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caravelmp3 · 3 years

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UNDER THE CANYON MOON

pairing: josh kiszka x female!reader warning(s): mostly fluff, just brief mentions of alcohol and sex word(s): 2k note: hi hi hi !! this is just a little something i wrote up the last couple of days with the inspiration of light my love, canyon moon by harry styles, and the interview where josh talked about road-tripping the u.s. last summer <3 i don’t write one shots often but let me know what you all think bc i might shuffle some more out soon lol. hope you all enjoy !! :)

The Los Angeles sun was hot, beating down onto the city basking in its late-summer hues. You parked your car on the street in Silver Lake and carried a bag of food and drink tray to the door of a recording studio, more than prepared to be swarmed by hungry boys who had been cooped up in the studio since five a.m. on the dot that morning. They had a breakthrough the night before with a new song, and after getting home and going to bed for a few hours, the creative juices started flowing again and they were back in the booth.

A windchime on the door sang as you pulled the door open and walked inside, greeting their manager who was at a table by the door.

“The boys here?”

“Down the hall,” he nodded, pointing a finger in the direction of the hallway. “They’re more rowdy than usual so be prepared,”

You laughed and turned down the hall, walking towards the studio. The walls were decorated with memorabilia of rock and roll greats and record plaques, and among them, you spotted a picture of the four boys with their Grammy award. It seemed like time had passed so quickly. They won the award for the first album and they were already working on their third, shooting them further into stardom.

“Coffee’s here!” You shouted in a really bad New England accent when you noticed the recording light was flipped off above the door.

You stepped into the room to a chorus of cheers and “thank god you're here”’s that made you laugh while sitting the food and drinks down on the table and they all rushed over. You handed out the specific orders and pointed to which drinks was theirs when they got handsy and tried to grab everything from her out of both excitement and some desperation for caffeine.

“Our savior,” Jake said, reaching out and grabbing your shoulders to give them a gentle shake before taking the coffee you were holding out to him, and then you handed Danny’s to him, too.

“Just the coffee girl here,”

“Well, you’re a little bit more than that,” Josh said, walking over to the table to grab his full cup.

You pressed a hand against the table, leaning over to him. “Just a little?”

“A little bit,” he shot you a wink before swiftly pressing a kiss to your cheek.

You were more than just a “little more” than the coffee girl, you were typically their designated drunk driver, the one who took all of their candid photos, the mediator in times of need, and well, the girlfriend of the lead singer, too.

Everyone in the studio took their food and drinks and scattered among the seating area in a break from recording. Instead of one tiny room with all of them cramped together, they had a wide open space with booths for the different instruments and bean bag chairs and big comfy, velvet sofas, and there was dim lighting with deep toned rugs that gave off the vibe of a more relaxed feel rather than the fluorescent-light, tiled-floor feeling that made them feel rushed and confined by rules they didn’t set themselves.

You liked the studio, too, and often took naps on the sofa while listening to them play instruments individually in the recording booths and while they were writing. One night they had found you at two a.m., bundled up with a blanket on the bean bag chair after they spent the night writing in the front room on the piano, but it wasn’t the first time as you often napped in their Nashville recording offices, too.

“You guys been busy today?” You asked jokingly while lowering onto the sofa armrest, receiving nothing but glares shot in your direction. “Okay, okay, touchy subject,”

With a mouthful of bread, Sam pointed to Josh, “Josh finished a song, didn’t you?” He was grinning.

You hummed in joy and surprise, grabbing Josh’s knee as he sat next to you. “Really?”

It had been a rough few days for all of them as they tried to shuffle out a few more additions to the new album. It felt incomplete with something missing, but they couldn’t quite put their finger on what it was exactly, so they attempted to bring back and revamp old songs, write and record new ones, but nothing seemed to stick, until now.

“Yeah, wanted to wait and show you later, but someone can’t keep his trap shut.” Josh said, pretending to be serious before cracking a smile and taking a sip of his coffee. “Just wanted it to be a surprise,”

“Well it can still be a surprise, I’m surprised now,” you said. “Can I hear it? Or read what you got?”

Josh nodded and stood, grabbing your hand and pulling you with him. There was a little recording room fit with a piano inside, his writing journal placed on the music stand where he had scribbled notes and keys and melodies in pen. He picked it up and handed it to you.

“Nothing seemed to click until last night, when I started putting it together.” He said.

“Is that why you wouldn’t tell me what it was when you all got back to the house?”

Josh shrugged, pinching his bottom lip between his thumb and forefinger. “Yeah, yeah, I wanted it to be special when you first heard it.”

You sat the coffee cup down onto the floor while lowering into the small chair in the corner, holding the journal like it was the most delicate piece of art in the world. In silence, while Josh watched on anxiously, you read the words he had splayed across the blank page.

Can you light my love? Flames glowing bright as the sun Deeper than oceans you run Watch as our world has begun

Your mind is a stream of colors Extending beyond our sky A land of infinite wonders A billion lightyears from here now

You felt your throat tighten, tears tempted your eyes.

It was a love song.

“Josh-”

“Oh god you hate it don’t you, you dread it, despise it,”

“Oh shut up, I’m in tears right now, you know I love it.” You looked up at him with a smile and a sniffle.

His words across the page were sloppy, some cursive, written in different pens of different colors, some lines crossed and scribbled out, others underlined.

“Your mind is something I will never fully understand.” You told him as he sat down on the chair next to you. “How the fuck did you come up with this-”

“I was thinking about our trip out here, the week we spent driving out and all of the stuff we did… and how I think I fell more in love with you.” His voice softened.

You reached out, placing your arm on his shoulder, fingers playing with his curls. “I can’t put it into words how much I love it, how much I love you,” you said, “and you make me sound so lovely when in reality I know I was a pain in the ass that entire trip.”

“Yeah, but my pain in the ass,” he kissed the inside of your arm.

Two weeks before the boys left Nashville to head to Los Angeles, Josh called you at midnight with an idea in mind – the two of you renting a camper to drive out to L.A., falling into all of the tourist traps along the way and stopping in random small towns to sleep while exploring the in between, which would definitely beat the boring four-hour flight. And you, half asleep and across the country, agreed.

It would be fun. Right?

And it was. Every time someone asked how it went, you called it “the most magical week of my life.”

While the others waited behind for their flights the next week, you and Josh set off from Nashville, heading west with only the destination in mind and a trusty map in hand. Everything else just came to you both.

The first stop was three hours in the trip, in Memphis. You and Josh roamed Graceland on Elvis Presley Boulevard and had lunch near Sun Studio before taking in the mementos and relics at the Blues Hall of Fame where Josh talked your ear off, rattling off more details about each band and singer than was on the info-cards on the wall.

Then it was two hours to Little Rock, falling asleep in the back of the camper after a take-out dinner outside of a random supermarket. Sitting in lawn chairs in the middle of a parking lot, you held Josh’s hand under a blanket and watched the pink sunrise over the hills, and then it was back on the road again.

From Oklahoma City to Amarillo, you fiddled with the map when Josh got lost after a wrong turn in a small town where he insisted on seeing the giant 66-foot LED soda bottle sculpture, and in the middle of northern Texas, he made it up to you by cooking your favorite dinner. You thanked him in a quiet whisper as you crawled into the bed with him that night, sliding under the covers where he greeted you with warm hands and kisses against your neck that made you squeal with the tickle of his mustache and he grinned against your lips.

Josh got to choose the music all the way through New Mexico – Neil Young and Crazy Horse to John Denver’s Thank God I’m A Country Boy, and you were only able to squeeze in Joan Baez every hour when you stopped to stretch your legs on the side of the road, belting the words to him while he laughed at your voice cracks.

And after you both pitched the tent in the Petrified Forest in Arizona, Josh hummed the tune to some new song while you two sat under the midnight stars in the canyon with a roaring fire, his arm around you, his sweatshirt draped over your shoulders. When he tried to start telling you a scary story after you heard a weird noise outside the tent, you blindly hit him in the dark and accidentally hit his nose, causing you both to burst into laughter after the initial panic left. He laughed loudly into your shoulder as you held his face in shock, catching the scent of your lavender lotion, and his body relaxed when the laughter died down, feeling so at peace in his life with you there.

It was the tail end of the trip, but the excitement hadn’t died down yet. After showers in the camper in the middle-of-nowhere-Arizona and five hours west, you and Josh found a bar outside of Las Vegas that resembled Coyote Ugly, so you both had a round of tequila sodas and margaritas before walking around the small town that evening and sleeping off the tipsy-headaches in the air conditioning. On top of the covers, you looked at Josh napping in the sunshine, cheeks flushed red, curls poofy from the wind, and you felt your heart grow in your chest before falling asleep next to him.

And then came Los Angeles, the final stop, the dreaded one. But you and Josh didn’t tell anyone that either of you were sad to be back with them in L.A. when they asked, and instead, you two smiled and hugged everyone after piling out of the camper in the drive-way of the Silver Lake house.

Cleaning out the camper, tossing cheesy novelty t-shirts at each other and laughing at how many socks you two managed to lose along the way and how many bug bites were added, watching the developed clips Josh had filmed of scenes in the desert and you asleep in the passenger seat, you both were nostalgic about a trip that just ended.

It was so easy, so freeing to just be together on the road, with only the destination in mind. It revealed a part of them that the other didn’t see often, like your tendencies to get your lefts and rights mixed up while giving directions, and Josh’s equally awful sense of direction didn’t exactly pair with the fact that he was a maniac while driving in the first place.

But those parts were just added to the long list of why you and him loved each other in the first place. So you became the designated driver after Amarillo and Josh stuck to telling you “left or right” for the rest of the time. It was a compromise, another reason why you two worked so well together.

It was a form of love in itself.

“We’ll have to drive all the way back to Nashville then, so you can write more songs about me.” You teased.

Josh rolled his eyes but cracked into a grin a second later. “Let’s not get too carried away,” but he would be lying if he said he wasn’t always mentally reliving the night under the canyon moon.

#gvf imagine #greta van fleet imagine #gvf #gvf one shot #greta van fleet one shot #gvf fanfic #greta van fleet fanfic #josh kiszka imagine #josh kiszka one shot #josh kiszka fanfic #greta van fleet

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enthusiasticharry · 4 years

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The Secrets You Keep

summary: you're a stripper, and you meet Harry off shift. what happens when he finds out?

request: hiiii would you be able to do something like stripper y/n? not where they meet at the club or anything but something natural like at a cafe or something but she keeps it from him bc she thinks he’ll leave her? then he has a guys night at the strip club and sees her perform? but he loves it and she’s a bit embarrassed? idk but that kinda vibe if ur up for it! X

word count: 8.3k words of fluff, smut and angst if you squint (and i really mean squint) also not proofread, sorry!

masterlist | asks

It never occurred to you that once you left full time education you’d end up becoming a stripper. It wasn’t the occupation you had envisioned for yourself, but it was the one that paid the best money and even though it shouldn’t be — money was the thing that you needed the most. You lived in a small, one bedroom flat that you shared with your Grandma who had no income and little pension meaning that you was the only source of income for the two of you. Obviously it was hard upon you, but your Grandma had done so much for you when you were younger that you wanted to help her as much as you possibly could. Granted, finding a job as an eighteen year old that was enough to help pay the bills and for the treatment your Grandmother needed wasn’t the easiest, and that was how you stumbled across the club and the jobs there. Your Grandma didn’t know how you received your income, and you planned to keep it that way for as long as you physically could.

“Have you got any private dances today?” Jocelyn, also known as Sapphire amongst the people in the club, asked as she started fixing her makeup in the mirror next to yours.

“I don’t know.” You sighed, spraying a small amount of hairspray upon your curls, “I haven’t spoken to Elliot yet.”

“Apparently some big shot businessmen are coming in tomorrow.” Ruby adds from the other side of you, applying a lipstick that matched her name to her lips.

“Ugh.” Sapphire groaned, “That means old men with small dicks wanking to us instead of being with their probably very lovely, loving wives at home.”

“They lust after the taboo.” You add, applying a small amount of lipgloss to your lips, “They want what they can’t have, and brag when they get it.”

“They have money though.” Ruby shrugged, “Haven’t had many tips this week. I’d probably do anything for a couple hundred quid tomorrow.”

“Not anything Ruby.” You turn to look at her, shaking your head at the younger girl, “Stand your ground. Don’t let them take advantage of you.”

“I won’t.” She smiled, “I learnt from the best.”

“And don’t you forget it.”

As a fresh eighteen year old, just as Ruby was now, you could’ve only hoped for someone to help you and guide you through the trails and tribulations you endured at the club. That’s why you sort of took the younger girl under your wing and helped her as much as possible.

It wasn’t a lot. Granted, with what they did the majority of it was on their own upon the stage or in a private dance but you wanted to make sure she had small tips to help her handle herself in any situation that could occur and that she someone to talk to if she ever needed it.

“Are you working tomorrow, Emerald?” Emerald was your stage name.

“No.” You sigh happily, “It’s my day off.”

“Enjoy yourself, you deserve it.” Ruby smiled.

You certainly did.

The next morning, after helping your Grandma get ready and to the hospital, you make your way towards the small café you usually went to during your Grandmother’s chemo sessions. They usually lasted around three hours, and whilst you offered to stay with her, she usually forced you to leave and spend some time on your own, claiming she didn’t want you to see her at her worst.

The spring days had just started to warm up, so you dressed yourself in a summer dress you had picked up for cheap at a charity shop. You carried your tote bag with your book in over your shoulder as you pushed past the people on the street.

It wasn’t usually this busy, and looking around you saw no free tables but a few free chairs dotted around. Your favourite table, tucked away in the far right corner by the window had been taken by a man sat reading, just as you would’ve been. You toy back and forth with the idea of going to sit over there as you walk over to the counter.

You order your usual, a peach iced tea, and wait for the kind barista to make it. Your free days, usually, landed sporadically. They normally occurred when your grandmother either had chemo or a hospital appointment and that’s only because she can sometimes be really ill after them and needed you to look after her. Even though Elliot was not a good person by any means, he understood your situation and did help as little as he could.

“Excuse me.” The man looked up from this book at you, “Is this seat taken?”

“Uh. . .”

“It’s fine if it’s not!” Your quick to add, “There’s just no other seats.”

“No.” Your smile falters, “No! I mean that the seats not taken. It’s yours.”

“Thank you.” You drop your tote bag down on the floor, holding your hand out to the man, “I’m YN.”

“Harry.” He shakes your outstretched hand.

There was something oddly familiar about him, but you couldn’t quite place your finger on why. He dressed quite casually, a punny t-shirt that said something about health on it and you didn’t want to seem too weird and bend down to look at what he had on his bottom half but you suspected it was something just as interesting.

You take your book out of your bag and place it on the table in front of you, flicking through the pages until you found the page you had left off at.

As a child you loved to read. Your grandmother always read you a bedtime story before bed and it lead to English being your best subject at school. Whether it be the creative writing aspect, or the analytic — you were just good at it. It was your highest grade at GCSE, an A, and your highest grade at A Level, a B.

You didn’t exchange any more words with Harry the entire time you were there. Periodically you looked up at him, and somewhere deep down you hoped that he did the same for you but you couldn’t be too sure. The book that he was reading seemed interesting enough, something about watermelon, you had noticed. You had a slight suspicion that it wasn’t about watermelon but you could never be too sure you supposed.

A whine almost escaped your lips when you realised that you had to go pick up your Grandmother and your book had just gotten interesting. That was the problem when you read, you could sit and do it for hours and not even look up. It was something so interesting to you that you could immerse yourself in a world different to the one you lived in and slip out of reality for however long and return back to normal as though nothing had happened.

“Thank you for letting me sit here.” You smile as you pack your bag up, “Goodbye.”

“Bye.”

You left feeling sort of fuzzy inside. You hadn’t spoken to the man at all really, but he was kind and certainly handsome with his tousled brown hair and gentle smile. That was probably going to be the last time that you saw him, and you probably should’ve asked for his number at least but you didn’t and that was why you walked away with him laying heavy upon your mind.

The next day, you wanted nothing more than to leave in the middle of your shift and curl up on the sofa. Instead, you were stood in a private room in the back of the club swirling your hips for a man sat upon a chair in the middle.

“You’re fucking fit.” He moans, and you almost throw up in your mouth.

“Thank you.”

You move yourself so you’re hovered over his lap, twisting your hips to beat of the sultry song spilling out of the speakers. If you didn’t need the money, or have a bills to pay you certainly wouldn’t be doing this.

“Fucking sort.” That’s when his hand drops down upon your behind, squeezing the flesh harshly.

You stand up, flipping around so that you’re looking at him, “Hands off.”

“Babe.” He throws his head back, “C’mon I’ve paid bags for this dance.”

“And you pay for a dance, and the rules state no touching.”

He holds his hands up in surrender, “I’m sorry. Won’t happen again, babe.”

“Better not.”

It does, and that’s when you get up and leave. He still has to pay, which is a plus but it just isn’t the best feeling. The job you do isn’t one that people necessarily respect you for, but there are rules in place to help with that. You and the other dancers within the club were human beings and deserved the rights that any other person has.

“You okay?” Ruby presses her hand to your shoulder as you powder your under-eyes, “I heard he was touching.”

“Yeah.” You smile at her through the mirror, “Started behind and they he just full on groped me.”

“Men are pigs.”

“I second that statement.” You laugh, “But you know what they’ll say.”

“That we teased and antagonised them to do it.”

Throwing her a deadpan look, you nod. It was something that you had dealt with for the past six years of your life and even though you did hate it and wanted nothing more than for the ground to swallow you up every time it happened — you had gotten used to it.

“Did you have a nice day off yesterday?”

“I did thank you.” You smile, “Read a bit. Spent some time with my Grandma.”

“Sounds lovely.” Her face then twists into one that you can’t quite pinpoint, “You didn’t miss much here.”

“The businessmen not up too much?”

“No they paid well.” She nodded, “We just had to watch them wank their micropenises at us.”

You curl your nose up at the thought, “That sounds pleasant.”

“Totally.” She snorts.

“Emerald. Ruby.” Elliot sticks his head into the room, “Get your asses back out there.”

Ruby rolls her eyes and you laugh. Your job certainly wasn’t your favourite but some of the people around you made it more pleasant.

Two weeks later you find yourself sat in the corner of the café down the road from the hospital, your book open in front of you and a peppermint tea sat upon the table in a pot. Your Grandmother’s second round of chemo was slowly coming to the end of its stint and even though you wanted nothing more than for her to be back to the epitome of health, you would miss spending time at this small café.

“Hi.” You lift your head up to see Harry stood there, slightly breathless, “Is this seat taken?”

“It’s yours.” You smile, watching him drop his book on the table.

This time you could see his entire outfit. A white t-shirt with some writing on that you missed, a floral shirt over the top paired with red corduroy flares. You were right the last time that you met him —he did have an amazing sense of style. You, however, bought whatever was the cheapest or on sale that seemed acceptable to wear in public.

“How have you been?”

“I’ve been okay.” You smile, “You?”

“Good, thanks.” He scratches the base of his neck, “I haven’t seen you in a while.”

“Oh.” You have to stop yourself from smiling too much, “I only come when my Grandma has an appointment and they’re usually two weeks apart.”

“Ah.” He nods before his face curls, “I’m sorry if that seemed creepy.”

“It didn’t.” You can’t help the butterflies that erupt within your stomach, “I just thought I wouldn’t see you again.”

“Couldn’t let that happen.” Heat rises up your neck as he beams.

“No complaints about that from me.”

“That’s good.” He rests his hand upon his chest, letting out a deep breath, “Thought I was punching a little over my weight.”

“You’re not.” You cheeks hurt from smiling, “It’s cute.”

He looks down at his book. He seemed so shy, as though he had a confidence to talk to people but once they complimented him or something to do with him it completely changed. It was intriguing. He was already nicer to you than most people you’ve met of the opposite sex in your life and you’re let to learn anything about him apart from the fact that he reads Bukowski and likes black coffee — it certainly wasn’t much to go on.

“How long do we have until you have to go back to your Grandma?”

“Not long.” You sigh sadly, “I’m sorry.”

“No, I understand, it’s okay.” He flashes you a small smile, “Can I walk you back to the hospital?”

You ponder his offer for a second, “Yeah. I’d like that.”

You walk back to the hospital brushing arms with one of the nicest people you’d ever met, and you couldn’t be happier.

“Has your Grandma been having treatment for long?”

“It’s her second round.” You explained, “They originally removed the tumour and it went away but it came back. They caught it quickly and she’s back in bay 11 for three hours every two weeks.”

“I’m sorry.” He sighs, “That must’ve been tough.”

You shrug, “She’s a fighter, I know she is.”

“I don’t doubt she is.” He smiles, “She’s got an amazing granddaughter to stay alive for.”

The walk to the hospital isn’t long enough in your opinion. You speak about a few things, and you learn he does music and that’s when you put two and two together and realise that he’s actually Harry Styles from One Direction. Harry wished he could’ve recorded your reaction when you realised.

Harry had never met someone like you, and he had met a lot of people in his life. You were sweet, and kind and so gentle but also confident and held yourself in such a strong way that he couldn’t help but want to know you, the real you.

“This is it.” You stop in front of the entrance closest to the chemo ward, “Thank you for walking me.”

“It’s no problem.” He smiles, “I hope this doesn’t sound too weird, but can I get your number?”

“Uh. . . yeah.”

“Great.” He beams, “At least now I won’t have to hope you show up at the café.”

You swear you felt your heart burst.

During your shift a couple of weeks later, you don’t notice your phone light up a message. You actually don’t notice at all until you arrived home that night. You had already checked on your Grandma, who was sound asleep in bed, and that’s when you allowed yourself to drop down upon the sofa with a sigh.

Seeing an unknown number pop up on your screen at first had confused you, but once you had looked further into it, your palms started sweating.

Hi YN. It’s Harry. I know it’s been a while but I’ve been trying to figure out what to say. I hope you and your Grandma are well.

Your heart starts to beat faster. The message you had awaited for weeks was here and you had no idea how to act, never mind what too reply back with. The only thing that spiralled around within your mind was that he had been thinking about you.

In your head, you imagined him pacing around in his large house trying to figure out what to send you, just like they do in the movies. You at least hoped that was what he had been doing over the past couple of weeks.

Hi Harry! It’s lovely to hear from you, sorry it’s late. I’m okay, Grandma’s getting there. How are you?

You throw your phone down on the sofa next to you, trying not to giggle like you did as a schoolgirl whenever you were messaging boys. You nearly cried whenever you phone ran out of credit and you’d end up having to run to the store to get a top up in the morning with your spending money and explaining to them what had happened. You were thankful that your upgrade didn’t need that.

I’m okay. Glad to hear about your Grandma. I know this is probably really weird and totally out of the blue, but are you free this weekend? I’m leaving next week for a little while and I really want to see you before I do.

In your head, you ignore the end of the message about him leaving and focus on the fact that he wants to see you. Harry Styles wants to see you. You hoped it was a date, everything pointed it to be a date but you didn’t want get too ahead of yourself.

You haven’t had a boyfriend since your first year of Sixth Form, and the first date you were going on since then was going to be with Harry Styles of all people.

If you pull some strings, work an extra long shift on Saturday and please some of Elliot’s special clients — you may be able to get Friday night off. It was a maybe, but over the next two days you could make it a yes. You hoped that you could make it a yes.

You’ve never, in your six years of working at the club, missed any of your shifts for anything other than your Grandma suddenly falling ill, and those were on rare occasions. You certainly deserved this day off.

I’ll have to check with my boss but I think I could do Friday night? If that’s not a problem for you.

You have to bite your lip to stop yourself from internally freaking out.

Sounds perfect. How about I pick you up at 8?

You wince. It wasn’t as though your were embarrassed of where you lived because you weren’t. You’ve worked hard to be able to pay for the flat and everything in it but there was something about showing it to someone who you’ve only just met and had no intention of explaining your situation to wasn’t on the top of your priority list.

Is there any chance I could meet you somewhere?

Of course. Where do you fancy eating? Italian? Thai?

Italian sounds good.

Great. I’ll send you details over.

Thank you :)

See you then, YN. Sweet dreams.

Night, Harry.

You slept well that night.

“I just don’t think I can spare you Friday.” Elliot sighs, “I’m sorry YN.”

You have to stop yourself from wanting to cry. You don’t use up all your holiday days, and you work way more than you should or that you’re paid for but you don’t complain and you just get on with it. The one time you ask for a shift off, his stubborn ass says that he cant do it.

“Please, Elliot.” You sign, tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear, “I just need this day off.”

“And I need my best girl on the floor. Need the best of the best.”

“There are plenty of other better girls than me working here.”

He shakes his head, “You’re the favourite, YN. Need you to be there.”

“Elliot.” You sigh, leaning forward in the uncomfortable seat you were sat in, “I’ve worked for you for six years and I’ve never asked for a day off like this before.”

“Yeah but—”

“—and! I’ve never asked for a day off apart from going to the hospital and you know that.”

“I couldn’t exactly say no to you—”

“I’ve worked every shift you’ve ever asked me to, covered for people when you need it.”

“Stop it!” He holds his hand up to silence you, “Just shut up for a second.”

You clamp your lips shut. If you didn’t need to stay on his good side to get Friday off you probably would’ve said something about how rude he was being. He’d always been rude, but he paid you and the rest of the girls so you all chose to ignore it.

He ponders, and you know the cogs are turning within his brain as he scrolls through his laptop, typing a few things. He takes his glasses off his face and drops them dramatically down on the table in front of him.

“Ruby will cover your shift.”

You let out a sigh of relief, “Thank you!”

“Don’t be thanking me too quickly.” He points his finger, “I need a favour from you.”

“Anything. Well not anything.”

“In a few weeks times there’s a big birthday party coming in.” He explains, “I need you to be the star of the show, do private dances and all the good things like that.”

“Just that?” You ask, knowing that it could be a trap knowing Elliot’s track record.

He nods, “Just that.”

You look at him sceptically, “What’s the catch?”

“No catch.” He holds his hands up, “A few big names are coming, that’s all. A list celebs that have asked to use the back exit.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

“Let me know the date and I’ll do it.”

You stand up, happy that you’ve managed to get your shift tomorrow off and that you can go on the date you have been excited for since you met Harry and was introduced to the world with him in it.

“Have fun at your thing Friday.”

“Thank you. . .?”

You don’t think you like Elliot being nice to you.

Friday night rolled around quickly and you were thankful for that. After helping your Grandma with her own dinner and into bed, you start getting ready. You curl your hair, brushing it out until its in what looks like effortless waves but are actually quite hard waves to achieve. You do natural makeup, something completely different to makeup you usually wear in one of your shifts. You try to keep all of your features soft, different to how you usually look on a day to day basis. You dress in a long white polka-dotted maxi skirt, paired with a thin long-sleeved jumper that would keep you warm due to the ever changing British weather.

You had done a little bit of research on the restaurant Harry had sent you the address for and learnt that it wasn’t the most expensive restaurant ever, but one that was way out of your price range. It meant that you had to dip into the fund that you keep for occasions where you need a little extra money or you will use in the future when you eventually move out and busy your own place.

The tube was crammed, seeing as though it was a Friday night and the majority of people were either coming home from work and stating to go out for end of the week drinks. You knew that the club would start to become heaving as the night grew and a part of you was thankful that you didn’t have to work today, and you were given a small break from the hell that is working at a strip club.

The restaurant, when you arrived, definitely looked fancier than it had online. The bar stood against the corner wall, the right hand side of the restaurant had booths covering the walls whilst stand alone tables scattered around the rest of the room.

You were surprised when you saw Harry, already sat at the booth in the far right corner. He lifted his hand up in an awkward sort of wave and you couldn’t help but beam at him. He had a shirt, an expensive looking white shirt with a yellow and blue jumper over the top. You hand felt so excited to see someone since when your Grandma went into hospital for her tumour being removed and you couldn’t see her for a few days.

“YN.” He sighs, “Hi.”

“Hi.” You smile, slipping into the booth across from him.

“Was starting to think you wasn’t going to show up.”

“I’m sorry.” You tuck your hair behind your ear, “I underestimated how bust the tube was going to be.”

You can tell he wants to pry but instead he says, “It’s okay.”

His nails were painted yellow, a few of them painted lilac as well. There was something so simple about his nails that you just loved, and if it wasn’t weird you probably would’ve stared at them for way too long for it to be acceptable. You knew he had tattoos, and you could see the cross on his hand and the the anchor peaking out from underneath his shirt and you wanted to see more.

“I like your nails.” You smile, running your own fingers over your own nails underneath the table.

“Thanks.” A blush creeps up his neck, “I did them last night. Sort of calmed me down, I was quite nervous.”

“Nervous for what?”

“This.” He nods, “I haven’t been as nervous for a date in a long time.”

“You don’t have to be nervous.”

In your twenty four years of living, you’ve never had someone say that they were nervous to see you. You’ve been nervous to see and do many things in your life and you hoped that somewhere along the line it would’ve been the same for somebody else and yourself but you had the slight suspicion that wasn’t the case. Hearing those words out loud, coming from someone who you’d never expect it too was special, and you were going to keep that for as long as you physically could.

“I did.” He looks down at the table briefly, “I’ve never liked a girl as much as I like you before.”

“You don’t really know me.”

“I’d like to get to know you.”

That’s what you do. For the rest of the date you don’t stop talking. Even though you’re starving and could eat your fist, it takes you the longest you’ve ever taken to eat your food because of how much you spend it talking.

You’re just about to dig in to your desert when your body physically halts, “Why didn’t you want me to pick you up?”

“I, uh, I—”

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t what to! I know I can be pretty invasive sometimes.”

“No, it’s fine!” You take a sip of your drink to swallow down the dryness within your throat, “I don’t live in the nicest building, or in the nicest area and I guess I was embarrassed.”

“You don’t have to be embarrassed.”

“But I was.” You drop your eyes to the plate in front of you, “I know I shouldn’t have been and that it was stupid but I just didn’t want you judge me before you truly knew me because of where I live.”

“I hope you know now that I wouldn’t have done that.”

“I do.”

You let Harry drive you home. Even though you would never admit it to his face just yet, you really liked him. He was kind, sweet and funny and everything you could ever want in your person. You haven’t said this in a long time but you love the person you are around him and you wouldn’t change it for the world if you didn’t have to.

He stops in the car park outside the building of flats you live in and you can tell he’s thinking deeply about something but you try to not concentrate on that too much.

“I would invite you up.” You laugh, “But I don’t think the sofa in the middle of my Grandma’s flat whilst she snores in the next room is the most romantic.”

He scrunches up his nose, “I can’t say that it is.”

“I’m sorry.” You drop your head to look at your hands that are tested on your knees, “I really wish I could offer you something. Anything.”

“It’s okay, YN.” He uses his finger to move your head up so that you’re looking at him, “I don’t expect anything from you. I hope you know that.”

“I know.”

He hesitates for a moment, and you can feel the finger that was rested upon your chin move upwards so that its upon your cheek. You flicker your eyes closed and just mask in the feeling of his touch against your cheek.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks.

You eyes open as you nod your head, letting out a shaky breath at the sheer surprise you feel at his words.

“Want your words, darling.”

“Please kiss me.”

You close your eyes again and you feel his lips touch yours. It's light at first, but you can’t contain yourself and you end up pushing closer to him, relishing in the feeling of his lips upon yours. Your fingertips grip the collar of his shirt, trying to pull him closer without hurting himself too much on the centre console. Even though you both don’t want to, you pull away as you start to loose breath.

“You okay?” Your chest heaves up and down as he speaks.

“Never been better.” You sigh, resting your forehead against his.

“Good.”

You kiss again, this time its more passionate and you can’t help but let out a small whine as he pulls away. The smug look on his face after hearing that sound was enough to send your stomach doing flips.

You really didn’t want to do this, but you had too: “I have to go.”

“It’s okay.” He smiles, “I understand.”

“Okay.” You reach for the door handle.

“I have to go away for a bit.” He sighs, “I’m writing some music over in America but when I get back, do you want to maybe go on another date?”

“I’d love to.”

He presses one last kiss to your lips and you leave the car, muttering a small, “Bye.”

You feel giddy. As though you’re sixteen again and just come back from your first date with your first boyfriend. It was something you hadn’t felt in a long time and in all honesty, you had no idea how to handle those feelings. You certainly wouldn’t admit that you screamed quietly into your pillow in excitement that night.

You couldn’t wait for him to return home.

Two weeks. Harry was away for two weeks and even though you had only kissed him once, twice if you actually count how many kisses there were, you missed him more than words could explain. You weren’t one to usually message first, so you did end up waiting until Harry had a spare moment to message you which wasn’t as often as you would’ve liked but you couldn’t complain.

You almost felt as though you had been drip fed this new life with Harry in, only to have it taken away quicker than you could blink. It wasn’t forever, and that was probably the thing keeping you sane. This had all happened in such a short amount of time but you wouldn’t change it for the world.

The only thing that limited how far you could take this was your job.

Harry had obviously been curious and during a text conversation in the first week of his week being away — he asked what you did. After having a small freak out you decided to say that you worked in a bar. It was a small, white lie and you hated yourself for it but telling him that you were a stripper just didn’t feel like the best thing to do at that time.

You just weren’t ready to tell him, and that was totally okay.

Speaking of your work, tonight was the night of the big party that Elliot made sure you could come to. The club had held celebrity parties before, so you weren’t entirely nervous but every time someone mentioned it you could feel your heart speeding up slightly.

“Emerald.” You turn to look at Elliot who’s trudging towards you, a bag in hand, “Here’s your new outfit for tonight.”

“New? I thought I’d just wear the one for special occasions.”

“This is a special, special occasion Emerald.” He dropped the bag down in front of you, “Wear this.”

Taking the material out of the bag, your mouth dropped open at the sight of the emerald green lingerie in your hands. It was delicate lace that you feared you’d rip if you weren’t too careful. Putting it on, your breasts slightly spilled over the lace, and whilst your front was covered, the thong back of the lingerie left your ass on full display. It was beautiful, you couldn’t dismiss that but you just hadn’t ever worn something so skimpy before. You pulled your black silk robe over your shoulders, fastened your black heels onto your feet and made your way towards the side of the stage.

The skimpiness of the new lingerie did send more butterflies to the pit of your stomach than you were originally hoping for but it was only another hurdle for you to get over which you knew you’d be able to do.

You heard the music start to play, you slipped your hand through the gap in the curtain and opened it, revealing yourself to the room.

Here goes nothing, you mumble to yourself.

Harry’s jaw dropped at the sight of you on the stage. It certainly wasn’t his usual scene, a strip club, but it was a friend of a friends birthday and he had kindly been invited and he wasn’t about to turn it down. He wasn’t in the band anymore, and certainly didn’t have to hide that he went to places like this anymore, even though they weren’t his favourite.

He couldn’t bare his eyes off of you. The way your body moved to the rhythm of the song, your darkly manicured nails pushed the robe of your shoulders, exposing the delicate lingerie you were wearing. Harry would be lying if he said that his cock didn’t start to stir at the sight.

You. The girl who he thought spent her days reading, and looking after Grandma had a secret persona that he only wanted to explore more.

“My word.” One of the men in the group spoke, loudly so that everyone could hear him, “She’s fit as fuck.”

“To get my hands on her.”

Harry clenches his jaw, and his fist that rested on the arm of his chair. If he wasn’t in a very public place where people could record him, he’d give that man a piece of his mind. He probably would but he’d do it when nobody was around so the man could truly understand what he was saying to him.

“Do you think I could get a dance with her?” The birthday boy asked.

“It’s your birthday.” The dickhead with no morals spoke, “She might give you something special as a present.”

“The rules say no touching.” The words slip out of Harry’s mouth before he can stop them, “So I highly doubt that.”

“I’m sure you’d be saying something different if you were in his position, Styles.”

Harry rolled his eyes and focused his attention back on the stage, watching as you seductively bent down to pick up some of the tips that had been thrown on the bottom of the stage. The song was slowly finishing and Harry couldn’t help but feel a little bit of disappointment bubbling within him.

Harry watched your lean legs as you strutted towards the side of the stage, flicking the long wig on your head over your shoulder, seductively running your tongue over your bottom lip as you pulled the material of the lingerie down from your breasts.

Harry bit his lip, his leg bounced, he ran his hand up and down his thigh. He tried to do everything in his power to distract himself from the rousing within his trousers but he just couldn’t do it. The flimsy material dropped to the floor, your red painted lips curled up into a smirk and you made your way behind the curtain, not showing any of your truly bare skin.

If you hadn’t been imprinted on his brain before, you certainly were now.

You could hear the grunts and groans of happiness, and a few cheers whilst on stage but the lights were so bright that you couldn’t see anything past the first row or so. The tips you had received were good, and you were pleased about that.

You received your robe and bra back from the stage and pulled them back onto your body. Your solo dance was always a hit for Elliot, and you supposed that was why he’s kept you on for so long and if you were honest, they were the easiest to do. Private dances always made you too uncomfortable, and in the six years you’ve worked there there had only been a handful of people that made you feel comfortable when it came to private dances.

“Emerald.” Elliot walks in smiling and you assume everything is swell on the floor, “They fucking love you.”

You nod your head, muttering a small and awkward, “Thank you.”

He hums, “You’ve been requested for a private dance, and he’s promised to pay you accordingly.”

“Really?”

Another hum, “Room Two. I think he’s already there.”

“Thanks.”

He leaves the room, a bounce in his step. You suppose that this is a good thing and he’ll finally get off your back for the time you took off for the date with Harry. You at least hoped.

You checked yourself. You made sure your makeup still looked flawless, your breasts sat perfectly within the material and your arse looked good. You brush through the wig once and make your way towards room two, the smaller of the three private dance rooms which helped it be more intimate.

You smiled at the bouncer at the door, Gerry, a man who looked as though he could kill someone with a single punch but was actually a massive teddy bear. He was good at his job of keeping everyone safe and making sure that the bad eggs that came in left just as quickly.

Watching the door slowly open, Harry felt his heart stop. He had been pacing up and down the room ever since he had walked in, and only just stopped when he heard the creek of the door. He couldn’t believe that you were in front of him, and you certainly couldn’t believe that he was in front of you either.

“YN. . .” He sounded breathless.

“Harry?” He could see your chest rising and falling at a quick pace, “What? How? I thought you were in America.”

He scratches the back of his neck sheepishly, “I got back last night.”

“Why are you here?” He can hear the lump in your throat as you speak, your eyes glossing over.

“A Birthday party.”

“Yours?”

“No!” He’s quick to interrupt, “A friend of a friend. It’s not mine. Mine’s in February, and I certainly don’t think I’ll be having my party here. Not that there’s anything wrong with here! It’s lovely! You’re lovely! I’m rambling.”

He was so gosh darn cute and if you weren’t in the middle of a break down, you probably would’ve laughed or at least reacted to his little word vomit. It was probably the quickest you’d ever heard him talk, not that it was hard.

After a few minutes of contemplating what to say, you sigh, “I’m sorry.”

His voice is soft, his features falling, “What are you sorry for?”

“Lying to you.” You drop your gaze to the floor, trying to suppress the tears, “I didn’t want to.”

“Hey, hey.” He walks over to you, placing his finger underneath your chin just like he had done in the car weeks ago, “No need to get upset, I’m not.”

“You should be.” You bottom lip quivers, “I lied to you and I had no intention to retract that just yet.”

“YN.” He rests his palms on your cheeks, “I’m not angry. I’m not upset. I just want to know why.”

“I was scared.” You admit, trying to do anything but look up at him, “I didn’t know what you’d think or if you’d change your mind.”

“Change my mind about what?”

“Wanting too, you know. . .?”

He shakes his head, “I wouldn’t. There’s no reason for me to.”

“I’m a stripper Harry, it gives you full reason to not want to be associated with me.” You lift your hand to wipe your under-eye.

“I’m not judging you, YN, I said I wouldn’t.”

“I wouldn’t be upset if you did.”

“YN.” His voice is stern, more so than it had been, “I don’t care that you’re a stripper.”

“You don’t.”

“No.” He smiles, “I don’t.”

“Fuck.” You let out a breath of relief, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

“I don’t mind.” He shrugs, “If you didn’t want to, you didn’t have to.”

You had never met someone like him, and no matter how many times he surprised you that was just fact. Granted, you hadn’t had time to date anyone with looking after your Grandma but another reason you didn’t was because of what they would think of you.

You knew that not everyone would be was understanding and lovely as Harry had been, and that was just because of the lovely person he was inside and out. That was the reason you didn’t tell him, because even though you had an inclination that he was accepting but you didn’t know whether that was just a façade or he was like that in real life. You loved that he was like that in real life.

“Can I be honest?” You nod, “I enjoyed it.”

You bite your lip to suppress the smile that threatened to cross your lips, “You did?”

He hums, beaming a smile at you.

“If you wouldn’t mind.” The corner of his lips tugs upwards, “I’d still love to get that private dance.”

You roll your eyes and thwack his shoulder playfully, “If you must.”

“I’ll wait for you.” He nods, “Until your shift is over, if you want.”

“Please.”

“I’ll see you then.”

You hadn’t even made it completely into Harry’s house before his lips were on yours. He pushed you up against his front door before he’d even shut it properly, his lips falling upon yours with a hunger you hadn’t felt since you last kissed him.

Maybe it was his hands rested upon the small of your back, your fingers threading through the curls at the nape of his neck.

“Can I offer you a drink?” He smirks against your lips.

“Not the priority.” You reply, not bringing your lips away from his.

“Noted.” He places a kiss to your jaw, “Upstairs?”

“Upstairs.”

You follow him up the stairs, your hand rested firmly in his. You’re too distracted by the man in front of you to take any notice of the house or where you were going.

Harry had kept true to his word and waited for you. You secretly wished that you could have recorded the group’s reaction as you walked towards him, a small smile on your face. After bidding them goodbye, the two of you jumped in a taxi that Harry had ordered and made your way to his house, or what you expected to be his house and you weren’t disappointed.

The second you step into the plushly decorated room, you’re kissing again. His hands slide down to rest upon curve of your ass, his ring-clad fingers immediately squeezing the flesh. You groan lightly into his mouth, allowing his tongue to slip through her parted lips. You grip his bicep as he leads your backwards into the room, your calves hitting the bed as he does so.

Your lips part, you fall back onto the bed. You look up at him through your eyelashes, your fingertips reaching to pull the shirt he was wearing over his head. You almost swoon there and then at the sight of the tattoos littering his skin. You lean forward and place a kiss on his lower stomach, just before his happy trail that slips into the band of his trousers.

You bite your lip, grinning up at him.

“What are you planning?”

“I don’t know.” You shrug, “What do you want me to be planning?”

He groans, “Anything at this point.”

You reach forward, taking the button of his trousers in your fingers. You look up, “Is this okay?”

“More than okay, baby.”

You unbutton his trousers, wrapping your finger in the waistband and pulling them down. You can already see the tent in his boxers. You wondered how long he had been like this, you wondered if it had been since your dances.

You blush slightly as you hook your fingers now into the waistband of his boxers, looking up at him. You can’t handle the look on his face, the slight blush but the boyish grin mixed with his curls that had fallen forward upon his forehead. You pull the fabric down, exposing his hard cock. You watch as it hits his stomach briefly, the tip swollen. You lift your hand up, wrapping it around him before giving him a few pumps. His stomach quivers as you do so, a groan escaping him as you wrap your lips around his tip. His eyes flutter closed as you start to bob your head, his fingers reaching forward to grab your hair into a ponytail.

“Fuck baby.” His hips involuntarily buck forward. You sink further down, going as far as you could.

Harry couldn’t believe how good he felt. It had been a while since he had been with someone, and it was worth the wait. You pulled away too soon in his opinion, but the sight of you, all teary eyed and sloppy sent his mind spiralling.

“God.” He bent down and wrapped his arms around your thighs, lifting you up so he could move you further up the bed, “You’re fucking killing me here.”

“Good.” You giggle.

He’s quick to remove your shirt, allowing you to pull your jeans down at the same time. He didn’t expect you to still be in the lingerie from earlier, and if it was physically possible, he swore his cock hardened even more.

“Fuck me.”

He leans forward, pressing his lips to yours again as his fingers fumble with the latch of your bra. You bite your bottom lip as he wraps his around your nipple, flicking it with his tongue. He uses his hand to knead the other one. You can’t help but grind your hips forwards, a feeling bubbling deep in the pit of your stomach that you hadn’t felt in a long time.

“Harry.” You moan, withering under his touch.

He kisses down from your lips, to your jaw, down your neck until he’s littering them all the way to the band of your underwear.

“Is this okay?”

“More than okay.” You whine as he lets out a breath upon the thin material.

He pulls your underwear down, teasing you by placing kisses across your thighs and pubic bone. He’s so close, yet so far from the place that you need him the most. He licks a stripe across your centre, until he wraps his lips around your clit. You can’t help the moans that escape your parted lips as he nibbles and flicks your sensitive nub, her thighs starting to shake as he coaxes her closer and closer to her orgasm.

“Don’t stop.” You thread your fingers through his hair, “God! Harry.”

He pulls away, and you let out a shaky breath as he does so.

“No fair.” You whine.

“Life isn’t.”

“Just shut up and get a condom.” He does as you request, placing a small peck to your lips as he reached over to grab a condom from the drawer beside the bed.

You watch as he rips the packet open with his teeth, pulling the rubber down his length. He presses another kiss to your lips, catching her eyesight once more.

“Are you sure?”

“More than okay.”

He hovers over you, rubbing his tip up and down your wet folds to coax a moan out of your lips. He groans into your shoulder as he pushes in, biting down briefly to suppress the sound.

“Don’t.” You moan, scratching your nails down his back as he starts to thrust in and out of you, “Let me hear you.”

“Fuck.” You squeeze him slightly, “Do that again.”

He speeds up, catching your lips as your hips meeting quicker, the only sound in the room being your skin slapping each others. You slip one of your hands between the two of you, your nimble fingers rubbing your clit.

“Where have you been all my life?” You can’t help the pleasurable giggle that escapes your lips.

“Feel so good, H.”

After a few more thrusts, a couple more circles of her clit and she’s comes around his cock, squeezing him tightly as she did so.

“Fuck, shit, oh god.”

He continues to thrust in and out of you, coaxing you through your orgasm and towards his. He seems to go deeper and deeper until he’s spilling inside the condom, his moans louder than any you had heard before.

“God.” He collapses on top of you, taking a few seconds to collect himself and let you collect yourself, “Haven’t felt like that in a long time.”

“Glad I could be of some assistance.” You push the hair that had matted to your face off.

“You should keep secrets from me more often.’

“I’m never doing that again.”

“Good.” He pecks your lips.

#harry styles #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x reader #harry styles x yn #harry styles x you #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles smut fic

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jean-kayak · 3 years

Text

Chapter 14

Summary: A relaxing summer at home after your second year of college sounds nice, until someone comes back and makes it anything but

Pairing: Eren Jaeger x black!fem!reader

Warnings: really this chapter is just fluff, underage drinking (reader is 20), Eren being a huge SIMP and SAP, reader gets a little tipsy, suggestive like once bc its Eren

Word Count: 3408

A/N: This one is not even close to being as long as the next chapter, but yeah, I really went in on the fluff and cuteness on this lmao enjoy

Tags: @iwascrybaby, @germinvasion, @styxtm, @prxttyguardian, @bigdaddyzawa, @erensblackgirlfriend, @kbbvbz, @tomsadversary, @pettyluxury, @protectpancakes

Chapter Summary: A mini vacation makes Eren come to a stark realization

Playlist for this Chapter:

1. While We're Young- Jhené Aiko

2. Morning Glory- Kehlani

3. Normal Girl-SZA

4. Off The Grid- Alina Baraz ft. Khalid

You raise your eyebrows when he tells you that you need a pack a bag, and you frown at him in suspicion, but he doesn't even blink at you as he goes back to whatever he was doing.

Your parents weren't home at the time you were leaving, so you just told them that you were hanging with Ymir for a couple of days, Jean wasn't going to be home, and you were going to be back before him, so you figured you didn't need to tell him anything.

So Eren decides to leave late at night on Friday, and ten minutes later he texts you that he's outside, and then he's driving down the street and to who knows where. You yawn widely, tears forming in your eyes, and you wipe them away as you notice that you've been driving for more than thirty minutes.

"You taking me somewhere in the country or something?" you ask, seeing that you don't recognize your surroundings anymore.

He chuckles as he reaches over to grab your hand, lacing his fingers with yours. "I told you. It's a surprise, it's about a couple hours away."

You roll your eyes when he tells you it's a surprise but nod anyway even though that still doesn't tell you exactly where you're going, and he huffs when you say you're going to go to sleep for the rest of the ride, and as you doze off, you feel his lips on your hand.

You feel something shaking your shoulder, and you breathe in deeply as you peel your eyes open, looking around to see you're in a parking lot. "Where are we?" you ask with a yawn, looking ahead of you to see a big building about two stories tall.

"Furniture store." You frown, turning your head to look at him.

"A furniture store? Why?"

"Wanted to change up my apartment," he answers, getting out the car and you follow.

"And why did I have to come?" you ask, meeting him on his side of the truck as he locks it.

"To get you some practice, since you wanna do interior design. You can use my apartment as a project or something." You feel your face heating at the thought, and you mask it with a scrunch of your nose.

"You're a dork." He smirks softly as he wraps his arm around you, walking you towards the building.

"Only for you."

The automatic doors slide open, and the place is pretty huge, but not big enough where you feel like you might be lost, and you let him lead you whichever way. "Okay, so what do you start with?" he asks you, stopping at the living room section, and you shrug.

"Colors, I guess," you admit, looking at the different couches. "What's your favorite color?" you ask, absentmindedly running your hand over the back of an armchair.

"Any color that you look good in." You roll your eyes as you scoff, turning to look at him.

"Which is?"

"Everything." You chuckle as you push at his chest lightly, almost thinking it's a lost cause until he speaks up again. "I don't know. Dark green, maybe?"

You nod as you look at the different furniture. "Okay, that's a start. And sometimes, I look at how big you want something to be depending on what you want to use it for. So, for example, how big would you want your couch to be?"

"Big enough for us to have sex on." You drop your head as you scoff, having trouble fighting the smile off your face.

"You're insufferable." You're pretty sure Eren makes you walk through the entire store, looking at stuff that you know he doesn't even own, and you notice that he keeps asking you if you like certain things or not.

"Why does it matter if I like it or not? It's your apartment," you add, and he busies himself with pulling the drawers open on a desk while he keeps his other arm wrapped around your waist. He mumbles something that you don't catch, but you don't get to ask because he's pulling you somewhere else.

You're almost out of the place when your eyes land on the prettiest coffee table you've ever seen. You gasp in surprise, stopping in your tracks and walking towards it, pulling Eren with you.

It's a deep mahogany, glass on top, and there's storage for smaller things like magazines or coasters, and it's just right height, you never understood the appeal of coffee tables that are nearly touching the ground. "You like it?" Eren asks you, jumping you out of your trance.

"I love it," you breathe, running your hand over it softly. "But there's literally nowhere for me to put it," you joke, giving it one last look before you start to walk away, and you stop when you realize Eren's not following. "Are we leaving?" you ask, pointing towards the door, thinking that maybe he wanted to look at something else.

But then he's waving you off, walking towards you. "Yeah, let's go."

"You know we just passed the college Jean goes to, right?" you say, your eyebrows raised, and Eren just shrugs as he keeps his attention on the road.

"Yeah, so?"

"So? What if he sees us? He said he had something to do for school," you stress, starting to feel yourself panic a little.

"Don't worry. Seriously, he's not going to find out." He sounds confident, so it calms you a little bit, but that panic is still underlying. He grabs your hand, giving it a soft squeeze. "I'm being serious. I already checked beforehand, we're fine."

You nod this time, his words reassuring you as you start to notice the light poles on the street you're driving down are covered in decorations. The further he drives down the road, the more decorations seem to be lining the buildings. "Is there some kind of festival?" you ask, looking around.

Eren shrugs as he pulls the truck into a parking spot on the street. "Let's find out," he says, and you're once again following him out, and when you get out, you can hear music playing. You follow the sound of the music, and you reach what must be the main area because there's suddenly food trucks lining the streets, a bunch of activities to do, and a crowd of people dancing.

They've cut off the whole street for the occasion, and you smile widely as you look around. "I think this is some festival for the town or something," Eren says, remembering hearing something about it before he went back home, and you bounce on your feet excitedly.

"Well, we can't just stand here!" You grab his hand, almost pulling him off his feet as you run towards the thicker part of the crowd. He laces his fingers with yours as you both walk through to look at the different venues and the different food they have.

He nearly buys everything that your eyes linger on for too long, and you firmly tell him to not buy you anything else, to which he just responds with a roll of his eyes, both of you knowing that he's still going to do it.

He watches you fondly when you get excited about the face painted, but he denies it when you say that he should get one. "Oh, come on, you have to get one," you urge, feeling the paint on your face starting to harden.

The person who did yours tells you that you could paint on Eren's face and that only makes you more excited. You force him to sit down on the bench as you look through the options, grabbing his wrist when he tries to sneak away.

"Just pick one, please?" you say, and he gives you a warm look as he smiles softly.

"Fine." He gives in, and you grab the brush excitedly. "Anything yellow," he responds when you ask him what he wants.

"Why yellow? Because I look good in it?" you tease, picking out something that's easy for you to draw.

"It's the color you picked on the fortune teller." You freeze, looking up at him, before smiling softly as you dip the paintbrush in the paint.

"You remember that?" you ask shyly, and he would nod, but you're already starting to paint on his face.

"Of course I do. It's the first time I talked to you." He huffs softly when he sees you shy away again before you focus on the flower you're drawing. He chuckles softly as he watches you stick your tongue out in concentration, and you pull away with a frown.

"Why are you laughing at me?" you ask, grabbing his chin to angle his cheek closer towards you.

He moves before you can turn his face, pecking a kiss on your nose. "Because you look cute." You shake your head, feeling your face flush warm before grabbing his chin again and moving his head where you want it.

"Okay," you sigh when you finish, putting the brush down, and you hold the mirror up for him to see what it looks like, and you put your head on the side of it. "Do you like it?" you ask impatiently, and he nods as he stands, pulling you up with him.

"Yeah, it looks good for someone with no art skills," he jokes, making you roll your eyes but you laugh anyway, and you both walk away as he takes out his phone.

You peek over his shoulder, not realizing he opened the camera app, and he plants his lips on your cheek that doesn't have paint on it, snapping the picture, and he locks his phone before you can see it. You're trying to convince him to let you see it, both of you walking closer to the music, and suddenly you're being pulled into the dancing crowd.

Both of your eyes widen in surprise, but then you notice a kid grabbing your hands, and you laugh instantly as you start dancing, blending into the crowd, but to Eren, you're the only one he sees.

And huh.

Is that what this feels like? He's always seen it in movies, read it in books, but he's never experienced it like this, the feeling so strong. He unlocks his phone, his heart skipping a beat when he looks over the picture, the biggest grin on his face before he looks back up at you.

You look like you're having the time of your life, and he realizes that he's fallen so far, so fast in so little time. He feels like he's living in some kind of movie, and he always thought it was unrealistic to feel this way about you in a short amount of time, but the longer he looks at you, the more he believes that it's more than possible.

And he looks back down at his phone, making the picture his lock screen.

"Let me have some more," you whisper, and Eren rolls his eyes as he scoffs, checking to make sure the coast is clear before handing you his glass.

"Woah, woah," he says when you take a huge sip of wine, taking the glass out of your hand. "Ease up will you," he chastises, setting the glass on the stool next to the both of you.

"I have to get as much as I can before they see me," you respond, having trouble hiding your giggles as the alcohol fills your system.

The festival had started to die down, and he saw a sign for wine and art. He knew they weren't going to let you have any, but he was having a hard time denying you, and now he scoffs at your tipsy state. "We're supposed to be painting," he responds, grabbing the paintbrush.

"Well, what are we drawing?" you say, your words slurring just a bit, and he shrugs as he wraps his arm tighter around you.

"Whatever you want," he says, adjusting the both of you on the stool you're sitting on. He was surprised the both of you could fit on it, but he only took that as an excuse to hold you. "How about four flowers?"

Your eyebrows crease before you turn to look at you. "Why four?" He smiles at you, and you feel like you should know the answer, but you can't think of it. "The fortune teller?" you try, and he nods, making you roll your eyes.

"Why are you such a sap?" you reply playfully, and he laughs softly before putting the brush in your hand, then putting his hand on top of yours. He guides your hand over the canvas as you start painting. "How'd you know that these are my favorite?"

"Lucky guess." It's the flowers you had in your hair at the wedding.

You frown at him again, but go back to painting anyway, the strokes not as clean due to a variety of reasons, but the outline comes out good, and he helps you color them in.

He lets you have one last sip before he tells you that you're not getting anymore, and you frown but listen anyway. "Why aren't you drinking?"

"Because I'm driving," he replies lamely, and you nod softly as your mouth falls open.

"Oh. You're so responsible."

He rolls his eyes. "Thanks," he says dryly.

You both finish your painting around the same time everyone else does, or rather people are starting to get less incoherent, so they can't focus on painting, and Eren takes the canvas, leading you out of the gallery with an arm around your waist.

"I'm so full and tired," you whine, your steps a little wobbly, and he chuckles as he carefully puts the canvas in the backseat before helping you in.

He starts driving away and about ten minutes in, he realizes you're really quiet, so he assumes you've fallen asleep, but then you gasp, making him jump out of his skin and almost swerve off the road.

"What the fuck--"

"A drive-in movie, we have to go!" you yell, probably a little bit more loudly than you needed, pointing out the window, and he looks to see an empty lot with cars and a giant movie screen.

He finds himself already slowing down and turning into the lot without even thinking about it, backing in so that you can watch the movie from the bed of the truck. He gets out first, letting the tail down so that he can set up some of the blankets he still has in his truck before helping you up, your steps shaky as you get in.

He lays down first, and you follow, and he chuckles as you instantly grab a blanket, wrapping yourself up before you lay on him. "Don't fall asleep, this was your idea," he speaks up when he hears you go quiet again, and you shift slightly.

"M not sleep. I'm just tired," you mumble, making him huff fondly.

The movie that's playing is something he's never seen before, and he's actually pretty focused on it when he feels you moving, and he just assumes that you're trying to get comfortable.

"Eren," he hears you whisper, and he hums to show that he heard you, keeping his focus on the movie.

"What, baby?" he says when you say his name again, and he tears his eyes from the screen to look down at you.

"I want a kiss," you say softly, and he half rolls his eyes before leaning down anyway. "One more." He sighs fondly before leaning down again, cupping your face in his hand, and he pulls away when you try and deepen the kiss.

"You're drunk, baby," he tells you, and you frown as you shake your head.

"No, I'm not," you argue, and he raises his eyebrows at you.

"Intoxicated," he tries, and you purse your lips as you think.

"Maybe." He huffs again before kissing you on the forehead.

"I'll kiss you again when you're sober." You groan softly in protest, but you don't say anything else as you turn your attention back to the movie.

Eren rolls his eyes when he hears you complain about being tired for the millionth time that night as he guides you into the dark apartment. He leads you to his room, catching you every time you almost fall, and the moment your eyes land on the bed, you're flopping on it face down.

"Hey, you gotta change first," he tells you, dropping your bag on the floor softly, but you groan softly, turning your head so that you can breathe.

"M fine," you argue, and he scoffs as he walks over to you.

"Trust me, you'll want to get changed." You groan as you roll over, unbuttoning your shorts, sliding them down your legs before letting them fall to the floor. You roll back onto your stomach, reaching under your shirt to unhook your bra, maneuvering it out from under you before it joins your shorts on the floor.

"Are you happy now?" you groan, and he rolls his eyes again as he moves back to your bag. You feel the bed dip next to you as he climbs in, but you don't move.

"Can you sit up for me?" he asks, and you sigh, turning your head to look at him. "It'll only take a second."

You sit up slowly as you start to feel a headache coming on, blinking slowly, and you notice that he's putting your bonnet on, and he catches you when you try and lay back down, not letting you go until all of your hair is in it.

"Now you can lay down." He barely gets the words out as your body hits the mattress again, and you get comfortable as you snuggle your face into the pillow, and he notices that you're blinking gets heavier, but you're looking at him.

"What?" he questions softly, running the back of his fingers over your face gently, and you give him a sleepy smile.

"You're really pretty," you mumble, and he huffs in surprise as he feels his face heating up.

"You think I'm pretty?"

You nod as fast as your body can let you, sighing heavily. "You're like...like," you nod again. "Yeah, you're like really pretty." And then you're out like a light.

Your soft snores fill the room, and he finds himself smiling fondly as he watches you sleep, and before he can think, he's slowly getting out of the bed and grabbing his sketchbook. He slides back in the bed, and all of the images from earlier today come flooding into his head and onto the pages.

He doesn't know how long he sits there, filling every last inch of the paper in you, but he can't stop until he's drawn everything. He draws your face when you were concentrating on painting on his face, he draws you attempting to concentrate on the painting even though the wine was making you even more incoherent, and he finds himself smiling for long enough that his face hurts.

When he gets all of those images out of his head, he looks back over at you before starting on the next drawing, chuckling softly at how your face is smushed by the pillow.

And he wonders if it could work between the both of you, but he doesn't know how you feel, and he doesn't want to do anything that will cause you to stop talking to him like you did back then even though he still doesn't know what he did.

But he's scared to ask, and part of him thinks it's the reason for that conflicted look you have in your eyes sometimes, and he wants to ask you what he did so that he can fix it because he doesn't want to hurt you. Not when you mean so much to him.

When he thinks that he's gotten most of the images drawn, and when he's about to run out of room is where he should call it a night, putting the book somewhere you won't be able to find it easily before laying down next to you.

You breathe in deeply, shifting closer to him in your sleep, and he carefully lays you on his chest, and the familiar weight of you puts him to sleep.

|Chapter 13|Masterlist|Chapter 15|

#nothing changed #eren jaeger #eren yaeger #eren jaeger x black reader #eren yaeger x black reader #eren yaeger x reader #eren jaeger x reader #aot fanfiction #snk fanfiction

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zigtheeortega · 4 years

Text

as good as gold

✿ pairing: mal x mc

✿ word count: 2971

✿ tags: @roguemal ; @violinet ; @nickyvalentinos ; @adrixnrxines ; @senatorraines

✿ author’s note: okay so this is honestly the weirdest coincidence... i started working on this fic back in early march, and i abandoned it bc it was originally going to be smut, but i just never got around to finishing the actual smut because i wasn’t feeling it, and i wasn’t that confident in the plot. i totally forgot about it, until i read today’s chapter... and i saw parallels between this fic, that i’d abandoned, and the diamond scene/elite skill scene today with mal.

it made me a lot more confident in this because it made me feel like i genuinely understand mal’s character more than i ever thought? (there are parallels between his list of favorite things, stealth, the sneaking around, etc.) anyways, i wrapped it up and thought i’d post it; thank u andrew for writing one of my favorite characters ever and confirming actions and dialogue i thought he’d do ! andrew stans rise. (hope u enjoy pls lmk if u liked it!)

“Thank Gods they sent us. I’m dying to stretch my legs,” Mal said, tossing the gold coins in the air, the clinking of the metal ringing out against the walls of the abandoned safe house.

They walked towards the entrance, the fresh air hitting them, and their lungs were grateful for the relief. The mildewed stench had been unbearable, but they had to suffer through it. The bounty on their head was enough to turn anyone against them.

Their collective rations weren’t enough to keep them fed. With Tyril being the perpetrator, they agreed it was safe enough for Mal and Zilyana to visit the marketplace, as long as they laid low.

“You’re telling me,” she smiled, inhaling deeply. The scent of the damp, mossy alleyway was incredible in comparison to the moldy smell of their hideout.

She shielded her eyes, squinting at the intense light. They had not seen the sun in days, so the warm blanket was a semblance of hope. She’d rescue Kade soon enough; the warmth on her face proved that all hope wasn’t lost.

They walked in silence, weaving through the alleyways towards the marketplace. Mal stopped abruptly at the end of the alleyway, bracing his forearm against her chest to keep her from going any further.

She caught herself gaping at him as he peeked around the corner a couple of times. His windswept hair framed his face beautifully, curling around his defined jaw, the tips resting neatly against his beard.

He glanced at her from the corner of his eye, a smirk on his face. “Caught you staring.”

She averted her eyes, looking upwards. “Was not.”

“The blush in your cheeks betrays you.”

There was no hiding the violet heat creeping across her face and ears. She’d been drawn to his charismatic nature, his carefree, adventurous attitude one that she envied. He owed nothing to anyone, and he never thought twice about his perception to others.

But underneath the snarky, flirtatious facade, lurked layers of melancholia that she wanted so desperately to uncover.

He cocked his head towards the opening, signaling the coast was clear. “Thought I heard something. We’re safe.”

She scoffed, following closely behind him. “Your definition of safe is ‘not currently being chased’?”

He laughed breathily, and shrugged. “You hit the nail on the head. I’m like a honey trap for trouble.”

The sound of bartering shoppers hit them before the smell of fish and sweat did. “What’s the plan? They might recognize us,” she whispered in his ear, acutely aware of the proximity of their bodies.

She noticed him pocket the gold Tyril had given them for the food. “Mal, what –”

“Just trust me on this, kit. I’ve probably stolen as much food that’s in this marketplace, twice over. I can get us the food and we can keep the loot.” He tried stepping forward, but she grabbed a fistful of the back of his shirt.

“Or we could just stick to the original plan and use the gold for our food and go,” she said, tugging him backward.

“As long as we can have a quick escape route, it’ll be seamless,” he said, turning to meet her eye. “Trust me, Zilyana.”

And she did.

The mischievous look in his eye was enough to send her heart into a tailspin, but his mention of her name was what sealed the deal. It was a rarity that Mal traded in her nickname for her real name, so when he used it, she knew he was being honest for once.

She didn’t know what part of her compelled him to take her under his “wing”. Maybe he was tired of being alone. Maybe he was desperately crying out for someone to get to know the real him. Maybe he’d been calling out for so long, and she was the first to answer.

“I trust you, Mal.”

His eyes softened. She knew he hadn’t heard that in a long time. “Follow my lead.”

At the end of the last alleyway, there was a large fabric trade stand, with various cut and uncut fabrics of different colors and materials, finished garments hung from a clothesline.

He tossed a dagger into the wooden scaffolding holding up the stand, startling the old man at the booth. When he stood to inspect it, Mal snagged two black cloaks.

“These cloaks serve as both a disguise and a red herring. If we’re caught, ditch the cloaks as fast as you can. Then we can walk freely without anyone knowing what we looked like in the first place,” he said, slipping his hood on. “It’ll be a piece of cake.”

“And we’re distracting them and snagging their food? Seems cheap,” she said, putting her hood up, annoyed at her ears poking into the fabric.

“You’re distracting them, and there’s a reason old tricks still work, kit.”

----

Zilyana used her natural seduction to trap a few unsuspecting suckers, and Mal snagged the food, storing it on the roof of a taller building, just high enough to not be spotted from other rooftops if they laid down.

“I’ve never had an apple before,” she purred, stroking the vendor’s arm with the tips of her slender fingers. It was a horrible lie, but it was working.

“Y-you haven’t?” he stammered, clearly flustered.

“I’m not from around here,” she smiled, leaning forward, exposing just enough of her collarbone and the top of her breasts to reel him in.

“I don’t normally do this, but this one is on me,” he smiled timidly, handing her a bright red apple. Little did he know, Mal had been snagging item after item from his stand behind his back.

She took it from him, brushing her fingers across his knuckles. “You’re too kind. I owe you.”

He blushed furiously, looking anywhere but her face. “I wouldn’t mind taking you out to my favorite tavern down the road––”

“Oh, I’m leaving town tomorrow,” she pouted, batting her eyes. “I wish we could’ve spent more time together.”

Mal emerged from the alleyway, watching closely. She didn’t know if he was capable of jealousy, but his nonchalance vanished when the vendor asked her on a date.

“I’m closing up shop soon, if you’re willing to wait for me.” He said, the blush still lingering on his cheeks.

“Balmed is that you? Oh my Gods, it’s been so long!” She exclaimed, looking at Mal, who still watched from the shadows.

The vendor turned quickly, noticing no one was there. He looked back at her, then double-taked, scrutinizing his stand of apples. “Hey…”

She sprinted past him, kicking the back of his knees so he crumpled, but it didn’t stop him from yelling, “Thief!” at the top of his lungs.

Mal grabbed her hand, whisking her down the dark alleyway. The sun had dipped just below the buildings, making the alleys a perfect getaway.

They rounded the corner, ready to discard their cloaks, but they spotted guards barreling towards them from both directions.

“What do we do?” She practically cried, gripping his shoulder.

“There’s two of us, and four of them, kit. You do the math,” he smirked, unsheathing his dagger.

“But that makes it sound like we should run–”

He whipped his arm forward, sending a dagger into the nearest guard’s shoulder before decking the other in the jaw.

Zilyana knew that Mal’s sheer dumb luck was part of the reason he was a notable thief. He somehow managed to survive in every situation, like a rodent.

She drew her sword and slashed the guard in front of her in one fluid sweep, kicking the other in the chest, sending him sprawling.

“That was a little too easy,” she trailed off, her senses sparking. She had no control over her elven senses, but they usually came to her when she needed them most, similar to a fight or flight response.

“I think the guards have us cornered but we haven’t met them yet. I can hear footsteps.”

Mal’s eyebrows rose. “We’re completely surrounded?”

“Yes.”

“Alright.”

“Alright? What are we gonna do?” she asked, hysteria begging to burst through her calm demeanor.

“The rooftop where we stashed the goods isn’t far away. I’d say five buildings or so over. After they pass, we’ll have to jump from roof to roof –”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. I’m not even in the right garments to jump right now,” she shook her head, gesturing to her casual dress.

“You’re just gonna have to flash the entirety of Port Parnassus,” he teased, turning to the wall next to him, covered in mossy vines.

He grabbed onto a vine and started climbing, her on his heels. The footsteps were within Mal’s hearing range by the time he got to the rooftop, so he extended an arm for her to grab.

She gripped his forearm, pushing herself off of the wall. It sent her flying into Mal, the momentum too much for the short distance. They fell over, her landing on top of him, chest to chest, their noses nearly touching.

She could see a snarky quip forming on his lips, but it never came. She watched his smug grin dissolve into admiration, his gaze softening as he glanced back and forth from her eyes to mouth. The lingering rays of sunlight struck their rooftop, hitting Mal’s face, transforming his dark brown eyes into a stunning liquid pool of amber, flecks of gold she’d never noticed before reflecting the light.

He reached up, pressing a gloved hand on her face, gently stroking her jaw. She leaned into the embrace, closing her eyes and sighing just low enough for him to hear.

A low growl rumbled through his chest, the vibrations passing through her own. He watched her, transfixed, through half lidded eyes.

“Have you always been this beautiful, kit? Or have I just been too stupid to notice?” He whispered, tenderly gripping her chin with his thumb and pointer finger.

She smiled, holding back a laugh as they heard the guards clamor down an alley nearby. “I don’t know if I’d say you were stupid…”

With his eyes trained on her lips, she leaned down, closing the distance between them, her parted lips meeting his. He could’ve frozen up – he could’ve pushed her away. Instead, he tangled his gloved hand through her hair, deepening the kiss.

He snaked his arm around her waist, his grip firm and commanding. He tasted sweeter than she could’ve imagined, his scent even more intoxicating up close.

He pulled away, searching her features. She couldn’t tell if he was thinking she’d regretted it that fast, but she was determined to ease his mind. Zilyana recognized the walls he put up; they were familiar because they mirrored her own.

“Anything we do from this point on, I won’t regret. Don’t worry,” she whispered, stroking her thumb across his beard.

He looked at her like he was truly seeing her for the first time. Like he was safe with her. Like he wanted her too.

The guards passed through the alleyway next to them, the clanking of their armor drowning out Mal and Zilyana’s labored breaths.

He pulled her close, tucking her underneath his head, his arms circling her protectively until the guards passed.

They stayed in the same position, embracing, until the sun set, making way for the midnight skyline freckled with glimmering stars.

After the street lanterns were lit, and the residents of Parnassus were tucked into bed, they were momentarily safe enough to discard the cloaks and sneak back to the rooftop where their food was stashed.

Once they were on the rooftop, Mal gestured to her to walk towards the edge of the building. She looked out at the edge of the port city, the vast body of water rippling, the waves flicking calmly against the docks, the water reflecting the moonlight.

“I never get tired of views like these,” he sighed, snatching an apple and taking a bite. “I love gold, but I love a pretty view more.”

She eyed him, brows furrowed. “Alright, I love gold more. But scenery is a close second.”

“Mal the Magnificent is getting candid? Color me surprised,” she grinned, watching his expression match her own.

“What can I say? You’ve grown on me, kit.”

And that was all the validation she needed. She was chipping away at his facade brick-by-brick, and one day his defense would crumble.

She’d be the only one to witness the beautiful destruction.

She crossed the distance between them, facing him while he chewed and swallowed his mouthful of apple. Juice dribbled down his beard, and she wanted so badly to taste the sweet flavor of his lips again.

“You’ve grown on me, too,” she said, reaching for his hand with her own, hooking a finger around his. She used the other hand to delicately swipe her thumb across his facial hair, drying his face of apple juice.

He watched her in awe, looking at her as if she were the only being in the world.

“We should probably get back,” she whispered, refusing to break eye contact. “They might be worried.”

“Yeah, they might be worried,” he repeated, still staring at her, squeezing her finger with his own. “But I think it’s better we stay the night.”

“Why?”

“I don’t want to miss a second of seeing the moonlight on your skin,” he said, eyes roaming over her face.

Her face heated, breaking eye contact first. She knew the violet tones in her cheeks would betray her calm exterior once again.

“I could look at you for hours…” he trailed off, stepping closer towards her.

Their bodies were barely touching, their faces close enough so that the wind made the tips of his hair tickle her cheek.

He took his leather gloves off, revealing his scarred, calloused hands, likely from the years of training with blades. He cupped her face in his bare palms, the heat from his hands counteracting the chill of the sea breeze.

It was the first time he touched her with his bare hands, and she relished in the contact. It was a feeling of intimacy she hadn’t felt before.

She’d been abandoned by her birth parents and adopted by a human family. When they passed, she felt not only the tremendous loss of her parents, but the longing to be wanted by those who willingly left her before.

She saw so much of herself in Mal. The classic signs of abandonment issues were blatant in his personality. He wouldn’t admit it to her then, but he’d grow comfortable with her and come around. And she’d be there for him.

She watched as he leaned in tentatively. She closed the gap between them, pressing her mouth firmly against his, wrapping her arms around his waist.

He melted in her grip, a low groan coming from his throat at the initial kiss. She parted her lips, begging to taste him again.

She drug her hands around his torso, meeting at his belt buckle, unlatching and untying until they fell to the ground with a clank. She slid her hands underneath the tail of his tunic, pulling upwards. She was met with the firm muscles of his stomach, a soft tuft of hair from his navel to the waist of his pants.

“Zilyana, I…” he breathed, eyes half lidded.

“I want you,” she finished, pulling back just enough so that she could meet his gaze.

His hair had become unruly, whipped by the sea breeze and the momentum from running through the alleys of Parnassus. Loose strands framed his face like vines on a stone wall, begging for her hands to wrangle them.

“You sure you want this? We can pretend like it didn’t happen when we go back,” he said. She detected a twinge of uneasiness in his voice, like he didn’t know what he wanted from her.

“We can work it out later, Mal,” she whispered, running her hands farther up his chest.

He groaned, both because he was trying to maintain responsibility and his body was responding to her touch. “You’re right. Fuck it.”

He kissed her fervently, ripping at the laced-up ribbons on the back of her dress. The air between their bodies crackled, their unbridled sexual tension finally reaching its climactic end.

She tried helping him out of his clothes, but stopped after a few failed attempts. “For a simple guy, you have a complex wardrobe.”

He laughed, the deep bass of his voice barely audible over the sound of the waves. “I can be flashy when I want to be.”

He stripped his tunic off, then his boots, before helping her slide out of her dress. Her undergarments were thin, just thin enough so that he got a glimpse of her naked body underneath.

He rested his hands on her waist, pulling him towards her. She grazed her fingers across his stomach and lower back, lightly touching the dozens of scars. He had a story behind each scar, and she wanted to hear every one.

He eased her onto the stone, gently, like she was as fragile as a priceless heirloom.

“Look at you, Zilyana… so beautiful,” he whispered, a hint of a smirk on his lips. “I told you I like a pretty view.”

She searched his eyes, the trace of golden flecks gone with the sunlight, and she smiled internally. She was learning to love gold, too, as greedy as it sounded.

----

#playchoices #blades of light and shadow #mal volari #mal volari x mc #mal x mc #mal the magnificent #mal the rogue #my fic #jade writes choices fics

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gwoongi · 5 years

Text

𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗎𝗌 ✰ taehyung (2)

𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗎𝗌 kim taehyung / reader genre: zombie apocalypse au words: 4814

“She did,” Taehyung assured, reaching an arm around your waist awkwardly, but tight enough for you to feel comfortable, and safe, all at the same time. “They did. We did.”

warnings: graphic content, death references, gore, swearing, dark themes

a/n: sorree if it feels a little bit slow paced!! i just want to make it realistic :D thank you for the positive (and small) feedback, it means a lot :”) mmmm the sweet smell of CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT. i love slow burns lol :3c ((i also really recommend checking out the music playlist, especially listening to this + this bc. the last of us’ music is DIVINE))

01. denver ↝ 02. holiday with me ↝ 03. sad forever ↝ 04. surely ↝ 05. scorpion ↝ 06. shakespeare

As anticipated, the room connected to the rusted balcony was empty and upturned; the sheets stained caramel were tossed in bundles to the floor, bird feathers clinging to dried pools of rusted water and the smell of bird feces filled the room, overpowering the usual smell of dried sweat and blood.

Each step was meaningful and calculated as Taehyung stepped through the hotel room - because, it was indeed a hotel, as Taehyung noticed by the brass letters on the outside of each door, pulled off hinges and shedding tears of flaked paint. Leaving you behind slightly, Taehyung stepped out into the hall, staring in both directions to the end of the halls, where bodies lay rotting in sitting positions, blood-written messages praying one final time to God. He scoffed to himself.

“Find anything?” you asked, meeting him outside. He shook his head, turning to head in the West direction towards the stairs, knowing the elevator was most definitely down. An orange flicker of the light inside the pried open elevator showed a carcass, rotting and open, a putrid smell leaving through the cracks. You turned away before it sank in how affected the hotel was. Taehyung tugged at your sleeve when an open hotel door showed a bloody crib with barely moving mobiles.

Sticking to the plan you devised on the roof, Taehyung led the way, as if familiar with the hotel. A downfall of the elevator being out of use was the excessive amount of stairs, a waterfall of concrete steps running down to a square box trashed with shredded newspaper and articles of false hope: MILITARY ON THEIR WAY! VICTORY FOR HUMANITY!

Taehyung once believed in it.

The door was unlocked. Pushing it open, a cool breeze kissed Taehyung’s biceps, bare with his coat tied around his waist in a double knot. The foyer of the hotel was dark, only filters of lofty light pouring in from the windows, despite them being dirty and stained with handprints and splats of crimson. Moving away, Taehyung ducked underneath a fallen beam and stepped towards the main desk, checking for maps or papers or anything worth taking.

He leaned over, elbows on the wood, when he noticed a head of hair, facing the wall, arms outstretched and littered with red bites. Beside her, the cord to the telephone swung as if recently dropped, and the static of a radio could be heard louder when he rounded the desk to crouch before the body; it was a woman, with dark skin and brown curly hair, ripped clothing with exposed, shredded skin. Blood cried from her eyes and nose, and Taehyung sighed dejectedly as he pried away a Denver map from her hands.

The hotel was circled in a green pen - Merryweather Hotel. An arrow pointed to it, labelled City 10, Block 18.

“Shit,” he exhaled.

“What happened?” you asked, stepping over an open bag of luggage to approach him. He rose from his place, meeting you before you saw the body and the swinging mobile, or the cynical piece of paper reading, “May God Be With You”, written in Spanish, if he remembered.

Taehyung passed you the map. “Now we know where Block 18 is.”

You scanned the map, cursing softly when you noticed the markings. “The herd. Where’s the herd, then?”

“I don’t want to find out,” Taehyung replied briskly, nodding towards the doors. “Let’s just get out before we find out the walkers are behind the door to the basement, or something.”

Knowing your luck, it wasn’t entirely unrealistic.

Dampening your throat with hot saliva, you followed Taehyung to the double doors. As his fingers brushed the handle to leave, your heart thumped erratically; Taehyung had barely joined your group, and if he didn’t make it somehow...that would be on you. With little pride, you weaved in front of his arms, opting to take the lead. His gaze felt cold as you pushed in front of him, doing a slow and barely-audible countdown until Taehyung pushed the door for you, grabbing your hand in a swift and tight motion, pulling you into the room seconds before the count of three.

The door slammed closed at on 3, glass pouring to the floor with a loudness that alerted the herd before footsteps did.

The dead’s reactions were delayed, looking up from their meals to see the two of you speeding down the roads, the sound of your shoes slapping against the street echoing in the silence of the evening. Even as they begun to move, it was not fast and you were both able to make it back to the clearing where you had started at. Learning from earlier experience, Taehyung remained utterly silent, except for large gasps for air, and a string of foreign curses when the square was empty, missing Taekwoon’s ride.

They were gone.

“Fuck,” you muttered, mostly to yourself as Taehyung rushed towards a nearby car, shoved in front of the doors to a small convenience store once known as “TODD’S SHOP”. He slid into the driver’s seat, only to rush back out at the sight of a busted radio and torn apart insides, and the lack of steering wheel and pedals.

“It’s busted?” you asked, breathless, as he pulled you by the hand across the boot of the car, and into the desolate and destroyed interior of Todd’s once humble store. He closed the doors hurriedly, already working on fortifying defences.

“Completely useless.”

It’s surreal- you realise, as you scan the store and notice shelves torn off the walls, nails upturned and daunting, lights swinging, that the world can change so dramatically. Even when you try to pretend like most of the world aren’t undead and eating everything else, it’s hard to forget. Everything from the groans to the fallen stuffed animals is a reminder.

Somebody else had set up camp in the same spot. A small den had been made by pushing two display tables together, an L from the desk making a perfect sleeping station, already kitted with a cool gas lighter, and a thin and uncomfortable looking mattress and a hard pillow, stained slightly with a creamish substance that looked familiar to your high-school years. But, at this rate, anything would have to do.

“Over here, Taehyung,” you called, voice exhausted but loud enough to carry to his ears. He looked over his shoulder, briefly scanning the store as he walked robotically towards the makeshift bed. Dropping to a crouch, he craned his head to look at the bed, a frown of disgust evident on his features. But, being alive made him grateful, and he said nothing as he moved around you, occupied by your bag, to sit with his body on the edge of the mattress.

“I don’t have any food to share out,” you said quietly, but he remained unbothered.

“Don’t worry,” he replied, fingering your shirt from the back. “Maybe we can find apples on the way back.”

At that, you smile genuinely, fiddling with the gas lighter. “Apples?”

“Yeah. I saw an orchard on the way to your camp. Big green apples.”

With the flame lit timidly, you faced Taehyung with a small and vacant smile. “I like red apples more.”

“Me too. But, you can’t be picky when the world is ending,” he shrugged, and a chill slid down your spine. Masking your sudden somber mood with a faint smile, Taehyung stuck out an arm for a second pillow as you lay down beside him, facing away from the window. Taehyung leant over you, reaching to pull the blanket acting as a tent to block the auburn sunset and the thumping of biters outside the door.

“I’m sorry.”

Taehyung paused, moving his cheek across his own bicep to look at you, smushed against his arm.

“Me too.”

“I’m supposed to be the leader. I’m- I’m supposed to lead and set an example for the group,” you croaked out, feeling your eyes burn with dry tears. “You shouldn’t have come.”

A low hum left Taehyung’s throat. “Maybe. But then you’d be all alone and that walker would have got you.”

You scoffed, at that: “Jisoo would have been my partner.” A silence. “I hope she made it out.”

“She did,” Taehyung assured, reaching an arm around your waist awkwardly, but tight enough for you to feel comfortable, and safe, all at the same time. “They did. We did.”

You could barely remember the moment you woke up and left Todd’s old shop, just knowing that it was before the sun came up and in total silence. Fragments of thought- Taehyung sitting up with you still in his arms, a shake awake, and a quick jump out of the back window towards the forgotten trail into the thick woods. An avoidance, he had said, or something similar. To skip the walkers. You said nothing.

As expected, you rightly predicted that on foot, it would take nearly three days to return to camp. Sticking to the main road unless absolutely necessary, you found that you felt undeniably safe by Taehyung’s side; he walked several feet ahead, in a system designed by you, out of boredom on the long road home. You both walked along the dusty chalk-line in the middle of the road, looking forwards and to the left, backwards and to the right. Every sound was heightened in the silence, but the only thing to put you at ease was the familiar click of Taehyung’s gun, the occasional groan when his bat hit his knees and the comforting sound of absolutely nothing at all.

Cutting from the road to a trail in the woods, the sound of gravel and discarded beach pebbles underneath your boots became a familiar soundtrack as the pair of you walked along an abandoned train line, passing by a Caboose cabin on the way back home, fog slithering down the mountainous wall surrounding the Denver area.

Taehyung was right, too- on the way along the tracks, a big and blooming apple tree hung over the dip between the tracks and an ebony coloured stream of water, with giant green apples swinging in the breeze. Taehyung had helped hoist you up to pick four apples for the journey back, the first food of the day. The original sourness became a drug in your mouth, a taste so addicting that the four apples intended to last four hours lasted ten minutes. You simply tossed the cores to the side, hoping a tree would grow in the world that stopped working.

Further towards the warehouse, it became familiar enough to talk. Taehyung talked first, keeping the conversation clear and above the surface, mentioning his sister once again and the one time they went to Memphis for Spring Break and got lost. After almost dying alongside him more than once, it was impossible to fight the urge to know more about him. To debunk the mystery behind the new member who arrived with the gash in his leg, three cigarettes in his boot, and a stolen Scorpion-owned pistol covered in a crocodile skin protector.

Following the ancient-looking trail back to the warehouse, where the hills got steep, you could see the tops of the barbed fences enclosing the hideout, and a wave of relief washed over you. The atmosphere had changed drastically, and your feet moved quickly up the hill despite its efforts to deter you. Just a little bit further ahead…

Reaching the top of the hill, it took less than three seconds to recognise that something was wrong. The approaching puffs of air didn’t pull your gaze away from the swinging gates, very much open. Taehyung rested a hand on your forearm, confused. “Why’d you stop?”

His gaze lifted tenderly, noticing the opened gates and he hesitated, devoid of expression and breath. The wind stopped. Birds paused their singing. A cloud covered the sun.

Then, all at once, you broke out into a sprint, running towards the camp to see it in literal ruins. You had been gone less than three days, and everything had fallen apart without you. You should have noticed warning signals from the rising smoke on the way back home, but with a non-threatening camp just miles away from your own, it was always hard to tell the source. Part of the warehouse was alight, smoke stuck in the ceiling but nonetheless smelling out the place, and newspapers and colouring books fluttered like wings in the wind, carrying a smell of burning flesh with the familiar smell of oil and charcoal, burning paper, the smell of burnt toast.

Majority of the vehicles were gone, except one small Nissan Versa in a decorative black, although now painted in ash. A pile of blood, and a trail of dragged red towards the spot where the cars once were made your stomach churn, and the sight of a hand sticking out from behind the dumpsters, a hand that was human, was enough to make you cry out, in agony, staggering towards the dumpsters to find the mauled and maggot-covered body of little Yena.

She was too young. Way too young.

“Y/N?”

Sniffing, and turning to Taehyung with tear-stained cheekbones, you met his somber gaze as he passed you a sheet of sooty covered paper. Your reaction was delayed, but you nonetheless turned from the sight of Yena mangled up and gingerly took the paper from his hands, feeling the comfort of his fingertips brushing your own, gaze distracted on the corpse by the dumpster.

Y/N.

I hope you’re reading this. I hope it’s you, and not somebody else. It needs to be you.

We arrived back to camp with every intention of coming to find you the following morning. As I’m writing this, we have very little time. I’m in the car while the others deal with the biters. They’re in. They got in. They got Yena by the gate without us knowing. We think she’d gone to get flowers from the meadow, and got caught by one on the way back inside.

Yena didn’t make it.

With what we have left, we’re heading to Georgia. While the group were gone, we got a signal. From a group of survivors who have a boat with extra spaces. We made connection and managed to guarantee us seats on the boat. With Yena gone, at least we’ll have room for us all to safely cross the waters to somewhere new.

We’ll wait for you for as long as we can. We love you, and I hope you’re safe. Taehyung, too. I hope you made it out alive. We left a car. I hope it’s there for when you come home.

Please come. May God be with you.

Or whatever you believe in.

Doyoung.

“They’re gone,” you said finally, your voice scratchy from crying. Without even knowing, Taehyung had lead you away from the sight of Yena and towards the car. He’d put a sheet over her, to keep whatever dignity she had left. He pulled open the door for you. “They’re safe.”

“I know,” Taehyung replied, gently pushing you into the car. “Buckle up.”

The door shut, and instead of doing what he asked, you popped open the footwell, taking out a pen from the small leather pouch, drawing a wonky line from Colorado straight to Georgia. Pointing out the obvious, but enough to occupy the seconds alone inside the car. Taehyung moved into the seat next to you, closing the door and locking it for good measure. Thankfully the car was fully filled with petrol, and Taehyung sighed with relief when the engine started smoothly.

“Do you know how to drive?” you asked suddenly, and Taehyung looked at you with a deadpan expression, one eyebrow quirked.

“No.”

“Are you kidding me? No, get out, we’re switching. I can’t believe-”

“People are coming back from the dead and eating each other, and yet you can’t believe that I can’t drive?” Taehyung asked, almost offended. “Put your seatbelt on, Y/N.”

You scoffed. “I don’t fancy dying because you drove us off the road.”

“Why do you have, like, no trust in me at all?” he asked, a sigh in his voice as he reversed the car. “Just because I don’t have a license doesn’t mean I can’t drive safely. I got an Alton Towers drivers license when I went on holiday to England, so, it technically counts.”

“...Are you fucking with me?.”

“Deadly serious,” he nodded, smiling when he saw you grinning in the seat beside him. “I did laps around that track like my life depended on it, and I took the license to school and told kids I had passed my test.”

Leaning over to switch on the radio, you shook your head. “You’re full of surprises, you know.”

He shrugged. “I’ll take it. Which direction is Georgia?”

“That way,” you estimated, pointing an arm in the direction on the map. “You ever been to Georgia?”

“Six months ago, I’d never really been anywhere except for New York,” Taehyung replied. “You?”

“Nope. It’ll be like a holiday for us both,” you said, settling into the seat with the sound of a random jazz CD playing quietly. “Is that okay? Going on holiday with me?”

Taehyung pretended to think about it, and then looked over with a faint smile ghosting his lips, eyebrows quirked with an essence of playfulness. “I couldn’t think of anything worse.”

OCTOBER 27TH, 4 YEARS AGO. [x]

“What do you mean, you’re not going to Uni?”

For October, it was warm. Jiyong walked alongside you, his hands balled into fists in the pockets of his green bomber jacket, knees nude in the rips of his jeans. Just further ahead, Seunghyun led a trail of smoke towards an alley walled by chainmail fences, a lime-green light creating a path towards a low hum of chatter, his boots crunching on broken bottles and Autumn leaves.

You shrugged next to him, brushing against his shoulder. “I dunno, really. Can’t afford to go.”

“Uni’s do bursary now,” Jiyong said. “For people who don’t have a lot of money.”

“I appreciate it, Ji, but, I don’t think I’m fit for Uni,” you replied, exhaling a shaky laugh. The small group of high-schoolers made it to the end of the alley, stepping into the back-street submerged in a midnight silence, Denver lights creating bokeh effects in the after-rain landscape.

Minding the dark puddles, you walked in a short silence to a series of stairs leading to an abandoned subway line that expected construction months ago. Down them, students and late-nighters congregated near the train-lines, the familiar smell of weed and cheap Vodka in small dugouts in the wall, and you inwardly cringed as the three of you walked further down the subway station, towards a second staircase leading up, opening up into an abandoned street, where the hum of chatter became roars of excitement. Further ahead, bright nude lights outlined the buildings lining the street, and an accelerating vibration wriggled down the street, shaking the chains on fences, sending Seunghyun into an episode of excited dancing, cigarette slipping through his fingers and dying in the swimming pool of rainwater that flooded a nearby drain.

“Even Seunghyun is going to Uni,” Jiyong continued, irrelevant to the fact that you simply did not have the money to go. “You can’t leave us.”

“Sorry, Ji,” you said quietly, patting his shoulder gently. “It’s just not gonna happen.”

Jiyong watched as you left, his eyes lingering on the imprint left on his jacket. Stepping towards Seunghyun who was already steps ahead, he excitedly tugged at your sleeve, pulling you at a fast pace towards two large open iron gates, past bleachers and towards a once-alive-but-now-abandoned race-track, the type you saw on TV once, the type racers in the area used to practise for Formula tracks. By large barrels painted neon red, two parked race cars revved their engines, the crowd screaming with the bass-line of a song imported from Korea, courtesy of the star racer, Kwon Hyojong. Apparently Jiyong knew his family.

“What’s this about Uni?” Seunghyun asked suddenly, arm swung around your shoulders.

“Not you, too,” you groaned, removing his arm. “I can’t be arsed right now.”

“I’m just asking!” he responded, surrendering by raising his arms. To the side, Jiyong approached a group of girls you recognised from school. “I’m not here to lecture you like he will. He’s known you longer, so it’s part of his programme to mother you. Me, on the other hand…”

He trailed off suggestively, meeting your eye with a small and friendly smirk. Rolling your eyes, you nudged him to move, walking alongside him towards the barrier near the track. Across the road, the second racer, Johnny, took photos with some guys wearing glasses.

“I can’t afford it, after Mum, and everything,” you said, honestly, concentrating on the circles massaged into your skin by Seunghyun’s thumb. “But, it’s okay. I’ll still be in the area. You’re thinking of going to Denver Uni, yeah?”

He nodded, licking his lips once. “Still close enough to see you.”

“See?” came your voice, strained but nonetheless positive. Seunghyun smiled vacantly, hands on your body, sandwiched between the bar and his torso. “You won’t even realise I’m not there.”

“...Y/N.”

PRESENT DAY.

“Y/N.”

Jolting awake, your elbow slid off the door of the car, attention pulled away from the memory to the man beside you. Taehyung had been driving wordlessly, the radio quiet, the rain loud enough to send you to sleep. As the car passed the “WELCOME TO OKLAHOMA” sign on the left side of the road, his gaze had landed on your body, abnormally curled up on the seat.

Stirring, limbs sore, you rubbed your eyes clear of sleep, yawning. “‘sup?”

“Away out where the West begins, you’ll find Oklahoma!” he sang, a childish smile present as you groaned in annoyance.

“Already?”

He made a voiced confirmation. “Three minutes ago.”

Pulling the car into a slip-road, you straightened in your seat and took back the map that had slid into the footwell at some point during the journey. Taehyung looks after absentmindedly, his gaze heavy and content watching you scan the red lines on the map, oblivious to the empty road ahead.

“You mumble in your sleep,” he said finally, and you catch your tongue between your teeth suddenly, flinching towards him with a perplexed, and almost afraid, expression.

“I do?”

He nodded, humming. “Yeah. Little things like the weather. The Elvis vinyl.” He wriggled his brows, smirking.

Without realising, you sigh in relief. “Wish I could mumble out a way to cure this thing.”

Taehyung smiled a tight-lipped smile, his features giving away that there was something he wasn’t saying. To his relief, you didn’t notice; your attention was poured onto the map meanwhile he drove, silently, nearing a clutter of cars stained brown and ashy-white. He exhaled slowly, letting the car roll.

“We’re stopping?” you asked, looking up.

“I’m just gonna check something,” Taehyung assured, smiling once and pulling the keys out of ignition. The car jerked violently as it stopped, the radio cutting, the rain washing the front window. “Stay here.”

“Taehyung, no, I want to come with you-”

Without being rude, Taehyung opened the door and silenced your protests, locking it for good measure as you angrily pulled at the handle, glaring through the raindrops as he stepped, drenched by the minute, towards the barricade of cars blocking the road. He stood quietly, hands on hips, analysing the situation: if he moved the cars, it would clear the road, with the definite outcome of attracting walkers with the noise. Letting out a sigh, Taehyung looked around the area, noticing small community apartments lit with China lanterns, a banner with running ink reading: STILL ALIVE, but he couldn’t take any risks.

For now, at least, his own responsibility was keeping the both of you alive. No matter what it cost him.

Over the short ride across Denver, there was plenty of time for Taehyung to get to know you, to find out more about the leader of the group who took him in when nobody else would. He barely scraped below the comfort zone, only getting an age- the same as himself, aged 21- and a birthday, the name of a poem you wrote aged seven, the name of a family pet you had who passed away months before the outbreak. In return, you learned Taehyung studied Economics and Music at NYU and that he liked jazz music, which explained the torturous loop of whatever CD had been left behind in the car.

It wasn’t enough to start a friendship. But it would have to do.

Returning to the car, he sank into the suede seat and started the car back up, the lights switching on and the saxophone solo continuing.

“Nothing?”

Taehyung shook his head, reversing. “Nothing that wouldn’t cause attention. There’s a road, over there. I’m hoping it will take us right around the mound. Close your window- anything could pry it down.”

You didn’t argue. He knew what he was doing.

The car rolled silently, moving away from the barricade of cars and instead down a left-hand backstreet, cutting underneath a large junction, the old shed-sales company redundant and rotting with wet mould. The windscreen wipers cut away the stains of rain, clearing a view for Taehyung to manoeuvre around discarded bodies and open drains, the occasional biter trying to move from beneath a fallen lamppost, or groaning behind a fence too thick to bite through.

“Imagine how cool it would be inside an IKEA right now,” you said suddenly, staring at the large blue building just off the road, littered with biters in the car-park. Taehyung snorted. “I’m serious. Maybe we could pretend life was normal.”

“This is normal, now,” he replied, his voice quiet, as if afraid to be loud. “I don’t think I could get used to going back to how things were. Not after what I’ve been through.”

“I get that,” you nodded. “It would be nice to sleep on a real bed, though.”

“Ain’t that the truth.”

Further down the road, as the car cruised past an open alley looking outwards to a flooded stream littered with blood and guts, the atmosphere shifted. It was the type of moment where the air becomes clammy and it’s hard to breathe, even harder to pretend like nothing has changed. On command, the radio signal wavered, the smooth vocals of a singer you didn’t know crunched into incoherent static, and out the corner of your eye, you took note of the way Taehyung gripped the steering wheel tightly.

“Y/N, seriously, put your seatbelt on this time,” he said warningly, his gaze flickering to the shaking seatbelt that hadn’t been worn once during the trip. Sensing danger, you did what he said, putting your seatbelt in the slot.

Cautious of speed, Taehyung drove steadily down the road, ready to turn back onto the street when someone jumped in front of the car. She- it was clear enough to decipher that it was, indeed, a woman- slammed her palms flat on the bonnet of the car, eyes crazed and blood pouring from her lips. Unexpectedly, the car halted, making you thankful of the seatbelt.

“Please…” her voice said, quiet but loud at the same time. You glanced at Taehyung with a frantic gaze, noticing that his hand was ready on the gear-stick. “They’re gonna come for me. They gonna come. Take me with you. Get out, I’m takin’ your car.”

She moved in stutters, her body moving before her legs, like the shake of your body with a cough. Taehyung reversed slightly, bumping the tail of the car into a biter who had picked itself up from the corners of the abandoned shed company lot, its face sneering through the back window.

“They’re gonna kill me,” she repeated, but Taehyung didn’t budge.

“Taehyung- she’s-, we-”

“Get out the car or else I’ll kill the both of ya!” the woman screamed, violently lunging at the driver’s window, hands fisting the glass.

“Go!” you screeched, pinching the skin on Taehyung’s wrist as you gripped the steering wheel. “Please, go, go, go, go-”

Stepping on the gas, the car pushed forward at an alarming speed, a trail of thick black smoke blinding the biter but nonetheless drawing in more from the shadows, staggering and swarming towards the woman painted in crimson blood, her elbow white and exposed, the skin curling up with an infection, a bite on her neck.

Turning in your chair, you felt compelled to watch; the premium viewing experience, watching her get torn to pieces by her neighbours, a childhood best friend, a lover. Their grown fingernails scratching at her skin like needles to paper, the sinister sound of her screams attracting herds of biters from across the town, eager to taste. As Taehyung drove away, fast enough to avoid the mob but slow enough to save gas, it was harder to look away. Harder to look away from the beauty that was death.

NEXT CHAPTER.

122 notes · View notes

huangels · 6 years

Text

ha, that's funny cause you're in a witch costume - witch!haechan

a/n: i was gonna write more in haechan’s POV but i didn’t want this to be too long since it’s already 3k (i say this all the time but pls ignore typos bc i’m a blind bitch)

genre: fluff + humor

word count: 3.3k

"I wonder if the ice cream shop is open this late."

The frills of your red and black pirate costume casually sway from the winds of the late October night. You're lucky the costume set came with striped tights to keep your legs protected and warm from the biting cold weather. It would be a lot colder if it weren't for the group of three energetic friends walking beside you. Thanks walking heat bags.

"Probably closed by now, it's Halloween, Y/N," Renjun responds, pushing his glasses up. The breeze picks up once again, it blows dramatically on his black wizard's robe and blue scarf.

"That sucks, everything's closed." Jeno kicks at the loose gravel on the asphalt road, his Batman mask covering most of his vision. "What do we do now?"

"How about we play a little game I like to call, Truth or Dare?" Jaemin pops up from behind, swinging his arms around Renjun and you. The ninja sword sticking out of his back knocks into the back of your head, in which you return a playful smack on Jaemin's side.

"You dumbass, everyone calls it Truth or Dare," Renjun asserts, throwing Jaemin's limp arm off of his shoulders.

"Well, how about it, then?"

The four of you agree since almost all of the houses around are stripped of candy and ready for bed. You guys trick-or-treated for a while but only got the smallest amount of candy since apparently you guys are 'too old for Halloween.' Abandoning the traditional Halloween custom, you four walk around town, finding anything to do to pass the time. Now it is almost 10:30 PM and you are still out and about in town. Somehow, your parents are okay with this.

You rock, paper, and scissors to pick who goes first, resulting in the loss of Jeno. He chooses truth once Jaemin asks the main question.

"Where is the strangest place you have peed?"

"Jaemin, what the fuck?"

The rest of the group laughs as Jeno scowls at the younger, "I don't fucking know."

"Nope, you gotta say it," Jaemin pokes Jeno's nose with a sly smirk. Jeno looks at you and Renjun for help but the both of you shrug in response. It's truth or dare, you gotta do what you gotta do.

Jeno grumbles before taking a minute to recall, "I think it was in a bush while I was camping last summer."

"Wait, I know this story. You have to tell the rest!" Renjun urges the already embarrassed Jeno. Jaemin and you stare with big puppy eyes, waiting for Jeno to continue the story.

"Huh... Long story short, I peed in a bush where a family of skunks was living and they sprayed me... while I was in my most vulnerable position," Jeno explains, defeated.

You choke back a snicker but the other two has already let out their heaviest laugh. Through your stifled laughter, you tease the latter, "wait, Jeno... The skunks sprayed your- dick?"

Without saying anything, Jeno replies with a slight nod, the tips of his cheeks burnt as red as Jaemin's ninja costume.

"Jeno sprayed the skunks- and they sprayed back!" Jaemin nearly has tears in his eyes, latching onto Renjun's shoulder for stability as the shorter hunches over to stop his stomach from hurting. You take refuge by a pole of a street light, gripping it with all of your might and trying not to topple over in laughter.

"Just continue with the damn game. Renjun, truth or dare."

The game continues with more embarrassing truths, since no one is brave enough to choose a dare. Your turn comes up next, high on sugar and laughter, you decide to be the first to choose a dare.

Jaemin's eyes widen in excitement as Renjun looks around the premise, coming up with a dare. "Y/N, I dare you to enter that store and buy something."

Your line of sight follows Renjun's finger, leading to a small, dark store. It stands alone in the middle of two large shopping plazas across the street. The windows, bordered with intricate lacey designs, are tinted black so that you can't see the inside. The aura the shop exudes causes a shiver to run down your backside. You wouldn't have been able to tell if it's open or closed if it isn't for the light-up sign that reads, "Mystik Hex."

"Guys...I don't think it's even opened," you lie with a nervous chuckle.

Jeno slaps your back, pushing you across the abandoned road, "You got this!"

"Don't be a pussy, Y/N!" you hear Jaemin yell as your hands land on the door handle, which is a smooth purple orb. The glass door is tinted black just like the windows, a deep purple curtain decorated on the outside. It's tied up at both ends revealing the name of the shop again, in a fancy but eerie font. Before opening the shop, you take one more glance back at your friends. In case I die in here, at least I know who to haunt.

With your eyes shut, you slowly swing open the door. You don't expect that the first thing to hit you is the warmness of the shop, compared to the harsh fall weather. After the warmness comes the obscure fragrance of the shop, lemons and roses.

You open your eyes, one then the other, to take in your surroundings. As dark as the outer appearance seems, the inside is much more welcoming. The walls are painted a dark beige and lined along them are shelves stacked with boxes and jars labeled the strangest things. In the middle of the shop sits a glass display case, revealing an arrangement of jewelry and ornaments. Hanging from the ceiling is a variety of dreamcatchers, of all sizes, designs, and colors. And in the middle of the ceiling hangs a large candle-lit chandelier. Speakers hidden somewhere around the store plays soothing 80's jazz music.

"Can you close the door, it's cold?" A voice sounds from the back of the shop. You close your mouth, not knowing it fell wide as soon as your eyes opened. You step into the shop, letting the door close behind you with a tinkle of the welcoming bell.

"May I help you with something?" the same voice calls. You slowly make your way around the glass display, eyes wandering all over the store as there is a lot to take in.

Finally, you arrive at the back counter, meeting the sight of a witch (well, someone dressed as a witch), holding a magazine in her hands with a lollipop stick hanging from her lips. The tilt of the hat restricts you from getting a good look at her face and the magazine in her hands.

"Um, what's the- cheapest thing in here?" you hesitate, not knowing if the employee is listening. The latter lowers the magazine, eyeing you up and down as she switches the lollipop to the other side of her mouth.

Finally, the employee tilts her hat back to reveal...a male.

༄

[Earlier that day]

"Haechan!"

"Hae-!"

"What? What? What do you want?" a boy appears from the back room, pushing the beaded curtains to the side of the entryway. His hands are stained with a dark blue color.

"Remember, you're gonna be running this shop today by yourself. Open up at 12 PM and please remember to close at 12 PM. We don't want a repeat of what happened last time...," Yuta, the owner of the witch shop, lectures the younger. Small bottles of dried up leaves and colorful liquids magically enter into his messenger bag with a wave of his hands, surrounded by a haze of purple.

"By the way, Happy Halloween. I left your costume by the cash register. You better wear it or I'm gonna fire you."

Haechan rolls his eyes away from the entrance and towards the stool behind the counter. A plastic bag sits on the chair, with a picture of a female's witch costume on the front of the bag.

"Oh, for fuck's sake." Haechan picks up the bag, turning it around to see if Yuta is actually being serious.

He is.

On the back of the plastic bag is a sticky note with Yuta's scribbled handwriting on it, "I got security cameras in here."

Haehcan makes direct eye contact with a security camera to the right of the counter, pulling a middle finger out for Yuta to see later. The yellow sticky note floats above his flat palm before it burns into nothingness.

"Dressing up like a stereotypical witch is so embarrassing when you're an actual witch," Haechan thinks to himself. "But I know Yuta will give me shit for months if I don't put this on."

Entering the back room, Haechan slips into the purple and black dress, not even surprised that it fits perfectly (and that it matches the aesthetics of the shop). He ties the cheap corset around his waist and plops the bent hat on top of his head. Then, exits out of the room, back to the camera.

"Jokes on you, shithead. No one comes into this shop anyway."

༄

A male? In a female's witch costume? I mean it is 2018, and fuck gender roles.

"What did you say?" the boy squints his black-lined eyes at you. Your eyes travel down to his name tag, Haechan.

Even his name is just as intimidating as his appearance is. His dark brown eyes are smudged with black eyeliner with a touch of red shadowing. His lips are coated with a deep red tint and a sparkly gloss over them. His ears are lined with silver piercings, he even has a piercing on the right nostril of his nose. His hair is dyed a honey brown with highlights of pinks, blues, and greens. Loosely holding onto the magazine, the boy's fingers bears many intricate rings, but the uncanniest thing about them is that he has complex markings on the back side of his hand.

"Um- What's the cheapest thing in here?" you repeat with a gulp.

Haechan pulls out the lollipop with a pop noise and points it at you, "what is this, some kind of prank? Because I'm not in the mood."

"Well, actually kind of. It's a dare from my friends."

"Your friends dared you to come in here- and buy the cheapest thing?"

"Basically."

Haechan returns to his magazine, which now you can see clearly it's for magical spells, and points to the far corner of the shop, "Those rocks are $5."

You look at the small cauldron of differently shaped rocks and colored crystals, which are actually pretty cool and seem to glow in an unusual way. You dig around in the cauldron before selecting a violet-colored crystal.

"I'll have this one," you announce as you place the small gem on the table.

The latter glances at the crystal placed on the counter, "Ah an amethyst. A remedial stone."

You tilt your head in curiosity, not knowing that rocks can have meanings behind it. Haechan takes this as a sign to continue.

"The gemstone amethyst is helpful in purifying the mind and relieving it of negative thoughts. This includes the negativity of stress and anxiety, which is why many people meditate with amethyst so as to rid themselves of that darkness," Haechan explains, the magazine now forgotten on the counter as he continues to expand on the significance of the gem.

You lean in, interested to learn what other aspects the amethyst holds. As the boy talks, you feel drawn in as if compelled to keep listening to him. The way the magical words leave his tongue makes the meaning of the stone more interesting. It seems like Haechan really enjoys learning about these magical elements as his eyes ignite throughout the explanation. The more you stare, the more Haechan intrigues you. There's something about him, the burning fire and shimmering stars in his eyes, both calm and stormy.

You can't help but let out a soft, "Wow..."

Haechan chuckles at your awed state, picking up the stone. Somehow it glows even brighter in his hands. "You know, I can put this into an accessory for you."

"Oh, thank you but I only have $7 with me," you avert your eyes, feeling a slight blush form on your cheeks.

"It's alright, it's on the house. The stone, too."

"Wait no, at least let me pay for that."

But Haechan has already disappeared behind the beaded curtains into the back room. You pull out the $7 and place it between the pages of where Haechan left off in his Magazine. You feel bad if you didn't pay for it and the dare is to buy something in this shop.

A few minutes pass by as you grow bored of just standing there, waiting for Haechan to return. So you roam around the shop some more, studying the different jars, candles, potions, and crates. They all hold specific items or ingredients, an explanation plastered on a note next to them.

Couple more minutes fly by but no sight of Haechan.

You make your way back to the counter, looking through the curtains. Bright explosions of purple and white lights puff from behind a slightly opened door. Out of curiosity, you peak through the crack.

What you see causes you to let out a gasp, knocking the door open.

Haechan stands by a large black cauldron, with purple and white smoke rising from the lavender-colored liquid. Hanging above the cauldron is a lever, lowering the gemstone into the mystery liquid.

Surrounding Haechan is a cloud of purple fumes. The markings you noticed earlier on his hands glow within his skin. He looks too concentrated in the cauldron, with his eyes closed, to notice you standing by the opened door. Though, you don't know if you should leave quietly or call to him. Either way, you can't do anything since your body isn't responding, leaving you frozen before him.

The fumes of deep purple whirl around, picking up speed before it comes to a full stop. The purple glow from the liquid dissipates, leaving the room dim since its only light source is a small ceiling light. Haechan's hands return to their normal state as he picks up the amethyst necklace, back facing you.

You still haven't made a noise or movement since barging into the room, hoping whatever magic is happening here can make you disappear from the shop forever. However, no magic is able to help the situation as Haechan turns on his feet with a smile and the necklace in his hand. But as soon as he meets eyes with you, he jumps back in panic, dropping the necklace. Yet, it stays floating in the air before returning to the palm of Haechan's left hand. You don't think you've even blinked since before this incident with how wide your eyes are right now. Neither of you dares to speak as you both don't know what to say.

The silence soon breaks with Haechan's distraught voice, "How long h-have you been standing there?"

"Uh, I saw the purple cloud thingy," you answer coarsely, though you know that isn't the best answer in this circumstance. "What was that? What are you?"

"I'm nothing. A human. Just a human. Yes." The way Haechan answers exposes his true nature.

"What are you?" you repeat with furrowed eyebrows, confused and slightly frightened. Is this how I die? I knew I would die the moment I followed up with the dare. Those pesky boys are so going to get a big haunting.

Haechan sighs, "I'm a witch."

"Ha, that's funny cause you're in a witch costume," you sarcastically respond, "No seriously, what are you?"

"Seriously, I'm a witch."

Haechan holds up his right hand, the black markings turning into a lustrous white as a swirl of purple smoke transform into a flame above his palm.

You stumble back into the door, not knowing how to react.

"Don't worry, I won't hurt you," the latter assures as the flame disperses into thin air.

Another silence flies by as you're still too stunned to function. A thousand thoughts squirming around in your head, trying to come up with some explanation.

Haechan moves forward to your frozen state, holding out the amethyst, "Here."

Your arm finally responds back and hesitantly raises to grasp it from his palm. You expect his palm to be burning hot from the flame but it's a normal bodily temperature. Though, you don't know what would be more unnerving. "Oh, thanks... for the necklace."

"Actually, it's not a necklace, it's an amulet."

You cock an eyebrow at the boy, "What's the difference?"

"Well, necklaces are just decoration, they hold no special abilities," Haechan takes back the amulet and connects it around your neck. "Amulets, on the other hand, are objects that are carried by or worn on a person that holds a specific energy or spell."

With how close Haechan is, you can feel his breath fan over your face as he explains the difference. Your voice drops to a whisper, "Then, what does this amulet hold?"

"Protective powers, as well as healing ones."

Your eyes meet his in awe but confusion, "protecting me from what?"

"Anything that's dangerous, Y/N."

"How do you know my name?" you break the contact between you two.

The ends of Haechan's mouth curves upwards, "I'm also psychic."

"Wait, really?" you bolt up in interest, eyes wide again.

"Nope," Haehcan pops the p, "I just heard you and your friends yelling outside of my shop earlier."

Your shoulders slump down, disappointed. Haechan leads you out of the back room, closing the door behind him. Before you can thank Haechan and speak a farewell, a group of yells enters the shop.

"What have you done with Y/N?"

"Where is she?"

"We're gonna kill you."

You realize it's Renjun, Jeno, and Jaemin barging into the store in their lame protective stances. Renjun holds his plastic wand out just as Jaemin holds his foam swords, Jeno just has his fists in front of him as if he really is Batman.

"Guys relax, I'm fine." You hurry them away from Haechan before they can embarrass you anymore.

"Who's the girl?" Jaemin points at Haechan, a smirk plastered on his face, sending a flirty wink to the latter.

"I think that's a dude, man," Jeno punches Jaemin's shoulder, stifling a snort.

You flash an apologetic smile at Haechan, harshly whispering for the guys to wait for you outside.

"Wait, that's a guy? Holy shit man, why are you in a girl's costu-." Jaemin gets interrupted by an electric zap sent from Haechan's finger to his butt. The younger jumps up from his stance, rubbing the back of his butt with an 'ow.'

"Let's get out of here, Y/N hurry before he kills us all."

Renjun pulls along your arm as you wave goodbye to Haechan. I'll come back, you whisper in your head, hoping Haechan has some type of magical power to read it.

༄

"Is this...a jar of eyeballs?" you place the glass jar on the table with your tongue sticking out. "Gross."

"It's frog eye but yes," Haechan hums, too focused on the potion he's mixing up in the back room. You're seated by a small table juxtaposed with the caldron, handing Haechan the ingredients and herbs he needs from the shelves of mysterious items. It hasn't been long since you've started working in the witch shop.

"What do you even need that for?" you question, wiping your hands on the black apron tied around your waist.

"All sorts of things," Haechan briefly answers, mumbling for the Burdock Arctium Minus.

You hand him a jar of the purple spiky plants, "and what are you making now?"

"A love potion."

422 notes · View notes

hardyimagines · 6 years

Text

Part 2 — The Baker

Part 1 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

Could I request an Alfie Solomons x reader where she has no idea who he is and thinks he’s just a baker so he bakes things for her and is sweet but he keeps trying to hide his identity bc he really likes her and eventually she finds out who he is? You decide whether you want the ending to be angst or fluff! And please make this one a bit lengthy :) thanks love 💗

Requested by @centerhabit

Word count: 8k

—

It was late in the evening the next time that you came across Alfie. The sun had already set, leaving you to find your way to the bakery in the shadows that covered the streets. You clutched on to your coat and dragged it around you more firmly as your boots hit the cobble audibly with every step that you took. You were close to your destination, just another right and then a left and there it would be. You hadn’t been back to the bakery in two weeks. Every night was spent asking your grandmother if she needed any treats from the bakery or if a loaf of bread was required for dinner. The elderly woman would cock a brow and eye your giddy form. ‘I think you’ve got your eye on someone down at the bakery, hm?” Her chestnut eyes would study you intently when she would ask you, but you would brush it off and busy yourself with the house chores.

Finally, today, she had requested that you stop by the bakery on your way home and pick up a few loaves of bread because the two that you had bought previously were now finished. You’d just locked up shop at the jewelry store and were now moving along the wet ground toward Alfie’s. You weren’t even sure if the bakery was open at this late hour. You were meant to go a few hours ago, but your boss had held you back, so now the streets were empty and uninviting. Turning the corner sharply, your small form hit something big and heavy and with a gasp, you clutched on to whatever it was in front of you. Your heart was beating so heavily in your ears, you couldn’t hear anything else. Staring up at whatever it was that you’d rammed into, you realized as the body began to move that it was a man. “Forgive me, sir, I wasn’t paying attention.” You smiled softly before stepping back and creating distance between the two of you.

The lantern that illuminated this area of the street shone down on the bloke. He was mid 40’s, blonde, had a crooked tooth in the front. His eyes were green and threatening. “Watch where you’re going next time.” He muttered before shoving past you. You, stunned by the rudeness of him, mumbled under your breath about how uncivil and unmannerly some people could be. He, having heard what you said, didn’t take kindly to that. You were striding off and had just turned the corner when you felt a sharp pain in your wrist. When you looked down, you realized that the man had a painful hold on you. “What did you say?” He spat, shoving you angrily toward the darkest corner of the road. “About me being uncivil? Why, because I don’t accept your apology? You shouldn’t be so clumsy. Don’t blame me for your mistake.” He growled, tightening his grip on you. The atmosphere around the two of you was tense and the hairs on your arms were sticking straight up. You’d never been approached like this by anybody. “Sir, I- I’m sorry.” You whispered out, staring up at him with pleading eyes.

He was just as unforgiving as he was apologetic. “Oh, you’re sorry? Well, whore, let me show-“ you tuned him out. Whore? Just because you were walking alone late at night to get some bread, that made you a whore? Struggling in his grasp, you tried to yank yourself free, but he used his body to press you to the wall. The world around you seemed to grow darker, casting you further into the darkness as the lantern in the street faded. Alfie was sat at his desk, pinching the frame of his glasses as he held them on the bridge of his nose. Muttering under his breath as his eyes scanned the papers in front of him, he rubbed his teeth together in contemplation before smoothly guiding his utensil along the page, marking it. It was late and he could hear the clock in the corner ticking, reminding him that time stood still for no man. He wasn’t going to get any rest tonight if he didn’t head home now. The broad man rose from his position at the desk and tucked away the files that he had out. Locking each of his desk drawers, he left his office with a low whistle, ensuring that the door was closed shut and impossible to get into.

The man tugged his coat on to his body and was in the middle of putting on his hat when he heard his name. Arching a brow at the rather desperate sounding cry, he turned on his heel and peered down the corridor that leads to the backdoors. Studying the empty space, he wondered if he had simply imagined the sound, but when he heard another yell for help, he clutched his cane and set off in the direction of the shouting. You didn’t stop fighting against the man, even as he clutched the ends of your dress and tried to drag them up to your hips. Your free arm was balled into a fist, angrily hitting his chest, face, and hip as much as you could to try and stop him from doing what you ultimately knew he was trying to. He pressed his hand roughly over your mouth to silence your screaming. Alfie wasn’t here, you told yourself as you shut your eyes. He’d gone home like everyone else in the town had and you should’ve done the same. A single tear slid down your cheek and your stomach twisted as the man in front of you let out a dirty chuckle. “It’s not gonna hurt, love, I’m sure you’ve had more than just me. What with being a whore and all.” He moved his hand away from your lips and instead gripped your throat. His fingers sunk into the tender flesh, squeezing your jugular until your face turned red. You squirmed beneath him and tried to get free, but you could feel the life leaving your body as your lungs CLAWED for oxygen.

You heard the groaning of the door and when you looked to the side, you briefly caught sight of a large figure marching toward you. “Oi!” The deep voice bellowed. There was the thudding of his feet and the tapping of his cane as he moved toward the man that had you pinned in place. “Oi, mate!” He shouted again, finally catching the attention of the git. The blonde man turned harshly, squinting at Alfie. “Piss off, she’s mine!” The man barked back just as aggressively. You took the brief distraction as a time to elbow the man in the side and wiggle free. You recognized the voice as none other than Alfie Solomons. Ducking beneath the blonde, you rushed to hide behind the baker. Curling your fingers gently in the back of his coat, your forehead pressed against his back, breaths shaky and body rigid.

Alfie jabbed his cane into the man’s chest roughly. “Right, see, she’s not yours, mate. She’s fucking terrified.” Alfie glanced over his shoulder at you, brows furrowing instantly as he realized just who you were. He was unaware that this was a stranger you had accidentally run into and instead, he assumed, this was your abusive lover or something of the sort. Alfie licked his lips before turning back to face the brute. “You know who I am?” Alfie asked the man gruffly. The blonde seemed to move forward, squinting in the darkness until Alfie moved forward and into the lantern. His chiseled features came into view and you slowly peered around Alfie to watch as the man went pale. “Mr. Solomons, sir.” The man whispered in recognition. “Forgive me, I.. I suppose I just lost my temper there for a second.”

Alfie squinted before lazily brushing his thick fingers along his wooden friend. “All’s forgiven once you apologize to the lass.” Your shield stepped to the side and you straightened to make yourself look braver than you actually were now that you couldn’t cover behind Alfie. The man pressed his teeth together tightly before nodding once to you. “I’m sorry ma’am. I don’t know what came over me. I’m truly sorry..” You licked your lips slowly before shrinking back with a curt nod. Moving back toward Alfie, your fingers wrapped in his coat, stepping even closer to his form.

With your pleading touch and unfamiliar gaze, Alfie realized that you, in fact, did not know the man in the alley. Taking your hand smoothly in his own, he spun you away from the scene and pushed you gently toward the bakery. “Go. Inside.” He muttered. As soon as you had wrapped your hand around the handle, you heard the sickening sound of Alfie’s cane crushing the bloke’s nose as he rammed it forcefully into his skull. Tugging on the door with difficulty, you’d barely managed to get it open before Alfie easily gripped the door above your head and pulled on it the rest of the way. Looking at him gratefully, you smoothed down your skirts and adjusted the laces at the top that were torn.

Studying the baker as he pulled off his coat and instead wrapped it around you, he pointed toward his office. “Right, go up there and get out of that dress. It’s all torn, innit, we can’t have that. I can have it fixed for you and you can wear my coat for now.” You didn’t budge, so he once again took your delicate hand in his own. “Right, come on then.” Guiding you up the stairs and along the hallway, he slid the key in the lock before opening it. “In you get.” You obliged. “I’ll guard the door, eh?” Winking at you, he hung his hat back on the rack and closed the door. Whistling softly, his back pressed against the wood as he waited. You could see his outline through the glass and it was only now, alone in his office that you realized it reeked of alcohol. Your shaky fingers undid the rest of the dress, slipping it off of your body to pool at your feet. You could see the baker, shifting his weight from his right foot and then to his left and back again. Using the coat to cover the thin slip you wore, you buttoned each button before slowly opening the door. Alfie turned to face you, allowing his eyes to fall to the black coat that swallowed your form. “It’s a bit big, dove. You alright or do you want something different?”

You couldn’t help but smile up at him. “What’ll you do, Alfie. Strip down to your slacks and give me your shirt?” Giggling breathily, your fingers moved to pinch the fabric of his white shirt, stroking it lazily. “It does feel rather comfy.” You joked before retreating over to the desk. Lifting your fallen dress, you folded it neatly and, as instructed, placed it on the corner of his desk. “The coat is just fine, Alfie, thank you.” Taking the time in the deafening silence that followed your words to let your eyes roam around the room, you couldn’t help but smile. This was fitting for him. The man moved into the room, clearing his throat to grab your attention. “Right, love, what are you doing roaming the streets at this late hour? Didn’t your ma and pa teach you no sense? It’s fucking nutty what you’ve just done, yeah?” You watched as he sat down on his squeaky chair with a grunt of what could only be described as relief. He grabbed the fabric of your dress and pulled it in front of him. Taking a needle and thread out from one of the drawers he had to unlock, he set his glasses back on the bridge of his nose and got to work.

The sleeves of the coat were too long on you, so you looked armless as you stood before him, watching intently as he smoothly fixed the ripped dress. He kept his gaze down, focused on the task at hand, but he had to bite back his smile as he felt your heated gaze burning into his movements before you finally answered his question. “No, see, they did, but I was coming to see you so I thought I would be alright. It’s not a long walk and my grandma needed some bread.” You bit your lip gently before moving closer to his desk and standing at his side. “I’m sorry, Mr. Solomons. I didn’t mean to cause any trouble.” He shot you a look of disbelief, head shaking slowly. “You’re not the trouble.” A lengthy sigh followed his words. He scratched the side of his jaw before allowing his eyes to finally rest on your own while he spoke. “Are you alright, pet. He didn’t hurt you or nothing?” You shook your head slowly, definitely accustomed to being referred to as his pet. “No, Alfie.” You whispered. “I’m fine. He just startled me.” Your neck was a little sore, but you didn’t mention it. His enchanting gaze flickered between your alluring one. “Right then.” He looked back to the dress, weaving the needle in and out of the fabric. He stood, once again towering over you. He reminded you of the building itself. So dominant and dark and no matter how dangerous or strange it— he appeared, you wanted to stay. He opened his mouth to say something but was silenced as your tiny palm lifted to cup his cheek. Affection was foreign to Alfie. He didn't much mess with women and the ones he had fooled around with worked in the whorehouse up the road. He hadn’t been there in years though, he found that he was a rather doting gentlemen and preferred to be loved on rather than just fucked. Despite what people thought of him, nobody would expect the tender man in the bedroom.

Your thumb glided along the stubble that coated his jaw and you wondered silently to yourself if kissing him would be such a mistake. You hadn’t been able to get the dashingly handsome man out of your head for the last two weeks and it was apparent he felt something for you too, for he leaned into your small palm, seeking something, but you weren’t sure what. Your boots brushed the tip of his as you stepped closer, other hand coming up to press softly against the base of his neck. “May I kiss you, Mr. Baker?” You whispered quietly. “To thank you.” This time, Alfie did smile. It was big and his cheeks grew into little bubbles beneath his eyes as his teeth were now on show. He let out a hearty chuckle before allowing his hands to do as they desired. His left palm found the curve of your hip and the other traced the length of your arm before settling on the side of your neck. “Fucks sake, if you don’t then I will.” His smile faltered as you leaned in, but only so he could pucker his lips.

Your lips were warm and soft as they pressed against his. The pink and plump flesh was as sweet to kiss as it was to stare at. He tightened his grip on your waist and pulled you in closer so that your chests molded into one. In his few minutes of experimenting, he found that you would whimper when he bit your bottom lip and inhaled deeply through your nose if he moved his tongue along your bottom lip. Your mouth opened obligingly to let him kiss you deeper, but the second your tongue slid over his, he parted from you. His breaths were heavy and a bit raspy as he stared down at you. Though your lips were no longer connected, your bodies definitely were. “I think I’ve found my new form of payment.” He whispered quietly, watching the color as it darkened your cheeks. “And thank you’s.” He chuckled before slowly lifting his hand so he could trace your swollen bottom lip with his thumb. You trembled slightly at the sensitive touch before leaning in and kissing him once more. “Shall I just come back tomorrow, Mr. Solomons. I doubt you’ve got any warm bread tonight.”

The gangster nodded his head softly before moving his hand around your curvy hip to your lower back. Stroking it slowly, he rubbed his lips together. “It’s alright if I walk you home, yeah, it’s darker outside now than it was before, innit.” You nodded your head gently before creating some slight distance between you. You, as you left work, had assumed that there would still be some late shift bakers here, but the shop was vacant. It was only Alfie here. You didn’t ask questions though, trying not to live up to his previous statement of ‘you talk far too much and ask entirely too many questions.’ Alfie locked his office and pulled his hat back on his head before leading you back downstairs and out of the distillery. He locked the doors outside before offering you his arm and grinning when you instead took his hand. It was a rather silent walk, the pair of you instead observing your feet as you move, unsure what to say to the other. Nerves were normal, weren’t they?

—

Now stood on the front porch of your house, you pulled your lips in and bit them as the baker stared down at you. Smiling slowly, your head tilted to the side. “I’d invite you in-“ you started, but as expected, he cut you off. “Oh? No, no, you hardly know me.” Smiling at your enthusiasm, he moved his hand to your chin and tilted your head back and toward his. “But I would like to take you out.” He whispered. “Tomorrow night? I can come by and get you and then.. I’ll take you somewhere nice.” Your heart thumped harshly in your chest. “Trying to spoil me already, Mr. Solomons?” You asked before nodding softly to his offer. “I’d love to go out with you.”

The man lit up like a Christmas tree and your heart grew heavy from how happy the man looked. “Tomorrow then.” He stated firmly, arm looping around your waist to draw you in. Even on your tiptoes, you had extreme difficulty reaching his lips. Cupping his cheeks, you stepped up on to his boots and leaned in the rest of the way, kissing him affectionately. “Tomorrow then.” You repeated with a smirk, brushing a loose strand of hair away from his cheek. He set you back down on the floor before backing away from the little house. Bidding you goodnight, you looked down at the coat you still wore. “Wait, Alfie, your coat!” The man halted before looking over his shoulder. “Keep it, pet, it looks much fucking better on you anyway.” The man turned again and with a gleam in his eye, strode off toward his home.

You slumped back against the door and shut your eyes. You were lost in your own world when the door was pulled open and you stumbled to the floor. “Alfie Solomons!?” Your grandma asked, exasperated. “You’re seeing Alfie Solomons? The Jewish man with the rum?” You whimpered from your position on the floor before pushing yourself up. “What?” Eyeing your grandmother as if she were crazy, you adjusted the coat. “What rum? Alfie runs a bakery.” You explained, rubbing your sore bum. Your grandmother eyed you like you had no sense, head shaking. “That man is years older than you, Y/N.” She pointed out. “And if that’s not enough, he’s a gangster. He’s killed before, he’ll kill again. That man is no good, Y/N, please don’t waste your time with him.” She pleaded, wrapping her much smaller hand around your own. You looked at her in confusion. “Grandma. I’ve been to his bakery. There’s nothing illegal about making bread and cake.” You licked your lips slowly before shaking your head softly. “Even if what you say is true, he’s a perfect gentleman to me, so why would anything else matter?”

Your grandma squinted harsher. “Darling, you don’t want to be with a man that could be killed the following day. He’s no good. No good to be a husband and no good to be a father. You need a respectable man that will be home before sundown and will–“ Your grandmother’s sentence faded as she watched your expression, unchanging. “You can’t like him that much, you’ve only met him twice.” She pointed out. You, angry and not in the mood to listen to what she had to say anymore, turned to climb the stairs. “Yeah, well when a man comes out of nowhere and saves you from being attacked and then you end up kissing before he walks you home, you develop some amount of feelings!” You shouted before slamming your door shut and sitting on your bed. Thinking slightly about what your grandma had said, you huffed. Yes, you were twenty and he was probably nearing forty, but why did that matter? And even if he was a gangster or whatever else he was involved in, that didn’t really matter much either, so long as he treated you good. Your arms crossed over your chest, face permanently set in a glare. You’d just have to ask him about it tomorrow.

The following day seemed to drag on. You spent all of that time washing clothes, making breakfast and lunch, scrubbing the floors in the kitchen and dining room, and then you’d gone to work. Work was no better. It was slower than usual because nobody was in any need for jewelry. There were no holidays coming up and people tended to be more enthusiastic about expensive gifts and wedding rings when Christmas was nearing or some other holiday that required giving your loved one something that said ‘I love you.’ You pushed your hair out of your face as you stood in your bedroom, scrutinizing your reflection. The red dress you wore hugged your figure. Your cleavage was more visible than usual and the necklace that clung to your neck danced vibrantly with rubies. It was a nice contrast against your pale skin. The dress wasn’t like the ones you usually wore. Typically, the fabric would flare out at the hips and resemble a ball gown, but this one was thin and figure embracing. It was a straight line all the way down, opposed to the areas where it fit on your curves. Your lips were painted the same shade as your dress and you silently hoped that Alfie enjoyed this color. It was rather risky, but you didn’t care.

The knock on the door sounded and you practically broke your neck trying to get to the door before your grandmother could. Your heels clicked audibly against the floor before you composed yourself and smoothed down your locks. Opening the door slowly, your eyes fluttered. Did he get more attractive overnight? Even with your heels on, you weren’t as tall as Alfie. Eyeing the outfit that he wore, you licked your lips in approval. The white shirt he wore was cleaned and looked freshly iron. His vest was black and he had rings and a necklace to accessorize. His cane was clutched in his hand, weight distributed heavily on to his good leg. “My, my, my, look at you.” He spoke softly, eyes none too subtly running along your form. You could see lust sprinkled about in his gaze, but it didn’t bother you. If anything, it made you happy to get that reaction from him. “You look so handsome.” You pointed out, brushing your thumb along his coat. This one wasn’t nearly as long as the other, but it was black and fitted and it matched extremely well with his attire.

He hadn’t ushered you out yet, so you assumed he was still ogling you. Being patient, you drew your bottom lip in and smiled warmly. Alfie moved his hand to your hip and then guided you forward and toward the car. Your grandmother watched from afar, eyes rolling as you didn’t listen to a word she said. You were going to get hurt and she wouldn’t be there to pick up the pieces when you ignored her advice for the third time. Alfie opened the door to the car and helped you in before following. He sat with a gruff grunt, head leaning back against the wall of the seat before he looked to the side at you. “Red’s my favorite color.” He pointed out. “How the fuck did you know that?” He whispered, leaning in close so he could press his lips to the underside of your ear.

Your skin tingled, goosebumps scattering along your flesh. Your eyes grew droopy and hooded, hands clasping together tightly in your lap. You were so sensitive when it came to affection and you found that this man was more than happy to give it to you. “I figured if I wore red, you wouldn’t be able to see me blushing all night.” You told him shyly, leaning in closer as he didn’t draw back any. “Pet, a blush never fucking goes by unnoticed.” He told you quietly before doing as you silently hoped and kissing your rosy lips. You brushed the little amount that smeared on his lips away and giggled as he pulled an expression of disapproval. “Not a fan of lipstick?” You asked quietly. The man rolled his eyes at your question before covering your dainty fingers with his wide ones. “Its a bit funny on my face, innit, looks awfully well on you though.” His eyes settled on yours and you swore he was fucking you with just a look. Your breaths deepened and you slowly gnawed on your cheek. You were grateful when the vehicle came to a stop because you weren’t sure how he was doing what he was doing to your small form, but you could tell he wasn’t envisioning just kissing you. Following him out and on to the pavement, you wrapped your arms around his middle and gazed up at him. “That was rather inappropriate don’t you think?”

The man gave a sly grin, staring down at you with that same look in his eye. “Whatever do you mean?” He asked, hot breaths wafting over your lips. “Alfie, quit it. This is our first date, you’re not meant to make me so flushed, so soon.” Pinching his side, you giggled when he growled. “I’m sorry, pet. You’re a bit difficult to fucking resist, right? Look at you.” Reaching up, you clutched on to the collar of his shirt and pulled his mouth to yours. Maybe Alfie wasn’t usually one for being affectionate in public, but you didn’t know that and he didn’t seem to care. You eagerly kissed him, hand curling in the back of his hair as your tongue passionately moved against his own. He let out the most breathtaking grunts that you’d ever heard and you suddenly felt tipsy from all the attention you were receiving from him. When you had finally managed to pry yourself away from the addicting human, you stared at his lips, swollen and red. From the kiss or the lipstick, you weren’t sure, but you assumed it was from both. He was amazed that your lipstick was fine, still in place despite the hungry kiss that he had just given you. He stayed still as you wiped the makeup away and when you had finished, he followed you into the building. “Your facial hair hides what little of the lipstick I couldn’t get off.” You told him softly. He shook his head gently. “Doesn’t matter, I reckon we’ll be doing it a lot more so it’s really pointless to just keep wiping it away, yeah?” You smiled lazily at his words. Well, he was right. And the only thing people would realize is that Alfie was kissing you, the red-lipped, doe-eyed girl at his side. You were absolutely fine with that.

Alfie led you into the restaurant and you were suddenly glad that you’d selected such a daring outfit because everyone here was dressed vibrantly— expensively. Your hand curled around Alfie’s, briefly looking up at him, but he was determined to get to wherever he was taking you. Following him to the booth that was settled in the corner, he let you take your seat first before he followed. Settling down at your side, he lazily hooked his cane on the edge of the booth before removing his coat and draping it to the side as well. He turned and you lifted a brow. He was staring again. “Alfie.” You warned. “You can’t just undress me with your eyes. This is a first date, you’re meant to tell me about yourself.” The man ran his tongue along his teeth before slowly placing his elbow on the surface of the table. “I’m doing a lot more than undressing you.” He pointed out matter-of-factly before slouching back in the seat and nodding. “I know, pet, I’m just in awe right now.” He muttered. Your face grew hotter with every word he spoke and soon enough you were burying your face in the glass of water that the waitress brought over. “Well tell me about your bakery.” You stated, finally setting your glass down and wiping your water mustache away with the back of your hand. The man lifted a brow at your tone before grunting. “Nothing much to fucking say about that, is there? Opened it a while back and business was booming so I thought, right, I’ll just be a baker. Simple as that. Nothin else to tell, you saw with your own eyes what we provide.” You tilted her head and gave a slight nod before humming. “Well, Mr. Solomons, I suppose I’ll just come right out and say it.”

You pushed the stray hairs out of your face that never seemed tameable before eyeing him curiously. “My grandma says your a gangster.” You whispered, afraid he’d laugh and find you silly. Rubbing the side of your neck slowly, your brows furrowed as he straightened. Oh. He took a defensive posture now. You watched as he fiddled with the zip on his jacket before he fixed you with a hard stare. “You fucking what?” You straightened as well, averting your eyes from him as his voice grew. “Alfie-“ You hissed. “It was just a question, relax.” The man folded his arms over his chest and shrugged his shoulders. “Well, would it bother you if I was?” He ground out, afraid that someone as fragile and vulnerable as you wouldn’t be interested in someone as ruthless as him. You realized then, as you watched his expression change, that he didn’t care about the fact that you found out about his actual job, just that he was afraid you’d skip out on the date if he confessed. You moved your small hand to his knee, squeezing it gently. “No, it doesn’t bother me.” You whispered. “I do wish that you had told me the truth, but..”

His expression changed completely to one of sincerity and apology. “I really am sorry, pet. We’d only met once and I didn’t think it practical to thrust something so fucking big on you.” He briefly eyed your fingers as you lazily rubbed his thigh before he moved his attention back to your face. “I would’ve told you, eventually, but there was a risk that you wouldn’t come back to the bakery, weren’t there?” You shook your head softly. “I don’t like you as a baker, you git, I like you, despite your occupation.” Leaning in, your fingers drummed up the length of his thigh, nails scraping the inner part. He closed the space that was left and kissed you softly, letting out a low growl when your fingers inched higher. When the kiss ended, you slumped back. “Okay, so what does gangster Alfie do?” You asked curiously. Alfie brushed his thumb along the back of your hand before nodding. This was something he would tell you about. “You could always come by and see.” He uttered before continuing on anyway. “I provide rum, yeah, white and brown. I’m just your typical Jewish gang leader.” He chuckled. “I speak Russian.” He stated. “Uh,” there was a lengthy pause. “Its fucking tiring, I’ll tell you that much. Plus you’ve got the bakers that are always fucking around and that’s a bit annoying, but nothing I can’t handle.” He pinched his mustache before inhaling deeply. “Bit of a dog lover, I am, yeah, got a pup at home, he’s called Cyril.” You practically gushed. “Ohh, Alfie, What kind of dog is he?” You slid closer to him, fingers so, so very, close to his crotch. He swallowed harshly. “He’s just a fucking mutt, pet. I ain’t really sure. You can come around and see him though.”

Alfie slumped. For such a seemingly shy girl, your fingers were rather confident. He moved his hand around to your back, brushing his fingers along the red fabric that hugged your body. “You like me better as a baker or a gangster?” He asked softly, face close enough that you could feel his breaths as he spoke. “Unfortunately, I really think you’re both.” You whispered before moving your fingers the rest of the way up his thigh. He closed his eyes and waited for your fingers to brush the sensitive area, but you skipped over it and instead laid your palm against his belly. “Mr. Solomons, you didn't really think I’d touch you there on our first date, did you?” Kissing the side of his neck, you smirked. “That’s for the second date.” Lifting your leg, you swung it over his lap so that you were straddling him. Luckily, everyone else seemed to be occupied with their own lives and even if they weren’t and did catch a glimpse of what the pair of you were doing, it didn’t matter. This was Alfie Solomons. Who’d mess with him? Leaning in, your nose brushed across his, lips doing the same. “I want to dance.” You told him quietly, applying just enough pressure to his crotch to make him move his hands to your hips. “Pet, as.. much as I’d love to give you what you want, you’re fucking sat on my lap, making me as hard as a rock, I’m not going to be able to get up and dance.”

You gave a pout, kissing him once more. “You’re too easy.” You joked before sliding off of his lap. Leaving the red-faced man to try and rid of his not so little issue, you moved to the area where people were dancing and suddenly felt shy again. Without Alfie at your side, you were just a tomato out of place. It didn’t take long though before the gangster was muttering curses under his breath and approaching the floor. “Right, I don’t fucking dance.” He growled, hand sliding to your much smaller one. He tried to tug you back to the table, but you resisted. Your eyebrows lifted, eyes scanning his. “What if we go somewhere more private? I really want to dance with you.” You could hear him grinding his teeth, letting out a breathy growl because he could already tell you were always going to get your damn way. “Fine. Come on, then.” Leading you away from the swaying bodies and out to the vacant hallway, you smiled. The music was still hearable and the space was more than wide enough for the two of you to share a dance. Your heels clicked quietly against the floor as you were dragged into his embrace, bodies moving in sync as you both began to sway. You let your head fall forward to rest against the muscly chest in front of you and he let his head fall forward to rest his lips on your hair. “You like to dance, pet?” He whispered. You smiled, squeezing his hand gently in response before you lifted your head and narrowly missed kissing his lips. He didn’t move. Your nose skimmed his chin, smiling gently. “Like to dance? Not so much. Like to dance with you? Yes, I’m actually enjoying this quite a bit.” You pressed your lips against the exposed skin at the top of his chest since it was the easiest thing for you to reach before looping your arm around his neck. “Alfie?” You whispered, burying yourself in his embrace.

His brows lifted at your soft tone, head tilting slightly. “Yes, pet?” He whispered back just as gently as you had. You held your breath for a second. How were you meant to ask him if he was merely interested in sex or if this date actually meant something to him. Pursing your lips, you decided it was better not to ask. You’d find out sooner or later. “I’d like to do this again.” The man moved his lips to your ear as your bodies pressed even firmer together. “Whenever you want, pet. I can give you a tour of my bakery tomorrow?” He offered, drawing back so that he could see your features fully. “Would you like to?” Your teeth clamped down on your bottom lip. “I’m not too sure I want to walk-“ you shouldn’t have been shocked that he cut you off. “No, pet, you can stay the night with me. Sleep in the guest room if you’d like? And then in the morning, we will go together.” Your finger curled around his, gazing up at him intently. You weren’t sure if this was considered moving too fast, but you didn’t really care if it was. Nodding happily, you closed your eyes as he pressed his lips to your nose before swaying once again. As the restaurant grew quieter and emptier, you realized that people were getting tired and piling out. Your cheeks hurt from laughing so much and your throat was sore from the amount that you’d spoken to Alfie. Currently, you were curled up, half in his lap with your head nestled in the crook of his neck as he rubbed your arm. He hadn’t moved a muscle other than the light stroking from his fingertips. The minutes went by so quickly and you hated it. You could’ve spent forever in his arms.

When you felt him begin to shift, you were caught off guard when he slid his arms under your form and smoothly pulled you into his lap. Ushering you in closer, he assumed you were asleep. You shut your eyes and played along, knowing that if you were awake, he most likely wouldn’t hold you this way. When he had pulled his coat on and grasped his cane, he ushered for the bartender to come over. “Take this-“ he handed the man the cane. “to the car outside.” Alfie stood swiftly, cradling your slumbering form to his chest. Moving through the restaurant and out of the building, he gazed down at your features, ignoring the warmth that spread throughout his stomach. Surely he couldn’t feel that strongly for you yet?

When the two of you climbed into the car and set off toward his house, you pretended to wake. Stretching in his arms, you yawned quietly, shimmering eyes sliding between his own. He flushed a charming shade of red before he pushed your hair out of your eyes and tilted his head. “You was fucking asleep, wasn’t you?” You didn’t answer. Giggling into his shoulder, you snuggled back up. The ride to his home was bumpy and Alfie would swear everytime the little cart juggled his body too hard. When the two of you arrived at his home, he looked down at you. “Are you asleep now, pet, or are you just wanting me to fucking carry you?” You lifted your head, knowing he had a limp. You didn’t want to make it worse. “I’m awake.” You nodded before climbing out of his lap and following him out of the car. His yard was rather big and his house was a very nice size. The man used his cane to guide him along the dark path and up to his front door. Clutching on to his hand as he blindly searched for yours, he pushed the door open and instantly halted Cyril from jumping up on you. “Easy boy, be fucking gentle with her, she’s not an animal like me.” You cocked a brow before leaning up and kissing his cheek. Pulling off your thin shawl, you hung it before kneeling down to pet the mutt. “Hello, handsome.” You cooed before kissing the pup’s head. Alfie watched you in awe before he set his hand on the back of your neck, brushing his fingers along your skin slowly. You winced, shrinking back slightly. The man eyed you in confusion, silently asking you with his gaze what was wrong. You stood back up when he didn’t look away and gently placed your fingers on your throat. “It’s uh.. still sore from yesterday.” You admitted. “With the guy and-“ Alfie shook his head. He didn’t need you to go into detail. “Let me see.”

He approached you, discarding his cane on the table. His fingers lifted to push your hair out of the way, earth-colored eyes scanning your injuries. “Fucking hell, Y/N, I would’ve done a lot worse than break his nose if I would’ve known he had his fucking hands around your throat.” Stroking your bruises, he leaned in and pressed little kisses to the purple marks. He was upset with himself that he hadn’t noticed them earlier, but he promised himself that he would make that up to you now by peppering your skin with little kisses. You tilted your head back to give him more area to kiss, eyes fluttering shut. “Oh, Alfie.” You whispered breathily before moving your small hand to the back of his neck. Your nails scraped along the ends of his hair and your mouth fell open as he gave you more attention than any man ever had. “You know what you’re doing.” You whispered hotly, tugging him even closer to you. As his kisses changed from pecks to lingering pecks, you knew, especially when his tongue joined in worshiping your throat, that things were going to get heated and fast. Your droopy eyes opened, peering down at him before you licked your lips. “A-Alfie.” Your voice sounded more like a moan than a command, so he continued. He moved his kisses south, only pausing when he reached your breasts. You waited, wanting to see what his next move would be. You didn’t know if you were relieved or disappointed when they moved back up and to your lips. “I want you.” He told you firmly. “I do. I want you so fucking bad, but I think, right, if I’m trying to impress you, it’s probably not wise to fuck you on our first date, innit?” Your eyes slid between his slowly. Knowing that if you made him wait, the tension would build and he’d be so eager for you, you nodded. “I think if we wait just a while longer, that’ll show that we are interested in each other and not just sex.” Your breaths were heavy and he was enraptured by them.

When he finally distanced himself from you, he figured it would be wise to head to bed since it was very late and he didn’t want you to be tired at the distillery in the morning. “Come on, pet. Bedtime.” He led you toward the stairs and up to the rather lengthy corridor. “Right, you can sleep in here.” He opened a door that led to a large bedroom. In the center of the room was an oversized bed. The duvet was a soft blue-grey and the drapes in the corner were white. You hadn't envisioned this. Smiling slowly, you moved into the room and sat down on the edge of the bed. “Its really nice, Alfie thank you.” You ran your fingers along the fabric slowly before leaning back against the pillows and watching him. “Do you need a shirt to sleep in?” He asked quietly, eyes flickering along your features. He left anyway and shortly returned with one of his large, long-sleeved shirts. Handing it to you, he leaned down and kissed you softly. “I’m right across the hall if you need me, alright? Don’t hesitate. You’re more than fucking welcome in there.” And with that, he kissed you once more before moving off to bed.

Three hours had gone by and you were laying in bed, wide awake. You stared up at the ceiling, watching the shadows from the trees outside dance along the walls. It was storming. It wasn’t just a soft pitter-patter of rain against the window, no, this rain hit the glass as if it were bullets, trying to shatter it. It had been lightening for a while and you were afraid that the thunder would start soon. Holding your breath, you looked to the window and whimpered as the roaring occurred. Plugging your ears didn’t help and neither did burying yourself beneath the comforter so you did the only thing you could do. Your feet tapped lightly against the wooden floor as you tiptoed across the hall and into Alfie’s room. Tapping your knuckles gently against the door, you pushed it open quietly. Alfie was sprawled out on the mattress with his sheet around his waist and his bare chest illuminated by the moonlight. “A-Alfie.” You whispered quietly. He didn’t budge. “Mr. Solomons.” You tried again. Groaning gently, the thunder boomed loudly and you had no control over yourself as you scurried across the room and to Alfie’s side. Climbing on to the bed, the jolting from your weight woke the man. He looked at you in confusion, arm folding beneath his head before he realized it was just you. “Fucking hell, you scared the devil out of me.” He muttered, head turning to the side and eyes falling shut. You whimpered softly before moving closer. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.” You whispered softly, hand moving to his stomach.

The man’s skin burned beneath your touch. He opened his eyes and looked over to you. “There’s nothing to be sorry for, pet. It’s the storm, innit? The storm’s got you all rattled and needing good ol’ Alfie to protect you?” You hummed in response, “something like that..” now finding comfort in his bed with him, you grew instantly sleepy. Moving your face to his chest, you locked your leg around his hip and silently hoped that he was a cuddly sleeper. He merely pulled you closer when you wrapped your limbs around him and then pressed a kiss to your head. He moved his hand south and laid his palm on your thigh, rubbing it lazily. You were asleep in minutes, listening intently to the beating of his heart opposed to the loud roar of the rain and the thunder that followed along with the storm. Alfie was warm and he was very comfy to lay on. His fingers were soothing as they traced the revealed skin that his shirt didn’t cover. The shirt of his that you wore had rolled up to your hips, but he guided it back down and into its proper position, listening to your breaths before he fell into his own state of oblivion. Alfie Solomons was definitely falling for you. And he was falling for you fast.

___

TAGGED: @thatsamegirl @peakyhoegh @ihclipse @callisen

@hardygal69 @centerhabit @lucacangettathisass

Part 1 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

#tom hardy fic #tom hardy x reader #tom hardy imagine #tom hardy #peaky blinders #alfie solomons fic #alfie solomons x reader #james and alfie solomons are my weaknesses #alfie solomons #alfie solomons imagine #alfie imagines #gif #gifs #imagine #fic #fanfic #The Baker #The Baker Part 2 #part 2

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cloudbeom · 5 years

Text

A Garden of Stars (Prologue)

warnings: /

Genre: slow burn, friends to lovers/one sided love au (depends on the ending i guess :’)), high school au, angst

Summary : The only problem with falling in love is you didn't choose to

A/n: Soooo, here is the first part! I recommend listening to I like me better by Lauv while reading! Enjoy!

"We're going to be late!" Your older sister Selene yelled when you just finished brushing your teeth, you just rolled your eyes instead of replying her, knowing it was just to meet up with her boyfriend. And mom wouldn't let her go out unless you were with her all times until you reached school.

"I'm coming!" You replied, "Asshole"

"I HEARD THAT!"

"I WANTED YOU TO HEAR IT!" you yelled again, grabbing the jacket on your chair and hanging your schoolbag loosely around your shoulder. You looked at yourself in the mirror and sighed.

It's just another day of school.

And as usual, you went downstairs and said goodbye to your parents, and walked out with Selene to be greeted with harsh sunlight, so you cover your eyes with your arm.

"Why is it so sunny today?" You asked, and finding that your sister was squealing and running into Hoseok- her boyfriend's- arms. And you just rolled your eyes for the second time, but stopped when Hoseok started to laughed

"Good morning (Y/n)!"

"Morning" You smiled at him, not nearly matching his. But your sister had different plans when she pampered his face with kisses, and he hugged her waist, smiling like it was their wedding day. "I'll just go to school on my own" you stated, not wanting to watch her kissing him for a second longer, Hoseok, wanting to reply, was cut off by a kiss on his lips, and you turned your heel.

He's cute and I hate that, I hate his sunshine smile, and I hate how he's so nice, and I hate that he belongs to my sister.

You plugged in your ear piece, wanting to listen to music on your way. And as you clicked shuffle on your playlist, I like me by Lauv came on.

You smiled lazily and clicked on the Instagram post Jimin had updated and tagged you of him in the empty theater, looking so fucking aesthetic. You remembered that you were helping him read his scripts, and he had asked you to take that photo of him, and he had apparently posted it and tagged you as his "Best photographer" and now your Instagram was blowing up with followers.

The lead actor of the school, the hottest model for Instagram, the most adorable classmate, was a great person, but he's in the school's 'I want to date him bc he's so popular but not a bitch' list, so just being his friend is risky.

Apparently, he had also tagged Jin, the film and photography director of our school. The person who you loved to annoy with your best friend, by making fart noises when he was recording, and it would always make Jimin burst to laughter and forget his lines.

He was so much more handsome than he claimed to be, and he was talented as fuck. His laugh is adorable, and he could literally step on me. But he already had a girlfriend, and his girlfriend was so nice you ended up being friends with her when you wanted to pry his sex life out of her. I know, I didn't know what I was thinking either

As you commented on his picture, you received a message, and you clicked on it fast, realizing Yoongi had sent you a piece he was working on. And you smiled, remembering how he and you met online when you wanted to find a tutor for piano lessons, and found someone your age instead, and immediately became friends. He wasn't from your school, but you seen him in pictures before, and all you wanted was to kiss his gummy smiles.

Is it love at first sight? Why is he so adorable! And he's a pianist too! I never even met him! Ugh, what is wrong with me!!

You passed a couple that was walking by the park, and you smiled at the girl, who smiled back at you. Your phone in hand and eyes trained to the road, looking left and right for cars, and as the train above you passed and no cars were in sight, your crossed the road, a skip in your step when you saw an old man and a dog doing the same as you, stopping only to bow politely at him.

You crossed the sidewalk safely, only to forget every damn time that a curb was there, and you stumbled a little, already being used to it, you just laughed it off. Getting up to run back to your normal pace, your school not further and not wanting to catch up with Selene and Hoseok.

You remembered the first time you fell on that curb, Namjoon, who had been sitting on the bench at the park, saw you and dashed to you immediately, abandoning his notes and papers that looked like sheets of music on the bench, and helping you up, asking if you were okay. You guys hit it off right then and there, you learned that he was a senior in your school, and he wanted to produce music. You also learned that he was not looking for a relationship, after he told you that he had not planned on staying, but instead wanted to move as soon as he graduated, to find a chance to be a musician.

He was adorable, his hair was always stuck in places, and I loved running my fingers through them, with the reason I wanted to fix it. I love poking his dimples, and I love forgetting that there is a motherfucking curb after school because he was always there, and ever since then, I know who to rely on when I'm down. But only for now, because sadly, he's moving after graduation.

You ran into birds that flew away as always when you ran to them, they had always occupied the fountain there. The birds had flew away faster ever since that day you were playing soccer with Taehyung.

I mean, you had told him playing soccer at a public place was a bad idea. But he insisted on teaching you a so called power move he made, and you couldn't just say no. So as the good friend you were, you and him ended up in the park, playing soccer, and when he tried to show me the power move, he had kicked too hard and the ball literally hit one of the pigeons at the fountain, and you didn't want to say it died, but it did scare the others away big time, and since then the birds there was really quick on their feathers. Plus, Tae had bought you ice cream as an apology!

He was hot, no kidding. Captain of the soccer team? Loved by everyone at campus? so it was not impossible for me to fall in love with him too! But you know what's the dual combo for loved soccer captain? Cute cheerleader in pigtails. And that's just it. There goes my chances. I might as well start working out and learn gymnastics.

You laughed at the memory of it all. And finally, you had reached school after safely walking the crossroad of busy teenagers on their phones or with their significant others, or best friends.

You arrived at campus earlier than expected and the bell wont ring for a few more minutes. So you just went to your usual hiding space, thinking of all the cliché memories of you writing those seven love letters.

Oh? There were only six stated? Well, that can't be right... because..

"(Y/n)! Get your ass over here quick!"

You turned and smiled, seeing Jeon Jeongguk walk up to you, his hair and jacket practically swaying in the wind, as what looked like a phone was in his hands, and a smiled played his lips. His eyes glistening with the morning sun, showing that he woke up on the right side of bed.

"Where have you been? I've been waiting since ass crack of dawn!" He laughed and shoved his phone in your face "Look at this, look at this! IU posted a new photo! Look at this (Y/n)! Are you looking!?" You laughed when he was trying to grab your body from falling into the grass because you were trying to walk backwards. "You did not come here at ass crack of dawn"

"You're not seeing it!"

"Okay give it to me" You said, grabbing his phone and looking at the picture of IU, the sweetheart of campus. The lead choir and the best singer of the whole high school. You scrunched your nose, and immediately deleted it, falling backwards on the soft grass so he couldn't prevent you from not deleting it.

"(Y/n)!!!" Jungkook panicked, and you couldn't help but laugh at how worried he was. "Why did you do that?" He pouted, lying on the grass next to you, and wrapping his arm around your shoulder as sounds of students chattering filled both of your ears, and he immediately took his phone back.

"Because she isn't good for you. She has a boyfriend Guk, are you crazy? Keeping a picture of her? What would her boyfriend say?"

"Why would he care?" he pouted more, sticking his bottom lip out. And you stood, placing a hand on your hip.

"Well, if I were your girlfriend, and Tae Tae had a picture of me, what would you do?" you asked, and he looked up at you.

"Good point" he laughed, then stood next to you, just as the bell rang "But you my best friend, so unless Tae Tae likes you, It's just creepy" he said, laughing "And there goes the bell. Wait for me after class okay?" You nodded "You tell me that every day Jungkook"

"I just don't want you to bail on me!" he said, then he turned to the back door "I'm going to go now! Don't wanna be late on this normal boring day! Bye best friend!" He kissed your cheek, like you always did, then left.

And that's the problem. With Jeon Jungkook. Your best friend. And the person your currently in love with

10 notes · View notes

fictionalarsonist · 6 years

Text

ANOMIE: Children of Anarchism - Prologue (Re-vamped Ver.)

— ANOMIE: a condition of instability resulting from a breakdown of standards and values or from a lack of purpose or ideals. — anarchism: a theory that advocates a society based on voluntary cooperation and free association of individuals and groups.

feat artists: bts (ot7), ocs content: angst, fluff, gang au, mature language, smoking, drinking, murder, character death, violence, blood, implied non-con, drugs, mentions of anxiety rating: PG-15 type: fanfic word count: 4K

premise: A story of a group of young men that despite the different background and hardships they come together as friends, discovering a new way to survive in a world that seem to turn its back on them.

...

a/n: I know the original prologue had major problems, specially bc it was written ages ago. So, here it is, a re-vamped version w/out major changes on the story. Huge thanks to @wenotes for helping me out w this! You’re amazing and I love you! I can’t thank you enough. (May, 29th, 2018)

「 mobile m.list | ask/request | wip 」

[ prologue | chapter I | chapter II | chapter III | work in progress ]

“It’s okay to be a little broken.

Everyone tries to hide it, but in all honesty, we’re all somewhat broken. Pained or not, there’s no one who’s more or less than others and being the individuals we are there isn’t a common point for comparison in that matter. It’s never the same.”

The streets are empty, including the highway. Only a few cars rushes by here and there with their high beam lights trying to show the way through the early morning fog darkness. The cloudy, dark sky and the icy, cold wind that makes the skin sting just from touch alone is about the same as being out in snowy weather.

In this scenario, no one would expect to see the figure of a slender boy walking along the highway, the poor lights on the sidewalk not being enough to see any distinguishing feature, but, aside from him and the random cars mindlessly passing by, there is no one else around. He didn’t seem worried about wandering around so early in the morning when the sun hasn’t even shown itself yet. Why would he, really? This a route he always takes. It’s his routine.

There isn’t sound from the last car that had passed by, nor any sight that another was coming. At the moment there isn’t even the sound of early morning birds yet as it’s much too early, even for them. Only the sound of the wind buzzing by any unprotected ear and the sounds of footsteps from the only figure of that boy walking by, echoing along the road that seemed to be as abandoned and as shadowy as a ghost town.

It’s a long way home, but Taehyung didn’t bother hurrying his pace, not even the stingy sensation of the ice cold wind on his skin bothered him that much. He simply pulls his hoodie over his head, partially hiding his face and protecting his ears the best he can from the buzzing sound of the wind. He pulls the zipper of his hoodie up just enough to feel a little warmer and the jacket he's wearing over his hoodie tighter against his body before shoving one of his hands inside the pocket of the said jacket, letting out a tired yawn - the side effect of a tired body that has been up all night.

That’s something Taehyung's used to. He has been working at many night jobs for too long and his body is somewhat used to it by now. Out of habit, he pulls his hair over his face a little more, hiding himself behind his fringe. His thumb and index fingers slide down to press over his tightly shut eyelids for a moment before scratching the bridge of his nose because the cold wind stings the skin there, then his hands are back in the pocket of his hoodie again. Both of his hands are protected from the cold, curled into fists inside the pockets, maintaining his jacket close to his body.

Just in case you might still be wondering, Kim Taehyung is the name of that boy. Except, he’s not exactly a boy anymore. He’ll be 22 years old soon, but for him that isn’t anything special like it is for most other people. To Taehyung another birthday means the same as the days for a convicted felon in prison do. The difference between him and such a person is not the barred windows and limited freedom, but the simple reason that there's nothing for Taehyung to look forward to. The silence surrounding him is decreasing as the sound of birds became more evident.

The sky is now a somewhat grayish color, a few hints of shades of blue that managed to be shown between the clouds as the dawn announces the morning. Taehyung takes his usual shortcut through an alley between two abandoned buildings, and as always, there’s that man sleeping in a cardboard and plastic improvised tent. The sound of the man’s snores are louder than the now distant singing birds and take over the alley so that Taehyung’s firm steps are the only sounds here.

A part of the city is being left behind him as Taehyung steps out of the alley and into another street as if the city is split in two different dimensions. Compared to the one behind him, this one is more modest and simple and, from then, it doesn’t take much time for Taehyung to reach the apartment building. There isn’t anything special about this particular place. Inside and out, the building doesn’t have any painting except for the graffiti the local reckless kids make every now and then and the landlord had given up in covering them even before Taehyung moved in. The walls are all simple cement and the few apartments that have any paint on have been carelessly left without any maintenance for too long. There are lots of scrapings and the color is barely seen over the parts of the wall that seems to be falling apart - that’s where Taehyung lives.

Even before reaching the small flight of stairs that lead him inside, a few drops of rain fall and rapidly the count increases. The sky turns dark and Taehyung jumps over the flight of stairs, straight to the building’s entrance, pushing open the gate. He simply ignores the high pitched creaking sound of the rusted hinges and doesn’t bother closing the gate again.

Being inside the building doesn’t mean he is safe from the rain though. The village-like building doesn’t protect the apartments from rain. There is only a half wall on each floor that protects people from any accidents, but nothing else aside from that.

The stairway is the only place, aside from the apartments, that could serve as protection from the rain and Taehyung hurries to reach them.

“Hey! You!” The loud and brusque voice resonates across the building. “Kid, come here!”

Taehyung is already halfway up the flight of stairs to the first floor, but turns around to look at the man who quickly runs up to him and stops right beside him. The man is shivering, wearing only pajamas under the long, padded coat that he hugs tightly against his body. His bed hair and the scrunched face tell him that the man had just woken up not too long before coming out. Taehyung notices his feet curled against each other as the man tries to keep them warm. Taehyung’s eyes then flicker up to look at the man’s face and even though they are on the same step, the man is shorter than him. This man is the landlord, a very unpleasant and antipathetic man.

“You~ The due date to pay your rent is in two weeks, don’t forget!” The man says in a hypercritical tone, looking up and down the boy in front of him.

“I know.” Taehyung holds a very monotone, yet somehow, polite voice while answering the landlord.

“Don’t think that just because you’re some kid that I’ll let you off if you don’t pay on time.”

“You don’t have to worry about that. I always pay on time.” By the end of his phrase, Taehyung is already turning to leave. The landlord takes a few seconds before he’s able to say something else.

“You’re the one who fixed the heating engine problem last time, right?” The landlord asks with uncertainty, almost as if he’s already regretting what he’s doing.

Taehyung sighs, licking the corner of his lips before turning just enough to see the man standing in the place he left him. For a second or two, Taehyung only frowns, looking at the man with slitted eyes.

“Yes.” He replies after a while.

The landlord hurries to where Taehyung’s standing while he simply stands there, following the man’s every movement with his eyes.

“Fix it again.” The man pants out as soon as he reaches Taehyung.

When the man blows out air through his mouth, Taehyung could smell the man’s bad breath and scrunches his nose, looking away and breathing fresh air in before looking at the man again.

“All right. I don’t believe anything has changed, so the price will be the same.” He states in the most simplistic way, shifting the weight on his feet.

“What?”

The landlord is slightly taken aback after hearing what Taehyung added, but recovers soon enough, let out a mocking, airy chuckle and the bad smell hit Taehyung again. His hand meets the uncomfortable icy, cold air after having been warm inside the pocket of his jacket to cover his nose and mouth, pretending to scratch his nose and look away again, this time as a cover for the disgusted expression on his face.

“You’re gonna charge me for this?” The man continues in disbelief, with a pretentious smirk. “You live here too~” He drags on the last vowel in a sing-song tone, as if to provoke Taehyung and persuade him at the same time. “If it gets cold in the apartments, yours is gonna be one of the worst. You’re gonna suffer too.”

Taehyung shrugged mindlessly in response, looking back at the older man, tilting his head a little.

“I don’t stick around the apartment more than necessary,” he starts to reason vaguely, his tone void of any importance he could give to the reasoning the landlord tried to inflict on him. “Whatever it happens, I can arrange myself just fine. You’re the one who will have to deal with the others tenants and their complaints.”

Holding his head up straight again, Taehyun tucks his hand inside the pocket of his jacket, looking in the man’s eyes even though his hair still partially covers his vision.

“My price is also much lower than any handyman would charge for what it has to be done. They’d probably make something else up to charge even more for their services.”

“How do I know you’re not gonna do the same?” The man asks, giving Taehyung a glare from the side.

“I don’t have the time to waste doing such thing.” Taehyung replies sharply and the man chuckles again.

“As if a useless kid like yourself would do anything else but to just party all night like this.” The man mumbles under his breath before clicking his tongue way louder than necessary. “All right.” He agrees, even though his tone shows how reluctant he is feeling about it. “You can discount the money from the rent,” he says, being pretentious again. “That’s what would’ve had happened anyway. I want it done by the end of the week, then. You better not delay it.” Taehyung only stares at the man who looks away, a little frightened.

Taehyung stares at the man who looks away, not bothering to reply at the insinuation and only turns around on his heels to take his way upstairs again when the man who stuttered a little calls him over again.

“Yo-You! Be careful with the red paint from the apartment on your floor, some loanshark made a mess, don’t get the place dirty! HUH!!”

Taehyung listens to him, but doesn’t bother turning around to look at the man who walks back to his apartment, mumbling something incoherent that Taehyung could care less about as he jump over the stairs, making his way to his apartment.

In no time Taehyung reaches the level of the apartment he lives on and indeed, on his way towards it, there is one apartment with paint buckets on the floor while the wall and surroundings are carelessly painted red. He jumps over the paint splattered on the floor and keeps on his way, his hand switching from the pocket of his jacket to the front pocket of his pants to grab his key. A small, heavy and old pendant dangles from his hand while he unlocks the door to the small apartment.

Once inside he makes sure to lock the door behind him. The sound of the heavy rain outside now isn’t all that violent, muffled by the walls, but the walls aren’t enough to give enough warmth. The landlord was right, his apartment is one of the cheapest and one of the reasons for it is the very poor heating system. Now that the engine in the basement is broken, Taehyung has no heating at all.

He takes off his shoes, but leaves his socks on before slipping his feet in a pair of slippers and stepping into his apartment. It’s dark and Taehyung doesn’t turn on the light, his eyes quickly adjusting to the different lighting and the ambience as he pulls the zipper of his hoodie all the way up, doing the same with his jacket right after. While making his way inside the small room, he sneezes involuntarily, sniffing a couple of times right after.

It’s a very small apartment. Following the small entrance, where Taehyung leave his shoes at, there is a small room that’s supposed to serve as a living room, but obviously is far from such a thing since it can barely accommodate two people at a time. A line serves as the border for the kitchen right next to it and across from it there is a sliding door that separates the next room which is as small as the first one, not enough to have a proper bed in even though it is supposed to be the bedroom. Right beside that there’s a narrow entrance with a closed door that once one opens it, reveals the small restroom.

Taehyung doesn’t feel the need to have more than that, looking around the place it is rather obvious that most of the furniture belongs to the house except for a few things like that old fashioned TV above a stool that isn’t even plugged in, the forgotten fan on a corner also unplugged, useless in this current kind of weather, and inside the cabinets, aside from the food, there are only a few utensils. Taehyung only has what he needs to get by so he doesn’t require much space and he doesn’t feel the need to have much more than that.

Making his way past the living room, he walks straight to the kitchen and searches inside the apartment’s cabinets until he finds what he’s looking for: a package of instant spicy ramen. He proceeds to make his food and soon enough it is ready. He leaves the steaming food beside the sink to let it cool for a while and makes his way to his bedroom. He slides the door open and it makes a squeaking sound, but it also doesn’t open all the way and, knowing that, Taehyung doesn’t force it to. He walks into the bedroom and turns on the light, setting up his mattress on the floor along with his pillows and sheets before walking back to the living room. He places the TV on the floor and carries the stool to the kitchen where he leaves it in the middle of the room. He fishes for a screwdriver inside one of the drawers in the kitchen before stepping on the stool.

Even though he’s tall, he needs that stool to reach the lamp dome above. Taehyung detaches the dome from the ceiling carefully to find a small bag containing money inside the gap in the ceiling. He takes the small bag out and attaches the lamp dome again, making sure the it won’t accidentally fall.

Placing the stool back in the living room and the TV on it like before, he takes the small bag along with his food and chopsticks back to his room, sitting down on his mattress. He makes himself comfortable, taking the lid off the pot and the scent of the food makes him smiles to himself. He licks his lips, biting down on his lower lip as his stomach growls in protest. Taehyung can’t avoid loudly gulping down the saliva that keeps pooling in his mouth, waiting for the food that is still steaming hot. He mixes it around, blows on it to try and cool down the noodles as much as he can, but in the end he shoves a big amount of it in his mouth, not being able to wait much longer to eat. It’s no surprise that he can’t seem to stay still as he tries to chew on the steaming, hot food in his mouth. Taekhyun hisses and blows air out, raising his head and moving the food in his mouth while trying to chew on it, but it still takes quite a while for him to swallow the noodles down. He runs to the fridge in his kitchen and pulls out a big bottle of water from it, hurriedly taking the lid off and starts drinking the water in big gulps, stopping abruptly to cough.

Taehyung takes the bottle with him back to his room and this time he decides to let the food cool down a little more. Placing the bottle of water aside as well, Taehyung now focuses his attention on the small bag filled with his money next to his pillow, he opens and takes the money from it, placing it in one small pile on the mattress. Shriveled notes and a small amount of coins gets separated by him as he starts to count them.

Dividing his time between eating and counting the money, Taehyung carefully divides the money, separating what he’s supposed to pay the landlord, discounting the money he would charge to fix the heating system later on that week, and leaving a small amount to be left in his wallet. The rest is put away. He leaves the money matter aside to focus on his food and shoves a huge amount of noodles into his mouth, having a hard time chewing on it. He pulls an old-fashioned phone from his pocket and stops chewing for a while as he types a message out with one of his hands.

He remembers to chew again while typing and sending the text, throwing the phone beside him. Taehyung doesn’t give himself much time between swallowing and shoving more food in his mouth, but he take turns between those to drink water, finding a more comfortable position by leaning his back against the pillow propped up behind him. He pulls the pot containing his food onto his lap, eating comfortably until his phone buzzes. He pulls himself out of his comfortable spot to reach for the phone and read the message.

seventy bucks for the job 8:30pm

He quickly types an “Okay” and presses send before leaving the phone aside, remembering to chew the food forgotten in his mouth as he reaches for the bottle of water again. Taehyung coughs, feeling his throat hurt a little for eating so hurriedly, but he ignores it, taking more food into his mouth. A loud bang makes him freeze, the hand holding his chopsticks midway to his mouth as his eyes shoot up towards the wall across from him where the sound came from.

Taehyung feels his throat tighten up, his heartbeat increasing with adrenaline pumping so rapidly into his system that he barely has time to adjust to the sudden increase of the said hormone in his body. He can feel his pupils dilate, but instead of moving, instead of doing something, he just stands there, his body frozen. And it doesn’t matter how much he wants to, his body refuses to move at all costs, like a dog who is told to hold still when all he wants is to attack.

A moment of silence and then the same noise again, louder this time. It seems like it is against the wall that separates his apartment from his neighbor’s. Now the sound is followed by several things falling everywhere, sounds of things breaking, loud voices, screams, curses, cries and things Taehyung doesn’t want to picture. He knows fairly well what it means, his body jolts forward a little, some, a fire spreads in his veins, but he feels himself being pulled back, restrained by invisible arms. His eyes sting when he refuses to blink, tasting the bitterness of every sound that echoes, there is a high pitched ringing in his ears and he doesn’t realize he is panting until he feels the need to gulp down harshly. The chopsticks have fallen in the pot with the noodles it was holding and the pot tilts on his lap about to fall, but Taehyung doesn’t pay any mind to it.

There is another moment of silence and he tries to relax, to sit back like before. His shaky hands grab the pot on his lap and places it on the mattress. All of a sudden another loud noise ringing out and this particular one can be heard by the whole building, no doubt. It is louder than the rain falling outside, practically deafening. This one makes Taehyung’s hand hold the sheets below him tightly as a reflex, as a second nature. He presses his back against the pillow behind him as if he wants to be swallowed by the wall behind it.

A loud cry, loud pleas, screams and curses, and beating, the sound of someone falling, things being thrown around and the back of Taehyung’s head hits the wall behind him in such a way it gives him a headache. His hands fly to tightly grab the fabric of his pants, his knuckles pale from the force he’s holding onto them. his nails scratch the material, his eyelids shut tight.

“You look at me! You bitch!” The loud, male voice comes from the other apartment and when suddenly all the sounds are momentarily silenced again, Taehyung’s eyes fly open in a second to look at the wall across from him, taking in a sharp breath as he licks his now dry lips.

There is a loud incoherent conversation and Taehyung looks around his own apartment and forces himself to stand up. His body is shaking and he doesn’t know how to act as himself. He wants to do something, he could do something, but would it be the right thing to do? Would she accept his help?

Without realizing what he’s doing Taehyung finds himself reaching for the key to the door, gripping onto the pedant and holding tightly onto the doorknob of the front door, but as fast as it started the sound vanishes, for good, and that silence is enough to make him wake up from his trance. Taehyung pushes the door closed once again - he hadn’t even known he had opened it - and slowly feels his body relax, a long breath escaping past his lips and his vision turns dark for a brief second as his body goes back to normal.

After locking the door, he returns to the bedroom and sits on the mattress. He licks his lips and stares persistently at the remaining food in the pot, but he has lost his appetite and can’t bring himself to eat anymore so he puts the lid on the pot and takes it to the fridge along with the water. He also takes his time to hide his money back in its place, having a harder time with the screwdriver this time because his hands are still trembling a little and he hates it. When he goes back to the bedroom, Taehyung lies down on his back, the door shut and the place in complete darkness.

One of his arms is over his pillow and underneath his head. He’s really tired, but his eyes refuse to shut so he fights it, an unpleasant lingering feeling making him feel like he can’t let himself sleep. He just stares at the ceiling for what seems like hours until the tiredness takes over his body. The feeling of sand in his eyes, no matter how much he rubs them, won’t go away and his body forces him into a more comfortable position as he cuddles into his sheets in a way that would make him feel warmer. Finally, his eyelids are too heavy, his thoughts becoming more abstract and confusing before he’s drifting away to the back of his mind and for the time that he’s asleep, they disappear.

Chapter I - A New Bitter Day ⇾

33 notes · View notes

sept-dix · 7 years

Text

college au! park jihoon

summary: college au! park jihoon, you have the biggest crush on him and you don’t know how to deal with it a/n: requested; tell me what you think!!

you meet jihoon during orientation week in your new university

your school splits all freshmen students into their orientation groups based off the faculty they’re from & you guys spend one whole week bonding over all sorts of games and activities and camps and seminars and all that fun stuff

you do make some new friends but each group has like 30 people so you don’t even bother trying to remember everyone’s names and faces right away

which is why you are completely unaware that there is a walking male god among you guys who goes by the name of jihoon

on the second day, after a few hours of everyone playing water games and messing around with all the props and creating an absolute mess, you are tasked with the duty of washing out and refilling one of the big buckets you guys had used

your friends offer to help you but you’re like nah i got this

but once you’re at the tap you’re like wtf? i need to use two hands to handle the bucket but i need a third hand to hold down the tap? you’re a mess

and just as you’re struggling suddenly there’s an arm extending over you to the tap to hold it down for you

and you follow the hand to see that it leads to a boy who is extremely good looking

“no worries i got you”

and he just stands there holding the tap for you and watching you hastily rinse out the bucket and refill it

and you’re super flustered but touched because this boy is super super SUPER good looking and you have no idea how you didn’t notice him before but also he’s being super nice

as if holding down the tap for you wasn’t enough he even offers to carry the heavy bucket back

and you’re already halfway in love by the time you’re back with your group lmao

so you spend the rest of orientation admiring him from afar because you’re too shy to go and actually talk to him but also

you’ve never seen a face as perfect as his??? his eyes are literally angelic and his nose is so high and perfectly shaped and his skin is glowing and you’re just ksjsddsf

anyways orientation week ends like that and actual uni life starts

tbh you’d expected this but barely a month into uni and jihoon is already so popular like everyone knows park jihoon from the business school who has a face carved by the gods themselves and a personality to match

now and then when you bump into him around campus he always smiles at you in way of saying hi because he remembers you from orientation and it’s such a small thing but everytime he does it you’re a mess for a solid 10 mins afterwards

one day you’re having lunch in the garden cafeteria with your roommate doyeon when she catches you making heart eyes at jihoon who’s sitting a couple of tables away from you two

“oh my god, dude. jihoon???”

and you try to feign innocence and you’re all like “what do you mean”

because it’s kinda embarrassing to admit you have a crush on The Jihoon because like?? so does everyone else

but doyeon sees right through you and she knows exactly how to get you to admit to it

“seems like you don’t know but i know jihoon. he’s in my dance club yknow just saying”

“WHAT”

“yeah, i was going to introduce you if you were interested but since you say you’re not... oh well”

“i mean i’m not not interested! even if i’m not interested there’s no harm in making new friends and even if i’m interested- wait i’m not but-”

doyeon just smirks at the spluttering mess you are

over the next few days, doyeon keeps coming up with new ways in which you could ‘accidentally’ meet jihoon (bc you’re too embarrassed to let her just introduce you to him like that) but you reject them all

until one day she barges into your room and slams a piece of paper onto the table in front of you

“this is it. this is the only way”

the paper has an advertisement for a creative discussion club and you’re like WHAT what does this even mean???

“idk but jihoon’s gonna be there and so are you”

so flash forward to wednesday a week later and you find yourself in this seminar room

there are about a dozen others already there and among them is jihoon

you take a seat at his opposite side of the room bc u sneaky

so basically this club is just for people to like talk about current issues or long ongoing problems like poverty or racism

it’s just a safe place to share opinions and spread awareness and stuff like that and of course jihoon is perfect enough to be interested in these kind of things

initially you start out as a pretty silent member, just watching the others talk and admiring jihoon

surprisingly so is jihoon, he mostly just listens to what the others have to say and pipes in an opinion now and then

but as time passes you find yourself naturally speaking up and getting actively engaged in the discussions

as the topics turn to issues that you genuinely feel for, or when someone expresses a thought that you just can’t agree with because it seems to come from a place of ignorance, you start forgetting your initial purpose in joining the club and start genuinely enjoying the meetings

this is also when jihoon starts to notice you

little do you know that everytime you speak up during discussions and passionately argue your stance during discussions, jihoon is watching you from the other side of the room thinking

damn that’s impressive

he also thinks you’re really cute but you don’t find that out until one day when doyeon barges into your room once again

“omgomgomgomgomg”

“doyeon? what is it?”

“y/n. i am so proud of you”

“... what did i do”

“ok so we were just taking a short break during dance today when i saw jihoon and woojin whispering to each other? and they kept kinda glancing over at me so i went and asked them what’s up and oh my god. i am so happy for you because jihoon wants your number”

“im sorry WHAT”

apparently he had seen doyeon hanging with you around school and since according to him, you never acknowledged his existence except for the occasional smile and wave, he was wondering if doyeon could help him out here

bless doyeon

so the numbers get exchanged

and before long jihoon asks if you wanna go out for ice cream together

and one ice cream date turns into two and???

jihoon is amazing??? if you hadn’t already known you wouldn’t have guessed that this was a guy who was super popular and had like the whole school wishing they were his friend bc he’s so sweet

and funny

you guys have the same sense of humour and at least once during every date there’s a point where you guys are laughing til you’re crying

that’s not to say that sense of humour is normal though like there was this one time you two went on a double date with doyeon and a guy called seongwoo

and you guys are all super stuffed bc the food is really good like you’re filled with food and on the verge of death but after your main course ends like you can’t even move but seongwoo goes “hey what do you guys want for dessert?”

and jihoon just looks at you like you’re the camera and he’s the guy from the office and with a completely straight face says “the waffles with a double scoop of rocky road”

for some reason the situation cracks the two of you tf up and you guys are there laughing like actual seals while doyeon & seongwoo are just looking on like. omg wtf

(in case you’re curious doyeon & seongwoo never become an actual thing bc they’re too good of a combo as just friends)

one day you’re walking back to the dorms with jihoon after a creative discussion club meeting and you decide to stop by this streetside food stall to buy some chicken skewers bc yall are starving

the old lady behind the stall gives you guys one extra stick for free because “aww you two are such a cute couple i remember back when i used to roam around with my boyfriend” and she coos at you two

cue intense blushing from both of you which excites the old lady even more

but as you two are walking back after that jihoon turns to you and asks “so? what do you think?”

“yeah wow these skewers are really goo-”

“no not about that,, as in what do you think about me being your boyfriend?”

cue even more intense blushing

that’s how you two become official

tbh after that you two become one of The Campus Couples bc you two are really cute tgt

after a while you confess to him that you actually already used to like him since all the way back in orientation and that’s why you even joined the club

and he’s like “dammit why didn’t you tell me earlier we could have been a thing since day one” lmao

(doyeon takes all the credits for making your relationship happen btw)

#park jihoon #park jihoon scenarios #wanna one #wanna one scenarios #produce 101 #produce 101 scenarios #i hope no one realises that i'm too lazy to ever give these things a title lmao

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xmenimagine · 7 years

Text

Imagine: Roadworks.

Requested by Anon. Includes: Alex Summers x Reader. Request: • Can I please request Alex Summers taking female reader out on their first date after secretly being in love with her for ages? And it’s just super fluffy? If you’re taking requests.. and thank you so much! • Could you please, if you don’t mind do Peter or Alex falls in love with a widowed single mother with a 6 year old daughter with lots of fluff? Thank you so much! (I’m not sure if I’ve already sent this in or not 🙈)

Note: I haven’t been writing for a while bc of uni, but I managed to find time to write this. sorry if it's not exactly what you wanted, but I hope you enjoy it.

He was thankful that there was a diversion on his way to work that day. His usual commute to work consisted of walking passed the same replicated buildings with a white exterior, black doors, black windowsills, and black steps leading up to the doors, and the same neatly trimmed trees that were plotted every ten steps. Everything looked the same, and quite honestly, Alex was beginning to lose his sanity if he had to walk down the same road there and back with his thermos in his hand, his suit done up, his bag over his shoulder as he counted down the hours before he would eat his repetitive lunch of a sandwich, a piece of fruit, and another cup of coffee before he walked back into the building for another few hours before Cheryl, ultimately, like goddamn clockwork, came around and told him he had to work overtime. Oh, how he loathed Cheryl—the woman at the desk with the low-cut, designer shirts and tight pencil-skirts, with those black high heels, my god those heels that would do your head in, the constant clicking was almost as bad as the man next his desk who talked on his phone to his girlfriend in Mexico from the moment he sat down at his desk to the moment he got up and switched to his personal phone.

Alex sighed to himself loudly, pinching the bridge of his nose as he continued walking. The only thing he could stand on his way to work was the colours of the leaves, the ones that were changing to a deep red before they drifted to the ground, only to be picked up by the workers who came around every day to clean the roads. His long, blond hair was tied back, which he was thankful for as the wind wasn't forgiving, neither was Malcolm—the tech support guy who looked like a stereotypical character, with the hair gelled back, the ugly yellow button-up shirt tucked into his even uglier, not exactly brown but you know they are, brown pants that didn't fit the length of his lanky legs. It also didn't help that his glasses were thick-rimmed and the prescription was so strong that Alex had to bite back the comments that consisted of asking Malcolm if he just stuck two magnifying glasses to his face. He always had those two stupid pens in his shirt pocket, and somehow an entire maths set too. He also had a patterned tie designated to a certain day of the week. Alex wasn't a fan, but neither was Malcolm with Alex.

As he removed his hand away from his face he looked back up to the pavement and saw that, along the two pavements and road, there was a barrier. There were workers in bright orange helmets and vests with worker boots that stood around, Alex felt out of place in his three-piece suit and shiny, black, lace-up dress shoes. He paused, furrowing his eyebrows, in the middle of the pavement. One of the workers patted his colleague's shoulder and the other one turned around before he approached Alex.

"Sorry, Sir. Roadworks. Might take a few days, a week at most. It's pretty bad, but, uh, there's a road just down there,"—he pointed to Alex's right, towards a small road—"that you can take. Sorry for the inconvenience."

"No, that's uh," Alex started with a sigh, checking his watch, "I was going to be early anyway. Thanks for letting me know."

Before the man could say anything else, Alex continued down the smaller road. His go-to stress sign was running his hand through his hair, but he couldn't do that right now. Well, he could, but he'd look like he had a bird trapped in his hair, and he'd rather not give Malcolm something to comment on as he walked into the office. Alex was sure to deck Malcolm in the face the day he quit. Maybe put Cheryl in her place, tell her to get the stick out of her ass too while he was at it. But sadly, that day wasn't today. More stress piled on top of Alex when he turned out of the road and heard children yelling and playing. He was directed straight into a park, granted a well-kept and fairly spacious park.

On one side, the side that started at the back of the houses, was a flat grass area with a few benches towards the middle by the winding path, just opposite the colourful gated area where the children's playground was. Alex shifted the weight of his bag on his shoulder and walked down the path. He forced a smile at those that passed and offered him one, only really smiling at the dogs that walked passed with their owners, laughing to himself as their tails wagged faster. The grass area had a few dogs running around, their owners throwing frisbees and some teenagers huddled together smoking. He rolled his eyes at them. That shit will kill ya. He turned back, walking with his head up high, just waiting for the day to be over so he could go back home, order a pizza and side, maybe even a drink that wasn't coffee or beer, lounge in his sweats and old college hockey shirt, a game he still enjoys but no longer plays, there's no time, while watching old episodes of Bob's Burgers, maybe Parks and Rec, only occasionally watching something else like the news or some other sports that he'd get bored of in a matter of minutes.

Then, faintly, he heard something. At first, he thought his mind just wanted to hear it, but he could hear the same voice that kept him up most nights, thinking, over at the playground. He turned his head, slowing down his walk, and he spotted you, standing at the climbing frame with your daughter. You lived in the same apartment complex as him and the same floor, luckily for him, too. Your bedrooms were next to each other, and he would often hear your soft voice on the phone, talking to someone about God knows what. He would often be returning from a jog when you got back from shopping with your little girl, he'd offer to help you, but you were determined to get it done by yourself, but he insisted, so you would have to settle with him looking after your little girl on the landing as you made two or three trips down the stairs—the elevator hasn't been fixed in a few years.

He didn't know much about the father, only that he wasn't in the picture. He would never admit it to anyone, especially not Scott, but when he sat against the wall, waiting with your daughter next to him for you to return, something just seemed… right? He wasn't sure what he felt when he saw you walking up the stairs with two or four bags in your hands, your messy hair falling in front of your face, smiling shyly at him as you thanked him for waiting, remind him that he didn't have to, but, it was something he began to long for. When you and your daughter would disappear into your apartment he would stay outside for a few extra seconds before slowly backing up to his door. Only once did he walk back too far and almost fell into the fake potted plant in the corner.

Alex snapped out of it when he heard your daughter call his name loudly. He blinked, cursing himself for stopping to stare, and smiled over at her before his gaze moved onto you. The small wave you sent him had him lifting his arm up shyly to wave back. Your daughter called out to him again as she stood at the edge of the climbing frame in front of the pole the kids slid down, pretending to be firefighters. Alex smiled faintly as you waved him over. He pushed open the small yellow gate and walked in, making sure not to get in the way of any of the other children that ran around.

"Hey there," Alex spoke to your daughter.

"Hi," she grinned, holding onto the pole, but not moving any further.

"She's too scared to get down," you informed him and your daughter stopped smiling and glared at you.

"Am not," she argued.

"Then why are you still up there?" You teased.

Alex laughed to himself and placed his thermos down, then took his bag from his shoulders. "I'll rescue the princess," he said with a chuckle.

Your daughter grinned, shuffling her feet as she removed her hands from the pole and to Alex's shoulders while he wrapped his arms around her, lifting her up and off the frame. He kept her in his arms, smiling, as she wrapped her smaller arms around his shoulders, smiling widely at you herself.

"You're a menace," you teased, poking her stomach before kissing her cheek gently.

"A what?" She asked, tilting her head.

Alex chuckled. "Trouble," he told her.

"Oh." Your daughter tried to hide a smile and tried to bite back a laugh, turning her head away.

"What's so funny now?" You asked.

"'Now'?" Alex repeated with a raised eyebrow.

"She's been doing this the whole morning," you said, shaking your head. "I have no idea why."

"I've been doing no such thing," your daughter giggled to herself, beginning to squirm in Alex's arms.

He set her down and she ran off to the seesaw, beginning to chat with two other girls and a little boy while Alex picked up his bag and thermos again, still standing next to you. "I don't usually see you walk this way," you spoke up.

Alex turned his attention away from your daughter and to you, watching as you crossed your arms and kept a close eye on her. "What? Oh, right!" You side eyed him quickly before looking away again. "Roadworks and I left earlier than usual. I was hoping to get in and maybe start the reports before Andrew gets in."

"He's the phone guy, right?"

He chuckled, grinning to himself, feeling… happy? that you knew who Andrew was, especially since he told you about him almost five months ago. "Yeah, the phone guy."

"How does he still have a job?" You mumbled to yourself.

"What about you? Do you always come here at this time?"

With a sigh, you shook your head. "No, I haven't exactly slept yet. I called in sick to work because I knew I wouldn't focus, and she didn't have school today so, here we are. I know, I know, a stupid mum thing to do. Irresponsible and childish. I already got that speech from my mum."

"You haven't slept yet?" He asked, not saying anything about your parenting skills.

"No," you replied, shaking your head.

"Are both of you okay?"

"Yeah. She's fine."

"The question was including you, too." Alex heard you sigh quietly. "Coffee?" He held his thermos to you. You nodded your head and took it from him, unscrewing the lid before taking a sip. "Now, are you okay?"

"Yeah, it's just… Starting to go out on dates again is proving to be difficult and stressful."

"Dates?"

"I don't particularly want to be single for the rest of my life, raising a child I had at a young age, who I had with a boy I got married to when I was far too young to understand how stupid I was," you replied.

He nodded his head. "What happened, if you don't mind me asking?"

"It's fine." You shrugged. "I was meant to go on a date yesterday, with a guy I met at a coffee shop, I'm not sure if what happened was a sign that I shouldn't date guys from coffee shops or if I should stop going to coffee shops in general, maybe it was about dating, I… I'm getting off topic." Alex smiled lightly, almost wincing. "But, anyway, when he showed up… I'm not sure if he ignored me when I told him I had a daughter, or maybe he just thought I was joking, but whatever it was, when I asked him to just wait a minute for the babysitter to arrive, he began to make an excuse as to why he couldn't go on the date. I asked him what was wrong, and it was at that point when she came up to the door behind me and wrapped her arms around my leg, staring up at him sadly, that he said he didn't want baggage and just left. I had to cancel the babysitter, change out of that stupid dress, that I'm going to burn because I can almost see the words 'I don't want that type of baggage' on it and I just… He said that in front of my child, Alex. He actually had the audacity to say that in front of my baby, like she…"

"I still have my college hockey stick, how about I beat him to death with it?" Alex suggested when he heard you trail off, wrapping your hands tightly around the thermos.

A small hum left your lips. "Tempting."

Alex smiled lightly, and then his heart began to race, his hand began to twitch. He wanted to mess with his hair just to distract himself. "H-How about I take you out for dinner tonight, to make up for his mistake instead? She can come with us." He motioned his head towards your daughter who was now sharing one side of the seesaw with the little boy while the other two girls shared the other.

Slightly stunned, you turned your head from your daughter and looked up at him. "What?"

"Oh, would you look at the time." Alex chuckled nervously, lifting his arm up to look at his watch. "It's time for me to get to work."

"Alex," you called after him as he began to walk. He only got away with two steps before you grabbed onto his arm and moved to stand in front of him. "Are you asking me out on a date?"

He gulped, tugging at the collar of his shirt, noticing a few strands of his hair had fallen in front of his face. "I've been meaning to for almost two years," he admitted quietly, feeling a knot in his stomach, his hands shaking and sweating at the same time, his heart beating uncomfortably in his chest.

A smile rose to your face as you looked down, hiding the fact your cheeks turned a shade of pink faintly, your skin warmed up. "I, uh… yes." You nodded. "I would love to… we would love to."

"Really?" He asked.

You nodded, turning to look at your daughter who was already making her way back. She wrapped her arms around your leg again, leaning her head against you. Alex crouched down and cleared his throat.

"I need to ask you something very important."

"About stocks?"

"What?" Alex looked at her, then up to you, who was just as confused as he was, then back down to your daughter. "No."

"Good, because I don't know anything about them."

"No, I need to ask you for permission."

"To do what?"

"Take you and your mum out for dinner tonight, and if that goes well, maybe every other night after that?"

Your daughter looked up to you, a smiling growing on her face. You shrugged, waiting for her response. She looked back at Alex and grinned, nodding her head before she pushed forward and wrapped her arms around him again. With a chuckle, he stood up, holding her tightly. The nerves were still there eating away at him, but it was no longer a bad feeling, they were the good kind of nerves. Alex glanced at you and grinned, unwrapping one arm from your daughter to bring you into the hug as well. He was no longer pissed off at the diversion, and, slowly, the stress started to melt away.

#alex summers #havok #x men #alex summers imagine #havok imagine #x men imagine #imagine

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peculiar-monstar · 7 years

Text

Making a Deal.

Okay, so I'm attempting a story involving Pennywise and my oc, who is also an alien just a different species from him. (There won't be smut, BC I'm sure I'd suck at writing that) but depending on the feedback I plan to add a couple more chapters. This is sorta a slow build with eventual fluff between the two. This is my first time writing Pennywise so I hope it turns out alright...

The loud screeching of tires filled her ears as she ran as fast as her legs would allow her to go in her current form. She spotted an opening under the rusted fence that bordered the road and swerved, sliding through it. She let out a slight whine as part of the sharp barbed wire cut into her right shoulder, but quickly continued deeper into the woods. She could hear the doors of a car shutting and voices yelling behind her as she clutched a canvas grocery bag between her jaws tightly. Her lungs burned for more air and her heart felt as though it was about to give out it was beating so fast, but she couldn’t stop running yet. Her paws splashed along the weak stream of water that lead to the entrance of a few of the towns storm drains, she froze for a moment, her ears listening for even the slightest sound of a stick snapping under foot. Met with silence she dropped the bag and lapped up a few gulps of water.

“It ran toward the drains, c’mon before we lose it!!” a loud voice screamed from only a couple yards behind her. With in a second she had collected the bag and sprinted further down the stream. Every slippery step made her curse this form more, as she struggled to grip the slime covered rocks with her claws. Reaching the first of three drain openings, she ducked inside and disappeared into the dark tunnel. Dropping the now soaked bag on the damp drain floor, she very quietly crept back to where she had entered and watched the four figures that had been chasing her. They all appeared to be young, around seventeen, and very pissed at the fact they had lost sight of her. “fucking coyotes.. We’ll never find it now, let’s go, it’s bound to show up again in town.” One snapped as they headed back up to the road.

Sighing with relief she went back to what had caused the whole situation. Shoving her snout in the bag she breathed in deep the smell of the rack of beef ribs wrapped in paper. Her stomach growled with aching hunger, and she was all but foaming at the mouth for a taste. Looking around at the murky grey water that trickled along the drain she growled and scooped the bag up once again in her teeth and continued further into the blackness.

Finding a decently dry spot to eat and rest was proving to be almost impossible. Her muscles burned and she was exhausted, but she kept going deeper and deeper, following the twists of the pipe. Regret hit her again with the intense mix of scents she was experiencing. Stench of mold, decay, and hints of human smells flooded her sensitive nose as she neared the end of pipe that lead to a vast chamber. Pausing before stepping out completely and placing her bag on the semi dry floor, she cautiously sniffed the stale air.

It was difficult to pick apart each smell, but it reeked of human the most. Each slow step brought her closer to a huge pile of stacked various objects. The human scent the strongest around it, but now she also got hints of fear and she froze as her eyes climbed to the top of the monstrous collection. Floating around she saw many human bodies slowly moving around it. Her animal instincts pushing in the back of her mind telling her she shouldn’t be here, that danger was coming. The adrenaline starting to pump through her body again as she scampered back for her bag of food. Halfway across her ears pricked when she heard loud slashing coming from one of the pipes. Ducking behind a few busted bikes, she flattened herself to the floor and eyed the opening, watching.

A tall figure emerged from the shadows, each step echoed off the walls. It suddenly stopped and looked around, walking a few more feet into the little light that came from above. It Bent down and examined her abandoned bag with great intrest, before dropping it and glancing around. “oh my, oh my… it seems something else has chosen these sewers to dine in..” It sounded human and what she could tell from the light, resembled a clown of sorts, with pale make-up, orange hair, and a costume with bells. It slinked about with little sound, it’s now yellow eyes scanning for any movement. “come out come out… I know you’re still here…. I can SMELL YOU..” A quick glance to him then back to the bag gave her the motive she needed to move. Darting out she barely made it four feet before colliding with what felt like a wall. Blinking she found herself against the stone wall, pain radiating across her side. “My.. My.. What’s this? A little lost creature wondered down here?” He taunted. Curling her lips and revealing her long sharp canines she let out a low growl. “tsk tsk.. Those are nice, but let me show you mine..” The clown growled back flashing her his own mouthful of jagged razor like teeth. Drawing back to lunge at him, she was snatched by the neck and held up by her throat as he twisted his mouth to a fanged smile. “look at you.. Pathetic excuse for a predator..” She continued to snarl and snap, but her head throbbed with pain from how hard of a grip was on her neck constricting her air.

Pulling her to mere inches from his face he opened his mouth to speak but stopped and instead took in a deep breath. The beast in his hand has stopped growling and instead just looked at him, eyes wide but he smelt no fear. Sniffing the air again he released his grip and she fell to the ground. “You aren’t a beast.. There’s something… something else I smell on you.. Different from anything I’ve encountered before on this planet..” he said as he watched the coyote cough and gag while trying to catch it’s breath. She shot him a look before the sound of cracking bones filled the room. Slowly the fur went away and in place of the soggy animal was a human woman with messy dark hair and a long slender built frame, still clutching at her throat. The clown seemed confused and intrigued by what had happened. “What are you exactly?” he asked as he croutched to eye level with her.

“No… not a beast nor a human, I’m something similar to you. I can smell you aren’t human either, so why don’t you explain too?” her voice was soft but scratchy either from non use or being strangled. “You came into my home, and I asked first, so explain while I’m giving you the chance.” The seriousness of his voice left no room for a debate. “I’m from beyond this planet, got here long before the inhabitants now. To clear it up I was being chased and by accident I found this… uh lovely.. Place..” She explained dryly. His glowing eyes stayed fixed on her, as he processed what was said, had he not seen it happen he’d have killed her without a second thought. “Well? What about you? I could tell you weren’t human the instant you tried choking me.” She asked while combing her fingers through her long dirty strands. “I happen to be an eldritch being, and I’ve been here much longer then any other. I’m curious as to why you still fought against me even though you claimed to know I was something else.” The glint of wonder obvious in his bright eyes. “when I’m in full animal form, the instincts can kick in, and it takes a few minutes to bring them down.” She replied with a small shrug. The clown tapped his gloved index finger on his drool covered chin, thinking as he stared at her.

A chilling smile played it’s way across his painted lips and he quickly hopped up with excitement. “I’ve got an offer for you, in exchange for living here and me not killing you, why not stay here with me for awhile? I’m only awake for a year then I sleep for twenty-seven. So after the year if you wish you can leave.” She looked around the cold dark room then back up to him. “and if I decline? I die? What’s stopping me from just leaving now? Besides sewers aren’t my ideal home, I’ve lived in some dark ones but I’ll pass on this one.” She watched his smile break into a frown as he huffed and lowered himself back to her level. “you need protection, food, and a place to stay…. I can give you all that, and in return all I need from you is the occasional help luring my.. Prey.. To me. So do we have a deal?” She rubbed her temple, before nodding. “fine, but I need at least a dry place to eat my food and sleep.” The smile returned to his face as he stood and extended her his large hand. “well then I’m Pennywise, Pennywise the dancing clown.. And your name is… ?” Reaching up she accepted his gesture and stood, revealing her height to be taller then Pennywise had expected. “I’m Ari.. So.. Pennywise, I’m starving and freezing, is there any dry place in here?” He spun around rather dramatically and started walking away. “Follow me and I’ll show you, but you may want to put clothes on because there maybe a few humans around.” When she didn’t respond and he heard the cracking sounds again he looked back to find a large black coated dog trailing behind him with the canvas bag hanging from it’s mouth.

Making his way into the worn down house connected to the beginning sewer maze, he waited for her to enter before walking over to a beat up mattress laying on the floor. “No one comes in here so this will be your best bet, and if they do you now know it’s the quickest to the drains to escape or attack them.” His eyes now a shade of blue as he told this to the dog. She jumped on the mattress and started ripping apart the paper covering the ribs, drooling as she reached the raw flesh. “I have hunting to do, so I’ll be back later.” He said before he vanished back down into the pitch blackness. Licking her chops she turned her attention to the ribs, and finally started to devour them.

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

Ari awoke to the feeling of eyes on her, and as she sat up she found Pennywise watching her from the corner of the room. “sleep well pet?” a cheerful tone present in his voice. “I see you found some clothes as well.” Ari yawned and stretched before answering him. “first off.. NOT YOUR PET.. And yea they were upstairs. So do you need my help today, or am I good to go off with out you hunting me down?” He walked over to the window then looked back to her, “I’m fine for today, but can I ask you some more questions? I’ve never encountered another with shifting abilities.” He giggled a little when she nodded. “so can you shift into anything? Are there more of you?? Do you only eat certain types of things?” he spouted off while taking a seat in front of her on the mattress. “oh man.. Okay, I can shift into any animal on this planet or previously on this planet. I can also make any part of my body into any thing animal like and still keep the rest in human form. This is my human form, the only one I have, I haven’t changed much about it since forming it.. There were lots of us but over time we’ve dissipated to only a few. And my full name is Nofre -ari, it’s Egyptian for the good companion. We all had a great influence on that culture, with all the half animal half human gods they worshiped. Many of my kind took on those roles while others of us, like myself, preferred to stay in full animal forms and help by protection or guidence. I mostly stayed as a Pharaoh dog in those days. Our Kind really isn’t into aggression unless needed or injured, humans are much too hostile, hence my choice to stay in animal forms over humans. As for eating I stick to wildlife or human food.” She said playing with the hem on her shirt.

His blank stare and lack of movement or speech made her question if he’d heard everything she told him, but then he swallowed and tilted his head a little, seeming to return to the current conversation. “Are you immortal?” She eyed him suspiciously after he broke the quiet with one more question. “I can be injured to the point of almost death in any form, but only killed in my original form, so yes in every other form but I can be killed when I fully show what I am.” His smile returned and his blue eyes got brighter at her response. “what does that look like? Show me! Show me! Show me! I can show you mine if that seems more fair?” his bells jingled as he twitched with more excitement. Glaring at him she crossed her arms, “oh no, I’m not showing you.. You’ve seen plenty and I didn’t make it living on this planet this long by chance clown.” He let out a loud groan and stuck out his bottom lip in a pout. This is going to be one interesting year… for the both of us... She thought to herself as she watched the clown grumble and head out of the room.

So yeah that's it so far, sorry it was a long one.. Thanks for reading and feedback is always welcome ☺

#pennywise the clown #pennywise the dancing clown #pennywise #it 2017 #pennywise x oc #aliens #first meeting #it fanfiction #shape shifter #original female character

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pendragonfics · 7 years

Text

Shiver

Paring: Matt Murdock/Reader

Tags: female reader, canon compliant, blind date, blind humour, bed sharing, fluff, angst and a happy ending bc why not

Summary: "And Matt, this is ________, practically my keeper and non-biological sister, and you are each other's blind date. More-so for Matt."

Foggy sets his two BFFs up, and Matt's life gets in the way of romance.

Word Count: 2,241

Posting Date: 2017-03-18

Current Date: 2017-06-11

"The last time this happened, he set me up with the non-English speaking son of his landlady, said, 'Have a good night, children', and ran off into the night." You laugh at the memory, and how you spent the whole time walking around the city repeating what little English words the guy had known. "And, ever since I moved here, Foggy has not been off my case about being single in a city like this. Says I need protection, but I've got pepper spray and a can of whoop-ass in my fist." You sigh, looking at yourself in the mirror, playing with the stubborn hair that keeps falling into your eyes. "Don't say whoop-ass on the first date. One a blind date."

It was common knowledge that Franklin 'Foggy' Nelson was best friends with you since birth. Everyone knew it. It was like a word association game; always together. In fact, your mothers had been friends, and you two had been friends, and if it ever came to it, your children would be friends too, and so on. The Nelson family and the ______'s had known each other for eons, and would always do. And that was why you followed him to this side of the city, to the only place you knew.

Of course, thankfully, you had a job, and a dinky apartment that used to be someone's basement underneath a gym, and the same guy trying to get you out in the dating world and find someone to hook up with. But that was what best friends were for, right? Getting people out of their own little ruts and out into the world where the sun shone through the skyscrapers and warmth came from disposable coffee cups.

But there was ten minutes to go until the date (meeting place: a street corner near a park and a bar) and you were still trying to figure out what to do with your hair when you heard a text alert come through your phone. But checking it, it was none other than Foggy, sending you a picture of someone's shoe (attached to somebody's leg, thank goodness) and the words don't leave matty standing around under it.

Rolling your eyes, you fluff your hair the way it normally is for everyday life, and grabbing a scarf, rush out the door. It doesn't take long to get to where the meeting place is, and once you're there, you can't help but laugh. After knowing him all of those years, and tying ties for all of yours, you swear you'd taught him how to not to tie it backwards. And the suit? You'd need to take him out around town for another - he looked like a used-car salesman.

"I'd know that laugh anywhere, even if I was in a room of ________ doppelgangers all laughing," Foggy grins, crossing the distance away from you, smothering your outfit and you in a crushing hug. "Glad you could make it."

"I'm getting the feeling that there was no choice between making it, or not," you whisper back, and add, "Being single isn't a curse, Fog."

From your peripherals, you notice a guy, wearing a suit, but unlike Foggy who looks somewhat like a child invading his uncle's old raggedy clothes pile from the spare room, this guy makes the suit look like he's on-loan from Armani for the weekend. And without really planning to, you feel yourself get flustered at the sight of him without even speaking a damn word to the guy.

"Ah. _______, this is Matty-Matt-Matt, BFF and lawyer friend-slash-partner in our business," he motions to the guy. "And Matt, this is ________, practically my keeper and non-biological sister, and you are each other's blind date. More-so for Matt."

It's only then you link the white cane and the glasses on the edge of his nose.

"He's always joking about it, don't you worry," he extends a hand to you, and like something like a magical Disney prince, he's linked his arm in yours, and your heart is racing a million miles a minute because the freaking hot blind guy has treated you like a goddamned Disney princess and you're sure you've forgotten to brush your teeth or something dumb. Leaving Foggy behind, he muses, "So, he told me you've moved?"

You nod, and realising your mistake, add, "Um, yeah. Grew up in the place beside the Nelson's, but there's nothing really left for me there. I mean, new job. I'm a typist for a clinic downtown." You tell him.

Matt grins. "I'm good with my hands too, what with all the Braille," he jokes, and adds, "Please, relax, I can take a joke, and Foggy knows that way too well." He pauses, "If you like, we can play that game where you ask a question, and then I do." You can't help but smirk, because all this time, with his cane out, he's been navigating around people and the bustle of the city and somehow managed to lead you toward a park bench in the park across the road. "You start."

Taking a seat, you hum, and chewing on your lip, deliberate on what to ask Matty-Matt-Matt, Foggy's lawyer friend-slash-partner. "Okay. Have you always been ... blind?" you ask.

He shakes his head. "Got into an accident. Saved an old man, but lost my eyes." He replies, folding his cane up, sitting the stick on his lap. "What made you become a typist?"

You blink. "I - I don't know. I remember being six and watching my grandmother on her old typewriter ... I've always had a thing for the way the keys clack. Okay, that sounds really dumb." You feel a roaring blush coat your cheeks.

"No, no, not dumb," Matt places a hand on yours, "It's better than why I became a lawyer."

You cock an eyebrow, and use up your next question on that, and go back and forward in the game until the sun seems to be fading into the distance behind the skyscrapers of Hell's Kitchen and you're feeling less than strangers with the handsome man beside you. As you shiver in the evening air, he seems to come out of a charm from your voice, and spell unbroken, he proposes moving toward a place with reservations for the pair of you. Before you know it, the night is over, and he's walked you back to your place, and you've added your number into his talking phone and his to yours, and vowed to go out again next Thursday after his rota of clients for the day.

It's like this every week until almost a year later you wake up beside him in his bed, and turn to him in the midnight air. In the darkness that isn't quiet, you see the shadow of his form in the sheets, the way his hair falls every which-way, his lips parted ever so slightly to take in the night air. But your eyes see the haunting linger of bruises and battered ribs and the blister on his hand, how they become increasingly calloused as the days pass by.

Your boyfriend calls them his accidents, but you know inside you don't believe him. You've been with him for very nearly twelve months, and you know what Matt Murdock, the guy who kisses you goodbye on his way to work, and forgets his lunch in the fridge in the apartment and asked you to move in with him only eight months after knowing him, and had the freaking Punisher as a client.

The Matt you know would never just let himself 'fall down the stairs' or 'trip over the sidewalk' and, your personal favourite, 'walk into a door'. No. The Matt you knew, the Matt you met when you first went on that date, walked proficiently around people like his blindness was only a defined term to some and not a complete concept for him. The Matt you knew would never just let a guy step off the curb too early, almost like he could sense what was happening, would never do the same for himself.

He was lying, and it was simple.

Slipping a foot from the bed, you pad over to the main living area as quiet as you can be, and curl in on yourself on the couch. It's been months since you left your apartment and assimilated into his, and longer still since you've seen your family or the dog face to face, or on Skype. Perhaps it's the fact you're wondering if Matt is either into hardcore BDSM and cheating on you or the vigilante Daredevil (which is nigh impossible) and perhaps it's that which is making you shiver on the lounge, or that you've been such an adult for so long and need to feel the arms of someone you love around you to tell you that it'll all be okay.

"________?" His voice is groggy, tantalising to hear, and you can practically picture his face as he realises you're not in the bed beside him. "I can hear crying, is that you?"

It isn't until he says this you realise that yes, it is you, and you're giving Alice from Wonderland a run for her money, as your nightshirt is soaking. You shakily give a breathy yes and hear his feet hit the hardwood, making their way toward to you on the sofa. "Matt, please, you need sleep, you've got a court date tomorrow with the Frank Castle case," you protest, but he's taking you into his arms, to his chest, cradling you like you're goddamned four years old and just had a nightmare. "Why are you so hard to understand, Matthew?"

He's still for a moment. "Do you remember that date, the one Foggy set up?" He asks you, like there's any possibility you could have forgotten meeting the best guy you'd ever come to be with. "Do you want to play that game where you ask a question, and then I do?"

"Are you cheating on me?" your voice is barely a whisper, but you know he hears you.

Matt shakes his head. "No – no, I'm not." he whispers back, his fingers combing the hair from your eyes, from your face. "Why couldn't you sleep?"

You take a breath before answering. "I just...I don't know. Mid-midlife crisis." You can't see, but hear the puff of laughter that comes from his smirk. "Why don't you trust me?" you ask. It's truly a silent night after the words leave your lips; Matt stills behind you, his big spoon to your little one is almost a statue, the flashing lights beyond the apartment of the billboard orchestrate the passing of time. "You never tell me where you go when you just disappear, and come back beaten and battered all over. I met a girl named Clare on the stairs one day, and she knew your middle name. Which, I learned, from her, Mr. Matthew Michael Murdock," you murmur your defences to the lawyer, backing up your facts, "Foggy calls a lot, and we're basically the founding members of the What Is Up With Matt club, and on top of it all, you don't tell me a damn thing!" you sit up, leaving the arms of Matt empty on his side of the lounge.

"________ -,"

You shake your head. "I'm a typist who if was better at school could be a damn court stenotype, and if you can't tell me what you've been hiding since I met you, then I'm sure that I can be out of here by the sunrise, Matt. I swear, there's nothing worse than knowing there's something going on and you can't do a thing to help." Your voice chokes up, arms tight around yourself.

"It's not that I don't trust you, _______," he starts. "I just want to protect you."

You wipe your tears on the back of your wrist, and knowing well enough it's not your turn to ask, you implore, "From what? Truth? Isn't that a fundamental thing about being a lawyer, an American?" You sniff. "I'm the same age as you. I kicked the ass of the last guy who tried to mug me. I know how to do taxes and I know there's shitty things in this world that happen for shitty reasons, but out of all of that, you're still defending your motive that you're protecting me?" You swallow. "From what, Matt?"

He lowers his head, wiping a hand over his face. "Please, I know you're upset, and I never intended you to be. But ... I have, uh, abilities. I can hear really well, and smell, and feel. I'm also the son of Jack Murdock, and I can't just step down from a fight.

You're not sure you like where this is going, but you sit there, silent, waiting for the next part to come.

"I - I'm Daredevil. I'm the Devil of Hell's Kitchen, and I just want you to know that I don't go out to do it for fun. I do it because I love you, _________. And I want to make the city safer for you."

A silence settles between you, and slowly, you reach out, and cradle his cheeks in your palms, cupping them to raise his head to face your own. "Matt, you idiot..." you whisper, gazing into his eyes.

He gives a wan smile. "But I'm your idiot?"

You nod. "Yeah. You're my idiot."

#matt murdock #daredevil #matt murdock/reader #matt murdock x reader #daredevil x reader #marvel x reader #marvel fanfic #chaotic--lovely #pendragonfics

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