#and that's the reason why gin grew up too fast | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

noctumbra · 3 years

Text

𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦

summary ─ “it’ll be okay. i’m gonna make sure of it.” you sniffed as you buried your face into his tank top. his arms were an anchor around you, a cage that made you feel safe.

pairing ─ mickey henry x reader

warnings ─ exes to lovers, language, angst, fluff, kissing, no freaky things in this one, in the upcoming part however...... hmm

a/n ─ this is my first time writing a character other than bucky in this blog *sniffs* be easy on me? 👉🏻👈🏻🥺 hope you like it! please leave a comment if you do! thank youuu <333

𝙿𝙰𝚁𝚃 𝙸

You were at your friend’s wedding. A wedding that they decided to plan it like it was a regular beach party. It was crowded. You probably knew only two─ three people. Four. You knew four people here, and he was the least person you expected to see. Especially what happened between you two, but it somehow made sense for him to be here. He was a DJ at the end, and he was obviously hired for the party.

Mickey was standing by the DJ booth with his headphones hanging on his neck. He was solely focused on the board in front of him, sometimes turning his attention to the laptop on his left. He was bobbing his head to the song, frowning a little when he focused even more to the changing beat.

He looked good.

His skin was shining with gorgeous tan he got throughout the whole summer, it was a nice, warm golden color. His hair’s gotten longer since the last time you saw him. It looked fluffy and soft, and suddenly you were burning with the urge to run your fingers through it. He had a light scruff going on; some whites were shining through the dark ones. He looked really good. You wanted to cry.

All the emotions you have denied yourself to let out were there, wanting to get out, but you couldn’t. You couldn’t cry at the first time you saw him after years. It would be too… pathetic. You took deep breaths, desperately trying to calm down and to send the tears back. When you felt you weren’t going to cry, you made your way to the bar to get yourself a drink as a reward.

“Can I get a gin tonic? Thanks,” you said, smiling at the bartender. The guy nodded politely. His hands worked fast as he prepared your order. In under a minute, you were sipping your gin tonic.

You were sitting at the very end of the bar counter when he came, all smiling. “Hey man,” he greeted the bartender. “Vodka? You know what I like.” The guy nodded like he did to you, but he was all smiley this time. It was obvious that they knew each other; probably from other wedding or party gigs, you thought. You watched him as he waited for his order.

He kept looking at his phone like he was expecting a call or a text. His eyes were wandering around, too. You felt a pang in your chest when the possibility of him having a girlfriend came to mind. Not that he wasn’t allowed to move on, it just hurt to see him move on this quick and that he looked like it wasn’t affecting him. You sighed. Taking a sip, you continued to watch him.

He was still wearing the rings you bought to him as a birthday gift. You knew he loved rings, so you thought it could make a great birthday gift, you were right. Mickey loved them so much so that he only took them off when he was showering. You smiled at the memory. Your fingers were tracing the small tattoo on your wrist. A matching one was winking at you from Mickey’s own wrist.

“Are you gonna pine after him all night?” You shrieked when you heard your friend’s, Rose, voice right next to your ear, making a couple heads turn.

“Fuck’s sake, Rose!” You frowned. “You scared me!” She rolled her eyes.

“You can’t pine after him,” she said, ignoring the stinky eyes you were giving her. You shrugged and returned to your drink. “He has a girlfriend, Y/N. Tell me you’re not gonna do anything.” You felt another pang in your chest, stronger than before.

“Girlfriend?” You murmured and heard Rose’s approving hum. “I wasn’t going to do anything, but thanks for telling me anyway.” You swore you could hear Rose’s taunting ‘huh’ in your mind, but in reality, she stayed silent.

“Whatever,” she said, waving her hand. “I’m gonna go see if Lara needs help with anything.” You nodded absently and watched her disappear in the crowd.

Girlfriend. He did move on. You swallowed the bitter laughter crawling its way out of your throat with the last of your gin tonic.

Your break-up wasn’t exactly messy, but it was expected. You saw it coming and tried to save it many times, but the effort was one-sided so, it didn’t work. You tried damn hard to make it work, though. You wished he’d make some efforts, too, sometimes. It wasn’t a secret that you haven’t moved on from Mickey; a small part of you would always be in love with him in a way, you knew it. You were only thankful that he didn’t go and cheat on you or something while you were still together. You grew apart, that was what happened, and then you had to move away from Greece, and he didn’t stop you…

Sighing again, you signaled the bartender for another gin tonic. You weren’t going to drink your emotions away and get drunk, that’d be absolutely the worst thing you could ever do. This second glass was your last, and then you were going to make up an excuse and walk away.

You thanked the bartender when he brought you your drink. You started sipping it while you searched for Rose so that you could excuse yourself. The wedding part of this party had happened already, so there was no reason for you to stay. Quickly finishing your drink, you looked for Rose only to find her by the altar, talking to a guy you didn’t know.

“Hey, Rose,” you called out to her. “I’m leaving,” you said when she turned to you. A frown sat between her brows immediately. “Alone, fuck’s sake. I had two drinks and I wanna go home before it’s too late. Alright?” The frown didn’t disappear, but she nodded.

“Alright,” she said. “Let me know when you’re home, though,” she added.

“Sure,” you agreed. You could do that. “See ya later.”

─

You decided to walk home through the beach. The sound of the waves and the smell of the sea always calmed you down right away. Tonight wasn’t so different. You hugged yourself. It wasn’t cold although there was a breeze. You didn’t mind, though. It was a nice change after the burning heat of the day.

Walking slowly, you closed your eyes and breathed in deeply. It was peaceful. You forgot how nice this walking-on-the-beach-at-nights thing felt. A smile made your lips twitch. You exhaled slowly, shivering pleasantly when the breeze licked your skin. You were away from the party now, and with the music gone, it got quiet and, like it was possible, even more peaceful.

You smiled.

“Wait!” You froze. “Y/N!”

No, you thought. You didn’t want to deal with him. No, please. I’ll cry, no.

“Hey,” Mickey said when he caught you. “I, uh, didn’t know you were going to come to the party,” he added. His fingers were already playing the short hairs of his nape. You gave him a forced smile and nodded.

“Last minute decision,” you murmured, not bothering to go into detail. Mickey nodded, too. He looked like he wanted to say something but couldn’t, or didn’t know how to. You didn’t pressure him. You just wanted him to go because you didn’t want to cry when he was with you. He didn’t deserve to see you vulnerable anymore.

“Well,” he started. “I’m actually glad you came,” he said, chuckling lightly. You frowned. He’s glad? That’s new, you thought. Mickey hummed softly, seeing the slight frown appearing between your eyebrows. “I wanted to talk to for a while, but you changed your numbed and moved away, so I couldn’t,” he explained. You stopped in your tracks. Taking a deep breath, you tried to swallow your tears away.

“What do you possibly want to talk about, Mickey?” You asked. Your voice was angry and a little shaky. You could feel the lump in your throat. Mickey sighed.

“I wanted to apologize, Y/N,” he murmured. He played with his fingers, pulled on his bracelet and sniffed lightly. He was nervous. You clenched your jaw. “The way we ended was… bad. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it to end that way.” Then, he rolled his eyes. “I didn’t even want it to end, actually. It just happened.”

“What?” Your frowned deepened. “You didn’t want it to end? What the hell are you talking about, Mickey?”

“It was a misunderstanding!�� He exclaimed. “Look, we got distant, yes. It was…” He exhaled harshly. He suddenly looked tired, like he was about to cry. “I have a kid,” he murmured. “A son. He’s six, and I’ve been trying to get his mother to let him see me. There were some legal shit I had to do, and then I learned that he got sick. I didn’t mean to get distant, but I did, I know my mistake.” Mickey lifted his head; his baby blue eyes were teary, and they looked earnest, soft and sad. You bit your lip. “I’m sorry for not telling you that I have a kid. I’m sorry for closing in and for getting distant.” He took a deep breath and stepped into your personal space. His fingers brushed your knuckles. “I’m sorry for letting you go. I should have stopped you, should’ve been honest to you. I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

You looked down at your hand where he was still brushing your knuckles with his fingers softly. Your chin was trembling, and there was no stopping your tears: They were running down freely. “Why…” You started but had to cut yourself and clear your throat. “Why would I believe you?”

Mickey nodded slowly. “You have every right to not believe me,” he agreed. “I can show you his pictures. The paperwork? I’ll do anything to get you to believe me, Y/N. I’ve never wanted what we had to end like this.” You sniffed.

“Picture,” you whispered. Mickey immediately reached for his phone and opened the gallery. He scrolled down a little and clicked on a picture, and then turned the screen to you.

“His name is Hector,” he said. You grabbed the phone, eyes already taking in the details.

The little boy had his hair. It was chestnut brown, fluffy and slightly curly. He had brown eyes, a cute nose and a chin dimple like Mickey’s. He was smiling in the picture, and you could see the resemblance. You smiled when you saw him wearing a Scooby-Doo t-shirt.

“He’s cute,” you murmured, handing him the phone. You watched his lips stretch wide for a smile as he, too, looked at the picture briefly. The love and adoration were obvious on his face, and fatherhood would look great on him, you thought. “Looks like you.” His smile widened.

“Yeah, his mother isn’t happy about it,” he grumbled and then rolled his eyes. You hummed. Mickey locked his phone and stuffed it into his pocket. “I’m sorry for not telling you about Hector earlier.” You shrugged. It had been years, you didn’t have the right to get mad.

“It’s fine,” you whispered. Sniffing, you looked around. “Go back to the party,” you told him. “Your girlfriend might be looking for you.” You ignored the slight venom your voice was carrying.

“Girlfriend?” Mickey said, grimacing. “I’m single.” You looked at him.

“No need to lie, Mick,” you murmured. “It’s fine if you have one.”

“But I don’t?” Mickey muttered something to himself. “Who told you that? Was it Rose?” Your eyes snapped at his, giving him the answer he was looking for. He laughed bitterly. “Your friend is into me. So, she’s keeping everyone away from me.” He shook his head like he couldn’t believe this was happening. “I rejected her a couple months ago, and since then she’s been a bitch to me.” Then, he gave you a side eye. “Sorry.” Shrugging again, you continued to look at him.

“Rose?” You asked. He nodded. You frowned for a couple seconds, and then rolled your eyes. “Fuck’s sake.” Mickey gave you a questioning look. “She was way too happy when I told her that we broke up.” He snorted. When you started walking slowly again, Mickey was quick to adapt your pace.

You walked on the beach for a while like that: Mutual and peaceful silence, calmness on the air now that each other’s presences’ were soothing you both in a way. You took deep breaths. You didn’t know what you were supposed to do with this new information that was dumped on you. You didn’t care that he had a son although you would have appreciated if he were to tell you while you were dating, but it was okay. You sighed.

“I wanna try again properly,” Mickey said, abruptly. “If that’s what you want, too, of course.” He gave you a small smile when you turned your head to look at him, shock etched on your features. “I never wanted it to end, I told you. I’m willing to try again and willing to make up all the pain I’ve caused unknowingly.” You turned to him.

“I’m scared,” you said, and you were. You were scared that you’d get hurt. The first months after your break up were the worst, and you didn’t want to go through those times ever again. With shaky hands, you held his ring clad ones. “Mickey, I’m scared.” He cooed at you.

“Ssshh,” he whispered. His arms were wrapped around you in a blink. “It’ll be okay. I’m gonna make sure of it.” You sniffed as you buried your face into his tank top. His arms were an anchor around you, a cage that made you feel safe. You took a deep breath, filling your lungs with his faint cologne. “I’m gonna make everything right this time. I promise.”

After a short while of silence, you heard him taking a deep breath.

“While we’re at being honest thing,” he murmured softly and slowly, like he didn’t want to ruin this moment. You frowned lightly, pulling back to look at his eyes. “There is someone else that I think you should meet.”

──

#mickey henry x reader #mickey henry imagines #mickey henry smut #mickey henry x you #mickey monday #mickey henry fanfiction #mickey henry fluff #mickey henry angst #mickey henry drabbles #once in a lifetime

405 notes · View notes

hashtagartistlife · 3 years

Photo

IR hunger games AU

pt 4/???

pt 1 | pt 2 | pt 3 | pt 4

bonus comics under the cut + some more exposition

bonus cut 1:

bonus cut 2:

Recap of the story so far: yuzu gets picked as tribute for the hunger games. Ichigo manages to volunteer in her place. Rukia gets drawn to replace yuzu, and ichiruki end up being the tributes for district 12.

Ichiruki then meet urahara, their mentor, on the train to the capitol. On this train they may or may not have a conversation regarding the fact that Rukia saved Ichigo’s life as kids, and that they have consequently been dancing around each other for years now. I reserve the right to add more to this section later. Either way, they are awkward at best and frosty at worst as they enter the capitol.

At the capitol, they meet their stylists, uryuu and orihime. They are new stylists, who only graduated last year. This is their first official stylist job. This in itself is not that surprising, as district 12 was unpopular and often stuck with the inexperienced or not-quite-so-talented stylists. However, though uryuu and orihime are inexperienced, they are the furthest thing from untalented or unpopular - since they had been students, they have been somewhat of a rising star in the styling community. So, everyone is surprised when they both (separately) apply for the district 12 styling job, because they really could have had their pick.

Ishihime were both born and raised in the capitol, but their childhoods were far from the lavish, glamorous lifestyle commonly associated with capitol citizens. If the capitol had a caste system (which they do — it’s just unspoken, is all), they would be on the bottom rung — orihime grew up under her brother in as close to poverty as what you can get in the capitol, dreaming of the glitz and glamour of the upper crust life. Ryuuken, meanwhile, is very rich, but for whatever reasons uryuu ran away from home young and has been surviving on his own since. The fact that they both clawed their way up the ranks to become hunger game stylists out of pure talent and tenacity was a novelty for everyone, and contributed to their rising stardom.

Ishihime hadn’t met prior to their appointment as district 12 stylists, but they HAD heard of the other— it was a pleasant surprise to both of them that the other had also applied for the job. Though they only meet on the job, they click instantly and develop an easy working partnership to create a sensation with ichigo and rukia’s opening ceremony outfits. The outfits had a fire + ice theme, based on the fact that district 12 was a mining district (coal > fire, diamonds > ice).

Orihime applied to the district 12 job because of Ichigo— she saw him volunteering for his sister on TV and maybe fell a little bit in love with him, with the idea of him— how romantic, how heroic of him, how noble to be able to volunteer for his sister like that— the same age as her, and so handsome, too, she wants to be by his side, she wants to help him, she wants to make sure he looks his best at the games so that he can maximise his chances of returning to his sister… as stated previously Orihime grew up entrenched in the capitol mindset so she is not yet aware of how fucked up the whole system is. Uryuu, meanwhile, nobody is particularly sure why he applied for the job… he said something trite about wanting to use his skills where it’s most needed, how he likes a challenge, but orihime wonders if that’s really all there is to it— outwardly, he’s the picture perfect new graduate, enthusiastic, happy, proud of his job— but there are moments when they are being applauded for their latest creations when she thinks his expression goes a little sour… it’s always fleeting and gone so fast that she can never be sure however

Ichiruki, meanwhile, are the talk of the town. What with their stunning entrance at the opening ceremony and rukia’s public confession, all they have to do now is ride this wave of popularity all the way through the games for an easy win— unfortunately, they are both terribly bad at knowing how to manipulate this situation to their advantage. They both understand the gist of urahara’s plan — act like they’re falling in love— but neither of them understand WHY or HOW this will work. Why would the audience be invested in their falling in love? What exactly do they want to see? HOW do they act like they’re falling in love? (and, in Rukia’s case— how much of it should be pretend, how much of it is real?)

Enter Rangiku, the previous district 12 stylist. She and gin grew up in one of the districts, both hating the games and the capitol, until one day at 14 yrs old, gin said to her ‘i’m gonna make it so that you don’t have to be afraid of your name being called at the reapings no more’, volunteered as tribute, won the games, and promptly disappeared from her life.

Years later, rangiku sees gin on tv as the new host of the hunger games. She’s stunned and infuriated— she thought they both hates the capitol for what they did to the districts and now he’s WORKING for them? What the hell is he thinking? So rangiku packs up and moves to the capitol— her plan is to try to see him, to talk things out, surely there must be some kind of misunderstanding— but gin is all rich and famous now, and very heavily guarded, and she’s a nobody. There’s no way anyone will let her within ten feet of gin at all— so, rangiku decides she’s going to have to join the circus to talk to its head clown, and becomes a stylist.

Unfortunately, even as a stylist, she can’t get a word to him edgewise— and she’s starting to suspect that maybe it’s not that she can’t get to him, but that gin is actively avoiding her. She COULD climb the ranks until he can no longer avoid her— she is very good at this stylist gig, much to her surprise— but she doesn’t have the heart to do the backstabbing and bribing necessary for that. She is constantly warring between ‘I cannot pour my talent into something this morally bankrupt’ and ‘but maybe if I do my best, I’ll give my district’s kids a fighting chance’.

Eventually, by the time ichiruki step up, rangiku is so sick of having to dress kids up nicely for slaughter that she hands in her resignation, gives up on gin, and is getting ready to move back home to her district. That is, until she sees what an absolute record-breaker ichiruki are becoming, and start to hope again— that maybe, this year things will be different. That maybe, they will be different. That maybe, at least one of ‘her kids’ won’t go home in a coffin this year, will instead require outfits for a victory tour instead— a victory tour that is accompanied by their stylists… and the host.

So, rangiku comes back in an unofficial capacity to help ichiruki refine their act a bit more. But with less than one month left till the games commence, will what they come up with be enough to carry them through the entire games? And, even if it does— what will happen if at the end of it all, the two people who remain are ichigo and rukia— when only one person gets to return home alive?

Very unrelated point, but: ichigo apologised to rukia for grabbing her wrist post-tribute interview. Just wanted to clarify it is NOT alright to grab at people under any circumstances— ichigo did it in the heat of the moment, but when everything was cleared up he apologised for it. Had to mention this somewhere because it bothered me so much while drawing this installment— Ichigo you have NO room to be scolding the reporter for grabbing rukia, you did it not too long ago yourself! Having said that, that’s probably why he’s being very touchy about this— it was something that had been a sore point for him too very recently.

To be continued!

#bleach #ichiruki #bleach fanart #artist life #bleach art life #kurosaki ichigo #kuchiki rukia #hunger games au

370 notes · View notes

onewithnomightypowers · 3 years

Text

Old Habits

pairing: Tom Holland x fem!reader

summary: Old habits come back when you meet an ex lover after a long time. Conversations feel like you never stopped talking to them. Sometimes you have to see them one last time to say goodbye like you mean it but most of the time it doesn’t go as planned.

warning: drinking

words: 2.1k

a/n: could be read as part 2 of last kiss but is a stand alone. got a bit poetic at the end. hope you guys like it. and as always, love reading your opinions/reactions. also asks are open. (gif not mine)

masterlist

'@tomholland2013 posted a story'

She picked up her phone to open Instagram. Yes, Y/N still had notifications on for his account even after they were broken up for months. Classic Tom.

He posted two of the same picture on his story. No one understood how that would happen almost every time, not even the people working at Instagram to whom they contacted about the glitch.

Tom had his hair slicked back, standing in a white t-shirt next to Harry, his brother, giving a million-dollar smile. They were holding a clapperboard together. There was text on the picture too, 'day 1 let's go!!' She smiled to herself. Just because they weren't together doesn't mean that she wasn't allowed to feel happy for his achievements. Even though she wishes to know all these big things from Tom himself she is, unfortunately, left here, watching a small part of his life flash in front of her for less than thirty seconds.

"Are you listening?" Hope, Y/N's date said.

"Yeah, I'm sorry. You were saying?" Y/N placed the phone back where it was resting, next to the cold wine bottle.

"You seem distant," they said.

When she 'met' Hope (she only really met them 30 minutes ago), Y/N wasn't looking for love, just sex, and that is what online dating specializes in. She hoped Hope knew what they were signing up for, sexual intimacy and nothing else.

"It doesn't matter does, does it? We both know what we are here for. Why not just cut the chase," Y/N replied.

It was early in the morning, the sun had yet to shine in its full glory. Y/N could only think of the first time she stayed over at Tom's old apartment but then she turned her head only to find Hope's naked body next to her. Her heartbeat accelerated with the realization that he was not hers anymore. Being in a foreign environment didn't help her growing anxiety, twisting and turning her intestines.

It's been four months, her feelings for Tom refuse to quit on her because she knows she could never quit on them, on him, even if he has. He probably has already found someone else in Canada, she thought. She didn't want him anymore but she still needed him, one last time just to teach her stupid heart how to say goodbye.

Y/N wore her clothes and picked up her shoes, going on a trail to find Hope's door to get out before they wake up. Climbing down the stairs, she took out her phone from the back pocket of her jeans.

'5 new messages from Sam' 7 hours ago

Sam: hey

Sam: ik it's late

Sam: I am going for a run tmr morning @6

Sam: do you wanna come?

Sam: will go to the new coffee house near my house after that

Y/N texted him back

Y/N: I'll meet you at the coffee place

Sam: come fast. already here

Sam and Y/N were standing in the queue to place their orders. “You look especially shitty today,” Sam said, running his right hand through his sweaty hair.

“I haven’t been home yet,” Y/N reasoned her appearance.

His mouth formed an ‘o’ shape. The person in front of them left the queue, they moved towards the counter. “One hazelnut latte, double shot with skimmed milk,” Y/N gave her order.

“And you?” the cashier’s question directed to Sam.

“I’ll have a matcha latte with oat milk”

Sam turned to Y/N, “Harrison got me on matcha, and now I can’t go back to coffee”

They paid their dues and moved over to the barista counter to collect their order.

“So, what were you doing last night?” Sam inquired.

“I was on a date, it isn't a big deal though. Just had some needs to take care of”

“Oh, was it any good?”

“It was fine. I was distracted the whole time. Saw Tom’s story about halfway into the bottle of merlot. Couldn’t stop thinking about him”

“Seems…sad. But you know Tom is coming back for the Christmas weekend, I think. He might attend Harrison’s Christmas eve party”

“One hazelnut latte and one matcha latte,” someone behind the counter screamed.

“That’s us,” Sam raised his voice.

Harrison had a bucket inside his house, under a sign that said 'drop your tracking devices here' with an arrow pointing to the bucket. Y/N dropped her phone on a pile of roughly fourteen others. Debating whether to see Tom's face was something she wanted or not made her late and not very fashionably.

The house was decorated with empty liquor bottles along with red and green streamers from one wall to another. Everyone was drunk in their best dress. There were no signs of Tom yet. Y/N took a deep breath, walking towards the kitchen to get herself some liquid courage to help her socialize.

The kitchen was rather scarcely populated. Empty glasses were lined up next to the sink. Are they clean or used? Bending down, Y/N opened the refrigerator to see if Harrison had any chilled wine. No luck. "Hey," a familiar voice was heard.

She looked up at the familiar stranger.

"Hey Tom," she smiled. The refrigerator light falling on Y/N made her blush visible.

She grabbed a half-cut lemon placed in the egg tray.

“How have you been?" Tom asked leaning back on the kitchen counter, observing her movements.

Y/N walked towards the sink to grab herself a crystal glass hoping for it to be clean. "Just busy with work these days"

"I heard you got a job at Condé Nast, is that true?" he took a sip from his beer.

"Well, you heard right. You are looking at their new senior brand manager for digital", she said proudly.

Tom hugged her from the side she was holding a knife to cut the lemon for her gin and tonic. "That's great darling! You always wanted to work there"

Darling. The butterflies in her stomach were fluttering like the first time she met Tom.

"I saw your story the other day. You started filming your script, right?" she dropped the lemon in the glass.

"Yup, it was a long time coming," he grabbed the knife she was using and washed it without even knowing. He was so used to Y/N never washing utensils after using them and, he would always have to clean up after her.

"Congrats on that babe!" The word 'babe' just slipped out of practice.

Y/N grabbed a Bombay Sapphire standing still on the marble slab. The blue of the bottle shinning even in the dim-lit room.

"I missed you," Y/N made eye contact, screwing the cap back on. A long, silent pause.

I miss you too, so very much

She cleared her throat, "so, how long are you staying?"

"Going back Monday morning"

She opened a can of tonic water.

"Are you seeing someone?" Tom asked.

"Wouldn't you wanna know" a smirk on her face grew. "I've been out on few dates, nothing serious. What about you?"

"Met this girl online, dated for a bit but, she wanted something I couldn't give to her"

Y/N scoffed, "did she have a foot fetish or something?"

"No, Y/N. She wanted love, not my feet" they both laughed.

"On that topic..." Tom calmed himself, "...I was listening to this song a few weeks ago and, there was this line, 'the smell of your hair reminds me of her feet' and it made me think of you"

"I reckon," she took a sip of her gin and tonic.

"No, seriously, I really related to that line. No matter how many people I hook up with, it will be hard to find the type of intimacy I shared with you. I still relate to it"

"I hate going on walks alone and having faceless dreams," Y/N blurted, lacking a proper reaction.

"You're still the face of all my fantasies," Tom confessed.

None of them knew what to say next. Anything they thought of saying now included walking over the blurry line of exes to lovers.

"You look pretty"

"Classic me, had a glow up after getting my heartbroken"

"You always looked this pretty. You are beautiful," Tom assured her. The 'heartbroken part did not sit well with him. He already felt guilty for taking a job across the pond which was a great opportunity for him to grow but was only possible by severing his ties with Y/N.

It had just started snowing on Boxing Day. Tom was alone in his cold home, boiling a pot of ramen noodles. He took out his phone and snapped a picture of the burning stove with the pot on top.

Tom: *attached photo*

Tom: I come back after months and my family leaves me alone with no food

Y/N: you should add a poached egg

Tom: Thanks. I shall.

Tom: I think I made too much ramen for me

Tom: do you wanna come over and share?

Her indecision was visible by the coming and going of the gray dots. Then finally, Tom could tame his anxiety by her simple reply.

Y/N: sure.

There was a loud knock on the door. Tom put two bowls of hot ramen on the dining table and went to open the door. Behind the door, Y/N was standing with her hands inside her brown checker coat. There was dust of snow sitting on her shoulders. Her braided hair was made by the most anxious hands in town.

The door opened and, Tom’s hands flew to take Y/N in his arms. They hugged like little kids hug their parents after being away from each other, for them, an eternity. It did feel like an eternity to them too but, they hadn’t forgotten each other’s touch.

“I parked my car at the church, couldn’t find any spot here ‘cause of the snow," she pulled out.

“The snow seems to be gaining momentum.”

Y/N hummed in agreement. She took off her coat and hung it in the Holland’s coat closet.

“Come on, the ramen is getting cold,” she followed tom into the kitchen.

They sat adjacent on the wooden table in comfortable silence. Tom used chopsticks and, Y/N used a fork. Only the occasional noodles falling in the broth were heard, along with the gushing of wind.

“It’s really spicy for me,” Tom said.

“Yeah, I can see your ears turning red.”

She still remembers

Y/N raised her hand to cover her mouth while yawning.

“Since you made the food, I’ll do the dishes,” she got up, grabbed their bowls, and walked over to the sink.

Wearing the gloves, she turned to Tom, “it was quite tasty”.

Tom gave her a smile.

She spread the soap on the dishes and turned the tap on. Tom pushed his chair back to get up.

“Have you made any friends at your new job,” he jumped and sat on the counter next to Y/N.

“Yeah, sort of. Kyara works there too so, I have just made her friends my friends,” she washed his chopsticks.

“That’s good. Have you talked to Emily after the wedding? She told me they are planning on adopting.”

“They invited me over for dinner when they got the approval from the agency. Kyara made this amazing Hyderabadi biryani, it was her mum’s recipe so, it was obviously better than the restaurant”

“God! You and your love for Indian food”

Y/N removed her gloves, “I should go. Thanks for the ramen, by the way”

“Are you sure you can go out in this weather?”

“Yeah I think," she started walking out of the kitchen.

Tom grabbed her hand. “Stay”, his voice was like cotton.

Y/N turned and made contact with his pleading eyes. She moved closer to him. “Please”, he said. They both were inching in to lock their desperate lips.

Y/N did not notice when she had fallen asleep talking to Tom. Their naked bodies were covered by the white comforter. Her eyes slowly opened to a boy with brown eyes and messy hair looking at her.

“I like it when you sleep. I love watching you sleep”

She chuckled. “That’s a bit creepy, don’t you think?” She had a sleepy voice.

“You look so serene, the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. I could stare at you for eons”

“But love, I'm only here till the snow settles,” she caressed his cheeks.

“Then the cold shall frost our limbs," he leaned in to kiss her.

tags: @elios-timotea

#tom holland #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland imagine #tom holland smut #tom holland x reader #tom holland fluff #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #spiderman #marvel fanfiction #marvel #spiderman x reader #spiderman x y/n #spider man #spiderman x you

122 notes · View notes

writingwithacupoftea · 4 years

Text

Dusty Black Coat

Summary: Tommy Shelby is famous for his dusty black coat - it's part of his signature look. But, really, it's not just his anymore...it's his sister's as well.

Word Count: 2765

Trigger Warnings: References to sexual assault after the third set of asterisks (***).

A/N: Hey hey hey, how are we all doing? I’m so happy to finally share this fic with you, it’s one that I’ve worked really hard on and it was one of the first ideas I had for a Peaky Blinders fic. As usual, let me know what you think and I hope you enjoy it!!

Tommy and Y/N Shelby had a relationship that no one could quite make sense of. Some people argued that the siblings were too similar for their own good, and that was the reason behind their seemingly constant arguing.

But in between all of that, there were moments of tenderness. These often occurred in complete silence, as they simply enjoyed the other's company. Amidst the hustle and bustle of a Friday night in the Garrison, Y/N could often be found with her head rested on her older brother's shoulder, sipping a gin as they watched Arthur and John's drunken antics with soft smiles on their faces. Or, if you happened to glimpse through the window of the Shelby residence on Watery Lane, you wouldn't be surprised to see the pair curled up in front of the fire, reading late at night.

Yes, it was a complicated relationship to say the least.

Then Tommy went to France, and the residents of Small Heath realised just how much Y/N loved her big brother. Of course, she missed all of her brothers while they were away, yet it was the one that the 18-year-old spend the most time yelling at that she clearly missed the most. It wasn't tears or words that communicated it, however. It was the fact that Y/N Shelby was nearly always walking the streets wearing Tommy's long, black coat.

The seven-year gap in age between the siblings meant that it was very oversized on her body to begin with. But as the years passed and the war continued raging on, the coat grew to suit Y/N quite nicely as she moved into her twenties.

When Tommy returned home, no one knew that him and his brothers were coming back, so the family didn't have chance to prepare. In fact, the first time that he saw Y/N, after four years away fighting, she was fast asleep. Upon closer inspection, Tommy had noticed that she was clutching his coat close to her chest and frowned at Polly, who had followed him, in confusion.

"She's barely let go of it since you left," and with those words Tommy found himself mimicking the gentle smile that graced Polly's face.

Since that day, a newfound understanding was created between Tommy and Y/N. Yes, they still argued (a lot, as any member of the Shelby clan would testify), but there was also now an unbreakable bond between the siblings. No one, not even the two themselves, knew what was so different about it, as nothing really changed in their relationship. But there was something there.

Oh, and it was also as clear as day that Tommy's sweeping black coat was definitely now Y/N’s as well...

***

Y/N loved the glamour of race days, no matter what business was occurring alongside them. Getting dressed up, having a few drinks, catching up with friends that she hadn't seen in a while; yes, she adored going to the races.

Everyone usually stumbles straight into the Garrison upon the return to Small Heath, and continues the party there. Tonight, however, not everyone chose to go to the cosy pub.

Y/N knew that her work could wait until the morning, but the meeting today was crucial for the expansion process of the Shelby Company Limited, and she wanted to get it done now.

No one had been into her office for hours, and when she had left earlier that day Y/N had neglected to close the window properly, so the cold October air had seeped into every nook and cranny of the room. She tried to concentrate on the papers in front of her, but her thin (but beautiful) dress did nothing to keep the cold at bay and she couldn't write properly with her fur shawl on. Sighing, Y/N put her pen down and made her way to Tommy's office to see if it was any warmer in there. She hated working in an office that wasn't her own, it was too distracting, but she had to decide which was the lesser evil: distraction through cold, or distraction through location. As she looked around Tommy's grand office, however, she found the perfect solution to her issue: Tommy's coat was hanging on a stand next to the door. With a triumphant smile on her face, Y/N marched back to her office with the heavy material sitting nicely on her body.

An hour later, she was still going with her paperwork, still wearing Tommy's coat, and completely oblivious to the time and anything else going on around her. So, naturally, Y/N didn't notice her brother appearing in the doorway to her office, having noticed the light glowing within the room.

"It's not like you to miss a night at the Garrison."

Y/N jumped what felt like a mile in the air, dropping her pen in the process, and placed her hand on her heart. "Jesus Christ, Tommy! I bloody hate it when you sneak up on me like that!"

A small chuckle fell from Tommy's lips as he sat down on the chair on the other side of her desk. "We had a good day today, Y/N," Tommy stated before lighting a cigarette, "We're moving up in the world." He paused, examining his younger sister thoughtfully. "And that, Y/N/N, means that you can afford to buy your own coat." Tommy's serious tone was, in Y/N's opinion, completely undermined but the glimmer of a smile that graced his face for a matter of seconds.

Y/N huffed dramatically, "It's called being resourceful, Thomas. My office was like an ice box, and your coat was just hanging there. Really, if you're that possessive over it you shouldn't leave it lying around." She raised her eyebrows and smirked at her big brother as she put her papers back into the drawer and locked it. "What are you doing here anyway?"

"I actually came here to get that so, come on, give it here"

"You can't be serious"

"I'm always serious, sweetheart."

Reluctantly, Y/N stood up, removed the warm coat and handed it over. Tommy put it on himself, before leaning over and turning out the light on her desk. "Fine, leave me to freeze to death, then you'll regret it."

"Wear something sensible next time then."

Y/N simply responded by sticking her middle finger up as she walked past him, and onto the streets of Birmingham.

(Barely two minutes into their journey, however, Tommy gave in. Hand in his pocket, he opened his arm up and Y/N cuddled into his side, his arm and half of his coat wrapped tightly around her. Suffice to say the pair felt the warmest that they had been since the war began.)

***

The damp early morning mist hung low over the grounds of Arrow House, and the sun was slowly beginning to rise in the distance. Y/N had barely slept, tossing and turning over and over again in her bed, her mind constantly replaying her argument with Tommy the night before. A rival gang had made threats towards the Shelby clan over a week ago, and Tommy had elected not to mention it to anyone. She didn't know why she was surprised, or shocked. But still, yet another row had ensued with her older brother.

As the clock on her bedside table ticked over to hit 5am, Y/N felt a desperate need to walk and think and breathe. And so, still wearing her nightgown, she made her way over to the stables, only stopping briefly to collect Tommy's heavy coat to keep her warm, not really thinking about her actions.

Y/N didn't know how long she had been in the stables. She had run a hand over all of the horses, speaking to them in hushed tones as she did so. Memories of her childhood came flooding back to her, and she was hit with a wave of sadness as she realised that the simplicity of their old life was long gone. Instead, she only had these lone moments to cherish, away from the chaos that Tommy's ambition had brought with it. Anger towards her brother hit Y/N once again, and yet she found herself hugging his coat closer to her, seeking comfort in it that everything would be okay in the end.

Thomas Shelby, she thought, humourlessly, the king of providing people with conflicting emotions; sounds about right.

She was removed from her thoughts, however, as Y/N heard her name being called out from afar. Speaking of the devil, she mused; but she decided not to alert him to her whereabouts. As Tommy's voice got nearer, she realised that she had heard him use that tone of voice once before, panic-stricken and desperate: when Charlie was taken. Guilt coursed through Y/N's body, and yet part of her felt a small amount of satisfaction. He needed to be reminded of the importance of family, something that had escaped him in the months following Grace's death, and to experience some raw emotion for once.

Moments later, Tommy crashed through the stable doors, wild eyes searching the place frantically. When they landed on his sister's figure perched on a bale of hay, he let out a breath that he didn't even know that he had been holding. Upon finding Y/N's bed empty when he woke up, and seeing the front door slightly ajar, complete, unadulterated fear had consumed his entire being. The only thought that ran through his brain was they've taken her...they've taken her...they've taken her...

And so seeing her, safe, unharmed and swathed in his coat (as she so frequently was), broke down any remaining barriers that were still left standing.

Tommy quickly gathered her into his arms, hugging her closer than ever before. Y/N was stunned – she and Tommy never hugged properly; it just wasn't their way. But, despite her anger, she melted into it, not wanting to let this moment slip away.

As Tommy pulled away, holding Y/N at arm's length to examine her for any sign of harm and finding nothing, he suddenly found himself able to speak again, though his voice hoarse from shouting: "Even when you're mad at me, you can't leave without my fucking coat, can you?" Y/N, unable to hide a small smile, slapped his arm and started to make her way up to the house, Tommy following closely behind, not wanting her to wander off alone again.

***

It was no secret that Y/N Shelby was a fiercely independent young woman (this often clashed rather badly with Tommy's desire to control, and the combination sparked many an argument between the pair). She hated people mollycoddling her, and so when she was still having nightmares a month after being sexually assaulted in a London club, Y/N didn't mention it to anyone. All she did was try to continue her work and life as normally as she could, constantly pushing her exhaustion to one side.

Of course, what she didn't bank on was the fact that Thomas fucking Shelby could read her like a fucking book. And a children's one at that.

He'd been there the night it happened: whilst Tommy had met with the club's owner, Y/N was dancing with a friend. She'd slipped off to get another drink from the bar (on the house, obviously) when one man thought he'd try his luck. Reeking of alcohol and speech slurred, he'd been incredibly...persistent...and because they were at the end of the bar on a crowded Saturday night, no one had noticed as the drunk pulled her into a back room, tearing at her dress as she tried to fight him off.

Well, let's just say that he wasn't very lucky that night – Tommy had noticed his sister's absence and somehow managed to find her before anything went any further. To this day, Y/N still didn't know how her big brother had done it, all she knew was that she'd never been so relieved to see him. She didn't really remember the journey to Ada's house, where Tommy had taken her to be looked after while he went and hunted down the man who had dared to do this to his little sister: he had only managed to get in a few punches before turning his attention to Y/N, and it wasn't enough. The only thing that Y/N could clearly recollect was cuddling into her brother's chest as she sobbed, knowing that she was now safe. He'd buttoned his coat around her trembling figure, and to Y/N it was like he was still hugging her as he drove, the one thing keeping her grounded.

She felt the man's hands on her body every time she began to drift off to sleep. But she wouldn't tell anyone. Carrying on like everything was normal was just her way of coping with things, and she didn't want anyone to take that away from her.

It was eight o'clock at night when Y/N returned to the offices of Shelby Company Limited. She had been at the gin factory all day, checking on the progress being made there, and she was now more than ready for Tommy to take them back to Arrow House so that she could put her feet up. But, to her dismay, Tommy was still working away at his desk.

"Please don't tell me you're gonna be long, Tom?"

The man in question looked up at his sister, taking in her slumped posture and the darkness underneath her eyes. Instead of replying, he simply poured two whiskeys, grabbed his papers and sat down on the sofa in his office, gesturing for Y/N to do the same. Sighing, she removed her coat and hat and collapsed onto the space beside him, taking a large swig of the whiskey once she was comfortable.

"I'll be as quick as I can."

And with that, Tommy continued to read. Lulled by the warmth, whiskey and peace, Y/N's eyelids began to droop and (despite numerous attempts to stifle it) finally let out a long yawn. Not taking his eyes off the document in front of him, Tommy moved the remaining papers from his knee and placed them on the arm of the sofa.

"Go on," he said, in what was (for Tommy, at least) a lighter tone of voice.

Letting out a dry chuckle, Y/N looked over at her elder brother and replied: "I'm not 4 years-old anymore, Tommy, I will not -"

But before she could finish her sentence, she let out another yawn, causing Tommy to finally look away from his work to raise his eyebrows at her with a smirk.

"Fine," Y/N grumbled, "But if we're here much longer I'll just annoy you until we leave."

She slowly started to lay down onto the sofa, resting her head on Tommy's lap, and he subconsciously found himself stroking her hair with his free hand. When Y/N was much younger, this set-up wasn't unusual in the slightest, and the young woman now found herself feeling far more relaxed than she had been in months. So much so that she kept finding herself nodding off, but would shake herself awake every time, not wanting the nightmares to begin playing again.

He didn't show it, but Tommy was disheartened that his sister still wasn't going to sleep. He had hoped that the familiar position alone might be enough to send her off, as Tommy knew that he had quite a bit of reading left to do and wanted Y/N to get some rest. Tommy was more than aware that his sister hadn't been the same since that night in London, but didn't want to mention anything to her for fear that she'd bite his head off.

The great Thomas Shelby was scared of his younger sister, who'd have believed it?

After a few moments of silent thought, he realised that the solution was simple. He reached around to grab his coat, which he had thrown over the back of the sofa, and placed it over Y/N's body like a blanket. When she looked up at him, silently posing a question, Tommy spoke to her softly.

"Get some rest, sweetheart. I won't leave you."

Tears welled up in the younger Shelby's eyes as she nodded slightly, grateful (for once) that Tommy knows her better than she knows herself. Y/N curled her knees up slightly and snuggled in to the warm, dark material. Feeling her brother's hand securely on her shoulder as he rubbed his thumb backwards and forwards over it, and inhaling the scent of whiskey, cigarettes and just Tommy, Y/N knew that nothing could get to her...and so she drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

#peaky blinders #tommy shelby #peaky blinders sister #tommy shelby x sister reader #tommy shelby x sister!reader #shelby sister #shelby!sister #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby imagine #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fic

955 notes · View notes

weasleysprincess · 3 years

Text

New Flame

A/n: This is my first Bill x reader, still trying to get Bill right also I’m wanting for this to be a series. Bill don’t get much love and I wanted give him some more :) I did write this as Fem!reader, I can do gender neutral readers for other people, I’m used to writing as a female since I’m a female. Also Gryffindor reader! I might change the series’ name not sure how I feel about this one

Summary: You’re best friends with the twins and go to the quidditch world cup with the family before your 7th year. A certain older Weasley finally sees your fancy to him.

I was excited when the Weasley’s owl dropped off a letter from Fred asking me if I could join him and his family to the quidditch world cup. Quidditch wasn’t my favorite thing, I’ve been supporting the Weasley’s in quidditch since Charlie played. I packed my bags for the game and school, Molly said I could leave my school things in Percy’s room. The Burrow came into sight finally. “Wow, you grew up fast”, I heard a voice say, I turned around to see a long haired ginger. “Bill”, I smiled. “Y/n, you’re here! Hi sweetheart”, Molly smiled, walking to me with her arms opened. “Hi Molly, thank you for letting me stay”, I said. “Oh nonsense, you’re family dear”, Molly smiled. “Fred! George! Come take Y/n’s things to Ginny and Percy’s room” I heard running and pushing “Oh no”, I said as I prepared myself for the impact of the twins. “What?”, Bill asked as George picked up as Fred and him engulfed me into their grip. They had grown a lot since the first of June, somehow Fred got me in his arms. “Miss me that much, Freddie?”, I asked as he held me longer. He nodded. “Alright put the girl down, Frederick”, Bill said. “Owahh. You’re no fun at all”, Fred whined as he sat me down. “Thank you”, I said as the boys took my bags. “No problem, Y/n”, Bill smiled. “How’s Egypt?” “Good actually, but it’s good to be home for once”, Bill said. I smiled. “Heard you made prefect?”, Bill asked. “I did, who told?”, I asked. “Ginny, odd actually. I expected Fred to spill it. Congratulations, Y/n” “Thanks Bill”, I grinned.

“Y/n”, Ginny jumped the last step and landed in my chest. “Omph. Hi Gin, I missed you too”, I hugged the ginger girl back. The young girl squeezed me, “Ginny, can’t breathe”, I whined. “I’m sorry I just missed you is all”, She mumbled in my chest. “Ginny! Why is my broom in your room?”, Ron yelled. Ginny looked at me and then Bill, before running away from the older ginger. “Is she like this in school?”, Bill asked. “I might have a soft spot for your sister”, I giggled. “Y/n”, He shook his head. “I understand, her puppy dog eyes still have an effect on me too”, Bill smiled, laid his hand on my shoulder before stalking upstairs. Bill made fire run up my body and core when he laid his hand on me. I watched him disappear up the stairs, “Hey you okay?”, Fred asked. “Yeah. when did you get down here?”, I asked. “Just as Bill walked up and I saw you watching him. What’s up with that huh?”, Fred asked, turning the water tap on to fill his glass. “Nothing is up, Bill and I have talked before, Frederick”, I scoffed. “I don’t think you’ve had heart eyes at him”, Fred laughed. “I do not! Stop being a pest!”, I sighed, throwing my head back. I walked in the twins’ room and jumped face first into George’s bed. “May I help you, doll?”, George asked from the desk. “Just want to die right now is all, Georgie”, I said in the blanket. “I’m sorry?”, George asked again. I raised up, “Just Fred being nosey is all, he thinks I have a thing for Bill” “Do you? Hey that means you would be an actually Weasley, if you got married”, George smiled getting excited.

“Not you too, Georgie!’, I whined. “I’m sorry, would you rather marry Fred or me instead?”, George asked. “Knock it off, I would kill Fred before we even got in bed together”, I rolled my eyes. “So you wouldn’t kill me and I could get you into bed is what you’re saying?”, George smirked. “Not exactly but you and Charlie have a better chance than Fredrick does”, I giggled. “I’ll be waiting, Princess”, George smiled. “Hey don’t tell Fred, he’ll start something and I don’t feel like dealing with him”, I asked while holding George’s hand. “Sure, anything for you, Princess”, George kissed my temple. “Hey lovebirds, dinner”, Bill said, turning around leaving. I jumped back a little. “Come on, if you don’t get there before Ron you won’t get the good stuff”, George said. We got down there, Arthur was at the head of the table, Fred and George were together. Hermoine and Harry arrived, leaving me to be next to Bill and Ron. “Y/n, dear there’s place next to William”, Molly smiled, pulling dinner from the oven. “Thanks”, I muttered. “Hi again”, Bill smiled. “Hi Bill”, I sat down. “Y/n, Hermoine and I are having girls’ night. We want you there, please”, Ginny smiled. “Save me a spot, Gin”, I returned the smile. Everyone was having a conversation with each other, I was just finishing my food and just moving my fork through the peas and chicken bones. I heard the twins to be excused and Ginny followed. Ginny loved the twins and especially if they let her tagalog to whatever. The trio stood up, Hermoine leaned to me, “Come to Ginny’s room after you get ready for bed” “Thank you, mione”, I smiled. It was Molly, Arthur, Bill and I left. “Did I tell you Charlie would be coming back home, Bill?”, Molly asked. “No, mum you didn’t. He’s married isn’t he?”, Bill sat up, knocking his knee into my thigh. “Heaven’s no, I wish. Hogwarts is hosting the Triwizard tournament this year. One of the tasks has dragons, Charlie offered to supply them”, Molly said. I smiled at the thought of the other older Weasley. He was like my best friend when I started Hogwarts, he always looked after me and walked me to classes.

“Y/n, did you bring a dress this year?”, Molly asked. “It’s getting tailored, Mum’s sending it after my aunt finishes it”, I replied. “Your muggle aunt?”, Arthur asked. “No, my great aunt Sophia. She lives in Italy”, I said. Arthur knew some of my extended family were half bloods, and would ask me about their muggle things. “Thank you for the lovely dinner, Mols”, Arthur stood from his chair. He kissed her cheek. “You’re welcome dear”, She smiled. “Mum, you and dad go relax. I’ll clean up tonight”, Bill smiled. “Oh thank you, baby. You’re too sweet”, She smiled, holding his cheek. Bill grabbed the plates, stacking them up. “Care for an extra hand?”, I asked, getting the cups. “No at all, love”, Bill said walking to the sink. I blushed at the nickname. The twins barreled in the burrow, one of them was carrying Ginny on their shoulders. “Don’t drop her and be quiet. Mum and Dad are relaxing!”, Bill raised his voice. “Oh so you and Y/nn decided to play house? How cute”, Fred chuckled. Bill blushed, “Get upstairs” “Sure thing, loverboy. Night Y/n! Oh and Gin’s room is the last one on left”, Fred smirked. “Go!”, I mouthed. “Night Bill, glad you’re back. Night Y/n”, George smiled at his oldest brother. “Night George, missed you too”, Bill grinned. “Night Billy”, Ginny hugged his torso. “Night Ginny” “You better be upstairs before 8:30”, She looked at me, wiggling her eyebrows where Bill couldn’t see her. “Yes mother”, I giggled. “I wouldn’t break that curfew if I was you, love”, Bill had a shit eating grin. “Worry about your own ass, Weasley”, I smirked, wiping the table down.

“Ginny open up!”, Bill said in front of me. “What do you want, William?”, She huffed. “Geez Ginvera! Chill, I’m just delivering your guest of honor”, Bill said pulling me in front of him. “He insisted on this”, I giggled. “Okay, have fun, don’t stay up too late. Uh, if you wanna do someone’s make up go to the twins’ room. Goodnight ladies' ', Bill smiled, patting my head before leaving to his room. “Brothers'', Ginny rolled her eyes. “He’s not too bad, Gin”, I said, unzipping my suitcase. “Whatever, says the one who has had heart eyes all day at Bill'', Ginny shot back. “As if you weren’t doing the same at Potter'', I scoffed. “Lets not fight before the night has began”, Hermoine said. Ginny and I looked at each other before smiling, “Hermoine and Ron sitting in a tree! K-I-S-S-I-N-G! Muuhh muuhh!” “Shut up!”, Hermoine rolled her eyes. I high waved Ginny, “Hey 10 galleons on them remember?” “I have it, don’t worry”, Ginny smirked.

Next morning, Molly announced her and Arthur were going to town to get stuff for the world cup. Leaving Bill in charge, the twins suggested a quidditch match in the field. Ron and Harry were happy at the suggestion. We all went outside, “You not playing?”, Bill asked. “No, I prefer watching this game instead”, I said, trying not to blush. “Granger?”, He asked Hermoine. “No, thank you Bill” “Okay. Boys! Ginny!”, Bill stalked off to the kids. I watched his back side, tight jeans carved his thighs out nicely, t-shirt that was too tight on his biceps, Godric that long fiery hair that was now put up in a bun. “When did he pierce his ear?”, I asked. “Who?”, Moine asked. “I said that out loud?”, I blushed. Hermoine nodded. “Bill, he has an earring in his ear now”, I said. “Better watch it, Potter!”, Fred laughed above us. The game ended, everyone was hungry. Bill was slowly walking to the burrow. “What did you do to him?”, I asked. “He just can’t keep up anymore”, Ron snickered. “You guys go ahead. Hey Bill you okay?”, I asked the tall red. “Oh yeah, just haven’t played in years and forgot how intense Weasleys play”, Bill said. “Sure that’s the reason”, I smirked, walking behind the twins again. “If you’re implying I’m too old, I’m not okay? 24 isn’t old, Y/n”, Bill yelled as we got into the burrow. “You’re out of shape too, William!”, Fred yelled back to the field. “Shut up!”, we heard Bill yell back. “Maybe you can perk him up, Y/n”, Fred winked.

It was time for us to meet Arthur’s friend from work, we had ate breakfast and got hugged goodbye by Molly. George had me on his back as we walked with his father, “You like Bill?”, he asked. “Yeah, Bill’s cool”, I replied back, running my hand through his locks. “When did he get an earring?”, I asked. “Sometime after, he got to Egypt. Bunk buddy did it for him”, George said. “Mhmm! Okay put me down, please”, I said. “Enjoy your ride, Princess?”, Bill smirked. “I did for your information, George is a smooth rider”, I said. “Amos!” “Arthur! This must be your kids.” Amos Diggory asked. “Yes, and their friends”, Arthur smiled. “This young lad must be Cedric”, Arthur asked as my ex hopped from the tree. “Fuck me”, I groaned. “What’s wrong?”, Bill asked, squeezing my hand. “Cedric is my cheating ex, we broke up last spring”, I said looking down. “I’m sorry Y/n. You can hang with me, I’ll look after you”, Bill said. “Thanks, Bill. I’d love that”, I smiled at him. “Bill! Y/n! Come on”, George yelled. We finally got to the camp where the cup was being held. Cedric and Amos went to their tent. “Y/n, I didn’t know he was coming too. I’m sorry”, Fred said. “Fred, it’s not your fault. I don’t blame you, okay? He’s the one who ruined it not you”, I gave him a smile. “I still feel bad”, Fred ran a hand through his hair. “Don’t be! Enjoy the game before we have to go back to school, okay”, I stood on my tip toes and kissed his cheek. Before we left to meet the Diggorys again. “Y/n, can I talk to you for a moment? Kids wait outside, please”, Arthur said. “Yes Arthur?”, I asked. “The twins told about your unfortunate incident with Amos’ boy last spring. I didn’t know you weren’t together anymore, my apologies for not telling you at home”, Arthur said, holding my hand in a fatherly way. “It’s okay, Arthur really. We’re prefects, we’re eventually gonna have to talk much as I hate the idea of it. Besides Bill promised to look out for me”, I squeezed his hand. Arthur smiled, “That’s my boy”

I was holding Bill’s forearm to keep up with him and the crowd, “Hi Y/n, how are you?” Cedric asked. “Hi Diggory, I’m fine. Thanks for asking”, I gave a fake smile. Cedric nodded and went back to walking. “Stupid git”, I muttered as Bill walked again. We finally got to our seats and everyone was amazed at the view. Lucius and Draco Malfoy stood below us, being stuck up as ever. Draco looked up at me and smirked. He had a crush on me even though I’m a Gryffindor. “I hate Malfoy so much”, Ron rolled his eyes. His siblings agreed in silence. The game ended, Ireland won and the Weasleys were happy about it. Even Bill celebrated spinning Ginny around the tent. I was in a corner, I had a bad feeling something was gonna happen soon. “Hey what’s wrong?”, Bill asked. “Just got a bad feeling about something, Bill”, I said. Bill grabbed my arms, pulling me into a hug, “Stop worrying, if something does happen I’ll protect you” “You promise, Weasley?”, I smirked in his chest. “I do”, Bill said. “Victor I love youuu”, The twins and Harry started singing to Ron. Bill watched his father stop for a second. “The Irish certainly have their groove on”, Fred smirked. “It’s not the Irish, stop it! Stop it!”, Arthur raised his voice. I heard screaming and hexes being thrown around. “Everyone get somewhere safe! Fred, George Ginny’s your responsible now”, Arthur said as we got out of the tent.

Bill had me on his side as we looked around, seeing fire and people running. “Where did the twins go with Ginny?”, Bill asked. “I don’t know” “Shit! We gotta get back home now, it’s a death eater attack”, Bill picked me up and apperated us home. The twins and Ginny made it home before us. “Y/n, you okay? Guess that was your bad feeling”, Bill tucked my head from his shoulder. “Yeah guess so. Um, can you put me down now?” I asked the tall red head. We walked in, “Thank Godric, you two are okay?”, Molly looked up from Ginny’s shoulder. She pulled Bill into a tight hug, the best she could do with her son being over 6ft. She held his face and smiled. It was late and I was still up. Tomorrow would be my last year at Hogwarts and then I would be off to healer school. Ginny had finally fallen asleep in Hermoine’s arms. I looked over at the sleeping pair, “Thank god, they’re okay”, I whispered before getting out of bed. I walked downstairs to get a drink. Someone was bent over in the fridge. “Can’t sleep either?”, I asked whoever. “Y/n. Uh no not really”, Bill stood tall again. I sat down at the table and rubbed my hand over my face. “What’s eating at you?” Bill asked. “Just everything, Bill. It’s my last year before I go to be a healer. I feel like I haven’t enjoyed life much as I should have” “Y/n, you’re 18. You don’t need to know life’s answers just yet, go live your life even as a healer”, Bill sat next to me. I looked at him for a few minutes, “Don’t want life’s answers at any point of life” Bill nodded as he understood.

“Y/n, how did you find out about Cedric?”, Bill asked. “Uh, he wasn’t as loving anymore. It was two weeks before I confronted him about cheating. He told me he was going to the library to study with one of his friends, it got late and he promised we would walk around. Damn! Uh anyways, I went looking for him, there was you know those sounds. I was gonna go back to my dorm, but something told me to go see who it was.”,I felt tears on my cheeks. “Y/n you don’t have to tell me anymore”, Bill rubbed his thumbs on my face to catch the tears. “You’re the first one, I’ve actually told the whole truth about him. Let me finish. He didn’t see me, but she did, it was some random ravenclaw, she might be in the twins’ year. Cedric was too busy fucking her to notice her smiling at me, I didn’t ask him about for a week. I got him to cuddle one night in my dorm, I had my head on his chest and asked him who she was and how long he had been cheating. Of course, he broke down and told me. He told me I didn’t make him happy anymore, thought I was too close with Fred. The crazy thing he somehow blamed Fred for him cheating”, I laughed at the last part. “I’m sorry, Y/n. You didn’t deserve that, dirty fucking dog”, Bill clenched his jaw. “If it makes you feel any better the twins pranked him before we left for the summer”, I ran my finger down his jaw. Bill was still quiet, letting me crease his face. “Y/n, can I tell you something? I understand if you think it’s weird”, Bill asked. I nodded, “I don’t know what started it, but I think I love you. Which is crazy because you’re younger than me. Just something about your long soft hair, your gorgeous face and body. I’m sorry, I-” I cut Bill off by kissing him. I held his face with one hand and ran the other through his hair. “Bill, I feel the same way and believe me, I felt weird too about it but fuck it. I like you too”, I kissed the side of his lips. Bill grinned, “I’m too old for you, love. I have my career already, you haven’t even graduated Hogwarts for Merlin’s sake” “Six years between us so what? My grandparents were eight years apart and they loved each other until she passed away a couple years ago.”I said, Bill was looking at me. “Okay, fine! I’ll go back to bed until the morning and we’ll forget we kissed and all. Sorry for making you uncomfortable”, I stood up, but Bill caught my wrist.

“Would it bother you going out someone my age?”, Bill asked, rubbing my wrist. I shook my head, “Give it some time and I’ll be good” Bill nodded, standing up, pulling by my waist into his arms. I held his shoulder and peck for stability. “Y/n, want to be my girlfriend?”, Bill asked sweetly. “More than you know, Weasley”, I smiled in his arms. “May I kiss you?”, Bill asked, moving a piece of hair out of my face. “Please do”, I said. Bill leaned down, slightly picking me up and kissed me. I have had a few partners but nobody made me feel how Bill Weasley does while kissing me. My body got hot all over again, I craved more of him. I deepened the kiss, running my hands in his hair. We pulled away, needing oxygen in our lungs again. Bill rubbed his thumb over my bottom lip, smiling at me. “You’re so beautiful, love” I smiled and blushed, I was gonna say thank you but I was too embarrassed. Bill knew what I wanted to say, “Come on, it’s late. 9am comes early”, Bill said, guiding me up the stairs with a hand on my waist. We got to the level where Ginny, Ron and the twins’ room were on, I stopped for a minute. “What’s the matter?’, Bill asked softly, standing near Ginny’s door. “Kiss me goodnight please?”, I asked shyly. Y/n! Get it together, you already kissed him twice tonight! Bill’s smile broke me from my thoughts. “Well, I can’t kiss you from there. C’mere, Princess”, Bill grinned, doing come hither with his fingers. I possessed as I stood on my tiptoes to capture the oldest Weasley’s lips.

I woke up with Hermoine standing over my body with a scolding face, “Good morning, Moine”, I rolled over to my back. “Where did you go at 2 am?”, Hermoine clasped her necklace. “Couldn’t sleep so I went downstairs for a while. Is that such a crime?”, I finally got up. “I heard someone else with you when you finally came back”, Hermoine watched my every move. “I ran into George, okay? He was telling me about a prank they want to do this year”, I said, throwing some clothes on. Hermoine looked at me but decided to drop it. I straightened my black crop top shirt of Guns N Roses and buttoned my black jeans before heading down. I threw on a maroon cardigan and laced my boots, fixed my hair and bangs. “Morning Y/n”, Molly smiled. “Morning, smells wonderful”, I grinned at her again. I could feel Hermoine eyes and a different pair on my back. George yawned and ruffled my hair before sitting down with Ron. I was left to sit with Bill, a few days ago it bothered me. “Morning love, you look pretty”, Bill whispered in my ear as he grabbed my hand. “Morning Bill. Thanks, you don’t look too bad yourself”, I whispered the last part. After breakfast, Molly wanted us to check our trunks for the year. I was in Charlie and Percy’s room double checking my things, when someone clears their throat. “Whatcha doing?”, Bill asked. “Same thing everyone else is doing, silly”, I grinned. “It’s your 7th year, what could you have missed to pack? I have a better idea”, he smirked. “Oh yeah what’s that?”, I teased back. “Just your lips on me while I discover more of you, if that’s okay with you, love”, Bill ran a hand through my hair. I bite my tongue from groaning or screaming with excitement. “What d’ya say?”, Bill asked again. I turned around and grabbed his jaw, “Better make it good, who’s know when I’ll you again” Bill smirked, “That I can do, baby” Bill smashed his lips onto mine, grabbing my waist with his large hands. I ran my tongue over his bottom lip, gripping his hair, the groan didn’t slip my ears or mind. I smirked as I entered his mouth from him groaning. Bill held his hands on my thighs, he pulled away, “Jump” I smirked before wrapping my ankles around his waist and clasping my hands in his hair. “Good girl”, Bill whispered as he kissed my neck before getting my lips again. We made out for a while until Molly’s voice rang in the halls. Bill was still kissing me as Molly walked away. I pulled away, “Bill, come on let me go”, I sighed as he attacked my neck with kisses and licks. He didn’t listen, “Bill”, I whined. The older man groaned in my neck before dropping me to my feet, “Not fair” “What are you on about, Weasley?”, I asked, shutting my trunk. “Do you know how addicting your lips and kisses are? Now, you have to leave me”, Bill scolded, more like pouting. “If you help me take my trunks down, I might sneak in a kiss before I leave”, I giggled. Bill perked up and grabbed my trunks, “Huh Bill, you forgot something”, I smiled at the eager redhead. “Oh sorry”, He smiled. I kissed him for each trunk, “four kisses for four trunks, I think that’s a good deal”, I smirked as I followed him downstairs. “About time”, George groaned. “Yeah, what did you pack? A house?”, Ron rolled his eyes. “Ronald Bilius!”, Molly scolded with her hands on her hips. Fred and George grinned. “Since you’re here, want to join us Bill?”, Molly smiled at her oldest. He grinned at me and then her, “I would love to, Mum”

“Jesus, Y/n what did you pack?”, Fred groaned as he threw my last trunk in. “You know uniforms, robes, after school clothes, my bass and my guitar”, I smirked as Lee Jordan walked in the booth. “Hey Lee”, I said. “Lee help me. Princess decided to bring stuff she didn’t need”, Fred groaned. “Work out more and you won’t have that problem, Frederick”, I smirked. “Hey is that Angelina? Wow she grew up this year!”, George said, winking at me. Fred almost broke his neck trying to find the girl who wasn’t even there. We all laughed at him, “Fuck you, Georgie”, he huffed plopping down with his twin. The boys started their own conversation, I decided to read ‘The Great Gatsby’. The longer I read, the more I thought of Bill, his hands on my waist, biceps that bludged as he held me against a wall of his childhood home. Godric forbid, his plump, soft pink lips. The way he made me feel was more than Cedric or even my secret girlfriend, Evie. The thought of Bill Weasley drove me mad and my body even crazier.

A few days later, I was in Great hall with Hermoine. Kids were putting their name into the goblet, cheering as their name was accepted. The twins barreled in the Great hall, talking about the potion they made. I told them they were wasting their time, it wouldn’t work because they’re not old enough and Molly would kill them for even entering. “It’s not gonna worrrkkk”, Hermoine smirked. “Moine, don’t start”, I sighed as George pushed by to kennel by the younger girl. “Oh yeah, why’s that granger?”, Fred smirked. Hermoine huffed, rolled her eyes before replying, “It’s an age line drawn by Dumbleodore himself.”, I rolled my eyes and blocked them out, Hermoine didn’t realize sometimes you gotta let the two idiots do stuff to find out not everything will go their way. “Guys, what happens if it actually works? Then Dumbledore pulls one of your names, he’s not gonna let you either one of you attempt the tasks”, I held George’s hand. They looked at each other and smirked, “Chill”, Fred said squishing my cheek. “You worry too much, brookie”, George held my other cheek. “Fine, do it, I don’t care”, I sighed as Cedric dropped his name in. We locked eyes for a moment, “Meet me outside”, He mouthed. George and Fred drank their potion and jumped into the line. “Oh no”, I whined, knowing it was gonna go south any second now. “Yeahhh”, Fred and George high waved to each other. Blue flames shot out and the twins were thrown out of the line. The hall was quiet before giggling filled the hall, I looked over to see the twins now old men with beards similar to our headmaster.

“You said”, “You said”, the twins whined before tackling each to the ground. I decided to see what Cedric wanted, “Y/n”, Cedric said from the stairs. “What is it, Diggory?”, I rolled my eyes. “Just want to talk is that a problem?”, Cedric asked. “Depends on the topic”, I deadpanned. “I know I fucked up hard and broke your heart. I shouldn’t have tried to find some other happiness, I needed to talk to you instead of-”, I cut him off. “Instead of thinking with your dick and plunging it into some girl who was willing to help get your rocks off, am I in the right direction, Ced? Whatever you have to say I don’t care nor do I want to ever speak to you again unless prefect duties make that in motion. So get fucked, Diggory”, I stood tall. Cedric looked guilty and wasn’t making eye contact. “What I thought and stay far away from me”, I grabbed his chin, making him look at me.

“Why were you with Brooks? I thought you liked Chang?”, Tommy, Cedric’s best friend asked. “Don’t worry about it”, Cedric stormed off. Dinner came along, I was seated between the twins as usual. “What’s wrong?”, Fred asked, getting a drink. “I’ll tell you guys later, okay?”, I said with no emotions. The pair seem to understand I was moody and could snap any moment. Cedric walked in with Cho laughing, holding her hand. Some much anger coursed with my body, I snapped the cup in my hand. The twins, Hermoine, Harry, Ron and Lee stared at me. I got up and walked to the door. “Miss Brooks'', Professor McGonall yelled behind me. “Professor, no disrespect but I don’t think now is the time to talk to her”, George said. I slammed the door of my prefect dorm, screaming and kicking stuff. The door opened as I threw the compact mirror off my vanity, “What?!!”, I screamed. The twins stood there cautiously, “Up to talking yet?”, George asked. I bit my lip, drawing blood. “Hey hey, look at me. Y/n, look at me”, Fred got my attention, I stared into his brown eyes for a second. I cried walking over to him, hugging his chest. “Freddie” “It’s okay, Freddie gotcha. Shushh, it’s alright”, Fred petted my head and rubbed my back. Hot tears rushed out of my eyes onto Fred’s quidditch jumper, “I’m sorry, I got your jumper all wet”, I rubbed my sleeve under my nose. Fred grinned, “That’s the first time water has hit my chest all year” I scoffed, George grinned. “It was Cedric and Cho wasn’t it?”, Fred asked. “That was my breaking point, Freddie. He asked me to meet him after he put his name in the goblet today. I’m beginning to think I was too aggressive with him”, I said. “Why?”, George asked from the spot on my bed. “I kinda cussed him out and didn’t let him talk. Just amused he was apologizing for last spring”, I said sheepishly. “You wouldn’t let us beat him up so I think you cussing him out was good, love. Don’t worry about them, besides Charlie is coming this week”, George said.

#bill weasley x reader #bill weasley series #hp #bill weasley imagine

66 notes · View notes

runningtwiceasfast · 3 years

Text

I wrote a thing for the Harry and Ginny discord Incognito elf story exchange. I haven’t decided if I am going to publish it anywhere but thought I would post it here in the meantime. Thank you so much to @thedistantdusk for organizing. Hopefully someone enjoys!

All the Difference

“If you are going to lay around here all day then you can at least make yourself useful.”

Harry looked up sharply, having been jarred rather unceremoniously from where he had been staring at the door to the shop, as if he could will his girlfriend into existence.

He gave a scowl at George, tapping his fingers idly on the counter. “Why did she have to call an emergency quidditch practice anyway right during the first Hogsmeade visit of the term?” He mumbled mostly to himself. He hadn’t seen his girlfriend in months and the one time they finally were both free something inevitably had come up.

Ginny was a prolific and entertaining correspondent and she had been able to sneak into various fires for rendezvous with her boyfriend but he longed to see her in the flesh. Some alone time wouldn’t hurt either.

Harry stared moodily once again at the door.

George came to stand by him and they both stared silently in their vigil. Eventually George grew tired of Harry’s nonsense and gave him a hearty whack on the shoulder.

“Alright no more of this sad mooning. You are the boy who lived! The man who defeated Voldemort! Witch Weekly’s most charming smile or whatever,” George gave him a sidelong glance. “Although how they even managed to catch you smiling is beyond me. Tell me, do you think those smiles will run out and you’ve been saving them all for darling Gin-gin?”

Harry gave George what he hoped was a menacing look. “Fine, if you don’t want me mooning about your store then I will just leave. I’m sure Ron and Hermione won’t mind me showing up to their date,” Harry said sarcastically remembering Ron’s warning to stay far away from him and Hermione for the next hour. While he was happy for his mates it was slightly annoying to be third wheel to their fights and subsequent makeups which now included way more tongue than they used to.

“I thought having you around might draw in more customers. You know like…’come shop where the boy who lived shops, come buy puking pastilles where Harry Potter does’ but honestly mate, you are now scaring off the customers.”

Glancing around, Harry did notice that the shop was rather empty for a Hogsmeade weekend. Feeling even worse than before, Harry hopped off the stool and shrugged on his robes. “I’ll get out of your way,” he mumbled, resigning himself to heading back to his flat alone and maybe doing some paperwork.

“Not so fast Chosen One!” George called and Harry looked back around to where George was waving a finger at him. “Come back here.”

Not having anything else to do, Harry approached George cautiously, having seen too many first years turn into canaries to feel altogether secure in whatever shenanigans George had planned.

George produced a small vial from his pocket. The contents were a glittery pink and Harry frowned. “What is that? Something that will turn me into a turkey?”

Barking out a laugh George shook his head before turning thoughtful. “No, but now that you mention it that might be a good idea. We can call it, “Turkey Tonic.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “What do you want? Have you found something that will summon Ginny here from quidditch practice?” Harry whined.

“No loverboy but I do have the next best thing. It is a new thing I invented based on the Patented Daydream Charm.” George shook the vial and then produced it again with a flourish. “Harry Potter, meet the Patented ‘What If’ Charm.”

Harry took the small capsule and looked at it critically, eyebrows furrowed. “What if charm?”

“It lets you go back to a time in your life where you made a different decision, took a different path. It lets you see what life would be like if one thing was different.” George made a motion like a butterfly flapping its wings. “You know, like the butterfly effect or whatever.”

“So like, what if my parents didn’t die? What if Voldemort picked Neville as the chosen one?” Harry asked wryly. George scoffed.

“As if Neville would have been the chosen one. No nothing that big. But…what if Fred and I hadn’t left school the way we did? What if I wore a red shirt today instead of this spiffing purple one.”

Harry looked again at the small vial in his hand. “Ok what do you want me to do with this?”

“Don’t be daft. I want you to take it and tell me what you think.”

“But what would I even say?” He felt rather flummoxed. So much of his life had been dictated by other people, set on a certain path. Was there a mundane thing that had happened in his life that could have made a difference?

“Ok, well, what is one thing that you wish had been different other than you know…that whole Voldemort business.”

Harry thought back. What was one thing he wished had been different? Then it hit him. “I wish I had gotten close to Ginny earlier.” He said, remembering back to their conversation at Dumbledore’s funeral. How they could have had so much more time if he hadn’t been such a plonker.

George made a slight gagging noise. “Alright, well that is incredibly gross and all but I appreciate the sentiment. What about… if you had gotten your head out of your arse and taken Ginny to the Yule Ball?”

Harry scowled at the memory, of asking Cho, of taking Parvati. Of the disaster of a Yule Ball. “Alright fine, I would have had a better time at least.”

George clapped his hands together. “There you go! Now hurry up and take the charm and I’ll see you on the other side.”

Harry uncorked the vial, but before he raised it to his lips he sent George another look. “Wait a minute, who else has tested this? Should I be worried?”

“Young Harry I am offended. How could you think so little of me?” George placed a hand over his heart and gave him a wounded look that did nothing to make Harry feel assured.

“Alright well if anything happens to me I’m sending Ginny to beat you up,” he said before raising the vial at George. “Cheers.”

The liquid burned slightly going down Harry’s throat but the taste was pleasing. A hint of cherry. And then as sudden as he was in George’s shop he was in Hogwarts. He was much shorter, much skinner and he was feeling sad for some reason.

Oh yeah…Cho…Yule ball…tournament…

Completely forgetting about dinner, he walked slowly back up to Gryffindor Tower. Cho’s voice echoing in his ears with every step he took. “Cedric — Cedric Diggory.”

So consumed in his misery, he almost tripped over a windswept looking Ginny Weasley.

“Watch where you’re going Potter,” she laughed until she got a good look at him, the smile dying on her face. She gave him a frown, head cocked to the side. “Did something happen?”

Harry shook his head, knowing she was assuming it was something Voldemort related and not some typical teenage boy angst. “Nothing like that. I just asked Cho to the ball but she’s going with someone else.” He gave an awkward shrug, unsure of why he was even telling her this. Perhaps it was too raw and he needed to share it with a friendly face.

Ginny’s frown deepened. “I’m sorry Harry. I’m sure any other girl would be happy to go with you,” she said, blushing red and they both got quiet.

“Where are you coming from?” He asked her, taking in her appearance for the first time and noticing that she wasn’t in robes but instead in some sort of athletic wear.

She blushed again, placing a strand of hair behind her ear self-consciously. “I just went for a quick fly. Trying to sneak back into the common room now.”

Harry momentarily forgot his ball induced depression. “You fly?” He asked her incredulously. She had never participated in the Weasley family quidditch over the summer. Harry tried to think if he had ever seen her in the air.

She only smiled in response, something mischievous and proud in her eyes. “I’ve been stealing the twins’ brooms at night and teaching myself to fly for years.” Harry looked at her again as if for the first time. It shouldn’t be such a shock to him that she had grown. They all were older and changing and Ginny Weasley wasn’t an exception. She was still short, barely coming up to his shoulders. Her red hair came all the way down her back in waves and she was beginning to fill out and look more like…well, more like a girl.

“Are you going to the ball with anyone?” He blurted out. Her eyes widened in response and she was silent for awhile.

“I-I…no I’m not. I’m a third year so I can’t go unless someone older invites me,” she explained, her face now so red he could barely make out her freckles.

Harry let out a breath, well aware that if she turned him down he would have likely broken some world record of rejections in the shortest amount of time.

“Would you go with me? To the ball?” He cringed at the clarification. Ginny was speechless for a moment before opening and closing her mouth a couple times. Eventually she nodded.

“Yes Harry, that sounds nice,” she said hoarsely. Harry gave her a small smile before both their attentions were drawn to a loud commotion down the hall. Ginny seemed to notice the source of it immediately.

“Ron? Ron!” Ginny called out jarring Harry into action as well as they caught up with a dazed looking Ron.

Ron was pale, his freckles standing out like pocks on his blood drained skin. Harry was instantly alarmed. “What happened?” He asked, immediately thinking the worst. Ron just groaned in response and Ginny sent Harry a frantic look. The two of them shrugged off all the snickering onlookers and dragged him to the common room where they plopped him unceremoniously on a couch in a distant corner.

Ron kept shaking his head and moaning and it was a full three minutes before they were able to understand what happened.

“Oh Ron,” Ginny was clearly struggling to keep the smile off her face. “You didn’t.”

Ron had his face in his hands and continued to mutter “Why did I do it,” over and over again, the words muffled through his hands.

As Harry comforted his best mate he exchanged looks with Ginny and gave a sigh in relief. At least he had gotten a date to the ball. He watched as Ginny pushed an errant strand of hair away from her face as she patted her brother’s arm sympathetically. Perhaps he might even have a good time.

_____________________

Harry saw Ginny very little in the days leading up to the ball. The professors piled on the homework for the fourth years and Harry was determined to take advantage of the excitement leading up to Christmas. In between impromptu snowball fights and letters from Sirius he had almost forgotten about the egg and the fact that he would be dancing in front of not only the entire school but two other schools as well.

Professor McGonagall gave him this unhappy reminder at the end of the last transfiguration class of the year where she insisted on corralling the Gryffindor students that would be attending the ball into an empty classroom.

“You will be representing the great house of Godric Gryffindor as well as your school and I feel I must do my duty to make sure none of you embarrass me,” she sniffed, her eyes glancing over to the Weasley twins before landing on Harry. He swallowed roughly, the image of him falling rather spectacularly on his bum in front of everyone while in his dress robes flashing across his eyes.

McGonagall began to play some music, grabbing Ron in the process and forcing him to lead her about the room. Harry was thankful he wasn’t so caught up in his misery that he was unable to enjoy the spectacle.

“They make a rather fine couple don’t they?” A cheerful voice said behind him and he couldn’t resist smiling back at Ginny as her beaming face came into view.

“He isn’t completely embarrassing himself is he?” Harry mused, looking back to the makeshift dance floor where Ron and the professor were now moving in time with the music, Fred and George looking on and throwing conjured rose petals on them and clapping loudly.

“No more than he did when mum tried to teach him to dance,” Ginny said under her breath and Harry snorted, picturing young Ron waltzing with his mother in the Burrow. The laughter died in his throat as the scene in his mind turned quickly from Ron and his mum to Harry and his own mother, his father laughing as they spun each other in circles.

Perhaps sensing his change of mood, Ginny stayed close but said no more as they watched Ron take a turn about the room with their professor.

Christmas arrived rather suddenly and Harry, despite consistently receiving Christmas gifts since he had come to Hogwarts, was still rather surprised to find gifts at the foot of his bed. After dealing with Dobby and finishing opening up the rest of his gifts, it was suddenly time to get ready for the dance.

Ron, who was still trying in vain to find out who Hermione was going with, had tried to enlist Ginny who had vehemently refused.

“Ron if you ask me one more time who Hermione is going with I am going to hex you so bad you can’t use the toilet for a month,” Ginny had finally threatened and Ron had mostly ceased his fruitless task. Still, though, he grumbled when Hermione had left them three hours before the dance to get ready. Harry saw Ginny follow shortly and figured it was time for him to start getting ready as well.

Harry and Ron, who was taking Parvati, had agreed to meet their dates in the common room and eventually Harry was able to drag a very reluctant Ron to leave the dormitory. Harry had reassured him multiple times that his robes were fine and definitely did not look like a dress but he feared he hadn’t been very convincing.

Harry saw Parvati first in her robes of shocking pink. He watched her glance over at Ron, her eyes running over the frayed edges of his robes before taking the arm offered. It was then that Harry noticed Ginny.

She was standing a little behind them, staring at him a little shyly. Her robes were white and floated prettily around her and Harry thought rather irrationally of an angel. Her red hair was down, having been pinned half up with a golden barrette that Harry realized upon further notice was a little snitch. She had done something with her eyes to make them slightly bigger and Harry took a dry swallow.

He had thought by going with Ginny he wouldn’t have to have been nervous. They would have had a good time and enjoyed a laugh. But it must not have registered to him that Ginny was a girl and a pretty one at that.

Offering up his arm like he was supposed to, he felt her grip him lightly. Again he looked over at her as they followed Ron and Parvati out of the common room. It was then that he realized that he had yet to actually say anything to her. Cursing his stupidity he cleared his throat rather unsuccessfully.

“You—er—look nice,” he said awkwardly.

Ginny blushed. “Thank you Harry. You clean up rather nice as well.” She smiled at him and he felt himself inexplicably relax.

“Wait until you see Hermione,” Ginny whispered in his ear and Harry caught a whiff of something lovely and flowery and he wondered if it was possible a smell could make you drunk.

Shaking the thought out of his head he looked over at her curiously but she mimed zipping her lips with her free hand, her eyes sparkling mischievously.

The entrance hall was packed and they mindlessly followed Ron who was being led by Parvati to where her sister was standing with another Ravenclaw boy Harry didn’t know.

“Where is Hermione?” Ron asked, eyes darting over to Ginny as if she was going to attack him.

Ginny smoothed her dress and smiled. “Really Ron why are you so concerned?” Harry stifled a laugh in his own shoulder. They watched their fellow students milling around with some interest before Professor McGonagall called the Champions over. Harry sighed and reached again for Ginny.

“Good luck, mate,” he said before taking Ginny forward, letting the crowd part for them. They joined Fleur in her pretty silver robes and Roger Davies who Harry thought was perhaps looking a little dazed. Harry avoided looking at Cho and Cedric a little too well that he missed Ginny jabbing him in the ribs as he looked up at the girl who was with Krum. His jaw dropped.

It was Hermione.

Once Harry was over the shock of a Hermione who didn’t look like Hermione at all he felt tugged along by Ginny as she pulled him over to Hermione, chattering to her in fast paced squeals.

“Hi Harry!” Hermione finally greeted him and Professor McGonagall came over and told them all to get in line in pairs and to follow her. They then walked into the Great Hall to applause. Harry felt his face burn at the attention. A small squeeze on his arm centered him and he looked gratefully at Ginny who was gliding confidently next to him. She gave him a wink and he relaxed, able to make it to the head table without tripping over his feet.

“Ron looks like someone took his prize niffler,” Ginny whispered to Harry, drawing his attention more fully to her and not the gaping occupants of the Great Hall. Harry looked over to where his friend was staring at Hermione with narrowed eyes.

As they approached the table Harry felt Ginny tense and he realized that she wouldn’t be the only Weasley at the table. Instead of Mr. Crouch the fifth seat at the table was occupied by Percy who made it very clear to Harry that he had to sit next to him.

Percy’s smug face was replaced by a look of astonishment as he noticed who Harry’s date was.

“Ginny, what are you doing here?” He asked as they all sat down. Ginny frowned and Harry had to bite his tongue in order to not answer for her. She could handle her own brother. Still, Harry didn’t like the look Percy had on his face.

“Harry asked me,” she said simply. “What are you doing here?” She asked and Harry nodded, aware that this was the much better question.

The two of them endured Percy’s sycophantic monologue about Mr. Crouch and how he had been promoted. Harry barely resisted snorting into his water goblet when Ginny asked with a straight face whether Crouch had stopped calling him “Weatherby” yet.

They both tucked into their dinner eagerly, eavesdropping on the conversations of the other occupants of the table. Harry found that his sides were hurting from laughter mostly from Ginny’s impersonations of Roger Davies dazed look on his face as he listened to Fleur complain about the decorations.

“At ze Palace of Beauxbatons, we would never sit in chairs! We would be carried to eat on clouds made of silk and serenaded as we ate,” Ginny whispered in Harry’s ear, effecting Fleur’s accent in an exaggerated way that had him pushing away his plate of goulash.

Eventually they finished dinner and the Weird Sisters began playing. Ginny nudged Harry. “I think we are supposed to dance now,” she said somewhat shyly. Ginny stood up gracefully, holding out her hand for him. He managed to stand up without completely tripping over his robes, taking her smaller hand within his.

He followed her to the dance floor, eyes locked on her form, shutting out everything else. All of his senses felt dulled, the music a faint hum in the background, the spotlighting centering him blocking out everything else except Ginny. Seamlessly Ginny placed one of his hands on her waist, holding out his other hand in an approximation of what the other couple’s were doing.

Her hand was light in his but also strong. He worried for a second that his hand would be sweaty but Ginny didn’t seem to indicate there was anything particularly off with his hands. Instead, she gave him a reassuring smile as she steered him in a circle on the dance floor.

As they turned to the music Harry avoided catching anyone’s smirking eyes by staring at Ginny. He wasn’t sure he had ever really looked at her. She had a faint dusting of freckles on her face and full red lips that shimmered slightly. Her robes felt slippery in the hand on her waist and he gripped more thoroughly causing her to squeak slightly.

“You are a good dancer,” he told her, and even though they were in the middle of a giant crowd he had the fanciful thought that it was just them alone. She blushed.

“Thank you. Mum taught us at an early age.”

They were quiet the rest of the dance, Harry noticing that they were thankfully no longer the center of attention, the rest of the couples having joined them on the dance floor.

The song ended and they both let go of each other, standing in the dance floor staring at each other as another, faster song was struck up.

“Come on,” Ginny pulled at his arm to where Ron and Parvati were sitting, Ron shooting daggers at Krum with his eyes. Ginny took one look at her brother and grabbed his arms, pulling him up.

“Oy! Ginny what are you doing?” Ron asked, shoving off Ginny’s hands.

“You are looking entirely too much like a prat Ron! You have a lovely date, you’ve eaten a good meal. Let’s go out there and have fun! Look at Harry’s socks Ron. Those are socks that are meant for dancing.”

Harry laughed and watched as Ron reluctantly followed his younger sister to the dance floor. Harry offered his arm to Parvati and the four of them made their way over to where Fred and Angelina were dancing exuberantly in the center of the dance floor.

A few moments later Hermione and Viktor joined them, Ron avoiding Hermione but reluctantly letting Ginny pull hm along.

Eventually they stopped to get butterbeers. Parvati had been asked to dance by one of the boys from Beauxbatons and Hermione was still dancing with Viktor so it was just Ginny, Ron and Harry. They grabbed drinks, escaping outside to the warming charmed air. Ron was still put out and kept grumbling under his breath, the words “Hermione” and “Vicky” alternating coherency. The three of them sidestepped an angry looking Snape who seemed to be discussing something rather nasty with Karkaroff who looked anxious.

They reached a fountain, Harry now greatly entertained by the story Ginny was recounting that seemed to center on the twins having turned all of Ron’s Martin Miggs comics into more suggestive materials. Ron seemed more like himself at that point and they were all surprised to encounter Hagrid and Madame Maxime having a quiet conversation.

“It was my mother,” said Hagrid quietly. “She was one o’ the las’ ones in Britain….” Hagrid’s voice trailed off as Harry’s attention was drawn to Ginny who was swatting at a rather large beetle that had fallen on her arm.

“Yuck!” She hissed, swatting at it and giving it a little kick. “Creepy bugger.” She shuddered slightly and Harry had an irrational thought that he should offer her his cloak before realizing that he wasn’t wearing one.

They returned to the dance floor just as the Weird Sister’s began playing one of their more popular dancing songs. Ginny’s face lit up and Harry followed her to the center of the room, shrugging apologetically at Ron who had resumed his grouchy mumblings.

“I love this song!” Ginny called to him and he watched as she closed her eyes, moving her body to the beat, long since having abandoned her shoes. Her enthusiasm was contagious and he did his best to approximate her movements finding himself smiling widely wondering if this was fun, if this was what having fun felt like.

The song ended, a slower tempo one taking its place. Ginny made a motion to leave the dance floor but Harry pulled her to him.

“This was fun. Thank you for coming with me Ginny,” he told her sincerely. She gave him a wide smile.

“It was fun! Thank you for inviting me. It isn’t every day a girl gets invited to the biggest event of the season and with a champion no less,” she teased him.

The last song ended to a loud round of applause and everyone began heading back to the entrance hall. Ginny let out a sigh. “I’m not sure I’m ready for this night to end but I’m also exhausted. I’m hoping Colin was able to get some ice cream from the kitchens. He told me the first through third years were allowed to have some late snacks to make up for not being invited to the ball,” Ginny explained as they made their way out.

“What’s your favorite ice cream?” Harry asked, suddenly realizing that he didn’t know that much about the youngest Weasley. She gave him another one of her wide smiles, eyes flashing conspiratorially.

“Mint chip!” She told him happily. A part of his brain registered that for later. As if he knew there would be a moment when he would need to know what kind of ice cream Ginny liked. What her favorite color was, what she liked to do when she was bored and whether she preferred that first rain of spring or the first snow of winter.

Harry felt himself getting dizzy, a tug behind his navel making him slightly nauseous. The edges of his vision grew hazy and Ginny flashed in and out of view.

“Harry?” Ginny was asking….”Harry?”

“Harry!”

Harry jerked awake, the splash of cold water in his face an unwelcome jolt of icy reality. It took him a moment to realize he was not in the entrance hall of Hogwarts. Instead he was in George’s shop. He was no longer fourteen, no longer stumbling awkwardly behind his date, ready for Cedric to tell him about the egg…Ron’s fight with Hermione.

He shook his head, running a hand through his hair, reality seeping in.

“Sorry mate, you only get half an hour no matter how good the fake memory,” George gave him a hearty thump on the back and the visions of Ginny looking lovely on his arm, of laughing with her, taking the mickey on Ron were gradually replaced by those of Parvati sitting miserably next to him, Ron not talking to anyone…reality settling in.

“That’s some powerful magic, George,” Harry said finally. The ‘what if’ charm had indeed let him experience what life had been like when he was shy, awkward, Cho obsessed and completely unworthy of what life with Ginny would be. It had been nice to experience a Hogwarts with her but he smiled realizing that, while he may have messed it up before, he had gotten a second…well third really, chance.

Both George and Harry looked up as the bell to the store jingled and a windswept Ginny entered the store. For a moment Harry thought he was still under the influence of the charm and hallucinating.

“You shouldn’t be here…you told me you wouldn’t be here,” he said finally, stumbling over the words. Ginny gave a laugh, reaching out to give him a hug.

“I snuck away. Don’t tell the Head Girl,” she whispered into his ear and Harry was overwhelmed by the comforting smell of flowers.

“Seeing as she likely has her tongue down Ron’s throat I doubt she will care,” Harry said, pulling back so he could look at her fully.

The Ginny before him was no blushing third year. Still in Hogwarts robes but much more filled out and beautiful, looking at him with love and trust in his eyes. He felt that familiar warmth collect inside him as he gazed at her.

“Come on, let’s go get some ice cream,” he told her, waving goodbye to George and pulling her into his side.

“Ohhh you know I love ice cream,” she said brightly, snuggling into him.

“Mint chip?” He asked.

“Mint chip.”

#hinny fic #running fic #yule ball #what if

105 notes · View notes

operationcavill · 3 years

Text

Professionals - August Walker

August Walker is hired by Parker Industries to protect the companies most important assets; Mr. Stephen Parker himself and his workaholic, do-it-all executive assistant.

Y/N is ending her work day by clearing up yet another misunderstanding with a hotel security guard, “I think I need to have someone keep an eye on Mr. Walker, perhaps keep him in line.”

“No one can keep an eye on Walker, Y/N. He’s the best. That’s why you hired him.” The man on the other line laughs.

“I understand but if he is going to be a part of this team, he will have to learn to uphold a certain demeanor. There will be no threats to paparazzi, there will be no altercations unless there is some sort of threat to you, and there will certainly be absolutely back talk to anyone on this team. Walker was hired as head of security, he is not in charge.”

A voice comes from behind her, “And who’s in charge?”

Y/N swings her chair towards the door, bidding her boss goodbye on the phone, “Other than Mr. Parker, I am.”

August has landed himself in quite the situation. He was professional, always about the job, but with her he can’t help himself, he likes to play. “So, I’ll be reporting to you, right?”

“Yes, each evening I’ll send you a schedule and I expect your notes on security the following morning.” She hands him a laptop, “This is yours. Do not lose it. Luke is our best techie, he’ll set you all up this evening. He has blue hair, can’t miss him. Any questions?”

“To insure I cover everything at each location, I’ll need personal information about staff and most importantly, you and Mr. Parker”

“I can assure you, you have all you need in the files.”

"Medical, both physical and psychological?” He raises an eyebrow.

“You have full access to background checks, medical history, and emergency contacts.”

“Alright, I assume you’ll send out an itinerary?”

Y/N taps her finger on her phone, “Mhmm. Arrive no later than 8:30 AM, please. I will meet you and Mr. Parker here, then we’re off to the airport.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“Ok, Well, we’re all finished up,” She stands, throwing her bag over her shoulder, “See you tomorrow, Mr. Walker.”

He nods, “Tomorrow.”

August is professional. He’s very one track while on the job; if it does not pertain to the job, then it simply does not matter. Y/N, however, was quite the distraction. Yes, he is here for her protection, that is part of the job but her attitude, her constant emailing or note taking, and her fucking necklace she plays with all the time, were all things he couldn’t escape from.

He watches her tap her foot as she types away on her keyboard, periodically looking out of the jet window, “Does she ever take a break?”

Mr. Parker quietly laughs, “When there’s business to be done, she get’s it done. Y/N has been a busy bee since she was a little girl.”

“You’ve known her that long?”

Parker nearly chokes on his tea, “Mr. Walker, Y/N is my niece.”

He blinks slowly, “That is not in the files she gave me.”

“I’m not surprised. She doesn’t want people to think her career was handed to her. She refused any and all recommendations I wanted to send to schools or internships when she was just getting started, it drove us all mad. She’s stubborn and absolutely genius. You’ll get used to that stubbornness eventually.”

“Interesting.”

“Indeed, a pain in the ass, but she’s the best there is. If you need something done, you go to Y/N.”

August remained tight lipped for the rest of the flight. He barely says a word as they arrive at the Parker estate. Y/N greets every single maid, groundskeeper, and security member with a hug and a smile. She grew up here, no doubt another fact she kept out of her file. He watches her lead the staff into a room filled with paintings and books, perhaps a study, and address them casually.

“Now, I know Annie has said that you won’t be needed during this stay but you guys deserve an explanation,” She gives August a quick look before continuing, “Steve made a deal with a development team and it seems to have upset other companies.” She notices the confused looks and clears her throat, “Since that deal became public, we’ve been put in a position where Mr. Walker, is here to make sure everything is safe. I can’t keep you all here if there is any threat to your safety,” Y/N seems genuinely upset. He wonders if she’s always like this.

Annie, an older woman, sits down beside Y/N and pats her leg, “We know that, Gin Gin.” Gin Gin? Annie get’s up and walks toward August, “You keep our girl safe.”

His face softens as he looks at Y/N and back to Annie, “I can assure you, she’ll be ok.”

She stops for a moment before poking his arm, “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

He uncrosses his arms, and follows Annie, “Now, I have my own rules, Mr. Walker.” Before he can say anything she begins, “You will treat her will the upmost respect. You treat her like a lady, you hear me? I don’t care what tricks you have up your sleeve, I raised that girl and I will not have anyone, in anyway, hurt her feelings.”

He gives Annie a confused look, “I dont think you understand, Ma’am. I’m simply head of security.”

She rolls her eyes, no doubt where Y/N learned it, “I don’t care what your job is. I know that look.” Annie walks away and disappears into another room.

When he returns to the study, he sees that everyone has disbursed expect for a small boy. Contrary to his cold demeanor, he’s always had a soft spot with children, “Who are you?”

“I’m August. Who are you?” The little boy tilts his head and kicks his feet.

“August is when I start kindergarten. I’m Joey.” He has no idea where this child came from or who he belongs to but he didn’t just pop up out of nowhere.

“Who are you here with?” Joey smiles and hops of the couch and starts running.

He watches Joey run to Y/N and jump into her arms, “I see you’ve met my Joey.” She gives him a raspberry on his cheek and laughs with him but notices Augusts shock, “Calm down, He’s my brothers boy. His nanny brought him by so I could see him.” He simply nods, giving the boy a brief smile.

“Is he your boyfriend?” August’s face goes back to shock.

“No, he’s here to watch the house.”

“Oh,” He looks at August, “I don’t like your mustache.”

Y/n can’t help by laugh and without hesitation, August blurts out, “Well, I don’t like yours.”

Joey laughs, “I don’t have a mustache!”

“Are you sure?” Joey nods and August gets closer to him, “Then what’s that?”

“What?” Joey touches his face.

“That,” August pokes above his lip, “right there,” then he wiggles his finger fast on Joey’s mouth, making the little boy scream with laughter.

Y/N looks at him, not understanding how someone can be so cold to others but so warm to a child. She puts him down, “Come on, Joe. Let’s go find everyone.”

Joey turns back to and gives August’s legs a hug, “Bye, Mr. August.”

He pats Joey on the head, “See you later, Joey,” and he see’s Y/N smile at him for the first time, a genuine smile.

He waits until Joey has left to question Y/N on her reason for excluding her relation to Parker. He knocks on her door and is surprised to see her inches shorter. He was expecting to be eye to eye with her, not eye to, well, forehead. He lowers his head slightly, "Why didn’t you disclose your relationship to Parker?”

Y/N gestures him to come in, “It wasn’t necessary.”

“It is absolutely necessary. He’s your uncle.” He wants to correct her for rolling her eyes, but he quickly shakes the thought.

She puts things in a small briefcase and closes her computer, “Yes, but in this setting he is my employer.”

“Any other secret family members? Is the chauffeur your cousin?” August couldn’t help but be frustrated, and when he’s frustrated he become incredibly sarcastic.

“I’d like to remind you that everything you need to know is available in that handy dandy laptop I gave you.”

“I’m serious. I need to know about any relationships, past, present, good or bad.”

She crosses her arms, “I like to keep my personal life and my professional life as separate as I can.”

He rests his hands on the table and leans forward, “Listen, Gin Gin; I respect the fact that you’re a ball busting business woman, but you hired me to keep things quiet and safe. I’m here to protect you and your uncle, and that means I have to know personal details.”

“Do not call me that. I have no current relationships. You have the names of my brother, and my close friends.” Y/N uncrosses her arms and puts her hair in a pony tail. Not now August.

"Past relationships?”

“Why?” She glares at him.

He returns the glare, “It’s helpful.”

“That’s vague,” she fiddles with a stray hair that won’t stay in place.

“Are there any past relationships that could interfere with your uncle’s safety or the integrity of his business?” She’s silent for far too long, “ Hello, am I talking to the walls?”

Y/N bites her lip, and mumbles, “Jack Wayne.”

His eyebrows raise, knowing damn well what she said, “What’s that, now?”

“I said Jack Wayne,” He can’t comprehend her timidness around the name.

August sarcastically laughs as he clasps his hands together, “Wayne Pharmaceuticals, Jack Wayne?” She nods, “You don’t think the fact that you were involved with a rival company was important?”

“It was before the company made this deal.” She can feel his eyes on her, “I didn’t want to talk about it.”

Her eyes meet his and he looks angry, “It doesn’t matter if you don’t want to talk about it.”

She stands right in front of him and puts on her ‘business woman’ face, “You do not need to know or have the right to know every single aspect of my life.”

Now, it’s his turn to roll his eyes, “Any other billionaire CEOs you’ve been ‘involved’ with?”

Now she look looks angry, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means, have you slept with any other rival philanthropists?”

Y/N Scoffs, “Get out!”

Her voice raising doesn’t phase him, “Don’t shout at me.”

“Don’t insult me. Get out of my room, Walker.” She shoves him out the door.

He puts his foot in the doorway, “You’re a brat, you know that?”

Y/N rolls her eyes, “And you’re a dick! Move your foot.”

| Read Part 2 | Read Part 3 |

[Tagged: If you’d like to be tagged, just shoot me a message or ask!]

@igotkatiepowers @xxxkatxo @lunedelorient @heartfelt-pen @omgkatinka @viking-raider @summersong69 @hell1129-blog @lilzebub @mansaaay @henryobsessed @harrysthiccthighss @cavillshmavill

#my posts #text #henry cavill x you #august walker #august walker au #henry cavill au #henry cavill one shot #august walker x you

53 notes · View notes

demwhore · 4 years

Text

Hands to Myself (L.DH)

Pairing: Lee Donghyuck x Female Reader

highschool au

Description: You swore to yourself that you will stay devoted to the one and only Mark Lee, or not?

words ➙ 7k

genre ➙ romance, angst

warnings➙ profanities, fist fight, scenes of making-out, mark is a red flag

A/N ➙ for hyuck’s bday. I dedicate these to @jaextapose, this is the hyuck fic I promised you. @imoonstarstuff i hope you will love this! I apologize for some grammatical errors. Happy Reading!

Can't keep my hands to myself. No matter how hard I'm trying to.

Who is your crush? Mark Lee. Who do you love? Mark Lee. Who’s the one your heart is yearning for? Mark Lee. Who is your baby? Mark Lee. Whose name are you shouting in the corridors? Mark Lee. The reason why you’ve got detention, because you choose to watch him practice rather than attend your Biology Class? Mark Lee. Does he know you? Of course. Does he like you? Uhm, no. Does he love you? Now that is offensive, Fuck no.

Mark Lee knows about you, but for him, you were just a childhood friend and neighbor. But you were more than determined to snatch his neck and heart.

Tottering inside your room, you mumbled, “Ah!” you flicked a finger and your friend rolled her eyes, “Operation 101, steal Mark’s attention!” you said in a matter of a fact. You stood there, chin up high in confidence.

Krystal frowned, “Bitch, how? Mark is busy and doesn’t even spare everyone a glance, let alone you!” Krystal pressed. You acted as if you didn’t hear her reality slapping rants. In fact, you don’t give a shit. You just stared at your phone’s wallpaper dreamily, a satisfied sigh leaving your luscious lips, a live photo of Mark. To you, he wasn’t just Mark Lee, more like an angel who has a questionable love for watermelons. You reminded yourself to stop by the grocery and to give him a watermelon, as a bait for the incoming prom.

You gave her a grin, all your teeth showing, “If he rejects me, then I will pursue him,” you paused and plopped down your bed, Krystal following your figure.

“Again.”

Krystal shook her head in disbelief.

Legends say, If your crush doesn’t like you, then consider forcing them to like you back. And you strongly believe in Newton’s third law of motion, For every action, there is an equal reaction. A watermelon for Mark’s attention.

You transferred schools because of your father’s profession, one which included moving from one state to another. You were outgoing, so socializing in a new and unknown environment was easy for you. In a span of a short time, you’d quickly adapt to your surroundings. But as soon as your father would announce, you’ll be moving places, again, you’d have no choice but to start the socializing pace again. And you were never tired of doing it repeatedly. As you proclaim, you were a social butterfly.

But all your talkativeness crumpled and disappeared when your new neighbors was invited for dinner. The Lee’s entered your house, they were so kind and calm. Your family got along with the Lee’s in an instant. They had two sons, of which, one you love and one you hate. Across from your seat you saw him, Mark Lee. And there, from that moment, your tongue got tied, your parents even thought, you were sick. Because (Y/N) never shuts up and would find every opportunity to talk. But Mark Lee made you. It was a glamorous moment that you were gaping at Mark that night, but one would always spoil the moment, calling you out.

“You have drool over your table napkin.” You snapped out of your strance and glared at the boy beside Mark. Lee Donghyuck. He was a year younger than his older brother—he had a golden tone, his moles remind you of your favorite constellations, his lips are plump unlike Mark’s, and even though you hated to admit, he is handsome, very handsome.

You snapped, “Excuse me, I don’t drool.”

Donghyuck shrugged at you, “I certainly saw it with my two eyes.”

You settled down your fork, the utensil clinking down onto the mahogany table. You raised your voice, “I don’t.”

“Liars go to hell.”

“I--” You were stunned, your wide eyes staring back at his mischievous ones. He was smirking, and you really want to wipe off his face.

Hyuck shrugged, “See?”

You huffed. And were about to open your mouth to retort back, but your parents shushed you. The adults were amused to see the mini cat-fight between you and Donghyuck.

You mother mused, “Sweetie, that’s enough. You wouldn’t know, you and Donghyuck might be together in the future.” She gave you a grin while you fake-gagged.

You protested, “That’s impossible. Mom!”

They only laughed at your protests. They resumed eating and talked about business matters and other things. That night was memorable for you. You’d finally met your prince-charming and you were stealing glances at his way, but he was too engrossed that time, with the food in front of him. He had a laid back personality. You knew a little of Mark that night, as far as you could recall, the way his eyes sparkled at the sight of the watermelon. Your attention was just focused on Mark. But little did you know, Lee Donghyuck had his eyes set upon you, before you could even land your eyes on Mark.

I want you all to myself.

“Do you know where Mark is?”

You faced Jeno. You spent a whole hour searching for him, but Mark is just skilled at hide and seek. It is really tiring to search for his whereabouts. And the fact, you had to carry a watermelon with you? Tiring it is.

“Yeah. We had a dance practice, but he went out. Why are you searching for him, (Y/N)?” The tall boy inquired. His sharp eyes scrutinizing the watermelon in your arms. You blinked and bit down a grin. He knew about that grin of yours, and it shouts Mark Lee. He was about to open his mouth to speak again, but a sudden arrival stopped him from doing so.

You turned your body to meet him, “Hi (Y/N) baby, is that watermelon for me?” He blinked fast, staring at you while his lips plastered a charming smile. His tone is so sweet, but it never fazes you, “How sweet of you, let me carry that for you.” He tried to snatch the watermelon from you, but you swatted his hand. He gave you a toothy grin. You took a while to observe him—he grew a lot taller, towering over you. Handsome as always—but he never gives you those butterflies. Donghyuck was wearing a black shirt and grey sweatpants, giving justice to his long legs. His hair is dyed purple and it seriously complimented his good looks. You mentally slapped yourself, You came here for Mark, right?

“Keep dreaming, Donghyuck.” You rolled your eyes at him. And he dramatically clutched his chest, making a sad face. Jeno was controlling his laughter, he shook his head.

“I think Mark is outside, go on and check” Jeno gave you his signature eye smile. You beamed at him and rolled your eyes immediately as soon as you settled your eyes on Donghyuck. He only smirked, and you hated how his smirk gives you that questionable effect.

“I will be right back,” You paused. You unleash your confidence from the depths of your system. You raised your chin, you squealed excitingly, “And when I return, I will be having a prom date.” And you strolled away.

Jeno hissed under his breath, “Right, the prom is near,” He trailed then looked at the purple-haired boy beside him, “You got a date already?”

Before Hyuck could even answer, Jeno spoke again, Hyuck closed his mouth. “You have a large fanbase, I’m sure it wouldn’t be hard for you to ask for a prom date,”

Donghyuck opened his mouth to speak, but Jeno continued on, “They will be volunteering before you could even ask.”

Donghyuck licked his lips, while glaring at Jeno, “Can I speak?”

Jeno held his nape, grinning at the boy. “Go on.”

“Are you sure? I’m sure you have other things to say. I’m all ears, no interruption.” He said with all sarcasm, giving emphasis to the word ‘interruption’ and rolled his eyes. The other boy laughed at his sassiness. Jeno made a gesture, zippering his lips, and looked at Donghyuck expectantly.

“I already have a prom date.”

Jeno’s eyes widened, his lips forming an ‘o’, “Really? Who?”

Donghyuck chuckled, “The girl who carried a whole ass watermelon around the university.”

You're metaphorical gin and juice. So come on, give me a taste.

“Hi Mark--”

You were stunned when you saw Mark at the hallway. You immediately hid behind the tall lockers. His back is facing you. He had his right hand over his nape and in front of him was a girl— a higher year than you and no doubt, is gorgeous. You sealed your mouth shut, and waited behind the lockers. You hated to pry into other people’s businesses but this was something you couldn’t afford to ignore. It was Mark, for heaven’s sake, and you knew, curiosity would kill you if you choose to leave.

Mark stuttered, “I haven’t prepared a promposal or something,” He let out a breathy laugh. You started to get jealous of the girl he is talking to; Mark never laughed in front of you, let alone to talk to you for a long period of time. The one time he stayed long to talk to you was when he asked you of his parent’s whereabouts. “Do you wanna go to prom with me?”

You peeked. And you wished you hadn't. The girl smiled up at him, and nodded. Mark let out a contented sigh. He leaned in, and planted a loving kiss. You counted, five, ten and lost count. You stood there, aggravated. Being single since birth was hard, and now, you just have witnessed your first love make out with someone who is not you, in a vacant hallway. This is certainly the first time you’ve felt pain—heartbroken. You wanted to break free and scream at yourself for being so pitiful, crushing and gushing over a guy who obviously doesn’t like you.

Your subconscious is taking over you, there are red flags, yet you still insisted. Mark was a red flag, yet you still chose to dive in. Your vision blurred; tears were attempting to well out like waterfalls. You gulped, your chest tightening. You took a sharp intake of breath and let it out slowly, not making any noise. Your heart is beating rapidly. You tried to divert your attention away; looking at the poorly decorated bulletin board, the announcement posters, Donghyuck’s face that is staring back at you, anything but the two people savouring each other. You were about to return back to the gym when your sneakers squeak when you tried to pivot back. Your sketchers are not giving you a damn break. The two broke their kiss and looked at your frozen figure by the door.

Mark called out. “(Y/N)?”

Oh shit. You furiously wiped your face and patted your cheeks using your right hand. Patting left and right. You hissed when you felt the cold sensation from your fingers. Mark approached your figure, “How long have you been here?”

You faced him. And he blinked in surprise—your face was slightly flushed, your eyes are red; obviously from tears. “Oh, I just got here.” Lies, big girl full of lies.

Mark observed you. You were avoiding his gaze, a thing that you never did when you are in front of him, you were fidgeting, and it is something unfamiliar to him—he knew you were confident and doesn’t get fazed a lot even if you are in front of him (he certainly knows you have a thing for him), and you seemed like you were out of words; desperate even to find the right things to say, he knew you were talkative and take initiative like always. The (Y/N) facing him was a complete opposite of the girl he is used to seeing. He asked you cautiously, “What’s up?”

Your mind went haywire. If this was a regular day, no heartbreaks, not seeing Mark in the hallways kissing a girl that he really likes, not hearing him ask somebody to be his prom date—you would have died on the spot. Since this was a first; Mark took initiative to talk to you. You lied again, words stumbling out of your lips carelessly, “Oh, my mom bought plenty of watermelons and she asked me to give one to you so it wouldn’t go to waste.” You shoved him the watermelon. You never initiated eye contact, because you knew, if you would, you would break down in an instant. Mark’s eyes were so beautiful, mesmerizing even, you would even kill to look at those eyes, to drown into them, to dive into them because his eyes are similar to a book—it is mysterious yet captivating. But in that moment, all you wanted to do was to get the hell out of that hallway and to never look at those tantalizing eyes.

“I gotta go. Bye.” Your tone was cold. It was never the usual; full of enthusiasm and color. You were surprised at your behavior but this was your coping mechanism. Mark was about to say something but you pivoted away from your spot. You pulled the gym’s door, went inside and closed it. The door banging in front of Mark. The door rattling behind you. You snatched the attention of the boys inside the gym, including Donghyuck’s. He stared at you. You forced a smile and waved towards the members of the basketball team. They were oblivious but Donghyuck isn’t. You bit down your lip and walked fast to reach the other end of the gym. At this moment, you wanted to get out of the places Mark could be at. Donghyuck threw his towel towards Renjun and chased after your figure.

Of what it's like to be next to you

“Shorty.” Donghyuck called after you.

“Fuck off.” You spatted bitterly and ignored him once again. You walked past the students in the corridor, you wanted to go home and not to deal with the devil. Heartbreaks are better mended at home, specifically at your room eating sweet and salty foods simultaneously and watching horror movies. Several female students are gushing at the sight of Hyuck— his face, his flushed, sharp jawline, moles that are alive like constellations at night, the body-fitting attire he wore, disheveled violet locks. You made a quick turn, the exit door is already in sight. But Donghyuck had other plans and decided to jeopardize your attempt of sashaying away from school. He yanked your backpack causing you to miss a step and stumble. You were about to yell at him, but his chest crashed in front of you, making you knock out of air. He led you into the janitor’s closet. You took a sharp intake of breath, his scent overflowing your senses. It was a mixture of fresh cinnamon and Calvin Klein. It wasn’t a bad combination; it was rather addicting.

“If you are here to bully me Donghyuck, piss off. I’m not in the fucking mood.”

You squinted in the dark. The janitor’s closet is small. You could even feel Donghyuck’s breathing—it smelled of mint. You tried to focus but Donghyuck’s presence is clouding your system like a resident virus. He leaned in, and you panicked, internally. You didn’t know what to do, or what should you do—your lack of experience with boys are now taking a toll. First, ignoring a red flagged boy named, Mark Lee. Second, dealing with his brother, that you hated so much, he barely even let you breathe. Like the moment you were in.

“You owe me three.”

You furrowed your brows, “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Four.”

“What the fuck?”

“Five.”

“You’re seriously a headache Donghyuck. Let me breathe”

“If you say so.”

You were about to leave the crampy closet but Donghyuck’s arm encircled around your waist, securing it to place. He settled his hips so you couldn’t escape easily. He leaned down, once again. Your eyes bulged out, you felt feverish; your cheeks hot, and your pounding heart. You felt a tingling sensation in your stomach—butterflies. You couldn’t think straight. You felt a chilling sensation on your lips. It was soft, plump—and there you realized, Donghyuck leaned in for a kiss. You stayed there, frozen. He pressed his lips further, then breathed onto your lips. It lasted for seconds, it was five. Lee Donghyuck claimed your lips like it was his, for five seconds. Then, he broke the kiss. It was like an enchanting spell, it made you frozen, even dumb.

You acted first without thinking and smacked his chest as hard as you could. Tears coming out of your eyes, biting off your lips, you could even taste a tinge of your own blood.

You croaked out, “I hate you Lee Donghyuck! I told you to let me breathe,” Tears pooled out of your eyes, falling continuously over your cheeks, “Not to fucking steal my first kiss. It is reserved for Mark, you stupid!”

Mark Lee, again.

He shrugged, “You asked me to let you breathe, I did.”

You groaned. “Kissing doesn’t go that way!”

Donghyuck eyed you. And even in the poorly-lit closet, you knew he was giving you his signature, stinky look, as if you said the dumbest thing. “I am your first kiss, and stop acting like you know how these things work.”

“Why did you do that?”

“You cussed at me five times, and you deserve a punishment for that.”

You made a face, “You are so childish, Lee Donghyuck!”

“So are you.”

You huffed. Being frank, you are sure Donghyuck wouldn’t be letting you go, at this moment, especially when he saw you, on the edge of tears and breakdown.

“Tell me what happened.”

Lying to him is an inconvenience. You hated Donghyuck, but you needed someone to talk to, someone to lean on—and this wasn’t the time to be picky.

You tried to control your tears, “I decided to ask Mark to be my date. And It didn’t go well.”

“He rejected you?”

“No, he asked someone.” Tears fell down your cheeks.

“And?”

“I saw him making out in the hallway,” You choked back, “It hurts.”

He shook his head in disappointment, “You are making yourself a clown, (Y/N). You shouldn’t be initiating the first move, you idiot.” You cupped your cheeks, wiping away your tears.

You tried to defend yourself but Donghyuck cuts you off midway, “Shut up or I will kiss you.”

You sealed your mouth shut.

“Women should be treated like the way queens are treated. With respect, love, genuineness,” he tucked in a piece of hair behind your ear, “And you are a princess, you should be and deserve to be treated as one. You should never settle for less.”

You remained silent. Donghyuck continued.

“Just because you are head over heels to Mark means you should chase his wagging tail and do the things you shouldn’t be doing in the first place. Mark is my brother but he is a jerk,” he exhaled, “Do you know what could be the aftermath of your actions?”

You shook your head, no.

“Mark knew you like him. That’s a giveaway. You are doing things for him because you like him, don’t you? But it won’t apply like Newton’s law of motion, that with every action you do comes with an equal reaction in which you expect him to appreciate all the things you do for him and in return he will give you a chance? It doesn’t work that way, (Y/N). What would happen is, he would just make use of your vulnerability and use it for his own good, for his own benefit,” he paused, “He knew you would do everything for him without protest, and I won’t allow that. Never settle for less, (Y/N). There are other people out there that would love you for who the hell you are. People that would love you, for being, just you” And that is me. Donghyuck wanted to shout those statements in front of you. For you to snap out of your imagination. But he couldn’t do it because he knows, deep down, your heart is still yearning for Mark.

“Why are you saying all of these Donghyuck?”

“You deserved to be treated better, (Y/N). I am saying this for you to wake up. For you to know that you are being treated like shit and you should be aware of it. Being blind to love could be deadly.” And with that, he let go of your waist. He opened the closet and stepped out. You had a clear look of his face—it was unreadable. He offered his hand and you accepted it.

“I’m walking you to your next class.”

“I can walk, Donghyuck.”

“You don’t even know how to reciprocate kisses. I don’t trust you.”

“I hate you!”

You did a lot of firsts with Donghyuck. To be kissed, be shoved in a confined space, to be slapped out of your imagination. That was your first time being with Lee Donghyuck. And as much you hated to admit— you felt surreal.

Won't let one drop go to waste. You're metaphorical gin and juice

“Hyuck, we’ve been searching for you everywhere. Where have you been?”

Donghyuck marched over the gym. His eyes were glinting. His mind is not working properly—but he knew what to do; to kick Mark’s ass. He approached his brother and blew out a strike, right at his jaw.

“What the hell?”

For Donghyuck, when it comes to you, there's no honour, no code. All that matters to him is to punch every single jerk that took you for granted, even if it is his own brother. There was stillness on both sides. The other boys stood there, stunned. If hatred was visible in the air, the gymnasium would have been colored scarlet. Then, Donghyuck took another sudden movement. He attacked Mark with so much force in every punch. Each was powerful with hate and frustration. Donghyuck thought, what the hell did you see in his brother, for you to risk everything, including your dignity? Donghyuck rained blows onto Mark’s face as if he meant to smash him into the very earth for being such a jackass. Mark tackled the younger’s shirt and he took his momentum to blow a straight blow towards his gut. Frustration eating up the older boy’s system. Each didn't just want the other dead, they just wanted to smash, obliterate each other.

There was blood lingering on Donghyuck’s knuckles and a bruise on his right cheek. Mark’s was way worse. Donghyuck pays revenge like hell, and that is what Mark received. The boys tackled the brothers away from each other. Shouts resonated in the air.

Donghyuck hissed, “You son of a bitch!”

Blood pooled in Mark’s mouth. Donghyuck stumbled backward for a brief second to catch his breath before diving into Mark, his eyes narrowed in determination.

Jeno bellowed, “Donghyuck, enough!”

Mark’s mahogany brown eyes widened. He managed to slip out of Renjun’s grasp and slammed into Donghyuck’s. Stars burst Donghyuck’s vision but he shook it off, blinding, he threw a sloppy kick.

“Mark! Stop! Coach will seriously kick our asses!”

Mark stepped back, easily evading Donghyuck’s kick. "Is it one of your red days, huh?" He crowed, smirking infuriatingly towards his younger brother. Donghyuck growled and attempted to throw himself at his brother, but Jeno had a strong grip on his torso.

Blood hummed in Donghyuck’s veins as determination and anger took over.

“Did you know how heavy that watermelon is?”

Mark made a confused face, “What are you talking about?”

Donghyuck snickered, “Of course, you don’t care. Mind you, Mark,” He spatted his brother’s name with such contempt, “(Y/N) searched for you around the school to fucking find you, and she was even carrying a heavy watermelon for you, you inconsiderate little jerk! She has a scoliosis for fucking sake, and what did you do? Reject her?”

Mark was stunned. “She never mentioned anything to me nor asked me something.”

Donghyuck let out an exasperated laugh, “She was about to ask you for prom. Even got you a gift, your favorite watermelon. But what did you do?” He paused and glared at his brother.

“It was her fault for raising her hopes high.”

Donghyuck furrowed his brows. His brother is indeed a jerk.

“That doesn't give you the right to tear her apart, asshole!”

Mark protested, “What is done, is done already. Quit crying.”

“You inconsiderate cunt! Remember when you were passed out drunk and you had a paper due the next day? Yea, (Y/N) did your paper and saved your dumb ass. At least you could be kind and extend your gratitude towards her and not to dick out.”

Donghyuck marched out. Shoving out of Jeno’s grip.

He paused at the door, taking a glance behind his shoulders, “You’re seriously letting go of a gem, Mark. All of her efforts are going down to waste because you are a jackass.”

All of the downs and the uppers. Keep making love to each other.

“Where have you been, (Y/N)?”

You stared at the stressed-faced Krystal.

“Just there”

“Stop lying.”

You told her everything, starting from your failed attempt of asking out Mark for prom, the janitor’s closet with Donghyuck and what he said but you spared the kiss— that thing shouldn’t be disclosed.

“What Donghyuck said is what I have been telling you repeatedly, and this is the sign that you should just stop. This is all useless, look at you!” Her nostrils flared up, “Don’t settle for guys that screams bag news!”

“He’s not all that bad, Kystal!”

“Stop defending him (Y/N)! Wake up! He is not the guy for you.”

You challenged her, “Who’s the guy for me then?”

“Lee Donghyuck.”

You protested, “What? No!”

Krystal groaned, “Stop being so blind (Y/N). Hyuck has his thing for you and you were just so blind, you keep on ignoring the things he’s been doing for you.”

You furrowed your brows, “All he did was to bully me. He hates me the way I hate him. Period.”

“You’re unbelievable. He would literally go to school early just to escort you to your homeroom. Carry your bag because he is concerned for your back. Waits for you every class just so he knows where the hell you will go. Gives you origami roses. Tell me, is that what you are telling me? Hate? I don’t think so. He doesn’t hate you, (Y/N), there are other guys out there that would die to get your attention.”

“Krystal in the months I have spent here, no one dared to ask me out. Stop exaggerating things. And all Donghyuck does is to bully me, I don’t see the concern there.”

Krystal muttered under her breath. Donghyuck bullies you so you could give him your attention.

A knock interrupted the class. All your classmates scrambled and went back to their perspective places. But no professor entered the room. The president opened the door to see who was the visitor, and she looked at you, a playful smile plastering her lips.

Krystal grinned, “That’s Donghyuck.”

“(Y/N)?”

“Yes?”

“Mark is looking for you.”

And I'm trying, trying, I'm trying, trying

You blinked at the boy before you. He had cuts and bruises all over his face, his lips are busted, but he is still handsome. You tried to control yourself. He had made out with someone a while ago, and you saw it, clearly, with your two eyes. You hated him, don’t you?

You greeted awkwardly, “Hey Mark, what brought you here?”

“I just wanted to thank you for the watermelon.”

“Oh it’s nothing.”

“No, you had a back problem and I felt bad you had to go through searching for me all over the place.”

You fiddled with your school skirt, “It’s okay Mark. It’s nothing, and besides I have done things that are way out of my league. The watermelon was a piece of cake.” You really did things for Mark. Cheering for him every school game, despite the protests of Krystal that over-cheering could be bad for your throat, yet you still did. Stayed up late to create letters for him, all with exceeding characters and bullshits. Bought him a t-shirt from his favorite brand. Did his homework. Had detention for skipping out classes just to see him perform at the acoustic sessions club. He never recognized your efforts. He would, if he was forced or teased by his friends. And, you were still setting your hopes up.

“Did you come to ask me out for prom?”

You gulped hard. A blush crept to your cheeks. You avoided his eyes and nodded.

He spoke again, “I have already asked Natalie. But I can dance with you, is that okay?”

You tried to control the twitch of your lips. “Is it okay for you?”

Mark shrugged, “A dance won’t bite,” He gave you a smile, “Just wait for me on the dance floor by ten, and I will meet you there.”

You beamed at him. Your subconscious is yelling at you. You were heartbroken and hated Mark a while ago, but here you are, knees wobbling, falling for him, again. “Thank you Mark.”

Mark just raised his brows at you and left shortly.

You are trying to remove Mark out of your life when you saw him ask out someone. But, he had his spell casted upon you, and with a flicker of his fingers. Mark got you crushing on him again.

Can't keep my hands to myself

After a week, then it was prom. You couldn’t find Donghyuck’s trace— as his existence was wiped out with a flicker. You and Mark started to chat, and got you squealing every beep of your phone.

4:00 p.m | Mark Lee: what’s up?

4:01 p.m | (Y/N) (L/N): preparing for prom ^^ how about you? :D

4:20 p.m | Mark Lee: preparing too.

4:21 p.m | (Y/N) (L/N): Do you believe in love at first sight, Mark? <3333

4:26 p.m | Mark Lee: Yea.

4:27 p.m | (Y/N) (L/N): Should I walk by in front of you again? lololol xD <3

4:40 p.m | Seen by Mark Lee

You closed the app and re-opened then again. But Mark has left you on read. It’s always like this; he would talk to you and honestly, you experienced back pain from carrying the conversation. No pun intended. He talks so dry and takes a while to reply back. Sometimes, never replying at all.

You mumbled. “I mean he might be busy? Yes, that could be it.”

That was your mantra every time. You told Krystal about it over the phone and she was so mad, you could hear her yelling from the other line.

Krystal voiced out. “Those are red flags, who the hell would reply minutes late?”

“I mean, he could be doing something.”

“If a guy is interested in you, he won’t let you wait. Even abandon what the hell he would is doing. This is just showing that he isn’t interested at all!”

You pouted, “Stop being so mean.”

“He is not interested in chatting with you because he is talking to his girl, stop dreaming.”

You applied your gloss. “At least he talked to me. I’m happy though.”

Krystal rolled her eyes, “He is doing the bare minimum. Other guys could do better. Honestly, what is with you and your unexplainable attraction towards trashy guys a.k.a Mark Lee?”

You inhaled, “Stop being so harsh.”

“I’m telling the truth. And I am placing my bets, he won’t dance with you.”

You are accustomed to your best friend’s nagging. But couldn’t she just shut up and just support you with all you want to do?

You interjected. Hostility on your tone. “I’m tired of hearing you nag at me Krystal. Could you just let me be? Christ.”

Krystal clicked her tongue, “I warned you (Y/N). Don’t come up to me crying, because I never failed on reminding you that Mark Lee is trash.” And she dropped her phone.

You heaved a sigh. It seems like you will be attending prom alone, without a date, without your best friend.

I want it all, no, nothing else

The moment you entered the gymnasium. It was perfect. The interior, the design, everything was immaculate. You approached the assigned table and saw Krystal in her cerulean dress; it was made of tulle and lace, embroidery of blue flowers plastered the overall body of her gown and it had a sweetheart neckline, exposing her milky shoulders. You attempted to apologize at her, but she was giving you the cold shoulder.

“I am letting you do whatever you want, (Y/N). Go on, chase after Mark.”

“Look, I’m really sorry Krystal.” She didn’t answered you, instead she played games on her phone. Completely ignoring your existence. You frowned as you clutched your rose corsage. It was useless wearing the flower bracelet, this is much better to wear with a partner. IFourth year is coming to an end; and you really wished this could wrap up nicely as you wished. You looked around the dim gym looking for Mark, but he isn’t at sight. You opened the messenger app, clicking on Mark’s chat head, yet he was online three hours ago. You sighed again. You sat there in your prom dress, waiting for the clock to strike ten. The dance was important for you, it was your dream after all. And you were excited to spend your first dance with Mark.

Time is flowing slowly. The principal extended her gratitude towards the student government for being successful with the prom, speeches of the faculty in their matching gowns and suits, the president of the student body organization awarded the winners; prom king and queen, best dressed, darling and dutch of the night. Out of all the awards, you managed to snatch nothing. Donghyuck was awarded the prom king. He stood there like a prince. Wearing a slim fitted suit; maroon; with a patch of gold flowers adorning the sleeves. A red rose corsage sat on the suit pockets. He wore a black oxford shirt underneath; the first three buttons were unbuttoned giving a glimpse of his sun-kissed chest. A gold chain settled adorning his neck, tracing downward his chest. His violet looks were tamed, his hair was parted in the middle. He was given a sash, and he stood there, as if the awarding ceremony was so boring. He scrutinized the crowd, looking for a familiar figure. The reason why he attended prom, is he wanted to make sure you experience it the way you wanted it. Even if he isn’t included. Seeing you smile, is enough for him. He found your eyes, staring back at him. To Lee Donghyuck, you were so stunning, to him you were his prom queen.

I want it all, no, nothing else

The principal announced.

“This is the last dance. So grab your partner in the middle. No canoodling, I’m watching you.”

Ten o’ clock. Yet, you couldn’t still find Mark. You stood up from your seat, neglecting the sparkling drink served to you a while ago. Krystal’s eyes followed your figure. You stood in the middle of the dance floor. The lights were so dim; adding a cool and romantic ambiance. They played slow and sensual love songs. You stood there dumbfounded, couples are dancing; bodies close, lips connecting. You gulped hard, and continued to search for Mark’s figure. A tap from the shoulder caught your attention. You turned your body so fast, so missed a step, your stiletto clicking across the marbled tiled. Luckily, the person caught your body fast. You stared up, it was the prom king, standing tall, and overall glorious.

You forced a smile, “Prom King.”

“What are you doing here alone? You look like a joke.”

“I know.”

Donghyuck’s lips pressed into a thin line, “Mark?”

He knew by that solemn look on your eyes. He didn’t waited for your response, instead he pulled you away from the dance floor, and led you towards the corridor. At this moment, you lost hope. It was already ten thirty; and you spent thirty minutes standing and looking for Mark’s whereabouts. You are now giving up, your hopes that Mark would reciprocate your feelings is now disappearing. You wanted to cry; for liking a jerk, for acting like a fool, and spending your efforts to the wrong person. Krystal was right, you were just blind and deaf to understand.

Donghyuck held you by the shoulders. He leaned in to catch your eyes. “Do you really want to see Mark?” You nodded slowly.

He opened the room. It was classroom 402. There wasn’t anything fancy in the room. But you certainly saw Mark with Natalie, passionately kissing.

You tried to remain composed. You left the room and stood in the hallway. It felt as if heaven played games on you. You’d had enough. You nibbled on your lips, controlling the big waves of sadness from pouring. Donghyuck cupped your cheeks. And you couldn’t hold in anymore, you broke down, cried in your prom dress, soaking Donghyuck’s oxford shirt. He hugged your trembling figure, whispering, “Let it all out, baby.”

Donghyuck planted a kiss on the top of your head. Then, escorted you out of the hallway. He used to love the corridors, but he might as well hate going to it now. He saw the love of his life, cry in the place he used to love.

Oh, I, I want it all

By the time you and Donghyuck returned to the gym, the dance was over. Closing remarks were delivered and the prom is now going to an end. You hadn’t got to dance nor enjoyed the whole event. This will be your memorable prom; being stood up by Mark. Krystal approached your figure and glared immediately at Donghyuck. She hugged you.

“What is it this time Lee Donghyuck?”

“Woah, chill girly.”

“I swear, I will shave your head!”

You shushed her, “He did nothing wrong. Mark stood me up and I wouldn’t know if he didn’t show me.”

“Oh god. (Y/N), you don't deserve this.”

Donghyuck held you by the hips. And faced your best friend, “I’m escorting her home. She needs to rest.”

Krystal’s demeanor changed, hostility to calmness. She looked at you worriedly, “Rest, okay? Phone me whenever. I will listen.” You gave her a weak smile.

Your prom dress swayed behind as you took each careful stride. Your stilettos click after each step, and your feet are aching. The rose corsage is about to fall, but you couldn’t care more. Donghyuck escorted you to his Volvo P1800. It was a blaring red, vintage, sports car.

“I never allowed people to ride my baby.”

“Oh. I will start walking then, thanks for the escort.”

“Oh god.”

He yanked your arms and settled you to the passenger seat. He muttered under his breath, “You were lucky, I love you, otherwise I would be kicking you out.”

You gave him a tired glance. “You were saying something Hyuck?”

He settled his arms on the roof of his car and leaned in. You reclined on your seat and held your breath, his face is just centimeters away from you, “I am just muttering how stunning you are,” he trailed and looked at your figure, “in that sparkling dress of yours.”

He offered his hands and you looked at him puzzled. “You’re asking for something?”

He rolled his eyes, “Just give me your damn hand, (Y/N), why are you such a slow poke?”

You protested, “I haven’t been in this situation either! I don’t know what to do!” You gave him your hand and you were surprised that he planted a lingering kiss on your knuckles. His breath fanning your cold skin. You gulped hard. Butterflies crowding your stomach and a blush crept on your cheeks. Lee Donghyuck and his charms.

“God, you’re so beautiful.”

He stood up quickly and went for the driver’s seat. He started the engine and it roared to life, the radio hums quietly in the background, and the a/c of the car is set onto the lowest setting. His car zoomed along the familiar neighborhood. The night sky is as alive; the stars twinkling brightly at night, the moon is up there, bright and gorgeous. It was a calming ride, but Donghyuck made a quick turn. The road he is taking is now unfamiliar to you.

“Where are you taking me? Don’t do anything stupid Lee Donghyuck.”

“Trust me.”

It didn't take you both long. He parked his car. He turned on the headlights to the highest setting and twisted the radio to its loudest. Lany’s ILYSB played loudly on his stereos. He jumped out of his car and jogged to your side, opening the door. He knelt suddenly. “What are you doing?”

He leaned in. His lips grazing your ears. “Does your feet hurt?”

You raised your tone. “Kinda. Why?”

He flailed his right hand. “Raise your foot.”

“What for?”

“Stop protesting (Y/N). Is that hard to do? Or do I have to kiss you to shut up?”

“All right, chill.” You raised your right foot. And he removed the straps of your stiletto, one after another. You are now barefooted.

“What is this Donghyuck?”

Without your heels, Donghyuck is a foot taller than you. He grabbed your hands and pulled you towards the middle. His headlight shining towards both of you. It was blinding but all you could see was Donghyuck's grinning face. He pulled both of your arms and settled it over his shoulders. He started to sway according to the beat. He settled his hands on your hips. You followed his movement.

“I’ve been waiting for this to happen. To finally have you alone. To dance with you. To look at your pretty face without being scolded out for zoning out too much.”

“You don’t have to do this Donghyuck.”

“Forget about Mark. I beg you (Y/N).”

You breathed, “I will.”

“I will prove to you that I am worthy, (Y/N). Give me a chance.”

That caught you off guard, you almost missed a step. But Donghyuck led you to the right step. “I don’t want people to say that I am using you as a rebound.”

“You don’t have to care about what other people will say. We will take it slow. I will teach you to love yourself first, before you love other people. That’s important.”

Donghyuck danced with you for a good minute. And you were happy that you get to experience dancing with someone, even if it isn’t on the school’s dance floor. You applied lip gloss on your dried lips. Donghyuck watched you intently, eyeing the gloss and your lips.

“Can I have some?” You looked at him. You nodded and offered him your balm. He looked at you, bewildered, then let out a laugh. He held his face, hiding in his grin, “What did I do to deserve someone like you?”

“Huh?”

“I wasn’t asking for your balm. But alright.” Then he leaned in to capture your lips. Stealing your second kiss and having to taste your lip balm. It tasted like strawberries.

Please like and reblog. Thank you lovelies and take care! <3

#cznnet #lee donghyuck #haechan #nct 127 #nct haechan #nct fanfiction #nct fluff #nct angst #nct smut #nct 127 fanfic #nct dream #nct dream fanfic

349 notes · View notes

pinkhairedlily · 3 years

Text

Endless Seasons With You

Chapter 12 of The Spring He Came Back | 12 of 12

Hinamori’s eyes fluttered open at the arresting sound of her alarm clock. Her phone was also simultaneously ringing. How she came home she’ll never know, but she was still in her coordinated outfit and she was lying down in her room with the heater perfectly functioning. Her mouth was so dry and coarse like felt paper; it was as if the alcohol evaporated inside. Her last memory before she blacked out was….Hitsugaya, his hooded gaze, and his lips on her.

She reddened immediately at the recall. Her hands slapped her cheeks several times to get out of the trance. She was fairly certain it was a dream. Sharp pain shot through her temples, indicating the coming and going of migraines from an alcohol-induced night. Her eyes found the medicine bottle and the note under it on her side table.

For your hangover. Sorry I wasn’t able to say goodbye. – Shirou

What? Hinamori grabbed her still ringing phone and saw the caller ID.

“Finally you picked up!” Rukia’s voice greeted her a bit cheerier than last night.

“How come you don’t have a hangover?” Hinamori asked, still massaging her temples. “I feel like puking.”

“Oh but you were truly a sight last night, you know. We need you to spill all the details later,” Renji said over Rukia’s laughter.

“Don’t be late. We need to see them off on the train platform at 12 noon.” The two quickly hang up, saying they had some errands to do.

“12 noon?”

Hinamori rushed out from her room, towards Baba’s, and and to the guest room. He wasn’t here. His things weren’t here anymore.

“Momo? Are you looking for Toushirou?” Baba called out from the kitchen. “He slept at Dr. Byakuya’s house last night, but he went here this morning and delivered some medicine.”

Hinamori slumped to the floor in a puddle of hopelessness she last felt a decade ago. Did she misread everything again? Did she wear her heart on her sleeve so naively that it came back to bite her for the second time around?

Whatever happened last night wasn’t enough to warrant a reason for him to stay. This encounter on the platform was her last chance, and if it won’t work out, at least she’ll be able to let go of him with the knowledge that she told him her true feelings. She looked at the time on her phone and saw that she only had one hour left.

--------------------------

The train’s whistle sounded twice, indicating that it was nearing the departure time. Hinamori jumped off her bike, her farewell gift in her arms. Then again, just like ten years ago, the doors started closing when she was running towards the platform.

“Wait! Shirou!” She quickened her run, the flowers losing some of their petals in the process. She tried to look for silver hair at every cab, even just for a split second. Surely, she might still have this last chance. She wasn’t able to say her last proper goodbye. Why was fate so harsh on her?

Tears started to blur her vision, but in the last cab she finally caught glimpse of Urahara and Byakuya. She pounded on the train’s doors, hoping they would somehow pry open, but the train started to move. She still hasn’t found him. “No, no, no, no.”

It was the last whistle, the moment to leave. She ran just before the train rode the momentum, she ran like her life was on the line, she ran with the hope that maybe she could catch the rail and be swept away in its journey. But the wheels were so much faster than her legs, and she was just one step away from the end of the platform.

Maybe I should jump.

Before her feet could lunge at the space between the platform and the last cab, someone grabbed her waist and pulled her to safety, the bouquet of daffodils loosening from her grip and flying with the strong wind.

He was gone. The train has left the station. She stared at the open blue sky, dotted with the swirling petals of her yellow daffodils and the pink cherry blossoms. How dare you be a beautiful day when I just lost him.

She cried openly, like how she did when she lost her parents. What a pathetic life she has led so far. She got manipulated by a man she truly admired, she thought she lost her grandmother due to her negligence, she drove her best friend away from his hometown, and she lost the chance to make him stay. “I haven’t told you yet I like you, Toushirou. It’s so unfair.”

“You already told me last night, Momo.”

His scent wafted around her, arresting her senses in a sudden burst of realization. She turned around and saw that he supported her fall on the platform. There was a hitch in her throat when it dawned on her that he didn’t leave. She succumbed in his embrace on the ground, afraid that he would suddenly leave or take the next train. She hugged him a little bit more – never mind that people were looking, never mind that traffic patrol was calling them out on the radio, never mind that their friends were breaking out to cheers and yells.

He held her hand as they walked towards a quiet spot on the side of the station. “I wasn’t on that train. Why were you getting on there?”

“Are you gonna be on the next one?” Hinamori asked. She wasn’t in the clear yet.

“Of course not.”

“Then why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because you were drunk and you passed out. In the middle of drinking, no less.”

“You could have told me this the day you arrived.”

“Because I wasn’t sure if you would have me.” That pout seldom came on Hitsugaya’s face, but it did now in a random moment of insecurity.

Hinamori was suddenly pissed. She didn’t run across a train platform like a crazy lady for her sincerity to take jabs. “How much more should I prove to you that I would have you?”

“I know, I know. That’s why I stayed,” he reassured her. “You kissed me.”

It wasn’t a dream. They really did kiss last night. “And you kissed back.”

“Are you regretting it now?” He reached out to her other hand like a second nature. This hand holding was fast becoming a routine for both of them.

“Silly, don’t you dare regret staying behind too.” Hinamori sighed at the sight of yellow petals in the wind. “I brought you a bouquet as a farewell gift. They’re frost-resistant and they bloom all year round. I grew them myself.”

“See, I told you you’ll come up with that idea.” Hitsugaya let go of her hands and wrapped them around her waist. He pulled her closer so the wall can cover them from the prying eyes of the crowd. “I think I need to reward you with a kiss.”

His head lowered down on hers, and their lips found each other in a sweet, lingering way. “Would it be too fast if I asked you to go out with me?”

The whistle resounded again, this time signaling an arrival.

--------------------------

Five years later

The spring season was ending, but the daffodils in Hitsugaya’s arms were as fresh as the first bloom. In front of him was Baba in a wheelchair, still spritely as ever but her legs have given way to old age.

“Congratulations, Momo!”

The academy’s robes fit Hinamori like a second skin. Hers were maroon instead of the traditional blue for the undergraduates; she finished her bachelors and graduate studies in five years in a feat only she could have done by grit and hard work. Her thesis built upon her work on floral ecology and climate-resilient flowers which earned her several distinctions and publications. She has done all of these and still managed to keep her florist job afloat. Proud was an understatement.

She went to Hitsugaya and Baba after the pictorial, her arms enveloping them in a large, warm hug. The three Rs plus Gin also gave her bouquets and gift baskets.

“So where are we eating?” Urahara, Byakuya, and Unohana blended in the crowd in disguise, careful not to catch the attention of other faculty and students. The three became members of the academy board with Unohana passing the crown of chairpersonship to Byakuya.

“There’s a grand luncheon in our house,” Baba said. “It’s not my cooking, but they’re all my recipes.”

Hitsugaya hailed their service, a large van that can accommodate all of them. Long tables were set on the family grounds under the shade of the old camphor tree. Just like any other big day, announcements were bound to be made.

When Byakuya offered a wine glass to his sister, Rukia declined. “Isn’t it too early to be drinking?”

“I’m pretty sure you drank wine when it was still nine in the morning,” Byakuya said. Then he looked over to Renji and saw the nervous expression.

“Oh Byakuya, you’re gonna be an uncle!” Urahara patted him on the back, the latter choking on a morsel of food.

The couple got married last year during fall. It was Rukia’s wish to have a rustic-themed wedding in a barnyard, and Renji encouraged this. Hinamori was happy enough to curate the floral arrangements in warm muted red, orange, and yellow tones. Now they were bringing a baby into the world.

“Congratulations Rukia and Renji!”

“You should one-up me, Rangiku.” Rukia smiled at her friend, knowing what was up. The blonde took up Rukia’s offer. Rangiku’s hand showed her ring finger adorned with a silver band with a small turquoise in the middle. Having been engaged a few months ago, her wedding announcement with Gin was overdue.

“So we settled on a winter schedule,” Gin announced, kissing Rangiku on the cheek. Unamused expressions looked back at them, slightly disoriented at the date.

“It’s the busiest school season what with the orientations and the trainings and the school openings,” Byakuya protested.

“Oh come on, make time for me,” Rangiku whined.

“You’re not my sister,” Byakuya retorted.

“Fine. Rukia will still go anyway, and I doubt you’d leave your pregnant sister unattended.”

“Sly, Rangiku. No problems for me.” Urahara opened a new bottle of wine. “Any news from you two, Hitsugaya and Hinamori?”

Hinamori quizzically looked at her boyfriend of five years and wondered if she missed anything major. “Um, I graduated?” Hitsugaya weirdly avoided her eyes.

“That merits a cheer.” Unohana held up her wine glass and proudly beamed at Hinamori. “To Momo!”

--------------------------

Their guests left just before dusk settled down, ending the celebration with an exhilarating high. It was a tiring day, but it was mostly fulfilling. Just a series of accomplishments that have accumulated over the years; a series of interactions, of hellos and goodbyes, of hugs and quarrels, a series which made relationships, lasting memories, and great achievements.

After securing Baba’s bed and her medicine, Hinamori and Hitsugaya went to the back of the family compound for a quick reprieve from house chores. The rumors were quick to lash out with their living-in arrangement, but they honestly didn’t mind them, neither did Baba. The compound was too large, and they could easily sleep in different rooms and in different sections. Obviously, they didn’t because they spent a long time too far apart and any more distance would keep the other awake throughout the night. Cuddling was also a much more effective way to fall asleep.

The foothills and the vacant lot behind the compound were now filled with plots of different floral varieties. The dusk had a magical feel to it, the way the sun would transition into the soft glow of the moonlight, and the play of lights across the petals of the blooms. Half of the area was dedicated to daffodils, Hinamori’s memorial to their meadow of childhood and adolescent memories. Hitsugaya, having been granted by Baba’s blessing to own part of the compound, converted some rooms into his laboratory and office. More or less, they have started leaving imprints on this ancestral land.

HItsugaya had a plan – become the youngest tenured faculty, have watermelon contests during summer, and live out the rest of his days with the only family he knew – and his plan succeeded. He initially thought he strayed from that path and entertained the idea that maybe, perhaps, in some foreign countries, there was some other face he could come home to.

But Momo was home. He knew that before he left some fifteen years ago, when they left things unsaid and dealt with the repercussions of it within that decade. He knew that when he came back one spring season and saw how she built herself back up, when he realized he had a chance to turn his dream into a possibility. He knew that when he slept beside her and soft sighs escaped her lips as she snuggled closer. Momo was home.

They were indeed two separate journeys merging at the end of their respective successful conclusions, and he couldn’t be any happier.

“What are you smiling about?” Her hair was undone; it grew to a length reaching her waist, and he wanted nothing more than to slip his fingers in between those strands.

“Your hair and the moonlight,” Hitsugaya said. “I don’t want to one-up our friends earlier.”

“We’ve had conversations about this, but I’m not sure if I’d ever be ready.” She slid some straying locks behind her ear, blushing at the implication of his words.

Hitsugaya observed a little more. She said she wasn’t ready, but anxiety wasn’t in her body language. Maybe his timing was just right. “Looking back, it was quite a feat that I made you fell in love with me in one week.”

A light punch landed on his arm. “There’s that usual saying that absence makes the heart grow fonder, but I’d like to believe it was planted there before long.”

“The trysts in the secret room really did their job, huh?” He had an inkling about that too, and he was glad he did those little things because those little things soon became bigger pictures and the pictures became dreams.

Hinamori laughed at the memories, the sneaking in the early mornings, and the pitiful self she was before. “The most we did was sleep on each other’s laps.”

“Well, don’t you want to sit on my lap right now?” Hitsugaya asked.

“We did this before Shirou and I only got allergies,” she complained, but she slid closer to him and he enveloped her in a back hug.

“Here’s a crown for my pretty girl.” The daffodils were beautiful on her hair, and the stars slowly ascended on the night sky. “And here’s a ring for the love of my life.”

Hinamori didn’t say anything and for a second, he was afraid she would say no. His plan B was to hole up in his laboratory for a few weeks and then ask for an explanation from her, but he soon heard muffled sobs from her.

“I told you I’ll never be ready for this. I’m tearing up so much.”

“Momo, we talked about communication so I need a definite yes or no,” he said as he was wiping away her tears.

She turned to him and nodded happily. “I’ve had five spring seasons with you, and you might think I’m greedy but I want them all.”

Hitsugaya mouthed a silent yes and matched it with a fist pump before he could slide the ring on Hinamori’s finger, both of their hands trembling in happiness.

“I’m quite nervous,” he said to her. He wiped a stray tear from his eyes, not noticing that he started tearing up as well. “I guess I’ll be like weepy Renji on his wedding day, but I’ll be happy to spend endless seasons with you for the rest of my life.”

It was Hinamori’s turn to cup his face. “That makes the two of us.”

The two kissed under the moonlight, the yellow daffodils swaying to the gentle caress of the wind, their meadow of happiness never wilting.

A/N: Everyone, thank you for reading my work. It was a joy writing HitsuHina. I hope you found some bit of comfort in their stories, and I hope you are all safe and well. On to our next journey! :)

7 notes · View notes

kumeko · 3 years

Photo

A/N: For Suga, who wanted a Renobowl! I’m sorry this took so long, but I hope I added enough characters/potential romance routes to more than make up for it!

…

i. Cloud

It was a ridiculously stupid. Reno stood in the unfinished basement of the cruddy bar, Seven Minutes in Heaven or something. A table stood in the center of the room, multiple painstakingly handmade maps sprawled over it. The walls were covered with blinking lights and cameras that were more stylistic than functional.

This was the great AVALANCHE’s headquarters. This was where the renegade group of morons thwarted Shinra and somehow survived to tell the tale. This was where all of their slipshod improvised plans were made.

“This is a shitshow,” Reno muttered, leaning against the wall. How the fuck had they even once lost to these guys? It had to be luck or something equally silly. There was no fucking way it was anything else.

Even worse? He was joining this merry band of idiots.

Maybe he had hit his head back in the church.

“You can leave anytime you want to,” Barret growled, glaring at him over the map. The guy overprotective of everything, whether it was his daughter, the bar, or the people he worked with. It was entirely unlike Shinra’s hands-off management team. Reno almost missed the single-worded orders and lingering silence.

“Nah, I’m good.” Reno smirked, his lips curling back as he bared his sharp teeth. It had cowed the other, lesser members of the team, but Barret didn’t so much as flinch.

“You try anything funny, and you won’t have a choice,” he warned, before going back to his ‘plan’.

Reno snorted. Like he hadn’t already gotten that warning from AVALANCHE’s rabid dog. He could still feel the bar digging into his back from when Cloud had pushed him against it, his grip tight on his collar. Despite his constant claims of just being a mercenary for hire, there had been a rough concern in his voice as he’d growled If you betray us to Shinra…

Cloud’s sword was sharp, his hands strong, and it didn’t take much to imagine just what he’d do if Reno turned traitor.

Not that he’d planned to; he’d had enough being Shinra’s lapdog. Yet, even now he could feel Cloud’s hot breath on his face, his heart racing at the possibilities. If he had reached up to grab Cloud’s collar too, if he had closed the gap between them, what would have happened? How rough would it be?

Rude had always warned him he was self-destructive, and well, he wasn’t wrong. Across the dark room, Cloud regarded him with Mako-bright eyes and Reno could only lick his lips in anticipation.

ii. Tifa

“Oh great, another one to haul out. Why can’t they leave before they pass out?”

Blearily, Reno looked up from his empty glass. At the bottom was a drop or two of gin, and he pressed his lips against the rim as he tried to force them down.

“Oh, you’re awake.”

Remembering the voice, he looked up. Standing across the bar, a pretty brunette eyed him wryly as she pried his glass away from him. His hand instantly clenched, but it was too late, she’d slipped it out too fast. There was something about her build, about the muscles on her arm and the smooth way that she didn’t so much as walk as flowed across the floor that reminded him about something. It was like a fighter’s. Or a dancer’s. Both were common enough in this town.

“Youree hot,” he slurred, trying to reach over and take it back. He smirked at her; it worked about half the time, if he was lucky.

Unfortunately, he wasn’t lucky today. She sighed, rolling her eyes as she set the cup down behind her. Walking around the bar, she wrapped an arm around his waist and hoisted him up. Immediately, he corrected his previous guess. She was definitely a fighter. That strength was no dancer’s, all muscle and little finesse. He was certain she could toss him over his shoulders like a sack of potatoes.

“You should take me home,” he leered. No one could claim he knew when to quit.

She wrinkled her nose and rolled her eyes, clearly used to this sort of talk. Opening the door, she hauled him outdoors. As usual, the slums smelled like coal dust and shit, but her whiskey scent cut through it. He was half drunk on it. “You smell good.”

The bartender rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, where should I drop you off?”

“My place then?” You couldn’t claim Reno knew when to quit.

For his efforts, he was promptly deposited on the hard ground. Swiping her hands against each other as though to wipe off her germs, she firmly replied, “I’m sure you can make it back on your own.”

Reno chuckled, getting up on wobbly feet. “Tomorrow then?”

At her responding glare, he laughed the entire walk back.

iii. Barret

Reno couldn’t tell you why he’d decided to suddenly help AVALANCHE. It certainly wasn’t one of those good reasons, like pity or kindness. It certainly wasn’t self-preservation either—if he wanted to live, he should have stuck with Shinra. The man owned almost all of the city and had more than enough connections everywhere else to make life uncomfortable.

Then again, Reno had never claimed to be exceptionally smart. He’d always choked against every restraint put on him, always struggled underneath his former boss’s heel.

(He remembered Tseng’s cold voice as he accepted the sector drop, and maybe that twinge of guilt had been more than just a twinge.)

Either way, here he was lying on the roof of the building, the helicopter in pieces around him. Rude probably survived the crash, he survived everything, the dumb fuck, but he definitely wouldn’t be happy to see Reno after the stunt he pulled. Shinra had more than enough men to protect him, the ass.

This was a stupid idea. Which was probably why he didn’t even think when he crashed their helicopter on the pad instead of fighting Barret and his band of merry idiots. What a stupid idea. They’d only live for maybe a few minutes more.

He coughed and winced. That was a broken rib. Two, if he were unlucky, and Reno was always unlucky. He’d been born under a cursed star, after all.

“You friggin’ moron.” Reno barely had time to open his eyes before he saw a thick, black arm wrap around his waist, picking him up with an unexpected gentleness despite the rough voice. “What were you doing?”

“Saving your asses,” he croaked, laughing. Big mistake, his ribs definitely didn’t like that. Spitting blood on the ground, he smirked. “What’re you doing?”

Barret snorted, running down the stairs in a desperate attempt to escape. Escape what? Reno frowned, his head aching as he tried to remember. There had been a bomb—the building was set to explode and he’d warned them.

“We’re not gonna make it,” he mumbled. From the corner of his eye, he spotted Tifa and Cloud racing ahead, clearing the way.

“We’re going to friggin’ try.” Barret tightened his grip as he bounded down the stairs even faster now, taking them three steps at a time. “Can’t believe you did that.”

“And you’re carryin’ me.” Something about this struck him funny. He wasn’t sure if it was the concussion or if it had always been funny, but it was. He tried not to laugh. His ribs ached nonetheless.

“Tifa insisted.” Barret ground out, looking a little put out. “You saved us, sure, but it’s probably ploy.”

“I feel like a ploy,” Reno agreed. That made sense. He was certain that made sense.

“Yeah, you do.” Barret tried not to jostle him as he turned down another flight of stairs. The whole building was endless. No wonder Reno had taken the helicopter up. “But I guess she’s got a point. No one’s going to kill themselves just to get in.”

“I’m in?” Reno wasn’t sure how he felt about that. Queasy, though that might have been the concussion.

“I’m not letting you near us, but you get to live.” Barret glanced at him, the hardened face of a leader. “You’ve earned that much.”

“Have I?” he questioned, but his head jostled and he fell into the welcoming darkness.

iv. Sephiroth

There were many things Reno expected during his time with the Turks, but sitting in a helicopter across from SOLDIER’s greatest warrior hadn’t been high on the list. Considering the kind of wild card he was, he’d expected the brass to keep them as far apart as possible.

Maybe the higher ups liked flirting with danger too. The chopper’s blades were loud and it was hard to think, let alone talk. Reno glanced at the door, taking in the snowy mountains below. “Why’d anyone want to go to a nowhere like this?”

Sephiroth didn’t say anything, only coolly regarded him with bright, mako-infused eyes. Something sparked underneath his peaceful expression, some sort of violent storm that was just waiting to explode. Reno didn’t want to be anywhere near when it happened.

He also wanted to stand right in the middle of it all.

Rude had always called him a contradictory bitch.

“I can see them sending me over to this boring backwater town as a punishment, but you?” he raised a brow, egging him on. “Thought you’d be too big to come here.”

His silver hair almost hid his face as he leaned against the other door and silently took in their destination. Quietly, he replied, “You can stay on the helicopter when we arrive. You aren’t needed.”

“Huh?” Reno snorted, resisting the urge to yank on his long hair and force him to look at him. If there was one thing that grated on his nerves, it was being ignored. “What, you want to hog all the glory?”

“There’s two SOLDIERS.” His gold-flecked eyes met his, and Reno was certain now that he saw some spark of untameable emotion behind his glass exterior. “A Turk is useless.”

“I’ll show you useless.” He smiled wolfishly, all teeth. Sephiroth’s eyes narrowed, just a smidge, and he personally made it his goal to see just how long it’d take for the big man to lose control.

v. Aerith

“Oh, you poor dears,” Aerith murmured as she knelt in the single patch of sunlight in the slums. Reno had once wondered just what the odds were that it shone through the hole in her church, that it hit the only place flowers grew, and then remembered he’d hated numbers. “Don’t worry, I’m here.”

Hands in his pockets, Reno slowly made his way down the aisle to her, his footsteps echoing in the vast room. People might have come here once upon a time, but it was abandoned now, forgotten by all but a lone flower-girl. He glanced at the torn-up flowers at her feet, the over-turned dirt, and snorted. “This happens every time. You should just let them die.”

“Never.” She immediately rejected his suggestion just as she’d done the last nth number of times this had happened. “You could help, you know, instead of standing there.”

He shrugged. “They don’t pay me enough to watch you and help you.”

“You don’t have to watch, you can just help,” she replied sweetly, her innocent smile not quite masking her sharp eyes. The girl was a match waiting to light up. “I won’t tell.”

“Sure, and Shinra won’t have my head when he finds out.” Reno rolled his eyes. They had this conversation once a week. The company goons would come and get her (they also didn’t pay him enough to help them), she’d beat them up and flee, they’d make a mess of her garden, and she’d fix it up.

And then rinse and repeat.

It was boring. If he had to get stuck in this small-time slum with this small-time girl, then at least he should be properly entertained. “Why do you even care about those things?”

“They’re pretty,” she replied earnestly, her fingers digging in the dirt and righting a plant. “They’re resilient. And…”

“And?” Reno raised a brow.

“I like them.” She grinned as she lied. He was pretty sure that the reason his boss wanted her was in her last, silent response. “Do I really need another reason?”

“For this much work? Yeah.” Reno shrugged.

Aerith chuckled, tucking a lock behind her ear. “If you say so. But if you change your mind…”

“Not happening.” Reno snorted, sitting in a pew a couple of rows down. Crossing his arms on the bench in front of him, he rested his chin and watched as she went back to work.

He was starting to sit closer each time.

He didn’t want to think about what that meant.

vi. Tseng

“We’re balancing the scales,” Tseng ordered, his voice carefully neutral. It was always careful with this guy. The bastard liked to pretend he didn’t have feelings, that he was above all that. That the cold that came naturally to Shinra was also his own.

Reno knew better. He made the same lies, only he didn’t buy into them. “Yeah…not.”

“Do you really believe that?” Unfortunately, Rude bought Tseng’s act wholesale. A tragic flaw of his. As soft as he was, he needed some point to this, some reason for it all. There wasn’t. There never would be. And he’d never accept that. His hand clenched as he stared at Tseng.

Reno knew Tseng’s response before he even opened his mouth. Whatever the man might feel, he wouldn’t change his mind. “Does it matter?” Tseng raised a brow. Thatching his fingers, he regarded them coolly. His eyes lingered on Reno’s, as though he knew what would come next.

Maybe he did. They did the same song and dance every time this happened. “What questions? We do the thing.” Reno shrugged, sitting up now. He ran a hand through his hair. “Just like always.”

Rude looked at him sadly and sighed. “I’ll get ready.”

Disheartened, he left the conference room, glancing back at Tseng one last time like a kicked puppy. If tactics like that could work, they wouldn’t be in this business in the first place. Reno snorted. As the heavy door slowly closed shut with a soft thud, he finally turned to Tseng. “You’re a fucking liar.”

As usual, Tseng didn’t even bother to look up from his computer. His fingers ran quickly over the keys, tapping in an unknown code. Maybe if he did it enough, he could become one with the machine. “I didn’t lie.”

Reno laughed, slipping off the couch and stalked toward the desk. Tseng still didn’t look up and he growled.

Nothing got to him more than being ignored. “Every time you open that mouth,” he grabbed Tseng’s jaw, “You lie.”

He didn’t so much as flinch. His eyes were dark. “I’ve never lied.”

“Even that’s a lie,” Reno muttered.

Tseng turned off his monitor. “Don’t make a mess on my desk this time.”

“No promises.” It was all the warning Reno gave before he tugged Tseng closer and crashed his lips on his. There was nothing smooth or gentle about what they did—about the way Reno cleared the desk with a crash or Tseng pulled at his jacket, almost tearing it. This wasn’t a relationship, wasn’t anything more than just pent up emotions needing a release.

And if that release was something physical, almost always bruising, then all the better. Hell, if he left enough marks on Tseng’s perfectly clear skin, then perhaps he could pretend he’d actually protested what they’d done.

That he’d tried and quelled the ghosts that refused to leave him alone.

vii. Rude

“What if we flew away?” Rude asked, glancing at Reno as they flew the helicopter to Shinra’s building. There was a strange lit in his voice, one that took Reno several seconds to recognize as hope.

“Back to headquarters?” he asked, playing dumb. Maybe it’d be enough for Rude to back away like he always did, take the coward’s way out.

“No,” Rude shook his head. For once, he was being obstinate. “I mean…away.”

It was his fault. He’d never been one for pillow talk, and that was the reason that Rude insisted on ambushing him everywhere else with these types of conversations. Hell, they were half-way to destroying AVALANCHE, and the man wanted to talk about escaping Shinra. Reno snorted, shutting it down immediately. “Like that’s fucking happening.”

“But if it could?” Rude asked again, oddly insistent. His hands curled on the throttle as he eased the helicopter up. With his eyes hidden behind his sunglasses, it was hard to tell what he was thinking.

“Fine.” Sittng back in his seat, he rolled his eyes. “Let’s say Shinra doesn’t kill us or hunt us down. Where would we go?”

“One of those small towns on the outskirts?” Rude suggested, though he sounded like he’d thought this out for months. Maybe he had. Maybe if Reno had just pretended to listen and slept through it all when they were in bed, he wouldn’t have to deal with that now. “There’s dozens of those.”

“There’s a reason they’re small.” Reno scoffed, wrinkling his nose to the idea. He could barely handle them for a mission, let alone living in one. “What would we even do?”

Rude shrugged, trying to sound casual. “Farm?”

Reno snorted. “Can you imagine? Or maybe you could, but me? Do I look like a farmer?” He gestured at his body. Even on his best days, he knew exactly how scrawny he was. In all honesty, he’d always been a city boy; even the slums here were more interesting than some backwater town.

“There’s other things to do.” Rude flicked a switch and pressed a button. “It’s a small town, not the middle of nowhere.”

“Might as well be.” Reno watched as they got closer and closer to the tower. Any minute now, they’d have to jump out. Getting up, he glanced at Rude. “You good now?”

Something about him deflated as he nodded. “Yeah. I guess.”

Reno bit back a groan. This is why he shouldn’t have even encouraged him. What a pain the ass. Looking out the window, he grumbled, “We can talk about this tonight, fine?”

He could almost hear Rude smile. There was that annoying, hopeful sound again as he replied, “Yeah.”

#ff7 #reno #sephiroth #aerith gainsborough #cloud strife #tifa lockhart #tseng of the turks #barret wallace #rude #fanfic

13 notes · View notes

jjkfire · 5 years

Text

Obey

Reader x Taehyung // mafia!AU // 8k words

Summary: You’re the agency’s worst escort and yet the local mafia’s head of security still chooses you

Genre: Smut, Fluff (?)

A/N: how long has this been sitting in my drafts? too long. anyway, smut? who is she? i forgot.

Having to pay off loan sharks and save up for graduate school isn’t exactly easy. Your day job pays you good money but the interest on the illegal loan your estranged father left you with, compounds with each growing day. You knew coming back to your hometown had been a mistake but with your mother’s recent death, you didn’t know where else to go. Who knew that when you returned, you’d be slapped with a debt so big that you couldn’t even dream of paying it off? You haven’t seen your father since you were 4 but that didn’t stop the loan sharks. They needed their money back and you were his only available next of kin. You needed more money and you needed it quick. That’s why when your co-worker, Seokjin tells you of an opening at the local escort agency, you jump at the chance.

Seokjin is an angel, that much you’re convinced. He’s pulled so many strings just for you and you don’t think there’s any way you can ever repay his kindness. He pretty much runs the HR side of things for the escort agency and is the only reason why you’ve been allowed to get away with most of the nonsense that you do. In summary, you’re a horrible escort and Jin covers for you every time.

The local escort agency is a rather interesting organization. It serviced mainly the local mafia boys, providing the men with entertainment every time they stopped by the lounge. Whatever it was they were interested in doing for the night, be that gambling, karaoke or even just plain old drinking, the lounge was the place for that. All the newbies to the escort agency were often made to work most nights, servicing these men.

The job was simple. You were basically glorified arm candy. You would bring the boys their drinks, let them touch your butt a little or let them kiss your neck if they wanted to and then go home with a few extra hundred-dollar bills. Now just as all the other girls, clients could choose to call you up and rent you for a night. Yet, you’ve made it a whole year without that happening. Any other one of the escorts would be upset about that because everyone knows you get more money if you actually spent the night with someone. It’s a bit of a talent of yours, turning clients away from you without putting yourself in jeopardy but this time around, you seem to have run out of luck.

Tonight, you find yourself standing in line with 4 other girls, facing a double-sided mirror. It’s common practice for when someone high up in the mafia hierarchy was looking for a new plaything… or so you’ve been told. This is your first time ever being in this room. To put off the client, you chose an ill-fitting dress for the night. You hadn’t even bothered to put on make-up either. Your agency has long stopped trying to tell you what to do. Lord knows Jin has given up months ago. Anyway, you’re not sure why you’re even here. You rarely— or more accurately, never got selected from the binder because you had made it a mission to make yourself sound rather boring, unappealing even and you even made sure to be extremely honest about your lack of sexual prowess.

Yet, despite all of that, you were selected… and by Kim Taehyung no less. See, this time you were actually nervous. No one had seen you in this state before, actually trembling.

Last week

“Why was my profile even in the binder? Don’t you usually offer some sort of premium binder with only the best girls to clients as important as him?” You ask Jin as you pace up and down his office.

“We did but then he asked for the general binder. Said that he didn’t quite trust our taste.”

“Honestly, my profile shouldn’t even be in the binder anymore,” You groan.

Truth is, you shouldn’t even be an employee anymore but they needed pretty faces to entertain the boys. See, you wanted the money from being an escort but you weren’t quite sure about the sex part. The last boyfriend you had, had made sure you were painfully aware at how bad you were at pleasing men. So, you and Jin came up with the master plan to help you become an escort without really being one. Together you curated your profile, making sure that the men would skip right past your page when going through the binder of girls they could select from. It’s worked so far. You’ve fooled every single man that’s gone through the binder… except Taehyung of course.

Seokjin and every living, breathing soul had told you to keep your distance from him. See, Taehyung was the Head of Security for the local mafia. That meant he was the fixer. If there was a problem in any form, that being a situation or even a person, he would make the problem disappear. Easy, fast, quick. Taehyung embodied efficiency. They said he worked like a robot, pulling the trigger with absolutely no remorse. So, the word on the street was if you just so much as breathe wrongly in his presence, he could end you right there, right then. Around him, mistakes weren’t allowed and thus, you were told that if you ever got selected to be his regular, your life expectancy would sink like a rock.

You should’ve listened, you really should’ve. You should’ve found other ways to keep yourself busy but it’s not your fault that the girls didn’t give you a good enough description of him the first night you met him. They said tall and dangerous but to you, Taehyung seemed anything but dangerous.

There were girls aplenty that night you were working the lounge. You slipped away into the other room, knowing full well that you wouldn’t be missed. You arranged and rearranged the strawberries and assorted snacks on the many different plates. You twisted and turned all the alcohol bottles laid out and read their labels over and over just to pass time. You munched on the snacks, humming a tune as you looked out the window to see the town you call home. It’s not until you saw Taehyung in the reflection that you jumped in your spot, quickly swallowing what you had in your mouth before dusting your dress off any crumbs.

“C-can I get anything for you? Whiskey, maybe?” You asked with a smile despite the fact that you had been caught red-handed slacking on the job.

“A double shot gin and tonic would be nice,” He smiled and you got to work immediately. You were stirring the tall glass soon after, ready to lead him into the main room but he made himself comfortable on one of the couches behind you instead.

“It’s getting a little rowdy out there,” He laughed. “You know how Jimin gets when he’s having a good game of blackjack.”

You only nodded, laughing before you set down his drink in front of him. You stood awkwardly before him, unsure if you were meant to join him or return to the main room. As if sensing your unease, he called for you to take a seat.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you here before,” He hummed, stirring his drink. “Are you new?”

“Me? Oh, I’ve been here a few months already so not exactly new… but I’m Y/N,” You smiled, introducing yourself.

“Taehyung,” He grinned in return and he watched your eyes go wide, like you had a moment of realization. “Judging by your expression, you’ve heard of me?”

“Y-yeah… You’re the Head of Security. A very important man,” You laughed but he could sense the fear behind your laughter.

Though you were awkward at first, you quickly became comfortable. Taehyung was easy to be around, interesting to talk to and with every night you saw him, the two of you only grew closer. He would often find you in the back room, the same way he found you the first time, munching away on snacks meant for him and the boys. The two of you would be lost in your own world, talking about anything from conspiracy theories to sports to world politics and even local gossip. That’s not to say all the two of you ever did was talk. Sometimes he had his hand halfway up your skirt, your lips melding against his, moving at a set rhythm until you pull away, breathless, but aching for more. You guess you didn’t actually mind it. Taehyung was easy on the eyes, and that was an understatement. If anything it was sure as hell better than being fondled by some 50 year old guy. Maybe it also had to do with the fact that you were inexperienced, that this was the most action you’ve gotten since you broke up with your boyfriend more than 3 years ago. If anything, it was an ego boost. Who would say no to making out with someone like him? The answer is well… almost everybody, but contrary to what everyone said, Taehyung seemed harmless. In fact, he was rather sweet. Always taking his time with you, always respectful.

You believed it, you really did. You understood that Taehyung might be a ruffian at work but when it was just you and him, he was anything but. Jin had to sit you down and really knock some sense into you, detailing his crimes, reiterating stories he had heard. He was ruthless, a maniac. Someone who would slit your throat without hesitation. Jin said you and the other girls had to understand that if Taehyung picked any one of you, there was no room for anything but perfection. You knew among the 5 girls that he had chosen, you were the weakest link and for your sake, everyone prayed he wouldn’t choose you because if he did, it was game over. It wasn’t just your life at risk you see, it was everyone’s. If Taehyung was unhappy with the service, after dealing with you, the next to go would be Jin and given Taehyung’s reputation, everyone would follow suit. It won’t be you, you mumbled. He wasn’t stupid. The boys talk about the escorts among themselves. He must know that any of the other girls would be a much better choice. You were worrying for nothing, you smiled. It wasn’t going to be you, you were confident it wasn’t.

“Y/N,” Jin hears Taehyung say through his earpiece. With unsteady fingers, he points at you and Taehyung gives an affirmation.

When Jin grabs you by the hand, attempting to lead you out of the room, you hesitate. You were so sure you weren’t going to be chosen, not when you were standing next to what were the top stars of the agency. Panic rises within you because you’re not ready for this responsibility. You couldn’t have the fate of the agency resting in your hands.

“I have herpes!” You shout, lying, eyes roaming around the double-sided mirror, not knowing where exactly he was standing. “Tell him I have herpes,” You tell Jin who winces when you tug his arm with urgency.

“He says he doesn’t care,” Jin mumbles, tapping at his earpiece.

“W-wait— Taehy—”

You don’t get to finish your sentence because Jin is already dragging you out of the room. He wears an expression you’ve never seen before. It’s anger and fear, all mixed into one and when he pins you with his stare, you choose to look at your feet.

The elevator ride is silent, the doors opening with a ding when it reaches the top floor, the suite reserved for only the best clients. The last time you were in here was for a training session. You were taught how to work the room. Where to sit, what to do, how to entice the men. You struggle to remember most of it now, not when you’re thinking of how you were going to even survive tonight.

“Jin, please, you need to do something,” You whine, almost thrashing in your spot when you stop in front of the door. “Tell him something, tell him—”

“Stop making a scene! There’s nothing I can do now, do you understand?” Jin grumbles, shaking you. “Listen once you go into that room, I can’t really protect you anymore. You know what he’s capable of so, keep that pretty trap of yours shut.”

You simply nod, suddenly rendered mute by the warning. Before shutting the door on you, Jin flashes you a thumbs up, trying to look optimistic but you know more than anyone that he’s scared. In some way, he feels responsible for all of this and god, if anything happens to you, he’s not sure he can forgive himself. With shaky legs, you step further into the room, scanning the suite for a place to sit. Your eyes snap to the bed and you assume that’s where he would want you to be. It’s where you’ve been taught to sit anyway.

It isn’t long before you hear the door creak, Taehyung stepping into the room with a soft smile on his lips. He greets you and all you do is wave dumbly. God, you’re absolutely adorable. While unbuttoning his blazer, he realizes you look different tonight. The expression you wear mimics the one you had on the first time he met you. Fear. He could see it on every inch of your face.

“I uhh— I have herpes,” You mumble, again, as a last-ditch effort.

“I know you don’t,” Taehyung sighs, holding up a piece of paper that you know holds the results from the STD test that the agency made you go for just a few days ago.

“How are you so sure? The test results could be fabricated.”

“Oh your agency wouldn’t dare,” He laughs, placing his blazer on the back of a chair.

“Maybe I slept with someone last night,” You mumble, shuffling your feet. You mean to sound confident but it comes out sounding as anything but that.

“Yeah? And how was it then?” He asks as he removes his gun from his waistband, setting it down on the table. The sight makes Jin’s numerous warnings sound in your head again. This was no time to lie, no time to joke.

“Mustn’t have been that great if it’s taking you so long to answer,” He chuckles, noting your silence.

“I-I didn’t sleep with anyone last night,” You sigh, hands folding nervously in your lap.

Taehyung simply laughs before striding over to take a seat next to you. You’re nervous that much he can tell. You can’t even look him in the eye.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” He murmurs, and you gulp, forcing yourself to look at him just so you can nod.

At that, he smiles. He stands up and makes his way over to the ice bucket tucked in the corner of the room.

“Champagne?”

“Yes, please.”

That’s the only sentence you’ve said so far with absolute certainty.

He walks over, glass of champagne in one hand and plate of strawberries in another. You accept them both meekly. Twirling the glass of champagne in your hand while you munch on a strawberry.

You’re a nervous eater and drinker. You knocked back glasses of champagne and almost cleared the whole plate of strawberries on your own.

“I have a feeling you don’t do this very often,” Taehyung smiles, refilling your glass for what must’ve been the 5th time now.

“H-huh? Oh, um, sorry,” You mumble as you snap into action. You tug your dress a little lower by the cleavage before you move up on the bed. You move slow, Taehyung watching as you kick off your shoes. Taking your time, you lay on your side, shoulders rolled back so your chest was on display. Your other hand slides to rest on your hip, before it slides down lower, drawing his attention to what he wanted the most. With your champagne still in hand, you put on a sultry expression, one you’ve been coached to make. Your free hand reaches for a strawberry, stopping to lick your lips just after a bite.

Taehyung takes a seat on the bed, laughing as he shook his head. When he turns to look at you, he sees a frown on your face. You didn’t understand. You did everything they told you to do. He was supposed to be smirking, not laughing. Taehyung pats the spot next to him, beckoning you over to take a seat.

“It doesn’t suit you,” He hums, when you’re finally at his side. “The whole sexy act they teach you girls to put on.”

“But, I-I’m plenty sexy,” You pout. You knew you weren’t a bombshell like some of the other girls were but you had your… well, charm.

“You are, you are,” He grins, pulling you onto his lap with ease as he’s done many times before. “I never said you weren’t. I just think you’re sexier when you’re doing your own thing, not whatever they teach you,” He hums as he pulls you in closer, his chest now flush against your back.

“But the act is what you boys like,” You mumble, as he rests his chin on your shoulder. “You know, we flash some skin, sway our hips, wink a little and by then you’ll all be drooling already.”

Taehyung lets out a breathy laugh, one hand wrapped around your centre while the other reaches for his champagne glass. He simply clinks his glass against yours with a smile.

“I can’t deny that,” He sighs after setting aside both his glass and yours. “But you see I much prefer you like this. Disobedient and sassy.”

You can’t see his face but you can almost imagine the smirk he’s wearing right now. It’s the one he always flashes you when he’s busy ogling you. His fingers toy with the sleeves of your dress that sit awkwardly on your shoulder, slipping them off with practised ease, as if he does this all the time and you sit there in his lap, too afraid to move.

“T-Taehy—"

There’s a hum of approval that leaves his lips, when your dress pools at your waist, his fingers brushing the underside of your bra. He peppers your shoulder with kisses, moving along until he reached your neck, his lips moving slow, leaving marks that you are sure will show tomorrow. Your breath stutters, quiet moans leaving your lips as his hand moves up to wrap around your throat. It’s right and it’s wrong. You want to but you can’t and you mean to stay silent but you can’t help but say what’s been on your mind since he stepped into the room.

“I haven’t had sex in years,” You blurt out, your eyes shut tight as you feel his lips pull away, the grip around your neck now loose as his hand drops back to your waist.

“I don’t know if they lied on my profile but I genuinely haven’t done it in years,” You sigh, hands toying with the material of your dress. They must’ve lied on your profile. Otherwise, Taehyung would’ve never picked you. “And I know they give us ratings, in terms of how good we are in bed and—”

“They rated you a 1/10.”

“Really? Wh—wha— T-That’s mean. I think I’m at least a solid three,” You huff. Three was the arbitrary number you and Jin had decided on because you were bad, but you weren’t that bad. “Anyway, that’s not my point.”

“What is your point then, love?” He asks and you twist in his lap to look at him. His hold on you is still tender, hands softly sitting on your hips.

“There’s a girl we have, Mirae. She’s a 10/10. Everyone that’s been with her, loves her.”

“Yes, I’m familiar with her. She was in the final line-up,” Taehyung mumbles, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. What did she have to do with anything the two of you were doing right now?

“Exactly! You can just call them up, say you’re dissatisfied with me and ask for Mirae,” You smile. “They’ll send her right up.”

“But I’m not dissatisfied with you,” He frowns, utterly at a loss at why you would think so.

“O-okay, but she’s a guarantee 10/10 will blow your mind type of girl,” You mumble.

Your gaze is fixed somewhere else, as if you were too afraid to look him in the eye. It’s odd. You seemed to have had no problems being in his presence all the weeks prior to this. Maybe he was just so caught up in his own emotions to realize that you wanted none of this. Though, he’s sure that’s not the case. Most of the times he had you in his lap in the lounge, you’d be moaning into his mouth as you kissed him back as fervently as he did. You’d drive him crazy, grinding down on him as if you wanted more, moaning sinful things into his ears.

“Do I make you feel uncomfortable?”

“No… no, not at all.”

“So then do I scare you?”

“Not exactly,” You murmur, fingers pinching at your dress. “It’s just… you’re an important guy a-and we strive to impress. I also can’t afford to lose this job,” You mumble, eyes downcast.

“So you think you’re going to lose this job if I’m not impressed?”

“It’s a possibility, yes.”

“I’ll tell them you were a 10/10 mind blowing experience even if you were atrocious if that’s what you’re worried about.”

You look up at him with wide eyes, as if hope was gleaming in them and at that he could only smile. My god, you had him wrapped around your finger and you didn’t even know it.

“A-and you can’t take it out on anyone at the agency,” You mumble.

“You have my word, love,” He grins, nodding. “And I am always a man of my word.”

See, he’s anything but dangerous. You didn’t understand why everyone sees him as some type of monster.

“So,” He hums, twisting you back into your original spot, his chest pressed against your back once more. “Now back to business. You said you haven’t had sex in years? Is that why you’re always dripping even when all we’ve been doing is kissing?”

“I-I do not know what you’re talking about.”

Taehyung laughs, lips tucked between his teeth when you attempt to shrink away.

“There’s no need to be shy about it,” He smiles, hands moving down towards your thigh. His fingers massage your inner thighs, slowly making its way up. They creep higher and higher and you whimper, especially so when he lets out a breathy laugh. “So, you decided to skip the panties today,” He notes when he finds nothing but your smooth skin. His fingers move through your folds, making you squirm in his hold. “And here I was, thinking you didn’t want any of this.”

“I… I ran out of time,” You mumble. “Couldn’t find a clean pair.”

Taehyung snorts, shaking his head. You surely are an interesting character.

“I’m not complaining,” He smirks. “It just makes my job easier.”

Taehyung surely takes his time, his fingers moving at a glacial pace as his lips continue their work on your neck. You want to tell him to speed it up, to do something because you needed your 3-year drought to come to an end.

“You have something to say?” He questions as you continue to whine and fidget.

“I want more,” You murmur.

“More? More what, love?”

You know he’s just teasing. He knows what you want. How could he possibly not.

“Tell me, what do you want? Is it my fingers in your pussy?” He smirks, plunging two of them into you without any warning whatsoever and you moan, your eyebrows knit together at the sensation. “Or do you want me to touch you here? Work this until you’re sore and begging me to stop?” He queries, his thumb beginning to rub your clit in tight circles. You screw your eyes shut at the feeling, your hand fisting the sheets by your side as you spread your legs wider. God, it’s been too long, you think to yourself. This could hardly compare to your nightly routine of rubbing one out yourself under the blanket. The way his fingers stretch you when he curls them upwards makes you feel delirious and all you can do is mumble his name over and over. His thumb rubs tighter, faster circles against your bundle of nerves and you bite down on your lip to muffle the choked noises that threaten to spill out of your mouth.

“Look at you, you’re making such a mess,” He murmurs into your ear. The way his lips ghosts the shell of your ear makes a shiver run through you. His lips slowly moves down to leave marks on your neck, his tongue laving across the spots he’s decorated your skin with. “You’re dripping all over. Is it because you haven’t been touched in a while or because you’ve never been touched like this at all?”

You can’t answer, not when he’s doing all of that. Your mouth hangs open, almost as if you’re trying to answer him but all that leaves your throat are soft moans. Taehyung only laughs, his free hand moving to unbuckle your bra, fingers pinching your nipples when you finally help him rid yourself of the bra.

“Answer me, love,” He grins, teasing your nipple again, the act eliciting yet another moan out of you. “Has anyone else made you feel like this?”

“N-no,” You manage to say. “M-my ex wasn’t into anything other than doing it in the doggy position.”

“That’s a shame,” He sighs. “He never got to see you like this, moaning and whimpering, all desperate for more,” He hums, his hand abandoning your chest to move up to your throat, squeezing it lightly.

“I’m gonna cum,” You choke out as you begin to see white behind your eyelids, your legs trembling as he picks up the pace, his fingers pumping in and out of you with fervour.

“Not yet, love. You only cum when I say so.”

“I c-cant—”

“Ah, but you will,” He mumbles, adding a third finger, making you let out a choked sob. He wears an evil smirk as he teases your breast with his hand, his fingers moving to pinch your nipple harshly. You let out a whimper, your head lolling back as you try to ignore the tension in the pit of your stomach that threatens to snap.

“Please, please Taehyung, I—" Your sentence is cut short by a moan because he presses against your clit harder, rubbing figure eights at a pace that almost makes you go limp. You can feel your control begin to slip, your legs trembling as the pressure building in your abdomen finally snaps and you see nothing but hot white behind your eyelids. You’re panting, grinding down onto Taehyung’s lap as a slew of cuss words escape you. The man is relentless, his digits curling into your walls, his thumb still continuing on at its furious pace as you climb down from your high.

“I guess you’re not very good at following orders,” Taehyung sighs, clicking his tongue as he finally stops, pulling his hand away from your sopping pussy. He brings his hand up to your mouth, forcing you to lick clean your juices off his fingers and you do, tongue moving across them as you suck. “Dirty girl,” He smirks, pulling his digits out of your mouth before he grabs you by the waist, twisting you in his lap so you were facing him again.

“So what shall we do with you, hmm?” He prompts, his hold tender but his gaze otherwise. “I don’t take too kindly to disobedient sluts,” He huffs, removing his hold on you to loosen the tie he’s been wearing. You gulp, almost trembling because you couldn’t quite tell what he was going to do next. With the tie still in his hands, he reaches over to lift you up off his lap, urging to make yourself at home higher up the bed. He smirks, eyeing you in all your glory and with a single finger he points at your dress still pooled at your waist. You nod in understanding, discarding it without him having to say a single word. There was no more room for mistakes.

“This time when I say you only cum when I say so, I hope you listen,” He exhales as he stands up to unbuckle his pants. “Unless of course, you wish to be punished,” He smiles, devilishly so, as he unbuttons his shirt, tossing the tie onto the bed.

“N-no, I don’t,” You mumble, stuttering, unsure exactly what kind of punishment he meant. Did he mean punishment as in he would put a bullet in your skull or punishment as in a light spank on the ass? Though the latter sounds tempting, you’re not willing to find out just what he has in store for you in case of your disobedience. “I’ll be good,” You murmur, hypnotized when he rids himself of his pants and boxers, his cock slapping against his stomach.

“Will you?” He hums, hands wrapped around his member, groaning as he pumps himself a few times, precum leaking out of the tip. You watch, mesmerized, almost drooling as he pads over closer to you. “But you know, I can’t help but think I’m being too easy on you.”

You freeze in your spot, unsure of what to do next. Luckily for you, Taehyung does all the work. With his back sinking into the pillows, he pulls you onto his lap again but this time you’re facing him.

“See, this isn’t the first time. You’re always defiant, sassy, and I can’t count the number of times I’ve wanted to fuck you stupid when we were in the lounge just so you could understand who you were dealing with,” He hums, rubbing the head of his cock against your folds. You shiver, biting your lip as you could feel it just mere centimetres away from where you wanted it to be.

“Then do it,” You tease, hand slipping down to guide his length to your entrance because if he was going to leave you waiting for so long, he obviously needed help. Taehyung only laughs at that, slapping your hand away. He guides you onto your back, pinning your hands above your head as he leaves kisses down the valley of your breasts, only stopping because he can hear you release a shaky exhale.

“Oh, I will,” He smirks, pulling away to line up his cock to your pussy. He starts slow, teasing you as he rubs his cock against your core, groaning as your juices coated his length. You whine, about to demand him to do something but before you can say anything, he plunges into you, thrusting upwards in one swift motion, giving you no time to adjust to his size. You gasp, mouth hanging open as you let out a choked sob. “Baby, I’ll fuck you so good, so hard but only if you promise to listen.”

“I-I will,” You whimper, soft moans filling up the room as he rocks against you slowly.

“Good,” He mumbles before his tongue envelops one of your nipples. “Now keep your hands there. No touching until I say so.”

You only nod in response, barely able to hear him as your mind goes blank, his cock brushing against the spot that made your toes curl. Your body felt like it was on fire, his touch making you keen against him, his lips making your mind grow hazy.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” He groans, eyes screwed shut as he delivers on his promise, thrusting into you so hard that you could almost feel him in your throat. He lifts your legs up over his shoulder and god, you didn’t think he could make you feel any better but as he buries his cock into you to the hilt, you can only moan in return. Taehyung whines, meeting your tongue in a sloppy kiss, lips moving against yours with fervour. It takes everything in you to not reach out to tug at his hair, to pull him closer. You needed him, wanted him.

“Tae, I-I want—” You manage to choke out between kisses but he silences you with his lips.

“More?” He asks, laughing breathily as he pulls out halfway before he slams back into you. Your eyes roll back as he does it a few more times, rendering you silent apart from the long moans that leave you without your consent. “You’re a greedy little slut, aren’t you?”

“Tae,” You murmur, your walls clenching around him as he thrusts deeper, harder.

“Don’t do that, baby. Not yet,” He warns, slipping a thumb into your mouth. You nod, tongue wrapping around it as you suck. Fuck, you were driving him insane. His other hand holds onto your waist with a grip so tight you’re sure it’ll bruise tomorrow. You could care less, especially when he was making you feel this good. You could already feel it, the coil in your stomach being held together solely by your will threatening to release, your muscles tightening and Taehyung warns you once more when you clench around him yet another time.

“Be good,” He grumbles, his grip on your waist tightening and you wail, nodding as you focus on keeping yourself together. You lace your hands through his hair, finding purchase on whatever you can, as if doing any of that could help you from falling apart.

“What did I say about touching?” Taehyung growls, as he pulls away from you, your pussy clenching at the sudden emptiness. Your eyes snap open, eyebrows tucked together in worry as Taehyung sighs, reaching for his tie at the end of the bed.

“S-sorry, I was just trying to—”

Taehyung isn’t interested in your excuses. He flips you over, almost as if you weighed nothing, quickly pinning your hands behind your back.

“Since you have trouble listening, let me help you,” He mumbles, using his necktie to tie your hands together, the soft silk digging into your wrists as he double knots it. He huffs, lifting you by the waist so you were now on your knees, the side of your face still pressed to the mattress. “I knew I was being too easy on you,” He mumbles, hand splayed over your ass that was now on show for him. Without warning, he brings his hand down harshly onto the flesh of your ass, making you tuck your lips between your teeth, partially muffling your moan.

“So, are you going to behave now?”

“Yes!” You cry, nodding into the sheets.

“No more chances,” Taehyung mumbles. “Next time you disobey me, I’m going to leave you high and dry, begging me to make you cum.”

You don’t even have the chance to say anything because Taehyung wastes no time, hand around your neck as his cock pushes past your folds, filling you up once again.

“Fuuuck,” You moan as he thrusts into you, his fat cock stretching you out deliciously. You clench your fists, wrists struggling against his necktie because all you wanted right now was to tug at his hair or dig your nails into his skin. God, he was driving you insane.

His hand around your neck isn’t there to choke you but more so he could find leverage to slam into you harder. You whimper and whine, legs threatening to give way with every time he thrusts into you.

“You don’t know how long I’ve thought about you like this,” He groans. “All pretty and obedient for me, moaning my name. So fucking good for me.”

The latter part of his sentence is punctuated by his thrusts, his arm wrapped around your centre helps hold you up as your thighs turn to jelly. His rhythm is sloppy now and you can tell he’s close just by the way he’s whining in your ear.

“Just for you,” You cry, as his hand slips down towards your clit, rubbing the nub with just the right pressure, making your head spin. Your sentence seems to spark something in Taehyung because he grips your neck tighter, quickening his pace.

“Fuck, baby you’re driving me crazy,” He grunts as you begin to lose control, your pussy clenching against his length, making the man lose his composure. “God, your pussy feels so good, so fucking wet and tight just for me.”

“L-let me cum, please,” You beg, almost sobbing as your toes curl up in pleasure. “Please, Tae, I c-can’t anymore.”

Taehyung grunts, pulling out all the way before he plunges back in, his following thrusts short and shallow as he struggles to keep a grip on you. He bucks his hip forward, hand grabbing your shoulder as your name comes out in the form of moans. From your spot, you can see his eyebrows tucked together, his face looking absolutely fucked out and god, you’d do anything to see him look like that again. He chases his high desperately, groaning long and hard before he jerks forward, his cock stuttering as his seed spills into you, your walls clenching around him. You whine, cussing as he brings you to your high, his fingers circling your clit, making your vision go white. As he comes down from his high, he thrusts into you, hitting the bundle of nerves inside you, hitting the spot that made you hold your breath.

“Pl-please, please, please, Taehyung, I need to cum,” You cry, wail almost as you feel the coil in your stomach grow even tighter.

“You want to cum?” He asks, grunting. You nod, whining as he picks up the pace. “Then be a good girl and cum all over my cock, baby.”

You swear you almost black out, your orgasm so intense that you can no longer hold yourself up, your limbs betraying you as you sink into the mattress, pussy pulsing as it clenches uncontrollably. Taehyung pulls out, flipping you over before his lips finds yours between your pants. His kisses are languid and soft, almost as if it’s an apology. His touch is gentle, cradling your cheeks as he kisses you senseless, sucking at your lips so you would part them for him. His free hand moves down to your pussy his fingers slowly gathering his cum that was spilling out just to push it back into you and you squirm under his hold, whimpering. He continues for a while, his fingers brushing over your clit every so often so he could hear you whine, asking him to stop as your pussy throbbed, feeling a tad bit sensitive.

“I wasn’t too rough, was I?” He asks as he undoes the necktie that holds your hands together. He frowns, hands smoothing over your wrists that have been rubbed raw. The question catches you off guard, his entire demeanour does. You’re pretty sure most guys do not treat their escorts this way.

“It’s fine, Taehyung. I-I liked it,” You mumble, eyes downcast. At that he smiles, grabbing the soft towel from the nearby table along with his blazer with him. He’s mostly quiet as he cleans you up. Of course he kind of sits there mesmerized as he watches his cum leak out of your pussy. Damn, you seriously don’t understand what you do to him.

Taehyung offers you his shirt before he puts on his boxers and you sit there, awkwardly buttoning his shirt because isn’t he supposed to leave now? Isn’t that how these things usually go? The men would come here, have their fun and leave immediately after. Why was he still here, lingering?

He soon returns to the bed, his hand reaching into the pockets of his blazer to pull out something. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion as he produces two packets, a giant foot printed on each one. You stare it for a little longer before a dawn of realization hits you and you smile, immediately unwrapping the packet when he hands it to you.

“Oh my god, I love these. I almost forgot they existed,” You smile, pulling out the lollipop that was shaped in a foot before carefully dipping it back into the bottom of the packet that held the fizzy powder. “It’s so hard to find them nowadays.”

“Yeah, you can only get them at those really old family owned sundry shops now,” He smiles, unwrapping his own one.

“Seriously, I love this candy so much,” You laugh. “It brings me back to my childhood.”

Taehyung only grins as he makes himself comfortable among the pillows. He beckons you over by patting the spot next to him.

“You know, this sort of feels like it’s meant to console me. Like a hey, you were bad in bed but here, have a lollipop! It’ll make you feel better,” You laugh and Taehyung blushes.

“Th-That’s not what I meant by giving you this lollipop. If anything you’re leagues better than the 3/10 that you think you are.”

“Well, what was your intention then?”

“Nothing really,” He hums. “It’s just that I’m a man of my word is all.”

18 years ago

“It’s not that bad really,” You assure the boy that’s crying in front of you. “It doesn’t hurt one bit,” You smile, wiping the blood away from your lips.

You’re lying. It hurts… a lot and you kind of regret standing up to the bullies but you weren’t just going to sit back and watch those older boys beat up that same little kid again.

“I’m so sorry,” He mumbles, sobbing. “Next time you shouldn’t try to help.”

“I can’t leave you alone like that,” You frown. “They’re just being big meanies. You didn’t even do anything wrong.”

The boy sighs. You’re as stubborn as an ox. How could you not see that this was a losing battle? They were going to bully him forever. He was an easy target, the poor boy with tattered clothes and no money for food. He just came to the playground to escape from the constant fights his parents would have. He just wanted one moment of peace, and if not the playground, he had nowhere else to go. It was better than home anyway. Even if he got beat up here, at least he would get his moment of peace whenever he laid in the sand box alone, sobbing. At least there was no shouting here once the sun begins to set.

“Oh, my mum’s here,” You hum, breaking the boy out of the trance he was in. “Come on!” You smile, grabbing him by the hand, leading him to your mother.

“What the— Y/N, what happened?” Your mother questions, panicked.

“Well, we—,” You point to yourself and then to the boy next to you. “—stood up to the bullies!”

Your mother sighs, crouching down to inspect your split lip. She can only shake her head as you give her a grin, wincing in pain when you smile too wide.

“And you, oh sweetheart,” She mumbles, softly turning to see his face littered with bruises. “Where are your parents?”

“Busy fighting, throwing things at each other,” The boy answers honestly.

Your mother hums, gulping nervously.

“What’s your name?”

“Kim,” He answers easily with his last name that he shares with thousands of people. His father had told him not to give out his full name. Especially since there’s an order out to kidnap a Kim Taehyung. The mafia needed some leverage so that his father would actually pay back his debt.

“O-okay, Kim,” Your mother smiles. “Would you like to join us for dinner?”

“Can I?” He asks, absolutely beaming at the thought of finally being able to eat a hot meal.

“Sure, what would you like to have? Y/N here likes— Where’d she go? Y/N—”

Your mother only grumbles to herself as she watches you run back towards her, two little packets in your hand.

“I told you to stop running off like that,” Your mother frowns.

“But he was going to leave,” You mumble, pointing to the ice-cream man who’s packing up his cart, putting away the assorted candies he sold along with his ice-cream. “Here,” You smile, handing a packet to the boy. He inspects it with furrowed eyebrows, twisting the packet with a large foot printed on it.

Your obsession with the weirdly shaped lollipop honestly drives your mother crazy. It certainly didn’t help that it was not the easiest candy to find.

“It tastes funny,” The boy mumbles, noting that the candy fizzes in his mouth. “And it’s sour,” He murmurs, face scrunching up at the taste. “But I like it.”

“Exactly! It’s the best!” You smile, dipping the lollipop back into the packet to pick up some more powder.

Your mother takes the both of you by the hand, leading you two to a nearby restaurant. She picks the place because she’s had a long day and she really just wants a good plate of fried rice to heal her soul. She notes the Kim boy is rather quiet, but in your presence, he seems to light up. Shame, she sighs. It’s nice that you were getting along so well with this kid, but you and your mother are moving away to another town in just a few days. Moreover, it didn’t quite sit well with her that the boy had said some rather disturbing things about his home life… and the fact that he was being bullied daily at the playground, that hurt her heart too. But, it was hard taking care of you alone. She didn’t really need more to worry about, in fact she couldn’t afford it.

“You sure you’ll be okay walking home?” Your mother asks, as the three of you stand outside the restaurant.

“Yes.”

“We can walk you home if you would just let us know where it is.”

“My parents really don’t like me giving out our address to strangers,” He mumbles, staring at his feet.

“Okay,” Your mother hums. “You be safe, alright?”

Taehyung nods, ready to walk away when you stop him, making him stand there as you tug at your mother’s sleeve, making her crouch down so you could whisper in her ear.

“Please,” You beg, hands clasped together as your mother gives you a pointed look after having heard your request. She sighs before she nods and digs into her purse for her wallet. The grin you have on when she hands you the money is truly precious.

“Here, take this,” You smile, handing the boy the $20 your mother had just given you. “Don’t let those stupid boys hurt you anymore a-and get yourself something nice to eat tomorrow.”

“Y/N,” He says, dumbfounded, staring at the bill in his hand.

“Oh and here,” You grin, putting the lollipop packet in his hand. “I was saving this for later but I think you should have it.”

“Y/N,” He repeats in the same tone, still in shock. He knows he should say something along the lines of no, I can’t take any of this but the truth is… he wanted both of those things in his hands badly.

“I’ll see you around Kim,” You mumble as you wave at him, walking backwards to your mum who’s waiting further ahead.

“I… I promise I’ll get you this when I have money next time!” He shouts, holding up the packet. “I’ll pay you back 100 times the amount,” He says, pointing at the $20.

“You promise?”

“I promise!”

Taehyung is a man of his word, always has been and always will be. It’s why when you go to drop off your monthly installment for the debt your father owes, they inform you that with the amount you had just paid, you had completely cleared the debt. They tell you that they were surprised to receive the money you mailed in last week and the truth is, so are you but you only nod nonchalantly. You make sure to get the proper documentation from them, to confirm that they were absolutely certain that your account has been cleared. You walk out of there with a nice little slip with their insignia and a gang member’s signature that verifies that the debt has been paid in full. You laugh to yourself, absolutely grateful for their miscalculation or rather, mismanagement. You actually had hundreds and thousands left to pay but hey, you’re not going to tell them that. God, you can’t wait to tell Taehyung what dumbasses his rivals are.

*bonus*

check out this ask for extras like how tae knew it was oc and if he ever tells her that he’s the little boy she helped out!

A/N: as always, thanks for reading and feedback is always welcome!!! (: also this was meant to be a drabble… i swear… but u kno meeeee

#bts smut #taehyung smut #bts fanfic #bts scenarios #taehyung fluff

3K notes · View notes

beyondtheciouds · 3 years

Text

Part 29. 3 of 3

Twas the night before Yulemas and all through the house not a creature was stirring except for a small brown mouse.

The children were all snug tight in their beds. Smiles on their faces as dreams of sugared plums danced in their heads.

Outside, the snow fell in droves and filled the streets, impassible for cars and carriages. The windows were frosted; icles hanging like glittering packages.

The brick and mortar chimnies chain smoked; pairs of lungs coughing ashes.

Dust saturated the fresh snowflakes on snowcapped rooftops; heavy as Lucie's lashes.

The moon was nearly full; the fringe of dawn barely a heartbeat. Lucie didn't hesitate getting out of bed when she suspected Henry and Charlotte were fast asleep.

Her secret plans were already in motion; she was in far too deep.

Tonight Lucie and Grace would wake the one lost in an eternal sleep. The anticipation ran through her bones; sidewinding up her veins like an ivy on a chase.

The candles on the Yulemas tree were long snuffed out; the yuletide log smoldering in the fireplace.

The only sound downstairs was the incessant scratching inside the walls. A mouse was hunting about, searching the halls.

The manor was festive; the decor just right. Charlotte had decorated in odd bright colors; glitter and gold balls. A sight to behold, a treasure left scandously untold.

Mugs of cold, sugared tea and burnt biscuits were dutifully set out by Matthew's sisters in hopes of toys being brought.

They were antsy and fought before bedtime. That is, until Lucie sang them a sweet rhyme.

Earlier, Lucie had been filled with warmth as Henry played carols on the pinafore and the girls sang loudly and off key.

She had spent the evening after supper with Cordelia and Charlotte, knitting sweaters for the three.

Now she felt bitter and upset, but the night wasn't over. No, not yet.

The conversations had flowed so easily between the women in the hours before. Lucie had almost forgot the other demands; the baby she tried to ignore.

But the truth was, she was happy to be doing something productive with her hands.

Lucie enjoyed the conversations even if listening to Charlotte was quite the chore.

Tomorrow was Yulemas but Lucie could not have felt less festive.

Yes, the girl Herondale had become rather quite obsessive.

A solid glance over her shoulder gave her courage in the dark. Cordelia was fast asleep on the opposite bed, stiff like chalk.

Lucie stilled, thinking she heard Oscar bark.

Cordelia's back was turned to Lucie; the long braid resting against the comforter like a serpent.

Cordelia was the only one who wouldn't help and the lack of support streamlined Lucie's determination like a torrent.

Lucie felt guilty, like a sneaky child as she opened her door. She crept out into the candle-lit hall ignorant of the consequences her actions might cause.

A familar frown pressed her lips as she closed the door and paused.

For weeks a string tugged at her, knowing that her freedom was slipping through her finger. Each free moment was ready to disappear; the life with a drinker.

Everything seemed doomed; so unfair.

Selfishly, she assumed tonight was only a prelude to the tired life she would soon have living in the walls of Fairchild Manor or worse: Matthew's downtown London flat.

For hours, Lucie had tried to sleep after adjusting the ribbons on an old hat.

She read Cordelia a chapter or two of a mystery book, then finished with a cup of warm milk.

Poor Lucie begged her brain to shut off long after she was wrapped in cotton and silk.

But Charlotte's voice kept droning on in her ears, until her heart was able to tilt.

"I am really happy that Matthew is with you, Lucie. You do know he is trying quite hard to be a better man for you and the baby. You will be quite a good match for my wild child, and quite happy I assure you."

Lucie was uncharacteristically careless in her response. She had only thought about her own wants.

She whole heartedly disagreed before silencing herself much to Cordelia's horror.

Many times Lucie Herondale had tried to imagine being married to Matthew, just for a minute or an hour.

She pictured having a family, a normal Shadowhunter life with him at her side. A family life like her own.

But she just couldn't picture herself being trapped inside. A bird in a cage; her wings barely flown.

She couldn't stay in the net waiting up for him every night. It was just too much to ask.

Worrying. Wondering if tonight would be the night he'd get in a fatal fight or worse; death by her own axe.

How they would feed their family if he died. How would she live, crumbling on the inside. She didn't even have the faintest idea how he felt about women writers or the socially responsible duties they were to provide.

Lucie didn't have a clue how to be a mother or run a household.

This much she'd been told; they'd be wed under the sacred Shadowhunter vows; their bodies marked each with a matching rune.

After they would go on living as two separate people under the light of the moon.

He would conquer binges of weeks where he'd be drunk daily and purges where he would be sick and sober.

She'd stay home; keep house and take care of the children, and he'd lovingly call her his good luck clover.

This would be a cycle that wouldn't end. It would only grow worse with each year; each baby born on the cusp of regret and condenscend.

That didn't mean living with Matthew Fairchild was hopeless as a snowflake in the rain. Perhaps Lucie was wrong. Perhaps Matthew Fairchild was only in pain.

What the cards were showing Lucie now was just a reality she didn't think she could endure.

The truth was, part of Lucie did love Matthew, so much more. When he bled, she bled in her core.

Nightmares and dreams about him had often haunted her into rejecting his previous advances and now she knew why.

She presumed the dreams were omens; warning her not to abandon the sky.

The Fairchild/ Herondale union had been long awaited for by both families, but particularly by the Consul.

Lucie knew what Charlotte expected of her future daughter-in-law was damn near impossible.

Change Matthew. Fix him.

Lucie dreaded every moment spent under the Consul's watchful eye. Every minute she was in Charlotte's company was as unpleasant as a stye.

As Lucie passed Matthew's room, thinking about the last time he'd held a sober smile, she slowed her pace and stopped short. A groaning noise came from within and Lucie wondered if Matthew had overdone it on port.

His door was open just a crack, enough to see into the chaos of his existence; a dream. The stench of stale cigars and regurgitated gin spilled into the hall; hitting her nose like steam.

Lucie gagged and her heart broke at the sight of him laying like a rag doll among dirty linens.

She hadn't expected him to be home and was shocked to see him in such a position.

Lucie had never been able to read Matthew's mind. Now, she wondered if it might have been a good find if she'd had the time.

Her heart had conceded and concluded any type of relationship with him was out of the question.

Being Matthew's bride had never been a suggestion.

She pretended that had been the reason she never reciprocated his feelings. Not until she plainly understood him and his bad dealings.

A well of sadness filled up inside her as she reached out her hand, shining the witchlight into the darkness of the room. The bed was empty except for Oscar, a pillar in the sand.

As usual, the golden retriever was unaware; sleeping loyally ontop of a ragged blanket tucked under his hand.

She shined the light just above Matthew's sleeping body. His arms were spread, legs tucked tight together; a disgusting hottie.

Distracted by the way the light sweat on his chest gleamed pale under the flickering witchlight, Lucie thought about that night. The sweet smirk that swelled on his face was a haunting memory; a sin and a show. One she had hidden in her bones reminding her of a promise she made to him that felt so long ago.

The breeze was cool; the night hot. Cicadas and crickets staged their favorite tunes in an effort to provide a sonata. Not a cloud nor haze flooded the starlit sky; only fireflies lit up the night. Shades of blue from the lake lit her eyes with a warm glow. Lucie watched Matthew with anticipation as her skin grew warmer from every sip of his flask.

Do you love me? Matthew's hot breath on her neck. His lips were fire; hot cinnamon liquor burning her skin with each devious kiss on her flesh.

Yes. Everything would have been yes to him in the heat of that moment. Her hands were beyond confinement and reached eagerly for the buttons on his waistcoat.

Do you promise, Lucie darling? His green eyes were dark, serious under the stars.

I promise. And she meant it. Or she thought she did.

I love you, Lucie Herondale. You're the only one besides James that means anything to me. This is for forever. I swear on my life.

I love you too. Her lips against his were ice on fire; electric and numbing the voice screaming in her head.

Lucie blinked, rolling out of her reverie with the grace of someone used to disappearing into herself.

Matthew was still sprawled out, drool trickled down, out of his mouth.

His hand rested among the fresh vomit and spit on the rug. He was still in his rumpled navy pants and his belt was half undone; broken as the wings of a dead bug.

Stained socks and muddy shoes were discarded in a heap. It was as if he meant to climb in bed and instead just collapsed on the floor, fast asleep.

Lucie wondered if she should wake him; maybe help him into bed or the bath.

Matthew was snoring loudly; the sound sheilding his lips like a mask.

Lucie frowned, watching him and the moment of charity pass.

Matthew stirred and kicked out his leg. He groaned and rolled his head in torment and wrath. "Luce...Lucie. please. PLEASE. Forgive me. Forgive me."

Lucie sighed and flipped the braided pigtails over her shoulders, disgusted and disappointed instead. She shook her head at Matthew, her heart turning to ice.

How could she ever love him like this? The strings of her heart pulled her into a vice.

Lucie knew she wasn't entirely being nice.

At least now she knew Math was safe and breathing. One crisis averted. Now she could stop caring for awhile and continue seething.

Butterflies rolled inside her belly as the baby turned; shifting positions as if it sensed his father's presence and his mother's disgrace.

Lucie tried not to cry as she quickly shut Matthew's door, glad for him to be out of her sight at least for the night.

Lucie Herondale knew she'd be learning a hard lesson in faith.

The manor was cold, bitter like her uncharacteristic temperament. It was just the way Lucie liked things lately; quiet without comment.

The cold made her feel closer to death; closer to Jesse's spirit.

He was quite the opposite of Matthew who had the most obnoxious tendency to be satiric.

She warmed her heart as she thought about the ghost and his quiet, melodic ways. She imagined him in the sunlight; alive during the days.

Lucie became once more determined to save his soul. A debt that was unpaid; a secret not to be told.

Christopher and Grace had snuck downstairs after the lights went out. They were headed to the lab without a doubt.

Christopher thought he might have figured out a chemical compound needed in the spell Grace had shown him during tea and lemon tarts that afternoon.

James promised to guard the door as Thomas occupied the insomniac old housekeeper with a card game and some gin. Every one was in their places; helping Lucie's cause and Lucie shivered, feeling Matthew's hands still on her skin.

A whistle helplessly escaped her lips as she moved down the hall. She felt slightly more optimistic, smiling and all.

Lucie could feel the hairs on her arms rise, theories becoming reality. She felt Grace and her were getting closer to the right order of the specialty.

Goosebumps coated her bare arms as her feet padded quietly towards the music room; the hem of the nightgown billowing around her ankles like a flowers bloom. She tried not to skip like a schoolgirl.

The witchlight she cupped in her hands bounced off the walls; reflecting the contemporary colors in various variations of self portraits and Lucie couldn't help but look down at her hand; Matthew's ring and his pearl.

Suddenly, she was breathless. She stopped; reckless.

Something was wrong.

Someone was watching.

Someone was waiting.

Most of the walls were covered with expensive self paintings. Here and there; scattered were exquisite Idris countryside landscapes which Lucie found intoxicating.

Minature statues and other odd art were strategically placed on pedestals along the walls. Flowers on tables; Oscar Wilde inspired green carnations graced the hall; smelling pecularily of mint and clover during the fall.

This was Matthew's wing and it was freely decorated over. An artist's heart trapped in a body lacking talents. Everything was either beautiful or tragic to him; a man of great gallant.

Nothing was traditional or logical. Should it be to a man of illogical graces?

Lucie noticed the bright green of his eyes in some of the faces. They seemed to move slowly and appeared to be following.

She ignored their name calling as she caught her breath and moved on into the fray. The eerie feeling reminded her of Matthew's favorite legend; Dorian Gray. The fear that story brought back drowned out any other excuse she may have had for being frightened.

Lucie shook slightly as she quickened; her toes were red and numb as her limbs tightened. She scolded herself for venturing this far in the manor for a waste of a shortcut. Down this demented, self loathing hallway she desperately desired a peanut.

She hated that she discarded Matthew's privacy so blatantly. Even moreover her eagerness to meet Jesse hastily.

It had been almost a week since they'd met in private. The time spent apart dramatic.

In all the time she had been in the manor, she had never been in one of the extravagant rooms he uses. He had always forbid it and come to her; insisting she was the favorite among his muses.

Lucie was reminded of the story of Beauty and the Beast, which she found odd and sad at the very least.

Down the stairs, nearly tripping over her feet. Lucie felt a strange tingle on her sheet of skin as she reached the doors to the music room. She took a deep breath and pulled the solid oak doors open and slam against the wall with a boom. "Jesse?"

The moonlight greeted her; pure and silver like a star. Lucie was awestruck by what she saw.

In it's center was a black grand piano; to the left was another Yulemas tree twinking with candles, surrounded with gifts. The branches were strung with gold ribbons and mistletoe adrift.

The shapes of the gifts were shadows on the ceiling; fingers beckoning to the great beyond. Lucie could sense other spirits shamelessly coiling in the dark corners; not ready to move on.

Jesse was tired, trembling and translucent. Lucie felt like she on a boat on the rocking seas. His body was perched on the bench; his hands poised above the ivory keys. His head was lowered; ink stains on the pure, paper skin of his face.

Lucie gasped, parched. She could see he was singing an old Welsh song quietly by the light of a illuminating hearth. She smiled as his fingers instinctively played the tune in the air.

He was beautiful and fair.

Lucie hushed the intrusive and intricate shape of a story taking place in her head. She didn't want to break the moment, but she had to say something to make her heart stop racing and her breath like lead.

"Hello," she whispered to the dead.

#cassandra clare #the last hours #lucie herondale #the shadowhunter chronicles

8 notes · View notes

wildnya · 4 years

Text

Chapter 4: Everyone, Say “Thank you, Clover”

The group was delayed before the first store was even in sight. Why? Dazai nearly died... from a nosebleed. On the way they’d passed a shop displaying the type of lingerie Dazai loved. One look at that and a glance at Robin was all it took. It worsened when Robin bent down to see if he was alright, tilting his head up so he’d have a better look. He was an angel sent from heaven in his eyes.

It was no surprise his partner knew what had caused the sudden gush to happen and reaction to it, a deep sigh as he brought his hand up to cover his eyes, head shaking like a disappointed mother. The same went for his other three subordinates, an awkward cough from Akutagawa while Gin and Higuchi exchanged a look. However the reaction he received from Clover did surprise him.

Everyone was surprised at how quickly Clover warmed up to Chuuya. None of them could come up with an explanation. A gust of wind blew off the executives hat on the way and Clover had jumped up to catch it. Akutagawa and Robin were dumbfounded seeing her not shy away from Chuuya’s head pat. Soon after that Dazai had seen Akutagawa bend over her shoulder to ask her something. He had a feeling it was along the lines of why his girlfriend was already comfortable being around the short redhead. A stumped look appeared on Clover’s face at his question. Akutagawa gave a simple nod to whatever the answer she gave him, accepting it without questions.

It was obvious befriending Clover was a must from watching the siblings interact. Their bond as siblings was just as strong as the Akutagawa’s, maybe stronger. The trouble was though she wasn’t warming up to Dazai, at all. Any attempts of starting a conversation ended with her hiding behind one of the others. Getting the shy girl to open up was going to be a tough battle, or so he thought.

Seeing his nosebleed worsen after looking at her brother all uneasiness vanished from her sapphire eye to be replaced by curiosity. She no longer found the mafia boss intimidating, but continued to keep her distance. Dazai pretended not to notice the younger’s glances, head tilts, and stares she gave him. It wouldn’t surprise him if she knew he was purposely being oblivious though. He knew his mentee was smart enough to tell his lover what job occupation he had before getting into a relationship. Clover would definitely know Dazai was the boss, Akutagawa wouldn’t address him as that if he wasn’t.

“Oi,” a poke from Chuuya brought him out of his thoughts “hurry up and ask him.” the unwelcomed nervousness returned. “Isn’t it too soon?” Dazai hated the way his nerves acted up so much whenever it came to Robin, the feeling was alien to him. “Shouldn’t I make friends with Clover first? I definitely will have to eventually, she is his top priority right now. You see it, right Chuuya? I wouldn’t want to rush things! Furthermore-” a tug on the sleeve of his coat stopped the flowing of excuses falling from the brunette mouth. Dazai scared Clover with how fast he turned to face her. She would have jumped up again if Akutagawa hadn’t put his hands on her shoulders.

“A-ah, I’m sorry!” he quickly apologized when he saw her shrinking away. Taking notice of cat ears now resting flat against her head, he put on a bright smile to come off as less intimidating, “I’m not used to having my clothes tugged on, you caught me off guard.” the ears had vanished the moment she saw his eyes, but he was not taking any chances. Better safe than sorry.

“What can I do for you, Clover-chan?” Dazai added a cheery voice to his smile, putting on his mask to hide the annoying nerves that had been pegging him all day. In the corner of his eye could see her tail entwined with a sliver of Rashoumon. “She’s sharper than she presents herself to be.” he thought seeing her tail tightened when he put on his mask “it’s probably best to be careful when she’s around.” His thoughts were confirmed when her lips pressed into a thin line after he upped his mask level. Dazai toned it down after that, but only enough to let the nervousness be seen. He made a mental note seeing Clover relax slightly when he did.

“Is there something you can’t reach? I’ll get it down, just show me where.” Dazai used a milder voice this time. He was pleased to see Clover’s tail loosen slightly but it didn’t surprise him when it tightened again. Clover played with her hands, opening and closing her mouth trying to find her voice. Akutagawa removed one of his hands from her shoulders. The other stayed as a silent reminder he was there. After a squeeze from him Clover found her voice. “U-um,” her voice was very fitting for her personality and appearance, soft and quiet. It was very cute. “Ro-Robin can-can’t afford to buy m-me a som-something and a su-suit for h-him. He w-won’t l-let you bu-buy him one w-without…” she reached her limit.

Clover scurried to hide behind Akutagawa who didn’t bat an eye finishing what she started, picking up where she left off immediately. “Robin spends nearly all of his time either studying or doing small jobs to earn some extra cash for Clover to go out. There are… complications that keep Clover from getting a job as well, and he’s too stubborn to accept money for no reason.” he glanced back at his girlfriend continuing when her grip tightened on his jacket “to put it simply, you’re compatible and she’s saying go for it.” “I heard my name~” perfect timing “what’re talking-” no time was wasted. Dazai took the students hand in his as he knelt, all nervousness gone like before.

“Robin, will you listen to this lonely man’s woes? The position of my job occupation requires me to attend many business parties every year, and I dread having to go. Every party I attract the attention of ladies there. Though they are lovely ladies and I do not mind making small talk with them, they keep making moves on me. There have been occasions where benefits which would have served us well were lost thanks to unloyal wives trying to hook up with me. It is so tiring having to tiptoe around their advances and being flirted with every other minute, but after meeting you this burden may finally be lifted off my shoulders.” cressing his hand, Dazai gave him the smile that has won the hearts of many. “Robin, will you do me the honor of accompanying me as my date to the party?”

“Can’t.” Robin pulled his hand away. “I have classes and work, I can’t skip either. Plus I don’t have the money to buy both of us an outfit.” he gestured to his sister. Rubbing his neck awkwardly, an apologetic smile formed on his lips “I appreciate the invite though.” Dazai could hear his hope and excitement shatter. Until he noticed the couple had been joined by Gin and Higuchi not far off behind Robin. The girl's were waving their arms trying to get his attention.

When they had it, Akutagawa slightly leaned down so Clover could whisper in his ear. Summoning Rashoumon, he used the demon to make characters for Dazai to read. ‘Tell him you’ll pay for his suit.’ they read. “No, I can’t accept that.” Robin immediately denied the offer while Rashoumon simultaneously morphed into a new message, ‘offer a job. Ah, she’s a clever one. Now knowing where this was going, Dazai signaled them to stay on standby and took the reins. They nodded and Rashoumon vanished. Dazai made a mental note to give them a few days off as thanks and to also invite Clover to lunch.

“I can offer you a job to replace your old ones. I’ll pay you more than what you made before.” Robin quirked an eyebrow, eyes now cautious “and what would that be?” “it isn’t anything difficult, I just want you to be arm candy.” Dazai reached out to take his hand the third time that day. “My job requires me to do mountains of paperwork and report reading everyday, and almost every week there is a boring meeting I must attend or one of those exhausting parties.” he heaved a dramatic sigh. “I’m bored and lonely, having no one to keep me company in my dark office. But then I met you. Just being in the same room with you brightens my day. It would make me the happiest man alive for you to accept.” he kissed his hand. Robin stared down at him processing what he’d just been proposed with, a faint pink blush forming once he had.

“I- um- well, it’s a nice offer- I don’t know- it’s like-!” he began stuttering, looking away flustered. “I don’t think I’d be satisfied with getting paid to-” he stopped mid-sentence feeling Clover give his back a poke, her face stone cold. “H-hey Clover,” with an uneasy smile, Robin turned to face his sister “what’s up? Did you find something you liked?” she didn’t reply, only stared at him unblinking as the air around her grew heavy. “What, are you worried about me? I’m fine, don’t worry.” ears out, tail lashing “I like the jobs I’m doing, they keep me on my toes.” eye shifts to become more feline “plus I spend every class sitting, I’d get restless from doing that at work too!” Gin and Higuchi join her with closed eye smiles, adding to the peer pressure “don’t forget I do my assignments on my breaks, so, um, yeah that’s a thing!” Akutagawa came to stand behind them, switching to mafia mode to max out the intensity.

“Fine, fine! I yield, I yield, you win.” Clover withdrew her feline features with a smile. Gin and Higuchi high fived without looking at each other while Akutagawa turned off mafia mode with a cough.

Robin sighed, “this is what you’re getting yourself into, I hope you’re ready.” “I’m very aware,” Akutagawa let out another cough “there have been many occasions she has kept me home to rest by stealing Rashoumon.” “this kid can get your workaholic ass to actually rest?” Chuuya laughed, coming around him ruffle her hair “you’re than ya seem, aren’t’cha kid?” Clover leaned into Chuuya’s hand, smiling widening.

Another sigh escaped Robin’s mouth, “anyway, let’s get back to shopping, we still haven’t found something for the lovebirds and now I need my own-” “there’s no longer a need for that!” Dazai’s sudden excimation startled the rest “I’m arranging tailor made outfits for everyone to celebrate the end of my party woes. No no,” he waved a finger seeing some open their mouths to protest “I insist! Accept this as a thank you gift too~”

The newly appointed arm candy pinched the bridge of his nose, “look, I appreciate the offer but this is too much-” “you’ll be attending many parties and meetings, the majority will require formal attire,” the mafia boss interrupted the student again “you can’t wear the same thing every time. It’s only appropriate for me to provide the clothes, since it’s part of your job. There’s no fault in this logic, no?” he smiled down at him, nothing threatening, just a normal smile.

Looking up at the ceiling eyes closed, he was quiet. “So,” Robin looked back at Dazai, crossing his arms, “when do I start?”

#The Feral Broke and The Boss #bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd dazai #pm!boss dazai #bsd akutagawa #bsd chuuya #bsd gin #bsd higuchi #bsd oc robin #bsd oc clover #bsd fanfic

9 notes · View notes

astxlphe · 4 years

Text

Day 4 / Desperate // Akuhigu

@bsd-rarepair-valentines-week

Higuchi falls in enemy hands and Akutagawa will do anything to bring her home.

(Oof sorry in advance this is mostly unedited)

CW: Violence / threat of torture / blood

"What do you mean, she is gone?”

Mori sighed. “While yesterday’s mission was successful – we could put a stop to their stealing of our supplies and found out the traitor’s identity – their organization was not destroyed.”

He raised a knowing eyebrow at Akutagawa, who stood, frozen, brain reeling with the new information.

“So, it’s revenge?”

“Or they want to know where are supplies they stole from us.” Mori crossed his fingers in front of him. “Either way, they will probably kill her — if it’s not already done.”

“They won’t.” In his pocket, Akutagawa’s fingers clenched into fists. “If it’s information they want, they won’t kill her yet.”

“You are not usually this optimistic.”

Higuchi was capable. She couldn’t just die. She was his subordinate because she wasn’t as likely to get herself killed stupidly as any other.

Mori talked more — something about what a shame it was — but Akutagawa didn’t exactly care. When he was dismissed, he bent down in a sharp bow, and left.

He walked back to the Black Lizards office fast, and pulled out the reports and plans they had made in prevision for their mission. He remembered the location — the warehouse they had raided last night, the abandoned building near the construction area which served as their headquarters.

He hesitated. He should do nothing. Higuchi’s own carelessness had gotten her captured and there was no reason to dispatch anyone to bring her back. If there was a need, the boss would order it, and he hadn’t.

Well, Akutagawa wasn’t known for following orders to the letter anyway.

The boss would consider her replaceable, and would not risk sending a team to bring her back, not when she was probably already dead and their mission successful.

Except that Higuchi couldn’t die. Her place was by his side.

“Are you going to go?”

He put down the papers and turned back toward Gin. “I—” He paused, thinking of the time Higuchi pulled him out of enemy hands, defying the boss’ orders. No matter how much trouble he brought her, she always seemed to follow him right through it. “I owe her a debt,” he justified. “The boss won’t mind.”

He was not blind to Mori’s leniency when it came to him — he had rarely been punished even for his most reckless endeavors; even when by all logic he should have been.

But that was mostly because his disregards of orders came with results. Today he wasn’t sure the boss would, even if he was successful, consider the result worth the trouble.

“Wait here,” she told him. “I’ll go get Hirotsu and Tachihara, we will go together.”

Higuchi’s head throbbed, and she breathed through her teeth, through the pain in her ribs.

She tried to slip her wrists out of the ropes binding her to the chair. She tasted blood on her tongue where she had accidentally bit herself when her captor had hit her face.

Wrinkling her nose, she cursed herself for not seeing that coming.

Akutagawa would be pretty disappointed in her, letting herself be captured like this.

Her captor sat lazily on the table, playing with her weapon. She had been eyeing it since she had woken up, trying to think of a way she could take it away from him and escape. So far, her train of thoughts had been broken too many times by the man trying to get information out of her for her to have an actual plan.

But she was a Port Mafia operative, and a leader of the Black Lizards. She could escape and go back to headquarters herself, whether they came for her or not.

“Where did you hide our supplies?”

“Yours?” She scoffed. “They belong to the Port Mafia. You stole them.”

”You stole them, we stole them in turn, it’s ours now.” He stood, moving towards her. “We have ways to make you talk. This time I won’t be as nice.”

“You think I don’t know that?” She gulped, hard, trying to keep her composure. “I can deal with it.”

She almost winced when he brought out the large, extremely sharp looking knife. “All right then. Is there a finger you like less than the others?”

Before he could make use of his blade, the door flew open. “Sir! We have a problem.” The newcomer wrung his hands together. “The Mafia is back.”

“What?” He glared down at her as if it was her fault. "How many?”

“That’s the thing, sir.” He grimaced. “Just one.”

There was a crash from further away, and someone screamed.

Akutagawa walked towards the building and the armed guards at the door immediately readied theirs weapons.

Rashomon reared its head, red eyes glowing,

Don’t kill, a little voice murmured at the back of his head, sounding way too much like the weretiger for his taste.

The guards screamed as Rashomon ripped through their arms, their guns fell and Akutagawa walked past them without sparing them a glance.

This was what this ridiculous, annoying promise led too, and only two months into it. He should have wiped that little gang as soon as he got the chance. But no, he hadn’t killed the lot of them and now they had taken Higuchi.

The glass door closed behind him, and he found himself alone in the half-constructed lobby. The building was, for a long time, supposed to be an office block, but it had never been finished, and everything had been left half done.

Higuchi had to be somewhere here. That idiot. Always needing him to get out of trouble.

Too busy watching his back she didn’t pay enough attention to hers.

He took the stairs, heading for the first floor. On the corner of his eye, he could see the camera follow him.

Soon after, he heard footsteps coming from each side of him, and more armed men came at him.

He didn’t have the time for this, and Rashomon extended, cutting through hands to disarm them.

Bullets flying around him, his ability eating them when they came too close.

He turned at a corner. Rashomon wrapped itself around one of his enemies, dragging them after him, and he ran into an empty room, closing the door behind them

“Where is she?” He bared his teeth. “Speak before I rip your throat out.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He drove Rashomon through his shoulder, and pulled back. Blood sprayed and he fell. Akutagawa left him groaning in pain on the ground.

Wiping the blood off his face, he went on.

All things considered, going alone may not have been his brightest idea.

He ducked in a corner, narrowly avoiding another wave of bullets, and a bright, burning pain spread from his side. He let himself fall to the ground, clutching at the wound, gasping for breath.

Blood seeped out of a large cut. The bullet hadn’t pierced through. It had somehow slipped through his defense. It was enough to hurt, but not enough to be lethal.

He was still good to go.

Pushing himself back on his feet, he ignored the pain. The enemy was getting more and more desperate. He had to be close.

He took the stairs again, this time to the second floor. Quickly, he moved out of the camera’s way, trying to be more discreet. He would usually not be this prudent, but he didn’t want to rush in and risk Higuchi’s life.

Hearing more footsteps, he flattened himself against the wall, hoping to be quiet enough not to attract more attention. With the ruckus he’d made, they would be looking for him all over the below floors.

“You said there was only one?”

“Yes.” That voice — the traitor, the one who had sold Port Mafia supplies to a rival organization. “Only one that our men could see — it’s probably Akutagawa, he’s the most likely be sent alone.” He scoffed. “Still, I can’t believe the Mafia would send him, or anyone, to rescue Akutagawa’s useless subordinate.”

He twitched. Don’t kill, the voice chanted in his head. No matter how much he deserves it. You promised.

“It doesn’t matter. If he tries to get to her, we will be here to stop him.”

Their voice grew quieter as they walk down the stairs, obviously intending to meet him before he could reach the right floor.

Akutagawa peaked out of his hiding place. There was no one left, so he opened the first door he found, leading to an empty office. He kept going, stumbling into more and more empty rooms, frustration growing which each step..

Higuchi had managed to free her right hand and was in the process of untying her left one when someone brutally kicked the door open.

She froze in her movement, starring, wide eyed, as who she believed to be her captor came back. It took her a few seconds to realize who the man standing in front of her was.

“Akutagawa?” She tried to say something more, but she couldn’t do anything but stammer out questions. “What— how—why—I’m—”

“I—” He found himself unable to align three coherent words.

Drying blood stained the corner of her mouth and the side of her head, sticking to her hair. The hand she was using to free her still bound wrist was red, rubbed raw by the rope.

“You came to get me,” she ended up saying.

“It’s my job,” he told her, and she snorted.

"No, it’s not. You’re not supposed to be the one protecting me.”

“You are my surbordinate,” he insisted as Rashomon made a quick work of the remaining rope, “and my responsibility. It’s my job.”

Higuchi was fast on her feet. She winced, pressing a hand on her ribs.

“Thank you,” she started. “I’m sorry about—", but Akutagawa shook his head.

“Later. We need to go.”

They heard yelling — several people, footsteps, unclear orders being shouted — from below them.

“They have reinforcements.” She took back her gun, making sure it was still loaded. Then, ignoring her aching body, she followed him out of the door.

The corridor was still empty, but they didn’t linger.

Good thing, too, because it didn’t take long for them to run straight into the enemy.

Akutagawa grabbed her wrist, pulling her closer to him. She fired three times, hitting her mark every time, and Rashomon opened a path for them.

They ran down the stairs, her head swimming, until a sudden pain flared in her leg and she stumbled.

Barely slowing down, one of Rashomon’s tendrils wrapped around her, keeping her on her feet. “Stay up,” Akutagawa ordered, and his ability curled tightly around her waist, almost pulling her against him.

She took down another enemy coming from behind them and hissed in pain when Akutagawa suddenly skidded to a stop, forcing her behind him.

“Get out of my way,” he snarled, “I don’t have time for you.”

Higuchi looked over his shoulder and scowled, recognizing the man who was now trying to prevent them from going forward.

She remembered talking to him just the day before, she remembered him suddenly hitting her over the head and slamming.

“You don’t? What, are you scared of losing? Or are you going soft?”

Anger flared, and she clenched her hand on her gun. Akutagawa did not have time for him, but she sure as hell did.

She shot him.

He staggered, looking down at the blood pooling from under his shirts.

Nobody moved for a second, then Akutagawa walked up to him. “Tell me again,” he demanded, “how useless my subordinate supposedly is?” When he didn’t answer, struggling to breathe through the blood, Akutagawa smiled wryly. “Thought so.”

He turned back to her. “Let’s go,” he said. “We have to go back to headquarters.”

From then, they found the lobby again quickly and walked out. The cold air of the night hit Akutagawa’s face, prickling at his skin, and he allowed himself to breath.

Higuchi was okay.

“Senpai?” Higuchi’s voice caught his attention. “Why did you—” She looked away. “Why did you come or me? I didn’t think the boss would order—”

“He didn’t” He took in her bloodied face and her limp. What else could I have done? I—” I can’t handle the thought of you dying, or of having any one else by my side. “I need you,” he managed to say.

Close enough.

Her face turned a strange, pinkish color, and she looked down, stammering thanks. Then, she stilled. “You’re hurt!” She wrung her hands together. “You’re bleeding, I’m so sorry!”

Adrenaline had dulled in his side, but now that he was calmer, he was starting to feel it — his clothes sticking to the wound, soaked with blood. Each step made it spike.

“I’ll be fine. I can still drive.”

He pulled her closer, his arm around her waist to help her walk in spite of the wound in her leg.

They were almost at the car when they heard quiet footsteps, followed by the snap of a gun being charged. They froze, Higuchi reached for her weapon, and Rashomon came to life.

“I believe I told you to wait for us.”

Gin leaned against the car, her arms crossed, looking at Akutagawa sternly.

On the hood of the car, Tachihara groaned. “They didn’t even need us, what are we here for again?”

“Getaway car.”

Akutagawa’s relief was noticeable. “Gin,” he mumbled.

“So I count for nothing uh?” Tachihara jumped off the car and opened the back door. “All right, get in there, chiefs. We’re driving you back.”

They both collapsed on the back seats. Only then did Akutagawa’s fingers slid off her wrist. Silently, Rashomon extended around Higuchi, covering her protectively.

“Hirotsu is still at headquarters,” Tachihara went on as Gin took place behind the wheel. “Keeping the boss busy.”

“Aren’t you going to get into trouble for —” She gestured vaguely around herself with her free hand. “—this?”

“It didn’t worry you so much, last time.”

“But—” It had been different. It had been for Akutagawa.

“Higuchi.” Akutagawa stared at her in mild annoyance. “Stop worrying over nothing.”

She nodded, even if it made her feel like her head was filled with cotton. Rashomon felt warm around her, and she slumped on her seat, leaning against Akutagawa without thinking about it.

His hand came to rest on hers and she relaxed.

“Don’t fall asleep.”

“But I’m exhausted.” Her eyes slid shut, until something stung her on the arm. She yelped “Hey! What —”

“I said, don’t fall asleep,” Akutagawa repeated. The red spark of Rashomon faded. “You have a head injury.”

“Are you going to do this every time?”

“If I have to.”

“Then I’m safe, right?” She smiled. “With you.”

“I—” He stuttered and looked way. Higuchi was sure he was blushing, but she was probably too out of it to really tell. “Yes,” he admitted, “you are.”

#bsd #bsdrarepairvday #akuhigu #akutagawa ryuunosuke #higuchi ichiyo #look i NEED aku rushing to save higuchi like she did for him okay

63 notes · View notes