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#happened to be visiting parents house so i could read the volumes again right away
josyuss · 2 years
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taestefully-in-luv · 3 years
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The Island | KTH (Two)
Summary: You’re just two strangers waking up in a room on a lonely island where a company in the business of love has placed you. They believe that thanks to their in depth research you two are destined soulmates. What happens when your ‘soulmate’ and you want nothing to do with each other but falling in love is the only way to leave?
Pairing: Taehyung x Female reader
Genre: strangers to lovers, very slight enemies to lovers, soulmates au, roommate au, slow burn, fluff, smut, angst, slight crack, and drama.
Word Count: 10.4k
Warnings: swearing
Notes: Hi everyone! Here’s ch2 of the new story, hope you guys like it. let me know if you want to be added to the taglist, or send an ask if just want to chat!:)
Taglist: @ggukkieland @monvieesdaebak @707sblog @peacedreamer14 @dopedreamfireparty @everythingnamjoon @taebae19 @typicalgenzworld @mooniyooni
© taestefully-in-luv
Previous --- Next
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You don’t think you have ever been this bitter in your life—and you have a few things you can be bitter about. You could honestly make a list. But this? This is the ultimate bitterness and you hate it. It is driving you absolutely nuts! You’re alone with a man on an island…that’s lonely enough, right? Well, said man doesn’t even want to talk to you…that makes it ten—no, a million times more lonely. And you have every right to be bitter about that. So, yes maybe you are being a little petty when guys do interact.
It’s not like you are trying to purposely be petty, no, it’s not like that. You just can’t help your smart ass mouth or how childish you can become. Taehyung doesn’t seem to mind completely though, he just has his own smart ass comments or he becomes childish himself. It’s a horrible mix! Neither of you win! And you always want to have the last word but with Taehyung as your opponent it’s almost impossible.
“Maybe if you weren’t always following me, they would have sent us home by now.” Taehyung states bitterly as he puts his slice of bread on top of his now made sandwich.
“I’m not following you.” You roll your eyes, “I have to eat too.”
“You can’t wait until I’m done?”
“You look pretty done to me…” You point at his sandwich and he scoffs.
“I still have to eat it.”
“Eat in your room for all I care.”
You and Taehyung are getting along just fine…maybe not swimmingly but like, fine. It’s been a couple weeks and you have mostly stayed out of one another’s way but it’s moments like this that you end up interacting.
“I think I’ll eat at the table, thanks.” He grabs his sandwich and makes his way to the dining room table, sitting down with a thump. He aggressively picks up his sandwich and takes a bite while showing you a smart ass smile.
“Fantastic,” you state, “Me too.” You finish pouring milk into your cereal bowl and set it back inside the fridge. You dramatically make your way over to the table as well, giving him a wide grin as you sit down in front of him. You slightly slam your bowl down on the table, some milk dribbling over the edge of the bowl and Taehyung snarls.
“Great, you’re making a fucking mess.”
“If you went up and ate in you room you would have no idea about this mess.”
“But you still would have made this mess?”
“Ignorance is bliss, Taehyung.”
“You’re such a…” he stops, setting his lips into a firm line and you lean your head forward, clearly curious about what you are.
“Such a…?” you blink at him repeatedly and his lips curve upward into a charming smile.
“A fucking brat.” Taehyung grabs his sandwich again and takes an obnoxious bite while grinning and you give him your best annoyed eye roll.
Okay, maybe a little less than fine. This company has got it all wrong! All. Fucking. Wrong. You two are barely getting along! It’s just eye roll after eye roll, smart ass comment after smart ass comment. That’s it. That’s the relationship. Taehyung barely spares you a glance throughout the day. You do your own thing and he does his. You won’t lie though…you are curious what he gets up to…the last week he has left the house and doesn’t come back until sunset…and he comes back sweaty and exhausted.
You want to ask what he does, you do, you really do. But something tells you he wouldn’t even tell you even if you begged. And you’re not about to beg for this asshole.
So, you guys keep to yourselves save the occasional breakfast/lunch/dinner run in. While he does god knows what, you have also been trying to keep yourself busy. You have recently learned to cook a couple meals, nothing too fancy but you feel proud. You play a lot of games, read a lot of books and watch a lot of movies.
But to put it simple—You’re bored. Fucking bored. You miss human interaction. You hate to say it but your food run ins are mostly on purpose at this point…you just want someone to chit chat with for a few moments even if its unpleasant conversation—because hey! At least it’s conversation.
You and Taehyung eat in silence after your little convo, he and you share strange eye contact…you call it strange because it’s more like he glares at you and you glare at him. Your eyes never leave one another. You feel like he’s trying to cast like, black magic on you, maybe something where if he glares enough you will burst into flames. You assume this because that’s exactly what you’re doing.
“Stop looking at me.” Taehyung finishes his last bite, wiping his mouth clean with a napkin.
“You stop looking at me.” You fire back and he sighs, folding his arms across his chest.
“Why would I look at you?”
“Why would I look at you?” you mock, shoving a spoonful of cereal into your mouth and Taehyung squints at you.
“Oh yeah, real mature y/n.” His lips curl inward and he relaxes his arms at his sides as he stands from the table.
“I’m going to my room now.”
“You literally don’t have to announce everything you do.” You raise the bowl to your lips and drink back the leftover milk. You don’t want to look at Taehyung’s expression, you know you’re being ruder than usual. You’re just bitter. Yeah, pretty god damn bitter. You hear Taehyung release a long breath, and you’re starting to think he’s right, maybe you are a brat.
“Goodnight y/n.” he says much softer than you were expecting.
Yeah, maybe you are a brat.
~~~~~~
You’re snuggled up on the living room sofa, the TV plays some cartoon movie you found on the shelf (obviously one of his picks). The movie is on a low volume as you have a book in your hands. You just started it this morning and you have not put it down, it’s called The Roommate, a funny and sexy novel. Too bad your own roommate is nowhere near funny nor sexy. Okay, maybe he’s a little sexy. But his attitude is the opposite of sexy so therefore he isn’t sexy. Yeah, totally. Whatever you have to say to yourself, right? It’s evening now and you’re almost done with the book, you have hardly taken a break from reading. This reminds you of your last memories before the island…the night before you were…kidnapped. Yeah, kidnapped. That’s how you would describe it.
The night before you were like this…snuggled on your sofa in your parent’s house…
“All I’m saying is it doesn’t seem like you’re trying that hard to—”
“Honey, relax.” Your dad cuts in. Your mom is going on and on again about how you still haven’t found another job.
“Relax? Our daughter suddenly left her job and moved back to town!” Your mother throws her hands up, “And she won’t even tell us why!”
You sit here, your knees to your chest as you read your book. You try your best to ignore your mother…you two have rarely ever seen eye to eye. If you told her why you “quit” your previous job and why you had to move back home she would probably find a way to blame you.
“She will tell us when she’s ready.” You hear your dad whisper to your mother. “Don’t push her, you know that makes it worse…”
You can’t help but nibble on your lips, starting to feel the anxiety build. You try to focus on the words on the pages in front of you but they’re beginning to become blurred.
“Oh what is she 5 years old? You treat her like a child! She’s an adult she can handle a little confrontation.”
Your eyes lose focus on the words in front of you, instead all you see is blurred vision thanks to the tears that try to visit.
“I’ll be going to sleep now.” You announce, closing your book and setting it on the end table next to the sofa. “Goodnight.” You grab your phone and stand from your place on the couch. Thankfully, your dad offers a soft ‘goodnight sweetie’ and your mom just nods her head.
You make your way down the hall to your bedroom, opening and closing the door quickly. You lean back on the bedroom door and sigh out, blinking away any tears that tried to appear. You won’t cry. Not again. You feel your phone buzz in your hand, startling you. You unlock your phone to see who messaged you when you see it lit up with a notification from him. You feel your whole world collapsing. Why the fuck is he messaging you?
You stare at your books pages, in deep thought as you recall your last night before the island. You don’t want to remember honestly. You shake your head, ridding yourself of your thoughts when the side door opens in the kitchen. It’s Taehyung. He’s sweaty and clearly exhausted again…what the hell does he do outside for so many hours?
“Hi.” You say, looking up at him from your book. Wait. Why did you greet him?
“Hi…?” Taehyung is just as surprised as you are, with his wide eyes and open mouth. He scrunches his brows together as he eyes you. He gives you a small wave, confusion written all over his face as he begins walking through the entry way and heading upstairs.
You sit here embarrassed as hell. Why did you say hi? And why was your voice so high pitched? You turn red, redder than you probably can imagine. You drop your face in your book and groan, wishing you didn’t say something as simple as ‘hi’.
You have to remind yourself you two aren’t talking. That your roommate here at Casa de la Trapped, isn’t looking to become buddy buddy with you. Which sucks because you are human, you know, a social creature. What’s the harm in becoming friends? Sure you two banter, but you can tell he isn’t a bad guy. You just don’t get any bad vibes from him, in fact sometimes it seems like he’s forcing himself to be closed off.
You try to go back to your book when you hear a faint yelp from upstairs. Did Taehyung just kind of…scream? You sit here with your book, your ears in the direction of the stairs trying to listen for any indication that something is wrong. But it’s silent. You decide to go back to your book when you hear the noise of Taehyung running down the stairs. He is out of breath by the time he reaches you, standing next to the sofa.
You quite literally choke on your spit when you see him. This boy just don’t give a damn, huh? He’s standing here, trying his best to breathe evenly with nothing but a dark red towel hanging lowly around his hips. You gulp at the sight of him. You knew he probably had a nice body but you were not expecting this. His strong build surprises you, his soft, caramel skin glows even in this lighting and his muscles flex with every movement.
“Uh,” you begin, setting your book down again, “Can I help you?”
“As a matter of fact, yes.” Taehyung rushes to say, he sounds much different than usual. His voice is usually calm and deep but right now it’s panicked like a child.
“With what?”
“There’s a spider in the shower, I need you to take care of it.”
“You want me to kill a spider for you?”
“Kill?” Taehyung brings a hand to his chest, a shocked expression on his face. “All life is precious, y/n.” he pouts. “Just get it and take it outside.”
You tilt your head and try not to laugh as you look at him…he looks bothered, that’s for sure. But god, what a baby. Can’t even take care of a small bug by himself.
“Fine. Show me where it’s at.” You rise from the couch, pointing at the direction of the stairs.
“Yes, yes. I’ll lead the way!” Taehyung walks quickly. He makes his way upstairs with you following right behind him. He leads you into the bathroom when he brings back the shower curtain to show you the spider.
“Well?” you ask expectantly. “Where is it?”
Taehyung turns to face you, his face as white as a ghost.
“It was just here, I swear.”
You roll your eyes as you fight back a grin.
“Sure, Taehyung. Are you sure you weren’t just trying to show off your body?” you shamelessly drag your eyes down his body and he goes red.
“W-Why—why would I do that?” he murmurs out, “Plus, I am sure you’ve already imagined what I look like without clothes.” He recovers quickly, a smirk making its way on his face.
“Not likely.” You say nonchalantly. “Well, if there’s no bug—”
“Wait! You don’t expect me to use this shower still, do you?” He looks panicked again, like a small child.
“Uh, yes?”
“The spider could be lurking anywhere! Let me use your shower.” He suggests, loving his own idea. You on the other hand, do not love his idea.
“Nah.”
“Nah?”
“Yeah, nah.”
“y/n…” He whines, “Please. I’ll do anything.”
“Anything?” You raise a brow, a small smirk creeping on your face. “Okay, have breakfast with me tomorrow. And you actually have to talk to me.”
“y/n…” he warns. “You know we shouldn’t do that.”
“And I want 5 facts about you.” You stand your ground, your hands on your hips as you speak. “And I’ll give you 3 about me.”
“How is that even fair?”
“I’m the rule maker here, Taehyung.” You narrow your eyes at him, “Get used to it.”
Taehyung walks closer to you, his breaths reaching your skin.
“Oh y/n.” Taehyung’s voice goes low, “I definitely make the rules.” There’s a moment of strange tension as he stares down at you…then he’s speaking again. “If you only give 3 then I only give 3. That’s the deal.”
You stare up into his dark eyes and you struggle to swallow your own spit, he might only have a few inches over you but maybe they are a little intimidating.
“F-Fine. Use my shower.” You step out of his way and gesture towards your room. “See you at breakfast tomorrow.” You wink.
Taehyung rolls his eyes but this time it almost seemed playful and not overly dramatic. You don’t want to get your hopes up but when he’s not being closed off and frankly, rude, he’s really not that bad.
“Don’t get used to these types of deals.” Taehyung throws over his shoulder as he walks to your room. “Basically, don’t get used to me.” He says a little quieter, but you still hear him and you frown.
“Like, I would want to!” you yell out.
Taehyung does not want to leave this shower, ever. He’s almost kind of bitter that he let you have this room! You get the awesome rain shower and he’s stuck with some plain, basic shower head in the guest bathroom. He eyes all the different bottles that sit on the shelves inside the shower, these must be all the bottles you use in your real life, he thinks. He grabs the shampoo and opens it to sniff it. He’s never gotten close enough to you that he can smell your hair but man, this is what you smell like? Delicious. He squirts a generous amount of the shampoo in his palm with an evil glint in his eye and massages it into his scalp. Whoops, did he just use your shampoo? Oh well. He rinses his hair out and uses your conditioner as well, but he doesn’t stop there. He uses your body wash too! It smells divine and its making his skin so soft.
Taehyung just knows that him using your shit would bother you, he just gets that vibe. And he’s not sure why but riling you up is quite fun. Taehyung turns the water off and grabs his towel and starts drying off…he steps out on to the shower mat and eyes the room as he dries himself. He sees you organized all your lotions and whatever other products onto the sinks counter top, he sees how empty “his side” of the sink is. It previously held all his belongings that he had moved into his bathroom—the guest bathroom.
“Are you almost done in there?” He hears you knocking on the door. “I want to take a shower before bed!”
“Yeah, yeah.” He whispers out, “Hold on!”
Taehyung wraps the towel around his hips again and goes towards the bathroom door, he stops to check himself out in the mirror before opening the door.
“I’m all done, cry baby.” He rolls his eyes and you secretly hope they get stuck like that for how much he does it.
“Me, the cry baby? You wouldn’t even use your own show—”
“—anyway, bathroom is all yours.” He breezes past you, but stops before exiting the bedroom. “Um…” he turns around, “See you in the morning.” And then he’s walking out.
~~~~~~
You made eggs, bacon, pancakes, and have fresh fruit in a bowl all set up on the dining room table. For some reason you are too nervous to call out for Taehyung and let him know that breakfast is ready…you know, 30 minutes ago. You just patiently wait, sitting here tapping your fingers against the wooden table.
Another 20 minutes pass by when you hear faint footsteps from upstairs…he must now just be getting up, you think. You rush to reheat up some of the food before he makes his way downstairs. You set the bacon, eggs and pancakes back down on the table and make yourself busy like you haven’t just been waiting for almost an hour.
Taehyung finally walks through the kitchen, his face evident with sleep and his hair sticking out in all directions. He blinks at you lazily before his eyes widen in panic.
“B-Breakfast. I forgot—”
“It’s okay, I just finished.” You cut him off with a strained smile. “I see you like to sleep in.”
“Most days, yeah. Because I go to bed so late.” He admits sheepishly. Then he smirks. “Can that be fact number 1?”
“I’ll allow it.”
“Oh, you’ll allow it? How gracious of you.” Taehyung takes a seat at the dining room table and he starts with grabbing two pancakes from the pile and setting them down on his plate.
“You cooked all of this?” He asks, surprised.
“No, the other people who live here did it.” You deadpan.
“Always a smart ass.” He says while pouring syrup all over his pancakes, “Aren’t you going to sit down?”
“Right…” you make your way to the table and take a seat in front of him. You start with some pancakes as well, waiting for him to finish with the syrup so you can pour your own generous amount. He notices you waiting, his eyes finding yours and the corner of his mouth twitches into a sort of half smile. He slides the syrup across the table and your hand goes out to grab it, your fingers touching his.
“S-Sorry.”
“Sorry.”
You both get out at the same time. You stare at one another for another few seconds before Taehyung rolls his eyes,
“Big deal, our fingers touched. No need to get weird.” He chuckles, and you feel your heart feel all fucking weird.
“Anyway,” you clear your throat, “What’s fact number 2?”
Taehyung takes a bite of his pancakes and moans into the syrupy mess, his eyes finding yours again.
“Oh? You’re greedy for information.”
“I’m a little greedy.” You admit, “So?”
“Fact number 2…I’m almost 5’11.”
“So you’re 5’10. Just say you’re 5’10.”
“But I’m not just 5’10. Because I am almost 5’11.” He groans, “Can’t you just humor me here?”
“Okay Mister 5’11.” You laugh, “My fact number 2 is that I have one older sister.”
Taehyung nods his head, remembering the picture of you and some other girl that you looks a lot like you.
“I see.” He swallows his food, “So you’re the baby of your family?”
“Yes.”
“Yeah, I can tell.” He smirks at you, “You have that baby of the family vibe.”
“Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?” you give him a curious look and he looks at you like you can’t be serious.
“Because you’re…you know,” he gestures towards you with a knowing look and you scoff.
“No, I don’t know.”
“Brat.” He states simply. “Because you’re a brat.”
“Whatever.” You grab for some eggs and bacon, and Taehyung does the same.
“So, what’s fact number 3?” you ask, piling some eggs onto your plate.
“Already want the last fact? We are barely just eating.” Taehyung points out. He shovels some eggs onto his own plate once you are done, and sticks a piece of bacon into his mouth.
“Greedy, remember?” you remind him with a smirk. “So?”
“I’m sure you already gathered this but…I’m an aspiring musician.”
“I figured you were…that, or an artist.”
“Art is just a really fun hobby for me.” He admits. He loves to paint but singing and making music is where his true passion lies.
“What’s your last fact?” he stuffs his face with another piece of bacon, you watch him as he eats the crispy meat.
“Umm…” you look up at the ceiling as you think, “I used to think I looked bad in sun glasses but then I got over that…so now I buy any cool, funky sunglasses I can find.”
“That’s a really random fact.” Taehyung chuckles, “I like cool, funky sunglasses too.”
“Wow, are you saying we actually have something in common?” you tease, bringing a forkful of eggs to your mouth.
“Don’t get used to it.” He says dryly. “Since we said all of our facts, I guess I can go now.”
“You’re not going to finish your food? Taehyung…” you place your hands on the table. “They’re not going to assume just because we are talking that we are falling in love for Christ’s sake.”
“Don’t want to give them any ideas.” Taehyung says a bit harshly. Your face falls into a frown and you stand from the table.
“You can finish your food. I’ll leave.”
Taehyung blinks up at you and opens his mouth to say something but he remains quiet. You shake your head at him and walk off into the living room. If he wants to continue this “Little to no interaction” thing then so be it!
Taehyung sits here with his appetite lost. He holds his fork in his hand out in front of him and attempts to cut into his pancakes when he just gives up. He drops the fork onto the table and sighs out.
“y/n…” he calls out but you ignore him. “y/n!”
“Don’t talk to me.” You say with as much attitude you can muster and Taehyung silently mocks your words. He grabs his fork and aggressively cuts into his pancakes and takes a bite.
“Fine by me!” He yells out with his mouth full.
“You’re so annoying!” You groan and Taehyung silently mocks your words again but you can’t see him.
“And you’re a brat!” He says stuffing his mouth with another slice of pancake.
Great. For a moment there you thought you two could almost get along but he is set on this bullshit of not talking. You walk to the shelves in the living room and choose a new book, another romance novel. You take a seat on the couch, and curl up into a blanket. Taehyung can do whatever he wants! You’re going to enjoy your book and forget all about his annoying ass.
~~~~~~
Taehyung is finally dressed into some shorts and a sleeveless shirt as he makes his way out of the house. He is going to continue working on his little…project. You are probably wondering what he gets up to everyday, he thinks.
He is working on building a raft. He wants to escape this island but he doesn’t know how to build a fucking raft and this company didn’t necessarily give him the tools to escape. But he’s figuring it out. He is quite literally breaking tree branches and going from there. But it is taking time but apparently he has all the time in the world. 3 months? 6 months? A year or even more? He releases a long breath as he walks the path to where his “raft” is. If anything it’s just nice to get out of the house and breathe the island air. This whole thing kind of just gives him something to do and he knows this may not really work but he’s got to try. He’s a man of action after all.
He finally sees his “raft” chilling against a tree close to the beach and he walks up to it. Already feeling frustrated just looking at the pathetic thing. He has to make it big enough for two people…he isn’t an asshole, he doesn’t plan on escaping by himself, leaving you here.
He goes to his knees and holds it up, he feels his frustrations bubble over and he throws it to the ground. How the hell is he supposed to escape with this shitty thing?
He slams his eyes shut and sinks into the sand. He wants to go home. Things aren’t easy here…he can’t sleep. He is surprised he’s eating as much as he is, and he has mostly bad interactions with you. And he knows that it’s his fault. But he knows this is for the best but he can tell it’s not what you want. To be honest, this is actually really hard for him. He tries to come off as cold and closed off so you won’t take an interest in him but he’s dying! He wants to talk to you too! He is probably one of the most social of his friends! He has a lot of friends and he loves talking and hanging with them.
Taehyung feels his eyes become wet with hot tears and he grits he teeth together in irritation. He wishes he was home with his friends, with his family, with the girl he likes. He misses everyone so bad. He knows the night you two were “kidnapped” was the last day of the year, meaning they started this experiment January 1. He recalls his last few nights before the island…it was his birthday.
“No! I want him to open my present first!” Jimin whines and Taehyung can’t help the wide grin that adorns his face.
They’re all out at a bar, the music is loud and the alcohol is nonstop. Taehyung is surrounded by his closest friends, plus Hana—the girl Taehyung has been crushing on for the last year. She brought along a couple of her friends to this night out of celebration.
“He can open whoever’s he wants first…which is mine, right?” Jungkook hands Taehyung a box and Taehyung chuckles.
“Just for that, your two are going last.” Taehyung says, “How about I open Namjoon’s first since he planned this night?”
Namjoon gives the other two boys a cocky grin as he hands Taehyung a bag.
“Can I go after Namjoon?” Hana’s sweet voice is heard over the blaring music. She looks absolutely gorgeous tonight, her pink dress doing her a million favors. Not that she needs the favors, she’s always gorgeous.
“Y-Yeah.” Taehyung blushes, “But you didn’t have to get me anything…”
“Really? You practically yelled at us when you thought we weren’t getting you anything.” Jimin playfully comments.
“Shut up dude.” Taehyung grits out, “Anyway, let’s see what Joonie got me.”
The night went on, the music got louder, the alcohol kept on coming. Taehyung is so happy. Everything is perfect. He doesn’t think anything can ruin his good mood.
“Want to dance with me?” Hana’s words leave her pretty, pink lips and Taehyung finds himself nodding yes before he can even register what she said. He would literally do anything she wanted.
“Then come.” She waves him over with her small, manicured hand.
Hana and Taehyung end up on the dance floor for quite some time…he’s too drunk to be nervous like he usually is. His large hands grip at her tiny waist as he brings her in closer, she lightly moans when she feels his hard body against her.
“We should talk.” Hana breathes out, “About us.”
Taehyung’s eyes go wide, panic starting to make its way into his body.
“What about us?”
Hana chuckles lightly, she goes on her tip toes and places a soft, sweet kiss against Taehyung’s lips.
“Nothing bad, I promise.” She takes his hand and leads him outside the bar, out to a little patio. Taehyung has a huge smile on his face as he follows her outside…it’s not the first time they’ve kissed but he still can’t get used to it.
“You like me right?” she asks, pointing to herself. She’s got that sweet smile and Taehyung feels his nerves spiking.
“Yes.” He finally breathes out.
“Good. Because I like you too.” She admits, she closes her eyes for a moment, Taehyung spots the golden eye shadow that is painted over her lids. She opens her eyes again and he spots a sadness in them.
“But…” she begins and Taehyung feels his smile fade.
“But what?”
“No…it’s nothing.” She clears her throat, “You should take me on a date. And soon.” She giggles. Taehyung feels his smile grow and he nods his head.
“I would love to. We can—”
“Hey Tae!” Hobi’s voice cuts him off, “Yoongi says he just got off work and is on his way!!” He cheers happily. Taehyung turns to face Hobi and gives him a thumbs up before he’s spinning back around to Hana.
“Let’s go inside. We can discuss more on our date.” She smiles, taking his hand again.
“Sure.” Taehyung grins, his stomach doing a million flips. “Let’s go!”
Taehyung feels a few tears escape his closed eye lids as he sits in the sand. It’s too early to be in this state, Taehyung thinks. But alas, he can’t help it. He misses his life. This island put his life on complete hold. What if he’s stuck here for a year? Would Hana wait for him? It’s not like he’s expecting her to…but he thinks he would wait for her.
He stands to his feet, wiping his face of any leftover tears and he begins working for the day. He finds new trees with branches that would be easy to cut down and he resumes his little project. Hours and Hours go by and Taehyung is sitting on the beach’s sand and staring out at the water. He’s tired, he’s sweaty and he’s hungry.
Taehyung starts making his way back to the house now that the sun is setting. It’s pretty orange glow sets a relaxing mood and Taehyung feels grateful. He walks up to the side door that leads to the kitchen and watches you from the window. You look calm as usual and he feels himself feeling frustrated all over again…how are you so calm? He was having a meltdown on the beach earlier and here you are cooking dinner with a small smile on your face. He doesn’t understand you. Does this whole situation not bother you? No…he knows it has to bother you but how are you able to be so relaxed about it?
He opens the door and walks inside, startling you. You bring a hand to your heart when you see him but then visibly relax after a moment or two.
“You scared me.”
“Sorry.” He mumbles lamely. And then he’s walking up the stairs leaving you to your lonesome.
~~~~~
Month: 1
It’s been a month. A whole month! It seems Taehyung has gotten even more distant with you…no major interactions since you two had breakfast together. He keeps his comments to you brief in passing and he barely makes eye contact. You’re fed up. You’re lonely. You need interaction and you can’t always cater to him! He can suck it up for once and do what you want.
Feeling brave, you give yourself a pep talk in your bathroom mirror. That’s right, you are going to just go for it! You are going to demand that he hang out with you. You fix your hair in the mirror and nod to yourself. Yeah, you got this. You exit your room and stroll down the hall to his bedroom, once you are standing in front of it you lean your head against the door, your ear lying flat against it as you try to listen for him. The room sounds pretty quiet…maybe he’s sleeping? No, no. You’re just trying to find an excuse not to do this, aren’t you? Ugh, pathetic.
You raise your fist up and begin knocking on his door. You’re left with silence…you’re being ignored. So you knock again. And again. And ag—
“What?!” Taehyung swings open the door, revealing that he was indeed maybe sleeping. His hair is doing that funny thing where it sticks out in every direction and his eyes are barely open.
“This better be important.” He huffs out.
Suddenly, you feel a wave of shyness wash over you. You feel kind of bad you interrupted his nap…but you got to stay strong.
“Please hang out with me.” You blurt out.
“Huh?” Taehyung looks at you as if you’re crazy. “Not happening.” He quickly says.
“Just play a game with me, or maybe we could watch that movie…”
“I don’t want to do anything with you.” He raises his voice just the slightest and you flinch.
“Yeah? You think I want to do things with you? Like you specifically? Hell no! But I just want to do something damn it!” you flail your arms up, and breathe out heavily. “I am so fucking tired of always being by myself, it’s literally driving me insane.” You admit, you look off to the side as tears threaten to wet your eyes. “I am alone every single day. It has been a month, Taehyung? Did you know that? You’ve left me lonely for an entire month! I am going fucking crazy!” you bring your hands to your hips, “I have tried learning to cook all these god damn recipes as a way to distract myself but dude, I don’t even like cooking. I read all day too…I have all these imaginary book friends and that’s where I meet my social needs, isn’t that insane? Oh my god, I am going insane. And you?! How are you okay?!”
Taehyung is left speechless at your rant. He realizes that this loneliness is really getting to you…he admits he isn’t much better. But he kind of likes that you’re beginning to spiral. Is that mean?
“W-What game?” he juts out his bottom lip as his eyes slide to the side.
You stare at him with wide eyes as your chest heaves. You screw your eyes closed, and bring a hand to your head.
“What game?” you open your eyes to look at him, “That’s all you have to say?”
“What game y/n?”
You glare at him, huffing out deep breaths trying to calm yourself.
“Mortal Kombat.” You spit out, “I really want to kick your ass.”
Your fingers work the buttons on the controller as you test out every god damn combo you can…and damn it is working because you are on fire.
“You could have warned me that you actually know how to play…” Taehyung pouts.
“You should have just taken my word for it, you loser.” You continue to kick his ass in the game, you are pretty good at pretending his character is actually him.
“One more game, y/n.” Taehyung begs, “I will beat you!”
“You haven’t won even one match, Taehyung. Just admit you suck.” You chuckle darkly.
You press a few more buttons until you see the word ‘Fatality’ grace your screen, you stand up in excitement yelling out your victory, you laugh like a god damn maniac and he can’t help but chuckle. Taehyung throws his controller to the ground and pouts dramatically.
“I know what will make you feel better.” You turn to face him, calming down.
“Nothing will heal this wound, y/n.” He states, throwing the sofa’s designated blanket over his body.
“How about we watch that movie you like so much?” you offer with a smile but Taehyung goes stiff at your question.
“I think we should just call it for the day…” he looks awkwardly to the side and you slump your shoulders.
“Oh…okay.”
“Listen…it’s not you—”
“Just stop.” You hold your hand up, “You want nothing to do with me, I get it.”
“y/n…” Taehyung looks down at his hands…he does feel bad. It’s not like he didn’t have fun with you just now. He just wishes this was all different.
“I’ll be in my room—”
“Teach me how to make one of the recipes you learned.” He cuts in.
“What?” you ask, completely off guard. “What?” you repeat.
“I said,” Taehyung breathes out, “Teach me how to make one of the recipes you learned.” He’s not just trying to be nice…he’s also, you know, hungry.
You hate yourself because you light up like the sun almost immediately. You wish you were strong and you could tell him to fuck off but instead you become the god damn sun from how brightly you shine.
“Really?” you ask with the most hopeful eyes.
“Yeah.” Taehyung laughs, “Really.”
“You mean…you want to actually spend time with me?” you ask bluntly.
“I guess you can put it that way if it makes you feel better.” Taehyung rolls his eyes, but it’s in that playful way you only ever get to see so often.
“It does make me feel better actually.”
“Well, then.” He stands up and motions his hand towards the kitchen. “Shall we?”
“Are you going to be annoying the whole time?” you ask, “Or will you be serious about learning?”
“God, woman.” He rolls his eyes again. “I hope I annoy the shit out of you.”
“Oh, you already do.” You gesture for him to go to the kitchen first.
“You haven’t seen anything yet.”
“Somehow I believe you.” This time it’s your turn for the dramatic eye roll. “Now come on.”
“Oh my god. You aren’t even listening!” you yell out over Taehyung’s nonstop humming and whistling.
“I truly believe cooking is like an art, you know?” he continues to whistle some made up tune, “These instructions are like…a guide but you can kind of do what you…” he makes a fist with his hand and shakes it in front of his face. “… you want.” He finishes. “Yeah, these are more like suggestions.”
“Can we please just follow the directions.” You deadpan. “I want this to taste the way it’s supposed to!”
“You’re no fun.” Taehyung says nonchalantly. “Cooking should be fun.”
“Cooking is so we can eat.”
“These dumplings are going to taste fine, y/n.” He assures you with a grin.
“You say that but…” you look at his pile of failed dumplings. “But…” you show him with your hand the absolute mess he’s made.
“Your point?” He raises a single brow and you scoff. There’s no way he is serious, absolutely no way.
You notice Taehyung is staring at you, his eyes look everywhere but your eyes and you start to feel nervous under his gaze. He has one of those dark, intense gazes that you just can’t shake off your mind.
“What?” you finally ask. “Something on my face?” you joke.
“Actually, yes.” He blurts out. “So much flour.”
“Oh.” You start to turn red with embarrassment, “Where? Here?” you point to various spots on your face with a towel and he just shakes his head.
“No, there.” He points but you still miss it.
“Just clean it off me!”
“You want me to touch you?”
“Yes, please touch me.” Then your eyes expand in size. “Wait, that sounds wrong.”
“You have a dirty mind, y/n.” Taehyung shakes his head again, “You’re just all kinds of dirty.”
“Oh my god, stop.” You look at him with your flustered as hell face, your face is probably redder than ever and it feels so fucking hot.
“Here.” Taehyung grabs the towel from your hands and begins wiping your face clean. “Your face isn’t dirty anymore.” He pulls his hand back, “But your mind still is, huh?”
“Will you just shut up?”
“Will you just shut up?” he mocks how you usually would and you roll your eyes. Hard.
“Doesn’t feel good does it?” He teases, “Getting a taste of your own medicine.”
“Can we please just focus on this recipe?”
“Fine.” He breathes out, “Except I will ignore this recipe completely and do what I think my ancestors want me to do. They whisper in my ear that these need more garlic.”
“You are so annoying.”
“You are so annoying.”
“Okay, I get it, Taehyung.”
You reach behind you and untie your apron and place it on its hook by the pantry. You walk over to the dining room table and take a seat.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Taehyung quirks a brow as you rest your head on the table.
“Resting. Letting you do all the work. You can cook from now on. I give up.”
Taehyung shakes his pointer finger at you and walks your way.
“Oh no, no, no.” he grabs on to your arm and begins dragging you up. “This was your idea so we are cooking together.”
“Uh, actually this was your idea.”
“Oh.” Taehyung’s mouth hangs open as he realizes how true that is. “Not one of my better ideas…” he admits.
“Oh? Do you usually have good ideas?” You make your snarky comment and Taehyung let’s go of your arm.
“Usually the best.” He says, a cocky smile making its way on his stupidly handsome face.
“I don’t believe that for a second.”
“Well, you don’t know me.”
“Oh? And whose fault is that?” You jab at him and he visibly deflates.
“You know 3 things about me actually.” He gives you a half smile.
“All I remember is that you’re almost 5’11.”
“Well, that one was the most important. So your head is in the right place.”
Taehyung doesn’t realize it because you didn’t say anything but his face is full of flour as well. You stare up at him and start to laugh. Taehyung looks at you, confused. An adorable pout forms on his lips as he begs you to tell him what’s so funny.
“Your face.” You point at him and his fingers go to touch his skin.
“Clean me.” He commands. “I cleaned you, it’s only fair.” He points out.
You nod your head and walk towards the counter to grab the towel, Taehyung follows closely behind you. You turn around quickly and your chest bumps into his.
“Oh sorry.” He says while scratching the back of his neck, “I got too close.”
You nod lamely, but neither of you step back. Maybe expecting the other to do it? You decide to ignore that and you reach up to clean his face. He has flour everywhere. No joke. This dude is messy. You kind of laugh as you wipe his face clean, he can’t help but laugh too. His breath mingling with yours as you two giggle.
“We are kind of a mess.” He admits, his tone is soft—almost shy. You slow down the patting on his skin and you gaze into his eyes for a moment. They’re dark. They’re powerful. You feel yourself getting lost in the moment when Taehyung clears his throat and you bring your hand back down.
“There.” You say, “All done.”
“Should we finish cooking?” Taehyung grins down at you.
“I don’t know, what do your ancestors say?”
“They say you’re a smart ass.”
~~~~~~
“Do you think we could…we could do this again?” You and Taehyung are standing outside your bedroom door. Why did Taehyung walk you all the way to your door? The world may never know.
“Do what exactly?” he asks as he sways back and forth in front of you
“Play a game…or cook dinner…or you know just hang out.”
“Maybe… once a week we can play a game or watch a movie or something…” he gets out awkwardly.
“Wow, you’ll grace me with your presence once a week?” you roll your eyes, “How generous of you.”
“Listen…” Taehyung looks at you more seriously, “I know social contact is important for like, our mental health or whatever. But we shouldn’t push it.”
“You’re so…”
“I’m so what?” Taehyung steps forward and you gulp.
“So unfair.” You whisper. Taehyung bows his head down, he feels like he is shrinking. Because you’re right, he is being totally unfair. But he thinks this is the right move, the smart move.
“Y/n…” he sighs, “I’m doing this so we can leave.”
“And what if your little strategy isn’t working? It’s been a month Taehyung.” You point out, “And we’re still here.”
“I know, I know. Jesus, woman.” He breathes out, his dark eyes finding yours. “Look, they will get bored with us.”
“How can you be so sure?” you step forward. “What if we aren’t boring to them?” you whisper, your eyes staying on his.
“That’s why we should interact as little as possible.”
“Taehyung. No offense. But do you really think I want to interact with you?” you spit out, “I just need something, anything. I just need someone.” You step closer, “And you happen to be the only person here.”
Taehyung’s brows pinch together as he looks down at you, a frown decorating his face. He…he doesn’t want to be hurt by that.
“Once a week y/n. That’s all I can offer you.” He steps closer to you, his feet bumping into yours, “Don’t get greedy on me.”
You tilt your head up and chuckle,
“I told you I’m greedy though.” Your eyes stay on his, his piercing gaze causing you to shudder but you don’t break contact and neither does he. He’s challenging you, you can feel it. His eyes begin to narrow as he stares down at you, you wonder what he is thinking. He sighs out, his breath hitting your face and you blink up at him. You’re about to say something, anything when his tongue darts out to wet his lips. You mean to keep your eyes on his eyes, you really do but you don’t. You hate yourself for dropping your gaze down to his lips. He smirks as realization hits him.
“Goodnight y/n.” He says, his voice so deep and low it catches you off guard. Then he’s stepping away from you and heading towards his room, leaving you at your door. You release the longest, shakiest breath as you watch him disappear.
You open the door to your bedroom and walk inside, you wish you could yell out in frustration. You wish you could scream into your pillow and know for sure he can’t hear you. You wish you weren’t here.
You change into some sleep clothes and slide into bed. You pull the blanket up to your nose and kick your legs dramatically. This guy is so annoying! Why can’t he just not care and live life normally so you can be normal too! Listen, you aren’t fucking thrilled about this either. But you’re handling it a lot better than he is. Why is that…? Why are you handling this so well? Maybe it’s because your real life is a fucking mess and this truly is the vacation you needed. You know, you know how pathetic that sounds.
You close your eyes and try to sleep but memories of your real life keep hitting you. You hate this. You hate all of this. You’re lonely. You’re all alone. In this this life on the island but also in your real life. You’re so fucking alone. You feel tears prick your eyes and you let yourself quietly sob for who knows how long. You wish you had someone to lean on…just in general. But you lost all of your friends at work…you lost your boyfriend…you only have your parents and even they are fed up with you.
After crying tears after tears you decide you’re thirsty. You tip toe out of bed and make your way downstairs…the house is so quiet and dark. It’s relaxing and also depressing. You finally make it to the kitchen when you scream bloody murder. Sitting in the dark at the dining room table is Taehyung.
“Wow, y/n. It’s not next week yet.” He jokes. You quickly turn on the dining room light and look at him like he’s insane.
“You fucking scared me!” you exclaim loudly, “And why are you awake?”
“I have trouble sleeping…” he admits, he scratches the back of his neck and gives you a sheepish grin. “What about you?”
You step closer to the table and Taehyung’s eyes slightly expand. He notices your swollen eyes and puffy lips. Had you been crying?
“Hey…are you okay?” he whispers out, standing from his chair.
“Don’t act like you care so suddenly.” Your eyes slide to the side, “I’m fine.”
Taehyung looks down, guilt burying itself into his body. He looks up at you and tries to speak but he doesn’t know what to say.
“I just came down for some water.” You tell him. “That’s all.” You walk over to the fridge for the pitcher of cold water then you walk to the cabinet and try to grab a glass from the top shelf but you struggle. You huff out and close your eyes in frustration when you feel Taehyung’s chest on your back.
“I’ll grab it for you.” He says softly. He reaches for a glass and hands it to you, you take it from him and offer him a small thanks.
“See? That’s something only people who are almost 5’11 could do.” He teases and you look at him with a serious expression. You look down at your feet and sigh out before you let a giggle slip between your lips.
“Goodnight Taehyung.” You look up to study his face, and you see his smile fade.
“What?” you ask.
“Once a day.” He says. “We can hang out once a day. But that’s it.”
You feel your heart do something funny…you feel your tummy doing something weird too. You feel your entire chest get hit with a wave of….something.
“It’s fine, Taehyung.” You finally say after a quiet moment, “I don’t want to push you.”
“This isn’t for you.” He smiles, “I think I need the social contact too.”
“Well, no fucking duh.” You state with the roll of your eyes. “We can’t isolate ourselves…it’s so unhealthy.”
“I get it.” He breathes out, “So, I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“And every day after that until we’re out of this place.”
~~~~~~~~
The next couple of days you and Taehyung play some games or watch a movie together, just doing at least one activity a day. Just like he said you two would. Admittingly you do feel better about this arrangement. Not talking at all was a pain in the ass and terribly lonely. Sometimes Taehyung will come to the living room and play a game by himself while you read, just sharing a space without really talking, even after he did his one activity with you. You hate to admit how much you like that he does that.
It’s not like you want to get to know him specifically…but you would like to sort of know the person you are living with…that makes sense, right? It’s not him! It’s just that he’s the only person here…and you want a friend. Yes, you can admit you want a friend. You aren’t going to fall in love with the dude…you just want someone to talk to and hang out with. God, is that such a crime? Plus, you’re in no place for love. If the company truly knows you, with their “research” and all then they should know you are not ready for any type of romantic relationship.
You lay here on the couch, your legs hung over the arm of it while you stare up at the ceiling. It’s hot out today and this house happens to come with a lovely pool. The ocean is scary so no beach for you…but pool? Yes. You lay here, wondering what Taehyung is up to. He went out again today like he usually does, you wonder if you can ask him about it now…now that you guys aren’t on total terrible terms. Nah, you will wait a little longer before you ask. Instead, you rise from the sofa and head upstairs to change into a swim suit.
You have a lot of options, to be honest. This place did not lack on the clothing items! You decide on a simple dark green bikini, you try it on and decide you like the way it looks. A lot actually. Have you lost some weight? You guess the lack of fast food options has made you a little slimmer, and the amount of fresh food that’s available here. Plus you started lightly working out in the home gym, sweating a storm.
You head back downstairs and go to the back where the absolutely lovely porch is located…it’s a whole wooden deck. With a glamorous pool in the center and a hot tub off to the side. You wish you really lived in a place like this—not here, specifically. (For obvious reasons) You shrug off the towel that’s wrapped protectively over your body and make your way to the pool. You don’t know what you’re being self-conscious for…Taehyung doesn’t usually come back until sunset and it’s barely the afternoon.
You dip your toes in the water first…it’s pretty chilly but you handle it, dipping your body further and further into the water. You shiver just a bit before dunking your head underneath, letting the water consume you. You stay underwater, opening your eyes and staring at the blue nothingness.
“I love you.” He says for the first time, making you float on air. You knew he was going to say it soon, you could feel it but you were not expecting it here.
You two are sitting at Cozy Coffee, your favorite place to relax and read and write. You are in the middle of writing a very intriguing sentence when your fingers stop typing in reaction to his confession.
“You what?” you ask, a small smile adorning your face. “You love me?”
“Yes.” He reaches for your hand across the table, “But you already knew that, didn’t you?”
“I had a feeling.” You tease. “But I…”
“You don’t have to say it yet if you aren’t ready,” he squeezes your hand, “I can wait.”
“No!” you squeeze his hand back, “I…love you too.” You admit softly.
He brings his hand back, folding his hands together out in front of him and sighs out, his breaths escaping him softly.
“These past 6 months with you y/n…” he begins, “Have been the most wonderful.”
“They have been pretty nice, haven’t they?” you smirk. “Tell me your favorite part?”
“Any part where you’re naked, for sure.” He laughs and you gasp.
“Hey! Behave.” You warn with a smile and he keeps laughing.
“I’m serious, this is the best relationship I have ever had. You’re definitely the best girlfriend…all these other girls have been crazy.”
You frown at that, “Why crazy?”
“Ugh, you know how women can get.”
You don’t like the way he said that, you feel your smile twist into another frown.
“What do you mean?”
“It doesn’t matter. Because you aren’t like that. You’re different.”
You smile again, once again feeling special with his praise.
“Different how?”
“Jeez, you ask a lot of questions.” He half jokes. “I don’t know, you just are.”
The water is starting to sting your eyes as you continue to hold your breath, memories flooding you. This water isn’t the only thing trying to drown you. You finally squeeze your eyes shut and swim up to the surface, gasping for air once you reach it. You breathe out heavily as you try to catch a breath, your wet hair dripping down your just as wet face. You swim to the edge of the pool and lift yourself up on the ledge and sit with your legs still in the water.
Why do you have to think of him?
After an hour or so that passes and plenty of sun later you decide you’ve had enough of the day outside. You stand to your feet and grab your towel and dry off, draping the towel over your right arm. You’re still pretty wet you admit, but nothing crazy. You head for the house, walking through the back door. Once you enter the house the cool AC hits you, causing you to shiver but you decide a warm shower will solve this. You turn the corner in the hall to head upstairs when your body slams into another body. You run into Taehyung hard causing you to tumble over and fall on top of him.
Taehyung yelps out when he makes contact with you, his body falling to the hard tiled floor and he winces. You fall on top of him, your chest smooshing his face. Yeah, your boobs in his face. That’s what that fucking means. Your wet boobs in his sweaty face.
“What the hell?” Taehyung mumbles between your breasts, “Get off me.”
You’re quick to try to scramble off his body, your hands landing in all the wrong places as you try to lift yourself. He groans loudly when you make contact with his lower hips and his hands go to grab your wrists trying to stop you from moving around so much.
“Chill, chill.” He breathes out slowly, still holding on to your wrists. He makes his way out from beneath you and pulls you up by the wrists.
“I wasn’t this sweaty before you ran into me…” Taehyung observes, “How wet are you?”
“I wasn’t this wet until running into you. How fucking sweaty are you?!”
“Fair.” Taehyung says with a smirk, then he’s blinking at you. “You went swimming today?” he eyes you up and down and you immediately feel insecure under his intense gaze.
“Uh, yeah.” You take the towel that’s draped around your arm and go to cover yourself with it.
“Why are you getting shy now?” as sly smile draws itself on Taehyung’s face. “You didn’t seem this shy just a moment ago with your tits in my face?” he questions with a low voice.
“Oh my god, can we not bring that up?” you begin to blush and you hate yourself for it.
“Why not?”
“It was an accident first of all. There will never be a time again where my boobs are in your face.”
“Oh you’re making the company sad.” Taehyung pouts.
“Shut up.” You roll your eyes and Taehyung laughs. His laughter dies down though when he shamelessly eyes you again.
“Green is my favorite color.” He says while walking past you and heading upstairs.
You stand here, embarrassed as fucking usual. Your whole body warming up and you don’t even feel that cold AC any longer. You breathe in and breathe out. Taehyung is not making this stay very easy, is he?
~~~~~~
Month: 2
“Don’t you use that blue shell!” You scream at the air around you, your eyes concentrating on the screen ahead.
Taehyung smirks, working his fingers on the controller. God, he can really move his fingers. Wait, why the hell would you think that?
“Don’t tell me what to do!”
You are both totally immersed in your game, the finish line in sight. You jump to your feet in rushed excitement as the finish line is soon approaching. You need this win to tie with him on your ongoing competition in Mario Kart. You’re both oh so close, the anticipation rising. Like, honestly you might shit yourself. Taehyung also leaps to his feet, joining you at your side. Now you are both screaming at the screen, your throats will totally pay for this later. You are jumping up and down, yelling at one another , slamming your fingers on the controllers, harshly pressing down on the accelerator button. You can see it. Its literally right in front of you! AND you are ahead of him! The finish line! Your screams getting louder and louder…when…you are graced with a black screen.
“WHAT THE FUCK?!” You yell in unison.
You turn to face Taehyung, the one you hate the most right now. Your eyes dark and your voice low.
“What did you do?”
“ME? I didn’t do anything!” He says accusingly.
“You must have! You knew I was going to win—”
“First of all, we don’t know that.” He cuts you off all matter of fact. So annoying.
You look at him incredulously.
“THAT’S IT! I’m going to strangle you!” Before you can take a step towards him to you know, kill him, the screen turns a bright white, catching your attention. Lucky dude. Your focus now on the screen, you look at it with your head tilted to the side. There are black letters at the top of the screen and you decide to read out loud whatever this caption says.
“Re…Request?” your eyes scan the word slowly. “Oh. Oh shit,” Your eyes go wide, you turn to face Taehyung, his expression mirroring your own. You had completely, like completely forgot about the ‘Requests’. It has been a couple months of silence so how could you not forget? You wonder if this company is finally ready to move …this…along. Whatever this is.
Only seconds pass before more black words appear on the screen. Your eyes stay on Taehyung though, too nervous to read what comes next.
Taehyung must realize you have no intention on reading anymore because he exhales deeply and faces the screen.
“Okay, here goes…” he begins, “The two subjects must…”
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reinerispretty · 3 years
Text
warm hands. (mako x f!reader) rewrite.
hello everyon!! a while ago i wrote a request called warm hands that got deleted by tumblr when i tried to edit the post on mobile :/ i’ve been on this hellsite for years and it still sucks but ANYWAY. as a thank you for supporting me and also as an apology for not updating lmao i wanted to repost a better version i wrote <3 much love to u and to mako
She turned to the man standing just a few feet away from her, surprised at how familiar his face had looked. His jet black hair, thick eyebrows, and golden eyes were from somewhere, but (Y/N) couldn’t place if she had dreamt about someone like him or had actually met him.
It would bug her the rest of the day if she didn’t say anything to him, so she had. “Excuse me,” She said, lightly touching his arm to get his attention. “Sorry to bother you, you just look really familiar to me.”
He had stared down at her silently, his brows furrowed, and in normal circumstances (Y/N) would have felt absolutely mortified...
There were dozens of libraries within Republic City, yet so far none of them had what (Y/N) was looking for. She had spent her entire day off trekking through the busy streets and bustling sidewalks, hailing cab after cab until her resources ran just low enough where she would have to be very picky about what groceries she picked this week. Sweat dripped down the back of her neck as she walked toward her destination. Summer was in full swing and it felt like the sun was after her specifically. She wiped a bead of sweat from her brow. So far, she had visited fifteen libraries, and was walking up the steps of the very last, hoping that someone inside would be able to help her with her request.
She passed through the double doors and was met with a rush of cold air that sent a chill down her spine. She must look ridiculous, she thought, as she approached the information desk. An old woman was positioned behind it, her back hunched over a book. She hadn’t heard (Y/N) approach, so the young girl rang the bell that set on the counter. The old woman jumped back, a startled expression on her lined face.
“I’m sorry!” (Y/N) exclaimed, then clasped a hand over her mouth. This was a library, she had to watch her volume in here. “Sorry,” She said again, her voice lower. “I was wondering if you could help me with something? I’ve been looking all over town for books on firebending and I can’t seem to find any.”
“We’ve got some!” The woman chirped, seeming to have recovered from her startle. She rose slowly to her feet and grabbed her cane. “Although they’re not technique books, if that’s what you’re looking for. My grandson has a great firebending academy just down the street if you’re interested.”
“Oh, no,” (Y/N) said as she followed the old woman through the enormous stacks of bookcases. “I don’t need any training, I’m just looking for a fact book or something like it.” The woman nodded and silently led (Y/N) to a very dimly lit section of the library. Just as (Y/N’s) feet began to ache from walking, they stopped, and the librarian pointed her cane up at the top shelf. It was out of her reach, but just within (Y/N’s).
“That’s the one you’re looking for,” She said, smiling pleasantly. (Y/N) looked up and found an enormous book, bound in red cloth with the Fire Nation emblem on the side. She reached up and took it into her arms, nearly toppling over at its sheer weight.
“Thank you,” (Y/N) strained herself to say. The librarian nodded once more before disappearing into the stacks of books. (Y/N) waddled herself over to a table in a more well-lit section of the library and sat down.
She had never cared much for bending. Being a nonbender herself in a nonbending family, she had watched indifferently as some of her classmates developed their bending skills. (Y/N) was always able to get through life without bending, so she had never thought of it as something important. Even probending, which rocked the city with its competitions, had never interested her.
(Y/N) sighed as she turned to the first page. To think, she was going to all of this trouble for a boy.
(Y/N’s) older brother had known Mako first, when they were just kids. Both worked for the Triple Threat Triads for a number of years. (Y/N) had remembered Mako as the serious (and slightly intimidating) friend of her brother’s that would stand outside waiting while her brother tried to convince her to cover for him. He might not have been a bender, but he was as strong as a platybus bear for a boy of fifteen, so the Triads made great use of him. (Y/N) had never liked it, but she always lied to their parents on his behalf. Sometimes, she had glared down at Mako from her bedroom window, and it seemed like some nights he frowned right back up at her.
This was all years ago, of course. Once her brother went off to join the United Forces, (Y/N) had forgotten all about Mako. It wasn’t until this past spring that she had seen him again. They had been waiting for their food outside of a soup shop. It had been the lunch hour, so (Y/N) had known they would take a while, but she didn’t mind, because she liked to people watch in order to keep herself occupied. She turned to the man standing just a few feet away from her, surprised at how familiar his face had looked. His jet black hair, thick eyebrows, and golden eyes were from somewhere, but (Y/N) couldn’t place if she had dreamt about someone like him or had actually met him.
It would bug her the rest of the day if she didn’t say anything to him, so she had. “Excuse me,” She said, lightly touching his arm to get his attention. “Sorry to bother you, you just look really familiar to me.”
He had stared down at her silently, his brows furrowed, and in normal circumstances (Y/N) would have felt absolutely mortified to be having this exchange with a total stranger, but something about him was different. She felt calm around him.
“I know you from somewhere, too,” The man said then, a small smile appearing on his face. “Did your brother used to work for-“
“The Triads!” (Y/N) finished, whispering the words excitedly because you couldn’t just shout the name of one of the leading gangs in Republic City in a crowd full of people. “You’re…Mako, right?”
“You must have a great memory, it’s been years since I’ve waited outside your house for your brother to come down.” (Y/N) laughed. “If I remember correctly, you used to give me the evil eyes from your bedroom window.” She smiled.
“That was me!” She extended her hand. “I’m (Y/N). It’s nice to officially meet you.”
“Same here,” Mako said, shaking her hand. “How’s your brother doing?”
“Very well, I think! He’s with the United Forces now, so I don’t hear much from him, but his last letter sounded very promising.”
“I’m glad to hear that.”
“How are you doing? I’ll have to write to him about you, I’m sure he’ll be so excited to hear it.”
“Oh, I’m fine. Joined the Republic City Police, so I guess I’m arresting the people I used to work with.” He shrugged.
“Beats getting arrested,” (Y/N) offered, and Mako cracked a smile.
“It sure does.” Her order was called from the counter, and (Y/N) scurried over to pick it up. When she returned, Mako had his own food in hand.
“Before you go,” (Y/N) started, and it was like the words would come out of her mouth before she had the chance to stop them. “Would you like to get a cup of coffee with me sometime? I’d love to give my brother a detailed description of what you’ve been up to.” She was never this bold, but it was like something else entirely had overcome her. He was handsome, and it was just a cup of coffee. Nothing too scary.
Mako had agreed to the cup of coffee that week and one cup had turned into three before turning into dinner. It had been nearly eight months since they met and the majority of their free time away from their jobs was spent together. Things were surprisingly easy with Mako. He was a fantastic listener and offered her the advice that she needed to hear. He had a bit of a rough shell on the outside, but (Y/N) worked tirelessly to break through it and revealed a man capable of so much love that she came to learn very few had ever actually given him it in return.
She was always completely lost when he talked about his probending days, but she enjoyed hearing him talk about his youth so much that it had set her on a course of research. (Y/N) was at the library today to better understand firebending. It was part of Mako, and she loved Mako (even if she hadn’t admitted it), so she would learn to love firebending as well.
She read for hours, until the sun had set outside and lanterns were lit within the space. (Y/N) looked up from her book, eyes heavy and dry from reading so many pages. She had only made it about halfway through the book, so she checked out the heavy title from the librarian at the front and made her way home. Mako would be working the night shift that night, so she didn’t have to worry about any interruptions.
---
Mako wasn’t quite sure what had gotten into his girlfriend. (Y/N) couldn’t bend. Not that there was anything wrong with that of course, Mako respected nonbenders just as much as benders (except for, y’know, the Amon thing), but lately (Y/N) had become a walking fountain of knowledge on firebending. At first he hadn’t thought anything of it, but as it continued on he started to sense that something was up.
The first time it had happened was on one of Mako’s days off. He had slept in late even though (Y/N) had promised to wake him up. With disheveled hair and his eyes squinting at the bright late morning light, he shuffled into the kitchen to give his girlfriend a very soft piece of his mind. She was scrambling eggs in front of the stove, turning to look back at him with a smile brighter than the sun. Mako allowed himself a smirk before his face turned stern.
“You were supposed to wake me up,” He had said, his voice gruff from having not been used. (Y/N) shrugged.
“I don’t think an earthquake could’ve woken you up,” She said in her defense. “Plus, you deserve extra sleep.” She had poked him in the stomach. “Firebenders can’t firebend if they’re exhausted.” Mako had chuckled. It sounded like the sort of thing mothers told their children in order to get them to go to bed.
But a few days later, she had mentioned something similar. They had been walking down the streets of Republic City, on their way to go visit Korra and Asami for lunch, when (Y/N) stopped suddenly in front of a store display. Mako jerked backward, unaware that she had paused.
“Do you know what that is?” She asked, looking up at him with an expression that indicated that she was testing him. Mako stared at the storefront.
“A clearance sign?” He questioned. (Y/N) had rolled her eyes.
“Not that,” She sighed, and pointed her finger at the tapestry that was hung in the back of the store. How she had spotted that from the corner of her eye, Mako had no idea, so he shrugged. “It’s the symbol of the Sun Warriors,” She explained. “They were the first firebenders, after the dragons, of course. They’re extinct now, I think.” (Y/N) smiled up at him while he raised an eyebrow at her. He cracked a smile before tugging at her hand.
“I’m about to go extinct if we don’t get some lunch.”
The biggest indicator by far had been the other night, when he was getting ready to leave for work. (Y/N) had sat on the bed as he stood in front of the mirror and buttoned up his uniform. He kept spares at (Y/N’s) place now, since he spent nearly every night there anyway.
She was looking at him with an expression he had never seen before. It was like she was analyzing him. Mako turned around as he finished the last button, but before he could speak, she beat him to it.
“How do you do it?” She asked, and Mako furrowed his dark brows.
“Do what?”
“Bending.” She looked into his eyes at this point and Mako had felt his heart swell. He had a hard time transmitting the emotions that he was feeling inside to his appearance outside. If he could, he would have melted into a puddle on the floor for this girl. In a matter of a few months she had become something to aim toward, to strive for. Catching criminals and solving cases mattered to him, but not nearly as much as returning to her apartment in one piece.
He cleared his throat. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t understand it, you know? How does it happen? Do you just think about it and it happens? Or do you have to focus?”
“A bit of both, I guess,” Mako said. “When you’re first learning, it takes a lot of focus to master a new move. But once you’ve got it, it kind of becomes second nature.” He sat on the bed beside her to put on his work boots. “It’s like writing something. When you were little, you had to think about how to hold the pen, how to form the letters, what the letters meant. Now you just know.”
“Do you have to think about using lightning rather than fire?” Mako shook his head.
“It’s different movements.” She hummed, staring down at her hands as she contemplated what he just told her. Mako checked his watch for the time. “I’ve got to head out.”
“Okay,” She said as she turned toward him. “Be safe! And don’t forget to invite Bolin over for dinner this weekend.”
Mako let out an exaggerated sigh, at which (Y/N) frowned. “I’m serious Mako,” She continued. “I’ll call Bolin myself to make sure you ask him!”
“Why don’t you ask him?” Mako asked as he packed his badge and wallet.
“It’ll mean more if it’s coming from his big brother.” Mako leaned down and cradled the back of her neck with his hand, leaning for a kiss to which she happily obliged. Mako had many favorite things about (Y/N), but perhaps his most favorite was how she smiled into every kiss he gave her.
“I’ll be sure to let him know,” Mako had said as he ran out of her apartment. If he was late again, Chief Beifong would kill him.
Mako contemplated these instances as he walked back to her apartment. (Y/N) had never expressed very much interest in bending, pardoning recent weeks. He wondered what had gotten her so curious. Perhaps she listened to a new radio show that talked about it. Mako never really listened to the radio anymore—he used to, but Bolin talked over all of the stations so he just turned it off whenever he was in the car.
He hadn’t told her that he would be coming back to her place tonight. He hadn’t entirely been planning on it, but one of the rookies was somehow put in charge of the schedule and put Mako and a kid named Lee on the same shift. Considering Mako had the seniority, he had gotten the night off, but not before completing the copious amounts of paperwork that had piled on his desk. It was nearing one in the morning, so (Y/N) would be fast asleep, but he figured she would enjoy seeing him again. Or at least, he hoped so.
To improve his chances of not facing the wrath of disturbing her slumber, Mako stopped by a late night dessert shop and picked up some of her favorites before returning on his way. When he finally opened the door to her apartment, Mako was unsurprised to find that every light was off, save for the light that peaked underneath her bedroom door.
Mako took his shoes off at the front and dropped the desserts on the kitchen counter before quietly making his way to her bedroom. (Y/N) lay curled up underneath her covers, fast asleep, with the biggest book Mako had ever seen lying beside her. He lifted the heavy book into his arms and thumbed through the pages. Each and every chapter was about firebending. Its origins, its practices, and its faults. Mako smiled to himself. So that’s how she had become a walking encyclopedia.
He changed into his pajamas and slid into bed beside her. Startled, she opened her tired eyes and furrowed her brows at him. “Chief let me go early,” He whispered to her, reaching over her body to turn off her lamp. “Go back to sleep.”
Instead she moved closer to his body and took his hands in hers. “I was reading,” She whispered slowly, as if her brain was cranking back to life. “That firebenders can control the heat in their bodies.” She placed his hands just below her bellybutton. “My cramps are really bad tonight, can you—”
Mako pulled her into his body and kissed her shoulder, spreading his hand wide so that it would cover as much surface area as possible. She hummed as she felt the warmth emanating from his hands. “Thank you.” After a few minutes, her even breathes indicated that she was asleep.
Mako wondered then if he had been the reason that (Y/N) had a newfound fascination with firebending. While he was a great detective, he was absolutely clueless. She had gotten a whole book about firebending, had shared her knowledge to let him know that she cared about something that she had never cared about before. Mako pressed his face into the crook of his neck to hide the wide smile that no one would see.
(Y/N) wanted to know more about firebending because it was part of who he was. No one had ever taken such an interest in Mako’s passions. He had figured before, but was now certain, that he loved the girl in his arms so, so dearly.
---
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messrmoonyy · 3 years
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really, really random but do you think you could write a shot of half blood prince tonks on christmas alone and she puts on the record player and dances to christmas music? (i know this is very specific ahaha)
I lovveeed this request so much! Thank you for sending it. I did write the whole thing and then re read the prompt and see if kinda strayed away from the prompt slightly, you asked for record player, so she does actually use a cassette player but I still hope you enjoy it!
As always request are open! Drop me an ask!
Check my Masterlist too!
Pairing: Remus lupin x Nymphadora Tonks ( only mentions of Remus. He does not appear )
Warnings: none. Just a very mopey Nymphadora
Tonks had never been one to take love all that seriously. In fact she’d thrown the word around almost carelessly, never really taking to its true weight and meaning. Falling in love with more people that she could count now. A ravenclaw girl in third year, a slytherin one in fourth, two different hufflepuff boys in Fifth and countless other short lived romances since. But when she looked back now she realised they weren’t really love at all. Because they hadn’t felt like she did now. When she thought of him. Remus.
It caused an ache in her chest, so deep it physically pained her. She knew that nothing else could hurt her as badly as this, only love. She hadn’t even meant to fall for him, she hadn’t planned to. He was wildly interesting and not to bad on the eye either, but she hadn’t being trying. It had just… happened. Friendly conversation became friendly touches. Friendly touches became late nights snuggled in the library by the fire. Which had become hand holding. Which had become kisses. And now… it had become heartbreak.
The argument they had had before he’d announced his departure had been a brutal one. She guessed it didn’t help that emotions were already running far too high with everything happening around them. She’d shouted. He’d shouted right back. He’d told her nothing she would say would ever change his mind and he was leaving. It was duty. His role in the war effort. To put his life as at risk as ever and plant himself in a werewolf camp for months on end. It’d ruin him, she knew it would. He’d told her about it from the first war, how much he hated it. How much it made him feel like an animal. Feral. Inhuman.
But she’d told him to go. Shouted at him and told him to get out of her sight, to go if that’s what he truly wanted. To never come back to her again.
She regretted that now. Of course she did. She wanted nothing more than to leave her parents house and turn up at Grimmauld place, drink tea and hot chocolate with him in the library, dance around to Sirius’ old records and talk about everything and nothing until the sun came up. But of course she couldn’t. Because he was gone.
To make everything truly worse, as another blinding hot blade to her chest, she couldn’t even turn to Sirius about it. Because he was gone too. And he really was never coming back. The loss of Sirius and her still healing injury from Bellatrix had knocked her down already, Remus leaving had just been the final kick. And it had all taken its toll.
She couldnt morph. Not a single fingernail would change the way she wanted. Thankfully for her she’d never really been one for tweaking her face dramatically , like she knew some with her powers did. But she felt lost without her bright hair, the tiny little tweaks to her nose and cheeks. She didn’t recognise herself anymore. She didn’t understand the face of the woman that looked back at her in the mirror, all limp dark hair and hollow cheeks. She wanted to blame him. Wanted to use it as some way to make her hate him. Forget him. So at least she couldn’t be relieved of at least one burden of pain, leave her with one less knife in her heart. But she couldn’t. No matter how hard she tried to.
“ You gonna come down love? Your mums made you some dinner. Even got some apple crumble for pud. Yeah? Try eat a bit for us? “ her dad appeared at her old bedrooms door, knocking slightly as he spoke. It had felt odd being back at her parents house again for Christmas, she’d hadn’t visited in longer than she wanted to admit. Work ask the order had been running her to exhaustion everyday. She’d hoped being back home would bring her some comfort. Being around her childhood things. But it hadn’t really been working so far.
Her mum kept silently crying to herself over Sirius, every now and then she’d look over at her and see tears streaming over her cheeks as she cleaned or cooked. Misery just seemed to follow her whether she went now.
“ Dora love? “ she turned around when he’d dad spoke again and forced a small smile onto her face.
“ yeah. Be down in a minute… save me a piece of crumble “ Ted gave her a sympathetic smile and quietly left her. One thing she loved about her dad was he knew when she didn’t want to talk, and left her alone when she needed it. Andromeda was one to fuss.
She took a deep breath and made her way out of the room and downstairs, knowing Andromeda would only send Ted back up if she didn’t surface within a few minutes. They were both sat at the table when she walked into the dining room, her father looking up with a cheerful smile.
“ here she is! C’mon petal before it gets cold “ Andromeda’s eyes were bloodshot as was the norm nowadays, she’d tried she her best to hide the fact she’d been crying. But there were still tracks in the makeup on her cheeks.
The entire house had been decorated for Christmas and she thought the fairy lights and the tinsel should be cheering her up. But she found it wasn’t. Even her dads cheesy Christmas jumpers weren’t making her crack her smile.
Dinner was painfully silent for the most part. Ted occasionally tried to get both women to talk about something but conversation constantly fell flat. She looked at her parents as he silently tried to coax Andromeda to talk, holding her hand under the table and looking at her with the same amount of pure love he always had done.
Tonks had always wanted a relationship like theres. And she thought she’d been getting there. Remus had looked at her like that. Gazing at her when he thought she wasnt paying attention to him. Sharing his mug of tea with her at order meetings, waiting up for her if she had a late shift at the ministry, making sure she had something to eat before she slept. Little things. Small ways he told her he felt the same as she did.
Until he’d thrown it all back in her face.
When Andromeda cleared their plates and went to fetch dessert, Ted too disappeared of a moment only to return with his hand behind his back and a grin.
“ look what I found today love. Remember this aye? “ he held his hand out with a proud look on his face. It was a cassette. One he’d made up for her himself when she was little. She’d always been fascinated with muggle things and she still had the cassette player buried up in her room somewhere “ your Christmas one! Fitting “ she took with the first genuine smile she’d mustered in a while.
“ thanks dad. It’s Brilliant honestly “ he sat back down again when crumble was served but his proud smile didn’t drop.
After dinner she made her way back up to her room with a muttered excuse of being tired and locked herself in. The cassette tucked into the pocket of her jeans. She rummaged around the various boxes of junk in her room until she found the player and pulled out the tape. She smiled slightly when she found the tape wonkily labeled ‘ Doras muggle Xmas songs ‘ , putting it into the player and waiting for it to play.
The first beats of ‘last Christmas’ started playing and she practically felt her hurt slipping away from her shoulders. She turned the volume up, the headphones now blasting the voice of George Michael into her ears and she forgot about her troubles for a while.
She danced around with the first full genuine smile she had in weeks on her face, every song that played transporting her back to some memory from her childhood. Even the slower ones had her smiling, waltzing with herself around her room. until the tape came to an end with silent night. She stopped dancing and the smile dropped as the almost hauntingly beautiful song played. She’d danced with Remus to the very song on that first Christmas of her being in the order.
She’d turned up at Grimmauld place on Boxing Day, on Sirius’ invitation that the three of them could have their own Christmas celebration but Sirius had still been black out drunk from the clearly heavy night before. So she’d spent the majority of the day with Remus, hiding away from the kids. Drinking, dancing and even singing when Sirius had joined them later to get drunk again.
Her moment of happiness had faded to pure nothingness and she pulled off the headphones, tossing the cassette player onto her bed. If she focussed hard enough she could hear Sirius laughing still, picture Remus’ face as he tried to look unimpressed by one of Sirius’ filthy jokes- and failing miserably. Or feel Remus’ arm around her shoulders, his lips on her temple. The purely joyful atmosphere where just the three of them could be happy, Remus not worrying about people thoughts on him showing affection to her because Sirius didn’t care.
She found her feet moving then at their own accord, out of her room and creeping past her parents bedroom, down the stairs and out the door. She jogged down the garden path and past the wards protecting the house, apparating the second she was out.
She turned up on the top step of number 12. She really shouldn’t be there. She knew she should just go back to her parents. It wasn’t safe. But her hands reacted on their own and she opened the door. It was quiet inside. The quietest she’d ever heard it. Now Sirius laughing- or snoring. No kids charging around and pestering Kreacher. No mad-eye stomping along the hall.
Her feet led her into the library and she felt tears brewing in her eyes. She wanted to see Sirius blacked out on the sofa, Remus sat writing up a report at the desk, a fire crackling away. But neither were there. And the fireplace only held charred wood. The ache in her chest made her breathless, the deep burning pain of missing a dead man and one that might as well be.
She’d never felt so alone. Never had such a overwhelming feeling of loneliness that it made she’d weak in the knees. She could picture Remus at the desk, the way his brow furrowed when he concentrated, or how his cheeks flushed when she’d sneak up behind him and wrap her arms around his neck. The countless nights they’d fallen asleep on the sofa, danced, kissed, laughed.
But now it was just an empty room. In an empty house. No laughter. No dancing. No Remus.
She wanted to be back in that library when it was full of life. When Sirius was alive. And Remus was by her side. But it was never to be again.
Sirius was dead. And Remus was gone. And she wasn’t sure he’d ever come back.
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mrwinterr · 4 years
Text
Die Happy
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Pairing: Ghost!Bucky Barnes AU x Female Reader; tiny hint of Sam Wilson x Female Reader
Summary: You summon a really friendly ghost.
Warnings: Smut 18+ (consensual vibes all around, masturbation, vaginal fingering, oral [female receiving]) and language. Dabbling into the occult (use of a Ouija board).
Disclaimer: I’m a spooky bitch, I like how Ouija boards look like, but I would NEVER mess with them.
Title Inspiration: “Die Happy” by Dreamers  
A/N: I was on Reddit and I stumbled across an erotic audio that inspired this, so I definitely owe it to them. I’ve just been dying to write a ghost AU. I decided to hold back on the smut on this for now and maybe save it for later. This can be turned into a series, but I don’t want to get ahead of myself. Idk. You tell me! Enjoy!
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It’s here.
It’s finally here. The package that would help you find the answers you were so desperately looking for was finally here.
Package in hands, there’s a skip to your steps as you happily make your way back into the living room of your somewhat new home. You had moved in almost six months ago, but it still felt so surreal. You, a homeowner. All those years of saving up and house hunting - you finally did one of the most adult things you could do in your life.
The small house had been in the neighborhood for decades and owned by plenty before you, in fact, too plenty, but for a home in Brooklyn, New York it was surprisingly affordable. You’re still patting yourself on the back for how you managed to score this place at such a bargain price.
It was the ideal place, really; surrounded by friendly neighbors and with a great home association. It was at a reasonable distance from your workplace and the city. Furthermore, cosmetically, it was your dream home. You never took a second to ask why someone would quickly put this home back on the market...until recently.
The realtor had assured you that everything in the house was functioning properly before you signed away. There was little to no refurbishing on your end, which was part of the dealbreaker, but now you can’t help to wonder if the realtor was duping you. A young, pretty woman and a first-time homeowner? That was easy bait for them, right? There had to be a catch or information that they were withholding and well, you weren’t about to wait any longer to find out.
Lately, strange things had been happening and while at first you brushed them off as mere coincidences, they were becoming almost too outstanding to ignore.
First, it was the air conditioning unit acting all wonky. You kept the house at a reasonable and comfortable temperature, but you found yourself often sporting hoodies even during the warmer seasons. The technicians couldn’t find a single problem with it and besides whenever you scheduled a visit for inspection, it was magically working just fine. Never mind the breeze that blew past you here and there…
Next, much like the AC unit, the electricity started to have a mind of its own. Before you could flip the light switch or press the button on your remote, it was always one step ahead of you. It was almost like you were living in a smart house, but instead of acting on voice command, it read your mind.
Not to mention, things disappeared and reappeared every now and then. Small things like the morning paper would vanish from the coffee table and if you couldn’t locate where you last left your keys, you never searched too far.
Then the eeriest one of them all was the unexplained smell. There was a distinct yet alluring scent that would waft by when you felt that breeze pass over. You had deduced that it wasn’t any like of your fragrance collection nor was it from the only friend that visited you. It was a pleasant odor and almost calming to you.  
You didn’t want to believe it, but these weren’t just common occurrences - these were tall tale signs of a haunting. The spirit wasn’t vengeful, that much you gathered since it didn’t make attempts to harm you in any way. Sure you could just either ignore these oddities or relist the home, the latter which wasn’t in your favor because it wasn’t that simple. Instead, curiosity won the best of you and you opted to take matters into your own hands.
Literally.
“Whoa!” You hear your close friend Sam Wilson exclaim and watch as he scoots to the other end of the couch as far away as he could when you pull the Ouija board out from the box. “Shit, girl. I knew you liked Halloween, but I didn’t think you were that spooky!” He said, his eyes bugging out in disbelief that you’d ordered such a thing.
You roll your eyes at him and place the board on the coffee table. He immediately gets up from his spot and sets what he deems is a safe distance from it as if the object was cursed. You’re not deterred by the Ouija board at all. It had quite the opposite effect because you were all too fascinated with the supernatural.
“You really shouldn’t mess with that kind of stuff,” Sam warns as you handle the remaining piece, the planchette.
“I don’t know why you’re so scared,” you respond, blowing him off and kicking away the now empty box.
“And you’re not?!” He says incredulously, “trying to speak to the dead is not right!” Well, it certainly wasn’t normal, but so weren’t the things that were happening in your home lately.
“I need to find answers, Sam!” You bite back, the volume of your voice matching his. You didn’t miss the hint his exclamations gave off and it bothered you. “What do you expect me to do? Continue living like this? I’m not in control of my own home.”
Oh, he knew. He was your closest friend and you trusted him enough to share your theories about your home and the experiences in it.
“You really think this place is haunted.” It comes off as more of a statement because he can see you’ve clearly made up your mind on how you’re going to prove the theory.
“Why do you think I can’t have Sarge or any pets over?” You absolutely adored Sam’s dog Sarge, but he made it apparent that he didn’t like something about or in your house.
Before Sam could try and spit out an explanation you’ve already heard, you stopped him, “I’m not going crazy! And I certainly am not going to spend another fee on having a technician tell me there’s nothing wrong with the units again.”
“Look. Why don’t you just come spend the night at my place and we can think of another way to approach this?” He offered and you knew that offer all too well. It had always been on the table. When you decided to move to Brooklyn and were looking for your own place, Sam had offered you a room, but you were hellbent on making it on your own. You were proud and independent...and weren’t sure about taking the next step with him.
Sam was everything your past lovers weren’t and you while you both weren’t official, a couple of dates happened here and there, something was holding you back. You cherished his friendship so much and a part of you feared finding out what it could be that you weren’t willing to jeopardize what you two already had if anything more came out of it and then failed miserably. He made it clear how he felt about you, but you brushed it off casually each time. Sam knew you simply weren’t ready.
“Thanks, but I’ll be okay.” You reply, breaking away from seeing the look of concern on his face and back to the planchette your hands were fidgeting with. You knew he was a skeptic on these kinds of things and only worried for your safety.
The nights he had spent here nothing strange ever happened. It’s like these occurrences were only happening about you. Sam wasn’t sure if he believed in ghosts or not, and he deeply cared for you, but he wasn’t about to stick around and find out. He knew that you could be stubborn, but there was only so much he could do to change your mind from where he stood and he just hoped he hadn’t lost you yet.
The small crack of thunder in the sky indicated a storm was coming and you took that as a sign to convince Sam to leave for the day. You didn’t want to fight with him about this. The few times you did talk about a possible haunting were just humorous conversations to Sam, but you were always being serious. It was evident that you two were not on the same page.
“You should probably start heading home before the rain comes,” you advise, standing up to walk over to the front door, hoping it’d sway him, but he knew what you were doing. Sam wasn’t mad. He was always very patient with you.
He only nods in false agreement before following your lead. “I’m coming back first thing in the morning to check if you’re still alive though,” he jokes, before pulling you in for a hug and giving you a kiss to the side of your head. His words elicit a light chuckle from you, but is mostly muffled against his biceps, then you’re playfully shoving him out the door.
As soon as his car disappears from the end of the street, you jolt and head snaps quickly at a sudden crash from the kitchen. You make your way in that direction to find the mug gifted to you on your last birthday from Sam shattered in pieces all over the kitchen floor.
The last roar of thunder must’ve been a strong one or the elevation of the shelf had been slightly off or maybe the house didn’t like Sam…
You shook your head at that last silly thought from your mind and sighed preparing to clean up the mess. Once that was done, the gloomy weather quickly casted a blanket over the sky and with a remix of fast raindrops against the windows and pavement and the lag in thunder, you didn’t waste time on the mission.
What better time than now? It set the mood. Were you scared? You weren’t sure. You were already convinced you were living with a spirit. You didn’t ponder long enough to think about the aftermath. Was this all just a bunch of hocus pocus or pseudoscience? Would you get possessed by a demon or would he be like Casper?
The use of a Ouija board, especially by someone inexperienced as yourself, was highly not recommended and very much frowned upon during your upbringing. If only your parents could see you now...
The spirit in your home couldn’t be that bad though, right? If they wanted to possess you, they would’ve done so by now; unless they were just waiting for an invitation. Well, there was only one way to find out.
You dimmed the lights and lit a few candles around you. Was this insulting? You did some fair share of research, but most of what you knew about Ouija boards were credited to horror movies.
You take a deep breath and begin to summon your supposed roommate.
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Bucky felt bad as he watched you clean up the mess he made in your kitchen. He knew you liked that mug, but he didn’t and he certainly didn’t like how Sam made you feel. Sam made you feel all sorts of things and Bucky knew that, which explained why Sam never experienced anything unusual in the house because Bucky didn’t like seeing you with him.  
He was aware of how silly it was. A ghost jealous of two living humans. He had his turn, but it was tragically cut short. He was so young. He left everything behind to fight a World War. There was a high chance he wouldn’t come back and he was sadly part of that statistic.
But why did his afterlife have to consist of seeing the most angelic living human being just waiting to fall in love with the perfect living man? He didn’t get a chance to live out that part of his life, so was he bitter? Yes. And especially outraged at any distress that was brought upon the current tenant of his old home.
Bucky wasn’t sure why he was able to roam around his old stomping ground over the last couple of decades. He tried his best to communicate with the previous owners but he always ended up scaring them off. When you moved in, if he wasn’t already dead, and you could’ve seen him, he just knew he would’ve been as pale as a well...ghost. He made sure to not send you running for the hills.
He tried to help you with everyday things, trying his best to be subtle. He didn’t even spy on you during private moments like in the shower or on those lonely, needy nights. He proved himself to be a ghostly gentleman.
He even tried to not eavesdrop on your conversations and almost always disappeared when guests were present, but he heard you raise your voice earlier at Sam. He wasn’t sure what you two were arguing about and sure it was petty on his part, but before he could summon enough energy to knock over the mug, Sam was already gone.
Bucky followed you back into the living room and watched as you lit the candles scattered around. He lightly smiled believing you were attempting to relax. If only seeing you in peace was enough to put him to rest - permanently - but when he sees you take a seat back on your couch his expression fell and he swore his heart would stop again if it could.
“Oh no,” he says as he watches you stare at the Ouija board on the table before you. Bucky starts pacing in front of you, his hands over his head. Anyone that set foot and stayed long enough knew this place was haunted, and he knew you weren’t stupid and besides he wasn’t as subtle as he’d like to have been lately.
“Is anyone here?” He hears you ask the first question. He looks over your direction and sees your eyes are closed with both hands on the planchette.
“Oh my God,” he barely whispers and realizes, “she’s really trying to talk to me.” He couldn’t believe you’d be so brave to risk such a thing and importantly willingly reaching out to him.
“Yes! I am! I’m here!” She can’t hear you, idiot. “Fuck, of course she can’t hear me.” Bucky argues with himself on what to do before he remembers how Ouija boards work.
He almost can’t believe it when he does it, but he’s able to delicately move your hands and slide the planchette over to the word ‘YES’.
Your eyes pop open and you gasp when you see that you got an answer. You're frozen and look up in front of you half expecting the spirit to show itself to you, but you don’t see anything.
At least that’s what you think. Unbeknownst to you, you’re staring right at Bucky or rather through him. His expression mirrors yours - complete and utter shock. He was never able to easily move or touch anything solid in years. The incident with the mug earlier, that kind of stuff usually required a lot of concentration and energy on his part. He’s also scared that he’s frightened you with that move, but at the same time excited that he’s successfully communicating with you.
You’re unsure if you should continue. You were half expecting this to be a bust, but it moved. It actually moved! While you were excited that this worked, the tiny voice in the back of your head had you considering that maybe you shouldn’t go any further, but who ever really listened to them? You blink a few times and refocus your attention on the task.
“What are you?” You ask.
“What am I?” Bucky repeats the question, “I’m dead.” Wait. He starts to spell the letters ‘D-E-A-D’ with your hands on the planchette. He compares the sight of the corners of your mouth lifting, amused at that response, of course he was dead, as to what angels must’ve felt like when they earned their wings. If anyone believed in that sort of stuff...either way he felt very blessed.
“You liked that one, didn’t you?” Bucky said more to himself with a big smile on his face. He loved this! It was like he was having a conversation with you. It was something he only ever dreamed of for the last six or so months.
A particular flash of lightning followed by a thunderous sound startles you and you breakaway from the Ouija board. You weren’t going to lie. You were still absolutely spooked out and decided that maybe that was enough contact with the dead for the day.
When your heartbeat finally returned to its normal pace, you got up and turned on the lights, made sure you blew all the candles out and turned in for the night. Before you left, Bucky watched you look around the room and bid goodnight to seemingly nothing, but he knew it was meant for someone - it was meant for him.
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The days that followed, you were growing curiouser and curiouser that in your spare time, you started digging into how much can come out of the Ouija board, but first you needed to figure out who you were dealing with.
With as much access as you were granted, you found out about a man, who was around the same age as you, that had died during World War II and the hauntings that would start to occur after the first tenant took residence upon this home.
The house belonged to a man named James Buchanan Barnes, but signed it under the name Bucky. How cute. You thought to yourself over the nickname, then you saw an accompanying photo of who you assumed was living with you. It was in black and white and the quality wasn’t that up to par, but from what you could make out you could determine enough. Cute name for a cute guy.
You read the experiences of others that lived here before you and they all seemed harmless. They were just spooked and you didn’t blame them. They had every right to be scared, but you didn’t scare that easily.
You’re so engrossed with your findings, you barely paid any attention to Sam, even when he’d come in to check on you. He had the spare key in case of emergencies, and you ignoring most of his unreturned phone calls and missed texts, uncharacteristically you, to him was deemed as an emergency.
Sam was only less than thrilled to see your enthusiasm on all this. Normal people didn’t go around poking at the dead. He pointed out you were lucky you didn’t get possessed, not paying any mind or adhering to you claiming he was probably a friendly ghost.
“This isn’t an episode of Casper!” Sam says fed up again. His face falters as he watches your shoulders visibly slump. He hated killing the vibe, especially when you were excited, but you were excited about something all too unreal and that shouldn’t be messed with at all in the first place.
“What if I can help him?” You try reasoning with him, “What if I can help him pass on? Then I can live in peace...and so would he.”
“You’re already lucky that you’re unharmed,” Sam reminds you, “I’m just worried about you.”
“I know you are, but I’ll be fine,” you assure him, hoping you could keep that promise. After all, you couldn’t even confirm you were really communicating with Bucky.
You were relieved that the conversation with Sam didn’t take a turn for the worse like it easily could have. You understood where he was coming from and you were lucky to have someone like him care so much about your wellbeing. The realization never fails to punch you in the gut for not allowing yourself to give in.
So why were you more scared to commit than of willingly reaching out to a ghost?
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Take two.
You sat perched up and ready to communicate once more. Bucky, on the other hand, is more than ready and the cool familiar breeze that passes you by lets you know that he’s here.
“Who are you?” There weren’t exactly formalities with contacting the dead and your heartbeat starts to pick up as you’re slowly spelling out ‘B-U-C-K-Y’.
“Bucky,” you whisper. Boy, did Bucky like the sound of his name coming from your lips.
“How did you...die?” you had to swallow in between the last word in that question, hoping it wouldn’t trigger a negative response. Even in the afterlife, death couldn’t be an easy topic.
The letters ‘W-A-R’ and the number ‘2’ gives you your answer. It was him! Internally, you’re overjoyed that you’ve figured out your ghostly John Doe, but you try to remain at ease.
“Did you knock down my mug?”
Bucky rolls his eyes at that, but swiftly moves your hands over to ‘YES’.
“Okay. I mean that wasn’t very nice,” you couldn’t just bite your tongue as the sass flowed right out of you.
‘S-O-R-R-Y’.
The apology takes you by surprise, and suddenly you weren’t mad about the mug anymore.
“It’s alright. It was just a mug,” you try to assure him. You’d just have to explain to Sam another time that the ghost broke it. No biggie. Yeah, right. What with the tiny arguments, he’d most likely believe you destroyed it out of anger and frustration at him.
Your arms were getting tired from the position they were in. Several minutes had passed since you last said anything to Bucky and you weren’t sure of what to ask next.
Where does this end? Do you ask him to leave? This is his home. No, it’s not anymore. It’s your home now. But he doesn’t belong here anymore. How do you help him pass on? Did you have that ability? Do you hire a medium? Enlist the help of a priest? Call a ghostbuster? Your mind grew tired all too quickly, you slumped back in your seat, breaking away from the Ouija board.
Bucky watched as you rubbed the muscles of your sore arms. He felt helpless. He wishes he could ease or take away your pain. Instead, all he could do was watch and make sure you were okay until you were ready to start talking again.
With your hands back on the items, you ask, “are you still here?” Bucky responds with ‘YES’. You take a deep breath and close your eyes, mentally preparing yourself, before proceeding with the next question.
“Can you show yourself to me?” There the ultimate question and Bucky can’t help but ask why? Why were you interested in seeing him? He was a lost cause.
“No?” you ask more to yourself, still staring at the word through the eye of the planchette, and frown at his response.
Bucky wanted nothing more than to show himself to you, but he didn’t know how. For decades he was nothing but a gust of air. No matter how hard he tried to show himself to previous owners, he was never successful.
You pull your hands back away and place them in your lap, unsure of where to go from here. Well, you couldn’t force a ghost to do something they didn’t want to do, but you hoped that maybe perhaps seeing him would make it less taxing while communicating.
There’s a sudden iciness that covers the side of your cheek, sending a chill down your spine, causing you to flinch and your hand rising quickly to warm the spot.
Bucky almost disappears at the sudden reaction. He can’t believe it. You felt that. You could feel him. It was different than pushing your hands in different directions because this time, neither of you needed the help of the Ouija board.
You’re not sure where he is as your eyes scan the room, you wanted to feel that again. Sure, the cold was a bit alarming, and as sharp as his icy touch was, so was the surge that flowed through you. It was unexplainable, but soothing.
It sucked for Bucky because he couldn’t keep your eyes trained on just him.
“Are you sure you can’t show yourself?” You ask again, this time convinced you didn’t need the Ouija board anymore.
However, Bucky needed the board to reply. You sigh in defeat as you watch the planchette slide across to the word ‘YES’. You couldn’t allow yourself to get mad. You just couldn’t understand how it was possible for him to do all these other things, but not be able to show himself. Whatever it was, you’d just have to accept that you’d never understand ghost logic.
The sound of the planchette scraping against the board, offers you the word, ‘F-E-E-L’.
Feel? You definitely felt a presence, but now it was confirmed. It was him. He was trying to communicate through touch.
“Yes, I felt you,” you let Bucky know quite eagerly. The planchette remains unmoved after that and instead of what would appear to be awkward silence, the seconds that were passing by could be more appropriately compared to that of a ticking time bomb.
“Touch me,” you request.
Bucky’s stunned. If he were alive and well right now, he’d no doubt be on his knees for you with a command like that. He floats over to you and is only more than eager to touch you again, but he’s not sure of where. Feeling a soft anticipation of a ghostly tingle, he hesitantly places both hands on the underside of your jaw, in a cradle-like fashion, hoping it'll stop your wandering eyes.  
You stand still, frozen in place, now seeing the breath of air that escapes your mouth in a cloud of smoke. He’s definitely here and in front of you.
“More,” you say barely above a whisper.
Fuck. Bucky inwardly swears at himself as you unintentionally egg him on. Testing his limits, what more could he already lose? He was already dead.
He goes all in. He leans in and presses his cold, dead lips to yours in the most gentle and light kiss ever. When he pulls away, he sees that your eyes have closed and he can’t help immediately start to wonder if you actually felt that or not. He sure as hell felt it. He can’t be certain as he tries to gauge at the expression on your face. Shit, why did he do that?
“Do it again,” and this time with a more affirmative tone, Bucky doesn’t question anything anymore and obeys. His lips dig deeper against yours, you let out a small moan and purse your lips to respond. You don’t think about how silly it must look to be making out with practically nothing, not knowing what to do with your hands because there was nothing to hold onto, but despite that it all felt too real. He was real.  
Bucky’s mind is reeling at the sound of pleasure that spews from your mouth, he can’t comprehend how this is even possible. He’d been dying to know what kissing you felt like - what you felt like at all.
When your lips start to get numb and turn blue, you reluctantly pull away. You open your eyes to a dark room and wish you could at least hear him, the sounds of ecstasy played a pivotal role in intimacy.  
Your body temperature returns to normal, blood rushing, mind a haze. You stand up and head towards your bedroom without another word. Would he take the cue to follow you? You can’t be sure. You can’t see or hear him, but your actions say otherwise and make you both feel as if he wasn’t dead at all. It was now a game of cat and mouse.
Bucky or not, you were unabashedly turned on. In moments like these, it was hard to be in control of your own body and the only thing you could do was give in to the desires. In this instance, your body couldn’t make up its mind because as if you weren’t just freezing your ass off while kissing Bucky, you were suddenly hot all over.
Flustered, you pulled down your shorts, tossed them carelessly across the room, perhaps a little too harshly. If he wasn’t going to help you out, then you would do the job yourself. A mad smile on your face, surprised you weren’t the least bit embarrassed if he was going to watch you or not. It only added to the thrill and the excitement.
Trying to regulate your breathing, you lie down on the center of your bed and run your hands over your face down to where you needed them the most. Your fingers experimentally graze along the wet spot of your panties, groaning in acknowledgment of the sudden arousal. There’s no sense in conjuring up a justifiable explanation as to how something so seemingly innocent as the kiss you shared with Bucky got you so crazed. Not wasting any time, you lift your hips up and bend your legs to slip the flimsy garment off.
No longer a thin barrier between, your entire body shivers slightly, a sharp gasp escaping your lips, when your fingers make first contact with your clit and you begin to rub slow slow circles over it. Your stomach sinks in with each relieving exhale, your breathing growing heavy. Your fingers run off course and dip into your folds, past the floodgates, your fingers resurface coated in your own wetness and you use it to an advantage in invigorating your clit.
Eyes closed, you start to think about Bucky. You want to feel guilty or believe this was all wrong. Instead of getting off to someone like Sam or someone real for that matter, you lied there baring yourself to a ghost. You try to picture that baby face of his, and all that you could based on the lone image you found of him on the Internet.
The curve of his full lips that you were fortunate enough to feel on yours moments ago. You already knew they were soft, but what about his other features? Did his eyes sparkle or were they like black holes? What color were they? They had to be of a set that could hypnotize someone. Maybe it was okay that you couldn’t see him because if you had you just knew that you’d be at his mercy.
And that was just on the surface of it all. How was he like in other areas? How would his tongue feel against yours, on your skin, in you...The simulation causes your thighs to clamp up, knees involuntarily knocking into each other; your other hand clutching onto the bed sheets. He made it that easy, but you needed one more good push to dive in the deep end.
A thin layer of sweat coats your skin from the increase in body heat, then an abrupt familiar cold sensation runs through you, his alluring scent filling your nostrils, your legs forcefully separate; all tells you that Bucky was here. You pick up your head, always a small hint of disappointment flashes through your features at the fact you still and won’t be likely to ever see him.
It shoots a wild pang through Bucky’s chest because he doesn’t miss it; never knowing he could read someone so openly. He missed out on a good chunk of his life. He missed out on someone like you. Life was so cruel.
Your thoughts aren’t as far away from his as you start to wonder, why was it all so easy - seamlessly flawless - with him? Running with only first-party information and two silent conversations, you were already willing to go headfirst for halos for Bucky. Was it pathetic? You didn’t care anymore, whatever would ultimately bring you to him, you just knew in the end you’d die happy.
Your head falls back in defeat and you try to keep your emotions at bay, until you feel the hem of your shirt being lifted, exposing your midriff. Your lips cave in and you wince at each uncalculated cold peck Bucky’s lips leave on you. Whereas you felt a minor sting at how cold his touches were, for the first time, Bucky felt like he was on fire at how hot to the touch you were in this moment. This moment with him.
His lips create a path down to your core, and the contrast in temperature feels good. Not knowing what to do with your hands again, your arms lie sprawled on the bed on either side of your body, then you mentally curse at another sad truth that you had no one to hold on to.
A cool breeze brushes past your folds and your heartbeat spikes up again. Bucky never imagined he’d ever be able to make someone feel this way. It was pointless for him, but he dreamt about it countless times. And then he wickedly thinks how he was dumb to not spy on you during those nightly sessions. He was missing out. You were absolutely divine in his eyes.
“Bucky,” his name slips past your lips when his make contact with your swollen clit. It started off so innocently, but when he pulled his lips back and ran his tongue over the wet spot you left on them, giving him a taste of what you had to offer, he wanted more.
The cold, with each bit of contact from Bucky, was no longer a thing as your body quickly acclimated to it. Bucky uses his fingers to spread your pussy lips apart and allows himself to get a better taste. Your head lulls back, sinking in deeper into your pillows.
There’s only so much you could do to communicate with Bucky, you want to feel his hands all over, but instead you pick up on the slack as you grab and squeeze handfuls of your breasts, massaging them and adding onto the sensation. Your groping proves to be successful when you draw out more noises.
Bucky’s eyes never tear away from watching your reaction, the way your body moves from pleasure - pleasure he’s bestowing on you. His mouth doesn't require guidance as his tongue pulls all the right moves, weaving its way through and between your folds. He drags out a long moan from you when he dips his tongue in and then captures your folds between his lips, tugging as he sucked on them.
“I-I need,” you try to voice out your desires, but you’re reveling in so much, especially in being able to feel Bucky’s fingers digging into the sides of your hips; you bite down on one of your fingers, trying not to let out a crazed scream.
Bucky doesn’t want you to hold back though, so he introduces his fingers into the mix as they take turns in you. You wished you could hear him and all the sounds of his onslaught. To hear those pretty boy moans, the filthy pops and slurping noises. Was he a dirty talker? God. Imagine the things he would say.
He gets the message loud and clear. You want to come, and so he quickens his actions until your body goes into overdrive. When you reach your peak, your eyes snap open, pupils blown, and your back arches up in perfect bridge-like fashion. It almost looks like you’re being possessed before you come back down releasing choppy gasps of breaths.
Exhausted, you struggle to stay conscious wanting to communicate with Bucky one last time, but it felt like the orgasm almost sucked the life out of you. The puffs of cool air against your pussy are an indication that Bucky is still present and he wasn’t going to go anywhere just yet. He hasn’t moved from his position and is short of breath, in awe of seeing you coming undone for him and more so the fact that this happened. This wasn’t just another one of his dreams.
For as long as he’d been an apparition, he’d hoped to be able to finally pass on and if this was his actual last day on Earth, then he’d gladly accept it because one night with you was enough. 
Bucky would die happy.
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A/N: Yeah, the ending wasn’t strong, but I wanted to leave it open for interpretation. Let me know what you think! A simple like and reblog is enough to help a sis out! Thank you for reading! 
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A/N: Back to Chloe’s POV
Chloe got to Stacie and Aubrey’s to pick up her daughter. “Hi, baby girl.”
“Hi, Mama. How was your date with Miss Beca?”
“It was really good,” said Chloe. “Did you have fun with Bella?”
Rachel nodded vigorously. Aubrey took Rachel to Bella’s room to help her pack.
“So, how was it?” Stacie asked.
Chloe chewed on her bottom lip.
“Seriously? You chickened out, didn’t you?”
Chloe lowered her voice. “We got to talking, and I told her the whole story.”
“About…?”
“About Rachel, of course.”
“Okay, why?”
Chloe sighed. “I had to tell her because...because…”
“Chloe, spit it out.”
Chloe lowered her voice to just above a whisper. “Because I’m a virgin, okay?”
“What?!” Stacie replied loudly.
“Be quiet.”
“I had no idea. Wait, then who’s David?”
“That’s my vibrator. Named after David Guetta.” Chloe knew she had to be blushing hard.
Stacie chuckled. “That’s hilarious. And clever.”
“Thanks. Please don’t tell Amy. I’ll never hear the end of it.”
Stacie held up three fingers. “Scout’s honor.”
“Were you a Girl Scout?” Chloe asked.
“Only for first grade. I sold cookies all over the neighborhood, and then I had to give everyone their money back because my dad ate them before I could deliver them. I was too embarrassed to come back to Girl Scouts after that.”
“Wow.”
“Yeah. But, anyway, I promise I won’t say anything.”
“Thanks.”
Aubrey and Rachel walked into the room. “I’m all packed up, Mama.”
“Great job, sweetheart,” Chloe said to Rachel. She turned to Aubrey and Stacie. “Thanks for taking her.”
“Anytime,” said Aubrey.
Once they got home and unpacked, Chloe sat Rachel down to talk over lunch.
“Rachel, I want to tell you something important.”
“What?”
“Miss Beca and I had a long talk last night, and I told her about your adoption. We were having a grownup conversation, and the topic came up. I hope that’s okay with you.”
Rachel furrowed her brow for a minute or two. “Yeah, that’s okay. I like Miss Beca a lot, Mama.”
“Me too.”
“You should marry her.” Chloe nearly choked on her drink.
“Mama, are you okay?”
“Yes, sweetie. You caught me off guard.”
“Off guard?”
“It means you surprised me.”
“Oh. Is it still too early to marry her, Mama?”
“Yes.”
Rachel sighed. “I hope you can marry her soon.”
Chloe reached across the table and tousled her daughter’s hair. “You’re too cute. Do you know that?”
Rachel giggled.
The next day at work, Chloe found herself alone with Stacie.
“I still can’t believe it,” said Stacie.
“Watch your volume,” said Chloe.
“Right.” Stacie lowered her voice. “I can’t believe you’ve never-”
“Enough.” Chloe didn’t want to hear Stacie’s latest euphemism.
“Sorry. But, Beca’s okay with it?”
“Yeah, she seems to be. She actually was the one who put the brakes on things Saturday night. I have to admit that, after that conversation, it wasn’t exactly the next thing I wanted to do.”
“No, I wouldn’t think so. Wait, so how far have you gotten?”
“I don’t need to have this conversation with you,” said Chloe.
“I’ve never known anyone to turn down my sex advice.”
Chloe rolled her eyes.
“Come on. It’s been a few days since Aubrey and I have done it.”
Chloe knew Stacie wasn’t going to let up. “Not very far, honestly. Beca and I have made out, but that’s it. A guy I dated back in college got his hand up my shirt, but that’s as far as it’s gotten.”
“Wow.”
“You know I didn’t date much. I was too busy in high school between the soccer team and my part-time job. And then there was my boyfriend making out with my ex-girlfriend. Kind of turned me off to dating. I wasn’t ready then, even if that hadn’t happened. I was taking care of my sick grandmother in college, and then Rachel happened.”
“I know. I guess I just figured someone would have hit that,” said Stacie, gesturing to Chloe’s body.
Fat Amy came in, and Chloe was relieved to have a good reason to stop this conversation. Stacie was a great friend, but she had zero filter when it came to any topic remotely related to sex.
Beca, Chloe, and Rachel visited Beca’s dad again that Saturday. Rachel had another Pete the Cat book she was eager to read with him, and Chloe knew Beca was doing her best to see her father as much as she could while he was around.
“Thank you for the restaurant gift card,” Chloe said. “We had an amazing dinner.”
“We’re glad to help,” said Sheila. “You two are good for each other.”
Beca put an arm around Chloe. “Yes, we are.”
“Miss Sheila?” Rachel asked.
“Yes?”
“What is your favorite animal? I didn’t draw you a picture yet.”
“It’s a giraffe,” she said.
“Okay!” Rachel grabbed her sketchbook, pencils, and crayons and got to work.
“She really likes to draw,” said Beca’s dad.
“She could draw all day and night,” said Chloe.
“I’m not sure what you usually do on Christmas,” Sheila began. “We’d love to have you over for a visit.”
“That would be fun. Usually, it’s just Rachel and me. Stacie and Aubrey are almost always out of town. Their families aren’t local.”
Christmas 2021
Rachel woke Chloe up at 7 am on the dot, which was the earliest Chloe told Rachel she could wake her.
“Mama, Mama! Santa was here!”
“That’s great, baby girl. I’ll be up in a minute.”
Chloe smiled as she saw her daughter’s excitement. Thanks to some help from Beca, she actually had a few brand new items to give her as gifts.
She took a selfie of herself and her daughter in their matching Christmas pajamas before letting Rachel open her gifts.
Rachel screamed when she opened a box that had a purple unicorn dress and matching leggings. She was also excited to get a new My Little Pony toy and a few Barbie dolls.
Chloe smiled when she opened two ornaments Rachel had made for her - one in school and the other at daycare. She had also bought her something small at her school’s holiday shop. It was a refrigerator magnet that said “I love my mom.”
Chloe made pancakes for breakfast, and she relaxed while Rachel played with her new things.
Chloe put on a pretty sweater and a pair of dress pants, and she dressed Rachel in a green Santa style dress with white tights and black patent leather Mary Janes. She brought homemade mac and cheese to Beca’s dad’s house, again knowing it was something Rachel would eat.
They arrived at Beca’s dad’s house, and Rachel ran up to hug Beca before Chloe got a chance.
“Merry Christmas,” Beca said before pulling Chloe in for a kiss.
“Merry Christmas.”
Before Sheila could finish asking whether they’d prefer to eat first or open presents, Rachel was racing to the Christmas tree.
“Mama, there are presents here with my name on them!” Rachel exclaimed.
“That’s wonderful, sweetheart,” said Chloe.
Rachel reached for one but pulled her hand back. “I almost forgot. May I open this?”
Chloe was relieved that Rachel had remembered her manners.
“Go ahead,” said Sheila. “This one is from Mr. Francis and me.”
Rachel squealed when she opened the present. “Mama, look! It’s a Pete the Cat book and a stuffed Pete!”
“What do you say?” Chloe asked.
“Thank you,” said Rachel.
“You’re welcome,” said Sheila.
“I love it when you read those books to me,” said Francis.
Rachel immediately asked to read the book. Sheila lifted Rachel to sit next to Francis, and they read the book together.
“That was great reading,” he said. “You’ve been working really hard at school, haven’t you?”
Rachel nodded.
“Come over here and open the rest,” said Chloe.
“Mama, this one says it’s for both of us from Miss Beca,” said Rachel.
Chloe motioned for Rachel to sit in her lap so they could open it together.
“Oh my god!” Chloe exclaimed.
“Miss Beca, thank you!” Rachel exclaimed. She put the present down and ran up to hug Beca.
“Beca, this is too much. I don’t know what to say.”
“It’s for both of you. I had some help, though.”
Chloe couldn’t believe Beca had bought them a Nintendo Switch, an extra set of controllers, the latest Just Dance, as well as Mario Party and Mario Kart.
“I’m so excited to play everything,” said Rachel.
“I’m glad,” said Beca.
Chloe loved her diamond earrings, putting them into her ears immediately, and Rachel sat still in shock when she saw Beca had paid for art lessons for her and purchased supplies.
“You are way too generous,” said Chloe.
“I meant what I said earlier. Let me spoil you guys.”
Chloe nodded, her eyes tearing up.
Chloe gave Beca a picture they’d taken on a recent date that she’d had framed. It paled in comparison to what Beca had just given them, but Beca insisted she was hanging it up as soon as she got home that night. She’d also purchased a few flannels for her, and she’d managed to get her a pair of Converse sneakers in a color she was reasonably certain Beca didn’t own.  She gave Sheila a photo album and Francis a new pair of bedroom slippers.
They sat down to eat. Sheila had made a ham, green beans, and glazed carrots. Rachel ate mac and cheese and a roll, and Francis barely touched any of his food. They left shortly after eating, as Beca’s dad was obviously fading fast.
Beca joined them at Chloe’s house. Neither woman could figure out the instructions for hooking up the Switch.
“I know who can help,” said Beca. She made a quick phone call, and the doorbell rang fifteen minutes later.
“Help has arrived,” said the man, who Chloe recognized as the guy who had been working the DJ booth with Beca at the zoo.
“This is Jesse,” Beca said. “Jesse, this is Chloe and her daughter Rachel.”
“Hi,” he said. He grabbed the box with the Switch and had the whole thing hooked up and talking to the wi-fi in minutes.
“Thanks for coming over on Christmas,” Chloe said.
“It’s nothing,” said Jesse. “I’m Jewish, and I don’t celebrate Christmas. You’re not taking me away from anything. Hanukkah was over almost three weeks ago, and it’s nowhere near the big deal Christmas is. Besides, my parents live in New York. I don’t have any family down here.”
“Oh, good.”
“What do you want to play first?” he asked Rachel.
“Mario Kart!” Rachel exclaimed.
Jesse walked everyone through the controls. Nobody was surprised when Rachel chose Waluigi, the most purple of the characters.
Beca chose Bowser, Chloe chose Daisy, and Jesse chose Mario. They spent a good hour racing before Rachel asked to play something else.
She chose Just Dance and Jesse showed them that they had a free trial of a service that let them play songs from previous versions of the game. He scrolled down the list, and Rachel pointed to one of the songs and started laughing.
“Mama, we need to play that one!”
“Why is that?”
“Because you and Beca are girlfriends!”
Beca shrugged. “Fine with me.”
They got set up and Jesse showed them how to choose which “dance coach” they wanted. Rachel said, “I want to be that one. She’s like Miss Beca!”
“You don’t want to be the girl with red hair and glasses?”
“Nope,” said Rachel.
“Okay, kiddo, let’s do this! I bet we can beat your Mama and Jesse!” Beca exclaimed.
“Why can’t I be the girl with the guitar?” Jesse asked.
“Do I even need to begin to explain?” Beca asked, rolling her eyes.
Jesse put up his hands in mock surrender. “I know better than to argue with a bunch of strong women.”
They danced to Avril Lavigne’s “Girlfriend.”
Rachel laughed harder and harder each time she got to do the “air guitar” moves.
They played games for a little while before Jesse headed back. He’d taken the time to patiently show everyone how to work the Switch, and he’d made sure to remind Rachel that she needed to be really careful with it.
Chloe managed to get Rachel to bed, something made a little easier when Beca happily agreed to read Rachel her bedtime story. She felt her heart grow three sizes when she saw her daughter curled up in her girlfriend’s lap, listening to the story.
Once Rachel was down, Beca said, “I forgot how long The Grinch was.”
“Rachel loved your ‘grinch voice’ though.”
“Don’t tell Jesse about that.”
“I promise,” Chloe said, laughing.
“Can we open that bottle of wine my dad and Sheila got us?” asked Beca.
“Sounds great.” Chloe grabbed a corkscrew and some wine glasses from her kitchen.
They sat at the kitchen table and enjoyed their wine with a few sugar cookies Chloe and Rachel had made the day before.
“I really can’t believe everything you bought us,” said Chloe. “You’re too much.”
Beca reached across the table and took her hand. “I love you, and I love your daughter. You two deserve to be treated. Let me treat you.”
“Thanks. Is Jesse the one with the Disney Plus subscription?”
“He sure is.”
“Awes.”
Beca sighed. “I was just thinking about how this is my dad’s last Christmas.”
“I remember that with my Meemaw. She hadn’t gone to hospice yet, but I think we both knew when her days were numbered.”
“It sucks.”
“He put a huge smile on Rachel’s face, though. If she wasn’t such a light sleeper, I’d send your dad a picture of her sleeping with the stuffed Pete.”
“He really has enjoyed her visits, you know.”
“I’m glad they have each other,” said Chloe.
“Me too.”
They chatted for a bit, and then they sat in the living room to cuddle on the couch. This quickly escalated into a makeout session.
“Bedroom?” Beca asked.
Chloe nodded, thinking that Christmas just might be a good day for her first time.
They lay on Chloe’s bed, resuming their kissing. Beca reached under the hem of Chloe’s sweater, slipping her hand underneath it after Chloe gave her a nod. Beca massaged her breast over her bra, causing a quiet moan to slip from Chloe’s lips.
However, Chloe stopped things once Beca moved to take off the sweater.
“I...I can’t. I’m sorry,” said Chloe. “I thought I was ready, but…”
“It’s okay,” said Beca. “I don’t want to push you.”
“Thanks. I just...what if Rachel hears us? That kid wakes up if a pin drops two rooms over.”
Beca gave her a chaste kiss. “It’s really okay. I really want your first time to be as special and amazing as you are. I want you to be relaxed so you can enjoy yourself. I don’t want us to do anything unless we’re both comfortable doing it.”
“I probably ruined your Christmas. You were so generous with us, and-”
“Chloe, did you think you owed me?”
Chloe shrugged.
“I don’t want you to ever think you owe me sex for anything. If we’re having sex, I want it to be because we love each other and want to share that.”
Chloe teared up and nodded. “Thank you for understanding.”
“I love you, and I’m not going anywhere. Except maybe back to the living room to cuddle with you.”
“Excellent idea.”
27 notes · View notes
marrys-dream-world · 3 years
Text
lovers alone wear sunlight (chapter eight)
Chapter One  Chapter Two  Chapter Three  Chapter Four  Chapter Five  Chapter Six  Chapter Seven
Read on AO3
Notes: Day 20: Escape. @ladrienjune​
Ladybug absolutely detested the cold season. 
Tikki had warned her, at the beginning of the end of her normal life™ , that she would retain some of the characteristics of the ladybug insect because of her miraculous. It was just September, so she brushed it off easily, mind filled with the electrifying sensation of flying and the rush of falling for the sunshine that occupied the seat in front of her in class. Of course, now during the old drags of Paris’ rainy season, it never left her mind, especially as she was soaked to the bone.
It had just been a drizzle when she left her house, even though Tikki had strongly advised her against it. But Adrien had been upset during the day, eyes cloudy as he looked out of the wind for most of the period. Ms. Bustier, aware of the good student Adrien is, didn’t call him out in favor of asking Marinette to please look at the board and not her classmate. She had turned tomato red and hid behind her book, but didn’t miss the concerned look her teacher sent Adrien and the way she held him back for a few minutes after class, talking in hushed tones in the empty classroom. 
At least I won’t die if I fall. Ladybug thought as she threw her yo-yo at the slippery slopes of the buildings. The rain was starting to get even heavier, but she soldiered on as the light of Adrien’s window grew closer and closer. 
When she finally reached it, she knocked desperately, precariously perched on the most solid thing she could find. She couldn’t see Adrien through the foggy and drenched glass, so she almost fell forward when he suddenly opened the window. Fortunately, strong arms caught before she could hit the ground.
“Falling for me, my hero?” Adrien said softly, the ghost of a smile pulling on his lips. Just by seeing him, it felt like the rain outside got lighter and the sky wasn’t as grey anymore.
“Can't deny it, handsome.” She said, cuddling against his chest before her eyes snapped wide open. “I got you all wet!”
“It’s just water.” He shrugged it off, squeezing her shoulder. He seemed to do that a lot, whether she was Ladybug or just Marinette. “I’ll get you a towel.”
“Thanks.” Ladybug said, using his distraction to take in the sight of him.
She hadn't imagined his bad disposition at all. Adrien looked frail, shoulders slumped and skin pale. He walked sluggishly to his closet, the small smile he wore whenever she was around leaving his face. 
“Is everything okay, Adrien?” Ladybug asked, unwilling to beat around the bush. They cried in each other’s arms too much (a worrying amount, to be honest) for her to hesitate asking. 
He turned to her and opened his mouth and then closed it again, frowning and handing her the bigger towel he got. He motioned for her to turn around and after she did, he started to dry her hair gently with a smaller towel he had in hands. 
“Today is my mother’s birthday.” He said simply and it knocked her breath away. “My father and I haven’t really been talking these days, you know why. But I thought that since it’s today, we could spend some time together. It’s not like he would let aunt Amelie and Félix come back here after what happened last time.”
Ladybug shuddered as he thought of Adrien’s creepy cousin. She couldn’t believe that she agreed with Gabriel Agreste on something.
“So I asked him if we could spend the day together, watch one of mom’s movies and maybe get her favorite orange cake just to celebrate her, but he…” Adrien laughed wetly. “Let’s just say I wish he just told me a simple no.”
“Oh, Adrien…” She dropped her towel and turned around to hug his shaking form. “It’s okay, you can let it out.”
“I’m just so tired of crying, Ladybug.” He choked out. “It feels like it’s all I’ve been doing lately. It’s not fair, I should be happy.”
“Adrien?” She said hesitantly, taking notice of the hysterical note his voice took.
“I have friends, I’m going to school and I have a wonderful girlfriend. I should be happy. Hell, I should be ecstatic!” His voice slowly grew in volume and she desantagled herself from his arms to look at his glassy eyes. “Why am I not happy?”
Because of your father. She wanted to say. Because Adrien’s weird complex with his model persona? His isolation from his friends? His family drama? It all boiled down to Gabriel and it would be so easy for her to just say it.... But Adrien was too vulnerable right now. 
Because of me. She also wanted to say. Because Adrien’s school life wasn’t as enjoyable with Marinette Dupain-Cheng’s avoidance of him and the whole class aware of their forced break up. Alya urged to talk to him everyday, but just the thought of facing Adrien with no mask after everything that happened made her skin break out into hives.
Because of me. She wanted to say even more, emphasize. Because Ladybug, as Adrien’s girlfriend, was absolutely useless. She was someone whose real name and face he didn’t know, who he couldn’t introduce to his friends and family. And if he did? It was doomed anyways. She felt helpless, relying on words when all she wanted was to fix his problems.
She would never say any of that, though, too scared of ruining her relationship with Adrien.
Like you ruined yours with Chat? A malicious voice rang around her head. It sounded like herself. 
“It’s all I ever wanted…” He continued, sounding exhausted. “So why am I like this?”
“You don’t have to be happy just because you have those things, you know?” She said gently, taking his hand on hers. “It doesn’t make you ungrateful or anything.”
“I-I guess so.” Adrien admitted, squeezing her hand. “But I’m just tired of being sad, Ladybug.”
An idea popped into her head.
“Then let’s do something about it.” Ladybug looked outside the window and sure enough, the rain had faded away, leaving the cloudy sky. “You know what always cheers me up? A yo-yo ride.”
“Are you saying…?” He said, eyes becoming more focused.
“Do you think your father would notice if you left?”
He snorted. “Definitely not. But what if it rains again?”
“It’s not like we're made of sugar.” She said, opening the window and holding out her hand. “I would never let you fall. Trust me?”
Adrien’s eyes softened. “Always, my love.”
And then they were soaring through the sky. Even though it was barely after five in the afternoon, the sky was dark enough it looked like late at night, so Adrien got the full experience of soaring through the Parisian night lights. Ladybug had a hard time steering them as she could barely keep her eyes away from Adrien’s awed face and shining eyes. They swung between the building for a few minutes before she noticed he was shivering, so they stopped on top of a very familiar building near her parent’s bakery.
Chat’s rooftop for the romantic surprise that day… She shook away those thoughts before they could consume her. 
“I should have told you to put on a sweater before we left.” Ladybug told Adrien, hugging his shivering body to her. “I forget how windy it can get and that I don’t feel very cold in the suit and…”
“Hey, it’s okay, my hero.” He said, sounding a lot more chirpy than before. “I got so excited that I forgot, too.”
“Well, at least I can warm you up like this.” She said, tightening her arms and he hummed happily.
“Maybe that was my plan all along.” Adrien teased, wiggling his eyebrows.
“You only had to ask, handsome.” Ladybug answered, enjoying the flush it brought to his face. “So, did you enjoy it?”
“Enjoy it? I loved it! It felt so… different.” His smile was brighter than the lights around them.
“Good. You deserve to have nice things.” She said, rubbing his back. “Look, I can’t solve all your problems, no matter how much I want to. But if I can give you anything in my reach, please tell me.”
“You already do more than enough, my love.” And he truly believed that, from the way he looked at her. “I just get overwhelmed, sometimes. I feel like I’m in such a better place than I was last year, so I shouldn’t be so… ungrateful.”
“You’re not ungrateful, Adrien.” She repeated her words from their previous conversation. “It’s okay to be sad.”
“I know that, objectively, but it doesn’t feel like that.” Adrien sighed, looking up from the girl in his arms to the sky. “Uh… Ladybug?”
“Yeah?”
“I think it’s going to-” Before he could finish, it started to rain once again, heavily.
Ladybug spluttered and Adrien, already looking soaked, laughed at the ridiculous situation. She quickly contemplated her options, holding back from just grabbing Adrien and taking him to her balcony so they could hide in her room. Instead, she did what she always did when she didn’t know what to do. 
“Lucky Charm!” She shouted, magic flaring up around her and changing her suit to its new form. An open umbrella fell into her hands and she put it over their heads, even if they were already too wet for it to be useful.
“Wow.” Adrien said, eyes shining. “I haven’t been able to see it so close yet. Especially since you’re not, you know, in battle.”
“I’m still getting used to this transformation after transformation stuff.” She said, trying to steady the umbrella against the strong wind. “What do you think of the new suit?”
“I think it suits you.” He said and laughed when she rolled her eyes. “Thanks for lucky charming this umbrella. Think I can keep it?”
“Dunno, never tried to keep a lucky charm. But why? Can’t even buy an umbrella, rich boy?”
“I did have you. It was my mother’s, but it’s safe with a friend. A good one.” His gaze turned melancholic as it slid to the balcony on the top of Tom&Sabine’s. 
She was suddenly overwhelmed with the need to tell him. Tell him she has his umbrella, that it meant so much more to her than he could ever think, that there has never been anyone else for her, that her coming to visit him was as much for her sake as it was for his, that she wanted to hold his hand in class, that she wanted to go on double dates with Nino and Alya, that she wanted his father to suck it if he disapproved.That she’s Marinette Dupain-Cheng and she’s irrevocably in love with Adrien Agreste.
But she can’t. And didn’t that hurt?
“I’m glad you have good friends, Adrien.” She said, burying her head on his chest so he wouldn’t see the guilt in her eyes.
“I’m glad, too.” He murmured back, unaware of how her chest was caving in under the weight of so much emotion. 
They stayed under the umbrella until the heavy rain wore down. When Marinette woke up with a light fever and a sore throat the next day and her doting mother called the school to say she wouldn’t show up, she only had one thought on her mind.
I want to tell Adrien who I am. 
11 notes · View notes
hecohansen31 · 4 years
Text
Secrets Whispered
Michael Langdon x Secretive! Reader
(A/N): Hello there, lovelies!
Long time no see, right?
I just thought about this idea, since @guiltyfiend (also please do let me know, when you know what you prefer what you’d like as your ko-fi reward!) made me an amazing ship based about this concept and I just couldn’t wait to do something about it.
I am also personally, maybe (since I don’t feel apprecciated in the other fandoms I am in) of making a few comebacks in this fandom, if any of you would like iit obviously!
So, please, if you want more, don’t forget to leave some kind of feedback I truly apprecciate it from the bottom of my heart and it’ll truly make my heart beat stronger and my fingers write faster!
Don’t ever ever forget to support your beloved writers with feedback, if you liked what they wrote!
Have a nice reading!
SUMMARY: Michael is immediately fascinated by you as there are just too many mysteries around you.
WORDS: 2,9 K
WARNINGS: Mention of Trauma, Mention of The End of The World, Apocalypse-Antichrist and all that stuff, Also I am just extremely rusty about writing Michael, so please do bear with me if this sucks...
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Michael had noticed immediately how you stood out of everyone else in the Outpost he had been ‘examining’.
It wasn’t some kind of ‘cheery and flashy standing out’, like many of the women and men that threw themselves at his feet or thought to impress him with a few sassy words that would get them instead on his nerves.
No, you simply stood out, because you didn’t try anything to impress him.
And no one in the Outpost seemed to truly know you.
Which was very strange for a group of people that had passed six months with only the company of each other in a closed off place, but whenever he’d question people about their relationships with you, he’d receive always the same answer.
They didn’t know nothing more than him.
You weren’t certainly shy, since you liked chattering with others  next to the fireplace, but there was some mindless rhythm to the conversation that made it particularly difficult for him to discover much about you, since he couldn’t help but feel like you used soft and polite words as a shield.
So, he couldn’t lie when he admitted to you that he had been looking forward to the interview.
Your eyes had ducked immediately down to your hands, a slight blush on your cheeks, but he knew that you weren’t simply faking modesty.
In all truth what you were doing was simply hiding your reaction to him.
To avoid giving yourself away.
He had known back then that it would be quite the power struggle with you and when he had started questioning you, all he had gotten were curt but short answers.
‘Is your name…?’ ‘Yes’.
‘… and your parents are…’ ‘Yes’.
‘… before the whole Apocalypse, you worked at a local library, didn’t you?’ ‘It was actually a bookshop, sir’.
And it was almost unnerving, hadn’t Michael, as always felt, like there was some thrilling challenge in your words and secretive demeanor, but his haughty tone had quickly shifted, when an answer of yours had surprised him.
‘Why, Mrs. (L/N), should you be chosen for the Sanctuary’ he had asked, hoping it would get him some kind of reaction from you, and it had.
Your head had finally pushed itself up to meet his eyes, immediately latching themselves onto Michael’s light blue.
‘… I don’t think that I even want to go to the Sanctuary, sir’ there was some kind of innocence in your reply that would have sounded arrogant from anybody else, hadn’t it been, like in your case, the utter truth ‘… for me it isn’t a question of deserving it, sir’.
The added words had certainly meant to somehow soothe the veiled insult the previous ones had uttered behind themselves.
‘Why do you think such an unconventional thing, little dove?’ the nickname this time got an honest shade of red placing itself on your cheek ‘… must I remind you that one of the few rules I’d like all the residents to follow is to be sincere to the core?’.
But he knew you weren’t lying.
And yet, it would have been easier if you had.
Although he strangely didn’t want this to be easier, because he liked complicated people, even more in a situation like this one, one in which everybody seemed so dull in the face of the end of the world.
But you were anything but dull underneath that defied appearance.
‘I am sincere’ there was fire in what you said, like it thoroughly burned in your heart.
Like you believed it wholeheartedly.
And Michael liked that.
‘… I just…’ now slowly something intimate and personal was coming on your face ‘… if this world had come to an end, is it natural that we continue on living on borrowed time?’.
There was such a longing ache in your words, as if you knew that they were true and yet you hadn’t ever had the courage to utter them, because they would have sounded foolish.
And they would have to anybody but Michael.
He also lived on borrowed time.
‘Humans ache for survival’ he commented, loving the contrast that your eyes made at hearing those words ‘… in any way or shape. It’s a natural instinct’.
‘And yet survival isn’t living’ you spoke softly, your head slowly turning away to look around yourself, as if you had again to hide your true self and Michael couldn’t help but be almost wounded by the move that meant a backward step in your journey.
He had been interested when this conversation had started with you, but now he was… almost enamored with what you had said.
What you hid so attentively, guarding it as a dragon would do with his own treasure.
‘It isn’t the same thing, you are right’ the low tone of his voice was enough to regain your attention ‘… but isn’t surviving better than staying outside where the toxic air would kill you, in a few minutes?’.
And now sadness crept on your face, alongside tiredness, as if you already knew what would be happening, next.
What Michael would have said.
And you were tired of it.
And it was enough to get your blood boiling, in a wonderful reaction in front of Michael’s eyes, happy to have gotten under your skin, but what you said hit him deep inside.
‘I must seem selfish for thinking this way…’ your voice was low, but it had an edge to it that brought, this time, Michael to focus his attention on you ‘… but I never asked to be saved, some people just stormed in my house, because they said I had some kind of special blood… and they… they took me, meanwhile my whole family died’.
He would have laughed in the face of everyone, had they said something similar, because he knew that it was all a show to convince him.
But you thought that truly.
‘There are millions of people better than me, and I got fucking lucky to be the only one to be here, alone and useless…’ now you were through your own ‘delirium’ and although Michael had been desperately looking to dig in your own soul, he felt like he had just hit a moment that was too private.
Maybe a bit too much.
‘… I am not the one you want to bring to the Sanctuary. If the world has come to an end, it must mean something’.
That Michael’s plan had worked.
But he almost felt guilty for it.
‘… I am sorry’ the words were now quiet, as the others you had uttered echoed deeply in the walls of his small private quarters ‘… it must… I must have misspoken myself’.
‘Oh no no’ his tone was rushed and although he knew that he was showing her something that he had always kept inside of himself, treasuring them attentively ‘… had all the interviews been as interesting as yours, Mrs. (Y/N)’.
Strangely the words weren’t of any comfort to you, although Michael accompanied it with a soft smirk on it, definitely less devious than the one he had for other people.
But he guessed he must have still looked like a wolf clothed in sheep clothes.
‘… is this over?’.
Whatever he had gained through the interview had somehow been completely dispersed, now and you looked like you desperately wanted to go away, somehow, probably because whatever mask had been held in place was now shattered on the ground.
‘Yes, it is’ and he hadn’t ever seen somebody raise that fast with a full set of petticoats ‘… but, I’d like to talk to you, more, Mrs. (Y/N)’.
A bitter smile was now on your face.
‘There are better people in here’ you spoke, and he detected finally something that you had hidden for so long: insecurity.
And as much as he wanted to desperately use it against you: he couldn’t bring himself to.
‘… more deserving of the Sanctuary’.
‘I’ll take that into consideration, if you don’t have any other suggestion for me on how to do my job’.
‘Again, my mouth speaks words that I don’t truly mean…’.
It was almost adorable the way you rushed to apologize.
But there was no fear in your eyes.
It was a first.
‘… I was joking’.
A breath of relief still escaped your lips, and as soon as it had appeared it was now gone.
‘I didn’t think that the devil could joke’.
And your last words effectively knocked the air out of his lungs.
Michael knew for sure that you had been avoiding him, probably uncomfortable with what you had shared with him.
Or better what he had forced you to share.
You’d leave supper early, as soon as he joined it and you’d rush your step whenever you met him in the corridors.
And it was such a shame, since he wanted to get to know you better.
So, he had planned like some kind of idiotic male a small strategy to meet you alone in the library, that afternoon, stalking attentively every step of your day, soon realizing that you visited the enormous local at least once a day, after lunch so that you could unwind and another time after dinner, setting up the book that your fellow housemates had left everywhere in the room.
You had an order of your own and you respected it almost maniacally.
A routine of some kind and Michael took advantage of it, catching you as you were completely taken by a reddish volume in your hands a pile of half-forgotten books adjusted beside you, as if you had suddenly been taken by the impulse to search through the pages of the book.
He wondered whether they had asked for you and you hadn’t been able to deny the claim of the paper.
‘… interesting reading?’ he had startled you, and you had immediately closed the book, almost risking to hit your nose, meanwhile Michael wasn’t able to stop a laugh from leaving his mouth  and you lowered your head to hid an embarrassed annoyance on your elegant face.
He had carved its traits in his pillow as he dreamt, a tormented dream of you standing right on the pillow next to him, staring at him longingly but resistance always matched it, in your eyes.
‘… definitely is’ you commented, meanwhile you turned the book so that he could look at his title, the defiance in your gestures didn’t have to speak loudly for it to be fully understood ‘… ‘The Scarlet Letter’ by Nathaniel Hawthorne, have you ever read it?’.
Michael had been a child when books had entered his life in silly fairy tales that his grandmother and then his ‘adoptive mother’ had started telling him, as they slowly got darker by the time grew into the figure he had been shaped in since childhood.
But as he had grown up, he had swiftly forgotten the pleasure of reading, different things occupying his mind and he hadn’t ever had a break to properly catch up with human literature, alongside.
And because of that and much more, he had to admit it that the passion of reading had slipped outside of his fingers quite early.
‘I sadly must say that I haven’t’.
Unsurprisingly insolence stayed on your face.
But it was also some kind of teasing innocence.
‘… it is actually an interesting and timeless story’ you explained, a twinkle of easiness on your face ‘… slutshaming is still very much real in here, since Venable would also oblige us to wear a scarlet letter on our chest, would she ever find out that somebody had sex with somebody else in here’.
Michael wondered whether you were you such a smartass always or only in the book department.
Either way, Michael enjoyed it thoroughly.
You seemed slightly less guarded off in the library and he could only guess that it felt the same way he felt in his own private chamber.
Hidden behind his extravagant clothes and his father’s influence.
‘You think that those rules are ridiculous’ it wasn’t a question and yet you nodded lightly ‘… well, I do find them a bit antique myself’.
‘You’d expect the dresses would be a torture enough’ you muttered, as you shot his a softer look ‘… and the poor Greys… it is almost… horrible how they are treated… very Charles Dickens’.
There was a light twinkle of madness as you said that and he could clearly see that although you had admitted that you didn’t want to go to the Sanctuary, you weren’t neither interested in staying here further.
‘Have you ever thought about stopping your survival instinct’ he wanted to ask you, but he knew that one wrong question would destroy all the soft climate that had appeared between you two, so he preferred to steer the conversation on human literature, something that got you quite passionate.
And he admired that love and that passion.
To be loved with such intensity it must have a thoroughly miraculous experience.
And he dreamt about it that night.
The following day he found himself in the library again and soon enough he discovered much more than your literary tastes.
He discovered your favorite colors and as he dressed himself up each morning, he wore them,  discovering that they immediately caught your eyes, in a way that seemed like some kind of animal mating ritual.
What had the Antichrist reduced himself to be just for the touch of a small flame of your love?
A complete actor and a clown at your service,
But slowly the ice in your personality started melting and he found that you had started to lean on his company as if you enjoyed it, encouraged it, even, although this didn’t mean that you had opened up to him in any way of shape.
And by this time Michael wasn’t sure whether you’d ever open up to him.
But you had your own way of showing devotion and interest.
Exactly as he did.
Once he had gotten quite along with you, he had given you his ring as a way to show that he somehow trusted you.
As a way to get you to know that he felt respect for you, although it was all hidden behind the premise of you ‘taking care of it’.
But it was a different show of rank and also it was a show of devotion and interest.
And when you had started wearing it, on a small chain around your neck, the pendant coming slowly to set itself on your chest whenever you stood up, in a way that made it pass unnoticed to everyone except you two.
And soon your crush had flared up.
Michael had been shocked when you had moved closer to him, in one of his afternoon library session, as you closed the book you were reading, ‘Pride and Prejudice’ one of your favorites definitely.
‘… you must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire you’ you had said loudly, almost as if you were sure this would be a big fail or an even bigger success, and then you had moved closer to him, something shy and clumsy in your antics as you pressed your lips against his.
And Michael, exactly like a clumsy teenager, as well was slow in his reply to you, pawing your shoulder harshly but you still kept your lips locked a few minutes more to make sure that it wasn’t an accident.
And when you separated you were looking at him expectantly.
‘… isn’t that what I am supposed to say?’ he asked softly, a small smile on your face, softness and genuineness appearing in both your faces.
‘I just thought that I am more Mr. Darcy between us two’ you commented and Michael suddenly felt very surprised by the fact that you knew about your behavior, your secretiveness and your shyness, the walls that blocked him from properly getting to know you ‘… it is just that… you are… you are not who I expected to fall in love with’.
A strange rage had filled him at that, matched with an uneasy annoyance at himself.
It was always the same story: he got rejected.
And you didn’t even know he was the antichrist.
‘… you definitely looked out of my league’ there was a glint of amusement in your eyes and a peak of relief in Michael’s chest as he came closer to you, the second kiss being definitely less messy than the first one, and the one that followed after.
And the one after.
And before he knew it you were both in his chambers, completely disrupting Venable’s rule about fornicating with each other.
And it felt good.
And those walls that you had up had come down, since you had let him in yourself in a way that had made him feel almost understood, as you fought for dominance and power under the sheets, before it settled in a small victory on his part.
Although from the moans, you definitely enjoyed it.
And now you were simply enjoying the quiet.
The quiet before the storm, since he knew that he couldn’t deny the true nature of his powers, anymore to you.
But he could delay the reveal a bit, as you smiled at him.
And your smile held the sweetest of secrets.
And he was glad he hadn’t solved each one you held.
---
Michael Langdon Taglist (I don’t really have a taglist anymore, so if you are interested on being there for Michael do let me know, and I’ll add you, if I ever think about writing something for him again!):
@blakewaterxx​
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Text
Rainy Days (Part 4 of 4)
Link to AO3 -----  Part 1  Part 2  Part 3
Summary: Emma and Julian are in charge of the London Institute for a week and find a box that once belonged to Cordelia Carstairs and contains poems written to her by James Herondale. The story switches between Emma and Julian and oneshots about things that happened in Jordelia's life to inspire the poems.
Sorry if the formatting for the poems is messed up, I tried.
Thank you all so much for reading this story, I really enjoyed writing it <3
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“Daisies must have been her favorite flower or something” Emma says as they look around the room. Looking now that was a very obvious statement. Even some of the blankets neatly folded on the end of the bed had daisies embroidered on them. The wall paper was lined with a daisy print and on the box itself was intricately carved flowers. There are also some very old flowers that were carefully pressed and put in the box next to the poems. They were afraid to touch them for fear that they would fall apart. 
“Yeah, maybe I will do a painting of her when we go home,” Julian says thoughtfully, “I should include some daisies if I do.” 
“I’m sure it will be great,” Emma says thinking of his other paintings. He has done so many great pieces that if he was a mundane she was sure his work would be in an art gallery. The institute itself had turned into a sort of gallery these days, some people visited just to see the murals Julian painted on the walls.
They both were laying back on the bed and Jules had his arm around Emma. This was a nice day off after the busy day they had yesterday, they had run into some demons by the river and were outnumbered. Luckily, Emma is the best shadowhunter of their generation. Her wielding Cortana was definitely a scene he wanted to paint when he got home. The grace of her movements when she was fighting was like a dance, he could never quite capture the movement with a set of acrylics. 
He checked his watch, they had plenty of time before Jem and Tessa would get here. 
“We should read another poem,” he suggested. “They are kind of interesting to see what they said to each other 100 years ago.”
“Ok, I will,” she says, reaching into the box again for another poem. There was one titled Rainy Days.
“That seems fitting for today,” Julian says, glancing out the window. Emma reads the poem aloud.
Rainy Days
Outside the sky is dark and gray, The rain falls in puddles on the ground, We are in the library by the fireplace, Listening as it down pours all afternoon.
The heat of the flames warms the room, You by my side warms my heart. Even on the darkest of dreary days, You light up everything by being there.
Now you are asleep next to me, While I write about our day. I'm starting to think that I quite like, These warm and rainy days.
It was another rainy spring day in London, the snow had just melted and it was still very cold out. You could hear the wind blowing all around outside, it was quite the stormy day. None of the merry thieves or their family members would be venturing out today, they too were curled up by a fire, just like Cordelia and James. 
James now looked at the sleeping Cordelia on his lap, she looked so at peace. Her soft red hair was undone and free from it’s unusual style, he combed his fingers gently through it. He thought about the day they had had. Today was very good weather for writing. With a notebook in his hand he began to come up with ideas. 
------
“Good morning,” Cordelia says, sitting next to James at the kitchen table. She poured a cup of tea and looked out the window, it was raining very hard and forming puddles in the street. 
“Good morning” James responds, reaching for some breakfast, “Looks like any plans for today are cancelled”
“I think it is far too cold to go adventuring in London,” Cordelia says with a shiver, it was almost spring but they still had many cold days ahead of them. 
They finished their breakfast talking about rain and what crazy things their friends have been up to lately. Christopher had been working on a new invention, Mathew caused some trouble at the Hell Ruelle, nothing much different than usual. They then decided to head upstairs to the study where they could sit by the warm fire and play a game of chess. 
“Shâm-Mât” Cordelia says, winning her 12th consecutive game in a row. James just laughs as they reset the board for another game. There isn’t much to do and he is still holding on to hope that he can win at least one round.
“You're too good at this,” James says with a smirk. She has always been brilliant at battle strategy, she could outsmart any opponent she faced. He looked at her with a smile as she planned her next move, her face was full of concentration. He could feel her plotting his demise. 
They played chess until it was time for lunch, the sky was still gray with rain clouds. They then decided to venture to the library to look for a book to read on this cold and rainy day. James walked over to put more wood on the fire while Cordelia went to look for a book. They settled on the couch by the fire, Cordelia leaning her head against James’s shoulder while he read from an old volume of The Pickwick Papers by Charles Dickens. There were a lot of Dickens novels in the library mostly from James’s parents' fascination with the author. Will and Tessa were both staying in Wales for a week and were not at the institute, it was just James and Cordelia. 
She began to fall asleep and he smiled as he see the book on the night stand. He grabbed his notebook and began to write. 
---------
So now James was still sitting on the couch trying to write a poem about the letter but he realized the poem wasn’t what he should be writing about, he spent the whole day with Cordelia and she was more fierce and interesting than any storm. 
______________________________
“That was very fitting for today,” Emma says, putting the poems back in the box. She looks at the time quickly, Jem and Tessa would be there soon. 
“It must rain here a lot,” Julian says, “I miss the beach” They laugh, they would be back in LA soon enough to deal with the chaos that ensues there. 
They had just renovated the institute more and had been busy painting more murals on the walls. They also updated their computer and Jules got a laptop which made some things easier and more organized. 
They hear footsteps coming down the hall and Tessa looks into the room. 
“I see you found James and Cordelia’s room,” she says with a smile. 
“I haven’t been here in years,” Jem says looking around the room. Tessa was looking at the box in Emma’s hands. 
“I see you found Cordelia’s jewelry box,” Tessa smiles as though she is remembering her, “She is an ancestor of yours, she was a Carstairs before she married my son.” 
“James, right? Did he write poetry?” Emma asks. Tessa looked a bit confused.
“Yes, he did. But I thought I had all his notebooks saved at my house, did you find one?” 
“We didn’t find a whole notebook but we did find a few poems he wrote to Cordelia.” Jules says. Emma opens the box and pulls out the pieces of paper. 
“I always wondered where the ripped out pages went, I always assumed they were just rough drafts that got tossed away.” She paused for a moment, “did you two happen to find a book called The Beautiful Cordelia. I have been looking for it for a while now and I know Cordelia had it.”
Emma pointed over to the shelf they had originally found the box on. Tessa pulled out the leather bound book that had The Beautiful Cordelia across the top in fancy calligraphy and a small “by Lucie Herondale” on the bottom. 
“Thank you,” Tessa said, holding the book. Jem was looking at something across the room. 
“Hey, did some of our stuff get moved up here too,” he asked, picking up a stele. 
“I think so, did you find something?” Tessa asks. 
“This was Will’s stele,” He says, handing it to her and looking slightly incredulous. “How much of our stuff is still here?” Tessa laughs.
“Leave some for the other generations, we don’t want to fill our house with 100 years worth of clutter.” 
They all turn to leave and go get something to eat. They would never forget the poems they found, the remnants of someone else's rainy day, of another time period far away yet so near to them. While the day was dreary, dark, and wet, never let the weather depict whether there is a storm cloud raining on your day off.
_____________________________
Cordelia looks at the poems one more time with a smile before placing them in her new jewelry box. It had been an anniversary gift from James. It is wooden with her name and intricate little daisies carved onto it. The box truly is beautiful. It had been raining so she took the opportunity to organize a bit but now the sun was peeking out from behind the clouds. 
James walked over and kissed her on the cheek while she latched the box shut. 
“ We were invited to a picnic in the park, just the usual group. Do you want to go?” He asks, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. 
“That sounds lovely,” she says, standing up from the bed and carrying the box over to the shelf. She puts it between The Beautiful Cordelia and a book of persian mythology her mother had given her. She slipped on her shoes and took James’s hand. They walked off happy as can be, standing in the sun for a change instead of being stuck inside on those rainy days.
Tag list: @fortheloveofthecarstairs  @thehotfaeriethreesome  @shadowrunner2000  @alastair-esfandiyar-carstairs1 @surrounded-by-exquisite-clutter @gabtapia  @niathesanctuary-bolastair-kanej
Let me know if you want to be added or removed from the tag list :)
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niksixx · 4 years
Text
Patience
~The final part!! Thank you for reading and supporting this mini series. I hope you enjoy part 5.~
Pairing: Axl Rose/Vince Neil x Female Reader 
A/N: Reblog so others can see! 
*Picture is NOT mine. Found on Google. Credit to the owner!*
Tag list: @littlemisscare-all @curly-hudson @julessworldd @madamsixx @headlight-queen @metalheartofgold @ginny-baker-sixx @mickmarstookmyheart @gunsngunners @bex-tothe-rescue
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It’s raining again, and the weather outside matches your mood. Dark gray clouds cover the sky, and lightning strikes every so often. It’s one of the colder days in California, and you tug the sleeves of your sweater down to cover your wrists.
Vince hasn’t spoken to you in two days, and you haven’t heard from Axl since your boyfriend threatened him out of your house. You spent that day scrubbing the icing from the kitchen, tears sliding down your cheeks as Vince screamed at you the whole time. He left that night to visit a bar with Nikki, leaving you to cry softly in your bed. He didn’t return until the next morning.  
Two days later, your lips still tingle from the kiss you and Axl shared. It was the first time in weeks you’d felt something. Something good. Something wholesome. The tenderness in the kiss kept you wanting more, wanting to feel his lips on yours again.
In your heart, there’s conflicting feelings. And no one is there for guidance. Whatever Axl feels for you is strong. It could be love, and you’re not sure if you feel the same thing.
Of course, all three of the Mötley boys would listen to you ramble about your troubles, but none of them were experts in the dating scene. None of them had been in love before, with the exception of Tommy, but he fell in love with every woman he laid eyes on.
There’s an ache in your heart as you sit by the television, thinking back on the past three years you spent with Vince. Times that you hid in the shadows away from paparazzi. Times where you watched music award ceremonies on television, a pain in your heart knowing that you’d never be on Vince’s arm congratulating him. What kind of a relationship was that?
Even in the privacy of your own home, Vince struggled to love you and care for you. He wasn’t affectionate by nature. He’d greet you with small little pecks on your cheeks or lips, and his sex drive was usually through the roof, but being intimate with Vince felt anything other than intimate. It felt like a chore, and you were bored within ten minutes. With Vince, there was no cuddling or showering after sex, no confessions of love. It was hard to be open and honest with him about your wants and needs, because half of the time he seemed uninterested, or played you off as needy, clingy. It hurt, especially because you’d do anything for him. Mick had always said you deserved better. And Axl had said it too. When were you going to believe it?
There’s faint footsteps behind you as your eyes are glued to the TV, catching the last bit of a Skid Row music video. They were good, sure, but nothing compared to Motley Crue or even Guns N’ Roses.
There’s a change of scenery on the TV that makes you blink twice. It’s a live video, currently happening right at that moment, as Axl and his bandmates settle themselves into stools in an empty studio.
“Get them off my screen,” Vince calls from behind you. He sits at the dining room table, beer bottle suffocating in his grasp.
You don’t even pay him much mind. “You can leave if you don’t like it. I’m keeping it on.”
Surprisingly, he doesn’t fight back, but you hear him mumble a few curse words under his breath. The last words out of his mouth sound like a defeated “I give the fuck up with you.”
On screen, Axl is handed a microphone as more are distributed to the rest of the band. Tilting your head slightly, you drink in his appearance, obsessed with the way he presents himself. He’s more casual today, with both a bandana and a hat on his head, a short sleeve white shirt that shows off his unique tattoos, and tight leather pants that shouldn’t look as good on him as they do.
“This was a spur of the moment type of thing,” he says shyly, rubbing a palm on his thigh. Nervous habit.  “We wrote this song in about two hours a few nights ago and the reason I was eager to play it today...is because I wrote it for a woman who I’ve been shamelessly in love with since I was sixteen years old.”
Something in the air shifts. Slack mouthed, you sit up straight as you turn up the volume. The sound of a chair scratching against the floor has goosebumps littering your skin, and before you know it Vince is standing beside you, gritting his teeth. He takes a long swig of the alcohol, wiping his lips with the back of his hand, before setting his jaw, folding his tanned arms across the front of his black muscle tee.
“So Y/N, if by some miracle you’re watching this right now, I want you to know that you were the only person on my mind as we wrote this song. It is solely, purely, for you.”
“Along with all the other love songs he’s written,” Izzy deadpans.
Vince’s eyes burn into the side of your head, but all your attention is directed toward the television as Axl begins to hum a soft tune.
~~~
It’s almost as if you forget how to breathe. It’s an easy process, in and out, in and out, but you struggle with something so simple as the song ends.
Vince hasn’t moved. His face is still visibly flushed, knuckles the palest shade of white as his hand still grips his beer, but he stands completely frozen, eyes boring into the television screen.
You shift uncomfortably on the sofa, pushing your feet deeper into the back of the couch underneath you, reaching out to place a gentle hand on your fuming boyfriend’s elbow. He pulls away, uninterested, and he sips the remaining liquid in the bottle.
“Vinnie…”
“The dude just doesn’t listen,” The laugh that falls from his lips is anything but humorous. It’s empty and dark. There’s an edge to his low voice, and while it’s not angry, it’s...cool. Even. It frightens you. “How many times do I have to tell him to stay away from you? How many different fucking ways can he come up with to get your attention?”
“Vince I had no idea he was going to do something like this.”
But hell, if it wasn’t the most romantic thing a man has ever done for you. He’d broadcasted to the world his raw feelings and emotions, and there was something so sexy about a man who wasn’t afraid to be vulnerable and knew what, or who, he wanted. And the song, so sweet and meaningful, confirmed your suspicions. Axl Rose, the little boy from the playground, the man who sang his heart out on live TV, was in love with you.
Vince shakes his head, clapping a closed fist into an open palm. “This is your fault, you know.”
You blink, standing from the couch, folding your arms over the oversized green sweater. “My fault?”
He takes a step forward, but this time you don’t back down. “You let him back in your life. For seven years you’ve been fine without him, but all of a sudden you meet him one day on the street and decide you apparently can’t live without him? Bullshit.”
“He was my best friend!”
“And I’m your boyfriend!” Vince shouts back. He takes another step forward, nose to nose, and with the strength you gather from your very core, you shove him out of your face.
“You’re nothing!”
The anger in your voice shocks you, startling Vince. He stumbles against the dining room chair, holding onto the arm to regain his balance.
The air between you sizzles with resentment as Vince licks his lips, chewing on the skin. You're both breathing heavily, neither one backing down. “What did you say to me?”
And everything you've been feeling for the last few years comes out in a wave. “I can’t be with you anymore, Vince. I can’t be with someone who is so controlling of my life. I can’t be with someone who would rather please his record label than his girlfriend. I have been waiting for you to wake up for three years now and realize that I deserve better than what you’re giving me.”
“What the fuck have I done that is so bad, huh?” Vince yells, throwing up his arms. “Tell me. Because I sure as shit don’t know.”
It’s hopeless.
He’s hopeless.
And there’s nothing else you can do besides give up.
~~~
You fight for two hours. Screaming, crying, followed by more screaming and crying. It’s exhausting. Somehow, after pointing out everything Vince has done to you, or what he hasn’t done, he convinces himself he’s never been the problem. And that’s when you realize he’s never going to change.
Your phone has buzzed four times in those two hours, but whoever it was would have to wait. There was too much going on, your head was spinning, skin sweating, heart beating wildly. You were on the brink of ending your relationship after wasting three years of your life trying to convince yourself the man, who was currently nestled in the couch nursing another beer, loved you.
Letting out a defeated sigh, your feet drag against the wooden floor as they carry you to your room. There’s a small duffel bag under the bed and you grab it, fishing out some clothes and stuffing it into the bag. Grabbing a few of your necessary toiletries, you shove them in the side pockets as Vince watches from the doorway.
“Where are you going?”
“I’m not staying here. I’ll go stay at Lei’s or maybe my parents or hell maybe even Mick will let me stay over, but I’m not staying here.”
“We still have a lot to talk about.”
The closet door slams closed as your blood boils. “No, Vince. We have nothing to talk about. Not anymore.”
You zip up the duffel and heave it to the living room, slipping on a pair of beat up Chuck Taylors. You pace the house for your keys, Vince following, watching your every move.
“I love you.”
You stop abruptly, spinning around, sucking in shallow breaths of air. No way. No fucking way was he going to manipulate you into staying. Not with those three goddamn words you longed to hear after such a long time.
“You don’t even know what love is, Vince.”
“Kiss me and I’ll show you.”
You find the keys to your car on the kitchen counter, snagging them from the tile. “I’m not kissing you, Vince. Never again.”
“Why not?”
“Because there’s nothing left!” Heaving the duffel onto your shoulder, you grab your phone and slide it into the side of the bag. “Fuck, at least with Axl I felt something!”
Vince freezes, veins popping out from his forehead. Fidgeting with the hem of your sweater, your mouth dries as you mentally scold yourself for the slip of the tongue.
“He...kissed you?” And for the first time in his life, Vince looks almost...upset. “And you kissed him back?”
Drumming your fingers on your jean clad thigh, you rub your palms against the fabric, wiping off the sweat. “Um…”
“Did you kiss him back?” Vince asks, emphasizing each word. “Yes or no?”
You can’t bring yourself to say it. So you don’t.
But no answer is always an answer.
In a flash, Vince is flying out the door, and you’re following just behind him. He throws open the door to his car, turning the key in the ignition, and fishes his phone from his jeans pockets, quickly dialing before holding it to his ear. “Sixx, what’s the address to Slash’s apartment? He still lives with the rest of ‘em, right?”
All the blood rushes to your cheeks when you realize what Vince is about to do. Throwing yourself at him, you try to pry the phone from his ear, but he stiffarms you, keeping you from the phone. “Don’t worry about what I’m going to do, man. Just tell me the damn address, I know you know it. You did coke with the guy for fucks sake.”  
“Vince, please don’t do this.”
A wicked gleam shines in his eyes, and you hear Nikki recite the address on the other end of the line. Frantically, you run to your car, throwing open the door, only to see Vince take off down the street.
~~~
When you pull up to the apartment, Vince is quickly climbing the stairs, cracking each knuckle. Grabbing your bag from the passenger’s seat, you stagger out of the car, locking it, before climbing the steps two at a time. “Vince, stop!”
He sprints down the hall, too fast for you as you heave the bag further up your shoulder. You watch as he knocks loud and hard on the door, and when it opens, he forces himself inside the apartment.
You hear Duff’s voice. “What the fuck--.” He peeks his head out, eyes widening when he sees you hobbling over. “Y/N? What is going on?”
By the time you reach the door, Vince has Axl pinned against the wall. From the kitchen, Izzy watches, horrified, as Steven and Slash pull on Vince’s shoulders.
“Stop!” Dropping the duffel by the door, you sprint across the room, pulling the two boys away. The last thing you need is someone getting hurt. “Vince, get off him!”
By some miracle, he lets go.
“You want to tell us what’s going on?” Steven directs to no one in particular, hands on his waist.
“How many times do I need to threaten you, Rose?” Vince asks, nostrils flaring as he glares at the startled redhead. “Because clearly, once wasn’t fucking enough.”
“Vin--.”
“She doesn’t fucking want you,” Vince continues. Axl fidgets under his gaze. “No song, no kiss, and yeah, I fucking know about that, too, will ever make her want you. You’re a pathetic excuse of a man. Your daddy didn’t want you, your step-daddy didn’t want you, and my girlfriend sure as fuck doesn’t want you.”
Your heart stills when Axl’s face falls. His father had always been a touchy subject. Though Axl hadn’t remembered much about his biological dad, there was still trauma hidden deep within as his brain tried to block it out. You were the first person Axl had told about the abuse, as he was a victim of both his biological father and step father.  You were there for him then, and just like you promised all those years ago, you’d be here for him now.
Vince backs away and you seize the advantage, positioning your body between them. Letting an open palm fall behind you, your heart bursts with love when another hand slides into yours.
Vince eyes your entwined hands, letting out a shaky laugh. “You’re kidding me, right?”
“We’re done, Vince. You have hurt me for the very last time, and I will not stand here and let you hurt Axl. I simply won’t. Axl is a good man with a good heart and he always has been. And I know he loves me. He’s proved it,” Glancing back over your shoulder, you offer Axl a smile. His eyes are full of love as he watches you, squeezing your hand encouragingly. “And that’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
There’s nothing Vince can say. He can’t fix it. He can’t change. He’s lost you to a better man, a man that knows what he wants, and how to love someone the way they need to be loved.
He looks around the room, fists balled by his sides. Frowns, narrowed eyes, and bared teeth are directed toward him.
From the kitchen, Izzy is the first one to open his mouth. “You have three seconds to get your ass out that door before I call the police.”
With burning eyes, Vince backs away to the door, keeping his gaze locked on your face. “You’re going to regret this.”
He’s met with a confident shake of your head. “No, I don’t think I will.”
At the door, Duff gives Vince a warning stare. The blonde bassist towers over the scrawny blonde singer, looking even more intimidating in his leather apparel. Vince gives him a look before crossing the threshold, and Duff doesn’t hesitate shutting the door in his face.
Tension leaves your shoulders, the boys in the room letting out loud sighs of relief. You turn, lips turning upward. “I heard the song.”
Axl’s face softens. Sliding his hands around the sides of your neck, he pulls you close, foreheads just barely touching. “I figured. And you should know I meant every word.”
You don’t care that there are four boys watching you.
You don’t care that your eyes are shining with unshed tears.
You don’t care that you just ended a three year relationship.
All you care about is the moment when you push forward and kiss the lips in front of you with a fervent need. Arms circle your waist, pulling you deep as lips kiss you deeper. You cling to Axl’s shirt, never wanting to be apart from him again. But you know in your heart he’ll never let you go.
The warmth of his body dissipates when you pull back for a breath, the tips of your fingers grazing over the angles of his jaw, his cheekbones, and slowly coming back to the outline of his lips. They purse together, gently kissing the soft pads of your skin.
“I don’t want to rush anything,” Axl murmurs, and the butterflies in your stomach flutter at the sincerity in his voice.
“Oh, bullshit,” Duff laughs, leaning against the door. “He’d marry you tomorrow if he could.”
“Lovesick fool,” Slash chuckles in agreement, arm resting on Izzy’s shoulder.
“They’re not entirely wrong,” Axl says with a wink. “But the name of the song is Patience for a reason. We have all the time in the world, sugar.”
“I mean, you waited over seven years already, what’s another seven?” Steven jokes heartily.
Hands sliding around Axl’s neck, you pull him toward you once more. He dips to kiss you, and you savor in the feeling. Yeah, you’ll definitely get used to this.
“According to Izzy, you have a few other songs you wrote for me,” you say with a wiggle of your brows. “What do you say you sing them for me?”
In those perfect gray eyes, there’s nothing but love. And you feel it in your heart that you’re beginning to love him, too.  Maybe you won’t have to be patient after all. Love is natural, and with Axl, you don’t have to force it.
He whisks you away to his room, serenading you as you lie comfortably in his arms. He knows the songs by heart, and each one is unquestionably unique with different tones and melodies.
Turning in his arms, he continues to sing as you gaze at his face. So calm. So peaceful. So breathtakingly beautiful. And you realize now that somewhere in your heart, you had always loved that little boy on the playground.
And you were in love with the man he became.  
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rainythefox · 3 years
Text
Nightfall (CH.15)
Synopsis: Pre-Resident Evil 1, slight-AU/Canon Divergence. Claire Redfield comes home to visit her  brother Chris for the holidays but gets caught up in a dangerous game of  cat and mouse with Albert Wesker, the Captain of STARS, after stumbling  upon dark secrets. She can’t call the law; Wesker is the law, and she  can’t tell Chris. She is trapped…Claire/Wesker & Slight Chris/Jill (There’s Wesker & William Bromance too lol). Rated M for smut, language, violence, adult content.
AO3 Link
Chapter 15:Infatuation
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Claire was awake when she heard Chris getting ready for work, but she stayed in bed. She didn’t join him for breakfast or a cup of coffee. She didn’t see him off. She just turned over on her side, away from her door where the hallway light creeped through underneath. She had endured a near sleepless night of tosses and turns, the aches in her muscles a stinging reminder of what she had done.
She must’ve fallen asleep for a couple of hours because she awoke to sunshine peeking through the curtains. The sun was out, reflecting off the snow that blanketed the city. Claire got out of bed and did her usual morning ritual: dressing, brushing her teeth, hopelessly trying to come up with a way to escape her grim situation. Funny how that last one had snuck into her daily routine. Her new normal apparently.
Claire made herself toast and orange juice for breakfast but barely touched it. She tried distracting herself with the newspaper, but there wasn’t anything interesting to read in Raccoon Times.
Umbrella Corporation opens new distribution center, creates 600 new jobs
Mayor Warren promises more funding for local orphanage
Kite Bros. expands Downtown travel with new subway tunnel
Clock Tower Plaza puts up traditional Raccoon City Christmas Tree
Even though Chris left her his truck again, she didn’t want to go anywhere. Where would she go? See a friend and potentially drag them into her situation? Try and get help from someone else that was under Wesker’s boot or on his payroll? Raccoon City seemed like an illusion now, a cesspool of collusion and extortion. As though the rose-colored glasses she had once viewed the city in were ripped from her eyes to expose all of the red flags and blood she couldn’t see before.
Besides, she felt bad for the fight she had with her brother last night. Despite Chris overstepping boundaries with his overprotective nature, he was just concerned for her. He knew she was hiding something and was worried. The Redfield siblings only had each other, for nearly nine years now. Chris had sacrificed time and time again for her, to make sure they could stay together, to make sure she could go to college, always making sure she had what she needed over himself. Even when Chris’s behavior got him discharged more than once, he always put her first.
He knew she could take care of herself. He made sure he taught her all he could. Most brothers were protective of their sisters, but Claire wondered if Chris’s...excessiveness was perhaps a form of PTSD from what happened to their parents. Stepping into that guardian role, he went right into the Air Force, just like their parents. He abandoned a normal future to ensure hers, to keep them together, and to somehow get closer to the parents they had lost.
That was why it was hard to stay mad at him. Even if this time he unmindfully didn’t know the danger he was putting them in with his good, albeit intemperate, intentions.
Claire decided she would apologize when Chris got home that evening. And so, she spent the day trying to be productive, to keep her mind from wandering. She studied for a while, and then cleaned the house for a bit, blasting Queen at high volume. However, no matter what she did, she couldn’t keep herself from thinking about not only her situation, but the man that now had her literally pinned under him. She worried what his next scheme for her would be. But she’d be lying to herself if she denied the excitement that also thrummed through her veins. The strange mix made her queasy.
By the time it started getting dark, Claire realized she had wasted most of her day deep in thought, trying to make sense of it all, plotting for a way out, and maybe spending more time than she’d care to admit thinking about what happened between her and Wesker.
Chris would be home soon, so she started dinner. While cooking, she turned on the television to keep her mind focused, but after a few channel changes, a local news station caught her attention with a caption that filled her lungs with ice.
“Raccoon University professor missing, linked to drugging and sexual assault of multiple students.”
Claire turned up the volume, perturbed, because she just knew which professor they were talking about…
“-ow long has this been going on, Alyssa?” asked the anchor.
The news reporter, a pretty, bob-cut blonde, was quick to answer while standing out in the cold in front of Raccoon University, wearing a white coat and a red suit. “I’m being told this may have been happening for over a year now. The RPD are keeping the victims’ identities under wraps at this time, but I do know there are at least four. Dr. Simon Lowery has been missing for a little over 24 hours, having fled after trying to drug a female student at the open house last night. We have yet to get a statement from his wife, but police are saying she had no idea of his behavior. We’ve heard the same testimonies from colleagues. This is one of those -”
Claire clicked the remote. The TV went black, silent. She stared at the screen, a shocked reflection looking back at her. The news story rubbed her wrong. Lowery was a bad man, she knew that much. He would’ve killed her over those documents, would’ve strangled her in the snow when they fought to keep her quiet over stealing whatever it was she had stolen. But not once did she get the feeling he was like that.
She’d bet money that the news story over Lowery was made up to cover up what really happened. She wasn’t sure if Wesker came up with the story or if it was any of his numerous pawns. Didn’t matter. It proved what she already knew, just like the other day when the news covered that Finley guy’s supposed “suicide” in his car. Just as Wesker had told her before, their fates were whatever he decided. Not just their deaths but their legacies, tainting and twisting them, dismantling and disgracing them, like a true god of death.
The city would never know what really happened to Finley and Lowery, whether they deserved their fates or not.
Claire shook out of her thoughts, a chill running over her as she recalled Finley’s head exploding, blood spraying all over the snow. Why had fate led her down that very same path that day?
A smoky, tangy smell pervaded her nostrils. Dinner was burning! Cursing, she raced into the kitchen to save it. The pork chops were burned on one side but other than that, the rest of dinner turned out okay.
Chris came in not long after she had finished cooking, silently walking over to her spot on the couch as she read a book. The couch shifted when he sat down, and so she looked up from the pages. Still in STARS uniform, her older brother scratched the back of his head, uncomfortable but presenting her an apologetic smile. It was hard to stay mad at him with a puppy-dog face like that.
“Hey…”
“Hey,” she mimicked.
“I’m sorry, Sis. About last night. I clearly went overboard. It’s been eating at me all day.”
“Chris, it’s -”
“Let me finish,” he pleaded. “I know you’re an adult. I know you can kick anyone’s ass. I’m overprotective because of what happened to Mom and Dad.”
She sighed. “I know.”
“But that’s no excuse to act the way I did. I trust you, Claire. And I believe in you. But I get so...obsessed with making sure you’re safe and-and fine that my stupid brain can’t see anything else! I let it get the better of me too much. So, from now on, I’ll work hard to keep myself from going overboard and to trust you more. N-Not that I haven’t trusted you! You’ve never given me a reason to doubt you. It’s stupid of me to act like you have. We’ve always had that unspoken pact that we can tell each other anything and it will always stand.”
Claire shifted uncomfortably in her spot. “A-Always.”
“I love you, Sis. I’m really sorry.”
The Redfield siblings were both stubborn and proud, and so sometimes it was Chris who apologized first and sometimes it was Claire. Although Chris usually gave in before she did. Despite that, this was still pretty soon for Chris to give in, as big as a fight they had. Claire wondered if something happened at work that made Chris come to his senses faster. Maybe Jill talked to him? Wouldn’t be the first time. She was her brother’s best friend, after all.
She decided it wasn’t important for now. She had been ready to apologize to her brother when he got home, and here he was apologizing as well. She was ready to put the whole fight behind them and move on...as best as she could in her predicament anyway. At least Chris had seemingly given up pushing her for answers. What a lucky break! Jill must’ve really lined him out.
Claire hugged Chris. “I’m sorry too, Bro. Love you!”
His strong arms wrapped around her and squeezed hard. For years growing up, it had been the safest feeling in the world. She always cherished it. Soon they pulled away, and got up to eat dinner.
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William paced, flipping through pages, catching important details and logging them away at a rate far faster than the average person. Wesker leaned against the wall, dressed in his STARS attire, watching him pace a trench in front of him. Always calm, always collected. How did he do it?!
The cable car shuddered, flicking the light overhead as it rose to the surface. He hated taking this hunk of junk! Normally, he didn’t have to, but they were meeting Irons in the sewers. Perfect place to find the slimy rat.
“No! Goddamn it, no! Why? They said Sheena Island was strictly testing and experimentation! That old bastard is moving my Hunter research there without my consent, and now the Tyrants? Mass production on a prototype? Even if they perfect the Epsilon strain, it’s nowhere near ready for cloning!”
“Are you truly all that surprised?” Wesker asked.
“No, I just…” William sighed. “It’s shit like this that tells me Spencer has no plans to put me on the executive board! If I don’t get in there, we’ll never be able to fulfill our plans! And there’s no way in hell I’m bartering the G-Virus for that spot. It’s my legacy, mine to completely control. He’ll have to pry it from my cold, dead fingers!”
“Best not tempt fate, old friend.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
“At any rate, your tantrum is premature. With those numbers, the Sheena Island facility won’t be operable for any kind of mass production until August at the earliest. The research team on the Epsilon strain knows that the T-002 will be obsolete by the time it is finished. More than likely a new model is being developed and that will be the one they intend to manufacture. We have time to take this knowledge and use it to our advantage later.”
Birkin snorted. Lately Al’s “optimism” gave him anxiety. "Don’t you think we have our fingers in too many pies already? And toes at this rate. We’re wearing ourselves thin, Al. With too many enemies waiting for us to screw up.”
It was a reasonable concern. Sheena Island’s true motives were still mostly top-secret for now, going by this information sent by Alex. Roth must’ve bought this information from this other cohort of his, and was probably trying to haggle deals with Mueller, Lowery, and Bard. As well as Crawford and Finley. William made a mental note to thank Alex for this later. Wesker may have been a member of the Umbrella Intelligence Division as well, but he meticulously watched his dealings, aware of Spencer’s tabs on him. Alex didn’t have this problem, and so was their go-to source of anything they weren’t privy to.
His partner scowled. “That is such an absurd idiom. Regardless, we are committed at this point. Roth still has our stolen data and the plans for Sheena Island directly affects our goals. You admitted it yourself.”
The cable car shook and screeched, sliding to a halt. The light above the door turned green, and the robotic female voice told them to watch their step and have a good day. No, he would certainly not have a good day! He was having to deal with this and was about to meet a big rat in a stinky sewer. Didn’t the stupid voice know that? How insensitive!
“Yeah, I know. Guess we better be careful how we handle this.”
Wesker and William exited the cable car and walked side by side through the sewer facility. There weren’t many workers, but they all gave them a wide berth, keeping their heads down.
Wesker chuckled to himself, but William heard it over the water pumps and machinery.
“What’s so funny?”
“Just acknowledging that your prolonged bout of paranoia has made us change places. I’m usually the one telling you we need to be careful.”
They were both ruthless and ambitious, but Wesker had more patience and control. And although his back-and-forth stints of paranoia did make him more cautious, Will still hadn’t developed the patience or control that his partner had always had.
If only you knew why...what he’s making me do…
William frowned, rubbing his shoulder and quickly cleared his throat. “Well, no wonder you're so optimistic lately, taking after me. Like a little ball of sunshine!"
His partner didn’t respond to that, and William hoped it wasn’t because he had caught his nervous tic. In case he did, he quickly changed the subject. “So, did you get the kind of reaction out of Ada you were expecting?”
“More or less. I’m still annoyed by how you handled it though.”
“Look, you asked me to bring Claire up in a way to get a reaction from Ada to see if your suspicions were right and I did just that! You’re welcome, by the way!”
They reached the monitor room where they were meeting with Chief Irons. William entered first, and the Chief immediately noticed him, an Umbrella mercenary on each side of him. His pudgy eyes squinted testily and he opened his mouth to start his usual complaining. That is, until Wesker entered right behind him. His mouth quickly snapped shut. Ah, the benefits of having Al around!
Irons glanced around the room, his usual air of arrogance belittled and squashed like a bug. But there was nowhere to run in this room, nothing to protect him. He was at their mercy, but the tough-as-nails Irons wouldn’t be one to break so easily.
He half-laughed, half-snorted, attempting to cover his discomfort. “Now this must be a special occasion if you're both here. Rumor has it when you two are together, someone's going to die...or wish they would."
"Well, funny thing about rumors, Brian," William smirked. "There’s always some truth to them."
It was fun seeing the color drain from his face only to completely flush red like a cherry. He glared their way, fists forming tightly at his sides. "Oh yeah? And how exactly am I on you two assholes' shit list today? Considering all I do is cover your goddamn tracks and provide you with security all hours of every fucking day. Wait, don't tell me, you two have a rehearsed good cop, bad cop routine just for me?" He laughed. "No thanks."
Will nudged Albert. "Damn it, he guessed it! Wait, am I bad cop this time? I forget?"
"I'm always bad cop."
"No fair! We should take turns!"
Irons rolled his eyes, crossing his arms. "Just get to the point of why I'm here. If we're negotiating new deals, it's a bad time. I'm a busy man, after all."
"Funny you should mention that, Chief," Wesker sneered. "We're done negotiating with you."
The Umbrella mercs pulled their guns on the Chief. Irons froze on the spot, eyes bulging and going to the trained weapons, and this time he turned a bit green.
“Listen, Albert...let’s not get too hasty. Let’s talk like gentlemen. I-I’m sure we can come to an agreement.”
His resolve was cracking slowly, but William wouldn’t count the bastard out just yet. Irons had grown complacent in his position, taking advantage of anything he could get his grubby hands on. William and Wesker had allowed much of this behavior to slide in the knowledge that Irons would eventually get himself into a bind. And that’s where he was now.
“Of course, Brian. I am a sophisticated man, after all. Take a seat.”
The Chief of Police looked relieved at that and pulled out a chair and sat down. The Umbrella mercenaries stood at his back, guns still aimed to the back of his head. William and Albert sat down across from him.
William slid a sealed yellow envelope across the table to Irons. “Open it and take a good, hard look, Brian.”
Irons wiped his mustache, a little sweat forming on his brow. He slowly opened the envelope and sifted through the contents. Each page he flipped through he grew a shade whiter, until he was pasty like a ghost.
“What the fuck is this?”
William leaned back in his chair, hands behind his head. “Oh, I don’t know. You tell us.”
Irons trembled in his chair, both from anger and fear. He flushed again, one fat fist crinkling a page and he quickly stood. “You fucking bastards!”
One merc’s gun barrel pressed into Irons’ skull and he quickly remembered his place. He slowly sat down. He sure was sweating a lot now!
“You put yourself in this situation, Brian,” Wesker stated. “You know I keep tabs on you and yet you got sloppy. Arrogant, too, thinking you’d be able to set me up.”
“Your sick fantasies with the mayor’s daughter will be released to the public. Your replacement has already been chosen. You will die,” William continued.
“No! No, please! We can come to an agreement!”
“There are no more agreements to come to, Brian,” Wesker growled. “Just two choices. You can die like William so eloquently stated or you can sell the remainder of your pathetic soul to our cause.”
And unsurprisingly, the Chief went with the option that kept his sorry ass alive. “Deal! You got it!”
“And just so we’re clear. That -” William motioned to the envelope. “- never goes away. This is your last chance. Next time...well...there won’t be a next time. Just you dead and your dirty secrets exposed for all to see. Never forget how replaceable you are, Brian.”
Irons slowly nodded, guarded. “And exactly what are you two going to want me to do for your “cause”?”
“You will still perform your normal duties for Umbrella, and only report to me,” Wesker explained. “But if William and I tell you to do something, you do it. Even if it goes against your orders from Umbrella.”
“Fine.”
“William will be taking over as your handler. You should thank him. It was my intention to kill you tonight and he convinced me otherwise. If he asks you to perform in the circus, I expect you to clap your flippers and balance that ball without any disinclination. Do I make myself clear?”
Irons ground his jaw and stiffly nodded. “You always do, Albert.”
William sat up a little straighter, a haughty grin spreading. Albert’s protectiveness of him always gave him a feeling of empowerment, feeding his ego, and made a darker part of himself more bold, more ambitious.
“Don’t worry, Brian,” Will said with a fake, friendly smile. “You do a good job and stay on my good side, I always pay really well, way more than Al does.” He added a postscript after seeing the Chief’s interested grin. “Get on my bad side, however, and you’ll be my newest experiment...just ask Lowery.”
The Police Chief’s relief was short-lived. The mention of Lowery’s name struck something in him. He scowled, stiffening once more, looking between the two partners in crime.
“So you two were behind what happened at the university?”
“Oh yes,” William bragged. “Which is partly how we found out about your little attempt to set up Albert.”
“Which brings us to our next order of business, Brian,” Albert added. “Who was with you when you met up with Aaron Roth?”
Irons shook his head, hands on the table, still aware of the guns at his back. “Look, Lowery and Bard paid me to keep their business dealings hush-hush. I think they were trying to coerce Mueller into selling key information on his project in exchange for getting some crucial research going down on some island.”
Will sighed. “Don’t make Al repeat himself, ya idiot.” He snapped his fingers. “His name? Who is he?”
“S-Some bigshot from Europe who works on this island. He’s partners with Roth, buying and selling research within Umbrella and other companies. Goes by Stefan Bennett, but I couldn’t tell you if that’s his real name or not.”
When Will glanced at Al, a subtle flex in his shoulder was all he needed to read him. Bennett wasn't anyone known to them.
"Where are they hiding out?"
Irons shrugged. "Don't know. I'm only being paid for their meetings. Bennett will be at Bard’s annual Christmas party. I don't know if Roth will be there. He acted like he had other plans."
Like selling my research, the bastard...
"Then I suppose a meeting with Nathaniel Bard is in order," Wesker announced, sunglasses glinting under the fluorescents as he looked to William with a dark grin.
William returned his partner's smirk. "Yeah...It's party time."
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(photo by IsmaelUchihaSan)
It was the perfect day for Jill to be off, or not have her shift until the evening anyway. Late morning, while Chris was stuck at the RPD, the girls enjoyed a light brunch and lattes at a quaint coffee shop before doing some last minute Christmas shopping.
Claire always enjoyed hanging out with the older woman. They had a lot in common and Claire was always learning something new with her company. She often found herself wondering if her oaf of a brother would ever romantically ask Jill out. It seemed like everyone could see it but them. Then again, perhaps they didn’t pursue their feelings because of their careers. Claire didn’t know the policies of STARS, but there might be restrictions there.
The two of them picked up Claire’s gift she had bought for Chris and took it over to Jill’s house. The box was tall and rectangular, about the size of a small adult. Though bulky, it wasn’t as heavy as it looked, and with each of them on one end, was able to carry it easily into the home.
They were greeted by Jill’s overly affectionate golden retriever, Bella. Claire flopped onto the floor to properly greet the fluffy, blond dog. Jill giggled at the sight.
“Hell of a guard dog, ain’t she?” Jill joked. “She’ll lick you to death.”
Better than getting my throat ripped out by Wesker’s dog…
Claire pushed aside that unpleasant memory and stood back up. Hard to believe that was only a few days ago. Her hand was already a lot better, but her ankle still hurt like a bitch.
They carried the box into Jill’s other bedroom that doubled as an office and home gym. The STARS Alpha member’s house was a three bedroom, two bath. She assumed the third bedroom was a guest room, but Claire wasn’t sure. Chris’s house was a bit bigger, with three bathrooms. They had their own in their bedrooms and then the guest bathroom in the hallway.
“Thanks for keeping this here for a bit, Jill.”
“No problem. I guess my home is the popular choice to hide gifts. Chris has yours here as well. I’m just waiting for Barry to ask to keep the girls’ gifts here, as if they don’t have enough space in that big house of theirs.”
“Well, you know how Moira is. She gets into everything. They can’t hide any gifts from her! She’s gonna be a handful as a teenager!”
They laughed and returned to the living room, Bella trailing behind them. Jill fetched them some water and the girls took a load off on the sofas.
“The punching bag was a good thought,” Jill declared. “I know Chris has been wanting one.”
Claire nodded, smiling as she watched Bella carry around her favorite plush duck toy. “Yeah. He’s been really wanting to start bulking up more. Although when we were playing on his guitar last night, I realized he needs a new toolkit for it. So I might have to go pick up one of those as well.”
“Oh yeah, I forgot you play too. Why haven’t I got to see you play yet? I’ve watched Chris lots of times.”
Claire shrugged. “I guess we just never think about it when I'm visiting.” The Redfield siblings didn’t mind playing guitar in front of others, but they cherished playing together, reciting notes and melodies their father had played for them when they were young. “Chris told me you played piano? I need to see that!”
Claire didn’t get the piano at all. That was entirely different from the guitar.
Jill softly laughed. “Yeah. It’s ingrained from childhood. Had the meanest instructor ever. Chris jokes that playing the piano won’t ever do me any good, and suggests I learn something else.”
“He’s just jealous,” Claire joked.
Jill laughed at that. “He totally is. You know, I’m happy you two reconciled so quickly. Chris can be so stubborn sometimes.”
“He can be, but I’m not one to talk. Whatever you said to him, it must’ve worked. So thank you for that. I know he’s just trying to look out for me, but it gets old. I’m an adult and can take care of myself.”
The older woman furrowed her brows and shook her head. “It wasn’t me.”
“Huh? It wasn’t?”
“No, it was the Captain.”
Her heart flipped, twisting her lungs to where she choked on air before she could take a drink of her water. It took all in Claire’s power to keep a straight face and feign something catching in her throat. “I’m sorry?”
“The fight you two had upset Chris a lot, affected his performance when we were doing some training. I guess Wesker picked up on it. Apparently, they took a long lunch together, and the Captain helped Chris get his head straight. At least, that’s what Chris told me later.”
Claire was completely freaked out by that information but hid it, wiping her suddenly clammy hands on her pants. She drank half of her water in one gulp and squeezed the bottle so hard it crumpled in the middle.
“O-Oh, I figured it was you.”
“Not this time,” Jill answered. “But it wasn’t without a lack of trying. He just didn’t listen. Not until he had gone too far anyway, the ass. At least Wesker got through to him.”
“Yeah…” she cleared her throat and stood up. “Well, I should get going. I don’t want to take up all of your free time and I have some studying to do. Thanks for helping me pick that up and letting me hide it here.”
It was partially true. Claire didn’t want to take up all of Jill’s day off before she had to go in for night shift. But mostly the recent news had unsettled her and she needed to gather her thoughts on the matter.
Jill smiled, nodding as she patted Bella on the head as the retriever’s big brown eyes stared up at Claire with that duck still in her mouth, tail thumping hard on the hardwood floor.
“No problem, Claire.”
“Stay safe tonight, Jill.”
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“You’re not on the schedule...again.”
Ada sighed, crossing her arms and looking at the guard like he was stupid. He was. “I know that. But that won’t matter. William will still see me.”
The guard shifted uncomfortably, studying her suspiciously and then glancing at his list again. “Dr. Birkin is an extremely busy man. He’s been doing important tests all day and asked me to not allow anyone but Mrs. Dr. Birkin and Dr. Wesker entry. I’m sorry, ma’am.”
“I’m here on behalf of Albert. He’s busy at the police department currently. Just give him a ring and you’ll see.”
The guard hesitated, thinking and unsure. Clearly, he was scared to disturb his boss in the middle of his important work.
Ada smiled flirtatiously at him. “C’mon, Johnny. Help a girl out? It’s important.” She winked.
Johnny sighed. “Oh, alright.” He put a hand to his headset. “Dr. Birkin? I’m sorry to bother you, but Ms. Wong insists on seeing you. She says she’s here on behalf of Dr. Wesker.”
The spy didn’t miss how the camera up in the corner of the hallway turned down their way, aiming the attached machine gun right on their faces, blinking red light a far deadlier version of Candid Camera.
“Yes, sir. I understand. Will do,” Johnny said into his headpiece. He nodded at Ada and stepped aside. “You may enter. But please, keep it short. He has much to do.”
Ada waved him off. “Thanks, Johnny.”
She went through the automatic door, was sprayed down again, and strolled through the large, multi-room laboratory. She turned a corner, saw bright yellow and outstretched arms, and, on reflex, kicked the thing away from her.
“Ow!” came a muffled voice.
“Will, you idiot. Don’t sneak up on me like that,” Ada snapped.
The mad scientist pulled the hazmat suit’s helmet off, waddling over to the nearby safety station to strip it off and hang it up.
“I think that’s the closest I’ve ever gotten to scaring you!” William laughed.
Ada crossed her arms, glaring at him. “You didn’t scare me. You didn’t even startle me. You mildly annoyed me.”
“Ugh, you sound like Al. One day I will scare him. It’s on my bucket list. It might get me killed, but imma do it!”
The spy shook her head. “I don’t know about you sometimes.”
Birkin seemed extra...quirky today. He had an extra bounce in his step, grinning, humming as he left the safety station to his main desk. That’s when Ada noticed numerous empty energy drink cans and half a cup of cold, forgotten black coffee.
“How many of these have you had?” He did kind of look like one of those zombies Ada had seen being dissected in the Arklay lab, pale skin and dark circles under his eyes.
“Uhh…” he pondered, counting on his fingers as he twitched and quivered restlessly. “Five? I think?” He flopped down in his chair, shifting it side to side.
Ada leaned against his desk, glancing at the disorganized paperwork strewn about. Her sharp eyes caught many interesting and familiar things: G-Virus, Plant 43, Hunter Beta, Cerberus, NE-Alpha parasite, Lisa Trevor, T-Virus Epsilon. Then her eyes caught the interesting things that she had only seen once and was curious to find out more, now with associated words that intrigued her further: Prototype Virus, Project W, eugenics research, Progenitor, Ndipaya.
She had only a few seconds of absorbing these words before William snatched up the two papers that had anything on it. She watched him open his safe and put them inside, only accessible with a scan of his hand.
Ada acted like none of it interested her. “Five, huh? And how long have you been up, exactly? You look like shit. You smell like shit.”
William lifted his shirt and smelled. “I don’t know, when did Al and I go talk with Irons?"
“That was yesterday morning.”
“Oh...shit. Well, it’s been over 24 hours then.”
“I can tell.”
“So, how’d it go with Mueller?”
“As well as you’d expect. I’ve already relayed the info to Albert. Mueller won’t be a problem. In fact, he’s willing to help if it gets rid of Roth. I guess he feels scammed by the trade.”
William smirked, still swiveling slightly side to side in his chair. “I bet he does. Well, with Lowery no longer having a tongue and Irons and Bard put in their places, looks like we might be able to wrap this up by Christmas!”
Ada rapped her nails on the desk, frowning. “Albert told me the plan. Look, between you and me, I gotta ask...what’s the deal with him and Claire?”
Will chuckled. “What’s wrong? You jealous?”
“In your dreams. It’s just that...I mean, I don’t know the girl,” she lied. “But I thought he was just using her to get to Roth. Why have a fling with her? He doesn’t do that...at least not with just anyone.”
“You sure are a curious little kitty,” William half-joked, half-warned, leaning back in his chair. “What are you hoping to use this knowledge for?”
Ugh, she hated when he was an asshole. Then again, he was protecting Albert and so she should’ve known better. The spy sighed. “Fine. I’m just a little worried about Claire, alright? Can you blame me?”
She knew how Wesker worked. Claire was in way over her head. Didn’t matter how smart and strong she was. Despite being his type, she was still different than most and he did seem to have some kind of soft spot for her. And that is what both bothered and intrigued Ada.
“It’s not like you to worry about others like that. And I can blame you, actually. You got yourself tangled with Al. That’s on you.”
Ada bit her tongue. This wasn’t about her. “And poor Claire got tangled out of her control. C’mon, Will. I’ve helped you two a lot recently. Throw me a bone here. I deserve something in return.”
Will kept a straight face, thinking it over. Ada glared at him. Finally, the Golgotha creator grinned widely and leaned forward. Ada recognized the child-like delight, and knew he was about to spill the beans.
“Alright, alright! I think he has feelings for her.”
Ada laughed skeptically. “Whatever, Will! Tell me for real.”
She had to admit, she had thought something similar a few days ago when she spied Wesker nearly pinning Claire against his car. But she soon dismissed it. He definitely liked her and was attracted to her…but had feelings for her?! That was a little hard to believe.
“I do! He is obsessed, I’m telling you. The girl would’ve been dead a long time now had it been anyone else. He’s given her more chances than I’ve ever seen. He had the chance to pop her brother in the back without anyone knowing and didn’t do it! I don’t think he knows it himself, or he purposely keeps himself in denial, but...there’s something about her.”
Ada frowned, thinking it over. William had a point. All of Claire’s stunts to try and fight Albert should have ended with her dead a long time ago. And how her brother had been getting suspicious and snooping around, well, it should have ended the same with him by now.
“You think she reminds him of Anezka?” Ada asked.
Was that her name? Ada couldn’t really remember. She wasn’t around back then and had only heard all the different stories when she came here a couple of years ago.
“Nah...I mean they’re both redheads and feisty, but I don’t think that’s it. Anna jilted him, and besides being a little touchy over it, he’s moved on.”
“Is that really what happened?”
William shrugged. “I guess? No one really knows...not even Al.”
Ada wished she had been a fly on that wall when Anezka was still around. So many rumors and gossip about what happened. She practically disappeared, as though she was only a dream. But Albert remembered...resentfully. Ada knew him well enough that it wasn’t just his ego that got hurt. He actually had cared for her, and he hated that he did.
“Well, Albert’s given Claire all these chances to let her live. You think he will let her go when Roth is dealt with, as he has promised her?”
William scowled, leaning back in his chair. “What do you think?”
The double agent had no idea why, but her heart sank a little. As if she was hoping for something she knew better of. And here she thought her line of work had snuffed out all remaining optimism in her life.
“He won’t kill her. I guarantee it,” William boasted. “As obsessed and possessive he already is of her, she’s stuck. There will be conditions he gives her. I’m sure you know what those would be.”
“You sound happy about that,” Ada pointed out.
He shrugged, but the slight upcurve of his lips gave him away. “I like the girl. Sherry adores her. She’s proven to be quite resourceful and clever. She’ll be handy to have around. Besides, if Al actually has feelings for her, I gotta see where it goes! The geneticist in me really hopes he knocks her up.”
It may have sounded like a dark joke, but Ada knew the lunatic genius was dead serious. “I’m really disturbed by how obsessed you are with your best friend’s love and sex life.”
“I’m just looking out for him!”
Ada would never understand Wesker and William’s relationship. One of life’s greatest mysteries. But what was also another mystery still was why Wesker had feelings for Claire.
Was she the next Anezka?
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She parked right down the road. It was already nearly dark, but at least the temperature hadn’t dropped too much. Claire stuck to the recently salted sidewalks, hands stuffed in her parka. Her heart pounded in her throat, and her mind raced with what he could want this time.
Wesker called her while she was waiting for Chris to get off work, summoning her to his house for an “important discussion”. She was anxious for two reasons. One, the last time she saw Wesker just a couple nights ago, they had sex. And two, after learning from Jill that Wesker was the one who dealt with Chris, she wasn’t sure what that meant for her or her brother.
She was queasy, butterflies in her stomach, but she wasn’t about to lose her cool. More than anything, she feared her body would betray her once more, a dark excitement coursing through her blood.
Upon reaching Wesker’s house, Claire spotted a vehicle she didn’t recognize in his driveway. She didn’t get too close to it, but it looked like a ruby-colored Porsche Boxster. She didn’t know whether to be relieved or not about not being alone with the STARS Captain, but she took a deep breath and rang the doorbell anyway.
After a minute of silence, anticipation eating at her, the door opened. Her heart skipped when those familiar grey-blue eyes and dark smirk greeted her. Her stomach twisted, but Claire couldn’t tell whether it was from disgust or excitement.
“Good evening, Claire,” he purred. He stepped aside to allow her entry. “Please do come in. I don’t want you catching a cold.”
She rolled her eyes and stepped inside. “Thanks.”
He shut the door while she looked around. Odin padded over and sniffed her, docked tail wagging slightly. But she didn’t see anyone who could’ve owned the car outside.
Wesker’s hands brushed up her back. The bad thing was Claire realized she didn’t blench this time. No, this time she shivered in pleasure. She inwardly scolded herself as he took her coat off to hang by the door.
“We have much to discuss, dear heart,” he said, one muscular arm locking around her waist and pulling her deeper inside the house.
That’s when the younger Redfield saw a familiar face come into the living room from the kitchen, carrying a full glass of red wine. She nearly blurted Ada’s name, surprised, but quickly bit her tongue, hiding any reaction. Wesker didn’t know that she and Ada had already met personally. And it needed to stay that way.
“I sure hope you weren’t saving that malbec wine for a special occasion, Albert. I helped myself,” Ada said. When her eyes landed on Claire, she was the perfect actress. There was no recognition, no subtle signs given to Claire. “Is this her?”
“The one and only,” Wesker affirmed.
Ada took a long sip of her wine and sat it down on a coaster on the center table before walking over to them. Wesker stepped away while the double agent looked Claire over, one arm crossed and one hand on her chin as she thought. She walked around Claire and even grabbed her arms and lifted them and spun her around.
“Hmm...Yes, I can definitely work with this.”
“What the hell does that mean?” Claire grumbled. Ada spun her around again and grabbed at her hair. “Hey! What’s the big idea?!”
“Hold still, hun.”
Ada withdrew a tailor tape measurer. She measured Claire’s waist, chest, and height, even her arms and legs. Afterwards, she yanked Claire’s ponytail out and felt through her tresses.
“What are you doing?” Claire snapped.
“Taking measurements,” Ada replied. “Trying to figure out what to do with your hair.”
“Why?”
“I’ll explain later,” Wesker stated. His Doberman sat at his side, head cocked curiously as Ada got handsy with her measurements.
“Okay, finished,” Ada announced, rolling up her tape and putting it in her pocket. She retrieved her wine and took another drink. “I’ll have something ready by tomorrow.”
“What ready?” Claire demanded. “What’s going on?”
Wesker’s lips barely curled upward. “Oh, where are my manners? Claire, this is an associate of mine, Ada Wong. She originally was to pick you up at the university. Ada, you know Claire, I’ve told you all about her.”
The Eurasian beauty dipped her head. “Charmed.” Still completely in character, although Claire now saw something subtle in her eyes as she stared at Claire. Perhaps a warning? Or just acknowledgement?
“You too...I guess,” Claire said.
Wesker chuckled, catching their attention. “You do not have to pretend to be strangers on my account, ladies. I know you’re well acquainted.”
Claire ground her jaw, glaring at him. Ada didn’t even flinch, expressionless. Taking another sip of her wine, she shrugged.
“Can’t pull the wool over your eyes, can I Albert?”
“Oh come now, Ada, don’t be that way,” Wesker teased. He obviously sensed something from her that Claire didn’t. He stepped around the agent’s back and, besides her tensing barely, she didn’t look disconcerted. “You knew the risks when you decided to meet Claire behind my back.”
Ada didn’t say anything to that. Wesker’s dark grin grew a bit more.
“I’m quite curious of your intentions. You’re not the jealous type. And you’re not one to have concern for others. So why so curious about Claire? I know this has nothing to do with what Sergei asked of you.”
Jealous type? Claire glanced between them, not sure what kind of undertones she was reading here. She was missing something, that’s for sure. She could only infer that Wesker was gauging Ada for something.
“I was just curious what you saw in her, I guess,” Ada dismissed calmly.
Cool under pressure. Just like the man testing her.
“And did you figure it out?”
Ada’s eyes locked with Claire’s. “I think so.”
Wesker’s soft chuckle told them he didn’t believe her one bit. “You and William should give up trying to find something that isn’t there.”
Ada didn’t have to say anything. Her smile told it all. She was pleased somehow, as though she read deeper into Wesker’s words somehow. Claire wished she would tell her the secret. And also shake this weird feeling in her chest.
“Am I going to get filled in here on why she needed to take my measurements?” Claire grumbled.
“Yes, my apologies,” Wesker admitted, his full attention on her now, and the younger woman regretted saying anything. “Ada, you may go now. I’ll fill Claire in…” He smirked.
Oh god. Did he just…? Her stomach pitched and rolled. She knew what would happen once Ada left them alone. In his house. It was an instant body verses mind battle.
Ada shrugged and walked away. Claire never wanted someone to stay and leave all at once before. But the Eurasian woman plopped down on one of the leather sofas instead, resuming drinking her wine. Odin left his master’s side to plant himself in front of her, as if expecting Ada to give him attention now that she was sitting down. Claire released a breath she didn’t know she was holding.
Wesker scowled. “Or…make yourself at home.”
“I will,” Ada answered nonchalantly. “I’m not about to let this delicious wine go to waste.” She made a show of swishing the red liquid around in her glass. The wine complimented her burgundy fingernails.
Claire caught the agent’s honey brown eyes as she looked right at her while sipping from her lipstick-stained glass, a coded message for her. You’re welcome…
Claire swallowed mixed feelings and glared at the STARS Captain. “So what exactly are you making me do this time?”
“Relax dear heart, it’s nothing you’re a stranger to. We’re going to attend a party.”
His stereotypical college girl jab aside, it sounded easy enough. But Claire knew better. Whatever kind of party it was, with Wesker involved, there would be danger, deception, and death at every angle…
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Claire stared at the mirror, stunned. She wasn’t one to get dressed up, not this fancy anyway. Her red-brown hair was pulled up into messy curls with a few tresses hanging around her face. She had more make-up on than what she was used to. The jade-colored halter dress complimented her hair, eyes, and heels. She was only in the shoes for less than half an hour and her feet were already cramping. How did women wear these things all day?
The two assistants Ada had helping her with Claire were finally finished and departed from the big, spotless, and up-to-date bathroom. They were in Wesker’s living quarters in NEST. The younger Redfield tried not to think about what happened the last time she was here. Wesker and William awaited them in the very same room where she and Wesker fornicated, only having arrived a bit ago while Claire was still being made over.
Ada looked her over one last time, one final judgment for approval. Claire didn’t say anything. She really wanted out of this bathroom, but at the same time, she wasn’t ready for the next step.
Apparently, the crooked STARS Captain had meticulously planned tonight. Chris and Jill were working graveyard shifts while he was off and Claire had to tell her brother that she might would have to stay the night at William’s house babysitting Sherry if her parents had to work all night. All the chess pieces were in place so far. Bard’s Christmas party would last well into the night, and depending on how it played out, they might be there awhile. She could only hope nothing went wrong and would get to return home tonight.
“You’re a beautiful woman, Claire. There’s no doubt about that,” Ada said finally.
“T-Thanks.” She wasn’t expecting a compliment from the older woman.
She looked in the mirror again, distracted. This was a little too much for her, but she had to blend in with the other guests at the party.
“I won’t be surprised if Albert takes you home with him tonight after the party.”
Claire blushed, taken off guard, a near panic in her chest only broken by blood rushing like electricity through her veins. She turned to the double agent, holding her breath. Ada sounded so sure as she looked Claire over. As if she knew something the younger Redfield didn’t. Surely, Ada didn’t know…
“I know what happened between you two,” Ada admitted, reading her mind.
“He,” Claire started to blame her captor, but stopped. Could she honestly say it knowing she had decided to do it? Wesker may have manipulated her into wanting to, but she still chose it all her own, no matter how much she wanted to deny it.
“He what?”
She shook her head. “…Nothing.”
“I told you he always gets what he wants, didn’t I? He’ll make you want it, too. That tongue of his is far more deadly than any weapon he has on him. You have no idea how way in over your head you are, Claire.”
The college student glared at the Eurasian beauty. Was she serious right now?! “You’ve got it all wrong! It was just a one time fling. And as far as the rest of my situation goes, I think I’ve been doing pretty damn good considering!”
Ada sighed. “You’re clever, strong, and resourceful. You’ve handled yourself impressively this past week, but that’s partly why Albert’s so infatuated with you.”
Claire frowned, not sure what to say to that.
“Albert’s hardwired to manipulate and take advantage of anyone and anything he can. You give him an inch and he’ll hook his claws so deep in you, there’s no escape. You gave him way more than that.”
“So what? I’m trapped forever now? Is that what you’re saying?” Dread seized in her chest.
Ada looked to the door, as if suddenly paranoid Wesker and William could be listening in and slightly lowered her voice. “I don’t know. Look…yes, he’s using you to take care of Roth in exchange for your freedom, but William and I suspect that Albert may have developed…”
“What?” Claire urged when the agent trailed off.
Ada quickly shook her head, frowning. “Never mind. Just…keep your head. Do what you must to get Roth where Albert wants him for you and your brother’s freedom. Albert’s got a soft spot for you, he’ll likely keep his word if you’re good. As far as this affair is concerned, I cannot help you. That’s your business. My only advice is that you be careful.”
Soft spot? Where the hell was she getting that? There was nothing soft about that man. Then again, she and William, two people who knew Wesker best, kept saying that, so it had to be true to some degree.
Claire wanted to tell Ada that there wasn’t an “affair”. It was a one time slip up, a mistake, it wouldn’t happen ever again. But she couldn’t even believe herself, so there was no way she would convince the double agent.
“Ok…thank you, Ada. For everything.”
Ada exhaled through a small frown. “Don’t thank me just yet…” She turned, walking for the door and motioning for the younger Redfield to follow her. “C’mon, we have a party to get to.”
Claire inhaled deeply, gathering herself, and followed her out of the bathroom. They came into the den, where Wesker and William sat across from each other on the leather sofas talking. They were dressed in posh black suits. Claire berated herself for goggling Wesker. The bastard was so damn attractive anyway, but that suit was hot! She couldn’t believe how much it actually affected her seeing him in that outfit.
The men noticed them and stood up, but their eyes immediately went to Claire. She suddently felt exposed. William’s jaw dropped and he ogled too. The smirk that slowly grew on Wesker’s face as he took off his sunglasses to look Claire over was wicked. More so, it was hungry. He popped William’s mouth shut without taking his eyes off of Claire and closed in like a predator about to sink its teeth into its coveted prey. His eyes entrapped her, an instant, breath-taking spell, and then she was hungry too, felt it spreading through every inch of her body like wildfire.
Ada was right…Wesker would be taking her home with him tonight. And nothing was going to stop him.
12 notes · View notes
no-heart-no-soul-t · 4 years
Text
Tattooed JaeHyun imagine
Idk got bored again sorry ^^
pairing: NCT tattooed!JaeHyun x Reader
genre: fluff? small angst?
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You were living with your friend in small apartment building, it was pretty old, but the apartments themselves were modernized. You and your roommate were the only ones on the floor, which was the highest and had only two apartments, because the two left were made in to a storages. “Y/N, I think we will have a new neighbors,” said Sasha. Sasha was from Russia with beautiful blue eyes and long brown hair and blonde ombré to it. “Huh, you mean someone finally rented that apartment next to us and is actually moving in?,” you asked not believing her. You didn’t really believe her because, everytime your landlord said, that the apartment next door is getting rented, they backed away last second, leaving the apartment free for over a year now. “Yes, Mr. Suh said that his grandson with his friend are moving in.. they are coming over from California to start anew or something,” she answered while putting away groceries. You just shrugged and helped her with preparing dinner.
Next morning you were woken up by banging noises from next door. “The FOK they doing in there!,” you yelled not happy with the noises in the morning. You came out of your room, finding Sasha casually drinking coffee, already dressed for uni. “Good morning to you too, sunshine,” she said to you with sweet smile, knowing you were pissed off. You scoffed at her and started eating breakfast she made for you. You went to get ready still mumbling curses to no one in particular.
Both of you made it in time to the uni and sat on your favourite spot. It was at the very back of the room no one sitting there, because no one liked that you couldn’t hear well. But you and Sasha preferred it exactly for that, you were alone in the row. Taking notes only from presentations tho. Lecture was starting soon, and two guys bursted in sprinting to the back sitting next to you and Sasha. You and Sasha looked at them confused, never seeing them before and not understanding why they were in such a rush. Then the professor came in taking all your and Sasha’s attention from the boys. An hour in to the lecture one of the boys, leaned in to Sasha and whispered something to her. You assumed to ask for notes from last lecture... aaaaand you were right because she handed him her notebook with notes. You heard deep thank you and just shook your head paying attention back to the lecture. 
Finally the lecture ended, so you were packing up. “Hey, thanks for the notes. We will give them back to you tomorrow,” you heard and looked up, seeing the taller boy talking to Sasha. Finally looked at his friend who had a tattoo on his neck. You stared at it a little bit, admiring the work and then looking away when you heard Sasha, “No it’s okay, you can take your time going through them. I am Sasha Glukhovska and this is Y/N Y/L/N,” and you just waved slightly. He smiled at you nodding his head, “I am Johnny Suh and this is Jaehyun Jung.” Suh? like your landlord Suh? , you thought then it hit you, “Oh, aren’t you the grandson of Mr. Suh owning the old apartment building with modernized apartments?,” you asked making Sasha realize the same thing. “Yeah, I am.. do you also live there?,” “Yeah... we will be next door neighbors it seems,” Sasha answered with small chuckle. You looked at Jaehyun for his reaction but he just had a poker face on his face. But his eyes were boring deep in to yours, as if searching for your soul to steal. “Wow, perfect, let’s see you around then, bye,” Johnny said with small smile walking away together with Jaehyun. “Who would have thought we would meet our neighbors at school,” Sasha chuckled while also walking away you behind her, her Russian accent present.
It was 7PM when you got home, Sasha dragging you to the shopping mall after lectures ended. You were tired as hell going straight to take a shower. “What should we get for dinner,” Sasha screamed at you through the bathroom door, “I don’t know. Order anything,” you yelled back while drying off and putting clothes on. When you got out Sasha went in, which meant you will be taking order. Twenty minutes of you chilling on the sofa reading a book, you heard a bell ringing, thinking it was food you stood up and went to the door. When you opened it you weren’t met with the delivery man, no. You were met with tattooed neck, chest and dark eyes. You looked at Jaehyun confused. “Hey, you need somethin’?,” you asked confusion strongly present in your voice. “Hey... uh... I came to ask for notes from classic literature.. I need them so I know what’s going on in that lecture..,” he said with his deep husky voice. “Oh, sure. But, y’kno... you could wear a shirt while coming here for notes,” you answered, laughing hard and turning around to get his notes, not seeing his reaction. ‘And you could wear sweats not the shortest shorts there are,’ he thought looking at your ass. You got back with the notes handing them over to him. “Thanks, baby girl,” he thanked you with a wink and went to his apartment. “Weirdo,” you said going back inside when the delivery man came with your take-out.
You were always meeting Johnny and Jaehyun at lectures, at the hall of your building or generally when going over to them to ask for something. Sasha and Johnny eventually got together. You found them cute together. And you started to have feelings for Jaehyun, which you tried to suppress, because you knew you weren’t his type. So you were just playing around, being his good friend he could rely on. But. Tonight. You wanted to kill them, tho. You get it, Friday, so party. But. You and Sasha told them repeatedly, to not host party this Friday, because both of you had to wake up early on Saturday to go on a train to visit Sasha’s parents. You were going to have BBQ party and you wanted to be in a good mood, which meant nice sleep. You were tossing around, trying to muffle all the noise from nextdoor. You’ve had enough, and went over to their place, after putting at least shorts on. When you went in, you automatically saw Jaehyun on the sofa with some girl on top of him, making out. You felt somehow sad and jealous when you saw them. But you shook your head, getting rid of the image, and went over to them tapping him on the shoulder softly and saying his name. He broke the kiss with girl, his eyes going wide upon seeing you standing there. “Y/N, what are you doing here?,” he said standing up leaving the girl on the sofa. She looked at you all annoyed and walked away. “Hey... I just.. I..- can’t you at least make less noise and put volume down on the music? We told you that we needed to get up early tomorrow for over three days...,” you said in soft, somehow, broken voice, not looking in to his eyes. “Shit. We thought you were going next week.. sorry, yeah I’ll find Johnny and send everyone home,” he tried to give you a small apologetic hug but you backed away only nodding your head, saying small thanks and walking away. When you got back in, tears started streaming down your face. You didn’t realize it, until Sasha came out of her room, also pissed off by the noise. But that anger went away the second she saw you silently crying. “Hey, angel, what’s wrong?,” she asked, rushing to hug you, “huh??,” you looked at her confused, “Why are you crying hm? What happened?” You didn’t answer, only crying harder in to her neck. You fell asleep in her bed, cuddling her. Sasha was still awake, thinking of what could’ve happened... and decided to text Johnny, if something happened to her when she went over to ask them to turn down the noise,
Saaasssha<3: hey, john what happened to y/n
JohnnyS<3: hm wdym
Saaasssha<3: she was crying till she fell asleep
Saaasssha<3: so i thought somehin happened to her while she was over
JohnnyS<3: idk... ill ask jae
Sasha put her phone away for a second and cuddled your body more to her side, waiting for a response. After five minutes of waiting her phone vibrated with new message,
JohnnyS<3: so.. y/n found jae making out w cindy...
Saaasssha<3: i thought they broke up? th
JohnnyS<3: yeah apparently she forced herself on him righ be4 y/n came
Saaasssha<3: and i guess he didnt explain
JohnnyS<3: no... and he was ready to confess to her his feelings when u come back from trip
Sasha just sighed, texting back a goodnight and cuddled to you, eventually too falling asleep.
The next day, you woke up after Sasha, who was in kitchen making a breakfast. “Mornin’,” you said with sleepy voice, sitting down. “Hey, uhm… Johnny and Jae are coming with us… my mom wants to meet Johnny and he doesn’t want to leave Jae alone for three days... ,” “Oh… okay… I mean it’s not like I have a saying in this..,” you answered, taking sip of your tea. After breakfast you went out to Johnny’s car, he said he will drive there so you don’t have to wake up early for a train. “Can I sit in the front? I feel sick in the back of car,” you asked with small voice, looking down and playing with hands. “Sure. Hope my girlfriend won’t be jealous,” Johnny joked, winking at Sasha while opening the door for you. “Pft, you know I don’t care that the two of you are close, but don’t cheat on me,” Sasha said and sit at the back next to Jae. The car ride was full of Johnny getting directions from Sasha, Jae singing to the radio and you being quiet, looking out the window. 
When you came to the house, Sasha’s parents were already waiting for you in the front, like always. You just said short greetings to them and went ahead inside, leaving them confused. “What happened?,” asked Sasha’s mom all concerned. “Something with one boy who didn’t say anything when she caught him kissing another girl,” Sasha answered looking at Jae, who just looked down, already having an earful from Sasha this morning, when you were still asleep.
Evening came and everyone was sitting at the backyard having fun, eating bbq. You were sitting in a far corner alone, smiling to yourself at the jokes Johnny and Sasha’s father were making. Sasha came to you, hugging you, “You okay? want to take a walk with me?,” she asked patting your thigh. “I could take a walk… but alone… I’ll be back in an hour,” you answered getting up and just saying to everyone you will be back later. When you were going down the street you heard someone running, so you turned around expecting Sasha trying to catch up with you. But it wasn’t Sasha.. it was Jaehyun. “Hey… let’s.. walk together,” he said taking your hand in his. You didn’t take your hand away, enjoying some warmth in this chilly night. While walking you stumbled against a playground with swings. You went ahead and sit on one of them, Jaehyun sitting on the other next to you. After ten minutes of just silence, you softly swinging back and forth, Jaehyun pulled your swing to him and looked in to your eyes. “Listen, Y/N, nothing happened between me and Cindy. She got on top of me right before you came in, and I thought you saw how we were arguing before that… I am sorry for making you cry,” Jaehyun said looking apologetic and having the softest look in his eyes. You looked at him confused because only Sasha knew you were crying yesterday. Then it hit you that she had to confront him, she was that type of friend. Someone made you cry, she would instantly go and literally smack them. “I mean… it’s not like you have to clarify yourself,” you said looking away. 
“No, I have to, because I have something to tell you,” he said taking your chin in his hand turning your head to back to him. “I love you Y/N. I really do, you are making me happy and making me soft. And you know how cold I was when we first met,” leaning in and looking at your lips, “I fell in love with you, baby girl, and I wonder how you didn’t see that when literally everyone saw that and teased me about it,” he chuckled. You were looking at him, all shocked hearing something like this from him, “But.. I am not your type.. and…,” you tried to look away but he still held your chin, “And what?,” he cocked eyebrow waiting for your response. “Amanda said you told your friends that I am clingy and annoying, so I thought you hated me…,” you finished looking at his nose, refusing to look in to his eyes. “Tch, that bitch. I should tell Sasha to smack her,” he answered looking to a distance for a second, then back at you. “I do love you, baby girl. And, I will make you mine,” he said with deep voice, leaning in and finally kissing you, softly. When you broke the kiss you looked at eachother, him stroking your cheek lovingly. “I...I love you too Jae. Loved you for a long time, actually.,” you said softly looking in to his eyes which were full of love only for you. 
You got up and went back to the house holding hands. You were going back to the backyard when Jaehyun pulled you back and dragged you up the stairs to your room where you were sleeping in alone. When Jaehyun closed the door you looked at him confused, “Why? They are still outside waiting for us,” you said trying to open the door, and he back hugged you tightly, whispering in your ear, “Mmmm, but I want to play with you alone baby girl,” kissing the underside of your ear. Your face flushed pink and he turned you around, smirking at your expression. He took his shirt off showing his tattooed torso and abs, “Now, now, don’t be shy, I will be careful… but only at first tho, then I won’t hold back, love,” he said while picking you up and making you hug him with legs. He put you on bed and kissed you softly.
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scmsdivinecultists · 3 years
Text
If My Parents Were Gods... (Part 2)
Yeah we’re gonna keep this shit going.
Written by Admin Karebear
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Kerry’s squeals echoed across Krioff’s room as the toddler, for the millionth time, got into something she wasn’t supposed to.
“Damn it, kid, get back here.” Krioff scowled, making a move to grab the toddler.
Thinking it was a game, Kerry squealed again and ran awkwardly away from him. Unable to take anymore, Krioff groaned and snapped his fingers. At his snap, Kerry slowly lifted from the ground and moved through the air until she landed in the god’s arms. She was splattered with ink from the feather she stole off his desk.
“Look at the mess you made.” Krioff said, carefully taking the feather from her fingers.
He set the feather down and snapped again, this time cleaning her instantly and replacing her clothes.
“Dadda!” Kerry exclaimed, tapping the god’s arm. “Play!”
“I don’t have time to play with you, kid. I gotta work.” Krioff replied, though the toddler understood none of it.
“Play!”
Krioff sighed and adjusted her so she was on his hip. “That’s it. You’re going to Karno.”
Swinging his door open, Krioff made haste to the Department of Wishes. It didn’t take him long to find Karno; he was in the hallway discussing something with a lower ranking god who worked in the palace.
Karno, upon noticing his parenting partner, halted the conversation. “Krioff? What is it?”
“You gotta take her.” The silver haired god demanded. “I can’t get anything done.”
“Now’s not the best time for me to have her...” Karno admitted, averting his eyes. “Leo and I have a meeting with Zyglavis and Scorpio, and with Christmas coming up our work has doubled. Can you ask your parents to take her for a while?”
“Are you outta your mind?” Krioff asked, silver eyes narrowing. “I’m not leaving her unsupervised with my father.”
“Melunia is doing better now, isn’t she? I’m sure she’d love to have a visit with her granddaughter.”
On one hand, Karno was right; it was highly unlikely that Aiess would attempt anything in his sickly wife’s presence. However, Krioff knew his father better then Karno-better then anyone in Wishes and Punishments did.
“I’ll bring her for a visit another day.” Krioff said, his tone making it clear that he wasn’t going to argue this further. “But I’m not leaving her there on her own.”
Karno sighed and, seeing no other way to get around this, agreed. “Alright. Give her to me.”
Kerry reached her little arms out for Karno as she transferred arms. “Dadda!”
Karno chuckled and kissed her cheek. “Hi, sweet pea.”
Now knowing that the toddler was with someone trustworthy, Krioff left to continue his work. It was almost time for the meeting, so Karno turned and walked further down the hall with Kerry balanced in his right arm.
“Were you causing trouble for your other dad?” Karno asked, his tone light and playful as he addressed his daughter.
“Play!” Kerry exclaimed loudly, her high-pitched voice echoing off the palace walls.
Karno flinched at her volume and lifted his left hand to tuck a lock of short, berry purple hair behind her ear. “Inside voice, Kerry.”
The toddler placed her index finger against her lips. “Shhh.”
The god chuckled. “That’s right. Shhh.”
It wasn’t long before Karno made it to the parlor where the meeting would take place. The other three gods were already inside. Scorpio looked angry, Zyglavis’ had the expression of an unamused man, and Leon was lounging on the couch with a smug face. It was obvious that they had been bickering.
“I apologize for the delay.” Karno said as he entered the room.
Leon looked at his vice minister, his smug expression turning into a scowl when he noticed the child. “No.”
Scorpio clicked his tongue. “You brought that brat to a meeting?!”
Kerry looked at Scorpio and placed a finger to her lips. “Shhh!”
“Excuse me?!”
Leon smirked. “Oh-ho. Perhaps the brat should stick around after all.”
“She’s just trying to tell you to use your inside voice, Scorpio.” Karno said, trying to defuse the situation. He readjusted his hold on the toddler. “She was with Krioff, but he needed me to take her for a bit.”
“I understand that you are her other parent, but this is hardly professional.” Zyglavis spoke up. “Can’t you leave her in the hands of another Wishes god?”
“Wishes has enough work to do as it is.” Leon shut that idea down. “Seems like Punishments has too much time on their hands. If your problem child can run around pulling pranks, surely he can entertain a kid.”
“Isn’t babysitting what grandparents are for?” Scorpio asked, completely ignoring Leon’s comment.
Karno sighed. “Krioff doesn’t trust his father with her.”
“I understand that the relationship between Krioff and his father is a difficult one, however, for the sake of the child it would be wise not to let their personal matters affect her.” Zyglavis said.
Knowing he was right, Karno sighed again. “Alright. I’ll go drop her off.”
“Do be quick. We have a meeting to get underway.”
~~~
“I apologize for such short notice.” Karno said, avoiding the goddess’ eyes in guilt.
Melunia smiled and waved her hand. “There’s no need for an apology, Karno. I’m always happy to have my granddaughter over. It’s a shame that Krioff is so busy; it would have been nice to see him, if only for a few minutes.”
Karno didn’t have the heart to tell Melunia the real reason Krioff wasn’t here was because of his father. Krioff wasn’t aware that Karno was doing this, so the god of cancer could only hope he could be able to pick the toddler up before his co-parent finished with work.
Kerry reached out for Melunia and Karno handed her over. “I should make my way back to the Department now. If she becomes too much to handle, please send word and I’ll come back to get her.”
“I appreciate it, but I’ve got the experience. We’ll be just fine.” Melunia said, turning her eyes to the toddler. “Say goodbye, Kerry.”
Kerry waved her little hand. “Bye-bye!”
When Karno was out of sight, Melunia closed the door to the mansion she shared with her husband. Bouncing and cooing the toddler as she walked, Melunia carried Kerry all the way to the common room, where her husband of many years was re-reading old scripture.
“Aiess, dear, our granddaughter has come for a visit.” Melunia said, her voice light and cheerful.
Aiess looked up, silver eyes settling on the tiny being. “Krioff was here?”
The woman shook her head. “No, it was Karno. Our son hasn’t been able to get away from work.”
The man hummed and turned back to the book. “I understand that Krioff is taking part in raising her, but she isn’t truly our granddaughter, dear. She shares no blood relation.”
“Oh come, Aiess.” Melunia said, tickling the little girl’s belly to make her laugh. “By blood or not, Krioff accepts her as his own.”
Aiess could hardly agree. Although he and his son weren’t on the best of terms, he had enough ears in the palace to know that it was the King of the Heavens that bestowed the child upon his son, and without his permission for that matter. This child was simply a task set forth from the King and nothing more. He couldn’t bring myself to voice those thoughts out loud, not when his wife, who had been so sickly until recently, was finally back to her healthy state.
In fact, her health started to return when Krioff brought news of the child. Now, it seemed as if Melunia lived for the little girl. Realizing this, the corner of Aiess’ curled up into a grin.
~~~
Finally finished with work, Krioff walked the halls of the Department of Wishes in search of Karno. He felt a little bad for pushing Kerry onto him with no warning, but Zyglavis would have his head if work wasn’t finished on time. The minister of Puishments has been in an even stricter mood since the first day of the month.
Hearing voices, Krioff entered the parlor. Inside were Leon, Karno, Zyglavis and Scorpio, who were still going back and forth over the subject of their meeting. Not wanting to interrupt, Krioff scanned the room for Kerry. When he couldn’t spot her, he spoke up.
“Where’s the kid?” He asked, his voice halting the conversation.
Karno’s face paled. “Krioff, you’re finished already?”
Thanks to Leon and Zyglavis’ bickering, the meeting had run on much longer then expected.
Scorpio crossed his arms and mumbled to himself. “This should be good.”
“Yeah, Dui helped me get through it faster.” Krioff replied. “I can take her back. Where’s she at?”
Karno quickly stood from his seat. “I’ll go get her.”
Before he could walk away, Leon grabbed his Vice Minister’s arm and yanked him back onto the couch. “She’s with your parents.”
Dead silence.
“What?!” Krioff shouted, eyes narrowing as the room grew hotter.
“Krioff, calm yourself!” Zyglavis warned in a stern voice.
Krioff wasn’t listening. “Why is she there? I told you not to leave her with him unattended!”
“You’re mother’s there, Krioff. She won’t let anything bad happen to Kerry.” Karno said, averting his eyes. “I tried to keep her here, I really did.”
“Work is work, not playtime.” Scorpio stepped in. “You should know how hard it is to get things done while keeping an eye on a kid.”
The god of aries knew the Vice Minister of Punishments was right, but it didn’t make him feel any better. Forcing himself to calm down enough to avoid setting the room on fire, he snapped his fingers and transported instantly to his parents house.
Without bothering to knock, Krioff pushed the large door open and let himself in. His father stood in the hall, almost like he was waiting for him.
“Where’s the kid?” Krioff asked, his voice cold.
“With Melunia.” Aiess replied. “She’s fine.”
“She’s fine with Mom. With you...”
Aiess smirked. “I’m insulted you think I would stoop so low as to even look at an infant the wrong way.” His smile dropped and his eyes became cold enough to match his son’s. “Your mother’s enjoying time with Kerry right now. Must you take her away over our pointless feud?”
“I’ll bring her back for a visit soon, when I can be here to supervise.” Krioff replied.
Aiess chuckled. “I can see the girl’s grown on you. Honestly, Krioff, do you really think you and that Wishes god can give her a stable home?” Getting no answer, he continued. “Bouncing from one department to the next, constantly surrounded by noisy gods and the bustle of the palace... don’t you think she would be better off here?”
“What are you getting at?” Krioff asked, though he already knew the answer.
“Let your mother and I raise her. Having a mother and father under one roof is far more stable for a child then any life you and Karno could give her. You don’t even talk like she’s your child.”
“The king told Karno and I to raise her. Giving her to you isn’t an option.”
Aiess chuckled, placing a hand on his hip. “That’s right. She is an assignment for you.”
A high-pitched voice echoed through the hall. “Dadda!”
Krioff looked down as Kerry suddenly tackled his leg in a hug. She was covered in dirt, but other then that she was in one piece. Krioff reached down and picked Kerry up, who hugged him around the neck when she was at his level.
“What the heck happened to you, baby girl?” Krioff asked, patting the girl’s back as she hugged him.
Melunia appeared just then. “She was playing in the flower beds outside.” The woman smiled brightly. “I promise you that nothing poked her. Are you taking her home now?”
“Yeah. I’m done with work for the day.”
“Come back for a visit soon. It’s been a while since we’ve last gotten to see either of you. Please, bring Karno too.”
“I’ll ask him about it.” Krioff turned his eyes to his father. “The King may have assigned Kerry to me, but I’ll be a better father to my daughter then you ever were to your son.”
Aiess chuckled. “Prove me wrong, then.”
Re-adjusting his hold on the toddler, Krioff turned and left his parents house.
“Dadda! Play!” Kerry exclaimed.
The god smiled. “Sure, kid. We’ll play when we get home.”
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bave-de-crapaud · 4 years
Text
The Darkness Within...
CHAPTER FIVE
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(Yearning by crescentcreations.storenvy.com) 
Request by: the babe @belladonnarey
A/N: hmmm this one took a while BUT it (hopefully) is the smut you have been waiting for. Let me know what you like about it, what you don’t, what you think will happen. Enjoy and stay safe.  Sirius x Reader Older Sirius Sirius Lives/Post Azkaban Smutty McSmut Word count: 5500+ Disclaimer: All characters are assumed 18+ Warnings: Smut!
—-
Finding yourself at Number 12 Grimmauld Place became a regular if normal occurrence over the next few weeks. In your spare time you sat on the floor in Sirius’ library, pouring over dusty volumes containing everything and anything related to wizards and witches with ‘eccentric abilities’ - the technical term to what you had, apparently. 
The good thing about this was you weren’t the only one who had surfaced over the years with strange skills, there were wizards who could command water without a wand, witches who with one touch could drain a person of their fears, individuals who could fly sans apparatus and countless others who had fascinating and outrageous traits. The bad thing was none of these wizards were alive today to speak with, the last person with documented abilities had died over 100 years ago. Yet again you felt like you were on this journey on your own.
Sirius and Remus were constantly in and out of the house completing various missions and tasks for the order. Sirius checked on you often, bringing you tea or something to eat but kept himself scarce to let you figure out your mysteries alone. He seemed to understand that this was a private affair for you and you were grateful for the time. However each night around 8pm he would come into the Library, sit on one of the old leather couches and ask you about your day. 
You caught snippets of what he and Remus had been up to and learned that one of the missions ended in a grizzly discovery of Macnair’s body - found dead in his home - magic obviously the cause of torture and death. 
Voldemort had become less of a focus in your mind and each time you were called to his presence you found it easy to resist his psychological torment. The disgust on your face was not evident when fellow Death Eaters talked about their foul crimes. Being around Sirius was giving you a strength you never knew you had. The way he threw himself into fighting for equality and the right to live no matter what situation or who he had to work with, both humbled and amazed you. If he can put up with more than 12 years of the world thinking he was a betrayer and cold-blooded killer who was associated with Death Eaters and Voldemort, then you could put up with sporadically rubbing shoulders with Malfoy, Lestrange, and their cronies.
Your new attitude didn’t go unnoticed, it was put down to you growing a stronger stomach for violence and generally taken positively amongst the Death Eater ranks. However, Voldemort, though he outwardly showed no signs of displeasure, watched you more and decided to hold whatever he wanted Macnair to deliver to you for later. Like any nefarious leader, he was constantly on the lookout for a rat in his ranks and you were not exempt from this scrutiny.
After every Death Eater meeting, you would return home before heading over to Grimmauld Place, a new sanctuary, to pour over more books and hopefully absorb the good vibes from its admirable inhabitants. This made being with Death Eaters bearable. On the nights of Order meetings, however, you stayed away. Those evenings were becoming Sirius’ least favourite. It made sense to shield you from them for your own and others’ safety. However, that didn’t stop him feeling concerned for you. Reckless and impulsive, he may be, he was also a very intuitive and perceptive man. He hadn’t failed to notice how much you seem to relax in his library. He wanted that for you, relating to that feeling of relief as almost an addictive substance, he knew you needed and craved it and he wanted to give it to you. Badly. 
He felt protective and territorial of you. If he really wanted to analyse his feelings he would have noticed that your safety, though paramount, was not the only reason he wanted you to come to his house: the lingering looks as he gave you yet another cup of tea, finding a way to bring you into conversation with Remus, seemingly innocently, was a dead giveaway of deeper feelings. Remus said nothing, prefering to feign ignorance, yet the annoyingly knowing looks he gave Sirius hinted otherwise.
“Just ask her, Padfoot.” Remus sighed exasperatedly, shuffling his paper one day as Sirius kept looking towards the door of his library, knowing you were inside.
“Ask her what?” Sirius tried and failed to nonchalantly reply.
“Out, mate!” 
Sirius frowned, placing both hands on the kitchen table as though readying his defense. “For one: what makes you think I want to ask her out? And two: I couldn’t anyway - we are supposed to be on opposing sides remember?” 
Remus stared at his friend, conceding defeat but not enough to hold in his last words before disappearing behind the Daily Prophet; “True but if it can be concealed from the Death Eaters that she is at your house every day, then asking her to have dinner with you is not a huge step up I would think.”
There was another reason, Sirius hadn’t tried to gauge your feelings: He didn’t want you to think he was just trying to get a leg over. Your outright statement about his intentions after he first visited your house, had stuck with him. He concluded that you didn’t want him and pursuing you would only harden your view towards him further. So he played it safe, frustrating himself and unknowingly frustrating you in the process.
Sirius’ library was vast and carried more volumes on runes than all the franchises of Flourish and Blotts combined. What was interesting was that the interpretation of runes and ancient markings was just as vast and also open into a plethora of interpretation. You had discovered that the rune on your chest - the mirror image of one of Sirius’  tattoos - did indeed mean ‘destruction’ but in a form of new growth. Much like a farmer sowing soil, ridding the earth of old, dead, and rotting plants preparing it for new seeds.
Two runes on your left arm meant ‘Harm To My Enemies’ and another on your thigh could be interpreted as ‘The East Wind’. Other forms of your abilities were harder to quantify as there was no record of someone with all the same traits as you, however, those who had shown up throughout history with varying sources of atypical power were more often than not tyrants and individuals who used their abilities for evil. Stories of wizards who did not feel cold, commanding animals, and manipulating the elements such as fire were largely negative however speckled throughout the research were wizards who were great warriors, shepherds of the people, and in some cases just normal citizens living their lives like everyone else
Though you were slowly and steadily finding out more information about your powers and relished the time you were so easily given you couldn’t help but wish for Sirius’ company more often than an hour or two at night. Luckily for you, that was about to change.
“What’s wrong, Y/N?” You were sat on the floor in front of the fireplace staring gloomily at your fifth cup of tea.
You smiled “Sirius I’m so grateful for you letting me stay but I was wondering - do you have anything other than tea?”
He smirked and left the room returning seconds later with a bottle of fire whiskey. 
Handing you a large glass he clinked it with his and took his place back on the couch asking you again how was your day. Each night Sirius had helped you with your findings, giving his opinion or helping you to digest what you had read. He was adamant that your powers weren’t evil and that you needed to be confident in your choice to do what was right. He had served to make you feel good about yourself a lot but you wondered if he had the same support from his pairs. Tonight you put aside your research and decided to question him about his life. You had gleaned a bit about him over the last month but he was infinitely fascinating to you and seemed like a well of untapped ideas and beliefs.
He talked about his family, his friends, and the Order. He told you light hearted tales about his Hogwarts days and he talked at length about Harry and how sometimes he was nervous about his parenting role considering Walburga and Orion were such poor examples to go off.
“You know, you are not what I thought.” You said boldly after a moment of silence.
 Sirius sat up straighter on the couch and cocked his eyebrow at you. A side smile not quite covering a flicker of worry in his eyes.
“Oh?” Was all he said. “Yeah.” You walked forwards from your current position in front of the mantle place and took a seat beside him. 
“You care more about what people think than you let on.”
“Is that so?” He subconsciously moved his body so it was angled towards you.
“Yeah, and you are not as much of a dog around the ladies as I thought you’d be.” Sirius barked out a laugh at this. “Why thank you Y/N, but to be fair you have never seen me around ‘the ladies.’”
“I’ve seen you around me.” You answered bluntly. “You aren’t all over me with cheap pick up lines and cocky bravado.”
Sirius turned his head away and tried to hold in a laugh. Where was this coming from? He wondered.
“Is that how you think I would woo a woman? I’m slightly offended, Y/N.” He didn’t look it. He looked amused and a little interested.
He wasn’t able to tell if you were joking and as you glimmered at him, taking another sip of your drink.
“I don’t sleep around you know. I haven’t done that since I was 20, but unfortunately, that reputation has always preceded me.”
“You probably deserved it!” 
He scoffed, turning back to stare at the fire; “Probably, and don’t get me wrong I still like meeting new people but I have long since learned sex is far better with someone you have a connection with.”
“Ok then.” You said brightly, gaining his attention again. “What would you do?” 
“What would I do, when?” Sirius narrowed his eyebrows slightly, confused.
“When you want to “woo” a woman.” You signalled quotation marks in the air as you said the word ‘woo’ earning another quick chuckle from him.
Sirius paused, looking at you intently, cogs working fast in his brain. She wants you to woo her? No, she wants you to show her what you would do to woo her. Does that mean she wants me?
As Sirius battled these rapid thoughts, your own inner monologue was pipping up as well:  This is a dangerous game, Y/N.  You are leading him on and you know it.  It’s too dangerous, you can’t do anything with him. Don’t confuse the poor guy…unless you want to be leading him on.  Do you?
Shaking your head and forcing yourself to believe this would just be a fun game you crossed your legs leaning closer to Sirius.
He noticed glancing at your legs, smooth skin exposed up to past mid-thigh where your skirt took over covering the rest from there.
He looked back into your eyes and noticed a difference. Your pupils were bigger and there was a faint purple hue in your irises.
Right now, the sexual tension in the room could be cut with a knife. It had been building over the past few weeks. An accidental touch here and there, a smile, or a look that meant everything and nothing at the same time from him would floor you. When he looked over your shoulder to consider whatever book you were showing him, little puffs of his breath in your ear flooded your body with heat making it impossible to concentrate. All these reactions confused you and created a chronic longing feeling in your chest you had not experienced before. It made you feel warm, content, and giddy. 
Never having fallen for anyone before, you didn’t recognise the signs, the changes in your body and the effect he had on you mentally and physically. By the time these feelings had reached boiling point he was sitting next to you and your body was doing the thinking for you. God you wanted him to touch you. To an untrained eye Sirius looked so cool and collected, however beneath the surface he was anything but.
Since Remus had confronted him about asking you out, Sirius had thought little else. He was super aware of his body language, how it angled him towards you, begging him to take a step closer even if just to place his hand on your back as he passed. Believing that you didn’t want that from him, he was careful not to brush past you or stand too close and cause you to feel uncomfortable. He constantly watched himself and made sure he didn’t give you the wrong idea. It was hard though. Very hard.
Just yesterday he nearly pinned you against the wall and kissed you. He was walking you out and after a long night of research, you were tired and not watching where you were going. Just as he was saying “watch out for the…” you kicked over that bloody troll leg again. Instead of steading yourself, your first thought was not to wake up Sirius’ Mother’s portrait so you reached back to catch the falling article before its clatter made a sound. Overreaching, you fell backward into something hard and warm: Sirius’ chest. He instantly wrapped his arms around you, holding you tight and upright. 
“Are you ok?” he whispered in your ear, his puffs of breath once again making your veins tingle.
You swallowed and exited abruptly leaving Sirius cursing himself for what he thought was his incongruous behaviour. As far as you were concerned, it had been anything but and you were unable to stop thinking of him for the rest of the evening, dreaming of those same arms doing other far more inappropriate things making your sleep wrought with pleasurable shivers and fever. Oh God, was he ever going to come closer?
Until this evening he had been the perfect gentleman, respecting your boundaries and staying just out of reach. Apart from the one incident in the hallway, you hadn’t felt his touch, no matter how innocent, since he had carried you up the stairs to bed and that was having an unacceptable effect on you. It made you lean towards him further, lick your lips whenever he was near, and glance at his body when he wasn’t looking in a completely wanton way. He must notice the heat coming from me? You thought. He seemed so relaxed, not at all perturbed by your presence.
How wrong you were. Inside, Sirius was struggling. He was trying to be a gentleman but it was hard, you were making it hard. Do you actually want him? He was ok with just being in your orbit slowly torturing himself at not touching you, content at just being there but this evening, your flirting coupled with the fire whiskey was not helping, in fact, its lubricating effects ware making resisting anything you said that could be slightly construed as even vague interest, very, very difficult. 
Sirius cleared his throat. Not taking his eyes off you. “You want me to show you how I ask a woman out?”
“Yes, show me your moves!”
Sirius smiled but his eyes held a serious, almost pained look. Before you could ask him what was wrong he shuffled in his seat.
“Y/N, I don’t have moves I just sort of feel a situation out, see if she likes me and then go from there.”
“Ok well, show me how you do that. Come on.” You egged him as he gave you a look of doubt. “It’ll be fun.”
It’ll be torture. Sirius thought, but you were looking at him with such a blazing warmth in your eyes, he relented and shifted so he was closer to you.
“Well, if I like her I have usually gotten to know her a little bit, watched the way she moves, adjusted my body language to suit whatever she is comfortable with, and look for signs she is interested in me too.”
He stretched so his right arm was running along the back of the couch, behind you, touching your shoulder ever so lightly. You shivered at the contact. 
“Then I guess I would let her take the lead.” His voice had lowered and you noticed he had leaned closer to you. You had also noticed that the outside of his right leg was pressed against your crossed calves and as he leaned to you further you got a whiff of his cologne. The musky, manly scent combined with his closeness dilated your pupils further and sent your mind whirling.
Before you could collect yourself Sirius gave you a slow, mischievous smile, took a sip of his drink and said very quietly; “Your turn.”
“My…w-what?” you uttered, stammering slightly.
“Your turn to show me your moves.”
Fuck you wanted him. Could you? No? Slowly, not realising it you inched closer to him. 
You were nervous, Sirius could finally see that. Whatever he was doing had an effect on you. Sirius loved the excitement of turning someone else on, this was him in his element. However, unlike most interactions with the opposite sex, this one was equally thrilling and torturing him. Setting his glass down and gathering a sliver of confidence he tentatively he placed his left hand on your thigh. You sucked in a sharp breath which he mistook for fear immediately whipping his hand away and opening his mouth to apologise only to be interrupted by the words: “Don’t stop.”
He looked back at you, having just enough time to register your meaning before you lunged forward, capturing his lips in yours. 
There was a seconds pause then Sirius was returning your kiss with fervor. He wrapped his arms around your back clinging to your shirt before lifting you up and onto his lap, legs either side of his, pressing into him exquisitely. 
He tasted like fire whiskey and something sweet at the same time.
He moved his hand through your hair holding your head while the other held your lower back pressing you firmly, further into him. Suddenly the hand holding your head was gone and running up your outer thigh, underneath your skirt. 
His warm fingers caressed your upper thigh, moving further to touch the tip of your hip and run tantalizing circles across your backside.
His kisses were feverish and sending you reeling. The way he swept his tongue across your lips opening them and deepening the kiss was tantalizing. Clinging to him, grabbing fistfuls of his hair, you ground down into his crotch and he groaned, opening his eyes. They were heavy with desire.
Sirius squeezed your bum picking you up and laying you back down on the couch. He didn’t remove his lips from yours as he wrapped your legs around his waist and lowered his body onto yours.
You arched up into him and he was immediately transported to the first dream he had of you, lying naked on his bed. He let out a shuddered breath; “You are so beautiful, Y/N. I want you.”
Instead of being flattered by this, a voice popped up in the back of your mind; Did he though? Shaken by this sudden thought, then jumping slightly at the bang of the front door signifying the probable return home of Remus served to knock you back into reality. The situation suddenly became very clear to you. You had just thrown yourself at a man who was known for sleeping with multiple women, very easily it seemed if you were to believe what he said before - he didn’t have to do anything and they offered themselves to him.
Of course he wanted you - you had led him on with your ‘game’ basically given yourself up to him on a platter. This wasn’t real, it was convenient and you could seriously hurt him if you let him in further.
Seeing the change in your face, Sirius sat up, “Y/N, are you ok? Was this too fast?.”
“Sirius..I” you were so embarrassed. Sitting up, quickly removing your legs from around him. 
“I’m sorry I shouldn’t have.” He could see the blush rising up around your cheeks and you couldn’t look at him.
“Shouldn’t have? What do you mean - I think this was on both of us. Don’t you?”
“I mean.” You screwed your eyes shut, breathing deeply, “I didn’t mean to give you the wrong idea…I… I don’t do one nightstands.” 
“One nightstands?” he was frowning at you, confused, his mind racing. Didn’t she hear me before? 
Seeing him frown and mistaking it for annoyance rather than confusion you stood up and started to back towards the door. “I should go, I’m so sorry for coming on to you.”
“Y/N! Wait!” But before he could take two steps towards you, you had turned on your heel and raced out the door.
“Y/N!” Sirius was still calling your name as you shot out the front door, turning on the spot to disapparate. 
“Argh, Y/N how could you be so stupid!” You cursed yourself as you walked around your kitchen.
That had been the hottest, most erotic thing that had happened to you and you choked, freaked out, and left.
You wanted Sirius it was true but you couldn’t quite believe someone like him could want you for anything more than a one time fling. No one else had wanted more so what made him any different?
Plus even if he did there was a real chance you could lose it and hurt him. The feelings he elicited from you were unreal and you had never felt that alive and heated before. It both thrilled and frightened you to your bones.
Though the research you conducted in his library had opened up ideas that you hadn’t had before - you were still afraid. Sirius had quickly and unquestionably become your favourite person and you didn’t think your poor heart could take having him in the most intimate way and then not having him again. So you had done the most adult thing you could think of: insulted his intentions and run away. “Brilliant!” You spat.
Back at Geimmauld Place, Sirius was pacing up and down the hall. “YOU IDIOT!” He yelled at himself waking up his mother. “Oh shut the fuck up you old hag!” Storming out of the house, and out into the night air helped calm him and give him clarity. He disapparated instantly.
Lifting your head from your hands you got up from the kitchen table as you heard a soft knock at your front door.
Sirius stood at your door with a dark, devastating look.
“Sirius I…” you began.
“I want you more than just for tonight.” He blurted out. “I have for a long time” 
“What if I hurt you?” 
He walked in, eyes dark and grabbed you, “You won’t.”
He let you go and stood before you, waiting. He wanted you to be sure of him and sure of yourself. His broad shoulders quivered under your stare, not with fear but ready to do anything you desired. Sirius was a handsome man, sure, but standing before you laying his cards on the line, his need for you so obvious and open made him the most beautiful thing you had ever seen. He was not afraid of anything. His confidence fanned yours and you ignored the fear building in your stomach and stepped into him. 
Attaching himself to your lips once more he didn’t look as he closed the front door and led you towards your staircase.
Laying you down on your bed once again he hovered above you, one muscled arm on either side of your head. This view of you sprawled out underneath him jogged his memory and as he recalled first dream about you again. He closed his eyes and shuddered.
“What’s wrong Sirius?”
Your concern was squashed by a sly smile. He opened his eyes and said with a smirk: “I’ve dreamt about this before”
“Is that so?”
“Yes” he looked at you intently.
“What did dream me do?”
You couldn’t quite hold your smug smile while Sirius bit his lip and told you.
Wrapping your legs around him once more, you pulled him down on top of you. Hands running down his sides as you kissed him, you felt his muscles tense at each spot you touched. Whatever you were doing to him, he enjoyed it.
Taking great effort to wrench his lips from yours Sirius looked at you once more and asked: “Y/N, would you like to go to dinner with me sometime?”
Looking surprised, you nodded. He smiled. “I meant what I said. This isn’t just a once off. Not for me.”
“I know.” You conceded. “I also just didn’t want my first time to be meaningless.” “Your first time?” Sirius looked shocked. “You mean you’ve never…?”
You shook your head, grimacing slightly hoping this didn’t change anything.
“Oh Y/N, are you sure?” Sirius was surprised and, if possible, turned on even more. There was something so special about sharing someone’s first experience. Meaning something so much to them that they wanted to be with you. He felt sexy, powerful, and potent which combined with how long he had lusted over you and the way you moved, made it incredibly hard for him to focus.
“Yes Sirius.” The brazen look in your eyes and the way you ran your hands in sweeping strokes around his body told him that though you may not have had sex you had had other intimate experiences and you knew what you wanted.
He shuddered once more, closing his eyes as you arched up into him again. 
“Y/N.” His voice came out in a rasp. “God, you are turning me on… I want you so badly but if this is not right for you please tell me and we’ll stop.”
You surprised him by laughing softly. “You’re sort of killing the mood, Sirius. I want this, I want you - you know you are not the only one who has touched themselves dreaming about us.”
Suddenly, with a twirl of your fingers, soft, malleable ropes appeared at your wrists. Gently lifting your arms up and firmly tying your hands to your bedpost.
Sirius’ jaw dropped and he almost started drooling. The look on his face, one of absolute adoration, spurred you on further. Another flick of your wrist and your clothes slowly started peeling themselves off your body, ripping in parts to remove themselves from you until you were lying naked, stretched underneath him, replicating that particular dream perfectly.
As you looked up at him through relaxed eyelids and purred; “I want you to touch me, Sirius.” He nearly came undone.
Though he was only wearing his jeans and a shirt he couldn’t get naked fast enough.
Sirius laid his body against yours, groaning at the feel of your soft skin. He kissed you deeply, letting one arm hold himself while the other dipped low, wandering further until it came torturously close to your clit before moving passed and circling your inner thigh.
You groaned with frustration and he smiled into your lips as he kissed you, tongue sweeping inside your mouth lighting sparks inside your head.
Each time he neared closer to your core, your breath hitched, waiting, only to be expelled in frustration as he moved passed and to another area. 
He explored your mouth, your neck, your collar bone, and your nipples with his mouth, all the while coming close to touching you where you needed but not getting close enough.
Finally, he swept his finger up the line of your folds and flicked your clit. A move that literally took your breath away and his. He could feel how wet you were and it made his cock twitch with excitement. “Oh, Y/N.”
His teasing had become torturous for him as well. If he wasn’t careful, your body was going to turn him on so much that he might come on you rather than inside you like he desperately wanted.
He moved down to flick your nipple with his tongue then continued further south until his head was level with your core. A brush of stubble on your inner thigh had you jolting. He kissed the spot, sparking your lust even more. Not able to take any more teasing, “please Sirius” you begged. The desperate timbre of your voice made him feel incredibly desired.
He gently made taught the skin above your clit tilting it upwards and licking it, so lightly but giving you the feeling of being shocked with the most incredible surge of power. A whimper and a groan encouraged him to carry on and soon he was holding your bucking hips down as he continued to rapidly lick, and flick the sensitive bead. You could feel a sudden blooming inside you, growing outwards, and upwards lighting even your soul on fire. Suddenly afraid your weird powers might cause you to lash out and hurt him you made to move away but he held you down and stopped his tongue briefly enough to growl, “you won’t, just let go.”
He shifted his free hand under your bum and squeezed as he buried his face once more in your core.  There it was again, that sweet hot feeling running through your bones. A warm glow washed over you and into him - consuming him filling him with love. You could feel his devotion to you, how turned on he was, how much he longed for you. This had never happened previously and before you could process it the orgasm he gave you lifted you off the bed causing you to cry out his name over and over. He did not relent, it was exquisite ecstasy.
“Oh God, oh God…” you breathed, hyperventilating from how good he had made you feel. Sirius was smiling, he had made his way back up the bed and was lying next to you, stroking your side.
You wrenched your arms out of the ropes and launched at him, taking him off guard and kissing him deeply, pushing yourself on top of him until you were straddling his lap just like you had only moments ago in his library.
Sirius’ cocky smile turned into an ‘oh’ as his mouth opened while you grabbed his erection and placed it at your entrance. Wetting the tip from your already dripping core you slowly began to slide down.
Sirius, groaned, bit his lip and grasped your hips. He was utterly and irrevocably under your spell.
Feeling a stretch, painful at first, you continued to slide down until a snapping feeling followed by a slight relief brought you to the bottom of his shaft.
Taking your breath you slowly started to move up and down his cock, squeezing intermittently and kissing him sporadically.
The frenzy he had whipped you into before had served to lubricate your entrance so though there was some pain at first, it soon gave way to a delightfully filling feeling.
“Ohhh Y/N” Sirius groaned as your inner walls stroked his shaft. You were tight, as he expected but your smooth movements and rocking of your hips blew him away. If this was you at your first time then he was in for a real treat when you had more experience under your belt. Thoughts of you experimenting with others flashed across his mind and he growled. Territorial hormones took him over as he squeezed your hips hard lifting his own up into you, hitting a spot inside you that caused you to moan.
Sirius noticed this and increased the snapping of his hips. Continuous thrusts meeting each other coupled with your already sensitive clit rubbing against the rough hair on his pelvis was causing an orgasm to build again. Surely not? Not at your first instance of sex, you thought?
A delightful wave tickled your walls and you shivered. “Sirius, I’m going to come. Don’t stop.”
He didn’t, reaching down between you he rubbed your clit once more to bring your orgasm about faster. Feeling your walls clamp down around him his thrusts became sloppier and as you came, unraveling on top of him he found his release crying your name and squeezing your hips painfully. 
You fell forward on top of him and he instantly wrapped his arms around you rolling you to the side, still inside of you showing no signs he wanted to get up.
Laying there entwined with him, you felt the content warm feeling ripple through you again. You had let go and not lost control! If you could do this then you could do anything. No more holding back. In one act of love Sirius had helped you break the shackles of fear and find relief from a lifetime of pressure and concern. You felt light and confident. Chuckling to yourself he looked at you cocking an eyebrow in question.
“Well Sirius, those were some good moves!” 
There was a beat and then you both laughed.
—- Tag list: @sirius-lysad @riddikuluslypotter @emmamass24 @evyiione @mylovelykelsifer @sly-vixen-up2nogood @ashkuuuu @songforhema @wangmangagavroche @borbole-teias @legalyred @qwertyokok
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stenbrozier · 4 years
Text
Step Away (Teen!Richie Tozier x Teen!Kaspbrak!Reader)
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Plot: Richie is fucking both you and your brother Eddie, though he’s dating you and only fucked Eddie once. Eddie ended up telling you about it, and then you go to Richie’s a few day later and confront him about it.
Warnings: swearing, mentions and descriptions of sex + fighting w/ lots of yelling, bi!Richie, gay!Eddie, and mentions of cheating.
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“But (Y/N), Richie is so good with his dick,” Eddie said nonchalantly, blushing as he saw the side eye you gave him after you looked up from the book you were reading. “Like, I didn’t expect him to be so good. I thought he was bluffing.” He scoffed and sat up on your bed, ruffling his hair to get it out of his eyes.
“Sounds great, Ed,” you whispered back, sighing as you felt tears burning your eyes as the threatened to fall down your face. “I’m getting kind of tired.” You sniffled softly, looking up to your twin brother who laid across your bed as you scrunched up by your pillow. He looked back at you, a gleam of sadness in his eyes that showed you that he wanted to tell you more, but instead, Eddie nodded sadly.
“I thought we were going to have a movie night while Mom’s gone for the month.” Ed furrowed his eyebrows at you as you shrugged.
“We’ll...we’ll do one tomorrow, okay? I just, I’m just really tired,” you confessed. “I’m sorry.”
He smiled at you and shook his head, waving his hand in a way that told you to dismiss your apology.
“It’s okay,” Eddie replied, getting up and giving you a hug. “Goodnight. Love you.”
“Love you too, Eds.” You watched him leave the room, shutting the door behind him with a soft click.
You brought your knees up to your chest, feeling the tears you had been holding back run down your face in a silent heat. You were going to kill Richie the next time you saw him.
—————————-
You marched up to the front door of the Tozier residence, knocking more urgently than usual but not so hard you alarmed his parents. Mrs. Tozier opened the door, greeting you with a soft smile and a hug. You and Richie had been together for a few months, and she became your “sane mother”, as she put it. She let you in the house, and you waved at Mr. Tozier who you could see was doing the crosswords in the newspaper in the dining room to the right of you.
“He’s just up in his room,” Maggie said, pointing up to the top of the steps. “Would you like to stay for dinner? It should be ready any minute.”
You thought for a second. Eddie was at Stan’s for dinner tonight, so you would’ve been alone anyway. You nodded with a smile.
“I’d love to join you guys,” you replied. “Thank you very much, Mrs. Tozier.”
She kissed the top of your head before walking back into the kitchen through the dining room. You walked up the creaky wooden steps, taking a right turn deeper into the upstairs. You knocked on the door softly and turned the knob when you heard a soft “come in.” Richie saw you and smiled, coming over to wrap you in his arms. You avoided him, scooting to the side quickly. He looked at you confused, and you walked around him to sit at his desk.
“Hello to you, too,” Richie murmured sassily. “What’s got your panties in a bunch? Are you horny?” He raised his eyebrows up and down while you scoffed.
“You should know what my fucking problem is,” you snapped, shrugging your shoulders and folding your arms.
“What the fuck does that mean?” Richie practically yelled back. There was a bite in his voice, one you’d never heard.
You were about to answer when his mom yelled up the stairs that it was time for dinner. You stood up first, going down with Richie hot on your tail. When you guys sat down at the table, Maggie looked at you with what seemed to be remorse.
“I completely forgot to offer up the telephone so that you could call Sonia and tell her where you were here,” she admitted, a hint of nervousness in her voice. “I know how she gets.” You shook your head, taking your knife and fork and cutting the lasagna on your plate.
“Don’t worry about it. She isn’t home anyways. She left Eddie and I for the month so that she could visit family in Augusta.” You sighed, putting a piece of food in your mouth and chewing it throughly. “And Eds is at Stanley’s tonight anyway. He went to go help him work on his car I think. So I would’ve been alone. It’s all much appreciated.” Maggie smiled at you, and then looked over at Richie who snickered.
“You okay, Rich?” Went asked, reading his wife’s mind.
“Yeah. It’s just that I don’t think Eddie is at Stanley’s. I saw him at Keene’s a little over an hour ago.” Richie shrugged his shoulders as he finished his prattle.
“Well, he had work today, too. He’s been working a lot lately,” you said spitefully, continuing to eat your food as the table went silent.
You took a sip of your water and eventually finished up your food, thanking Maggie again as you and Richie retreated back up to his room. When you were both in, he shut the door and sat across from you on his bed. He tried to reach for your hand, but you pulled away.
“Baby, what’s going-“ You slammer your hand against the bed, a soft thump coming from the motion.
“Don’t fucking call me ‘baby.’” You stood up angrily, pacing before looking back at the dumbfounded boy who sat in front of you. “Fucking my brother, Richie?! Behind my back?! When we’ve been dating for months!”
Richie’s eyes went wide, and he cursed at himself internally. He didn’t mean for it to happen, but when Eddie slept over the other night, one thing lead to another, and suddenly, Eddie had Richie’s dick in his mouth and was begging for him to fuck him. You saw the way Richie’s demeanor changed and you smirked bitterly, emitting a huff from your nose.
“Did you think I wouldn’t find out?” you said loudly through gritted teeth. hoping his parents didn’t hear you. “He’s my brother, Rich. My twin brother, for that matter.” You felt tears welling up and falling down your face.
“I-it was an accident, (Y/N)!” Richie stood up, trying to grab your hands as you flailed them to avoid him. Eventually, he pinned them at your sides, causing you too look at him. “One thing led to another, and before I knew it, we were naked laying in my bed. I want you, not Eddie.”
You shook your head, looking him directly in his eyes with malice coursing through your veins. “You can’t accidentally do anal with my brother. That makes you sound like an idiot. Honestly, you are one, but not that idiotic. We’ve been together for months, Richie. Why would you do this to me?”
You yanked yourself out of his grasp and walked over to look out his window. It was starting to get dark, and you checked your watch, seeing that it was almost 8 o’clock. You shook your head and turned back to Richie.
“Him or me,” you yelled. “It’s either you keep fucking him or you keep me. You can’t have both. I’m not gonna give you all the cutesy sides of dating when he gets to fuck you.”
Richie stammered as he looked at you, his mouth opening and closing like a cod fish. You nodded your head, grabbing the sweater you had discarded on his bed when you walked in. You stormed out of his room, and his heavy footsteps followed you.
“(Y/N), come on,” he begged, trying to walk next to you on the stairs, but you just moved faster. “Baby!” You ignored him, peeking your head into the living room to say another thank you and a goodbye to the Toziers. They watched as Richie followed you outside, and they shared a knowing look.
“Stop fucking following me,” you screamed, scaring him into silence. “You had the audacity to tell me you loved me, you told me you fucking loved me Richie, and then you go and have sex with my brother.”
The streetlights were starting to turn on, and you knew you were probably disturbing family dinners or the people that were on their late night walks with their dogs or kids, but you didn’t care. Richie was a scumbag.
“I fucking told you that I wanted you,” he screamed back, his voice cracking. “I fucking told love you and I still do. What happened between Eddie and I was a mistake, I’ll admit it, but with you it’s so much more.” He wiped tears off of his cheeks as he jabbed a finger at you. “I love you. You’re my everything. Fucking Eddie was wrong, and I regret it. Deeply.”
“Eddie doesn’t,” you answered, your voice had dropped to a scary volume, slightly above a whisper. “He wouldn’t stop going on and on about how good you felt when he was telling me about it. And I’m all for Eddie figuring himself out, believe me, but not with my boyfriend, Rich. I love you, too, but I can’t be with you if you’re gonna fuck other people.”
Richie’s heart sank even further into his chest, and his breathing picked up. “Don’t break up with me. Please.”
He walked closer to you, testing the waters as he reached out for you. He wrapped his arms around your waist, and you let him but fought the urge to hug him back. Richie was crying into your shoulder, leaving small kisses on the junction where your neck connected with your shoulder.
“Please,” he whispered. You felt his hot years on your skin, and you couldn’t help but hug him back. “Please don’t leave me.”
“I won’t,” you sighed out. “But, you’re going to tell Eddie you’re done with him and tell him it didn’t mean a thing. We’re going to come clean about us being together to everyone, even your parents.” You pushed him away from you so you could look him in the eyes. “And don’t think I’m going to forget about all of this. We’re going to take a break, I don’t know how long, but I need time to think on this.”
“Eddie is gonna be so pissed at me,” Richie mumbled to himself, gripping your waist tighter. “He’d kill me for breaking your heart and then resurrect me to kill me again for breaking his.” You shrugged, bringing your hand up to tuck a strand of the mess of curls that sat on top of his head behind his ear.
“You did this to yourself,” you softly responded, pulling away fully. “You’re going to tell him in person, too. None of that pussy bullshit.” He nodded, looking down at his feet as he sniffled.
“And when I do it?” he asked, hoping he’d get the answer he wanted. All Richie wanted was for you to be his.
“You’ll wait until I say we can get back together.” That wasn’t the answer he was looking for. “You hurt me. I need time to heal.”
“What if when you heal, you don’t love me anymore?” he whispered, a new string of tears falling down his face. “What if you forget about me?”
“I’ve been in love with you since we were 12, asshat,” you replied. “I’m not just going to stop so suddenly.”
“I’ll tell Eds this weekend,” Richie said, biting his lip. “And then I’ll call you. After that, you’ll get your space.” Richie went to reach up and cup your cheek, but you shook your head ‘no.’
“Don’t make it even harder,” you whimpered, tears steaming down your face as you started to retreat down the sidewalk back home. “Thank you. I’ll see you, Rich. I love you, seriously. I really do.”
He sniffled and nodded, watching as you made it halfway to the sidewalk before he yelled back at you. “I’m so fucking in love with you, it’s going to kill me!”
You shook your head, looking back over your shoulder, to see him standing with his hand tucked into the pockets of his zip up hoodie and a huge grin on his face. You smiled back softly, the love you held for him running through your head.
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anika-ann · 4 years
Text
Grease and Pearls - Pt.3
Dreams Meet Reality
Type: One-shot turned three-shot (because does anyone really want a 17k in one go?)
Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader (main), Tony/Reader, Tony/Pepper
Word count: 3400 or 5100 (yeah, you read it right, see A/N)
Summary: An uptown girl met a downtown guy with a heart of gold. Oh, and he was handsome too. It inevitably leads to their relationship developping… but is there any chance for them at all?
For @cxptain​​ ’s challenge. Prompt: Uptown Girl by Billy Joel
Warnings: swearing (a lot), attempt at angst, ghosting, communication par excellence
A/N: We had fluff and smut. What are we missing? That’s right. Heads up, people! There is an alternate ending to my original one, the one sentence where it breaks is in italics. I hope that makes sense ;) Pick whichever or read both :D Enjoy!
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Story Masterlist
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It was bound to happen – you knew as much – but deep in your heart, you had hoped it wouldn’t. You had hoped it would last longer. You had hoped that perhaps a miracle would occur and in some mysterious way, you would be able to convince your parents that marrying you to Anthony was a terrible idea.
You should have known better than that.
The very day you had fell asleep in Steve’s arms after making love – and God, you could still feel him, his touches on your skin, his mouth, everywhere, even in the most intimate places, a pleasant, almost ceremonial ache lingering exactly there, a memory of fire in your belly and your heart – you got caught.
Your parents had been waiting at Potts’ house as you reached it around eleven in the evening, a smiling mess, a sight to behold, and any illusion about the future you had been painting in your mind shattered.
Pepper had tried to take part of the blame, but your parents always believed that you were the faulty daughter in your household and such ways stretched outside your house.
Your father was furious. Your mother was deeply disappointed and even faked a few tears – or perhaps she shed them for real, mourning her reputation, one the family would fight tooth and nail to retain.    
You had literally fallen on your knees and begged when they found a drawing from a street artist, a souvenir of one of your trips to downtown which you had only craved to explore-- and by some miracle indeed, you were allowed to keep it and not to have it torn to shreds right in front of your eyes. Pepper’s teary gaze told you she knew you were making up things up as you went and that the drawing, the one that captured beauty you weren’t sure you possessed, meant much more.
You couldn’t even hope to earn forgiveness, so you only asked for it half-heartedly.
What you did earn was a damn chaperon.
In your age! In this day and age!
Her name was Maria and she was truly efficient and strict to a fault. Nevertheless, she respected your privacy and whenever you were to meet Pepper, she would stand just outside the door and wait if you asked for a confidential conversation… which was always, you didn’t need some goddamned stranger spying on you. What the hell.
But truly, all things considered, you had lucked out; as your parents didn’t fault Pepper for your actions, you were still allowed to meet with her at least and to talk her in private.
However, the marriage plans were sped up.
And naturally, you couldn’t even hope to set your foot anywhere near downtown. You hadn’t seen Steve for two weeks, you hadn’t even found his number in the phone book to explain yourself and you missed him.
Your heart seemed to fail in its basic function; when you were lying in your bed at night, wide awake, it longed after ocean blue eyes with a drop of green, strong hands holding you close, and it wouldn’t stop pounding wildly in your chest. In the morning, your heart appeared to be beating so slowly you had to place your palm over the area to make sure it was still there, that it still had enough strength to keep you upright all day ahead.
And it ached 24 hours a day. For you, for Steve, who must have been clueless on why you never showed up to your set date or any time after. You were hurting and your parents watched you suffer along with your sister, frowning at you and scolding you to stop acting like a five-year old who had a toy taken away.
They could never understand. Was that a curse or a blessing?
Pepper was the only person you could trust, only person you could talk to about your true sorrows and her patience never seemed to wear thin despite her own turmoil – after all, if your marriage was to be sped up… her hopes were being crushed as well.
“Pepper… I don’t want to marry Tony. God, I can’t marry him,” you whispered, a cup of tea in your hands, your palms and fingers curled around the warm ceramics, hoping for it to take away some of the ever-present cold your body radiated these days.
Your friend smiled at you sadly, an honest and heart-breaking lift of the corners of her lips.
“I know, honey.”
You chuckled bitterly at the irony. Here you were, stealing her dreamed man, on she loved, while yearning after another, after the one you loved. You looked up at the ceiling, blinking away the tears gathering in your eyes – again and again, barely a day without their presence. They were always there, ready for the dam to broke so they could run down your cheeks.
When you spoke again, you could barely force the words out of your tight throat.
“I… I truly love Steve. I dreamed tonight, about having a little boy,” you whispered, the image still vivid behind your now closed eyelids. He was so damn pretty, your sweet little boy. “Blond hair, pretty blue eyes full of mischief and such innocent smile with a front tooth missing and I was expecting with another--… I want that. I want to have Steve’s children one day and I want Steve. I need him. It feels like I can’t breathe without him.”
Tender hands reached for your shoulders and pulled you into an embrace, soft and careful, yet very unladylike, not proper for anyone to see in public – at least not here, not in uptown. God, you hated it here. You despised it now, truly. And if that made you an ungrateful brat, then so be it.
“Oh sweety, I know exactly how you feel. I’m so sorry,” Pepper replied in the same manner, comfortingly stroking your arm. She sounded on the verge of tears as well. “But you know what your family is like, they would never accept Steve. As much as it hurts you and me… I’m not sure you really have a choice.”
You swallowed against the lump formed in your throat and shakily breathed in.  
“Don’t I?”
You thought of your chaperon and wondered… just how heartless could she be?
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It was three weeks after his girl’s last surprise visit that had somehow resulted in her and Steve tangled in his sheets when he lost his faith in her and whatever the two of them had had completely.
Three weeks without as much as a glimpse of her or a word, two weeks of not going to bed without few bottles of beer to keep him company, Steve walked into the shop and instantly knew something was wrong.
The usually loud environment full of chatter and teasing was suspiciously quiet.
“Hey guys,” he called out, trying to sound casual. “What gives?”
“Nothing-“ Thor responded swiftly – and way too quickly. Steve rolled his eyes.
“I’m blond but ain’t that stupid. Who pissed in everyone’s cereal? Buck?”
Steve’s best friend looked up from his work, shorty meeting his eyes. The regretful gaze spoke volumes on its own, but the brunet still sighed, tossing the rag in his hands on the nearest hood.
Steve suddenly wasn’t so sure he wanted to hear the news whatever it was. Dread filled his stomach, a feeling that had his gut twist uncomfortably. The blue-grey irises of his friend hid behind his eyelids.
“I… I’ve been in town this morning, Steve,” he explained slowly, cursing under his breath when he took in Steve’s perfectly confused expression, awaiting a metaphorical punch. “Fuck, Steve—I-eh, I saw Carter with Stark and they were-“ The coil in Steve’s stomach tightened to the point of him thinking he might throw up. “-shit, I’m sorry, Steve, they were at jeweller’s, probably picking up a ring.”
A ring.
Right.
Because she was getting married. To Stark. He knew that—he had been, in fact, informed that it might happen at some point.
But no-- like a fool, he had painted an image in his head, stupid and naïve and even found himself thinking about his ma’s engagement ring – once or twice since he had met his stunning uptown girl –, one he had inherited and was planning to give a woman who would take his heart.
Funny how his mind had been purposely leaving out the fact that the very same woman he had given his heart to was the one who could stomp on it and let it bleed on the pavement.
Fuck, he was a complete idiot, wasn’t he?
Steve swallowed against his suddenly dry throat, nodding few times in acknowledgement of the information, lips in a tight line, one corner lifted in an ironic smile as his blood boiled.
“Well… we knew it was comin’, didn’t we?” he remarked and shook his head with a scoff.
God, he was so fucking stupid-
“Steve-“
He waved Bucky off, stalking towards his own station. He dropped his bag, always stashed with clean clothes just in case, to the ground by the counter, hand blindly reaching out. He grabbed the wrench on the top unmistakably, his fingers curling firmly around the metal.
One swift movement, one jerk of his bulging arm and the wrench was sent flying, hitting the momentarily empty chain with an ominous clang that could only hope to echo the mad rage he felt, sizzling in his veins, eating him up from the inside.
“Fuck him!” he roared, the ferocity of his voice startling even his mates who were familiar with his occasional temper.
His breathing turned heavy as he reached for another tool, flinging it the same way, this time hitting the wall, much to his irritation.
Jesus fucking shit-- he was so fucking mad – at her, at himself, at Stark, Stark who thought he could just take and take, greedy asshole, just like all of those uptown snobs that thought they owned the fucking world!  
“Fuck Stark and all of those privileged assholes! I hope they rot in- Fucking! Hell!”
Two more objects Steve didn’t bother to look at flied through the air and hit the chains, the harmless violence not providing him with half the satisfaction he hoped in.
By the time the boss stalked into the shop the check on what was going on – and to yell at his employees to stop fucking around – Steve had been long gone, taking the SHILED bike and driving away until all he could feel was the wind swishing around his head, loud enough to drown out his noisy thoughts.
“Rogers came in sick, we sent him home,” Pietro supplied helpfully, the deadpan expression on Fury’s face telling him that he had none of that shit.
Yet, the bossman sighed and headed back to his office.
“Good, wouldn’t want him to puke all over my fuckin’ garage.”
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She showed up in the shop on week four. Steve was just coming back from a short bathroom break, quickly taking a U-turn when he got a glimpse of her in the overhead door to the garage, wearing black and red elegant dress.
He leaned his back against the separating wall, closing his eyes at the painful jab to his stomach.
Logically, there was no reason for him to be so devastated. He fucked girls before—he liked girls before. So why did he have to be such a missy when it came to her? She was pretty, sure, but there were plenty of cute gals. Steve really tried not to think about the L word they had exchanged, because deep down it had dawned to him a while ago; he was so fucked up because he was in love and then he was dumped by a lady who normally wouldn’t look at him twice, which was something that his brain had been bullheadedly refusing to accept.
“Sorry, he ain’t in today,” Odinson drawled, traces of hostility in his voice.
“Oh,” she sounded surprised and he could picture the gentle confused frown, the slight pout to her lips—shit, those lips tasted like cherry-- "Uhm, do you know when he will be in?”
“Why do ya’ need to know?”
Steve was certain that her frown deepened at Bucky’s words.
“Well, uhm, I need to talk to him, it’s important. Should I come here in few days or-“
“Don’t think he’ll be ‘round here any time soon.”
“Is he alright?” she asked, genuine concern in her voice and it took all of Steve’s willpower not to bang his head against the wall.
Why, just why was she doing this to him? Why would she care?
Now he knew that was cruel to her – he believed that once, she had truly been interested in him – but he told himself multiple times that her looks were deceiving, that she only had been looking for a distraction from her uptight uptown world. Maybe if he told himself enough times, he would start to believe it.
“Ain’t none of your business, princess,” Thor retorted and Steve just knew she winced at the harsh tone, a soft gasp escaping her mouth, that sweet mouth he had  kissed over three weeks ago, sweet, innocent and sinful, the music of her short breaths filling his poor excuse of a loft, keeping him fucking going.
“Nice ring, by the way,” Bucky said nonchalantly.
Steve gulped at that. Yeah, he bet it was; but there was no way Bucky was being polite. The venom dripping from his words was a message on its own.
And she picked up on it, naturally. His –not his anymore, not that she had ever truly been – brilliant beautiful girl.
“Oh. Thank- thank you,” she whispered and Steve had to strain his ears like a creep, catching the crack in her voice; he almost ran out hearing it, ready to comfort her, because God, he couldn’t imagine her crying, salt tears rolling down her rosy cheeks - few had when they had made love, but she had been smiling too.
He was sure that seeing her cry without that smile… it would feel the world was ending. Her eyes were made for shining with happiness, her lips made for laughter-
“The fuck-?“
Steve’s head snapped straight when he heard his boss leaving his office, catching him chilling by the wall, very much not working and instead trying not to break and kiss the woman he loved stupid – no matter how stupid that made him. She was engaged. Promised to another, a much classier man… or at least much richer, Steve didn’t imagine his character being worth a damn penny.
On instinct, Steve put a finger over his own lips, wordlessly begging Fury not to rat him out. The man rolled his good eye – the one that hadn’t been hit by hot oil years ago – and crossed his arms on his chest.
“And—uhm, I see. Tell—please tell him I stopped by if he- and that I am sorry for not coming here for so long. He can leave a message with Mrs.Maximoff if he--- tell him I really need to-- that I would like to talk to him,” her voice trembled a bit as she stuttered, but it was clear she had been aiming for a firmer voice and missed by miles.
“Don’t see why he should want to know, princess, but sure, whatever.”
Fury gave Steve another annoyed look and stalked into everyone’s sight. For a second, Steve panicked – was his boss about to tell on him? – but the bulky man only walked in, a professional greeting on his lips.
“Good afternoon, madam. What can we do for you today?”
“Oh, good afternoon, sir-“
“My name is Nicolas Fury, I own the SHIELD Car Repairs. May I be of service?” he continued pleasantly, a businessman in his heart. And actor in his soul, apparently, because Steve was sure he figured out what was going on from the few words he had heard and from Steve’s cowardice and was now putting up a face.
“Mr.Fury, thank you for your readiness, however I was only just leaving. Your staff was most helpful,” she said, polite and respectful, almost a hint of a kind smile in her tone as if she hadn’t sounded on verge of tears only a moment ago. As if the guys hadn’t been jerks to her, standing up for him and his… ugh, his hurt feelings.
“Very well then. Have a pleasant day. Should I walk you out?”
“I actually already offered to walk Ms. Carter out if that’s alright with ya’,” Pietro quickly stepped in, a voice that hadn’t spoken since she had arrived.
“Thank you for choosing SHIELD Car Repairs, Ms.Carter,” Fury’s voice echoed through the shop, complete silence following for what felt like an eternity.
Steve gulped, knowing all too well Fury was waiting for him to come out of his hiding spot.
And sure enough – the boss’ eye found him the moment he returned. “Mr.Fury-“
“For fuck’s sake, Rogers, don’t pull shit like ‘dat in my shop. And all of ya’ – less chatting, less big-mouthing customers and for fuck’s sake, don’t go jerk into the bathroom now just because a girl in skirt showed up. Get your head in the game… and don’t drop anything on your fucking toes, accidents on a workplace are shit to deal with.”
Steve nodded with fervour, going back to his station, even when he couldn’t say that his head was in the game. No, his head was miles away, with beautiful pouty lips, the sweetest smile and a body to write sonnets for.
When Pietro came back, he didn’t say a word, but Steve could feel him burning a hole in his head with how much he stared.
That night, Steve switched from beer to whiskey, just once, hoping to drown out the sorrow that consumed him at simply hearing her voice.
Two months later, two months of Steve avoiding Maximoff’s diner like a plague and dodging Pietro Maximoff’s attempts to have a minute alone with him, a Good Samaritan left a newspaper on Steve’s doorstep. Steve, utterly confused and bone-tired from the long day at work, lifted it and started flicking through the pages absentmindedly as he went inside of his apartment.
And there, right among the obituaries, were marriage announcements, one single photo from a wedding.
She was stunning in her dress, the fabric appearing as delicate and soft as her skin when Steve had felt it under his rough fingers the day she had asked him to make love to her. A smile, crooked and melancholic, played on Steve’s lips at the memory, her breathless moans echoing in his ears.
In the photo posed a beautiful bride with her husband; and yet, Steve couldn’t make himself think she looked as pretty as she had been when sitting on his bed, misplaced, breath-taking and tempting, as pretty as she had been in the moments of ecstasy he had brought her with his loving; for the first time and for the last time at once.
He abandoned the paper on the counter and poured himself a glass of whiskey, bringing it up, hesitating an inch from his lips.
Eyeing the amber liquid, stirring it in the glass, he recalled a movie he had been to with Buck a long time ago. He had never seen people do it in real life, they certainly hadn’t done that at his ma’s funeral, but it would feel symbolic perhaps; the action of pouring a drink into a freshly dug grave was as outside his reality as the foolish idea of a relationship with her, after all.
Taking the newspaper to his hand once more, straightening the picture, he let himself feast his eyes on her. She was radiant, like sun, like the damn sunflowers on her dress the day he had met her.
Shaking his head, he threw the paper to the trash, picture up. Pouring half the whiskey on it, he buried the bittersweet memory of his untouchable uptown girl;downing the rest, he ignored the burn in his eyes and focused on the one in his throat.
As much as he hated himself for it, his last thought before he fell asleep that night was of her, a minute of wonder if she had ever truly been as affected as he was, at least for a moment; he lulled himself to sleep hoping that perhaps she had.
He dreamed of reaching out to Mrs.Maximoff as she had asked the guys to tell him to do. He dreamed of her being there the next time he came in, with an inviting and yet sad smile, a big-ass diamond on her finger… her cherry-flavoured kiss of goodbye lingering on his lips when he opened his eyes to a new day.
He took the trash out that very morning, adding a half-finished sketch he torn away from his book.
It was the last time he saw her.
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Thank you for reading! Scroll to the end of the fic for notes. ….Or? ;)
◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦ Alternate ending ◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦
That night, Steve switched from beer to whiskey, just once, hoping to drown out the sorrow that consumed him at simply hearing her voice.
In the night of week four turning to week five, Steve’s eyes snapped open to the darkness of his apartment. Momentarily confused, not remembering a nightmare or anything that would cause him to wake up so abruptly, he groaned when he reached for the alarm clock on his nightstand only to find out it was half past one.
He woke up for no fucking reason barely two hours after he went to bed.  
Furious knocks on his door made him jolt, his irritation only growing.
Not without a reason then – some fucker was-- ugh. People were fucking assholes. He was not getting up from his bed for sure.
“Fuck off,” Steve muttered, lying back down face first, determined to ignore-
His door rattled with the force of the next series of knocks and he growled, scrambling to his feet, shuffling to the door and wiping the sleep from his eyes.
“C’min’, comin’, Jesus, fuck.”
Unlocking and opening the door for a slit, Steve stared at the face of his night visitor, absolutely baffled.
“The fuck, Pietro? Do ya’ know wad time ‘zit?”
“No. Do ya’?” the blond retorted, his voice dripping sarcasm and Steve really wanted to shut the door to his face. It was too early – or late – for Steve to deal with that bullshit. “Pack your bags, Rogers, Natasha has a free room.”
Steve briefly wondered when the fuck the world stopped making any goddamn sense, but opened the door fully for his clearly delusional friend. For all Steve knew, Pietro could be having a stroke, he’d better hear him out.
“Huh?” he hummed, his palms massaging his bloodshot eyes. “Da’ fuck are ya’ talkin’ ‘bout?”
“Natasha? My cousin? Remember her?”
Why the hell was Pietro acting as if it was completely normal to stop by a guy’s loft to talk about his cousin, one Steve hadn’t even met?
Steve sighed, humouring the other man. “Yeah? Married some… general or somethin’? What’s ‘dat-”  
“Colonel, yeah. She’s the one who lives in Baltimore. She got a room for ya’,” Pietro repeated, still not making an ounce of sense.
“The fuck’d I do in Baltimore?” Steve asked tiredly, earning a look that told him that it was fucking obvious. Which it wasn’t really, not to him.
…was this a fever dream?
“Open your own shop, dumbass, or find a spot in some. Make money for that pretty gal of yours and that little cute as fuck babies you’ll make.”
Steve’s heart dropped to his stomach at the mention of you, fully prepared to rip Pietro a new one to wake him in the middle of the night to fuck with him—but  he caught a movement to Pietro’s right from a corner of his eye and his heart leaped right back, suddenly sprinting.
This was most definitely a fever dream. Steve felt his jaw drop, his eyes fixing on the vision in front of him as he entirely tuned out Pietro’s next words.
“She must like you real big if she’s willin’ to sell her family nick-nack to look at your ugly mug every day. And skip town and shit…”
And a vision his beautiful uptown girl was, a mirage his mind must have come up, because there was no way she was standing there, sheepish as always, but instead of her dress, wearing a pair of jeans and a simple red blouse, a denim jacket unbuttoned, hanging loosely over her shoulders. Her hair was in a messy ponytail, threw over her left shoulder.  
And shit, she talked too, which made it appear this was in fact real.
“Good evening, Steve. I am sorry to wake you,” she whispered, leaving him stare at her blankly, dumbstruck, breath stuck in his chest.
“I’ll drive ya’, Dr.Strange’s car needs a test ride. Fury’s payin’ for the gas, by the way, the ol’ bastard,” Pietro continued as Steve managed to only watch the woman he had been missing for the past weeks lower her gaze, her teeth anxiously biting on her lower lip, fingers toying with the edges of her jacket. Hers? “I’ll be back by tomorrow afternoon, even have an hour or two to spare. That’s if you start packin’ now, bud.”
The mention of packing snapped Steve from his trance, all the emotions hitting him like a damn truck. Anger, longing, more confusion, restlessness as his girl was standing only few feet away from him and he couldn’t take it anymore.
He took a hesitant step towards her, ignoring the smirking man clearing his path.
“What—what are ya’ doin’ here?” Steve asked incredulously, his inner turmoil reflecting in his voice. She hadn’t showed up for weeks and now-- what exactly was she doing here? “You- you’re engaged-”
Gulping, she looked up, her eyes glistening with unshed tears; yet, a hint of a smile spread on her lips as she shifted her weight from one foot to another. For the first time, Steve also noticed her shoes, a simple pair of sneakers looking bizarre on her feet.
“To a man who loves my best friend and vice versa, my best friend who has been covering for me whenever we were together before it blew to our faces,” she explained, not daring to raise her voice above whisper. Steve still didn’t understand – not fully, unable to comprehend what was happing on his doorstep. Pietro talking about his cousin, about driving, Fury paying for gas, the woman he still loved standing there as if ready to skip town- “She was too covering for me when I talked to Mrs. Maximoff when she helped me to plan this. Pietro said you would want this as well— but- but if you don’t, I will leave you alone. I-“
The day Steve had met the strange girl from uptown, Bucky hadn’t failed to mention Pietro was the fast one, clearly implying Steve was the slow one.
Bucky should have fucking seen Steve now when she hesitated, unsure of his feelings – he had never acted so fast in his whole damn life.
He crossed the distance in one long stride and his hands shot up to her, grabbing her by her shoulders unceremonially. Before she could react, he pulled her body against his with all he got, claiming her mouth like there was no tomorrow.
He swallowed her yelp of surprise, followed by her happy laugh, feeling tears springing from her eyes, causing him to halt just as she finally started kissing him back.
“But your family-“ he blurted out, interrupted by her shaking her head wildly, hair flying.
“Mr. Ross has an eye on my sister. He is from a good family, of good name, generations of lawyers. My family will do splendidly,” she said with a smile playing on her lips, sweet and watery as tears still rolled down her face – happy ones, Steve believed. He felt the same delight bursting in him, switching from a broody cynic back to the fool in love in no time. “And we might too. We will have each other and I have learned enough to teach—or-- or I can be a waitress if I can’t find another job, it doesn’t matter, just so you are not the only one to-“
God, he loved her. She was so adorable and sweet and was talking about being his and going from basically a modern princess to a damn waitress, because she was willing to be with him whatever the fucking cost, apparently--
And was there really anything else he could do?
He grabbed the back of her neck to connect their mouths again, a hungry open-mouthed kiss, his hand fisting in her hair, because holy fuck, how was this happening, she was here and she was his-
“Alright, alright, smoochin’ later, packin’ your friggin’ bags now, Rogers,” Pietro cleared his throat loudly, sounding only as annoyed as amused. “I have a long drive ahead.”
Later, bags hazardously full and piled up in the trunk and on the backseat next to them, Steve couldn’t stop smiling and yet he felt a pang of guilt, ruminating over everything she was giving up.
She was resting her head on his shoulder, their interlaced fingers in his lap and Steve revelled at the absence of an overpriced engagement ring on her hand, the one from his ma’s securely in one of his bags to take place on her finger one day. She was walking the fine line between the real world and the dreamland, breathing softly to the crook of his neck and she seemed content. For now.
He sighed and pressed what could be the hundredth kiss to her hair that night.
“Doll?” he whispered softly, the question burning on his tongue, the only one he could hope to actually have answered now and not after they would try and started a life together.
“Mm?” she hummed softly, nuzzling into him further, her lips brushing the exposed skin on his throat.
“Why me? You could have any of those-“ snobs “-high-class… uptown guys.”
The smile he felt against his skin had him melt into the seat as he chased away all the grim thoughts about what the future might bring, her regretting her decision and blaming him for her ruined life on top of that list.
“Because I love you, Steve, and you are worth ten of them. My amazing downtown guy,” she emphasized, filling Steve’s chest with the most delicious warmth, his heart swelling, feeling so full it might burst.
He knew she wasn’t just saying that – she meant it. If she hadn’t, she wouldn’t’ have been in his arms right now, heading to damn Baltimore with nothing but her bags, little money and few pieces of jewellery.
“I love ya’ too,” he whispered, this time pressing a kiss to her nose, drawing an exhausted giggle from her lips. Yep, his heart was about to burst before they even reached their destination. “Love ya’ so much. My sweet, sweet uptown girl.”
“Not so uptown anymore...”
Steve chuckled as rather than regret, her voice was filled with relief. “I’m willin’ to put up with ‘dat as long as ya’ stay mine.”
She squeezed his hand, tilting her head up, blinking up at him sleepily and softly pressing her lips to his.
“I think that can be arranged.”
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S.R. masterlist
cxptain’s challenge (check it out, prompts are still available - and who doesn’t like the 80′s?)
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Tags:
@wxstedhexrt, @comicshoplife, @elysianecho, @scentedsongrebel, @orions-nebula, @pies-writes-and-more​, @kayteewritessteve​, @murdermornings, @rinkashirikitateku, @queen-kass-the-writer
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….yes, in the first ending, there might have been a chance of our uptown girl planning an escape and Steve aka heartbroken dummy blew it. But hey, maybe not, perhaps she only wanted to say goodbye like he dreamed of… who knows. 
Aaaaanyway.
You are my hero if you finished reading this fic! Thank you so much for finding time to do that, this one truly was a beast – at least when I consider that it WAS supposed to be a one shot. 
Any feedback is appreciated, as always – good, bad (if constructive), coherent or incoherent, or ‘just’ a like if you enjoyed and don’t feel like putting feelings into words. Thanks again for reading!
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