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darklydeliciousdesires · 1 year

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The Dream - Chapter Twenty Two.

Thanks for all your continued feedback, guys. I appreciate you so much :)

Previous chapters - Prologue One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven Twelve Thirteen Fourteen Fifteen Sixteen Seventeen Eighteen Nineteen Twenty Twenty One

Tag list - In the comments, please DM to be added/removed (note: those not engaging will be automatically removed from the tag list, FYI)

Words - 3,223

Warnings - 18+ content throughout, minors DNI!

‘We’re about a half hour away. PLEASE HAVE TEQUILA READY.’

The message Angel received the evening he was expecting Keri and her friends was not from his girlfriend. No. It was sent by Rachel. He could only wonder why the need for hard liquor to be placed on standby, but he made sure a bottle was nearby, out where he was sitting with Bishop, Gilly and EZ around a fire pit in front of the clubhouse. When Keri’s car finally pulled into the yard and parked up, he found out why very quickly, Rached exiting the backseat at speed and running for him.

“Give me alcohol!”

He held the bottle forth, raising an eyebrow. “What’s up, Rach?”

She held up a finger to indicate a moment was needed, unscrewing the cap and promptly chugging back three mouthfuls. She didn’t even wince. The guys all shared impressed looks with one another, awaiting the tall redhead’s explanation.

“Twelve and a half fucking hours, I’ve had of those two sharing the driving, arguing about everything under the sun relating to vehicular positioning on the freeway, to then yelling at one another the closer we got down here and the 4G went sketchy, so Google maps kept cutting out because nobody thought to download the area to use the offline map function. We would have been here an hour ago if they’d just let me drive! I can follow road signs!”

“And why didn’t you?”

“They wouldn’t let me. I am, apparently, quote ‘a liability on the freeway’, un fucking quote! Just because I drive fast. I like to get where I’m going and not hang around, but no. Liability. I’m so glad since Keri is staying on, we’re flying back. I can’t go through that again.” She huffed, putting the bottle down. “Hello, by the way.”

Angel couldn’t help but laugh, hugging her back when she greeted him with the same. He introduced her to the guys present, grinning at the way she viewed Gilly, like she might begin to visibly salivate at any time. His own attention was then taken by the arrival of Keri, pulling her down onto his lap, hugging her tightly as she sat astride him. Those three weeks had been much too long.

“I hear you’ve been bitching?” he spoke, Keri rolling her eyes.

“As much as Frankie and I love one another, being in an enclosed space for a long time isn’t always peaceful,” she laughed coyly, Frankie snorting behind her.

“Beets, you have no sense of adventure, that’s your problem!”

“And we would have gone the long way through Arizona, had you gotten your way. I mean really, who argues with Google maps, other than you?”

Rachel reached for the tequila bottle again, the guys all laughing when she chugged back another mouthful.

Angel jerked his head in her direction. “Yeah, I think you broke Rachel.”

“I need a joint, this tequila isn’t cutting it,” she muttered, taking a seat.

Gilly immediately pulled a pre-rolled blunt from his pocket. “I gotchu, mamacita.” He lit it up, taking a few puffs and handing it to her, Rachel inhaling deeply, looking instantly happier.

“Oh, that’s really nice weed,” she croaked, exhaling through her nose, Gilly nodding towards EZ.

“Yeah, thank his wife.”

“And where is she?” Keri asked, having expected Sharise to have been there.

“She stays open late on a Friday, so she’s gone to grab something to eat and she’ll be here,” EZ informed her, Keri smiling.

“Oh good. I have a huge bag full of pinecones for her.” Her statement was met by a look of confusion. “She wants them to fill some decorative bowls with for your lounge.”

He muttered something despairingly in Spanish, swigging his beer.

“Chick litter!” Angel announced.

EZ pointed at him, nodding. “That’s exactly what it is. As if we don’t have enough crystals, candles, dried flowers, animal skulls, African carvings and other shit cluttering every surface!”

“Oh, I feel you, dude,” Frankie spoke, moving to sit herself between him and Bishop. “I got one of those, too. It’s plants with her as well. My bathroom is like a botanical garden.” While Frankie and EZ began to exchange stories of how their space was blighted by the ever-growing collections of little trinkets brought in by their respective beloveds, Bishop weighing in here and there, Rachel and Gilly got talking, and Angel and Keri sat connected at the mouth, very happy to be reunited.

“How does it feel to be done, then?” he asked, nudging her with his thigh in indication for her to stand, taking her hand and heading inside, over to the bar to grab enough beers for everyone.

She puffed her cheeks out, ruffling her hair before quickly giving an incoming Taza a quick hug and kiss in greeting, charmed as ever by his welcoming manner, telling her well done for finally finishing up at college. “Weird, you know! I put so much effort in over these last couple of years and now it feels strange, not to have it all at the epicentre of my world. But that means I get to move other things into that little void, like you, and all the fun we’re gonna have together, and travelling! Both with and without you, even though I know I’m always gonna want it to be with you.”

She pulled him down to her level, kissing his forehead, her nails scratching at his beard, Angel feeling utterly on fire with the love he felt for her. He always had an undying need to feel wanted and special, two things he seldom experienced the joy of in his life, whether through his manufacture or the design of others. “I love you, mister. This is just the start of so much amazing memory making.”

“Love you, too, tiny.” He took a moment to enjoy kissing her, raising his middle finger in the direction of a barrage of yelling and whistling, holding her to him, so glad to have her down there with him while knowing he wasn’t about to lose her again in a few days' time. It was also great to have two of her closest friends down there as well, two girls who he was beginning to think of as his friends too, Frankie mid-explanation of an entertaining sounding story when they arrived back with the drinks.

“So, we’re in our pj’s, and it’s the dead of winter, and I’m in those big monster feet slippers so I can only run like this,” she reminisced, getting up to do the exaggerated replay of her run, “and beets at least had her Uggs on, so she’s right in front of everyone else, baseball bat brandished, and I’m thinking, ‘where is this gonna go?’, because she’s usually petrified of the idea of violence or anything, but never let it be said that drunk Keri can’t sometimes be brave, because she took full advantage of this guy slipping, swung the bat and knocked his legs right out from under him, and then dived on him and held him down while we caught up and waited for the police to arrive. Sadly, my Playstation got trashed when he fell, but at least she got her bag back and Jaime her jewellery!”

Angel turned to his girlfriend, eyeing her curiously before sitting down and pulling her onto his lap. “What’s this about my lil’ baby slugging someone?”

“I have a window of bravery with drunkenness,” she explained, everyone focusing on her. “And yeah, if someone provokes me within that window, I get fierce. Otherwise, forget it. I’m my usual cowardly self who will scream and run from the problem. In this instance, though, being disturbed while I was asleep on the pull out by some little asshole trying to rob Frankie and Jaime’s apartment led to me apprehending him. The two cops were really cool about it, too. I was worrying about smacking the guy with a baseball bat, thinking I’d get arrested for assault, and the one just looks at the other, shrugs and goes ‘what baseball bat?’ then winked and arrested the guy for theft.”

They continued the story sharing, mostly at Keri’s expense, as well as Bishop sharing his usual outrageous tales. The night then progressed into the usual brand of wild partying that led to pass outs to be found all over the clubhouse come 5am, two of whom who slept off their drunken stupor on one of the couches, all curled around one another.

Keri knew she wasn’t awake yet upon opening her eyes, feeling a little bleary, but recognising her surroundings instantly. Her dream had returned her to the eerie house she had first encountered Angel within, looking around as she sat up, her heart tight in her chest until she located him, pushing himself up off the floor just a few feet away from her.

“It’s been a minute, since this happened,” he observed, rising to his feet as Keri did the same, walking to him, both suddenly jumping when a loud noise sounded through the air, followed by a rumble. On instinct, Angel pulled her close protectively, hastily rushing them both backwards when the gnarled up floorboards began to split, the noise deafening as out from beneath it, a gigantic monument rose up, the rumbling sound of its ascent deafening, the entire house shaking, pieces of ceiling coming crashing down as it ascended higher, splitting through the floors above before it breeched the roof, finally stopping.

They both looked at one another, puzzled. “The fuck is that?”

Keri loosened her grip around Angel’s waist, tentatively stepping forward, reaching out to press a hand against the smooth onyx surface. “It’s an obelisk. Why it’s here, though, or what it means I don’t know. This is really strange.”

They both began to circle it, Angel reaching for Keri’s hand and pulling her back close to him, wary of whatever the hell this thing was and why it had appeared, especially in the place he had first encountered her, a place that except for the presence of her had seemed so strange and foreboding when he’d been there last. A few moments of silence passed, both examining the obelisk for any markings, any clues over why it had suddenly appeared, before it suddenly hit Angel.

“It’s a metaphor.” He felt proud in that moment, being able to use a word not usually in his vocabulary, something he’d recently learned from his brother when they’d spoken about metaphorical representations, Angel absorbing the information.

Keri turned, a small frown creasing her pretty features. “For what, though?”

He dropped his head for a moment, feeling a little embarrassed, knowing that the gigantic obelisk related solely to him, his inner mess, his ridiculousness in what his insecurities would taunt him over, have him believe and lead to him behaving irrationally. “Some shit I should talk to you about when we’re awake.” Her worried face immediately prompted his reassurance. “No, baby it’s okay, it ain’t nothing bad. Well, at least not how you might think.”

She relaxed a little when he held her face and kissed her head, looking up at him, stroking his chest. “Then what does it mean, do you think?”

“It’s me and my stuff, panicking as I fuckin’ always do when something good comes into my life. I got issues about being left behind.” Her eyes searched his for more information, Angel continuing, feeling discomfort swirling around in his guts, spreading to his chest, such was the unease that came to him, opening up about things fully. “Kinda scared you’ll meet someone else, someone better than me, while you’re off living your life. Hearing you speak about including me and shit, it’s made it better, but it’s still there. This obelisk thing, it’s here to show me I gotta deal with it, or it’s always gonna be there.”

She nodded, opening her mouth to speak, but pausing, changing how she approached his worries. “Listen, I suppose I can tell you over and over that you’re the one I want, but that likely won’t change things for you until you live it and see it, see that I’m not going to run off with somebody else. I want you to remember that you are the one I want, the one I’ve chosen. I’m not even looking for anyone else. You’ll see.

“That thing there, well, my actions will be the metaphorical lump hammer that will demolish it, but you have work to do, too. I’m not about to alter my plans in order to meet your comfort levels or anything like that. Not that I think you would expect me to, but I’m just putting it out there that I won’t. You need to have faith in me that I’m very invested in a future with you.”

He took her words on board, feeling comforted by them, yet there the obelisk remained as he felt himself becoming pulled from the dream, leaving Keri standing beside it. A huge clap of thunder sounded just before he awoke, Angel opening his eyes with an uncomfortable grunt, his head pounding. Water. He needed water. And coffee shortly after.

“Oh, geez,” she murmured, Angel wincing a little at having woken her in an effort to untangle himself, Keri being very un-Keri like and waking when usually, it took much more effort than disentanglement to rouse her from slumber. “My head is saying no. No to everything.”

“We need fluids.” He rubbed his face with his hand, the other reaching to stroke her inner thigh. “Stay there, I’ll be back.” Oh, she would. She had absolutely no intention of moving. Looking over to the other couch across the room, she saw Frankie, smiling, thinking how cute it was that she’d fallen asleep with her head on Bishop’s thigh, the man himself with his head lolled back, snoring loudly. Rachel wasn’t anywhere to be seen, but she suspected that wherever she was, a certain large, heavily tattooed bald guy wouldn’t be too far away.

She lay there in a world of regret, groaning faintly, thankful to Angel for handing her a coffee and taking the large bottle of water he’d also found, drinking half of it before handing it back to him. Sitting down, he bound a half smoked blunt in the ashtray, lighting it up, knowing it was exactly what he needed, as well as the two painkillers Keri nudged him to place into his hand after rooting around in her bag. “I know you don’t smoke it, but if you wanted to change your mind, it’d kill your headache dead.”

She was thoughtful for a few moments, her brain virtually rattling in her skull. “Hand it over, you bad influence.” Taking a few puffs, she coughed harshly, taking a few more and steeling herself with some heavy swallowing and deep breaths, handing it back to Angel before slumping against his shoulder. “So, what a strange dream, huh? I meant what I said, though. It was kinda shocking to hear, that you’d have those kinds of insecurities. I mean, look at you! You’re hot as hell, you’re interesting, you’re funny, amazing in bed. You’re the total package.”

She knew he needed it, a little ego fluffing in light of being vulnerable with her. Her words came from a place of truth, though. It then dawned on her that part of Angel's confidence was likely borne of wanting to hide the part of him that wasn't so, the one that thought women would up and leave if presented with a better offer. She kicked herself a little, for not seeing it before.

His lopsided smile gave away much more than his eventual words. “If only I saw that all of the time, too. I guess I feel better for telling you. But fuck that damned obelisk, man, forcing me to speak up and shit.”

Her laugh was soft, a small burst of air through her nose as she turned her head to kiss his chest. “Shall we go and find food? I could eat my shoes, I’m so hungry.”

Ahh, she was just like him in that respect. Their hangovers dictated they should seek nourishment, rather than feel nauseated by the idea of sustenance. “That’s a damned good idea, mamas. Let me finish this coffee and we’ll go.”

“Alright,” she chirped, standing up. “I need to go wash my face off, I bet I look like I’ve melted.”

He puckered his lips at her, winking. “You look fucking hot, baby.” After seeing the state of her reflection, she appreciated his statement even more, her eyes smudged to hell, her foundation patchy, ugh. After a good scrub, she only felt like hell, though, rather than looking like it, too. Once finished, she went back out and gently shook Frankie’s arm, her friend rousing eventually.

Shooting up, a look of realisation flashed across her face. “Oh god! I fell asleep on a penis!”

Bishop was rumbling with laughter before he’d even opened his eyes, Keri exploding with a snort. “Well, that’s the first time anybody has ever said that about mine, I’m glad to say.” He paused for a moment, his grin spreading. “Was it at least comfortable?”

“Yeah, until it started poking me in the ear," she muttered, yawning, Angel overhearing and booming with laughter.

“Sorry if that gave you any trauma, as a woman who don’t favour cock,” he offered, pulling out his cigarettes, passing one to her before lighting his own.

“We’re good, dude. My head? Not so much. I need nicotine and water. Then more sleep. What about you, beets? How you doing over there?”

“Bad,” she confirmed, although Angel was right, her headache was beginning to die down. “We’re gonna go eat, but I know you won’t be ready for that until about six tonight, so I’ll leave you here.”

Frankie gave her the thumbs up, nodding, heaving a little at the thought of food. “I might do hair of the dog. Fuck it. You got any tomato juice here?”

Bishop nodded. “Yep, and Tabasco, because that’s how you make the best damned Bloody Mary, skip out the Worcestershire and go straight for the heat.”

“Let’s do this.” They both got up and headed to the bar, Keri returning to Angel, feeling a fraction more human after finishing her coffee and having a few more puffs on the blunt. Deciding they were likely both too over the limit still to drive, they took a walk instead, fuelling up on food and definitely feeling better, Bishop telling Angel when they returned that on account of his sore head, the yard would be staying closed, so he was free to do whatever.

Whatever consisted of heading back to his place and falling face first into bed, Frankie doing the same on the couch, curling under the provided blanket with a groan. Keri quickly called Rachel before shedding her clothes, receiving the panted statement of ‘banging, call me back later!’ At least someone was having fun.

This left her free to curl up around her boyfriend and fall asleep, her slumber dreamless. The only obelisk she had to deal with was the one belonging to Angel when she awoke five hours later, feeling his cock pressing against her hip. Now, there was a message she could deal with.

#angel reyes #angel reyes fanfiction #angel reyes imagine #angel reyes smut #angel reyes x ofc #mayans mc #mayans mc fanfiction #mayans mc imagine #mayans mc smut #mayans mc fanfic #mayans mc fic

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whirlybirbs · 3 years

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( chapter 6′s gif by @buckysbarnes from this lovely set ! )

✪ — VACANT MIRRORS ; B.B. | 6/?

summary: gunshot wounds, panic attacks, and evil next door neighbors.

pairing: bucky barnes / f!reader

tags: set before & during tfatws, friends to lovers, therapy positive, trauma healing techniques, ptsd mentions, the normalization of anxiety disorders, and a good ol’ slow burn

word count: 5.3k, a filler before the real sexual tension.

a/n: be warned, this chapter has a diy medical procedure where bucky removes the slug from rabbit’s shoulder. it’s nothing too graphic, but keep that in mind! also, i wanted to say thank you to everyone who has rec’d, reblogged, commented, kudos, liked, looked at this fic. the response to every chapter has been so overwhelmingly kind and i’m so thankful that i have the oppurtunity to share this fic with you all. that being said, i broke this chapter up. next week has some spice. ;-)

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Bucky wakes up with a headache that feels like someone’s tapped an icepick between his eyes. A fire-bright burn radiates under his ribs.

It’s a slow creep back to reality — he just lays there and stares at the peeling wallpaper that meets the corner of the ceiling for a while, knowing deep in the back of his muddled, confused thoughts that he most likely has a nasty concussion, maybe a few broken ribs.

How? Hm. Fighting. Music? The club.

Rabbit.

He sits up fast and Bucky’s blue eyes struggle to adjust in the low-light of the scarcely furnished apartment. The searing pang of his headache is enough to make his stomach churn, but he’s had worse. So much worse. This is manageable. So, he swallows down the nausea and looks around the room like a wounded animal — and almost immediately, relief greets him at the sight of you in the armchair across from the couch.

Your hair is a mess, falling from it’s previous style that you’d proudly worn to The Glass Cannon. Your lipstick is smeared, there’s glitter on your cheeks, and your make-up has transitioned from starlet beauty to broken-hearted bombshell. Bucky notices, with a bit of dismay, that you’re even missing an earring. There’s a nasty bruise forming along the peak of your cheekbone and a gash there from when Alexei had cracked you across the face with the pistol — and even despite all this, Bucky can feel his heart clench at the sight of you. A good clench. The sort that makes his heart kick into a stutter step.

You look… well, you look like someone who’d had the shit choked out of them and then was shot.

Shot.

Your jacket, punched clean through with the single bullet hole, is hanging over the back of the chair and there’s gauze taped to your shoulder. You’re leaning your good cheek in your hand, attention turned totally to Bucky, where you’ve fallen asleep. From here, you’re a picture of exhaustion.

Anxiety flashes in his heart and he swings his legs over the edge of the couch.

Suddenly, there’s a hand on his shoulder.

“Take it easy.”

It’s the woman from before, Kiwi, and she’s got an ice pack in her hands. It’s wrapped in a ratty, green dish towel, and she hands it off to Bucky with a pitiful little look. Rounding the couch, Bucky finally gets a better look at her.

She’s older than you, maybe by a handful of years, but sharp and beautiful nonetheless. Her hair is dark as night and the tips are drenched in a lime colored dye. Her eyes are dark, too, ringed by kohl and glitter, and Bucky wonders if he’s ever seen her before.

“You heal quick,” she says quietly as she plops down into the chair across the room. On a makeshift desk, there’s a laptop, “Care to explain how you know our dear friend Rabbit here?”

Bucky shifts uncomfortably. Again, his eyes fall on your sleeping form.

He maneuvers the ice pack in his hands, then gently presses it to his ribs. He melts a bit, ignoring the evident tears in the silk shirt. He feels bad — he’d busted some of the seams in the midst of the brutal scuffle and it seems like this artifact of Jaimie’s was most likely beyond salvation.

His dog tags jingle against his chest.

“Therapy,” Bucky croaks, “We, uh, we met in therapy.”

A new voice comes into the picture now, one that’s muffled by a mouthful of food.

“That’s cute.”

It’s the other one, Climber. He’s traded in his all-black, all-polyurethane outfit for an expensive looking t-shirt. Without the strobes, without the tunnel vision, Bucky can now see the intricate buzz cut that sits beneath the mountain of blue curls on his head. There are patterns buzzed into his tight-shave. He’s got a smile, too, the glimmers a little too artificially. Bucky spies crystals inset on his incisors between bites of what looks like a bowl of cereal with no milk. Spoon and all.

“I don’t think we’ve properly met,” Climber says as he plops down next to Bucky on the couch, “What’d you say your name was?”

A hand is jutted his way. Bucky blinks. He shakes it with his vibranium hand.

“I’m Bucky.”

“Well, I’m gay and you’re gorgeous,” he says candidly, giving it a good shake, “So, if that’s of any interest—”

“Can you please shut up, Climber?” comes an irritated rasp from you in your armchair. Bucky turns to watch as you raise your head and rub your eyes, “Christ, I just fell asleep.”

“And your little supersoldier just woke up,” Kiwi chirps from her preoccupation with the laptop and contents on it, “So why don’t you stop being a little baby and let him look at that gunshot wound.”

Bucky’s face falls flat. He drops the ice pack to the coffee table with a thwunk.

You sit up, gingerly trying to maneuver yourself so as to not bother both your ribs and your shoulder. It takes a moment, but finally you’re sitting up with only a dull ache of pain throbbing beneath your skin. Now, the real sting comes from the bitter look Bucky has pinned you with.

“You haven’t cleaned it yet?”

“The shits in the kitchen,” Kiwi waves at Bucky, as if to say told you so, “She fuckin’ refused to let me take care of it.”

“You’re going to get an infection if it stays in you any longer,” he snaps, standing to his feet, “Get up.”

“Kiwi isn’t exactly the most gentle person I know,” you manage to supply as an excuse as you move through the room, “And I know that thing isn’t coming out without a fight.”

He can feel the grey hairs coming in already.

You stand slowly, and Bucky looms behind you as you weave into the small apartment’s kitchen.

It’s barely lived in, but a few years ago it most definitely had life. Now, it’s mostly abandoned save for a few necessities. Kiwi had told you, a long time ago, about this spot — it was her parent’s place before the Snap. After the Blip, they ended up moving back to Massachusetts. Now abandoned by anyone seeking to really live in the one bedroom, it sits collecting dust until Kiwi inevitably needs it.

Like now.

“Up on the counter.”

You wince at his tone, but still thankful to be away from Kiwi and Climber’s prying eyes.

For the entire time Bucky had been out, you’d been subjected to a myriad of questions — all were fair, really, since Bucky did just bust out the Avenger-level super-moves on some Russian mafiosos for your sake, vibranium arm and all. The arm was really the biggest stuck point in the conversation as you tried your best to explain the nature of your relationship with the unconscious supersoldier on the couch. It was met with plenty of looks, both curious and skeptical.

You’re slow to hop up on the dusty marble countertop. From there, you watch Bucky poke through the kit that Kiwi had pulled from under the sink.

Then, with the calculated process of a man who has pulled one too many bullets from himself, Bucky slams the kit shut and wanders into the bathroom.

He returns with a pair of large tweezers. He’s silent as the dead as he rummages for a pan, fills it with water, and sets the gas burner on. He stares, watching the pot boil, as his foot taps against the floor.

You swallow down any comments.

There’s a clean towel beside you, and Bucky casually reached into the boiling water with his vibranium hand to retrieve the tweezers — whether or not he purposely ignored the pain is lost on you. You’re too busy anxiously spiraling into silence.

(He’s trying to ground himself, to feel something other than panic. It’s a mild spike, but it’s still panic. Because you’re hurt. Because you still have a fucking casing lodged in your shoulder and he doesn’t want anything bad to happen to you. Ever. Because he saw it happen and then it was black, and now that anxiousness is creeping in.)

Rubbing alcohol, tweezers, gauze, tape, and… Jack Daniel’s.

It’s from the top of the fridge. It’s got a layer of dust on it — and it’s unopened.

Bucky unceremoniously pops the cap and hands the open bottle to you.

You take it and pause.

Bucky’s gaze is cold.

“You’re gonna want to take a few swigs, Doll.”

You almost snarl. You take a long drink then, ignoring the burn of the whiskey down your throat. It’s only when you’ve had enough to nearly gag that you hand the bottle back and then hiss:

“Don’t call me Doll.”

He takes the bottle and unceremoniously slams it down on the counter.

His movements are rough as he washes his hands — and if Bucky was a better person, maybe he’d take a second and parse through why he was feeling so damn irritable. But, no, no, he could figure out that he was angry at himself and you and Alexei Gardzov and Innessa Sidrova and fucking… everyone because he can’t have any normal relationships in his life without there being bloodshed or pain or suffering. That was enough, and he didn’t want to dig deeper into the nipping fear of losing you, not now, not when he had a job to do—

You suck in a sharp breath when his fingers brush your collarbone. He gently moves the delicate strap of your bodysuit, ignoring the soft skin beneath, and pulls the gauze away from your shoulder.

Your jacket had taken most of the impact it seems. Bucky frowns deeply at the pink fibers clinging to the entry wound. It’s a nasty puckered bit of flesh, smeared with blood, right in the soft muscle of your left shoulder. The hole is a little smaller than a quarter — Bucky recognizes it as shot from a 9mm almost immediately. He’s taken a few of these in his days. He’s glad it wasn’t close range. The burns from the muzzle flash make for nasty scars. He’d know. He has one on his back, right above his hip.

Bucky’s jaw is tight. He’s gritting his back teeth. His headache throbs angrily behind his eyes.

Bucky leans, eyeing the wound carefully. His limited reaction is enough to spark a little light of bravery in your gut, and you move to look at the hole — only to find a vibranium hand rooting your jaw in place. It’s gentle enough as it recorrects the line of your gaze straight ahead. His thumb rests on the curve of your chin as his index climbs your jaw, and the vibranium is warm and cold all at once. It’s an odd sensation. Not bad, but not flesh.

You like it.

(You find your mind quickly flashing with the thought of what that hand would feel like in other places. You ignore it.)

Your eyes are stuck on Bucky.

He’s clearly upset — the pinch between his brows and the evident scowl on his lips is enough of an indication. The bridge of his nose is busted and there’s a bruise crawling under his left eye. The shirt you’d given him is a wreck, and as he bends to snatch up a rubbing alcohol soaked pad, the feeling of shame creeps up on you. The anxiousness that’s settled in the pit of your stomach doesn’t help.

Arguably, it exacerbates the symptom.

The whiskey is slow to make an impact.

But, when Bucky finally swipes the gauze across the wound, your ankles have begun to tingle and it isn’t blinding white pain you feel — not yet. It’s sharp and it feels like he’s touching your shoulder blade when he presses his fingers into the holes to clean the immediate area. That has you grimacing tightly.

His obsidian-hued hand holds your face still through it.

So, you opt to stare.

His arm reminds you of some pottery you’d seen back at the Museum of Modern Art once, on a school trip. In a dimly lit room, spotlights lit up a row of vases that had been gilded back together with gold-dusted sap. You’d sat there for nearly an hour, staring at those things. You can’t remember the name now, not while Bucky does one more pass across the wound. It started with a ‘k’. It was beautiful. You loved that exhibit. Why can’t you — fuck — remember the name? Kinsi… kinsigumi? Gumi. Kintsi —

You grit your teeth and grip the counter tightly. He pauses. You exhale.

You inhale.

Kintsugi.

The seams of his arm remind you of Kintsugi.

It’s beautiful.

Bucky’s eyes flit to yours. He sees your stare.

Maybe it’s the pain, or the half-cocked daze, but the look in your eyes is enough to spur an immediate reaction. Bucky scowls. He yanks his hand back, retreating to the supplies on the counter. He’s pulled, hard and fast, and now he seems miles away.

Quietly, and with a bit more chill than he intended, he speaks. “If it was making you nervous, you should have said something.”

It.

Your head snaps to him.

“What?” you ask, nearly incredulously.

He’s silent. He has the tweezers in his hand now.

Your eyes narrow critically — and instead of shame and anxiety, it’s hurt that flies off your tongue. It’s drenched in enough pain that Bucky hears it in the waver of your voice.

“You think I’m afraid of you?”

It’s nearly a whisper.

He swallows.

He ignores it. He has to. He doesn’t want to know the answer. Either way that conversation goes is enough to drag him into territory he can’t handle right now. Not when he needs to do this without his hands shaking.

“This is going to hurt.”

Your mouth is open — be it shock or anger, he’s not sure. Bucky, however, makes a point of ignoring your expression and your reaction by handing over the whiskey once more. You snatch it from his hands quickly. There’s a look on your face that makes his chest ache. With one last pass over him with your eyes, you take a long swig.

You feel like crying.

You won’t, though. Not now. Not while he does this.

You deserve this.

And holy fucking hell does it hurt. It’s like someone’s taken a hot poker and punctured your skin, then rotated it around and around and around. You can feel every time the tweezers touch the bullet because the metallic little click echoes in your chest. It’s enough to make your head spin, and you grit your teeth and close your eyes and try to breathe — but even after a handful of minutes, when Bucky finally retrieves the slug, there’s no relief. Just a desperate throb.

Your hands are shaking when you reach for the whiskey once more.

You do cry, finally, when Bucky packs the hole.

He rolls the gauze up tightly into a cylinder and, as gently as he can, pushes it in.

It’s a horrible choke of pain that you smother into your palm and pant through. It reminds you to breathe, and while you stare up at the water damage on the kitchen ceiling, Bucky tapes a square piece of gauze over the bruised wound and wraps your shoulder tightly. He takes his time, but there’s a curtness to his actions.

Finally, when he begins to clean up the mess of bloodied gauze, you speak.

“If you’re mad at me, then just say it.”

He snaps almost immediately, like a kicked dog. “And say what, Rabbit? That I almost lost you?”

Your mouth slips shut.

Bucky pauses what he’s doing. He drops the gauze onto the towel and he bares both hands against the counter top. He leans and exhales and drops his own head back — then, you can see his own waves of anxiety knocking him against the shore of composure. His eyes move back and forth, he inhales, and then after a long while he speaks.

It’s calmer. Not so horribly mean.

“You should have told me about Alexei.”

You go to speak — but he stops you.

“I mean really, really told me,” he explains, “Had I known he wanted your fucking head mounted on a spike, I would have kept you far away from that place.”

“We had to—”

“No,” he says sternly, standing up full height, “No, we didn’t. We never have to do anything that’s going to put you in danger. Never. I won’t do it again. You should have fuckin’ told me.”

You’re quiet.

“A few more inches to the right,” he says, gesturing to your throat with his finger. His eyes are expressive and he’s speaking like he’s lived this experience, “You’d be dead. Cold and dead and I’d be here, carrying the fucking guilt around with me because I wouldn’t have been able to do anything.”

His voice splinters at the end — but he’s moved to throw away the gauze and dump the tweezers in the sink. He can’t look at you as he says it, and you know that. Because, just like before, people like you and him have a hard time looking the truth in the eyes.

You slide off the counter.

Your heart is sad. It’s heavy and mournful and weighed down with guilt.

“Bucky.”

It’s soft. He’s scrubbing your blood from his hands.

He doesn’t turn around. He can’t. He can feel the prick of an anxious breakdown beginning to climb into his eyes. Instead, he scrubs and scrubs and scrubs and your blood is stuck in the plating of his hand and it’s not going to come out—

Think of what could have happened if it had been a few inches to the right. The arched spray. Blood everywhere. She can’t speak through the gargle, she’s going cold, she’s gone. And, like always, you’re alone again, Bucky.

Then, your hands are on his.

The touch is enough to stop him. It’s enough for him to move aside at the large, inset kitchen sink. You exhale slowly as you run the water a little warmer and gingerly run his hands under the tap. Your hands are smaller than his, a bit more delicate, and he’s stunned into a sharp silence at the feeling of your fingertips gently washing away the crimson blood.

You grab another dish towel from a drawer beside the stove.

Then, in the dim light of the kitchen, you take both his hands and dry them.

It’s the vibranium hand that you pay special attention to, though. And Bucky feels like a fucking idiot — just standing there, just watching as you run the rag between the gilded plating and use gentle pressure to get into the harder to reach spots. You turn it over, and you dry his knuckles.

You take your time.

You don’t look up when you speak. You’re focused. Almost reverent.

He doesn’t deserve this.

“I’m not afraid of you,” you say sternly.

His mouth is dry. “Rabbit…”

Bucky shifts on his feet and takes a deep inhale. He feels lightheaded.

The whiskey, and the closeness of the two of you, makes your skin warm. His whole nervous system feels like it’s on fire.

“I didn’t mean to stare, I don’t ever mean to,” you apologize as your hands still over his arm. He watches your irises trace the plating above his wrist. The rag is forgotten, its purpose null. Your words are heavy, and Bucky can hear a little shake in them as you swallow, “I just… think it’s beautiful.”

You’re beautiful.

Even now, blood-soaked and sweat-stained. With makeup running down your cheeks and your composure in shambles. Even now, on the run and apparently wanted, you’re incredibly beautiful. Bucky hates how easy it is to admit and how hard it is to keep off his tongue. It nearly gets the better of him. He watches your eyelashes flutter. When you look up at him, the world is suddenly drowned in honey.

“I’m sorry.”

You mean it.

Your bottom lip wobbles.

Bucky, immediately, regrets being so goddamn cold.

You were just trying to help — you were just trying to do the right thing.

“Stop it. Come here.”

The hug is the first time you can remember touching him like this. You think you’ll always remember it, too. It’s sturdy and warm and gentle and honest and you bury your face into the shoulder as his arms come up around your neck. He’s careful of your own injured shoulder, and his fingers find the base of your neck. Around his waist, your fingers dig into the back of his shirt. Both of you ground yourselves in the other’s arms, and for the first time in a handful of hours, you both find peace.

Quiet, sturdy, lovely peace.

And the two of you stay like that for a while in the quiet little kitchen.

It’s not until Climber’s voice rises from the living room that you’re pulled away from Bucky — and even then, your face linger inches from one another for a moment too long. Neither of you say a word, only swallow down confessions that could have been, and move on.

“Oh, girlie, you’re gonna wanna see this.”

Bucky frowns. With your brows knotted tightly together, you weave through the kitchen and back into the living room.

Kiwi has sat up and both her and Climber have their eyes on the bulky flat screen on the dust-covered entertainment center. It’s cable news, and as Climber leans to turn the television up, a picture of you flashes across the screen.

It’s a photo from your arrest six months ago.

“Local authorities are asking that anyone with information on the whereabouts of this young woman call the FBI’s anonymous tip line—”

“Is there a reward?” Climber whispers almost excitedly, eyes on the screen.

“—Authorities are offering $100,000 dollars to the person who provides enough information to lead up to this dangerous fugitive’s capture.”

“Dangerous fugitive?” hisses Bucky.

“A hundred thousand dollars?” cries Kiwi, “Who the fuck did you piss off?”

You inhale deeply as you wave your hands. “The bigger question is who the fuck knew I was going to The Glass Cannon last night. Because they’re looking for me — not you.”

You point at Bucky and the gears are turning in your head.

The pacing is almost immediate, and Bucky crosses his arms tightly as you begin to walk back and forth behind the full length couch that Climber is currently spread out on.

It’s cut short, though, by Kiwi’s laptop chiming successfully.

“Well,” she stands quickly, “I have a feeling that someone knows you’re onto them. And the facial recognition software just got a match. A three point one, too.”

Your eyes brighten.

You’d given Kiwi the photo of the young Innessa, with all her decorated furs and blonde curls. She’s laughing and she’s young and she’s in love and it’s hard for you to imagine a woman like her to be dangerous. While you’d made sure Bucky was propped up comfortably on the couch and then finally calmed down from the adrenaline high enough to get comfortable yourself, Kiwi had dug out the hard-drive she kept on her at all times and began pulling data from the Alexandria Library files.

It had been a handful of hours, so it was clear that Innessa had hid herself well in the vast, expansive database SHIELD kept for all those years while it was in operation.

Bucky is quick to gather behind Kiwi, eyes scanning the screen.

Sure enough, when you come to look at the photos pulled up on Kiwi’s screen, there’s a hit. There’s an identification card photo of an older woman, maybe in her forties, pulled up alongside the photo Bucky had given you. Her hair is no longer blonde, but deep auburn color. She’s marked as having worked with Rumlow — a supervisor of some sort. Makes sense. You didn’t need to see a picture of Crossbones to remember Brock. Even when you’d interned, he’d been infamous.

And that was when he was one of the good guys.

There’s a handful of other photos of her — candids, professional photos, and even one where she is shaking Tony Stark’s hand.

And in all of them, you see your next door neighbor Bonnie McLayne.

“Fuck.”

Bucky blinks. Kiwi turns to look at you over her shoulder.

Again, you speak. Your eyes are wide. You can’t look away from the screen.

“Fuck, fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”

“Rabbit…?”

“Fuck.”

Bucky’s face narrows considerably, confusion melting to make room for realization.

His voice is quiet.

“Do you know her?”

“Oh my god,” you say loudly, shaking your head and blinking, “Oh my fucking god, that’s my neighbor.”

Bucky can feel his whole face go clammy.

“The neighbor who—”

“—Who I showed your fucking picture to,” you nearly shriek, “Like it was some cute little matchmaking game!”

Immediately both hands are over your face as you throw your head back. Now, the pacing has begun, and like you’re being carried on autopilot, you begin to move back and forth and back and forth and—

“You don’t think she’d hurt Poke, do you?”

“Rabbit.”

“Oh god, oh god—”

Oh.

Oh, you’re having a panic attack.

Oh, that was quick. Brutally fast. Nearly immediate.

After all, she knows where your family lives. She gets Holiday cards from mom to give to you. She’s been your closest friend for nearly six years. But she’s not Bonnie, she’s Innessa fucking Sidrova. She’s seen you with Bucky. She knows — she knows a lot and you don’t know anything and you’re miles from home, from Poke, from Mom, from Ana… Oh, god, the baby. The baby.

“The baby.”

Bucky’s voice is level. “Rabbit, you gotta calm down.”

“I have to call my mom.”

“No,” Kiwi snaps immediately, “They’re going to be watching for your cell phone pings. No calls, no texting, none of it. And god forbid this woman is one step ahead of the FBI—”

“Oh, god.”

You gasp like a fish out of water, paralyzing fear sending you to lean against the back of the couch.

You claw at your chest and try to remember what Dr. Hart said about these sorts of moments. Square breathing. In and hold and out and hold. Again and again.

“Sit down,” Bucky says as he returns to your side, nearly sweeping you up long enough to plop you down into the armchair from before, “And do me a favor and breathe.”

The whiskey isn’t helping right now.

“I’m trying.”

Another gasped breath.

Climber and Kiwi watch.

Bucky shakes his head sternly, kneeling on one knee and snagging your hands. “Don’t try. Just do it. You can do it. Just follow my lead — you’re the sidekick, after all. Remember? C’mon. There’s the smile. Breathe.”

So you do.

In, hold. Out, hold. You draw a square with one hand on your jeans and hold onto Bucky’s with the other.

Again, in and hold. Out and hold.

And again.

And then, you just listen to Bucky’s breathing.

You’re not sure how long it takes — half an hour, ten minutes, who knows — but finally you’re able to calm the spiraling thoughts in your head. Finally, the loudness quiets down, you catch your breath, and the world isn’t falling apart. The bite of anxiety still remains in the hollow of your chest and Bucky can see that when you finally open your eyes and squeeze his hand.

There’s that look again between the two of you. The one from before, in the kitchen.

“Good?” he asks quietly, blue eyes swimming with some sort of emotion you can’t really pin down. Not now. Maybe, if you’d been a bit more collected, you would have seen it as infatuation. But, no. It’s just… nice.

You swallow and nod.

“Damn, girl,” says Climber from his spot on the couch, “Now I’m starting to get the whole therapy thing.”

“Thanks, dickhead.”

“That’s recent, isn’t it?” he asks, genuine worry crossing his face as he stands to gently pass a hand over your back, “I don’t remember it ever being this bad.”

Your face is sad. “I was just partying through it back then. Distraction was always the best method and then… When I had no more distractions and it was just me? Alone? And, psh, the accident with Jaimie? It got worse. So much worse.”

Climber’s eyes soften. “I’m sorry, bunny.”

You try to put on a brave face.

Bucky stands from in front of you and begins his own pacing. This one isn’t so much born out of anxious nature — but more of a tactical logic born out of keeping you safe.

This wasn’t exactly the turn he was expecting.

“You didn’t recognize her?” he asks after a moment, voice high and tight.

“I’m sorry,” you wave a hand, exasperated, “She doesn’t exactly look the same as she did in the 70s.”

Kiwi frowns at the screen. “Definitely botox.”

Bucky squints. He looks to you for an explanation.

You vaguely gesture to your face.

His brow lifts, he closes his eyes, and he sighs.

Kiwi is next to pipe up. “It explains why the feds are looking for you, especially if she saw you with the one man she knows is looking to hunt her down — so, I think it’s best the both of you lay low for a couple of days.”

“Not to mention,” Climber wags a finger, “Bucky the Babe over here did just piss off one the smaller Russian crime families in New York. So, there’s always that ontop of the evil Nazi-HYDRA-woman-next-door.”

You groan.

“Poke has enough food for a week,” Bucky says nearly reading your mind, “He’ll be fine.”

“So, what? We just wait here? Until something happens?”

“Sidrova is going to try and bait us out,” Bucky mutters, “She knows she can’t just disappear. She’s been settled for too long and we know too much. Engaging us in an altercation is how she’ll do it. Plus, I have a feeling she wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to shoot me in the knees after a few decades. So, we wait.”

“Few decades?” Kiwi whispers.

“How old are you?” Climber asks.

“Hundred and six.”

Both of them just blink at an unphased Bucky.

You sigh, finally standing on wobbly legs. “This feels like a bad idea. I’m just stating that for the record.”

“Better than her hunting the both of you down,” Kiwi supplies, “You can stay here. There’s cable, there’s booze, and there’s plenty of instant ramen to last you until winter.”

“Stale cereal, too.”

“Wait— where are you two going?” you ask, narrowing your eyes, “You’re leaving?”

“Keeping our hands clean,” Kiwi says, closing her laptop, “And letting you be the sidekick, bunny.”

The sadness in your heart grows a little heavier at those words, but there’s a little bit of pride in Kiwi’s tone. As she stands, she moves to wrap her arms around you in a gentle hug. Quietly, she murmurs into your hair.

“Your dad would be proud of you, y’know.”

Bucky watches.

Climber is next, and that hug is bigger, more brotherly, more like sunshine and less like autumn.

“Don’t be a stranger, Rabbit.”

“I’m sorry,” you blurt out as the two of them gather their belongings, “For dragging you both into this. But, thank you. You didn’t have to help me—”

“Yeah, we did,” Kiwi chirps as she knocks Bucky on the arm three times, “Keep her safe, aakarshak purush.”

The Hindi rolls off her tongue with ease.

Bucky laughs. “Bahut lamba.”

Kiwi pauses mid-step. She narrows her eyes. There’s a smile on her lips. “Your pronunciation isn’t bad.”

He shrugs plainly. “I get lunch almost everyday at the Indian place below my apartment, so. The owner has been teaching me some stuff on the side.”

An approving nod.

Kiwi hucks you the keys across the room.

She points at Bucky.

“I like him. Try not to fuck that up, eh?”

And then, the two of them are gone.

And it’s just you and Bucky in the empty apartment.

#vacant mirrors #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barns x you #bucky/reader #winter soldier x reader #mcu imagine #tfatws imagine #A LITTLE LATER THAN PROMISED BUT SHE IS HERE

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talesofstyles · 4 years

Text

Reconcile

happy christmas eve, you lot! i’ve got a little present for you. enjoy this 10,5k of nearly divorced harry trying to win his wife and bitter nine year old daughter back. oh and i threw in a little baby goat in the mix too since it’s set in the peak district and i just couldn’t resist 🥳

“Penny for your thoughts.”

He turned to look at her, who was giggling as she leaned closer to him. She was most definitely not a giggler sober, but he found out that a copious amount of alcohol could turn her into one. He felt slightly guilty knowing that she was going to be hungover as hell in the morning, but she was having a great time.

And so was he.

“I was just thinking about how great you are, how lucky I am to be sitting next to you right now and that you need to drink more water because otherwise, you’d be miserable tomorrow,” he says with a smile as he twisted the cap and handed her the bottle of water.

That goofy smile of hers turned into a gooey smile of affection. “That’s so sweet,” she murmured, taking a gulp of water and handed the bottle back to him so he could take some too. She then tilted her head, giving him a doe-eyed look and asked, “what else do you like about me?”

“Let’s see,” he put a finger to his chin and tapped. “Well, I love how kind and inclusive you are, how you always care about people and that you always see the good in everyone.”

Her smile grew sappier.

“Oh,” he gave her a sly grin. “I also love that thing you do with your tongue on the underside of my cock.”

She burst out laughing. But then she leaned even closer to him and whispered huskily in his ear, “I’ll do that very thing when we get back to the hotel.”

His eyes widened and he wanted nothing more than just to drag her back to their hotel suite and take up on her offer. But he’d promised her that he’d show her around Vegas since she’d never been before, and he wanted to keep that promise.

“Wanna know what I like about you?” She turned to him, still with a gooey smile on her face.

“Do I ever,” he smirked.

“I like that you’re hands down the kindest human I’ve ever met,” she began. “You’re genuine, and grounded. Funny too. I truly hit the jackpot with you. I’m the luckiest girl on earth.”

“Oh,” she added as an afterthought. “And you’re really good with your tongue.”

He wanted to laugh, because she always made him laugh. But he was still stuck on the fact that she thought she was lucky to be with him. He felt exactly the same way about her, like this was always meant to be.

“I wasn’t looking for this,” he admitted honestly. “I know it’s only been six weeks, but I really can’t imagine never having met you.”

“Me too,” her eyes were bright, shining with excitement. “It’s weird, right? Because I swear I’ve never felt such a deep connection with someone this quick.”

“Do you believe in soulmates?” He murmured. “That there’s a perfect person for everyone out there?”

She tilted her head. “Do you think that’s us?”

There was no hesitation in his answer. “I do think that might be us.”

“I think so too,” she said with a tender smile.

This was real.

He was overwhelmed with the understanding that she was his, and he never wanted to let her go.

So he suggested what any sane, semi-drunk man would at that moment. “We’re in Vegas. We should get married.”

***

Harry

Pulling into the drive of what used to be our holiday cottage, but is now where my wife and children live full-time without me, feels strange to me. There’s that moment of what feels like a homecoming—that sense of belonging somewhere where I feel safe, and I know my happiness is inside.

But now, for the first time in ten years, there’s a sense of detachment that I know I’ve got to put in place. It is why I need to take a moment or two in the car before I walk inside to sort myself out and put on a shield. A shield which lets me walk inside, and be okay with the fact that I don’t live there anymore even just for the holidays.

This charming little cottage, which can’t exactly be called little since it is quite spacious and has three bedrooms, has always been more of a second home rather than a holiday home for us. We used to come here often, sometimes even only for the weekends. I’ve always loved this place. Now, looking back, I realised that many of the happiest times during our marriage were spent in this home.

It was where we spent the first few weeks soaking in newlywed bliss after that whirlwind of a trip to Las Vegas when we decided out of nowhere to tie the knot. Then there were the sleepless nights with a wailing newborn, because even though both of our babies were born in London, we always whisked them off here to Bakewell shortly after so we were close enough that both sets of their grandparents could dote on them during the first few weeks of their lives.

After I exit the car, I walk up to the front door and ring the doorbell. I don’t feel comfortable walking in as I respect that this is YN’s sanctuary now. The wait isn’t long, because in just a few seconds, the door is opened and there’s my wife, looking like a breath of fresh air.

It had been eight long months since the last time I saw her. Last time was the night when she asked me to leave our marital home, and I fled to LA first thing the next morning. I talked daily with the kids on the phone, but I didn’t really recall ever getting the chance to talk to her aside from the quick polite greetings before she handed her phone to the kids.

“Hey,” she says, her expression a bit guarded. I’ve missed her so much that it takes everything in me to keep myself from pulling her into my arms and kiss the fuck out of her. “Come in.”

“You alright?” I ask her as I follow her into the house. This may sound like I’m just making a small talk, but I’m not. I’m genuinely curious and I want to know how she’s doing.

But she doesn’t even respond to my question. All I get is a head-tilt motioning towards the kitchen. “They’re in the kitchen.”

My gaze immediately lands on the accent table that holds a lot of photos and a key bowl. I silently let out a sigh of relief seeing YN hasn’t removed all of the family photos with me in it. It’s a good sign, but I don’t have much hope behind that. Maybe that’s just her trying to keep everything as normal as possible at home for the kids.

My wife and I never had a big fight when we separated. It had been somewhat rational, but still emotional, discussion. She wasn’t angry, she was just done. And I didn’t fight for her. Instead, yours truly here walked away the next morning and didn’t look back.

I’ve done a lot of dumb things in my life. But nothing ever compares to that. That was pretty fucking stupid on my part, and I know I’ll regret it for the rest of my life.

I’ve accepted that maybe this is my punishment for being a shit husband to a wonderful woman who doesn’t deserve to be treated like a second best. She did the right thing by kicking me to the curb, and I’d never resent her for it. If I could turn back time and change everything, I would in a heartbeat. I’d try harder to be a better husband, a better father, put my family first. But I can’t. Now all I can do is just try not to be a dickhead and make things harder for her than it already is. It’s too late for me to try to be a better husband, but it isn’t for me to try to be the best father that my children deserve.

I follow my wife through the living room and into the kitchen, and I’d be dead not to check out her arse in those leggings. It’s something I quickly avert my eyes from, though, as I realise both of my children are sitting at the kitchen island, eating scones with their tea.

George, my six-year-old, is the first to turn his head and hop off from the island stool to jump into my arms. “Daddeeeeee!”

“My Booger Butt,” I greet my little lad with a smile as I squat down to be on his level before scooping him up into my arms. Booger Butt is one of the countless nicknames I have for him, and one that never fails to make him double over in laughter whenever he hears it. He’s also Mr Tadpole Climbing a Beanpole sometimes, and he used to be Sir Screams-a-Lot when he was a baby. He thinks they’re hilarious, and he’d always respond by calling me Baddy Daddy.

“I‘ve missed you so much, Baddy Daddy,” he says sweetly as he nuzzles his head into the crook of my neck and I swear if I don’t pull myself together right this second, I’m going to cry.

“I’ve missed you more, mate,” I say as I ruffle his hair and kiss his cheek. “I love you.”

My daughter doesn’t seem fazed by the father and son reunion behind her and continues munching on her scone without even giving me a glance. With my left arm full of my son, I walk up to her and ruffle her hair just like I did with her little brother. “Hey Silly Putty Pudding Pie,” I greet her with one of her nicknames, hoping to get her to laugh. But she ignores me, taking a sip of her brew instead.

I don’t want to give up, so I lean to the side and bend to put my face close to hers. I try again, “hello to you too, poppet.”

“Whatever,” she mumbles around a mouthful of scone.

“Minnie,” YN growls, her tone filled with warning.

This is why I respect YN so much. I hurt her badly, broke her heart, and it would’ve been so easy for her to use Minnie as a pawn and turn my child against me. But every time, even on the phone, whenever she is present, she never let Minnie be disrespectful to me in any way.

My gaze moves to my wife—yes I’m still going to refer to her as my wife since she still is, albeit only on paper—and she gives me an apologetic look. I give a slight shake of my head, telling her silently to let it go.

She takes the last bite of her scone and puts the dish in the sink, before walking to the staircase without giving me a second glance. I can see YN trying to hold her tongue from further rebuking our daughter, and I give her a small smile, my silent way of telling her ‘it’s okay.’

“Sorry about that,” she mutters, referring to Minnie’s attitude. She grabs a mug from the cupboard, then holds it up in silent invitation. I nod, and she turns to the pot. “I can’t keep up with her mood shifts anymore.”

“It’s alright,” I tell her, willing to take my share of the blame. “I’m sure the shift has everything to do with me.”

“Not true,” she replies as she pours the coffee into our mugs, adding a splash of milk to hers but keeping mine just like that because she knows I take my coffee black. “She’s been like that with me as well and I’m not sure why. She’s only nine but she acts as if she’s thirteen already.”

I can’t help but laugh and turn to my little lad. “Can you be six forever?”

“No,” he says immediately without even taking a second to think.

“Just no?”

“No,” he gives me a toothy grin. “I want a lego city set but mummy said it’s for eight-year-olds. So I cannot wait to be eight.”

I set him on the counter and give him a conspiratorial smirk before I whisper to him. It’s a little too loud to be considered a whisper, but I want my wife to hear it. “Tell you what, we’ll get one of those sets tomorrow on our day out.”

His eyes light up instantly and my wife rolls her eyes jokingly, “I hear that.” Jokingly, because I know for sure she doesn’t mind me spoiling our children. She does it too.

“Where are you taking them tomorrow?”

“To your mum’s pudding shop for breakfast, then probably fishing, and the toys shop now apparently,” I tell her our itinerary. I have the kids for the whole day tomorrow since it’s Saturday. It’s bittersweet because I’ve missed my children and I can’t wait to spend time with them, but I’m also sad because what I wouldn’t give to turn tomorrow into a family day out instead. I know she would most likely decline, but I can’t help offer her, “would you like to come with us?”

She gives me a subtle shake of her head. “No thanks. Enjoy it, it’s your time with them.”

***

I’m renting a room above The Old Nags Head during my stay here. I plan to stay for a week before I have to go back to London, and even though the thought of having to leave my children again is killing me, I’m trying to cheer myself up by reminding myself that it’ll be Christmas soon enough and I’ll get to visit again.

But then I’ll have to leave again.

And visit again, but knowing in just a week or two, I would have to say goodbye to them again.

Fuck, this is killing me. I’m a family man through and through, and not being with them physically hurts. I shouldn’t be in this room sulking alone. I should be there in that home with my wife and children, probably helping Minnie and George with their homework or making dinner for all of us.

I was prepared to sulk some more, but then I heard a knock on the door. I was not expecting company so I’ve got no idea who it is, and I’m quite surprised when I see Jamie, YN’s brother as I open the door.

We were quite close, but now that I broke his little sister’s heart, I can’t tell if this is a pleasant visit or if he’s just here to knock me square on my arse.

“Got time for tea downstairs?” He asks

Honestly, I haven’t got any appetite. But I could use a few pints so I nod and lock the door behind me, following him downstairs to the pub.

The Old Nags Head is the oldest and most famous pub in Bakewell. The pub itself is a former smithy dating back to the 16th century, and certainly looks the part; thick stone walls, low ceilings, welcoming log fires and dark timber beams. The pub remains at the centre of the community, as it has been for hundreds of years. It offers the best classic pub grubs, and even has its own ale called the Nags 1577.

It’s the perfect place to drown my sorrows.

Except, the current owner of that very pub happens to be none other than my wife’s granddad whom everyone here calls Pop. Out of all members of her family, she is the closest to Pop, so I know for sure that I’m the last person he wants to see.

We sit at the bar table facing the window, which is good because Pop is behind the main bar, and this way I don’t have to actually talk to him.

“Ya want owt?” Jamie asks as he does a quick perusal of the menu. I’m not even sure why he bothers, because even I know what he’s going to order. It’s Pop’s signature steak and ale pie. Ten years of being his brother in law, not once I ever saw him order something else.

“Just a pint,” I tell him.

It doesn’t take long after Jamie orders his food and our drinks before two pints are placed before us, and we each take a savouring sip.

And then Jamie point-blank asks me, “so what did you do?”

I really can’t tell anything from his expression, because he keeps his face blank. But I give him a bark of mirthless laughter. “It’s what I didn’t do, mate. She didn’t say anything?”

“Not a word,” he shakes his head, “what didn’t you do?”

“I stopped paying attention to my wife. Got caught up in my career. The travelling for tours she understood, but it was when I was home and hanging out more with my bandmates than with my family that she couldn’t forgive. And what little time I had left, I gave to Minnie and George. I think I just stupidly assumed she would always be there for me, no matter what.”

“Was there any infidelity?” He asks.

“God, no,” I shake my head hard. “You know I’d never do that to your sister. I love her, and she’s more than enough for me.”

Obviously, I’m not going to tell him this, but ironically, our sex life didn’t diminish. We were combustible in bed, and my mistake was in thinking that was enough for her.

I look at the pudding shop right across the street as I take another sip, and I nearly choke on my beer when I see a familiar face walking out of the shop.

“What in the ever-loving fuck?” I growl.

That’s my wife, walking out of her mum’s pudding shop. She is not alone. There’s a guy with his hand pressed to her lower back while her head is tipped back, laughing at something he’s saying. I suddenly feel sick to my stomach when the bastard’s palm drops from my wife’s back to take her hand, lacing his fingers with hers. She smiles, all doe-eyed, as they walk to God knows where.

“What?” Jamie looks at me confused for a second, but then he follows my gaze and he finally sees what’s causing me distress. “Oh, that.”

“You knew about that?”

He nods. “She’s been seeing him for about three weeks now.”

“Fuck,” I mutter and pinch the bridge of my nose.

“She didn’t tell you?” Jamie asks and I shake my head.

“Three weeks you said?”

Jamie nods again. “He makes her happy.”

“I’m her husband,” I can’t help but say bitterly. “I should be the one making her happy.”

“Look, I’m sorry mate,” he offers, I know he’s trying his best to keep his tone neutral. “Maybe you need to get back in the dating game too. It’ll distract you.”

“I don’t want to fucking date anyone else,” I growl.

“I know it’s hard to get back in the saddle,” he adds sympathetically.

“I don’t want to get out of my current saddle,” I grumble. “I want to keep my current saddle with my wife in it.”

Jamie blinks in surprise, hell I’m even surprised at what I’ve just said out loud because I’ve never admitted this since we split. When YN asked me to leave, I assumed right away that my marriage was over. I didn’t want it to, but I thought there was nothing I could do.

But now, seeing her laughing at another man’s joke and his hand holding hers, I just know that I can’t let her go without a fight.

“Have you told her this?” He asks curiously.

I shake my head again. “We haven’t got the chance to have a civil conversation these days.”

“Then I suggest you stop being such a bloody whinge bucket and have a civil conversation with your wife.”

My shoulders immediately sag in defeat. “I know. I need to sit down with her and tell her how I feel.”

“Which is?” He presses.

“That I want her back,” I mutter.

“You’ve got to have a better plan than that,” he points out. “I mean… I’m not a marriage therapist, but I’m pretty sure that you’ve got to be prepared to fix the shit first.”

I can’t help but tilt my head towards the pudding shop where my wife had just walked out the door. “She’s moved on. You said it yourself that he makes her happy. Tell me how to compete with that.”

“Make her happier,” he says simply. I can only let out a heavy sigh, but I know that's solid advice. “Listen, if you really want to save your marriage, you need to make it work. Romance her again. Lots of flowers, nice romantic dinners out. Compliments, chocolates. All that sort of thing.”

“You think that’ll work?”

“I don’t know,” he answers truthfully. “But I do know that you’ll regret it for the rest of your life if you don’t do anything about it.”

***

My emotions are a mixed bag this morning. Don’t get me wrong, I’m excited to spend the whole day with my kids, but the fact that I have just learnt last night that my wife is currently seeing another man doesn’t sit right with me.

I know Jamie was right. If I want to save my marriage, I need to get my head out of my arse and do something to win my wife back. Sure, I don’t even know where to start since she doesn’t give me the time of day. But I do know that starting today, I’m a man on a mission. It’s Operation Conquer YN: day 1.

It’s currently 8:40am, which means I’m twenty minutes early. I hope the kids won’t be ready yet, so I’ll get a chance to talk for a little bit to my wife.

When I ring the doorbell, I can hear George pounding down the stairs, yelling, “I got it!”

The door flies open and he jumps into my arms right away. My little lad truly misses me, and it really does warm my heart. Now, I love my children equally, but before I got here yesterday, I thought Minnie would be the one to jump all over me since she’s a daddy’s girl through and through, while George has always been a mummy’s boy since the day he was born.

But again, I should’ve known. Since YN and I split, Minnie sort of puts herself in her mum’s corner. Every time I actually got the chance to talk to her on the phone when I was still in LA, it was always extremely short before she quickly handed her mum’s phone to her little brother. I try not to take her behaviour to heart, because I guess it’s what nine-year-olds do when they don’t quite understand why their parents aren’t together. They just need someone to blame, and my daughter is way more mature than her age. She’s bloody smart too, which she definitely takes after her mum, and I know that she knows it’s my fault that her mum and I separated.

Now that I think of it, it’s not just my wife that I desperately need to win back. But also my daughter.

“Daddy!” George chirps. He’s got a milk moustache and the sight never fails to get me to chuckle. “You’re early.”

“I know,” I reply with a tender smile. “I just can’t wait to spend the day with you lot.”

“I’m going to get ready!” He announces excitedly as he squirms in my arms wanting to be put down, and he runs up the stairs before I can even reply.

I look around, and my gaze lands on the sofa, a hazel leather sofa that YN picked out. It’s so comfy and I could nap there forever.

Then there’s the coffee table, where YN, Minnie, George and I sat around and played board games. Catan is our family’s favourite, followed closely by Monopoly.

The corner where we always put the Christmas tree, right next to the fireplace. And every year it didn’t matter how hard I tried, I could never get the bloody thing to stay straight.

I miss this little cottage. Sure, the house in South Kensington is our marital house, but this cosy little cottage in the middle of nowhere feels more like home to me. And now I truly get why YN was so adamant to move here permanently after we separated, didn't matter how hard I tried to persuade her to stay in London.

“You’re early,” my wife blinks in surprise, but quickly masks it. “Minnie darling, go and get ready.”

“Do I really have to go?” My nine-year-old whines and I feel a pang. She really doesn’t want to spend time with me.

“Minnie, that’s not nice,” YN reprimands her before I can stop her.

“I’ve missed you, poppet,” I say, wanting to look at her in the eyes but she refuses to meet my gaze. Which hurts, but it’s fine. I know it’ll take some time for her to warm up to me. “I want to spend the day with you and your brother. I promise I’ll try to make it fun for you both.”

“Fine,” she replies, before marching up the stairs to her room. There’s still a hint of sulkiness in her tone, but at least I didn’t get a heavy sigh. I know it’s a small win but honestly, it’s better than none.

“Coffee’s in the pot,” she tells me politely from where she’s sitting at the island. She has her laptop open before her, and I can see her writing an email. I bet she’s working today, even if it’s Saturday, because my wife is such a hard-worker. She works remotely for a consulting firm and I’m beyond proud of her.

I nod and pour the coffee, and I let the silence carry on for a bit before saying, “saw you getting cosy with your new boyfriend last night.”

She instantly looks up from her laptop, giving me a death glare. Her tone is defensive when she says, “that’s none of your business.”

“You could’ve at least told me that you were seeing someone,” I tell her, making elaborate gestures with my coffee mug.

“Why would I do that?” She retorts defensively. “Last time I checked, you didn’t give a shit about me when we were married. Why on earth would I assume you do now?”

Hearing that, it feels like Chuck Norris himself just kicked me in the nuts. I can only mutter, “we’re still married.”

“Not for long,” she replies faintly.

“Don’t say that,” I say, my breath a little jagged. “We can still fix this, darling. I know we can.”

“Are you mad?” She snaps, but then she takes a deep breath, and her tone is a lot calmer when she adds, “Harry, it’s too late.”

“No, it’s not. It’s never too late to get our marriage back on track,” I plead desperately. “Would you at least give me a shot?”

“What do you mean?” She frowns.

“You can continue to see Mr Wife-stealer-”

“He’s not a wife-stealer,” she snaps, cutting me off. “He’s got a name.”

“Well, he’s stealing my wife,” I grumble like a stroppy child.

“You’re being such a child,” she retorts. “His name is Luke, he’s a decent guy, and he makes me happy.”

“I’m not afraid to go head to head with him,” I say defiantly.

“Fuck’s sake, Harry, we’re not on a bloody Love Island,” she says in exasperation. “Two children are involved here, this isn’t a game.”

“I know it isn’t,” I reply with a sigh. “Just please give me another shot, darling. Let me remind you how great we were together.”

“You mean the sex?” She demands, one side of her upper lip curls in a sneer.

I bend my head and murmur, “we were dynamite in the sack, weren’t we?”

I see the flash in her eyes as she remembers, and it makes me want to beat my chest in victory. But the euphoric feeling is short-lived when she says, “a relationship is so much more than just sex. If you don’t understand it then-”

“I do, fuck, I do know that,” I cut her off in a strangled, desperate voice. “At least let me try, darling. Fuck if I’m letting you go without a fight.”

We lapse into silence as she gives me a sceptical look, and I know in this moment that my biggest challenge is to regain her trust, as well as accepting the fact that she has someone else fighting for her attention.

I know this will be tough, because I let her down over and over again. And worse, I let my children down too, because I was never quite able to make my family my highest priority. It was all my fault, I knew it then, still do now. That’s why when she asked me to leave, I couldn’t even argue. I was a shit husband and father, and I deserved that.

Trying to win Minnie is probably going to be the easiest because beneath this ‘tweenage’ attitude going on, I know she is a sweet girl who loves her daddy. I need to devote more attention to her, maybe take her on some daddy-daughter dates. I know it’ll work because I’ve never given her enough on a consistent basis.

YN is going to be the most difficult, because I really broke her heart. I’ve been married to her for ten years, so I can say with confidence that I know for sure she would never fall for things like flowers or gifts. I have to show her that I genuinely want to fix our marriage, and that my interest in her is real. It’ll be like starting all over again.

And on top of that, she’s seeing someone else and she said it herself that he does make her happy. I know she’s not lying about it, as Jamie also told me the same thing last night and I saw with my own eyes how she laughed with him last night. Seeing that killed me, because I don’t have the ability to make her laugh like that anymore, but I couldn’t deny that there was a small part of me that was happy for her.

She may have sneered when I insinuated I’d be glad to remind her of the good times, but I saw it in her eyes. There was still a slight burn, and that might just have to be my angle.

But then I remember our last time together. It was only two days before she asked me to leave and I remember coming home mid-morning after a meeting with my manager and publicist to find her lying in our bed, clad in sexy lingerie. I had my mouth on every inch of her, a good deal of time between her legs, and after she reciprocated by taking me into her mouth.

The kids were in school, and apparently, she took a sick day because I had told her the night before that I only had one meeting in the morning that day. After, she cuddled in close, and we talked for a while. She seemed happy, but then there was a hint of hesitation in her voice when she suggested, “fancy just spending all day in bed until school pick-ups?”

I mean, what man in his right mind would say no to that? The kids were gone for at least another five hours, I had a gorgeous wife naked and wanting more of what we just did…

Yet, I’d said no. “Sorry, doll. I’m meeting the lads at the studio in about an hour.”

I didn’t see it then, but I do now and it’s clear as day. The look on her face had been blank, and there wasn’t even disappointment like she would usually show me. She hadn’t tried to get me to change my mind. There hadn’t been a guilt-laden frown to give me pause.

I realise now what it was.

It was the moment my wife finally gave up on me.

My chest constricts as it finally dawns on me the pain she must have been feeling. I’m not just talking about that day. That had been our life for several years.

No wonder she asked me to leave.

No wonder she’s moving on with Mr Wife-stealer.

No wonder that, at this moment, I realise I’ve got tons of work to do because sex isn’t going to be the answer in winning my wife back.

***

“Will the baby just eat when you give it the bottle?” Minnie asks her uncle Jamie as the four of us gaze at the baby goat in front of us. For the first time since yesterday, I actually see the slight curve up of lips that form a fond smile. Seeing that smile on my daughter’s face, I’m glad we didn’t go fishing and end up going to the barn instead. We were actually already on our way, but Jamie texted me that the mother goat had given birth this morning, and he wanted me to tell Minnie and George. The goats are a new addition to the farm, so they have been so excited to see baby goats. I knew from the look in their eyes that they would have a much better time seeing baby goats rather than fishing.

It turns out that there’s only one baby goat, because the other one sadly didn’t make it. And the dam isn’t producing milk, so the kid needs to be bottle-fed until the mother is producing again. I can’t help but smile fondly at the baby goat too because it’s adorable. It’s a soft little white goat with a pink nose and ears. The dam is a Pygmy but since it has blue eyes, Jamie thinks she must have Nigerian Dwarf genes somewhere in her.

“It’s a female… a doeling,” Jamie tells her. “And she will if she’s hungry. You want to try to feed her? Look, she’s hungry again.”

We watch for a moment as the baby goat walks on wobbly legs, bleating in hunger. Jamie mixes the powdered formula and makes a bottle for her, then he hands the bottle to Minnie.

But Minnie shakes her head. “Maybe next time. I want to see you do it first.”

“Alright then,” Jamie nods, then turns towards my little lad. “How about you, mate? Wanna feed her?”

“No thank you,” says George as he shakes his head, and then he giggles, “she smells funny.”

“Can I do it?” I ask and Jamie nods as he hands me the bottle.

I sit down against the wall with my children sitting on either side of me. And as if the goat can sense that I hold the key to filling her empty belly, the doeling starts to prance in excitement and falls over a few times due to what I assume is clumsiness. I love that she can walk normally but still choose chaos—honestly, she could’ve been my third child. There’s no stopping the surge of fondness that swells within me as I watch her little antics.

“Come here little crumpet,” I coo at the goat.

The little goat scrambles right onto my lap, bleating hungrily. I wrap my arm around her and tip the bottle. She latches on instantly, and Minnie and George are aww-ing and ooh-ing over the way the baby goat’s little tail swishes back and forth so fast in ecstatic happiness as she drinks her milk.

“You’re a hungry little thing, aren’t you?” Minnie murmurs and the little tail swishes faster as she pushes at the bottle to suck the milk down faster. “What’s her name, uncle Jamie?”

“I haven’t named her yet,” Jamie says. “What do you lot think we should call her?”

“Blue,” George suggests instantly, without looking away from the baby goat on my lap.

“Ooh, I like it,” Minnie adds. “Like her eyes.”

“Blue it is, then,” Jamie grins. “Now, even though the dam is still not producing milk, we still need to train her to at least try to nurse, so she’ll do it right away when the dam is finally producing milk. Let’s see if we can get her to try to eat from the dam.”

He plucks the baby from my arms, and a series of yearning bleats come from the kid as he carries her to her mother. He places her near the dam’s udders and gives the baby a gentle push.

Much to our surprise, Blue spins away from Jamie and her mother and runs back to me. Although in all fairness, I am holding the bottle she was just drinking from. Jamie attempts three more times to get the baby to try to nurse from her mother, but she’s having none of it.

Finally, he takes the bottle from me and walks across to the opposite wall. He sits down, holds the bottle out, and calls to the doeling. “Come here, baby. Come eat.”

Blue’s tail gives a few nervous twitches, but she doesn’t move towards Jamie. In fact, she takes a few hesitant steps backwards until she bumps into my legs. I’m amazed as I watch her stare hungrily at the bottle, bleating hungrily, but refusing to go to Jamie.

“Daddy, she thinks you’re her mummy,” says George and both my children burst in laughter.

“What?” I say in astonishment.

“I don’t think that doeling is going to feed from anyone but you,” Jamie adds with a chuckle as he stands up. He walks over and hands me the bottle. Blue jumps directly into my lap.

On autopilot, I offer the goat the nipple but look up to Jamie in panic. “What should we do?”

“Dunno, I’ll just try and do it when she’s hungry again in a few hours,” he shrugs. “But if she still doesn’t wanna eat, I’ll bring her to you.”

Any last vestiges of humour, happiness and downright giddiness over the cuteness of a baby goat fades as I realise I might or might not have just added another task to my list. Heavens help me.

***

“Let’s have a daddy and daughter date tomorrow.”

It’s a solid suggestion, and I really hope she’d say yes. Her little brother has his classmate’s birthday party to go to, so I know it’d be perfect for a little one-on-one time.

We’re on our way back home after spending a whole day together. It was great, and even though I didn’t have happy-go-lucky Minnie, George had a great time, and it was enough for me. And at least she didn’t ask to go home early, so I’d call that a win.

“No, thanks,” she replies. There’s still not a hint of sulkiness in her tone, but it doesn’t sound technically warm either.

I glance over through the rear-view mirror as she stares out the window with her arms folded. Her brother is sleeping next to her, and I figured this might be a good time to talk since she’s trapped in the car with me.

Everyone always says that Minnie is a mini-me, while George is a carbon-copy of his mum. Minnie has my nose, eyebrows, chin, even my smile; which is slightly lopsided and has a dimple on one side. I know I’m biased, but she truly is the most beautiful little girl I’ve ever seen.

Where Minnie shines, though, is her personality, which is a combination of her mum and me. She has her mum’s sunny disposition—aside from the days where she’s got a bag on—and always sees the good in everyone. She’s our little ray of sunshine, tender and caring and always trying to make others feel good.

From me, she gets her stubbornness, which even though I know is a good trait to have when she’s older, it made things so much harder when she was a toddler. She also has my terrible sense of humour, but the thing I’m most proud of is her work ethic. I can’t take full credit for that though, because her mother is a hard worker as well.

Ever since she started distancing herself from me, I know which subjects are safe, and which are not. School always falls in the safe category, because she enjoys it and excels. So I figure now that’s where I should start. “How’s school going?”

“Alright,” she replies, still looking out the window.

Now, this really doesn’t sound at all like my daughter.

“Come on, Min,” I say desperately. “Tell daddy what’s been eating you. I can’t help if I don’t know what it is.”

“It’s nothing, I’m fine,” she says absently.

“Do you want to go and get some ice cream with me tomorrow?” That was our thing at least once every two weeks and she loved it.

“No, thank you.”

“Ice skating?”

“No, thank you.”

“Oh I know,” I say excitedly. “I’ve got a show in London in a couple of weeks, Jingle Ball. Do you want to come with me?”

Minnie has always been my biggest fan, clapping the hardest and yelling the loudest for her daddy. So it really takes me by surprise when she mutters, “shows, shows, shows… that’s all you care about, dad.”

I twist to peer out my window so she doesn’t see the wince that comes unbidden to my face if she looks through the mirror. That was a direct slam against me.

That really does hurt, and I rub at the throb of pain behind my breastbone.

“That’s not true,” I reply faintly.

“Did you care about my last ballet recital?”

Early this year, Minnie had a ballet recital. She was so excited about it because I had just finished my tour in December last year, and I’d already told my management that I would like a couple of months off. There was no reason for me not to attend, so I promised her I’d be there.

Except at the last moment, I realised I had forgot to switch an important meeting I had with the team from the new Manchester Arena. Since I invested in it, we had a meeting every few months because I said right from the beginning that I would take more than just a capital interest. I wanted to be involved in the development, because that was a huge project and I was really proud of it.

YN was in charge of our schedule and when she reminded me about the recital, which conflicted directly with my meeting, we ended up getting in the worst row we’ve ever had throughout our marriage.

“You’re going to let our daughter down in a way she won’t forgive,” she stated.

I refused to believe that, brushing off her comment with “I’ll take her out for something special later.” But my wife turned and stalked away from me.

That day, the meeting went great and the construction was almost done a few weeks earlier than intended, so there was an option if we wanted to open sooner. YN sent me a text with a video of Minnie’s performance, and it was beautiful. I was such a proud dad that I showed the video to everyone in that room.

When I got home, my wife and children cuddled on the sofa, watching a film. George was snoozing with his head on his mum’s lap on the far end, so I plopped myself down beside Minnie. I tugged on her hair playfully, and asked if she wanted to go out to a special daddy-daughter dinner to celebrate her recital.

“No, thank you,” she replied quietly, not taking her eyes off the telly.

“Come on, poppet,” I coaxed, trying to tickle her in the ribs a little. She only squirmed closer to her mum, not laughing from the tickle but grimacing like she didn’t want to be touched.

YN stared over Minnie with sorrow in her eyes. She gave a tiny shake of her head, but I wasn’t ready to give up.

“The Ivy?” I tried to tempt her because my kid loves chips, and she’s obsessed with their truffle and parmesan chips.

“No, thank you,” she muttered again, her head resting on her mum’s shoulder and her arm crossed over her middle. YN cuddled her with an arm around her shoulder. It had been clear that they were a unit, and I hadn’t been included.

“Minnie decided she wants to stop ballet lessons, so that was her last recital.”

“Oh,” I’d replied dumbly.

I couldn’t think of another damn thing to say because to do so would be disingenuous. There’s no doubt I killed my daughter’s potential love of ballet by not coming to her recital. I knew that because of YN’s expression of disappointment and Minnie’s dull dismissal.

Later that night, I walked by Minnie’s room and glanced in as the door was slightly open. I had bought her a bouquet of flowers that I gave her before I left for my meeting, and I saw that they’d been stuffed into the bin beside her desk.

I blink out of that memory, feeling the heavy weight of guilt. “Of course I did, my love. If I knew-”

“But not enough to come,” she replies dully. “And what about my debate competition? George’s piano recital? You showed up to none of them.”

I sigh heavily. “Minnie, a lot of parents have demanding jobs where they’re required to work or travel more than others. Sometimes A&E doctors have to work on Christmas and cannot see their children open the presents. Sometimes, a firefighter has to leave their house at night and can’t tuck their kids in bed.”

“I understand that,” she whirls and looks at me through the rear-view mirror. “Except you’re not saving lives or fighting fires, are you? You just get up on a stage and sing.”

“I’m a terrible dad, aren’t I?” I concede. “I know I’ve done things wrong in the past, but I’m trying to make it up to you, poppet. But I can’t do it if you won’t let me.”

She doesn’t say anything and it’s killing me. “You know I love you, right?”

“I know,” she rushes to assure me and I feel a little lighter. My daughter may act like a tween and have some bitter feelings towards me, but she loves me.

“I don’t like seeing you like this,” I continue. “Tell me how to make it up to you and I’ll do it. I want things to be good between us again.”

Her eyes flare with shock, and then they dart away as if she’s considering something. I wait expectantly. Maybe she’s going to finally open up and pour out her feelings for me. I’m ready for it.

I’m ready to listen, and validate, and reassure her that she, along with her mum and brother, are the loves of my life.

Her gaze comes back to me, her expression serious, and I brace.

“Can we get a puppy?”

What?

There’s no stopping the unlocking of my jaw and the dropping of my mouth because this was the last thing I expected her to say.

I’m so caught off guard that I can’t even think to immediately tell her ‘no’, which gives her time to launch into all the reasons why we should have a dog.

“Minnie, puppies are a lot of work. You’ve got to potty train them, teach them manners, and they get up for hours at night.”

“I promise I’ll do all that,” she exclaims.

“Like how you were supposed to take care of Fishy?” I can’t help but remind her. Fishy was her goldfish that we had to throw a funeral for a few years ago because she forgot to feed him. That poor sod died of hunger.

Minnie rolls her eyes. “I was six.”

She’s got a point.

Still, it’s obvious part of her request is manipulation because she threw it at me when I opened myself up to vulnerability. She knows I’m trying, and she’s throwing me a clear bone.

Get her a puppy, and all will be forgiven.

“Tell you what,” I look over my shoulder after I parked the car since we’ve reached home. “I promise to think about it, and I’ll talk to mummy.”

“Really?” She bounces in her seat in excitement.

“We’ll talk about it,” I reiterate in a calm, even voice. But there’s no stopping her excitement. The fact that I’m willing to consider is a huge victory for her because she knows that when I make my mind up about something, I never change it.

I open the door for her, and she is quick to unbuckle herself and throws herself at me.

I’m so surprised at the spontaneous act of affection that I almost don’t hug her back. It’s been so long since she’s shown this to me, and it’s the best feeling in the world.

I squeeze her tight, and I can only hope that my darling girl will always love her daddy the way she does right now.

George doesn’t even stir as I pick him up, and I tuck him in his bed straight away since I don’t want to wake him up. He must be tired, and good thing I’ve fed them both dinner.

Minnie even gives me another hug before she gets ready for bed, and that results in me having a permanent smile on my face even as I walk down the stairs and into the kitchen to see my wife.

“She’s chirpy,” YN comments when she sees me walking into the kitchen. “What did you do?”

“Got her to talk to me,” I smirk.

She looks surprised, and well, I can’t blame her. “Did she?”

“She did,” I nod. “Pointed out all my flaws, and when I asked her how I could make it up to her, she asked for a puppy.”

“What?”

“Exactly my reaction,” I chuckle.

“Boy, if she’s this good at emotional blackmailing at nine, we’d probably be in deep shit in a couple of years,” she jokes and I can’t help but laugh.

I’ve missed this.

“Will you go out to dinner with me tomorrow night?” I blurt out before I can stop myself.

“I can’t.”

“What? Got a hot date already?” I ask teasingly, but her silence tells me what I don’t want to know. “Oh, you’re going out with him.”

“Mr Wife- I mean Luke asked me out first and I already said yes.”

I shouldn’t be laughing because the fact that my wife going on a date with another man is not funny at all, but it’s hard to hide my smirk when she almost calls him by the nickname I’ve given him, Mr Wife-stealer.

“Well, fair enough. He asked you first,” I say nonchalantly. “What does he do?”

“He’s an A&E doctor at the Northern General,” she says, her tone lightens a little.

“Smart then isn’t he,” I mutter.

“Yes. He’s smart, attentive, caring and generous with his time.”

I keep my expression and tone bland, but she landed a direct blow there and it fucking hurts. “All the things I’m not,” I state, voicing the conclusion she was aiming at.

“Well,” she drawls with a tiny bit of sympathy. “I do think you’re smart.”

I give her a side eye-roll before I decide to be downright nosy and ask, “you can’t have been on many dates then?”

“True,” she chirps, a gleam in her eye as she sticks the knife in. “He is busy and his schedules are unpredictable. But when he’s gone, he makes sure I know I’m always on his mind. He sends me flowers for absolutely no reason other than because he wants to, calls me every day and we text all the time.”

Well, sodding fucking bollocking shit wank. I didn’t think YN would fall for that crap. And I realise… I never thought to do that stuff for her. I was the self-absorbed type of person who figured that my wife knew I thought about her all the time when I was away. I mean we were married, so I just assumed she knew.

I’m a shit head.

“What else does he do for you?” I ask and she blinks in surprise.

“Why?” She asks suspiciously.

“I told you I want our marriage to work.”

Her eyes narrow slightly, trying to read my tone and see whether I’m being genuine or it’s just bollocks. Finally, she replies primly, “I’m not giving away his secrets.”

What the fuck does that mean? Have they shagged? I would bet a million pounds they had not though, because I know YN and she wouldn’t enter into that deep of a relationship lightly.

Without even thinking twice, I make a sudden step into her. My arm goes around her waist and I pull her body into me. Not a single inch of space between us. Her mouth opens in a gasp of surprise, and I use the opportunity to kiss her.

I kiss the fuck out of my wife.

Her hands slap against my upper arms, and her fingers dig into my sleeves. Even as she’s pushing me away, her mouth opens, and her tongue touches mine briefly.

When I pull back, I ask, “did he kiss you like this?”

She shakes her head, breathlessly admitting, “we haven’t-”

My jaw drops. “Are you joking?”

“I’m not,” she murmurs.

“How long exactly have you been seeing him?”

“About four weeks.”

“Honey, he’s rooting for the other team,” I tell her and she slaps my arm.

“Sod off, he’s not,” she counters.

“Four weeks with the hottest, most gorgeous, shaggable woman and he hasn’t tried to kiss you? I mean not that I’m not grateful because, fuck, I am. But wow.”

“Of course he did try,” she rolls her eyes. “But I’m not ready for that, and he’s okay with us taking it slow.”

For a second I don’t say anything in response. Instead, I loosen my hold, bringing my hand to her lower back, and cupping her intimately from behind. Moaning, she leans into me. “I’m guessing he hasn’t touched you like this then.”

She doesn’t answer. Instead, she lets her eyelids flutter closed as her teeth bite into her lower lip.

Fuck. I could drag her to the floor right now, and we could go at it.

But then she comes to her senses, blinking rapidly, and I release her immediately when she gives me a tiny shove backwards.

“You’re not playing fair,” she accuses.

Damn right I’m not. I grab her upper arms, pull her back into me for one last kiss before I let her go just as quickly. “I’m playing to win.”

She takes a step back, brushes a wisp of hair from her temple, and puts on a cool expression. “That’s not going to make me take you back.”

I smirk.

She waves a dismissive hand. “Don’t get me wrong. You’re great with your hands and your mouth, but a lot of men know how to please a woman.”

She’s got a bonus point for trying to make me jealous, but I’m not falling for it. Instead, I give her a devilish smile and dip my head towards her.

“That’s true, but no one will ever please you the way I can.”

I’m enjoying our banter, and I expect her to come up with a snappy retort that might make me kiss her again.

Instead, her expression is sad when she says, “I wish I could be happy with that.”

My heart squeezes, and I lift a hand to palm the side of her neck. I wait until she meets my gaze. “We’re more than just sex, darling. I know you need and deserve more. I’m ready to prove that to you.”

I lean in, pressing my lips to her forehead.

She doesn’t respond as I pivot and head through the living room, letting myself out the door.

All in all, I think that went very well.

***

I’m back at my wife’s cottage, waiting for my kids as they get ready upstairs. Minnie has finally agreed to go on a daddy-daughter date and George is going to an overnight sleepover birthday party, and I’ll drop him off at his classmate’s house before I take his sister out to dinner. I’ll make sure to make it up to him by taking him on a special one on one date too next week.

There’s a light rap on the door, and my head swings that way. I have no doubt that it’s Mr Wife-stealer who’s going to take my wife out on a date.

I glance towards the master suite, but the door is closed. YN is probably putting on the finishing touches of her makeup. And the kids are still upstairs.

Nothing left to do but let him in.

Forcing a smile, I open the front door. He blinks in surprise to see me standing there, and I know I’ve got two options here; I could either easily dispel the awkwardness by being cool, welcoming and explaining our schedules happened to overlap.

Or… I could use whatever amount of alone time I have with him to instill some doubt inside his head.

That would be a dirty play, but as I have told my wife, I play to win.

Broadening my smile, I stick my hand out. “You must be Luke. I’ve heard a lot about you. I’m Harry.”

He seems momentarily frozen, but then basic manners take over. When he shakes my hand, it’s a bit limp, perhaps denoting a lack of confidence. After I release him, I bid him entrance with a sweep of my hand. “YN is in the bedroom. She’s still getting ready.”

Luke frowns over the fact that I know YN is in the bedroom. Probably over me even being here to talk to him. But I don’t dispel any innuendo he might glean from that.

I loop an arm around his shoulders, clamp down, and start guiding him to the kitchen. “Come on in and sit for a bit while she’s finishing up. Want a beer?”

Luke moves to one of the island stools, looking completely frazzled. “Uh… no, thank you.”

I shrug, moving to the fridge and opening it. Grabbing a bottle, I say with a sly grin as I close it. “So glad YN still stocks my favourite beer.”

I am so going to hell.

But that’s the truth. It’s my wife’s favourite beer, too, but I don't tell him that. Instead, I let the implication that I come over and have beers often. Luke’s frown deepens.

“YN tells me you work at the Northern General?” I take a sip of my beer, then lean my forearms on the island directly across from him so we’re eye level.

“Yeah… uh, that’s right.” Poor Luke. He seems incapable of carrying on a polite conversation with the husband of the woman he’s dating.

But I’m going to give him a pass. Setting my beer down, I straighten. “Let me go tell YN you’re here.”

“Um… you don’t have-” he starts to say, but I move past him without a backward glance. Through the living room, down the small hall, and a hard left takes me to the master suite. The door’s closed. I don’t bother knocking because I know YN is dressed.

I find her in the ensuite, her makeup drawer open and she’s huddled over it, touching something inside.

“Your date’s here,” I announce.

She lets out a yip of fright, shoving whatever it was in her hand to the back and slamming the drawer closed.

“Damn it, Harry,” she snaps, her palm pressed against her heart. “You scared the hell out of me. And what are you doing in my room?”

“Just running an errand for you. Wanted to let you know your date is here,” I say casually and I give her a mischievous grin. “Don’t worry, I welcomed him in, offered him a drink, and made small talk.”

She rolls her eyes, rising from her vanity chair and moves past me without another word. I start to follow, but then I hesitate and turn back to the drawer of her vanity. Quietly, I pull it open as far as it will go, spotting a picture of YN and me stuffed in the back.

I recognise it. It’s from a trip we took to Anguilla a few years back, just the two of us, and fuck if we didn’t look happy and deeply in love.

Was that what she was looking at when I walked in?

That could be good or bad, but either way, no way to know the answer. I shut the drawer, then catch up to her as she’s moving through the living room. Luke sees her, sliding off the stool. When she holds out her hands, he takes them and leans in to kiss her on the cheek.

Lame.

I sit on the armrest of the sofa, watching. Luke glances over YN’s shoulder at me as he pulls back, smiling victoriously.

I just smirk back. Because he’d probably lose it if he knew the type of kiss I gave my wife just last night. But I’ll keep that information to myself, though.

YN grabs her handbag off the accent table near the staircase before addressing me. “Make sure Minnie locks up when you leave, and remind George I’ll pick him up at ten tomorrow morning.”

I give her a jaunty salute. “Aye-aye, Captain.”

In return, I get another eye roll.

Luke puts his hand on my wife’s back, shooting me a look that says, ‘she’s mine tonight’, and I want to punch his teeth down the back of his throat. I just smile blandly, because, in just a few minutes of talking to him and watching how they interact, I can tell he’s getting nothing more than a friendly kiss when he brings her home.

YN might want to keep pushing at that relationship, but I am willing to bet that it’s not going to go anywhere. I know this, because I’m sure that my wife is still in love with me.

Read part II here!

#harry #harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles ff #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #boyfriend!harry #husband!harry #dad!harry #dad harry styles #dad harry imagines #dad harry styles imagines

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tetralea · 3 years

Text

Only To Watch - In the chair

Pairing: switch/sub!Tom Holland x sub!reader x dom!Harrison Osterfield

Word Count: 4K+

Warning: pure smut. Threesome, male x male 69 oral sex, cum play, oral female recieving, fingering, rimming (male recieving), dirty talk, soft dom x sub dynamics, play with whipped cream. There will be a big part of Tom x Haz in this one.

Summary: Some innocent games with Tom and his birthday cake cream gives Harrison an idea. It is time for you to watch him and Tom taking care of each other.

A third part of my Only To Watch series. First and second parts are here.

A/N: It was inspired by this ask! Thnk you for everyone who supported me through writing this!

Soft giggles and smacks filled the air in the kitchen as Tom found you preparing a cake for his upcoming birthday.

You were at the point to finish the cream when he appeared, asking for a taste. His fingers dipped into the raspberry flavoured cream. The response was an appreciative hum, and another try.

It was how this started, and at this point you might need to make another batch because now Tom smeared a generous amount on your neck, his lips finding the trail of sweet and sticky cream to clean it up. He ran his tongue over your skin before pressed his hot lips to your skin to suck and lapped at the same place until he only could taste you and the cream was gone.

You were already putty in his arms, but it didn’t stop you to scope up a small amount smearing it across his lips. You leant in immediately making a mess on your own as you did your best to clean everything up during the messy kiss. It was heated and you did your best not to reach into his hair with your sticky hand. Tom pushed you against the counter his hunger for you unmasked. When he parted from you his lips parted and slender fingers wrapped around your wrist to pull it further until your fingers were in his wet mouth, him sucking eagerly with the obscenest noises on yours. His eyes were locked with yours, completely mesmerised, all of his focus on you.

That is how it happened that neither of you noticed Harrison appearing in the door, watching your show with amusement, for a few seconds, until he got an idea. Much better than solely joining you.

‘Are you two having fun?’ He asked making Tom and you jump, with a knowing smirk on his lips.

‘Hey, love!’ You greeted him, quickly pulling your fingers from Tom’s mouth with a loud pop, trying to make the situation a bit better. ‘I was just making some cream for the cake for Tom’s birthday.’ You betted your eyelashes innocently, but Harrison knew so much better now.

He walked to the pair of you slowly, stopping behind Tom, circling his arms around the brunette’s waist, looking into the half empty bowl. He raised a brow, as a silent question, and you knew the two of you were in trouble.

‘It looked something entirely different to me.’ Harrison’s voice was calm and even. ‘And I wasn’t even invited.’ He added, sucking his own fingers which he dipped in the bowl.

There was a moment of tense silence, Tom looking at you with a slightly worried expression, his cheeks still red from your game, waiting for Haz to say something. He shuddered when soft, sticky lips were pressed to his neck, kissing up on the sensitive skin until his ear. ‘You, bedroom and stip. Now.’

Then the blue eyes turned to you with a playful but serious glint in them. ‘And you, also bedroom, clothes on. Get comfortable in that chair at the end of the bed.’ By the end of the sentence his lips turned into a smirk which didn’t promise anything good for you.

He let the two of you go without another word, and the route to your now shared bedroom was quicker than usual. The door was left open and you hesitantly walked to the chair in the room, pulling it closer to the bed.

By the time it was in place Tom was in nothing but his boxers.

‘We are so fucked, darling.’ He whined, fingers toying with the waistband of his boxers, which he left on.

‘We?’ You squealed. ‘Maybe you, but I'm lucky if he ever lets me even getup from here.’ Tom walked to you, his palm sliding onto your face, his fingers still smelling faintly like raspberries.

‘To be fair, I didn’t mean any trouble. It’s just, this week I can’t stay away from you, darling. I need you in every fucking minute.’ He punctuated every word and leant in to kiss you again, but it never happened.

‘Tom.’ Harrison’s calm voice made the brunette froze in place. ‘Why are you not naked? And why the hell can’t you behave just once?’ Haz’s annoyed voice made you giggle, making you forget just how tense you felt, obliged to sit on the chair.

Tom straightened himself and pushed down his boxers, his cock already hard and heavy between his legs.

‘So easy for us.’ Harrison snickered and placed some towels on the bed and pulled out some wet wipes and lube from the nightstand. ‘Because you guys forgot to invite me to your party, and because Tom just seems to be insatiable this week, we will play a game.’

The blue eyes squinted a little, his lips turned up to a smile as he lifted the bottle of whipped cream, and placed it on the bed, until he got rid of his own clothes quickly. ‘The rules are simple, I’ll put some of this on me,-’ he lifted the bottle-,’and you clean it up, not more or less space just the one which is covered in cream. And you darling-,’ he turned to you a little now, making you swallow hard-, ‘you will watch only. No touching, no stripping until I say so. Understood?’ He laid down the rules and looked at Tom than you for an affirmative nod. ‘Great.’ He grinned and popped down the cap of the bottle, before he pressed some cream on his fingers which he smeared on his own neck.

Tom like a man starving stepped closer, his hands now behind his back, trying to be as good as he could, and licked a long strip from the base of Haz’s neck to the top of the white line.

‘Good boy.’

Tom muttered something, which you couldn’t really understood but only this small act made you squirm in your place.

Then come another white fluffy cloud and it landed on Haz’s fingers, offering them to Tom to suck. The brunette boy didn’t hesitate and did his best to clean up the mess without using his hands to steady himself.

The next batch landed on Haz’s cheeks which Tom kissed away. It was pure torture to watch as Harrison coaxed him closer and closer to his mouth never really letting Tom there. He was whining lowly, hands twitching behind his back, wanting nothing than grabbing Harrison and kiss him stupid finally.

The blonde visibly enjoyed making Tom more and more frustrated, one hand moving around with the bottle the other now gently resting on the narrow hips, keeping Tom in place before his next move. Now the top of the container landed on the thin lips, leaving a puffy stain to Tom’s biggest surprise. His lust blown brown eyes found the blue ones and after a small affirmation he cleaned himself up, licking his own lips clean, just when he finished Harrison’s other hand slid up on his body crashing their lips together. It caught Tom by surprise, but he didn’t hesitate to kiss Harrison back.

‘Can I touch you?’ He breathed out in between the heated kisses they longed to share in the last minutes. Now it was your turn to sigh in attempt to suppress a moan. Tom was rarely the one solely in a sub’s position and even then, he was a particularly bratty one, but not now, he melted against Harrison’s touch and didn’t move until the response.

‘Look at you.’ Haz purred with a grin, his hands wandering on Tom’s naked form, his palms feeling the strong muscles, doing his best to keep the distance between the two of them. It wasn’t time yet to let Tom press into him, grinding his hard-on to Haz’s. He wanted to tease Tom just a bit beyond his limits. ‘You can, but you have to stay in place.’

You had to bite your lips to the primal sound Tom let out, when his slender fingers finally reached Harrison’s pale skin. His movements were hurried trying to feel the blonde’s body with every small space it had. They kept the kiss going, sometimes slowing down, Haz digging his teeth into Tom’s bottom lip pulling on it, before letting it go and shooting the ache with his tongue. The whole act was so slow, sensual and sinful, you were sure your knuckles already turned white you were grasping the edge of the seat so hard.

‘Let me closer, please.’ Tom pleaded, his hips twitching, and you barely could believe your ears. Now you were thinking he was playing, trying to put on a show for you, making the anticipation even worse for you.

Looking down between their bodies, Haz was still in his boxers, but his erection was visible nonetheless, while Tom was completely naked, his cock hanging heavy, leaking and rock hard between them almost begging for any kind of touch already.

‘I want to, but I have some other plans.’ Harrison breathed on the swollen, red lips, before he lifted the bottle in his hand and placed a small amount on his chest. Tom groaned but leant down to clean it up. He moved along Harrison’s chest, making the blonde's breathing laboured, coaxing some soft groans and whimpers out of your boyfriend. It looked like Tom was chasing those small patches slowly moving down on Haz’s body until he was on his knees. Now he was cleaning up a place on the curve of Haz’s hips, his hands now sliding down on the pale skin, not caring about the relatively sticky mess the caught on the way.

The next puff was right on the tip of Haz’s cock, leaving an absolute mess on his boxers. Tom stopped for a moment, taking in the sight in front of him, wetting his lips leaning in, his tongue sticking out and scooping up the soft cream in one swift motion. Harrison’s hand slid into the messy brown hair as his eyes closed for a second enjoying the sensation. He was so fucking hard, and those stupid boxers felt so uncomfortable. Maybe it was time to get rid of them. He placed another, longer strip on top of himself, Tom being quick to catch it, and you couldn’t help the moan slipping past your lips, your eyes closed as you shuddered from the pure want surging in your veins.

‘Someone is impatient.’ Harrison remarked while he took Tom’s hands and hooked his thumbs in the elastics of his boxers. The blue eyes remained on you when Tom freed his cock, both of your mouths watering at the sight. ‘Maybe we should give her some slack, what do you think, Tom?’ He asked and helped the brunette up from the ground. ‘She looks very uncomfortable in those clothes.’

Tom hummed lowly and said something but you couldn’t focus. It was impossible to pay attention when both of them stood in front of you, bare, cocks rock hard. It was a sight you never thought you wanted to see in this setting but you weren’t complaining. Your fingers were itching to reach out and touch them, but you had to return to reality because Tom walked to you his hands pushing down the straps of your tank top and reaching behind you to get rid of your bra.

‘Beautiful.’ He whispered, both hands pinching your nipples at the same time. Your body jerked and you sucked in a sharp breath preparing for what was to come, but to your disappointment it was nothing. He stepped away from your, letting you sit there under their hungry gazes with your breasts exposed, nipples hard and tingling.

‘Please let me touch.’ You blurted our involuntarily, lounging forward on the chair, opening your legs a little then closing them, trying to soothe the ache between them.

‘Touch what, love?’ Harrison asked with raised brows as he gestured towards the bed, nodding to Tom to lay down.

‘You? Myself? Anything? Please, Haz!’ You could tell that it was exactly what he wanted to make you beg and ache for them, and he had no plans to give into it just yet.

‘You can touch the chair, baby girl, and come closer to the bed to see us better, but nothing more.’ He said, walking to you and lifting your chin with his finger. ‘I know you want to, but it’s just fair, we also had to endure it, and now it’s your turn.’ He reasoned before a faint kiss against your lips, leaving you yearning for more. Before you knew it, he was gone, crawling on the bed, pushing Tom on the towels.

They shuffled around until Haz was on his side, spraying a long line along his body for Tom to clear. The brunette was even more eager, his nose getting covered in the white foam as he lapped and sucked and kissed on the soft skin, slowly making his way down on Harrison’s body. When he was done, a new and last portion arrived, which Harrison smeared around his and Tom’s base.

They laid on the bed on their sides, facing each other in a 69 position, and you had to brace yourself for what was to come. You scooted over to see them better, just in time to see Tom parting his lips, his long lashes closed to clean up Harrison’s base. At the same time the blonde one moved closer to Tom’s crotch too sticking his tongue out to clean up the sticky mess from the hard shaft.

‘Jesus Christ.’ You mumbled, and you were positive that your panties were completely soaked at that point. It was pure torture you never really thought about while bouncing on one of their cock’s making the other one to watch, but it was pure hell. Fully knowing there were nothing you could do you leaned forward in the chair to see more, to see as Tom swirled his tongue around Harrison’s angry red tip and as Harrison lazily sucked Tom’s cock into his mouth.

It looked like pure sin and the throb between your legs made it harder and harder to keep your hands away from your pussy.

Now Tom was lightly bobbing his head, sucking gently at the end before he pushed it back between his lips. His moans were muffled by Haz’s cock, but the pure bliss on his features was obvious. He wasn’t used to being teased for this long, his cock being untouched and now he felt like he was in heaven. Harrison’s mouth was wrapping around him snuggly, sucking and lapping at the most delicious spots. His surprised whimper tore your gaze from the way his hard-on disappeared in Harrison’s mouth. You focused on his face now, his brows furrowed, lips stretched around the thick cock in front of him, hands covering the part which didn’t fit in his mouth.

You could tell that both of them were getting close by the way they speeded up, their noises mixing together and with the wet sounds of sucking. You heard Tom whining and a second later Harrison’s voice.

‘Strip to your panties and get on the bed.’

You didn’t move for a second. It took his words some time to get through the haze in your mind, and to make your body move. The realisation that you most probably didn’t move in the last minutes and that your fingers were sore and your mouth impossibly dry hit you suddenly, but you did what you were asked none the less.

When they felt the mattress dip under your weight Haz spoke again, switching to jerk Tom with his hand.

‘On your knees, thighs open. That’s it.’ You whined the soreness and ache between your legs now too prominent and having the open only making it worse. ‘I want you to stay like that, and help us clean up when I tell you, but, yes, that’s right legs open, waiting and exposed for us.’ His smirk didn’t leave you unaffected, you frantically started to look around for anything you could have stuffed under your pussy to grind on in your desperation.

However your search was interrupted by hearing Harrison spit into his palm and carefully opening Tom’s thighs even more. The reaction was nothing you haven’t heard or saw before, Tom shuddered, a soft ‘fuck’ leaving his lips when Harrison’s delicate fingers swept through his perineum and tight hole, coating the sensitive places in his spit.

From that second you were sure it wouldn’t last long. It wasn’t too early in the relationship between the three of you when Harrison coaxed it out of Tom that he liked and wanted to be touched there, and oh the effect it had on him. You had your fair share pleasuring him like this and he was, so sensitive. Not even going any further than lightly massaging and rubbing his tight hole and the space till his balls had him seeing stars.

You wet your lips as you leant on your hands too, being careful to keep your legs open no matter how difficult it felt. You wanted to be so good for them. The sight in front of you, was something else now Tom sucked Harrison with ease, fitting his whole penis into his mouth, relaxing his throat just in the right time. Spit glistering on his lips and face as it dripped down to the towels. He was fucked out already you could tell from his expression.

On the other hand you looked at Haz, sucking Tom with intent, one hand drawing tight circles on his hole the other one fondling his balls. They were tight any heavy ready to release in any second.

‘Fuck, Haz he is so close.’ Your voice sounded alien to you, but it didn’t stop you from going on. ‘He is almost cuming. God, so pretty.’ You sighed and had to stop yourself from reaching out to run your fingers across Tom’s body. ‘That’s it, Tom, fuck, you look so hot. Are you there? Do you need to cum?’ The effect you had was immediate, Tom was whimpering around Haz’s cock nodding the best he could, sticking his butt out a little to give Harrison more space. It was hard to tell what it was but you enjoyed your newly found power and went on. ‘Let go, baby, let Haz make you cum, I know you want to, let us taste you.’ You couldn’t even finish, and he was there. Body tensing and shaking from the force of it. Harrison kept him with expertise in his mouth, hollowing and releasing his cheeks while moving his head, coaxing the orgasm out of Tom, letting him release into his mouth, swallowing his load the best he could, helping him though his peak until Tom was shaking from overstimulation. After that you were expecting Harrison to let go of him but instead he kept Tom warm in his mouth.

You didn’t have time to dwell on it because not even a few seconds later Tom started to jerk off Harrison fast and hard, his mouth opened, eyes closed, tongue sticking out, not moving even when the hot, white cum hit it. He kept going, moving has hands, soaking in Harrisons little trembles and muffled moans. When Tom closed his mouth the swallowed the cum he collected lowly humming to the taste.

This was the moment when Harrison gestured to you, trying his best to look at you to cue you to move closer and closer until you were level with your face. He only then let go of Tom leaning up and kissing you. It was a shock to your system. The thing your body was on the edge for was there so suddenly you barely could proceed it, mostly when you felt the taste of Tom’s cum on Harrison’s lips and tongue. You winced to the feeling of the thick cum being pushed onto your tongue, then it hit you. Haz was only collecting the cum still sweeping out of Tom’s cock after he swallowed the first load, so he could make you swallow some too. You took it, eagerly kissing back to Harrison your tongue dancing with his trying to collect every drop before you parted.

‘Good girl.’ Harrison praised you. ‘No go and help him too.’

You moved swiftly, leaning down to Tom, kissing his lips and hands which were covered in the white spurts. After sucking every one of his fingers clean, you kissed him obsessed with the taste mixing on your tongue. You were so lost in the kiss with Tom you didn’t notice that Haz moved away and crawled behind you.

The sudden moan against the thin, tired lips made Tom smirk. His hands come up to grab your shoulders and keep you in place. You were in a very vulnerable position, your ass up in the air and Harrison used it to his advantage. He slid a finger across your soaked panties unexpectedly. It was a shock again and you wanted to turn and see him, but Tom didn’t let you. He kept kissing you, his tongue soothing away your worries.

‘Fuck, Tom. She has properly soaked her panties.’ Harrison’s amused voice filled your chest with pride. ‘Let her go, come look at this.’ It wasn’t even a command, but Tom breathed a small kiss to your lips and after a playful wink he moved away, behind you.

‘God.’ You heard his voice and simultaneously felt another finger run though the material sticking to your folds. ‘We can’t leave her like this. We both got our fair share at the end.’ Tom reasoned and you felt grateful.

‘I know, I didn’t mean to punish her that bad.’ Harrison’s voice come out with a giggle, and you felt two sets of hands touching you. The moan escaping your lips were primal, begging for something more and saying thank you for what you already got. ‘We can’t fuck her tho.’ Harrison said out the obvious facts, with both of them just cuming they couldn’t.

‘I can eat her out.’ Tom volunteered, his voice dripping with enthusiasm.

‘You are really crazy for her this week.’ Harrison laughed and placed a soft kiss on Tom’s lips. ‘Come on, lay on your back. You can eat her out and I’ll finger her.’

Just the thought alone sent another gush of wetness to your folds. While Tom laid down, Harrison helped the panties of off you, gently manuvering you above Tom’s face.

‘Come on, baby girl, we all know you want it, and he is pretty eager too, let Tom taste you.’ Haz encouragement was all you needed to lower yourself down being in an almost 69 position above Tom except that his cock was laying on his stomach soft and small.

The moment his lips touched your pulsing pussy felt like his lips were charged with electricity and it surged through your body. You couldn’t hold back your moans and whimpers anymore. Thankfully strong hands were preventing you to collapse on the brunette’s face. You felt Harrison’s fingers circling around your entrance and yelped as he inserted not only one but two infers immediately.

‘God, baby girl, you wanted it for so bad, huh? So soaked and open for us already and we haven’t even touched you until now.’

There weren’t any coherent thoughts in your mind anymore. With Tom’s skilled tongue lapping and his mouth sucking on your swollen and neglected clit while Harrison fingered you with ease, brushing against your swollen g-spot sent you flying.

‘She won’t last, Haz.’ Tom warned and it felt like his voice was miles away.

‘I can feel it, yeah. So pathetic. Baby girl, wants to cum so bad.’

They were right but there was nothing in the word what could make you change it or answer to them.

‘But she was so good, she sat it out through the whole time, never touching herself, being such a good girl for us. She deserves to cum.’ Harrison speeded up, his fingers pumping in and out of you while Tom sucked hard, and you were done for.

‘Can I come?’ Your voice was hoarse, breathy.

‘Yes, love, you can. Don’t hold back, let it go. Show us how pretty you are when you come.’ Harrison encouraged you, and it was all you needed again, you tipped over the edge.

It felt like the pleasure consumed your body, like you had no control over your muscles anymore, like it was never ending, the waves of pleasure for the simultaneous simulation washed over you again and again. You never realised how you were almost screaming, their names one after the other like a mantra filling the air, neither the soft ‘thank you’s whispered onto Tom’s hips soaked in your saliva.

It seemed like it will never end when they both started to slow down, coaxing you down from your high until you were blissed out and panting. The strong hands helped you lay down on the bed. Two pair of lips kissed along your shoulder and collarbone, oh so many fingers run up and down on your figure and two firm bodies were pressed to yours keeping you warm.

It was hard to tell how much time has passed in complete quiet, when you started to giggle.

‘So did I win?’

Tags: @worldoftom @cumholland @hazofmyheart @enjoy-the-destruction @greenorangevioletgrass @blissfulparker @osterfieldshollandgirl @flower-child2021 @annathesillyfriend, @thegirlintheswivelchair, @augustholland @cocoamoonmalfoy @mskatharinak @yazzyu @drifting-daydream @frenchfrostpudding @sippin-on-tea

#tom holland #harrison osterfield #tom holland smut #tom holland x reader x harrison osterfield #tom holland x harrison osterfield #smut #harrison osterfield smut #smutty smut smut

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katzkinder · 3 years

Text

Little Boy Blue

Mahiru is tired.

Kuro can see it, in the way his folding isn’t as neat, in the way the vegetables in their dinner aren’t as uniformly chopped, in the way his head bobs during school lessons, his laughter isn’t as loud, how he doesn’t check half so well before he crosses the street and needs the ever watchful hand of Sakuya to drag him back from the curb, a shout on the subclass’s lips, scolding and fussing about the car that had just whizzed past their little group.

Mahiru is tired, but he refuses to rest.

And it’s driving Kuro mad.

It’s as Mahiru is jerked and prodded, worried and fussed over by his trio of school friends, that Kuro makes a decision.

His Eve will get some sleep, whether he wants to or not.

Thankfully for him, he knows Mahiru wants it. The frustrating part is that his stupid, incredible, wonderful human doesn’t think he’s earned it. Not yet. Not when there was still more to do.

Which meant, joy of joys… He needed some help.

Good thing he had three ready made volunteers right there with him on the curb.

Now to convince them.

***

The easiest part, by far, was getting them to go along with his plan. Slipping into Mahiru’s bag to use the cellphone Tooru had bought him (every time he thought about it, he still couldn’t believe it. His own phone, his own clothes, his own games, his own… Everything, really), he sent a single text to three different numbers.

Mahiru’s exhausted. Help me get him to chill out?

The hard part…

“Hey, Mahiru! It’s been a while since we all last had a sleepover, right?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, it has…”

“Since we’re already going to be walking you home to make sure you don’t wander out into traffic…”

“It was an accident!”

“Party at Mahiru-sama’s place~!”

“Would you stop with that stupid… Fine! But Sakkun is paying for the food!”

… Wasn’t actually that hard? But, well. Leave it to the grungy joker to just… Steamroll his way into Mahiru’s place, invited or not. And become a steamed cabbage in the process.

The power of Mahiru-sama is frightening indeed…

***

The first order of business when the five of them arrive at Mahiru’s apartment is taken care of handily by, once again, Sakuya.

“Pizza time!” he crows, tapping the order into a website Kuro only vaguely recognizes the name of. It’s not a delivery app, but the website’s own page, and while he’s busy with that, Kuro hops out of Mahiru’s bag, ready to go fetch blankets and pillows from the linen closet in order to set them all up.

Except Mahiru’s two human friends beat him to it.

All the better, he thinks, as he hops up onto the couch to watch them spread things out right in front of the TV. The living room is small, the area they’ve chosen to occupy even more so, but it’s what he would have chosen for Mahiru, too, to cram them all together, to surround his Eve with the simple pressure and warmth of his loved ones crowded close.

Not for the first time, and certainly not the last, Kuro is so… Grateful for Mahiru’s friends. Before him, and even after him, they will love Mahiru like a brother, like a family, know him in ways he can’t, the same way Gear knows him in ways Mahiru never will.

And that’s fine. To be known is to be loved, and more than anyone, Mahiru deserves it.

“Mahiru, can you help Ryuu-chan? I’m gonna go make sure Sakuya doesn’t burn your kitchen down trying to make popcorn.”

“Hey! I’ll have you know, I’m always the one who makes the popcorn when Shamrock can’t!”

“And how much of it do you burn?”

“Less than you, so nyeh.”

… Maybe he should go watch them.

“Ah, Kuro, don’t get your fur on the counter!”

“Can’t deal…”

At the least, Mahiru seems to already be feeling better. It’s like magic. The best kind Kuro has ever seen.

***

Kuro spends the night as a cat, nestled in Mahiru’s lap or lying across his back, little paws kneading his Eve’s flesh and purring up a storm, extra sweet and extra soothing, while the other three pile around them. Mahiru is… Quiet. But not a bad quiet, no. A good quiet, letting the presence of the other people in their home wash over him, their bickering and their teasing, not a host but just a friend, just another kid, a kid with greasy fingers and a half drunk bottle of cola and two boxes of extra large pepperoni pizzas with cheesy bread set out before them.

“Where the heck do you find these pizza places I’ve never heard of?” Ryuusei asks after a particularly long cheese stretch has him craning his head back and holding his arms out, making the other three laugh, “This is great.”

“Vampire SNS,” Sakuya tells him proudly, and snickers once more at the tongue click it nets him.

Much to Kuro’s surprise, after building their little nest, the green haired vampire had graciously given up his preferred spot next to Mahiru without a word, instead settling himself shoulder to shoulder with the short one, Ryuusei, while he and Koyuki had pressed themselves up against Mahiru like they were trying to merge with him. It’s a tangle of arms and legs, like cats lying one on top of the other, physical closeness that speaks volumes of the emotional one they’ve cultivated with each other, and which they were slowly, Kuro felt, trying to ease him into.

It was a strange feeling. Being included.

But it wasn’t one he hated by any means.

Ryuusei flops his head against Mahiru’s arm, cheek squishing ridiculously as he squints at the screen. “Who picked this again?”

The crunching from Mahiru’s right stops, and a bowl of half eaten popcorn, buttery and with the perfect amount of salt, is nudged his Eve’s way. Wordlessly, Mahiru grabs up a big handful of it, stuffs it in his mouth with a knowing little smile, a sort of carelessness Kuro can never seem to invoke on his own.

The shuffling of fabric, and Koyuki leans onto Mahiru’s shoulder as well, the barest hint of a pout to his voice. “Does it matter? Even bad movies are fun when we’re together.”

“You’re cheesier than this pizza,” Sakuya teases, and Mahiru grins, laughs, finally says something, the exhaustion all but gone from his voice.

“That means Koyuki definitely picked it.”

“So you’re the one responsible!” Ryuusei shouts, and Koyuki flicks popcorn at him, bounces it right off his head.

“Shut up! You can change it, y’know.”

“Well, we’re already this far in,” Mahiru muses, and Sakuya quietly plucks the floor tainted popcorn up to place on a napkin, “Might as well finish it.”

Kuro is… So glad that Mahiru has friends who can do this for him. To do the things he can’t. This sense of total normalcy, of being just another teenager… It’s not really something he can help with. Not really. He knows he’s the type to overthink, to become discouraged when his efforts don’t get immediate results.

But now Mahiru is laughing again.

It’s everything he could have asked for.

***

Hours upon hours later, the only light in the room is from the flickering TV screen, and the only sounds are the soft breaths of four teenage boys, fast asleep right there on the floor.

Kuro finally rouses himself, gets up, stretches, and carefully picks his way down Mahiru’s back. Only then does he allow himself to transform back into a human, cracking his neck, his back, and sighing heavily at the relief it grants his stiff joints.

It’s time to get to work. All that effort would be meaningless if Mahiru woke to a mess, so clean up crew Kuro shall be.

First go the soda bottles. Back into the fridge, without a label or a care for who had drunk from what, because it’s not like those four cared anyway, but Mahiru hated to waste food. Honestly, Kuro was in agreement on that much, but especially when it came to his favorites. So, twisting each cap tightly back into place, he made sure to set them up in plain sight so that they’d be finished in the morning (and if not by their owners, by him), blocking the light of the fridge with his own body and the tails of his coat so as not to disturb the quartet of friends.

Next were the pizza boxes. Each one was completely empty, but that was no surprise, given that there were two shared between the five of them. Even the little banana peppers included had been devoured. If Kuro had to guess… Mahiru. For some godforsaken reason, his Eve adored things that set his mouth on fire, and no amount of “it’s not that spicy!” would change Kuro’s opinion that Mahiru, sweet faced, stubborn, wonderful Mahiru, just wanted to see what the fires of hell tasted like.

(And maybe he was a bit of a baby when it came to peppers, but clearly that wasn’t his fault)

Onto the counters the pizza boxes went.

Next came the bowl of popcorn, filled with nothing but unpopped kernels, then the plates, then the napkins, then the painstaking process of picking up every infernal piece of popped corn that had been jokingly thrown about between friends with zero thought for who would have to clean it up all up.

Considering how many Sakuya had tossed, he had a feeling the other vampire had known Kuro would take it upon himself to tidy up their garbage, and found himself cracking an annoyed, if fond, smile.

Little brat.

Mess more or less taken care of, Kuro had one last task to complete, and fetching the fluffiest quilt he could find from the closet that hadn’t already been used to pad out the hard tile in front of their TV, he carefully, carefully, spread it out over the pile of sleeping boys. Not a one stirred, not even Mahiru.

His smile turned ever so slightly bitter.

Well, that was fine. That was good, even, because it meant that, more than he’d thought, Mahiru had needed this night, this little slice of being normal, of simplicity.

Looking at each face in turn… He thought that maybe, all of them had.

Himself included.

Tucking himself into the crook of Mahiru’s neck was easy, a warm, furry weight that had his Eve curling up even more, ever so slightly, setting off a chain reaction as each teenager also shifted, one or two murmuring in their sleep, shuffling closer to each other like small birds seeking safety and comfort during a storm.

And that was fine, too. Kuro would watch over their dreams, every one.

Sleep tight, guys. Sweet dreams...

#kat's katerwauling #servamp #pawprints #servamp kuro #mahiru shirota #sakuya watanuki #servamp ryuusei #servamp koyuki #i wasn't gonna post anything today #but then i got possessed by this concept

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muilkyu · 4 years

Text

Cooking With Treasure

Genre:Fluff

Word Count: 1k (1490)

Warnings: None (as usual pure fluff)

This was requested a million years ago lol.

🐷 Hyunsuk

"The website says 4 eggs. Do we have eggs at home?"

"We have a full carton of eggs."

Hyunsuk checks the item off the list moving to the next, "It says we need breadcrumbs."

"Plain or seasoned? Wait just breadcrumbs or panko specifically?"

Hyunsuk is thrown off guard by the question he looks up from his phone head tilted, "There are different types?"

"Yes, there is. They all taste different too."

"I officially give up. Here you take the list, I'm just gonna follow your lead."

Hyunsuk is actually pretty good a cooking

So he agrees almost immediately to cook with you

Rather cook than eat out anyways

Whenever you ask to cook with him he gets really excited asking if you need to run to the store or not

🐼 Jihoon

“More pepper in mine please?” you request.

Wordlessly Jihoon pours a little more pepper into the egg mixture, “Is that enough?”

“Yes thank you,” you chirp, turning back the strawberries for your fruit salad. “Since you don’t want a fruit salad do you want a smoothie?”

“It’s okay you don’t have to make anything else.”

You stop cutting to turn around, “It’s okay, it’s not much and you need more fruit in your diet.”

“Hey, it’s too early in the morning to take jabs at me.”

You just laugh, “It is never too early to tease you. Now you know how your friends feel. Also your eggs are starting to burn.”

You are both great independent cookers

Both follow your own rhythm in the kitchen

Loves bring a recipe to you that you can both try together

🐯 Yoshi

“The recipe says we need some brown sugar,” Yoshi reads from his phone.

“I have some at home. Those cookies I made a while ago needed some,” you tell him placing a carton of baking soda into the basket on his arm.

“I never knew cookies required so many ingredients,” he says looking down at the basket that's filled to the top with ingredients.

“Yeah, but that’s the fun part. We get to run around the kitchen trying to remember measurements and spilling flour all over the place.”

“I have a feeling we are going to be cleaning dishes all night,” he says.

I feel like Yoshi would be fine in the kitchen

Follows your lead though for sure

Yoshi’s partner would totally be a baker (gut feeling idk)

Has his own apron that matches yours

🐨 Junkyu

"Smell this and see if it's bad."

Pushing away the bottle Junkyu is pushing towards your face you reply, "If you have to smell it to see if it's bad you shouldn't use it."

“Why do you want to cook anyways?”

You shrug crossing your arms leaning against the counter, “We always eat out. It's a nice change to our usually routine.”

“I see, well if we want to cook anything we should head out to the market.”

“Or we could head to my dorm because I have everything we need, but tomorrow we are going to clean out your fridge.”

Junkyu groans, not liking the idea of cleaning, “Does it have to be tomorrow?”

“Yes it does now come on I’m hungry.”

Junkyu doesn’t cook for himself

All the food in his fridge is packed by his mom

Cooking with Junkyu goes south very quickly

1000% messes up measurements

You might have to start over a few times...

🐹 Mashiho

“Which plate should we use the pink ones or the green ones?”

Turning around Mashi just shrugs, “You can choose.”

“We’ll do the pink ones then they match the lemonade,” you decide, placing the pink plates down on the table.

“Okay! Are you ready to eat?” he says, carefully he brings the pan over from the stove. You sit down capping your hands. “Dinner is served.”

“Thank you so much for helping mte today.”

Mashi shakes his head denying it all, “No thank you for letting me help you. Now let’s dig in.”

We all saw T-Map episode 34...he knows his way around the kitchen

Honesty cooking with Mashi is just full of giggles

Since you both know what you are doing no mistakes happen

100% serves both of your plates

🦁 Jaehyuk

"How much of this?"

"Half a cup. Stir it slowly," you instruct slowly pouring milk into the measuring cup.

He follows instructions slowly pouring in the milk, "Speed one or two?"

"One first and then two so it doesn't fly everywhere."

Jae doesn't seem to have listened because he pushes the machine onto four. The milk goes flying everywhere, soaked all of his shirt and face. He scrambles to turn the machine off,while you just watch.

When he gets the mixer off he looks up at you with milk and bits of flour falling from his face, "Oops."

He's excited about cooking together

Always follows instructions

Yet all seems to make mistakes

The food still turns out amazing, but he's on cleaning duty after you finishing cooking

🤖 Asahi

"Let's just order some food."

"That might be too expensive. We can just make something."

"It'll take longer, we should just order."

"There is a perfectly good kitchen right there," you point out, "Plus we shouldn't waste food."

He thinks for a bit before agreeing, "What are we gonna make?"

Asahi would rather order out than cook

You have to push him to cook

Definitely forgets to set the timer to check on the food

🦊 Yedam

"We should bake a cake."

He looks up from his phone confused at the sudden proposal, "Tonight?"

"Yes, I think we have all the ingredients."

"Okay, what flavor?"

You think for a second then reply, “Mhh, chocolate cake.”

Goes along with it

He's a little lost but he's good at following the recipe

The food always turns out fine with a few minor casualties

🐰 Doyoung

"Let me help."

"No, I'm going to cook."

He attempts to pick up the pasta sitting on the counter, but you slap his hand with the back of the spoon.

"Please? I don't want you to make all of this alone."

You glance down at the ingredients on the table, before agreeing, "You know it wouldn't hurt to have a little help."

Really wants to help you out

He's really only in the way half the time but he really tires

You let him help out whenever he begs because you secretly like cooking with him

100% asks his mom to teach him how to cook because he wants to impress you

🐏 Haruto

"How much longer?"

"I just put the pan on the stove."

He plops down on the couch groaning, “Maybe we should just order some food.”

“Nope, I already started the noodles,” you reply, sitting down on the couch next to him.

Haruto grabs a hold of you pulling you into his side, you giggle letting your head falling into his shoulder, “Thank you for cooking for us.”

“Mh, and thank you for helping.”

Doesn’t offer to help because he is terrified of messing up your work

Always helps clean up

You always try to incorporate both of your cultures food into your cooking

🐺 Jeongwoo

As soon as you open the door Jeongwoo is already pulling you into a hug.

“I missed you so much.”

You slightly hug back pulling away, “You just saw me yesterday.”

Pouting he tries to pull you back into the hug. Successfully you dodge him trying to avoid letting the spoon in your hand get any sauce on you both.

"Why are you staring at me?"

"What's behind your back?" he questions, extending his neck to look behind you. “A spoon.”

"It's nothing," you insist, trying to change the subject you push the spoon behind your back and invite him in, "Just take off your shoes and come inside."

“Did you cook?”

You nod, “Just a little bit. I still have to make the rest of the salad and dressing though.”

“I can cut up the rest of the vegetables and you can finish up the dressing then.” He decides to slip off his shoes heading to the kitchen.

Always wants to help

Usually clueless, but the food is never ruined

Doesn't really care for cooking himself but finds it more exciting when it's with you

🐮 Junghwan

"Are you sure this is correct?"

"I've done this a million times."

“I don’t think we put enough milk,” you say looking down at the recipe.

Junghwan stops stirring to look at the red clumpy in the bowl. “Just give it a few more minutes.”

“It’s already been 15 minutes,” you remind him. “We should add some more milk.”

"Just a few more minutes I promise it will come together."

Takes the lead

He insists what recipe you should make, but adds his own twists

Cooking together either turns out amazing or at the end the night you end up having to order food

Thank you so much for reading!

Also this was a request from months ago I don’t even have the original request anymore.

I am trying out the ‘keep reading’ feature so my blog so it doesn’t take forever to scroll lol. I don’t know how I feel about it yet, but let’s just give it a try.

Requests closed.

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whitexwingedxdoves · 3 years

Text

Ghosts [Ending]

Chapter 3 : The End.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Pronouns: She/Her Time Frame: Pre Apocalypse Warnings: strong language, crime, implied sexual activity. Summary: a few of weeks have past and you have been on the run with the brothers when you come across trouble. A/N: she a little longer than the other parts but, ahhhh, I enjoyed writing all three parts so much. Ugh. Thank you everyone who liked/reblogged any of the parts, it means a lot.

Read Part One Here. Read Part Two Here.

It had been a couple of weeks since you stole the money and you had been on the road with the brothers for a few weeks now. Nothing that momentous happened. You got to know Daryl a little more and Merle well, there wasn’t much to know that you didn’t already know. When you went to the store, Daryl would be right there with you, if you went to collect wood for the fire at night, he’d be searching with you. It was comforting knowing he was always there and it made you feel safe. The butterflies in your stomach couldn’t contain themselves every time he stopped you from going alone anywhere, you couldn’t deny the growing feeling you had for the man, even despite that way he acted like a dick in front of people because you knew exactly what he was like behind the façade. Tonight was no different, you had passed into a town where Merle had mentioned he knew some people that lived there and as soon as you set up the tents he left to go find them, he tried to convince Daryl to leave with him but he refused, claiming he was too tired but both he and Merle knew it was because he couldn’t leave you, not for anything.

The night quickly dawned on you and though the air was cold and crisp the fire that was going kept you both sufficiently warm as you emptied your tin bowls that were once filled with a questionable tinned, meat soup. Sitting in the grass, you laid your bowl down next to you before leaning back on a log you had found earlier, intended for sitting on. You gazed up at the stars and allowed yourself to get lost in the silence of the night but only briefly

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it.” You spoke almost in a whisper, a satisfied sigh passing your lips. Daryl bit down on his lip nervously as he watched, completely oblivious to the way his eyes drank in your every curve.

“Mmh” was the only sound he could even muster to make while he stayed hooked on your image. Your eyes fell from the sky and down on Daryl, you watched as he shifted his weight a little like he had just been caught cheating on a test. You couldn’t help but laugh a little at his reaction, the butterflies making their appearance again. You managed to swallow a lump in your throat you never even knew was there, your eyes escaping his.

You both awkwardly sat for a while before Daryl pushed himself off the log and down beside you. You smiled in his direction as he shifted closer to you, his arm now laying behind you on the log. You leaned into him slightly, your cheeks burning up as you did so. You couldn’t help but feel so lucky to have found someone like him, despite the cost it came at. After all the shit life had thrown at you, you felt like this was life’s way of apologising. Despite not actually being his, he treated you as if you were. Hell, he treated you better than men who actually got to call you theirs in the past. Before you knew it, your head was cradled in the crook of his neck. You didn’t know it but his heart was beating faster than he thought humanly possible, the breeze blowing the scent of your hair into his face so he couldn’t avoid it. It was like torture to him, but he liked it.

You sat like that for a while, you didn’t know how long exactly but if it ended soon it would be too soon. You watched the fire slowly going down but neither of you moved to add more fire. You finally felt his weight under your shift and almost instantly you felt disappointed. That was until you felt his finger tips, gently cradling your chin, by this point the butterflies were going crazy, you wondered if they would ever stop now you knew the feel of his hands on your face. He looked deep into your eyes as you shifted slowly to face him better, getting lost in the pattern of your iris before he leaned closer to your face, planting his lips against yours. The kiss was soft and gentle at first, like he was waiting for your approval and as soon as you kissed him back he didn’t hold back. The kiss grew hungry and his hands couldn’t get enough of your body as they thirstily explored your body, you didn’t mind in fact you loved the way his hands felt on you.

You laid there in the tent, with only a sleeping bag keeping the cool night air at bay. You stared into Daryl’s crystal blue eyes as he held you close to him. Your fingertips exploring his face neither of you could hold back your smiles. Your hands now run through his hair as he allows his eyes to close. You had never felt so loved, not like you did in this moment right now. The way his arms and legs entwined with yours felt like home. You couldn’t believe your luck. One of your hands now falling onto his bare chest, you felt him squeeze you a little tighter. The intimate moment you just shared with him made your heart burst with joy, you had fallen head over heels for him. For Daryl Dixon. You watched as the corners of his mouth lifted slightly, giving you a half smile as he attempted to drift off to sleep and you decided to do the same. You pulled yourself closer to him and placed a loving kiss on his chest before nuzzling your face into his peck and closed your eyes.

Your tender moment was cut short when you both heard bushes rustle from behind you, your eyes shooting open instantly, though you didn’t move not immediately, you waited to hear something else and you did. It was a muffled voice. “Merle” Daryl growled, pulling away from you, you both scrambled to put clothes on and leave the tent where you were greeted by Merle falling over himself, completely out of it. How’d he even find his way back. It took you a moment to realise this wasn’t just the effects of alcohol, no you saw how his eyes rolled around his head as if they lost all control. Your stomach twisted as you watched his jaw swinging. The same look you showed your sister before she died plastered all over your face. Disgust. You watched Daryl as he struggled to keep his brother still for even a second. His voice seemed to break as he cussed at his brother, almost like he was holding back tears. You couldn’t just stand and watch him struggle despite the way you felt about the situation, soon you were supporting half of Merle’s weight on your shoulder while Daryl’s shoulders took the brunt of it. You both moved your way towards one of the tents and placed Merle down on top of his sleeping bag. Turning him on his side, Daryl grunted into his hands. You left the tent without speaking, going back into your own and picking up the sleeping bags that laid on the floor. Reluctantly you turned back to the tent where Merle laid slurring on his own breath. Chucking the bags in before you entered you took a sharp, deep breath pushing your doubt further away. Daryl needs you.

Ducking back into the tent you caught Daryl’s puzzled look, he thought for sure Merle had screwed this up for him but your warm smile melted away that thought. You sat beside him and pulled the sleeping bags over your laps.

“We’re gonna have to keep an eye on him” Daryl just nodded in response, his arm wrapping around your waist to keep you close.

“M’ sorry f this.” He groaned, his thumb stroking your hip as he propped himself up against the tent, careful not to put too much weight on it. You just shook your head at his words, your hand falling into his lap and allowing your thumb to mimic his.

“This aint your fault, you don’t need to be sorry.” You whispered back. You both remained silent for the rest of the night, in and out of sleep in fear Merle will meet the same fate your sister did back at in the trailer.

The next morning, Merle woke up first. The first thing he saw was you and Daryl, cuddled up into the corner of the tent. Your head laying on his shoulder and his arm draped down your side. He couldn’t help but smirk at the image, sort of proud of his baby brother for actually going for it. It wasn’t lost on him how Daryl looked at you... in fact in the small and few moments you weren’t in ears distance he’d tease Daryl about his obvious feelings for you. You both snapped up at the smallest sound of his sleeping bag ruffling. Your heart was racing, worried that when your eyes would open you’d be staring down at Merle’s corpse, you soon settled down as you saw the sinister smirk laced all over his features, staring at you. Daryl noticed his look and his hand slowly came away from your hip. Both of you shifted awkwardly as Merle’s stare never seemed to leave you. The way he made you feel when he was looking at you was intense and you decided you had, had enough and pushed to your feet to leave the tent. The muffled sound of Merle’s laugh now behind you as you went to retrieve some water from your tent.

Your hand only entered the tent before you pulled out two bottles of water, you heard footsteps behind you but you chose not to acknowledge them until you turned on your heel. It was Daryl, you allowed yourself to relax and even let a small smile pass your lips as he walked towards you. You handed him a bottle of water, once that hand was free you twisted the cap off the bottle and engaged in a rather large intake of water. You admired the way the cold crisp water eased your throat from being dry. Until you heard that sinister laughter again, only clearer this time.

“So it finally happened, baby bro got his dick wet!” you stared daggers at the older Dixon as he left his tent, you felt Daryl move away from you which only caused you to roll your eyes.

“What the hell were you thinking last night?” you finally spat at him, taking a couple of steps in his direction.

“Woah, pretty girl. No one said ya had to play mommy!” he laughed in your direction, it took everything you had not to slap the look right from his face.

“After everything that’s happened, you go do something like that! Are you really that fucking selfish or just stupid?” your words seemed to fall on empty ears as he only shot you a look, a look that said oh well. Just then you felt Daryl’s hands on your waist, attempting to calm you down and though you hate to admit it. It did.

Just as you turned to him the empty fields filled with a blood curdling scream, echoing and bouncing off the trees. Everyone immediately stopped what they were doing and tried to pin point the direction in which the scream came from. That’s when you noticed in the distance just behind the tree’s, a silhouette of a house. You pointed in the direction and without thinking you and Daryl ran towards it. You heard Merle jog along behind you both though he attempted to convince you it wasn’t a good idea, but you both ignored him.

Finally reaching the house, you saw no one but the front door was wide open and on the porch laid a mug and the coffee that once occupied it spilled onto the wood floor. You looked over at Daryl, the worry sinking in before you passed the door frame and into the house. Everything seemed scattered, books from book shelves had fallen carelessly on the floor, the coffee table was now on its side and other decorative items scattered along the floor, some coming to their fate, no longer in one piece. You both looked around for a moment before you heard the sound of something heavy hit the floor from upstairs. Your brain didn’t have long to catch up as your legs instinctively carried you up the stairs.

No one in that house was prepared for what you saw up there. No one. It took you a second to process what was happening. At first you noticed 3 children huddled in the corner, shaking and crying, your eyes panned down to what they were so afraid of. You watched as a figure of what could have been human was hunched over what you presumed to be the children’s mother, using its hands to tear into her skin and eat it, slurping on her blood like she was nothing but spare ribs. Your stomach turned and you had to hold yourself back from throwing up. You looked back up at the children, finally hearing Daryl come from behind you. You looked around the room to stop who or whatever it was, you located a fire poker and without any hesitation you started hitting the creature, repeatedly. It didn’t seem to react much until you started hitting its head repeatedly, you just couldn’t stop. You kept going until you finally saw what looked like brains seep out of the side of its head. The creature had finally stopped moving. You took a moment to look at it. It looked human... only dead. Like it had been dead for a long time, yet it moved. This is when you threw up. Daryl had made his way to the kids attempting to block their sight, shielding them from the violence you showed. You couldn’t move. You felt Merle’s hands on you, making you drop the fire poker. He was talking to you but you just could hear him. He kept tugging on you, trying to get you to leave the room but you just couldn’t. You finally snapped out of it when you heard Daryl shout your name.

“We need to go!” Merle followed up, now he finally had your attention. You just nodded at him and followed him down the stairs. You heard Daryl put the children in another room and told them not to go anywhere, you heard him explain that he would get them soon but they just needed to stay quiet for a moment. Merle guided you outside and let his grip go as he looked around for a car of sorts. You could tell now how panicked he was, he was practically hyperventilating as he frantically looked around the property. You too now looking around, only noticing now that you were at a farm house. It looked so peaceful outside despite the horrors you just witnessed. You kept watching in the distance as Daryl approached you.

“We gotta get these kids outta here.” He spoke simply, grabbing your face to make him look at him. “It’s gonna be okay” he said softly all you could do was nod. He let go of your face as he followed his brother who had spotted a couple of cars, near a shed. Merle didn’t spare any time breaking into one and climbing into the driver's seat.

You watched as Daryl pulled open the back seat and passenger seat doors. “Need to go get the kids” Daryl announced to his brother who rolled his eyes and shook his head.

“Forget the damn kids, we need to go!” he snarled, working his fingers along the wires of the car to start the engine. You watched from the porch as they argued about the well-being of the children but your concentration was cut short at the sound of the tree’s next to the house rustling. There were more of those creatures. Your eyes widened as you started to run towards the car. You mind going 100 miles per hour as you try to figure out what to do. You knew you couldn’t get the kids in the car by the time the creatures went to the house, it wasn’t safe. Nor could you just leave them. You glanced back slightly to see how long you had exactly to save everyone and thankfully they didn’t seem to be fast. Once you reached the car you closed the back seat door.

“You need to leave now!” Your voice broke as you held onto Daryl’s arm, pushing him slightly to edge him into the passenger seat. You felt the resistance as he pushed back against you.

“No!” he growled at you but it didn’t stop you from pushing. “I ain’t goin’ without ya!” His voice was starting to break which only caused your eyes to fill with tears. Shaking your head as you finally got him to sit in the seat.

“There’s no time. They need me.” You pleaded with the southern man, your eyes spilling with tears as you attempted to shut the door. Daryl fought back, trying his best to keep the door open and push himself out. “Your brother needs you and those kids need me!” you shouted as you managed to close the door slightly, your strength over powering his despite how much he fought with you. “I’ll find you. I promise” you whimpered as you finally shut the door. Merle took it as his cue to instantly take off driving. Your breathing become difficult as you watched him drive away, your stomach dropped as you struggled to compose yourself but you had no time to dwell and just like that you took off towards the house.

It had been a while since you first saw the rise of the dead. If you had to guess you’d say about a year, maybe two. Cutting your way through a forest with a knife you came across an open field and there sat a shed. You allowed yourself to relax for a moment, finally shelter. You had been on the road for a long time and the sun was the hottest it had ever been. You turned around slightly to catch a glimpse of Cody. Cody was one of the children you saved back at the farm house when everything started. He was the only one who made it out alive after all these years. You blame yourself for letting those monsters get his sisters but you were thankful that at least he made it out okay. Though he was only 14 he sure didn’t act like it. He had to grow up fast to adapt to the new world. He smiled at you, thankful to have found the shed too. Though your victory was cut short by a sudden attack. The dead again, it had become routine for you and the boy to fight them off but they outnumbered you. You were only used to taking on maybe 4 at a time but you struggled this time. Keeping Cody at your side, you took down a couple of them, trying to keep them at bay so they couldn’t get their teeth or nails into your skin.

It felt like you were pushing against them forever until you felt the weight of one drop from your arms. The rest soon followed suit and almost instantly you pushed your back against Cody in an attempt to protect him. Looking around your gaze finally met a group of people, all with their weapons pointed in your direction. You couldn’t help but feel tense at the sight of people. Now more than ever you don't trust very easily.

“Put down your weapons” A man called out, you watched the group to locate whose voice it was that when a slender man started stepping closer to you. His gun still pointed at you but one hand held out. “We don’t want to hurt you” He announced. You found yourself in a sticky situation, the last thing you wanted to do was drop your knife but you did. Cody followed your actions and dropped his.

“Wait!” a gravelly voice shouted out beyond the tree’s. You thought for a moment you recognised it, your eyes darting around the group in hopes to see a familiar face. You watched as a man pushed through the small crowd, holding a crossbow. You couldn’t see his face but the shape of his figure was familiar to you. You didn’t know why but it felt comforting. He pushed past the man who held his gun at you and finally you saw his face. It was Daryl. Your body fell slightly as you saw him step closer to you. Your eyes welled up and you tried to catch your breath before you started walking towards him, each step faster than the other. Finally you fell into his arms. You wrapped your arms around his neck and squeezed tightly. Your body relaxing at the feel of his arms wrapped around your waist. You stayed like that for a moment in complete disbelief.

Pulling away reluctantly, your hands cupping his face, your eyes darting around his face drinking in his features allowing a small laugh pass your lips. His eyes welled up staring into your eyes again, his lips curling into a smile as the reality of you finally being in front of him again set in. “It’s really you” you whimpered your eyes not daring to leave him. He dropped his head slightly, nodding a small laugh passing his lips now. He turned slightly on his heels back towards the group, they all just laughed slightly as if they knew exactly who you were. Like you were a frequent topic of conversation.

“Y/N” a voice cracked from behind you, allowing your eyes to pull away from Daryl you looked behind you and dragged Cody into your arms.

“I found him” you whispered into Cody’s long hair, Cody just held you tightly. He knew exactly who this man was. It’s not easy to forget someone who saved your life. He finally let go of you as Daryl turned back around to get another look at you though he was met with your lips on his. He didn’t fight it, he just sank into it, his hands wrapping around your waist as if it was second nature to him despite how long it had been since he last got to hold you. This moment right here was worth every second of pain, every fight, every restless night because now you were home.

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #the walking dead daryl #twd fanfiction #twd x you #norman reedus fanfic #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x y/n

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fantastic-bby · 4 years

Text

House Sitter

Pairing: (F)Reader x Jaebeom

Word count: 10.8k

Summary: When Jaebeom moves into a new apartment, he knows that he should most likely make friends with the neighbours. He buddies up to his next door neighbour, offering her drinks while they talk on the balcony. When he needs to leave his home suddenly, he asks her to watch his home and his cats, eventually coming home to realise that his cats seem to have taken a liking to her. With more time spent away from home, Jaebeom designates his neighbour as his go-to house sitter without exactly explaining why he’s away so often...

Warnings: Guns | Mentions of the mafia | Murder | Attempted kidnapping

Masterlist

“I’m Jaebeom.” You stare at your very handsome neighbour with wide eyes. Wow. You saw him moving in the other day, but since it was a passing greeting, you couldn’t actually see his face. You can conclude that he was much more attractive up close.

“(Y/n),” you extend your hand when you’re snapped back into reality.

“Well, (Y/n), I can assure you that I’m a relatively quiet person. Though, my cats do make some noise sometimes,” he chuckles. You wonder how a person’s chuckle could be as attractive as his.

“Don’t worry about it,” you laugh. “As long as you’re not blasting music at 3 a.m. like the college students who live above us, I’ll be fine.” Jaebeom smiles and you swear you could fall in love with him right there and then.

“I guess I’ll see you around then,” he retracts his hand, giving you a small wave before he disappears into the apartment right beside yours. You stay in the spot right outside your door, wondering whether you imagined that whole affair or not. You always hear about that hot, super attractive neighbour from stories or movies which made you assume your new neighbour would end up being a family just starting out or some college student since your apartment building was quite close to one of the campuses. But no. Your new neighbour was a very handsome and a very real person who just so happened to move in next to you.

You step into your apartment and brush the thought off. You can’t just spend your time thinking or gawking at Jaebeom—that’s just weird. You spend your days as you normally do; waking up, heading off to work, having dinner and heading to bed. It’s a routine that you’re used to. Occasionally, you would head down to the 7 11 right beside your building to get ramen or chocolate when it’s 3 a.m. and you can’t sleep.

Though, your routine has changed slightly ever since Jaebeom moved in next to you. You find yourself greeting him whenever you’d see him; letting small talk fill up most of your conversations whenever you were in the lift together. There were a couple of times where he would knock on your door asking if you knew where certain places were around the area. You have the decency to keep your staring limited and subtle, watching him from the corner of your eye whenever you pretend not to notice him grabbing his mail from the mailbox which was right next to yours since his apartment number was right above yours.

You open the sliding door to your balcony, your hands stuck into the pocket of your sweater as you step out into the cold. It was a long day at work and you wanted nothing more than to just wind down. Your balcony didn’t have the most luxurious view, but the 16th floor had a lot to offer from being so high up. It was a calming space; the sound of cars driving by and the faint sound of people chatting as they walk around the park right in front of you easing up your mind.

“Hey, neighbour.” Jaebeom’s voice makes you turn to your right to see him sitting on the rattan chair of his balcony, a bottle of beer in his hand. He’s dressed in a black hoodie that looks like it’s definitely a few sizes too big, a pair of grey sweatpants. His feet are clad with a pair of white fuzzy slippers while one of his cats sits comfortably in his lap.

“Oh, hey,” you greet softly. When you notice the siamese you tilt your head curiously, “aren’t you worried your cat might jump off of the balcony?” He looks down at his cat for a moment before shaking his head.

“Nora doesn’t like high places. She avoids sitting at the edge of balconies or climbing onto the rails.” Jaebeom’s hand gently runs through her fur before he looks back up to you. “Do you have any pets in there?”

“No,” you shake your head as you turn back to the view of the city. “I don’t think I have any space or time to care for them. I’d feel bad leaving them here while I’m at work.” You’ve thought about it before. The idea of having a pet just keeping you company was tempting, but you were away at work from morning until evening and you wouldn’t know what you’d do if something happened to them. “I do love them though,” you clarify as you take a seat on the metal chair on your balcony. “They look like good company.”

“Well, my five make very good company,” he hums.

“Five?” You turn to him in disbelief. “That’s a lot of cats for one man.”

“They seem to take care of themselves when I’m away during the day,” Jaebeom chuckles as he takes a sip from the beer in his hand. “Care for one?” He holds up an unopened bottle by his side.

“Why not?” You move closer to his side and reach out, successfully grabbing onto the bottle and bringing it over to your side. “Watch this.” Jaebeom watches intently as you angle the bottle against the metal tops of the rails, swinging it down with just enough strength for the cap to pop off.

“Impressive,” he praises as he claps. “Though, you could’ve just asked me for the opener since I have it right here.” Jaebeom raises the small metal bottle opener.

“Bottle opener’s aren’t cool,” you huff, taking a swig from your bottle. You let the sour taste of the beer coat your tongue, the alcohol burning slightly as it goes down your throat. “Are you out here all the time?” you glance up at him.

“Only on nights when I need to clear my mind,” Jaebeom shrugs.

“Ahh.” You lean back in the chair, letting the silence settle between you two. There’s an occasional meow from his cat, causing you to glance over to see her stretching her paws out in front of her while Jaebeom gently pets her.

“Do you want to go back inside already?” he questions softly. You watch Jaebeom put his now empty bottle onto the glass table beside him. “Nora’s getting a bit cold, I have to bring her inside.” He stands up slowly, gently cradling his cat in his hands. “Have a good night, (Y/n).”

“Night, Jaebeom,” you wave at him as he disappears into his home. You look down at the half finished bottle in your hand, deciding to just chug the rest of it before heading into your own apartment.

The knocking on your door makes you stir in your sleep.

“(Y/n)! Wake up, please!” You pull yourself out of bed groggily, dragging yourself to the front door and swinging it open. Your eyes squint as they adjust to the light of the hallway.

“Jaebeom? It’s like 2 a.m., what the hell?”

“Can you watch my cats, please? Just for a few days.” His voice sounds frantic.

“What?”

“Please? I have some things I need to handle, so I won’t be coming home for a few days and I need to go now. I can’t call up the cat sitter because it’s too last minute and you’re the only person I know in this building,” Jaebeom explains frantically. “Please?” You let out a sigh before nodding. “Okay, yes, thank you! Here’s my number and my house keys,” he pushes the piece of paper and the set of keys into your hands. “I’ll text you all the details on how to care for them later.”

“How many of them are there again?” you question.

“There’s only five. They’re not that hard to care for. You just have to feed them and clean their litter tray.”

“How long are you going to be gone?”

“I’m honestly not sure. Just check in on them every few hours—you could honestly stay over at my place too if you’d like, I don’t mind. Give me a text and I’ll send you all the details. I’m so sorry that it’s last minute.” You barely have any time to respond before he’s dashing down the hallway. You blink a couple times before looking at the paper and keys in your hands. Deciding to not worry Jaebeom, you close your front door and move back into your bedroom to text in the numbers.

(Y/n): Jaebeom…? [3:43] It’s (Y/n).

Jaebeom: Hey, again, sorry for pushing this onto you so suddenly. [3:45] You can live in my apartment for a while if you’d like too. The guest room is the one opposite my bedroom. [3:46]

You sigh before laying down, putting your phone aside. You’ll check what you need to do in the morning and when you’re not half asleep.

Feed them twice a day. Odd’s on a diet so you have to feed her the food from the pink bag. Make sure she doesn’t eat out of the other’s bowls and be careful because she might try and steal your food.

You stick the keys into the lock before pushing open his door, immediately being greeted with two cats—the siamese you recognised as Nora and a munchkin—staring up at you curiously. You pull your phone up to cross check the pictures Jaebeom had sent you with the cats just to be sure.

“You must be…” you trail off as you scroll through your chat. “Cake.” When she meows in response to her name, you take that as affirmation. “Okay, I saw you the other day on the balcony, so I’m going to assume you’re Nora.”

“Mrreow.”

“I’ll take that as a yes.” You move into his kitchen, your eyes stuck to your phone as you navigate through his kitchen. “Okay…” you trail off as you stop.

Cat food’s in the cupboard below the sink. They’re labeled with coloured tags at the top of the bags.

Upon opening the cupboard, you immediately see the bags he was talking about. A blue sticky note is stuck on one of them and you pull that out, looking for the cat bowls that he said would be in the kitchen.

I labelled the bowls so you would find them easily.

You see the four bowls lined up neatly against the side of the fridge, all of them having small notes stuck to the side with letters scribbled onto them. N, C, K, O. “Okay, simple enough,” you mutter to yourself as you fill the bowl labelled ‘O’ with the blue tagged biscuits before switching out the bags to fill in the other cats’ bowls.

The sound of the biscuits hitting the bowl seems to be some kind of an alarm for the cats. They start filling the kitchen immediately. The one you notice must be Odd starts trying to steal the bites from the other cats, causing you to push her away.

“Hey, hey, don’t do that,” you gently push her towards her bowl instead. She’s persistent which makes you turn to your phone for help.

If Odd won’t eat from her bowl, bring her and the bowl in my bedroom and watch her until she finishes eating. She might throw up because she doesn’t chew her food properly. Slow her down if you don’t hear her biting down on her food.

You slip your phone into your pocket and gently lift up the white cat in one hand, cradling her against your chest before picking up the food bowl with your other hand. You make your way towards the first door that you assume is the bedroom—glad that your assumption was right—and place Odd down at the door with the food bowl in front of her. You sit down on the floor beside her and pull your phone out of your pocket as you start scrolling through the list of things that Jaebeom had sent you to do.

The food’s running out, so if I’m not back by the time it’s empty, go ahead and buy it. I’ll pay you back when I get home.

You sigh as you lean your head against the door. You don’t usually house-sit or cat-sit for anyone, leaving you completely new with the idea of having to take care of someone else's home. When you realise the lack of crunching coming from the white fluffy cat beside you, you quickly pull her away gently.

“Slow down, sweetie,” you mutter, running your hand down her back to calm her down. You wait a minute or two before letting her continue with her meal before turning your attention back to your phone. You run through the list a few more times, making sure you have at least the gist of it.

You look up from your phone, letting your curiosity take over as you look around Jaebeom’s bedroom. His room is simply decorated, his bed messily made to show that he really was in a rush when he was leaving. His desk sits towards the left side of his room, right beside the window. Papers scatter the desk and a plant sits at the corner of it. You look through the list once again, wondering whether you have to care for the plant as well.

The plant in my bedroom is fake. It’s just there for decoration lol

You snort to yourself as you look away from your phone. You wonder what was so urgent that Jaebeom wouldn’t realise how long he would be gone for. That’s not your business though. You shake the thought out of your head, turning to Odd only to realise that she’s staring at you. You pick up the bowl while standing up and open the door, letting the white fluffy feline run out to greet the rest of her cat family.

You look around the apartment, wondering whether there was anything else that you needed to do before concluding that you were done for the morning.

There’s some stuff in the fridge that you can eat if I’m not home by Thursday. Better that someone uses them instead of me just throwing them away when I get back.

You look through his fridge, checking the expiry dates to see which ones are closer to expiration. You hum when you see the packet of rice cakes that would expire in a day or two. You send him a quick text giving him the inventory of what you had found.

(Y/n): Attached image (3) [21:24] ?

You realise that Jaebeom takes quite a while to answer messages, leaving you to just set your phone down on the counter while you continue going through his fridge. He has an abundance of alcohol which isn’t anything new for a man in his mid twenties who’s living alone.

(Y/n): Attached image (1) [21:30] Am I allowed to? c:

Jaebeom: Go ahead. At least it’s a way for me to thank you for doing this :) [21:34]

If I’m not back on Sunday, a friend of mine is coming over to make sure everything’s in order. I hope that doesn’t make you feel weird or anything, but my cats are my babies and I wanna make sure they’re okay.

It’s understandable that Jaebeom would have someone come over to check it out. Though, you do wonder why he didn’t just have one of his friends come over to house sit, but you don’t question it that much. After a few days of taking care of his home, you realise that it’s just more convenient since you’re his neighbour and you would be right there to take care of his cats without having to travel far.

The doorbell rings and it makes you turn away from your laptop. You push yourself off of the couch and make your way to the door, opening it to reveal the man who you assume is Jaebeom’s friend.

“(Y/n)...?” he questions. You nod. “JB hyung asked me to come and make sure his cats are okay since I live ten minutes away.”

“I’ve been following the instructions he sent me a while ago and his cats seem happy,” you say as you let him into the apartment. You’re only aware of just how tall he is when he walks past you.

“He’s not particular about things, so I honestly don’t think he cares about anything else other than his cats,” he snorts. He’s immediately greeted by Jaebeom’s cats, all of them recognising him immediately. “Hey, kitties, how are you?” he coos. “I’m Yugyeom, by the way.” He glances over at you and you nod.

“Jaebeom didn’t mention a name. I assume because he knows I wouldn’t know any of his friends anyway.” You move back to the couch, picking up your laptop. “Do you know when he might be back?” Yugyeom hums in thought as he stands up, looking around the apartment.

“He didn’t mention when he would, but he did ask me to tell you that if you do end up buying cat food, let him know and he’ll bank you the money,” he says. He walks into Jaebeom’s bedroom, leaving you to work on the couch. “Did you make JB hyung’s bed?” Yugyeom peeks out of the bedroom. You look up and nod.

“I asked him if I could. It irked me since I have to bring Odd into his bedroom so she won’t gobble up the others’ food and he said I could,” you explain as you turn back to your screen.

“JB hyung barely ever makes his bed,” he comments as he steps back out into the living room. “I think you’re doing a better job at taking care of his apartment than him.”

“I’ve kinda just gotten used to being around here, so I started cleaning up like how I would clean up my own apartment.” Yugyeom spends more time walking around Jaebeom’s apartment before stopping in the living room.

“I think that’s all I needed to do here,” he looks around the living room one more time before his eyes land on you. “Oh, I feel like I should mention this; JB hyung wants you to have my number just in case anything happens and you need some help.” You don’t question it as you pull your phone out and exchange numbers with the man. “Alright, so I’ll leave you to your own company. Just give me a call or a text if you need anything, yeah?” Yugyeom flashes you a smile before leaving the apartment.

When Jaebeom steps into his apartment at three a.m., he half expects a mess and half expects that you would’ve taken care of his cats as well as Yugyeom said you did. He’s pleased when he’s greeted by the sight of his cats scurrying to greet him at the door, but he’s less so when he sees you passed out on the couch with your laptop on the coffee table.

Jaebeom frowns. Didn’t he mention that you could use his guest room? He takes a step closer, realising that you must’ve passed out unintentionally. The soft glow of your laptop screen gives him a glimpse of your unfinished reports and he sighs softly. Grabbing a blanket from his room, he gently lays it over you before pretty much knocking out the moment he gets into his bed. He barely even feels his cats climbing into bed with him, all five of them missing his company for the week he was gone.

When you wake up in the morning, your mind doesn’t even register that there’s a blanket on you until you feel it in your hands. You look around the apartment in confusion. You definitely didn’t have a blanket on you since you weren’t planning on staying in Jaebeom’s apartment that night. It’s only when you hear the snores coming from his bedroom that you realise he must’ve finally came home. The sound of you moving around seems to catch the attention of Koonta, the black cat padding through the open door of Jaebom’s bedroom and towards you.

“Good morning,” you hum as you crouch down and pet the male.

“Morning, neighbour,” Jaebeom’s raspy voice greets you. You look up from the cat to see him standing in the doorway of his bedroom, a lazy smile on his face. “Thanks for taking care of them for me. I’ll make it up to you somehow.”

“I drank like two bottles of your beer, I’ll take that as you paying me back.” You stand up from the ground with a small smile.

“Care to stay for breakfast?” His offer makes you hesitant.

“I honestly feel like I shouldn’t…” you trail off.

“You’ve spent a whole week taking care of my cats. It’s the most that I can do.” Jaebeom doesn’t wait for you to say anything before he’s heading into the kitchen. You watch as his other cats slip out of his room, chasing after their cat dad. “Could you feed them while I make breakfast?”

“Sure.” You do what you usually do, pulling the bags out of the cupboard and filling the bowls. “I’ll bring Odd into the bedroom.”

“Oh, hold on,” he stops you. “Let me show you this.” Jaebeom crouches down in front of Odd and places his finger in front of her. “Your bowl only.” He lets her head to the bowl, but when she tries to reach for the others, he gently pulls her back. “No. Odd. Your bowl only,” he says more sternly this time. He holds his hand in front of her face for a moment longer before you both watch as she obediently heads straight to her bowl. You watch in awe as she focuses only on her bowl.

“No way,” you breathe out a chuckle. “I tried doing that a few days ago and she refused to eat out of her bowl.”

“She only does that when I’m here. My friends have tried doing it before too,” Jaebeom laughs as he watches his cats eat. “It doesn’t work unless I’m doing it.”

“You are her father after all,” you quip, causing him to let out a louder laugh. You glance over at him, noting the way the outer corners of his eyes crinkle when he smiles. Jaebeom returns to making breakfast while you attend to his cats, watching to make sure Odd doesn’t try and eat out of her bowl. You’re surprised that Jaebeom was all it took for her to stop eating out of the others’ bowls.

The rest of the morning is spent with you sharing a breakfast with Jaebeom, learning more about his life. His cats are all rescue cats. He says it's because he feels bad whenever he sees stray cats roaming around the area and his cat children are the result of him being unable to hold back when he sees them.

“I feel like I should let you know that I might disappear a lot,” Jaebeom says as he takes his empty plate into the kitchen.

“Is it work?” you question, following him with your own plate in your hands.

“Yeah, it needs a lot of… last minute attention,” he nods. You refrain against asking him to elaborate more on it. It does, however, leave you wondering as to what he does that would need him to disappear often. “Thank you for taking care of my children,” Jaebeom glances over at how Koonta seems to be all over you. “I see that Koonta has taken a liking to you,” he chuckles.

“He actually only started to warm up to me after Yugyeom came over.” You crouch down once more to pet the black cat. “Oh, I didn’t end up buying any cat food because I didn’t know when you’d be back.”

“That’s fine,” Jaebeom reassures you. “Again, (Y/n), thank you so much for this.”

“It’s no problem,” you wave it off with a smile on your face. “Just give me a heads up next time and maybe don’t come banging at my door at 3 a.m. next time.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he laughs.

“Just let me know if there’s anything else that you need help with. I’d be more than happy to help.”

“Thank you, (Y/n). I’ll see you around.”

“On the balcony again, huh?” Jaebeom smiles when you turn his way. If you’re being honest, you’re only on the balcony because he’s there. You notice that he usually spends his Friday nights drinking away on his chair while Nora sleeps soundly in his lap, Baire occasionally coming out before Jaebeom shoos him back into the apartment.

“Yeah.” You lean against the metal rail and look out, letting the cold breeze hit your skin. The air is cold, but it isn’t cold enough that you don’t actually want to be outside. You honestly would rather be outside if it meant that you could spend more time talking to Jaebeom.

“Here,” Jaebeom holds out an unopened bottle of soju which you take without much question since he would often share his drinks with you whenever you’d meet up. He glances over at you when he takes a sip of his alcohol, watching the way you unscrew the cap, your hand fiddling with the metal cap. The moonlight isn’t that bright tonight, but as the clouds move, the light slowly casts over your face and gives Jaebeom a clearer look of your face. He wouldn’t deny he’s definitely taken a liking to you, but he knows it’s dangerous if he does.

“How are the cats?”

“Good,” he nods, taking a swig of his beer. “But I feel like lately they’ve been a bit more active. They seem to like having you around.” Jaebeom glances over at you as you chuckle.

“They’ve really warmed up to me the last time I came over.” You bring the bottle to your lips, a small smile growing on your face.

“I feel like Koonta might like you more than he likes me now,” Jaebeom quips, causing you to let out a laugh.

“Does he?” You angle your body towards him, your amusement growing when you see his smile.

“When I came home yesterday, he scratched at the door after you left—wanting you to come back or wanting to follow you out.” A chuckle leaves his lips when he finishes talking, the bottle of grape soju in his hand raising to his lips. “Just take that as a sign that you’re now my designated house sitter.”

“I personally don’t mind,” you hum, “you were right after all.” Jaebeom gives you a curious look; one that honestly matches the ones his cats give you. “Your cats make good company.” Jaebeom laughs at that, the sound sending warmth straight into your heart. A comfortable silence settles between the two of you once again. It was always like this. You’d come out onto your balcony, Jaebeom would offer you a drink and you’d chat or just sit in each other’s company until one of you would head back in.

It wasn’t much of actually spending time with each other, but the both of you enjoyed it. Jaebeom would never admit out loud that he wanted you over more. He had thought about inviting you over for more dinners other than that night before when you were locked out of your apartment. He turns away from you to look at the sky instead. The stars are covered by the clouds, but Jaebeom’s able to catch a glimpse of them before turning back to you.

God how he wishes he could actually ask you out without the constant fear hanging over his head. For the sake of your safety and his, he holds back. Jaebeom keeps the relationship platonic despite his want to be more with you. You’re simply his friend, his neighbour, and his go-to house sitter.

Jaebeom: (Y/n) [3:00] Are you awake? I’m so sorry it’s so late

(Y/n): Sorry, I was doing work [3:05] What’s up?

Jaebeom: Watch the cats, please? [3:06] You can sleep in the guest room if you want

(Y/n): Sure [3:07] I’ll be over in like 5 minutes Let me get my stuff

“Baire, don’t scratch the couch,” you whine for the third time that night. The male simply stares at you before dragging his claws down. “God, Jaebeom is going to actually kill me—stop it!” You pull yourself off of the dining chair and make your way towards him. Upon seeing your approach, Baire runs away from the couch, making you sigh. “So, you know it’s a bad thing yet you still do it?” You cross your arms over your chest, watching as he scurries up the cat tower in the corner of the living room.

Baire dives straight into the cat hammock at the top where Koonta is. The black male yelps at the sudden disturbance of the Russian Blue. “Little asshole,” you sigh before moving back to the dining room where your laptop is. Odd and Cake have made themselves comfortable on the dining table, curling up on both sides of your laptop while Nora rests on the chair beside yours. It seems that they’ve all gotten more comfortable with your presence. Rather than running away like he usually would, Baire is more playful around you.

You also realised how Odd was slowly starting to listen to you whenever you’d scold her for trying to steal food from her cat siblings. The days that you spent taking care of them whenever Jaebeom wasn’t home was starting to show just why he loved them so much. They were all absolute bundles of joy that would just light up the apartment. You even found yourself spending your days when you weren’t at work over at Jaebeom’s place only to head back to your own to sleep.

“Mreooww~” Cake mewls your way. You look up from your laptop to see her lazily watching you.

“What is it, sweetie?” you gently nudge her face with your hand. She closes her eyes before laying her head on your arm while you continue working. Your phone buzzes beside you, making you turn to see a notification from Yugyeom.

Yugyeom: Noona, how are you? [13:39] Wait, am I allowed to address you that way?

(Y/n): You’ve been addressing me that way for the past month [13:39] Why ask now lol Baire won’t stop scratching the couch [13:40] Every time I try to move closer to him when he does, he runs away

Yugyeom: Haha [13:40] JB hyung says he does that a lot

(Y/n): Jaebeom would actually kill me if he found out Baire scratched up the couch [13:41] He said the next thing he loves more than his cats is his couch I don’t understand why That man is a mystery to me [13:42]

Yugyeom: Don’t worry about it too much [13:43] He’s weird like that I actually got some ramen somewhere nearby your building I’m gonna drop some off for you

(Y/n): What [13:45] Nooooo Gyeom, it’s okay D:

Yugyeom: Can’t stop me c: [13:46] I’m already in the lobby I’ll be at hyung’s apartment in like 5 minutes

You stare at your phone, knowing well that he had only told you that now to stop you from stopping him. You put your phone down with a huff. Yugyeom had started dropping by more often to either check up on the apartment or to check up on you. Overtime, he had started just dropping by to talk to you, bringing along food or snacks for you. The more time you spend watching Jabebeom’s apartment, the more often Yugyeom would pop in unannounced.

The knock on your door makes you lean back in your chair as you hear the door unlock, Yugyeom’s head peeking into the apartment with a bright smile on his face. “You know, you really didn’t have to bring me ramen,” you mutter as he steps in with a red plastic bag in his hands.

“You mentioned that sometimes you skip meals because you’re working,” he hums as he places the bag on the table. “JB hyung also told me to make sure you're healthy too.” Your eyes widen in surprise.

“Did he?”

“Yep.” You watch silently as Yugyeom takes the packet out of the bag as well as the wooden chopsticks. “JB hyung’s like that. He cares for everyone around him, but he’s been bothering me extra over making sure you’re healthy.” He flashes you a smile.

“O-Oh,” you sit upright as you let the thought settle in your mind. “Could just be because I’m caring for his cats, really,” you quip. Yugyeom laughs at that, taking the seat across from you that isn’t occupied by any cats.

“Hyung may seem a bit mysterious at times, but he really does care for the people that he asks favours for. He’s like that. He always feels like he needs to repay people who help him.”

“Is that why he keeps buying me food whenever he’s around?”

“Most likely, yes,” Yugyeom nods. “He likes to use food as a way to repay people. He might also take you to the bar a lot to buy you drinks.”

“So that’s why he’s so chill about me taking his beer,” you lean back in your chair in realisation.

“JB hyung lets you drink his alcohol?” There’s a bewildered look on his face. “JB hyung buys us drinks, but he never lets us take the beer from his fridge.”

“Really? I always ask him if I can and he always lets me,” you tell him. Yugyeom’s nose scrunches in confusion.

“Maybe that’s his way of paying you back,” he simpers. “Eat up before your ramen gets cold.” You look down at the bowl, only them remembering that there was ramen in front of you. “How’s work been?” he asks as you start eating.

“It’s the usual,” your shoulders raise into a shrug. “It’s been getting busier lately because we’re been trying to snatch up a few clients and they’re apparently really hard to convince sometimes. Since I’m part of the team that’s supposed to handle them, I have to do most of the reports and the planning for us.”

“I’m pretty sure you’ll be able to get them in the end,” Yugyeom chirps. “I have faith in you, noona.” His encouragement sends a wave of joy through you.

“Thanks, Gyeom.”

(Y/n): I’m dropping by the pet store to get some cat food [20:01]

“You guys will be fine on your own, right?” You turn to the litter of cats watching as you pull your coat off of the counter.

“Nyiaoooo~” Baire mewls. You check your phone once again, hoping to see a message from Jaebeom. When there’s none, you just assume he’s busy and slip your phone into the pocket of your pants.

“Alright, I’ll see you guys in about an hour.” You slip your coat on and step out of the apartment, making your way down the building. The pet store wasn’t too far away from your building, making you opt to walk rather than taking any bus to save up on money. You dig your hands into the pocket of your winter jacket, huddling yourself further into your coat. When you approach the store, you’re pleased to see that it’s only started closing, meaning you have about ten minutes to run in and grab whatever you need.

You step in, being greeted by the store clerk, though you’re sure they were hoping no one would come in at the last minute. You’re quick to grab the bags you need, paying for the cat foot before making your way out. “Why is cat food so heavy?” you huff to yourself as you keep having to adjust your grip on the two bags.

You drop the bags when a hand suddenly grabs you and pulls you into an alleyway, hand clamped over your mouth. You’re shoved against the cold wall of the building, your eyes wide with fear as you stare at the man.

“You work for that dickhead, don’t you?” he growls. Your body is frozen in fear as you stare at him.

“Boss, we could probably get his attention if we bring her along,” the man beside him chuckles. There’s a handful of them behind him, watching you intently.

“We could use you. Your pretty face could finally get his attention,” he lets out a dark chuckle before glancing at the other man. “Get the truck ready. We’re bringing her with us.” Before he can do anything else, the sound of a gun firing almost deafens you. You watch in absolute horror when you see the man behind him falling to the ground and into a pool of his own blood.

“Yeah right.” You look towards the streets and see Jaebeom. But there’s a gun in his hands. Jaebeom—your neighbour—has a gun in his hands and he’s not only shot someone, but he’s holding it to the man who was going to kidnap you. “Get (Y/n) out of here. I’ll take care of these bastards.”

Hands are on your shoulders and you scream when the sound of another gun is fired. “Noona! It’s me! It’s Yugyeom!” the younger man frantically says. You turn to him with wide eyes. “We have to go.” He pulls you away before you can even say anything else, dragging you away from the alley with two other men.

“Get her inside, I need to help Jaebeom,” one of them orders Yugyeom. The younger male nods, pulling you into a black van and closing the door.

“BamBam, drive!” he yells. The van swerves out of it’s spot. Your mind barely has any time to process what has just happened. You stare ahead as Yugyeom’s hand runs up and down your back gently. There’s two other men in the van, one of them in the front with the driver while the other one sits behind you and Yugyeom.

“Here,” the one behind you hands you a water bottle. Your hands shakily reach out to it, giving him a nod of thanks.

“(Y/n) noona, are you okay?” Yugyeom asks softly. When you try to speak, the image of the man from before is flashed across your mind, and suddenly, Jaebeom. Jaebeom enters your mind. Jaebeom, your neighbour who killed someone, is still in the alley.

“J-Jaebeom…” you manage to stutter out.

“Jaebeom hyung is fine,” he reassures you. “He has Jinyoung hyung and Mark hyung.”

“H-He… shot someone,” you look up at Yugyeom. He has a conflicted look on his face as he turns to look at the man behind you.

“Yeah, JB hyung does that,” the man behind you says. You turn to him and he’s giving you a look as though he’s used to the kind of reaction you’re having. “We do that.”

“W-What?”

“He never mentioned what we did, huh?” Yugyeom sighs. “The reason why JB hyung kept having to disappear so often was because he would have to go under the radar or if we had ‘issues’ that we needed to settle.”

“JB hyung will be fine,” the other man reassures you. “I’m Youngjae,” he smiles.

“(Y/n),” you mutter out. “S-So, you guys k-kill people?” You look up at Yugyeom.

“Only when we have to.” Your brain struggles to actually comprehend the thought. These men kill people. “We don’t kill just because we want to.”

“We do it when we have no other choice,” Youngjae adds. You turn to him.

“JB hyung only shot that guy in the alley because if he didn’t, they probably would’ve hurt you instead.” Yugyeom’s hand finds your shoulder, giving you a gentle squeeze, “you’re going to think it’s your fault, but trust me noona, it’s really not. Those guys have been trying to get JB hyung’s ass for the past three years.”

“We’ll take you to a safe place. Somewhere you can rest.” You nod at that, your mind still struggling to process what had happened. The rest of the ride is filled with chatter among the four men. The man in front—who you had learned was Jackson—was constantly critiquing BamBam on his driving.

“Dude, if you keep driving like that, you’ll end up killing everyone in the back too,” Jackson huffs.

“Hyung, shut the fuck up before I kick you out,” BamBam glares at him.

“Eyes on the road!” he exclaims.

“I’ll drive with my eyes closed. Just you watch.” BamBam closes his eyes with his hands still on the wheel, the van swerving precariously.

“Bam, open your fucking eyes and just drive like a decent human!” Yugyeom yells at him. The driver huffs as he complies.

“It’s not like me crashing the van would do anything.”

“With noona in here, it would.”

“JB hyung would kill you if you got (Y/n) hurt,” Jackson snorts.

“He would actually run you over,” Youngjae laughs. You look between them, your mind too scrambled to actually be phased by what they’re saying. You lean back in the seat beside Yugyeom, your head pressed against the window of the van. You honestly don’t know where they’re taking you, but they all say that it’s a safe place. The exhaustion starts to settle in your body, your eyelids fluttering close.

Youngjae peeks over at you. “Why does JB hyung like her so much? He’s never really given much care to anyone else before,” he questions when he realises you’re asleep.

“Is it because she’s his house-sitter?” Jackson glances from his seat in the front.

“JB hyung just says to keep her safe,” Yugyeom shrugs. “He kept telling me to visit her whenever he was away to make sure she was eating enough and taking breaks.”

“Does he have a crush on her or something?” BamBam snorts. “JB hyung only acts like this around someone when he likes them a lot. He wouldn’t just shoot a dude in the head in public like that if he didn’t.”

Yugyeom turns to look at you, his heart starting to sympathise with you. You had been thrown into this situation just because you were taking care of Jaebeom’s cats. Now you had not only put Jaebeom in danger, but yourself as well. All because he had a soft spot for you.

When you come to, you’re in a bedroom you definitely don’t recognise. You slowly sit up, looking around half drowsy and half confused. The events from before fill your head and you assume that the bedroom you’re in must be that safe place Yugyeom had mentioned the night before. The door opens slowly, light from outside slivering into the dark room.

“You’re awake,” Jaebeom’s voice fills the room. You turn to look at him and nod slightly. “How are you feeling? Do you want anything to eat? Drink maybe? If you want to take a shower Jackson doesn’t mind letting you use his bathroom,” he rambles.

“I’m fine,” you reassure him softly. He takes slow steps towards the bed, sitting on the end of it. You sit upright in the bed, waiting for him to say something. When he doesn’t, you stay quiet; letting the silence fill the space instead.

“I’m sorry,” he finally says. “I’m sorry I roped you into this.” Jaebeom turns to you, his eyes holding pure guilt. “You can… you don’t have to watch my place anymore if this whole situation,” he gestures to himself, “scares you.” You stare at him for a moment without saying anything. You didn’t want to leave him and his cats all alone, but you weren’t exactly too keen on the idea that Jaebeom was in this kind of a gang. Hell, if he killed people when he needed to, what other questionable things has he done?!

“I don’t know, Jaebeom,” you whisper out.

“It’s okay.” You catch the way he swallowed thickly. “I’ll, uhh, leave you to your own space. If you need anything, the guys are outside.”

“Okay.”

“Get some rest, (Y/n).” Jaebeom gives you a small smile before stepping out of the room where his friends are, their attention immediately moving to him.

“Is she okay?” Mark asks, glancing away from the TV to look at him.

“She said she is. I didn’t want to intrude, so I’m just letting her do her own thing.” He takes a seat beside Mark on the couch, watching as the elder continues playing PUBG.

“Hyung, if she leaves, who’s going to take care of your cats?” BamBam questions.

Jaebeom turns to him and sighs, “I feel like somehow that’s the least of my worries right now.” Everyone’s heads snap towards him. Mark’s controller is tossed onto the couch while they all rush to surround him.

“You’re more worried about (Y/n) than you are about your cats?” Youngjae gives him a bewildered look and the leader can only nod. None of them could believe that for the first time ever, Jaebeom was more worried about a person rather than his own cat babies.

“I don’t know—I mean—Yugyeom can always check on my cats while I’m working. He’s the one who knows how to lay low anywhere,” he glances at the younger male, “but…”

“But what?” BamBam presses. Jaebeom struggles to word it out. You were almost kidnapped all because of the soft spot he’s harboured for you in his heart. He knew he should’ve taken the extra step into making sure you weren’t wandering around on your own when word started to spread that he was closer to his neighbour.

“I just like being around her. I don’t want to have to move again, but I know that if I don’t, then I’ll just be putting her in more danger.” Jaebeom’s words are soft as they leave his mouth. He really doesn’t want to have to pretend you never existed. He’s never seen his cats take a liking to someone so quickly like his cats did with you. Jaebeom’s also never seen someone so quick to offer to watch his apartment. He barely even spoke to you before asking you for help yet you still came by and took care of his home when he couldn’t.

“Hyung, you haven’t…” Youngjae trails off.

“Are you falling in love with her?” Jinyoung speaks up, his voice making everyone turn to look at him. Jaebeom inhales deeply as he looks at his friend before nodding slowly.

“I think I am.” The air seems to change in the room as all of them realise why he kept asking Yugyeom to check up on you.

“So, what do we do now?”

“It’s all up to (Y/n) noona and whether or not she’s willing to still be involved with JB hyung,” Yugyeom points out. “If she doesn’t want to, JB hyung will have to move out again and pretend he never knew her.”

“And if she does?” BamBam looks to Jaebeom.

“Then we have to start keeping her safe too,” he mutters. “But, the fact that those assholes would go as far as trying to kidnap her so publicly just shows that they’re probably willing to go an extra mile just to get my ass to give them money.”

“Money that you don’t even owe them, might I add,” Mark scoffs, “they’re just being greedy little rats. I can’t believe they’re ballsy enough to risk their entire operation being blown just because they want you to pay up.”

“Jackson,” Jaebeom turns to the man who’s too occupied with Youngjae’s dog to actually be listening to what’s happening. “Jacks.”

“Huh, yeah?” he whips his head towards Jaebeom.

“I have to head back home to check on my cats. Can you keep (Y/n) safe?”

“Of course,” he nods.

“I’ll head back with you. I don’t want anything happening just because you’ll be on your own.” Mark stands from the couch, smoothing down his shirt before moving to Jaebeom’s side.

“In that case, I’ll just head home then,” Yugyeom announces as he stands.

“I’ll drive you back,” BamBam offers.

“Yeah, no, I’ll drive you back.” He raises his hand in front of his friend, giving him a look.

“Fine,” he groans, pulling the keys out of his pocket and slapping it into Yugyeom’s hand.

“Jackson, you’ll be fine on your own?” Jinyoung questions as he stands up, “I have some things I need to settle at the office.”

“I’ll be fine. Worst comes to worst, I’ll just call you guys,” Jackson nods.

“Hyung, I’ll follow you to the office,” Youngjae pipes in as he clasps the leash onto Coco’s collar.

“If she doesn’t come out in a few hours, check up on her,” Jaebeom adds before leaving. Jackson bids his friends goodbye before locking up, moving into the living room to clean up.

Meanwhile, you’re sitting on the bed, listening as Jackson moves around his home. You could tell from the sound of the front door opening and closing that they had all left. You let out a sigh and fall back into the bed. You didn’t want to leave Jaebeom all alone with his cats, but you were honestly frightened with what you had unintentionally uncovered. The biggest question at the moment is whether or not you could just look past Jaebeom’s profession.

There’s a knock on your door that Jackson’s voice follows, “(Y/n)? Can I come in?”

“Sure,” you call out, sitting up in the bed to see him peeking his head into the room.

“How are you feeling?” He takes a seat at the edge of the bed, far enough from you that he isn’t invading your space but enough that he silently wants to offer you his company.

“Tired. Confused. I don’t know,” you sigh. “I don’t know what to do.”

“That’s okay,” Jackson reassures you. “If I were in your position I wouldn’t know what to do either. I don’t want to put any pressure on you or anything, but just know that Jaebeom would never do anything he doesn’t have to. He looks out for his own, but when the time comes, he has to do something. If he didn’t do what he did in the alley they probably would’ve killed you instead.” You stare at him, his words only adding to the stress in your mind.

“Thanks, that totally helps me with a decision,” you roll your eyes sarcastically.

“I mean, you don’t necessarily have to make a decision.”

“I have to choose whether or not I want to keep in touch with Jaebeom.” Your fingers play with the soft fabric of the blanket that covers your legs. “I don’t want to pretend he never existed, but I’m scared of him.” Your legs instinctively curl closer to your body as you sit there, suddenly feeling more vulnerable. Whether it’s Jackson’s presence or the idea that Jaebeom scares you—you’re not too sure.

“If you really want to keep in touch with him, then you have to push aside a few morals. But,” Jackson pauses, “I’d understand why you would choose the other option.” He continues to sit there for a while longer before he feels like he is invading your space. “I’m gonna go take a shower. If you need anything, my bedroom’s right beside yours.” He lets out a soft grunt as he stands up from the bed.

“Thanks, Jackson.” You manage to offer him a small smile. “Thank you for letting me stay over too.”

“We can’t let you head back to your place since those guys might be lurking around your building. Plus, Jaebeom probably wouldn’t let you out of his sight unless your safety is guaranteed,” he chuckles as he leaves you to your own company. Your eyes move to look at the wall instead, letting the options weigh in your mind. You let out a frustrated sigh when your mind once again reaches a dead end, hanging your head as you think through it once again.

It’s either you leave him or you stay.

“Thanks for the ride, Jackson,” you turn to him with a small smile.

“Don’t worry about it. Just let me know when you’re up there so I know you’re safe.” You give him a nod as you step out of his car. Making your way up to your apartment, you stop outside of Jaebeom’s door. You made a decision. You want to stay. Jaebeom is worth the trouble. You press the doorbell, hearing it ring from within the apartment. When there’s no answer, your shoulders sag slightly before you decide to just head into your own home.

(Y/n): Hey [12:00] Jackson just dropped me off I’m home now

You switch to Jackson’s chat, sending him a quick message before placing your phone onto your counter. You hadn’t showered while spending the night at Jackson’s place since you didn’t have any of your own clothes, so you make your way into your bathroom first. Stepping out, you check your emails to see if you had missed anything important before your phone catches your eye. When there’s no notification on your screen, you open Jaebeom’s chat once again.

Pending

You tilt your head curiously, wondering where he would be. Your messages would typically go through. If he was in hiding any time when you were watching his apartment, they would still be sent immediately. You place your phone back onto the counter, thinking that maybe it just needed more time to go through. You go on with your day, finishing up whatever work you had with your phone sitting beside you as you waited for any kind of a message from Jaebeom.

When your phone dings, you check it immediately. You’re slightly nervous when you see the long message from him. Then, your heart drops. You shoot from your couch, almost knocking your laptop off of the table in the process. You pay it no mind as you grab Jaebeom’s extra key off of your counter. You step out into the hallway, turning to look at his front door.

“No, no, no, no,” you repeat as you jam the key into the door and turn the lock. You burst into the apartment and you stare at it in disbelief.

It’s empty.

Your chest tightens, tears welling in your eyes and your throat feels like it’s suddenly dry. There’s no sign of anyone living there at all other than the marks of where his sofa was supposed to be. How the hell did he move out so quickly? And how did it happen overnight?! You rush into his bedroom—empty. You move to the guest room—empty. Even his old chair on the balcony is gone. Everything was gone; Jaebeom was gone. Tears fall freely down your cheek. You don’t even know when you started crying.

How could he just leave like that? He didn’t even wait for you to say anything. You fall onto the ground, looking around the empty apartment. There’s the faint smell of what you can only describe as cat fur lingering in the air. “What the fuck?” you breathe out in between sobs. Your phone dings in your hand once again.

Jaebeom: I’m sorry [19:17] But you’re not safe around me I can’t risk you getting hurt Thank you for everything.

2 years. 2 years was how long it took before you finally felt okay. Add another year to that and you had almost stopped thinking about Jaebeom completely. Of course, his memory remains etched in your mind forever, but you slowly started to push past it. After coming to terms with the fact that he was actually gone, you felt less restrained by the thought of him. Though, you did start to feel more anger than you did sadness. The fact that he left so suddenly without anything else made you upset. Were you that easy for him to just let go?

You had moved out of your old apartment, realising that the building itself was reminding you of him too much. You had enough money to find an apartment closer nearer to where you worked, making it easier for you to actually get there compared to the previous 45 minute train ride. This apartment was only ten minutes away by foot, making it easier for you to get around without much worry with time.

“Welcome back,” the elder woman greets you politely. “Luna is waiting for you in the playroom.”

“Thank you, Mrs Park,” you give her a warm smile as she lets you into the back room while handing you the dog harness. Upon your arrival, your black Dobermann happily greets you. The dog was large, but she was a total sweetheart. “Hey, sweetie,” you giggle as she tries to climb up your legs despite her large size. “Let’s go home, yeah?” You slip the harness onto Luna, clipping the leash onto the back before leaving the dog café.

It’s easier for you to leave her somewhere where you know she’s getting the attention she needs, but her presence makes you feel more secure. After the whole incident with you almost getting kidnapped, walking around on your own just didn’t feel as safe as it used to; especially at night. With Luna by your side, at least you felt protected. The Dobermann is also the perfect housemate. She happily runs around the apartment, livening up your home. You honestly miss the environment of Jaebeom’s apartment with his cats, deciding to finally get your own pet after a whole year of debating.

“Mummy needs to stop by the pet store for a moment, okay?” you glance down, seeing Luna look up at you and letting out a soft bark in response. You chuckle softly as you pull her into the store, walking around with her following attentively. While the dog café did offer a daycare for your companion, it didn’t sell the dog food you would usually get for Luna. When you step out, your eyes are glued to a packet of treats in your hand as you read through the recommended servings for a dog the size of yours. You look up at the feeling of eyes on you and your whole body freezes.

There he is.

Jaebeom stands in the park across the street, seemingly in disbelief that he’s seeing you as well. He’s frozen in his spot as he stares at you. The packet in your hand slips out of your grip, your lips parting in disbelief that you were actually seeing Jaebeom. Your hand lets go of Luna’s leash when you break into a sprint. You’re lucky the light was green, meaning you weren’t putting yourself in danger as you mindlessly ran towards him. Forgotten feelings fill your mind the closer you get to him, tears filling your eyes the nearer he gets. Even with the sun long gone and the moon taking its place in the sky, you know it’s him.

You’re full on sobbing by the time you throw yourself into him. Jaebeom stumbles backwards, falling onto the ground from the sudden impact. It takes a moment before he realises it’s actually you in his arms. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you tightly against him as you cry into his chest. His own wall breaks. All the feelings that he had locked away in an attempt to forget you filling his entire being as he holds you in the middle of the park. Jaebeom’s grip around you tightens when his eyes well with tears, his face burying itself into the crook of your neck. When he imagined being able to hold you, he never thought it would be after years of disappearing from your life.

“You asshole,” you choke out, your fists weakly hitting his chest. There’s anger in your heart from him leaving without even talking to you, your hands punching at his chest as you pull away. “You fucking asshole!” you sob out, your hands moving to cover your face. Jaebeom reaches out once more but you push him away. “You just left! Without even asking me what I was going to do!” You throw your hand against his chest once more. “I wanted to stay with you, you piece of shit!” When you swing your hand towards him again, he catches your wrist.

“I know,” he mutters as he catches your other hand, holding your wrists to stop your actions. “I know, (Y/n).” He pulls you into his chest once more. “I know. And I’m sorry,” Jaebeom holds you tightly as though he’s afraid of you disappearing. Your fists grip his hoodie tightly, as you continue to sob against him. “I’m sorry, (Y/n). I’m so fucking sorry.” His voice cracks towards the end of his sentence as he shuts his eyes. “I should’ve waited for you. I’m sorry.”

“Where have you been this entire time?” you sniffle against him.

“Here and there,” Jaebeom hums as he rocks you back and forth gently. “Trying to hide—trying to get by with having my cats stay at Jinyoung’s place while I constantly move around. I realised after a while that I really missed our talks on the balcony.”

“I miss those too.”

“I also realised that I miss seeing you in the hallway when I’m checking the mail. Or when we get home around the same time. I miss seeing you whenever I’d come home and see you asleep with Cake and Koonta curled up by your side whenever you’d pass out on the couch.” Jaebeom takes a deep breath as he pulls away from you to look into your eyes. “I’ve missed you.” Your bottom lip trembles as more tears start pouring from your eyes. “And I’m seriously so fucking sorry, (Y/n). I’m sorry for leaving out of nowhere. I’m sorry for putting you through all that trouble and then just disappearing. I’m… so sorry.” He pulls you back into him, his body gently rocking back and forth to try and help you calm down.

You stay in his arms for a bit longer, simply basking in his warmth. You had always wondered what Jaebeom’s hugs would feel like. Now that you’re actually feeling it, you love it. It’s comforting, calming. He holds you like you’re made out of glass, a gentle yet firm touch. You feel safe. Jaebeom’s embrace is comforting enough that you’re no longer crying—your previous sobs resolving down to sniffles.

“Hyung!” A familiar voice calls out, making you both pull away to see Yugyeom approaching the two of you from the streets. “I found this dog and—” he stops talking when he sees you, his eyes widening immensely. “Noona!” Yugyeom drops the leash in his hand and wraps his arms around you, lifting you into the air. You let out a surprised yelp at the action, but Yugyeom’s still tall enough that your feet dangle freely while he hugs you. “I thought I’d never see you again!” He places you onto the ground after a moment with the biggest smile on his face.

“Yeah, I thought so too,” you chuckle as your hands rest on his forearms. “I just saw Jaebeom across the street. I didn’t think I’d see him ever again either.” You turn to look at Jaebeom as he brushes his pants off.

“I honestly wasn’t expecting you to be here at all. I was just wandering around with Yugyeom because I felt stressed from work,” he smiles. You feel a nudge on your hand, your attention moving to Luna; whom you had honestly completely forgotten about.

“Oh my god! Luna!” you gasp when you remember that you have a dog.

“Is she your dog?” Yugyeom questions. “I saw her wandering around on her own. She had a leash so I assumed her owner must be around here somewhere.”

“You got a dog?” Jaebeom asks, his attention moving to the large dog that sniffs around the two men curiously.

“Yeah, after the whole… incident… I didn’t feel so safe walking around on my own.” You watch as Luna gets more and more excited the more she lingers around them. “I also missed having pets around. I think maybe those few months spent watching your cats really made my own apartment feel lonely.” The corners of Jaebeom’s mouth slowly lift into a smile. You feel your own heart easing up. “Are you guys busy? Maybe we could head back to my place and get a drink?” your suggestion makes Yugyeom nod, glancing over at Jaebeom before leaning towards your ear.

His hand covers the side of his face to stop Jaebeom from reading his lips, “Jaebeom hyung’s been really upset over leaving you.” He pulls away with a cheeky smile on his lips. “I should head back and make sure JB hyung’s cats are okay, so you two go ahead.” You can’t contain your smile as it grows when you turn to look at Jaebeom. You extend your hand towards him.

“Care for a drink on my balcony?” Jaebeom lets out a soft chuckle, the memories from years ago flooding his mind.

“Sure.”

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mydiazboys · 3 years

Text

slushie

[insp] 1 2 4

The teens entered the group home, laughing between themselves as they dropped their bags at the bottom of the stairs. The black eye shining bright on Eddie’s face, not that he appeared to be ashamed of it. In fact, except when Buck’s finger brushed against it out of curiosity, he didn’t appear to realise it was there.

“I’m just saying, I would love to be a snail - they can sleep for three years!” Buck exclaimed, laughing as they made their way through to the kitchen, where the rest of the family were hanging out just before dinner. “Hey, guys.”

“You already sleep all fucking day, Buckley, you don’t need anymore hours,” Eddie snorted, as he was grabbing them a bottle of coke each from the fridge. “You crashed right after dinner last night.”

“Okay, that’s totally not fair! We were up all night the night before,” Buck whined, accepting the bottle from him. It was lost on the pair the looks that they were receiving from their new-found family.

“Who’s fault is that?” Eddie pointed at him, his brows raised up his forehead. And Buck almost replied, but then he turned away. A smug look stretched across his face as he sat down at the table, beside Maddie.

“Hey, Mads,” he greeted, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

“Why is your mouth purple?” She asked, laughing as she wiped away his purple-coloured spit from her cheek.

“We stopped for slushies,” he explained, gesturing to Eddie who was joining them at the table with the plate of bread.

“They do a purple one now?” Chimney asked, his brow raised.

“Oh, no. I had red, Eddie had blue.”

There was a pause around the room, as they all appeared to muse over that thought. And then there was a look of realization across the other teens' faces. It was Bobby who took a second longer to catch up.

“I’m glad you two are starting to learn to share,” Bobby told them, as he was placing the serving bowls on the table.

“Oh, they weren’t sharing slushies, Cap,” Hen laughed, smirking as she looked at the curly-haired blond.

“Swapping spit sounds more accurate,” Chimney chimed in, chuckling with his head thrown back. Maddie was quick to smack the back of his arm and he was looking at her apologetically.

“Oh,” Bobby said softly as he sat down at the head of the table.

Dinner was mostly silent, other than the scraping of knives and forks against the plates. And the second they were finished, and Bobby was dismissing them except for the duo who had dish-washing duty for the night.

Buck was pulling on the pink-floral gloves as he filled the sink with soapy water, as Eddie gathered the dirty dishes. They were sharing shy looks, and hip-checks as they worked alongside each other.

“Don’t fucking- Buckley!” Eddie threw the tea towel on the counter, grabbing the back of Buck’s head with one hand. “You’re a child,” he muttered, before he was pressing their mouths together. And there was no hesitation from Buck, who was dropping the dish back into the bowl, his wet glove-covered hands gripping the front of Eddie’s shirt.

“Boys,” Bobby said, leaning against the doorframe with his brow raised, looking at the pair who were sheepishly looking back at him. “How long?”

Buck glanced back at Eddie, who was turned away. “About a month-”

“Almost two,” Eddie corrected, glancing over at Bobby. “We, uh-”

“Didn’t want everyone to know?”

“Well, there’s going to have to be some rules,” Bobby said, uncrossing his arms. “For starters, no bed sharing.”

“Aw, Bobby, c’mon,” Buck started to argue, but was quickly leaning back when Eddie tugged lightly at his curls. “I mean, that’s completely acceptable.”

“Eddie, go change your shirt. I’ll help Buck finish up the dishes.” And they both caught the smile that was on his face, as Buck was releasing the Texan.

When Buck was finished with the dishes, and the lecture he got from Bobby, he retreated to the bedroom where he found Chimney and Eddie both on their respective beds. He immediately crashed onto Eddie’s bed, laying his head on Eddie’s thighs with a sigh. The Texan didn’t take a break from his reading, fingers caressing through the loose curls on Buck’s head.

“Why didn’t you tell me making purple was a terrible idea?” He whined, getting himself comfy.

“I did,” Eddie said, his voice soft as he glanced down at the taller teen. “You were pretty confident that it would look sexy.”

“I wasn’t wrong,” Buck replied, glancing up at him. And then Eddie was covering his mouth with his hand, a playful roll of his eyes. He ran his tongue along the centre of Eddie’s palm, who instantly pulled his hand away in disgust, wiping the saliva on Buck’s shirt. “Purple mouths are almost as good as tattoos.”

Eddie dropped his gaze, looking down at the blond who was stretched out on his thighs. His brow raised, before a smirk was covering his lips as he may or may not have gotten the best idea.

#911 #911 fox #911 fic #eddie diaz #eddie diaz fic #evan buckley #evan buckley fic #buddie #buddie fic #we found love #shameless x 911 au #911 au #TECHNICALLY THIS COMES BEFORE NEW INK BUT EH #also sorry that this post took forever to come out #ive been so busy with work #and im also sick #so maybe expect a sick fic soon #i love this series ngl

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bumblesimagines · 4 years

Text

Imagine:

Taking care of Sarah, your sick girlfriend

Request: Yes or No

Me? Starting to do daily stuff again? It's more likely than you think

You carefully held the bowl of soup, entering Sarah's room as she sneezed.

"I told you not to go off running in the rain with JJ and John B." You said, sitting beside her and grabbing a pillow. You glanced at the trash can filled with rolled up tissues, eyes flickering to the tissues by the trash can.

"You have shit aim." You mumbled, gently placing the bowl on the pillow, holding the side. Sarah rolled her eyes.

"I'm dying and you still insult me?" Sarah cocked a brow, sniffling. You shrugged.

"Tough love, babe." You replied, taking in her appearance. Her eyes were watery, her nose a soft red, her hair messy from lack of attention.

"How's JB and JJ?" She asked, voice rough.

"JJ has the immune system of an alligator so he's fine. Pope is keeping an eye on him, just in case. Kie's taking care of John B." You told her, swirling the spoon around before lifting it up and gently blowing on it. Sarah hummed, leaning forward and opening her mouth. You gently fed her until there wasn't any more soup.

"Let me get you some water." You stood, heading downstairs and putting the bowl in the sink.

"Hey, (Y/N)." Wheezie greeted. You glanced at her, giving her a smile. "Hey, Whez."

"How's Sarah?" She asked.

"She's.. Hanging in there." You chuckled. "It's just a cold but she's acting like she has the black plague."

"That's Sarah for you." Wheezie shook her head. You grabbed a water bottle, pouring it in a cup and heading upstairs. You sat, opening the cap for the medicine. Sarah pouted, scrunching up her nose.

"Do I have to take that? It taste like shit." Sarah huffed.

"Do you want to feel better?"

"Hmph."

"Come on, Rapunzel." You watched her take her medicine and drank the water after.

"There you go, princess." You smiled, standing. You made sure she had tissues before tucking her in. Sarah passed out almost immediately.

"Night, babe."

Gifs aren't mine

#x reader #x you #x y/n #x male reader #x male!reader #outer banks #outer banks x reader #outer banks x male reader #outer banks x you #outer banks x y/n #sarah cameron #sarah cameron x reader #sarah cameron x male reader #sarah cameron x you #sarah cameron x gender netural reader #sarah cameron x fem reader #x fem reader #x gender netural reader #wheezie cameron

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lonelysoul029 · 4 years

Text

His Hufflepuff Secret ~ Two

<-Previous Chapter

_____

Year III

Y/N sits in the library with Ron, Fred and George, trying her damnedest not to laugh out loud. The twins, ever ingenious, created a potion that makes a person hiccup when they hear someone call their name. They slipped the liquid in Ron's drink earlier, and the older Weasleys haven't stopped saying his name since.

"Oh come on, Ron," She giggles when he hiccups for the umpteenth time that day, "It can't possibly be that bad."

"Easy for you to say," Ron glares at her, "You're not the one hiccuping every five seconds thanks to these two gits," he points at his older brothers who have managed to create a song that involves saying Ron's name as much as possible.

"Ron, oh Ron," Fred starts, "My dearest brother Ron,"

"Our Ron, sweet Ron," George continues.

"We're only doing it because we love you, Ron," they now say at the same time.

"Alright boys," Y/N stops laughing, "I'm sure your poor brother has had enough of your crap for today."

"Which brother?" The twins speak again at the same time. It's quite creepy actually.

She rolls her eyes at them as they give her the double Weasley smirk, daring her to say their brother's name again. She won't give them the satisfaction just yet. Y/N needs to make sure that they undo the potion's effects. "Either stop it right now, or I'll tell his girlfriend that you've pranked him once again."

"Hey! Hermione is not my girlfriend," Ron interjects.

"I never said it was Hermione, Ron" Y/N smirks, she faces the twins again, "So what'll it be, boys? Undo the effects or face the wrath of Hermione Granger?"

Fred and George look at each other, as if they wordlessly conversing. They probably are with their weird twin telekinesis. After a moment, they seem to finally come up with a verdict. "Fine, we'll fix Ron. Would you like that Ron?" George says.

"Obviously."

Fred turns to Ron, "Ready, Ron-Ron?" he asks, making his younger brother hiccup two last times. Ron sighs but nods. Fred looks back at his twin with his hand out and George hands him a small bottle containing the antidote. Immediately, Ron snatches the bottle from his brother to unscrew the cap. He downs the clear liquid in one go.

"Did it work?" Ron asks, wanting all of this to be over.

The twins don't say anything, so Y/N speaks up, "Ron?"

To the younger Weasley's relief, he doesn't hiccup at the mention of his name. "Oh thank Godric." Ron turns to his brothers who look disappointed that their fun is over, "You two better watch your backs, because I will get my revenge on you," he threatens, then gets up from his chair and gathers his books, "Right, well I best be off. Hermione's waiting for me in the common room."

"Oooooh," Y/N, Fred and George all tease Ron at the mention of his 'not' girlfriend. He gives one last glare down at the three before walking out the library.

A few minutes pass after Ron left when the twins also get up to leave. Saying something about finding their next guinea pig for a different potion this time. Y/N waves them goodbye then turns back to writing her essay.

"God, I thought those blood traitors would never leave," she hears a familiar voice say from behind her. Y/N just hums in response, her focus still on her parchment. "You spend almost all afternoon with those gingers and I can't even get a 'hello'?"

Y/N finally looks up from her work to see that Draco is now occupying the chair Ron was sitting on across from her. She puts her quill down and rests her chin on her hand, "Only people who don't insult my friends get a 'hello.'"

Draco kicks his feet up on the table with a smirk on his face, "I insulted Potter yesterday at breakfast and you still said hello to me in the halls," he says, knowing that she won't have a comeback for that. She does, though.

"You referred to him as 'the chosen one', that wasn't an insult," she snaps back.

"But I said it in an insulting tone," Draco argues. He knows he's not going to win because his argument is ridiculous, but he also knows that his nagging is annoying her because her fingers are now drumming on the wooden table, and Draco just loves getting on her case.

"I know you're trying to annoy me, Malfoy," she calmly states as she picks up her quill and writes on her parchment again. Draco's smirk drops. Y/N looks up to see his grey eyes widen in shock staring at her.

How did she know? Draco likes to think that he has perfected the art of keeping an unreadable expression on his face, but Y/N seems to see through him. He opens his mouth to say something when she speaks again.

"You're an open book, Draco Malfoy," she answers his unasked question, "And I know exactly how to read you. It's almost like I can hear your thoughts."

Draco scoffs, a bit too loudly, "Hear my thoughts, my arse."

Before she can say anything, the librarian walks up from behind Draco and smacks him on the head with a newspaper, making him rub the back of his head. "Feet off the table, young man," Y/N bites her lip to stop herself from snorting at her best friend's current situation. "And watch your language."

The boy sighs but listens to the older woman, and after seeing both of his feet hit the floor, she walks away. Y/N can't help but giggle when the librarian is out of earshot. "Oh shut up, Fawley," Draco glares at her, making her giggle even more.

"Come on, that was hilarious!"

"Ha ha, I'm glad you find my misery entertaining," Draco replies dryly.

"Yes, I really do," Y/N's hysteria soon fades away and she starts to pick up her belongings. "I'm going to go put my books back to my dorm, then I'm off to the Great Hall for dinner."

Draco stands up too, "I'll go with you."

"Alright."

They walk down the halls with a few paces between them so as to not make it obvious that they're walking together. As they reach the kitchen area, Y/N looks around to make sure no one can see her smuggling a Slytherin into the Hufflepuff common room. When the coast is clear, she whispers the password and they enter the room. No one is there, thankfully, so they head straight towards Y/N's dorm. She only has one other roommate, Hannah, who is currently residing in the hospital wing because of a quidditch accident. So Y/N's got the room all to herself for two weeks. Draco sits on the edge of her bed as she places her books on the shelf.

"Do you want to sleep over after dinner?" Y/N asks while brushing her hair into a ponytail so that it's not in her face when she eats.

"Sure. It's Saturday tomorrow so we can just hang out in your room all day, too," Draco leans on his hands behind him, watching her untangle a part of her hair

Y/N nods, "I've got your extra toothbrush and one of your shirts for you in the drawer so you don't have to go to your dorm before we go back to mine," she provides, "Unless you have something else you need from there."

"Nothing I can think of right now. If I remember something later, I can always just accio it here," Draco moves to rest his back on the headboard.

"Draco you are incredibly lazy," she laughs.

He winks at her, "I know, sweetheart."

~~~~•~~~~

Y/N wakes up to the sound of someone breathing next to her ear. She feels an arm over her waist, keeping her from getting up. That wasn't there last night. She inhaled deeply, his scent filling her senses. It's calming really, to have that expensive cologne and green apple smell surround her. She's confused though as to why Draco is on her bed, cuddling her from behind, when she distinctly remembers him falling asleep on another bed across the room last night. She glances at the clock on her nightstand, 10:28. She realises that they have slept through breakfast. Her stomach rumbles at the thought of food so she carefully lifts Draco's arm off of her.

"No, stay," Draco whines, his voice thick with sleep as he pulls his arm tighter around Y/N's waist.

"But Draco, I'm hungry," she whines back, "We've already missed breakfast so I want to go see if there's anything easy to make in the kitchen."

"You're warm, though," he says, "It's relaxing." Oh Merlin. Did I really just say those words to her? He curses himself, deciding that his half-asleep state is to blame for the slip up.

Y/N giggles, still trying to lift his arm off of her, "How about this," she pulls at his arm again, no avail, "I'll go get us some food, then we can cuddle after we eat. Sound good?"

After a moment's hesitation, Draco sighs, "Fine," he loosens his grip on her, "Hurry, though."

She's in the bathroom, brushing her teeth and combing through her hair to make herself look a bit more presentable if someone saw her. When she goes out, she finds a now-sleeping Draco on her bed. He's snoring just a bit and Y/N finds it cute that he's curled up on her bed like that. She shakes the thought away when her stomach grumbles again. She puts on her slippers and heads to the kitchen. As she's passing through the common room, she sees two people there. Cedric Diggory seems to be talking very closely with another student in a Ravenclaw sweater. Y/N rounds the couch to get to the door when she glances at the pair again to find that they aren't talking at all; they're kissing. Her eyes widen at the sight then increases her pace, wanting to get out the door as soon as possible. When she reaches the kitchen, she looks through the cabinets and finds a box of cereal. She opens the fridge to get milk then cuts up strawberries to add to the bowl. Once she's got two bowls filled, she walks back into the Hufflepuff common room. Please don't be there, please don't be there. The entrance opens up and to Y/N's relief, the pair occupying the sofa is now gone. She sighs and continues to walk to the girls' dorms.

She thinks about the two locking lips in the common room, wondering what it's like to have someone kiss her like that. She pictures it would be soft but firm, slow and gentle. The person would be holding her chin between their thumb while their other hand is on the back of her neck. She imagines that his lips taste like mint, their nose would be bumping each other. Her hand would go up to tangle her fingers in his platinum blonde hair— Wait a second. Why am I imagining Draco?

Y/N shakes her head to clear those thoughts off her mind. She reaches her dorm and carefully opens it, so as not to wake up the boy she was imagines having her first kiss with. Will you stop imagining it Y/N? To her surprise, he's already awake. Draco is sitting up on her bed, reading through her potions textbook. He looks up at her, "What took you so long?"

Oh nothing. I just unconsciously stopped in the middle of the corridor thinking about us kissing. She clears her throat, "On the contrary, I was trying to move as fast as I can to get away from Cedric making out with that Ravenclaw girl in the common room."

Draco crinkles his nose in disgust, "I know who you're talking about. It's the girl in the glasses, Cho Chang," he gets up to take one of the bowls from Y/N who is just standing awkwardly by Hannah's bed. "I heard she's got a thing for Potter too. The girl's got bad taste in men," he smirks at his own remark.

Y/N rolls her eyes, "Oh yeah? I think Cho has fantastic taste in men," she sits on her bed, cross-legged, while nursing her bowl of cereal. "I mean Cedric is an incredibly sweet person, and Harry is very kind," she defends, smirking, "And they're both not bad on the eyes either."

The Slytherin makes a fake gagging sound before turning to his best friend, sitting cross-legged on the bed as well, "If they're so great, why aren't you with them?" He questions, "Why are you hanging out with me instead?"

Y/N's mind goes blank as she stares at the strawberries floating in her bowl. Why is she here with Draco instead of being out with other guys? Guys who she can be seen in public with, not hiding and sneaking into rooms with. She thinks back to Cedric and Cho kissing on the couch. Why can't she be with someone who she can kiss in front of other people? Then her thoughts go to the image she planted in her head of her kissing Draco. She can't kiss him, let alone be seen with him. They have secret meetings in places people don't go very often because they would be judged for being friends with a rival house.

"Hello?" Draco waves a hand in front of her face, "Earth to Y/N!"

She blinks her thoughts away, "What?" Y/N looks up at Draco. His bowl already empty on the nightstand while she absentmindedly pushed around the contents of hers around.

"You didn't answer my question," he states, "You just zoned out."

"Oh yeah, uhm," she swallows, forcing a confident smile on her face, "I'm with you because you're my best friend, stupid." Y/N laughs, hoping it's enough to move away from the fact that she was lost in thought.

"Wrong."

She raises an eyebrow at him, "What do you mean 'wrong?'"

"You're wrong," he repeats, "You're hanging out with me instead of them because I am obviously much better company than Potter and Diggory," he gets up from the bed and grabs his robes. Putting them on, he walks to the mirror to smooth out any wrinkles, "And much better looking, too," Draco winks at her through the mirror.

"I would have to disagree," Y/N moves to stand behind him, a hand on his shoulder while maintaining eye contact through their reflection. She whispers in his ear, "Have you seen Harry in those glasses? He looks extremely attractive," it's her turn to wink at him. She kisses him on the cheek right after then turns to finish her cereal, completely missing the way Draco's flustered expression.

This girl is going to be the death of me, that's for sure.

~~~~•~~~~

The rest of their Saturday consists of sitting on the alcove by Y/N's bedroom window. Draco has his back against the wall while Y/N leans on his chest, reading her favourite muggle book. His arms are around her waist as they talk, well, Draco doing the talking, mostly just to piss her off and distract her. Her head fit perfectly in the space between his shoulder and neck and he can smell her shampoo. It's got a fresh cucumber scent to it. It's this easy, he thinks. To be sitting with her, not a care in the world about being in different houses. If only we could be like this in front of everyone.

The sun is down before they know it. Y/N fell asleep some time in the afternoon, her grip on the book loosened. Luckily, Draco was reading along when the book fell from her grasp so he knows the page she was at. He picked it up and fit her bookmark on the page. Draco placed the book down on the dresser next to them, then placed a kiss on the top of her head. Soon, sleep was pulling at him and he closed his eyes, sighing in contentment with his best friend in his arms.

~~~~•~~~~

Draco is running through the dark forest. He has been running for what seems like hours, trying to get away from the faceless man in the dark cloak. He looks behind him to see that she isn't following him anymore. He desperately calls out her name, but he gets no answer. He decides that maybe she is a fast runner and got ahead of him and he just didn't notice. Yes, he thinks, she's faster than me.

He turns to the direction he was running before, but freezes at the sight in front on him. The faceless man is floating two feet in front of him. Black smoke under his tall figure. The ends of his robes are tattered and he laughs the kind of laugh that sends chills down one's spine. The man is terrifying, yes, but that isn't the reason why Draco feels like his heart has been ripped out of his chest.

Y/N is being held by the collar of her blood-stained shirt. The faceless man laughs again. "You could've saved her Draco. She's dead, and it's all because of you."

"N-no, no. It c-can't be," Draco stutters, "She was right behind me! I p-protected her from th-the attacks and-"

"But you couldn't protect her from me," slowly, features started to appear on the man's face, "No one is safe from me, Draco. Not this pathetic little girl," the man drops Y/N's lifeless body on the ground. Draco tries to move towards her, but vines that seem to come out from nowhere, tangle around his feet and legs to keep him from escaping. "Not your parents," the man now has all of his facial features, he doesn't look human. At least not completely, "And not you," he comes at Draco with a wicked grin and his wand raised. "But don't worry, boy, I've got plans for you," he waves his wand at the boy then all Draco can see is a bright green light.

He is lying on his back, at least he thinks he is. He feels numb, is all he knows. What is he talking about? Draco wonders as the light gradually fades into black. What does this have to do with my parents? Why did he kill Y/N? Why couldn't I save her? Why, why, why...

Draco wakes, breathing heavy and a thin sheen of sweat on his body. Another nightmare? Really? He has been having a lot of those lately. Just the night before, he had one, so he moved to sleep next to Y/N because being in close proximity to her calms him down.He rubs at his eyes and looks at his surroundings. He realises that Y/N is gone. Draco starts to panic, What if it wasn't a nightmare at all? He sits up on the alcove, and before he can dive further into a dark spiral, he hears the shower running and Y/N's voice humming a tune. He sighs in relief. Draco looks at the time. 9:26. He still has seven hours before he needs to go to quidditch practice. He decides to get ready for the day so he writes a note for Y/N on the steamed-up bathroom mirror, saying he's going to his dorm. He signs the note 'D' and leaves a smiley face next to it.

When he gets inside his room, the first thing he notices is that it's colder than it usually is. Draco's eyes flick up to his window. He can see a dark figure floating in the water, similar to the man in his nightmare. His heartbeat picks up and his breathing quickens. He reaches for his wand, ready to protect himself from what ever creature is on the other side of the glass. When it floats closer to his window, Draco realises that it's just a grey squid. It's tentacles flowing with the water like a cloak. He sighs deeply, What am I doing? It was just a nightmare, nothing more. Right?

Right.

_____

Next Chapter->

#draco malfoy #draco x reader #draco lucius malfoy #hogwarts #hufflepuff!reader #jkrowling #jkr #harry potter #slytherin #hufflepuff #ravenclaw #gryffindor #fan fiction #writing #series #fiction #his hufflepuff secret #chapter two #izzy writes

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fluffy-lee · 4 years

Text

Lake Day

Part 3 of the series “Vacation.”

This is a TICKLE fic. If you’re not into that, you don’t have to read.

PLATONIC Avengers x reader

Warnings: Some drama.

Summary: It’s the first full day of vacation and the Avengers go to the lake. Y/n enjoys playful antics with those closest to her, but what happens when someone takes it a little too far? Lots of funny and fluffy things happen in this fic, but not everything is always perfect.

It was the first night of vacation. Tony had just put you to bed and was walking down the hall, when he heard laughter coming from Peter and Thor’s room. He knocked on the door.

“Enter!” Thor called.

Tony opened the door to see Thor sitting on his bed criss-cross, eating a giant bowl of chocolate ice cream and Peter was hanging upside down from the ceiling, holding a spoon… another bowl of ice cream hanging next to him by a single thread of web. Step Brothers was blasting on the TV.

“What is this? A fraternity?” Tony asked, with his usual sarcasm.

“Yes!” Thor exclaimed.

“Hey Mr. Stark! You want to watch this movie with us?” Peter asked, taking a scoop out of the swinging bowl of ice cream.

“I was actually about to head to bed, you know, because… IT’S MIDNIGHT.” Tony exclaimed.

“Oh okay!” Peter said with his mouth full, going for another scoop.

“Parker, if that ice cream ends up on this carpet, I’m gonna shove your face in it.”

Thor boomed in laughter at the TV.

“It won’t Tony I promise!” Peter said with a smile. Just then, the bowl nearly tipped, but Peter snatched it in his hands. “S-See, it’s fine!”

Tony rolled his eyes. “Try to go to sleep soon. We’ve got a big day tomorrow.” He began to walk out of the room.

“WAIT!” Peter shouted.

Tony jumped and turned around. “Geez. What is it kid?”

"You're going to leave without giving me a hug goodnight?"

Tony sighed, pretending it didn’t warm his heart. “Oh alright. But you gotta come down from there.”

Peter flipped down and gave Tony a big hug, making Tony smile.

They said their good nights and Tony went to bed.

You jolted awake in a cold sweat, breathing harshly. You were trembling. Moonlight shone through the window. Nat was fast asleep. The clock read 3:11 A.M. You didn’t want to wake Nat, even though deep down you knew she’d be okay with it. You also just wanted to get out of the room. You slipped out of bed and walked down the dark hall, hoping to run into someone, but who would be awake at this time of night? You went to Peter and Thor’s door. An obnoxious chorus of snores erupted from the room. You snickered to yourself. Even when Peter was asleep he could cheer you up. Still, he was asleep, along with Thor and you were scared to wake them. You continued down the hall. You could go to your dad, but he was sharing a room with Steve and Sam. You’d risk waking up two more people. You were too scared to wake anybody. Your heart started to pound and you felt so alone and the nightmare kept playing over and over in your head. You slid down the wall and started to cry. Nightmares weren’t uncommon for you. HYDRA had a lot to do with it.

Suddenly you heard a voice.

“Y/n?” Sam asked, kneeling in front of you.

You launched into his arms, hugging his neck as he gently rubbed your back.

“Sweetheart, why are you crying?” He asked, wiping your tears.

You relaxed and steadied your breathing. “N-nightmare.”

“I see. It’s okay now. You’re okay.” He said, comforting you.

You immediately felt safe with Sam. You and him were close. He was the one who spotted you in the snow and assisted in saving you. You trusted him with your life. He was a great friend, mentor, and protector. Plus, he never failed to make you laugh.

“Did I wake you?” You asked worriedly.

“No, I went down to fill this water bottle.” He answered, showing you the blue water bottle. “Here, have a drink.” He urged.

You drank some water and felt better.

“Come here.” Sam said, pulling you into another hug.

You smiled and cuddled him for a minute. Then, he walked with you back to your room.

“Do you think you’ll be able to go back to sleep?” Sam asked.

“I do. Thank you. You really made me feel better.” You said, before yawning.

“Alright, good. Listen to me, Y/n. I know what it’s like to struggle with nightmares… If you have anymore, you can come to me. I wouldn’t mind at all. Even if I’m asleep, you can wake me up.” Sam assured you.

You nodded.

“Promise me.” He smirked, giving your side a few pokes.

You giggled quietly. “I promise, Sammy.”

He opened your door for you and kissed your forehead.

“See you in the morning, Y/n.” And with that he went to his room.

You smiled to yourself, your heart warm, and crawled back into bed. Nat was still sound asleep, just like you wanted her to be. You fell back asleep, this time having good dreams.

The next morning came around and Natasha sat on your bed and gently shook you awake.

“Y/n! Wake up!” She said sweetly.

You opened your eyes and stretched, feeling pretty well rested. You got ready for the day, and headed downstairs. You could smell breakfast being made and you could hear laughter.

When you entered the kitchen, you saw Pepper, Tony, Nat, Wanda, Vis, and Steve. Everyone else was still sleeping.

“Morning sunshine!” Tony said cheerfully as he poured a cup of coffee.

Everyone looked over at you and smiled.

“Good morning.” You replied with a sheepish grin. When you saw Steve, the events of last night replayed in your head and you blushed. Steve tickled the heck out of you and you were too flustered to even look at him. You went and hugged Tony, hiding your face in his chest. He asked you if you slept well and you just nodded, not talking much. You weren’t particularly loud in the morning.

“Where’s my good morning hug, Y/n?” Steve asked, a teasing tone ringing in his voice.

You peaked at him and blushed, causing him to chuckle. “What did I do?” He asked innocently, though he knew.

Tony leaned on the counter, sipping his coffee, with you glued to him, hiding your face. “I think you broke her, Cap! She’s all shy again.”

Steve sighed. “Guess I have to fix it.” You could hear it in his voice. He was going to do something.

You heard the sound of the chair he was sitting in scoot and the footsteps approaching you. You gripped tighter onto Tony. You couldn’t help the nervous giggles escaping your lips.You squeaked when you felt the sudden grip on your sides as you were snatched up by Steve. You could only think to cover your face with your hands, still too flustered to look at him. Steve cackled.

“Stahahp thahat!” He said, prying your hands from your face. He watched the blush tint your cheeks. “What? Are you all shy cause I tickled you?”

“Nohoho!” You lied.

“Oh you are a bad liar.” He growled, flipping you and hanging you upside down, while you continued to giggle uncontrollably. He flung you on the couch and you threw a small pillow at him, which he caught as he approached you, mischief apparent on his face. He pounced, tackling you into the cushions.

“Steve!” You squealed. You couldn’t stop smiling. You loved when Steve was playful like this.

“Y/n/n!” He mocked, pinning your arms up. He began to dig into your tummy and your belly laugh echoed throughout the room.

“Nope. I was wrong. Your tummy is definitely your most ticklish spot. Don’t you agree, Y/n?” Steve teased, raising an eyebrow at you.

You nodded at him bashfully as he gently tickled your belly button through your shirt.

Steve cooed at your response and scooped you in his arms. You were still laughing from the phantom tickles on your tummy.

“Are you okay?” Steve asked sweetly.

“Yeahaha.”

“Good!” Steve exclaimed before blowing tons of raspberries on your tummy while you squealed with laughter.

“Aww nice! I didn’t know we were having raspberries for breakfast!” said a familiar voice.

“Yeah! Here, have some, Buck!” Steve said, passing you to your dad.

“Oh nooohohoho!” You groaned, pretending to be annoyed.

Bucky held you in his arms and went straight to giving you raspberries, and you fell back into laughter.

“Whose raspberries tickle more? Mine, or Steve’s?” Bucky asked you.

You looked at him and Steve. Great. Now this is going to be some kind of competition between them, and if you say one, the other will punish you.

“Um.. well.. Both the same!” You decided.

Steve and Bucky both raised their eyebrows at you.

“Oh let her come eat her breakfast and quit torturing her!” Wanda said with a smirk.

You slipped out of Bucky’s arms, grateful to be rescued by Wanda.

After breakfast, you, Nat, Steve, and Thor were sitting on the back deck, talking and enjoying the gorgeous view of the mountains. You were sitting as Natasha stood behind you, braiding your hair for the day. You could never do french, dutch, or any of those fancy braids. Just regular ones. Natasha could, and you always felt so pretty when she did your hair.

Today, the first full day of vacation, was going to be a lake day. You all were going to take the boat out, swim, water ski, and more. Everyone was so excited.

“We need sunscreen, groceries, and other stuff, so I’m going to drive down to town. Anyone want to come with?” Tony announced, stepping out onto the porch.

“I’ll go.” Steve said.

“Me too!” You said, as Nat finished your hair.

You followed Steve and Tony out to the car. Tony drove, Steve sat in the passenger's seat, and you were in the back. You loved when you got to spend time with just the two of them. It was a rare occurrence these days with the hectic lives they lived. You looked at the windows, enjoying the beautiful view of the mountain you were driving down. The drive wasn’t a short one. You didn’t realise how long it was until you noticed how badly you had to pee. You held it for a while until it started to become unbearable.

“TONY I HAVE TO PEE LIKE SO BAD!” You cried.

“Uh-oh.” Steve said.

“How long do I have?” Tony asked, speeding up a bit.

“I don’t know!” You answered.

“Next place I can stop, I will… but I think that’s going to be the store.” Tony concluded.

“HOW LONG?” You asked desperately. You had a weak bladder.

“Five minutes.”

“I CAN’T!”

“You can hold it, Y/n!” Steve said with a chuckle. “You better not pee your pants!”

“I MIGHT!”

“Do I have to call my suit? Are you going to have to pee in my suit?” Tony asked, panic in his voice.

“MAYBE.”

“It has a filtration system. You can drink that water!” Tony said.

“I’D RATHER GO TO A BATHROOM.” You whined, holding it in as hard as you could.

“We’re almost there. You can do it!” Steve encouraged you.

You really thought you weren’t going to make it and were going to have to pee in Tony’s suit. He even called it and it climbed in the window and sat next to you in the car.

“I DON’T WANNA PEE IN THAT THING.”

“Well you’re NOT going to pee on my leather seats!” Tony declared.

The Iron Man suit looked at you and shrugged.

Luckily, you held it all the way to the store, and sprinted to the bathroom.

“Well, that was close.” Steve said, when you came out.

“Yep.”

You and Steve caught up to Tony. It was a nice grocery store. You didn’t take the time to notice how cute the town was because, well, you were distracted.

“Pick out what cereal you and Peter want.” Tony told you, while the three of you entered the aisle.

You took an obnoxiously long time, trying to decide what cereal both you and Peter would like, while Tony and Steve stood around sighing.

“Tick-tock, granny.” Tony urged.

You finally settled on “Cap’n Ameri-Crunch.”

“Oh.. I see how it is.” Tony grumbled.

“Iron Bran isn’t that good though.” You admitted.

Tony clenched his jaw and formed a “claw” with his hand, slowly approaching you.

“Sorry sorry sorry!” You rambled, putting your hands up in defense.

Tony chuckled and you all continued on shopping.

The shopping lasted quite a while to stock up the cabin for the week. Steve was now giving you a piggyback ride effortlessly through the store while Tony checked off the list filled with everyone’s requests. You got quite a few stares from people. Steve and Tony took a few selfies with people.

The three of you returned to the cabin around 10:30 A.M. Everyone then got ready to go to the lake. You waited on the back deck, talking with Thor about his latest adventures when you heard a loud scream from inside, startling you both. It sounded like bloody murder. Both you and Thor leapt to your feet. Thor pushed you behind him and stuck his arm out. VVVWWRAAAUUUMM! Thor wielded Mjolnir in his right hand. It took you a second to realize the scream belonged to Peter. You were scared. You knew this vacation was too good to be true. Some kind of trouble would follow you all here and it would be ruined.

“YOU BURN!” Tony yelled from inside the house. You’d never heard him yell like that. You gripped Thor’s shirt tighter.

“Th-Thor..” You whispered, shaking.

“Shh baby, I’ve got this.” assured Thor as he made his way toward the door.

Suddenly, a sprinting Peter pushed past him. “NOOOOOO!”

Tony followed after him… with a can of sunscreen. You felt as if you just caught your breath. Thor snatched Peter up by the back of his shirt.

“What is this madness?” Thor asked angrily.

“HE’S TRYING TO PUT SUNSCREEN ON ME!” Peter screeched.

“YOU BURN TOO EASILY. I hate to break it to ya Pete, but you’re not stronger than the sun!” Tony shouted, pointing directly at the sun.

You clutched your chest from the fear you had previously endured, but couldn’t help but start giggling.

“You too, giggles!” Tony said, pointing at you.

Peter grumpily gave in to being sprayed down with sunscreen by Tony.

“It’s cohohohld!” Peter whined.

“Stop being such a baby.” Tony scolded, spraying Peter’s back.

“That tickles!” Peter squeaked.

“Oh give me a break.” Tony scoffed with a smile as he held Peter’s face, applying stick sunscreen to his ears.

“How are your ears ticklish?” You asked with a giggle.

“Oh? I bet yours are too!” Peter said, as he began reaching for you, but was held back by Tony.

“Stay still! I’m not done!” Tony ordered.

You backed away with a smile, waiting your turn for the sunscreen.

“Finished!” Tony announced.

Peter rushed toward you, grabbing your wrists with one hand, and began fluttering his fingers on your left ear with the other. You immediately began giggling and your knees buckled.

“It tickles, doesn’t it?” Peter teased, now tickling your other ear, occasionally spidering around your neck.

“YEHEEHES! I’m sohohorry!” You laughed.

Peter let up, smiling at you. Tony pulled you over and began coating you in sunscreen.

“You’re such a dad. You know that, Tony?” You asked him.

Tony scoffed. “Me? Please!”

You rolled your eyes. Tony squished your cheeks with one hand while he applied the sunscreen to your ears. You giggled a little like Peter.

“Aww do you have ticklish ears like Peter?” Tony cooed in a babyish tone.

“...Maybe!” You replied bashfully.

He then applied it to your face and you were surely burn resistant. You thought it was sweet how much Tony cared. He knew that you hated sunburns.

You all finally made it out to the lake on the boat and were having a blast. You and Bucky were currently on the tube together, ready to be thrown off by Sam. He had just sent Peter and Steve flying. You looked at your dad with a nervous smile. He smiled back at you, humor gracing his lips. The boat started to pull you both and it sped faster and faster. You gripped the handles as tight as you could. Both you and Bucky screamed like on a roller coaster and couldn’t stop laughing. It was so much fun. Later, everyone moved onto paddle boarding. You were currently standing on yours across from Peter’s. You were good at paddle boarding. You enjoyed it and had good core strength from your training. Peter took his paddle and playfully nudged you with it. You only stumbled back a little and gave him a shocked look. He raised his eyebrows above his sunglasses with a smile.

“Are you CHALLENGING me?” You asked, mimicking the famous scene from Scooby-Doo that you and Peter constantly reference. He laughed and nudged you again. You nearly fell this time, and were in a ready stance, prepared to block him and push him off his board. You pushed him with your paddle and he nearly fell, but caught himself. You and Peter began battling. He pushed you off and you got right back on your board, laughing. You tried and tried again but were no match for him, but you were still having fun. The last time he knocked you into the water, you kicked his board and caused him to fall into the water with you. You began splashing each other, and had been throwing playful insults.

“You can never beat me, TINY!” Peter spat, playfully.

“I just knocked you off the board, STICKY!” You spat back.

“Being sticky made me a superhero, and you’re not one!” Peter bragged.

“You might be a superhero, but you’re not an Avenger!” You shouted back.

All of this was in good fun, but that last remark struck the wrong nerve in Peter, and he went a bit pale, but he still tried to get back at you.

“Well, at least I’m not weak… and excessively clingy.” Peter fumed quietly, raising an eyebrow.

“HEY! That’s enough, you two!” Steve snapped, having heard your conversation as he was nearby on a board.

You floated quietly in the water, looking down. You faked a small laugh, not wanting Peter to know he hurt your feelings. What he said was a secret insecurity of yours. One that Steve had been trying to work on with you. You were clingy to the Avengers. They were your family. You never wanted to annoy them, but you were now afraid that you did, but they were too nice to tell you. Peter had gotten on his board, and you started to get back on yours when Tony called everyone back to the boat to go eat.

You were quiet and now tried not to sit too close to anyone. You sat distantly between Nat and Bucky. Tony drove the boat up to this restaurant. It was a really nice place, and normally you’d be really excited, but you were just sad.

You all filled up two tables outside on the patio next to the shimmering water. A friendly waitress took your orders. You ordered your meal, and that was about all you had said since you’d gotten off the boat. You were sat next to Bucky and Nat again, and across from Steve. Steve was sitting next to Tony who was on his left. Peter was on the left of Tony. You wouldn’t look over at Peter. Peter seemed to be fine. You could hear him talking and laughing. You kept replaying his words in your head, and what hurt the most is the fact that they were his words. You always believed him and looked up to him.

“Tired?” Bucky asked you, giving your back a little tickle. It made you flinch a little, but you didn’t smile.

“Yeah, I am.” You answered quietly.

When you didn’t smile, Bucky knew something was wrong. Steve saw it too. Steve had been observing your quiet behavior.

“Hey Y/n.” Steve said with a small smile. “I ordered watermelon lemonade. You wanna try it?” He asked, trying to make conversation with you and get your mind off what had you upset.

You thought about it for a second, and nodded, accepting his offer.

He passed you the lemonade and you sipped from the straw. It was delicious, but it wasn’t enough to cheer you up. You forced a smile at Steve.

“It’s really good.” You said.

Steve gave you a loving smile. He then noticed your mood go back to where it was. You stared down at your napkin and quietly played with it. Steve gave Bucky a look. Bucky frowned back at him. You peered up to see Steve lean in to Tony and was talking pretty seriously, while Tony listened, nodding. The flood gates opened, and you couldn’t hold it in anymore. Tears started to drip down your face and you tried to wipe them away so no one would see, but the swelling in your chest got stronger. You glanced up at Tony but quickly looked away when you made eye contact with him. You got up from your seat and went inside to the restroom.

…

“They were playing around in the lake and I heard Peter say something. I think he took it too far.” Steve whispered to Tony.

“She’s been upset for a while?” Tony whispered back, glancing up at Y/n, who he noticed was wiping tears from her face.

“Yeah. He said something about her “clinginess” and as you know, she-” Steve began, but Tony cut him off.

“Mhm. Yeah. That’ll do it for her.” Tony said. He quickly understood that that definitely hurt her feelings.

Tony saw Y/n’s red eyes meet his, and watched her get up and leave. He turned his attention to Peter who was being goofy and playing around with the rest of the table.

“Hey Pete-” Tony began, but Peter was too distracted. “Kid. KID.” He was still laughing with everyone. “PETER.” Tony boomed, finally catching the wide-eyed boy’s attention.

“Sorry sir. Yes?” Peter asked.

“Having a good time?” Tony asked bluntly.

“Of course.�� Peter answered, a bit confused.

“Yeah? Well Y/n is crying.”

“Wait what?” Peter asked, looking around for Y/n.

“Yep! Have any idea why that may be?” Tony asked again.

Peter’s face fell. He picked up on what was going on.

“Oh… Where is she?”

“Restroom.”

“I’m gonna go wait for her.. to come out.. and uh-” Peter stammered.

“Mhm. Yep. Go.” Tony said firmly.

“Yeah.” Peter said, getting up from the table. He made eye contact with Bucky, who was giving him a death glare. That scared him a bit. He made his way into the noisy restaurant in pursuit of Y/n. He waited outside the restroom hall.

…

You walked out of the restroom, having dried your tears and were fighting the ones that were threatening to fall. You were walking straight ahead, when a hand landed on your shoulder, startling you a bit. It was Peter. You felt embarrassed that you even got upset. You felt like you really were weak.

“Hey. May I talk to you?” Peter asked kindly.

You nodded.

Peter put his hand on your back and led you through the crowded restaurant outside to the front. You both sat on a bench, facing the parking lot.

“Y/n, I’m so sorry for what I said. I took it too far.” Peter apologized.

“It’s okay.. I took it too far too. You are an Avenger, and I didn’t mean to make you feel like you’re not included. We’re all a family.” You said.

“No, I know you were just kidding. I just took it too personally. Before I got bit, I uh… well I could be pretty mean to people. To keep them away from me. It was a defense mechanism and that kind of came out today. I really didn’t mean what I said.” Peter said, taking your hand in his, sorrow filling his eyes.

“It’s okay. I know that it’s true and I can be annoying.” You said, quietly looking at the ground. “But I can work on it and I can be better.”

Peter furrowed his eyebrows. “What? What are you talking about? You’re not annoying!”

“No, it’s okay. It’s just, you know, with HYDRA, I never… had anyone to cling to, so I do it too much now.” You explained.

“Y/n, you don’t annoy anyone! Affection from you is not annoying. It’s precious.” Peter said with a small blush.

You looked up at him and smiled.

“Everyone loves it… Everyone loves you.” Peter reassured.

“Thank you, Peter. I’m sorry I got upset. It’s just one of my insecuri-”

Peter cut you off, shaking his head. He looked you in the eyes, and from the look he gave you, you knew to stop apologizing.

“I’m sorry I made you cry...” Peter said softly, looking into your eyes.

You both sat a moment.

“I love you, Peter.” You whispered, tackling him in a hug. He laughed and hugged you back.

“Are you still my best friend?” He asked.

“Always.”

You and Peter went back to the back patio of the restaurant and your food had arrived. You were both smiling, walking side by side. Steve, Bucky, and Tony were happy to see you both had clearly made up.

“Well look who’s smiling again.” Bucky said with a smirk, squishing your face.

“Daaaaddy stoooop! You said bashfully.

Bucky chuckled. You looked up at Steve who was smiling as well.

“Well Bucky, she’s smiling again. Do you think she’ll giggle?” Steve squinted.

“I wonder.” Bucky pondered, beginning to tickle all over your back.

You tried to hold in your giggles out of embarrassment, but the tickles were so unbearable that you knew you wouldn’t last long. All it took was for you to look at Steve, who wiggled his eyebrows at you, for you to just lose it.

“There it is!” Bucky cheered, lightly scribbling the middle of your back.

You arched your back, swatting at your dad’s hand as you giggled. He let up and he and Steve laughed at your reaction while you blushed.

It was night time and everyone had made it back to the cabin, all sitting around the fire, talking and laughing. You felt relaxed and happy. Everyone did. You were currently putting your s’more together, while you watched Peter frantically blow on his flaming marshmallow. You laughed hysterically, pointing at him.

“What are you laughing at, Y/n? That was you about two minutes ago!” Wanda teased, poking your right side as she sat in her chair, causing you to flinch away and giggle.

“It was!” Natasha, who was sitting on the other side of where you were standing, said with the same tone, double poking your left. You giggled more.

“Yeeeah it was!” Peter joined, wiggling his fingers into your tummy, before slipping past you to the back table to make his s’more. He really tickled you and you nearly dropped your plate as you cackled.

Everyone smirked at you. You started eating your s’more a little nervously and were making your way back to your chair.

“Oh, is this what we’re doing?” Sam asked playfully, giving your neck a tickle as you walked by. You squeaked and ran to your seat before anyone else tried to get you.

“Ticklish Y/n. Never gets old!” Tony mused as everyone nodded, agreeing.

“So embarrassing!” You whined. You finished your s’more with an embarrassed smile plastered on your face.

There were chuckles all around.

“It’s the cutest thing when you squeeze her sides and she has that fantastic belly laugh!” Steve described.

“That’s the BEST!” Bucky said.

You hid your face in your hands.

“Oh! I know what you’re speaking of!” Thor chimed in. “It has been a while since I’ve tickled Y/n.” Thor raised his eyebrow at you and a giant swarm of butterflies flooded your stomach.

“Go for it! She loves it!” Steve smirked.

“NO I DON’T!” You defended.

Steve gave you that look and you gave him a shut up shut up shut up look.

“Yes! Get her, Thor!” Tony encouraged.

Thor smirked and slowly stood up. You started giggling nervously, and took off running toward the house. You ran so fast through the grass that your flip flops flew off. You could hear him coming toward you, and right when you reached the steps, he caught you. You let out a scream and he just laughed evilly. He carried you like a baby back to his seat while you pathetically tried to get away.

“What’s the matter, princess?” Thor asked as he walked across the grass.

“Ihihihi aham scahahared!”

“Don’t be scared! I’m just spending time with my Y/n is all! I might make her laugh a bit!” Thor said in a terribly teasing tone.

“Ohohoho noooo.” You whined, super nervous and flustered.

He plopped down with you in his seat and held you while you braced yourself.

“This is a very nice fire, isn’t it.” Thor asked everyone casually, still holding you like a baby.

You looked up at him confused. Did he change his mind? He had a small smirk on his godly face and his blue eyes twinkled with mischief. Thor looked down at you and pretended to be shocked.

“Oh! Y/n! Haha I almost forgot! I was going to give you tickles!” He exclaimed and dug his wiggling fingers right into the middle of your tummy. Okay, THAT tickles.

You began howling with laughter and a huge smile spread across Thor’s face.

“Y/n loves tickles!” He exclaimed, still tickling your tummy as you were stuck in his arms.

You didn’t want to get away anyway, but you also did because of how much it tickled.

After a while of tummy tickling, he stopped and you caught your breath, a big smile on your face.

“On Asgard, we have different ways to tickle!” Thor began while you waited anxiously. “Do you know what it feels like to be pecked by a raven? Here, let me show you!” He teased as he began poking and wiggling each one of your ribs, while you squealed with laughter. He chuckled at you.

He continued tickling your ribs for a while until he stopped again.

“Oh and do you know what it’s like when a dragon breathes fire?” He asked.

You shook your head with a nervous smile.

“It’s like this!” He shouted before lifting you up, blowing multiple raspberries on your tummy. His raspberries were the most ticklish ones you’ve ever felt, and his beard added to it. Your laughter fell silent and he stopped again.

“Buck.. Steve… Thor wins.” You said catching your breath, referring to the question they asked you this morning. They both just laughed.

“I win what?” Thor asked.

“Your raspberries tickle the most!” You said bashfully.

“They do?” Thor asked with a grin. “What about my knee tickles?” He began squeezing and scribbling on your knees and you when straight back to squealing with adorable laughter in Thor’s arms, failing to escape the tickling on your sensitive knees. He then began to squeeze your thighs and you laughed like crazy. It tickled so much you thought you might die.

“Tickle tickle tickle!” Thor taunted as he now began to dig into your underarms. You fell in and out of silent laughter.

“THOHOHOR! STAHAHAP! THAT TIHIHICKLES!” You shouted through your laughter. This was unbearable.

“It’s supposed to tickle, Y/n/n! I’m tickling you!” Thor said.

“I CAHAHAN’T!” You wheezed.

Thor chuckled and had mercy on you while you caught your breath.

“Would you like for me to stop?” He asked, still laughing along with you.

You didn’t want to say “yes” and you didn’t have the courage to say “no,” so you just kept giggling.

“I’ll take that as a “no!”’ Thor grinned, before reaching down to scribble the bottom of your feet.

You laughed so hard that you had to get him to stop, so you reached up and tickled his neck. He laughed his low, handsome laugh.

“Hey! I’m the one tickling you!” He teased sweetly, before scribbling all over your neck and collarbones. He had tickled you so much that your laughter had become hoarse and he knew you had enough.

“Did that tickle?” He asked with a big smile, while gently tickling your belly button.

“Yehehes!” You giggled.

“Good!” He said, ceasing his tickling and giving you a kiss on the cheek.

You were worn out after a long day and all the tickles from Thor. You stayed in his arms and fell asleep, listening to his soft voice, as well as the voices of everyone else you loved.

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kpop-fanatic-lover16 · 5 years

Text

Submit – Park Seonghwa

Warnings: mafia, angst and a tiny bit of fluff at the end <3

The rotting monster inside your chest kept pulling your mood down as you punched constantly at the sand filled bag in front of you. Anger was clouding your mind and your body shook with adrenaline. Every punch you threw slowly began to get shaky and fell through the cracks when it came to delivering strength. This had occured multiple times for more than a month. It felt like you were loosing yourself in this stirred up anger. How in the world could you refocus long enough to gain the slightest bit of your reputation back?

He was dragging your focus away with every observation he was making as you worked your hands and arms raw of energy. The fact that his eyes were burning into your body wasn't helping your self-esteem.

"Focus!" Jongho's voice boomed out, scaring you slightly off track. He sighed impatiently at your pause and walked up behind you for the tenth time. His hands jerked your torso at an angle and he lined your shoulders up with the punching bag. "The first one ready is the first one to win! You'll never be ready if you continue to punch like that. Refocus and for the love of my sanity, punch the bag correctly!"

Having enough of his shouting, you disregarded his commands and turned around. "Enough! I can't hardly stand because I'm exhausted and your shouting is worsening my form!"

Jongho's jaw tightened at your outburst. "Winners don't get exhausted."

When you tried to walk away, he grabbed your arm to jerk you back to the punching bag. It threw you off, but you still proceeded to attack him. Jongho wasn't happy with this either. Within half a second, he had you pinned to the floor. One of his hands was pressing your head to the floor while his body blocked yours from moving out from underneath him.

"Get out of this room." he growled, his patience spent with trying to get you to cooperate.

Feeling beaten down you left Jongho and his furious attitude, which he tried to keep contained. How in the world were you going to regain your focus? You had to be strong enough to co-exist in this mafia and you were nowhere near close to being good. All you had to do was defend yourself and then you could go anywhere without fearing for your life. Those were your husband's rules and nothing else would satisfy his demands.

Back in the lounge, you walked in on a pool match between two of your husband's friends. They lifted their heads to acknowledge your entrance, but you paid them no attention. As you were passing by them to get to the stairs, that led up to the bar, a pool stick blocked your path. Annoyed, your eyes followed the arm attached to the pool stick and up to gaze at San who was in charge of technology, especially skilled in hand to hand combat, and a beast in artillery.

"Boss is waiting for you upstairs." San mumbled with a caring look in his dark eyes. You reached down and squeezed his out stretched hand and nodded before taking a deep breath and walking over to the stairs. You glanced over your shoulder at Yunho and San who watched you leave the room.

Up two flights of stairs, was a bar in the lounge space near your room with couches and a huge fireplace warming the cold wood floors and the wide open area. When you looked around only the bartender was in the room leaving you to wonder what San had meant when he said your husband was waiting for you up here.

The bartender, Wooyoung, smiled and watched you take a seat at the end of the bar before working on making your usual. He set the drink down in front of you and gave you some extra fruit to snack on while you waited for your husband who was apparently dealing with some business in his office.

"He seemed agitated before he took the call he's on right now." Wooyoung warned, knowing you weren't having a good day and having a sense that your spirit was down.

"Did he? I'll talk to him about it then." you replied, finishing the last bit of kiwi and sliding the bowl back to him so he could clean it up.

Not long after, Wooyoung turned in for the night and left you in silence; but not before telling you to help yourself to any bottle of alcohol he had because his nature was that of a kind one. It brightened up your mood a bit, but you still felt ashamed of yourself for not making it as far as you wanted to in training.

Slowly, you twirled the black straw in big circles to stir the contents in your cup as you sat in thought. What interrupted your train of thinking was the gentle touch of strong hands resting on the tops of your shoulders and softly sliding down your arms to rest on your elbows. A hushed kiss brushed the nape of your neck and a deep heavy sigh left the person behind you.

"Are you wearing the new perfume I got you?" Seonghwa questioned, coming around on your right and taking a seat on the stool next to you. You nodded, tearing your eyes away from your cup and giving him a halfhearted smile. The guilt was overwhelming you to the point of tears because you didn't want to disappoint Seonghwa after you had promised to train hard and make it in his network.

"I can feel your sadness my love," Seonghwa hushed, noticing your mood and sensing a bad day. "Let's turn in for the night so you can rest."

Another nod was all Seonghwa received as he pulled you off the stool and walked with you to your shared room where he let you get ready for bed. He seemed on edge when he thought you weren't looking, but changed immediately when he noticed you watching. It was a strange thing to see because Seonghwa was never this paranoid about any situation, whatever it might be. While you changed, Seonghwa also got into bed time attire and retreated to your king size bed where he sat on his phone waiting for you to join him.

"Seonghwa," you called from the bathroom while you finished rubbing your moisturizer into your skin. "Wooyoung said you were agitated earlier."

"Oh I was just irritated by the lack of maturity during that business deal." Seonghwa admitted, smiling innocently at your curious figure. With a soft smile, you gazed at him from where you were resting on the bathroom door frame. He was lying. Wooyoung said it was before the business deal that he was agitated.

He set his phone down on the bed and patted the spot next to him in an invitation. Happily, you walked over to the bed and climbed in on your side. Practically bouncing, you nestled under the sheets and pulled them up to your nose, sneaking a glance at Seonghwa who watched you with a sparkle in his eyes.

"What are you so giddy about?" Seonghwa chuckled. A kiss was pressed to his cheek before you pulled away and cuddled into his side.

"You are hot tempered some times." you teased hiding your knowledge about his lie. Secretly, you poked his side with your index finger and laughed at the sudden desperate attempt he made to move away from being tickled in the sensitive area.

"What happened today that made you so upset?" Seonghwa asked lightly, pulling you closer under the covers with him as you both settled into a comfortable position.

"Just Jongho." you truthfully spoke, avoiding the real reason you were so upset and blaming Jongho who was only a quarter of the problem. Seonghwa hummed in disapproval at the networks maknae for being so insensitive. He guessed right when he asked if Jongho was being too hard on you which only made him more on edge.

"How come you are on edge?"

"It's nothing to worry about."

Seonghwa shut down the question, making it impossible for you to ask it again. For a brief moment, Seonghwa caught you off guard as he leaned down closely, touching his nose with yours and then pressing his lips against yours in a very tender kiss that left you breathless. He curled you into his side and pulled you tightly into him before turning off the room lights and forcing both of you to sleep. It was a bit strange that Seonghwa was acting this way, but Jongho had worked your body so hard you couldn't fight off sleep engulfing you if you had tried. The clock next to your bed ticked its last tock before peace left the present and raging panic reared up behind you with a unwanted series of unfortunate events.

"Y/n! Y/n! Wake up, Sweetheart!" a voice desperately whispered in a panicked fashion. Alertly, your eyes shot opened and searched frantically for your arousor. When everything came into focus, Seonghwa was standing on your left side hovering over you.

"What is it?" you mumbled out, trying to form words after a while of sleeping. It wasn't as easy as you thought it would be. It was nearly three o'clock in the morning.

"I need you to get dressed quickly." Seonghwa urged, pulling the covers off your body and gently, yet hastily, taking your arm and sitting you up in bed. Without hesitation or doubt in what he was doing, you got up and quickly went to your closet to change into something other than your pajamas. Seonghwa suddenly appeared in the bathroom as you finished combing out your hair. "Pack anything that is important to you because we're not coming back."

Confusion and worried sunk into the pit of your stomach as you rushed to grab the duffle bag in your closet. Quickly, you unzipped the front part and dumped all of your essentials in there before running to your beside table and packing important stuff. When you finished that, you grabbed a reasonable amount of clothes and a few pairs of shoes. There was no telling where you were going to end up so you needed to take what you could.

Seonghwa suddenly appeared in the doorway with his face mask on and a baseball cap over his head to hide his eyes as best as he could. Thinking of your identity too, he tossed you a mask and a cap as well before rushing around, grabbing gadgets he had stored in your bedroom after a long day. He wouldn't look at you in the eyes for more than half a second as he glanced at your frozen figure. Then it clicked.

"Is this what I wasn't supposed to worry about?" you questioned, putting on the cap and face mask. Seonghwa peeked at you in the corner of his eye, but continued to grab things around the room where he stuffed them in the equipment bag he was holding. "Park Seonghwa, answer me!"

Seonghwa stopped and finally faced you. "Not right now Y/n!" he boomed, shocking you in your spot.

"The vans are ready." San suddenly informed from the bedroom door with Jongho right behind him. Seonghwa watched you for a second longer realizing his choice in tone and words.

Anger filled your body as you turned around and snatched your most prized possession; the wedding ring Seonghwa had given you as a promise to never lie and to always work as a team. Shaking your head at your husband, you smashed the diamond on your left ring finger and then grabbed your zipped duffle bag so you could get going. With boldness, you brushed past Seonghwa and straight to San and Jongho where the maknae took your bag immediately, heading down to the loaded vans. San got the worst of your anger as you bumped into him on your way out. The sound of his shoulder whacking into the wall behind him thumped the sheet rock and elicited a gasp of pain from San.

"Brat." Seonghwa growled under his breath as he finished getting the gadgets. With his jaw clenched, eyes wide in warning, and his head tilted to the side slightly, San gazed at Seonghwa with a 'you better stop, you've already set her off' expression. Seonghwa responded by roughly tossing the bag of gadgets at San and leaving the room right on his tail with a 'don't test me' look burning in his eyes. San didn't say anything in response and lead the way down to the vans where everyone was loading up.

"Everyone get in a van or you're left behind!" Yeosang barked orders as men rushed around the paved driveway. Only when you appeared did Yeosang's hightened commands and top priorities calm down to a low level.

"You're in van number three," Yeosang's voice came back to his normal volume and his tone returned to calm and collected. Not that anyone had to point it out, but you were ticked off at the fact that everyone knew what was going on and Seonghwa refused to tell you.

"Load up!" the sound of your husband's voice roared out as he walked out onto the driveway. He quickly made his way over to you and Yeosang who stood still watching the commotion. He grabbed your hand in his like he normally would and made an attempt to bring you to one of the vans. You knew your role in your marriage, but you couldn't fulfill that role if Seonghwa didn't fulfill his. Making quick work of his hand you pulled away and turned away from him.

Suddenly, you were forced to face your husband by the jerk of your right shoulder and was startled by the extremely hard grip on your bicep. Seonghwa yanked you closer to his face and lowered his tone. Yeosang left the two of you to your arugment, knowing better than to eavesdrop.

"I think you've forgotten who has the power here."

There was nothing Seonghwa could do to scare you because you loved him too much. He could be intimidating when he wanted which unnerved you a lot, but you were never scared. You lifted your chin up and leaned in closer with a hard gaze in your eyes. "I think you have forgotten that your power as a mafia boss does not command my submission to you."

"As a mafia boss everyone, including my wife, is sworn to submit to my commands." Seonghwa growled, squeezing your arm in his palm. Pain shot up your shoulder and burned your skin. With your left hand, you reached up and smacked Seonghwa on his cheek. Not hard, just enough to get his attention and clear his clouded head.

"The only person I swore to was my best friend at the alter where I promised to submit to him as a wife and a friend." you felt his hand release you slowly as the words you spoke sunk into his head. Your tone faltered in that moment as they too sunk into you. Seonghwa had completely disregarded you from the love of his life to just another person in his network. "And in case you forgot, you swore to love your wife as a husband is supposed to, and not order her around as if she was another human being underneath you."

Seonghwa completely released you, struggling to lock his gaze with yours and collect his thoughts. He was lost in everything you had just said to him and even more stricken over the slap to his face. He took several steps back from you and tried to hide the obvious stinging in his eyes at the power you had stood up to him with.

"Get in a van," Seonghwa mumbled, getting ready to walk away from you but stopping in his tracks and glancing over his shoulder with a softer tone. "Please."

It didn't take very long before everyone was loaded up and the sound of slamming van doors thudded through the air. Van number three roared to life as you jumped into the passenger seat and buckled yourself. Yunho, another one of Seonghwa's friends, steered the vehicle out of the driveway and behind van number two who was following van number one. Hongjoong and Mingi, weapons and drug handlers, were the drivers for the two vans in front of your van where they led everyone far away from only one of Seonghwa's many bases.

"Hey, if you're interested, " Yunho spoke up. "I could give you some training tips."

You looked over at him with interest. Yunho glanced over at you and smiled slightly. When you first decided to train in the business Yunho had stepped up to help, but Jongho ended up being your trainer because he was in charge of strength. Now it seemed like a reasonable offer since Jongho did nothing to improve what you were lacking in and only drove you to put in more power.

"I would like that." you answered, matching his teddy bear smile with a smile of your own. "Thank you, Yunho."

A few days later, you were now stationed at another base nearly ten hours away from the last one. Seonghwa hadn't seen you in nearly three days because he was so busy in trying to get everything up and running, but mainly avoiding the problem at hand. The distance drove you further into thinking that he didn't love you anymore and all that was holding him back was the courage to ask you for a divorce.

Another loud bam disrupted your day dreaming and brought you back to reality that kept slipping from you. Yunho had just demonstrated a palm punch to one of the boxing bags, but you hadn't been paying attention. Jongho and Hongjoong sat off in the distance watching Yunho train you in strategy rather than power.

Yunho knew your body type could never be as powerful as Jongho was raising it to be, so to save your energy, Yunho was working your critical thinking and other stealthily abilities to try and get your self esteem back up. Of course you still needed to learn hand to hand combat but Yunho would work on that as soon as he knew your confidence was back up to a solid nine or at the lowest, an eight.

"Y/n." Yunho began, noticing your loss in focus. Confused, you looked up and saw the concern in his facial expression. "What is on your mind?"

"Nothing, just haven't been sleeping." you replied, brushing a thin layer of sugar over your lie in hopes of not worrying him. It didn't pass Yunho though and everything came to a stop as Yunho pulled you gently by your wrist over to where Jongho and Hongjoong sat. Hongjoong opened his left arm and let you lean into him; he was the only one besides Jongho, San and Yeosang who knew you and Seonghwa were at odds.

"As much as mafia survival requires physical strength and a great mind to work your way through tough situations, your mental state is vital. Without your mentality, you can't win against your opponent and at the moment you can't even focus."

"I'm sorry." you apologized, guilty once more for not trying your hardest to be the best you could.

"What's bothering you?" Yunho repeated, hoping you would tell him, Hongjoong and Jongho, exactly what was keeping you back.

Silence held the air for a few moments as you contemplated on whether or not to tell them about the fight you had with your husband. The trust you had built with these boys was strong and unchangeable, but like with every person you trust completely, there is always something you hold back from telling them. Hongjoong and Jongho hadn't heard of the whole fight, but they knew that things were sore. Subconsciously, you felt a light squeeze from Hongjoong.

"Seonghwa and I got into a fight right before we left in a hurry." you sighed, finally letting the words that have been built up inside you for nearly three days flow out. "He wouldn't tell me what was going on. Not even before we went to sleep. Then he treated me like I was just any other person under him by ordering me around like a rag doll."

"He didn't physically hurt you, right?" Jongho mumbled, glancing around Hongjoong. Even though Jongho was tough on you, he cared gratefully for you. Part of that care was always with him even on the rough days.

Denying the question, you shook your head. At least he hadn't done so intentionally. "Right before I got into a van, I realized that he hadn't been looking at me as the girl who walked down the aisle to him. Now he's been ignoring me since we got here and hasn't bothered fixing anything. I already tried to, but he kept saying that he's busy."

"We're not continuing our training until you both work out the disagreement. I know you won't improve if your mind isn't one hundred percent clear." Yunho stated, leaning back a bit and giving you a pointed look. Deep in the back of your head you knew he was right, things needed to be fixed.

Later that evening, Seonghwa was in his headquarters going through some blueprints all the while coming close to half a centimeter of pulling all his hair out. The stress in his body was overwhelming his nerves and the lack of sleep was killing his brain in the slowest way possible. Those two things were depriving him, but the biggest one was you.

Seonghwa breathed a heavy sigh as he dropped the blueprints and left his desk to go sit down on one of the armchairs by the fireplace that was burning wildly. His head fell into his hands at the thought of your argument and all that he had done to hurt you. Everytime it popped into his head he saw your eyes; the extra shine they held which indicated you were close to tears and the dark shadow they casted into his heart. The life from them was gone and it had been his fault. Never in a million years had he meant to treat you as if you were a peasent under his feet. All he wanted to do was protect you from fear and the stress that Seonghwa constantly withheld.

A knock at the door to his office disrupted his thoughts and pulled his head out of his hands. He rose from the armchair and walked over to the door, instinctively putting his left hand behind his back where his fingers brushed the metal of his gun, which was tucked into the waistband of his pants. Without hesitation, he opened the door and revealed who had knocked.

"Y/n." he breathed. Just the sight of you gave him energy. He opened the door farther and let you into the dark room. The door closed shut once more as you looked around his new office.

"Are you busy?" you asked, praying that he wouldn't turn you down. The room was warm compared to the air out in the hall and one light by his desk helped to display the room.

"I'm never too busy for you," Seonghwa hummed out, following you over to the armchairs. "You know that."

"Oh," you hushed softly. Seonghwa watched you closely as you sat down on the edge of one of the chairs. "I guess I thought after three days of not hearing from you that those words didn't apply anymore."

Seonghwa felt his heart break once more. Silence engulfed both of you as you waited for him to do anything. What you wanted him to do was to grab you and hug you for the first time again and kiss you and apologize for everything he had done and maybe start over. The thoughts inside your head kept telling you to prepare yourself for the worst and to just give up on the whole matter. Seonghwa remained silent to the point of breaking. Having enough of drowning in your thoughts, you got up and made a plan to leave.

"Y/n, wait." he spoke, breaking the quiet and blocking you from escaping his grasp. "Just let me think and give me the chance to speak."

The two of you stood still for a second as you waited. Finally, he held out both of his hands for you to take, which you did. Initially you thought he was going to take you somewhere, but instead he pulled you close to him and straight into one of his warm hugs. His cologne filled your senses as you came in contact with his shoulder. In that moment, Seonghwa broke.

For the first time in so long, tears escaped his eyes and everything about you engulfed him. Your hair, scent, feeling, height, soft skin and how hard you were squeezing him. He choked on his tears and tried to breathe in heavily. "I've made the biggest mistake of my entire life. Pushing those I love far away."

"Seonghwa—"

"I'm so sorry I didn't tell you anything. My rival found our location and knew exactly where you went on a daily basis. They threatened to kill you and so I made the initial decision to leave, but I hurt you in the process while I thought I was protecting you. I didn't tell you anything because I didn't want you to fear for your life like I did." Seonghwa pulled back from the hug and cupped just under your ears to look into your eyes. "Y/n, all I want to ask you is two things and I will never ever ask for a single thing again."

His thumb moved under your eye to catch the tears that you didn't know were forming. Both of your foreheads connected as you gathered up the fabric of his shirt as his sides. "Please don't leave me. I can't do this without you."

"I'm not going anywhere." you promised, squeezing him closer to you. That was the first request, and the other?

"Please," his words uttered out in a whisper as he closed his eyes and swallowed the lump in his throat. "Submit to me again."

Now it was your turn to cry. Not caring about anything, you tilted your head up and kissed Seonghwa with the most passion you could muster up. His broad arms curled around your waist as he closed the gap between both of you. Fresh tears fell from his face when his eyes closed, trying to feel every bit of you in that one kiss.

"I love you so much and I promise to do so every day for the rest of my life. Don't forget that." Seonghwa whispered after you had pulled back. The tears were falling so fast that you didn't have the chance to respond. He tried his best to dab them away with his fingers, but it wasn't doing much.

"Why are you crying so much?" he chuckled lightly, reaching behind him to give you a tissue. You laughed half-heartedly at the light joke.

"What do you mean why am I crying?" you questioned with a bit of humor laced in your sobs.

"Sweetheart..." he cooed softly at your empathy and pure heart.

"I finally have my Seonghwa back and how could I hate a husband who protected me from harm?" you breathed out, dabbing your eyes with the tissue.

"I love you." his lips pressed to the crown of your head and held their spot for a bit as the both of you sat in a comfortable silence.

"Bad time?" San's voice suddenly spoke from the door. To hide your laughter, you hid your face in Seonghwa's chest. Your husband turned to look at San.

"Make yourself scarce or I will dart you to the fireplace mantle."

San was gone in a flash, but not before giving Seonghwa a flirty wink and a thumbs up. When San got into the hall, he breathed a sigh of relief. He had been walking on thin ice around Seonghwa for the last three days and now that everything was all right, maybe San could keep his head.

"Took them long enough." San mumbled fiercely under his breath.

574 notes · View notes

existentialspacecowboy · 4 years

Text

Deadeye 2: Electric Boogaloo

I added a second chapter to my fic inspired by @5hio’s wonderful royai/fma cowboy AU. What started out as a one-shot may develop into a full fic, as I really do love this! In the meantime, please enjoy this second helping <3

The fic so far is available to read over on AO3 and the second chapter can be read below the cut if that’s more your thing ;)

Hope you enjoy!

Chapter 2: sunsets and firelight

They’ve been riding for a few hours now.

Atop their respective steeds, and side-by-side, the journey has mostly passed in silence with nought but the sound of hooves against the prairie to disturb the peace.

He’s made casual conversation a few times.

But Riza doesn’t seem all that keen to talk.

It isn’t born out of rudeness, no, Roy instead supposes that she simply isn’t all that used to company.

After all, most gunslingers like her tend to go it alone.

Roy can’t think of anything worse, these few weeks he’s spent alone have been enough hell for one lifetime.

So, he’s glad for her company.

The sun is low in the sky, its orange hue casting shadows across the plains, and bathing them both in evening rays. There’s just something all the more ethereal about watching the sunset from horseback, Roy decides.

And the colour of the sky reminds him of her eyes again.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Roy pipes up, throwing his glance momentarily in her direction before continuing to observe as the sun dips steadily beneath the horizon and out of sight.

He wonders just how many sunsets she’s watched out here alone.

She hums, “We should think about making camp soon. It won’t be long until it’s dark.”

“It is getting cold,” Roy agrees.

She turns her head back towards him, “I think that’s just the alcohol making you feel cold.”

She’s right, of course.

The effects of the alcohol still linger within Roy’s system, even despite the sobering experience of the bar fight. There’s a dull throbbing behind his eyes and in his temples that tells him the morning hangover is going to be killer.

But that’s a problem for the Roy of tomorrow.

They canter for a little while longer, Riza’s dog contributing the occasional bark at its own shadow, before the woman stops suddenly and dismounts from her horse.

“This seems like as good a place as any,” she informs him as she surveys the area with hands poised sharply at her waist.

Roy decides to defer to her judgment. Frankly, he’s not so sure what makes this particular spot any better than the miles and endless miles of dust they’ve already trekked through today, but he’s happy to stop. He’s exhausted, and his own Mustang beneath him is flagging too.

It’s been a long day.

Clambering down from his horse with about as much grace, coordination and dignity that a drunkard can have, Roy successfully manages to get his boot caught in his stirrup.

Overshooting the force required to release his foot, Roy sends himself toppling backwards and he lands with a harsh thud, his back stinging against the ground.

“Ow!” He splutters, choking on the dust his impact kicked up. Escorting a hand behind himself, Roy rubs at the impact site on his back and knows that it’s definitely going to bruise.

He silently hopes that Riza hasn’t just seen him make a complete arse of himself.

She has.

“I’m impressed you were able to stay upright on your horse for the entire ride,” Riza explains, arms full of bundled canvas and bedrolls, with her amusement barely concealed.

“I’ve been way more drunk than this before,” Roy states, wearing it like a badge of honour. He grins up at her dumbly, but she isn’t impressed in the slightest.

“Here,” she says with a curt roll of her eyes, dropping a bedroll down onto Roy’s stomach like a dead weight.

It’s the second time today he’s had the wind knocked out of him, this time his legs shoot comically upwards and curl inwards towards his chest from the bedroll’s impact.

I probably deserved that, he thinks.

Standing to his full height, and pushing the bedroll under his arm, Roy moves to tie his steed to the abandoned fencepost next to Riza’s own. He brushes his palm gently down his horse’s snout, offering her praises and a fuss behind one ear.

Riza has already set about making her tent when Roy strides back over, she’s efficient in its assembly and he supposes it must be second nature for her by this point.

The same can’t be said for him.

Rolling out the bedroll is simple enough, but setting up a tent? Roy’s sure that he doesn’t have enough arms.

And his alcohol addled mind is doing nothing to help the situation.

After what feels like hours of fumbling, and with his head trapped inside the canvas somehow, he feels another pair of hands take the material and help to free him.

“Here, let me,” Riza says softly, impressed by Roy’s enthusiasm, but amused by his failure. “You collect the firewood instead.”

That’s probably a little bit more up to his speed.

A short stroll away from the camp leads him to a babbling stream; on its banks, he finds dried perennial grasses and old branches. He puffs his chest out in victory and gathers arms full of the stuff so that he can make a sufficient fire.

His foraging effort successful, he returns to camp to find Riza proudly stood beside his tent, making the final few adjustments to ensure the structure is secure.

“Thanks,” Roy says with an honest smile, “Found us some firewood too.”

“Don’t mention it,” she says. “Just set it down over there.”

Depositing the wood, leaves and twigs into a heap, Roy reaches into his pocket to extract his lighter.

It’s pure silver, an heirloom from the father he’s never met.

Successfully sparking the fire to life with a flick of his wrist, Roy re-caps the lighter and passes his thumb idly over the initialled engraving.

He only realises he’s been daydreaming when Riza breaks the silence between them.

He realises she’s scowling.

“What was that?” Roy asks, not having heard what she’d said the first time due to his personal distraction.

“I asked if you smoke,” she repeats, voice laced with apprehension as she gestures pointedly towards the lighter, her lip curled in something like distaste.

He laughs, “Only on days with a ‘y’ in them!”

She’s not laughing.

“Well,” she begins curtly, “If you must smoke, I’d rather you didn’t do it in camp.”

Roy blinks, confused, his brow furrowed tightly. Yes mother, he thinks, but he’s able to bite his tongue.

Instead, he nods and simply repockets the lighter, “You’ve got it.”

***

Roy’s stomach gurgles in anticipation, a reminder of just how little he’s eaten over the past few days, as Riza stirs a pot of beans which sits warming enticingly over the fire.

She’s already passed him a bowl; it’s simple, wooden, and nothing like the silverware he’d been used to back when he was a sheriff.

“Should be warm enough by now,” Riza hums, extending her arm outwardly towards Roy.

He passes her the bowl, eyeing her over the top of it with an expression akin to a puppy begging for scraps, as she begins to fill it.

“Please, ma’am,” he drawls, “May I have some more?”

“Idiot,” she says endearingly with a shake of her head. “Fine, you can have another scoop.”

Victorious, and with his bowl piled high, Roy immediately gets to work. Jamming his spoon deep into the bowl, he piles up a hefty portion and pushes it deep into his mouth.

He watches keenly as Riza sets aside a more conservative portion for herself before seating herself down beside him. She has a bottle in hand, too. Roy hopes that it’s something strong. He holds his hand out expectantly.

She scoffs.

“Absolutely not,” Riza scolds. Instead, she tosses him a bota bag. “It’s water-only for you, at least until you sober up.”

Roy whines, catching the bottle and uncapping it before taking a glug. He’s almost forgotten what water tastes like.

They nourish themselves in silence for a while longer until both of their bowls are emptied. She collects his, rises to her feet, and sets them aside to wash in the morning.

Roy wonders if she ever stops thinking about what’s next.

But he also supposes that ignorance is a luxury not afforded by those who call the Wild West their home.

It’s a while before she seats herself beside him again and, when she does, she has another bottle in hand. She sips slowly from it, her focus trained on the flickering campfire.

“You really know your way around out here, huh?” Roy asks, shattering the silence, and keen to know more about her.

“I’ve lived out here almost my whole life. It’s all I’ve ever known,” she explains, casting her sepia eyes over to him.

He frowns, “Have you always been out here alone?”

“Not always,” she sighs after a pause. “It used to be me and my father.”

Her eyes drift back over towards the campfire and stare idly ahead, clear in thought.

He’s clearly prodded on a nerve.

“My aunt raised me,” he interjects quickly, keen to change the subject and regain her focus.

It works. A small smile plays at her lips, a curiousness in her eyes.

“Here, just let me –” He sticks out his tongue and purses it between his lips as he rummages around inside the deep pocket of his overcoat. He finally finds his prize.

In the palm of his hand sits a gold pocket-watch; it shimmers in the dull light of the campfire, the seal of the lion clear on its front. He brushes off the lint and blows on it before he buffs it clean with the corner of his sleeve.

Her eyes are wide when he looks up.

He swallows.

She points towards the watch inquisitively, “Is that gold?”

He nods.

Something like a frown sets about her face again.

“My aunt gave it to me,” he explains.

He supposes it’s entirely likely that Riza may never have seen gold in the flesh before, especially not all the way out here.

He pushes the clasp on the watch with his thumb and reveals the clockface and small photograph inside.

He hands the photograph to her.

“That’s me and, as you can see, I’ve gotten more handsome with age,” he grins.

She chuckles with a shake of her head, her frown dissipated.

Next, Roy jabs a finger at the other figure on the photograph, “And that stubborn battle-axe right there is my aunt.”

“I can see the resemblance,” Riza notes quietly, studying the photograph.

“She raised me. I never knew my folks. They died when I was young. She never told me exactly what happened to them. Said it wouldn’t do any good to know.”

“I’m sorry,” Riza notes apologetically.

He dismisses it with a wave of his hand, “Don’t be. No use mourning parents I never knew, right?”

She hands him back the photograph, nodding her head, a flickering sadness in her own eyes, “I never knew my mother, either. She died having me, so I understand.”

Roy swallows, eyeing her apologetically, “That must be hard.”

She shakes her head, “It’s like you said, no using in mourning, even my father never spoke about her.”

“For what it’s worth,” he says, “I am sorry.”

She nods again, “Thank you.”

He leans to rest on his elbow, looking up at her.

“Hey, who needs blood relatives when you’ve got a horse, a dog, and a drunkard to look after, right?”

Sharp as a tack, she fires back, “Who says I’m keeping you?”

Roy chuckles, “Fair enough.”

At least it made her smile again.

Riza finishes her drink silently and rises to her feet. Dusting herself down, she eyes Roy like a mother scolding a son for staying up way beyond his bedtime. “It’s late,” she says, “And you need to sleep the alcohol off.”

“I’ll go take a leak,” Roy tells her, “Then I’ll head straight to bed.”

She scrunches up her nose and Roy supposes that they don’t know each other quite well enough for toilet humour just yet.

Hayate has joined the woman’s side by the time Roy has managed to drag himself up to his feet; the dog patters obediently inside the tent as Riza holds open its entrance.

He can’t help but smile at the sweet scene.

But he also can’t help but be a little bit jealous.

He’s about to ready himself for bed when he notices that he pauses before entering the tent herself.

She looks to him.

“Goodnight, Mr. Mustang,” Riza breathes softly.

Now, that makes his heart flutter.

He beams, nodding enthusiastically in acknowledgment, “Sweet dreams, Ms. Hawkeye.”

He watches as she disappears out of sight, smiling dumbly and fondly to himself for a few seconds until his brain eventually catches up and rather unhelpfully reminds him that he still really, really needs to pee.

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