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shurisneakers · 3 years

Note

if you're taking ideas for harmless drabbles, i'd love to see one of bucky on one of those dates he mentioned and reader's shenanigans. if you aren't, feel free to ignore this!

a/n: are we really going to let a word limit define what a drabble is? is the vibe and spirit not enough? i say this bc this is 5.7k words long im so sorry. also hey thank you to everyone who piped in with their knowledge of violent geese and how apartment security works in new york!! also thanks to my bby @spiderrpcrker for reading this and telling me to publish this bc i wasnt going to fkjghfkj

warning: swearing, bad luck, dates, frustrated bucky, anxiety, mentions of gore but like only a sentence

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Catch up with the rest of the series here: Harmless Masterlist

Bucky returns only two weeks later. His mission lasted longer than expected and all he wants is to lie down and sleep for forty eight hours straight.

“FRIDAY?” he mumbles, kicking off his shoes. His jacket had already been discarded by his bedroom door when he walked in.

“Yes, Sergeant Barnes?”

“How are ya?” He doesn’t miss a beat in asking, even though he’s exhausted.

“As good as ever. Did you have a successful mission?”

“If by successful you mean one sprained limb instead of two, then yeah.” He wasn’t really cribbing. His ankle was already starting to heal anyway and it was worth the roundhouse kick to a Nazi's face. “Do I have anything scheduled for this weekend?”

“You have a meeting on your calendar scheduled for this Saturday.”

“Could you send a text to Y/N and ask if we can push it to the next day?” His muscles feel sore and God, he could definitely use a hot shower but all of that becomes secondary the minute he feels the sheets under him.

“Would you like me to reschedule the other one as well?”

“What’s that?” He opens one eye in confusion. “There’s another one?”

“It’s on Sunday. You’ve labelled it ‘date’.”

Ah, fuck.

“Would you like me to change it?” FRIDAY never sounds like she’s judging him, which is nice. It also reminds him about how she, as an AI, can’t judge him, which is a rude wake-up call to how he doesn’t have friends.

“No,” his voice is muffled against the pillow, “no, let it be. Where is it again?”

“You’ve only specified diner, Sergeant Barnes.”

Public space, daytime, plenty of escape routes. Good on his less delirious self for selecting a diner.

“Thanks, FRIDAY.” Now that he’s a little more relaxed, he can feel himself slip in and out of consciousness.

“One last thing," her automated voice commands his attention again. "Y/N replied. She says sure and to take care.”

“Yay.” Not even a second later he’s out like a light.

____

“Did you bring me any souvenirs?” Is the first thing he hears as he marches into your lair.

“What could I possibly get you?”

“A postcard, a t-shirt.” You don’t look up from your tinkering.

“Decapitated finger, used bullets,” he continues, “cement blocks.”

“Ew.” You snap the lid shut on the thing you’re working on, spinning around on your chair. "That's not nearly romantic enough."

“That’s all you’re going to get from a Russian underground bunker.” He does a mini jog up the stairs of the platform to where you are.

“Does the finger have a ring at lea- oh hello?” You raise an eyebrow at the sight of him. “You look different.”

He peers down. The outfit was still all black. As always.

“Not your clothes, dummy,” you interrupt, making him look back at you. “Your face. What’d you do?”

He unconsciously raises a hand to his cheek.

“Did you wash your face? Is that it?” you squint at him. “Has it been a few months since the last time?”

“Wow, you’re so funny,” he drawls sarcastically. “Top tier comedian right there.”

“No wait, it’s the beard.” You snap your fingers in realisation, completely ignoring his comment. “You trimmed it.”

“So what if I did?” He leans on your table.

“You going somewhere?” you ask, elastic snapping against your hands as you remove your gloves.

“It’s none of your busi-”

“Hold on a second.” A sly smile begins to make its way onto your face. “Are you going on a date, Bucky Barnes?”

His comeback dies down in his throat. That didn’t take you very long for you to figure out.

“I’m right, aren’t I?” You look smug, to say the least.

“Shut up.” A ray of light glistening distracts him. He traces it to the thing you were working on earlier.

“Where are you guys going?” You cross your arm across your chest, a small smirk on your face.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” It’s a silver box, engraved intricately with swirls that, when he observes carefully, looks like a skull. Wow, terrifying.

“I’m literally asking you.”

“What are those?” He shifts the conversation towards a more productive angle instead.

“Evil in a box and some other stuff.” You shrug offhandedly. “Is it a lunch date or just coffee?”

“Like Pandora’s Box?”

“A discount version, sure,” you confirmed impatiently. “Stop changing the topic, listen to me.”

He tilts his head, waiting for you to continue.

“Do you need a chaperone?” The sincerity in your voice for such a bullshit question has him scoffing.

“Good God- no, I do not need a chaperone. I’m 106 years old, I can go out unsupervised.” He reaches over and plucks the box off your table.

“Sir, you’re a geriatric."

“What are those?” He points to a few ray odd ray guns.

“Minor stuff you don’t have to worry about right now.”

He shakes the box in his hand. “What’s gonna happen if I open this?”

“Very bad things,” you whispered ominously before your volume returns to normal. “How’d you meet this person? Online?”

“She’s Natasha’s friend.” He turns the box over, seeing a small latch at the side. “What bad things?”

“Bad luck and misery. Don’t play with it, it’s dangerous.” You pull the box away from him. “Aw, is it a blind date?”

“Why do you care so much?” he shoots back, tugging the box back towards him.

“Just lookin’ out for you, Bucko,” you huff, adjusting your grip on your device. “Need to keep my favourite senior citizen safe.”

“I have a vibranium arm.” Whose force he could use to grab the box once and for all, but wasn’t. “I think I’ll be fine.”

“What if she has one too, huh? Then what?”

“She doesn’t.” As far as he knows, he’s the only one alive with a metal appendage made out of the strongest metal in the world. That could very well change by tomorrow but he's keeping the title for now.

“But what if she does? I swear to- stop trying to take the box!” You pull a little more forcefully, but he doesn’t relent.

“I want this to get over before this evening.”

“What time’s your date?”

“Why do you care?” He’s sure anyone who saw the dumb tug-of-war you both were playing would just automatically assume he was an absolute manchild, not an Avenger.

“Because.” You don’t explain further. “Tell me what time your date is, you weirdo.”

“Five o’clock, now let go.”

“Fine,” you say, suddenly loosening your grip. Clearly, it doesn't make much of a difference since he isn't struggling to keep his balance from the sudden loss of force.

“Fine.” He clears his throat, straightening up.

You don’t say anything. He doesn’t either.

A putrid smell creeps into his nose, one all too similar to spoiled milk and decaying seaweed. He has to physically stop himself from gagging.

“Have a good day.” You smile and lean far back. Too far. It looks like you're almost going to fall out of the chair.

Through the tears that are threatening to line his eyelids, he looks down at the box whose latch you somehow managed to lift, leaving the box open.

“What the fuck is this?” He coughs, swatting at the air in front of him to clear it.

“I told you; bad luck in a box.”

“You can’t scientifically create bad luck, that’s bullshit.” He tosses the box back onto your table. You watch it slide past you, not making any effort to stop it. “What is it really?”

“I’m not lying.” You pull open a drawer, brandishing a small table fan that you set down beside you. “If you open it, you’re going to have terrible luck for the day.”

He glowers at you when you turn the fan on, forcing the fumes back towards him.

“Besides, that’s all I was doing today.” You kick your feet up. “So you can leave now.”

He doesn’t care if you’re lying about not having anything else to do today. You could burn down the world if you wanted to but he needs to take a stupid shower. Again.

“You’re the fuckin’ worst.” He tries airing out his shirt, hoping that the smell would dissipate as soon as possible.

“Have fun on your date, sarge!” you encourage him as he stalks out of the lair. “Remember to wrap it befo-”

He turns it into a sprint before you can finish.

____

Six hours later and he’s absolutely convinced he fucked up.

He isn’t used to having his weekends free.

He realises that this is the first time in months that he’s actually stepped out of the Tower for something that wasn’t directly mission-related. He should probably get some air. Touch some grass. See the sun.

His shirt thankfully manages to rid itself of the odour from the dumb box so he didn’t have to go take a shower. With nothing much planned and a few hours to spare, he heads to the coffee shop instead.

It’s a small place, bustling and alive with a crowd of people. They have a little bookshelf that usually is full of books donated by patrons, free for anyone to read.

The barista smiles at him. The coffee costs more than his high school education. He awkwardly smiles back.

He’s not a regular, but they’ve seen him enough times to know that he usually asks for black coffee in a to-go cup, later adding a sugar or two according to his own taste. They're nice to him, occasionally throwing in a cookie or something on the house. He can't tell if it's because of the Avenger status or the sizeable tip he leaves.

He picks up a random book from the shelf, fully intending not to read it but to just sit there and think. The book acted as a shield for his resting bitch face, resting murder face and his resting rage face. More often than not, a good combination of the three.

He sets the coffee down at the corner table he manages to nab in a quick second, along with the two sachets of sugar.

“Is this seat taken?” Someone asks from beside him. He earnestly shakes his head in a ‘no’, gesturing for them to take it.

They give him a quick thanks and drag the chair away from his table.

He does a quick overlook of the book he picked up.

The Princess Diaries by Meg Cabot.

Well, now he’s too anxious to put it back. YA fiction it is.

He reaches for the sugar while glossing over the summary. He reaches a little further when it doesn’t come to his hand immediately, blindly running his fingers across the table.

Bucky peeks over the book, eyebrows knitting together when he notices that they’re missing.

He was sure he picked it up.

He looks underneath the table. It wasn’t there, neither under his seat. Strange, but okay. He picks up the book and the cup, walking back to the station to grab two sugars.

This time he makes sure to tuck it into his pocket, double-checking before going back to his table.

Which was now occupied. He wanted to groan.

His mind automatically reverts back to the box from that morning.

“Come on,” he scoffs quietly to himself. It was a coincidence. “Get yourself together.”

“A seat at the counter just cleared up,” the barista from earlier offers when she sees him standing in the middle of the store.

See? Good luck.

He shoots her a grateful look, venturing over to the barstool to take his place. It’s not the most comfortable, but then again, he wasn’t planning to stay there for very long.

He empties the sugar into the coffee, stirring slowly before opening a random page in the book.

He takes a long sip, ignoring how hot the drink was.

He chokes immediately. Because either he was losing his mind or his order had somehow got switched from ‘no sugar’ to ‘diabetes in a cup’.

He takes another small sip and his face immediately twists in disgust. Definitely too sweet. The sweetener he added only made it worse.

He catches the eye of the barista. She looks on in concern.

“Is everything okay?”

Fuck.

He’s not one to make a scene. He just wants to live as imperceptibly as he could.

“Yep.” The sweetness sticks to the back of his throat. “All good.”

He just closes his eyes and downs the rest of it without thinking twice, trying to hide the grimace in his face. He gives her a weak thumbs up. She doesn't look convinced.

He leaves the shop soon after, hands shoved in his pocket. Maybe he could go sit by the lake at Central Park, watch the clouds. It reminded Bucky of the lake in front of his hut in Wakanda and the hours he'd sit in front of it, feet dipped into the water as his goats fed. He misses it.

He makes a sharp turn at a corner, still thinking about his options when his ankle abruptly twists under him.

He stumbles rather ungracefully, almost hitting the ground, but manages to save himself through the newly built up immunity he has towards falling thanks to all his encounters with you.

His gaze lands on his hardcore combat boots. Their laces had come undone.

Now he just knew that was horseshit. He always double knots them; they had never loosened in the past before.

The box.

He shoves the thought out of his head, crouching down to tie them again. He tugs on them to make sure they’re secure before standing up again.

Central Park is a few blocks away but he’s glad he didn’t bring his bike. The weather was rather nice and the wind in his hair felt good.

He wanders around the park for a while, looking for the lake. He pauses at a board with a map of the park on it, assessing how far it was.

Once he's ascertained which path to go towards, he turns on his heel to go.

He fucking trips again.

“Are you serious?” he says furiously under his breath. “Cut it out.”

He’s half-convinced that he should tie it around his ankle like a sexy lace-up set of heels. He ties a triple knot this time, glares at it until he’s sure it’s fine and checks to see if anyone saw him humiliate himself.

Only a person on a nearby bench who looked like they were passed out drunk, given that their hoodie and sunglasses clad self was slumped over.

No witnesses. No 'You won't BELIEVE what the Winter Soldier did! Critics say it's his biggest blunder yet!' articles the next day on social media.

He manages to make it to the lake in one piece and no more falls, partly because he keeps his eyes fixed on his shoes to ensure no fuckery occurs.

There are a few people rowing and plenty of others lining the bank at scattered locations. There’s a mom and her kid at the place he ends up. She sends him a small smile in greeting and he returns the favour.

There’s a secluded bench that he takes a place on, letting out a small sigh. If he ignores the traffic and the skateboarders and the people in general, it’s actually kind of peaceful.

There are geese and their little goslings swimming around the water close to the shore. Maybe he should have brought some birdseed. Or kale.

The kid beside him is busy fashioning something out of leaves, only occasionally erupting into giggles when it doesn't pan out. His mom watches him fondly, pointing at twigs he could use. Everything seems kind of picture-perfect and his body automatically relaxes, easing further into the seat and closing his eyes for a second.

Until there's a large splash and loud distressed honking. He whips his head around to find the same kid staring straight ahead at the goose with a wide grin. His mother curses quietly, picking herself up off the ground and grabbing his hand, half chastising him for throwing something at an animal and half urging him to walk faster.

The goose turns to Bucky. With no one else to blame for the sudden attack, it logically launches itself at him. His smile drops.

He gets up in a rush. The dumb bird nearly comes for his head, but he deflects with his metal arm.

“I didn’t even do anything.” He swats at it swiftly, trying not to cause any real damage. The goose, understandably, does not speak English.

He flinches when one of them bites at his knee. He can punt it to the sun but he doesn’t want to.

“Stop that.” He sticks his hand out to shove the stupid thing away, retreating back to the road. “Jesus, why are you so aggressive?”

Among the barrage of feathers showering on him, he prays his damn shoelace doesn’t unravel as he shields his head with one arm, the other fending himself while he moves hurriedly away.

The goose honks angrily at him. He scowls at it, not exactly pleased with the reminder that these fucking overgrown ducks were constantly bloodthirsty.

It doesn’t leave him alone till he’s significantly away from where he was sitting. He wants to call it profanity but that’d probably piss it off more.

The box and its effects were definitely starting to feel real.

Fuck it, no more day out for him. The best plan he can think of is to just go to the diner he’s supposed to meet his date at.

The waiter greets him with a courteous nod, which Bucky can only imagine was the best he could muster when a dishevelled 200-pound man walks in covered in goose feathers and irritation.

He won't admit that he’s too scared to eat lunch at this point because he can’t rule out food poisoning. He spends the next two hours on his phone playing Fruit Ninja and plucking feathers that accented his all-black outfit.

Several glasses of water later and a second before he’s about to beat his high score, someone taps on his shoulder, breaking him out of his concentration.

Motherfu-

He clenches his eye shut, inhaling deeply before turning around.

“James?”

“Hey, yeah, that’s me.” Bucky almost falls over the table with how fast he stands up, clearly underestimating his size. “Leah?”

“Hi.” She smiles and he finds himself smiling nervously along with her.

“Hi.” He steps out to pull out her chair for her and she laughs. "Nice to meet you."

“How long have you been waiting here?” she asks while setting down her bag.

“Around ten minutes.” He clears his throat to hopefully hide the fact that he was lying through his teeth.

“Just give me a second, I need to tell my friend I reached,” Leah pulls out her phone and he nods.

“Another glass of water for you?” The waiter seems less enthusiastic about Bucky’s 8th refill.

“Yes,” he answers, hoping he doesn’t call him out on it, “please.”

“You must be really dehydrated."

Bucky turns to look at him slowly. “I like the taste.”

He can’t really blame the guy. Bucky’s been there for hours without ordering anything solid, just leaching off their free water and complimentary bread basket.

“So, James.” She tosses her phone back into her bag, leaning forward on her palms easily. “Tell me about yourself.”

He had rehearsed this a million times. He could do this.

“I, uh,-”

“Menu?” Okay, so someone clearly had a vendetta against him.

“Thank you.” She takes it with a smile.

His morning debacle with the coffee flashes through his mind. Suddenly the idea of a diner didn’t seem so smart.

However, she’s already placed her order and George is standing beside him expectantly, daring him to ask for another glass of water, so he places his usual order and hopes that your stupid bad luck thing wore off.

He quickly learns that his date is laid back, and it isn’t hard to fall into a rhythm with her even though she’s the one asking most of the questions.

“How’d you meet Nat?” Is his attempt at one.

“She used to come in for lunch every week at the place I work.” Leah leans back in her chair. “She can really handle her alcohol.”

He’d be worried about Nat day drinking if he didn’t know about her complete inability to get drunk. She might as well have been downing glasses of lemonade.

“Yeah, she’s-” Intimidating, scary, cool “-really something.”

“She mentioned that you like movies.” He definitely spends a lot of time watching them. “You got any recommendations?”

It’s easier to figure out how different things are or how much he missed out over the years through them. He’s glad he sat out the early 2000s, judging by their fashion sense and hairstyles.

He's watched several movies over the past few months, a few of them critically acclaimed and others who were just there for the cult following.

But now everything goes blank and the only thing that he can remember are the biopics made about Steve that were somehow hilarious for gifting him the mental image of Freddie Prinze Jr. dressed in the stars and stripes, and highly distressing for the number of historical inaccuracies. Contrary to popular belief, Stevie did not, in fact, consider running for president after he took up the shield, nor did he start his own bar chain.

He can’t name Oh Captain, My Captain starring Channing Tatum as his favourite movie on his first date and hope to make a good first impression.

“Despicable Me was kinda fun.” He wants to kill himself. “I mean, it’s the last one I saw.”

Her face twists in mild disgust, but he can tell it isn't ill-intentioned. “It's a good movie, but God, that just gave me some intense flashbacks to my aunt’s Facebook page. Don’t think I can look at a minion ever again.”

He sniggers with her. He doesn’t know what the context is.

He’s a little awkward, and he can definitely tell he isn’t the most open book but she laughs at some of his attempts at jokes. There’s a distinct discomfort he has lingering at the back of his mind prodding at him, telling him over and over again that he isn’t ready for something like this. A warning bell, asking him to leave as soon as possible because he was in a dangerous situation.

He remembers what his therapist told him about breathing and remembering that the resources he had available were greater than his anxiety and he tries to get out of his head. It takes a few minutes of acting like he's fine but he manages to do it.

Other than the one time he scalds his tongue on the coffee but played it off with a pained smile, shoving down thoughts of your stupid invention, things actually went okay.

It was nice, even though they decided by the end that it was better if they both gelled together better as friends. It lifts the strange fear he feels and he can hear Dr. Mendoza say she's proud of him for taking this step before spending three hours psychoanalysing why they decided to stay platonic.

Bucky promises to visit her sushi shop with Nat soon and she says a bottle of sake awaits him for a drinking game. He doesn’t have the heart to tell her that Nat and he share the same tolerance for alcohol.

He makes sure to leave George a tip. A big one. It’s the first time he sees the guy smile the entire evening.

He’s waving goodbye to Leah outside and he thinks that maybe it was a good end to the day and that things actually turned out fine.

Until he turns around to leave, only to have someone walk straight into him with an iced tea.

The cold comes as a bit of a shock, making him jump slightly. He stares at his shirt, using his fingertips to pull it away from his body.

The person melts into a series of apologies immediately, offering to dry clean his shirt but Bucky just forces a shake of his head and says it’s okay even though he can feel the sugar making the shirt stick to his chest. Goose feathers and iced tea. Was there anything else that would like to attach itself to him?

His fists clench and his teeth grit and he has to physically control himself from sprinting to your lair because God knows what else is in store for him and he didn't want to add in any way.

The door to the lair is locked. Fuckin’ brilliant.

When no one answers after minutes worth of waiting, he fishes for his phone and realises that maybe two hours of Fruit Ninja was not the best idea, especially on a phone known for having shitty battery life.

There’s roughly 2 percent left. By the time he opens his app to give you a call, his phone screen goes black.

He groans. He’s desperate at this point and under any other normal circumstances, he would have never, ever considered doing this.

But ten minutes later he’s outside your apartment building. You’re aware that he has your address; no doubt that it was in the SHIELD file he had gotten, and he knows that you know but it was still weird.

The buzzer has your last name listed next to it. He’s sure that he’ll break it if he keeps pressing it at this rate but he really needs you to let him in.

“Who the fu-” your voice comes through the intercom.

“I’m sorry for showing up like this, my phone died and I couldn’t reach you,” He breathes out as soon as he hears you. “But I need you to fix this.”

When he doesn’t hear a reply, he wonders if the thing actually worked. He’s about to start pressing it again-

“Bucky?” You sound a little surprised to hear him. “You’re at my house. Why are you at my house?”

“I need you to fix whatever this is.”

“What are you- fine, I’m buzzing you in,” your voice, initially confused soon trails off into something more dismissive.

There’s a soft click from the door, allowing him to push it open. The elevator is already on the same floor as him so he just uses that.

The elevator goes up a floor or two. His feet tap restlessly against the carpeted floor.

The lights turn off and everything comes to a standstill. His foot stops tapping.

He should have known. He should have fucking known.

Thirty seconds pass. He’s still in pitch darkness with the elevator showing no signs of moving.

In fact, he’s resigned to his fate. He sits down on the ground, only one step away from completely laying down and hoping someone finds his body here someday.

It’s six minutes of plain silence. He might as well get comfortable if he’s going to get stuck here for the rest of his life. Did he change his will? Does he even have a will?

There’s finally a whir. He thinks that maybe he’s going to plummet to his doom as the perfect end to this day, but then the light switches on and it starts moving upward.

It stops at the floor with a ding. He doesn’t get off the ground, only eyes the door wearily. With his luck, it wouldn’t open.

But it does and within a second he’s on his feet, scrambling to get out before it changes its mind.

He remembers your door number, basically charging down the hall to get to it.

The door is white and the paint is starting to chip off it. The handle itself is dented in a few places and he wonders if it was your fault or someone else's.

His knocks are rapid, agitated even. He doesn’t stop until he hears your loud shouts telling him to cut it out.

“What the hell were you doing, trying to break down my door?” It swings open, revealing you in your pajamas. “Haven’t you done that already? And where were you, I’ve been waiting for like, ten minutes.”

He honestly feels bad for showing up uninvited and highly flustered. He can’t imagine it’s a pretty sight either. "This bad luck shit- fix it. My whole day’s been fucked up.”

“What are you-” Your eyebrows knit together in confusion, taking in his appearance.

It takes you a second to realise what he’s talking about but when you do, your face settles.

“How was your date?” You lean against the door frame, arms crossed over your chest.

“Really,” He glowered at you, “that’s what you care about?”

“Yes.” You nod. “Did you have fun?”

He hesitates. “I guess?”

“Was she nice?”

“Yeah.” Where was this going.

“Good, I’m happy for you.” The smile on your face is genuine. “Look at you go, Casanova.”

“We agreed to be just friends, but that’s not the point here. Y/N,” he whines. “I have a mission next week, I can’t afford to fuck up. My whole day was off and I don’t want it to carry over.”

“Your whole day?” you questioned, standing up instead of leaning against the wall. “Buck-”

“Just fix it.”

“Okay.” You lift your hand up, extending it towards his face.

He waits for you to do something.

You flick him on the forehead.

“There,” you declare, going back to your previous position. “you’re cured.”

What.

He says exactly what he’s thinking.

You laugh. “Dude. I was fucking with you.”

Huh?

“Well, actually maybe just like, three things and then I got bored.”

He’s confused.

“You know,” you begin when he doesn’t reply, “taking the sugar packets, switching your coffee order when you were looking under the table, took your place when you left, the shoelaces.”

“The shoelaces?”

“Yeah.” You nod. “That’s the other ray gun you saw this morning. Unties your shoelaces. I stopped after that because I thought you figured it out.”

His face scrunches in puzzlement.

“I mean, you looked right at me and told me to cut it out.”

He racks his brain about what you could possibly be talking about before it hits him. The hungover person on the goddamn bench in the park.

“You were the one in the hoodie and sunglasses.”

“I just followed the Avengers’ code of disguise.” You shrug. “Turns out it kinda works. Also teleportation. So helpful.”

He forgot about the teleportation. That's why you could do all of it so fast without him noticing you were even there.

“What about the fucking geese?”

You pause for a second. “The geese?”

“And the elevator.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” The confusion on your face is apparent. “What geese and elevator? I have no idea what you’re saying right now.”

“Everything’s been a mess today,” he grumbles. “I don’t know what’s real or not.”

“I swear I had nothing to do with it other than what I mentioned.” There’s indignation on your features that quickly gives way to delight. “Holy shit, did I just accidentally invent portable bad luck?”

“Okay-” his palm finds its way to his forehead in exasperation, “-then what the hell was the smell?”

“What smell- oh, the one from the box?”

He nods briskly.

“Secretions Magnifique.” You snorted. “It’s a perfume. The worst rated one I could find.”

“Perfume?”

“With notes of milk, seaweed and sandalwood.”

“It wasn’t an inator?”

“No, it wasn- did you get vibe checked by a goose at the park?” You stifle a laugh when you notice a stray feather on his thigh.

“What does that even mean?” he asks in despair.

“I can see why it attacked you. You got bad juju.” You raise an eyebrow. “Maybe if you stop staring so much-”

“So I just have shit luck.” Is that a fucking relief or even worse?

“Well,” you begin but decide not to continue.

Even with all the irritability masking it, you could see that he genuinely was just not having a good time.

“Wait here a second.”

You leave him at the door. He shifts his balance and sighs, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. He still had to walk back to the Tower. Maybe he could grab a slice of pizza along the way since he skipped lunch.

“Okay, here.” You return with a large glass of water. He only looks at it. “It’s just water, I promise. You look like you ran a marathon."

He takes it from you sceptically, pushing away the urge to sniff at it. It’s gone within a few gulps.

You wait until he’s finished to point at his arm. He draws his eyebrows together, but you only curl your index finger and beckon for him to give you his hand.

He reluctantly extends it towards you.

“Don’t laugh,” you warn him, taking his metal arm. “This usually helps me.”

You tie a small bracelet around his wrist. It has a few beads, which he realises represent the colours of the solar system.

“Keep that for good luck.” You pat it gently after securing it. “I think you just had a bad day; those don’t last very long. Do you want to charge your phone before you leave?”

“Uh-” The bracelet’s pretty, the colours shine against the dark vibranium. “-no, I’m good. I’ll just leave.”

“Okay. Anything else I can help you with or will you be fine?”

He narrows his eyes. “You’re being suspiciously nice.”

“I’m not evil all the time.” You huff. “My hours are in the morning.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” he says again. “I’m gonna go then.”

“See you next week.” You give him a little wave. “I’d say break a leg on your mission but knowing your situation...”

He scoffs. “Thanks.”

You make a move to close the door when starts walking down the hallway towards the exit.

He adjusts the beads slightly so he can see them better. The Earth one has glitter in it. He thinks it’s cute.

“Bucky.”

He turns around.

There’s a hint of a smile on your face.

“Take the stairs.”

He doesn’t have to be told twice.

Next part

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #mcu fic #bucky fic #bucky barnes fic #bucky fluff #bucky barnes fluff #bucky angst #bucky barnes angst #harmless fic #winter soldier x reader #Winter Soldier #bucky barnes #bucky

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watchmegetobsessed · 3 years

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TO LOVE AND BE LOVED - Part Three (Harry Styles)

a/n: part 3 wohoo! thank you so much for all the love you’ve been showing the series, it keeps me going and writing more and more! originally i thought it would turn out to be about three parts, but it has outgrown that limit so i added two more parts to the masterpost, that’s for sure is gonna happen but i might even add more?! not sure, im still in the writing process so i can’t tell how long it’s going to turn out to be, but this just means even more content for you guys!

as always, feedback is very much appreciated, please make sure to share your thoughts and comments on the part, it’s such a huge boost for writers to read what you thought!!

pairing: CEO!Dad!Harry X Reader

warning: mentions of death, cheating and divorce

word count: 11.4k

SERIES MASTERPOST masterlist

When you were working at the daycare you couldn’t focus on photography as much as you would have liked to. You often had to stay in for extra hours, wait until the last kid was picked up and then do paperwork, or change the decoration in your room or whatever Clair asked you to do that day. By the time you got home you just wanted to take a bath and fall into bed. You also had to travel 40 minutes to work which took away a lot of time from your day.

Working for Harry helped you immensely with focusing more on your passion. Even on his worse days he got home by six and since your workplace is your home, you don’t even have to drive forty minutes to enjoy the comfort of your home, you just walk up the stairs to your room and that’s it.

In addition, taking care of Izzy, you still have the chance to work on some editing or snap new pictures. You have time off when she has her classes and when you put her down for her nap. The best thing is that Izzy is quite interested in photography, she gets very interested whenever she sees you bring out one of your cameras and she always lets you take pictures of her, posing and goofing around. The folder on your computer that has her name is growing each day with more and more sweet photos of the little girl that has completely stolen your heart. You’ve been regularly getting your favorites shots of her printed and you always leave them on Harry’s desk so when he gets home he sees them and they make him forget about whatever happened at work that day.

You are getting more and more emails about possible sessions and slowly but surely, your weekends start to fill up with weddings, birthday parties and engagement photoshoots. It seems like you have definitely made the right choice when you took this job. No doubts.

“Can I ask a question, daddy?” Izzy is poking the peas around on her plate as the four of you sit at the dining table at dinner. Ruth has joined you today, because Harry had to make a quick trip to his office in the afternoon and you were out shopping with Trevor today.

“Sure, baby,” Harry hums nodding.

“Why don’t you eat meat?” she asks seriously, eyeing her own plate that has some chicken on it, while Harry’s is only stacked with veggies and potatoes.

“Because I decided that I won’t want to.”

“Can I decide that too?”

“You’re a little too young for that, baby. You need the meat to grow big. When you’re older you can think about what kind of things you want to and don’t want to eat.”

“Okay,” she nods without throwing a tantrum about her dad telling her no. You know quite a few kids who would have flipped over it, but not Izzy. Harry might not even realize how good of a job he is doing raising her and teaching her how to be a good human.

“I have another question,” she announces, glancing up at Harry.

“Go ahead.”

“If you don’t eat meat, does that make you an herbivore?”

You can’t push down a chuckle, you were not expecting this. Your eyes meet Ruth’s over the table, she is enjoying this conversation just as much as you do. It’s cute how Izzy put two and two together and made a seemingly logical conclusion.

“We learned about herbivore dinosaurs this week,” you inform Harry, who is a little lost about why his daughter just called him an herbivore. Also, you’re quite impressed that she remembered the word, though she struggled with it at first, but it seems like it finally stuck.

Harry shakes his head chuckling as he sets his fork down, looking over at Izzy.

“In a way I should be called an herbivore, but that’s not what you call people who don’t eat meat. I’m a vegetarian.”

“Oh, okay,” she nods, wrapping up the information in her head as she keeps eating.

You and Ruth clean up after dinner while Harry gives Izzy a bath, a little earlier than usually, because she spilled apple juice on herself, so he decided to just go straight for the bath instead of changing once more before bedtime.

“Will you be fine with putting these away, Darling?” Ruth asks as you’re drying the last few dishes.

“Sure! I’ll take care of it,” you smile back at her as she nods and heads into the living room.

Harry emerges from upstairs with a freshly cleaned Izzy on his arms. As soon as her little feet touch the floor she bolts over to join Ruth in front of the TV while Harry walks into the kitchen just as you put the last dish away.

“Hey, there’s something I wanted to talk to you about,” he starts and suddenly, you feel your stomach drop, especially because his face seems very serious.

“Oh God, what did I do?” you ask, feeling yourself panicking already.

“Nothing! It’s not like that!” he chuckles softly, realizing you kind of misunderstood the situation.

“Okay, good. Sorry, you just looked so serious.”

“Sorry, I was just… thinking. So two friends of mine that I work together with also are getting married soon. They had a photographer booked already, but the guy cancelled on them and, um, I hope you don’t mind, but I recommended you to them.”

“Really?” you ask in complete surprise.

“Yeah. Actually, they saw a picture of Izzy that you took in my office and we started talking about how you do photoshoots in your free time and then I told them to ask if you’d be up to do their wedding as well.”

“Wow, that’s really nice of you, Harry. Thank you!”

“I gave them your number, they’ll probably call you sometime next week or so.”

“Great!” you beam, excited about the new event you can work at. “I hope they’ll want to work with me.”

“I kind of hyped you up for them and they seemed very pleased with the pictures I showed them, so I’m sure they will want to,” Harry chuckles softly, even blushing a little. It always amazes you how a tall, muscular guy with so many tattoos can be such a soft, caring and loving person. It always reminds you not to judge the book by its cover.

“Thank you, Harry. This means a lot to me.” Reaching over you place your hand on his arm and give it a gentle squeeze before moving past him to join Ruth and Izzy in the living room.

Harry was right about Sarah and Mitch being all excited to get in contact with you, because they don’t even wait for the next week to reach out. Sunday afternoon you are working on some more editing at the dining table while Harry and Izzy are painting on the other end of the table, busy with their masterpieces when your phone starts ringing, an unknown number shown on the screen.

“Y/N Y/L/N,” you answer it, leaning back in your seat.

“Y/N, hi! My name is Sarah Jones, I hope I’m not calling at a bad time, Harry gave me your number this week.”

“Oh! Sarah, yeah! So nice to talk to you!” you beam and Harry’s eyes snap up to you at the mentioning of the familiar name. “Harry mentioned you’d reach out and don’t worry, I’m happy to chat.”

“That’s great. I wanted to wait until Monday, but truth is that we are kind of in a short of time and I was afraid you’d be already busy for our date, so I wanted to call you as soon as possible.”

“No worries.”

“So first and foremost, I’m gonna ask if you have anything planned on the last weekend of May. I know it’s just in a few weeks, but I really hope we can work it out.”

“Let me pull up my calendar,” you tell her as you open up the app on your computer that you use to keep track with your sessions and events. Finding the weekend in question in it, you smile at the empty space. “Good news, seems like I’m free that weekend.”

“Oh thank God!” she breathes out in relief and you let out a chuckle. “That’s so amazing. So then would it be possible to meet up sometime next week? You could show some more works of yours and we can discuss more details, how does that sound?”

“This week? Well I have to work—“ you start, but Harry cuts you off.

“Come into the office tomorrow morning.” “What?”

“Put her on speaker,” he smiles nodding towards your phone and you do as he asked, setting it to the table with Sarah on speaker. “Hey Sarah!”

“Harry, hi!”

“Aunt Sarah?” Izzy’s ears perk up, some pink paint on her cheeks that you have no idea how it got there, because her painting doesn’t even have any pink in it.

“Hi Izzy! So good to hear your voice!” she chuckles through the phone.

“Sarah, you’re gonna be at the studio Monday morning, right?” Harry asks and you can’t not notice how his voice changed the slightest bit as soon as he started talking about business.

“Yeah and Mitch is coming too,” she confirms.

“Okay then how about you come in tomorrow morning, Y/N?”

“But what about Izzy?”

“She can come too. I’ll look after her while you discuss the details, it’s no big deal. It’s been a while since the last time she came to work with me,” he smirks over at the little girl, who is already excited to spend some more time with her daddy at his workplace.

“Are you sure about that?”

“Absolutely,” he nods smiling.

“Thank you, well then I’m okay with tomorrow if it’s fine for you as well, Sarah.”

“That would be perfect! Thank you guys both, Mitch and I really appreciate it.”

“No worries,” Harry nods, going back to his painting. You take Sarah off the phone as you say your goodbye before ending the call.

You start Monday off with some extra excitement. Not just because you are about to get booked for another event, but also because it’s going to be the first time you see Harry at his workplace. He has been quite good at keeping his business separated from his private life, it never really happens that you catch him dwell about anything work related whenever he is home and around Izzy. The phone call with Sarah was like a tiny glimpse of what he might be like when he is in work mode and you’re kind of curious to see more of this side of him.

Just as usual, Harry takes care of Izzy in the morning while you get ready on your own. You want to look good, not only are you going to meet more of his friends, but people he works with. Or should you say, people who work for him.

You choose a light pink dress, throwing a white knitted sweater over your shoulders with a pair of ballerinas. After putting on some light makeup and grabbing your purse and laptop you head downstairs to grab a quick breakfast. Izzy is already sitting at the table, still in her pajamas since her and food are a dangerous combination and Harry always makes sure to get her dressed once she is away from all of that.

“You look so pretty, Y/N!” she beams, her legs dangling from the chair as she digs into her oatmeal. Harry appears from the kitchen and he has the same look on his face like when he saw you leave for that wedding a while ago. A blush paints his cheeks as he slows his steps down, his eyes running down on the length of your body before they return to your face.

“Izzy is right, you look… really pretty, Y/N,” he compliments into your face, unlike last time when you only heard him call you pretty when he thought you were long gone.

“Thank you,” you breathe out with a soft chuckle.

The morning carries on as usual, Harry dresses Izzy for the day and then you all head out, however you stop short upon seeing the various cars parked on the driveway and the double garage.

“Maybe take the Rover, it’s got the child seat in it and I’ll take the Jaguar today,” Harry suggests as he hands you over the keys to the Rover and then nears the car he is taking for the day.

“Oh yeah, you just take the Jaguar, boss,” you chuckle under your breath, finding it a little funny that deciding on which car you’re taking for the day is even a question in someone else’s life.

Izzy sings along the radio as you follow Harry’s car into the label’s building. Of course, it’s not just some simple office building, it’s situated in the riches area of the city and the building is massive with loads of floors and a huge HES Records sign above the entrance where you meet Harry after parking down.

“Good morning, Mr. Styles! Hello, Izzy!” the woman behind the front desk smiles widely immediately, standing up from her chair to hand Harry a stack of envelopes. “Your post, sir.”

“Thank you, Veronica. Have a nice day,” Harry nods in her way as the three of you move through the hall to the elevators. Waiting for it to arrive, you glance at the board on the wall that lists everything you can find in the building and the level you should look for it at. There are endless amount of studios, at least three on each levels, offices, creative rooms and conference rooms. It’s pretty clear that HES Records manages a lot of talents and that requires a lot of space.

Arriving to the twentieth floor, which is of course the top of the building, you are in awe as you realize that the whole floor is basically Harry’s office. There’s a kind of hall area for his two assistants, he has his own conference room, his kitchen and dining area and of course, his office space. The whole place screams power and influence. The modern design of the interior makes it such a fancy work space not just for him, but for everyone else in the building. It’s truly impressive.

“Wow, Harry. This place is… amazing,” you breathe out as he walks the two of you into the conference room where Izzy immediately climbs up to one of the chairs, standing up so she can lean onto the table. Harry walks behind her and adjusts her so she just sits before she could fall off.

“Thank you. I really like this place too. I always thought it’s important to have a great place to work at,” he smiles, clearly proud of how far his business has come. “There’s a mini fridge over there, feel free to take anything you’d like. Sarah texted me on the way here that they’ll be here shortly.”

“Great, thank you,” you nod, taking a seat next to Izzy as you set your laptop up. The glass door of the room opens and one of the assistants peeks inside.

“Mr. Styles, Mrs. Wonstein is on the phone asking for you.”

“Oh, alright, give me a minute and I’ll take it.” The assistant nods and walks out. “Izzy, come with daddy a little, alright? Let Y/N do her thing.” “She can stay, if you want. I can look after her,” you tell him, but he shakes his head as Izzy climbs off the chair and running over to him, she takes his hand.

“No, just focus on this one. I’ll take care of her, don’t worry.”

“Thank you, Harry,” you smile with gratitude as the two of them walk out, leaving you alone. You start scrolling through your folders, wondering which photos you should show Sarah and Mitch, picking out some of your favorites while you wait for them, though they don’t take too long to arrive. Soon enough the glass door opens and the lovely couple walks in.

“Y/N! Hi, it’s so nice to finally meet you!” Sarah greets you, wrapping you in a warm hug before stepping aside.

“Hi, I’m Mitch, nice to meet you,” the groom-to-be smiles shyly as he pulls you in for a short hug as well.

“Good to meet you guys too,” you smile back at them as you all sit to the table.

“Thank you so much for meeting us in such a short notice. Our photographer bailed out on us and I was starting to really worry when Harry mentioned that you are doing this kind of stuff in your free time,” Sarah explains.

“No worries. Would you like to go over some of my previous works?” you offer and they both nod in excitement before you start clicking through some old projects.

They share their vision for the whole wedding and the kind of pictures they would like and you like their approach and feel like it’s right up your alley. They both seem to like what you show them and Sarah compliments on how well you are able to catch small, but important moments.

“The wedding won’t be too big, just friends and family, but we do want a lot of memories, it means a lot to us,” Sarah explains and you nod, noting everything she says.

“Harry said you like this oldschool kind of vibe in your pictures,” Mitch chimes in.

“Oh, yeah. I like to make them look like they weren’t taken on a digital sometimes.”

“Do you think you can make some of those for us as well? Not all of them, just a couple,” Sarah asks.

“Sure! It’s more about the editing process, but it’s totally doable.”

You go over a few more things, making sure you’re on the same page, but you feel like things are working out perfectly. Though you guessed they would be great people, it’s still nice to work with such a nice and professional couple. You’ve had some crazy ones before, they definitely don’t make the job easy on you, but it’s not the case right now.

“Okay, so are you sure the date is okay for you? We wouldn’t want you to cancel on anything you had before just because we are Harry’s friends,” Mitch assures you, but you give them a warm smile.

“I’m totally free, don’t worry. Harry doesn’t have that kind of advantage here,” you chuckle softly.

“Thank you so much in this case. You’re truly a lifesaver,” Sarah breathes out in relief.

“Thank you for the trust. I’m really looking forward to working with you guys!”

Finishing up the meeting you pack up, chatting a little out of the business talk with Sarah and Mitch as you head over to Harry’s office.

“Hey! How did it go?” Harry asks as soon as the three of you walk in. Izzy is sitting at his desk, like a little boss, coloring something as he is sitting on the corner of the desk.

“Amazing, we owe you one for suggesting her,” Sarah sighs and you can’t help but just chuckle at how thankful she really is that you could help them out.

“You owe me no more than just one dance at the wedding,” Harry smiles at her.

“Can I dance too?” Izzy’s head perks up.

“Oh baby, you’re not coming to the wedding. You’ll be staying with Grandma, I already told you.” Izzy pouts at her dad, but she doesn’t seem to mind it that much, she quickly goes back to coloring.

“We’ll dance some other time, okay?” Sarah offers her and she nods happily.

“Can I dance with Uncle Mitch too?” she questions and Mitch just smiles down at her.

“Of course,” he hums, curling an arm around Sarah’s waist. “I have a meeting in ten so I’ll head out, I’m gonna pick James up in the afternoon, alright?” He kisses Sarah’s temple before pulling Harry into a brotherly hug. “Y/N, it was so nice to meet you and thank you for everything again,” he smiles at you, enveloping you in a quick hug as well.

“See you soon,” you smile back before he waves his last goodbye and leaves. “Who’s James?” you ask curiously.

“James is our son. He is turning three this year,” Sarah beams proudly.

“Oh! You two already have a son, that’s great! I’ll make sure to snap a bunch of photos of him too,” you chuckle.

“Please, our house is already packed with pictures, but there’s just never enough,” Sarah laughs.

The three of you chat a little longer while Izzy is busy with her coloring, talking about the wedding and whatnot, Harry invites her and Mitch over for dinner sometime and she happily says yes before business is calling her so she heads out as well.

“Okay, come one, little Sunshine. Let’s get home, Rosaline will be over soon for your piano lesson,” you smile down at Izzy who throws all her coloring stuff into one of Harry’s drawers before hopping off the leather seat.

“I’ll see you in the afternoon, okay?” Harry leans down and kisses the top of her head before pressing his lips to her cheek as well.

“Bye daddy, have a good day!” she calls out, grabbing your hand as you head to the door, Harry following behind.

“Mr. Styles, you have a meeting in five with—“ one of the assistants speaks up, but Harry stops her.

“I know, tell him I’ll be down in a minute. And please call Isaac to remind him about his deadline tomorrow,” he asks in that voice again you heard yesterday when Sarah called. There’s just something so intimidating yet exciting in the way he bosses around, but not like an asshole. He is a man in power, but he surely knows how to use it for the good.

“I forgot to talk to you about the time Izzy is spending at my mum’s, please remind me to go over it with you tonight, alright?” Harry asks and you nod as the elevator’s door opens and the two of you walk in.

“Bye daddy!” Izzy waves at him.

“Bye baby, be good! Bye Y/N!” he smiles as the door starts to close.

“See you later,” you smile back before he disappears from your sight.

The meeting with Sarah and Mitch got you buzzing, because it’s gonna be such an intimate yet beautiful wedding and those are your favorite. You can’t wait to start snapping the pictures and make their memories last forever of their big day.

You want to say thank you to Harry for suggesting you to them, so while Izzy is with Rosaline, you make a quick round to the grocery store and get everything you need to make some cupcakes, knowing well Harry loves those. He once told you that he could easily eat a dozen of those if he had the chance, so you think it’s gonna be the perfect way to thank him.

You keep the usual schedule, but after your little learning session in the afternoon, instead of heading out to the backyard to play, you suggest you bake the cupcakes together and Izzy is more than happy to help you.

It doesn’t take long for the kitchen to turn into a warzone, ingredients spilled to the counter all over the place, some music is playing in the background and you’ve been struggling to figure out how to use the different machines around the super modern kitchen.

You go all out with the decorations, you even bought some food coloring so you can make the cupcakes different colors and mess around with the icing and cream as well. You get so busy with the task on hand that time flies by faster than you expected. The two of you are still working on the decorating when the front door opens and Harry walks into the mess you’ve created in the past hours.

“What is doing on here?” he chuckles, seeing Izzy’s hair covered in flour, whipped cream on her nose and cheeks as she is throwing some sprinkles on one of the cupcakes, sitting on the kitchen island counter while you are finishing up another one.

“Oh! I wanted it to be a surprise!” you pout. “Izzy and I are making you cupcakes!”

“Why do I deserve a surprise?” he asks smirking, walking farther into the kitchen as he looks around, finding the mess quite amusing, rather than annoying. Harry knows well enough that it’s not easy to keep the place around you clean when there are kids involved in any process.

“I wanted to thank you for suggesting me to Sarah and Mitch. It was really nice of you.”

“Already told you it was nothing. Of course I suggest them a good photographer if I know one.”

You just smile at him shrugging, because no matter how hard he is trying to play it down, it meant a lot to you.

“Look daddy!” Izzy holds up her cupcake, half of it is covered with sprinkles, the other half is decorated with chocolate chips and she is clearly proud of it.

“That looks great, baby!” he smiles proudly, kissing the top of her head. “You have so much stuff on you, you could easily turn into a cupcake too,” he jokes, making her laugh.

“Be a cupcake with me, daddy!” Izzy beams and before Harry could stop her, she wipes some whipped cream to his face, getting him dirty as well. You gasp before letting out a laugh, Izzy shrieks happily seeing her dad all dressed up fancily and licking the cream off his face.

“Isabelle Styles, you have no idea what you just brought on yourself,” he warns in a low tone, already making Izzy scoot backwards as she is trying to escape, but she doesn’t have anywhere to go, the kitchen island’s edge is right behind her butt. However, she doesn’t realize it and tries to push herself back some more, deeming herself to fall right off, but before anything could happen Harry scoops her into his arms, pressing his creamy face to her cheek, making an even bigger mess that’s already there. Izzy is moving around, laughing and screaming as Harry gets some more cream to his hands, wiping it onto her anywhere he can.

“Oh my God, you are wasting all the cream!” you call him out, but it’s such a sweet moment to witness, you would never blame him for wasting it.

Harry stops attacking Izzy and turns to you with a dark look in his eyes.

“Izzy, I think Y/N looks too clean, doesn’t she?” he cocks his head to the side, exchanging a look with the girl in his arms.

“She does!” Izzy agrees as you start backing away from them. Harry sets Izzy down to her feet, grabbing the bowl with the remaining of the cream. He gets a handful for himself and lets Izzy fill her palms as well.

“Oh no, don’t you dare!” you warn them, holding up your pointing finger at them, trying to escape, but you are kind of cornered against the counter.

“It’s my house, I do whatever I want to,” he smirks, so full of himself and in a blink of the eye, they both launch themselves at you and Hell breaks loose.

They start whipping cream on you anywhere they can and when it’s gone, Harry just decides to go for anything else he can reach. Izzy is throwing sprinkles around while thanks to Harry, flour is flying everywhere, completely destroying the kitchen.

“Stop! No! I surrender!” you scream, fighting back, but it’s two against one.

“No mercy!” Harry shouts, so excited, as if he just transformed into a little boy, throwing mud around.

You grab his wrists when he tries to pour sugar on top of your head straight from the contained, holding him back, but he is so much stronger than you, it’s kind of a lost fight already. You don’t even realize how close he is, your chests are almost touching as he has you pinned against the counter, faces only about two inches away from each other. His wrist slides out of your hold, but he drops the sugar to the counter next to you. You try to snatch it to use his own weapon against him, but he is quick to stop you, forcing your hand down next to your side, but in the process he managed to bring you even closer, flushed against his hard chest and your lips part at the sudden mood change that he must be feeling as well, because the playfulness disappears from his eyes pretty fast and it’s replaced by something entirely different, something you can’t even read, because you haven’t seen it in his eyes before. And then…

Then you see his eyes flicker down to your lips, just a moment before yours move down to his. It’s that moment. It’s that exact moment when you just know you both are thinking about kissing, but you don’t know if it’s going to happen or now. You’re not even sure you want it to happen.

You fucking moron, of course you want to kiss him! That tiny voice in the back of your mind screams at you. In a heartbeat, it seems like he is about to move closer, but then the moment is interrupted and completely destroyed when a woman walks into the house, scaring you to death.

“Wow, it seems like Izzy took over control completely,” she comments, walking further into the house as you jump away from Harry, suddenly very aware of the mess you’ve made.

“Gemma, what—“ Harry starts, but he is quickly cut off.

“Don’t ask what I’m doing here, I literally texted you today that I would come by and you said it’s okay.” She gives him a look before her eyes move over to you as you’re trying to somehow clean everything up, but it’ll take a little longer probably. “You must be Y/N, hi! I’m Gemma, Harry’s sister.”

She steps over to you holding out a hand and you reach for it, but then stop, seeing that your palms are all floury. You both let out a chuckle, deciding to just move over the handshake.

“Hi, it’s nice to meet you, though it would have been better if we met when I didn’t have whipped cream in my eyes,” you joke.

“Auntie Gemma, we made cupcakes, do you want one?” Izzy runs up to her, holding up a cupcake that was finished, unlike the majority that are going to have poor decorations, since Harry and Izzy decided to use everything in the fight. Now it’s the floor that’s covered with icing, cream and sprinkles.

“Maybe later, sweetie, but they look awesome!”

As you wipe your face with a kitchen towel, you can feel Harry’s gaze on you, your heart beating so fast in your chest, it’s pushing all the blood up into your head that’s already feeling dizzy. What would have happened if Gemma didn’t walk in? Would has he kissed you? Or did you misread the situation and it was nothing just part of the game?

You busy yourself with cleaning up as Harry cleans himself a little with a paper towel before stepping closer to his sister.

“I totally forgot you texted, I replied in the middle of a meeting, I think I didn’t process the message.”

“It’s fine,” Gemma sighs. “I’m already used to my little brother forgetting about me,” she teases him, but he just rolls his eyes at her.

“Let me just help Y/N clean up the kitchen and I’ll be right with you. Would you mind cleaning Izzy off?” Harry asks her, but you stop him short.

“Oh, I’ll take care of this, don’t worry,” you assure him, but as his eyes snap over at you, you lose your voice. He clearly felt the moment as well earlier and now it’s kind of getting awkward, you don’t really want to be left alone with him right now. Not until you figure out what this whole thing was.

“Are you sure? I mean I was the one who started it and—“

“It’s fine,” you try your best to smile at him without overheating. He is standing several feet away from you, but you can still feel what it felt like to be pushed up against him.

Harry hesitates, his eyes following your every move while you are trying to busy yourself and act normal, while you are literally crumbling inside. You almost kissed your boss in the middle of his kitchen, you need a moment to process that.

“Alright, let me know if you need help,” he murmurs before picking Izzy up and heading upstairs to clean them both, Gemma following them right behind. When they are out of your sight, you lean against the counter, breathing out heavily.

Meanwhile upstairs, Harry hands Izzy his phone to play some games while he cleans her and himself off in the bathroom. Gemma sits on the edge of the tub, eyeing her brother curiously, which Harry notices.

“What?” he asks, stripping Izzy out of her dirty clothes.

“What was all that about?”

“What do you mean?”

“I saw you, Harry. You were like, ready to snog Y/N right then and there when I walked in. Did I miss something?”

“No idea what you’re talking about and I would appreciate it if you didn’t bring this up when it’s not just the two of us,” he replies firmly, looking down at the girl who is obliviously tapping on the screen. Gemma just rolls her eyes before leaving the two of them alone.

Wandering down she finds you scrubbing the counters from the mess you’ve made, deep in your thoughts. Seeing her walk in, you shoot her a smile, not sure what to say or if you even should say anything, but when she grabs a towel for herself and starts helping, you speak up.

“Oh, don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of it.”

“Don’t be silly, I’m happy to help,” she smiles, as she starts cleaning the kitchen island up. “So how do you like working for my brother, so far? He mentioned what happened with the daycare. Honestly, those mothers are entitled spoiled brats,” she scoffs making you smile.

“They weren’t too delightful even before the whole fiasco,” you chuckle softly. “But I really like it here. There are a lot more perks and it’s so much easier to focus on one kid than to have fifteen at a time,” you point out making her laugh.

“Yeah, I’m good with my two, don’t think I could handle more.”

“Oh, you have kids?”

“Yes, two sons. Beau is turning ten this year and Jasper turned six in January.” Gemma pulls out her phone from her back pocket and unlocking it she shows you the homescreen that has a picture of two adorable boys sitting on a bench next to each other, munching on a big bowl of strawberries. The younger one, Jasper has a red sunhat on his head while Beau is rocking some cool sunglasses.

“Oh my God, they look so much like you!”

“I get that a lot and honestly, they really should!” Gemma scoffs. “It took twenty fucking hours for Jasper’s big head to come out!”

“Wow that sounds way too much,” you laugh and Gemma nods with a tired, but clearly proud smile.

“Yeah, but it was worth it. Anyway, after my two boys, Izzy is the little princess of the family.”

“The boys get along well with her?” you ask as you both keep cleaning.

“They act like her big brothers, they get so protective over her!”

“That’s cute.”

“Yeah, they really are. My mom has this summer barbeque every year, if Harry doesn’t invite you with him then I’m doing it now, because you need to see how crazy out family gets,” she smirks at you. “All of our cousins and the kids are there, it’s a whole parade.”

“I’m sure it’s a lot of fun,” you smile at her. “One of my friends in high school had a really big family and they always invited me to birthdays at their place, I loved how lively and buzzing it was always.”

“Yeah, it’s nice to get together from time to time,” she nods smiling. “So do you have a boyfriend or something?” she asks then, implying that she is not even sure if you are playing on the team she is assuming.

“Oh, um, no. It’s just me for now. So no boyfriend for me.” Your answer, making sure it gives her the information she was trying to get as well.

“Are you done interrogating her, Gem?” Harry appears from upstairs, Izzy running ahead of him before smashing herself against Gemma’s legs.

“We’re just having a chat, is that a crime now?” she rolls her eyes. “Swear to God, he is such a control freak sometimes,” she then adds turning to you.

“Would you stop offending me in my own house?” Harry gives him a look. Gemma leans down and picks Izzy up into her arms.

“Izzy, you really should tell your dad to pull the stick out of his as—“

“You are not finishing that!” Harry cuts her off and you can’t push your laughter back. Harry’s eyes meet yours over Gemma’s shoulders and he realizes that you are still all dirty and messed up. “Y/N, go and take a shower if you want. We’ll take this over, alright?”

It wasn’t an order, but you feel like it was a very firm suggestion. He is clearly uncomfortable with you talking to Gemma and though you’re not sure why, you don’t want to upset him, so just nodding you drop the kitchen towel and head upstairs to clean yourself up.

“I hope you didn’t say anything to upset her,” Harry comments as he takes over the cleaning. Gemma grimaces.

“What could have I possibly said? I was just trying to get to know her!”

“You are always a little too up in my business, Gems,” he sighs.

“Daddy, can I watch some TV, please?” Izzy asks, tugging on his pants.

“Sure. Do you need me to switch it on?”

“No, I’m a big girl, I can do it,” Izzy nods before running off, leaving the siblings alone.

“Didn’t know Y/N was your business,” Gemma tilts her head to the side. Harry opens his mouth to defend himself, but nothing comes out. He was caught with this one. “Oh my God. I knew I walked in on something, you have a thing for her!” Gemma gasps with wide eyes.

“Stop with this! You and Niall are like some middle schoolers, it’s so fucking annoying!”

“So Niall sees it too, huh?”

“Niall is an idiot,” he points out. “He is… obsessed with this idea that I should start dating again and he thinks I should make a move on Y/N.”

“Well, he is an idiot, but he has a point.”

“No he doesn’t!” Harry argues, but Gemma just rolls her eyes.

“So you want to die alone? Is that your plan?”

Harry has always hated his sister’s bluntness. She never held herself back when it came to giving her opinion, whether it was wanted or not. But what Harry hates even more is that most of the time… Gemma is right.

He doesn’t want to die alone, no one wants that, but being with someone is a hard topic for Harry after losing the person he thought he would spend the rest of his life with. Even just the thought makes him feel like he is doing something bad, like he shouldn’t even be thinking about anyone but his wife, even years after the tragedy.

“Harry, look…” Gemma breathes out leaning against the counter next to her brother. “I know it’s a fucked up situation and I know things are still not in the right place in your head. But eventually you’ll have to move on. We all want to see you happy and I think that… I think Maggie would want that for you as well.”

Harry tries not to physically cringe at the name, the familiar pain is already clutching his heart, like it has been since the day of the accident. Some days are easier, some days are harder, but Gemma is right. Things are still not in the right place in his head and he knows that, he is just not sure how to fix it at this point.

“I’m not saying you should date Y/N, I’m not Niall to force anyone on you. I’m just telling you to try to get out a little more, just to test the waters. But you obviously like her so if it happens to be her, it wouldn’t be a big deal, if you ask me.”

Gemma shrugs and goes back to the cleaning while Harry keeps his swirling thoughts to himself. Two of the most important people have told him the same thing recently and though part of him wants to stubbornly go against it, his rational side knows that they might be right.

But not much can be done when a man is still blaming himself for the death of his own wife. Because that’s exactly the case when it comes to Harry and no one really knows that the thought has been haunting him for years now…

After taking a quick shower, washing your hair and changing into clothes that are not covered in flour, you join Harry and Gemma downstairs and insist on finishing the rest of the cleaning while they move out to the terrace to talk. The evening goes by peacefully, Harry decides to order dinner and Gemma joins the three of you at the dining table.

You love watching the dynamic between them and they truly seem to be very close. Gemma likes to embarrass Harry with stories from their childhood and you are enjoying them all a little too much maybe, but it’s nice to think that he wasn’t always this confident businessman.

“It was so good to meet you, Y/N!” Gemma hugs you goodbye after dinner.

“You too!”

“Bye Izzy, come and give a smooch for your favorite auntie!” Squatting down she lets Izzy wrap her arms around her neck as she kisses her cheek sloppily.

“Bye Gemma,” she singsongs. Harry pulls his sister into a hug as well before walking her out.

You start washing the dishes, Izzy talking to you about whatever show she was watching earlier on TV. When Harry returns he tells you to just leave the rest of the cleaning up for him while he bathes Izzy, but you don’t listen to him and finish up while they are upstairs.

Bringing your laptop down you settle on the couch and just start scrolling through social media, reading articles and whatnot, the TV quietly playing in the background. You send out an email regarding the wedding you are attending this weekend, making sure everything is in place.

When Harry emerges again he joins you on the couch with a tired sigh.

“Thanks for washing the dishes but you really should just leave it to me when I ask you to,” he smiles at you softly.

“It’s not a big deal, I like to be useful,” you chuckle shutting your laptop down.

“As if you’re not useful enough already,” he huffs smiling to himself. “Oh, before I forget, I wanted to talk to you about Izzy going to my mum’s.”

“Oh, yeah, you mentioned it earlier.”

“Yeah. So she is going to spend a week at my mother’s and I timed it to line up with Sarah and Mitch’s wedding. So I’ll leave her at my mum’s Sunday evening and pick her up the next Sunday which lines up perfectly with the wedding on Saturday. That week is obviously free for you as well, like a paid vacation,” he chuckles.

“Sounds good. How far does your mother lives from here?”

“Just a few hours, not that horrible of a drive. If you’re up for it, we can carpool to the wedding and then pick her up together right from there and head home.”

“Yeah, that works for me, thanks,” you nod.

Harry stays and turns his attention on the TV, seemingly pretty unbothered while you still haven’t stopped thinking about what happened in the kitchen earlier. Glancing over at Harry it appears that it’s not that big of a deal for him, so it makes you settle with the thought that it’s not one for you either.

“Good night, Harry,” you smile at him grabbing your laptop and phone as you rise from your seat.

“Nigh, Y/N,” he smiles as you round the couch and head upstairs, but you stop at the bottom of the stairs, lancing back at the mop of locks that’s visible from him from behind. You watch him run his fingers through his hair and you let out a shaky breath, knowing well you did not convince yourself that it was nothing. Not for you, at least.

Because you wanted him to kiss you.

The wedding you’re attending is held on a farm owned by the parents of the bride. The whole barn was transformed into this very country like fairytale location, lots of fairy lights and candles along with some nice, pastel colored flowers with a hint of purple between them.

Everything goes planned. Arriving you meet first with the groom and then with the bride in their separated rooms of the house, going over everything they want just one last time before you get down to work, snapping loads of pictures from them getting ready for the big day.

Emily, the bride is a chatty girl and all her bridesmaids are her sisters, coming from a big family with five daughters, she is the second oldest. The groom, Jesse is a few years older than Emily, but they are such a cute couple and they are clearly so madly in love, it’s always nice to see people be so happy with the right person.

You keep going back and forth between the groom and the bride and later you do the first look thing as well, when Jesse stands outside in the field and Emily walks up behind him, letting him see her for the first time. It really is always such a special moment and you tear up as well, watching Jesse fall speechless upon seeing his beautiful fiancé.

As the ceremony is about to start and the guests slowly take their seats on the two sides of the aisle, you make a quick trip down there to make sure you are using the right lenses, not wanting to change a lot when the ceremony has started. You stop in the corner, just trying out if you can shoot some pictures of the guests as well with the lens you are planning to use, you take a look around using the camera and that’s when you almost faint.

You would pick out that face from any, it has grown to you way too much, but you didn’t think you’d ever see him again. Lowering the camera you stare at the tall figure with parted lips, blinking a few times just to make sure it’s who you think it is.

But it is in fact your ex-fiancé, Keith, and to make it even worse, the woman standing next to him with his arm around her waist is the one he cheated on you with. They are still together and now you are staring right at them.

Tears sting your eyes as you try to look for a way to escape before he spots you, though you know he’ll see you sooner or later, but right now they are standing right at the entrance of the barn and you can’t avoid walking past them.

Keeping your head down you try to stay unnoticed as you march towards the exit, but you apparently, you are out of luck.

“Y/N? Is that you?” Keith calls after you just when you thought you were successful in sneaking out. Stopping in your tracks you seriously think about just running off, pretending like you didn’t even hear him, but it’s kind of too late and it would be ridiculous. So turning around on your heels, you plaster the fakest smile on your lips as you look at him.

“Keith, hi!” you breathe out, taking just a few steps closer to him, still keeping some distance between the two of you. Stella, the lucky woman on his arm blinks at you and at first you’re not even sure she realizes who you are or if she even knows you. The longer she looks at you the more certain you become that she indeed does not know that you’re the woman Keith cheated on with her. Nice.

Keith realizes that the two of you have been staring at each other awkwardly, so clearing his throat he quickly introduces the two of you to each other.

“Um, Y/N, this is Stella. Stella, this is… Y/N.”

You can tell he was thinking about using titles, but he decided to leave it at that, though it would have been a lot more interesting if he just titled the two of you.

Y/N, this is the woman I cheated on you with, who is my girlfriend now. Stella, this is Y/N, to whom I was engaged when I was fucking you!

You flash her a quick, not too honest smile and it seems like she is catching onto that something is not right, but she can’t tell for sure.

“What are you doing here?” Keith asks, a little harsher than you would have liked him to talk to you, but it’s kind of understandable. Seeing each other after what happened is not a pleasant experience for either of you, you assume. You hold up the camera as the answer for the stupid question and Keith furrows his eyebrows at you. “Oh, you still to the photography thingy?”

“Thingy?” you ask, quite offended. Keith always belittled your love for photography. He thought it was just a hobby, something that should stay just a hobby and not get turned into anything more. He once told you during a fight that it takes your time away from more important things, like doing chores. That was one of the most sexist things he has ever said to you and you should have packed your stuff right then and there. But you didn’t, stuck around for three more months before you found out about the cheating.

“Well, this thingy is kind of a side job for me,” you inform him.

“Oh. That sounds… fun,” he nods, but it’s clearer than daylight that he thinks it’s just a waste of time. Good thing he has no business in anything about you anymore.

“Um, I’m gonna go now, but I guess see you two around.” You shoot them another fake smile before turning around and walking away from this conversation straight from Hell.

Marching away from the barn you rush into the nearest bathroom you can find. You need a minute. Or maybe two… five. This did not just happen. You didn’t just face your cheating ex-fiancé with the woman he cheated on you, what kind of sick movie plot is this you found yourself in?

Placing your camera to the counter near the sink you wash your hands and sprinkle some water to your face as well before you lean to the edge of the sink, staring at your reflection in the mirror. You look like you’ve just seen a ghost and quite frankly, you would have been happier with the ghost than with Keith and Stella.

You’ve been doing alright since the breakup, but it’s obvious that only because you didn’t have to see Keith. Following the blowup when you found the explicit texts in his phone, you only had to face him twice and never since then. It’s easier to be okay when you don’t have to look at the person who hurt you most all the time, but coming face to face with him now really threw you off, especially with Stella on his arm. The fucker did not only cheat on you with her, but he went straight into a relationship with her and she probably doesn’t even know that she was just the sidechick in the beginning. If you were really evil, you’d go up to her and enlighten her about who you really are, but you are not one to cause a scene. Keith kept the two of you apart consciously, he never let you go into his office because he wanted Stella to think that he is a single man while he was engaged. Sickening to think how slyly he played the both of you and even after his little plan failed, he kept lying to the poor girl and lured her into a relationship. You wonder if he is already fucking another girl behind her back.

Your fingers start to turn white, gripping the edge of the sink tightly so you loosen up a bit, shaking your arms and shoulders off to pull yourself together. You fix your makeup and run your fingers through your hair quickly to give it some volume before grabbing the camera from the counter and heading out. However shocking it is to be at the same place as Keith again, you have a job to do right now and the bride and groom are expecting some amazing photos and that’s exactly what you’re gonna deliver.

You manage to busy yourself to the point where you are able to forget about Keith’s existence for most of the time. Following the happy couple around you don’t get too much free time, the camera is glued in front of your face basically and it brings you some peace. For a while.

Emily and Jesse disappear for an outfit change and it gives you a short break since they didn’t want that to be photographed, only when they return. So you get yourself a virgin cocktail from the bar and head outside to get some fresh air. You text back Heather and Trevor and then just scroll through Instagram, enjoying some alone time from the buzzing you’ve been around all day.

“Y/N!”

Turning to your right you spot Keith walking towards you, this time alone, but it doesn’t stop you from rolling your eyes.

“What do you want?” you mumble under your breath.

“Just… though we could chat for a little. It’s been a long time.”

“Not enough,” you retort. “And I would like to skip the chatting.”

“Come on, you can’t be still that mad at me,” he chuckles and you almost punch him in the face right then and there.

“Well I am. So go back to your little girlfriend and leave me alone.”

“I know things didn’t end too well, but that doesn’t mean we can’t be civil towards each other.” You can’t help the laughter that bubbles from your throat. He can’t be serious, trying to act like the bigger person now after everything he has done to you. This has got to be a joke.

“This is me being civil, because I’m not throwing anything at you. So leave me the fuck alone, let me do my job and then we hopefully don’t see each other again.”

“Come on. You don’t miss me, baby?” he smirks at you, completely ignoring what you just told him. You physically cringe at the pet name he just called you and you take a step away from him, needing the distance more than ever.

“I don’t. Now leave.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Too fucking bad. Now leave!” you raise your voice, but it does nothing. He is still standing there, looking at you like he didn’t completely destroy you just about a year ago.

“Heard that you haven’t dated anyone since we broke up.”

“Are you asking around after me?” you scowl.

“We have a few mutual friends,” he shrugs. “Is it because you still want me?”

“My dating life is none of your business, Keith. And I don’t want you. Quite frankly, I don’t even know how I could ever want you, so now please let me enjoy my break and leave me alone.”

“Y/N, I just—“ Keith reaches for your hand, but you pull back before he could touch you, holding up a finger at him you start talking slowly and very clearly so the message goes through.

“Don’t ever fucking touch me or talk to me. I want nothing to do with you, you’re a manipulating, cheating, egoistic asshole who ruins the life of others. I’m telling you this for the last time, Keith: leave me the fuck alone.”

He looks a bit stunned at your harsh response, but you couldn’t care less if you’ve hurt him. He did way worse things to you than snapping at you. As you walk past him to head back into the barn, he doesn’t let the chance to punch you in the stomach with his words one last time.

“I wish I could say you were a good fuck, but that wouldn’t be true. Good luck finding some lowlife loser who would even think about marrying you!”

Every fiber in your body is screaming to launch yourself at him and punch him until he is unconscious, because that’s exactly what he deserves. The tears are already stinging your eyes, but you don’t give him the satisfaction to see you react to his words. So swallowing hard you just keep on walking until you are out of his sight, bottling up the sobs and tears for the time when you’re home and on your own.

It’s past two am when you arrive home, drained and exhausted, both emotionally and exhausted. Following the conversation you had wit Keith he didn’t try to talk to you anymore, but you could always feel his eyes on you, wherever you were, as if he wanted to see if you are watching him too, but you weren’t. Looking at him would have been too painful so you tried your best to keep your eyes away from him through the night.

You know damn well that what he told you when you were leaving was just to get a reaction out of you, to get you upset enough to start a fight with him, it’s just who he is, he enjoys having the last word and the higher ground in every situation, but you didn’t want to be his partner in his stupid games this time. However it still hurt, what he said.

Walking into the dead silent house you kick your shoes off, drop your keys into the little bowl next to the door and head to the kitchen to get yourself some water. Pouring yourself a glass you lean against the counter and as you stare ahead of you, nothing can stop the tears from falling.

Everything you kept bottled up during the afternoon and evening just hits you all at once, making you break down heavier than any time in the past months. You sob and cry, letting it all out until your head feels like exploding, but you still can’t stop. You were not ready to face the man that broke your heart like no one before.

In the middle of your breakdown you don’t even realize the footsteps coming from the stairs.

“Y/N?” Harry’s voice calls out, snapping you out of your pity party. He immediately sees that you’ve been crying like a baby, no doubt, but you still try to wipe your cheeks and eyes, pretending like everything is totally fine.

“Harry! What are you doing up so late?” you breathe out hoarsely.

“Just wanted to get some water, but have you been crying? What happened, are you alright?” he starts bombarding you with questions, clearly worried about you, seeing you in this state.

“Everything is fine, I just… had a rough night,” you chuckle through your tears that are still rolling down your cheeks, those bastards!

“A rough night doesn’t make you sob like this. What happened?” Rounding the kitchen island he stops in front of you, not sure how to approach the situation, but it’s kind of sweet how he wants to help, but doesn’t know how.

“I, uhh—I met my… ex-fiancé tonight. He was at the wedding I worked at,” you mumble shutting your eyes closed.

“Did he hurt you? Y/N, if he laid a hand on you, I swear—“ “No, he didn’t hurt me,” you shake your head before adding: “Well, not physically.”

“Come on, let’s sit down for a bit.” He gently takes your hand and pulls you to the couch in the living room, making you sit before he plops down next to you. “Tell me what happened.”

“It’s really stupid, I shouldn’t be this upset about it, but I just… It hurt and I can’t change it,” you whine, wiping some more tears away.

“I’m sure it’s not stupid. Tell me what happened!”

“He was there with the woman he cheated on me with. They are basically a couple now, but she doesn’t even know that Keith was engaged to me when they started dating, so it’s really fucked up. And it wouldn’t have been that big of a deal, because, you know, fuck him, he can do whatever he wants, it’s not my business anymore, but then he came up to me and tried to chitchat with me, which I didn’t really want, of course.”

Harry listens carefully, giving you his undivided attention while you fumble with the hem of your shirt, kind of avoiding to look him in the eyes. Part of you is afraid you’d see judgment in them and you don’t think you would be able to handle that.

“I asked him to leave me alone, but he just kept talking and then I snapped at him a little harsher and when I was walking away he…”

You scowl again, hearing his words play in your head so clearly, as if he was standing behind you, repeating them to you. Harry reaches out and he gently covers your hand with his warm palm, giving it a gentle squeeze, letting you know that he is patiently waiting, not rushing you to talk. Taking a deep breath you blink your tears away before continuing.

“He basically said that I wasn’t even a good fuck and no man will want to marry me.”

“Jesus fuck, what kind of asshole did you date, Y/N?” Harry snaps in horror and it’s kinda funny, makes you laugh through your tears.

“Seems like the worst kind,” you mumble with a bitter chuckle. “I know I shouldn’t have let his words get to my head, but… it’s easier said than done. I feel like such a loser,” you breathe out, your lips trembling as the tears are threatening to flow again.

“Don’t blame yourself for having feelings, it’s completely normal. Of course his words hurt, he once meant a lot to you and he probably knows that too, that’s why he tried to use it against you. What he said held no truth.”

“You think so?” you ask, voice barely more than just a whisper as you finally look at him. His green irises appear so warm as he smiles at you, squeezing your hand again. He scoots a little closer, his knee bumping against the side of your thigh.

“Y/N, I know so,” he chuckles. “That guy was a proper idiot for what he did to you. You didn’t deserve any of that and any many would be lucky to have you as their wife.”

“Really?” you pout, feeling so touched and loved from his words. It’s exactly the reassurance you needed.

“Absolutely,” he nods smiling sweetly.

Everything that happened today messed with your head big time. And now sitting with Harry on the couch, listening to him telling you how worthy you are of love and happiness, it completely throws you off. Ever since that moment in the kitchen before Gemma walked in, you’ve been nonstop thinking about what would have happened and it made you notice even the tiniest things about him.

Harry Styles is a man who is clearly a sight for the eyes, with his chiseled jawline, pink lips and gorgeous green eyes, the duality of his powerful and business appropriate attires he wears during the day and the tattoos hidden under his dress shirts, you’d have to be blind to say that he is not an attractive man. But on top of everything on the outside, he is a wonderful person on the inside and it twists your head more than you’d like it.

Your brain switches off for a moment, or just the rational side, but you completely stop thinking as you stare at each other. The intimacy and emotionality of the moment pushes all your common sense to the side as your gaze wanders down his lips.

The thought of kissing him comes fast and before you could even stop yourself, you move forward and press your lips to his. The touch of his lips against yours is sweet and warm and kind of intoxicating, but in just a blink of the eye your rationality gets a grip of you and your eyes pop open in realization of what you just did. Pulling back you gasp and cover your mouth in shock, feeling your whole inside trembling at the thought of getting yourself fired by this move.

Harry seems frozen and quite shocked as well, his lips are parted as he stays still in his spot.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry, I-I don’t know what’s gotten into me! Harry, I’m sorry, I promise—“

You start rambling in panic, but you don’t get to finish. Harry moves forward, his hand coming to the back of your head as he pulls you in for another kiss, this time making it a lot more passionate and even your tongues get involved. He is kissing you hard and you almost moan into his mouth when you feel his other hand come to your thigh, squeezing it just enough to send a shockwave up your spine. Your hands come up to the back of his hair and you hold onto him for dear life, carrying the kiss on like you’re two teenagers in your parents’ basement, doomed to get caught any moment. Harry goes in again and again, tugging on your bottom lip, licking into your mouth and making your insides twist just from having his lips on yours.

And then you both let go of each other, needing some time to breathe and you slowly realize what just happened. You both stare at each other in disbelief, completely shocked at your own actions, but neither of you have any idea what should happen next.

You let go of each other, sitting back to your normal positions, awkwardly breathing heavily and you realize you cannot deal with this right now. You are way too drained and tired to make it make sense so you decide to just… call it a night.

“I’ll head to bed,” you quietly inform him as you stand up from the couch, walking like a zombie, the shock still clouding your judgment.

“Good night,” Harry mumbles, just as confused as you are.

“Good night,” you nod and basically sprint up the stairs and don’t stop until you shut your door behind you.

Leaning your back against it, you slide down to the floor, hugging your knees to your chest as you stare into the darkness for long minutes. Quite some time passes by before you hear Harry walk upstairs, his door opens and then closes before silence falls on the house again. With a blank mind, you push yourself up, take a quick shower and just go to bed, ignoring everything that has happened today. You’ll deal with it in the morning.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

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tparker48 · 3 years

Text

Request for Preyslavee

Today Tyler's folks were out of town as they called him to watch the house. He would be sitting in the living watching a little bit of TV as he enjoyed his snacks.

"So this what its like to be an to run the house. Sure im small, but at least the folks trust me to look after it. Don't have work breathing down my neck, got the tv, and more importantly, i got the house all to myself" Tyler said stretching his body before slouching onto the couch. "Ah, nothing can stop it from where im sitting" as he watched the television, a shadow appeared above him as giant ass hovered above. Before he could react, it soon hurtled towards as his vision was covered my mounds of muscle. He was able to shout on the inside. But on the outside, nothing but the softened muffle was the only thing to signal where he was underneath.

"Surprise squirt! Didn't expect to see my little brother here"

"Grgh! Daniel?! What are you doing here?"

"What's it look like im doing? Watching the house to keep it safe. And it looks like i caught a slacker" he felt Tyler push against his cheeks as he felt his little limbs sink into him. He then tauntly rocked his ass ontop before getting up. "Heh, you're punier than i remember. You sure you didn't get smaller".

"Peh!And i see you still have rank smell" Tyler said as ge spat to the side. "Nah! I gotta change clothes now!" Tyler hopped off the couch as he walked along the carpet. Doing his vest to ignore his older brother as his smug face towered over him.

"Aww, don't like the smell. I think it suits you well squirt".

"Shut your face!"

"Ah i remember way back when we was younger. The fun you and i used to have, boy were those the good times" Daniel following behind him. Purposefully moving his feet closer as he nudged into Tyler's back with his toes.

"Those were not good times! Half the time we spent was almost against some parts of your body"

"Ah that you were. Still remember swim day at the beach. Ahaha! Seeing ya squirming my shorts was the best feeling after that swim. Still remember exactly where your outline was. Riight there underneath my c-"

"Gyaah! Do not even bring that one up" Tyler shivered. "Can't even sleep on pillow without thinking THAT. Im heading to my room, you can have the front and-" A foot would land in his paths as bumped into the side. Following back as it lead to Daniel.

"Ah ah ah, i wanna spend some quality time with my wittle brother. Its been almost 6 months since the last time we hanged out together. Come here you!"

"Hey hey! What are you-grgh!" a firm hand gripped around Tyler as he was lifted upward. He tried struggling to get free, but the pressure wouldn't let up. "Let me..go!"

"Not before you meet your old friend mister belly" with the hand holding tyler, he lifted his shirt as his slight pudgy belly wobbled out from underneath. He soon brought his gripped hand closer as he splayed it across his belly button. With Tyler being in the center as the surface jiggled. "Go on, say hello".

Tyler could barely move as the hand held him into the squishy surface of the belly. The. Sounds of churns lingered and ranged through his ears as the sound of his brother's voice even echoed inside. As the gurgles went into a more deeper tone, he staryed to push against it as the belly morphed around him. But the hand behind didn't move. "Nrrgh! Get..off me!"

"Aw you're so mean to mean mr. Belly, he's your old friend afterall. Say...why don't you pay to pay him a visit".

"What?! No!"

"Yeah, that sound like a great idea" Daniel started to lift Tyler above him as he gaped his mouth open. Sprawling his tongue out in the process as drool dripped partially from.

"No no no! Stop!"

"Heh" as he let go, Daniel watch as Tyler vanished passed his nose before feeling his body slide along his tongue. As felt pressure further inside as slowly start to close it.

Tyler soon saw the light of the hallway begin to darken as he tried to climb back up. But the large tongue would keep him from making progress as it waved underneath. "Ah ah" a taunting tone echoed inside the mouth. Before the lips sealed and left him in the dark. "No!" He yelled before everything around him started to shuffle. Though he couldn't see, he felt the tongue underneath begin to twist around him as he felt himself being dragged around the mouth.

On the outside, Daniel would walk around the house as he went back to the living room. Sitting down on the couch as he toyed with his little brother inside his mouth. He moved him with hus tongue to the left cheek as the his brother voice could be heard in the compact flesh. Before disappearing and then reappearing at the other as he rubbed hus tongue up and down as he enjoyed the feeling of Tyler struggling inside. He rubbed him a couple more times side before letting his mouth gape back open. Letting Tyler have a glimmer of hope as he tried crawling his way out.

He managed to get out partially grom his brother's mouth, but only hanged as his shoes rested between daniels teeth. W-what?!".

"Enjoy the ride down squirt" Daniel flicked his head upward as he tossed Tyler into the air. As he came back down, Daniel would be eying him with his mouth open wide as Tyler plopped inside. Closing it back up, he tilted his head further back as he felt a slight bulge at the back of his neck. The sensation of kicks lingering at the end of his tongue as it slid into the tube.

"Daniel no!"

**gulp**

As Daniel's throat clenched, a bulge slid down its length as Tyler's voice echoed beyond the surface. Slowly traveling further below before softening as it past his collar bone. On the inside, Tyler could barely see or hear anything but the sounds of clenching muscles surrounded him. Doing his best to move his body to stop his decent, but the muscles didn't respond as they slid Tyler down. As he was squeezed through the sphincter, his body was deposited into Daniels stomach as he landed against the sponge like walls. "Daniel, let me out of here! You know mom and dad said not do this again!"

"They aren't here, which means you get spend good old time with Mr. Belly" Daniel placed both hands along the sides of his belly as he juggled it around. Tyler felt the area come alive and hus balance become unstable as he wobbled from one side of the belly to the other.

"Daniel! Stop it! Im...ooh im dizzy"

"Heh, still get see sick huh? Aw that's shame, cause its gonna be a bumpy ride in there. Oooh, which brings me to tonights dinner. We're having pasta tonight. Or well, heh me"

"You are not having dinner with in here. Im gonna cause you a hell of a belly before you even know what's" Tyler yelled as he pushed against stomach's walls. But only received a push back as he fell over.

"Aha! A belly ache, That's a good one" Daniel started to make his way to down the hall as he made his way to the kitchen as he prepared a meal for the night. Mixing and cooking with the materials he had available, he focused on the sensation going on from within as he heard Tyler yelling at the too of his lungs deep inside his body.

About an hour passed as Tyler slouched against stomach wall. Accompanied the stomach's churns as the sounds of silverware muffled beyond them. "Nah, hiw do i get myself in these types of situations. From being nearly sat on to now being in a lousy brother's belly" Tyler sighed. "Well, at least its empty. And besides, they he couldn't eat that much pasta right?" Movement started to cause the stomach to gurgle before the opening above began to open. A large noodle would seep its way through as it landed onto his lap. As Tyler tries to process it, another piece fell into the stomach as meaty chunks followed it. "Oh no.." Fluid would start to fill the chamber as the scent of lemons mixed with the must. "Stop eating! There's no room. Daniel!"

With the prepared meal, Daniel would be sitting on the couch as he forked through the pasta in front of him. Continuing to wolf it down as ye eased it inside with a cold cup of lemonade. "Daniel!" Was the only thing he heard come out from the his growing belly as he felt the food in his join in with the rest of his stomach. He only chuckled to himself as he gave him stomach a firm pat and a rub.

The inside would just about be filled up the brim as food continued to fall inside. Tyler barely staying out of the chewed food as he perched against an indention in the wall. The food starting to climb its way towards the Tyler's safe place as some of the liquid splashed over his. "Please stop filling, please stop filling, please stop filling" he hope as the content reached the edge. Lightly spilling itself into as it slightly rocked. But before the it fill the gap, it stopped as the sphincter above closed back in place.

"I can barely feel you in there Tyler. But i can sure feel that food" Daniel released a loud belch as he gave his stomach a firm pat. "Id give you some, you probably already have a belly full of it hehe" he started to hear Tyler's muffled lingering from inside as he turned the volume on the TV all the way up. "What's that? i can't hear ya over television, you'll have to speak up in there haha. Don't worry, I'll let you tomorrow. Big brother promises".

"Daniel, so help me if you don't get me out of this, you'll be sorry! You hear me?!" Tyler yelled inside, but was only met with the muffled sounds of the television. He gazed at the pile of food spread out below him as he watched the contents wobble inside. The belly firmly clenching around them as they as bits splashed into Tyler's legs. "Ah come on!" Tyler tried his best to rub off the chunks that landed into him, but they would got aways as he resulted to fanning his hands. He soon heard the sounds of snoring as the stomach began to rumble. "Is he...sleeping? Oh no no, you Can't go to sleep! Daniel! Damn it, Daniel wake up!...Gah!" Before Tyler could react, he felt the area flip over as the contents created a wave and crashed into him. He could tell which way was up as he swam around before deciding to follow the stomach's side walls. Eventually he resurfaced, but could finding a footing anywhere. "Peh!....Peh! Daniel....peh! Wake up!"

On the outside, Daniel would be turned on his side as he gave his belly a firm scratch. Feeling the contents inside jiggle underneath as he focused on the churns. "Mmm, now that was some good food. Enjoy your stay in my stomach...Tyler" he mumbled before drifting off.

The next morning:

Daniel would wake up to the sound of the Tv going on as he sluggishly opened his eyes. Turning off the Tv, He stood up to his feet as he scratched his belly. "Man what a night. That pasta last night really hit the spot" as he started to walk forward, he had a hand on his stomach as he walked around the house.

The commotion would catch Tyler attention as feel the belly start to move. "He's awake? He's awake! Daniel!" Tyler yelled standing to his feet. The food he was once swimming in now formes into puddle as he pounded into the walls once more. "Daniel! let me out of here!"

"Hmm, there was something i needed to do from last night. But what was it?"

"It was to get me out Daniel. Daniel?!"

"Hmm..." He went to the kitchen as he searched the fridge. He saw a carton of milk that was half empty as his stomach growled. "That's right!"

"Yes! He's starting to remember. Now i can finally-"

"I forgot to get more milk for my apartment"

"What?!"

"I better get some along the way. Don't want the miss to be breathing down my neck again" Daniel soon started to get dressed as he went for the door.

"No no, Daniel! That wasn't it! That wasn't it!" Tyler pounded at the the fleshy wall for Daniel to hear. But the sounds of the stomach's shifts masked it as Daniel left. Leaving him to endure the constant churns as he awaits for him to remember his promise.

148 notes · View notes

peach-pops · 4 years

Note

hai! i love your hc so much and i just done reading the akaashi with karasuno's manager, it's so cute! can you please make it again but with kuroo or tsukishima? thanks a lot 😄🖤

I frickin love Kuroo so this was just so easy to write. Like as I was writing this, I was making myself giddy UGH I wish he was real. ANYWAY I still used the training camp storyline because those episodes just hit differently. Also keep sending requests!

Kuroo’s Crush on the Karasuno Manager

I always make it a point to say that Kuroo is a huge dork but I firmly believe that when he is interested in someone, he will stop at nothing to make it known how he feels so keep that in mind

When the training camp starts, Kuroo is actually pretty excited because he has friends on the other teams and it just makes the experience more fun than playing against strangers

He knows that Karasuno is coming but he is totally caught off guard when he sees you walk in with the team because the last time Nekoma played against Karasuno, you weren’t a manager so Kuroo is like ???? pretty girl????

Kuroo does a double-take when he sees you and he is not ashamed to stare at you from across the gym. I know in his mind he’s thinking “ what the hell are they putting in Karasuno’s water?” because literally everyone from Karasuno is hot and that’s a fact

You can feel a pair of eyes on you but in a room full of people it’s kinda hard to pinpoint who but when you see Kuroo staring back at you, you almost choke on your water because you think he’s too attractive to even be real

“ Y/N-are you okay?” You feel Daichi pat your back as you nod back quickly and you literally face the opposite direction because you’re so embarrassed

It doesn’t last long because now, you have to get into manager mode since Nekoma and Karasuno are on the court next

During the game, Kuroo is absolutely killing it I mean this dude is always on his toes but he’s moving faster than ever today because he wants to get your attention

You’re more focused on your team since you have to take notes but whenever Kuroo makes a point, you both look up at each other and he smiles as if he’s confirming that you saw his shot

Of course, Nekoma ends up winning and while the Karasuno boys are outside running for losing, Kuroo uses this chance to try and talk to you

“ I couldn’t help but notice that I caught your attention, like what you see?”

“ Oh please, don’t let it get to your head. I’m just doing my job Captain.”

Kuroo feels his confidence boost up when he hears you call him that because you know that dude lets it go straight to his head

“ So now we have nicknames for each other? This is perfect I was already creating a list of what I could call you, how does future wife sound?”

“ Wow. That was.... terrible. You really need to work on your flirting skills cause this won’t work on other girls.”

“ Does that mean it’s working on you?”

You shake your head and laugh as you look off to the side like you’re on the office because bruh, of course, it’s working on you but you’re not going to give him the satisfaction

He uses the pause in the conversation to introduce himself but right after you introduce yourself, you get called to help the boys with their water

Daichi is totally staring Kuroo down btw

You say your quick goodbyes but even as your walking away, Kuroo is still standing there with his hands on his hips and a huge smirk on his face because while you’re not giving into him completely, he loves a challenge

Most of the day, Nekoma and Karasuno are both on their own courts playing matches at different times of the day and it seems like every time you both have a free minute, something always comes up

Kuroo actually feels super down because he actually wants to have a conversation with you but you’re super busy during dinner

plus he can’t get a word in around you when the Karasuno boys are guarding you like hawks

You were feeling so drained from the day so after dinner, you go straight to bed but in the middle of the night you have to use the restroom so you get up and walk over in the dark to the nearest one which is down the hall

You’re pretty freaked out because it is pretty dark and before bed, the boys were telling scary stories so you were definitely paranoid that someone was going to come up from behind a corner and murder you

After you finished up in the bathroom, you walked back to the room but you bump into someone and you could feel your soul leave your body and you let out the wimpiest shriek ever

“ Wha- It’s me!” Kuroo whispers loudly before he lets out a louder laugh,” you are so easy to scare I didn’t even do anything!”

“ I was not scared! I was just startled...there’s a difference. What are you even doing up?”

Kuroo holds up some money and nods towards the end of the hallway,” Vending machine, you should come with me. I can walk you back to your room after so you don’t get scared again and wake up the whole school.”

You let out an annoyed huff but you walk side by side with Kuroo as the two of you silently chat about how the training camp is going

Even though there’s hardly enough light, Kuroo still can’t help but stare at you when you’re not looking up at him.

He knows everything between the two of you is just playful for now but he knows he is already catching feelings and he hasn’t even known you for a full day

Kuroo gets two drinks in the vending machine and hands you one before he sits down against the wall. He uses it to see if you’ll join him or not and luckily you accept his offer and sit down right beside him

“ You know, we’re gonna beat Karasuno again tomorrow, I just wanted to give you a heads up.”

“ That’s pretty bold of you to say. You’ve seen how the guys play, they’re starting to get a real rhythm going and I wouldn’t be surprised if we turn things around tomorrow” You smirked as you leaned your head against the wall.

The thing about Kuroo was that gears were always turning in his head and working overtime. He wasn’t a crazy overthinker by any means but he was always thinking of ideas so he started developing a plan in his head

“ Tell you what, let’s make a bet right here. If Nekoma wins tomorrow, you have to go on a date with me.”

LOOK AND LISTEN Kuroo is hardly ever this bold with a girl he likes no matter what anybody says but he knows that there’s a small possibility that could say yes and that’s all he needs to boost his ego

“ And what if you guys lose?”

“ Trust me, we won’t lose, shake on it?”

You look down at Kuroo’s hand and without a second thought, you shake it softly,” Good luck Captain. You’ll need it.”

TRUST ME Kuroo did not get a wink of sleep because all he could think about that night was where he would take you two on a date because obviously, he knew Nekoma would win, especially now since he had even more motivation than the day before

You weren’t sure why you were so nervous to watch Karasuno and Nekoma’s game because after all, it wasn’t like it was a real tournament but you could feel that the overall vibe on the court gym was different

If you thought Kuroo was playing aggressively yesterday, than oh boy you were in for it when this game rolled through

Not a single ball went through Kuroo when he was at the front. This boy was DETERMINED to land a date with you

With every point Nekoma lost, that only fueled Kuroo to do even better than before and it was no surprise that Nekoma took both sets

After the teams shook hands and thanked each other for the game, Kuroo headed straight towards you with the biggest smile on his face

“ So, what do you think?”

“ Mm, I think you’re pretty sweaty to be honest,” you laughed as Kuroo used the back of his hand to wipe his forehead,” but congratulations, you actually weren’t half bad. I’m guessing I owe you a date then?”

“ Yep, seems like it. Although if you want to go ahead and congratulate me in some other way, I wouldn’t stop you,” Kuroo tapped his cheek with his finger as he leaned his head down for you to kiss his cheek.

OMG IM SO IN LOVE WITH HIM JUST IMAGINE GAHHHH

You rolled your eyes as you felt the eyes of some of the Nekoma and Karasuno players looking towards the two of you. You stood up on your tippy-toes as you pressed a light kiss onto his cheek which earned some oooooos from Nekoma and curses from Karasuno

“ KUROO STEP AWAY FROM HER IF YOU VALUE YOUR LIFE!”

“ Aw that’s cute, look at Daichi being protective.”

“ Um, no,he’s serious. You should really go now.”

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bbugyu · 4 years

Text

can i kiss you yet? + hong joshua

a mutual friend always made a great excuse to see you, but he definitely wanted more.

wc.2.4k | joshua x gn!reader, fluff, first snow au, foreigners in korea squad up, josh is a tutor u are an ambiguous worker everything is vague shhh, there are really no warning this is just fluff, oh drinking, but only the once, miss park chaeyoung please text me back

haha..... i am....... im not........... im in my joshie feels ok do not talk to me about it im embarrassed. thanks @babiemingoo for ruining my life by saying joshua would fall in love with me, and i quote, "no cap."

you spent a lot of time with joshua. by proxy, mostly, but you enjoyed his company nonetheless. your best friend called him her brother - they weren't related by blood, but by circumstance, having separately moved to korea at an old enough age to take care of themselves but young enough to still need the support of someone going through something similar. they were neighbors, and rosie had no way of stopping him from barging through her front door at all hours of the day. she always yelled at him to let her have some privacy. he insisted that if she was doing something that required privacy, then she should tell him beforehand. you always just laughed from your spot on the couch.

joshua would smile and put up a hand when he pretended to notice you for the first time, as though you weren't the express reason he had made an excuse to show up. "hi, y/n."

you would smile back and wiggle your fingers at him. "hi, josh."

this happened almost every time you came over to rosie's apartment, and while you never intended to see him, you would be lying if you said it wasn't a lovely benefit.

she rolled her eyes. "don't you have a job?"

"that's the great thing about being an online tutor," joshua said, making himself comfortable on the opposite end of the couch from you. "flexible scheduling."

you realized you had never asked him about his work. "what do you tutor?"

he looked at you, and you thought you saw a flash of nervousness in his eyes before he grinned. "english. and korean. and algebra. and calculus, sometimes."

"that's, like," you paused, your head knocking to one side. "impressive?"

"is it?" he laughed. "i just voice chat with high school students in sweats."

you shrugged. "i'm bad at math and i'm pretty sure i'd be bad at teaching, so anything like that is impressive to me."

he nodded, the corner of his mouth quirked upwards. it was hard for him to believe that you could be bad at anything, but he figured math was an okay thing to be lacking in. "noted."

rosie coughed loudly, making you both direct your attention to where she was leaning against the kitchen counter. "if you guys are done, i would love someone's help deciding what kind of pizza to get."

when you left hours later, rosie asked joshua why he even came over, trying to imply that he was taking too long to admit he liked you.

he pouted out his lips and shook his head. "no reason. i just heard you talking to someone and wanted to make sure you're not inviting over weirdos."

she gave him a sideways glare, knowing that if that were the truth, he would have come over when mingyu showed up the day before. or wonwoo last week. or any of her other friends that frequented her studio apartment. but conveniently, he only ever barged in when it was you, and she had a suspicion that it was because he had learned to recognize your laugh through the thin walls.

the first time you ever met joshua, it was at a bar. you and some work friends had agreed to get drinks together, and when your coworker-turned-bestie got a call from her neighbor saying she got a package, you nudged her.

"is he your oppa, like, just a guy, or like a boyfriend?"

she squinted at you, registering your language switch "ew! oh my god, he's just a guy. he's like a brother."

you heard an indignant noise over the line at her exclamation, and you giggled as you guided the straw in your cocktail to your lips.

"am i lying, joshua?" rosie said, rolling her eyes. "are you not like my brother?"

"joshua?" your eyebrows quirked up, realizing he had an english name, and only processing after the fact that he also understood her. "is he like us?"

"foreign?" rosie asked, looking at you. "yeah, he's from la."

you looked at her expectantly. "well, is joshua free tonight?"

she laughed at you, but redirected the question over the phone anyways, then promptly invited him out to join you at the bar, and he said he could be there in 45 minutes. he arrived with 6 minutes to spare (not that you were watching the clock, but you totally were), and rosie waved him down to join your table, quickly introducing him to the coworkers you had deemed fun enough to hang out with.

"and this is y/n," she said, grabbing your arm. she leaned over to joshua, pretending to whisper. "the other foreigner."

you laughed and shook his hand, saying it was nice to meet him. he smiled back, warmly, and returned the sentiment. he was korean, you realized, despite being from america, and he was incredibly handsome. like, absurdly so, in a way that felt impossible in reality, yet here he was, gaze flickering over your face as you brought your (new) drink to your lips, and the liquid almost caught in your throat when you saw an entire galaxy twinkling in his eyes. you blinked when he went to get a drink, thinking you must be drunker than you thought to have mistaken the reflection of the fairy lights that littered the bar as galaxies, but for some reason, your initial impression seemed to suit him more.

months later, you went to rosie's apartment just to drop off some food - you were teaching yourself how to make korean side dishes, and she volunteered to be your auxiliary food tester if you made too much, which, big surprise, you absolutely did. she made fun of your cooler bag and your big puffy jacket, saying you reminded her of the grandma down the hall, and you laughed heartily as you made your way to her kitchen.

she had an essay to write, so you didn't stick around. shortly after you announced your leave and exited to the hall, the next door opened.

"oh," joshua said, hand still gripping the handle of his front door as he made surprised eye contact with you. "you're leaving already?"

you pursed your lips to hide a smile, wrapping your scarf around your neck. "already?"

"you usually, um," he paused, his hand going to the back of his neck, the other pushing into the pocket of his jeans. "you're usually around for a few hours."

you giggled. "i was just dropping off some food, rosie has an essay to write."

he puffed out a cheek and nodded slowly as he let it deflate. "i guess i shouldn't bother her, then."

you watched him avoid your gaze, then peeked slyly past him into his apartment. you had never been, but it looked neat. neutral. comforting. it seemed like him.

the jig was up, joshua thought, studying your eyes briefly. you clearly knew he only ever barged into his neighbor's apartment because you were there. he had obviously just given it away, but maybe you had always known, and you had just let him think he was convincing when he said he had no idea you were over. but maybe he was okay with that, because you never complained. and maybe that meant you liked seeing him, too.

"are you busy?" he asked suddenly. "i don't mean to keep you, but-"

you shook your head quickly. "i don't have plans."

"uh," he turned to his apartment before looking back at you briefly. "let me grab a jacket, i'll walk you home."

you couldn't help but smile. "okay."

joshua made sure he was quick to get his winter coat and a scarf, but instinctively adjusted his bangs in a mirror and checked his breath. he silently scolded himself for making this out to be something that it wasn't - he was walking you home, not taking you out. but he hoped he would work up the nerve to ask before the end of the walk.

"ready?" you asked, pushing off the wall you were leaning against as you waited.

he smiled at you, silently hoping he was. "yeah, let's go. it's gonna start getting dark soon."

when the two of you exited the apartment building, hands shoved into pockets, joshua commented that it felt like it was gonna snow.

"i think the forecast said tomorrow," you mused, looking up at the overcast sky.

he stared at you as you walked beside him, your lips curved upward in a vague smile as you thought about how much you liked the snow, and when you looked over and caught his gaze, he redirected his eyes just a little too late, then laughed at his own behavior. "sorry, you looked really cute just then."

you couldn't help but smile, nuzzling down into your scarf to hide it. "as opposed to normally, when i don't."

"not what i said," he defended immediately. "i think you always look cute."

you giggled into your scarf, hoping he couldn't see how flustered you felt. "thank you. i think you always look cute, too."

you caught a small smile sneak onto his face as he looked down at his shoes. "thanks."

joshua had never once seemed shy to you. a little hesitant, maybe, when you had first met him, but he exuded confidence. you got the impression that he knew himself better than anyone, and he was happy to express himself genuinely around people that accepted him. he was a bit of a smooth talker, you thought. he had a way of saying exactly what people wanted to hear, whether it was true or not. but today, now, he seemed genuinely reserved. quieter. like he wasn't quite sure what to say to you as you walked side by side on the sidewalk, headed to your apartment.

"what kind of food did you bring to roseanne?" he asked, trying to fill the quiet.

"standard fare," you said, smiling at how he used her full name. "kimchi, seasoned beansprouts, sweet potatoes, fishcakes."

"oh, korean?" he asked, looking at you. "i didn't know you cooked like that."

your lip quirked into a smile at the reaction. "i'm practicing. gotta please a korean husband if i wanna get a permanent visa, y'know."

"right," he said, nodding at your joking tone. "a korean husband."

you blinked, eyes focusing on something in the air, then looked up. "oh my god, is it snowing?"

joshua tore his gaze from you, looking around at the flakes that were gently falling from the sky. "i told you it was gonna snow."

"but the forecast said tomorrow!" you laughed, pulling a hand out of your pocket to try to catch some flakes. "has it snowed yet since new year?"

his heart fluttered lightly as he watched you shove your hand back into your pocket. "no, not yet."

you looked over at him and giggled at how much snow had gathered on his dark hair. "oh, jeez, it's starting to come down." you reached out to him, brushing some flakes off his bangs, and he hoped you thought his ears were just red from the cold. "if we don't hurry, you're not gonna be able to walk home."

that wouldn't be the end of the world, joshua thought. maybe if the snow fell heavy enough, you would tell him to sleep on your couch instead of trekking home. maybe the two of you could chat, alone, just enjoying company until too late in the night. and maybe your heating would go out again, like you often complained about, and maybe the two of you could wind up under the same blanket as you got sleepier.

"do you know that belief?" he asked, glancing at you as you walked. "what koreans say about first snow?"

you looked over to him. "no," you said shortly, switching to korean. "what is it?"

he laughed, but continued in english. "they say that if you're with someone during the first snow of the year, you'll stay together for a long time."

you stopped in your tracks, and he only made it two steps in front of you before he turned, looking at you questioningly. "together?"

he gave a short affirmation, blinking and looking away as he shifted his stance. "yeah, like-" he paused. "supposedly, if you confess during the first snow, it's good luck. or something like that."

you stared at him, studying his eyes as he avoided your gaze, a tiny smile creeping across your face. "josh."

he looked at you, eyebrows quirked. "w'sup?"

you giggled. "are you talking about us right now?"

"oh, are you confessing to me?" he asked, eyes wide and making you laugh as he slowly closed the short distance between you. "confessing during the first snow, wow. you must really like me. y'know, i always kind of thought you had a crush on me."

you rolled your eyes. "yet it took you four months to mention it?"

his nose scrunched up as he grimaced apologetically. "i'm sorry for making you wait," he said, quietly and in korean, close enough that you felt his breath on your skin. you just shook your head at him.

"i made you wait, too."

he looked between your eyes, and you couldn't help but feel like the snow was melting around you from his warm you felt. "can i kiss you yet?"

you let out a breathy giggle, enjoying the way his eyes creased as he smiled at you. "of course you can."

this moment, joshua realized, was one that he had imagined a million times in his head. in a million different scenarios throughout the last four months, he had imagined how incredible it would be to feel your lips against his. and when he finally found himself there, his fingers brushing against your cheek as he pulled you into him, the first snow of the year falling around you, he realized he had imagined it all wrong. because despite thinking that you definitely had the most beautiful lips that he could ever press his to, he had not accounted for the fact that you were smiling, and he was too, and that made them the sweetest. the most fun. the most exciting.

and he hoped you would let him keep kissing you for a long time.

#im AJABWJBSJABSHAN this is HDHSHCBDNANJSBAJZ i feel so HCBSJXNSHDHDJBS #ok tags #caratwritersclub #joshua scenarios #joshua imagines #joshua fluff #joshua hong imagines #joshua hong scenarios #joshua hong fluff #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #seventeen fluff #josh #i wrote dis #the way a kink ship given to an asexual was enogh to make said asexual fall in love with someone #this is so sad alexa play baby don't stop #also alexa play lingerie by lizzo #at the same time #ok im gonna go lay down again ❣️

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poptod · 3 years

Text

The Breeding Kings pt. 2, (Ahkmenrah x Reader)

Description: Creeping closer.

Notes: can you tell how much im geeking out on the pyramid section of this. can you. now i want you to guess how long i researched it for a scene that was only supposed to be a few paragraphs and some dialogue. WC: 8.9k (sorry)

The way back to your house was a slow crawl, but a necessary evil. After the incident in which your clothes were ruined, Ahkmen offered to clean your clothes for you, a task you knew little about and usually didn't have to do in the first place. You accepted, though there was an issue––you didn't own any other clothes.

Rushlights in your tiny bedroom dimly reflected off the hanging silks and shawls, bathing the room and your skin in deep purples and reds darkened by both the evening and the smoke of incense.

Cloth rustled in the other room, making your shoulders seize up. The funny little Egyptian man who had taken up most of your evening with laughter was not someone you could fully trust, but few were, and you could still enjoy his companionship for the remaining minutes of the evening. He would leave soon––with your clothes––and you would not be able to leave your home until he returned with them. Nudity was fine in Egypt, but you weren't Egyptian. It was an uncommon practice to you.

You could physically feel your face flush with embarrassment, your chest tightening when he said your name in a soft voice. Unable to respond, you continued to strip yourself of the muddy garments, setting them carefully in a pile on a part of the floor that didn't have any carpet.

"Yogi?" He asked again. You whipped around to the curtain separating you from him, but found it vacant as always.

"Give me time," you said, your voice trembling slightly as you attempted to pull your pants off your hopping feet. "Taking off mud is hard."

"Oh, I know," he said, suddenly much closer to you, but still not breaching the curtain. "I'm a little less drunk right now so I wanted to try and pronounce your name, so... what was it again? Sorry."

"It is okay," you chuckled. "My name is Yogasundari.”

"Ah, right. Yogatsundera?"

"Yoga-soon-dahry."

"Yogasundari?"

"There you go," you said with a smile, happy to hear your full name from someone else after a long while of dealing with a horrid nickname.

With that, you pulled off the last of your clothes, removing the jewelry that had belonged to your family. Those you placed on your desk, but the clothes you folded best you could before timidly approaching the curtain leading to the funny Egyptian man. You couldn't quite remember his name, making your next actions all the more embarrassing, reaching forward to pull away the fabric.

"I finish this," you said, poking your head out, your extended hand beneath you.

Ahk moved to grab the pile, but stopped when he noticed your silhouette, now clear against the rushlight behind you. His breathing halted, caught in his chest. When he met your eye, he remembered himself, keeping his gaze above your shoulders as he took the clothes.

"You do return quick, yes?" You asked pointedly.

"I'll be back here tomorrow."

"Good. I have a work in the morning."

He held the clothes away from his body, but a giddiness ran through him that brought him to a quiet carelessness. His feet worked faster, an intrinsic smile on his face, and his home, the palace, fast approaching.

The whole of the evening accompanied him as he walked. In less than 12 hours he'd gotten the necklace back, 'beat' Panya in a drinking contest, flirted (albeit drunkenly) with an incredibly pretty brewer, and possibly even made friends with someone with entirely different life experiences from himself. The only drawback was that you were clearly not a fan of the royal family despite your liking of Egypt.

What had been his cover name?

Ak'anpu, if he recalled correctly through his drunken haze of a night. His name, and then Anubis', as Piye had called him.

Oh, Piye's gonna fucking love this, he thought as a grin spread across his face, his speed hastening as he approached the palace steps.

By morning the servants had finished washing your clothes, leaving them to hang in the laundry room till they were picked up. Ahkmen didn't notice it, as he was awakened by his servant Naguib, and his first waking thoughts were of unpleasantries against the bright morning sun.

Naguib pulled open the drapes shielding Ahk's room from the outside, leaving the long, intricate arches to cast the sun's glow directly onto Ahkmen's bed. He groaned, flipping over onto his stomach as he twisted in his sheets.

"Good morning, my Prince. You have school at Osiris' temple today, but nothing else. The Pharaoh instructed me to tell you that he is having dinner with the emissaries from Ebla when they arrive within the week. He wants you to attend," Naguib said as he opened Ahkmen's closet, pulling out the Prince's usual daily clothes.

"Is it optional?"

"Ask your father."

Once Ahkmen was safe and back in his clothes, he ran down to the laundry rooms, fetching your clothes and stopping by the kitchens for a tiger roll. He barely stopped to talk to any of the servants, moving on his way at a fast pace that sent him skipping down the stone pathways of Memphis. Ahkmen wasn't small by any means, but he had a way of moving about crowds, slinking through groups and keeping quick on his feet.

Piye managed to find him a couple turns before the temple, grabbing the crook of his arm and interrupting the Prince's stride.

"Ahk," they said as they turned him round.

"Piye!"

"How did it go last night?" They asked, picking back up into a walk.

"Wonderful. I think I remember most of it, too! I got my mother's necklace back, so I'll be gifting her that this evening, and I got to acquaint myself with that friend of yours, Yogi," he said with an animated expression, bright eyes and all smiles. "They're quite interesting."

"I see you have their clothes, too," Piye said, their eyes falling to the folded cloth in Ahkmen's hands. "What the hell did you two do last night?"

"Oh. Oh, no, I – they slipped in the mud and they don't really have access to good cleaning materials, and since it was technically my fault, I offered to have them cleaned," he explained.

"Awful nice of you."

"It's only right."

With help from his friend, Ahkmen made it over the boxes marking the entrance to your home without dirtying your clothes. Piye followed soon after, and the both of them entered your little tent, searching for a hard surface to knock on.

"Yogasundari?" Ahkmen called, feeling his face flush as he prayed he pronounced it right. "I've got your clothes."

"You have my cloths??" You said from behind one of the walls that Ahkmen remembered seeing you through.

"Right here," he said, reaching through the curtain to hand you the stack.

Weight was lifted off his hand and he withdrew, waiting a moment as you eagerly dressed yourself.

"Thank you many times!" You said, appearing with a wide smile that crinkled the flushed skin of your cheeks.

"Of course. We have to go now. I'll stop by soon!" He said as he turned to leave.

"Thank you," you said with a bow.

This time, he and Piye entered the temple through the correct door, walking through the long courtyard and observing the workers. They had been working on the garden for a while now, planting rows of seeds every day that would be fertilized with water, the Nile's silt, and of course, feces at times. At least the flowers everywhere blocked out the scent.

In the trees that towered above even the temple, birds cawed and sung at one another, pecking at the dates that fell on unfortunate people's heads. Piye managed to miss most of them, but Ahkmen was assaulted by one landing on his shoulder.

"Come now, can't be late two days in a row," Piye said, rushing Ahkmen along as the bell began to toll.

"And in the beginning of the year," Ahkmen added shakily as he began to run, coerced by Piye's long strides.

The two burst through the vacant doorframe before the eighth note, rushing to sit on the floor with the other two students. The priest entered moments later, eyeing both of them suspiciously, but remaining silent on the subject. Ahkmen let out a breath he didn't know he was hiding, reaching for the limestone tablets the class would be practicing on today.

Several minutes in he was already staring out the open door, watching the birds that pecked on the dried fruits littering the garden, fallen from the tops of trees and the undergrowth of bushes. However, it wasn't until several hours in that he caught sight of something that actually earned his attention.

You were near unrecognizable without your striking clothes, without the dim lighting he had already gotten so used to seeing you in. Reds, golds, and purples were replaced with the common warm white of servant skirts, allowing him to see the whole of your stomach and chest, as well as your legs that no longer hid within pants. Ahkmen hardly understood your insistence on wearing such warm clothes in Egyptian weather, and his ideas on the matter were only enforced when he felt blood rushing to his cheeks in a fiery blush.

For a long while you didn't notice him, and since consequences weren't part of the equation, Ahkmen stared free of guilt. You were positioned on your knees, rags and sponges in hand as you scrubbed the perfect marble floor of the outer temple halls. His jaw began to fall open, his eyes enraptured in the sunlight that shone off your dark skin, and was only dragged away by Piye manually shutting his mouth.

"Stop drooling. They won't come over just to clean your spit off the floor," Piye whispered in his ear as the priest's backs were turned.

"What?" Ahk whispered back, but went silent as his teachers turned back to the class.

"Now, what are the ways our Pharaoh's names written and how does the type of name change with the way it's written?"

"The Horus name is written in the box with the falcon on the edge?" One of the younger boys asked, his hand raised hesitantly in the air.

"No," said the priest with a tut.

An hour or so later he and his classmates were released for the midday break, rushing out of the enclosed classroom and into the long, stretching gardens of the temple's courtyard. Though the days were growing steadily cooler, flowers still bloomed with abandon in their ponds and bushes.

Piye began to part from Ahk as they approached the kitchens, causing Ahkmen to halt and grab their arm.

"Where are you going?"

"My father wants me to study runes in bones and teeth, so... I won't be back for the rest of the day. Tonight, though, I might have something planned for us," they said, shaking off his grip with a teasing wink.

Ahkmen watched as they jogged out of the temple, disappearing down the more common streets of Memphis. He frowned. Most of the other students his age were either too scared of him or didn't like him based purely off his status and his father's rule. It was things like that that had Ahk swearing up and down he would not be like his father––he would not be the reason his children couldn't make friends.

After gathering more food than he actually needed, he snuck out of the kitchens, speed-walking around as his eyes searched for the familiar stature of his new 'friend,' if he could call you that. How perfect it was that you worked here as well, and that he discovered that fact on a day of Piye's absence.

He searched the entirety of the temple's courtyard, classrooms, and worker rooms and couldn't find you. There was much of the temple left––about half unexplored––but those areas were blocked off. It was then he recalled you weren't from Memphis, and you might not understand the rules of priest-ly areas and citizen areas. He paused mid step, dread dropping his heart into his feet. Priests and oracles were not kind to those who disobeyed their direct rules of the holy.

Even with his royal status, he had to adhere to the same rules when it came to Gods. Sometimes even the Pharaoh was given such commands. But respect had never looked his way, and his desire to see you overcame his reluctance, stewing ideas in his head.

For a good few minutes he waited outside the entrance to the God's gardens, watching to see if anyone would try to stop him. In that time he pretended to eat, and after earning no strange looks, he ducked into the long hallway that would soon lead to the home of Osiris. Today, the massive oak doors were shut tight.

On either side of the hallway were gardens––to his left, a water garden, rife with lotus and reeds. To his right, a garden of date trees, lentils, lettuce, grapes, and pomegranates. The tall arches allowed him to easily see in, and the absence of a roof had sunlight raining down on the golden and green plants. What little light made it through the arches fell on his tanned skin, warming up the cool temple air, that had in times left him shivering.

Unfortunately, you weren't in either garden. He checked for a while, too, worried that he might've overlooked you behind tall plants or thick brush, but to no avail. All that remained was Osiris' home––the inner temple.

He had been in there before––rather recently, as well––but that did not mean he didn't fear it. He was quite clearly not where he was supposed to be, and his break wouldn't last much longer, as he'd spent much of the time making sure he wouldn't be caught. However, if he didn't find you, then it would be for nothing, and with that thought he continued forward.

To his surprise, when he just barely cracked open the doors, no one was inside. Not even the High Priest. The towering statue of Osiris stared blankly forward, the softest of smiles pulling at his perfect lips. Entirely still and cold.

He shut the doors slowly as he left, returning down the thin hallway with a furrowed brow. Perhaps you had left?

As he made to reenter the hall of gardens, a quiet hum reached his ears. He perked up almost immediately, eyes widening as he turned, staring at the temple's door as though it had spoke. He didn't dare move, but the song continued.

With steps of the utmost carefulness, he returned down the hall to the door. Pressing his ear against the wood, he heard nothing, and stood with yet another frown.

The voice had to be coming from somewhere. Further towards the courtyard it grew quieter, so it originated from within the holy ground, but where?

Ahkmen closed his eyes, breathing deeply as he listened attentively to the hum. Centering in on it, he began to follow, paying close attention to the volume. He reached with his hands as he walked blind, and came to a doorway he had never seen before when he opened his eyes. It was barely more than a crack in the meticulously painted wall, but large enough for a person to walk through. How he'd never noticed it before escaped him.

Echoes filled the massive room, entirely unlit with a stone roof above it. Ahkmen had to take a moment to let his eyes adjust, but when they did, he jumped back.

The room had to be larger than the whole of the courtyard, with walls that stretched too far to see the end of them. Pillars of a massive size filled the room, positioned with a graphed precision revered by other nations, each one too large for even Piye to wrap their arms around. And without fail, every single one of them was painted in hieroglyphs small as his fingernails paired to scenes of gory victory.

Music reverberated in his bones, painting the empty air that now thrummed with a thousand voices singing one after the other, yet still faint enough for Ahkmen to be unable to make out the words.

Without being able to track the volume of the humming, finding you would be much harder. This was, undoubtedly, you––your voice, speaking in words you knew well instead of the jargon of Egyptian. He tried his best, and in the end he found you scrubbing the floor mindlessly, staring up at the paintings above you as you murmured songs to yourself.

Hunger of cannibals...

those black-eyed pigs.

"Yogasundari?" Ahkmen said quietly from behind, hoping he wouldn't startle you.

You did jump a little, but you turned around with expectant, not fearful, eyes. Upon recognizing him, you smiled.

"Aganu!"

He thought to correct you, but realized it meant little considering it wasn't his real name anyway.

"Good to see you, as well," he chuckled. "What are you doing in here?"

"They ask me to clean, I clean, and it is quiet, this room. I like it here," you said, leaning back on your haunches as you returned to staring at the high pillar in front of you.

"They let you in here?"

"It is not hard to get in. You got in."

"No, I mean –" he took a moment to think of his words, "– they usually have one of the priests clean the holy places. They let a citizen clean in here?"

You paused, glancing away. "I did not ask," you admitted.

Ahkmen's eyes widened, reaching for you and pulling you to your feet.

"Then we need to get out of here before they punish both of us," he said, not pausing to let you gather your cleaning things before pulling you along.

"My cleans!"

He didn't stop running till he found the crack of an entrance, sneaking himself and you through to the slightly-less-illegal area of the holy gardens. Bright sunlight blinded him, and he squinted his eyes, shying away from the sudden stimulation. He kept the both of you moving though, till you reached the entrance of the hallway to the courtyard.

"You cannot go in such places," he said once he felt as though he had the peace of mind to address your stupidity. "I don't know what you've been taught, but when a priest tells you to do something, you do it. No questions asked."

"That is not a good thing," you said, frowning.

"It doesn't matter if it's good or bad. That's just how it is, and you and I are powerless to stop that. It's easiest to just listen," he said, growing softer as he noted your confusion.

"I..." you trailed off without ever having started.

"I'm sorry. I wish it could be different," he murmured, tucking stray hairs behind your ear.

"Why make all that beautiful if no one can see it?"

"It's for the Gods."

"I saw no Gods in that."

Ahkmen sighed.

"Just – do you understand me?" He asked, resting his hands on your shoulders to force you to look him in the eye.

"I think so," you said quietly.

"Thank you," he said in a rush of relief. "What were you singing in there?"

"A song," you said with a shrug, eyes falling to the ground. "My mother had sing to me. And.. one I heard, in the market."

"You have a very nice voice," he said, carefully watching for your reaction.

"Yes, she was nice," you nodded.

"That's not... never-mind. Here, I brought some food for you," he said as he handed you one of the sweetbreads.

Instantly your face lit up, a toothy grin matching your bright eyes.

"Thank you!" You said, taking and eagerly biting into it. "You are very good."

He chuckled, mumbling a thank-you through his own small smile.

"You know, you didn't tell me you work here. I go to school here," he said, pointing behind his shoulder to the classroom he would soon be returning to.

"That is funny," you said through a mouthful of food.

Your hunger reminded him of his own, and he returned to his own loaf.

"I'm glad you're here. Usually I only talk to Piye, and they can get rather busy sometimes. Do you come every day?"

"Most days. There are days they tell me not to work, no one is here but priests. But I am told to leave at a 'midday'. So I will leave soon, I think," you said, already finishing up your bread. "I go to my house and do my work."

"Your beers and such?"

"Yes!" You said. "My brews, they give me food like the priest. But from market adults."

"Do you –"

Ahkmen had begun to say something, but was interrupted by the tolling of a bell that called him back to class. He sighed, his shoulders falling as responsibility once more came to the forefront of his mind.

"I must go. Can I come visit later today?" He asked, already beginning to walk away.

"Of course! Come buy lots of beer!" You called with a singing laugh.

By eveningtime, Ahkmen's fantasies of you had reached an all-time high, daydreaming about how you would react if he had no qualms of anxiety holding him back. What you would do if he had the courage to pull you into him and kiss you, dipping you as your songs echoed in the silent, might halls of pillars reaching for the clouds.

Nothing the priests said was retained by his fog-heavy mind. The bell rang, startling the Prince, making him move for the first time in hours. He shoved his materials away haphazardly, leaving before any of his classmates and heading straight for your alley.

The sun was at its' low height above the western mountains, casting the shadows of tall graves past the river and onto the shore of the living. Red and gold bathed the land, painted his skin into a bronze, which deepened with a blush as he scaled the wooden crates. Already your hidden home had turned to a sort of oasis, entirely separate from his city.

Myrrh, which was the priest's incense of choice during the midday ceremonies, once again met his senses, swirling round his head as he entered the tent.

"Yogasundari?"

"Wait a bit, I am there in a bit of time," you said from behind one of the walls.

Clattering followed by two voices then came, but Ahkmen recalled that this was your business, and left you to it for the time being.

A few minutes later, you called him into the backroom without coming to see him.

"... are you sure?" He asked. To his knowledge, your customers hadn't left.

"Yes, it is good," you said, failing to elaborate further.

Ahk bit the inside of his cheek, reaching forward to pull away the cloth walls. Warm light came from a wall further on down, and when he pulled it away, the yellow light of fire burst in the tent, safe in an entirely-stone enclosing. A clearly handmade mechanism allowed you to hang four pots over the fire, two of which you tended to at the current moment.

Beside you, two familiar faces stood against one of the walls, quietly discussing with one another. His stare caught Unas' attention, who motioned to Panya that Ahkmen was behind her. She turned, scowling when she saw him.

"Why are you here?" She asked with crossed arms.

"I could ask you the same thing," he said, his mood suddenly soured.

"We're here for expertise on an ore I found in the junkyard," Unas explained with a small smile.

He and Unas weren't exactly friends, but they'd always held respect for each other. Ahkmen admired his ingenuity. Junkyards, however, were not the Prince's scene.

"Fun. I'm just here to get drunk," Ahk chuckled, sitting down on the dirt floor with his back pressed against the stone wall.

The number of colorful fabrics in this room were contained to only the entrance, and from the voices surrounding him, he correctly assumed that the 'walls' that made up this room were simply the closely-built walls of many homes all facing away from the one center point. A makeshift wooden roof had been placed above him, mostly blocking out the dying sun's light.

"I work with many rocks," you murmured, concentrated entirely on the stone in your hand, "but this is not rock. It is too pure. You found this in a.. a... what did you name it?"

"Junkyard?"

"Yes, that," you said, snapping your fingers. "This is very different. Others can come looking for it."

"So it's worth something?"

"I do not know. It is just pure, and that is not normal," you said as you handed it back to them. "I can try hard to name it, but it could be long of time."

"Hmm," Unas said, looking to Panya to communicate with her silently.

"Keep it," Panya said. "If we need it, we'll come back for it, but just concentrate on figuring out what it is."

"I will find it," you assured them with a small bow.

Panya and Unas left a few minutes later after having been served an older batch of beer that had sat to ferment. The boiling pots of beer hung over the fire were not yet ready, even if they smelled good, so Ahkmen settled on one of your specialties; a more alcoholic, sweeter beer.

Most of the beer Ahkmen had in his lifetime was for simple nutrition, thick and quite clearly tasting of sweetbread. At rare times, the Pharaoh would bring in more alcoholic beer, an event saved mainly for festivals where beer was cheaper than distributing wine.

Your brew, though––the sweet flavor of wine, an alcoholic content higher than both, for the price of a regular mug of beer. Ahkmen returned to one of the carpeted rooms, finding himself more comfortable surrounded by your purple silks, pillows and blankets cast beneath his feet. There he sat at your table, content to sip at his drink.

A moment or two later you returned to him, straightening out your long clothes before taking a seat across from him. You folded your hands neatly on the table.

"How long have you been working at Osiris' temple?" Ahkmen asked, setting his cup down on the table.

"I found it not long ago. My work is not much known, so I get little money, little food. So more work lets me eat, keep safe in the city," you explained, eyes cast to the side as you thought through your translations.

"Do you like working there?"

"I do not like the clothes they give me," you said, lips twisting into a pout. "They are not enough."

Ahkmen chuckled, though he hadn't meant to, and sighed to calm the delight in his chest.

"As long as you listen to the priests, you'll be alright," he said as he took another swallow from his cup.

"Have you something eaten today?" You asked, moving to stand.

"Yes. Haven't had dinner, if that's relevant," he said.

"I have slow night this night. Come and make food with me," you said as you offered your hand.

He glanced to his cup, and then to your outstretched hand. There was no option.

Ahkmen found himself in your kitchen, where he had been several minutes earlier, except now the brews of the day had been set to cool in their jars, leaving the fire open for other uses. Your choice ingredients weren't unfamiliar to him, but your method of cooking them was.

In most kitchens Ahkmen visited, pans of vegetables were fried over smaller flames, different oils and spices flavoring them. Slabs or slices of meat were cooked in a similar fashion. Your style consisted mainly of throwing every ingredient into your largest pot and letting it cook in its' own stew. You poured a sort of gravy over it, mixing the vegetables, meats, and other such things.

"You like bread in soup?" You asked, pulling a large knife out of its' storage on your counter.

"Sounds good," he said with a shrug. He'd never tried, but it couldn't be that different from beer.

You took a loaf out from underneath a white square of cloth, setting it on a board as you began to cut into it.

"May I help?" He asked upon realizing this was a task he actually could complete.

"Uh," you looked to him, then back to the bread and knife, "okay. Make in small, good?"

"Of course," he said, taking the knife and positioning it.

He did his very best, concentrating far more than was actually necessary, which you giggled from. You tried to hide it, and though he did spot it he appreciated the effort.

You went to chopping more vegetables, cutting lettuce in long slices that acted like noodles as you poured them in from your cutting board. When Ahk's board got overcrowded with cubes of bread, he set the loaf to the side, sliding the pieces in. He looked to you, stared at you as you worked diligently. The slip-up nearly cost his left middle finger.

His hands shook when he realized his mistake, but he couldn't stop smiling. Not till the both of you finished, and you returned to your spot in front of the fire, slowly mixing the concoction.

"You must do this a lot," Ahkmen said as he sat down on the cold floor.

"What do you say?"

"You do this a lot. Mixing pots over fire."

"Oh. Yes, I... I do. My potions, my beer, and my food can all be in this pot," you said, clanking the edge of it with your spoon. "I think... it is good. I like this moving. I can get tired, but it is one thing I know. We eat now."

It took a moment for his brain to process what you'd said, but he soon jumped to his feet, bringing down two bowls from a higher shelf. You thanked him quietly, asking him to hold them as you filled them up. The warm steam of stew drifted up towards his face, causing his mouth to water before he could even eat.

The two of you returned to the carpeted rooms, seating yourselves on the floor near to one another.

"Have you given mother your necklace?" You asked as you waited for the soup to cool to a bearable temperature.

"Not yet. I said I'd do it this evening, so I'll do it once I leave," he said, attempting to sip at his bowl, only to be burned.

"You eat fast then! You were very drunk for her," you laughed, rocking backwards in your seat.

"You say that like it's a bad thing," Ahk said, grinning pleased when you giggle in response.

"I see you that night, Aganu. You were sick drunk."

"If I acted strangely it was only because you're incredibly pretty," he said, blowing on the bowl of stew before sipping it this time. It helped, however minute.

"I get you drunk again, put you out on streets to walk alone," you threatened with a raised brow. "You still be strangely."

"Don't forget stupid."

"Haha," you leaned forward, pinching his cheek, "funny Egyptian man."

The sun disappeared earlier than usual, as was customary for the cooler months, and the darkness that followed left Ahkmen enraptured in your games. Thought of his mother, of Piye, and of his father faded into you, paying close attention as you described the rules of your drinking games, with which you had unwittingly kept Ahkmen in your home.

His vision had already started to go hazy, blurred by what beer he had drank for fun hours ago. Through that fuzz he saw two large cups and two smaller ones, the smaller filled with beer, and the larger empty. Two thin sticks were balanced in a row on each large cup.

"Now – now put cup on – on cup," you said, your hands swaying as you went to grab the smaller glass. "Veerryyyyy... kavanyamehka."

Ahkmen did his best to copy, and with great concentration, succeeded.

"We do this talk," you said as you curled your fingers into fists, setting them on the edge of the table. "Do this bang-bang. And.. then, it falls, in big cup. We do again and again an' again and... again. Good?"

"Okay," said Ahkmen, who had a very weak grasp on what you just explained.

He copied your fists, and when you spoke, he followed in loud mumbles, caught in the adrenaline you'd suddenly built. In time with your garbled speech, you banged your fists against the table, and the cups began to tremble on the two twigs.

"Enka kapo ai'il kuttika ventu nam, muta'lilvila matten'atai, en tontaiyl uravem en tanllyial entovuetem, nan 'rrakemen viri naiuta ventaum!"

The louder you got, the more incomprehensible you grew, till Ahkmen was assured you weren't even speaking coherently in your home language. Ever dutiful, he matched your energy till his heart pounded and his cup fell into the larger cup. You then let out a shout, throwing your hands into the air.

"You fail!" You laughed. "Funny man."

"We," he reached into his cup and pulled the smaller cup out, "are doing – going again. I actually understand it this time! So you are finished."

You went a second time, speaking in tongues and yelling raucously when you lost, your own laugh fading into the background as Ahkmen spoke.

"I told you!" He snorted, falling back in his cushioned seat.

Three more rounds, in which there were varied successes and losses, and you paused for the best part––drinking the strange mix of different types of beers and alcohols made from the fallen cups. You linked arms, shooting back your drinks as quick as you could.

The flavors you created for your beers mixed wonderfully together, but Ahkmen was too far gone to notice any of his senses except the ones that related to you. His sight, never leaving you, the sound of your voice, the sensation of your uncommon touch. His heart pounded furiously even without him shouting.

There were few people he could legitimately claim he enjoyed getting drunk with, which made his fondness for you all the more special. Already he knew you would be a fantastic drinking buddy.

Hours that felt like minutes passed, and with both of you hidden away from the sky, you had no way of knowing it was far past midnight by the time exhaustion trickled into your body. Before you knew it, you were lying down on your back next to Ahkmen, staring silently at the detailed ceiling, your hands folded neatly on your stomach.

"I think I have not made me better because I am scared I will become a person who is not the person that my parents knew," you said in a voice that croaked.

"There will always be a part of you that is that person who knew your parents," Ahkmen said softly, turning to face you as you stared up. "And you'll always have them with you in your memories."

"But I change, and if my parents are in me, they change too? Then, they are not my parents. They are changed to someone else. I changed them."

"Everything changes. If they were alive, they would have changed over the years eventually. That's one of life's simple natures," he said.

You fell silent.

"I miss them."

Your cat meowed softly as it jumped up to your seats, walking up over your chest to face you directly. You raised a tired hand, petting the hairless skin, still staring at the ceiling.

"How long have they been gone?"

"Years," you said as you raised up your fingers to indicate 'two'. "I do not know they are dead... but I see no words from them."

This time Ahkmen went quiet.

"Do you like learning about things?" He asked when an idea popped into his head.

"Why have you ask this?"

"I like learning about things. It's a distraction, of sorts," he said, fidgeting with his fingers.

"... alright. Better than sitting," you said, grunting as you attempted to rise to your feet.

Ahkmen stood before you did, chuckling as he noted you quietly trying to convince your cat to get off you.

"You do not sleeping forever," you cooed, bopping her nose gently with your fingertip. "I will come back."

Eventually, the warm lights of your home made way for the evening chill, bathing you in darkness halted only by the presence of a half-full moon. This late into the night––or early in the morning––near no one was awake, and if they were, they were contained mainly to their bedrooms within the walls of their homes. It left the streets and walkways vacant as you wandered aimlessly at Ahkmen's side.

Though most everywhere was quiet and unoccupied, there were houses in which lights had been lit, visible through windows that allowed it to pour out onto the ground outside. Those little spots of light illuminated your path, allowing you to skip over rocks that you would've otherwise tripped over.

"Are you religious, Yogasundari?" Ahkmen asked, his hands folded behind his back as he strolled with you.

"A what?"

"Do you believe in Gods, in a life after death," he clarified.

"My family is," you said, kicking a pebble. "They talk to this god, Shiva Pashupati. I am – my name, it is from the Bandha, which – it is to sit in a way as He makes."

"Shiva..."

"Pashupati."

"Right. What do you ask of him? If you do ask anything," he said, glancing between you and the path ahead.

"Food, no danger, you know," you said with a shrug. "I do not know a lot. My parents did not speak about my home a lot. I know... there is more Gods, but I know no names."

"We have many Gods as well. They lead us into a happy afterlife. Has anyone ever told you about who we worship?"

"No, but I want to know."

"For starters, that temple you work at––it's the home of Osiris, who is the ruler of the underworld, where we go when we die. He is a God of power, righteousness, and death. People here are allowed to choose which Gods they want to worship at any given time, but many choose favorites. For example, I am a devotee of Khonsu and Ptah."

The river before you grew nearer till you stood at the bank's edge, the edge of your toes just barely touching the water. You hardly noticed where the both of you were walking, but you recognized this spot, and identified it as the place Ahkmen had washed up the other day.

"Khonsu... and Ptah," you said in deep concentration as Ahkmen pulled you up onto the wooden docks. "What do they do?"

"Khonsu is a God of the moon, of time, and can extend or shorten the lifespans of anyone he meets. Ptah is a creator-god, so he creates many things, like you do," he said, his hand falling from yours as he stopped at the edge of the dock. "He is a blacksmith of sorts."

Ahkmen bent down, kneeling with one knee on the wood and the other raised to his chest. From there he pulled at the rope keeping a canoe in place, reaching forward to steady the boat when it came loose, now slave to the soft currents of the river.

No words were exchanged as he once more took your hand, helping you into the canoe. You grabbed the oars so as to balance yourself, even though it didn't help in the slightest, and took your seat on the bow of the small boat. Ahkmen soon followed, sitting down across from you. He took the oars and began to row slowly away from the shore.

"The Nile is a beautiful thing that brings to us life through the power of the God Hapi, who controls the floods that entail both death and revitalization. But, if you sail straight across, we find our earthly version of the underworld," he said, and the few words you could understand seemed to only confuse you.

"I am not sure I –"

"The Eastern bank is for the living," he said, gesturing to the city behind him. "The Western is where the dead lie forever. It is where the sun casts its' final rays before dying."

"Ohhh," you said with a wide jaw, looking out over his shoulder to the banks ahead of you.

You had, for a time, wondered why the other shore seemed deserted while the one you occupied was so lively. You had also wondered why there were massive pyramids shining a stark white against the warm sand and blossoming trees, their heights a monument of human achievement, jutting out of the desert to remind all who watched that there was greater power than they will ever behold.

"The pyramids out there," Ahk paused to look behind him before returning to you and rowing, "they're tombs. Resting places of great Pharaohs who came before us."

"Those are for one person?!" You asked with wide, shocked eyes.

"Each one is built for one person, yes," he chuckled. "Generally we're not allowed to go here unless it is for prayer, but I don't think anyone will ask questions this late at night."

Crickets and frogs croaked from the safety of bog-like swarms of lilypads, welcoming you loudly to the land of the dead within the land of the living. Ahkmen jumped out of the boat, sullying his sandals and skirt in muddy water as he traipsed through the undergrowth, bringing the stern of the ship to rest fully on the unmoving shore.

Once he finished that, he took your hand, helping you out of the canoe and onto dry land. You thanked him quietly, and in turn led him out of the water.

The distant pyramids had been a wonder to you, but you never gave them much thought. You didn't know what they were used for, if anything, and you had no idea why, or even how, they were built. Now the alabaster pikes remained shadows against a star-lit sky, a painting of a million stars illuminating nothing more than a silhouette of the once glittering pyramids. Your breath caught in your throat as you stared up. They were much taller than you'd originally thought.

"A good long while ago, there was a Pharaoh by the name of Djoser, and he was the first to build any sort of pyramid. Before him, the graves of Pharaohs remained simple mastabas. I look up to Djoser quite a lot... him and his vizier, of course. Imhotep. He was the one who did the most work," Ahkmen rambled as the two of you continued forward, nearing the monuments.

"... how did you.. make these?" You asked in an awestruck voice, murmuring in the presence of great beasts.

"Many years," he said, continuing on. "And much devotion."

Ahkmen went on to explain in great detail what the pyramids contained––their history, their wealth in both understanding the ancestors, as well as the wealth of treasure hidden beneath what seemed like miles of stone. He told you of the different rooms within, where offerings were still placed to this day.

Given the overwhelming size of the pyramids, it took longer than you imagined to get to the end of the long line, where the step pyramid sat. Ahkmen began to approach the tomb, but halted when he noticed you weren't at his side. Turning round, he found you stuck in place, your hands raised anxiously to your chest as you stared at the pyramid.

"Yogi?"

Nothing.

"Yogasundari, are you alright?" He tried, this time returning to you and gently pulling your hands apart, hoping to stop your straining fidgets.

"This is... a King," you said in a quiet voice, the glaze in your eyes slowly disappearing as you came to focus on him.

"Well, yes," he said with a frown. "We do have those, you know."

"Sorry, I... sorry," you murmured, and as Ahk's grip on you fell, you walked on past him towards the tomb.

"Wait," he reached for your wrist, turning you around, "are you alright?"

He had not asked you to apologize for any behavior––he had asked you if you felt okay, and that was the answer he sought.

"I am good," you assured him with a chuckle. "I am thinking on Kings and my family. I do not want to... make dirty of your Kings, but it is hard to think of Kings and to not think of family."

"Oh, don't worry about that," he said, taking your hands once more. "We're actually going to be desecrating holy ground so it's alright to say fuck you to some Kings."

Out of the two options he gave you, you decided to enter the tomb, opposed to scaling the sheen surface of polished limestone. Moonlight from a half-moon reflected off that clear stone, a light that faded away as Ahkmen led you into the earth.

Staircases upon hallways upon staircases led deep into the ground, lined with stray dust and paintings of stories Ahkmen hardly understood, let alone you. The darkness soon came to a high, leaving you in a pitch-black darkness too thick to even see each other. You stumbled forward, bumping your head on Ahk's shoulder, and letting out a small cry.

"You alright?" He said, offering his hand before remembering you would not be able to see.

"I am okay," you said, dirt and sand shuffling as you made your way back to your feet. "We need light."

"We'll find a torch soon, we can take that," Ahkmen said.

As predicted, a few steps forward with his hand running along the wall, and he found the end of a burnt out torch. At the next crossroads there would be a vat of oil, with which he could relight it.

"When the Pharaoh, Djoser, built this place," Ahkmen said as he lit the torch, holding it up to see the hieroglyphs above your heads, "he built it with temples outside, courtyards... gardens and houses. It was a city all for his death. And none of it was used until he died. All his life he built this pyramid, and never reaped the benefits."

"Why?" You asked, looking up from Djoser to him.

"It's a purpose in life. At least, that's how I see it," he said, his voice growing quieter. "I think that it is our purpose to leave this world better than when we came into it. This was simply his way of doing it."

"How will you doing it?"

"... I don't know," he murmured after a moment of silence.

His eyes fell to you, meeting your gaze as you simultaneously looked up with a special sort of adoration in the reflection of your eyes. Time paused; his heartbeat, his breath, the flame in his hand. You still waited expectantly.

"I will find my purpose someday," he said. "I'm still young."

"You will say that to the day you die."

The long hallways were much more entertaining with your sight returning, allowing you to scan and absorb the art painted on every surface. It was hard to tell who was who, but those in power were always clearly marked, and those below them would always tremble by their might. You bit the inside of your cheek, tearing your eyes away from the gory scene and following Ahkmen onwards.

"Here we reach the blue chambers," Ahkmen said, his echoing voice calling your attention away from the dark hallway walls.

You looked ahead to him, past him, to the blue strokes of paint shrouding the ceiling in midnight and stars. Your mouth fell open as you looked straight up.

A woman's body was stretched across the center plane of the room, her toes at the door and hands at the opposite end. Her skin was a deep blue, peppered with yellow, five-pointed stars. Massive jars and pots neatly filled the corners of the room, half-buried in dust, the paint still remaining on the surface. Besides that, the room remained empty, cobwebs filling the space, and dissipating wherever Ahkmen held his torch.

From here, there were two directions to choose from; left and right. Painted reeds lined the entrances, captioned by the hieroglyphs far above your head.

"Down that way is the burial vault," Ahkmen said, pointing down to the left, "and down that way is the King's apartment."

"Why would you need a apartment in a death home?"

Ahk snorted, "a tomb, you mean. It's to be used in death. Everything you are buried with comes with you in the afterlife, so those with great riches build homes they want, treasures they want to carry forever. It's a portable home."

"Hmm," you said in a detached tone, wide eyes turning back to the painted walls. "There is so much turns. I do not know how we get out."

"Ah, the layout of the pyramids remains a mystery to all but me," he said with a wide, cocky grin, throwing his arm over your shoulders. "I will lead us safely onwards."

You giggled, covering your mouth as you did. It disappointed him slightly not to see your smile, but he kept to his word, and led you down to the Pharaoh's 'apartments'. He rehearsed the correct path to the living areas, and by the time he came to the split path he recalled which turn to take.

He moved to continue quickly on, but you paused, his arm falling from your shoulders as you stood in place. That quickly caught his attention, and he returned to you.

You were staring at the wall with a furrowed brow, eyes searching the large blue tiles.

"Faience," he told you, sneaking up from behind. You jumped slightly, relaxing when you realized it was him.

"It is beautiful."

"It's meant to look like the palace," he said, easily recalling much of his studies on Imhotep's pyramid. "Mimicks the reed mats and such."

Several passageways and long, detailed hallways later, the two of you arrived in a room stacked with dark, elegant cabinets filled with everything from clothes to chairs. Red and reed carpets covered the floor, broken after their long-lived lives. As with many of the rooms and halls you'd already seen, the room was filled with vases and jars of all sizes, containing everything from honey to bits of unprocessed stone.

Being a home of sorts for the royal family from years ago, it contained a number of comfortable chairs, as well as detailed carpets both hung and set on the ground. Spiderwebs had grown over the edges, crowding the corners of the room with dusty string.

"As long as you know the paths of the pyramids, they can be a good place to find solitude. Sometimes I enjoy studying here," he said, craning his neck to look at the hieroglyphs carved onto the ceiling.

"You do work a lot, I think," you said, your shuffling feet slowly moving to the end of the room.

"Perhaps so. But you cannot claim that without acknowledging you work quite a lot, as well," he said with a smile. His amusement grew when you just nodded, pretending to understand what he had just said.

For the remainder of the evening, Ahkmen set to what he had been planning all along––distracting you from your dissipating drunken haze, as well as from the thought of your parents. Studying and researching had always done well to keep his own mind off things, so he offered the same opportunity for you.

A chart of the night sky hung above the frame of a bed, numerous blankets and pillows cast haphazardly aside upon it. You were reluctant to put any more weight on it, but Ahkmen assured you it would be fine, and pushed you to lie down, staring up at the ceiling.

"Do you see the brightest star?" He asked, climbing over you to sit on your hips, his hands on your waist.

"To that way?" You asked in return, gesturing to the right with your chin.

"Mhm. Her name is Sopdet. When she rises in the night sky in the summer, she brings with her the floods of the Nile," he said softly, creeping closer still, "and the fertility of the land. She is married to Sah, who holds yet another place in the sky. When Pharaohs die... that is where they go."

"What does Sah do?"

"He is one of the largest constellations," he said, a grin forming across his face. Ahkmen began to creep up your body, using his fingers like claws as he gripped you. "He is eaten in the morning and spit out at night––and he rises into the sky to protect his wife."

You giggled, blushing from the intense overacting of the man pinning you to the old bed.

"He is a God who sails the skies. He navigates the stars in a papyrus skiff, and the old Pharaoh's souls go with him. It is a death I yearn for," Ahkmen said, his energy suddenly cooling, his hands less grasping you and more holding you.

"I like to see the stars now. You show where they are, yes?" You asked, searching his eyes as you looked up.

Behind the faint halo of his face, the soft skin reflecting the dying light of the torch, stars painted in gold on a midnight canvas surrounded him. It was him, the life in his eyes against the eternity of the sky––distant, and far enough to only be found in the heart.

"Of course," he said with a smile, crinkling and blushing around his grey eyes.

#ahkmenrah x reader #Ahkmenrah #Night at the Museum #rami malek #rami malek character #ahkmenrah x male reader #ahkmenrah x female reader

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kimnjss · 4 years

Text

best friend | loy!smau

⤑ series: less of you

⤑ pairing: fratboy!jimin + dancer!reader

⤑ genre: angst!!

⤑ rating: PG13.

⤑ word count: 3.9K

⤑ warnings: kinda sad idk.

⤑ chapter song: the knowing // the weeknd

⤑ A/N: another written chapter because this just would not!! work as a text part. read it and let me know what you think bc all im gonna say is... yall.....

DECEMBER 23RD, 2019 | 17:34

[17:34] she's my girlfriend: just to push it a few hours... or maybe rain check for tomorrow? promise to make it up to you.

“'We'll go to the place you like this time, hm?'” Jimin reads the thread of messages flooding his phone sent from you out loud. Back slouched against the couch, mind working a mile a minute to figure out what kind of emergency could Miju be having right now. And why were you always so willing to drop everything to be there for her.

Being bitter was the last thing that he wanted. Rocky roads with your best friend are something that takes a long while to sort out for girls, he could see that. Just hoped that you'd soon realize that something's gotta give. That he wouldn't always be so keen on letting Miju shift the plans that he made for the two of you.

All of this could definitely be fueled by the fact he's now pushing telling you what he should have a long while ago until the next time you were both free to spend time together. It won't be that bad, right?

[17:36] to – she's my girlfriend: yeah, baby. it's fine. if things clear up before late, let me know nd ill come pick you up.

The best he could do at this point, he'd just wait for you to have a free moment. He was done pushing this off, knew that speaking to you should've been at the top of his list since he found out about it. Would've been able to do it today if it wasn't for Miju. Would there ever be a time where he wasn't falling second to her?

“What's with the scowl on you face?” Yoongi's voice is breaking through Jimin's thoughts as he crosses the living room, entering the kitchen. He rummages through the cabinets before pulling down a box of cereal, head cocked to be able to see Jimin who's shifting his position on the couch.

“Yn canceled on me.” Saying it out loud made him feel shittier than he had been originally. What kind of boyfriend couldn't buck up when their girl had important matters to tend to? Got sulky because she needed to handle an emergency. At least she had the decency to text him about it, right?

You could've just stood him up.

Yoongi doesn't stop the snorted laughter that falls from his lips, shaking a large amount of cereal into an even larger bowl. He moves toward the fridge to fish out the half-finished carton of milk he hid behind Joonie's growing vegetable collection.

“What she finally get tired of you?” A lighthearted joke directed to his best friend that has Jimin's eyes rolling instantly. He rises to enter the kitchen where his friend had just sat at the island.

See? Why couldn't girls make up like this? Had, had his own dispute with Yoongi weeks ago and they were back on speaking terms – the normal way. No need for some serious sit down that wasted both of their time. Just the understanding of who was in the wrong and the changes that needed to be made to fix it.

Girls were too emotional, always wanted to talk and talk about everything when really?? telling someone when they're being an asshole is the most effective form of friendship counseling in Jimin's opinion.

“Yeah, right. She's crazy about me.” Jimin gloats, reaching for the cereal box Yoongi had left out and pulling a handful out. “That girl had some type of emergency so she wanted to reschedule... help her sort it out,” He shrugs his shoulders, opening his palm to pick out the marshmallow pieces instead.

“Her friend? You mean Miju?” Nodding, Jimin drops the cardboard tasting pieces back into the box, dusting his hands off in front of him. “Wait. Miju told Yn that she had an emergency which made Yn cancel on you?”

With a short laugh and a roll of his eyes, Jimin is nodding again. “Yes, that's what I just said. You feeling alright, buddy?” He teases, not noticing the perplexed look on his best friend's face.

It takes a few short seconds for Yoongi to put the pieces together, eyes widening at his realization. There's no way she'd do anything like that, right? He had been talking to her for weeks and it seemed like she had given up on her whole 'catch them in the act' plan. But this wasn't catching them in the act, this was just... wrong?

And there was Jimin, no the wiser, picking marshmallow pieces out of the cereal box without a care in the world. He had to tell him. That's what any self-respecting best friend would do. Especially with the growing regret in the pit of his belly, the knowledge of the mistake he made with letting the information slip.

The last thing he thought Miju would do was try and ruin this for Yn. Had it set in his mind that if she was able to get through this maturely with his help then she'd start looking at him the way that he had hoped she would. Maybe he was wrong.

That was a conversation for later, though. Right now, he had to prepare Jimin for the shit storm that was coming. The shit storm that he had unintentionally caused when he refused to mind his business.

“I don't think Miju actually has an emergency...”

DECEMBER 23RD, 2019 | 17:49

With a quick tap to your thumb over the blue button, your promise to try and make it tonight was being sent to your boyfriend. Ooh, your boyfriend. Just thinking sent a flutter through your chest.

Your boyfriend. Jimin. Park Jimin was your boyfriend. Yours. And you were his. And finally, you were starting to feel comfortable with him. Despite everything. It was like nothing could put a damper on the shine in your heart.

Not even the walk up to Miju's front door, knowing the conversation you were about to have. The conversation that you were going to have to force onto her no matter how much she tried to fight it. You were done feeling guilty, you were done lying to her. Finally ready to just be at peace with Jimin and if she wanted to support you great, but if not?? too bad.

Definitely, Jeongguk speaking, but you were sticking to it. If she didn't want to support you, then too bad!

The front door is swinging open before you even have the chance to knock. Miju stands opposite of you, wearing a pair of frilly shorts and a tank top despite the chilly weather outside. She greets you with a large smile, waving you into her warm home while stepping out of the way for you to enter.

DECEMBER 23RD, 2019 | 17:47

“You told her!?” Words can't describe how angry... how betrayed Jimin feels right now. Out of all the low things he could imagine someone he had referred to as a close friend doing to him? This had to be the lowest.

It wasn't a secret that he wasn't a huge fan of Miju, so why did Yoongi think that it would be a good idea to share his business with her? All because of his stupid crush? A crush that was pretty much one-sided at this point. The boy needed to open his eyes and realize that she was using him. For this exact purpose.

“Listen, I didn't think-” Yoongi starts, but Jimin is cutting his words. “Didn't think what? That she'd do something irrational with the information you've given her? Use what she knows as a way to hurt Yn, you didn't think she'd do that? And for what reason?”

Jimin was the most laid back in the house, what pissed him off pissed him off but he was never one to raise his voice. Always one to keep a level head in an argument, careful not to let words slip that might ruin things in the long run.

But right now and lately? It's like Yoongi has been testing his patience almost on purpose. For what? He had no clue, but he was starting to get tired of it. And it was starting to show.

Yoongi could see it. That he had royally fucked up. That Miju wasn't the person that he thought she was and it would take a lot more than just a few late night conversations to get her to see the error in her ways.

Her only focus was getting back at Yn for humiliating her and sleeping with Jimin. Nothing else mattered. No one else mattered. He was starting to see that now.

“I've been talking to her and she seemed-” Yoongi stops himself this time, the fact that he's been keeping quiet contact sort of a secret up until this point. Knew that it wouldn't sit well with his friends if they knew he was getting close to them who they all perceived to be the bad guy.

She never seemed all that bad to him, though.

“Jimin, be honest. Do you think she'd really go ahead and tell Yn? I mean, you guys were pretty fucked up for going behind her back – but do you really think she'd stoop that low?” Yoongi's words have Jimin's eyebrows lifting, hiding underneath his bangs.

What type of seed did that girl plant in his best friends head that had his mind all screwed up? Could he not see the blaring signs right in front of him? Was he just that against lying or was he really this pussy whipped?

Level headed, level headed. “Are you really trying to blame me right now?” He tries not to hiss his words but can't help the way they slip through his teeth. “Yes, Yn was wrong for lying about our relationship and I guess I was wrong for going along with it. But-,”

Hit with a sudden headache, Jimin is stopping his words. Hands washing over his face as he paces around the kitchen. A sigh leaves Yoongi's lips, his butt sliding off of his seat to make his way over to his friend.

“Look, Jimin. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything,” It really had been an accident. He didn't agree with how Jimin was going about things, but he would never sell him out like that. They were best friends, it just came out. And he's telling him all of that, Jimin only half-listening past his racing thoughts.

Desperately trying to figure out how he was going to fix the mess that was being made right now as they stood here talking. “I need to call her,” Rushing to find his phone, Jimin is quick to scroll through his messages to find your contact.

DECEMBER 23RD, 2019 | 17:52

“You came fast,” Miju notes with a smile, watching as you loosen the belt of your light coat, pulling it from your shoulders. It falls heavy on the couch with the added weight from your phone in the pocket. “Yeah, you said it was an emergency.” You nod, taking a moment to peak around for any 'emergency signs'.

The air is tense, tight. Suffocating in a way. There's this awkward silence looming over the two of you as she stands there staring with those big accusing eyes of hers. Clearing your throat, you reach your hand up to push your hair back.

“What's the emergency?” You wonder, generally curious what had her texting you 911 when everything seemed fine?

The usual pout that she wears settles on her lips, eyebrows furrowing slightly to add to the whole look. “It's in the kitchen.” She turns without another word, leading you out of the living room and into the kitchen.

And you follow behind her, eyes landing on the mess littering the kitchen counter. “I have nobody to make everything but the kitchen sink cookies with me.” Her arms spread out at all the different ingredients she has laid out, peaking over her shoulder to shoot a large smile in your direction.

“We use to make these all the time when we were younger, remember? And this morning I woke up craving them, which is so weird because I never crave sweets.” She's moved to the other side of the counter, picking up the half beaten bowl of batter she left out. “And who better to share these treats with than my best friend, right?” She smiles, but there's something else written in it.

You don't have a second to analyze it because she's waving you over with a wooden spoon, handing you the utensil once you're close enough.

“Was this really it? I had plans tonight...” Despite the disappointment in your tone, you're still taking the spoon from her hand, reaching for the bowl that she had kindly set out for you.

Miju's ears perk at the mention of your plans, wondering if you'd actually let it slip what you had intended to be doing tonight. “Plans? Who with?” She asked, feigning curiosity, although she knew all the answers to her questions.

“Just plans. And when you said emergency, I didn't imagine you meant baking cookies?” Not paying much attention to your words, Miju busies herself with reaching for the sugar, measuring some out into her bowl.

“It's not about the cookies, it's about our friendship, Yn.” Her attention quickly shifts to you, pinning you with that 'duh' expression that she likes to pull when it seemed like people just weren't getting it.

Your friendship. Right. So right now is as good as time as any. If she had been thinking about your friendship recently, then she'd maybe take the news well, right? Not blow it out of proportion once you're able to give her all the details, remind her how much you thought about your friendship the entire time. How hard it made things for you. Jimin. And that you were done lying and sneaking around, that you were ready to come clean to her. For the sake of your friendship.

“Actually, it's funny you say that, because-”

Her words overlap yours in panicked haste, bowl clambering onto the counter, the large spoon falling suit. “And I've been really sad, lately!” As expected, she's hitting you with a large pair of sad eyes, paired with a pouted lip. She doesn't wait for you to ask what's wrong, she doesn't need to. Know that you'd listen despite the fact you were literally in the middle of a sentence.

“I know we haven't really been talking to each other, about boys and stuff... but I found out earlier that.” She pauses, reaches to push the loose strands out of her face. “Jimin is moving... to New York! And things have been so weird?? with him lately. I'm just- I can't believe he's leaving.” There's a whine in her voice, paired with a stomped foot.

But your mind is so far from whatever fit she's throwing. Eyes blinking slowly as you try to register the words that had just come out of her mouth. Jimin was leaving? Like moving, leaving? Packing up and going to New York... and he didn't tell you?

No way he wouldn't tell you something huge like this. No way he'd leave you clueless for God knows how long until you're finding out in your best friend's messy kitchen in the midst of making cookies. No way he'd do that.

“Jimin's leaving? How do you know that?” She must've got the wrong information, overheard it wrong. Jimin wasn't leaving. He wouldn't just leave and not say a word to you about it.

She's raising her shoulder in a slight shrug, eyes focused on the thickening cookie batter. “Yoongi told me.” Yoongi? As in Jimin's best friend? So if he was saying it then it had to be true, right?

“Yoongi told you? Or you just heard it?”

Miju's sucking her teeth at your pestering, facing you to get a good look at your face. Taking in the distraught crinkle of your brow, the frown on your lips, the widening of your eyes. “He told me. Jimin is moving to New York. Next semester.” She repeats, slowly just in case you couldn't hear.

Her brow furrows in mock confusion, head tilting to the side slightly. “Why do you look like that? Does Jimin moving mean anything to you?” She lets out a laugh to add to her facade. “I should be the one frowning. I mean, it's my crush moving six thousand eight hundred and sixty-three miles away. I looked it up.”

Miju doesn't take her eyes away from your face, lifting her hand to suck the batter from her thumb. You can only imagine how you look right now, could literally feel your heart shattering in your chest at the thought of Jimin being so far away.

Being so far away and not telling you about it. There was no telling the way it showed on your face right now. “You're getting really worked up over a guy that you're not even interested in, Yn.” She pushes, dropping her spoon again to set her hands on her hips, looking at you expectantly.

Jimin was leaving and he didn't tell you. He kept it from you. He lied to you. The two of you didn't lie to each other. Maybe to other people together, but never to each other. And here was Miju, staring at you – enjoying this all too much. She knew, didn't she?

That's why she had invited you over. That's why she made up this whole stupid cookie emergency. What? Did she want to rub it in your face? 'You may have stolen my crush but he's been lying to you this entire time'. Well, she won.

“Are you mad? That's so weird. You're mad?” She continues and you can feel your blood boiling just from the sound of her voice.

Droning on in your ear as if she had no end. Asking if you were mad, wondering why you would be mad about someone that you had no involvement with whatsoever moving away. Why would you even have an opinion on the matter whatsoever? It's not like you're the one that's in the love with him – and that's where you snap.

“God quit it! Alright!? I'm with Jimin, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear? He's my boyfriend. Happy?” Voice much louder than you had intended it to be and you see her flinch from the way you're yelling at her.

Yet, you can't stop yourself. Can't find it in you to use your inside voice. “Is that why you called this whole fake emergency? Not two fucks given about 'saving our friendship', or whatever bullshit you made up. Just wanted a chance to get back at me?”

“You've been lying to me for weeks, yn! And you're supposed to be my best friend!? Best friends don't lie to each other.” You don't bother to mask the bitter laugh that falls from your lips.

Best friend. Best friend. The way she threw the word around as if it meant nothing. Treated it like it meant nothing. Just a label. Only close because you lived that way, but all the other best friend elements? Zero to none. The way she went out of your way to do all of this just proved it, more than anything.

“Are you supposed to be mine? Have you ever stopped to think why I felt like I had to hide this from you, huh? Or did you even think about how much it was killing me knowing how badly this would hurt you? Because that's the last thing that I wanted to do.” You're not yelling anymore, voice oddly level. And it's more off-putting than the sound of your shout.

“And I bet you thought I jumped at the chance to be with him, huh? Did you think for a second that I tried to fight my feelings for in, for your sake, and couldn't? Fuck all of that, right? Why would you have to worry about that, it's not like it matters, right? No, fuck the fact that I've actually fallen in love with the guy – which is much more serious than a stupid crush, might I add. Fuck all of that, because it makes you unhappy, right?”

There's more at the tip of your tongue, so much more than you've been holding back for the past seventeen years. Things that you didn't even think had bothered you before, but it's like the list keeps going on and on. You want to lay it all out, but your head is such a mess and it feels like everything is slipping all at once.

Tightness growing in your chest and spreading to your cheeks, eyes feeling heavy like they always do before you start crying. Sad about Jimin. This stupid friendship that you wanted so badly to save. Realizing that you had been the only one that cared that much.

“You don't love him. You were just trying to take him away from me like you always do...” Her words have your eyes bulging out of your head, jaw-dropping in disbelief. This girl really didn't quit, huh?

“What?” You try because maybe you didn't hear her right. Maybe she didn't disregard all of what you had managed to get out, focusing on the one bit that had absolutely nothing to do with her. “Name one thing that I've ever taken from you, Miju. Because how I remember it I've been bending over backward just to keep you from falling apart.”

She scoffs, rolls her big eyes before answering. “Yeah, exactly. You were always looking down on me. 'Ooh, poor little girl can't take care of herself, let me swoop in'. Always two steps behind me all the time, making sure nothing happens, protecting me when I never asked you to!”

“You're mad because I looked out for you?” Disbelief is evident in your tone. Slightly convinced that she might be joking, because if she was really mad about something like that then she should've learned to hold herself up a long time ago.

Not made it seem like she was so needy all the time, acting helpless until you were forced to swoop in and fix everything. Like you always did. Without a moment of hesitation, but not anymore. Way past over it. Over the worrying. Over this fight. Over this conversation. Over her.

“I can't do this,” You're deciding with a shake of your head, a defeated raise of your arms. “I can't even be around your right now.” You're turning to leave the kitchen, scooping up your jacket discarded earlier.

Miju is hot on your trail, flops hitting against the hardwood as she moves to catch up with you. “Wait. Where are you going?” You don't say anything as you pull your jacket back on, her being the least of your worries at this point.

There were more important things than this childish back and forth with her. You had tried to tell her, the right way – maturely. She didn't want that, and instead came up with this whole plan to do what exactly? Hurt you as you had done to her? Make you feel humiliated? Great, she did it.

Got her way like she always did, you just couldn't bring yourself to care like you always do. “I'm going to see my boyfriend.” Eyes piercing as you lift your gaze to her, tightening the bow on your coat before turning and exiting her house.

Letting the door slam behind you without bothering to look back.

PART TWO OUT TOMORROW!

– girl code rule #1: never, ever, under any circumstances fall for your best friend’s crush. but what happens when your best friend’s crush checks all the boxes of your ideal guy… and to make matters worse… he’s crazy about you too.

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A/N: timestamps make sense throughout the fic. to be added to the taglist, send me an ask !! feedback is highly !! appreciated, it’s the motivation i need to keep the fic going nd fun for you guys!!<33

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ijustwant2write · 4 years

Text

Not A Secret-Bonnie Gold x Shelby!Reader

(GIF credit to @paquim)

Tags: @jenepleurepasbaby @amirahiddleston @bloodorangemoonlight

Requested by anonymous: 'I literally check the bonnie gold tag everyday and was so HAPPYYYY when I saw your fic, I absolutely love the idea of finns twin sister being with bonnie or even just the youngest shelby sis being with him so wondering if I could get a fic with that premise please :)'

Summary: Although (Y/N) is terrified about what her brothers may do when they find out she is in a relationship, she doesn't want to be the dirty little secret Bonnie has to keep.

Characters: Bonnie Gold x Shelby!Reader, Finn Shelby x Shelby!Reader (siblings), Polly Gray x Shelby!Reader (family), Isaiah Jesus x Shelby!Reader (platonic), Tommy Shelby x Shelby!Reader (siblings)

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name

Warnings: Swearing, arguing, angst, slight violence, lotta fluff

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Who are you dressed up for?" Finn asked as I walked into the kitchen.

"Myself." I snapped.

"I'm not an idiot-"

"Says the one who didn't finish school."

He scoffed."Come up with a better insult if you're so clever."

I retaliated by grabbing a slice of toast off his plate.

"I'll tell Tommy."

"Tell him what?" I slumped into the chair opposite him."That I knicked your toast?"

"No! That you're sneaking around."

"Do you have any evidence?"

He hesitated."No."

"Exactly, because nothing is going on."

"We're twins, I can sense it."

"Oh, fuck off Finn."

"I'm gonna find out-"

"Why would it be so bad if I was seeing someone? What if we're just fucking?"

"That's even worse!" he raised his voice.

"You do it all the time!" I shouted back.

"What the fuck is all this racket?" Polly yelled over us both, hands on her hips as she stood in the doorway.

"Sorry Pol, someone's just being a complete arse hole." I sneered, brushing past her and grabbing my coat from the hallway.

"What is she on about?" I heard her say, but I escaped out the front door before I could be questioned further.

Finn was on the right track, and I was scared that I hadn't been careful enough. Finn and I used to tell each other everything, but like the rest of our family, we started keeping our own secrets; but Finn would rat me out almost every time just to get on Tommy's good side. It pissed me off to no end.

The truth was, I was seeing someone. He had just become a Blinder himself, it must have been around two months, which was how long I had known him for. Bonnie Gold, the boy with a dream for boxing, had boldly asked me out, and I confidently accepted. He was handsome and charming, it had nothing to do with pissing off my brothers (which is what they would say if they knew about us). Of course I didn't want to tell everyone about us straight away, we had to see if it worked. But when I realised how much I would think about this man day in and day out, it became all too real, and I knew my feelings were strong.

However, because I was a fucking Shelby, that meant everything had to be a secret. And I hated it! It felt wrong, like I was in trouble with something. It was as if I was doing a job for my brothers, something illegal and dangerous. But it wasn't. It was the exact opposite. It was care free, loving and I felt immensely happy. However, Bonnie didn't think the same as I, believing that we should remain hidden until my brothers were in a good place, wait for a time where they weren't being threatened by anyone or had trouble within the business...like that was ever going to happen.

I waited beside the country road we always met on. Hardly anyone drove down here because they were scared of the gypsies that lived nearby, including my gypsy boy. Perching on a fallen tree, I sighed, fiddling with the skirt of my dress, thinking of all the ways this conversation could go wrong. Should I even bring it up? Should I even state my feelings about all of this? What if he didn't agree and we fell out? Or worse...

I was startled when I felt a pair of lips kiss my cheek, and I jumped away, only to have Bonnie grab me.

"For fucks sake Bonnie," I laughed as he kept kissing me all over my face,"you can't sneak up on me like that."

"You just looked so pretty sitting there." he grinned, helping me to my feet.

Our hands were intertwined as we gazed into each others eyes. Fuck, this was going to be hard.

"So, what brings you all the way down here?" he asked, guiding me towards the forest.

"Well, besides wanting to see you, I need to talk to you about something."

His smiled faltered."That doesn't sound good."

"It's about us being a secret-"

"We've gone over this (Y/N)."

"Yes, I know. But I hate it Bonnie! It's like you're ashamed to tell anyone about us-"

"I'm not ashamed." he stopped walking, turning me to face him."Im worried what your brothers will do."

"I won't let them hurt you."

He scoffed."They could beat me till I was black and blue and I wouldn't care. But they're powerful enough to keep you away from me. And if I retaliated, they could keep us apart for...well forever."

"Then I'll stay with you. We can leave a letter behind, a note to say that we're in love and we've run away and-"

"You'll really leave your family?"

"I..." I sighed, looking down at my feet."No, not like that. But Finn is becoming suspicious, and I know that if he finds out he'll tell Tommy. I'd rather it be us."

“(Y/N), I don’t want to sneak around either, but I’m only just making a name for myself in boxing. And your brother has helped me with that.”

I rolled my eyes, snatching my hands away as I crossed them over my chest.“I know boxing is your dream, but you’ve also said that I was part of those dreams.”

“You are! But if I don’t make enough money for us, how are we supposed to buy a house together? How are we supposed to get married?”

“How are we supposed to do any of those things if we don’t tell my family?”

His fists were clenching, but I knew this was his way of controlling his anger so he wouldn’t shout at me.

“I’m sorry that I even bothered to bring this up. Let’s just forget about it.”

“No, you’re right.”

“Are you sure?”

“It’s just that...what if they don’t accept it?”

“Obviously it matters what they think, I do love my family. But you’ve been there for me more than they have, you haven’t changed, even when you became a Blinder. Even Finn changed, he’s horrible now, I don’t feel like he’s my twin anymore.”

“I don’t want to split up your family.”

“Are we even that much of a family anymore? It's so difficult because I love them, and whenever we argue it feels horrible, but at the same time I can easily hate them. They've done bad things, they always say it's for the good of the family and the business in the end, but still, they go about it the wrong way."

Bonnie held my hands again, bringing one of them to his lips, gently kissing my knuckles."I don't want you to be torn from your family. It isn't fair."

"We can do this Bon," I squeezed his hands,"we'll tell them together. I know that if Finn opens his big mouth, he'll ruin everything."

"I've got a meeting tomorrow with them, about my next match. Come with me and we'll tell them then."

"We'll do it after you've fixed the match, I won't destroy your dream."

Although I left feeling more anxious than I ever felt, there was some feeling in me that was optimistic. Perhaps my brothers would see that Bonnie had a steady future. He was boxing and working for them, so he was under their control, and they knew all about his family; Bonnie was able to keep me safe, and the love between us was obvious.

Once back in town, I headed to aunt Pol's, but was stopped by Finn, with Isaiah stood behind him. He had that fucking cocky smirk of his, hands in pockets as he started speaking.

"Where have you been off to today then?" he asked.

"Hello Isaiah, it's been a while."

"You alright (Y/N)?" Isaiah smiled.

"You gonna answer my question?" Finn interrupted.

"I had to get out of the house and away from you. I've been wandering aimlessly seeing as I'm always being watched, apparently."

"What happened to you (Y/N)?"

"Oh, don't start." I moaned."Stop acting all high and minty just because your balls have finally dropped."

I started to walk away, but he harshly grabbed my arm, yanking me back to him."What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"Get off me you prick!"

"Guys," Isaiah ripped us apart,"not now not here."

As soon as I was free from his grip, I marched away, ducking my head to avoid the nosy stares from people in the street. As I got to Polly's house, I let out a small, frustrated scream, pulling off my shoes and throwing them on the floor.

"Oi! What have my floors ever done to you?" Polly tutted.

I didn't answer, storming upstairs to my room and slamming the door. Finn made me so angry, and what made me more upset was the fact that I no longer felt close to him. He was the stereotypical, protective older brother (by five minutes), teaching me how to defend myself and keeping me away from the family business. But as we grew older, becoming young adults, being more aware of the world around us, we changed. Finn changed completely, no longer the sweet, young boy I knew, but now a ruthless, slimy, conniving businessman.

"(Y/N) what's..." Polly's voice trailed off as the sound of the door opening again interrupted her."Finn, what's going on with your sister? What have you done?"

"She's hiding something Pol! I don't know what it is, but she's keeping a secret from us all, she's being cruel."

My eyes shot wide open at his words, and I almost sprinted back downstairs. Polly stood on the first step, holding me back as I ran down the stairs, ready to attack Finn.

"You're a fucking horrible brother, Finn!" I screamed with tears streaming down my face."Why can't you just leave me alone? Leave me out of the business!"

"Right!" Polly raised her voice over mine."Get in the kitchen, both of you. We're going to sit down, and talk about what's happening here."

Finn left first, Isaiah hesitantly following. Poly didn't let go of me until he was gone, slowly releasing me. I wanted to keep screaming, shout at the top of my lungs so much that it hurt. However, I silently made my way into the other room, feeling Polly's eyes on the back of my head. I sat opposite from Finn, just as we had that morning, keeping my eyes down as Polly and Isaiah adjudicated the match that was about to begin. Perhaps Bonnie should have shown me more boxing moves...

"So, Finn, what started all of this?" Polly asked.

"Why does he get to go first?" I scoffed, furiously wiping away my tears.

Polly just had to look at me to shut me up.

"All (Y/N) ever does is sneak off everyday and she never tells me where she's going. And whenever I ask her about it she snaps at me and gets all defensive. All I'm trying to do is help her."

"Help me?!"

"(Y/N) I suggest you calm down before you speak." Polly said.

I took a moment to breathe, but couldn't help blurt everything out."How on earth are you helping me? You pry into everything I do, wanting to find anything wrong with me just so you can report back to Tommy. And then whilst he's having a go at me, you're down at the Garrison, being praised like you've actually done something useful. But you haven't. You've never been able to do anything to live up to John, so you've gone against your sister just for a pat on the back."

Finn's nostrils were flaring, his breathing deep as I saw his anger building up. I didn't feel great about what I had said, but it also felt good to hurt him. He always spoke down to me, why couldn't I do it to him?

"I understand that you're trying to move up in the business, actually be taken serious by someone like Tommy. But how are they meant to treat you like an adult, when all you do is tell tales about your little sister as if we were five again?"

He shot up from this chair, and I quickly copied, watching as he rounded the table to stand in front of me; we would have been nose to nose if not for the height difference. Polly and Isaiah almost jumped to separate us, but I held out my hand. This had been a long time coming.

"You don't understand what I'm doing for you." Finn said through gritted teeth.

"No, I don't. So enlighten me, explain yourself."

"You're going to end up hurt if you keep going off with that gypsy boy."

"Gyspy boy?" Polly gasped."What fucking gypsy boy?"

"He's lying Polly."

"I'm not though, am I (Y/N)? You say I'm the one who can't do anything right in this family, but let me ask you this-what have you ever done? You don't get the respect you crave from anyone else, so you start seeing someone beneath you in order to feel something."

"He is not lower than anyone, how dare you!"

"Who isn't? (Y/N) have you been gallivanting off with some gypsy boy behind our backs?" Polly said, but I didn't break eye contact.

"Come on (Y/N), just admit it. Let then all know about your little secret."

He was smirking. The damn bastard was smirking, he was enjoying every second of this. Yelling out, I lunged at him, slapping him across the face before shoving him away from me, repeatedly hitting his chest over and over. Isaiah rushed over, pulling me away from him, but kicked him in the shin, going for Finn again when Polly stood between us, slapping me across the face. I stumbled back in shock, clutching onto my cheek.

"I have never seen you two argue like this, and it is useless! But more importantly, what do you think you're doing young lady?" Polly snapped.

"It's always my fault, just because I'm the youngest-"

"Just tell me who it is!"

"It's Bonnie!"

It was finally silent in the room. Everyone was taking in what had been said. I took in a shaky breath before speaking again.

"I promise, I was going to tell you all tomorrow, after Bonnie's meeting with Tommy. I was the one who wanted to stop keeping it a secret."

"So how come he doesn't want to say anything?" Finn said.

"He was hesitant because of his boxing. You all know it's his dream. Which is why I wanted it to be in a calm environment, tell you all one at a time. Please, none of you can say anything, not until tomorrow."

"How long has this been going on for?" Polly asked, not looking so angry.

"Two months, maybe three."

"And you're serious?"

"Yes! Look, we're not rushing into marriage or anything. I mean, we've talked about it, but he's focusing on his career first. I told him to do that."

"Pol, come on, it's Bonnie we're talking about." Finn groaned.

"What's your point?" she argued back."Finn, I know you want to look out for your sister, but she's not stupid. She wouldn't put herself in a relationship of the boy was going to fuck her over."

"It could be worse Finn." Isaiah piped up."At least we know the guy, Bonnie is a good lad."

"Finn," I grabbed his attention back,"you have to promise me you won't tell Tommy. I have to do this myself."

Finn nodded, then huffed, looking at us all before leaving. Isaiah was quick to follow, throwing a small smile my way.

Polly placed her hands on my shoulder, guiding me into a chair."Right, sit down you. You're going to tell me everything, from the beginning."

It had been a huge relief to finally tell someone. And it wasn't as if I was being Punoshed and forced to tell the truth. I could gush about how amazing he was, the lovely things he said to me, the thought out dates he had taken me on when he didn't have the money, and what he would buy me after he saved up especially. Polly was smiling throughout, which gave me a sense that she was there for me. Now all I had to do was tell Tommy.

Finn kept his promise, or at least I thought he had because my door hadn't been kicked down with my older brother yelling at me. It had been a restless night, tossing and turning, wondering whether I should risk telling everyone else right now. Bonnie hadn't done that many matches, enough for people to recognise him though. What if Tommy ruined everything for him? What if they cut all ties with their family and their protection, making us more vulnerable? However, Polly, Finn and Isaiah already knew, and it would only be a matter of time before they told everyone else.

No one was in the house when I woke. The silence was annoying. Usually I longed for the peacefulness, but today I was alone with my annoyingly loud thoughts. I had checked my appearance multiple times before leaving, as if that would make any difference. Paranoia set in as I walked through the streets. Somehow I thought that they all knew my secret, and were all staring at me. What a drama queen.

As I got closer to Charlie's yard, I went over my rehearsed speech, ready to defend my love. Tommy was stood with Bonnie and his dad, Aberama, of course he was smoking as they discussed their business. I wasn't expecting Aberama, the embarrassment was already setting in. They all noticed me as I approached, falling silent as they watched me; Bonnie instinctively smiled.

"(Y/N)? What's wrong?" Tommy asked, slight concern in his voice.

"Nothing is wrong." I replied, standing beside him.

"Then why are you here? We're discussing business."

"Oh, I can wait till you're finished."

"No, no, say your peace now. We're basically finished."

"Right...um..." my words disappeared, the prepared speech suddenly gone.

"(Y/N) and I have secretly been seeing each other." Bonnie casually stated.

Aberama and Tommy glanced between us, watching as Bonnie boldly took my hand, tugging me towards him.

"You what?" Tommy stamped out his cigarette.

"It's true. It's been going on for two months." I mumbled.

Tommy pointed at Aberama."Did you know about this?"

Aberama was smirking."No, and I'm impressed that they hid it so well."

"He's fucking impressed."

"Tommy, we weren't doing this to aggravate anyone. We didn't mean to sneak around, but we wanted to make sure this relationship was working before we told you." I explained.

"(Y/N) was the one who told me we should tell you all. I'm sorry Mr Shelby, I didn't mean to go behind your back." Bonnie sincerely said.

"We were also hesitant because of his boxing. He is so loyal to you after all you've done. Please don't stop all of this because of me-"

Tommy held his hand up, shutting me up. Bonnie squeezed my hand for reassurance.

"Mr Shelby, may I butt in for a moment?" Aberama asked."You say this has been going on for two months?"

I nodded."Uh, yes, three months at the most."

"And in that time, Bonnie has attended all his matches, and followed your instructions, and has also completed all of his Blinder duties he was assigned. Not once has he faltered. And he did all of this whilst secretly meeting with your sister."

Aberama was on our side. Perhaps this would help ease Tommy into the idea.

"Fine, they are but a few good points." Tommy coughed."You two sure you're serious?"

We both nodded, cuddling closer together.

He let out a long sigh."If Bonnie can continue staying on track with boxing and business, then I'll allow it. But this can't effect any of our work."

"It won't Mr Shelby, I promise." Bonnie smiled.

"Thank you Tommy." I said, catching the second his eyes softened before he and Aberama turned to leave.

Aberama looked over his shoulder, winking at us before turning to speak with Tommy again. I faced Bonnie, squealing with delight before throwing my arms around him. He grabbed my cheeks, cheekily kissing me with his hands travelling down to my waist. He almost went lower until I stopped it, and I heard him whine as I pulled away.

"Bonnie, do you know what this means?" I breathed out.

"My place or yours?" he grinned.

"What? No! I'm not on about that." I laughed."We get to walk around holding hands, we get to kiss in public, we get to not so subtly sneak away from parties, and everyone knows we're having sex."

"(Y/N), I'm serious now, otherwise I might just have to take you here."

"I'd prefer if you didn't mate." Finn startled us appearing from seemingly nowhere.

Bonnie and I pulled apart, our hands still intertwined, our cheeks flushing red.

"Finn, I-"

"Don't worry Bonnie. I'll get used to it. I think."

"So you didn't end up telling him." I said.

"No. You were really upset the other day and I haven't seen you like that before, not that angry anyway. I'm actually here to apologise."

"Oh."

"I am truly sorry (Y/N). I've been a shit brother for the past year, and I was too proud to recognise that."

"I forgive you. I'm sorry for yesterday as well, you didn't deserve all of those horrible words or the slap."

"I did deserve it. But, how about a truce?" he held his hand out.

I smiled, grabbing it and pulling him towards me. We hugged each other tightly, and the memories came flooding back. This was my brother, such a familiar feeling, a loving feeling.

"Right, go on, fuck off with your boyfriend." he joked.

"I love you Finn. Don't worry, we'll see if Bonnie has any friends for you."

"Fuck off. But I love you too." he chuckled.

Bonnie wrapped his arm around my shoulders as we walked away. Neither of us could stop smiling. And now that Finn and I were building our relationship back to the way it was, everything felt like it was moving in the right direction.

"I repeat my question from earlier, mine or yours?" Bonnie needily said.

"Is that all you can think about right now?" I dramatically gasped."Yours, we haven't been there in ages."

"Well you better start walking faster, love."

"Come on, I'll race ya'."

"What's the prize?"

"Winner gets the other person to do whatever they want to them."

"I'll give you a head start. I'm going to win either way."

"Alright, but just know I have about ten things in my mind."

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vennilavee · 4 years

Text

to build a home - ch 1

beyond the drapes

attack on titan masterlist

ch 2 - a girl in a bar

Pairing: levi x reader (attack on titan)

Summary: a modern au where you and levi both work for the Survey Corps, a non-profit organization with a mission to help the youth of the Underground District.

Warnings: cursing, suggestive themes

Word Count: 3787

A/N: im so excited to explore levi’s character in this setting!! this story will be a series of moments in no sequential order. in this modern au, the walls still exist, as does the underground district. the only thing modern about it is the technology and culture lolol ENJOY

*** This day is bound to be a long one- it’s only 10 AM and you’ve already been in back to back meetings with several of donors for the foundation. You’ve been in meetings for the last three and a half hours, your toasted bagel now cold and your second cup of coffee now empty. You sigh and roll your shoulders back, pinching the bridge of your nose in annoyance.

These rich types would be the death of you. But Erwin had specifically asked you to handle the rich donors. As if Hange or Levi would be able to sit through even one of these ass-kissing phone calls. You can hear sugary sweetness dripping off of your tongue with practiced patience and you hardly recognize it. It’s an out of body experience. As words are rolling off your tongue, you wonder how Levi would fare with this responsibility.

He’d complain the whole time and then tell the person on the other end of the video call to fuck off and get their heads out of their asses. The thought makes you scoff and you clear your throat to cover the sound.

Erwin knew your strengths and weaknesses as individuals and a team, and you were grateful for such an insightful boss and friend.

Once you seal the third donation of the morning, you take your headset off and rub your temples. You’re glad you’re free until noon, giving you some time to catch up on emails and catch up with your colleagues and friends. The drapes in your office were drawn back, illuminating your office in a faint sunny glow. Today, the sun was hiding behind the clouds so it wasn’t terribly bright.

And yes, you had drapes in your office. They were a midnight blue with threads of gold embroidered throughout. Everyone else had normal blinds, but you had seen these drapes while window shopping years ago for this new office and you knew it belonged. Something about the blue and gold made you feel royal and regal. As if this was yours and yours only.

That didn’t mean that Levi didn’t tell you how stupid your drapes were and how stupid you were at least once daily- “You think this is a stupid castle or something? You hear yourself?”

To which you would prompt reply, “if this was a castle, you’d be the damn gargoyle in front. The one that scares everyone away.”

And then he’d just ‘tch’ at you and roll his eyes.

What an ass.

You’re growing restless, so you lock your computer and get up to stretch your muscles for a few minutes. Sitting for hours at a time does a number on you in ways that you’d never expect- your shoulders sometimes hurt, your lower back, even your ass.

Maybe you need a better seat and desk setup, you muse. Walking down the hallway with your cold bagel in your left hand, you rotate your right shoulder and wince. You pass several of the new hires, Eren and Jean who seem to be bickering amongst themselves but straighten up and say ‘good morning’ to you as you pass them. You give them a smile and a wave, continuing on your way.

You stop by Hange’s office, where her door is wide open and papers are strewn all over the place. She’s viciously typing on her computer as she pushes her glasses up the bridge of her nose in between each word. Her hair is in disarray and you sigh when you knock on her door.

“Hange,” You call, “Did you stay up all night again?”

“Huh? No way,” Hange gasps, looking at the time, “I just got caught up with things! You know- I’m this close to finishing this grant proposal! Look how much money we’re gonna get outta them! They won’t know what hit ‘em-”

“Hange,” You say firmly, “I’m calling you a cab to go home. Go to sleep. I don’t trust you to drive home, considering you’ve been up all night.”

“What?! I can drive-”

“Hange!” You interrupt her, “I’m serious! Come back tomorrow. Take it easy.”

She slumps in her chair in defeat and removes her glasses, rubbing her eyes in fatigue. “Oh alright. I guess I’m a little tired.”

“See you tomorrow, Hange,” You salute and point to your phone, “Cab’s on it’s way.”

With that, you make your way further down the hallway and come to a stop in front of Levi’s office. You knock and immediately open the door without allowing a moment of rest in between.

“What’s the point of knocking if you’re just going to barge in?” Levi asks, eyes still on his computer screen.

“It’s much more dramatic, and we both know you would’ve left me waiting. Because you’re an ass,” You reply good-naturedly, sliding into the seat in front of his desk and propping your legs up on his desk. Your shoes are in his face and he pinches the bridge of his nose in annoyance.

“To what do I owe this most shitty pleasure?” Levi says, eyes narrowed at your bagel, “You here to ruin my office? Last time you were here I had to spend an hour cleaning it-”

You bite your tongue at the response you want to provide to that.

“No reason. Just have been on calls all morning. Was bored,” You shrug and wince at the slight shoulder movement.

Levi quirks an eyebrow at you but says nothing. He continues typing away, seemingly ignoring you as you munch on your half of the bagel. Once you’re finished with it, he throws a banana at you wordlessly. You fail to hide your smile.

“You’ll get hungry in about an hour with that shitty bagel. And then I’ll have to hear about it,” Levi says tonelessly, eyes trained on you. You roll your eyes at him and peel your banana.

“So you gave me this banana to shut me up?”

“Yes, it’s in my own best interest.”

A comfortable silence falls between the both of you. You eye the snow globe that you had gotten him for Christmas and his birthday on his shelf. It looks as if you had purchased it for him yesterday, when in reality it was over five years old. His office is as clean as ever, just like him.

“That’s a nice shirt,” You murmur, eyes raking over him shamelessly, “Who’s the lucky person who bought it for you?”

And honestly, he wants to do something about the smug smirk on your face. But instead he just stares at you, face as impassive as ever. His hair falls into his eyes with a practiced poise. You see the corners of his lips turn up, nearly daring to give you something resembling a smile.

“What makes you think I didn’t buy it myself?”

“Come on, Levi. You and I both know your sense of style is… questionable most times.”

“My sense of style? You really want to talk about your shitty drapes?” Levi asks, but you sense no malice in his voice.

“My drapes? Wouldn’t you like to know if the curtains match the drapes-”

“I can’t think of anything worse to know.”

You gasp in indignation, hand to your heart. “Don’t be such an ass!”

“Then don’t be such a brat!”

“Ugh,” You groan, standing up from your seat and making sure there are no crumbs falling off of you, “I have actual work to do, Ackerman. Quit wasting my time.”

“Door’s right there, sweetheart,” Levi says nonchalantly, looking back down at his planner and not sparing you a second glance.

“See you soon, handsome,” You call, turning back to wave at him and he gifts you with an upturn of his lips.

***

The Survey Corps was a nonprofit organization run by Erwin Smith and the mission of the organization was to find and provide educational resources and mentoring to the youths in the city. Specifically, the mission was to show kids who grew up in the shadows that they could have a life outside of the shadows and in the light with the help of the Survey Corps.

That’s not to say that the Survey Corps had all of the answers and all of the funds to fix the poverty in the walls. But your team tried their hardest to help the kids. Because the kids were the future.

As an organization, you had done some pretty amazing things and had some pretty amazing connections. The Survey Corps had been successful in launching many partnerships and setting up afterschool programs for the kids to find their interests. It was the kind of work that made you feel fulfilled and driven.

Not to mention, that you worked with some of the best people. Despite everyone’s differences, everyone had a clear shared passion for helping the kids of the city.

You truly loved your job, and everyone around you did as well. Ever since Erwin had promoted you to Director of Impact all those years ago and had seen your capabilities, you had really been able to thrive.

Bringing those new kids on board was your idea for the most part- Levi had complained the whole time, asking why they needed a separate youth outreach group when Erwin’s original team wasn’t even that old.

You had kindly told him that you weren’t teenagers anymore and hadn’t been in two decades. He had glared at you but nodded in agreement.

The rest of your afternoon was relatively free, you were just finishing up a few project ideas for outreach and catching up with some of the new kids.

You should probably stop calling them kids, you think dryly. They’re all in their early twenties, fresh faced and eager. Besides Mikasa- she’s almost as neutral as Levi is, with similar eyes, and you can’t help but wonder if they’re distantly related.

You rotate your shoulder again and massage it lightly with a wince. Damn, your right shoulder has been aching over the last week. Maybe you needed a real massage. Or a new chair.

You send all of your emails out quickly with your shoulder beginning to throb in pain as minutes go by.

Death by the office.

You tell Jean and Connie to meet you in the break-out room for your quick catch-up, unable to take sitting at your desk for much longer. You bring a notebook and a pen with you to the break-out room and wait for them to arrive.

They sit across from you with their stainless steel water bottles in front of them. They’re chatting animatedly, telling you about their ideas and their plans of all the good they can bring to the kids within the walls. Their shared enthusiasm makes you smile.

You start taking notes on their ideas, already thinking of ways to bring them to life. You groan softly as your hand cramps up from the pain in your right shoulder and neck shooting down your arm.

Jean calls your name and you look up.

“Are you okay?” He asks, “You look like you’re in pain.”

“Obviously she’s in pain!” Connie exclaims indignantly, “Sorry about him. He likes to state the obvious.”

“I’ll be alright. My shoulder is just- acting up today…” You trail off and rotate it, “Anyway, I like your ideas. Keep it up, I love the enthusiasm. And don’t try to out maneuver each other either.”

You look pointedly at Jean who gives you a look of innocence.

“We’re a team,” You murmur.

“Captain still calls us interns,” Connie blurts out and you can’t help but let out a laugh. That they still call Levi their Captain, because he’s so rigid with them and that he still calls them interns.

“I’ll talk to Captain grump,” You reassure them, “He calls you interns out of affection.”

“Affection? From Captain Levi? Pff,” Jean scoffs, crossing his arms.

“You’d be surprised, Jean.”

***

Levi catches your soft whistle of pain as you slide the straps of your backpack over your shoulders. He wordlessly stands behind you and pushes the straps of your arm and carries your backpack for you instead. He gives you his phone and keys to hold on to and you give him a smile in return.

He walks you to the car in silence, opening the door for you and waiting for you to get in. Levi catches your grimace and soft exhale once more as you shift in the seat.

“You told Hange to go home?” Levi asks, breaking the silence.

“Yeah,” You nod, “She was here all night again. I don’t know how it gets past Erwin, but I told her to come back after she’s rested.”

Levi nods, eyes trained on the road in front of him. One hand on the steering wheel and one on his thigh. After a moment of staring off into the setting sun, you feel Levi’s hand slide into yours and his thumb rub against yours. His gaze hasn’t shifted, but you can see the light in the corner of his eyes.

He has let his hair and his scruff grow out a little longer than he usually likes- is he distracted? You can’t recall the last time his hair has been this long, but you like it. You make a mental note to ask him about it once you get home.

But as always, Levi can feel your eyes on him.

“Why are you staring?” He asks bluntly.

“Just lookin’ at your ugly mug,” You say nonchalantly, not missing the way his lips quirk up.

“You’ve been with this ugly mug for the last six years,” Levi says dryly, “And what does that say about you?”

“That I have good taste,” You beam at him and he rolls his eyes fondly.

“You’re a brat.”

“You’re an ass.”

You squeeze his hand and watch the planes of his face imperceptibly relax. He wonders how long your shoulder has been bothering you like this. You had mentioned a few times over the last week that it was an odd sort of ache, but today, it seemed like you were in a lot of pain. He’ll ask you about it when you get home.

Home. The space he’s shared with you for the last three and a half years. Levi thinks about that often. He thinks about being a rough, underground kid with nothing but dirt and danger to his name. He wonders if that kid would’ve ever dreamed of living a life like this. He often thinks about Erwin finding him so young and pledging to help him and help kids like him.

Levi often thinks about you. You, who had offered him nothing but laughs and coffee when he had nothing to give. You, who offered your shoulder when he didn’t have the strength to ask. You, who found a crack in his armor of steel and buried yourself next to him despite his roughness.

You.

Even now, he still wonders from time to time if you are aware of the extent of his adoration for you. But when you look at him in that soft way of yours, in that way that’s only reserved for him, he thinks you do.

***

Levi hears your pained gasp from the kitchen and then a call of his name. He sees you standing in your underwear, clutching your right shoulder with creased eyebrows.

“Levi,” You murmur, “Will you help me out of this shirt?”

Levi hums and brushes his knuckles over your neck gently.

“Lift your arms up for a second. This would be easier if this shirt was a button up rather than this shitty material,” He mutters, “This might hurt for a sec.”

He hears your sharp inhale and exhale as he pulls your top off. Levi pulls out one of his own shirts that has now become your sleep shirt and a pair of his shorts for you. He’s quick and precise in his movements, unclasping your bra easily and tugging his shirt over your head. He even helps you into his shorts and you press a kiss to his cheek in gratitude.

Levi rubs your shoulder gingerly, eyes cast over you in concern.

“Go sit on the couch,” Levi murmurs, “I think we still have some of that medicinal paste my mom gave us. The one that’s supposed to help with pains like this. Your shoulder is tight.”

“That’s not the only thing that’s tight,” You wink at him and he shakes his head, patting your hair.

You’re tempted to follow Levi to the kitchen but refrain when he shoots you a look. Instead, you settle on the couch, stretching your legs out.

“Took you long enough,” You grumble, scooting up on the couch for him to lay behind you.

“It took me two minutes. Did you lose your sense of time as well?” Levi murmurs, pulling you into his chest.

You hum, already feeling yourself relax and take his hand in yours. Levi pulls the right side of your shirt down a little to examine your shoulder. He presses a finger to your upper neck and you hiss once his fingers press a little lower. He continues his examination, trying to figure out exactly where you’re in pain.

“Gonna give you a massage,” Levi says, “Might hurt at first. It’ll feel nice after. You can hold my hand if it does.”

“Thanks for your permission, honey,” You roll your eyes but clasp his free hand in yours once more.

His fingers are steady, gentle but firm against your skin. Levi whispers words to you, words of his day, words of what he thinks of the new interns. You correct him for the millionth time, reminding him that they’re not interns anymore. They’re employees now, part of the team. He scoffs but it pulls a laugh from you.

And then you gasp sharply when Levi’s hand prods at a knot. You squeeze his hand reflexively but after a few soothing touches, the pain washes away and the knot dissolves. Levi continues to rub your muscles and you lean further into his chest, your eyes closed in bliss.

He maneuvers you so as to not disturb you too much and spreads the topical analgesic on your shoulder, leaving your skin exposed. So that the medicine doesn’t spread on your shirt.

“Good?” Levi asks, rubbing your other shoulder. You nod, peering up at him and pecking his lips in gratitude. You try to deepen the kiss, try to rake your fingers through his hair the way he likes, but he turns his cheek.

“You’re gonna waste the medicine. It’ll stick to your shirt rather than your shoulder.”

“Seriously?” You groan.

“Blame your shitty shoulder,” Levi says and you glare at him.

“Take my shirt off then.”

“It’ll stick to your shirt when I take it off. Don’t be stupid.”

“Wow, you really thought this through,” You grumble, settling back into his chest and hoping the medicine absorbs quickly. He gives you a rare smile and kisses your forehead, his hand snaking under your shirt to rub your belly, his fingertips at your ribcage. The way he knows you like.

It had taken a long time for Levi to touch you like this. But you didn’t mind though. You were patient, and he was worth it. He was an immensely private person and while he was never ashamed of you- the thought had never even struck his mind- he preferred to keep his business within the walls of your home. Even at work, Erwin often teased both of you that he could hardly tell that you were in a long term relationship with the way you two bickered with each other and the general lack of PDA. But Hange, bless her, would scold Erwin for being so dense-

How can you not tell? They argue like a married couple!

It had taken a long time for Levi to touch you like this. He can remember when the mere act of looking at you had proven to be too much sometimes. And somehow, you always knew when he needed space. When it got to be too much. It had even taken you a long time to touch him like this. He was unlike anyone you had ever met in every way. You’re certain from the way you fit within the spaces of his arms that this is where you were meant to be.

Something gentle settles in your cheeks, in the way you blink at him, in the way you’re stroking his undercut. He very nearly purrs at the touch but still-

“What are you thinking about?”

“You,” You reply, not missing his ‘tch’ in response, “Your hair’s getting long…”

You run your fingers through his dark, silky strands and leave a trail of burning embers in your wake. You cup his cheek and he leans into your touch, head tilting into your hand slightly. His grown out stubble prickles your hand and you push yourself closer to him.

“Something on your mind?” You murmur, “You never go this long without a haircut. Or a shave.”

“Testing something out,” Levi says vaguely and you hum.

“Whatever you say, honey,” You reply, pressing a kiss to his neck.

“Don’t worry about it. You’ll hurt yourself if you think too much.”

“Noted. Thanks for looking out for me, Levi,” You say dryly, poking his chest.

“Someone has to,” Levi mutters, “Think you need a new chair at work. You’ve always had a shitty chair. Or maybe you need a standing desk. I’ll build you one.”

You’re barely listening, eyes beginning to flutter closed and you hum in agreement. Levi is just so warm, it’s no surprise that you’re asleep in just a few minutes. Your breaths are steady against his arm as you shift a little to turn on your side. You must be tired. Levi grabs the book he’s currently reading from the coffee table, drapes a blanket over you and rubs your back as you fall into a deeper sleep.

As he reads, he can’t really focus on the words on the page. He’s busy thinking about you, and how easily you grew to trust him and to love him. Despite how long it took for him to even realize that what he felt towards you was trust and love. Levi thinks back to the kid from the Underground. That kid is still him, and he remembers the faint desire to have a semblance of this life. To feel the sun against his face, the wind in his hair. To be unabashedly himself.

And somehow, not even the freeing feeling of the sun on his face and the wind in his hair can compare to your velvet touch on his skin.

#levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi x you #levi ackerman #aot #attack on titan #snk #shingeki no kyojin #aot imagines #snk imagines

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