arm of the man waiting at the door, asking him rather bluntly if he didn't have anything better to do than just stare at the opposite wall.

Not only did they provide food and service, (Y/N) was also met with an entire closet of robes, gowns and bath clothes, but throughout their stay she hadn't touched those.

She had fought tooth and nail but Tommy had insisted on sorting them all out with an appropriate wardrobe and it was far easier, she found, to accept these things if they were given by him and not some stranger.

A great many things were easier with Tommy around. He was also with her for the examination, not only as a translator, but also as a guardian.

She hated it, hated being fussed over, being treated like a fragile little thing or a child, despised the way they were only ever so kind and ever so forthcoming it seemed a little bit dishonest, or it would have done if she didn’t know that Tommy held his hand (and his money) over her, over them all.

The fact that there were no other children to be seen anywhere, and that they, as two unmarried people were given leave to practically live together without even an eyebrow raised told her one thing above all else: they had been grounded by a lot of money.

On the second day, after a schedule of treatments was worked out, he introduced her to an English speaking nurse called Clèmence, that would have been paid a lot of money to attend her exclusively and work as a translator while he kept the children entertained throughout the day.

Despite taking on that task, he still made sure to check in on her whenever he could, let alone question her thoroughly once they joined paths, as well as thoroughly reading through all her medical reports while conversing with the doctors and the nurses daily.

She didn’t miss how he always tipped the lower workers until their eyes shone, and she wasn’t as foolish to think he was merely paying for carrying bags, holding doors or rubbing her feet.

Apparently one could buy not just information but loyalty too, it seemed, as he left nothing to chance.

It wouldn't surprise her if some worker kept a secret log of the times she had coughed to hand in to Tommy at the end of the day.

Every time she saw yet another bill slip from his fingers, her chest tightened.

None of this came cheap, in fact, she knew it would cost him a small fortune, and that was just the money, and not the fact that he was here with her, because she had been too afraid to go at it alone.

So it was in guilt that she bit her tongue and let them do whatever they wanted, whatever he encouraged.

They put her in salt baths, or in others were there steam rose until her hair got all frizzy. They rubbed oils and creams on her chest and back before placing warmed stones on it. They rubbed her hands and feet (although she had no idea how that would help her lungs) and had her inhale all sorts of greenery until her eyes burned and her nose ran, which according to them was a good sign as it meant “It is loosening the infection, Madame.”

She did not feel very much like a Madame, nor did the idea of it loosening the infection seem as preferable to her when she was blowing her nose at near by-minute pace.

They didn’t stop there, no, there were scented bandages, massages, and even some ghastly little pool of water that only ever reached below her knee and was freezing cold which they made her walk through no matter how much she shivered - for her circulation, apparently, and encouraged her to spend time walking by the sea (an activity Tommy and the children greatly approved of, which made it a lot less tedious).

To her own surprise she caught herself that even Cyril would have enjoyed this.

She would have - could have complained, but in truth, she could see it working.

In a way, bit by bit, day by day, all the warm baths and steaming sessions had melted a weight off of her shoulders, had freed her from the invisible rope around her chest and calmed her racing mind.

For the first time in forever, she found herself sleeping through the night and waking up with energy instead of exhaustion.

It was a strange thing to experience, one she could not put into words.

But she missed the children, even if she had them before breakfast and after tea.

She was with nurses and doctors, while they were out there somewhere with Tommy, having a proper holiday.

It was restlessness more than anything that drove Tommy out of the confinements of the sanatorium with the children.

The first few days he had spent at the beach, ever the perfectionist, until both children could swim to his satisfaction, returning them with wide smiles, dry hands, sun kissed skin and the sweetest kind of exhaustion after an entire day in the waves.

Then, once they were sufficiently proficient, he took them out on a boat one day, exploring the smaller caves at the coastline, just out of view.

“There were so many crabs, Mummy!”

“Hundreds and hundreds!”

On the days where they weren’t in the water, they collected sea shells and on the next, drove holes in them with heated needles and made a string.

The day after that, they returned form having been fishing with some bounty that Tommy refused to hand over to the cook and instead insisted on grilling themselves.

He even taught them how to remove the bones in one bit.

(Y/N) mashed the fish up all the same with her fork to make sure neither Emma or Charlie would even risk swallowing a bone.

Sometimes he’d take them further away from the sea, like the time they went grape picking or the time Emma returned to her saying that they had ridden a donkey and Charlie assuring her that his father had said perhaps they’d get one too.

Every day, for them, was a new adventure with Tommy’s guidance, and while it made her heart swell more than she would have thought possible it did hurt that she wasn’t a part of all these memories they were creating.

She had thought Tommy would get bored, eventually, but it seemed to be the opposite. He sometimes told her of his plans before hand, the things he wanted to do, the places he wanted to take them, what he wanted them to know and learn.

All these things, she soon realised, where things he had learned on the road, experiences shaped by his own childhood and in passing them on, he seemed younger than his years, and day by day she saw more of the boy next door in him, even if it was only in flashes, and only ever when it was the four of them.

“It was a proper castle, Mummy, not a palace!”, Emma insisted over dinner, her food not nearly as interesting as the story she could tell her.

“Because castles are for battle.”, Charlie said. “They’ve got bigger walls and a drawbridge and teeny-tiny slots from where they’d shoot the arrows out of!”

“And - and there were armour a long long time ago there were real knights there, with swords and horses!”

The story about the tourneys had captured both their imagination incredibly and dominated the dinner conversation for almost it’s entirety.

“That sounds like quite the wonderful day you’ve had.”, she admitted, before nodding to the two unfinished plates of food. They had to eat before it got cold entirely.

They had not even considered the black tie dining room for more than a moment, as there stiffness and silence ruled.

And in what world would they prefer that to Emma and Charlie’s excited chatter?

“I’m quite jealous.”

Tommy shrugged slightly.

“If you’re good we might take you with us on our next trip.”, he quipped, watching her from across the table.

“I am being good!”, (Y/N) insisted. “I’ve done everything they’ve said and let them do everything they’ve wanted.”

“Didn’t do the salt cave.”, he muttered under his breath, tapping the ashes of his cigarette into his ashtray.

“Well that’s different!”, (Y/N) argued. “There’s no point in that!”

His eyebrow shot up.

“It’s only worked for hundreds of years.”

She glared at him and huffed.

“Tommy - it’s ridiculous. I just can’t imagine that there is any use in me sitting in a salt cave.”

“What’s a salt cave?”, Charlie wanted to know.

“It’s a cave made from salt.”, Tommy said.

Charlie stared at him for a moment, but then his narrowed eyes glanced at the table salt, squinting suspiciously.

“That salt?”, he asked.

Tommy nodded.

“But that’s soft! You can’t make walls that soft!”

“Apparently they are.”, (Y/N) said. “A whole cave filled with salt and they want to dump me in the middle of it.”

To make her point, she took the little silver salt spoon and shoved it right in the centre of the bowl, where it remained standing.

Emma and Charlie stared at the tiny spoon for a second, before she looked up as she grinned.

“Like they do with the fish at the shops?”

“Yes.”, (Y/N) agreed with a chuckle. “Mummy’ll be just like a pickled herring by the end of it.”

Both children laughed, but Tommy didn’t think it was funny in the slightest.

“The salt makes the air different and that’s good for the lungs.”

Another pastime of his, while the children were sleeping, was ploughing through medical works and research.

“So me sniffing salt would have the same effect?”, she joked, but Tommy only threw her a dark glare - until his face suddenly softened.

He leaned over, a glint in his eyes.

“How about you do the salt cave and then we’ll all go on a little trip.”

(Y/N) hummed, trying to control her facial reaction.

She didn’t see the point, and the process of spending the better part of an hour stuck in a literal cave was far from appealing, but at the same time she burned to see something else rather than the sanatorium and the waves, even if it was just for a day.

“Can we go to the salt cave too?”, Charlie wanted to know, twisting the silver spoon.

“I suppose so.”, Tommy said with a shrug.

It looked, well, it didn't really look like anything, or at least not like something she had ever seen before.

The front part had the appearance of a hotel lobby, with a large desk and a waiting area. Of course, if one was travelling with Tommy Shelby a waiting area was not necessary.

They had been expecting them.

"Right through there.", Tommy translated as a man dressed all in white, accompanied by two women, and guided them further into the earth and away from the sunlight.

"You don't have to come.", She assured Tommy, watching his eyes glance back to the exit.

"Someone has to watch the children.", He mumbled, staring at his feet.

The lanterns reflected on the white walls, which were void of any natural light source, giving the entire corridor an unnatural golden glow.

There was another room, where (Y/N) was asked to take her hat off so that she could be more comfortable.

Then they were led through to the cave.

It was a strange place to be in.

The walls, of course, weren't smooth or polished but entirely covered in rough, glittering salt.

There was something otherworldly about this place, about the way the air smelled, and the lights flickered.

It was beautiful but in an unnerving sort of way, like some parallel place in a fairy tale world where humans like them had no place.

"Oh Mummy!", Emma gasped, her eyes wide and round as plates as she tried to take everything in at once.

The same awe was written all over Charlie's face as his hand found hers.

They had to move around some salt pillars to reach the loungers that had been prepared for them.

Four of them were ready, although both children would be able to fit on one easily and she doubted Tommy's would see use any time soon.

"They want you to sit down and take off your shoes.", He translated.

"Emma and Charlie too?", She asked, looking around at the children.

Charlie was running his fingers over the wall, feeling the textures while Emma was taking a more direct approach.

Her head snapped around when she heard Emma gag and cry out, seeing her jumping on the spot up and down, her face torn in agony.

"Mummy- it's really all salt!", she wailed

Stretching out her tongue she clawed at it with her fingers.

"Emma!", She gasped, deserting her place and running over to her daughter who was still gagging and coughing.

One minute she wasn't looking and her daughter had to go and lick the wall of the age old cave.

Her eyes swam with tears and she feared she would throw up all over the sparkling white salt.

While she rubbed her back, Tommy was barking orders.

It was strange hearing a language that was spoken in a brighter, more melodic voice by all those other people around her being twisted around his rough way of speaking.

A moment later they returned with a glass of water.

"Rinse your mouth!", She instructed, guiding the glass to her lips.

"Like when we're brushing teeth - good girl."

Emma pulled a face and began jumping up and down as now the taste of saltwater instead of just salt filled her mouth.

She hadn't thought of that and with nothing for her to spit into, (Y/N) told her to spit it into her hands.

A moment later, Tommy crouched down next to her with a bowl for the water Emma had spat out and a towel for her to dry her hands with.

It took three more rinses for the salt to get off of Emma's tongue and even then she was weepy.

"Well I don't really know what to tell you, my darling,", (Y/N) confessed, stroking her cheek. "What else did you expect?"

Emma pouted and leaned into her.

"Here.", Tommy muttered, digging in his pocket and pulling out a few caramel candies.

"This should help."

"Can I get one too?", Charlie asked.

"Course you do, my boy.", Tommy said, handing it to him.

Emma unwrapped it and handed Tommy the paper unceremoniously, who made it disappear in his pocket.

"Right, are we all good now?", He asked.

Only then did (Y/N) glance at the three other people in the cave who had been watching all this mayhem unfold.

It made her cheeks burn as she quickly averted her eyes.

Best get on with it now.

Once they were sat on the loungers, the nurses began to wrap a scarf around her shoulders a few times, covering her all the way up to her neck, before helping her lie down. Then they took the blanket and wrapped her legs in it tightly until she felt rather idiotic.

One blanket each was enough to wrap Charlie and Emma up, who giggled.

"We look like caterpillars!", Charlie giggled, wiggling around.

"None of that,", (Y/N) warned, "I don't want you falling off."

Especially since none of you can use your hands.

Although there was some truth in Charlie's words.

She did feel like a caterpillar.

The recommended silence lasted a decent five minutes before the children got bored.

"I packed my bag,", (Y/N) announced over their squirms and complaints, "and in it I packed my favourite straw hat."

Emma took over immediately.

"I packed my bag and in it I packed my favourite straw hat and sweeties!"

Then it was Charlie's turn.

"I packed my bag and in it I packed my favourite straw hat, sweeties and the story book!"

And so round and round they went.

But as the game went on, she didn't miss Tommy becoming ever more restless.

He had refused to be bundled up like the rest of them, and was only sitting on the side of the lounder. Bit by bit his breathing had gone heavier, even if his eyes were locked on the floor.

Smoking wasn't allowed in here but he was twisting the silver case between his fingers, fighting the desire.

It took her longer than she would have thought to be able to free her arm, or at least her hand from their bindings.

"Your turn!", Charlie reminded her.

"My turn?", (Y/N) asked, slightly startled.

"I packed my bag and in it I packed my favourite straw hat, sweeties and the story book, cake, chocolate cake, hot chocolate, some tea, Duffie, Mrs Tatters, a blanket, Cyril, a horse, a blanket-"

She stared at Emma as her memory broke off.

For three seconds she tried to think, but her mind was blank. Then Emma giggled.

"You're out!", She announced.

"What did I forget?", (Y/N) asked, glancing at Tommy.

"I packed you, Mummy!", She giggled, before running down the list.

"I packed my favourite straw hat, sweeties and the story book, cake, chocolate cake, hot chocolate, some tea, Duffie, Mrs Tatters, a blanket, Cyril, a horse, Mummy, all of us and the fire rocks.", Emma concluded.

"Tommy?", She asked softly to get his attention while Charlie eas beginning his list.

While Emma ran through it as if taking a single breath would break the spell, he took his time.

Tommy's eyes snapped up immediately, and the shine in them startled her, but once he realised there was no threat, he exhaled softly and swallowed hard.

"C'mere.", She asked, shifting slightly on the lounger in a very inelegant and rather humiliating fashion, to make a bit of room.

Slowly, he approached her.

"Duffie, Mrs Tatters, a blanket, Cyril, a horse, Mummy, all of us and the fire rocks and a big fluffy pillow!", Charlie concluded, while Tommy sat down on the edge.

It dipped under his weight.

Slowly, she laced her hand with his, feeling the slight trembling that he had tried to hide by playing with the lighter or clenching them into fists.

"It's perfectly fine if you want to wait outside."

Although he inhaled sharply, he shook his head.

"'m staying.", He promised, giving her hand a little squeeze, and holding on just as tightly. But his eyes roamed around the closed ceiling.

He was silent, and apart for the shaking in his hands, completely still, but she knew there was a war waging in his head.

Bringing the children had been a bad idea, because otherwise he wouldn’t have had to be here.

So she tried a different approach.

With a sigh, she rolled her head to the side, glancing down at their handiwork.

"The things I do for you.", She told him with a cheery voice. “Look at me - all wrapped up like a pastry about to go into the oven.”

Tommy glanced down the length of her body and reached over to tuck one side in a little tighter on her other shoulder, pulling it up to her neck.

"You should rest - that’s what they said. Rest or sleep.”, he reminded her. “I'll make sure they're not licking any walls in the meantime.”

(Y/N) sighed in deep exasperation.

"That was certainly something for the memory books.", She mumbled, glancing at where Emma and Charlie were still packing imaginary bags.

The corner of Tommy's lip twitched in promise of a smile.

Then he stroked that strand of hair out of her face which had been irritating her slightly, but was impossible for her to remove due to the wrapping.

He let his hands linger on her cheek.

"Close your eyes, I’ll watch them.", He promised, trailing his thumb over her cheek while she did the same with her own on his knuckles.

“And who’ll watch you?”, she asked, although her eyelids were getting rather heavy.

All these morning swims they had her doing made her welcome the afternoon rests.

“Well,”, he said, “I can always wake you up eh?”

That didn’t sound all too believable to her, more like a trick to get her to close her eyes, but when he began stroking her cheek in that calm and steady rhythm, it grew more difficult to fight.

Up and down, he stroked, up and down. Up and down.

Until sleep claimed her.

Tommy kept his promise, although not before consulting with all the doctors and nurses amd Clémentine.

But once permission had been granted, he saw no reason to delay.

The South of France was populated by large villas, hotels, and country clubs, or at least that was what he had thought, but within just a sort drive away from the compound, Tommy took them to a different sort of place.

It was a small fishing village, with narrow roads that reminded her of home, only that Small Heath had never been so clean, and to her the light brown stone walls and the orange-reddish rooftops were beyond charming, especially since the city didn’t overwhelm her.

It wasn’t too large or too expensive or too strange.

It was a small city for small people that wouldn’t make her feel inconsequential.

He had chosen it well.

The size, scale and tranquillity of the city (and the fact that there were no cars allowed) allowed them to let the children run a little ahead, as long as they always waited at the corners.

While Tommy stuck to his usual dark suits, even if the Southern heat forced him to abandon the jacket, he had gotten the three of them appropriate summer wardrobes, which for her meant a good dozen white and pale dresses with wide brimmed hats she had tried to reject, but he would hear none of it.

Now, they kept her face in the shade, which was a relief, while the light fabric didn’t feel suffocating at all.

For little girls it meant smaller hats and pale dresses. She didn’t fail to notice that Emma often wore a different dress when they returned to the one she had set out in, undoubtedly making either Tommy or the poor washer women regret ever having put her in pale dresses, but now she looked like a little angel, with the white dress, straw woven hat, and matching white ribbons that were tied around it.

With Charlie it had been a little more difficult as the boys fashion was still all sailor's uniforms and there was no way Tommy would allow his son to walk around like a navy soldier.

So Charlie was dressed like a right little gentleman, with shorts of course, but a shirt and vest of his own, even if his jacket hung right next to his father’s over his right, while she held onto the left one.

He had offered her his hand to help with some rather dangerous looking cobblestones and after nearly walking the entire street the realisation dawned on her that neither she nor he had pulled back, and by then there was no point anymore.

They strolled around for a bit and entered the church, where she helped the children each light their candles, the way they always did, while Tommy watched.

A little later they had some refreshments in the shade of some jasmine trees, with Charlie and Emma sharing a slice of apple tart, and trying to compete for the amount of “Merci”s they could fit into the brief interaction with the waiter.

By the end of their short stop, they had the entire staff wrapped around their little finger and offered the children a sweet on their way out, while praising them being well behaved for “English Children” (according to Tommy’s translation).

Then they strolled down to the harbour, where vendors not only sold fish and seafood, but also their craftswork, sweets, honey and other produces.

“I should have brought a basket.”, she said as she saw all the little stalls.

“I can buy you a basket.”, Tommy offered, nodding towards a spot where someone was weaving their own.

“No thank you!”, she quickly said, but she smiled at him.

Since there were more people around here, both children needed to hold their hands again as they made their way down the line of little stalls.

Before long Emma proudly sported a bag of sweets which she had only received on the premise that she won’t have more than one until after lunch, while Charlie had begged for his father to buy him that one large seashell which made the sounds of the sea - “Really, Dad - listen!”

He wasn’t disappointed.

At the next stall, another thing caught Emma’s eye.

“How come they’re round and these aren't?”, she asked.

The man was selling pearls, and while a part of his stall sold them already set as earrings or necklaces or bracelets, another part showed them still unset, with even the possibility of picking out a bunch from bowls, those that were deemed imperfect.

One bowl was for the round pearls, the others for those in different shapes.

“Do you know how pearls are made, Emma?”, Tommy asked.

“They’re made?”, she asked suspiciously. “They’re not stones?”

He shook his head.

“Do you remember when we took the boat a few days ago, when we went to that tavern with the oar at the wall? Where we had mussels to eat?”

Her head snapped around at that.

“You two ate mussels?”, she asked them surprised.

“They’re a bit squishy.”, Charlie told her “and Dad had to get them out of the shells for us.”

Did he now?

“The shells are like the home of the mussles and sometimes a little bit of sand gets in and sand feels itchy, doesn't it? So to stop it from itching, the mussels put layers and layers and layers of softness and bit by bit it gets all smooth and pretty.”

He let Emma and Charlie both think on that until he continued.

“Depending on the sand and where it is in the mussel, the shape changes. That’s why every single pearl is unique and none is like the other. Even when you look at the necklaces, no two pearls are the same.”

To bring down his point, he held up one of the singular pearls and showed them a little niggle.

“So if anyone ever tries to sell you a string of pearls and they all look and feel exactly the same, you know they’re trying to cheat you. If it’s just perfect its not real.”

“Truly? Every single one?”, Emma asked.

“Go have a look at the strings.”

They set to work immediately, analysing every single one in regards to shape and colouring.

“Goodness,”, she said softly as he joined her. “I didn’t know that.”

“Now you do.”

“Think I should get one for her? A necklace or a bracelet?”, he asked after a while.

“For Emma?”, she asked.

He nodded, but she shook her head immediately.

“Don’t say it’s too expensive.”, he argued preemptively, “they’re far cheaper here than they are in England.”

“Well, it’s not just the price,”, she insisted under her breath. “Emma’s five. She’s far too young for precious jewellery. She’ll lose it put it on Mrs Duffie or her dolls or maybe even the pony.”

The thought made him smile just barely.

“We can’t give her pearls until she’s eighteen, or sixteen at the earliest. She’ll have to understand and know how to take care of it properly.”

At that moment, she was called away again as one pearl apparently looked a little bit like a muffin.

They continued to stroll through the market but Tommy trailed behind slightly, the jackets in one hand, and the bought goods in the other.

Later, when the children were running circles around an orange tree, she joked that they’d probably sleep until noon next morning, but all she got in response was a mumbled “Probably.”

The thought it was perhaps the heat or the exhaustion or even boredom. It bothered her, but she couldn’t ask with the children around.

They reached the sanatorium rather late, but by the time she had the children washed and ready, they had prepared some dinner which Tommy had turned down in favour of a walk.

So it was just her eating with them and putting them to bed.

Her prediction had been right and they fell asleep even before she had finished the first song.

(Y/N) sung it to the end nonetheless, before kissing each child and leaving their shared bedroom.

The jacket resting over the back of the chair told her, he must’ve returned and she saw him but a moment later, standing on the balcony and staring out at where the waves were coming in timeless certainty.

Again. And again. And again.

The stars reflected on the shiny surface in hundreds little silver dots. The only red one was that of his cigarette as he brought it to his lips again and again.

His sleeves were rolled up again and his other hand was shoved deeply into the pocket of his trousers.

“The children are sleeping.”, she told him.

For a few seconds there was just silence, with only a nod in recognition of her words.

When nothing more came, she swallowed.

“Alright,”, she sighed, “I’m going to bed too.”

She had only just turned, when he spoke again.

“Wait.”, he asked, flicking his cigarette off of the balcony as he spoke. “I need to talk to you.”

“Oh?”, she asked, as her heart began to thunder.

Tommy stepped back inside and sat down on the sofa, arms braced on his knees, and his fingers twisting.

The sight was long familiar and made her swallow hard.

But all she could do was sit down next to him and wait.

It took a while for him to gather his courage to speak.

“You know,”, he began, staring at his feet, “these last few days, when I was with the children, or even today when they mucked about with the waiters, they keep thinking-”

He cut himself off and shook his head, running a hand through his hair.

“Why did you say what you did at the pearl vendors?”, he demanded to know, changing his approach so quickly she had trouble following.

“What?”, she gasped.

“Why would you say that?”, he repeated, a little calmer this time but no less desperate.

She raked her brain for what she could have done wrong, or said to hurt him.

Emma and the pearls, she thought.

He had been trying to do something nice and she had shut him down.

“I’m sorry.”, she said quickly, “I didn’t mean any harm, I just thought she was a little too young to have pearls of her own.”

His jaw clenched.

“So that’s why you said it? When she’s sixteen - like a figure of speech?”

Now she was entirely lost, and she felt herself getting upset too.

“Well no. I said it because at sixteen she’ll be old enough to take care of pearls. I know you have the money but that doesn’t mean you should be wasteful and for me giving a pearl necklace to a child is wasteful!”

He shook his head vehemently and reached over to take her hands in his.

“No, no that’s not - that’s not what I’m saying. That’s not what I’m trying to say!”, he mumbled, holding onto her hands.

“Then what are you trying to say?”, she asked.

The silence hung between them like a wall, and only he could breach it.

For a moment she thought he wanted to pull his hand away, but he changed his mind and held hers tighter.

“It’s a long time until Emma’s sixteen.”, he finally said. “That’s over ten years, (Y/N).”

She stared at him, his ruffled hair, his shining eyes, the way he alternated between taking open mouthed breaths like he had just run a mile or clenched his jaw to the point she feared it would snap. Even his cheeks were flushed.

“I don’t understand.”, she admitted.

He swallowed hard once more.

“You said we can’t give her pearls until she’s sixteen.”

(Y/N) stared at him in disbelief.

She had said that, had said every word then just like she understood them now, but the eye opening meaning he sought to put in his words escaped her.

“What are you trying to tell me, Tommy?”, she asked.

He huffed impatiently and averted his eyes once more.

“I need to know if you just said that or if you meant it… if it really is something you want.”, he said.

Mean what?

But before she could speak up, he already continued, the muscle in his cheek twitching.

“Because it’s what I want.”, he whispered, so softly the night breeze might have drowned it out if she hadn’t been hanging onto his every word.

“Because I want to be around when she’s sixteen, and Charlie too.”, he confessed, and once he had started, he couldn’t seem to stop himself.

“I want to see them go to school and university and all that other stuff we didn’t get to. I want to see them grow up. I want to - I want to look out me office window and see them race their horse sup the drive way even though you told them not to. I want to meet the people who they will become. I want all of that, and everything along the way - the good, the bad, all of it.”

His eyes met hers and they shone with tears.

“I want to be there, (Y/N), do you understand?”

“Of course you do.”, she said softly, speaking up against the lump in her throat as she offered him a small smile.

“No!”, he argued, “not of course. Not of course!”

Tommy shook his head once more and shifted until he was facing towards her, even if he couldn’t meet her eyes.

“When I wake up,”, he whispered, “I think about them - about what we’ll do today, about if they’ll like it. I think about watching them play, and hearing them laugh. About what things I should teach them and wonder how quickly they pick up on all that, about watching you watching them.”

He took a shuddering breath.

“I wake up and I know I get to do all that a- and it makes me want to get up.”

Tommy drew trembling circles in the palm of her hand.

“It’s been a long time since I wanted to get up in the mornings.”

Now, finally, she understood, and her eyes began to burn.

He took a shaking breath.

“Since I did it because I had something to look forward to and not just because I had to or because everything will fall apart if I didn’t, but because I wanted to.”

Oh Tommy, she thought and wanted nothing more than to pull him into her arms and hold him, but he wasn’t finished, and she didn’t dare interrupt him, not now.

Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he gathered himself again, at least to the point where he could look at her again.

“So I need to know,”, he said, the voice of the businessman returning, “I need to know you’re alright with that, with me…with me being involved, me teaching her things, me holding her, because it is what I want, but I also know I’m not much good, (Y/N).”

He had to clear his throat before continuing. “Not nearly as good with her as you are with Charlie or in general and I’m not half the man her father was, but I want to be there. O-only if you don’t mind.”

“Why would I mind?”, (Y/N) asked, her hand reaching up to cup his cheek, but he pulled it away, returning it to her lap.

He wanted matters settled and settled properly with the same dedication he showed his other ventures.

“Because you know what I am- how I am.”, Tommy reminded her. “It’s not an easy life to live around me. And it won’t be the same as it would be with someone else.”

“I know.”

That was all she said and these two little words made his lip tremble again.

But he needed more, more confirmation, more certainty.

Tommy almost buckled over at her words, taking deep and calming breaths as he ran his hand through his hair again.

“Fuck,”, he mumbled - “that was harder to ask than I thought it would me.”

That made her smile.

“Why?”, she asked, stroking a strand of hair out of his face.

This time he let her.

“Because I was afraid you’d say no.”, he told her blankly.

“I need something, (Y/N), something to hold onto, to drown out the noise when it gets loud again - I need something to come home to and-”

He broke off and shook his head.

“I need a home. Charlie needs a home and for all this time it was just a fucking house that might as well have been a backroom in some inn. I need something to come home to, but I want it to be you.”

She had opened her mouth to respond but he cut her off before she could speak.

“You and me.”

“And them.”, she reminded him, nodding towards the door to the children’s bedroom.

He lifted his gaze and nodded and for the first time during their conversation she could spot some sense of calm wash over him, not enough to drown out the worries, fears and confessions he had held within him and placed in front of her, but enough to dilute them bit by bit.

“It’s not just that. I- I want it to be us again.”, he said, giving her hands a little squeeze. "I need you to know that but I understand that things have changed, I've done things too and - well. I understand if you prefer it to be a different way, the way it's now with us as friends or... or whatever this is now or anything else, I'm alright with that."

He broke off to let himself breathe.

"Being around them, being around you - that's all I want.", he whispered, "in any way you'd have me.. You don't have to decide nor or ever, just...just so you know."

He had been so honest with her, pouring out his heart, probably more than he would have thought he would at the beginning of their conversation.

It would be unfair if she just left it at mere acceptance, because acceptance wouldn’t be right, not nearly, to capture the relief nor the way her heart had threatened to burst out of her chest unable to handle all the emotions his words had caused to stir inside her, good and bad.

Besides, what if she wanted him to know?

“Tommy,”, she said softly, making his head turn back to her. “I want it to be us too.”

The End.

I would like to thank every single person who has read, liked, shared and commented on this story. While I had a rough idea of where I wanted to go, you all knowing or unknowing had a hand in the way this story and the characters in it developed! Without your encouragement, I never would have managed to finish a story, which in total has over 117 000 words. I had such fun creating these characters and their stories, the way I've always had with writing, but no one prepared me for the amount of fun it would be to see other people react to this story.

So I want to thank you all for letting me experience the story through your eyes!

All my love,

Val

P.S. These four were my companions all throughout this summer, so while we probably all need a little break from each other, it would be very rude not to pop in from time to time, even if its just for a oneshot or headcanon or something

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Tommy

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#valentineswritings #the boy in the window #thomas shelby #tommy shelby #peaky blinders #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby imagine #thomas shelby imagine #tommy shelby fic #thomas shelby fic #peaky blinders imagine

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stxrvel · 10 months

Text

two strangers (1)

summary: when bucky rescues you, you didn't think there could be a more indecent person. but as the days go by, you realize he may have a chicken heart.

pairing: bucky barnes x f!reader

words: +6k

warnings: a lot of bad words and mentions of wounds and blood.

read this for some context! so fyi this is set in an alternate universe where mercenaries exist, but like a society, like john wick, and the avengers rescued bucky from hydra's control and all that, but he decided to keep his life in the mercenary side, taking missions to get rid of really bad people, and even though he isn't part of the society per se, he's very known by it but he doesn't care to join them.

note: hi guys! i decided to publish this in different parts, seeing that my inspiration had a big strike and yesterday i just couldn't stop writing. i think the updates will be weekly, but you'll know the exact date in the masterlist page. so i hope you like it! and know feedback is always appreciated! love you all 💜

Bucky never thought the rescue would be difficult. It was a huge house, three floors, a hundred windows and doors, with a garden that directly overlooked a wooded area. The walk to the entrance was not at all dissimilar to the ambiance of the whole area, as it was at least a forty minute walk through trees and bushes. There were about fifty people guarding each entrance and access, but Bucky knew that there would be a shift change at ten o'clock at night, at which time there would be about 25 people that he would have to face in less than 10 minutes to reach the target, and after that he would have just under two minutes to get at least ten kilometers away from the house and avoid being followed.

Except that Bucky wasn't riding the bike back to town and had a piece of a shirt pressed against the side of his abdomen from which blood was pouring out, while a couple of other bikes were following behind them and they could barely dodge the bullets.

Bucky knew he couldn't play with words again.

“Drive faster,” Bucky mumbled over the sound of the wind and bullets, barely able to hold onto the abdomen of the woman behind the wheel, whose name he couldn't remember.

“Fucking hell, I'm doing everything I can!”

Bucky peered over the woman's shoulder watching as the needle pointed to one hundred and ten kilometers per hour and raised his eyebrows. How that tiny woman was able to keep her balance and zigzag through the trees at that speed was a complete mystery.

While it was true that the bike had more speed, it was quite dangerous to increase it seeing the wooded road full of natural obstacles in front of them. So Bucky just pulled out of his right side the gun he always carried with him and started shooting at whatever he could aim at. Maybe that way he could get some leverage.

After a few minutes, Bucky began to make out the lighted streets of the city and was minimally glad that the rescue had not been a failure.

“When you take the road, turn right and then left, there you go straight ahead and increase your speed as much as you can.”

The woman barely nodded toward Bucky's words as she maneuvered through the branches and downhill slopes until she made it to the asphalt, and it was like falling off the end of a roller coaster. Bucky thought he had flown off the bike.

When the woman made the turn Bucky indicated and found a track that stretched along without a possible end, she accelerated so much that she was sure that, had she not had a helmet, she would have been out of eyelashes in seconds.

It didn't take them too long to lose the criminals following them and find the safe house where they would spend the night. Bucky felt his body still vibrating with the bike as the woman parked it in the subway parking lot. The walk to the stairs and what he rode inside the house was one big blurry moment inside his head as the adrenaline began to wear off and the pain throughout his body became more and more noticeable.

He barely remembered lying on the white couch, staining it entirely with blood and mud, and the woman in front of him trying to stop his bleeding.

You did everything in your power to stop the bleeding in the man's side. It was difficult, but you managed to get a halfway decent stitch and tried to disinfect it with what you found in the first aid kit in the house. You wrapped his abdomen with gauze and bandages as best you could and finally left him alone. He had fainted the moment you put alcohol on the wound with gauze, and you didn't know if it was because of the pain or the lack of blood. It was probably the latter, he looked like a strong guy.

A strong guy who had definitely underestimated his mission. Strong but his arrogance was a major flaw.

You had tried to arrange the whole room as you had found it, because you'd made a big mess carrying that man who weighed twice as much as he looked to the couch. In the end, cleaning up the blood was the most complicated thing.

You went to bed at dawn, after an exhaustive session in the shower. You washed your clothes by hand three times and then soaked them for at least an hour until you washed them again. You got clean clothes and changed when the first traces of azure blue began to adorn the sky.

But you stared at the ceiling for a while. Memories of what had happened in the last few days and years flooded your head and kept you moving your hands under the sheet. Restlessness, new friend. Reminiscing about it, the sound of bullets, the adrenaline rush and the blood of the man in the room almost kept you awake. But, at some point, out of exhaustion or pity, your eyes finally closed.

Bucky cursed, moving around the room. Trying to walk to the bathroom, he had dropped everything his hands had touched. And the pain in his side didn't make things any easier. He didn't know what the woman sleeping peacefully on the second floor had done, but it seemed the pain was sharper than yesterday.

As his body moved closer to the bathroom, he heard footsteps coming from the stairs. The silhouette of the woman materialized in front of him, who was trying to climb the five steps that separated him from the bathroom.

“What are you doing? You opened your wound,” Bucky observed the woman's scowl with hair standing on end like a cat in the face of an imminent threat.

He watched her in slow motion and infrared as she tried to move closer to him, decreasing the distance between them and making it difficult for him to walk to the bathroom.

The woman raised her arms to touch him, but before she could do anything, Bucky threw a swipe. She staggered, and without a second's hesitation stepped away from him.

Bucky thought he saw a hint of fear in her eyes, but it had to have been a figment of his imagination, because the next moment she was only looking at him with annoyance.

“How surly.”

“Don't get in my way.”

“I was trying to help you.”

“Standing in my way doesn't help me at all.”

“"You're bleeding again…”

“Fuck, I need to use the bathroom.”

The woman silently moved to the side. And Bucky barely glanced at her as he passed her and finally climbed the fifth step that separated him from his destination.

That was why he had stopped accepting missions like that. It was so much easier to just show up at a place to shoot someone in the forehead and then run away, he didn't have to spend days and days waiting to finish the mission. He could even do more than three in a single day, when the targets knew each other or were in the same place.

But, yes, even if it didn't seem like it, so much death at his heels was also a bit overwhelming if he was honest. He'd heard from other mercenaries, the ones who weren't so sadistic, that rescue missions were sometimes a respite to get back into the action again. Bucky had done it before, but there was always something that went wrong. And this time was no exception. Maybe he wasn't cut out to rescue people, to save them…

When he came out of the bathroom and made his way with great effort into the living room, the smell of bacon and eggs filled the room. Scattered on the dining room table were all the items he could find inside a first aid kit and there was also a bag with what appeared to be bloody gauze.

“I thought the bath swallowed you up.”

Bucky noticed when the woman came out of the kitchen wiping her hands with a white cloth. She was wearing different clothes than yesterday, white and neat, totally in contrast to the stained and dirty clothes he was wearing.

“Sit down. I need to check you over.”

“I'm fine.”

“Don't be foolish.”

Bucky shifted, willing himself to lie back down on the couch he'd woken up in. He vaguely noticed that on one side of the furniture was a bucket of water and bubbles and some sponges, one submerged and one over an edge of the couch that was bathed in blood.

“You do know there are people who clean these places?” Bucky spoke as he tried to find a way to sit down without having to bend over or exert too much force by bending his legs.

“No.”

“Well, now you know. Don't spend time cleaning these things.”

“It looks bad.”

“It's just blood… argh.”

Bucky arched as he made a very bad move and rested one of his hands on the back of the couch. He barely heard the woman sigh and then her footsteps approaching.

“No, no… I can.”

“God, what a stupid man.”

“What the fuck did you just-? Ah, ah, ahhhhh.”

The man hadn't even noticed when you came up behind him and pushed him to move before his head could process it. He fell noisily onto the couch and bit his lips to keep from moaning in pain.

“I like you better when you're quiet.”

Giving up the fight, Bucky let his body fall against the backrest and dropped his limp hands on either side of his legs. With his eyes closed, he heard a flutter of things on one side of him and guessed that the woman was digging through the things she had placed on the table. He barely had any memories of the night before when they arrived and most of them included a terrible pain that drove him into unconsciousness.

"Well, let's see…" the woman mumbled to herself and Bucky soon felt her hands moving over his bandaged abdomen.

It was instinct and he couldn't stop his left hand, metallic and dulled by the bloodstains that spread over his body, from clinging with superhuman strength to the wrists of the woman who had only intended to tend to him.

Even with his eyes closed, he heard her gasp in surprise and felt her tense in front of him. Her small hands, which had not the slightest chance before his exorbitant strength, stirred under his grip in slight movements. Without seeing her, he could tell she was so frightened she didn't know if she should keep shaking or stay still.

Bucky opened his eyes to realize that his instinct was right. The woman was pale with fright.

Sighing, the man loosened his grip until finally releasing her.

The woman fell backwards on the floor trying to get away from him.

That was the look he was used to seeing on all his victims.

Turning his head away, Bucky cleared his throat.

“Ask first next time.”

It was several seconds before the woman moved again. She had stood there, still and tense, watching him, waiting for any sudden movement to bolt. She moved closer to him on her knees, but not as close as she had been a few minutes ago. Her breathing was just beginning to become more leisurely until she finally seemed to have calmed down.

Bucky kept his gaze anywhere but on the small woman in front of him, who seemed to fear she would be swallowed alive.

“I'm going to-”

“Yes.”

That time, when the woman moved her hands back to the bandage around his abdomen, Bucky tensed, but kept his instincts to himself. He knew the woman had sensed that moment of hesitation, because she almost moved her hands away, but came closer again when nothing happened.

Thus Bucky allowed himself to be attended to, until he fell back asleep on the couch.

When the man woke up again, you had already eaten breakfast and finished washing the couch, except for the place where he was lying. You had also cleaned up the trail of blood he had left on the floor from the bathroom all the way back to the living room. You had tried to make everything in your reach neat, free of any mud or blood stains. And when you were done in the living room, you went to fix what was needed in the kitchen.

You were halfway through going to get your clothes when you heard him.

“Fuck, how the hell did you make it hurt more than it did before?”

You turned on your feet at the top of the stairs to see him as he leaned forward with a grimace.

“Maybe I wouldn't have had to double stitch you if you weren't such a moron.”

“Double stitch? Does that exist?”

“I don't know!”

“You double stitched me?”

You shrugged. “Just in case!”

“Argh… No fucking way.”

Dropping his head on the back of the couch, the man brought his right hand over his forehead in a weary gesture.

“Whatever. I left you some hot water in the shower and a rag. Try not to get your wound wet.”

He lowered his head to look at you, but you hurried on walking to the cleaning room.

That man was scary. And it was much scarier that you were in an almost-abandoned house in a ghost neighborhood alone with him. The chances were that if you shouted, no one would hear you; or if you did and someone did hear you, they would prefer to keep on walking. That's how troubled the place you were in looked.

You were surprised that your brother had sent someone like that to look for you. At least he would have made a little more effort to find someone more decent. You had to crawl to get you both out of that wrecked house, when it should've been the other way around. As you folded your clothes, you wondered where your brother had gotten that man from.

You were heading back to the room when you heard a snort down the hall. Against the alarms in your head, you approached the hallway to see towards the back, into the living room, as the man had gotten up from the couch and had walked that way about seven steps with the goal of reaching the stairs. At the pace he was going, you wondered how long it had taken him to get there. And with the winces of pain he was making, you knew it was taking all his strength not to make sudden movements.

You sighed as you dropped your clothes on the basket next to the door. That man was going to give you green gray hair.

“Let me help you,” you spoke once you were near him, at the top of the stairs.

It really wasn't that many stairs, only ten steps were separating the man from that bathroom. You didn't know why that kind of platform was there, instead of just making a flat floor for the whole house being so big, but you couldn't judge an architect's decisions.

And yet, even though it was only a few stairs, it seemed like a hundred when you had a bullet wound in your abdomen.

When you started to descend, the man said nothing, just watched you intently as your feet went one in front of the other holding onto the handrail. His deadly gaze caused you to shiver slightly because he looked like a lion about to eat a gazelle.

Still, you stopped at a safe distance.

“May I?”

The man kept his gaze on yours for a while longer, as if he had to weigh every possibility in a short time. You wonder what he saw in you that he had to be so alert. You barely reached his chin, what could you do without him stopping you two seconds before? You didn't even have the option to think of anything.

So when he sighed, you realized he had given in.

Bucky took a pleasant nap on the bed in the master bedroom when he finished showering, if anyone could call what he had done a shower. He ran a washcloth with warm water all over his body, with the tiniest amount of soap and unable to wash his hair. The woman downstairs had offered to do it for him, but Bucky didn't even consider that possibility.

Still, he felt fresh enough to really rest for a while.

And by the time he awoke, moonlight was filtering through the curtains.

It was daring to get out of bed. But it was worth it when he reached the kitchen and the smell of meat made his stomach growl loudly. He hadn't eaten anything for over twenty-four hours. He hadn't even accepted the breakfast the woman made because he still felt as if at any moment he was going to vomit up to the air.

But at that moment… at that moment….

“Ah, you finally woke up.”

“How long did I sleep?”

“About twelve hours.”

Bucky moved his head to look at the clock above the entrance to the kitchen, and yes, it was already eight o'clock at night.

“How are you feeling? How's the wound?”

The man stirred when he heard the woman's voice nearby. She had moved until she reached the kitchen entrance, not a step more, not a step less.

“It doesn't hurt as much as it did before.”

“That's good,” the woman shook her head in a nod and walked back into the kitchen. “Sit down. You need to eat.”

Bucky obeyed silently, because dealing with food he didn't want to grumble. He heard the sound of dishes and silverware before the woman came out with two large plates in her hands. When Bucky saw what she had cooked, his mouth dropped open in surprise.

“I hope you like meat,” the woman commented in a light voice, but at Bucky's silence she began to perspire. “I also cooked a vegan option if you-”

“No,” Bucky cut her off, moving his hands to grab the silverware. “I definitely like meat.”

Bucky didn't notice how the woman's shoulders relaxed as she watched him savor each thing on his plate nor how she kept her gaze fixed on him to make sure he didn't choke on how quickly the food was being stuffed.

And when they were both finished eating, the woman pulled out a bag that had been sitting on a chair and set it on the table, bringing it closer to Bucky, but not too close.

At the man's arched eyebrow, she said, “Medication.”

Bucky's eyes lit up, but he shook his head quickly.

“Why the hell didn't you give this to me before?”

“Because there was none before.”

Bucky frowned. “And where did you get this?”

As she answered, the woman got up to pick up the dishes and carry them to the scrubber. “There's a store about five blocks from here. I had some money so I bought it. It seemed necessary.”

The woman went to grab the silverware Bucky had used, not noticing the man's steady gaze on her, when his metal hand stopped her from taking the silverware away.

She unconsciously cringed at the sudden movement, and sought the man's gaze in alarm. Bucky felt such overwhelming anger make its way inside his chest that he didn't even think twice before letting his body act first.

“You did what?”

The woman sputtered a couple of times, like a fish out of water, before replying, “I just went for meds. So you won't get the wound infected.”

“You left this house alone? Are you out of your mind?”

Bucky raised his voice as he rose suddenly from his chair. His metal hand pulled the woman's wrist and slammed it against her chest in one violent motion. She barely managed to take a deep breath before tears welled up in her eyes.

“Do you even have any idea what I had to go through to get you here? And you're telling me you walked out of this house like it was nothing? Alone?!”

Still cringing at the tone of voice Bucky was using, the woman replied shakily, “But nothing happened. I'm fine…”

“Ah! Right! And how can you be sure that no one followed you here? How can you be sure that you didn't compromise our location?”

“I swear I took a good look when I left and arrived. There was no one… There wasn't… Please just... let me go.”

Bucky pursed his lips and took one more detailed look at the woman's contracted face. He angrily let go of her.

She didn't hesitate for a second to start up the stairs.

“Just take the fucking meds,” she spat from afar, and the next thing Bucky heard was the slamming of a room door.

Staring at the empty space through which the woman had disappeared, Bucky took a few seconds to calm his breathing and emotions. Now he had to make sure they weren't going to be ambushed by surprise while he slept and the two were distracted. He could go stay all the rest of the night in the camera room after placing a motion bomb over every entrance to the house… but he was too tired to do that, and he most likely wouldn't be able to find the necessary items in that house to make those traps as invisible as possible. The only thing he could do was to sit in that armchair with a shotgun in his hands and wait. Hope that it was true that no one had followed her.

Bucky sighed. Fuck, he had to learn to manage his attitude.

His eyes fell on the bag on the table and he felt the tiniest whip of guilt inside his chest. It disappeared as quick as lightning. He picked up the bag to rummage inside to find four boxes and a piece of paper.

He shook the bag on the table and the medications fell free. He grabbed the paper with a frown and the whip of guilt returned as he read what had been written in black ink:

“Stranger,

I'm writing this note to tell you how you should take these medications.

The blue one is to prevent infection, so you should take it every 12 hours.

The red one is for pain. If it hurts too much, take it every 6 hours, and if it doesn't hurt too much, take it every 12 hours.

Yellow is an analgesic, it will most likely put you to sleep. Take it when the pain is unbearable.

And the green box is vitamins. Take one after each meal.

These boxes will last for at least a week. Hopefully by that time the wound will have healed much more.

Take them judiciously.”

Bucky stared at that piece of paper as if it were to blame for all his misfortunes. In spite of everything, the woman did try to care for his wound, even if he did nothing but reject the support she gave him.

The sound of something similar to a bell brought Bucky out of the depths of his head.

It was the satellite phone.

Bucky moved to the kitchen, where the sound was coming from. There, beside the blender, was the phone. He wondered if the woman had used it before.

He picked up the device and held it up to his ear in silence.

“Barnes?”

“Jacob.”

“Fucking shit. Why are you answering until now? I've been calling for a while now.”

So she hadn't used the phone.

“I was asleep.”

“What?”

“Long story.”

The man on the other end of the line barely took a deep breath.

“Are you with her?”

“Yes.”

“And she's okay?“”

“Yes.”

“Ah,” the man exclaimed in relief. “When are you going to bring her in?”

“You know I have to wait at least five days before I leave the house.”

“Argh, yes, yeah, right. And have you two got enough? Food? Clothes? Has she eaten well? Have you seen her take care of herself?”

“She's fine. She's more than capable of fending for herself. Stop worrying.”

“It's easy for you to ask me that when it's not your family member who was kidnapped.”

Bucky twisted his lips. “Why are you calling me and not Alejandro?”

“He left early. Seems there was a problem with the New York headquarters.”

“Ah, the troubled mercenary society.”

“Yeah, you should have seen the look on his face from these brats again,” Jacob let out a short laugh that was not reciprocated by Bucky. “Well,” he throat cleared, “let me know if there's any news.”

“Okay.”

And Bucky hung up.

His gaze lingered on the white kitchen wall before returning his attention to the colorful boxes on the dining room counter.

Fuck he was going to apologize to the woman.

You were stunned when you woke up the next morning and breakfast was ready and there was no sign of the man anywhere near the kitchen. The same thing happened at noon and at night.

You wanted to meet him somewhere to thank him, but at the same time you wanted to never see him again. However, what you thought about most was his wound and that you should've changed his bandage more than six hours ago. But the man was nowhere to be found. He would only show up to cook something and then vanish.

Still, you tried to comfort yourself with the thought that he had taken the gauze and bandages, because you couldn't find the first aid kit anywhere either.

At some point you thought that would be a good thing, not to find him even by accident for the rest of the days you had to spend in that house. You didn't think you would be able to keep up with his temper, clearly driven by emotions he couldn't control. You'd better take that time to take care of yourself and try to process everything that had happened instead of continuing to repress it, as always.

But… every time you tried to think about what had happened, what it had been like to be in that mansion in the middle of the trees, in the middle of nowhere, a suffocating sensation would make its way from your stomach to your chest and throat, and suddenly you felt short of breath. You couldn't spend more than a minute trying to cope with those emotions and memories you kept locked up in your memory because bringing them up made you feel like you were choking on air.

Maybe it was still too soon.

Yes, maybe it was.

It was already close to midnight when you finished organizing the kitchen. It seemed like the meds were kicking in if the man could spend so much time on his feet cooking and then washing dishes.

Remembering the anger that had sailed across his face the night before still gave you chills. You were trying to get that image out of your head.

You were on your way to the yard when you heard a sound down the hall. There were a couple of doors in that house that you had seen around but had no idea what was behind them, and now you were hearing a sound behind one of them.

Thinking of the man, you moved and walked to open the door, encountering stairs descending to the left and a light at the bottom of the stairs. The sound repeated, and with the door open you could also identify music.

You carefully descended and followed the hallway to the left after descending. Whatever it was you were expecting to see, a gymnasium opened up in front of your eyes. And in the middle of it all, the man, punching a large sandbag as if he didn't have a bullet wound in his abdomen.

You didn't know if you had made a noise or he had a sixth sense, but suddenly he moved his head and his eyes met yours. His expression denoted nothing but indifference and he promptly hit the bag again.

“You do know you have a large wound in your abdomen?” was the first thing you said as you stepped through the glass door.

The man didn't even turn around.

“You could open up the wound.”

“I've been here all day and nothing's happened to me.”

“Yeah, lucky you. Watch how you stretch to hit that.”

The man stopped to look at you when you got too close trying to see his injured side. Feeling prey to his intimidating stare, you backed up a few steps.

“Check it out if you want to so badly,” he turned around to face you and raised his arms waiting for you to come closer. You had barely noticed that he wasn't wearing a shirt.

“No. Did you change your bandages?”

“Yes. The wound is fine. I haven't even had to take the pills.”

You frowned at him as he went back to focusing on his sandbag. “Not even the vitamins?”

The man gave you a sidelong glance before striking again.

“Oh, c'mon,” you exclaimed in annoyance. “At least make my act of recklessness worthwhile.”

His gaze traveled to your face again, his expression incredulous and somewhat angry. He shook his head as if he didn't credit your words and went back to focusing on his blows. One after another. One, two, three, four.

“It really doesn't hurt?”

This time he hit the sack so hard with his metal arm that it flew off and crashed against the wall in a thud.

You barely cowered in place.

“Take off the bandages so you're sure.”

Again he turned his body toward you, his posture nonchalant even though his features were hard, like polished marble.

“Stop,” you raised your hands, “I'm sorry.”

The man sighed, lowering his shoulders for the first time at will. The only times you had ever seen him relaxed had been when he slept.

He began to untangle the bandages around the knuckles of his right hand as he approached the sack he had pushed out of its holder.

“What's your name?”

“Huh?”

“Are you deaf?” the man turned with a frown, but quickly turned away taking a deep breath. “What's your name?”

“Uhm… Y/N. Didn't you already know that?”

“Yes. But I'd forgotten.”

“Ah.”

“I'm sorry, Y/N.”

“Why?”

“I'm not used to… whatever it is you do,” he waved his hand vaguely as if trying to clarify a point.

“You mean help you?”

“Yeah, whatever.”

“Don't you get help very often?”

“I work alone. That's what I mean.”

“Ah, that makes sense.”

“Well, anyway. I'm sorry I yelled at you last night. I shouldn't have lost control.”

“Yeah…”

“And you shouldn't have gone out on your own like that. Don't ever do that again,” his accusing index finger pointed at you.

“Okay. I'm sorry.”

He sighed and turned around again to look at the sandbag on the floor. He had already removed his bandages and his knuckles looked somewhat swollen, the red color standing out against the olive of his skin. If he'd been like that all day, he must have at least some pain in that hand. You frowned watching him there, not moving.

He couldn't bend over.

Maybe he wasn't so sincere in saying it didn't hurt.

“I can lift it,” you spoke before you even thought it through.

The man, whose name you hadn't asked yet, turned to look at you with an ingrown eyebrow. You tried not to think too hard as he swept his eyes over your figure and then looked back down at the sandbag on the floor, probably taller than you and certainly heavier. But you could do it. Besides, you couldn't allow him to make that effort if there was a chance of once again opening up the wound.

When he took a step back and turned to look at you, your palms sweated. Maybe you really couldn't…

No, you could. You definitely could. It was a piece of cake.

Under his watchful eye you approached the sandbag. You looked at it with narrowed eyes, like your nemesis. You moved your arms, wanting to loosen your shoulders a bit before overexerting yourself lifting the thing, and at that moment you heard a short, thinly disguised laugh through a cough.

When you turned to see him, he kept coughing like it was nothing and turned to walk to another side of the gym.

Ha, how funny.

You turned around to focus on your task and, well, it was crunch time. You felt so determined to shut him up that you didn't even think it was the first time you'd seen an emotion other than indifference and anger in him.

You hugged the sack and gathering all your strength you moved back.

Nothing moved.

You tried again.

Nothing.

You snorted as you stood up for the fifth time and saw that the bag had barely moved less than a foot from its initial state. You rounded the object and sat down in front of it. You swung your legs over and planted your feet on the side of the bag and began to push hard.

You could move it. Not much, but you could move it.

You kept doing it until it was under the support where it had been hanging before the man's anger sent it flying. You put your head up and realized that the support was too high for you to push the bag up. It was impossible.

“Leave it,” you heard the man say.

You found him across the gym in front of you with a bottle in his hands. He took a big sip as he watched you in amusement.

Then, without a word, he moved a little to his left and pressed a button on what appeared to be a joystick. There were many other small buttons and levers that you had absolutely no idea what they could be for in a gym.

Then, you heard something over your head. You watched in amazement at what the man's button was doing.

The bastard had let you try to do something he knew was impossible for you to do, knowing that there was a stupid button that could do it for you. From the back of the gym, a sandbag was moving from the ceiling to where you were, guided by the mechanical system above your head. You barely noticed then that, in the shape of a circle, there was a kind of rail along which the brackets hanging from the ceiling moved.

You wanted to choke someone.

When you looked back at the man, he had his lips cocked in a smug smile. Damn him.

“I'm not going to offer to do anything for you again,” you exclaimed as you stood up and proudly decided to walk out of there with what little dignity you had left.

“Oh no, you should keep doing it. It's very entertaining.”

You stuck out your middle finger at him as you walked in the direction of the exit without turning to look at him. You heard more real laughter when you were far enough away.

It was quite late at night when Bucky came out of the gym. It had only been a few hours since you had left and he thought maybe he should follow in your footsteps and go rest, but for some reason he decided to stay a while longer.

On his way out, he saw the sandbag on the floor again and was too surprised by the urge he had to crack a smile. But he restrained himself.

In the house the lights were still on. It was almost midnight. Bucky had prepared dinner with the goal of getting you to eat and go to bed, because it seemed that every time you ate you had to go to sleep afterwards, even if it was just a short nap. But it looked like that wasn't going to be the case this time.

When he came into the living room he found you lying on the big couch in front of the TV on. Some news channel was playing in the background and it looked like you were deep in concentration listening because you didn't move when he approached.

“What are you doing awake still?” Bucky spoke with a frown before he could repent. “It's almost-”

You were asleep.

Bucky stopped at the side of the large piece of furniture when he saw you with your eyes closed and hugging one of the cushions, with half a sheet over your legs. Of course, it was going to be weird that you were still awake.

Bucky had always seen you walking, alert, moving around, always looking for something to occupy you. Your moments of rest were always away from him. However, looking to the front where the glass table was, Bucky quickly noticed the rag on the table and a small bucket on the floor.

So even all tired out you had been looking for something to do.

Bucky sighed shaking his head.

He took the rag resting on the neatest glass he had ever seen, along with the bucket filled with soapy water, and carried them to the laundry room where he put everything back in its place.

When you returned, you had shifted on the couch and looked like you wanted to find a position to stretch out because your body was more tilted than before.

Bucky turned off the TV which had low sound and stood in front of you on the couch.

He couldn't carry you to the bed without risking too much force that would compromise his injury and seeing how worried you had been about that earlier, he preferred to avoid straining too much. For some reason, he had the feeling that you would prefer to sleep on the couch if it would keep the wound in his abdomen from opening up.

So, he opted for the safest option. He brought down some pillows from the master bedroom along with another larger, thicker sheet. He planted himself in front of you thinking about the best way to accommodate you so you wouldn't wake up sore, although the cushions on that piece of furniture weren't as hard as the ones in the dining room.

Finally he opted to follow the direction your own body was taking. He nestled a pillow over the armrest of the couch, punching it and molding it until it looked comfortable enough. Then he ran his left hand carefully down your neck and his right hand circled your shoulders until it reached your back. He moved you slightly forward keeping you stable and then began to let your body slowly fall onto the couch.

When you were lying flat, he gently pulled his left hand out and stood up. Quietly and very carefully, he removed the small cushion you were hugging, and before you could make any grimace, he rolled a larger pillow between your arms. Bucky watched you sigh in contentment.

Finally, he pulled back the small, thin blanket between your legs and arranged the large sheet he had brought that almost doubled as a bedspread. It would probably get you warm in a few seconds, but that was good, because the nights were cold in that house.

Finished with his task, Bucky nodded to himself.

It was only after he finished that he really realized what he had done. He frowned, watching your placid face as you rested comfortably.

Why had he done that, without even a second thought?

Bucky suddenly felt the need to run away. Now he wanted to undo all that because tomorrow you would wake up and surely ask questions he wouldn't know how to answer. That he wouldn't want to answer. Maybe he could play dumb and say that's how he'd found you when he'd left the gym. Surely you'd been so drunk on sleep that you hadn't even realized what you'd done.

Maybe that had happened to Bucky. Maybe he'd been so drunk on exhaustion that he hadn't realized what he was doing until he'd done it. Yes, surely.

Inside his chest he again recognized the feeling of guilt he'd had when he saw the paper you'd given him with the pills, and that only increased as he remembered he hadn't taken a single one.

It was guilt that made him move like that.

Yes, that was probably it.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes angst #bucky fic #bucky x you #bucky barnes #bucky fluff #bucky x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction

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eusion · 1 month

Note

hi!! i love love love your stories... can I request a meet-cute she fell first he fell harder situation with k, please!🥹🖤 tysm <3

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪the last train at 25 o'clock ⌒☆

pairing ⌒☆ k x reader

word count ⌒☆ 1.2k

note ⌒☆ thank u sm anon! that means so much genuinely...... this req really sparked my creativity tonight i had to do it so quick!!! i hope u enjoy <333 this is not proofread btw..

the last train leaves the platform leaving two people behind

the echo of the bell sinks into the night

if we hold hands and look up at the starry sky, you and i will fly alone through the night

rapid puffs of air from your labored breathing can be seen in the cold of the night, the fast steps faltering as you become exhausted from sprinting to your local train station. you severely underestimated the time it’d take you to get from your apartment to the station, leaving your hair in a nest and your scarf nearly falling off of your shoulders. the sound of your luggage rolling against the pavement becomes quiet as you come to a halt in front of the empty train tracks. your eyes dart quickly from your phone to the sign above that says 'train has departed'. you can barely catch your breath, not letting yourself get a break as you mentally beat yourself up for your poor time management, cursing under your breath.

"i knew i should have left earlier..."

the sounds of your own battle with yourself completely made you deaf to the other pair of footsteps running towards the same tracks. you look up through your eyelashes, not expecting to see such a tall man right next to you.

his cheeks were flush, breath not as heavy as yours was, hair falling nicely against his forehead with some strands blowing oh so softly. he goes through the same routine: checking his phone, looking up at the sign and then mentally cursing at himself.

it was only a few seconds later he glances over, finally noticing you as you both bare your own luggage, sharing the same fuck up that could of been avoided.

a smile grows on the man's face, finally realizing how ridiculous this whole situation is. his cheeks lift up and his plump lips even out to frame his white teeth.

his head tilts, furrowing his brows as he opens his mouth.

"looks like we're stuck here.. until the next train at least"

"i think this was the last train.."

you respond, head hanging low as you shuffle your feet together. you're not sure why you're doing this.

the feeling of shame from missing your train?

being nervous about talking to this random handsome man?

your head picks up at the sound of a large sigh. the man looks like he's about to lose it... his laughs becoming more frequent. hysterical, almost.

"hah, i live two hours away... no way i can commute back, and this late?"

he finds himself walking towards a bench as if he's given up on everything he's ever worked towards. your legs follow suit as you place yourself down right next to him, leaving a little room to breathe.

when you looked up at the sky the stars shined the brightest that night, planes blinking out of your line of sight. you've never seen this kind of view from your apartment window, stars always being clouded by the city lights that polluted it. maybe tonight was supposed to happen.

"i can stay here with you if you would like... i wouldn't want to keep you waiting out in the cold by yourself"

your tone was soft and quiet, your fingers fidgeting at your knit sweater. god knows that out of the both of you, you were definitely the coldest sitting out here. how you would kill to just take the next fifteen minutes walking home to the warmth of your room than sit out here for however long. of course, something, or rather someone, begged you to stay.

"that'd be nice. spending it with someone is far better than alone"

"what's your name?"

"yudai, you?"

"y/n"

your conversation was exchanged through several short sentences and soft sighs. at this point your ears were threatening to freeze off of your head. you kept your smile wide and you suddenly cared about how your hair fell against your face as you were talking to him.

yudai decided to call his friend to come pick him up from the station while you two were exchanging conversations. all you could think about was how you had two hours left together, which did not feel like nearly enough.

you kept your hands in your pockets, filled with hand warmers that you brought yourself plus the ones yudai gave to you on hand. you already know it's going to take you an arm and a leg to get you to throw these things away once you get home.

'do i like a stranger?'

a crush seemed like a better term. you didn't want to label your feelings so quickly, anyone would feel butterflies for yudai. but this moment seemed too niche and intimate for you to not feel a single thing for him.

"how long until your friend gets here?"

"want to get rid of me that badly?"

you scoff, bumping at his shoulder playfully.

"of course"

"about forty-five minutes"

it was interesting seeing how easy you could get along with yudai in such a short amount of time. the night seemed endless to the both of you. watching airplanes fly away and listening to the sounds of the occasional car driving past felt like something out of a movie.

you didn't want it to end, and neither did he.

twenty minutes fly by, your head now comfortably resting on his shoulder as he rants about his own life back in his hometown. your silent nods and hums are appreciated by him, he knows you're exhausted at this point.

god also knows you would have invited him back to your apartment in a heartbeat if you could, spending these cold nights under the warmth of your heated blankets.

"thank you for spending your time here with me.i really appreciate it, y/n"

quiet hums turned into soft breathing on your end, eyes fluttered shut with your lips slightly parted.

his cold, white hands maneuver your loose hair around your ear. yudai was freezing, even with you right next to him. all of his hand warmers made their way over to your pockets, his own feeling barren and empty. softly, his head leans on top of yours, careful not to disturb your rest.

he looks back up at the sky, the moon shining the brightest he's ever seen, light stretching over the pitch black like a panorama. it feels like he's reenacted this scene a thousand times over in his head. oh, how he wishes he could have more than two hours with you.

his heart is beating the hardest at this point, afraid it might wake you up.

“ten more minutes.." he mumbles after checking on the text notification from his friend.

his head still leans comfortably against you as he begins to rest his own eyes. the hand warmers have turned cold at this point with the only thing keeping yudai from freezing was the scarf shared around both of your necks. his body scrunches in towards you, wanting to spend these last ten minutes in a shared silence. yudai is only slightly worried about his friend seeing him cuddled up with a random woman, worried that his friend might think he's the creep.

minutes began to feel like seconds when his friend texts him again, "five minutes".

but he doesn't bother to open his eyes, hoping to bask a bit more in this moment. his chest puffs up, slowly breathing out before letting out a whisper.

"let's meet each other here again, y/n."

#&team fluff #&team scenarios #&team #&team imagines #&team x reader #&team k

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beautifulchris · 8 months

Text

broken promise

pairing: seo changbin x fem!reader, seo changbin x jo serim

summary: what happens when you see your childhood best friend after 10 years, knowing there was a promise of love between you two?

genre: angst, fluff, childhood best friends to friends!au, non idol!au, established relationship!au, happy ending!!

wc: 2,9k

tw: reader's boss sucks, playful threats

notes: 🐭 anon this is for you! i hope i did your idea justice. italic is reader's thoughts! is that an open ending? yes, yes it is. feedback is always appreciated!

networks: @kflixnet @k-labels @straykidsland @kwritersworld

permanent tag list: @soobin-chois @exfolitae @linos-catnip @prettymiye0n

stray kids tag list: @raethethey

You've been typing on that computer for the last three hours, yet the current task was not quite completed. Between the short deadlines and electricity mishaps, today hasn’t been good to you. Not that it was any of your boss’ business, as he put it a couple hours prior, and I quote: “I do not care if it doesn’t work, you better work this out quickly if you want to keep this job!”

You did try, for the customers, but at the end of the day, you were feeling exhausted and helpless. Useless.

It hadn’t always been like that. When you were a kid, you’d always help your classmates and younger kids. If you witnessed, even one of your classmates, bully anyone, in recess or anywhere else for that matter, you’d jump into the fight to protect the weak without a second thought. You’d feel powerful and useful. Changbin admired you for that.

Changbin.

Your childhood best friend.

He was part of the weak, but you made sure he was untouchable. Let’s just say you scared your fair share of bullies. A few years passed and you were inseparable; your parents were close friends so you’d spend the weekends and holidays together besides school.

Two weeks after Changbin turned fourteen, you were both seated on a rug on the beach, enjoying the summer holidays together at his parents’ beach house. The sun was setting, people were leaving to go dine somewhere else. You turned to stare at his side profile. He had a soft smile on, the sunset reflecting on his dark orbs, the light making his skin golden.

“Binnie.”

“Yeah?” he replied, facing the baby pink and light yellow clouds above the ocean.

“If we don’t find love in like 10 years, will we get married?”

He laughed for a good minute. “What are you on about?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted, “I guess the atmosphere has something to do with it.” He hummed. “But do you agree?”

“Ask me again.”

You nudged him. “You’re not gonna laugh at me this time?”

He looked over his shoulder in your direction, lips pressed as to suppress a giggle. “I’ll try.”

“If we don’t find love by the age 25 or so, will we get married?”

He faked thinking, a hand on his chin. “Sure, we can. I’m certain you’ll find someone by then, though.”

“Me? Why?” you asked, curious. “I thought you were the one that was gonna find someone first.”

He shrugged. “You’re an amazing girl. If you think I will, why propose this?”

“Just felt like it. Thanks for the compliment Binnie, you’re the best best friend I could ask for.”

“I know,” he smirked while you pulled your tongue out.

A week after that, your parents left the city, taking you with them. For years, you couldn’t see your best friend, who eventually became a childhood best friend as you grew up apart and stopped talking.

The drive home from work was spent singing your heart out to your karaoke playlist to evacuate the stress. You were seriously contemplating quitting your job when you opened the door to your parents’ house.

You let out a long sigh and the voices quieted down in the kitchen. “I’m home!”

Thank your lucky stars it was the weekend. A good shower and—

“Honey, come in the kitchen please!” You didn’t like the tone your mom used, it reminded you of the day she told you you’d have to pack your bags and leave your whole childhood behind.

What you discovered upon entering the room was far from everything you could expect.

A young man was standing there, strangely looking like…

Wait.

What?

Seo Changbin, in the flesh, was sitting on a chair next to your mom. Your dad was propped up against the counter.

“Look who’s here! Surprise!” Your mom’s excited voice, your dad’s big smile with a thumbs up and Changbin’s awkward stance… that was too much.

You mumbled about needing a shower and did just that. After about 30 minutes of washing yourself and overthinking, you came back to the kitchen where they were still talking, except it was almost time for dinner.

“Hi,” you greeted everyone. “Sorry about earlier, it was a shitty day.”

Your mom got up and hugged you. Her hugs always comforted you.

“I’m sorry bun, do you want to talk about it?”

“Not right now. I see that an old soul has joined us.”

Changbin got up. “Hey Y/N, how have you been?”

He wasn’t like you remembered. He looked like he spent the last decade at the gym. It was a nice view. Although you hoped he didn’t do it because you weren’t there anymore to protect him.

He seemed to hear your thoughts. “Ah, yeah, I work out a bit. I’ve become what you could call a gym rat.”

Shaking your head—were you staring???—, you cleared your throat. “I’m alright. How are you?”

“I’m good, thanks. I asked if I could stay for a few days, and your parents said yes. I hope you don’t mind?”

“It’s nothing Changbin-ah, you’re family!” your mom chimed in.

If I don’t mind? We haven’t seen each other in ten years and you’re appearing in the kitchen out of nowhere after I thought about you on my way back from work. But do I mind?

“I don’t. It’s nice to see you again.”

“Likewise.”

“I’m starving,” your dad said as he clapped his hands. “Who wants salad?”

“Dad, seriously?” You needed something more than a salad right now.

“Just kidding, your mom made Changbin’s favorite!”

Typical. You turned to your childhood best friend. “So, how are you here?”

“Turns out our parents still talk to each other, so when I said I wanted to come to this city, they arranged something for me.”

“When your mom told me I was so happy! We haven’t seen you in so long. I knew Y/N would be delighted to see you too. You’re welcomed in our home any time, always.”

He bowed to your mom. “Thanks, ms.”

“It's nothing! As I said before, we only have two rooms, so we put a mattress in Y/N’s bedroom. Are you both ok with that?”

Oh, I haven’t thought of that.

“Sure.”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, love,” your mom told her husband, “it reminds me of old times, when they were inseparable.” She turned to you and Changbin. “We always thought you’d end up together, especially with your silly—sorry, endearing—promise of marriage at 25, was it? That will be next year.”

Changbin looked lost while you were uncomfortable with the memory, putting your head in your hands. As classic parents, they enjoyed reminding you of your awkward past.

Changbin laid down on the thick mattress while you did the same on your comfortable bed. You stared at the ceiling, your hands crossed over your stomach.

“I see you’ve kept your promise.”

What? How could he even—

“You said you’ll always hang that OneRepublic poster. It hasn’t aged.”

Ah.

“But we did.”

He chuckled. “We did indeed. I came here for an appointment with a client tomorrow morning. And to surprise my girlfriend. What are the odds of her being in the same town as you?”

You felt your heart shatter at his words. Girlfriend.

“Why not go to her directly?”

There was a lump forming in your throat.

“And missing the chance to see you again? No, thank you. I didn’t forget about you Y/Nie, I’m sorry. I’m really glad I get to see you again and I genuinely would like for us to be friends again. It might not be like before, but we can work something out, what do you think?”

The silence was loud as he waited for an answer. He could’ve come to his girlfriend without seeing you and you would’ve never known he was here. But he chose to be here in your house. It had to mean something, right?

Finally, after gathering enough courage, you replied. “Yeah. We can be friends. Are you meeting her soon?”

“Cool,” he smiled. “Yeah, I’ll wait for her outside her house tomorrow, after work.”

“Uh, this is your plan? Waiting for her at her house is a bit creepy. Why don’t you ask her to go somewhere?”

“Ah, you’re right. I can send her a message to meet at a café or something.”

You nodded, even if he couldn’t see you clearly from the floor. “Tell her you have a surprise prepared for her.”

“Where should we go? Do you know any cute and romantic places?” he asked as he typed on his phone.

“Sure. There’s a super cute café a few blocks away, its name is Lovestay. I’m sure she’ll love it.”

What am I doing?

“Thanks Y/Nie, you’re the best.”

“Of course Binnie, I’m here for you. Always.”

“You know, about the promise of marriage… I honestly forgot about it. And since I have a girlfriend, the promise doesn’t stand anymore… right?”

You don’t know how you’re keeping your composure, because you have a strong desire to cry.

“No, it doesn’t. It was only if we were both single, and even so, that would be too weird with the circumstances.”

“I agree. I’m glad we’re on the same page.”

“Me too, Binnie.”

You spent most of the night catching up, recounting each other's anecdotes of your school years, explaining your respective jobs, spilling the latest tea. The more you talked, the less the situation overwhelmed you and the more you felt at ease.

Changbin became a music producer, with a flourishing soundcloud account. He was now a pillar at the gym, even giving tips to newbies. He loved his job. He loved his girlfriend. He was happy.

In contrast to you, he had his life together.

You hated your boss. You were single. You were still hung up on your childhood best friend. You were unhappy.

Seeing him had filled you with joy until you learned about his girl, and you were even helping him surprise her. What a loser.

The next day, he went to his appointment according to plan, then he came back for lunch happily. After that, he changed for his date and insisted on showing you his outfit. It was simple, yet complimenting him nicely.

“Do I look good enough?”

You look perfect.

“Yes, you look fine. Now go, it’s better if you’re there before her.”

“You’re right.” He was fidgeting nervously. “Can you come with me?”

You shook your head in disbelief, clearly judging him. “Are you out of your mind?”

“What?” he asked, surprised by your reaction.

“Who goes to see their girlfriend and brings another girl with them? Now, go.”

“Ah, you’re right.”

“You said that already,” you sighed, pushing him out of the house.

“Ok, I’m going. Wish me luck!”

“Good luck kid!” your dad shouted from the stairs.

He came back late that night. He told you all about it in detail. Details you did not wish to know about. But he seemed genuinely happy, which warmed your heart, instead of breaking it this time.

Your mom had asked you about your job, and you went on an angry rant about your boss, then Changbin and your feelings for him. First, she apologized for bringing him here without asking you first and, therefore, without knowing how you felt about him. Second, she cursed your boss out and told you to do whatever you felt comfortable doing. She would support you either way.

You thanked her and told her you would think about it, and that it was ok for Changbin to be here even if it felt weird.

You had spent the remainder of the day overthinking about your old friend and what he meant to you. After a thorough analysis, it struck you that the fact you kept the promise unconsciously made you turn down every possibility of a romance. You blamed the timing every time.

You also came to the conclusion it was perhaps more of a nostalgic, longing feeling than love. It wasn’t like you spent the last decade heartbreakingly waiting for him to return to you. You realized you had been missing your best friend, not your crush.

It was sunday morning, and you were slowly waking up.

The second you opened your eyes, you were met with Changbin’s wide opened ones looking at you. “You’re finally awake!”

“It’s an illusion,” you groaned, closing them again.

“I was thinking and I’d love for you to meet her! Please?”

“Who?”

Friendly reminder: you just woke up and were far from your daily eight hours of sleep.

“My girlfriend, you know, the love of my life.”

“Right. Sure. Is she ok with it though?”

“Of course, she actually asked for it.” You opened your eyes again, staring straight at him.

“She did?” He nodded. “Don’t tell me you talked about me yesterday?!”

He blatantly ignored your question. “She invited us to her place. Let’s get dressed and go!”

“Wait, right now?”

“Yeah, why?”

“It’s ten in the morning on a sunday, give me time to adjust.”

“You haven’t changed. Come on,” he got to his feet, “get up!”

You whined, holding your blanket tightly. “Give me five minutes.”

“Don’t make me put you out of your own bed.”

“Don’t you dare.” You put a finger up and frowned.

“I really want to, though,” he pouted.

“Do it and I’ll make sure you never see the light of day ever again,” you threatened.

“You can’t hurt me, I’m all buff now.”

He contracted his muscles and you laughed loudly. “I could still take you.”

“Try me.”

You smiled. “In five minutes.”

“Your five minutes were up two minutes ago.”

“You were counting?!”

“Well, yeah.”

You crossed your arms, pouting. “Fraud.”

“You’re a fraud,” he countered as he rolled his eyes playfully.

“Let me sleep!!”

“No.”

Twenty minutes later, you were out of the comfort of your house and walking alongside Changbin to see his girlfriend.

You were walking like a condemned woman while he was making little happy noises and jumping around.

It was definitely too early for you.

You took the bus for about fifteen minutes, then walked five more minutes. She lived in an apartment on the third floor, at least that was where Changbin was knocking.

A beautiful woman answered the door soon after. Long black hair, soft skin and features, a little bit shorter than your friend, cute smile.

For a moment, you stared at her without saying a word. You were in awe at how pretty she looked.

“Y/N,” Changbin called, clearing his throat, “I present you Serim, my girlfriend. Serim,” he turned to her, “this is Y/N, my childhood best friend.”

Snapping out of it, you raised your hand for her to shake but she hugged you instead. It took you and Changbin by surprise, the look you two shared confirmed it.

“Binnie talked about you so much, I was impatient to meet you!” She let go of you. “Sorry, I should've asked first,” she whispered, smiling sweetly at you. “Please, come in!”

She moved away for you to enter, which you did, Changbin following suit, an amused smile on.

“Do you want something to drink?” Serim asked after closing the door.

“Water would be nice, please.”

“Me too love,” Changbin said before getting closer to her and kissing her temple.

“Be right back, make yourself at home!” Serim grinned before disappearing into the kitchen.

You entered the living room and sat on the dark green couch, admiring the room. There were plants on either side of the soft and comfortable couch, a long and packed library on the side, a big tv screen in front with leds behind it and a collage of posters on the other side and all around the large door leading to the kitchen and entrance.

She came back soon after with the drinks, put them on the table then sat next to you. Changbin sat on the armchair next to her.

“Y/N, I’ve heard so much about you! I found out we were in the same town when I moved in three months ago. Binnie spent all this time organizing his trip.”

“Yeah, I had the chance to get the rendezvous yesterday,” he added.

“You were lucky," you nodded. "Serim, you have a lot of style by the way, I adore your living room.”

“Thank you! Changbin is actually no stranger to the decor, he helped with the posters.”

“Good job guys, it's so cool! So, how long have you been together?”

“Yesterday marked our first year together,” Changbin said, looking at his girl lovingly. She took his hand in hers and turned back to you.

“Of course, he didn't say a word. Thanks for contributing to the surprise, Y/N.”

“I'm glad I can be of any help.”

“You're an angel,” she said in all honesty.

Serim was an awesome girl, you were glad they found each other.

On monday morning, you quit your job and definitely left the building under the yelling of your boss—well, former boss.

Changbin was moving in with Serim soon after finishing preparing everything in his city. As a music producer, he could live basically anywhere but he had to move a lot.

You two were talking almost daily, and you were seeing Serim often as well. She gave you the idea of downloading a dating app, to ‘see how it goes’.

On thursday, you were going to a job interview at 3pm and to a date at 5pm.

Who knows what will happen next?

thank you for reading! if you enjoyed, let me know! here's stray kids' masterlist

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