#and when they asked us to move out they gave us at-will tenancy for an additional severl months past the expiration of the lease | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

asset35-maya · 3 years

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I am sleepy but I gotta make a request before the busy tomorrow so 2 things on my mind! Sleepy and the 'oh my god they were roomates' vine xD with any characters and aus I love everything you write anyways xD Happy timezones and best vibes your way >^<!! 💖💞💕💕

Oh my god, they were roommates…

“The rental market in Detroit is absolute shit! How dare these bloodsuckers charge such high rates for the most under-developed properties! This city’s going to the dogs!”

“Uh-huh.”

“You have to pay your own weight in gold just to live in a shoebox for a year. Nonsense!”

“Uh…”

“Are you even listening to me, Tina!

Tina?

Goddamnit Tina!”

Gavin thumped his fist on her desk, but Tina’s eyes barely flicked up from her phone.

“Oh my god, you sound like my grandpa…”

Gavin turned red and his brain buzzed with a thousand colourful retorts. He was just about to pick one when Tina stopped scrolling and turned her phone screen towards him.

CYBERSCALIA @ NEW JERICHO

The suburban paradise for executive androids and humans alike. Located 25 minutes drive from downtown Detroit, with a full amenities.

Gavin’s eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. He balked at her.

“You’re joking? How could I possibly…?”

“Get with the times, boomer…”

Tina lazily skimmed her thumb over the screen. The webpage promised plenty of greenery, good infrastructure and modest but spacious rooms. The extremely reasonable price tag was Gavin’s dream come true. He’d spent weeks apartment hunting in the wake of an early lease termination by his cantankerous landlord. Gavin knew he’d never find a better deal.

“Shit, this is so good, T! Why the phck does it have to be in that- that place!”

His friend arched a sceptical eyebrow.

“What place?”

“The Tincan ghetto!”

Tina smacked him on the arm. None too gently.

“It’s subsided public housing located in an android-friendly estate… because they’re the ones that need it most right now. And frankly, you seem to be in just as much need, so you should really get off that high horse.”

“Fine, fine. You’re right. I should seriously consider this place, even if my neighbours are gonna have more in common with my car than me. But damn, it seems a little too good to be true. There’s probably some fine print, hidden costs that’ll come out later.”

“Hmm… let’s see…”

Tina scrolled further and then let out a half-laugh. She held her phone up again.

“Nothing shady about the rates, but there is something you should know…”

At the risk of being called old again, Gavin squinted at the screen and read aloud.

“Bearing in mind the founding principles of New Jericho, all human occupants may only apply for tenancy in co-habitation with at least one android citizen of the United States of- JESUS PHCKING CHRIST! Absolutely not! I am not going to live with a plastic prick!”

Gavin had to get through half a bottle of wine before he could bear to scroll through the rental listings. Unlike other humans who had happily moved into New Jericho with their android friends or partners, he had to find an android who was also looking for a flatmate.

Some listings came from ardent supporters of Markus. These were the androids who wanted to ease the post-revolution transition by reaching out to humans. Some listings were put up by the android equivalent of frat boys. These individuals were clearly looking for someone on the fringes of human society, someone who could show them a good (if not illegal) time.

Other posts came from eccentric androids who craved company but had likely been rejected by their own kind. Gavin felt a strange twisting sensation, almost like pity, when he came across a post written entirely in third person by someone called Ralph.

He had almost given up hope when he came across a simple little listing for a two bedroom apartment in Cyberscalia.

RK900 #313 248 317 - 87: Seeking a neat, self-sufficient co-renter. Human or android, no preference. I spend most of my time working and will be out of your way for the better part of the day. I only ask for silence during my nighttime stasis cycles, timely payment of dues and upkeep of cleanliness.

Gavin sighed in relief.

“Your room is the first door on the left, mine is the second. The bathroom, laundry and kitchenette are shared, as is the living room. I scarcely find use for the latter, so you need not worry about my intruding on any of your social gatherings, or vice versa. As long as you adhere to the terms of the agreement, our paths will not cross much.”

The tall, stiff-necked android dropped a set of keys, both mechanical and digital, into Gavin’s open palm.

“Er thanks.. RK… sorry I forgot your full model number…”

“You may call me Nines. Although, I’d rather you didn’t call me much of anything. Now if you’ll excuse me.”

In a swish of black fabric, the android turned on his heel and disappeared into his room. Two rapid clicks indicated the shutting and locking of his door.

Gavin sighed and looked around the open-plan living room. It was nothing fancy, but it was far beyond any of the other properties he’d viewed in weeks of unsuccessful house-hunting.

He sat down on the simple black couch with a huff and contemplated his situation. He’d ended up where he’d truly never expected to go, but objectively speaking, things were good… barring the high-handed manner of his robot flatmate, but who gave a shit about that.

He pulled out his phone to text Tina his thanks.

“I can’t! I refuse to! It is a violation of my personal ethics and I will simply not take this assignment any further. Good day to you sir!”

Gavin nearly dropped his bowl of cereal one morning when his roommate burst out of his door and rushed into the open balcony.

He hadn’t seen Nines in days, which was perfectly normal. The android came and went at odd hours and made hardly any noise. It was almost like living alone. The only reminder of Nines’ presence was the sight of several dark shirts and trousers regularly hung out to dry on the rack above the washing machine.

Gavin set his bowl down and watched the android tightly grip the bars of the railing and take several unnecessary breaths to calm down. He’d seen deviant colleagues express emotion many times before, but this was the first time he witnessed such a potent mixture of rage and sorrow from a synthetic being.

Out of empathy, but mostly curiosity, Gavin approached cautiously.

“Hey Nines… is everything alright…?”

There was no response for several moments. Then Nines turned around with a grimace and hands held upwards in a placating gesture.

“I apologise for the disturbance. It was hypocritical of me to disrupt the very peace and quiet I demand of you.”

“Uh… no worries…? Are you okay?”

There was a flash of steel blue eyes.

Gavin kicked himself mentally as he realised too late that he’d broached uncharted territory. Their interactions didn’t extend beyond curt nods on the rare occasion they found each other in the same space. It was almost as if Nines engineered the lack of contact, which wouldn’t surprise Gavin at all if it were the case.

“I’m fine. I merely experienced some frustration with my work.”

Perhaps it was boredom, perhaps it was his usual lack of self-preservative instinct… Gavin threw caution to the winds.

“What do you actually do?”

Nines’ expression remained stoic but his LED went through a spectacular series of colours and flashes. His next words were reluctant.

“I’m a private investigator.”

“Oh shit! I’m actually a cop.”

Gavin pointed dumbly at himself and then let his hand drop when he saw absolutely no surprise cross the android’s face.

“I know. That’s why I let you stay with me.”

“For safety?”

“Certainly not for your fashion sense.”

“Wow okay, I didn’t think I’d be much protection for a big scary droid like you.”

Nines hummed dismissively and started to move out of the balcony, body language fully indicating the end of the conversation.

Unable to help himself for some strange reason, Gavin blurted out another ill-advised question.

“What pissed you off so much?”

Nines paused halfway through side-stepping the human. A thrill went through Gavin at the shards of ice he observed for the first time up close in Nines’ irises.

“If I tell you, will you promise to stop asking pointless questions?”

Gavin nodded earnestly, and frankly… rather foolishly.

“I helped a client gather evidence to initiate divorce proceedings on the grounds of infidelity. I provided ample photo and video evidence for his lawyers to work with. Now they want me to keep following the spouse to capture more details that could gear any future settlement in his favour.”

“So what’s your problem?”

“They’re offering me an incredible amount of cash to follow her 24/7. To stake out her workplace, her gym, her parent’s home. They want me to crouch under the window of the bedroom where her children sleep. I can do a lot of things, but not that. It’s deeply insulting that they even asked. That’s why I was so… pissed.”

Nines slipped past and was nearly back to his bedroom when Gavin spoke.

“I respect that.”

“I didn’t ask.”

“I know, but for real though, I think ethics are important in our line of work. Not just because of we need morals or a sense of right or wrong blablabla, but because we need… clarity.”

Silence floated through the hallway as Nines paused with a hand on his doorframe.

“Clarity?”

“Yeah, like a sense of direction. We don’t just take cases right-left-centre because they make us money. I mean, we could, and people do… but they never become specialists or experts of any kind. You gotta strategise if you want a career. Ethics helps with that. I think…”

Gavin wasn’t sure what made him say any of that. He was neither one for small talk, nor a man of many words… but something about Nines prompted that unusual level of introspective discourse.

“Sorry that was weird. Never mind.”

“That was actually… very astute.”

Their eyes met and Gavin could’ve sworn he saw the hint of a smile.

“It’s good to see that not all humans are as one-dimensional as I thought.”

The door clicked shut, but there was no locking sound.

Since the morning of Nines’ uncharacteristic outburst, the frequency of their encounters in the common areas of the apartment increased. Wordless nods became hellos, and hellos eventually became full sentences.

Not that he’d admit it, Gavin actually looked forward to enquiring about the android’s day and the cases he was working on. It was utterly fascinating to hear about legal investigations without the constraints of police procedure.

For his part, Nines would share as much as he had the patience to, before disappearing into the confines of his room. Though the time he spent outside steadily increased every day.

Another morning, while Gavin was making his coffee, Nines emerged from his room, still in his pyjamas and looking as livid as he had the time before. Gavin had never seen him in anything but crisply ironed businesswear. Before he could voice any concern, Nines stiffly asked Gavin to keep a lookout for a homicide suspect.

He nodded and immediately reached for his phone to text the sergeant on duty at his station. By midday, there was an arrest.

That evening, when Gavin settled in front of the TV with his usual glass of wine, he heard the familiar sound of Nines’ door opening. The couch dipped beside him.

“Thank you.”

“Just did my job. I should thank you for the tip.”

“Hmm.”

Gavin chanced a glance at his roommate, and found him looking right back.

“What?”

“Nothing… I just had the realisation that much of my work is impotent without the authority and means to take any kind of action.”

The sitcom began to play and Gavin thumbed the remote to reduce the volume.

“Takes all kinds to keep the streets clean. PIs can do things cops can’t. We rely on guys like you for intel all the time, you know.”

“I know.”

No words were exchanged for a while thereafter. Gavin found himself unable to focus on the TV show with all the brooding energy emanating from his right.

“If you feel like being a private eye doesn’t make enough of a difference, then why didn’t you… um… you know…”

“Join law enforcement?”

“Yup.”

“Plenty of my fellow androids have done so. I know for a fact that my predecessor model chose to remain there. You might know him.”

“Connor? Yes. Very annoying.”

“He is, isn’t he?”

“Totally. But why didn’t you join too? You’d be brilliant on the Force.”

“My skillset is certainly well-suited, but I didn’t want to become another puppet of the state.”

Gavin really didn’t know what to say to that. He nodded uncertainly and looked back at the television. He wasn’t sure why Nines was suddenly this social.

“What are you… watching?”

Androids could scan and detect just about anything in the world, so there had to be something else to the question. Gavin, strangely, was happy to oblige.

Nines made an appearance every evening, without fail. He would sit through the TV shows if they were of interest, or he would bring his case material and notes to the coffee table to work in silence beside Gavin.

Sometimes Gavin liked to work on jigsaw puzzles on the dining table. Nines would sit beside him, pretending to read a paperback novel, but actually scanning the puzzle and passing the right pieces over from time to time.

Against all odds, an evening ritual and a tentative friendship developed. It was simple, but it was warm. Comfortable. Like nothing Gavin had ever had before, even with humans.

He awoke one morning with a slight crick in his neck but the feeling of being very well-rested.

His eyes flickered open and fell upon the window. Familiar greenery came into view… but wait… had everything slightly shifted to the left? And was that the New Jericho Capitol building? He couldn’t see that from his room! There was a tree in the way! A tree that was now a few feet away from where it used to be.

Gavin sat up in alarm as he realised that he was not in his own bed. His heart flew into his throat as Nines walked through the open doorway. Shirtless and carrying a mug of blue liquid.

“Oh good, you’re up.”

“Wha-what happened!?”

Nines frowned and sat down on the edge of the bed. He set the mug on the floor and pulled on a plain black t-shirt.

“You passed out on the couch last night. I think you finished a whole bottle waiting up for me? Sorry, I was out working later than expected.”

Gavin looked down and sighed in relief as he found all his clothes still on him.

“I didn’t want you to injure yourself sleeping at an odd angle so I brought you here. Your door was locked.”

“You could’ve easily opened it.”

“Yes, but that would’ve been an invasion of privacy. I reserve that for working hours alone.”

Gavin looked deep into the sparkling blue eyes and as usual found no trace of humour.

“Thanks…”

“Don’t mention it. Now get out. You’re ruining my silk sheets.”

Against his best efforts, Gavin could not keep the thought of being carried to bed and tucked in safely out of his mind. How many years had it been? Since something like that had been even remotely possible for him?

He knew that Nines was just being kind in his own pragmatic little way… but Gavin found that he wouldn’t mind the prospect of waking up in the android’s bed in a wildly different context.

He realised he had it bad when Tina caught him smiling to himself at work one day.

“Why so happy?”

“Oh… nothing. Just remembered something my roommate did… He’s a… funny guy.”

“Huh. Well, look at you getting along so well with androids.”

“Android. Singular. Just him.”

“Wowwww… he sounds special.”

“Who did this?”

“Gavin, the damage is merely superficial-”

“Who phcking did this??!”

He reached forward and gingerly touched Nines’ split cheek. His synth skin was smeared with blue blood and glitching in and out. Nines winced at the contact.

“Shit, sorry. That must hurt like a bitch.”

“Androids do not feel pain.”

“Bullshit.”

“I’m merely experiencing a surge in sensory input wherever my chassis is exposed. I’m fine.”

“Shut up and give me your first aid kit or whatever toolbox equivalent you tincans have.”

A shade of embarrassment appeared over the android’s features.

“I… actually don’t have one. I didn’t think I’d ever need it.”

“Didn’t think anyone could kick your ass, huh?”

“No… I didn’t think anyone would ever spot my hiding place.”

“Huh. How’d that happen?”

Nines’ eyes dipped, but as always, he answered the question.

“I was… distracted.”

Something in the air solidified and both of them felt it. Gavin cleared his throat and slapped his knees like an old man about to stand up.

“Right. Let me go check if the neighbours have anything that might help with your face.”

“So who’s this dapper young gent you’ve brought to the party, Gavin?”

“Er… he’s my uh… roommate.”

Captain Fowler nodded and winked.

“That’s what they called it in my day too.”

Nines shifted beside Gavin and cleared his throat.

“He’s a PI. But I think he’s wasting his talent taking pictures of cheating spouses. He’s quite interested in police work. Maybe we could get him to assist on a couple cases now and then?”

Fowler put down his drink and extended a warm hand to Nines.

“Oh thank RA9!”

Nines came running to the cluster of police cars and enveloped him in a giant hug. Gavin laughed as he patted him weakly on the back.

“Watch the ribs, big guy.”

“I was so worried.”

“Why? Your info was good. No chance of error.”

“I meant about you.”

Gavin pulled back and regarded Nines with confusion. The flashing red and blue lights of the cars made it hard to read his LED.

“Why?”

“I can’t believe you have to ask.”

The android pulled him into a bruising kiss. The officers standing nearby broke into wolf-whistles and applause.

“What the-”

“Oh I take full credit for that, sir.”

Fowler glanced at Tina.

“The case, Chen?”

“Oh of course. I solved the whole thing. But I mean that specifically.”

She waved a hand in Gavin and Nines’ direction. The two held each other tightly and seemed unlikely to come up for air anytime soon.

“Like I helped Gav find an affordable place in New Jericho and then he met this handsome investigator droid and they were roommates.”

“Oh my god, they were roommates…”

“Yeah legit.”

\\\

Thanks so much for the request @jude-shotto

This ended up being a lot longer than expected, but I couldn’t help it. Your prompt just took me on a whole journeyyyy <3

#maya bday ask event #reed900 #rk900 #gavin reed #dbh gavin #dbh nines #gavin900 #gavin x nines #gavin x rk900 #dbh fanfic #dbh rk900 #dbh #dbh writing #my writing

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sunkisseddaffodils · 3 years

Text

reunion- pt 2 (final)

Pairing: sherlock x fem!reader

Request: 'hi! can i pls request a sherlock x fem!reader fic in which reader is kinda john's childhood bestfriend, but they were separated when reader with her parents moved somewhere (to united states, for instance). so now when she is in britain again, she sort of struggles with finding a not very fancy place to stay. fortunately, she meets our johnny boi and he immediately proposes for her to stay in 221c, baker-street. so reader moves there, meets sherly and they sorta starting to fall in luv with each other'

Summary: Sherlock accidentally drags up some old unwanted memories for the reader

Genre: reader insert, angst

A/n: this is the final part of the above request. Sorry, I didn't exactly follow the request but I mostly tried to. Thanks to anon for requesting though! Enjoy!

Read pt 1 here.

The following day, after a restless night’s sleep, Y/N sat nervously in Mrs’s Hudson cosy kitchenette. Mrs Hudson had switched on the kettle and was preparing to make both of them a cup of tea. From what John had told her, she was perfectly lovely but she couldn’t help but be anxious. It was in her nature; she worried about everything. She made sure to bring papers to prove to her that she had a monthly income. But what if that wasn’t enough and Mrs Hudson had already decided that she wasn’t good enough to stay in her upstairs flat? The sound of china cups being placed on the table brought her back from the depths of her mind.

‘What brings you to London? John tells me you moved all the way from the States?’

John was right, Mrs Hudson was delightful. Y/N felt more relaxed at the sound of her comforting voice.

‘I’m starting my training next week to be a dentist in Harley Street ’

Mrs Hudson’s eyes genuinely glistened with interest.

‘Oh? John told me you already completed dental school in Seattle? Aren’t you already qualified?’

‘Yeah in the States. To work here, I have to do an extra year before I’m qualified. I don’t mind though, I wanted a fresh start in the UK.’

A door closing behind them interrupted their conversation. Both Y/N and Mrs H turned to where the noise came from but couldn’t see who or what made it. The latter called out.

‘Sherlock? John? Is that you?’

With no response, they returned to their conversation.

‘Y/N, you seem like a lovely young woman with a bright future. Of course, you can stay in the upstairs flat!’

She smiled widely, uttering a thousand ‘thank yous’. Y/N grabbed her important documents and handed them to Mrs Hudson.

‘Thank you. I’ll take a look at these later.’

Tomorrow, Mrs Hudson gave Y/N a tour of 221c. She fell speechless as she looked around. It was the same layout as Sherlock’s but had recently been renovated to have a more modern look. The apartment was already furnished so all she had to do was move her belonging's in from storage. She couldn’t believe that she was able to afford this apartment! Especially, as it was in central London. Promptly, she strolled over to where her new landlady was waiting by the front door.

‘So I get all this for this price? That’s insanely cheap for London.’

Y/N commented while pointing to the tenancy agreement Mrs Hudson was holding.

Simply, she just chuckled.

‘I do special rates for Sherlock and John. If you’re a friend of John’s then you’re a friend of mine. I’ll do the same for you.’

She continued.

'I met Sherlock in Florida when my husband was sentenced to death. He was able to help out so I owed him a favour. ’

Her face was completely serious yet it sounded so implausible. How could a lovely little lady like Mrs Hudson have such an impossible past like that? Adding to that, Y/N wondered that Sherlock really must be a genius if he can stop someone from being executed.

‘Wait, are you saying that Sherlock stopped your husband from being executed?’

‘Oh no, he ensured it.’

And with that bombshell of a statement, Mrs Hudson disappeared downstairs leaving Y/N utterly astonished in her new apartment. She made a note to herself to remind her to ask John about Mrs Hudson’s past. There was so much she wanted to know about her life.

A few days passed and the time finally arrived for Y/N to move into 221c. She was standing outside the cafe with Mrs Hudson, waiting for the moving company to arrive along with her possessions. She glanced at her watch, anxiously. The moving people were already five minutes late. Meanwhile, Sherlock and John were upstairs having carried three boxes between them that Y/N had brought herself. John was busying himself, tidying up the flat, waiting for a text from Y/N so he and Sherlock could help her move in and set up the place. He had told Sherlock to make himself useful but looking over his way, he hadn’t. Sherlock was staring intensely at the three boxes they had placed on the dining table by the windows. John marched over there to tell him off.

‘Sherlock! What are you doing? If you’re not going to make yourself useful up here, then can you at least go downstairs to check what’s taking the mover’s so long?’

Sherlock completely disregarded everything he just said.

‘Look at these three boxes, John. What do they tell you?’

He just groaned.

‘Nothing, they’re just boxes.’

‘Fine, if you’re not going to play ball then I will just tell you.Y/N has made sure she took these boxes here herself. Why? That suggests they’re private and she doesn’t want strangers, i.e the movers, to touch them. The first two boxes are labelled: electronics and toiletries. Makes sense then for why she would want to move them herself: one’s valuable and the others personal.’

He pointed towards the last cardboard box.

‘But why hasn’t she labelled this one? I’m sure I’m right to assume that she would have labelled every single box from what I’ve seen from these two. So what’s in this box that separates it from the rest?’

John stepped away from the dining table and started fluffing some pillows on the couch.

‘Sherlock, I really couldn’t care less. There’s nothing weird going on. She’s not part of some underground crime syndicate. Just leave it alone. You can’t know everything.’

However, the crinkling of tape being peeled off from the box told John that Sherlock, was in fact, not going to leave it alone.

John raced back over to the table and seized the box from Sherlock. Soon, a tug of war for the box began between them.

‘You are not going through Y/N’s private things!’

He yanked the box harder.

‘But John, I have to know what’s in there.’

John glared at him, pulling the box back towards him.

‘Tough luck. Once again let me spell this out: you cannot go through other people’s belongings. It’s rude.’

Sherlock’s grip remained firm, however.

‘Don’t you want to know more about why she’s moved back here? The answer could be in this box. It’s strange that she just packed up and left her life back in Seattle. She obviously doesn’t have any family here. Otherwise, why would she come to you for help? And there’s also the fact I heard her tell Mrs Hudson that she has to do extra training to be a qualified dentist in the UK. Why go to all that effort when she’s already qualified back in the US? Aren’t you in the least bit curious?’

John once again dragged the box back to him.

‘Oh so now you’re not only going through her stuff, you’re also eavesdropping on her?’

Sherlock was offended even though there was a hint of truth to what John was saying.

‘It wasn’t eavesdropping! I just happened to overhear her.’

What Sherlock was saying did make John curious, but still, Y/N deserved her privacy. It was up to her if she wanted to them the real reason she moved back to the UK. John was about to tell Sherlock this when the door burst open.

‘Hey, guys! The movers are here now if you wanna come down.’

Y/N’s voice staggered when she saw the scene before her.

In a moment of alarm, both Sherlock and John had dropped the box. Its content spilt out onto the floor. An off-white ornate picture frame smashed onto the hard wooden floor, glass spraying everywhere. The picture in the frame was of Y/N and a man in front of the Seattle Great Wheel. Y/N stood in surprise as the said man was knelt down holding a rose gold diamond-encrusted ring. The picture frame was custom engraved and it read ‘For my love.’

Oh.

It all made sense now to Sherlock.

However, there was no time to think more about the picture. Sherlock and John stood like a deer in headlights

‘It was Sherlock!’

John pointed accusingly towards Sherlock.

Y/N didn’t say anything, simply walked over to where the box had fallen, glass crunching under converse trainers. She knelt down to pick up the photograph. She remained there for a moment, an expression of profound anguish on her face.

John tried to help her up, but she refused. She practically ran out of the flat, trying to conceal her pain. John didn’t even have time to tell her that she had cut her knees on the glass from the floor. He grabbed a broom from the kitchen and started cleaning up the mess on the floor. He looked at Sherlock who was still in the same place. He had a look of regret on his face.

‘Sherlock there’s no point making that face now! You’re cleaning this mess up too. We’re going to make it up to her by making this apartment look really nice before she comes back.’

As he shifted the box back onto the table, he thought of his own way to make it up to Y/N.

Y/N was falling asleep at her desk, she was now four hours into writing her essay on dental hygiene. She placed her head in her hands, thinking she would just have a quick nap. Her phone ringing ended that plan though. She saw that it was Sherlock and hesitated. She still hadn’t forgiven him for trying to go through her things and bringing back unpleasant memories. It had been a week into ignoring him and giving him the cold shoulder. She let it ring out. Sherlock still didn’t get the hint and texted her.

‘Y/N meet me here. I wanna make it up to you. S.H’

That text was accompanied by a GPS location.

Y/N couldn’t think of any possible reason why Sherlock had asked to meet her here. Her uber ride had stopped outside of a manor house just on the outskirts of London. She quickly checked with the driver to make sure she was at the right place. To her bewilderment, he answered yes. Hesitantly, she strolled up to the door. She didn’t even have to knock when Sherlock opened the door. He motioned for her to follow him.

‘Sherlock, what the actual fuck? Do you live here?’

Sherlock led her through a ton of rooms. Y/N swear she could have counted there were at least five formal living rooms.

‘Nope.’

He opened a set of French doors and led her out into the back garden of the estate. Not that you could call it a garden. It was massive. In the distance, she saw stables as they walked through a formal botanical garden. Sherlock was more like running though, but Y/N didn’t know what was so urgent.

‘So if you don’t live here. Then who does?’

An undesirable thought entered her mind.

‘Don’t tell me you broke in here?’

Sherlock turned around just outside of the exit to the formal gardens, jangling keys in front of her face, a childish grin on his face.

‘It’s not breaking in if you have a set of keys.’

They had finally reached their final destination. Y/N saw that someone had set up a bonfire in the middle of a field. A can of petrol and a box lay adjacent to it. That box seemed really familiar. Sherlock picked it up and brought it over. It was hers!

‘Sherlock, you’re going through my things again. You know what, I’m done here!’

She began jogging back towards the house. Sherlock grabbed her arm.

‘Wait! Y/N. Let me explain.’

She gazed back at him intensely, waiting for an explanation.

He placed the box down.

‘I know you haven’t told me about what happened. But unfortunately, I am good at deducing things. Those things in that box came from a bad past relationship. I’m pretty sure I can guess what happened.’

He started to stammer, not sure of how to word what he wanted to say next.

Y/N wasn’t sure where he was going with this but could see he was trying.

‘John will be the first to let you know that I’m no expert on love or on relationships. But I can see you haven’t moved on. I thought it might help if you chucked all of the old stuff from the relationship on that bonfire and set it alight.’

She looked down, knowing that Sherlock was right. He had guessed everything perfectly. He had read her like a book.

‘You’re right. But I took running away from your problems to the extremest.’

She sat down on the grass, wrapping her arms around her knees. Sherlock shortly joined her.

‘He was my world. Or I thought he was until one night I returned home to see him shagging my best friend on the sofa.’

There was a moment of silence before she continued.

‘I just felt so foolish. I had to get away from Seattle. The place was full of memories of my time with him. I couldn’t stand it any longer.’

Sherlock got up and picked up the box.

‘And that’s why you should burn this stuff. He doesn’t deserve to have this much hold on you when he never cared about you in the slightest. We don’t have to do it if you don’t want to. But please just think about it.’

Y/N stood up with determination. Sherlock was right. She had to burn all of this stuff to finally move on. Together they placed the contents of the box around the bonfire.

Y/N stood back as Sherlock poured the can of petrol over the bonfire. He asked.

‘One more thing. Do you have that picture with you?’

She grabbed it out of her bag as an answer and showed it to him.

‘I thought you would', he stated.

She placed the picture in the centre of the bonfire.

They walked back a safer distance from it and Sherlock got a box of matches from his pocket. He lit one up and handed it to Y/N. He could see that she was having trouble actually lighting the bonfire. He reached out and held her hand to comfort her. Y/N greatly appreciated that. She took the final step and with her other hand, threw the match into the bonfire.

The bonfire went up in ablaze. It was oddly beautiful watching the embers rise up into the sky. Standing there in hand in hand with Sherlock, she felt the weight that had been on her shoulders for months slowly lift off. The whole experience was cathartic.

Out of the blue, they heard the distant sound of alarms ringing from back at the house. Y/N looked to Sherlock for answers. He just told her to:

‘RUN!’

They sprinted, holding onto each other, seemingly heading towards a gate at the end of a stone wall surrounding the estate.

‘Sherlock! What’s going on?’

Sherlock tried his best to explain as they were running.

‘Technically I did break into this house. But it’s my brother's so it should be fine. There should be a cab waiting just outside this gate.’

‘Oh my god!’, she exclaimed worrying about the consequences to come for their actions.

When they had reached the road outside the gate, they stopped to catch their breath. Then they looked at each other and burst into laughter.

She hadn’t laughed that like in months. And it was all thanks to Sherlock.

#sherlock x you #sherlock x y/n #sherlock x reader #sherlock fanfic #sherlock fic #sherlock holmes #sherlock imagine #sherlock fanfiction #sherlock imagines #sherlock holmes x reader #sherlock holmes x you #sherlock au #sherlock x john #bbc sherlock #sherlock bbc #sherlock #john watson #john watson x reader #sherlock and john

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lightsaberupmybutt · 3 years

Text

Three’s a Crowd - Reader/Ben Solo/Poe Damerson (Modern AU)

alright so Ben/Kylo is a big ego kid in this, because of course. Also, Rey is ACTUALLY Lukes daughter in this, making them cousins. Ive fiddled with the plot okay sue me.

Summary: Poe, Finn and their roommate have been living in a harmonious tenancy, but when Finn decides to move out for a year of travelling, the two are left with no option but to look elsewhere for their third body. Rey Skywalker, a friend of the group, proposes her cousin for the role. He's in a band, wears all black and all in all is somewhat of a social reject - but he's also all theyve got.

“I think that one was actually somehow worse than last weeks” You tell Poe, as he pours himself a juice and settles down next to you on the sofa. You'd just finished showing around another possible roommate and you felt exhausted in every sense of the word.

“How can he be worse than the neo nazi?” Poe shot you an unbelieving look and rolled his eyes, kicking his feet up onto the coffee table and knocking some of your papers in his wake.

“Alex was a she, and they asked if they could hang their deer head in the front room” you grimaced even thinking about it, weren't all artsy college students supposed to be vegetarians anyway? why did you have to get saddled with the only blood thirsty one on campus.

“Thats not so bad”

“Poe she showed me a picture of her taxidermied cat”

“Oh”

You had tried to find a polite way to stop her from passing you her phone, but you were too nice to make her feel uncomfortable, and now the image of the long dead tabby would remain behind your eyes for god knows how long.

“was she hot?” You shook your head, causing Poe to sigh wistfully.

“Not hot enough to cancel out her obsession with dead bodies anyway” you informed him, the hopeful look from his eyes gone.

“Face it Poe, were doomed” You let your head fall into your hands, Poe letting out a laugh before wrapping his arm around your shoulder.

“Hey we’ll get someone! who wouldn't want to live here?” You knew his question was rhetorical but when looking around the cleaner than usual flat, you had to admit it was missing something. Bare spaces on the walls from where Finn had taken down his pictures, the empty side of the kitchen counter that had once houses his overpriced coffees. You even missed picking up his empty cups after him, the room feeling like it had less character without them. It truly hadn't felt the same in the flat since Finn had left, and although Poe concealed it well, you could see it was getting to him too. Poe had, after all, known Finn first; Finn managing to get a very drunk and outspoken Poe out of a sticky situation he had found himself in when running across a local gang in a dive bar. The ‘first order’ as they so called themselves, had an infamous reputation around campus for being trouble makers and general doers of bad deeds. Ever since that night they had been an unstoppable duo, until they met you of course, and their duo became three.

You loved Finn, and you knew told miss him like hell, but you also knew that Poe must be feeling that ten times over.

“You wanna do something tonight?” You asked, changing the subject before his mind drifted to where yours had.

“what kind of something?” he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively,

“Gross”

“hey I'm serious!”

“what about Razor Crest, they are open late, we could grab some drinks and meet up with some people”

Razor crest was the only worth while bar in town; it was certainly nothing to write home about, but it played fairly decent music and it had a marginally less sticky floor than others. Additionally, your other friends lived just over from the humble saloon, making it the perfect watering hole for you guys.

It didn't take much convincing before you had Poe out the door and ready to socialise. Upon arrival, he headed to the bar while you were waved over by Rey, who had already found a booth and was already at least a few drinks in.

“Look, i think i have a solution to your roomie problemo” She told you, peeking over her straw, a gleam in her eye that made you feel not all too confident in her yet to be spoken plan.

“Go on” you told her, cautiously.

“My cousins back in town” She told you between gulps.

“The weird one?” You asked,

“Hes not weird, just ...eccentric” the last word was more of a question, but you could tell she was on a roll,

“He's just joined one of the college bands and Auntie Leia says him and Uncle Han are butting heads”

“ah cool, weve always wanted live music in our own flat at 2 am” Poe injected, rejoining the table and placing a drink in front of you before taking a sip of his own.

“hes not BAD at it, he just plays loud i think” She corrected him, “anyway, he's not a total twat, I'm sure he would be considerate of your sleep schedules”

“didn't he try and stab you with a stick when you were five” you asked her, you'd heard stories of this cousin before and none of them were quite savoury,

“that was ages ago! he's like way old now” she was starting to slur her words, but you had a feeling this was something Rey was quite set on. Rey was stubborn, and when she got something in mind she would move hell to make it happen; she was also your best friend, and someone you trusted the judgment off. Had she gotten you into some weird shit in the past? sure.

Did you have any other options; nay on that.

“Fine, get Han or Leia to bring him round at some point next week and one of us will give him a tour” You tell her, and she lets out a little happy shrill at her own personal win. Poe, not so much.

“Speak for yourself, weirdo cousin can see himself around” he crosses his arms and pouts, you give him a little nudge.

“Hey, maybe you'll be best mates” you offer, but when he shoots you a death stare you go back to your drink.

The family turmoil must have been more vicious than Rey had let in on; It was barely the next morning before you had a tall, intimidating male knocking on your door.

“Hey!” you offered him, in as cheery a voice as your hung over self would allow.

He looked down at you from his towering height, but gave no verbal response.

“You must be Ben?...” He offered you the slightest nod you'd had ever seen in response. Okay so, not much of a talker, noted.

You waved him in, shutting the door behind him. God, he looked even bigger inside? is that possible? Rey had failed to mention the sheer height on the boy. You'd seen pictures of her and her aunt and uncle, it seemed like Ben was a scientific and biological mystery. Like how did he get clothes to fit? did he have to shop somewhere special or

you were snapped out of your thoughts by a clearing of a throat.

“So, how much is the rent” so he DID have a voice,

You informed him automatically, still part dazed.

“Ill be in by the weekend” he told you, and with a nod he moved past you, making his way back to the door.

“But wait .. y .. you haven't even seen your room yet?” You stumbled, dumbfound by the lack of foreplay. The previous people you had shown around were full of questions; they wanted to know the ins and outs of the place. Ben had seen all of the door way and the front room and he was already signing the lease.

“See you then” he didn't stop, hand on the door knob as if you hadn't spoken.

“But i don't have your phone number” you don't know why that came to you first, but it was true. At no point had Rey offered you direct contact with Ben, probably assuming he would. It seemed reasonable, that you'd need his number before he moved in, didn't it? Poe was always texting you about random shit in the flat, arguably too much, but it seemed like the norm for people coexisting in such a small space.

He turned back at you and gave you a confused look,

“why would you need my number?”

“erm... to talk to you” your condescending tone not completely masked,

“but ill be living here” he stated, which, he had you there.

Before you could even think of a response he was out the door.

True to his word, Ben had his things over by that very same weekend. Although it was unsurprising considering just how light he packed. In fact, other than his bass and musical equipment, you couldn't really think of anything he had actually brought with him to the flat. You got to meet his parents when they dropped him off, both of whom seemed leaps and bounds more conversational than their son. Ironically, you got Leia’s phone number before her sons; her telling you to message if you ever needed anything. It felt like an indirect jab at Ben, a ‘if he fucks up let me know’, but you digress. The tension between Ben and his dad was blatantly obvious, them sharing no words before he got back into the car and Ben into the house. He did give his mum a small hug goodbye though, and you thought you saw a small tear in her eye before she managed to wipe it away.

Since his move in, Ben had kept painfully to himself. You barely saw him at all in those first days, just heard him through the walls the odd time he dropped something - or saw a plate or cup gone from their places in the kitchen. To be honest , it felt more like a paranormal haunting than a new roommate. Poe was vocal of his apprehension to the situation, sharing glances with you when you would both be in the living room and you'd see ben scurry by or passive aggressively texting you when his favourite cup had been used by someone who wasn't him. it was a relatively small issue, but Poe had blown it so out of proportion that you had ordered a new set of cups from Amazon and sent him the link, shutting him up for a while before he found something else to complain about.

it was the fifth day before you actually bumped into ben again. He was on the sofa with his base set up, twiddling with his amp. The sight surprised you so much you physically jumped back, causing him to look up. crap. act cool. act cool.

“hey” you offered him

“hi” hi replied back, looking back down at his amp.

right, yer. his space, give him his space. Just get your stuff and go back to your room. don't speak to him, leave him alone. he clearly wants to be left alone.

“nice day isn't it” you wanted to cover your mouth, the words coming out against your will. Truthfully, you had no clue why you said it. You hadn't even looked at the weather this morning. Its just what people say right?

“Erm” his eyes shot to the window and then back to yours,”no”

sure enough, it was pissing it down outside. The sky was actually comically grey and you'd have laughed if you werent so angry at yourself. You were unsure of what to do, and he was still looking at you, almost assessing you. His eyes were so serious and dark they felt like they were burning tiny holes into your skin. shit, you had to speak now right?

While regretting every single life decision that had brought you into this kitchen at this time, Poe sauntered into the room like your night in shining armour, ignoring Ben all together and coming straight over to you, placing a big arm around your shoulders. You saw Ben drop his head back down to this bass, and you used all your might to not let out a sigh of relief.

“Tonight, I'm taking you out” He offered, a cheeky gleam in his eye.

“Are you now”

“Razor crest, drinks and dancing, be there or be square” He lists off as if he's a paid promoter, causing you to let out a giggle.

“Whos invited?”

“just the gang” he said, causing you to shoot him an eye roll, knowing full well you ‘gang’ consisted of all of three people, yourself and Poe included in that number.

but then you remembered, there was another person now, whether they liked it or not. Poe’s eyes followed yours to Ben and then back to meet yours again, you saw the realisation change to disgust, as he shook his head silently at you.

you knew this look, the ‘don't you dare’ look, the ‘not in 1000 years’ look. But you couldn't help it, your lips were moving before you could stop them for the second time this morning.

“Are you free tonight, Ben?’

The look of sheer betrayal on Poe's face made you wince, surely he'd understand right? he knew you well enough to know your verbal diarrhoea problem.

Ben didn't even look up, but he did let out a small laugh that felt quite antagonistic.

“i dont go to Razor Crest”

“i don't go to razor crest ugh” Poe mocked, causing Rey to let out a hysterical giggle, and you a sigh.

You'd been out for all of three hours and you were all already feeling the effects of the alcohol. It was late and the bar was jam packed with students all raring to go. Poe had been making eyes at one particular red head almost all night and you were half surprised he hadn't already made his move. Poe put out, it was a fact. You and Finn had at one time made a fridge chart for him, a gold star awarded every time he brought girl home. Whether the goal was to make him feel proud of his conquests or embarrassed, you still weren't 100% sure, but after a month or so you had both lost count and given up. You told yourself it didn't bother you, that he was just a friend, and that he owed you nothing, but every time he left you at the bar for another girl something stung inside; something you pushed deep down but regrettably was still there none the less.

Sure enough, as the night progressed, you and Rey ended up fending for it alone, and instead of feeling sorry for yourself you decided to do the responsible thing and drink more.

After the third round of shots, Rey calls it in.

“I think I'm gonna be sick” she tells you sheepishly, and you can't help but belly laugh in response. She starts to shuffle towards the door and you go to follow.

“Hey don't leave on my behalf” she tells you earnestly, but you wave her off.

“Nah I've had my fill, I'm starting to forget which flat number i live at” you tell her, causing her to giggle this time.

You both stumble out the bar, past the smokers and up the cobbled road towards her flat. She unlocks her door and lets herself in, not before giving you a drunken hug and a sloppy kiss on the cheek.

As you ready yourself to make your way back to your own flat, you come back past the bar entrance; a particularly prominent cobble causes you to trip ever so slightly and gain a whoop from a group of boys who were passing round a box of marlboro straights.

You suddenly realised just how dark it was and just how alone you were. Most nights you wouldn't stay out this late, and if you did, then you'd normally be walking back with finn. You let out a shiver, a mix of both the cold night air finally breaking through your drunken daze and a smidge of fear. The Razor Crests entrance lights were getting progressively further away, and although you know that you only had a maximum of a half mile walk back to your home, it felt like ample distance to get kidnapped or murdered in, most probably both.

How many true crime stories started with a young drunk girl, scantily clad and out alone at night? You could hear the police reports now, which photo would they use? you prayed it would be a hot one, at the very least one after your thin brow phase.

Being literally bumped back into reality, in almost a cruel humorous way, you felt yourself walk head first into a figure, their arms coming out to catch you as the sheer momentum bounced you back.

Oh god, I'm dead. I'm literally going to die.

“Hey, chill out” The voice made your heart beat both slow and race again,

“Ben?!” you shrieked, voice hoarse through pure anticipation of your thought to be demise

“Are you okay” he asked, and only then did you realise you were shaking like a leaf.

“Im fine” you let out in a small voice, looking down at your shoes. You could feel the redness in your cheeks through pure embarrassment alone. This was not an ideal situation for him to see you in, and you kind of started to with that he had been a murderer, at least then you wouldn't have to deal with the second hand embarrassment in the morning.

“What are you doing out here”

“why are you out alone”

you both asked simultaneously,

“I was coming out for a smoke” He told you, flashing his tobacco pouch at you from inside his coat. His very warm looking coat, might you add. Another shiver ran down your body.

“Im coming home from Razor Crest” you tell him, trying to be matter of fact but slurring your words just enough to spoil the show.

“Yes obviously, but why are you alone” he shoots back in some what of a patronising tone, it wouldn't sit well with sober you and it definitely doesn't go down well with drunk you.

“Im a big girl”

“clearly” he makes, making extra sure to look you up and down from his towering distance above you, causing you to huff.

“well i can take care of myself”

“you shouldn't be out alone around here, its not safe” he ignores your response, looking you dead in the eye.

You feel something inside you flutter, a warmth that you can't quite control. Okay, ben might be weird and a bit annoying it would seem, but he was handsome, thats for sure. The limited light danced off his strong features and dark shaggy mop of hair, making him look both dangerous and appealing.

As if you were standing here mentally flirting with the idea of being with Res cousin; you made a mental note to punish yourself for the ludicrous thoughts in the morning.

“Okay well I'm going home now” you tell him, attempting to push past him, but his large hand finds its way to your forearm and pulls you back,

“yes, you are, come on” If what he said before was patronising, he was now speaking to you like you were a dog he was walking.

“go have your nicotine, ive got this one covered” you tell him with a mock salute, causing him to roll his eyes. He lets go of your arm and you take your win, trying to step confidently away without falling. You're proud of yourself for handling the situation when you realise he's following all of 10 steps behind you, rolling a cigarette in his hands while holding a filter between his teeth.

when he catches you looking, he nods down to his hands,

“want one?” he mumbles between his lips, still holding the filter pride of place.

“no thanks” you snap, picking up pace.

Ben smirks at you, but you miss it, too focused on not embarrassing yourself and keeping your feet in line.

#Star Wars #Star Wars imagine #star wars modern au #kylo ren #kylo ren imagine #kylo ren x reader #Ben solo #ben solo x reader #ben solo x y/n #poe dameron #poe dameron x reader

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emospritelet · 3 years

Text

Twisted Fate - chapter 26

Last time, Gold started to suspect that Neal might be his long-lost son. Here's what happened next

[AO3]

Belle left hospital the next day, Gideon strapped to her chest in a sling while Gold wheeled the suitcase beside her. The day was pleasantly warm, sun on her face as she walked to the car, and it felt good to be out in the fresh air and away from the hospital, with its hurrying staff and constant noise. She was still in pain, and far more tired than she had expected to be, but she stopped off in the lobby of the apartment building to let Marco coo over Gideon and comment on how much he looked like his father. Gold had a tiny smile on his face all the way up in the elevator.

It was a relief to sleep in what she now thought of as their bed, Gold spooned around her and his scent in her nose. Gideon woke them in the night, but Gold kissed her shoulder and whispered that she should rest. She still lay awake listening anxiously until he got back into bed and assured her that Gideon was fed, changed and sleeping again. There was an urge to go and check on him herself, but she told herself firmly to trust Gold to take care of his son, and her body was tired and sore enough that she soon drifted off.

Gold woke early, just as dawn was greying the sky, and tiptoed from the room to make a pot of coffee and check in on Gideon. Quiet as he was, Belle was stirring when he put his head around the bedroom door, and so he handed Gideon to her to feed before returning to the kitchen to pour out the coffee and make a hearty breakfast.

The first few days were hectic as they tried to adjust to their new life, establishing as much of a routine for Gideon as they could. Gold was enjoying being a father again, and fully intended to do the best job he could. Belle was clearly exhausted, and so he tried to ease the burden as much as possible, letting her nap with Gideon while he cleaned up, made dinner and baked. In between his chores, he dealt with work matters, giving instructions to Mr Dove in relation to rent or enforcement matters, assessing collateral for loans over video calls and countersigning a new tenancy agreement. He got up to feed and change Gideon in the middle of the night, hoping that Belle would get some much-needed rest. A small voice at the back of his mind told him that he, too, needed to rest, but sleep was elusive and his mind far too preoccupied to notice his building exhaustion.

He had been a ball of nervous energy ever since he and Belle had had the conversation about Neal. Getting his family settled into their home held his attention for the daylight hours, but once he was lying in bed, his mind was let loose to agonise over every possible worst case scenario it could dream up. The day after their return he was alert to every noise outside the apartment, every suggestion that a knock might sound and the Cassidys be outside. The knock never came, and over dinner the following evening, Belle mentioned that she had received a text from Emma. Henry had developed a bad cold, and Neal and Emma thought it best that they not visit and run the risk of passing it on to Gideon.

“I’m sorry he’s not well,” said Gold, an odd mixture of despair and relief rippling through him and pricking at his skin. “I’m sure they’ll come over soon. I’ll make a carrot cake this weekend. Maybe some chocolate cupcakes. Just in case they show up.”

Belle gave him a level look, as though she wasn’t fooled by his easy tone. She probably wasn’t.

“This must be hard for you,” she said quietly, and Gold put down his fork, abandoning his pretence at equilibrium.

“I still don’t know what the hell I’m gonna say to him,” he admitted. “How do I even raise the subject? Cupcake, Neal? Oh, by the way, did your mother ever mention that your father was Scottish? Kind of short? Me?”

He grimaced, running his hands over his face, and stilled at the warm pressure of Belle’s hand on his arm. He spread his fingers to gaze out through them into calm blue eyes.

“There isn’t going to be an easy way to do this,” she said gently. “But you could always try talking about your past, see if anything resonates with him.”

The fingers snapped shut, hiding her from his sight, and Gold sighed heavily before dropping his hands back to the table and sitting back.

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “That seems - more natural, I suppose.”

“You could always ask Archie for advice,” she suggested, and he nodded.

“That’s true. Although we don’t know whether there’s anything there to ask advice about yet.”

“I suppose.”

“If there is…” Gold sat forwards again, threading his fingers together nervously. “If there is, if Neal really is my son, I have a feeling Dr Hopper will be seeing a lot more of my money.”

Belle smiled, squeezing his arm again.

“A worthy investment, wouldn’t you say?”

“If it gets me a good relationship with my family, absolutely.” He gave her a tiny smile, and she beamed, her eyes gleaming.

“It’s already doing that,” she said softly. “I’m proud of you. Facing your pain, your past, your fears… it’s a brave thing to do.”

He smiled, her words making his heart swell with love, even as he endured the discomfort of unexpected praise.

“Well, I have many years of cowardice to make up for,” he said, with an awkward smile.

Belle gave him a somewhat sad smile in return before sitting back, and there was a moment of silence. He picked up his fork again, cutting into the slice of almond cake and spearing it with the tines.

“What about you?” he asked. “Did your father say when he’d be visiting?”

Belle nodded as she cut a piece of her own cake.

“He said next Monday,” she said. “It’s usually a slow day in the shop, so he’s gonna close up at noon after he’s dealt with the flower delivery, and drive down. We’re planning to meet at four-thirty.”

“Ah.” Gold popped the piece of cake into his mouth, enjoying the soft sweetness of ground almonds and the tang of orange zest. “Well, he’s welcome to stay, of course.”

Belle eyed him over her fork, but shook her head.

“He’s only coming down for the day, and to be honest I think that’s a good idea,” she said. “I said I’d meet him at the diner by the park, and I think it’s best if it’s just me and Gideon. I thought we could go for a walk and get something to eat. That’s probably enough contact for both of us at this stage.”

“As you wish,” he said, secretly relieved at not having to play nice with Moe French.

“Depending on how this first visit goes, he might be staying over in future, though,” she added.

“Of course.”

“And you never know,” she said, spearing another piece of cake. “Maybe one day we’ll move back to Storybrooke. You, me, Gid, and - well, we’ll see how things go.”

She gave him a secretive little smile, and for a moment he envisioned entering the pink house with several small children racing past him to fill the place with life and love and laughter. He smiled back.

“That sounds wonderful.”

Belle was enjoying motherhood, but she wondered how single mothers coped alone. Gold had been amazing, racing around the house keeping it clean and tidy, cooking delicious meals for the two of them and helping to feed and change Gideon. He insisted on being the one to get up during the night, even as she said they should take it in turns, but she had to admit that it was a relief to get some rest as her body recovered. He made cakes and cookies and brought her breakfast in bed while she fed Gideon, and made sure she wanted for nothing.

She was worried that he was doing too much; she caught him napping on the couch one afternoon with a pile of laundry in his lap, hands buried in Gideon’s sleep suits and head back against the cushions. She had let him sleep, tiptoeing through to the kitchen to make some tea, and made the dinner herself that evening.

As the time drew nearer for her father’s visit, she found herself getting nervous, and Gideon seemed to pick up on it, growing fractious as she dressed him for the trip outside.

“You sure you don’t want me to come?” asked Gold, helping her get him into the stroller, and Belle shook her head.

“It’s fine, really,” she said. “I’m sure he’ll be okay once we’re out and he’s got something new to look at.”

“In that case,” he said. “I’ll make something nice for when you get back.”

“You always do.”

“Well, something special, then,” he said. “What would you like?”

Belle pursed her lips.

“A full night’s sleep and a foot rub?”

He grinned.

“Consider it done.”

“I’ll be eating about five-thirty,” she added. “So I won’t want anything for dinner, but I’ll probably feel like curling up with a glass of wine and something stodgy.”

“I’m sure I can think of something.”

He finished tucking Gideon in, and kissed his cheek before straightening up to kiss Belle. She clung to him a little longer than usual, and he squeezed her tight.

“It’ll be okay,” he said softly. “And I’m only a phone call away if you need me.”

She nodded, taking a deep, fortifying breath, and set her hands to the stroller, pushing it towards the elevator. Glancing back over her shoulder, she could see Gold watching her from the doorway, and she gave him a reassuring smile as she pressed the elevator call button, hoping for a positive outcome.

The apartment was eerily silent without either Belle or Gideon, and Gold didn’t like it. He busied himself cleaning up, folding a freshly-washed pile of laundry and vacuuming the floors. He also made up a pan of chicken casserole, adding a generous glass of red wine, and set it to a low simmer while he pondered what else to cook. He made some bread, pummelling the dough briskly before setting it aside to rise, and wiped flour-covered hands on his apron before poking through the store cupboard again. Belle had mentioned wanting something stodgy to eat, so he decided to make a pan of brownies.

By the time he had finished mixing the batter and put the tin in the oven, it was a quarter to six. He poured himself a glass of the wine and took a large gulp, one toe tapping on the floor as he wondered how Belle’s dinner with her father was going. He hadn’t received a distressed phone call, so he had to assume she was fine. She was more than capable of standing up to her father, but he hoped that wouldn’t be necessary. Surely not even Moe French could maintain his bad attitude when he got to hold Gideon.

A knock at the apartment door made him start, and he set down his glass, wiping his hands on his apron and grasping his cane to head for the door. Looking out through the spy hole, he paused as Neal’s face glanced up, his figure distorted by the curve of the lens. Gold’s heart started thumping high in his throat, blood pounding, and he swallowed, his throat dry, the handle gripped tight. His hand shook as he opened the door, and he licked his lips nervously as Neal grinned at him, hefting what looked like a leather laptop bag up a little further on his shoulder.

“Hello, Neal,” said Gold, unsure where his calm tone had come from, but relieved that he sounded normal.

“Hey,” said Neal, patting the bag. “Belle asked Emma to pick her up a couple of books from the university library. I said I’d drop ‘em off on my way home, since I was in the area.”

Gold made a decision.

“Please, come on in,” he said, stepping back and holding open the door. “Belle’s out at the moment, but you’re welcome to wait. I could make some coffee. Or I’ve opened the wine, if you’d prefer a glass of that.”

Neal’s eyes brightened.

“Really? Wouldn’t say no, it’s been a hell of a day.”

He stepped into the apartment, and Gold closed the door behind him, following him into the kitchen and trying to calm his racing heart. Neal shrugged off the strap of his bag, putting it on the table with a heavy thump of books and wriggling his shoulder.

“Belle should try e-books,” he said. “Less chance of a dislocated shoulder.”

Gold chuckled at that.

“I offered to get her one, but she prefers the feel and smell of real books,” he said, getting a second glass from the cupboard and pouring a measure of wine. “Not that she’s had all that much time to read lately.”

“No, I guess not. Thanks.” Neal took the wine. “You say she’ll be back soon?”

“She took Gideon to go and meet her father, but I’m expecting her back in the next half hour or so.”

“You didn’t go too?” asked Neal, and Gold pulled a face.

“Let’s just say that the peace between the two of them is new and fragile, and my presence really wouldn’t help that.”

“Yeah, I pretty much heard her dad’s a tool,” said Neal, making Gold grin.

“My opinion of him is fairly low, but I have to say the feeling’s mutual.”

“Guess you can’t choose your family,” said Neal, and took a drink. “Wow! That’s nice!”

“A favourite of mine.” Gold hesitated, turning the glass between his fingers. “How’s Henry?”

“Yeah, he’s a lot better,” said Neal. “Totally snot-free, happy to say. We thought we might come over Friday, if you’re up for having visitors.”

“I’m sure we’d love that.”

Another pause. Gold took a mouthful of wine, feeling his pulse thud in his throat, his skin tingling. He almost choked as he swallowed, and blinked rapidly, his eyes watering.

“You okay?” asked Neal. “Went down the wrong way?”

“Yes. Uh - shall we go through to the lounge?”

Gold gestured awkwardly towards the kitchen door, and Neal wandered off, leaving him to follow on feet that felt as though they were made of steel plates. It was a relief to sit down, and he had to stop himself from tapping his feet restlessly as he turned the glass between his hands and tried to think of something to say. Neal was good enough to break the heavy silence.

“How’s life with Gideon?” he asked, and Gold smiled.

“He doesn’t give us a lot of time to sit and take a breath, that’s for certain,” he said, “But it’s wonderful. I’m incredibly lucky.”

“You’re enjoying being a dad again, huh?”

“Very much.”

“Is it like you remember?” asked Neal, and Gold hesitated. Here, at last, was an opening. An opportunity.

“With my first son,” he said. “I wasn’t there for the first eighteen months of his life. A little like you and Henry.”

“Oh really?”

“Yes.” Gold looked down at his wine, deep red rippling catching tiny specks of light. “It wasn’t by choice, I might add.”

“I’m gonna take a wild guess and say you weren’t in jail,” said Neal, and he smiled.

“No, not jail. Unless of course you count the one of my own making.”

“Deep.”

“Pompous. Sorry.”

Neal chuckled, and Gold took a drink of wine.

“His mother and I weren’t suited,” he said then. “We were never in a proper relationship, and I wasn’t surprised when she left town. But then she came back two years later, with a child. My child, so she said.”

“You think she was lying?”

“No,” he said immediately. “No, I knew he was mine. At least - at least I thought that I knew. I could - I could feel it.”

He tapped his closed fist against his heart, and Neal watched him silently. Gold gave a tiny shrug.

“Of course I wanted to give him everything I hadn’t - that is - I wanted to do the best for my son as I could,” he said, floundering a little. “I worked hard, earned a good wage - unfortunately, that meant spending more time at work, and less time at home. Milah didn’t appreciate being, in her words: ‘stuck indoors all day with a screaming brat’.”

Neal had gone very still.

“Did you say Milah?” he asked neutrally.

“My ex,” said Gold, wishing his heart would stop thumping so hard. “Anyway, I came home one day, and she’d gone. I suppose I shouldn’t have been surprised at that, but I never thought she’d take him. I never thought…” He cut off, ducking his head. “I never thought I’d lose him.”

Neal took a swallow of wine, and Gold squeezed his glass in an attempt to still his trembling hands.

“What happened?” asked Neal.

“Well, I found out that without being named as his father, I had no right to find out what had happened to him,” he said wearily. “So I had to search alone. She moved around a lot: from Scotland to England, and eventually, to the US. The last place I could trace them to was Social Services in Phoenix. She’d left him there. Said she’d come back and never did.”

Neal shook his head, looking stunned.

“So - so what happened?” he asked. “Did you find him?”

“No.” Gold eyed him steadily. “No, he’d gone. Run away. I was three months too late. I kept searching, but there were no more leads. He knew how to hide, it seemed.”

Neal swallowed hard, and set down his glass.

“You said you weren’t named as the father,” he said. “So his name wasn’t Gold, right?”

“No,” said Gold. “His last name was Bonny, after his mother.”

Neal pushed to his feet in a rush, agitation making his nostrils flare.

“Who told you my mother was called that?” he demanded. “Was it Emma? What did she say? How did you know that?”

“What?” Gold shook his head, an invisible hand squeezing at his heart and leaving him breathless. “I don’t - Emma didn’t tell me anything, I just - well, I remember Milah’s name, of course I do. And - and your name is Cassidy.”

“Because I changed it!” Neal began to pace, running a hand through his hair and looking shattered. “I don’t - I can’t…”

He shook his head, stomping towards the door.

“No, please!” said Gold desperately, pushing to his feet. “Please, don’t go, I just - I need you to listen for a moment.”

“I can’t!”

“Please!” he urged. “Please, my son’s name is Bailey. Bailey Stephen Bonny. He was born on the first of May, twenty-nine years ago, and - and I’ve been searching for him ever since he disappeared, ever since his mother took him from me.”

“This is - this isn’t possible.” Neal shook his head, looking devastated. “This can’t be real. I have to - I have to go, I have to think.”

“No, wait!”

His hand was on the door handle, and Gold had reached out, wanting to touch him, desperate to touch him. He drew back at the last minute, pain clawing at his chest, as though his heart was trying to tear its way out. Neal’s knuckles were white on the handle, his body shaking with tension, and Gold blinked tears from his eyes.

“Is it you, Bae?” he whispered, his voice breaking a little. “Is it really you?”

The name on his tongue seemed to break whatever spell had fallen over them, and Neal wrenched at the door, barging out into the corridor and slamming it shut behind him. Gold sagged, shoulders slumping as he gripped the cane handle to hold himself upright. It’s him. It’s my son. My Bae.

#fic: twisted fate #rumbelle fic #rumbelle #my fic

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mymoonagedaydream · 4 years

Text

Domestic Bliss (Part 1)

Summary: A long-term undercover mission in the suburbs doesn’t sound so bad- until you find out who you’re going with.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x y/n

Word Count: 1k

Warnings: Bit of language, nothing too severe

Author’s Note: Hello! Thanks for reading- this is my first attempt at writing fanfiction, any support would be really appreciated :) Next parts will be coming soon.

---

‘Alright gang, here’s a little something we’ve been gifted by SHIELD.’

Tony unceremoniously dropped the pile of manilla envelopes he’d had tucked under his arm onto the table and gestured for everyone to take one. He very rarely summoned the entire team to the conference table, and even when he did most of you didn’t bother turning up. There were only so many times you could sit through one of Banner’s lectures about... physics, probably.

You grabbed one of the envelopes and slid another to Natasha beside you. They were thick, heavy.

‘Some of their little agents have decided to be proactive, bless their hearts, and they think they’ve tracked a human trafficking ring to a house Upstate. But, here’s the kicker, they also seem to think it’s too dangerous to send in bog standard uniform drones for recon- apparently this particular group is notorious for wanting to play bazookas with anyone who pisses them off.’

‘We taking orders from SHIELD now?’ Sam asked, without looking up from the envelope he was tearing open.

‘Not orders, requests. Only the fun ones though.’ Sam’s eyes darted up to Stark, where they were met with a sarcastic smile.

Steve was looking over the documents with his typical intense concern. ‘So you want us to do recon?’

‘Um not you, tights. We’ve managed to get hold of one of the other houses on the street and we’re going to need a constant, inconspicuous presence there. This is probably going to end up as a long-term undercover operation, even SHIELD aren’t stupid enough to ask me to send in one of the most recognisable faces in America. But thanks for coming.’

Looking a bit dejected, Steve dropped the papers back onto the table and folded his arms over his chest.

‘It’s alright Cap,’ you piped in with a smirk, ‘the rest of us don’t get your astounding discounts on wholesale Lycra. There’s pros and cons to being famous.’

Steve narrowed his eyes at you and tried to suppress a smile. Looking back down at the papers you skimmed over the details. Middle class residential area, mostly families and elderly couples, the last place you’d think to look for an international crime syndicate. Suppose that was the point.

‘Who do you have in mind then?’ Steve asked.

With a smug smile, Stark’s eyes slowly moved to settle on Bucky, who was flicking through the sheets far too quickly to take in any of the information. Steve followed Tony’s gaze, and the sudden silence in the room caused you, Nat and Sam to look up from your papers and do the same.

It took a good few seconds longer than it should have for Bucky to notice that everyone around the table was staring at him in silence. As soon as he looked up you could tell that he hadn’t been listening to a word Tony had said.

Your working relationship with Bucky so far had been strained, to say the least. Steve brought him to the compound a few months ago but, even before he arrived, you dreaded having to live alongside the Winter Soldier. Just listening to Tony explain his backstory to the team brought back horrific memories of your past in Hydra. You’d tried so hard to forget everything they’d put you through- being face to face with their greatest asset everyday would be all but unbearable.

‘Whatta you say MK Ultra? Up for trying the sweet life in the suburbs for a while? Get some fresh air through your metal slat thingies?’

‘Why in the hell do you want me on this?’ Bucky was looking at Tony with genuine disbelief, mixed with a hint of annoyance, probably at the fact he’d have to do something other than spend all his time in the compound’s gym.

‘Oh come on, tin man. You can handle yourself against crazies with weapons and, most importantly, you’re the least recognisable person here.’

Bucky whacked his metal arm down on the table in front of him and glared at Tony, deadpan.

‘Ah, I’ve thought of that too.’ With another signature smug smile in Bucky’s direction, Tony reached into his pocket and took out a small silver hoop, which he unclasped into two halves held together by a hinge. ‘Put it on your wrist.’

‘What the hell is it?’

Tony waved his hand exasperatedly towards the unclasped hoop. Everyone around the table was staring at it, mystified. Bucky grabbed it cautiously, placed it around his left wrist and reluctantly snapped it shut.

Immediately, hundreds of tiny green squares emerged from the device in a growing sheet, creating a solid layer which settled snugly against his silver arm. After a few seconds it began changing, filling with colour and details. You couldn’t believe your eyes. Tony’s device had created a digital layer of skin over the metal arm- a convincing layer of skin, too. Bucky raised both hands in front of his face and stared at them, speechless.

‘Do they make those to go around necks?’ chucked Nat. ‘I wouldn’t mind putting a different face over Clint’s occasionally.’

Tony carried on talking about something- probably explaining the intricacies of the device, not that anyone cared or understood- but you couldn’t focus on anything he was saying. Your eyes were fixed on Bucky. You realised that, before now, you’d never seen him smile. Sure, you’d seen the typical tight lipped, polite expression that he gave when passing people in the corridor and you’d seen him smirk at Steve’s goofy jokes, but across the table from you, still staring at his hands, Bucky was grinning. Beaming. You didn’t know why, but it made you feel warm. It made you feel-

‘Y/N!’

You blinked back to reality.

‘You back with us kid? I’m sure I put “no recreational drugs unless you share with the whole group” on your tenancy agreement.’

‘Very funny, Stark.’ You retorted. ‘I’m working on three hours sleep here, what is it you need?’

‘Are you up for it?’

‘For what?’

‘You and the Manchurian Candidate, domestic bliss?’

You furrowed your brows, half expecting Tony to burst out laughing and mock you for believing him. But he didn’t. You frantically looked around the other faces at the table, finding all of them intentionally averting their eyes from you.

Apart from Bucky.

He was looking at you, still grinning.

---

Part Two

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#bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky imagine #bucky fanfiction #bucky fic #bucky fluff #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fluff #marvel fanfiction #marvel fic #marvel imagine

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megjgrey · 3 years

Text

6:03PM

Every night at 6:03pm the music starts.

The first night we heard it, it annoyed us. After an entire day packed with moving boxes and driving miles to move more boxes, the both of us were weary, heavy-limbed and pitiful creatures with somehow more to unpack than we could’ve sworn we’d had initially.

I was halfway through filling a dresser with clothes we should’ve donated years ago when it began. At first I didn’t even notice, intent on what I was doing and assuming in the back of my mind it was emanating from the apartment above us, or next to us. The ceilings were high, but the walls of the building deceptively thin, despite what the realtor had assured us when we’d first viewed the place.

The base was a steady, three-note bop, something between synth and electrowave. It was something you could swear you’d heard before, but could never place. Too similar to most music of the genre, yet unidentifiable.

It was only after we’d heard the same notes repeating for over 10 mins that we really began noticing it. And it was really only after 12 mins straight of the music that we began to seek its origin.

We fanned out, scouring the apartment, ear to walls, necks bent in awkward angles. We’d catch the edge of it and follow until it grew louder, both of us culminating at the two windows in the front room. We looked out, across the resident’s parking lot, to the park opposite.

The trees were alive.

Dark limbs of unknown origins would detach themselves from the hedges before slipping back in. Laughter could be heard from across the field, the same three notes droning out beside them.

We breathed out. Just kids. We’d been afraid it would turn out to be rowdy neighbours we’d have to deal with for our entire tenancy. But if it was just kids in the park at night for lack of anything better to do, we could manage that. They’d get bored; move on to something else in a few nights or so, surely.

We were too optimistic, we later realized.

It was relentless. 6.03pm on the dot, every night, all night. The repetitive music, the maniacal laughter, we’d go to sleep and wake up with it still resounding in our heads to accompany us the rest of the day, until that night, when it would begin again.

We lasted a week before we called the police. We waited, peaking behind the curtains, as the cruiser pulled up and two pairs of torches beamed off into the trees. We snickered between us - that’ll teach those brats, it was never anything a quick brush with the law couldn’t solve.

Minutes later when the police knocked on our door and told us they’d found nothing we stared back in disbelief. How had they not heard the laughter, the music, seen the shadows in the trees - ?

The older officer hung back as they made to leave, his voice quietening, eyes shifting. We weren’t the first to call about it, he told us. Then why has nothing been done? we asked, Why not lock the park after dark or – The officer shook his head, pupils scanning the apartment building surrounding us. It would do no good, he replied, it’s not kids out there, not any more.

He left.

It was only through our own research, later, that we were able to piece together something that we were not entirely satisfied with, but an answer we could possibly live with.

The apartment building had been refurbished, an article told us, from a mental asylum that had burnt down a few years ago. The fire had demolished the interior and left nothing but the charred exoskeleton, the historic splendour of which had drawn us to the building in the first place.

The cause of the fire was unknown, but it had later been revealed that some village youth had been using the previously abandoned building for raves most nights, the night of the fire having been no exception. Fragments of some had been discovered, missing person posters what were remained of others.

It was the fine print at the bottom of the article that gave us pause.

The inquiry had estimated that the fire had commenced around 6:03 pm the night in question.

__________________________

just trying to get those brain juices flowing again. our first night in the asylum was loud to say the least.

#writings #short story

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tuanhood · 4 years

Text

the property manager

pairing: landlord’s son!mark tuan x reader

genre: smut, angst, fluff, kinda everything, strangers(?) to lovers

warnings: 18+, language, power imbalance (kinda yes?), oral sex (male receiving), face f*cking, thigh riding, dirty talk, unprotected sex.

word count: 7,400+

summary: when you get a letter from your landlord about a rent increase, you decide your only option is to try to talk to his property manager and son, Mark.

a/n: um i have nothing to say. actually yes i do. this is kinda of ALL over the place so i’m sorry about that and if it doesn’t make much seNSE but i just had a craving to wrITE THIS! leave me alone. thx bye.

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It had been a stressful day at work. You wanted nothing more than to go upstairs to your apartment and climb into bed.

You had been all over the city looking for a specific kind of cake that your boss had consumed almost a year ago and couldn’t remember where it had been. More often than not, you found yourself doing ridiculous chores as a personal assistant and after the first year you had told yourself it would get better, but it hadn’t. You thought you could prove yourself and get more recognition, possibly working your way to a bigger role at the entertainment company you worked for, but as time passed it seemed more like a dead-end.

Which is why you were considering quitting and looking for something else. You had connections through friends and old contacts, but you weren’t sure if it was worth it to see if they would ultimately pan out or not.

Checking your mail, you flipped through the letters finding mostly bills, until your eyes settled on a letter addressed to you from your landlord and his son, the property manager.

NOTICE OF RENT INCREASE

Dear Tenant,

Due to general cost increases, we are required to increase your rent. This letter is to advise you formally that your rent is being increased to $1,250 per month as of next month.

This increase does not affect any of our mutual obligations under your lease. For example, your rent due date will remain the first of the month or before.

Thank you for your understanding of the cost pressures on us as we do those upon yourself. We appreciate your tenancy and hope you will remain for a long time.

Best regards,

Raymond Tuan | Landlord

Mark Tuan | Property Manager

You read the letter three times. How could they increase your monthly rent by almost three hundred dollars? You had just enough each month to pay for your already overpriced apartment. But perhaps what annoyed you the most was the short notice and their attitude in the letter. They thank you for your understanding and appreciate you, and yet gave you barely any notice for a $250 increase in rent.

It took you a moment to collect yourself, especially after such an exhausting day, but somehow you found yourself marching upstairs to the second floor and angrily knocking on the door of Mark, the landlord’s son and property manager.

There’s no response at first, and you swear you hear noises coming from the apartment, but soon all that’s heard is silence. All of a sudden you hear a “Just one sec!” being yelled through the door along with shuffling.

Before today you hadn’t really paid much attention to Mark. Being the property manager, you of course had met him when you first moved into your apartment over a year ago and often saw him in the building. You would exchange pleasantries when you passed him in the hallway or ran into him when he was getting his mail. But you had never really known much about him besides the fact that his father was the owner of the building and he was there to make sure things ran smoothly in case tenants needed anything.

There was supposedly one interaction you had with him that you found yourself barely remembering. It had been a late night after drinking and your friends had decided to dump you in the hallway of your building, leaving you to fend for yourself and make your own way upstairs to your apartment. The memories you had were hazy, but you could picture yourself sitting on the floor inside of the building’s entry way, drunkenly sobbing about how you were never going to make it home.

The only reason you thought you had interacted with Mark was because the next thing you knew you woke up in bed with a note resting on your bedside table.

Y/N,

Remember to take an ibuprofen or two when you wake up, along with A LOT – and I repeat – A LOT of water. Thanks again for the… uh compliments and I hope you feel better.

- Mark

That was months ago and you had no clue what “compliments” you’d said to him or he fact that Mark was even the one who helped you up to your apartment and into bed. After that you were very adamant about avoiding conversation with him.

When the door finally swung open you were met with Mark’s sweaty face, some of his hair sticking to his forehead and his breath a little shallow. You wondered if he had been working out based on his appearance. Craning your head, you attempted to look past him into his apartment to locate any evidence that could confirm or deny this suspicion, but he followed your motions, blocking the view inside.

“Um what’s up?” He asked.

“It’s about this letter,” you began, but Mark soon stuck his finger out and began shaking it as if remembering something. “Apartment 8A right?”

You nodded simply, “yeah… that’s me. Anyways-”

“You have that cute doormat out front with the kittens on it,” he stated more as a fact rather than a question. You found yourself nodding again and his interruptions led you to believe that he may never let you speak.

“Listen Mark… I got the letter from you and your dad-”

“The landlord,” he corrected and you felt your teeth clench at another intrusion of your sentence. He waved his hand as if to say “go on,” which inherently caused you to crack your knuckles in frustration.

“I got the letter from you and the landlord,” you repeated, this time correcting yourself which Mark smiled at, “and I don’t see how you can increase rent starting next month.”

He furrowed his eyebrows and crossed his arms, leaning against his open doorway, “what do you mean you can’t see it? We wrote it in the letter.”

You looked at him blankly, and couldn’t understand if he was teasing you or if he was actually dumb. Judging by the way he had a slight frown on his face, head tilted to the side and lines forming between his eyebrows, you had your answer.

“No yes, I see that. I just don’t understand how you would even decide to increase the rent $300.”

“We didn’t. It’s only a $250 increase.”

Only?

That made you angry.

“Do you understand that to some people that’s a lot of money? It’s not easy for everyone to just find an extra $250 a month. I already overpay for my shoebox; I don’t see how I’m going to be able to give you an extra $250 this month at such a short notice or really… every month for that matter.”

Mark clicked his tongue as if thinking of some sort of solution for you until he simply shrugged, “then find a new place to live I guess?”

The tone of his voice didn’t come off as rude or with an attitude. More or less, he said it as if he was just thinking of an “easy” solution to your problem. It almost seemed like Mark had no perception of actual issues that people are often plagued with.

“Mark how the fuck am I supposed to find a new place to live by the end of the month?” He doesn’t flinch at your tone or language, but simply countered back, “okay then… so stay.”

You groaned in frustration. You couldn’t imagine how the other people in your building dealt with broken appliances or faulty plumbing if this was who they had to come talk to.

“Can’t you talk to him about it? Or at least give more of a notice?” You found yourself willing to even be okay with just an extension of the increase. Maybe you’d finally get a promotion or recognition at work, or maybe you could look into getting another job as an assistant.

“Sorry… My hands are tied,” Mark murmured, uncrossing his folded arms as if he thought the visual of seeing his hands would make the statement more believable.

“He’s your dad! He owns the whole goddamn building. What do you mean your hands are tied?” You jabbed.

His face shifted, and it almost seemed like he felt sorry for you, “that stuff isn’t really up to me… It’s up to him.”

You found yourself tapping your foot in irritation and as you found perhaps a new way to reason with him, “I mean you don’t really want to pay that much more a month, do you?” Mark just looks at you confused, once again, “I live here for free… I’m the property manager.”

“Okay yeah or do you live here for free because he’s your dad?”

He shook his head in protest, “No I definitely live here for free because I’m the property manager.”

“Listen let’s just talk about this more. Can I come in? I’m sure I can convince you that it doesn’t make sense to raise the-” Just as you were about to push yourself past him, he positioned himself forward to stop you.

“Is there some kind of problem?” You asked.

“I- You can’t come in,” he frowned.

“I just want to talk!” You explained, throwing your hands up in desperation. What was this guy not understanding? Wasn’t he supposed to be here to answer to the tenants needs and make sure things were running smoothly? Even if it meant you having a nice sit down in his apartment to chat about how you were going to murder him if he kept acting so clueless about the rent raise?

“We can talk out here.”

“Well I have a lot to say.”

“Oh, I know that,” Mark pressed, rolling his eyes a bit. He thinks back to when he found you drunk in the hallway crying. He panicked because he thought you had been hurt or something bad had happened, but you were just completely wasted. As he had hoisted you up off the ground and into his arms, carrying you – not completely willing – to your apartment, you had begun to talk his ear off.

Most of what you had blabbed on about was how miserable you were at your job and how much you just wanted to quit, but soon as he reached the second flight of stairs, he heard you change subjects. Instead, the topic of conversation became about him and his dating life.

“Do you have a girlfriend?” You had asked. Mark remained silent, using that as his answer, “because I never see you with one. Which is crazy since you have such a well-defined jawline.”

“Um thank you?” Was the only response he had found to be acceptable.

You continued, “If you were my boyfriend – but you’re not don’t worry – I would tell you how good your jaw was all the time. Aren’t I nice? Wouldn’t I make a nice girlfriend? I think so, but some people don’t think so…” You drifted off; the sadness evident in your voice.

Mark had found the conversation you were having – pretty much with yourself – funny and by the time you reached the front door of your place, he realized he didn’t want it to stop. You had begun to search your bag for your keys, which you would stop doing ever so often to begin talking about something else, getting distracted and ultimately forgetting about the task at hand.

By the time you had both made it inside, it felt like hours had passed and you wandered to the kitchen, Mark following behind closely, wanting to make sure you were okay. “Do you want something to eat? It’s around that time, huh? Like for a late-night snack?”

He shook his head at you, “Y/N, I think you should head to bed,” Mark was concerned to say the least for your body as you had told him somewhere between the first flight of stairs and the second that you had work in the morning. You had ignored him, “what kind of animal do you think you are in a relationship? For me I think I’m… a cat. No, no actually I’m more like a kitten, because I can be playful and energetic, but I still have that “leave me alone” energy, ya know? I bet you’re something cute like a puppy or I don’t know gopher?”

He hadn’t even argued with you about what being a gopher in a relationship meant or how it was a cute thing to be. Somehow, he had convinced you amidst your next rant that heading to bed was indeed a good idea. As soon as your body had hit the mattress, you were fast asleep and he managed to find a piece of paper to leave you a note for the next morning.

After that, Mark thought maybe the two of you would become friends. Which looking back at, Mark suddenly thought it was a lame thing to think. He didn’t have many friends or people he truly knew in the building as most tenants just saw him as an extension of the landlord – his father – and didn’t really treat him like an individual. More like a spoiled brat.

However, as months went by and you avoided his gaze in the hallway, he could tell that your drunk escapade had been forgotten altogether. Now looking at you frustrated, a raise in rent being the only reason for you to come and talk to him, he felt sick to his stomach, because he thought you were different somehow.

“It’ll only take a second I swear,” you muttered, and somewhere lost in his thoughts, Mark didn’t have a moment to react at your swiftness to push pass him into his apartment. “Wait stop, don’t!” He protested, turning around quickly to see you looking around his place.

You took it in and you were surprised. For some reason you had pictured it to be much bigger since he was the landlord’s son, but it was probably only a few square feet bigger than your own apartment. The next thing that left you bewildered was how clean and organized it was. Every apartment that you had been that belonged to a male, often looked ransacked as if a thief had been through. However, when you turned your head towards his living space, a simple couch and coffee table positioned in front of a TV, that was when you felt your eyes widen the most.

Up on the screen of the TV was a paused video of a woman on her kneeling in front of a man, mid blowjob. Okay so he wasn’t working out when I knocked on the door, you conclude. Seeing the image on the screen and Mark’s bright red, panicked face looking for the remote on the couch, surprisingly doesn’t make you feel disgusted or awkward. It makes you feel… intrigued?

“I- uh, fuck- I- I’m sorry. I don’t- I don’t know what to say,” Mark stuttered after he finally finds the remote and switched off the television.

“I’m guessing that’s why you didn’t want me to come in?��

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, clearly nervous, “yeah…”

You suddenly felt bad for barging into Mark’s place uninvited when he had clearly been in the middle of a personal moment, so you figured it would be best to make the situation as uncomfortable as possible. You wanted to show him that you didn’t care about what he had been doing before you knocked on the door, and there was no reason to feel weird about it. It was natural after all. So somehow you found yourself flopping down on the armchair perpendicular to the couch, making yourself comfortable, attempting to “lighten the mood.”

“Sorry,” you apologized, “but don’t worry, I don’t care. What you do on your own time is your own personal business, not mine.” Mark brought one of his hands to the back of his neck and massaged it as if the new found situation causes him enormous amounts of stress. Which he certainly believed it did.

You didn’t want to come across as rude or nosey, but for some reason that original impression of being intrigued finds its way back into your mind, “aren’t you supposed to be available 24/7? Shouldn’t you be prepared for something like this? I don’t know shouldn’t you always be expecting someone to knock on your door?”

For the first time since entering the apartment, Mark gave you attitude, “It’s not like I’m expecting them to barge their way into my place.”

“Still you should at least turn off your TV! Or I don’t know watch it on your laptop or phone? I honestly don’t know anyone who watches porn on their TV anymore,” your back and forth diffuses the situation somehow as Mark finally moved closer to where you’re sitting and he leaned against the side of the couch.

“Well why else would I use the TV?”

“I don’t know to watch literally anything else?” You yelled out to him. He moved around the couch to sit down, “that was a joke,” he explained.

You laughed and he joins you, grateful that this isn’t as terrible as he expected it to be. It’s when the laughing finally subsides that you feel your eyes drift down to the crotch of the grey sweats he’s wearing. You know it should be the last thing you’re thinking about in this moment, but as he shifts his weight on the couch to get comfortable, you swear you can just make out the outline of his cock. It causes you to squirm in your seat and you instinctively pressed your legs together not wanting to think about it.

After a moment, “Um… back to the rent… Like I said there’s really nothing I can do Y/N.”

As he brings the discussion back to the original topic at hand, he runs his hands through his hair once again, and it’s then you take notice of the veins that are clearly on display on his forearm. The sight of them makes you press your legs together even more, your mind soon drifting to how breathless Mark was when he first opened the door. You wonder how close he had been before you had interrupted him, how his hair had probably stuck to his forehead and how hard his hand must have been working to pump himself at the sight of the porn actress blowing the guy she was in the scene with.

What was Mark into? What kind of porn was it? How did the woman in the scene find herself in that position? So willing and compliant? Had she needed something from him? Like you needed something from Mark?

You feel yourself grow wet at the thought of what situation you and Mark would be in if this was porn. He would be your only option to getting what you want and being able to stay, so you’d put him in your mouth and let him fuck your face to convince him.

“Hello? Are you there?” Mark asked suddenly, waving his hand in front of your face from the couch.

Getting lost in your erotic haze, you feel as though you should think twice for what you’re about to do, but you feel so turned on by the idea and sitting here knowing what Mark had been doing right before you entered couldn’t make you stop yourself.

Mark watched you get off the chair you had been sitting on and slipping yourself in between the couch and coffee table. He looks at you with his head tilted to the sight and eyebrows furrowed, unsure of what you were doing. As you sink down to your knees in front of him, he feels his cock twitch in his sweats. He thinks he surely must be mistaken.

“W-What are you doing?” He asked, his breath hitched.

You looked at him innocently, placing your hands on his thighs, “what does it look like I’m doing? Let me convince you that you shouldn’t raise the rent.”

He feels like his heart has stopped beating and that maybe this is all a dream, an erotic fantasy and his mind is just drifting off. That he’s actually still fixated in front of the video he was watching earlier with his hand rubbing up and down his length.

Mark had to be honest with himself, he had never been a situation like this before and his mind was running a thousand miles a minute trying to figure out what the right way of going about this was. Not that there is a right way, he thought to himself.

He knows that he shouldn’t even be in this situation and that it’s his own damn fault for somehow not stopping you from entering his apartment, but he can’t help but look at you so willing for him and wonder what if?

Immediately he shook his head and decided to put a stop to this. He didn’t want this to take advantage of you.

“Y/N, I-I don’t think we should do this. I don’t want you to think that I’m using you or taking advantage of you because of-” you cut him off, sharp as a knife. “If you don’t think we should do this, then why are you hard?”

At your words, Mark finally acknowledges how hard he’s become at the sight of you being so obedient for him and he feels his cheeks grow red, “I-I-” he began to stammer, perplexed by the uncertainty he felt.

He wanted this, oh god how he wanted this, but he didn’t want you to feel like you had to do this.

As if you read his mind, you interrupted his daze, “Mark I’m doing this because I want this, trust me,” you found yourself rolling your eyes at him, “just let me play the role of desperate tenant who’s willing to do anything to stay, okay?”

Mark nodded wordlessly, and realizes all he can do is take your word for what it was and trust you. Allowing himself to do so, he felt freed from his thought filled head and finally be in the moment. The moment where all you wanted was to suck him off.

At this allowance, you drifted your hands up Mark’s thighs to the elastic waistband of his sweatpants to finally expose his hard cock. Your tongue darted out to lick your lips instinctively, feeling a pulse in your core at the sight. He positioned himself closer to the edge of the couch as you moved forward enough on your knees to breathe on the head of his cock, “fuck,” he hummed.

Licking your lips one last time, you parted them to suck lightly at the tip. Your tongue slipped out from your lips to lick around the head, moving in slow strides and glancing up to find Mark staring down at you. At his gaze, you felt yourself involuntarily whimper at how innocent he looked as if he couldn’t believe that this was happening which to a certain degree you couldn’t either.

Never had you imagined in all the times you passed by him in the building that you’d be in this position, your tongue dragging up and down his length slowly. Now, you would let him fuck your face however much and however hard he wants.

You take more than just the head into your mouth, coating his length with saliva and letting your lips glide against the sensitive skin. “So good,” you heard Mark softly murmur and the quiet praise made you want to take even more of him into your mouth.

It doesn’t go unnoticed to Mark at how you move a little faster or take more of his length in every time he words how good you are. He wonders what else you would want to hear. You continued your rhythm, bobbing your head up and down, forgetting about everything else. All that mattered to you was hearing Mark’s moans and his praise he hoarsely whispered. You were pulled out of your trance as Mark gripped a handful of hair to pull you off of him. You whined, but liked his sudden force.

He chuckled and you noticed how different his eyes now looked. Before, his hesitancy to the situation shined through them, but now they were glossy and much darker. It was almost as though Mark had been replaced while you had him in your mouth.

“Just look at you, so fucking eager. So ready to get down on your knees for me to get what you want… so greedy to have as much of me as you can. As much as it takes.”

This new Mark was certainly doing things for you.

“Mark fuck my face,” you practically groaned. For a moment you see a glimpse back to the Mark who had been looking down at you innocently just a little while ago, but soon you’re once again met with this new Mark who was so sure of himself and seemed like he enjoyed being in control.

He smirked, “what did I do to deserve such a good girl?”

Without hesitation, Mark stands up in front of you and shoves himself back into your mouth, slowly wanting you to feel him in every part of your mouth the same way you would feel him later.

“How bad do you want to stay?” He asked, pushing himself in further until all of him was in your mouth, feeling him at the back of your throat “I know you can take it all kitten.”

At the pet name, you moaned around him, not being able to hold it back. Your reaction caused him to begin thrusting himself into your mouth, his hand going to grasp the back of your head, setting a harsh pace and thrusting quickly, he groaned at the sound of you choking on him. As tears began to form in the corner of your eyes, Mark wondered if he should ease up and began to slow down. You noticed this and simply reached your hand up to rub his leg gently as a sign for him to continue.

He soon returned to his original pace and kept his eyes fixated on himself going in and out of your mouth. He felt himself grow closer and closer to release, especially when he thought about how compliant you were being for him, how you had been the one to initiate this and how if your mouth felt this good, your pussy would feel even better.

The thought brings him to cum in your mouth, and he becomes embarrassed at how sudden his climax was. Part of Mark thinks you’ll be mad, but part of him also thinks that maybe that’s what you wanted all along.

The latter thought proved to be correct as you took all of his release in your mouth with ease and swallow, showing him your tongue as proof of a job well done.

Mark’s heart skipped a beat.

You smiled at the bewildered look on Mark’s face and used the back of your hand to wipe the saliva and cum that had dripped onto your chin and lips during Mark’s brutal plunge into your mouth.

Mark felt overwhelmed with exhaustion as a result from his orgasm and collapsed onto the couch behind him, spreading his legs and shutting his eyes after pulling his sweats back on. At his actions, you stood up from your space on the floor in front of him and watched him for a moment.

Fuck, he really is beautiful, you found yourself thinking. How peaceful and pristine he looked post-climax made you want to take care of him and just run your fingers through his hair until he was fast asleep.

The sudden want caused you to feel like that maybe it was your cue to leave Mark’s apartment. However, just as you turned to go, you feel Mark grabbing your wrist from his spot on the couch. “Hold on just give me a minute,” he mumbled with his eyes still closed.

You scanned your eyes back and forth around the room, and noticed the “best uncle ever!” drawing sitting against one of the bookshelves in the corner. You took this as your second sign to leave this man’s apartment.

“Fine if you can’t wait one minute while I put myself together, just have at it I guess,” Mark stammered, gesturing to his lap as he felt your attempt to leave once again.

His eyes are still closed, therefore you’re not sure if he’s even aware of his words and movements, “uh… what?” In that moment, Mark shot his eyes open quickly, “My thigh. Ride it,” he said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Being honest with yourself, you hadn’t expected this little rendezvous or whatever it was with Mark to include more than him fucking your face. When you had seen the length and size of him through his sweatpants along with what he had been watching before you angrily knocked on his door, all you could think about was getting him in your mouth. You hadn’t considered your own needs for even a second. The sudden realization of this made you think you were going insane.

Mark pats his lap and set you into a blur of removing your pants, hesitantly setting yourself down on his thigh. It’s almost as though he could sense your uncertainty and he positioned you down onto him, grasping your hips to move them back and forth slowly. He does this for a moment and you let out a groan at the friction you feel against your core. “Can I kiss you?” Mark asked you with his head leaning against the back of the couch, hands still grasped on your sides.

Your practically snorted at his request, “asks the guy who’s already had me swallow his cum.” He brings his head up instantly as if shocked and ready to defend himself to you, “I’m sorry okay!? I couldn’t help myself,” he paused and quietly, “you were too good.”

You feel yourself smile at his praise once again and you nodded your head, “of course you can kiss me Mark.”

“Okay I just had to make sure!”

“You know I’m not a prostitute, right?”

“I-I know! That’s not what I meant! I meant-” You cut him off laughing, stopping your movement on him completely to collect yourself, “Mark I’m fucking with you. Don’t worry.”

“That’s not very nice,” Mark huffed.

You placed your hands at the back of his neck and pull him closer to you, “now kiss me you idiot.” You could have sworn you heard him mutter something like “that’s still not very nice,” but as soon as his lips reached yours for the first time of the night all other thoughts left your head. The contact was enough to leave you lightheaded, and with every lick and bite of your lips you felt yourself instinctively begin to move your hips again.

Mark’s kisses trailed from your lips to you jaw to your neck, and his soft sucking, along with the feeling of your clit rubbing against him through your panties caused you to forcefully grip onto Mark’s broad shoulders. The feeling overcoming you from the way grinding on just Mark’s thigh felt and the way he was sucking that spot on your neck, caused you to what nothing more than to reach your high fast and hard. You wanted to completely fall apart from riding this gorgeous man’s thigh and let him know how good it felt.

Mark unattached himself from your skin and simply laid his head and arms back down on the couch as he had done when he was exhausted. He became so transfixed in your grinding on him and all he wanted to do in the moment was enjoy the show.

Arms still on his shoulders, “Mark,” you moaned, suddenly wishing you had even less than just your panties between and his sweats between the two of you.

“Show me how much you want it. Show me how much you want to stay so you can ride my thigh every single day,” at his words, Mark tensed his thigh and your eyes immediately shoot open at the new feeling that overwhelms you further. Mark is already hard again at the sight of you getting yourself off by using him and he realizes that he would be okay with you using him as much as you want, whenever you want.

Mark’s hands wander forward from the couch and begin to trail themselves up and down your body, playing with your breasts through your shirt and palming them softly. It’s when he reaches around to the back of your panties and pulls them tighter against you body that you feel the high you had been chasing begin to hit you. The material riding up, gives your clit the final bit of friction you need to send you spiraling into an orgasm.

You let out a final “Fuck!” as exclamation as your fingernails dig into Mark’s shoulders, your head falling backwards and causing your breath to catch in your throat. Mark’s hands returned to your hips, grinding you down onto him to make you ride out the aftershocks that course through you.

“Fuck,” you heard Mark say as you fell forward into his arms, “that was so fucking hot.”

He rubbed your back soothingly and you smiled into his shoulder at his response to you just having an orgasm from his thigh. “Hotter than the porno you were watching?”

He playfully hits your back, “Way hotter, trust me.”

When you finally regain strength, you lifted yourself off of Mark’s chest and looked down to notice the dark patch on his grey sweats where you had been pressing yourself against him. You looked away from him, face growing hot from embarrassment. Mark tilted your chin towards him, “aw did my kitten leave behind a mess?” he asked you cooing in a soft voice.

Despite reaching orgasm only moments ago, you feel the space between your legs begin to drip with arousal once again and judging on Mark’s demeanor, he can sense it.

He pressed himself further against you until you can feel his hardness against the side of your own thigh, “does she want more?” Once again in a Mark Tuan induced trance, you nod your head mindlessly.

In a haze of motions and movement, Mark pulled you off of his lap to remove his sweats, his cock springing free and looking painfully hard and ready to be inside of you. You lick your lips at the thought and it’s not until Mark pats his lap for you to get back on that you realize he wants you to ride him.

Any other situation you would jump at the opportunity, loving the control, but you whined at him still feeling a bit spent from working yourself against him before, “can we do more of a ‘you put most of the work in’ kind of position?”

He puts his hands up jokingly as if surrendering, “okay, okay, okay.”

You lay down with your back against the couch, removing your shirt and bra as Mark goes to the bathroom to retrieve a condom, but to your dismay he comes back holding an empty box, flipping it upside down to show you the issue.

“Wow are you that busy?” You asked Mark, then suddenly it occurs to you that maybe you should have asked if he as a girlfriend. Mark didn’t really seem to be the kind of guy that would do that to someone.

He shakes his head, “no, it’s just… It’s been a long time okay? And there used to be more than half a box left, but I’m pretty sure all of my friends have secretly been taking them when they’re here, because how else could they disappear if I haven’t had sex with anyone in forever?”

It’s clear that Mark’s worked up by the situation and isn’t sure what to do, so you try your best to calm him down, giggling at his demeanor, “Mark it’s fine. I have an IUD, don’t worry.”

“What?” He asked.

You rolled your eyes at him, what was up with this kid? “An IUD… an Intrauterine d-”

“I know what an IUD is! I just meant… you still want to have sex with me even though I’m dumb and all my friends apparently take my condoms?”

You swear your heart swells at innocent Mark appearing in front of you once again and you laugh again, “well I have to show you how much I want to stay, right?” You wiggled your hips at him from down on the couch and sighed contently, “plus I just really need you inside of me or else I feel like I’m going to explode.”

Mark laughed at you and throws the empty condom box to the side of the couch, which he climbs back on positioning himself in between your legs, “yes ma’am.”

He gently ran his index finger up and down, over your clothed entrance, the feeling causing you to shiver. Mark smirked at your reaction and pushes underneath your underwear until he rubs his finger directly over your slit, letting it collect your wetness. When he removes it, you whimper at the feeling and he places his digit into his mouth to taste you.

He let out a lustful sound at your taste, “my kitten tastes just like candy. I could spend all day with my head in between your legs and I will, but I need to be inside you. Now.” At his emphasis on wanting to sink into you, Mark for some reason decided that it would make more sense to use his hands to rip apart your underwear to grant him entrance rather than simply taking them off of you. You made a mental note to give him shit for it later. $250 and new underwear? No thanks.

Delicately, Mark lifts both of your legs up until they’re situated on each of his shoulders. You feel yourself exposed to him in a new way, his cock brushing against you slit, making you feel the need to beg for him to enter you. At his pause, you tried to slide yourself down towards him impatiently, but he holds in you in place, “I thought you were tired?” Mark smirked right before he enters you slightly. Only part of him is in, but you groaned at the stretch.

“Fuck kitten, are you even going to be able to take me?” Mark wondered out loud.

He continued to push into you, and your body adjusted itself to get used to the way he was stretching you and the way he was filling you so deliciously. You barely ever went without a condom despite your IUD, but with a lack of barrier separating you and Mark and the sensation it brought, you found yourself wanting him to enter you like this as many times as he wanted.

He pushed himself forward until he bottoms out, fully inside of you and groaned. He starts off slow and you whimpered, just wanting to feel him pound into you already. You think you’re going to cry at how you can feel him practically everywhere and in every single part of your body, when he has barely even moved. Mark feels himself go dizzy at how tight you are around him. It’s bordering on painful, the squeeze of your walls around his cock, but he doesn’t really care as he listens to the sounds leaving your mouth asking him to move faster.

Mark’s pace picked up and as he thrusts into you at a faster and faster rate, your lifted legs move with him and your knees practically begin to hit your chest every time he pulls back to delve into you again. With the angle his plummeting into you at, it’s not long before he hits your sweet spot and as you shutting your eyes tightly, unable to focus on anything except how good it feels. It’s when Mark’s hands leave your hips and wander to your breasts, cupping them, swirling your nipples in between his thumb and index finger that you feel yourself clench dangerously hard around Mark. He moaned, feeling like he could cum again at any minute, but he held himself off wanting to make sure he had taken care of you first.

“Are you sure you don’t just want me?” Mark asked in his gruff, low voice, his probing into you giving no sign of stopping, “Are you sure you just didn’t want to feel me inside you this whole time? You don’t care about staying or going, you just wanted to feel yourself wrapped around me. Be honest.” At his words you let out more lustful sounds, unable to form any real response due to how fucked out you felt. Mark, however, wouldn’t take your silence at an answer as he thrusts in even harder, “Be. Honest.”

It’s then when he pushes you over the edge, and you feel your second orgasm of the night course through you. “Mark… F-fuck Mark, oh god I- fuck,” you pant at the same time your walls squeezed around Mark one final time, your lower body arching off of the couch. For Mark, that’s all it takes for him to reach the peak of his own orgasm, the sight of you falling apart in front of him. You feel him release himself inside of you, feeling him make you so full with his warm cum coating your walls.

As you caught your breath from your own climax, you watch Mark come down from his, making note of the final noise he lets out before he almost collapses himself on top of you. He pulls himself out of you and lowers your legs from his shoulder, a soreness that wasn’t present during the fucking starting to make itself known in your body.

You feel more exhausted than you had after your first orgasm and you don’t even realize you closed your eyes until you feel Mark nudging your shoulder gently with his hand, “huh?” you mumbled, half-aware.

“I’m going to clean you up, is that okay?” Mark asked tentatively.

For probably the hundredth time of the night you wanted to laugh at the boy. He had already fucked you, but he still felt the need to ask if it was okay to do things like clean you up.

Okay he was cute.

Nodding at him, you feel Mark wiping up the mess he made inside of you that was beginning to seep out. When he’s finished, he lifts your legs and sits down on the couch beside your laying body, dropping your legs over his lap. He caresses them.

There’s a peaceful moment between the two of you and it’s nice, it soothes you and you feel yourself drifting off once again, but Mark interrupts your fall into slumber, “you know I probably could talk to my dad about everything.” At this point you didn’t care about the money anymore, and you hoped Mark truly knew that the rent wasn’t the reason why you fucked him.

Using your legs, you playfully kick Mark, “I really don’t care about that anymore. This was worth way more than $250.”

He chuckled, “Like how much? $500?”

You hummed in thought, “I honestly couldn’t even put a price on it if you held a gun to my head.”

“Dark… but I get it.”

There’s another moment of silence and you take this as your chance to fall asleep, but suddenly you feel yourself being lifted off of the couch and into Mark’s arms, “where are you taking me?”

“My room, so you don’t have to fall asleep on an uncomfortable and overpriced couch.”

Your eyes shoot open, “so you think it’s overpriced too!” He shakes head at you playfully in protest and lays you down on his bed when he enters his room. You can’t help but inhale the scent around you. It smells like him.

He sits down beside you and places a kiss on your forehead, “I’m still going to talk to my dad regardless. It’s kind of ridiculous.” A smile slowly starts to creep up on your face just as you agree with him, “Okay, okay. Fine!”

“Now get some rest.” You felt the weight shift up on the bed, signaling Mark’s departure, but instantly with your eyes still closed, you reached out to grab his wrist, “wake me up in twenty minutes for another round, okay?”

He clicked his tongue at you, “It’s going to cost you.” You opened your eyes and smiled up at him, thumb gently stroking his wrist.

“I’m not worried, you’re priceless after all.”

#got7 fanfic #got7 smut #mark tuan fanfic #mark tuan smut #mark tuan

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nagitoshopebagelstm · 3 years

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𝐟! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐤𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐢

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┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ˚✩ ⋆｡˚ ✩

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✯ ⋆ ┊ . ˚

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♡ ┊f! reader x kokichi . ೄྀ࿐

happy late b-day🥳 BTW, THIS FIC IS IN A NO KILLING GAME AU, SO IT DOESNT TAKE PLACE AT THE ULTIMATE ACADEMY FOR GIFTED JUVENILES, BUT INSTEAD NORMAL REAL LIFE

request page: [link]

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requested by: Michelle (Quotev 🥶)

kokichi had been acting rather weird lately, it seemed like he’d been avoiding you the whole week, today especially. only once were you able to catch his attention, and even then, it was cut short.

”hey, ‘kichi..” you spoke, using the nickname you gave him. he sat at the edge of his couch, tapping away at his phone, something he’d been doing a lot lately. he didn’t even demand you for hugs or cuddles.

”hm?” he hummed, raising his vibrant purple eyes to meet yours.

”did i-“ you began and he cocked his head to the side, something you’d coo at if it weren’t for your current situation. “did i do something wrong?” you asked him, eyebrows furrowing. the blank look on his face didn’t reassure you. blinking, kokichi gave you a huge grin and jumped onto your lap.

”of course not, babe!” you didn’t know whether or not he was lying. a notification from his phone distracted him for a moment and his eyes noticeably widened. “aw, looks like i gotta go, something happened back at d.i.c.e..” he frowned. now that was a lie. before he had been acting all weird, he had told you about his week off. an impish grin spread across his face once he stared at your facial features. “awww, so you figured out my lie, huh? too bad, i guess.” although he didn’t sound at all affected. “i was actually going to go and see kiibo!”

”but you hate k-“ he cut you off by pressing a quick and soft kiss to your cheek. before you could even utter a response, he jumped from your lap and out the front door. you frowned. something was definitely up.

of course, when you had first got with kokchi, you had your worries (mainly about his tenancy to lie) but once the two of you started dating, he had began to become more truthful and certainly not as rude as he had been before, of course he still had his moments. he was kokichi after all.

that day, he missed dinner. your nervousness didn't get any better.

but, as said previously, today he seemed even worse. when you woke up, he wasn't there, no text to tell you what he was usually doing (something he'd usually do if he decided to prank others, as he needed a get away driver). you really waned to give him the benefit of the doubt, you really did, but they still managed to worm their way into your head.

you sighed and picked up your phone, dialing kaede, your phone ringing a few times before she finally picked up.

"shh- she called- oh!" kaede exclaimed, as if she hadn't been scolding someone. "yes, y/n?"

"oh, uh.." you absent mindlessly called. what did you even call her for? to vent, possibly, but would she even know what to say?

"what's wrong?" she asked, and you heard the blonde's shift in tone immediately shift, her happy one turning into one of concern. "did something happen?" you swore you heard muffled voices in the back silence at her question.

"yeah.. i guess..?" you responded slowly. "i'm just nervous.." you sighed, and played with your hair, a nervous habit of yours. the silence on the other end of the phone prompted you to keep speaking. "recently- er- this whole week, actually, it seems like kokichi has been avoiding me, constantly lying and leaving the house and i just-" you slumped in defeat. you felt petty for having to burden kaede with your relationship issues, but she was such a good friend to talk to.

"you just what?" kaede urged you on, sounding a lot calmer than before.

"i'm scared." you admitted finally, clutching your phone. "i love kokichi, and i know he lies- but he's been dong it a lot less, and for him to all of a sudden lie about where he's going.." you shifted in your spot. "i feel like shit, for doubting him, and i really don't want too."

kaede hummed, and you immediately picked up how she sounded as if she had been smiling. huh? "well, i'm sure kokichi wouldn't do anything. anyways, you should go and get ready, kokichi probably doesn't want you in your pajamas." before you could ask what she meant, she had hung up, and the front door to you and kokichi's house opened, the grape panta loving male himself standing in the doorway.

he was quick to grab your hand and lead you outside and to his car (you almost snorted with how serious he had looked while on his booster seat to the car- he had to see the road somehow)!

"where are we going?" you asked as soon as he began driving and you looked out the window watching the scenery change.

"ughh, your so impatient." kokichi pouted. "you'll see once you get there!"

the rest of the ride was in silence.

finally, you two had reached your destination, it being kaede's house. you stared on in confusion. "why-" you began, but kokichi had already parked (surprisingly well, mind you) and was getting out of the car.

"well, are you just going to sit in there all day? we don't have time to waste!" kokichi whined, opening your door and dragging you by the sleeve much like a child would to their mother. you didn't protest and simply let yourself be dragged. with how distant he had been acting this week, the sudden attention he was giving you left you even more confused. even then, he never explained why the both of you had went to kaede's house.

when the two of you walked into the house, it was pitch black. your grip on kokichi faltered, yet he didn't seem affected, only continuing forward. suddenly, he stopped moving, causing you to bump into him. due to the lack of light, you couldn't see his face, yet you somehow knew he was grinning.

the lights turned on abruptly, a chorus of voices shouting at the top of their lungs.

"happy birthday!"

everyone you ever knew stood in front of you, adorning party hats and various wrapped gifts and it took you a few seconds to process what had happened.

"uhm.. is she okay?" shuichi was the first to break the silence as he messed with his party hat glancing away.

"i think she's just shocked is all." rantaro chuckled. shocked was an understatement. you turned to kokichi, eyes silently begging him for an explanation and his grin only widened, his hands folded behind his head.

"what?" he asked innocently. "you really think i wouldn't do something for your birthday? don't tell me you forgot your own birthday.." he sulked, his teasing attitude quickly dampened before suddenly turning serious. "hey.. what you said to kaede, you weren't lying, right?" you glanced away, suddenly very aware of the stares that lingered on the both of you, luckily for you he had said it in a tone where only you could have heard it. "i didn't mean to make yo worry, and that's not a lie! i just wanted to plan you an amazing birthday party." kokichi confessed, furrowing his brows as his face turned a light shade of pink, obviously embarrassed.

you only gave a small chuckle. "no, i shouldn't have doubted you so much.. and thank you for this party kokichi." it was clear to see how much he had planned out for this party, from the decorations to the cake, he even invited kiibo and miu!

"well of course, i wouldn't give you anything less you know." he said pridefully, his serious attitude vanishing. you sighed, yet smiled. you were glad that your worries were just simply worries and not anything greater.

you ruffled the leader's hair and pecked him on the cheek, slyly grinning at how quickly he had shut up from your public display of affection.

"come on! at least eat the cake before you two decide to fuck!" miu called out, huffing and you snorted at her vulgar words, your face turning as red as kokichi's.

"m-miu!" kiibo stammered. "you can't just say that!"

ignoring miu's comment all of you proceeded to celebrate your birthday, the party going on without any hitches.

ps: uhhh the ending was really rushed, sorry 😥

#drv3 kokichi #kokichi #kokichi oma x reader #kokichi imagines #kokichi oma imagine #kokichi x s/o #female reader #female s/o #x reader #x s/o #drv3 #fanfiction #fanfic #drv3 fanfic #female reader imagine #quotev

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hopscotchandlemon · 4 years

Text

Show Your Love

Also on Ao3

It was the hardest decision you’d ever made but as you closed the door on your motel room, you felt it had been the right one. That didn’t stop you feeling guilty. By now, Jethro would have read the ‘Dear John’ letter you’d left on his mantle piece. You wondered if he’d actually miss you, he’d barely seen you in the last month.

Dropping your case, you eased off your shoes and lay down on the starched bedding. Travelling had not been kind to your muscles and you tried to get them to relax. You’d been so wound up about how your relationship had ended, you doubted your body could remember what it was like not to be in a tense state. As various aches and pains wracked your spine, you sat up, reaching for your bag for your bottle of water and your painkillers. You took out the new phone you had purchased, your old one having been taken apart of dropped in a bin not far from Jethro’ home. You’d been careful when selecting somewhere to run to and made it as difficult as possible for the Special Agent to find you knowing he’d find you out of stubbornness rather than a desire to put right what had gone so terribly wrong. You didn’t even know where the problem lay. All you knew if that the man you’d thought you loved had become someone who at home swayed between anger and apathy. Sure, you knew he could be difficult, umcommunicative and you’d be the mistress to the much more demanding wife that was his job, but you also knew he could be considerate, warm and even gentle.

It was the fall when things had changed. You’d been living together for a year having met the previous fall when a case bought Special Agent Gibbs and Special Agent McGee to your workplace, George Washington University, where you were a professor in mechanical engineering. You’d been able to advise the agents on the type of technology that they’d recovered from the home of a known domestic terrorist. A week after they’d closed the case, Gibbs had returned to offer his thanks and to ask you out to dinner.

That last fall, you’d been finishing up after a day’s work when McGee had turned up at your office to tell you Jethro had been seriously injured in a high speed crash and to take you straight to the hospital. Indeed the doctors told you to expect the worst and you spent the next few days in limbo, surrounded by his team as you all hoped for a miracle. A week later that miracle happened, and he was taken off the ventilator. You’d joked that it was much less the sign of a miracle and more a indication of how stubborn the man was, refusing to conform to what everyone else had thought was his demise.

You got him home and while you never expected him to be a model patient, his mood swings and his detached persona made him near impossible to deal with. In time his body healed but his demeanour did not. You couldn’t quite believe it when he passed a psych evaluation to go back to work but he’d had years of practise at convincing everyone he was just fine. He deceived himself that he was fine to the point he was convincing. He seemed a different person at work while at home, the layers of untreated trauma made any kind of relationship near to impossible. Eventually he started to avoid you. At first you worried about him but then you didn’t have the anxiety of wondering what mood he was in. If he ever was in the house at the same time as you, he’d spend most of it in his basement.

That’s when you knew it was time to leave. You had to get away for a bit so you waited until spring break and booked this motel in New York state for a week. You used cash to get the train tickets and rented an apartment in DC so you had somewhere to go once your week was up. If Gibbs wanted to find you after that you’d talk, but you needed the break and for him to have some time to reflect on what he wanted.

The week passed quietly. You’d enjoyed the space and had explored the state as much as you could. The journey back was arduous but once you were home, you were able to get yourself in to a new routine. As you finally got yourself back on the grid, you knew sooner or later Jethro would find you and that happened the Friday after you started back at work.

***********************

Everyone at NCIS was on the receiving end of Gibbs’ wrath. It was Spring Break so there was talk of holidays and plans among those lucky enough to snare the time off while those with kids discussed what the had planned. He turned up on the Monday morning and barked orders at everyone. There was no case to keep them all busy so they took it in turns to escape to Abby’s lab to discuss what had turned their team leader in to a bear with a sore head. McGee had some insight although he knew better to share it. Gibbs had asked him to ping (y/n)’s phone. Believing they had misplaced it, he told his boss that it’s last location was in fact his own house but the battery might have died as it hadn’t moved since Friday. This had not helped his mood and he’s asked McGee send him their credit card statements and if they’d booked any flights. When McGee came back with nothing of note, Gibbs mood darkened even more. The team were relieved when a case came up on Tuesday. It was bad news for the petty officer but a relief to the NCIS agents.

The following Monday, Gibbs mood was still and no one in the bullpen dare speak. McGee did another search for (y/n) and to his relief they started to turn up in searches. A new tenancy agreement, a new phone. He wanted to tell Gibbs but he didn’t want his boss to think he was prying. So when Gibbs was called to Vance’s office just as they were about to go home, he printed of details of the tenancy agreement and left them in an envelope on Gibbs’ desk before leaving the building.

***********************************

Gibbs knew he had behaved badly but it was his way of coping with the aftermath of that car crash. He’d been so disorientated when he first came round. He saw Shannon and Kelly a great deal and that gave him some peace but when they disappeared to be replaced by tubes entering his body and machines bleeping , he felt he’d descended to hell and seeing his wife and child had been a cruel trick. The Friday he’d realised (Y/N) had gone, he’d decided to blot it all out with Bourbon. He did this all weekend putting him on a crash course with the week ahead. By Monday he wanted to find them and put things right. Obviously, they’d paid attention when he’d talked about tracking people and initial searches proved fruitless. Once a case came up, he threw himself in to solving that in a bid to think about something else. When Tim had left the copy of (y/N)’s new tenancy agreement on his desk, he saw it as a sign that maybe it was time to approach them.

**************************************

You’d got home just after 6pm and started to prepare something to eat. You always made far too much but you figured it would do you later in the week. Just as you were about to plate up your door intercom sounded. You knew it was Jethro before you even got to the speaker. You let him up and immediately started to plate him up some food too. If nothing it would break the ice on your first meeting since you ended it.

He was quiet, but then he always was a man of few words. He accepted the plate of food graciously and sat opposite you and tucked in. You even found him a beer to go with his meal. Once you were done eating you started to clear the plates away. The silence hung heavy in the air and you wondered who would be the first to break it. It wasn’t until you sat in the lounge that Gibbs broke it.

‘I know I’ve been a bastard to you these last few weeks. Will you let me make it up to you?’ he said, those steel-blue eyes pleading for the forgiveness his lips never could.

You sighed. You’d thought long and hard about this. Truth was you loved him deeply and while you felt he loved you, you knew he didn’t always show it. But there was no getting away from the last few month. It had fundamentally changed how you saw him. You knew that side of Gibbs existed, but you had hoped you wouldn’t witness it. Now you had, it was going to be hard to build up that trust again. You’d be hurt by the way he had shunned you.

‘That might be possible in the future but I think we need to take a step back for a while.’ You replied, watching him for a hint of a reaction. Even with his best poker face you could tell that wasn’t the answer he was wanting. You let the silence continue. He took a step closer to you, almost as if to rail against what you had just said.

‘I love you, (y/n). I don’t know how else to say it you,’ he pleaded.

‘Show me then,’ you challenged him.

He studied you, trying to read your mind. ‘How?’ he asked. His arms open and asking the same question.

You thought for a second. ‘I want you to go and talk to someone, someone who can help you work through all the stuff that’s happened to you. I know you don’t like shrinks Jethro but something has got to change.’ You pleaded, your eyes set on him.

You knew you’d asked him the earth. He’d rather go into a gunfight outnumbered 10 to 1 than talk to someone about what he was feeling.

‘It’s up to you. I understand either way,’ you said softly, your hand gently rubbing his arm

He nodded, stepped forward, kissed you gently on the cheek, and made his exit.

******************************

You sat patiently in the waiting room, pretending to read your magazine. You had checked your watch constantly over the last hour. Just when you were about to end out a search party, you spotted him walking towards you. He gave you half a smile. This was a milestone; he’d just completed his first therapy session and you were so unbelievably proud of him. You’d offered to be with him every step along the way. As he stood in front of you, there was clearly a lot going on in that stubborn head. Without saying a word, you took his hand and you walked out of the clinic together.

#ncis fanfiction #ncis #ncis x reader #leroy jethro gibbs #tim mcgee #first tumblr post #ptsd tw #gender netural reader

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tickle-fic-chick · 4 years

Text

Cruel || A Descendants Tickle Fic

Author’s Note: My first Descendants fic! I have been binging the films and craving some tickle content for them. Unfortunately, that seems to be in short supply. Well, I can fix that! Harry was giving me super strong switch vibes in these movies, especially during his interactions with Uma. My brain has just accepted the fact that he is a glutton for tickles and nothing can change that. Also, this is just part one of a two part fic. Now, without further ado, let’s get this show on the road!

Life had changed since the merging of Auradon and the Isle. No longer separated by the magical barrier, people from all different walks of life were mingling and forming bonds. Some people, specifically the villains themselves, had trouble adjusting at first. How could they become allies with the people who had locked them away for all those years? How could the goody-two-shoes royalty forgive them for what they have done? Did they really want their friendship? Or did they simply pity them? Over time, all of this unrest was put to rest. While things weren’t perfect and problems still arose, people were working together to solve their differences and try to understand each other. An unseen era of peace and prosperity for all had been ushered in. That being said, some things never changed. One of those things are Henry Hook. Still just as wild as ever, though his more violent tenancies had been reigned in.

Auradon was throwing a big party in honor of Mal and Ben’s wedding. It had been a beautiful affair, though a bit too fancy for Uma’s taste. The after party was much more here style; outdoors around a massive bonfire. Night was falling, casting the entire area in a blueish glow that contrasted nicely to the orange light of the flames. Young couples found dark, secluded areas for privacy while the children ran around, laughing with sparklers in hand. The parents simply watched on, chatting among themselves. Uma’s eyes continued to scan the crowd, landing on her first mate at a moment of searching. He had gathered a small group of children around the fire and was in the midst of telling them a story. Going by the looks on the children’s faces, it wasn’t a pleasant one. Sighing with dismay, Uma made her way over to the group.

“The beast was taller than the tallest trees, it’s eyes glowing red! It’s fangs were like daggers, sharp and dangerous! It had eight arms, at the very least, each one posed to strike! I knew I had to act quickly, otherwise I would be sleeping with the fishes!” Harry embellished his tale with exaggerated hand movements and expression, pulling the children into the story even more. The little ones clung to each other, watching him with wide eyes. Their faces showed a mixture of curiosity and fear. “W-What was it? Was it a giant?” One of the children, a little girl with pink ribbons in her hair, asked. Harry shook his head. “Oh no, it was something far worse than a giant! Far worse than any dragon, witch, or beast!” Uma could see that the children were really getting riled up. She needed to put an end to this before he gave them all nightmares. “What was it then?” Another child asked.

Harry’s response was cut off by a startled gasp. A pair of hands were suddenly at his sides, squeezing rapidly. He bit his lip, trying to stifle the laughter that was already bubbling up inside him. What was going on? The low, amused chuckle from behind tipped him off. It was Uma; of course it was! “The most terrible beast of them all; the tickle monster!” She growled, attacking Harry’s sides with more vigor. The pirate broke, falling into a fit of giggles as he attempted to squirm away. The children’s nervous expressions morphed into smiles of glee as they giggled with amusement. “It’s no laughing matter! If the tickle monster gets you, it will tickle you for all time!” She attacked Harry’s lower ribs, drawing a symphony of laughter from her first mate. Uma stopped after a moment, hands on her hips. “If I hadn’t have been there, Harry would have been a goner.”

By now, the children had caught on that it was just a story. They still went along with it though, as children tend to do. “Wow, you must have been so brave!” A little boy said, hair curly and cheeks dotted with freckles. Uma chuckled, shaking her head. She chanced a glance at Harry, who was still recovering from her brief tickle attack. His eyes locked onto hers, the corners of his mouth still curved into a grin. She knew that look well; he was in one of his moods now. Well, she wasn’t going to let him off so easily. He still had to be punished for scaring the children, after all. “Thank you. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go congratulate our new king and queen.” With that, she walked away and left the stupefied Harry behind, eyes widened in surprise. She purposely avoided him for the rest of the evening.

When the party was over Uma returned to her room. She would be returning to the Isle to get the rest of her things soon. For now, she was content with what few belonging she had. The room was far more spacious and nice than what she was used to. The softness of the bed almost scared her the first time she had touched it. Suddenly she heard a knock at the door. Turning around, Harry barged in before she could say a word, grabbing her gently by the shoulders. Her eyes widened for a moment before a look of amusement spread across her face. “Funny seeing you here. Shouldn’t you be out partying with the rest of the crew until dawn?” Harry growled, eyes narrowing. “You’ve been so cruel to me tonight.” There was a playful smirk tugging at his lips, betraying his portrayed anger. “Just because I’m moving to Auradon doesn’t mean I’m going soft.” She replied, returning the smirk.

The pirate dropped to his knees, hands gently gripping her arms. “Uma, don’t torment me any longer. What did I do to deserve such treatment?” Uma rolled her eyes at his dramatics, shrugging off his touch. “You were scaring the daylights out of those kids!” Harry stood up, smirk morphing into a cocky grin. “What? We grew up hearing the story of the Fanged Beast of Underland and we turned out just fine!” It was true; they had been told such stories by their parents growing up. Bedtimes stories about knights saving princesses were replaced by tales of monsters and curses. “These kids haven’t grown up hearing that stuff. Life is different here; they don’t scare their kids like that.” Harry came up behind her, gently squeezing her sides. “Perhaps you have gone soft...” He purred. That triggered it; he was pinned against the wall in an instant, brown eyes meeting his blue ones.

“Soft, huh? I’ll show you soft.” Uma growled. A lump formed in the pirate’s throat, his heart hammering with excitement. He had been waiting for this all night. It had been so mean of her to attack him at the party, getting him into a mood then leaving him high and dry. Harry had been festering in his own flusteredness for the rest of the party, trying desperately to get her attention again. He had even tried seeking out others for help with his problem; they were all busy. Well, none of that mattered now! Uma’s hands rested on his sides, making poor Harry nearly jump out of his skin. “Now, I’m going to tickle you and you aren’t going to laugh, got it? I don’t want to hear a single peep out of you. If you giggle even once, I’ll stop.” Harry’s eyes widened, his cheeks going red. She was feeling extra cruel tonight! He nodded, trying to mentally prepare himself for the attack.

He didn’t even last a minute.

#uma #harry hook #disney #tickle fic #tickling #tickle community #tickle blog #writing blog

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durmstrange · 4 years

Text

First Snowfall - Draco Malfoy

Hello and welcome to another Draco one shot. I hope you enjoy, as this might be my favorite thing I have ever written!

word count: 3,304

_____________________

It took very little time from the moment Draco Malfoy got to know you to begin question everything that was ever certain in his life.

Draco was complicated, to say the absolute least, and you were not. In fact, you were far from it. You were as easygoing and kind a person as they come, and it infuriated Draco that he adored this about you so much. You wore your heart on you sleeve, something Draco never truly did.

On a cold, rainy November day, you wore the heaviest sweater you owned, which happened to be a pale yellow cable-knit, with tight black pants and a white knitted hat as you walked hurriedly towards the greenhouses for the extra credit work you signed on for. In your rush, it slipped your mind to grab your parka, and you were now chilling to the bone in the dreary weather. Nonetheless, you wrapped your arms tightly around yourself and kept your head down as you neared the greenhouses.

As you flung the door to greenhouse two open, your heart lurched in your chest as you spotted a figure bent over the Valerian plants you had planted only weeks ago. “What on earth are you doing to my plants?” You snapped as the figure stood and turned, reddened and mad at someone catching him. Draco Malfoy spotted you then, arms crossed and clothes damp, standing in the doorway.

“Your plants? You do not own the plants in the greenhouse,” he snapped back, pocketing something. You approached him then, half stomping, and grabbed his wrist in your pathetic grasp.

Without even hesitating, you pulled his hand from his own pocket, revealing the Valerian roots he was trying to take. “And what are you doing with this? Draught of Living Death, Draught of Peace?” You interrogated harshly and tilted your head to the side. Potions was your best subject, and rattling off possible uses for the plant came to you like second nature.

Draco pulled his wrist from your hand and huffed. “That is none of your concern,” he snapped at you and began walking by quickly. The anger on his face was rather similar to the look he normally held.

You remained in the same spot, arms crossed over your chest. “If you’re making a Sleeping Draught, you need sprigs of Valerian, not the roots,” you added, watching as he hesitated a moment mid-step.

Draco turned, just slightly, so you could see the side of his face. Simply by this action, you could tell that you were right. “That’s not correct,” he replied coolly, making you laugh a little. Your anger subsided rather quickly, and as you leaned against the large table in the center of the greenhouse, you shook your head at the boy.

“Potions is my best subject,” you explained and took some trimmers from the long table. As you began trimming sprigs of Valerian off, you spoke, “So, I happen to know for a fact that Sleeping Draught needs sprigs. Come here,” you instructed as you moved to the table, using the spool of scratchy brown twine attached to the center of the table to tie a bundle of them together.

Draco didn’t move towards you, but turned completely to watch as you tied the twine expertly, not too tight to damage the plant, but not so loose that it was useless, and held it out to him. “Come on now, take it,” you urged him. Draco hesitated, but stepped forward just far enough to take it from your hands.

“Why are you here?” He questioned then, taking a few steps back.

As you turned again, with your back to him, you began to put gloves onto your small hands. “Extra credit,” you answered and began tying your hair back. “I missed quite a few lessons a couple weeks ago, as I was ill in the hospital wing for about a week,” you explained. Draco frowned as you turned to him again, damp hair pulled back and a small frown on your own lips. “Now, if you don’t mind, I promised Professor Sprout I would care for the plants in greenhouse two every Saturday for a month.”

Draco nodded, and moved towards the door to leave you in peace, but as he opened the door, he glanced back at you one more time. Your back was to him and he was deeply disappointed, as he wanted to see your face one last time before he left.

~.~

A week later, to the day, Draco was seated at the table of greenhouse two, waiting for you to arrive. It was sunny today, but rather cold, as winter came upon them fast. He had already lit the fire in the corner of the greenhouse, warming it up slightly, and now waited for you patiently.

Half passed ten in the morning, the door to the greenhouse opened and you entered, not noticing him sitting at the long table. After you shrugged your heavy jacket off and hung it up on the pegs by the door, you turned and gasped, finally spotting Draco. “You’ve really got to stop scaring me like this,” you exclaimed and held your hand to your chest dramatically.

For a split second, you thought you saw a smirk form on his lips, but he quickly looked away. “I never thanked you for your help last week,” Draco explained in a tight voice as you approached him with curious look on your face. “And I never introduced myself. I’m Draco Malfoy.”

“I know who you are,” you replied with a faint smile on your lips. Draco furrowed his eyebrows slightly. “I’m (Y/N) (Y/L/N) and you don’t need to thank me,” you replied softly and leaned against the table next to him. “Was I correct? You were making a Sleeping Draught?” You asked him out of your own curiosity.

Draco looked at you, his lips pressed into a tight line. “You were correct,” he admitted. You could tell he hated to admit he was wrong.

With a smile on your lips, you laughed. The smile was one of the sweetest and most genuine things he had ever witnessed, and it made his heartbeat speed up greatly. In combination with your airy laugh, he fought to keep himself from shifting from the odd fluttering feeling his stomach held. “What did you need the draught for, if you don’t might me asking?” You questioned with the same smile on your lips.

Draco looked away and hesitated, truly not wanting to answer you. Getting the hint, you spoke quickly. “You don’t have to tell me. I was simply curious. I apologize,” you added quickly and ducked your head in embarrassment. Draco simply watched you, his face barely peppered red. “However, if you ever need more, I would be more than happy to brew it for you. As I said before, potions is my best subject, and I truly enjoy it and am quite good at it. Professor Snape can vouch for me for that,” you added with a sweet smile on your lips.

The ghost of a smile played on his lips, if you could even call it that, and he nodded gently. “That is very kind of you,” he answered in a quiet voice and stood from the stool. “Now, we should get started on caring for the plants.”

You almost didn’t catch it, but as you nodded, you froze and tilted your head to the side in confusion. “We?” You asked curiously as you reached for gloves on the table.

Draco did the same and nodded. “Correct, that is what I said,” he answered nonchalantly and turned to you. “Tell me what you need me to do,” he instructed and watched you closely.

Quietly, you laughed. “You don’t have to help me.”

“I know.”

The smile on your face made Draco’s heart leap in his chest and he struggled to keep a straight face because of this. Nonetheless, he ducked his head slightly, hiding the fond look on his face as you thought for a moment. “I actually need to trim the Valerian again. Do you mind?” You asked him and held out the trimmers for him to take.

Draco shook his head and took the trimmers, turning away from you to begin his assigned task. “You can just leave them on the table. I’ll tie them up later,” you instructed further and turned away as well, working on your own tasks.

As you worked, Draco began to speak. “What house are you in?” He asked in a steady voice, something you envied him for. You tended to share your emotions in your voice quite often.

“Ravenclaw,” you answered without skipping a beat. “You’re in Slytherin,” you said rather than asking.

Draco fell quiet for a moment, trying to decide if there was disdain in your voice. He didn’t detect any, but still decided to tread lightly. “That is correct,” he agreed. “Do you hate us, too?” He asked then in a snide voice, unable to help himself.

What he didn’t expect was for you to laugh. He wasn’t meant to be funny, in fact, it irritated him a little bit that you laughed. “Of course not. Don’t be silly,” you answered before he could make another angry comment. Draco’s face drained of color out of guilt. “Why would I hate an entire house? Sure, there are some of you that are simply horrible people, but same goes for every house. There’s some pretty nasty Ravenclaws, too.” Draco turned, staring at the side of your face as you worked. How were you so optimistic about his house? He was sure every other house hated his.

He watched you, an unintentionally appreciative look on his face, and spoke in a quiet voice, “You mean to say - ” he began, but you interrupted him shortly.

“No, I do not hate you,” you answered his unasked question, as if you could hear his thoughts. You turned to him, kind eyes searching his cold ones, and gave him a small, sorrowful smile. “I have no doubts in my mind that you can be horribly nasty to others, and I don’t care much for that, but it would be unfair of me to judge you when I do not know you very well. Only twice we have met, and I actually like you quite a bit,” you admitted to him boldly with a face that felt hot.

Draco stared, his face hidden of all expression. It made you anxious that you may have made yourself vulnerable to him, but you were honest with how you felt, and you had the tenancy to show this frequently. Draco smiled then, which was entirely unfamiliar to you, but made you smile as well. His eyes fell to the Valerian in his hand. “I’ve come to like you too,” he admitted in his normally confident voice.

You smiled even wider. “I am incredibly happy to hear that, Draco,” you responded. Draco turned then, placing the Valerian on the table as you had instructed and continued to do his job.

With the smile on your lips refusing to fade, you continued your job as well, taking turns asking each other basic questions as roughly an hour and a half passed. By the end of the time, as you took your gloves off and tossed them on the table, you felt like you truly knew Draco far more than you could have ever imagined you would. “Thank you for the help, Draco. I really appreciate it. I would have been here for another hour or two if it weren’t for you,” you admitted and leaned onto the table in the center of the greenhouse, watching as he, too, removed his gloves and dusted off his expensive looking black jacket.

With a faint smile, he nodded. “I am happy to get you out of this extra credit early,” he told you and nodded towards the door. “Can I walk with you back to the castle?”

You glanced at the door, and nodded. “That sounds nice,” you answered simply and picked up the bundles of Valerian and other plants the two of you collected today. With the trimmings in your arms, you started walking side by side with Draco. The cool fall air cut right through the jacket you wore, and you shivered lightly as Draco closed the door behind the two of you.

There was a familiar smell in the air, one you recognized instantly, and you sucked a sharp, excited breath in. You spotted the small, barely visible snowflakes falling from the sky, and with your barely free hand, you grabbed Draco’s arm. “Draco, it’s snowing!” Your voice was giddy with excitement and Draco squinted, confused. He barely noticed the light flakes falling. “The first snowfall!”

Draco’s eyes wandered from the ground of Hogwarts, back to you, and a softness developed in his heart that he didn’t know he was capable of having. Seeing your excitement, the liveliness in your eyes, the look of pure bliss on your face, all of it made a feeling of adoration form in his otherwise cold heart. “I reckon you like snow?” He asked with a chuckle in his voice.

Without even thinking, you moved your hand from gripping his forearm, to looping your arm through his. “Oh, it is my favorite,” you sighed heavily and looked to him with a dreamy look.

He chuckled again, not moving to remove your arm from his, and began walking in sync with you. “Why do you need this extra credit, anyways?” He asked you as you held the trimmings in one hand, and squeezed his forearm with your other.

“I missed a fair bit of class last month,” you explained with a small frown on your face. “I fell from my broom while playing a mock game of Quidditch with some friends. Didn’t wake up for a week, and couldn’t leave the hospital wing for another week after that, for monitoring.” Your face was red from both the cold air and the embarrassment you felt for admitting this.

Draco sucked a sharp breath in. “That must have been quite the fall,” he commented with a low whistle.

You laughed nervously. “Yeah, it was. The bludger wouldn’t leave me alone, until it got me. Rumor has it one of the other houses tampered with it, making it go after the keeper,” you explained in a sad voice. Draco dug through his brain, trying to think of any possibility that he knew who did it. The scenario sounded so familiar, but he couldn’t place his finger on it. You shrugged, a sad smile on your lips. “That’s just rumor, though. I’d like to believe that it was just a rogue bludger, or something. I’d hate to think someone would be so evil to hurt someone like that.”

As you spoke, Draco realized how pure you were. Pure, innocent, and everything he wasn’t. He ducked his head, ashamed at the thought, and shook his head. “It would be quite evil for someone to do that,” he admitted gently as you neared the castle. “How are you, now? Completely healed?”

The concern in his voice threw you off. He wasn’t one to care about others, it seemed, but he appeared to be so worried about you. With a small laugh, you shook your head. “If only,” you told him with a tight smile. “I’ve been getting right nasty headaches lately, and sleep has proven to be quite difficult.” Draco gave her a confused look, pushing her to continue. “I keep dreaming that I’m falling,” you explained and looked away, embarrassed.

Draco felt so much pity for you. You were so kind, and so innocent, and he couldn’t fathom why someone would dare to hurt you. However, a nagging thought in the back of his head led him to believe he doubtlessly knew people who would do that to anyone, or worse. “Well,” he began tightly as you approached the castle. There were many students outside, shouting and cheering about the first snow of the season, as it began to stick to the grass. “I haven’t been able to sleep much lately, either. If at all. So, if you’re unable to sleep, you’re welcome to join me on my nightly walks,” he offered you with a slight redness to his cheeks.

“But, Draco, you know we can’t be out past curfew.”

Without a word, he pushed his jacket to the side, revealing the shiny Prefect pin beneath. You raised an eyebrow, quite impressed. “Cheeky,” you murmured to him and rolled your eyes gently.

He chuckled as the two of you came a stop outside of the castle. You let go of him, letting your arm fall to the side, and opened your mouth to speak, but he beat you to it. “Come here,” he instructed and took your elbow, steering you around a column, out of sight from the others outside. You furrowed your eyebrows, confused, and watched as he dug two neatly folded, white handkerchiefs from his pocket. Curiously, you watched his every move. He took his wand out, pressed the tip of his wand to the handkerchiefs and uttered a spell you didn’t recognize.

Draco held one of them out to you to take. Skeptically, you looked at it closely before taking it into your hands, running your fingers along the silk, confused. “What did you do?” You asked him curiously.

With a proud smile, holding one of them in his own hand. “Turn it red,” he instructed.

Slowly, you reached down and placed the plant trimmings on the ground, in the growing snow. You reached behind you, taking your wand from where it was tucked into the back of your pants, and did as you were told. You transfigured the handkerchief red. “I don’t understand,” you began as you looked up to him, spotting as his handkerchief turning red in his hand. You gasped unintentionally, realizing what he had done. “Protean charm?” You questioned him incredulously. “That’s extremely advanced magic!”

With a proud look on his face, he waved his hand in dismissal and ran his hands along the fabric in his hand. “Now, if you want to ever meet me, you only need to do that, and I’ll meet you at the Ravenclaw common room entrance.”

You shook your head with a smile on your lips. “You are unbelievable,” she murmured and watched as the handkerchief returned white on its own. “But what if you don’t have it out, to watch it turn colors?”

Draco pocketed the silk square back into its place. “It heats up when its changing. Not enough to hurt you, but just enough to make you notice.” He explained and leaned against the column.

“Can I turn it any color?”

With a chuckle, Draco nodded. “Any color.”

You rocked back and forth on your heels. “This is incredible,” you laughed incredulously once more. You put your wand back where it was and leaned down, picking up the plant trimmings you had dropped previously. “It’s a date, then. Be on the look out for a purple silk handkerchief,” you told him with a cheeky smile on your lips.

Draco’s face reddened at the mention of a date. You giggled at his response, watching as a surprised look formed on his face. You began backing up. “I assume it works both ways?” You asked him. Draco nodded numbly. “Alright then, if you need me, turn it blue. That’s my color, after all,” you ordered and gave him one last wave and sweet smile before turning the corner, leaving him to his thoughts.

He leaned his back against the column, letting a slow breath from his lips. You were a sweet, crazy whirlwind, and Draco had no idea the trouble he had gotten himself into.

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