#i want to give him a good ending. maybe some friends. perhaps some decent parental figures idk | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ickadori · 4 months

Text

++ 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎𝐔

[summary] your parents have no place in getou’s new world, but you do.

[cws] fem reader. death. murder -> getou is killing your monkey as parents, but it’s not described, just hinted at! yandere vibes but i didn’t lean into it heavy. mentions of getou’s past crimes (village slaughtering/killing his parents). hinted that reader used to like getou. unedited.

“You can’t be here.”

If your body hadn’t locked up in fear, you would have given yourself a pat on the back for keeping your voice so steady despite the panic curdling in your chest at the sight of Getou Suguru standing on your doorstep—your parent’s doorstep.

“I can’t visit my dear old friend? We are friends, aren’t we?” No, you had stopped being friends with him the moment you heard of what he did to his parents—no, not even then, because you couldn’t believe it at first.

“Getou Suguru killed the people of the village, as well as his parents.”

You had balked when Yaga first said those words to you, and then you had spat venom as you vehemently denounced the claim. I mean, it was Getou. He wouldn’t—he couldn’t. Someone had gotten something terribly, terribly wrong. He wasn’t that kind of person, he wasn’t evil.

There had to have been some kind of mishap — an anomaly. Perhaps his technique had failed and one of his curses had turned against him and killed the villagers, and he was powerless to stop it. Or maybe there had been some kind of colluding - it wouldn’t be the first time that the higher-ups pulled a nasty, underhanded tactic for their own hidden agendas.

But then Gojo had come to you with bloodshot eyes and wild hair, and you had known it was true, even though the both of you had desperately wished it wouldn’t.

Even then, with the confirmation that Getou had turned his blade against the people you all had spent your life training to protect, you still hadn’t turned your back on him…until you had seen the state of his childhood home.

The walls, once painted a a soft cream, had been stained a dark red, splatters of blood stretched high up to the ceilings. The pictures on the walls that contained images of a young Geto positioned in between his parents, beaming smiles on all of their faces, had been smashed beyond recognition. The recliner that you vividly remember seeing his father napping in, book laid on his chest and glasses slipping down his nose, had been flipped, the fabric slashed to shreds and the cushion spilling out. His mother’s apron, a gift that you had given her one year for her birthday, had laid in bloody tatters next to it.

You would have thought he hated them with the savage way he had killed them (didn’t he, though? Was this his way of showing you all just how serious he was?), he hadn’t even left behind a piece of bone to properly identify them, and the implication that he had let the curses he hosted consume them had made you sick to your stomach.

That’s when you began to hate Suguru Getou, but even more than that, you began to fear him.

“No, we’re not.” Whatever steel that had been in your voice before was now gone, and the waver in it was clear as your hand tightened on the doorknob. You wanted to slam it close and turn the lock, but what good would that do? He’d get in, and while you were a decent enough sorcerer, him and Gojo had been the real hotshots, you just happened to be entertaining enough for them to let you tag along. He could kill you easily, your parents even easier, and your stomach twists into painful knots as you think to your mother who’s only a few feet away and sitting on the couch, curled into your father’s side as they watch a movie together.

“That hurts my feelings,” he smiles, and instead of the fluttery feeling that it used to give you, it only makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. “I considered you family, y’know—I still do.”

You bristle, eyes narrowing into slits as a wave of anger washes over you, quickly replacing that all-consuming fear. “Is that why you’re here? To kill me just like you did your family? Your parents?”

“My family?” He tilts his head, a look of confusion taking over his features, and you finally notice his new look. He’s garbed in a monks robes, and his hair that had usually been kept tidy and out of the way now flows down his back. A fleeting thought of his attractiveness passes by, and you don’t entertain it. “Oh, those monkeys.” An easy smile graces his lips as he bats his hand in the air, as if shooing away something bothersome. “No, I’m not here to kill you. You actually have a place in this world, unlike…” His eyes make a motion to the side when he hears your mom’s grumbled complaint of the show, and he’s been inside your house enough to know exactly where the couch sits.

“Leave, Getou.” His eyes slide back to yours, that smile still on his face, and the fear from before comes back tenfold at his unspoken intentions. “Now.”

“You don’t have to look so scared,” he laughs lightly, and you jump when you hear your mother call out to you.

“Who’s that at the door, sweetie?” You hear the sound of her shuffling towards you, and your heart lurches up into your throat as you freeze. What do you do? What can you do? Tears well up in your eyes when you come to the realization that whatever you did would be pointless in the end. If he wanted your parents dead, then they’d be dead.

“Please, Suguru.” The floorboard creaks behind you, and his smile widens further at the desperation in your voice. Please don’t hurt them.

“Honey, who are—oh! Getou? I haven’t seen you in ages! How’re you doing, hun? I thought you were still overseas.” Your mother sidles up beside you, a pleased smile on her face as she takes him in. Getou looks to you, clearly wondering when he had gone overseas, and you think back to the lie you had told when your mother kept questioning you about where your ‘handsome little friend had gone’.

“I’ve just gotten back tonight, actually.” He smoothly lies, hands disappearing into the sleeves of his robes, and your heart rate skyrockets as your brain conjures up various scenarios, scenarios in which all end the same exact way. “I missed your daughter so much that I just had to come and see her.”

Your mother swoons.

“H-He’s leaving, actually.”

“I’m not, actually.” He retorts, and your mother throws a glance your way, and you meet her gaze, hoping and praying that she’d realize the gravity of the situation by the look on your face. She’s your mother, she raised you, she knew all your moods, good and bad, surely she should know when something was seriously wrong with—

“Why don’t you come inside then and get out of this cold? You can tell us all about your stay overseas over some tea.”

Nonononono.

“Oh, how kind, I’d love to.”

“How are your parents doing, Geto? I haven’t heard from your mother in a while… she missed out on the market’s half off deal last Saturday.”

Dead. He killed them. He killed them and he’s going to kill you, too.

Your stomach gives another lurch, and you press shaking hands in between your thighs and squeeze them together tight. I can call Gojo, you think. He’d get here in seconds thanks to his teleportation, and in a battle of strength between him and Getou, he came out on top every time. Of course, somehow being able to sneak away to grab your phone would be a risk. But you had to try, you couldn’t just keep sitting here and prolonging their death while they chatted about an overseas trip that never happened, and parents that had long been murdered by their own son.

“…find yourself a partner yet, Getou? I’m sure you have, with your good looks and all.” Your father gives his wife a raise of his brow, but otherwise keeps his attention on the television. “Oh, it’s a pity. You know…” Your mother gives you a sly look, and you narrow your eyes at her as you give a firm shake of your head. “I always thought you two had a little spark going on.”

“Mom.”

Getou grins like the chesire cat, and you wonder if he’s always looked this devious and you were just too blinded by…whatever to notice. “I actually haven’t found anyone yet, although I do have someone in mind.”

“Oh.” She jovially laughs, her hand softly batting at your shoulder as she throws you another look, and you couldn’t keep the grimace off your face if you tried. “It wouldn’t happen to be my lovely, sweet, beautiful, hardworking, amazing cook—”

“—I’m not listening to this.” You shoot to your feet, using the excuse of this embarrassment of a conversation to your aid. It’s a good enough reason to make a swift exit —a mother trying desperately to set her daughter up with the man who’s plotting to kill her and her husband— and swift it is, your feet quickly carrying you up the stairs and down the hall.

“—oh, come on, honey! I’m just playing around!”

Your mother’s voice fades out as you push open your bedroom door and immediately lunge for your phone that’s lying on the bed. You grab it with shaking hands, fingers frantically tapping in your password, and your eyes dart between the screen and the hallway.

A silence falls over the house, and you make a choked noise as your mind jumps to the worse. He’s killed them. He finally got tired of playing nice and killed them. Oh God, he’s killed them.

“…just down the hall and to the ri—well, you’ve been here plenty times! You know the way!” A wave of relief washes over you at the sound of your mother’s voice, only for a surge of panic to rise when you realize he’s on his way and you’ve still yet to call Gojo. You’d have to settle for a text, then.

Your fingers fly across the screen as you move to the text chain you have with Gojo, and you begin to type a message. Getou is here please help, quick and to the point. Your thumb moves to send it, only for a blob of something black to suddenly engulf your hand.

You suck in a sharp breath, eyes widening and arm flinging to the side as you try to fling whatever the hell is on you away, and go to release it in a scream, only for a hand to clamp around your mouth from behind, nails painfully digging into the fat of your cheek. There’s a numbingly cold presence at your back, and your ears twitch at the ragged breathing in your ear.

You know before you look down and see the dark, ghoulish hand that it’s a curse, and you gag as the scent of rotting flesh floods your nostrils. The sound of your bedroom door lock clicking into place reaches your ears, and your eyes snap up to see Getou leaning against it, hands clasped in front of him as he looks at you through his lashes, head tilted down so his chin reaches his chest.

“Your mother doesn’t know when to shut up.” He sighs, and then he’s pushing away from the door and sheathing his hands back into his sleeves, eyes slowly taking in your room. “A second longer and you would have gotten that text off. To Satoru, I’m assuming?” The blob that had engulfed your hand plops down to the floor, and you gag again at the sticky liquid that drips from your palm and onto the carpet.

Getou splays out his palm, and then the phone is spat out and up from the curse before landing in his hand. He glances down at the screen and tsks. “I should kill them right now.”

You scream into the curse’s palm, your head frantically shaking wide to side as best it can. The nails dig in deeper, and you moan in pain, your own hands moving to attempt to free yourself, only for the thing’s other hand to snag ahold of your wrists and wrench them behind your back.

“They were supposed to be dead two hours ago, but I figured I’d let you have a few more moments with them for old times sake.” He smiles as he stoops to look at a picture on your bedside table — it’s one that you had taken the winter before Getou had turned into what he was now. You were sandwiched between him and Gojo, a grin on the white haired man’s face as he leaned his elbow on the top of your head. You were in the middle of sending your fist into his stomach (that of which had been blocked by his infinity, you faintly recall) while Getou watched the two of you with a small smile on his face.

It was the last picture that the three of you had taken together, and you had thrown it away countless times, only to later find yourself rooting through the bin as you frantically searched through it.

Your eyes fill with tears once again.

“Those were fun times, yeah?” He comes to a stop in front of you, and the curse that had been restraining you suddenly lets you go. It steps around you, and you watch, frozen, as it takes hurried steps out of your room. You gasp in a breath, your hands flying to his robes as you clench them in your fists.

“I’m begging you,” you croak, the tears freely falling down your cheeks. “Please don’t do this, Suguru. Please don’t hurt them.”

“They have no place in my world.”

“Honey…do you see that? Oh my God, do you see that?”

“Suguru!” You wail.

“But you…” His hands move to cup the sides of your face, and you sob when you hear the first scream. “You do.”

#getou x reader #geto x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader

886 notes · View notes

soobberries · 10 months

Text

Dilf!Seonghwa pt 2.

Author's Note: Mayhaps I'm tempted to make this a proper fic series and rewrite it... But for now, it's going to be a 'deconstructed fanfiction' as I call it. Let me know if you want a part 3! Feedback is always appreciated too!

Also, this hasn't been properly proofread :p

Warning: Despite this technically being based on a legal reader, since there is a somewhat large age gap - thought I would clarify:

Please be aware that I do not condone any type of relationships between minors and adults, nor do I encourage the idea of being a homewrecker. This is all just fiction! So without further ado, let’s get started!

Genre: Doesn’t exactly have one but has elements of crack and is suggestive.

Age: This is written for a somewhat mature audience so please, no under 16s. Stay safe younglings <3

Word Count: 3.9k

Part one: click here!

Yeah booooiiiiiz, let’s go!

After the first encounter at the fundraiser, which by the way, was ruined by some PTA moms gossiping outside the bathroom door (which caused you and Mr. Park to get the shock of your lives. Fumbling around the enclosed space in slight panic with the sudden reality check of where you two were).

It ended in him having covered your exposed self with his blazer, insisting you can keep it, secretly in hopes that it would be an excuse to somehow see you again.

Despite it being painfully awkward (read: unlawful), you were far too intrigued by Mr. Park to let that be your last encounter as well.

I mean who can blame you? It was a day that definitely took you for a ride (and perhaps not the exact one you would prefer but who knows, maybe it'll lead to the ideal one 🤪).

jk jk… Unless-

Sometimes you even question if it was a fever dream or something but… you knew it wasn't-

… the blazer stared you down a lot. It definitely was real.

So you maaaay have decided against your better judgment to look after Nila a whole lot more these days, just in the rare case you may bump into him :D

You’ve been pretty unlucky though.

You’ve become used to seeing Yerim running towards you with Nila to give you hugs though… which honestly? A very wholesome experience so you can't complain.

Yerim loved you now since Nila was her best friend and if you were taking Yerim back to Nila’s house or they were going to hang out, you’d take them out for ice cream secretly without their parents knowing (which made it even more exciting for them).

Listen, part of you knew that maybe all this was stupid, and the chances of seeing him were slim, but it wasn’t all too bad and you didn’t have anything to lose.

These two kids were basically like your own but without the burden and responsibility of being an actual parent, and you were making some decent cash over the summer (plus your mom was pleased with how much you were helping her co-worker since it helped their relationship too.)

Which was great honestly. You grew to like the two munchkins since they weren’t bad or rude. They were both a little chaotic and loud at times, but overall, just really sweet, happy kids. You couldn’t help but cherish them.

So even without seeing the handsome devil himself, you felt satisfied with your looney decision as it came with other benefits.

It wasn’t until one particular day after the girls had some late afternoon sports practice that you ended up finally seeing the man that's been plaguing your thoughts for the past while.

Of course, you were excited to see that he was indeed, not a figment of your imagination anymore, however, you weren't as happy as you thought you'd be.

In fact, you were pretty angry when you did end up seeing him…

You had good reason to be though.

After their practice, Nila asked if you and her could wait with Yerim until her mom came to fetch her so she wouldn’t be alone...and yes perhaps some undying curiosity about who the mysterious ‘Mrs Park’ actually was, was urging you to stay…

But you did also care for the two girls so it was a no-brainer when you ultimately sat down with them outside at one of the nearby benches, not really bothered.

…

Uhhhh… nevermind?

It’s been about an hour and both girls were getting restless, as well as yourself.

Where was Mrs Park, or at the very least, the driver she often sent to fetch Yerim instead?

You offered your phone to Yerim, and she was polite and thankful at the gesture, however, after dialing the number she knew off by heart twice, her mother didn’t answer, so she phoned the only other number she knew: her dad.

Seonghwa’s coupe rolled up about thirty minutes after the call, and if it weren’t for the circumstance, you’d be eyeing down his expensive car more carefully.

“Daddy!” Yerim shouted, running towards him with her arms open, only relief and excitement in her voice.

He leaned down waiting for her hug before embracing her into his arms.

“Hey sweetheart! Sorry, I made you wait, love. Why don’t you go put your stuff in the car while Daddy speaks to Y/n?”

(score, he remembers your name. Yerim must mention you at home sometimes).

The girl nodded, running towards you to give you a hug as a thank you before running off to the car with her things, Nila assisting in carrying her lunchbox and maths book to the car as well.

You stood arms crossed and all, staring him down expectantly.

Seonghwa gulped at how scary the aura you were exuding appeared to be.

“Nice to see you again,” is all he could get out with a small smile; meekly, at that.

Your knees were weak at the sight of his smile but your head was still strong.

“You made your kid wait two hours, you know that? They close facilities in fifteen minutes. How could you let her wait so long?” You spoke calmly, but Seonghwa couldn’t help but feel a little ashamed despite the gentle voice.

It felt like you were aggressively scolding him, despite you actually being more reasonable than perhaps the situation granted.

His chest tightened; he knew it was because he hated seeing you even slightly upset, he just wasn’t exactly sure why.

It just gave him an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach, as if he feared something…

“Her mom was supposed to come and she didn’t. Apparently, she had work and forgot to tell me…” He uttered while gazing at the floor and clasping his hands awkwardly in front of him.

It was the first time Seonghwa didn’t have this confident flair that was always present, even if it was just in his walk.

He genuinely looked upset with himself and it made your heart drop a little, realizing that it’s not really your place to speak about what you did. You were just some girl, You crossed the line…

But it obviously wasn’t purposeful and granted, something had to be said. Being left at school by your parents can sometimes be the worst feeling after a long school day, and you know Yerim has mentioned waiting at school for a long while more than once.

“Hey,” You reached over towards him, placing your hands atop his shoulders.

“It wasn’t your fault. You were busy right?”

Seonghwa, with a spark in his eye, looked towards you, hesitantly nodding.

He had a small pout displayed and for a second you couldn’t help but wonder how the hell this handsome, adult man could look so cute.

No wait, be serious here!

“It just shouldn’t become a habit. I saw how sad Yerim looked when her mom didn’t pick up the phone, but she said she’s used to it...I, I know it’s not my place, but I just worry for her. Sorry for overstepping.”

You let out a sigh looking away, before retracting your hands, wanting to give him some personal space.

But you couldn’t because when you pulled away he grabbed your forearms pulling you to your previous spot which was closer to him.

He trailed his hands gently down your arms, grasping your hands in his own.

“It’s okay. You’re right. I just, really didn’t know,” He said tenderly.

His voice is only loud enough to reach your ears, and your ears alone.

“If you ever need me to urgently help out with Yerim, I don’t mind…” You said, trying to ignore the close proximity between the two of you and the very much intentional hand-holding.

Everything felt still and peaceful,

Perhaps it was due to the school being mainly empty and the sky getting darker but for a moment things stopped for a second, it was just you two in each other’s company while silence encompassed the two of you.

“It’s nice having someone like you care so much for her...and me as well. I’ll keep that in mind.” he gave your hands a soft squeeze.

Ignoring the heat rising to your face, you sent him a bashful smile.

"Uhh, you should get going…" You said uncertainly, trying to be responsible, but you knew deep down that you didn't want to let go of him just yet.

"You're right… Before I leave, can I have your number? For emergencies, like you said." He uttered out, letting go of your hands to reach for his phone, causing you to realize how warm his hands were keeping yours.

“I actually still need to return your blazer…” you mumbled mindlessly, as you took his phone, typing away.

He chuckled, placing his hand on the back of his neck, “Right, I almost forgot! Seems I remembered everything else about you that day except that,” he said, only to somewhat regret his ambiguous words after they came out of his mouth.

You nodded, unsure exactly what he entailed, but you had a good idea of what he may have been referring to.

You awkwardly exchanged numbers with him before you both parted ways.

This was a bad idea…Offering up your services just like that… Especially since it’s not null of selfish intentions.

But, for now, if no one is getting harmed, then, whatever.

You’ll handle what comes when you get there if you get there.

So lil time skip of about two weeks and you’re chilling, procrastinating the cleanup that you should be doing this Friday afternoon when you get a notification— Seonghwa’s name appearing on screen.

Hey, I know this is a bit sudden, but it’s the end of our business quarter and I have to stay late. Yerim will be all alone at home and no one will be there until 11pm. I’m sorry to ask this of you, but would you be willing to look after her? I promise I’ll compensate you generously.

Are you really about to look after this dude’s kid because you think he’s hot when you could rather be hanging out with friends or watching movies (or actually cleaning)?

Yeah. deal with it.

Of course! I don’t mind at all. Is there anything particular I should know (like should I bring her dinner or-)? And I hope we can discuss the compensation when you arrive home :)

Oh man… your mind really shouldn’t be jumping the gun here but it’s like, really really hard to not think about this scenario playing out…

What scenario?

Him compensating for this through physical means instead-

Iykyk.

He lets you know that there are some leftovers in the fridge that you can heat up for Yerim and sends you his address.

On your way there you can’t help but wonder why his wife isn’t there or a caretaker for Yerim. Is she also working late or are they not staying with each other..? It’s none of your business but of course, you were curious.

The whole situation just seemed weird to you so perhaps you’d see if you can figure something out from Yerim.

Upon arriving, your jaw dropped at how fancy the place was. Like yeah, he seemed like he had a decent job but to be raking in this much money? Damn…

There was a glass staircase, floors made of marble, and art pieces that you knew only wealthy people have the privilege of buying, and let’s not forget the fancy security system, that Seonghwa so graciously gave you the password to.

You laid your things down, calling out to Yerim before she shouts that she was coming.

You see her scurry down the stairs, running towards you to give you a hug. You pick her up, amused by her excitement.

“Y/n! Are you looking after me?” She asks with bright eyes and you give her a nod to which she smiles, elated.

“But your dad gave me some rules to follow and I don’t want to get in trouble. I’m sure you don’t either, right?”

She eagerly nodded, seeming to have a war flashback to when her dad got mad at her.

“Then let’s be good, alright?” You chuckled at her reaction.

You set her down, and after exploring the house nonchalantly, you played with her a bit before letting her go do her own thing in her room.

While silence filled the floor you were on, the various things lying around in the house piqued your interest.

You walked up to a small desk that had very few minimalistic ornaments and three frames, as well as some flowers that seemed to have started withering.

Upon further inspection, you realized that in the frame were Yerim, Seonghwa, and the infamous Mrs. Park. You couldn’t help but scoff at how pretty she was. Bright, bold eyes, thick heart-shaped lips, a small nose, a long neck giving her an elegant appearance, dark raven hair, and a nice figure to top it all off.

You’d be lying if you said Seonghwa and her didn’t look beautiful together.

In fact, they must’ve been the talk of their neighborhood with how well they visually complemented each other. People likely gushing over what a pretty couple they make.

You placed the frame down, picking up the vase of flowers, wanting to change the browning water.

You didn’t understand why, but you felt a bit bitter while staring at the photos.

Maybe it was because of your obvious attraction to Seonghwa or maybe it was because through small anecdotes you’ve figured out that she’s seemingly neglectful to her family.

Either way, despite her being beautiful, it irked you to stay staring at the sweet family photos.

You walked away busying yourself with the vase, thinking of how interesting it is…

They look like the perfect family in those photos, happy as ever…Meanwhile, Seonghwa has revealed to you how stressed and strained his relationship was, and you’ve witnessed Yerim look dejected whenever her mom or sometimes even her father failed to show up to school events.

When placing the flowers back in their original place, you shook your head, trying to get your thoughts in order as you made your way elsewhere in the house.

You sunk into the couch like a melting slug, wondering if this was a good idea.

‘This’ as in you taking time to somehow be involved in his life, even if it’s indirect.

It’s harmless now; you’re just some young person crushing on Seonghwa and using opportunities to see him…

The problem comes if he tempts you to throw away your self-control or even vice versa (since you know you don’t do too much thinking when around Seonghwa), and if things start escalating…

With a heavy sigh leaving your mouth, you decide that as long as you don’t overstep your boundaries, you should be fine…Right?

It isn’t long before you heat up those leftovers for Yerim and make a little plate of something for yourself.

You help her get ready for bed, as it starts getting later. You try to make it entertaining and fun for her since she seemed to be a little hesitant to sleep until her dad came home.

Through what Yerim said, it seemed like her mom hasn’t been home for the past few days.

Tucking her in bed, after reading a short story book you found lying around on the bookshelf in her room, you sat there listening as she told you about her favorite character from that book.

You chuckled at the absurd reasons she gave as to why that character was her favorite, such as the fact that they liked cereal bars and she liked them too even though some people in her class would tease her because they hated them.

While pulling the duvet up to her head as she dosed off after rambling, you gave her a gentle kiss on the forehead. You stood up switching off the lights before stopping in your tracks as she called your name.

“Y/n..?”

You turned around waiting for her to continue,

“Can you come over more often?”

You couldn’t help but furrow your eyebrows in confusion at the request.

“Hmm? Why?”

“Well, you tuck me in and it’s fun when you’re around…Plus Daddy smiles whenever I talk about you so I think he likes you.”

Does she not normally get tucked in? Does Seonghwa talk about me with her a lot?

You gave her a soft smile, “Goodnight Yerim.”

You headed downstairs, cleaning up the place a bit and doing the dishes before settling on the couch, watching whatever show was on as you waited for Seonghwa.

It was twenty minutes in when you realized looking after kids is no joke, even when they aren’t causing trouble. You were totally ready to have a nice rest after this.

You were fighting your sleep when 11:30pm hit but thankfully It wasn’t long until you heard the front door open, followed by the sound of business shoes hitting the marble.

You stretched your arms and legs, standing up and switching the TV off, turning around to look towards the hallway entrance,

“Welcome home!” You sang out to Seonghwa, who was startled at the greeting.

His tired eyes lit up at the sight of you and he let out a breathy chuckle, as he took off his coat, hanging it on the hooks near the front.

He was wearing a white dress shirt with a patterned tie and black slacks, and damn, did he look fucking hot.

You were a little embarrassed that it didn’t take much for you to get flustered and worked up but his appearance was rather stunning for someone who spent the whole day at work.

He ruffled his hair a bit, and loosened his tie, walking over towards you with a genuine smile.

“I can’t remember the last time I heard someone welcome me home,” he uttered, popping a few more buttons open, and folding up his sleeves, revealing his toned arms that you vaguely remember, “normally Yerim is either asleep when I get home, or otherwise I fetched her from school and we both came home together…” He trails off to which you nod, shyly petting your hair down, suddenly a little more conscious of your own appearance.

He comes to a stop in front of you, tilting his head, looking at you tenderly.

“It’s nice hearing it, especially so sincerely…”

You open your mouth to say something, only to close it, not fully sure how to respond. You look down to the floor, fumbling over what to say. Normally you’d be a lot quicker, but of course, it seems nothing really is normal when it comes to your behavior around Mr. Park.

He didn’t think much, before reaching out to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear, cradling your cheek in his palm just after. You felt your breath hitch, realizing that even if you tried to speak, you’d choke on your own words.

WHAT WAS HE DOING RN??? HELLO SIR???

He brushed his thumb against your cheek, and you were honestly, just stumped.

You didn’t know what was going on but you dreamt of this touch for far too long to slap him away like you probably should have.

“Sorry, you had some type of fluff on your cheek,” he uttered, removing his hand which you had to stop yourself from chasing.

Really..? Fluff?

You couldn’t tell if he was serious or just using an excuse…

You knew you liked him and further, you knew the attraction was mutual, but for some reason, it still all felt a bit surreal.

“Was everything okay here? Did Yerim cause you any trouble?” He said gently, his voice low.

“No, not at all! The worst thing she did was tire me out a little bit, but nothing I’m not capable of managing,” you let out an airy chuckle, opting to bite your lip just after feeling slightly awkward.

He made you nervous in a good way, but also in a way you didn’t know how to handle.

“Oh? It’s a shame. I was hoping I’d be the one responsible for tiring you out tonight,” He chuckled before immediately dying down as he processed what he just said and openly insinuated.

You almost choked, but swallowed the lump in your throat down instead.

Did he just-

What in the Wattpad was going on?

Not that you minded, I mean the delusional self in you was jumping at this.

Even so, outwardly you had no idea how to respond, feeling overwhelmed enough to just laugh nervously, and beyond your better judgment say this:

“We haven’t exactly discussed my compensation yet, Mr. Park.”

Oh fuck.

Oh.

Fuck.

You said that. YOU REALLY SAID THAT???

Panic.

He scoffs, looking away and you catch a glimpse of his reddening ears.

“You’re driving me mad” he utters under his breath, seemingly to himself, but you could obviously hear his words...

“Why the sudden formalities? ‘Mr. Park’? Y/n, surely you know by now…” His voice was low and his actions bold as he placed his hand against your waist, leaning over so that his lips were brushing against your ear.

It was giving you flashbacks of when you first met and your heart raced once again at the proximity.

“I like it when you call me by my name.”

He was firm in what he said, and his voice sounded different from anything you’ve heard before.

It took everything in you to keep standing, your legs threatening to cave in.

You placed your hands against his shoulders, both yours and his touch rather chaste considering the connotation of your words.

“Is that so? Maybe I need a reason to do that in the first place…” You uttered out, breath shaky and mind foggy.

You were hoping he understood what you meant by that, your dazed state not even concerned for any rationality.

He tightened his grip against your waist, letting his head drop against your neck as he chuckled.

“I don’t know what to do with you, Y/n,” he said, now with a lighter tone laced with uncertainty.

It was a small call to reality, but he wasn’t making any action to let you go.

In fact, he only wrapped his other arm around you, pulling his head away to look at you, rather intensely at that-

You felt a little doubtful under his gaze.

You could see a swirl of emotions in his eyes and he no doubt was feeling similar to you, but there was moral conflict tearing you both away from your desires.

“Sorry-” you whispered out, unable to come up with something better, only to be cut off.

“I do know, however— that I want you.”

Your breath hitched and you subconsciously slid your hands higher, wrapping them around his neck, hinting to him that the feelings are mutual.

He wanted to hear it said from you directly though. Not willing to take a chance at this moment, he pulled you closer.

“So tell me…” He trailed, eyeing your expression carefully as he brought one hand to cradle your face just as before, “What do you want?”

Oh, fuck this. Consequences can wait.

You leaned in, brushing your lips against his.

“This,”

You closed the gap between you two, finally able to feel his lips against yours.

#〘manga; writing✎ᝰ〙#ateez #ateez seonghwa #ateez scenarios #ateez au #ateez fanfic #ateez drabbles #ateez reactions #AYOOOOOOOOO

94 notes · View notes

spaceyaceface · 10 months

Text

Anger - Safety Ch 5

Ominis Gaunt x f!Ravenclaw!Reader (Reader is not MC)

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: Fighting, angst

Summary: Y/N L/N had always despised Ominis Gaunt. He was everything she hated about her life. As the only daughter to a wealthy pure-blood family, she knew it was inevitable that she would someday find herself in an arranged marriage.

But why did it have to be him?

Or, a classic arranged marriage, enemies to lovers, slow burn.

Also available on AO3

Chapter One | Chapter Four

Ominis tapped his foot as he leaned against the common room wall, lost in thought at what he’d done not long before.

He’d shown her the Undercroft. It had taken him a good year or two before he’d even shown Anne and Sebastian—and yet, after no more than a few conversations, he’d brought her down there to bask in his safe haven.

And he hadn’t even stopped there; no, he’d gone on to tell her more secrets, giving them up before he had a chance to reconsider.

The strangest part of it all was that he couldn’t find it in himself to regret it.

Because she’d opened as well. In so few words, they came to the realization that they were both a bit broken, a bit bitter about the things that had been done to them. They’d admitted they still lived in fear of what could come next.

And in the end, she called him Ominis.

It was curious how impactful hearing his name from her lips was. Before, she’d only referred to him as Gaunt. Her switch, though there was likely no thought behind it, made a strange warmth blossom inside him. Perhaps she was finally seeing he was truly not like his family.

It was an odd bond they were forming—he knew that. They’d been pushed together by forces they hated, but found something… decent. Something worthwhile. She’d said it herself; if those same forces hadn’t put a wedge between them many years before, maybe they’d have had that bond—that friendship—earlier.

Friend. Ominis found himself smiling a bit at that as he walked up the stairs to his dorm room, the night having grown very late. He’d found refuge in Sebastian and Anne for so long, not feeling it was worth the risk to go beyond the careful world he’d built. But maybe it was finally time to open the door once more.

She tried to walk in quietly. The hour was late—or perhaps it was better to call it early at that point. She’d stayed in the Undercroft for quite some time, lost in her thoughts. It was soothing, being in a place where she knew no one would disturb her. In all honesty, she’d lost track of how long it had been, and rushed back up the Ravenclaw tower as soon as it hit her.

Unfortunately, the common room wasn’t as empty as she would have liked.

Constance sat on the couch, arms folded. Her face was mostly covered in shadow, the room dark, but Y/N could imagine the deep frown on her friend’s face.

“Are you aware it’s nearly three in the morning?” Constance said. Y/N winced.

“I am now. Honestly, I lost track of time,” she said honestly.

“Well I sure didn’t. It’s been nine hours since I saw you last, would you care to explain what on earth happened in that time?”

She sighed heavily, plopping down on the sofa next to her friend. “I’m sorry.”

Constance’s frown softened a bit. “I’ve just been worried about you.. You’ve been off for some time now, and then you get called into Black’s office… what’s going on?”

The truth burned in her throat. She wanted to tell her, confide in her. But… but how do you tell your best friend your life had all but ended, and there was nothing you could do about it?

Her blonde friend would do something stupid, she was sure of it. She’d write a letter to her parents herself, insist on making plans to run away, challenge her father to a duel… she just didn’t understand. Couldn’t understand.

So she decided to bend the truth. Just enough.

“My parents came to talk to me,” she said. Constance’s eyes widened. In their years of friendship, she’d never met her parents—she was very careful to avoid that, given they would have been extremely upset about Constance’s blood status.

“They were here? They came all the way to Hogwarts? What for?”

“They… they wanted to talk about my… future. My father doesn’t really want me to have a career or anything—”

Constance scoffed. “Doesn’t want you to have a career? With your skill? What’s he on about?”

“He just wants me to settle down with… with someone and produce an heir,” she said. “That’s how things are done in some pureblood families, like mine. He came to insist I stop arguing and follow the tradition.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Constance said. “You told him off, didn’t you?”

She stayed quiet for a moment. “I told him what I needed to.”

Her friend’s brows furrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean? Are you just going to roll over and play dead just because he tells you to?”

Y/N sighed. This was exactly why she couldn’t tell her everything. “It means it’s a lot more delicate that you realize, Constance. I’m doing what I can. Trust me.” Her voice was firm, but Constance only frowned deeper.

“And where were you after that?” Constance demanded.

“Taking some time to clear my head,” she said simply.

“Alone?”

“Yes.”

Constance stared her in the eyes, and she stared right back, hoping she couldn’t see any lie that might show itself there.

“And what does any of this have to do with Gaunt?”

She willed her face to remain straight. “Nothing.”

Constance didn’t believe her. It was obvious in the way she scrunched up her nose, the way her eyes narrowed. But Y/N held firm, making it clear she wasn’t going to give anything else up.

“Fine,” Constance said softly. “We should get to bed. It’s late.”

Without another word, Constance stood up and left for their dorm, and Y/N let her careful demeanor collapse. She’d get over this, she told herself. There were just some things she couldn’t understand. Things she didn’t ever want her friend to understand.

She got up and walked to her bed, collapsing onto it without bothering to change out of her robes.

It would be fine.

The next morning, though a little tense, passed without much incident. Constance was a bit short in her replies, but they still ate breakfast together and walked to class just as they normally did. Y/N was feeling much better about the two of them getting past this by the time the two separated for classes. She headed off to Ancient Runes, her favorite subject, while Constance went back to the common room for her free period.

After being given the task of writing a ten inch essay on a particular artifact, Y/N went back to her dorm to see Constance. She opened the door, knowing Constance was on the other side.

“Blimey, as much as I love Ancient Runes, it keeps me too busy. If I wasn’t going into the department of—”

She froze, taking in the hard expression on Constance’s face. She had a letter clutched tightly in her hand, and Y/N would recognize the wax seal anywhere, even after it had been broken

“Where… where did you get that?” she said softly, straightening.

“Your owl dropped it on your bed,” Constance answered, taking a step closer to her. “It’s from your parents.”

She ripped the letter from her friend’s hand, opening and unfolding it quickly. A quick scan over the words confirmed her worst fears—it was more threats from her father, reiterating his visit the day before and telling her that she should consider herself lucky a family like the Gaunts would allow her to join them.

“You stole it and read it?” she asked, looking back up to her friend, voice shaking with barely controlled anger.

“I knew you weren’t telling me everything,” Constance said.

“What gave you the right to—”

“I’ve been worried about you,” Constance interrupted. “You haven’t been yourself, and I knew it had something to do with Gaunt. Why on earth didn’t you tell me?”

“This is my problem,” she said, voice trembling. “I don’t need you fighting my battles for me.”

“The way that letter sounded, you’re not fighting at all.”

“You don’t—”

“It’s too bad your parents aren’t still here, I would’ve given them a piece of my mind just like I did Gaunt.”

It was like a bucket of ice water had been poured over her, a chill striking her body. “You… you talked to Ominis?”

Constance frowned. “What was I supposed to do? Let him stake his claim over my best friend with no consequences?”

“What did you say to him?” she demanded.

Constance narrowed her eyes. “Nothing you wouldn’t have said.”

Her heart dropped. The girl Constance knew would have said horrible things. Hurtful things. Things that weren’t true in the slightest. She’d fed her friend years and years worth of complaints and rumors, taking out the anger and resentment of the life she was forced to live on a boy she never even knew. She’d said enough of those things to his face already, but that had been just scratching the surface. If Constance had repeated a fraction of what she’d told her over the years…

She turned toward the door, determined to set things right as soon as possible. But a hard grip on her arm tugged her back, and she whipped back around to face Constance with a glare.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Constance asked.

“To apologize to Ominis.”

Her friend’s mouth fell open before contorting to an absolutely furious expression. “You’re apologizing to him? Isn’t it me you’ve been lying to this whole time?”

“You don’t understand!” she spat out, retching her arm free from the blonde’s hold. “Things are different. He’s different, I was wrong—”

“Does he have you under the Imperius Curse?” Constance said sharply. “Because last I checked, you hated him.”

Her jaw dropped at the accusation, but Constance kept going.

“Last I checked, you hated your parents and the things they stood for. Now here you are, off to marry Ominis Gaunt without a complaint, like the obedient daughter you used to despise.”

Constance didn’t know, she tried to remind herself. She didn’t know the first thing about playing with fire. Of walking on embers and trying not to be burned. She didn’t know how it felt to be backed into a corner when the world caught fire around her. She didn’t know a life of fear.

“You don’t know anything,” she hissed. She didn’t even catch a glimpse at the way Constance’s face fell as she turned heel and fled from the room.

The letter was still gripped in her hand, but she hardly noticed as she left the common room, her soul focus on finding the one soul that knew anything of burning houses and life breathing smoke.

She had to find him. Had to tell him what Constance said wasn’t true, that God, she was wrong, she was so wrong, please I need someone to burn with—

But finding him was proving to be much harder than she would have liked. It was possible that he was somewhere she couldn’t go—like the Slytherin common room. But she asked a few Slytherin students, who looked at her strangely as they heard the frantic tone of her voice, and confirmed that he hadn’t gone up there after class.

Just before dinner she realized what an idiot she’d been. The Undercoft, of course. As students rushed toward the Great Hall, she moved against the flow to the Defense Against the Dark Arts tower.

And finally, she spotted him.

“Ominis!” she called out, rushing to him. He hadn’t entered the Undercoft—not yet—but he had been heading towards it. He turned around, the wand in his hand glowing with it’s soft red light.

“Ominis, I’ve been trying to find, you I’m so—”

“Has it occurred to you I didn’t want to be found?” he spat out, his tone bitter.

She stopped in her tracks. “I… I needed to talk to you.”

“I think you’re friend did quite enough talking,” he seethed, turning toward the Undercroft once more.

She reached out, trying to grab his wrist, but he shook her off. His face was twisted in anger—in pain.

God, what had she done?

“What?” he growled out. “What more could you possibly have to add to her words?”

“Nothing,” she breathed out. “Do you think I asked her to say those things?”

“It seems you didn’t have to,” he said quietly.

Tears began to blur her vision. He was slipping away—there was nothing she could do. “Ominis,” she begged. “Ominis, please.”

“I shouldn’t have let you in,” he said softly, turning to leave once more. “I should never have let you in.”

And then he was gone, leaving her alone with tears streaming down her face.

She skipped dinner for the second night in a row. She felt like a ghost as she floated through the halls, trying to be numb to all that had happened. But it was impossible—it wasn’t long until it hit her full force and she had to stop walking, sitting on a bench in the courtyard she’d wandered into. The cool of the evening air helped her to breathe, but it still didn’t help much.

That’s when it occurred to her that she was completely and utterly on her own.

She hadn’t felt like this since she was a child, hiding away in the manor when Diane, the one servant who had ever treated her with kindness, left for a week’s time to help her dying mother. She remembered curling up against a wall, trying to blend in to the marble and telling herself that if she could just survive the week, she’d be alright.

But there was no end to the loneliness this time around. No one would be coming back. She’d ruined all of it.

It was amazing, really, how she had destroyed everything in one fell swoop. She should try to fix things with Constance, but she doubted an apology would settle this so easily. She’d made a choice when she chased after Ominis—one that surely let her friend assume where her loyalties lied. She’d chosen him, not her. Not her best friend who had sat by her side for nearly seven years.

Yet she couldn’t find it in herself to regret that choice. Not entirely.

The outcome had been her worst nightmare; but how could she have just let Ominis think a word of what was said was what she thought of him?

She buried her head in her hands as she thought about him, her heart aching. They had just become friends. Just barely started to build that trust, to acknowledge the understanding they had with one another.

And now it was gone.

The loss of that possibility made new tears flow as she sat there, regret tainting her every thought. How could she have made so many mistakes to lead to this?

Time passed by, and she still sat there, unsure of where else to go. She couldn’t go back to her common room. If she didn’t start yelling at her, Constance would likely just ignore her, and both of those options sounded like torture. The only other place she knew would grant her solitude was obviously not an option, as it was already occupied by the person who had showed it to her.

So she sat there, waiting for some prefect or professor to come by and give her detention as curfew came and went. She couldn’t find it in herself to care.

She thought that was exactly what happened when a figure appeared in the shadows, stopping quickly as it spotted her. It approached, and suddenly there was Sebastian Sallow—someone she knew for certain was not a prefect.

He frowned at her. She was sure she looked a mess—puffy eyes rimmed with red, hair mussed from running her hands through it. Still, she stared up at him, daring him to question her about it. He was Ominis’s friend. Surely he knew why his friend was off brooding somewhere, and would have a word or two to say about it, just like Constance had.

But instead, his expression softened and he tilted his head. “Are you alright?”

The tension in her shoulders released a bit, her preparations for being scolded melting away. “I… I’m fine,” she said softly. Yeah right. “Shouldn’t you be off with… with Ominis?”

The brunette pressed his lips together before coming to sit on the bench beside her. “That’s where I was heading. I wanted to give him some alone time to cool down after things with Constance… I’m guessing you ran into him in the meantime?”

She hung her head. “I went to try to apologize. He didn’t—well, he didn’t really let me.” She glanced up at him. “Is he alright?”

Sebastian chuckled. “He’s left you crying like this and you’re asking if he’s ok?”

“But it’s all my fault,” she pressed.

“Last I checked it was Constance who was telling him off, not you.”

“She was repeating things I’d told her,” she insisted. “And she wouldn’t have done it if I hadn’t lied to her about—about—”

“The engagement?” Sebastian finished.

She gaped up at him. “Did she tell you?” God, was she out there telling the whole school, on top of the damage she’d already done?

“No,” Sebastian said. “Ominis told me. I was with him when he got that first letter. I’ve always known.”

She let out a deep breath. At least there weren’t rumors being spread around—yet.

Sebastian’s brows furrowed. “You never told her?”

She shook her head softly. “You saw how she reacted tonight. She’s always insisted in trying to take things into her own hands, even when she’ll do more damage than good.”

“How did she find out?”

She sighed, passing him the crumpled letter that she’d still held through it all. Sebastian glanced over it as she spoke. “She stole it off my bed and read it while I was in class. She must have found Ominis in that time, too. We… we fought when I realized what she’d done.”

“Is that why you’re out here?”

A small nod was all she could muster as her eyes tears up once again. “I can’t face her right now,” she mumbled. “I can’t. I don’t know where to go.”

Sebastian sat there for a second, clearly thinking. “Ominis showed you the Undercroft last night, didn’t he?” he said.

“He told you that?”

“Yeah. Wanted to give me a heads up in case you showed up there.”

“Doesn’t really matter or not if he showed me,” she muttered. “He’s there right now. I can’t really face him, either.”

“Look,” Sebastian said. “I’ll talk to him tonight and get him up to our common room. Then you can stay the night in there.”

Her head shot up as she stared at him. “You’d do that for me?”

He nodded. “This whole thing is a mess. You’ve been hurt as much as anyone. Least I can do is help you get a good night’s sleep somewhere you can’t get detention.” He seemed to hesitate a moment before speaking. “The fact that Ominis ever showed you the Undercroft… he doesn’t trust easy. When he’s afraid of getting hurt, he throws up his walls. He says things he doesn’t mean. He’s always been that way.”

She stayed quiet, listening to him.

“He’ll come around. If he’s stuck by me for this long, after all the idiotic things I’ve done, you’ve got nothing to worry about.” He offered her a small smile. “Give me a few minutes. There’s blankets in the cabinet to the left once you get in there. I’ll go talk to him.”

“I—” She found herself getting choked up at his kindness. Sebastian had always been nice, as far as Syltherins went, but she’d never thought it would extend to her at a time like this. “Thank you, Sebastian. Ominis is lucky to have a friend like you.”

He bumped his shoulder with hers before he stood up. “He’s not the only one. I trust Ominis’s judgment. If he’s taken a shine to you, I’m sure I will, too.”

She gave him a small smile.

He began to retreat from the courtyard before looking back. “Remember, cabinet—”

“To the left,” she finished. “I’ve got it.”

The silence seemed louder with him gone, and her stomach churned in anxiety as she waited. Sebastian had been friends with Ominis for years—was he right? Would this all find a way to work out? She hoped so.

It was a good half an hour before she finally stood, legs stiff from staying in one spot for so long. The Undercroft was empty, just as Sebastian promised it would be. She was grateful all over again as she pulled the blankets from the cupboard, laying them out and curling up in their warmth.

Sleep was slow in coming as the events of the last two days replayed painfully in her head. She wasn’t sure how she would mend things with Constance. Or if her newly formed friendships with Ominis and Sebastian would survive. She wasn’t sure of anything, and it scared her.

What scared her most was the small bit of hope trying to ignite itself in her chest.

Chapter Six

A/N: oops :)

TAGLIST:

@skarathewitch @cherryflavoredcoke @phoenix666stuff @wt-fxck @shameless0shenanigans @fitzs-trained-monkey @mxmia @vee-mage

#ominis gaunt #ominis gaunt x reader #ominis gaunt x mc #ominis gaunt x you #ominis x reader #ominis gaunt safety #ominis x mc #ominis x you #ominis gaunt fanfiction #hogwarts legacy #ominis gaunt imagine

104 notes · View notes

marimelwrites · 4 months

Note

“🌿🍒” / honestly, I would take this for anyone, but can you imagine how cute ava and emir would be? (also, taner and liliana/henrik and mediha if you're feeling it)

From this Mistletoe Christmas prompt meme here!

>>>Emir & Ava

Whenever the holidays came about, Ava always loved the change of pace that came along with it. Was she the sort of person who would take all of that time off without seeing the ice? No, but she did know how to scale back ice time and allow herself a moment to enjoy the holiday with the people she loved and cared about most. An added bonus? This was a time that she even still got to spend with Emir.

A part of her considered that maybe they needed a break from each other every now and again, but she never needed it. She never wanted it, if she was being completely honest with herself. Emir was the person she could always guarantee she'd never be sick of. On this particular occasion, Ava's parents invited Emir and his family over for their annual holiday party. Family came, friends, plenty of people Ava had seen countless amounts of times over the years.

With the party in full swing, Ava snuck away from the commotion in hopes of a little quiet. Despite participating in a sport that was televised, and had a decent following, particularly during the Olympics, she never had handled crowds and attention well. That was why Emir was so vital to her. He had always been her stability, her calm, her strength. Stopping in the middle of her parent's home, a place she hadn't lived now for years, she took in all the beautiful decorations with a smile all while breathing in a sigh of relief.

The sound of another person joining her caught her attention. Perhaps it was the years spent with one person, that she was able to know exactly who it was from the sound of their footsteps. The realization that it was Emir only made the smile on her face grow before she turned around to face him, and held a hand out for him to take.

It had always felt easy, being around Emir, excluding their moment of difficulties. Things were better now. Wonderful. And even with that familiarity, she still had a shyness to her, as if everything were always new. Her cheeks flushed, and she felt the same butterflies in her stomach that always appeared at the sight of him.

"Look up..." she whispered, looking up after he did. Her gaze fell to his and she touched a hand to either side of his face to guide him towards her gently as she lifted up on her toes so she could kiss him softly before pulling back just the slightest bit and adding, "Merry Christmas, Emir."

>>>Liliana & Taner

It had been no secret, Taner's interest in Liliana. He wasn't the sort of man to hide something like that, confident as he was. Some would say, obnoxiously overconfident. In fact, when he thought about it, he was pretty sure that "some" would be Liliana. Still, that never stopped him from trying. After all, she had always been worth it. He'd known that from the moment he'd met her.

Taner assumed that, at some point, Liliana would understand that his attention towards her wasn't fleeting. Maybe then, she might want to give him the time of day. No matter what, he never turned his attention elsewhere, he couldn't.

Despite that, he wondered if his little plan for today might take things a little too far. In fact, it might end up with him being smacked. It was worth a shot. After all, it was the holidays and sometimes a little good cheer would help things along. Maybe. Possibly. Probably not, but he was still going to try.

He had effectively dragged Liliana outside with him, and he'd been shocked to hear her agree. Nevertheless, he stopped with her in front of the outdoor decorations that had been set up for all the tourists to see and grinned. "You know, the sight never gets old," he muttered as his eyes took in the giant tree all lit up and decorated.

Turning to her, he stuck his hand in his pocket, "That's not all though, I've got a few more stops to see, but before that..."

He pulled out a piece of mistletoe and held it above their heads. "Gotta keep up tradition, right?" Not wanting to get himself thoroughly beat for taking too many liberties, he bent down to place a kiss on her cheek.

As he pulled back, he held out the mistletoe for her, "Here, I'll even let you have it in case you wanna pull that trick on other people. Either way, Merry Christmas. Thanks for joining me out here." What he didn't say is that sometimes it got lonely when he couldn't really go back home and visit his family for whatever reason, and that having her company today meant more than he could say.

>>>Henrik & Mediha

As far as holidays went, Mediha had never really felt much of the spirit. Her family had never included her much, which was no surprise, considering the number of them that there were. She wasn't even close to the favorite, but she'd never complained. Being in a whole different country with another family was an entirely new experience. In some ways, it was so much better. In other ways... worse. It didn't matter that her betrothed was almost never at events, parties, dinners with her. In the end, she had Henrik's company, even if a part of her was sure it was likely solely out of pity. He had always been kind to her, and for that she would be grateful.

With the celebrations winding down, she found herself strolling through corridors beside Henrik. Glancing over at him, she felt herself flush at just the mere sight of him, and quickly turned her attention to the corridor ahead. It always surprised her how her heartbeat would speed up around him, or at the sight of him. How she felt flushed every single time she was near him.

Gathering up the courage, she said, "That was a lovely dinner... I think everyone was enjoying themselves with the celebrations." She tried not to cringe at the silly conversation, and slowed them to a stop.

After a moment, she spoke again, "Thank you for your company today. I hope that I did not stop you from enjoying the festivities." Her eyes went from him, to all the decorations around them, catching sight of the mistletoe hanging above them. She wondered if she should simply ignore it, and move on, but when her gaze found Henrik again, she realized he had noticed it as well.

Mediha stood quietly, considering her options. She could wait for him to do something, she could ignore it, or... she could act. There was a certain level of propriety that was expected of her when she was around the brother of her intended. Her own feelings were unimportant. Despite that, she couldn't help but wonder, for the millionth time, if things would have been different if she had been promised to him.

She stepped towards him, placing a hand on his arm gently before leaning up to kiss his cheek softly, lingering for just a moment before pulling back. She blushed as she pulled back and then looked in the direction they'd been walking before taking a couple of steps and pausing again. "We should probably continue walking... and Henrik..." She looked back at him once more, "Thank you for a beautiful Christmas..."

>>>Bonus because It's Christmas! Joel & Derya

The holiday party for the rink was always a good time of the year. Everyone from athletes of all the sports, to the coaches, to all the staff and trainers who worked there. People were encouraged to bring friends, family, or dates and it always seemed incredibly more chaotic than any other time of year. It always surprised her, how well the staff were able to decorate a place they spent every single day of their lives.

Derya, being a figure skater who wasn't paired with a partner, always found herself alone for this party every year. Her parents never came, and she didn't have friends who weren't already other athletes, really.

She had just come from a quiet room where she had tested her levels to make sure she wouldn't have some sort of episode while trying to enjoy herself. No matter what, she always had to watch for her health, that had to come first.

As she exited the room, however, she ran directly into a very solid body, causing her to stumble for a step back before she looked at who she had run into. "Oh my gosh, Joel. You're like running into a whole brick wall," she teased with a soft laugh. Their height difference left her looking up at him in order to see his face, that line of sight showed her an object hanging over the both of them. Something that caused her to gasp.

Her gaze immediately fell back to Joel's face. Her face was red, showing her embarrassment before she could register any other emotion. "Is that mistletoe... or did I imagine it?" She asked, pointing above their heads, and waiting for him to verify. Derya didn't actually need him to verify whether it was, or not, but when he did, she felt as if the floor below them had dropped out.

Okay. That was fine. It was okay to have to kiss someone you had a crush on because of mistletoe, right? It wasn't a big deal. This might be her one pass where nobody tried to read more into it than she was sure Joel would want. The last thing he might want is for her to kiss him, but she could make it quick.

"I..." He was tall, so much taller than her, and even with her wearing very high heels, she still noticed the height difference between them. Still, the added height allowed her a chance to reach up, touching the side of his face opposite from where she placed a quick kiss on his cheek before drawing back and clasping her hands together before her. "For the sake of tradition," she breathed out.

Her eyes chanced a look up before dropping when she lost her nerve to see what his reaction is. "Um... Merry Christmas, Joel and... uh... sorry, about the whole. I... maybe we should get back to the party?" She bit her lip. "You look really nice, by the way..." With that she spun around and rushed away before she made a bigger fool of herself.

#erstwhles #ref: emir x ava #ref: liliana x taner #ref: henrik x mediha #ref: joel x derya #ask meme answered #//so here are a BUNCH of short stories apparently #tw: long post

3 notes · View notes

almost-a-class-act · 1 year

Text

Happy belated Pacific appreciation week!

Prompt: Day 7 ( February 12th ): Domestic Fluff Pairing: Sid/Mary/Eugene Author's note: And we've reached the final prompt! This is maybe my first published poly ship? I'm working on a longer postwar fic for these three now because they're pretty cute and I don't have enough ongoing writing projects I guess. (!!) As with the first several stories this will probably end up on AO3 after I have some time to go over it. You can find me there under roaroftheninth.

Many people – perhaps most people – spend varying amounts of their time, inside of whatever place of worship they frequent and outside of it, asking God for favours. It is a tenuous, complicated thing, to be alive, to be awarded circumstances for which you have not asked – to have to make the best of it. For a lot of folks, their best case scenario leaves a lot to be desired, and while prayer is no guarantee, it also doesn’t cost anything.

Sid hasn’t asked for anything in a long time.

In that sweltering little church at the height of summer, sweat running down his back and soaking into his shirt under his jacket, he wonders at that, picking it gently apart in his mind, the way he carefully considers most things. He is a good person, he thinks, on balance – and soon he’ll be a doctor, officially, which means that, over the long curve of his life, he might end up saving far more lives than he ever took. He is the kind of good that shows up for his family, tries to be a decent neighbour, puts money in the plate when it comes around, and helps his friends when they need him.

But he is not a great person. He is not going to give up everything his parents are likely to leave him, his home and the people he loves, to travel to distant places trying to save people. He did things on Guadalcanal and Gloucester that he wishes he could forget, and came back without a scratch on him while unequivocally better men than he never made it out of that torment of a jungle. He never did anything especially heroic, did his part but never went out of his way. He knows himself well enough to know that he is not going to change the world.

And he is not, he can admit ruefully to himself, paying attention during this sermon, a wisp of a sin on top of the others which might nevertheless be counted.

So it doesn’t make much sense that he has everything he could want, against nearly impossible odds – that everything worked out for him, even though there is no rational reason why it should have, and every rational reason why it should have gotten caught on one of life’s many snags. But he does have everything he could want, and it did work out, and today as always, he tries his best to tread lightly in God’s presence. He is continually grateful. He wants for nothing.

He has both of his people on either side of him, Eugene sober and sat up straight, listening intently, and Mary with her knee pressed gently against his, fanning herself in the heat. God willing, he gets to keep this.

God willing, he gets to keep them.

Mary is incredibly gifted at the socializing that follows immediately after the service, and today as always, Sid mostly watches, letting himself be pulled into conversations here and there, a smile and a “yes, Mrs. Phillips” when she volunteers him for social occasions and neighbourly assistance that she knows he won’t mind doing. He drifts back to find Eugene almost automatically after a while, precisely aware of him as always, and they watch Mary flit from group to group, laughing, a midsummer spark that draws the eye.

They are both convinced that Mary is the glue that holds the world together.

Mary, who is so effective at making sure they are valued members of the community, above reproach.

(Mary, who could teach a master class in deftly turning away questions about why her husband’s best friend has been living with them for the past three years and shows no signs of moving on.)

When at last she returns to them and they head home, unhurried and on foot since the sun is gloriously out and the journey is not far, Mary assertively hooks her arms through both of theirs.

“Sidney Phillips, where on earth do you go during those sermons?” she asks, out with it at once, like she’s been waiting to ask for the last half hour. However bright and lively she is with other people, her sharpest, most attentive warmth, is saved for them.

“Me?” Sid asks, surprised by the question.

“Yes, you.”

Sid shakes his head, because part of treading lightly in God’s presence means that he doesn’t talk about how very lucky he is aloud. There is no sense in calling attention to it. “Nowhere.”

Mary, who has seen directly and completely through him since they were children, deliberately steps a little to the side, bumping him gently. “Liar.”

Sid glances across her at Eugene, who looks altogether too much like he thinks this is funny.

“Come on, Gene,” he says, gently drawing him in, the way he always will. He and Mary haven’t been the more established unit with Eugene on the outside for a long time, in as much as they ever were, but maybe it’s always been a habit of his, to find Eugene and include him, wherever they are – whoever they’re with. “You can’t let her defame me like this.”

Eugene’s eyes are warm, affectionate and unburdened for once, a smile tucked into the corner of his mouth. Sid chases that smile often, seizes on it when they get it. “Shame on you, Sid," he says. "Three things are certain in life – death, taxes, and that Mary Houston Phillips is always and unequivocally right, and I’m not even so sure about the first two.”

“Oh, I see,” he says, feigning indignation. He is not especially skilled at it, and it does not hide the geniality underneath. “Ganging up on me.”

Eugene tilts his head in affirmation, amused. “The first mistake you made was assuming I was going to be on your side.”

“I don’t go anywhere,” Sid protests. “I just get to thinking. That’s all.”

Eugene’s smirk widens. “Deep thoughts, I’m sure.”

“Occasionally, one floats by,” he returns, airy and mischievous.

“Well, wherever it is,” Mary interjects. “Next time, take me with you. I swear they get longer every week.”

The day is warm enough already that the talk turns to cold drinks and shaded porches, the way it often does, and when they reach the house, Sid slows at the top of the steps. He watches them pass over the threshold together, Eugene leaning down to murmur something to Mary that makes her laugh and glance back over her shoulder at him, bright-eyed and fond.

“What are you looking at?” she asks.

“You,” he says, honestly.

She trades glances with Eugene, who hisses a laugh from behind his teeth. “Soft,” he assesses.

“I’m not soft,” he protests, though he is smiling, too, helplessly. “I’m just happy.”

Mary rolls her eyes affectionately. “Come on inside,” she tells him. “My goodness. The look in your eye sometimes.”

His smile widens. “Yes, ma’am.”

He is very loved. He can’t ask for anything more.

#tpweek2023 #hbowardaily #the pacific #fanfiction #roaroftheninth

9 notes · View notes

absolutepokemontrash · 3 years

Text

MC is Half Demon and They Look Awfully Familiar

(Underground Tomb edition!)

Hello friends and degenerate sinners, this is basically a mini headcanon set for Luci’s kid!MC about how the incident with Luke and the Grimoire would go down in this AU to tide you all over until Part 3 comes out! Enjoy!

It was a normal night in the good ol’ HOL... Lucifer was doing paperwork at an ungodly hour of the night, Beel was in the kitchen, and Mammon was screaming and running for dear life. Ah... sweet normalcy.

The custard incident remained the same, MC got force-fed custard and Beel threw a truly fantastic hunger tantrum that culminated in the wall connecting to MC’s room collapsing.

Cue lecture from Luci-father.

“I am very disappointed in you three.” Lucifer rubbed his temples as MC, Beel, and Mammon awkwardly stood in his room. Mammon of course, was trying to avoid the death glares MC was giving him. Poor bastard.

“Especially you two, MC and Beel.”

“Whuh?!” Mammon sputtered. “What about me?!”

“I expect this from you. These two on the other hand,” Lucifer raised an eyebrow at MC who was awkwardly trying to suppress a laugh at Mammon’s aghast expression. “Should know not to act like this.”

“We’re *snrk* sorry, father,” MC paused to try and muscle through a giggle. “It won’t happen again.”

“He ate my custard...” Beel pouted.

“So, MC won’t be able to use their room anymore due to the wall... collapsing.” Lucifer gave Beel a pointed glare.

Mammon smirked, and if he were sitting on a couch, we would have leaned back and kicked his feet up. “Well, obviously since I’m a kind and generous soul I’ll open up my room for poor MC to stay in. My babysittin’ rates are quite high though-”

“BABYSITTING?!” MC snarled, giving Mammon a death glare that could probably kill lesser demons.

Lucifer felt a twinge of pride upon seeing his child give someone his signature bone-chilling glare, if he weren’t supposed to be disappointed he would have given MC a pat on the head and let them hang Mammon from the ceiling.

“Uh- heh- MC, I’m your favourite uncle! Me babysittin’ ya should be an honour!” Mammon was sweating bullets and desperately looking to Beel for help.

“Levi is rapidly approaching favourite uncle status.” MC crossed their arms and huffed.

“Levi?! Wait- does that mean I was your favourite-”

Lucifer was almost tempted to stick MC in Mammon’s room just to have MC punish Mammon so he could get some sleep, tragically, his common sense won out. “MC will be staying with Beel. He has an extra bed in his room after all.”

MC looked over at Beel and smiled. “Could be worse, right? I’ll replace the custard.”

Beel’s smile upon hearing the last part could have lit up the entire Devildom. What a sweetie.

MC still chilled in Beel’s room. They finally got to ask more questions about Belphie, and Beel is more inclined to share what’s up because MC is his big bro’s kid after all!

Because of MC’s half demon-ness, they hadn’t met Belphie at that point in the story unlike in canon. They were just curious about their missing uncle. They ALSO already knew what Belphie looks like because Lucifer gave them an in depth tour of everything and he pointed out all the portraits.

MC, being the sadistic sweetheart they are, went out and bought themselves and Beel replacement custard. MC made sure to eat it right in front of Mammon.

But my oh my, who was texting them? *gasp!* Luke!

MC obviously let their little angel buddy into the house (Luke did not know about MC’s parental situation at that point, keep that in mind). Luke was fun to tease a little after all! And it was nice to have another kid around, but MC would never admit it.

Since MC had literally no reason to be afraid of their dear old dad, they went right up to him and asked him if Luke could stay over. No fear.

“Father?” MC leaned on the doorway to the backyard, Lucifer was playing fetch with Cerberus. MC had never seen someone play fetch so robotically.

“Yes, MC?” Cerberus’ middle head dropped a slobber covered squeaky toy into Lucifer’s gloved hand, the other two heads snapped at the middle one.

“Can I have a friend over?” MC asked, trotting over to give Cerberus some pets. On the first day the dog had tried to eat them, but after giving him some much tastier bacon treats, Cerberus was sweet as pie. Murderous and dangerous pie, that is.

“Do I know this friend?”

“Yes, it’s Luke. Can he stay over?”

Lucifer wrinkled his nose and rolled his eyes. “Cerberus is right here, you have access to a dog. Why on earth would you bring the chihuahua over?”

MC snorted and gave Cerberus’ right head some scratches behind the ears. “He’s not a chihuahua all the time, come on, it’s for the good of the exchange program!”

The two had a stare down for a little while, and to his absolute horror, Lucifer felt his resolve cracking. This child of his was too adorable for their own good. “Fine, MC.”

“Yes!” MC fist pumped as Cerberus’ middle and left heads tried to join in on the ear scritches.

“But note,” Lucifer continued. “I expect a full report to give to Lord Diavolo on this whole experience.”

MC frowned and debated sticking their tongue out at their father, they decided against it. “A paper? On a sleepover? Really?”

“Yes. Really.” Lucifer gave MC a flick on the nose. “Like you said, it has to do with the exchange program. Now go make sure the chihuahua doesn’t die and leave you with a mess to clean up.”

The look of complete terror Luke gave MC when they told him that Lucifer said he could stay over was completely worth the paper they were going to have to write.

“What?! You weren’t supposed to tell him I’m here!”

“He said you could stay.”

“Why?! Oh no... did he demand your soul as payment or something?! MC! You shouldn’t have put yourself in that nasty demon’s debt! Don’t worry, I’ll get your soul back somehow.”

MC should have been offended... but they weren’t. I mean, could you stay mad at Luke when he just offered to fight arguably the second most powerful demon in the Devildom to get your soul back?

Now that Luke’s presence in the house was known to everyone, the challenge was no longer keeping Luke hidden, it was making sure Luke didn’t say anything that would get him killed and making sure none of the demon bros made Luke cry.

Mammon was the main culprit of the teasing because Lucifer actually had better things to do. And he had a (totally not a) date with Diavolo so he’d be back late and wouldn’t be home to tease the chihuahua.

Mammon’s status as favourite uncle was hanging by a thread by the end of the first day.

Asmo thought Luke was positively adorable and also very annoying. He offered to paint MC and Luke’s nails. Luke declined, but MC was all for it. (Their cuticles were a MESS by the way, they needed the manicure.)

Luke’s nails were painted gold to match the gold on his outfit! Asmo was quite proud of his work, and was very offended when he was not allowed to try and braid Luke’s hair.

“It looks so soft!”

“You’re not allowed to touch my hair, demon!”

Satan still disliked MC on the basis that they were just a mini-Lucifer and hung out in his room or the library to avoid them and Luke.

It was incredibly annoying when Luke and MC burst into the library to look for cookbooks and treat recipes after Luke told MC about his baking endeavours. Satan debated ordering a pair of ear plugs on Akuzon...

Or perhaps a laser gun...

Both would make him stop hearing the children’s grating voices.

“You two, be quiet.”

“We haven’t spoken since we got in here...”

“You’re breathing too loud.”

Beel remained the only brother who was actually decent to Luke, they all played Go Fish in Beel’s room.

Levi was in his room playing his new video game just like in canon, but he could hear Luke and MC running around outside his room.

He was fully prepared to do that introvert thing where you stay in your room until you hear someone say goodbye to the guest.

Levi’s eyes were glued to his computer screen, just eight more skeleton monsters to kill and he’d get the achievement! His attention crumbled the moment he heard the dreaded sound of...

Guests...

“Hey MC! Whose room is this?”

The sound of a door opening and closing down the hall caused Levi to jump in his seat. Oh no... his worst fears were realized! There was another person in the house!

“That’s Asmodeus’ room. Luke you shouldn’t go around opening everyone’s doors-”

The sound of another door opening and shutting made Levi pause his game and look at Henry 2.0 for help. Maybe if he jumped into the tank and wrapped himself in his tail he’d camouflage into his surroundings...

BAM!

AAAAA! Not enough time! The guest was drawing nearer... he was going to have to... *barf*... SOCIALIZE!

“How about this room?”

Levi braced himself for the incoming social contact... Fs in the chat everyone...

“We shouldn’t bother Levi, let’s do something else.”

HAJEKDJSJSJSJD- BEEL! BEEL JUST SAVED LEVI’S LIFE!

The poor third born slumped back in his seat, the awfulness of socialization avoided. He uh... hadn’t actually left his room in maybe three days... maybe he should actually go outside... enjoy the nonexistent sunlight, y’know?

...nah. Levi went back to his game.

Since the kitchen was broken, Beel, MC, and Luke went out and get AkuDonald’s. They were all out of the toy that Luke and MC wanted so that trip was a disaster! A disaster I say!

Just the image of Beel happily chomping on his eighth burger while Luke and MC angrily pick at their fries makes me want to laugh.

Now the question you’re all waiting for, did Lucifer try and kill Luke and Beel and then MC for trying to take the Grimoire?

N O

“Whose room is behind that door?” Luke pointed to the door to the attic staircase.

MC shrugged and hit their knuckles against the door a few times. “It’s just the door to the attic. My uh- Lucifer said not to go up there because it’s just full of old junk.”

Normally MC would scoff at the idea of being told what not to do and do it out of spite, but MC was a child, and like most children, they hated scary attics. They hadn’t even attempted to open the door in the month they had lived in the house.

“Hm, maybe he’s hiding something...” Luke puffed out his cheeks and knocked on the door. When met with no answer, Luke turned the doorknob. The door creaked open, and the two peeked inside.

A tall spiral staircase greeted them as they tentatively stepped inside. Not so-good Lord, the room was freezing, but it didn’t seem to bother Luke as he walked further into the room.

“What do you think’s up there?” Luke asked, craning his neck to try and get a look at what could be at the top of the stairs.

MC shuddered and crossed their arms. “Like Lucifer said, junk. Nothing important.”

There was a tingling feeling at the base of MC’s neck, their hand flew to the spot only to find nothing, but the uneasiness didn’t cease. Something was very... very off. A shudder creeped up their spine as Luke stepped closer to the staircase.

“Come on,” Luke tutted, placing a hand on the railing. “Demons are known liars!”

Luke was quite difficult to be friends with sometimes, MC had to admit.

With every step Luke took up the stairs, the sense of dread brewing in MC’s gut grew, but they remained rooted to the spot, it was almost like something was physically stopping them from getting closer to those stairs.

Luke stopped on the sixth step and craned his neck to look up again. “Hello?” He called out.

His little voice echoed up the staircase, he was met with no reply for a moment, until a massive shudder wracked both his and MC’s spines.

“Hello.” A voice replied.

Quick as lightning MC dove forward, taking three steps up the stairs despite what felt like electric shocks stabbing into their skin, and yanked Luke back down the stairs and out the door, closing it behind them. MC heard a lazy, carefree chuckle reverberate through their head, and a message that only MC could hear.

“Leaving so soon, Lucifer?”

...

Spooky right?

Anyway- back to Luke and MC being idiots together.

They headed back to Beel’s room to watch some Devildom kid shows, I assume Tom and Jerry just played on repeat.

Luke explained the reason he ran away from Purgatory Hall, and MC legitimately debated whether or not they should throw Luke out of the nearest window for all the jabs he was taking at demons.

“Simeon was going to go out for tea with Diavolo! He even said that I could ask Barbatos to instruct me on the finer points of baking!”

“What’s so bad about that?”

“They’re demons, MC! Simeon and I are angels from the Celestial Realm! We shouldn’t be consorting with demons.”

Once again, bless Beel and his lack of murderous rage when it came to anything other than food.

“MC, Lucifer would be upset if you broke a window.”

“What’s he talking about?”

“Nothing Luke, nothing you need to worry about.”

Don’t worry, no angels were harmed during the visit.

On day two of the extended sleepover, Luke and MC decided to go running around the house again.

“And this is the basement.” MC put their hands on their hips and kissed their teeth as they looked around the Underground tomb. “Perfectly creepy.”

Luke shuddered. “Is this house nothing but one creepy room after another..?”

MC smiled and stuck out their tongue. Their fear of the attic did not extend to the underground tomb. Not that they were actually afraid of the attic or anything...

“Why? You scared some big monster is gonna getcha?” MC teased.

“No!” Luke gasped. “I’m not scared!”

MC began to walk backwards into the darker depths of the tomb, their teasing tone echoing off of the walls. “Then come on! Don’t be chicken!”

Luke looked back and forth from the door out of there, to the rapidly disappearing figure of MC, he rushed after MC.

“I’m not scared of some dark basement.” Luke huffed.

“Why not~?” MC snickered. “There could be ghosts down here... tortured souls of those who were damned to Hell for all eternity~!”

MC swiped Luke’s hat and placed it on their head, Luke jumped at the sudden contact and began to try and get the hat back from MC.

“Stop trying to scare me!” Luke yapped, MC laughed and began to jog deeper into the tomb.

“Maybe there’s a monster that eats chihuahuas down here too! Who knows!” MC twirled the hat with their fingers and ran a little faster when Luke ran after them.

“I AM NOT A CHIHUAHUA!”

Sure, maybe it wasn’t the best course of action to tease and scare one’s friend instead of telling them what they said earlier was mean, but MC wasn’t the best at decision making.

When MC reached a dead end, they stopped and looked around, Luke crashed right into them. He managed to swipe his hat back from a now disinterested MC.

MC’s gaze landed on a book being held up by a statue, they padded over and looked up at it.

“Luke, do you know what that is?” MC asked, turning to look at their now very miffed friend.

“The... book? I don’t know.”

Truthfully, MC didn’t know either. During their first tour of the house, Mammon had interrupted the Underground tomb segment and Lucifer had to cut the tour short.

“It’s uh...” MC pursed their lips and tried to think of a convincing lie. “A spell book. Lucifer told me that it makes your magic really really strong, so he stuck it down here to hide it from Solomon.”

“Did I now?”

MC and Luke screamed and whirled around, there stood Lucifer himself, not looking terribly pleased with the two of them.

“MC, care to explain why you and the angel are so close to the Grimoire?” Lucifer’s words were icily calm, and MC knew that meant if they didn’t come up with a good explanation they’d be in big trouble.

“W-we were just playing down here...” MC trailed off, looking to Luke for some kind of backup before realizing what a stupid idea that was.

“Y-yeah! We were just-”

Lucifer stuck his thumb over his shoulder and glowered at the two. “Out.”

“Yes sir.” Luke and MC mumbled as they stepped away from the Grimoire, Lucifer relaxed slightly as the two walked past him and down the hall.

When the two got back up to Beel’s room, Luke suddenly gasped and turned to MC.

“You said it was a spell book!”

After that, MC got the feeling that Luke was no longer welcome in the house. What was the big deal about almost touching the Grimoire anyway? It could only override pacts and control demons-

Oh.

Balls.

Simeon got called to pick up Luke and before the two of them left MC assured Luke that he could come over and hang out anytime as long as he texted first.

Beel said Luke could come over and bake when the kitchen was fixed, poor Beel would have to do without Luke’s baked goods for a little while longer.

MC rested their chin on the coffee table they were kneeling in front of, stewing in annoyance. Their unfinished homework was practically mocking them, but the Demonology textbook was not what had them in their funk.

“MC, do your homework.” Lucifer said from the living room couch, he was comparing his phone to notes in a binder that was placed on his lap.

A grunt from MC caused him to raise an eyebrow. Their grasp on demonic language had improved, but Lucifer did not approve of them using their new skill to sass him.

“MC.” Lucifer chided, MC turned to look at him with a deadpan expression. “If there’s something wrong, either tell me, or do your work without complaining.”

MC turned back to their homework and tapped their pencil against the textbook, before puffing out their cheek and turning back to Lucifer.

“What’s in the attic?”

For the briefest of moments, Lucifer froze, he forcibly relaxed and went back to his work.

“Junk.” Lucifer replied. “Did you try and go up there?”

MC shook their head. “No, I went into the staircase room, but not up the stairs.”

Lucifer’s eyes flashed, he then took a deep breath and looked at MC. “Good, there’s nothing of interest up there anyway. If you did go up there you might break something or hurt yourself.”

“Okay.” MC sighed, trying to push the voice from the attic out of their mind. “What about the Grimoire? Why is it down in the tomb?”

Lucifer could feel his patience growing thinner and thinner with every question. “So it doesn’t fall into the wrong hands.”

“Why not just destroy it?” MC asked, their question wasn’t meant to be taken as an insult or be malicious, it was just legitimate curiosity. “Wouldn’t that be safer?”

The first born hesitated before he answered. He looked over MC, before shaking his head. “...I’ll tell you when you’re older.”

MC’s eyes narrowed, but they went back to their work all the same. It would be about ten minutes of quiet before MC spoke up again.

“When Belphegor gets back from the human world, you’re going to have a lot of explaining to do, huh?”

Lucifer’s eyes snapped up to look at MC, who still had their back turned to him as they scribbled notes from the textbook. His grip on his DDD tightened as he replied.

“Why do you say that, MC?”

MC didn’t seem to register their father’s clipped tone, and shrugged. “Beel said that he isn’t answering his texts or calls, and when he sent up a letter Belphegor didn’t respond to that either.”

“The life of an exchange student is a busy one, as you can see.” Lucifer forcibly injected his last bit of remaining calmness into his words as he gestured at MC’s homework. MC laughed at that.

“Yeah well, I still make time to call my friends and ren back up in the human world.” MC giggled. “And I’m sure those text notifications about his older brother discovering that he has a child would make him pick up the phone.”

“Belphegor might have a much larger workload.” Lucifer retorted, trying to keep himself from snapping at MC.

“But still, you’d think he’d call his-”

“MC-” Lucifer snarled, MC whirled around, the fear and shock in their eyes caused anything Lucifer was going to say to die in his throat.

The two stared at each other for a few seconds, before Lucifer took another deep breath and turned back to his work.

“Not right now, MC,” Lucifer whispered. “I’m working.”

...

To be continued...

#Obey me #Obey me!#obey me shall we date #obey me! shall we date?#obey me headcanons #obey me! headcanons #Obey me MC #Obey me Lucifer #Obey me Asmodeus #Obey me Satan #Lucifer’s Kid #Obey me Beelzebub #Obey me Mammon #Obey me Belphegor #Obey me Leviathan #Obey me Luke #when I say to be continued- I mean more diverging from canon #I have a feeling the lovely London family trip went smoothly... totally

448 notes · View notes

seasonsofeverlark · 2 years

Text

The Chances We Take

Author: @jhsgf82

Prompt: Hi there! Hope you could still accept my birthday prompt for Nov. 25. Since it falls on thanksgiving day, maybe you could do something around it? I want to read on everlark thanksgiving with blended family maybe both are single parents or one of them is (really, I’m not picky). Rated T/M Thank you so much! 🧡 Love your blog!! [submitted by @imsoeverlarked]

Rating: T

Summary: Single father Peeta Mellark heads to a bookstore to learn more about camping and the outdoors, in order to please and impress his son. There, he meets a beautiful woman with a past of her own who helps him make some selections, and he falls swiftly for her. Will he have the courage to act on his new feelings, despite his past heartache? Will he get a second chance at love?

Author’s Note: Happy Birthday, @imsoeverlarked! Special thanks to @evestedic for brainstorming this with me and giving me some great ideas as well as to the poor guy on Reddit who was an inspiration for this story. He ended up pretty happy, it seems. Disclaimer: No Delly or Gale hate meant here; it is what it is, needed to use some characters for my purposes, and they fit. And well, people are only human, right? I hope you enjoy! ______________

Benjamin Cartwright-Mellark, my seven-year-old son, has recently gotten into camping and the outdoors, so I’m headed to the corner bookshop on my lunch break from the bakery to read up on the subject, in hopes I can muddle my way through a camping trip without either of us getting lost, maimed, or eaten by a bear.

I love my son with all my heart, and I’d do just about anything for him‒stand up for him, fight off a pack of rabid mutts, and yes, even go camping.

Ours isn’t a fairy tale life, but it’s a good one. And Ben and I are very much a family, even though ours is a small unit‒it’s just the two of us.

Well, my son’s mother, Delly, is in the picture, but we’re divorced. We share joint custody of Ben, and even though she annoys the crap out of me at times, we have an amicable relationship.

We’ve come a long way…

Delly Cartwright was my childhood best friend and high school sweetheart (the last two years). We were quick to marry, married young, right after high school at age 19. Maybe that was part of the problem. We apparently weren’t as compatible as I thought and struggled through the first two years of our marriage. Perhaps that’s why she started talking to Thom, her ex, again, even though he’d been emotionally abusive to her, always criticizing her for being overweight and talking too much, and had cheated on her with a girl named Bristel.

As far as her weight, Delly wasn’t heavy, just full-figured, which I never minded. She was beautiful to me, and I definitely appreciated her hourglass curves.

About two and a half years into our marriage, Thom got back in touch with Delly. She told me about it initially, and I assured her I wasn’t trying to control her or tell her what to do, but I warned her about associating with him. I didn’t trust the guy; I didn’t want him to cause her any more pain. Well, Delly had recently lost a decent amount of weight, and although I hadn’t thought it necessary for her to do so, I made sure to pay her a lot of attention and praise her for the achievement. She did look fantastic. Of course, right around that time, I noticed her acting strangely, being more secretive. Come to find out, she’d been talking to Thom behind my back for weeks. At first I was upset, even a little angry, but I stayed calm and let her explain. She insisted that they were just friends, and I believed her. She also told me that Thom said he’d sought help and was only trying to apologize and make amends for how he’d treated her in the past.

Well, of course, my antennae went up about that, especially since I knew Delly had recently posted pictures of her weight loss journey on social media. I worried Thom was trying to get Delly back, now that she was presumably a size he could tolerate, or at least sweet talk her into an affair, and well…I ended up being right.

It broke my heart when Delly cheated on me. I just couldn’t believe it. I knew people made mistakes, but I just couldn’t believe my sweet childhood friend/wife would ever hurt me that way. She apologized profusely, promised me it would never happen again, and adamantly told me how much she loved me and wanted to make this work.

But I couldn’t do it. I just couldn’t look at her the same way after that.

After being betrayed, at first, I was a little crazed; it hijacked my mind a bit‒at least the worst thing I ever said to her was to ask her how she could possibly cheat on me when she knew how shitty it felt. I didn’t hate Delly, though, as much as I might have wanted to; however, I simply couldn’t be in a relationship with her anymore.

It was only a little over a month later that I found out Delly was pregnant. Delly didn’t fight me over having a DNA test done, to be sure. The paternity test revealed that it was mine.

We talked it out, decided to keep the baby, and although I still refused to get back together, I put the divorce on hold. I promised Delly I’d stay by her side, support her fully during the pregnancy and the birth, and that I’d try to be friends again. And of course, I was going to be in my-our child’s life for the rest of my days.

Benjamin Basil Cartwright-Mellark was the single most exquisite sight I’d ever seen in my life, and the moment I laid eyes on that blond mop coming out of his mother, tears came streaming down my cheeks, and I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that I would die for him.

No, I wouldn’t change having my precious son for anything in the world, though it wasn’t the ideal path to take.

—–

I push through the door, and a little bell jingles as I set foot, for the first time, in Tesserae Books. I look around. The place is charming and quaint, small but with a good selection as far as I can tell. Hopefully, they’ll have something to help me.

There’s a young woman with dark, spiky hair seated behind the front counter on her phone. She glances up, and I say hello, but she doesn’t greet me back. Thus, I figure I’m on my own. I mosey through the aisles, scanning the category titles, which look to be written in black sharpie on pieces of masking tape, until I come across the Non-Fiction section and within it, I locate the genre: Nature. Okay, that sounds right. I notice there are several sub-genres of Nature, including Outdoor Skills, Adventure Sports, and Guide Books. Seems I was right about them having a wide selection for a small bookstore; in fact, I’m a bit overwhelmed by my choices.

I look up and over toward the counter, opening my mouth in a silent, plaintive cry for help, though the employee pays me no mind. So, I begin scanning the titles, occasionally glancing up or meandering back and forth through the section. The shop girl doesn’t bother to come over and ask me if I need help, though she does look up from her phone now and then, eyeing me warily as if she thinks I’m a shoplifter plotting a heist. Sure, my whole purpose in coming here was to see how many thick, dusty books I could shove under my shirt and escape with.

While I’m perusing the selection, I hear the door bell jingle again, but I don’t pay any attention to whoever it was who entered. Instead, I pluck a particularly thick guide book off one of the shelves and after a glance at the title, turn it open to somewhere in the middle and start looking at the pictures.

I feel a presence approaching me, though I don’t look up.

“Excuse the interruption,” a quiet, melodic voice says, “but I don’t think you want that one.”

“Why not?” I ask distractedly, still without looking up. When I finally do look up, I’m stricken by the prettiest face and the loveliest set of gray eyes I’ve ever encountered.

“Well, that’s an extreme survival guide,” the young woman standing before me points out. “See?” She flips the book back to its cover, grazing my hand in the process (it tingles pleasantly) and taps the subtitle. Sure enough, she’s right.

“Uh, um, yeah, I see,” I stammer like a fool.

I don’t even know which way is up right now, and my jaw must have hit the floor. This woman is simply so…so breathtaking. Seriously, I can hardly breathe around her. She’s petite and comely with sleek dark hair pulled back into a braid and smooth, flawless olive skin. She’s dressed in a fitted, long-sleeved green shirt, black jeans and jacket, and boots. Her look is so refreshingly different from any other girl I’ve known or dated; she’s the most gorgeous creature I’ve ever laid eyes on.

“I take it you’re a beginner,” she ventures, the hint of a smirk playing on her lips. When I say nothing, she goes on. “I mean, if you’re looking for books and all.” She pauses. “…Maybe I’m wrong, though.” She gives me a quick once-over, or possibly, I’m hallucinating right now. “You look like you’re in pretty good shape.”

My lips curl up at that, and though it’s dumb, I poke out my chest slightly.

“You appear to have strong shoulders and arms. Do you climb?” The pretty woman presses her soft pink lips together and blinks sweetly, innocently, and I think I might melt into a puddle at her feet.

“No, I bake,” I say. Good one, Peet. “Lugging 100-pound sacks of flour around all day is bound to develop the arms and shoulders.” I chuckle.

Nice one. I sound as though that’s my entire job. Is that supposed to impress her or something?

“Oh?” I think I catch a glint in her eye as if that intrigues her. Okay, so maybe she’s into baking…or feats of baking strength?

As for me, I’m totally smitten. I must have the goofiest expression on my face.

“Uh, I’m sorry,” she goes on to say, shoving her hands into the pockets of her jacket. “That was forward, what I said before. I should really learn to filter what I say.”

I chuckle in what I believe to be a good-natured way, but she must think I’m making fun of her, because her eyes narrow slightly. I stop laughing and thin out my smile. “I’m sorry, don’t apologize.” I shake my head. “I…I appreciate the compliment, actually. And you got me.” Boy, does she ever! Yeah right, Mellark! You wish! “I don’t have any outdoor experience; I’m basically a virgin.”

The gorgeous girl’s eyes go wide, then shoot away, and I think I notice a hint of pink to her cheeks. What the hell did I just say? My mouth drops open at my own idiocy, and I follow the girl’s line of sight over to the front counter. Of course, now the employee is paying attention, her small shoulders shaking in silent laughter.

“Uhh, I mean, an outdoor virgin, that is!” I palm my face and scrub my hand ultra-slowly down it.

“Oh, I see.” She glimpses me from beneath her dark eyelashes. She’s so damn adorable I can’t stand it. “Well, in that case, If you’ll allow me…I think I can help.”

I grin widely. “I’ll allow it.”

She turns around, and I follow her down the aisle like a puppy dog, doing my best to keep my eyes up and not watch her slender yet shapely hips gently sway or ogle her cute, round rear.

“So, what are you looking for?” she asks, looking back at me.

“Huh?” I’m caught off guard again. I snap my eyes, which were wavering somewhere around her low back, up to meet hers, and get my bearings. “Oh, uh, just some camping and lowkey hiking books.”

She nods. “I know just the ones.”

I stand back as she runs a finger along a row of books. I should do something other than stand here like an idiot, help or talk, or something.

Name. Name would be good.

“I’m Peeta,” I say. “Peeta Mellark.” She looks back at me. “Not like the bread.” And like a dork, I spell it for her.

“I’m Katniss. Katniss Everdeen.” She grins. “With a K, not like the animal.”

“Like the flower,” I insert.

“Yeah,” she replies, a surprised, pleased inflection to her voice.

“Wow,” I breathe. “That’s pretty.” I smile at her.

Katniss smiles shyly back and tucks a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

Then, Katniss‒God, that really is a pretty name, almost as pretty as her‒turns around again and resolutely resumes her search. She pulls two books off the shelf and hands them back to me, then looks up. She reaches for one on a higher shelf, and when she does, her shirt rides up a bit, revealing more of that gorgeous olive skin as well as ink. She has a tattoo on her low back, of flowers. I recognize them from a botanical art book I used to sketch from‒katniss flowers and evening primrose. The katniss flowers I get, since that’s her name, but is there a significance behind the primroses?

She’s struggling to get the book. I should help her, rather than make her reach. I come closer, my front barely grazing her back, and I raise my arm over her head to grab the book she’s almost got a hold of. I place my hand over hers on top of the spine. She stiffens but doesn’t move away.

After several seconds, to my chagrin, she slips her hand out from under mine.

“Sorry,” I whisper, snatching the book. “Is this the one you were going for?”

“Yes,” she squeaks. And she moves away from me and folds her arms across her chest.

Great. I’ve made her uncomfortable. She must think I’m a creep!

I consider apologizing again but think better of it; instead, I decide simply to change the subject. “I really appreciate your help,” I tell her. “My son’s really into camping and the outdoors right now, and I want to take him, and also not embarrass myself.”

“Oh, your son?” Do I detect a hint of disappointment on her face and in her tone? Nah. Probably just wishful thinking on my part.

If she was disappointed, she recovers quickly. “How old is your son?” she asks.

“Seven,” I say.

“Okay. Well, in addition to the adult guide books I just gave you, there are some great children’s books, informational and storybooks, too.”

“Do you work here or something?” I tease, a touch of a laugh in my voice.

“No, just spend a lot of time here. I like reading.”

“That’s great.” She bobs her head, and when she turns around again, I sigh. Another good one. I’m sure I’m well on my way to sweeping this girl right off her feet, I think sarcastically.

“There’s this storybook I love…” Katniss beckons me, and once more, I immediately follow. “I enjoyed it as a kid and even as an adult. It’s a really touching story. I used to read it to my sister.”

“Sounds great.” She doesn’t say anything to that; she’s become even more quiet, and she keeps on walking. “Thank you, again, for doing this.”

“No problem,” she tosses back.

Along the way to the children’s section, she slips two more books off the shelves and hands them to me. Then she turns around to face me, explaining a few things about which sections are most useful for beginners to focus on.

“You sure know a lot about this,” I comment, giving her my friendliest smile.

She smiles faintly back. “Yeah, I have read those, and they’re good; although, I do think learning by doing is the best way. I go out into the woods regularly. At least once a week. Several times if I can. For hunting, hiking, camping, whatever.”

“I’ll bet you’re good at all that,” I say, this time cocking my head and tossing her a lopsided grin which is definitely more flirty. She blinks a few times, then glances down at her boots as she fidgets with her braid.

Ugh. Why do I feel like I’ve lost every bit of my mojo? Not like I was a Casanova, but I feel like I used to be much better at talking to women. I guess I’m out of practice, and my confidence is shot. I’ve managed to collect the broken pieces of my heart and somewhat put it back together again, but I haven’t dated much since Delly. A few feeble attempts, set-ups mostly, where I either didn’t connect with the woman or lost my nerve.

And it doesn’t help that this woman is a freaking goddess. As it is, I’m off in my head, imagining her in one of those white, flowing dresses goddesses wear. Hers would show just a hint of cleavage, but would be tasteful, as I picture her as the pure type. I see her as one of those woodland goddesses, sweet and strong and mighty, a goddess of the hunt, perhaps.

Yep, I’m definitely a goner.

At least I seem to be having some kind of impact on her, too. I think she’s shy, though. Hopefully, I’m not taking it too far.

“So, you go alone? To the woods?” I’m partially asking out of concern for her safety‒it can be dangerous being out in the wilderness alone, for anyone, man or woman‒but yeah, it’s also a shameless ploy to find out if she’s single.

“Um, yeah. I used to go with,” she hesitates, “someone…But now I go alone.”

Oh, so maybe she is single?

Do not, I repeat, do not ask her if her boyfriend worries about her going out in the woods alone or some crap like that. Absolutely do not go there.

“How’s your son at reading?” Katniss asks out of the blue. And I’m thankful she spoke up before I could do something stupid like pry into her personal life.

We’re at the Children’s section now.

“He’s average to advanced,” I say. “He’s really a smart, clever kid, and I’m not just saying that because I’m his dad and I’m biased.” I grin, and Katniss smiles at me. “Right now, he’s reading at one level past where he’s supposed to be,” I explain.

“That’s great,” she says. “So, this storybook I think he might like… It might be slightly above his level, but sounds like he could handle it, and if not, you could always read it to him. It’s about a boy named Ben…”

“Oh my god, that’s my son’s name!” I exclaim, entirely too excited. Katniss grins widely.

“Perfect,” she says. “Well, this boy, Ben, who lives on the edge of a forest, goes out into the wilderness on his own to gather medicinal herbs and berries to make medicine for his sick grandmother…the information about the plants in the book is accurate, by the way, but make sure to give your son the disclaimer about not trying it on his own‒plants, berries, and mushrooms can be toxic or even deadly, and it’s easy to get them confused.”

“Got it.” I nod.

“Well, anyway, Ben has a great adventure. There’s some danger along the way but also magic. He meets some talking animals, who help him, and of course, Ben puts his knowledge of survival skills, taught to him by his father, to good use.”

“Sounds great. I’m sure he’ll love it.” I beam at Katniss, and my eyes must sparkle with something akin to adoration for her, a feeling which is becoming nearly impossible for me to hide. She shyly glances away, nibbling enticingly on her lower lip.

“I’ll…” Katniss tucks a stray lock of hair behind her ear, and I take a chance and step a bit closer to her. She shifts and bounces lightly on the balls of her feet. “I’ll…check and see if it’s here.” She moves away from me too speedily for my liking in search of the book. She seems to go directly to the exact spot where the book is located‒she certainly must spend a lot of time here.

“Oh, darn,” she mutters. “Looks like it’s not here.”

“It’s okay, Katniss.”

“It is very popular,” she mutters to herself, ignoring me entirely and heading up to the front desk to inquire with the spiky-haired, slightly intimidating girl. Katniss greets the employee familiarly by name‒Jo, she calls her‒and asks about the children’s book entitled: Benjamin the Brave.

I hear Jo clack at her computer keys, then tell Katniss that it’s out of stock but she can get it. I wind my way over to Katniss, catching a bit of Jo teasing Katniss about…me, I think…something about finding something else she’s looking for instead, in a suggestive manner, and I have to fight my grin. However, I can’t tell if Katniss is acting mortified because she’s shy or because she thinks I’m as attractive as a dead slug.

I clear my throat, interrupting the two, and Katniss explains the situation to me, though I’ve already heard. I tell them I plan to come back and order it for my son’s birthday.

I’ve set my books down on the counter, and I know this is a risky venture, but I ask Jo to hold them for me while I look around some more. With a smirk, she snarks that she’ll guard them with her life. I side-eye her, the corner of my lip curling, then follow Katniss to…wherever she’s going now.

I’m pretty sure I’d follow her to the ends of the earth.

Although, she’s only heading over to the Nature section again, and that’s not far.

Along the way, I see her stumble.

“Katniss?” Concerned, I quickly jog over to her, just in time for her to collapse. “Katniss!” I exclaim.

Fortunately, I’m able to reach out and catch her in my arms. I gently lower her to the floor with me and lay her head in my lap. Still conscious but peaked, she stares up at me, and if I wasn’t so concerned with her health right now, I’d be in heaven just looking in those eyes.

“Katniss!” Jo, likewise, calls out and comes rushing over.

“Uh, umm…” Katniss’s eyes dart confusedly from side to side; then she focuses back up on me. “I’m sorry…thank you.”

“It’s okay. You’re welcome.” I smile affectionately down at her. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I think I just got a bit dehydrated. I’ll be fine.” Katniss goes to slide her head off my lap, but I hold onto her arms.

“No, don’t get up yet,” I say, gently but insistently. “Take your time. Go slowly.” Why do I feel like my advice is as much for my benefit as hers? Because, admittedly, I’m enjoying having this lovely lady’s head in my lap.

“I agree with Blondie.” Jo, who is kneeling down beside Katniss now, pokes her arm. “Stay down,” she hisses.

Katniss huffs. “This isn’t necessary, you two.”

Jo snorts. “It is necessary. What the hell, Brainless? Did you overdo it today? Were you on your feet all day? Did you go to the woods? Try to climb a tree?”

“I…yeah, I went to the woods, but I didn’t climb a tree,” she says.

Jo heaves a sigh, her breath spritzing me in the face. “You shouldn’t be doing that in your condition.”

In her condition?

Katniss scowls at Jo and hisses a sarcastic “Thanks a lot,” then looks up at me, her expression a mix between distressed and apologetic.

“I’m…I’m, uh, pregnant,” she says.

“Oh,” is my stupid reply. I did not expect that; I never would have guessed as there’s no visible baby bump‒her abdomen is perfectly flat. Either she’s not very far along or is just a super skinny girl.

Well, damn. There goes that dream down the toilet. She probably has a really handsome, doting husband at home who’s going to be as furious as Jo that she went to the woods today, in her condition. And to think I thought she might actually be flirting with me! Stupid! I really have lost all my skill with women.

Jo continues to rail on Katniss. “Do I need to call Gale‒?” she begins.

“No!” Katniss snaps, throwing her the filthiest look I’ve ever seen. Even though she’s clearly angry, I can’t help but find that dirty look cute, and kind of arousing…

Get it together, Peeta! This poor woman is lying in your lap on the floor, and you’re getting turned on by her scowl? What the hell’s the matter with you?

And then there’s this Gale Jo spoke of.

Gale must be her husband, or boyfriend. Well, I don’t know him, but I already hate him‒only because I’m insanely jealous.

“Gale doesn’t care about me,” she mutters.

Huh?

“Yeah, well, fuck him,” spats Jo. “Wasn’t really going to call him, unless it’s to get him down here, so I can beat his ass.”

“Don’t do that,” she mumbles weakly. She gives Jo a faint smile before squeezing her eyes shut. “I can take care of myself, anyway.”

“Then do it!” Katniss’s eyes snap open, and she looks up at her friend. “And if you won’t listen to me, maybe Blondie here can convince you…”

Jo turns to me, and I’m at a loss. I have no idea what’s going on or why I’m being implicated in this, but I suddenly realize I’ve been affectionately stroking back Katniss’s sweaty hair.

And it’s bliss.

And she doesn’t seem to mind one bit.

“Blondie, tell Brainless here that when you’re pregnant, you can’t push yourself as far as you normally would.”

Why does she think I would know anything about that? Even though, I do.

“Why would I listen to him?” Katniss snips. I’m not offended because I can tell she’s only saying it in defiance of Jo.

“Ohh, I dunno, maybe because you think he’s a fine piece of ass.”

My eyes go wide, and I blink rapidly. A stupid grin forms on my face. Really? Does she really think that? And how does Jo know? I need confirmation.

“Shut up.” Katniss glares over at Jo, then mutters half under her breath, “I hate you…”

“Love you, too, bitch.” Jo smirks impishly.

Well, I don’t like this Jo calling Katniss a bitch, but it kind of seems like their dynamic…?

Jo’s expression hardens, then, and she appears ready to go off on another tirade. Katniss seems to notice the storm brewing, too, for she looks up at me so helplessly my heart clenches in my chest.

And so, I send Jo off to fetch some water for Katniss. She could probably use it, and well, Katniss certainly seemed to want to get rid of her.

“You alright?” I ask once Jo is gone. “Feeling any better?” I continue stroking her hair. She hums contentedly at my ministrations and even shuts her eyes.

“Better, yes,” she murmurs.

Her eyes flutter open a few seconds later. “Much better now that she’s gone. What she said…” Katniss looks timidly up at me, and I smile.

“It’s okay,” I say. “No need to explain. Just relax.” She smiles softly, and her eyelashes flutter, her heavy-looking lids closing again.

Five or so minutes later, Katniss is seated in a cushy armchair in the empty Children’s section with a mug of water in her hand. I’m on the floor in front of her with my legs tucked under, looking up at her as if I’m a child and she’s about to read me a story.

Well, she is about to tell me one‒the story of her pregnancy.

Katniss takes a deep breath and begins. “My ex-boyfriend, Gale, never wanted to get married,” she tells me. “He didn’t want kids, either. Both our fathers died in a mining accident when we were young. I was 11; he was 13.”

I insert my sincere condolences, even if it is way after the fact.

She thanks me flatly and goes on to say, “My mother shut down after that, and I basically raised my younger sister, Prim. Likewise, Gale raised his two younger brothers and younger sister. His mother didn’t have a mental breakdown, or whatever you want to call it, like my mother did, but they were poor, like us, and his mother was working a lot, so he was usually the one feeding and taking care of his siblings. He and I used to go hunting to provide extra meat for our families, and when he was old enough, he went to work in the mines, too. Anyway, when I recently accidentally got pregnant, he said he didn’t want to raise another kid, said he couldn’t do it again; he wanted to focus on his life.”

“Wow, that’s‒” Selfish. Terrible… I could insert quite a few adjectives here, but I don’t know how Katniss would feel about me bashing her ex. Not only do I barely know her, but I’ve learned that no matter how bad an ex is, and even if your friend or partner is bashing them, too, it’s dangerous to join in. Sometimes they end up reconciling, and then they’re mad at you for what you said… Besides, I don’t like to judge people, or talk about them behind their backs, and what Katniss and her ex and their families went through was clearly a horrible ordeal. “I’m sorry you had to go through all that. And that you’re going through this, alone.”

“Oh, I’m not entirely alone. I’m not too far along, but I’ve already been getting help from family and friends. As you can see, some of them…have a penchant to hover and be overprotective.”

I grin. “Maybe that’s okay. Just means they care. I mean, I know I would…” I stop myself quickly.

She flushes.

“I guess so. It is nice. And I mean, even though I understood Gale’s feelings, I do kind of resent him for ditching me in this. It’s only gonna get harder.”

“Well,” I begin tentatively. “If you ever need any advice, I know a lot about pregnancy and birth. It’s only fair that I help you out the way you helped me out.”

For a second, I think I’ve gone too far, but then she gives me a smile so genuinely warm and grateful and sweet that I feel my insides liquify.

I decide to tell her my sob story, then, which is not nearly as sad as hers, though she seems troubled by it, even perturbed. While I appreciate her sympathy, I feel kind of bad‒my story is nothing compared to hers, although it’s not a comparison.

I switch gears and ask her about her pregnancy so far, if she wants to tell me. And surprisingly, she does want to talk about it.

We talk for some time while she sips at her mug of water, and I’m shocked when she asks me to join her at the coffee/tea shop next door. I practically beg her to stay before going up to order for us‒I suppose I have some abandonment issues; plus, I still can’t believe this beautiful woman is into me. Thankfully, she’s still there when I return with our tea‒a special raspberry leaf medicinal pregnancy tea she likes from there (with plenty of sugar) for her, and a green tea with no sugar for me.

We chat for a while longer; then she tells me she needs to go. I feel my stomach drop out as if I’m making the first descent on a roller coaster. This could be it. What if I never see her again? Aside from lurking around the bookstore, which would be incredibly creepy, I don’t know what else to do. I don’t want to lose her, so, I take a risk and ask for her number‒you know, just in case I need more camping advice or she needs pregnancy advice. I’m fully prepared to be metaphorically shot down by her arrow, but to my great surprise, and elation, she gives it to me.

—– I’m giddy after meeting Katniss, actually giddy. I’ve never been this excited after meeting a woman, and I’ve never felt such a connection with a female since Delly. Maybe never, period. Somehow, this thing between Katniss and me feels so much more powerful than what I had with Delly. Maybe it’s simply the newness of it.

But after feeling so miserable for years, that’s a real feat. It’s such a strange sensation to feel so happy again when I never thought I could, aside from the moment my son was born and having a relationship with him, but I do. I’m hopeful. Maybe this could be real. Maybe Katniss Everdeen could even be ‘The One.’

Although, I’m scared. I’d thought Delly was ‘The One’ once, but clearly, she wasn’t. Or, maybe it doesn’t always work out with ‘the One.’ People are only human, after all. And maybe there can even be more than one ‘One.’ I don’t really know because I’m far more cynical than I used to be. All I know is, I can’t and won’t let Katniss go, so long as she wants me, too.

I don’t call her that night, even though I’m dying to, because I don’t want to seem too eager or desperate. I do, however, tell Ben about the pretty lady I met at the bookstore‒I simply can’t contain it any longer. I need to talk about her. I’m bursting with joy and hope, which I can tell Ben picks up on‒he’s a very empathetic child and has always been very attuned to my and other’s emotions.

I don’t often do this, but I ask him to keep it a secret from his mother. She’ll be all up in my business if and when she finds out.

Surely, she’ll be finding out eventually, though, because I’m planning for Katniss to be in my life.

I call my beautiful huntress three days later, and I swear Katniss sighs into the phone when she hears my voice. She’s been waiting for my call, which I discover later, after we’ve been talking for nearly a month. She even tells me she nearly demanded to know that day why I waited so long to call. And I can’t believe my luck. It seems I do have an effect on her the same way she does on me‒perhaps not to the same extent.

Katniss and I talk on the phone or text and get to know one another, regularly meeting up for lunch or a drink: chamomile or low-caffeine teas or juice, and hot cocoa, a favorite of hers, when the weather turns cooler. We do this for about six months before taking things any further. Trust me, it hasn’t been easy to wait, but I wanted Katniss to feel ready‒I think I was ready for her from the start.

I talk frequently about my lady friend to Ben, but I don’t introduce them just yet.

Katniss and I start dating right around Thanksgiving. I certainly know what I’m thankful for this year. Every year, it’s Ben, of course, but this year, I have two.

I’m insatiable for Katniss, though, because our relationship is new, and because of our slightly complicated situation (really, only in her mind), we take things slow. Regardless, it’s incredible. She’s incredible.

When I do introduce Katniss to Ben not long after, as my girlfriend, he adores her. He’s shy and intimidated by her at first, even whispers to me about how pretty she is, but once she starts talking about the woods, he’s a goner for her‒same as I was that very first day. If that wasn’t enough, she cinches his esteem and affection by gifting him the book she told me about, Benjamin the Brave.

We give it to him together, as a birthday gift, and that night, we take turns reading it to him.

Against my better judgment, I decide to bring Katniss to my family Thanksgiving. And it’s kind of a small disaster. Delly is there with Ben, being nosy about my new girlfriend, and over a ton of food, there are whisperings (most not-so-subtle) about Katniss’s condition. It’s pretty obvious she’s pregnant.

It goes well enough for a while, though. Katniss is nuts over the food, especially the baked goods. I remind her that I come from a long line of bakers, so they should be incomparable.

The cat is finally let out of the bag when my middle brother, Rye, being the moron he is, outright asks me if my girlfriend is pregnant or if she’s just a little chubby. I nearly hurl my fork at his head.

Katniss excuses herself, then, and I follow to check on her. I catch up to her outside the bathroom. She’s a tad emotional, though not crying, just shaking a bit and wearing a sort of deer in headlights, panicked expression. I hug her tightly and promise to beat the crap out of my brother. She tells me it’s not that, that she’s just feeling overwhelmed and uncertain. I ask her if she wants to go, and she says no. I ask her what I can do to make it better, and she proceeds to tell me we should just get it over with, and tell my family everything right now.

And so, we got back, and I get everyone’s attention. I clear my throat and prepare to make a little speech…

“This is my girlfriend, Katniss,” I begin. “She’s 27 years old. She loves reading, camping, hiking, and hunting. She loves drinking herbal tea with tons of sugar and hot cocoa. She adores my cheese buns.” I smile sappily over at her, and she smiles right back at me. “Yes, she’s pregnant. No, it’s not my baby. She was pregnant when I met her, and I think she was very brave to do it without a partner for a while. But I don’t want her to be without one anymore. I won’t let her be. I’m madly in love with her, and I’m going to stay by her side through all of it.”

The last part of my statement clearly hits Delly, and I wonder what she’s thinking. From her raised brow and slack jaw, I imagine she’s shocked I’d do such a thing. She should know better, though. If I was willing to be there for the woman who cheated on me, why wouldn’t I be there for the woman I’m in love with, who’s been nothing but devoted to me? One might say, well, that was your child and this isn’t. But that doesn’t matter to me. I’m already hopelessly attached and in love with Katniss’s unborn child, same as I am with her, and maybe it’s too soon to even be thinking this, but if she’ll have me, I hope to one day call Katniss’s baby mine, too.

“Well, you sure summed that up, didn’t you?” Katniss whispers.

“I, uh…” I open my mouth, then snap it shut. “Is there…anything I need to apologize for?” I ask.

Katniss smirks slightly and shakes her head. “No, I think you said it just right. Succinct. Couldn’t have done better myself.”

I’m so relieved she’s not angry that I chuckle and lean over and kiss her cheek. I don’t care that they’re all watching. I’d plant one one her lips right now if my son weren’t watching. But Ben doesn’t say yuck or cover his eyes or look away, like most boys his age would; instead, he gives me a smile and a little thumbs-up. I always knew my son was something special.

I lean over again and whisper “I love you” in Katniss’s ear. Then I nip her earlobe, and she giggles. She looks into my eyes, and even though I’m not expecting anything, again, I’m hopeful.

“I love you, too,” she whispers back, and my heart nearly bursts from happiness.

I ask her to move in with me two weeks later, and she surprises me yet again by saying yes.

Another utterly perfect, exquisite being comes into this world on January 1st, a tiny, dark-haired girl with olive skin and gray eyes, who looks almost exactly like Katniss. We call her Serene, short for Serendipity. —– The following Thanksgiving, we’re headed to dinner with my family, this time with our 10-month-old daughter‒yes, we consider her ‘our’ daughter, even though she’s not biologically mine‒in tow.

#everlark #everlark fanfiction #autumn #autumn 2021 #jhsgf82 #submission #prompt

90 notes · View notes

endlessymphony · 3 years

Note

hi hi !! i was wonder if i could get a remus x reader where the reader is the mom friend of the group and super caring to the other boys (like constantly telling them to take care of themselves and helping with homework and such) and the boys tease the by calling them “mom and dad” all the time ? its literally my fave trope wkixiskjg also i love all ur writings !!! thank u !! xx

parental dynamic.

remus lupin x fem reader

summary - you were always the ‘mom friend’ in every group, what happens when you and the ‘dad friend’ partner up?

warnings - cussing

a/n - y’all making me simp for everyone

no matter what friend-group you were in, you always ended up earning the title of group ‘mom’; maybe that was because you carried around ibuprofen in case someone had a headache, or how you helped everyone with their homework- going so far as to tutor them, or perhaps it was the fact that you always had snacks on you because merlin-forbid someone gets hungry.

it was no surprise that when you started hanging around with the marauders, they started calling you ‘mom’; in fact, you took that nickname with pride. they clung to you like a group of lost ducklings, being a constant reminder of why you carry around meds, snacks and offer homework help. however, it was a shock when they started calling remus ‘dad’- he was always a little standoffish and aloof, not really fitting the ‘dad’ type. ...did they just start doing this because of your little crush on him?

you sighed heavily, walking into the gryffindor common room to see sirius, james and peter already lounging about. “hey mom.” came a chorus of voices, none of them lifting their heads from whatever they were doing. “hey, boys.” you hummed in response, dropping your bag, which landed on the ground with a thump. sirius looked up, giving you a quizzical look as to ask ‘are you okay?’ without any words. “today was a long day- just tired, is all.”

you claimed your space on the floor near the fireplace, body feeling heavy. you were exhausted, classes draining you of any life you had left to give. they all offered you sympathetic looks, “does anyone need help with anything?” you ask, looking over at them. “well… we’ve all been pretty stuck on this thing for potions.” peter admits, face flushing slightly. you can’t help but chuckle, “alright let’s get started, shall we?”

an hour has passed, and you’ve pretty much done everybody’s homework for them. “does that make sense now?” you ask, the boys nodding at you. “thank you, mum.” sirius chimes, shooting a wink in your direction. you yawn, rubbing your eyes as you starfish yourself across the floor. “hey guys. sorry, i’m late, i know.” remus smiles sheepishly as he sits down on the floor with the rest of you, arms full of books. “i was in the library, and then i lost track of time.”

“it’s okay, dad.” james replies, peeking at you from the corner of his eye. you felt your whole face heating up- the nickname meant nothing, right? it was just for fun, a joke. you rolled over to lay on your stomach, propping your head up on your palms. “hey rem.” you said softly, a small smile gracing your lips.

“maybe we should give mom and dad some alone time.” sirius said, grabbing his bag and standing up, heading upstairs to the dorms. james and peter followed shortly after, not before james could wink at the two of you, though. “shithead.” you grumbled under your breath, remus chuckled lightly. “so, mom” he starts, “how was your day?”

you sit up, crossing your legs as you sigh again, heavily. “tiring, i’m absolutely drained. how about you, dad?” the two of you can’t help but giggle about the nicknames. “how did you end up as dad, anyways?” using air quotations around the word dad. you tilt your head, raising a brow slightly. he stumbles over his words, running a hand through his hair- a nervous habit. “not sure, really. they just started calling me it one-day.”

“yeah, sure.” you drawl, winking at him. all five of you had a habit of winking, but no one knows who started it- if you had to guess, it was probably sirius. “okay, honestly. they started calling me it because i maybesortoflikeyoualittlebit?” he grew quiet towards the end of the sentence, all his words slurred together, not legible. you furrowed your brows slightly, “you what?” “i like you, y/n.” “oh.”

the heat returned to your face, even worse this time then the last. remus lupin? likes you back? could this day get any better? “i’m sorry, i shouldn’t have said anything.” remus looks down at his hands, fidgeting with his fingers. “no-no! it’s fine… i, uh.” you struggle to format your feelings into words, so you just give up- grabbing him by the tie and putting your lips on his.

remus’ eyes widen, before closing gently as he kissed you back, hands now resting against your cheeks- cupping your face. it was a sweet and simple first kiss, the two of you pulling back out of breath and flustered.

chuckles fill the room, “so… you guys really needed that alone time, huh?” james asked, smirking at the two of you. “shut up potter, or i won’t help you with potions anymore.” you shoot back, “understood.”

bonus;

“what if we pampered you for a night? like it was mother’s day or somethin’”

you couldn’t help but chuckle, a smile spreading across your face. “you’re kidding.” you went to grab your bag, wanting to start your readings for divination, but sirius pushed it out of your reach. “no, seriously y/n, we never really repay you for what you do for us.”

“fine.”

you ended up with various items ‘braided’ stuck in your hair- sirius did a decent job with the makeup, but you still ended up with too much hot-pink blush on and green eyelids. nailpolish was all over your fingers, not just your nails, but you can admit that peter did a good job with the intricate nail-art he contributed to the ‘pampering’.

“hey guys i’m- woah.” remus stopped in his tracks, dumbfounded by the sight in front of him. you gave him an awkward smile, “hey rem.”

tags 🏷- @miss-starkov @seekinglumos @wizardwheezes @terrific-tozier

join my taglist ˗ˏˋ here ! ˎˊ˗

264 notes · View notes

the-witty-pen-name · 3 years

Text

Deadbeat Pt. 7

Lee Bodecker x F!Reader

18+ ONLY

Warnings: age gap (reader is 21), fluff, angst, cursing, abandonment, toxic parent, violence, toxic siblings, infatuation, cheating/divorce, insecurity, mild housewife kink, mentions of prostitution, mentions of alcohol, corrupt official, fake relationship, jealousy

Word Count: 2.5k

Summary: You work at the bar at the edge of town, the Sheriff is going through a divorce and needs to rent a room.

A/N:

IMPORTANT UPDATE

I made a Google form to be added to my taglists, so if you want to be added, the link is in my bio. I’ll only be adding people to the list if they requested to be added by filling out the form! This way all of the requests are just in one place so I don’t miss requests! Thank you!!!

I’m sorry for this chapter being shorter than normal, but it is more of a transitional chapter to set up some new stuff! I’m trying a new writing style in this chapter and this is why the word count is shorter. I’m nervous about posting this chapter honestly, since I tried something different. The following chapters will be back up to 3.5-4k as usual! This story is not over!

Thank you all so much for reading and sharing my work. Everyone whose reached out and told me how much they love the story really makes my day, oh my gosh!! I love you all so much, I’m so thankful.

Address mentioned is completely made up.

This is unedited, and I missed anything I should include as a warning let me know! I hope you all enjoy!

Tags and Requests are OPEN

Part One // Part Two // Part Three // Part Four // Part Five // Part Six

Lee never stopped telling you how much he loved you. At first, you had thought it was a spur of the moment exclamation but you were mistaken. When you realized he meant it, you reciprocated telling him you loved him too, making him the happiest man in the world. It all happened so fast, and your relationship was evolving quickly.

Maybe living together played a factor in how quickly the relationship progressed. It’s hard to just be dating someone you already live with and can’t take out on proper dates. It made everything else happen faster. He wished he could spoil you and take you to restaurants and walk into a room with you on his arm, but he couldn’t yet.

But from that moment on, he never stopped telling you. He said the phrase probably every moment he could manage. Every time he called from his office; he wouldn’t hang up without muttering the phrase. He’d tell you that he loved you before he left the house, or he’d just announce it unprompted when you both were home together, like it was some epiphany or declaration. He’d love to whisper it to you, especially at night with you pulled tightly to his chest.

He made sure he’d tell you in nonverbal ways as well, always letting you know he was thinking about you. Somehow, you’d end up with flowers on your desk at work at least once a week as well, never with a card. He’d cook, and on his days off, he’d spend them with you or he would surprise you by fixing things on the house. Never in a million years had you ever expected Lee Bodecker to be such a romantic, and when you’d joke about it, he’d say,

“You give me a reason to be, doll.”

It was thrilling, having someone to love and to have those feelings reciprocated. The ability to just be able to give and receive love was something he was never able to manage, perhaps it was just never the right person, or perhaps he had always been too selfish.

Now for the first time in a very long time, he wasn’t thinking about himself.

You gave him purpose and something worth fighting for.

“When this whole thing is over and we’re out of this town, I’m gonna marry you,” he said rubbing your arm as you lay in bed cuddled up to his side. You lay your arm across his tummy and rest your head on his chest. You hum in agreement, resting your eyes, both of you waking up earlier than you needed and you were enjoying the peaceful moment of the morning together.

“I hate seeing you with that Russel kid,” he’ll mutter, possessively pulling you closer, you could feel the vulnerability in his voice.

The past weeks have been really hard on Lee. It bothered him more and more each day, knowing Arvin was the one who got to drive you home from work and just being out and about with you. He knew you were his, and he never didn’t trust you. But you were so blind to the boy’s obvious feelings for you. It was something that would eat at him at night.

He couldn’t even blame you, if Arvin was able to sweep you away from him. Arvin was a good kid- took care of his family, worked a decent job, went to Church, and he was your age. He was much better looking in the traditional sense than Lee as well. Plus, you had a history. The boy was your first love and no one forgets their first love.

He knew you didn’t look at Arvin the same way Arvin looked at you, but he was always worried that a shift could come. If that damned reporter wouldn’t leave town and the more time you spent with Arvin, the more you’d see how much you’d actually want to be with him instead. You always told Lee he was the one you wanted and he believed you, but he worried that you would change your mind. He was so insecure, and he felt guilt, and he knew that he didn’t deserve to be happy, that he didn’t deserve your affection.

Sometimes he couldn’t let himself relax. Scenarios of all the different reasons you could leave him for polluted his mind and he hated how it took him out of being in the moments he just wanted to enjoy. He’d see you in his mind, happy with Arvin, marrying him instead and creating all those experiences with Arvin instead of him.

“He’s just my friend,” you reiterate, probably now for the millionth time. You were patient, and it never seemed to bother you, that the two of you ending up having this same conversation over and over. He needed the constant reassurance, and he hated the fact that he did.

“I want you, Lee,” you’ll mumble affectionately, trying to shower him with compliments and praise, to lift him up when he got down like this. “I don’t want any other man,” you’d affirm.

“This town is poison,” Lee mutters, looking out the window, the blinds pulled back as the sun is steadily rising. “Everything feels like it’s tainted,” he observes.

“Except us,” you correct him. He nods, but he knows his statement especially applies to him.

“Except you,” he sighs, his fingertips tracing circles on your bare shoulder.

“You don’t think you’ve ruined me, Sheriff?” you tease, making him smile, gradually pulling him out of his state. You’d lean up and kiss him, and the sensation would help his thoughts fade away for a few minutes. The feeling of your lips and soft skin against his own just putting his mind at ease, using his other senses to just keep his mind at bay.

He’s not sure if you realize how much he means it when he talks about escaping away from the town and marrying you. He thought about it all the time and it was what he was working toward. He knew even if he managed to go straight, if when Curtis left town, if the case around your mom was resolved, the town would still eat you up. The image of you both would be sullied. Reputation was crucial for survival in a town like this. You’d already been subjected to it before your relationship started.

He knew the solution was simple. He needed to take you away from Ross County, move to a new town where no one knew you both. It would just be a Sheriff and his new bride looking for a place to settle down. No rumors, or peeping eyes, or reporters, or exes, no corruption- just the two of you. Get a house, maybe start a family if you wanted that too.

He hoped you did. He’d be content either way, but he wanted a big family. His growing up was much less than ideal and it was just him and his sister. He loved the idea of a bigger family. He loved the image of having a house that was loud in a different way than what he grew up in. He often worried if he’d be a good father, but he never once doubted how excellent of a mother you would be if you wanted.

The only thing he wanted in his future was you, and everything else would be a blissful bonus of things he also doesn’t deserve. But to him you deserved the world and he simultaneously wanted to give you everything but then at the same time he felt like he would hold you back. You were young and had so many good years ahead of you. He couldn’t imagine you’d want to waste the rest of your life or even the rest of your twenties with him.

You could get a job doing anything you wanted and he could run for Sheriff in the new town maybe, or he could do something else. It didn’t matter to him anymore really. The time he’s been with you has really helped him see what is actually important. It was the only thing he wanted. He wanted to be able to give you that because he knew that you deserved it and more than he’d ever be able to give you.

Laying in bed with you on this lazy morning, reminded him of the last time he was there when you were still bartending. It was the first time that pesky day dream of his started. It was something a lot bigger now than it was then. He loved you, and he was relieved he could say it to you now, and he wanted to settle down. This backwards way the two of you got together was a mess but it was yours. He wouldn’t trade it for anything, but he knew he needed to make things right.

He had been so blind, for so long, and he finally started to feel like he could be someone he actually wanted to be.

All he needed was time and he could set it all straight.

***

Arrest of Pimp in Knockemstiff, Ohio Reveals Corruption of Town Sheriff

By: Henry Curtis

Sheriff of Ross County, Lee Bodecker, has been allegedly involved in the coverup of a local brothel, run by Leroy Brown. Brown and several of his associates were arrested on Wednesday night by local police for drug possession and possession of illegal firearms. As the group resisted arrest, there was a shoot out at a small bar in Meade, which was revealed to serve as a front for their operation. Seven men, including Brown, were arrested Wednesday night for questioning by the local police.

While giving his statement, Brown confessed to the charges and in hopes of a lesser sentence, cooperated with police and provided names of all involved in the underground prostitution ring. He provided the police with twelve names, including that of the local Sheriff Lee Bodecker and his sister Sandy Henderson, who has since also been apprehended by the local authorities.

Sandy Henderson was apprehended on Thursday morning, and made bail for $500 that Saturday. Henderson and her husband, both denied an opportunity to provide a statement. The pair only stated they will be promptly returning home and want to put this behind them.

Although there has been no release of his official statement as of yet regarding this alleged involvement, Bodecker was taken into custody the next morning, apprehended by his deputies from his home. Deputy Bill Thomas has since announced that the Sheriff will be subject to a trial in the near future, and for now faces an indefinite suspension from his post until his innocence has been proven. Deputy Thomas has also said that regardless of the outcome of the trial, Bodecker will be unable to run for reelection next term.

With this new development, it is also worth noting that the Sheriff is a tenant of (Y/N) (Y/L/N), the daughter of Estelle (Y/L/N)-Tucker who is currently wanted by law enforcement for embezzling thousands from her husband Harvey Tucker’s company, Tucker Brokerage, and then fleeing with her sixteen-year-old son. When police arrived at her home Thursday morning to apprehend the Sheriff, deputies on scene took an official statement from (Y/L/N), where she denied knowledge of the Sheriff’s involvement in any of the alleged criminal activities nor any knowledge regarding her mother or brother’s whereabouts.

Woman Wanted for Embezzling Funds from Tucker Brokerage Arrested in Indiana

By: Henry Curtis

Former resident of Knockemstiff, Ohio, Estelle (Y/L/N)-Tucker was arrested in South Bend, Indiana yesterday morning before dawn. Being able to identify her as a wanted person, Este and Harold Turner, owners of the Sunnyside Motel where (Y/L/N)-Tucker had been staying for about three days prior to the arrest, notified the local authorities she was staying in one of their rooms. She also was accompanied by her sixteen-year-old son.

The boy’s older sister has now become the boy’s sole guardian and he has since returned to his hometown. According to the police, the boy was completely cooperative and they believe he had no knowledge of his mother’s crimes. In a statement given the night of the arrest, the boy told police he believed they were running from his step-father, as his mother insinuated, she had been a victim of domestic abuse. There is no evidence yet as to whether her statement is true, but there will be an investigation of husband, Harvey Tucker, to discover if this claim is true.

Both children of Estelle (Y/L/N)-Tucker have not agreed to speak about their mother or the situation to anyone except police. Daughter, (Y/N) (Y/L/N), said when she arrived in Indiana to pick up her brother, seemed to only care about getting her brother home safely. Locals report she never asked to see her mother, and only focused on her brother.

As of now, (Y/L/N)-Tucker will remain in the custody of the South Bend Police until they are ready to transport her to Columbus, Ohio where she will face jail time and then eventually a trial.

Corruption in Knockemstiff High School Staff, Principal Arrested for Illegal Distilling- Sheriff Involved in Cover Up

By: Henry Curtis

Principal of local high school, Mark Cunningham, was arrested today after local police discover an illegal distillery on his residence. Police had retrieved a warrant to search Cunningham’s land after receiving an anonymous tip from a source close to the Principal.

Following his arrest, Cunningham admitted to the felony, but also claimed Ross County’s previous Sherriff, Lee Bodecker, had prior knowledge of the still, and in exchange for his silence, he demanded Cunningham offer a secretarial job at the high school to his landlord, (Y/N) (Y/L/N), who is the daughter of Estelle (Y/L/N)-Tucker, who recently was tried for embezzlement.

The vice-principal of the high school, Meredith Lively, has stepped forth as interim principal until the position can be filled, and ensured the press (Y/L/N) had been fired effective immediately, despite her claims of being unaware any such deal had conspired. Police have found no evidence to contradict (Y/L/N)’s statement, and in an official statement taken from Bodecker, he confirmed that it was part of the deal she not be made aware of the circumstances.

New Sheriff Elected to Ross County

By: Henry Curtis

Former Deputy Bill Thomas has been elected Sheriff of Ross County. Following the trial of former Sheriff Lee Bodecker, who had been found guilty of all charges, Bodecker was barred from office, and given a five-year sentence.

Deputy Thomas in an acceptance speech during a recent town hall meeting, ensured residents of Knockemstiff that “one bad apple doesn’t spoil the whole bunch” and the Sheriff’s department under new control will keep the town safe, and clean of crime and corruption. When asked by reporters how he felt about Bodecker, Thomas only described his situation as “unfortunate.”

There has been no other evidence of corruption within Ross County Sheriff’s Department although the investigation is still ongoing. When asked during his trial if he received any corroboration from any other law officials, Bodecker stated he never involved other members of the force with his wrongdoings.

REAL ESTATE

Room Available for Rent in Knockemstiff, Ohio

$50 monthly rent (utilities included)

1 Bedroom (250 sq. ft.), furnished

Private bathroom with shower

4 Birch Street

Knockemstiff, Ohio

Please call the following number with serious offers. Price negotiable.

PART EIGHT

Taglist

@scar-is-bi @jiminlife2k18 @asylummaniac01 @rosalynshields @charmed-asylum @jamesbuchananbuckybarnes1917 @alexandrathegreat3 @hersilencedscreams @malar-region @purplerain85 @vesper852 @smilewolfdolan @softshell-taco @champagnebucky @lilacmeadows @mollygetssherlockcoffee

383 notes · View notes

ijustwant2write · 4 years

Text

The Nice One-Fred Weasley x Muggle!Dursley!Reader

(GIF credit to @avocadosalad2)

Masterlist

Prompt List

Tag List: @obsessedwithrandomthings

Requested by anonymous: 'I have this idea about Fred Weasley falling in love with Harry’s muggle cousin. a dursley. Maybe y/n and Harry were always really close and she obviously knows all about magic. She’s the only person, Harry actually loved and trusted as a child and that didn’t change when he found out he was wizard so there really close, he sees her as a sister. Maybe he wants to introduce her to ginny because Harry wants her approval. And reader ends up liking Fred, and Fred likes her back.'

Characters: Fred Weasley x Muggle!Dursley!Reader, Harry Potter x Muggle!Dursley!Reader (cousin), Weasley Family x Muggle!Dursley!Reader (platonic), Hermione Granger x Muggle!Dursley!Reader (Platonic)

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name

Warnings: Mention of neglect/child abuse, lots of fluff

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Sitting back in a plastic chair, I looked out of the huge window of the coffee shop, sighing as I realised it had started to rain. I never minded the rain really, but it had been like this since May, with no sign of a proper English summer in sight. Harry returning to the table with two mugs of tea distracted me, and I smiled as he set them on the table, sitting opposite to me.

“It feels like ages since we did this.” I said, blowing over the top of the tea.

“Yeah, I’m sorry I’ve not called or contacted you in any way recently.” he apologised, casting his eyes down.

“Harry, you don’t have to be sorry for anything.” I reassured him.“You’ve been making your life in...well, your world. We’ve all grown up, had to get used to becoming adults and such. Though it is a shame we haven’t seen each other for over a year.”

“Year and a half actually.”

“I wasn’t surprised when you invited me here though. Of course, this is under better circumstances. I’m not having to drag you out of the house to avoid my parents.”

“No, this is much nicer.” he chuckled.“How are they by the way? I was able to see Dudley last month.”

“They’re fine, same as always. I don’t see them as much as I should, though I do call them often. Sometimes it’s hard you know, especially after all that’s happened in the last few years.” I took a sip of tea, finally able to start drinking it.

Harry seemed hesitant to speak again.“Actually, I was wanting to ask you something.”

“Yeah?”

“Do you remember me talking to you about a girl called Ginny?”

“Ooh, has my little cousin fallen in love?” I was teasing until I saw the genuine smile on his face.“Wait, Harry, do you really like this girl?”

“W-well...I h-have for a while, we actually told each other our feelings when, when other things turned serious. And it’s been going good between us, really good, which leads me to my question.”

I was confused as to where this was going, but waited for him to carry on.

“I was wondering if you would come meet her?”

“You want me to meet her?” I excitedly repeated.

“Yeah,” he smiled back,“there’s going to be a birthday party for me at her family home. She’s a Weasley.”

“Wait, isn’t that the last name of your friend Ron?”

“It is.”

“You’re dating your best friend’s sister?”

“I’ve already talked about it with him! Do you remember I stayed with him over that summer, and I wrote to you from there?”

“The Burrow!”

He nodded.“They’re more than happy to have you there.”

“Of course I’ll come Harry! For now, you have to tell me everything about this Ginny girl.”

The party was two weeks away, and I could not contain my excitement as it got closer and closer. Although Harry had told me much about the wizarding world, he was the only wizard I had ever met (unless I counted that giant man that had tracked us down when Harry first found out he possessed magic, though there weren’t any introductions), and I was extremely excited to meet more of them. Would they constantly be using magic? Would they just conjure up food and drink? And would they be comfortable with me there? I knew that Harry wouldn’t leave me alone unless I was one hundred percent comfortable with everyone.

It was surprising that Harry hadn’t become irritated with me on the day of his party. He was coming to pick me up, and I had greeted him with an over excited tone, setting off a party popper which made strings of confetti land on his head. I had never been able to celebrate Harry’s birthdays publicly, always sneaking into his room or under the cupboard to give him a small present and a hug to wish him happy birthday (once I was earning my own pocket money, or sweetly asking dad for a few pounds, I would buy him cupcakes as a birthday cake, stashing away sweets for him after he saw how much we were given). Dragging him into my flat, I demanded he close his eyes, dashing in and out of the kitchen with a stupid grin on my face. Counting down from three, I giggled as Harry opened his eyes, smiling when he saw me holding a cupcake with a candle in my hands.

"You didn't forget."

"Of course I didn't. Is it...is it alright?" I became worried, wondering if I had brought up bad memories.

"No, no, I actually missed this. It was one of the things I looked forward to each year."

He blew out the candle, sighing when I urged him to close his eyes and make a wish. Harry then pushed me to get a move on, his eyes widening when he saw me pick up two presents with wrapping paper, as well as a smaller one on top. I walked past him before he could say anything about them, handing him the keys to lock up.

As we turned up at the infamous Burrow, I couldn't help but stand back in awe. It was like nothing I had ever seen, and although shabby looking, very put together, it had some sort of charm to it, it was so different to other houses. Harry had already taken a few steps forward, stopping when he noticed me not move.

"(Y/N)?"

My eyes snapped back down to him."Oh, sorry."

"It's going to be fine." he said, coming to stand beside me.

I just nodded, walking next to him and standing back when he knocked on the door. A short woman opened it, squealing with excitement when she saw Harry, and as she dragged him in for a hug, she playfully scolded him for knocking, claiming that he could waltz in whenever. Staying outside, I poked my head in, still holding the presents in my arms. I watched as Harry was engulfed in numerous hugs, everyone wishing him happy birthday as well as joking and laughing with him. It shocked me. The only time I saw him this happy was when I was able to cheer him up as kids (and that was extremely hard to do when he lived in the hell hole I called home), but a sudden wave of emotion attacked me, I was so happy to see him being treated right.

"Everyone, this is my cousin, (Y/N)." Harry interrupted my thoughts once again, gesturing for me to step inside.

Sheepishly walking in, I held onto the presents a little tighter, smiling through the awkwardness. There were so many of them standing there.

"Here, let me take those from you love." a man who seemed to be the dad offered, placing the presents on a nearby table. Now I was out in the open.

"So this is the decent one?" one of the younger lads said to break the silence.

"Ronald Weasley, you mind your manners!" the woman scolded him."Don't mind him dear, it's lovely to meet you. Harry has never stopped talking about you."

"He's right though," Harry said,"this is the nice one."

"It's nice to see that Harry stayed in such a lovely place, and with lovely people."

Really (Y/N)? That's the first thing you come out with?

"Oh what a sweetheart." the woman gushed."Believe me, they look like angels, but they don't act like one."

Harry soon broke us into a general conversation, attempting to introduce me to everyone. This family was so different to mine. It felt more loving, as if they didn't hate to be around each other all the time. They included each other in every conversation, they laughed together, joked around with each other. And they also included me.

We were sat around a long table, squeezed amongst one another with food and drink laid out. I had Harry one side of me, and his old friend Hermione on my other. I believed that she and Ron had romantic connections, but I was hoping she would shed some light on Harry's love life, as Ginny was sat beside him.

"They've only recently become public. Everyone knew that they were together, it was bound to happen. But we all acted surprised anyway." Hermione and I giggled, drowned out by the sound of everyone talking.

"Oh bless him, he seemed very happy when he mentioned her. That's why he invited me actually, he was wondering what I would think about her. They don't seem to be able to keep their eyes off each other."

"Someone else seems to have their eyes on someone." she smirked.

I followed her eye line, seeing one of the twins looking in our direction before averting their gaze. I had remembered that they were each wearing the same jumper but with different colours, thankfully making it easier to tell them apart. It had been Fred looking my way, and I hated that I was blushing already; no one had looked at me like that for a long time.

"I'm sure that was nothing." I mumbled.

"If you say so." I heard Ginny say, making me whip my head round to her. She was leaning forward to look at me, and I saw Harry holding back a laugh.

"Come on, I haven't even spoken to him."

"Maybe you should. Perhaps this was meant to happen."

Molly stopped all chatter across the table, standing up to announce that it was present time. Heaps of presents were pushed down to our end of the table, Harry was shocked by how many there were, but stuck right in. After thanking all of the Weasley’s for their sweet presents, especially Ginny. With my presents left, I felt all eyes on me, nervous as to what they would think of my gifts.

One was a collection of books he read when he was younger (until my brother got angry at him and ripped out the pages), the other was two shirts I knew would look nice on him. The last present was a photo book, which I had had personalised; on the front it said ‘Harry’s Memories’, in a beautiful swirling style of writing. The toothy grin on his face fell slightly, and I began to panic again. Everyone waited for him to open the book, a slight tension in the air. Harry slowly opened the book, reading the message I had left for him in his head. It entailed fond memories we had, and how proud I was of him for setting out to school by himself, and how many times he was brave enough to put himself on the line for his friends and family. Turning the next page, a breathless laugh left his lips when he saw the photos I chose. Unfortunately there weren’t many of us together, or of him in general, but I had raided our old cameras back home to find any photos I had taken of him without my parent’s knowledge. After flipping over another page that turned out to be blank, he looked up at me, as did everyone else.

“It’s blank so that you can fill it. I knew you wouldn’t want memories of home, just...just me I suppose. But I’m sure you’ve got better memories to put in there now.” I shyly explained.

“This is amazing, thank you (Y/N).” Harry said, hugging me tightly.

“The pictures aren’t moving?” Ginny questioned.

My eyebrows furrowed in confusion.“Your pictures move?”

Once dinner was done with, along with a round of singing as the birthday cake came out, we all broke off into smaller groups. This would have given me an opportunity to speak to Ginny, I had a strong feeling that she was absolutely perfect for him, they seemed well matched, but I still wanted a chat at least. However, Harry had stolen her away, and it wasn’t the right time to intervene. As I thought about who to talk to, Fred walked up to me, leaning against the kitchen counter top as I was.

“Thought you looked a little lonely over here.” he said, but it wasn’t in a cocky way, he was being genuinely kind.

“Thanks.” I laughed.

He smiled.“I-I didn’t mean it like that.”

I looked up at him.“No I know what you meant. I was actually thanking you.”

“Ah.”

There was a moment of silence as neither of us were sure what to say next. Suddenly, something popped into my mind,“You know, I’ve seen you before.”

“What?”

“When you came to rescue Harry, in your flying car. I was in my room, but my room was next to Harry’s, so I could just about see you and your brothers.”

“That was so many years ago.”

I nodded.“I just remember how shocked I was when I saw the car, but also how relieved I felt when I saw Harry get in there. I was in trouble for not going to my parents straight away though.”

“You don’t sound like a typical Dursley at all.”

“I suppose I’m not. I was never the favourite, for some reason Dudley was. But I was so focused on keeping Harry somewhat happy that it didn’t matter. I just got good results at school, made friends and kept the biggest secret in the world.”

“It is slightly strange having a Muggle about.”

“How do you think I feel? The dishes are doing themselves over there!” I gestured to the sink where there was a floating plate and sponge. He laughed at that."That would be so useful to have at home, especially after a long day."

"So," he crossed his arms over his chest, leaning towards me,"what do you think about our families combining?"

I took a sip of my drink, following his eye line to Harry and Ginny."I can't express how happy I am for him."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. And I'm not just saying nice things because Ginny is your sister. Harry had a long talk about what happened in the past, he's mentioned her, well, all of you, a lot. You've all been able to give him much more than I have."

"That's not true. Harry has expressed multiple times how he didn't know what he would have done if you weren't there for him."

"Seems like everything has worked out perfectly in the end. It even feels right me being here."

"I can agree on that."

"Even if I'm a Muggle?"

"Can't say that's the first thing I noticed about you."

My eyes widened slightly, slowly looking down into the content of my cup."Fred, if I didn't know any better, I would say you were flirting with me."

"Thank god you noticed, thought I might have to start using pick up lines."

"You still can if you want to."

"Nah, think I'll save that for a first date."

"If you're asking, then the answer would be a yes."

"Well, glad that's been sorted."

I giggled quietly, trying not to show how much I was enjoying this."Do I get to find out where you're taking me?"

"If I'm honest, I wasn't sure if I would get this far."

We laughed together, catching the attention of his parents who were with Hermione and Ron. We quietened down, finding it hard to hold back on giggling. Before we could even continue speaking, Harry was approaching me, and I knew he wanted to find out what had happened since he left me alone.

"So, uh, what are you two talking about?" Harry failed to play dumb.

I rolled my eyes, placing a hand on his shoulder."OK, whilst you interrogate my date, I'll go talk to your girlfriend. Sound like a deal?"

"D-date?"

"Don't act like you weren't listening. Relax Harry, this is your party after all."

I heard him sigh to Fred as I walked away."You two are going to be trouble, I just know it."

#fred weasley x reader #fred weasley one shot #fred weasley imagines #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley #harry potter x reader #harry potter one shot #harry potter imagines #harry potter imagine #harry potter

1K notes · View notes

lovely-jily · 3 years

Text

cruel summer

hi friends. i'm working on a cute fic based off of taylor swift's "cruel summer". it's a muggle au of best friends to lovers:)

here's a snippet of the first chapter and i'll link it below. if you have any suggestions please send them my way, i'm not really set on anything and would love your input. i love you all and your support means the most to me

read on ao3

wattpad

Lily was hot and bothered, and not in a way that she wanted. While it was only late May, it was already a record-breaking summer in terms of heat. Lucky for her, Lily had the opportunity to spend almost all day in the beating sun as she weeded a garden that wasn't even hers.

Her mother made her get a summer job with the lovely old lady down the street. Every day Lily went over to help keep the woman's house tidy and the garden in top shape. While Mrs Potter was very kind, there were many other things that Lily would rather be doing at that moment instead of pulling at stubborn weeds.

One of those things was Mrs Potter's grandson, James. They were decently inseparable. They grew up together, and Lily watched as he grew from a sweet little boy to someone who was quite handsome.

While James was quite good-looking, Lily never really thought of him as anything other than one of her best friends, despite what all her other friends might have said.

Well, maybe she had a little bit, but he wouldn't ever think about her in that way. They had a relationship where they could tell each other everything, even the all too personal stuff. "Personal stuff", as in all his adventures with girls. He was quite the charmer and knew precisely what to say to get into his next victim's pants.

Lily saw a familiar shadow fall over her dirt-stained hands and smirked slightly. She had been waiting for him to show up and at least sit with her while she worked. He made the time go by faster, and they both knew that.

"Are you going to help, or are you just going to stand there and look pretty?" She asked, glancing over her shoulder at him.

She watched as he plopped himself down on the grass, resting on his side with one of his arms holding his head up. His fingers of the unused hand were gingerly holding a toothpick between the smirk plastered on his lips.

"Sit and look pretty? Isn't that what I do best?"

Lily rolled her eyes, dumping a pile of weeds into the bucket next to her and started over to the next section of weeds. She found that the weeds were stubbornly persistent, and it was hard for her to understand the point of ripping them all out if they were going to grow back in a manner of days.

But Mrs Potter paid her well, and so she just dealt with it.

"If your job is to sit and look pretty, then you've been doing a terrible job. Perhaps you should find a new one. Like weeding?" She held up a pile of weeds, smiling slightly.

James just shook his head, still smirking as he looked down to the grass, "I cut things off with Jane."

Lily stopped smiling slightly. He was always moving on quickly to the next girl. For the number of girls James went out with, you would be surprised with how picky the lad was, leaving many girls broken-hearted and crushed. The odd thing about it, though, is James was so likeable that no one resented him. Even his long list of scorned lovers.

"Why? I thought you liked her? Didn't you even say that she might even last until July?" She asked as she turned her body to face him all the way. The weeding could wait- she got paid by the hour anyway.

He sighed as he rolled flat onto his back. He was in a navy and red striped shirt, and it was hard to ignore the way the stripes accentuated his muscles.

James was an athlete, and while he played almost every sport imaginable at one point in his life, he excelled in football. His parents joked that he kicked so much in the womb, it would've been a waste not to have him play. And they were right.

He was the captain of their school's team, and he carried himself that way. He held himself high, walked with a purpose and spoke loud and cheery as if he'd just scored his team the winning goal. He was the perfect mix of disciplined and fun-loving, never failing to make Lily laugh or give her a shoulder to cry on.

"I did," He was looking up at the sky, hazel eyes showing signs of guilt that only Lily could notice. They both learned how to read each other in ways no one else could, "But I dunno, it just didn't feel right anymore. Like I was forcing something to happen that wasn't supposed to."

Lily moved back to the dirt, sighing. The one good thing about James and girls was that he never wasted time. James never led anyone on, never beat around the bush. If he liked you, you knew it. And if he didn't... Well, all Lily could say was that there were enough girls that James had hurt that she wouldn't be surprised if they formed a support group of some kind.

"How'd she take it?"

"Fine, I guess," He shrugged, taking the toothpick out of his mouth and resting his arms at his sides. Lily watched as he rolled it lightly between his fingers, "I'm sure she isn't happy about it, but at least she didn't cry so hard that she threw up all over my car."

That was Lane Maxwell. To soften the blow of being dumped, James took her to get frozen yoghurt before. Right after James ended it with her, she sobbed for roughly 15 minutes before throwing up all of her frozen yoghurt on the floor of his passenger seat. The Toyota Tacoma smelled like old milk and Lane Maxwell's vomit for days, serving as a reminder to James that the best way to break up with someone was to just get to the point.

"That's fair," Lily said, smiling at the memory. James called her right after it happened, and together, they tried their best to clean it, "So who's next? You still wanna take Becca Jenson out?"

James shook his head, "I heard that she was saying some stuff about Sirius and Rem, so I didn't want to bother."

"Fair," Lily was relieved. She never liked Becca Jensen. She found her snobby and pretentious, "You're in high demand, you know. Who doesn't want to go out with the James Potter?"

"You." He said, eyes meeting hers as he winked. Lily once told him that she'd instead be caught dead than go out with him, but that was before he grew up.

She realized that she had since changed her mind.

#im afraid of this tbh #would love some encouragement

64 notes · View notes

persephoneyss · 3 years

Text

The Monster.

Pairing: park jimin x f!reader.

Genre: Yandere, dark themes, anguish.

Summary: ❝You can be reborn like spring, but your nightmares will follow your footsteps at night.❞

Warnings: Yandere behavior, obsession, voyeurism, Jimin is a little delusional, implicit murder, death threats, a little violence, stalking, death of secondary characters, reader idolizes his mother, humiliation.

Number of words: 6000+

︙ Author's note: this is my first fic here, sorry if there are errors. My first language is not English and I don't speak it fluently either, so I used the translator. Sorry about that. I hope you enjoy it, I am open to criticism. Thanks!

(Puedes leer este y más fics aquí en español.)

To block.

Your mind felt strangely familiar, like it was processing the same situation all over again. And then the same thing happened again.

Blocking.

You never noticed those little details, invisible to the eyes of others. Or maybe you took too seriously the message and advice that your mother always told you when you were afraid of being left alone in your room because of the obvious and silly repetitive story of the monster under the bed, you were crying looking for your mother's room in the middle of the night. You were looking for refuge in her arms. However, the only loving words she had for you were: "Ignore him and he will go away, darling."

It seemed very clever to you, you began to close your eyes ignoring your worst fears and in a short time you could do what most children could not at your age, sleep alone in the dark.

Your mother was wise, maybe that's why you never understood why your father left her overnight. She never commented on the subject and little by little it was forgotten in her daily lives. Your father never existed, you never saw him again.

In his small town no one was exceptionally well known, unless he had done something good or bad enough to be called a hero or, in the same way, a villain. You were barely seven years old when it happened, a family with a lot of money had chosen your town as a decent land, enough to build their luxurious house where their children who came from golden cradles would grow up. According to the gossip, they were foreigners coming to invade their town and rule it, when in reality the Parks never got more involved in politics than necessary.

They were just rich, spending money.

Young women from all over the world and even from other distant towns came every day to try to conquer the privileged children of the great mansion built finely and strategically in the middle of the main square. The young women were beautiful, many times you stood at the door of your house admiring their distinguished perfect faces and you wondered if the children of the Park family were really worth it so that young and beautiful women who had previously been rejected would come back again. in search of new opportunities.

Your mother sometimes stood next to you with a smile and released another phrase that ended up marking your style of thinking, her voice sounded so ethereal: "Money compensates for external beauty, plus the dignity that you lose to those who possess it, it will never have a price."

Your lost look made her smile beautifully badly, then that same sweet voice that taught you things that other women would see as irrelevant, she too moments later she orders you to come home to eat. You thought about it so much, your mother was beautiful, she could remarry if she wanted to. However, she never did, or at least until that day.

You were poor, you were never afraid to accept it. You noticed it almost immediately, when you saw other children playing with toys that seemed impossible that you will ever possess, your mother was friends with the one who was best friends with your father, a carpenter who seemed to be very kind. He always gave you toys that came out with small defects and he couldn't sell, he was a good man until he seemed to misinterpret the situations and her relationship with your mother, unexpectedly asking her to marry him. Obviously you had to stop seeing him after the rejection. However, you were stubborn like the woman who gave you life, almost every day after finishing school you walk two streets to her local.

"How is your mother? Any suitors who weren't rejected the first time?" You laughed, helping him finish his last job. You shook your head, Peter was always very nice and honestly funny, you still didn't understand how your mother could reject them, but you never got into adult affairs. You were just an eight-year-old girl.

"She still misses dad." You whisper trying to drive a nail into loose wood, before being interrupted by Peter.

You look curiously at his downcast face of hers, as if she was keeping something deep within himself. But he quickly changes his expression as well as the subject. "Very good girl, no more help for today" he says, removing the dangerous tools out of your reach, you let out a exhausted sigh wanting to help him. Deep down you felt guilty. "How are you doing in school? I heard that the Parks will start a new campaign to help more in the education of the children, maybe you can see someone from the family up close."

You move your head in distracting affirmation playing with a piece of wood, Peter watches you for a moment and then sighs. You really were special, and if I could tell what happened to your father, you would let go of that glow for sure.

The following days passed in the same way, there was only a radical change in your routine. Now they forced you to stay longer in school so that you could take art classes with the children of the Park family. You had heard many mothers talking to yours about how handsome they were, and since their daughters would undoubtedly have a chance with Jimin, who was the eldest son and of course the first-born heir, you thought for a long time about a tall man with more years than all those young women who hallucinated with the perfect millionaire husband. However, it was all an illusion. Jimin was not a man, he was a seventeen year old teenager.

Perhaps the young woman who did win him over would be very lucky to marry someone her own age and not a bitter old man who only had money. Jimin was everything, young, handsome and a millionaire, the best bet of any woman.

His first class was alongside his current teacher, introducing each child in the Park family. They were all very handsome, but Jimin seemed to shine brighter than the stars in the dark night. You wondered if his younger siblings would become jealous of him, it would be an interesting concept considering you had no siblings.

Your hands moved the clay very patiently, your classmates seemed to enjoy these classes and they were undoubtedly fun.

"What a beautiful flower ..." You smiled nodding, no one would ever think that someone like Jimin would be delighted with the common drawing of any girl. Her gaze traveled around your pure and innocent face, as if she couldn't get enough of you. She sat next to you, admiring how your hands continued to play with the dough creating new shapes and I certainly enjoyed every second.

She had never met someone who would attract so much attention from her, you were ethereal. Jimin was immediately drawn to you, your gaze clear as daylight and your soft features, maybe you were just a girl but you seemed to tempt his attention incredibly badly from him. He felt the strange sensation of making sure you were okay, safe, probably in his arms.

He followed you closely, always arriving at the same time. Her mother used to say that Jimin was very irresponsible, she never complied with the basic principles of being a Park: Discipline, order and punctuality. Jimin was different, his siblings may have fulfilled those three bases just to give what they wanted to their parents and receive more affection from him, but not him.

Jimin was obsessive. Impulsive, and he had self-control issues.

The biggest dangerous trait that his parents noticed since he was little, is that he suffered attacks of anger against anyone without caring about the consequences of this. More than three of his babysitters claimed that little Jimin had hit them, slapping and shoving them. But all of this was radically ignored by the Parks, who turned a deaf ear claiming that their son was simply too controlling, and in a way, he was. Jimin liked to have everything under control, at his disposal.

Jimin found himself fascinated with your little eyes looking at him without fear and, even though it was painful for him, without love. For you, he was nothing more than a stranger. He tried to change that, sitting next to you every day and talking to you a few times when he could get more than two sentences out of you. He liked art, I could tell by the way you focus too much on a small painting of an insignificant tree.

If you liked trees, Jimin could buy a forest for yourself.

You loved roses, he could plant thousands in every corner of town.

Or maybe, your obsession with the smell of vanilla. Jimin went wildly for the most expensive vanilla scented lotion, hoping for some praise from you and he really didn't fail.

No, when the next day he sat next to you and your gaze turned to him with a kind smile. "It smells great, Mr. Jimin." Your soft tone and your minimal compliment was enough to make his entire body shake, his hands began to sweat and his voice seemed to falter. It was amazing how you managed to make him so nervous, while he was still a child.

"Y-do you like it?" She asked even knowing the answer, your head bobbing in a quick nod and an even bigger smile adorns your features.

You put your painting aside for a moment to continue responding, Jimin feels elated to see that his plan worked. Now you're just looking at him, as it always should be. "It smells like vanilla, I like vanilla." You say honestly.

"I see, I also like vanilla." You seem shocked, Jimin increases the tension of him fearing that he said something wrong. He really wasn't lying, maybe vanilla wasn't something he used constantly but he didn't dislike it either, he was just disguising and embellishing a crude truth.

And before long, Jimin feels his life take an unexpected turn, people had started to notice his closeness to you. They called him an angel when in reality he was a devil, rumors and silly praise that he would be a good father were not lacking and the young women who came to his door every day to look for a date with him increased in an exorbitant way. You were oblivious to all that, clearly. However, you could not ignore all the looks that fell on you when you accompanied your mother to the market, as from one day to the next you became someone important just because you were the focus of attention of him Mr. Jimin, as you used to call him with respect. Peter also suffered the consequences of this, you had not stopped going to his store and the young women looking to conquer Jimin or at least get his attention began to follow you wanting to win your affection so that you will speak well of them with their desired man, no you were interested in what they could offer you but the biggest problem was that they did not like to receive a clear 'No.' as a reply.

They were insistent and often annoying. They followed you closely, even when you went to school or to visit Peter who now only went twice a week, you did not want to go out and have to face the pity that it gave you to see many beautiful young women begging for a vague love and that I was looking for more money arrangements than anything else. Also, not all of them had good intentions with you. Your mother made sure of your safety in the face of any incident, and with that came her last word, her strict order not to approach Park Jimin again until he found a wife.

The rest would be history.

He would surely forget you and start forming his own family, having his own children and likewise, looking for his own problems. Instead, that never happened. Jimin had discovered your plan, he was angry, he couldn't believe that you were ignoring his attempts to approach you in such a way. Your attitude was so pure but you were hurting her so much.

He was delusional, she knew he was. But he didn't want to stop. So, he did the only thing that would make you stay by his side.

You felt strangely calm, you had been to and from school with no one following closely in your footsteps. Until you noticed that the whole town seemed to look at you with superiority, with caution. Peter never stopped taking care of his store, however, that day it was closed. You gave little thought to that coincidence, walking home with slow steps. Deep down you were scared.

Maybe you thought you could feel it, in front of your house a crowd of people lay watching the most unexpected marriage request. Your mother was uncomfortable, you could tell by how her face was distorted, and how her hands seemed to shake for reasons not yet known to you. You watched in horror as Jimin knelt before her with a smile pulling a ring out of a small red box.

For a moment, you thought about your father. You felt strange, you always wanted to have a warm fatherly hug but it made you uncomfortable to imagine Jimin occupying that place, you did not want him, you did not love him as a daughter to his firstborn or as another similar relationship. He was a stranger.

Your body fell into the seat reserved especially for you, your eyes observed any place in the church trying to disperse your mind. Your little shoes brushed against each other, your hands rested on the wooden seat waiting for the wedding to end as soon as possible. You never wanted to oppose your thoughts to the idea of your mother falling in love or getting married again, you really didn't care much as long as that person was good for her.

However, he was Park Jimin. You felt disgusted when her mother looked at you from afar with despicable eyes, just as anger consumed you when Mrs. Park tried to embarrass your mother in front of everyone. You didn't ask for this, nobody asked for it.

Maybe you spent too much time thinking around you to notice that Jimin was unhappy. A little upset. He had done what he had to do, chained you to him in some twisted way, marrying your mother and he felt happy, at first. I could see you walking through the church, you were wearing a little white dress to match your mother's and for a sinister moment I imagine that you were the one walking towards him to be named his wife. But he quickly came back to reality, you weren't his fiancée. You wouldn't be his wife.

Deep inside him, he knew how gross it was to feel like this.

Your mother's eyes reflected how unhappy she was, her gaze was uncertain. Jimin smiled seeing how you kicked the decorations that fell to the ground, you were completely oblivious to everything and more to the look of her that she followed you closely. Many called him a good father. Seeing nothing but his protective attitudes, but under the circumstances there were only hints of what might come next. You weren't allowed to leave Jimin's house, his father had left the mansion where his whole family used to live.

Mrs. Park could find no better excuse to leave than the sudden tantrum of her first-born son for marrying an older woman, a widow, and a daughter. This is a mockery and disgrace to her family's last name. Jimin just let her go, he wasn't even there the day her mother boarded the first train to her grandmother's house.

Your mother flatly refused to leave her house at first, she did not want to leave the little cabin that your father had built with his own effort so that both of them would live there and in the future raise their children, you always lived there and you did not want to leave either. But you never had a solid vote, your mother ended up agreeing from one day to the next, you did not know how Jimin managed to change his word so suddenly. Maybe there was never one reason, but you became all of them.

You were painfully present at all times. You observed how little by little, the wispy and wise glow that your mother possessed was getting lost between her empty eyes and her bent body, her head was never raised as she taught you it should be. She was a stranger, you felt scared in her presence. You remembered very well how her face seemed to light up when she saw you coming home from school and how she taught you something new every day.

"Mommy..." You spoke, your hands were still busy with the picture that you hadn't finished painting. But curiosity began to attack your mind.

Your mother came out of the kitchen with a little gray apron, she smiled when she saw you sitting on the floor. "Yes, honey?"

"Why do people get married?" Your gaze lifted from the sheet of paper, wincing at her glowing eyes.

"It depends, it's not necessarily for love. Maybe for money, comfort or ..." her voice trailed off, she still staring at you she leaned down to take your face in her hands. "Because they found someone, as cute as you!"

"Mommy ... I want to marry you!" Your mother began to laugh, your gaze traveled all over her face, joyful of hers and for a moment, you swore that you would hate anyone who dared to take away the great happiness of a genuine smile.

You finished your drawing, just in time because the front door echoed through the entire cabin. Your father appeared with a small drawer in his hands, your mother seemed to be illuminated with an angel when she saw him enter with a kind smile. Both were such for which. They were, more than lovers and husbands, lifelong best friends. Your life seemed to have something that many do not get even after death.

An outer and inner peace. It was perfect.

Almost so perfect, it wasn't true. White roses were always your favorites. However, you began to detest its soft light petals when it seemed that all the townspeople bought the same bouquet of white roses for the funeral of your, now, deceased mother. You took a seat next to her grave, ignoring everyone's greetings and goodbyes, who apparently forgot how her criticism of her increased even as the days, months and years of her wedding with Jimin passed.

You couldn't blame anyone. Or you just didn't want to.

Because the rope around his neck was not placed by them. And the multiple scars on his wrists weren't his marks. A small part of you felt helpless, angry and respectively, disgusted with yourself. Could you help her? Yes. No. Maybe if you had ... And he had stayed in the past.

The little white rose in your hand fell to the floor, everyone had left the room to go to the large buffet served at the reception. You froze, then with the same rage you began to step on the already dead flower at your feet, the petals of it were no more than a pure color, now they were disgusting and dirty. Jimin appeared minutes later, your gaze fell on his hand that was holding a black and a red rose.

"We should go, honey." He whispered as if afraid to scare you even though you were already looking directly at him. Your immobile figure instinctively ran into his arms, which greeted you with an incredibly loving warmth. The roses were placed on top of the coffin, a smile spread across your face when you saw the color red stand out against so much white, and for a second you came to compare the beauty of an outstanding color with your mother.

She stood out in a world where everyone wanted to paint themselves pure white.

Jimin was even more welcoming to you now. He pretended to sleep waiting for 11:30 to arrive so that he could hear your footsteps on the way to his room, you had developed a great amount of fear of loneliness. Jimin knew you always did that, but before it was with her instead of him. You would walk for several seconds looking in the dark for his room, which was next to hers, then I would always hear her voice singing for you, making you rest in his arms. For a long time, I want to be her. But now he was gone and I knew it was a matter of time before your steps stopped at his door.

She loved the closeness of your body to hers, how your hands clung to her nightshirt when you were cold or a horrible nightmare was projected into your dreams. Jimin horribly wishes he could see beyond your dreams, although that would be disrespectful to your privacy, he wouldn't mind breaking your trust too much if he could be sure that you would never walk away from him, even in your dreams.

He managed to chain your life to his, your scared look was the most beautiful thing I have seen before. I want to touch your little face and kiss your soft lips that tempted him every time the word "dad" came out of it.

Time was his greatest enemy.

Your presentation was no better, your hands were trembling again while your feet moved from here to there restlessly. Jimin just watched silently, but the distance between you and him was gigantic, he just wished that the damn bitch that was presented before him would shut up and leave his house. It was remarkable how you seemed angry, maybe it's jealousy, she has feelings for me. He thought sickly, a smile spreading across his face discreetly at his incoherent thoughts of him. The young woman sitting on the sofa in front of him smiled thinking that her talk had caused some pleasure in the young and widowed man.

Jimin admired her face, she was very cute, also she seemed to have good manipulation technique in people. She noticed it quickly when she walked through the door, her smile that seemed uncontrollable and genuine lit up his childlike face. He took a few seconds, he knew he shouldn't do it but he couldn't help comparing the woman to you. You were shorter, you were obviously younger and your gaze was more pure. Jimin was proud of your firm stance, knowing that in the two years since your mother's death you had developed a closer connection with him, and likewise, you were a beautifully perfect copy of him. Your hard gaze and your legs crossed with each other showed your firmness, and your silent opinion.

You wanted the fucking bitch sitting across from your stepdad outside your house.

You laughed at the very idea of one day finding a really good replacement for your mother. You couldn't replace a rose with bad herbs. For you, as selfish as he was, Jimin was your father, and he was your mother's love from the day he married her. No one would replace his position.

It was all three of them, and a part of your mind conned that Jimin still wasn't over the love he had for her. Or he would have remarried long ago, when the young women stood in front of the door of his house asking for a date with him. In those moments you didn't care, Jimin was a stranger, but now he was your father and you were his only daughter. No one had the right to ruin their harmonious relationship, they were both alone and someday serious like him.

You will be successful, you will make a lot of money and you will be able to marry someone you love.

But for now, your gaze fell on the little worn and dirty shoes of the woman in front of you. A smile crossed your face, your gaze lifted surprising the woman. While Jimin waited with his arms crossed for your following action.

"Woman." Your voice seemed to cut her tranquility, her face lost total color of life and a small grimace of fear passed over her fragile face. "I can't allow shoes like that to step on the carpet in my house ..."

The woman looked at Jimin who seemed indifferent, distracted by the painting on the wall.

"I'm sorry miss" she whispered trying to remove her shoes, his hands seemed more clumsy than usual. Her face burned when your hand moved closer to hers to prevent any further movement.

"Go away." A tiny part of you felt sorry for his embarrassed face and flushed cheeks. But it quickly came to your mind that she thought she was good enough to believe she was your mother. When she couldn't even challenge a stupid girl who acted like a spoiled brat. "Get out of my house, or I'll have to ask you not to just take off your shoes."

"I-sorry, I'll go now-..." A sob interrupted her dialogue, her hands searched for the notebook she was carrying but she gave up making a quick bow to Jimin and running outside.

The garden was your favorite part of the big house, the walls constantly made you believe that you were going to be eaten by them. Every day you came out of your lair admiring the many roses of many different colors growing beautiful and healthy. Your school stage was about to begin and you did not want to neglect your garden, which was also a tribute to your late mother.

So you hired a gardener. You were seventeen years old and soon to be eighteen. To say that you managed to experience the best of all those years was ridiculous, and deep down inside you, you thought that all of that was possible because of all the things Jimin did for you.

You had a debt, which you planned to pay in the future. You thought about leaving and letting him have a quiet life from now on without having to run to solve your problems, even if you never asked him to.

Jimin had eyes watching your every move, he clearly remembers how he put security cameras throughout the house, observing how you slept, what you did in the comfort of your room and privacy. Even when you walked into the shower and your hands ran over your body covered in water. Sometimes he felt guilty, for how he seemed to enjoy those moments that seemed so short.

However, it was repeated that as long as you were safe.

Breaking your trust wasn't that important.

Your eighteenth birthday was moderately quiet, Jimin was not used to throwing parties, and honestly, you never asked for one. So you just stood at the door of your house receiving expensive and cheap gifts from people who when they gave you the gift had a forced smile that told you many things. Most were familiar faces, of women who had previously sought a date with your father, obviously being rejected.

The little birthday cake looked so monotonous, the candles were the only thing you could stand out for. You were never aware that you had started to be privileged and extremely ambitious since Jimin proposed to your mother and forced her to marry him, pointing a gun at her pathetic silly little head. You had it all, and in your previous years maybe you managed to get excited about the new toys and accessories that were brought to you from other countries, you had everything that others did not, and a strange epiphany collapsed over you.

It was you, it was déjà vu. You were them, and those who were before, were now you.

You had all of them, and they didn't. Now, by your side, they were all poor. Jimin showered you with gifts, causing you to gradually lose interest in money. You remember your thoughts when it all started and likewise, you still remember the woman with the dirty shoes. You will be successful, you will make a lot of money. It was what you thought in the future for yourself, but now that was it, in a nutshell. Completely boring. You stayed for a moment thinking about them under the watchful eye of your stepfather who tried not to smile when you saw you, you were an adult now and he could finally take you as his own. They would be husband and wife, as it should have been from the beginning of its history.

And you will be able to marry someone you love. You still had only one option left, you blew out the candles with a single sigh causing Jimin to clap his hands and approach you to hug you fondly. The maids behind you only blushed when his boss started showing all of his affection. They weren't used to seeing him so often, Jimin had a firm and tough stance with everyone but he seemed to become as soft as clay in your presence. You came to mold Jimin in your favor, making him a cold person in front of his own demons and then, you left yours.

"I want marriage proposals, father." A gasp came from the mouths of the maids who just immediately fell silent. Lowering their head as they were taught. "I am ready to get married."

Jimin hummed still keeping his arms around you, your body was trapped in theirs. Your skin burned when his fingers squeezed your skin, leaving permanent marks. There was no reaction from you, you were used to this kind of unexpected treatment and it just didn't hurt.

"Get married?" His arms pulled away from you in disgust, there was no other reaction either. Jimin taught you not to object unless you knew you should. Stay calm and you will win. "And can you tell who would want to marry you? Useless little girl."

"Useless?" Your low voice seemed to make him happy for a moment.

Quickly his hands took the utensils to cut the cake, with a soft and sweet voice he continued: "Honey, men do not look for a girl with a lot of money like you. They look for someone to tame, and you, you could easily crush everyone with a wave of your hands."

A piece of the cake perfectly positioned on the plate was placed in front of you, a sob escaping your lips. You were really pathetic, eh? You clearly wanted to live something that has been claimed many times. You weren't going to get married, not without having it all like Jimin said. Then, you would lose everything and go back up to crush the others with greater pleasure.

"Aren't you going to eat? It's your cum-..."

"I will go to a neighboring town, I will finish my studies there."

Jimin looked down at his plate, ignoring how you got up from the table and put your cake aside. Then, your sweet voice finished destroying his self control that he thought he mastered long ago.

"I never liked that cake taste."

And it was the end.

You went back to the start again. You were planning to leave tonight, your bags were ready. Everything you needed was never in that house, it was never him. They were those that never existed in your present continued.

Your shoes did not seem to contrast with the dirt on the town's floor, you were also aware that those would end up in the trash. You didn't care, they were just shoes Jimin bought for your birthday, insignificant.

People were observant, and often foul-mouthed. It was no different than they spoke far from you or close to you, yet their mouths moved in a fussy way exaggerating reactions and creating new lies.

"_____...?" Your posture was decreasing, you no longer had to pretend. A smile covered your face, framing many emotions in one. "Come in please, it's your house."

Peter stepped aside, leaving room for you to enter. Your hands trembled but this time from cold, you still did not get over the harsh winter that suddenly passed. You took your shoes off quickly, briefly forgetting that this was no longer your home. You had sold the little cabin at a minimal price, and you were even happier when it was Peter who chose that place as his future home to live with his wife and his future child. Now he had two more. The little children ran in the tiny room playing with each other, a feeling of nostalgia invaded you when you saw them. You used to do the same before, together with your parents.

Those moments.

"Glad to see you around here, daughter." Peter hadn't changed, he was still the same kind and understanding person as ever. The opposite of you, of course. "Do you want to have tea? I heard on the streets that you would go to study far from here."

"Coffee, please." You responded still reluctant to talk about your departure.

Peter just laughed at your exaggerated denial, nodding and leading into the kitchen. You took a seat at the small table looking around. "You didn't change the decoration."

"Uh? ...." He seemed surprised by your observation, but he quickly smiled. "No. Actually, I think I liked it from the beginning how your ... er ... your mother decorated it. Besides, my wife loved it too. For her, it's beautiful as spring."

"Spring?" You ask, avoiding looking at it. You look down looking for some reason not to feel sad, in a way, you had compared your mother to spring as well. However, Jimin said that you were his. You never liked being called a light, because you always tried to be in your mother's shadow. And you liked it. "She believed that she is very wise, my mother was like spring."

"Thanks." A voice whispered from behind, your gaze fell on her and her face very much like your mother's. But they were obviously completely different. "I never doubted that you were just as wise. Spring represents the new beginning, a new beginning. Did you manage to find yours?"

Peter tried to intervene, clearly noticing the way his wife was trying to make you talk about your life after your mother died.

"I did. That's why I'm leaving here tonight."

"I'm glad we all need to be born again at some point."

You affirm with a small movement of the head, concentrating your gaze on the coffee cup in your hands. The smoke fell directly on your face hiding your grimace of disgust. Nobody deserves to talk about her like that yet.

"Ok, honey." Peter began by sitting across from you, with a cup of green tea and a serene expression. "Are you planning to go alone or with someone? I heard that travel today is very dangerous."

"Actually, I am accompanied by an acquaintance. His name is Jungkook, he also planned to leave and started working for me as a gardener to get the necessary money. We became good friends." You spoke remembering the adorable smile of the young man, he used to accompany you everywhere you went as if his job was to protect you. At first it was cute, but then it was annoying. Even after all that, you preferred to travel with him rather than alone.

"Oh that's very nice. I'm glad you managed to meet your goals. Good luck."

Your goals?

"Thanks, Peter."

His gaze lingered on your face for a moment, then he seemed to remember something very important. She gave you a smile before getting up to leave the kitchen.

"I have something for you, you are old enough to know this."

It was an envelope. Common and ordinary, but its envelope was beginning to deteriorate, showing that it was an old and very reserved letter.

You questioned your decision but took it, not wanting to read it in front of anyone even more when you read who wrote the letter.

You sat on the small wall, the trees and the cool breeze boosted your adrenaline. Small pieces of paper fell to the ground. So, you weren't thinking correctly at those times.

"I only married a man that I loved in all my life, I was happy. I had a daughter. I lived years of solitude and then, I was chained to an empty love."

"I know what you're reading this now. You're weak, darling. Maybe that's what made us mother and daughter. Because from the beginning I never had the courage to tell you that Jimin put a ring on my finger and a gun to my head. Or maybe, I was weak when I didn't get in the way of his errand, I should have told him that I hated him and that he could put a bullet in my head before giving it to my daughter. And maybe, I should have told everyone who passed by me that He was the same one who murdered my husband, he never left. I made you believe that. You never asked. "

"I saw you so happy today, you were running between the garden and the wedding. I could see his gaze following your hurried steps, I was almost completely sure that he was trying to get closer to you at all times. I told the woman next to me, But she shut me up saying that I can't be jealous of a father and daughter relationship. You weren't her daughter. She also ordered me to let them create a closer relationship, because I already had Park Jimin's heart in my hands. Liars."

"I always loved your curious voice. You used to ask me everything, and why everything was like that. But lately, I don't know what to answer. Why am I crying? Why is there a dark stain under my eyes? Why is there blood in the bathroom? Why did I never ask for help? I see you worry and you don't let me give you affection, because you prefer to give it to me. I also see how I start to bother him, I am a hindrance. Now I understand, I knew it but I never wanted to accept that it happened. He was everywhere, and likewise, I was never part of the plan."

"There were only two things I didn't tell you. I love you and my last piece of advice. Honey, lock it up and fly to the start, whenever you feel lost. A fresh start and never forget spring."

You stifled a sob. Covering up your pain. You had not noticed that the night had covered the sky, a dark blue blanket arrived. It took you a long time to assimilate that all the fragments were torn papers, and it was not a letter. It was an envelope filled with, apparently, incomplete sheets torn from a notebook. There was a fragment that was not part of the leaves, but rather was written later.

"Lost parts of a sad widow's diary.

Peter."

They were from your mother's diary. So where was the rest? What actually happened? A message came to your phone, you read it quickly still drying your tears.

JUNGKOOK:

Our trip is in an hour, I hope you said goodbye to everyone.

Received at 7:05 p.m.

I still do not:(

Received at 7:06 p.m.

Along with both messages was an attached picture, a photo of him and his grandmother. Jungkook talked a lot about her, and hers, her brothers. You smile, still wiping the tears from your face.

Your feet moved, the leaves in your hands seemed too heavy. And yet it was something you needed to do.

"Are you at home." His monotonous voice invaded you, he was busy reading a book that rested in his hand. The maid came over leaving a cup of coffee beside him, greeting your presence politely. "I have some things to discuss with you, darling."

"Me too, Jimin." It was the first time you had said his name without due respect, he seemed surprised for a moment. But his expression changed to one of happiness, as if he had been waiting for it. "I couldn't say goodbye, I'm leaving today. I think you already know that, though."

"Actually, no. But it's nice to hear it from you."

"I ..." Your voice dried in your throat, a giant doubt fell over you. You didn't want to leave without telling him how much you hated everything about him. His attention, his affection, his smile, his gaze, his voice. Everything about him was disgustingly charming. "I think I'll go get my bags."

Jimin nodded, ignoring your presence. Still distracted with reading him.

"Before you go, can you give me that back, darling?" Your gaze followed where he pointed his finger. Your hand. The leaves were still there.

"It's something of mine-..."

"Oh I don't think so. It really is very easy to threaten someone, just suffice to say that you can put a bullet in their head to make them your obedient little puppets."

"I do not understand your..."

"Me? It was obviously me. I'm surprised you thought your mother would be smart enough to leave a confession letter to her ex-lovers, days before her death. You really had a lot of credit for her." His chatter was accompanied by a laugh. You were paralyzed, shaking in your useless state of shock. "But I will not say that I did not plan, I hoped that you would never have the courage to try to leave my side. And even if that were the case, I knew that you would say goodbye to the only person who reminded you of her. Peter, she has a family. lovely."

Nor did he expect you to have the courage to cheat on him with another man. Oh, the gardener. Poor Jungkook, his body now rested leaving behind your favorite flowers. Jimin bit his lip, another mocking smile peeking out with intensity remembering the cutthroat figure of the innocent but guilty young man.

You were his...

"How can you be so cruel?" The doubt in you seemed to want to keep growing, passing second by second through your head. You weren't sure you could understand that everything that happened in front of you was actually planned by the same person who swore never to leave you alone. The same man who disguised himself as a sheep so he could eat you like a wolf. "Did you kill my mother ?!" Jimin seemed surprised by your desperate tone, he did not expect to be able to unbalance your state so easily.

It was lovely. Certainly.

"No sweetie." He murmured closing the book in his hands, setting it on the table next to the steaming cup of American coffee. "But it would have been exquisite to be the reason for his pain. Unfortunately, it was your father who won that title."

"Where did you get this from? I know she wrote it, and I also know that she would never give it to you knowing what a monster you are." Tears were running down your cheeks like water, you knew you were a mess but Jimin seemed to look at you like you were a perfect work of art.

"I found it." He spoke casually, getting up from his seat. Walking slowly towards your trembling figure. "It was a coincidence, I like casual things. It was a coincidence that you studied at that school, that your mother was a widow, that your father died. That he will make me fall in love with you."

What is your goal now?

"I love you darling."

Escape from the monster.

#yandere bts #bts yandere #bts #yandere!bts #yandere bts au #yandere kpop #Yandere #kpop yandere #kpop #kpop smut #bts smut #bts x reader #jimin x reader #yandere jimin x reader #jimin yandere #jimin x you #park jimin #yandere!jimin #jimin smut

202 notes · View notes

inknopewetrust · 3 years

Text

A Little Chaos

Summary: A thief finds herself at the center of the kidnapping of two girls and has the attention one very attractive detective.

Pairing: Detective Loki x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: Criminal activity, flirting, sexual references, brief choking, probably 16+ based on content but no explicit smut. A mention of pedophilia but nowhere near in detail.

A/N: I don't think I've ever written something like this and can I just say that I really loved it!? So, I really hope you all do too! Requests are currently CLOSED but I hope to open them soon again and with new characters to add to my list. Check out my Masterlist for all other works. Thanks so much for requesting this @mrs-blooooom! I just loved the idea so much and thanks for being so kind about all the delays!

One - pick the lock

Two - lift up the screen and frame as quietly as possible but make absolutely no rough work of it.

Three - slip on the shoe covers and assess the gloves before entering through the window.

Four - get to work.

That was always the structure, no questions asked. Though, you noticed the news beginning to trace your patterns. You had made a hit in another neighborhood two weeks ago and because the news began reporting the patters, you were sure the police weren’t far behind.

And perhaps on that particular Thanksgiving, you shouldn’t have done another–or picked that house, rather.

Detective David Loki had a million different things running through his mind on a daily basis. When a case such as the Dover-Birch one stuck itself in the middle of an already pending investigation of burglaries in the Conyer’s area, he had a hunch of who he would investigate first. But he couldn’t get to that immediately because Keller Dover convinced him and his superiors that the RV belonging to Alex Jones was the first and only way to go.

But even after interrogating the man who had a child-like innocence to him, David Loki was convinced there was something more to the story. There had to have been a connection to who burglarized the Dover’s that same night and where the girls could be... he was certain, but then he wasn’t because he wasn’t sure you were the kind of person who would kidnap two innocent girls.

On a particularly slow Tuesday, no new leads had come in and the investigation had stalled because Alex Jones had now gone missing without a trace. Although he was doing everything he could, Loki was far from finding a solution and decided to take the initiative into his own hands and dive into the file he had been working on for nearly five months–the one into you and your less-than-stellar activities. The post-it note sticking out of the side of the manilla folder contained an address to an apartment in the center of town. He plucked it out, tucked it into his pocket and walked straight out of the station.

You weren’t worried about being considered a suspect in the kidnapping of two girls. You had no connection to the Dover’s, Birches’, or the Jones’, as well as no connection to the scene of the crime. You were always careful, and the Dover’s had no security cameras. So, when your comm buzzed in the middle of the day, you weren’t expecting it to be the police.

“Hello?”

“Ms. L/n? This is Detective Loki with the Conyer’s Police Department. I have a few questions I would like to ask you.” The voice was cackled with the circuited communication buzzer but you heard the man loud and clear. You also knew exactly who that was.

Detective David Loki was an infamous creature of Conyers. One day he just seemed to sprout out of nowhere and into the public sphere, but you had known him for a while. You were never friends, and you were sure until now he didn’t even know your name, but he was the star pupil of the town. And the spotlight he was in, he absolutely hated it. Every time his picture appeared in the paper or when he had to speak on the television relayed that message and you laughed in pity. The poor man just wanted to do his job and that was one part he didn’t sign up for.

“Can I ask what this is regarding?”

“The investigation into Joy Birch and Anna Dover. I just have a few questions I’d like to ask you if you would step-”

“I’ll buzz you up.” You pressed the button and unlocked the door, opening it just enough for you to rest on the frame with one arm on the door and the other on your hip.

Another thing you knew about Detective David Loki was that he was one of the most attractive people you had ever laid eyes on. The man was a walking dream but unfortunately, on the other side of the law which was far from promising when it came to your vivid imagination.

“How nice of you to not barge into my home, Detective.” You called out to him as he appeared on the steps landing just down the hall from your door. Loki gave no smile but shoved an orange post-it into his jacket as he shoved his hands into his pockets.

“This surely won’t take long.”

With a nod you moved away from the door, shutting it closed behind you. With the sudden and unexpected presence of this man who was a fine line between formal detective and loose cop, there was an urge to be exactly the opposite of what he wanted you to be. He had been trailing you for just enough time to learn patterns in your life, the people you associate with, the fact that you had a degree and a decent job. You had an apartment to call your own, a car that wasn’t stolen and yet you continued to break into people's homes and steal curious objects for what? Consignment sales? He wasn’t sure. But you weren’t going to give him the answers he was looking for. You enjoyed the life you built for yourself...even if you had to steal and sell things to arrive at ends meet to pay for everything in your life.

“So... what can I do for you?”

“Can you recall where and what you were going on the night of Thursday, November 28th?”

“Thanksgiving?” You asked with a raised brow and he nodded. Loki pulled out no notebook to take notes, rather he watched every movement. He was trying to identify guilt, but you were a casual sleuth. It wasn’t a game he was used to because all of his suspects eventually gave in.

“I got up around 8:30, maybe 9 and ate some breakfast, um I-” You took a seat on the arm of your couch, running a hand over your mouth trying to “remember” what exactly you were doing a few days ago.

“-took a shower and then got started on my dish to pass at my parents dinner. I made sweet potatoes and stuffing-or dressing... I don’t know what you call it.” Loki was far from amused that you were making this appear less than serious. He couldn’t let himself believe that you were stupid enough to believe he wasn’t there on behalf of the story that captured the attention of the entire nation, so he didn’t believe a word you said.

“When that was done I got ready, did my makeup, and headed out to my parents where my sister and her family were meeting us to have dinner. Then I left their house around 7-ish and came home.”

“After dinner you went straight home?”

“Yes.”

You looked at him with an unfazed gaze which he met but didn’t buy. It was a game. A cat and mouse game that he wasn’t willing to bite into but it was too late, you already had him on a string. Loki would be lying if he didn’t find you attractive, even in the slightest. You were a beautiful woman, and it was because of how you looked that you’ve never been caught. You always covered every inch of your body and you looked unassuming. You had a perfectly pristine house, looked like someone who didn’t need to steal to live but then again, most of the time, all the people who do steal never look like they would because that is what people are taught not to look for.

“I made some phone calls late last week and someone in your family spilled that you weren’t there. In fact, you haven’t been to a family holiday since you graduated college nearly ten years ago. Bad relationship?”

“I can assure you–whoever you talked to, they weren’t there. I was there. I can tell you what I wore, what I ate, what was on the T.V. and what color shoe my nephew was wearing that day.”

“Those could just be good guesses?” Loki let his eyes wander around the small living space. He looked at the picture frames, the vases, the bins, the T.V. stand, everything that could have screamed “out of place” to him but nothing did.

“You didn’t happen to pass two little girls on your drive home, did you?”

“Excuse me?”

“Two girls. I’m sure you’ve seen their picture on the news.” Loki pointed to the T.V. at first but then dug into his pocket and pulled out a single picture of two girls photographed on a playground. They were smiling widely and happily at the person behind the camera. You had never seen the girls so you shook your head no and crossed your arms.

“No. I’ve never seen them before. Am I supposed to?”

“I don’t know, are you?”

“What are you implying, detective?”

“Do you know the house you broke into on Thursday, November 28th was the home of Anna Dover. Anna and her friend Joy went missing that same night after returning to the Dover residence to find a whistle. You were inside the home at the time we believe the girls went missing. So, tell me–do you know where the girls are?” Loki was zoned in accusation. The man was unwavering in his tone or his assumption and you would say it was scary if you didn’t find it attractive. Why, God WHY, did the detective working on this case have to be everything you looked for in a man? It would be so much easier if he were old and wrinkled but he was far far from it.

“Detective, if I would have known you would come into my home and accuse me of kidnapping two innocent girls, I wouldn’t have answered the ring.”

“Where are the two girls? Do you know where they are?”

“No. I told you I didn’t take the girls.”

“But you were in the house? Did you see the girls?”

“I didn’t say that either.”

“What if I told you that you were a sloppy thief?”

“Excuse me?” You furrowed your brows in confusion. You were certain that you were not. There was never a time where you left as much as a trace of hair in a location that you hit.

“The bin.” Loki walked over to the T.V. stand that had three white bins tucked into slots. The bins were generally filled with junk except for one thing that the Dover’s told him went missing yesterday afternoon. A medium size blue decorative pot with yellow flowers on its sides. It was meant for shallow flowers as a table center piece that was gifted to Keller and Grace on their wedding day. Grace was distraught over it and it was sitting the left-most bin under the television. Loki pulled open the drawer and carefully took out the pot and you looked at it with a shrug.

“Where did you get this?”

“My mother.”

“I thought I told you that they told me you haven’t spoken to them in a decade?”

“Well I obviously spoke to them before that.”

“I am going to ask you again and I want an honest answer. Where did you get this pot?”

What were you supposed to do? The man literally cracked the code. If only you hadn’t chosen that house. Oh! How much easier your life would be.

“I plead the fifth.” Oh, fuck.

Loki set the pot carefully down and pulled a pair of handcuffs from his belt. It would have been hot if you weren’t terrified of what came next. Then you made an ill-timed joke.

“You’re not pulling those out for another reason are you?” You didn’t even laugh yourself because he simply ignored it and motioned for you to stand and turn around.

“I am going to take you to the station and we will talk more there. Stand up, turn around, and give me your hands.”

“I already told you I don’t know where the girls are.” Ignored again but the feeling of him pushing your shoulder with his hand and taking your wrist was something you wished you would stop replaying in your mind.

“You have the right to remain silent. Anything-”

The Conyer’s Police Station was wimpy compared to other cities. It was a small, single story brick building with three holding rooms and one interrogation room. You weren’t sure how long you sat in the holding cell, but it was nighttime by the time you were taken out of the room by another officer and into a brightly lit, slightly yellowed room with a mirrored window and a small desk with two chairs. There was a pencil and a pad of paper at the center of it but you were sure if it was going to be Detective Loki interrogating you, he wouldn’t need it.

The officer uncuffed you with no words spoken and pointed at the chair facing the window. You rubbed your wrists from the friction the metal left before taking a seat and staring into the glass where your reflection met your own. You had nothing to do with the two missing girls so you had nothing to give them, or rather, nothing to give Loki to further his investigation.

The man of the hour waltzed into the room a mere five minutes after you were sat down. He had a half-drank cup of coffee in one hand and a small grouping of papers in the other. Loki sat down, settling himself before looking up at you and beginning the interrogation.

“Please state your name, age, and address.”

You recited the information as told.

“How many homes a year do you burglarize?" Loki opened a file that was tucked under some papers with a series of pictures printed on a piece of computer paper. It was amalgamation of missing objects from families around Conyers. You were fucked, but you couldn't let him think that, or at least believe that you were guilty in anyway. Your stealing wasn't going to find those girls because you had no idea where in the world they were. You had never seen them before their faces were plastered on every hour of the news.

"Shouldn't my lawyer be here if you are going to accuse me of something?"

"Do you need a lawyer?"

"Do I, Detective?"

It was the attitude that angered him the most. A woman like you didn't need to steal. Based on your records, he had no reason to truly believe you would. Clean record. No screaming signs of intent or distrust popped out but he knew you were guilty. There was not a doubt. But there was something in that attitude that made him squirm. An attractive quality that he did not want to admit.

"If you answer the questions I ask truthfully, then no, you won't need a lawyer."

"Ask away." You leaned back in the chair with arms crossed and a determined narrowness to your eyes. It was a challenge. Try me, Detective. Do it, I dare you.

"When did you first start stealing?"

"When I was seven. My sister always had better stuff, so I took it."

"And that escalated to...what?" Instead of leaning back on his own chair, Loki leaned forward. His shoulders were hunched in an aggressive, intense tactic to scare you into admitting something that you didn't have any part of. He just wanted to find those girls and you happen to be a speed bump in the way.

"Minor petty theft. I never take anything over $500."

"How do you know what something is worth?"

"I'm sure you can find that in my file, Detective. Everything is there I am sure of it. You all know just how to frame the people you want. But I had nothing to do with those girls."

Loki's line of aggravation was growing thin. Sooner or later, attitude wasn't going to cut it and he was going to have to use the tactics he used on Alex Jones and other potential perpetrators on you. He never liked to get outright violent with women, but he couldn't let this go without trying to get something. The days were wearing thin and he needed to find Joy and Anna.

"You were in the Dover's house the night of the abduction. Where are the girls?"

"I told you I didn't have anything to do with that."

"Didn't or don't."

"Doesn't matter. I did not see them. I do not know where they are. Ruining children's lives isn't my MO, Detective-"

"But you do and you did! YOU were in that house. YOU were at the scene of the crime at the time they went missing. YOU are the one who knows what happened to those girls!" His voice was no longer steady and calm as he had been taught during his training. His string had snapped when in response, you laughed.

Loki flew out of his chair, rounded the table as the sound of his chair skidded across the floor and to the wall behind him. If you weren't so focused on him, you probably could have heard the surprised yells of the Detectives and Officers behind the mirror. The angered Detective roughly arrived at his destination–you, and grabbed the back of your hair, pulling your head back to look at him as he stood over you.

"Where the fuck are the girls?" It came out like a hiss. His eyes enraged with pain for the families and his own reputation if the case goes wrong and he doesn't find them in enough time. You weren't scared of him or his tactics. Rather, it was quite the opposite. If he wasn't attractive, you would have been disgusted but the man was the epitome of perfection and this scene would be one to get you off for years to come.

"I told you, I don't know where the girls are." He gripped your hair harder and you felt the chair waver underneath you. Still not scared.

"You're a liar, a fucking thief, and I don't believe you. Where are the girls? Do you like that sort of thing, huh? Do-"

"You sick fuck. I'm a thief not a fucking pedophile. I didn't take the girls!" You were slightly taken aback by his suggestion, but it was all a tactic. You had seen it on millions of police shows before. He just wanted answers, but he wasn't going to find them with you. Whatever in the sentence you had just spoken to him, Loki was worse off for it. He practically lifted you by the hair and charged you into the wall roughly. Not enough to leave a mark, but enough to make a point. He wasn't playing around but neither were you.

Loki's hand let go of your hair and one found itself on the wall next to your head as he closed in on you. You could feel his breathe on your face and his eyes pierced your goddamned soul. The other, well the other found itself right on your neck, holding you in place against the wall with a slight squeeze. Holy fuck.

"Keep this up Detective and I would have the means to believe this might lead to something else." The smile, your smile crept up on your face at your own assumption. You wouldn't complain if it did escalate to that.

"TELL ME WHERE THE GIRLS ARE? WHERE IS ANNA? WHERE IS JOY?"

"I told you I DON'T KNOW WHERE THE GIRLS ARE!"

There was something in your own anger that made him want to believe you didn't take the girls or had any clue where they were. He would hate to see a woman like you throw your life away for a career of crime. The proximity between the two of you was next to none. A knife wouldn't have been able to break the tension and the way he held you, unintentionally violent with a hand just a little too suggestively on your neck was a mistake but not one that he was readily going to admit. If this was any other situation, he might have let himself be willing to feel something more. But this was an interrogation, so he kept the face and squeezed just a little harder.

"Where are they? Tell me where they are?"

"Starting to sound like a broken record there. I would tell you again but I'm sure you have my admission of NOT KNOWING WHERE THEY ARE ON TAPE!"

Loki had enough and let your neck go with a jolt. His hands went to his belt where his cuffs were sitting and he pulled them out and turned you around. Your body was flush against the wall and one of his large, tattooed hands held your wrists together as he went to cuff them. This was another thing that would forever be engrained in your "sexy when it shouldn't be" file in your brain.

"Fine. You won't tell me where they are? Maybe a night in lock up will make you think." His voice was low, just at the base of your ear and his hot breath lingered on your neck as you could hear nothing but your heart beating out of your chest and the sound of cuffs closing.

But the man didn't get much further than that because the door to the room opened and like two deer in headlights, you both turned your heads to the sound of the intruder. It was another officer who looked both scared and amused and slightly embarrassed in regard to what he walked in on. He approached Loki as the latter man pulled you off the wall and forward, in front of him to walk toward the door.

"It was the hospital. Joy Birch was just admitted."

The look on Loki's face was priceless. You literally scoffed out loud and turned your face to his.

"I told you I had no fucking idea where they were."

Loki simply passed you over to the other officer and headed to the door, frustrated and confused about his own work and internal feelings about what had just happened–both the realization that you had no idea where they were and that he had been aggressive to the point where it kind of turned him on.

"Detective!" He was halfway out the door when you called out to him and if he had a mind, he would have ignored you and continued on, but he was so flustered that he did.

"If you ever want to use those cuffs sometime, you know where to find me."

Loki didn't say anything, but his eyes wandered. From your face to your body to the floor and back up. It was an unashamed look that made the officer uncomfortable, but you couldn't help but let a small, sly smile grace your face at his look. This man would be the end of your criminal career if he managed to find the time to reunite with you again.

And he did. Two days after Keller Dover was found in a hole and on a holiday he knew you were not going to spend with your family.

#Detective Loki x Reader #Detective Loki x Female Reader #Prisoners #Prisoners 2013 #Jake Gyllenhaal x oc #Jake Gyllenhaal x Reader #David Loki x reader #David Loki x Female Reader #Detective Loki x fem reader #Detective Loki #fanfic #writer #x reader #x female reader #i imagine after the christmas trist reader does in fact serve time for theft. but we ignore that for now.

327 notes · View notes

thirstyforcharacters · 3 years

Text

Tequila (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

Summary: Every person has a soulmate. When your soulmate experiences pain, so do you, and any bruises, scars, or other markings that they get appear on your skin. Or, the story of how aliens attacking Las Vegas was the best thing to ever happen to you.

Notes: Hello! I already did a very similar soulmate AU for Sam Wilson (which you can read here), but I love soulmate AU’s so much that I decided to do one for Bucky, too! Hopefully, I made them different enough that they don’t seem too repetitive. Did I write this while I was supposed to be watching a documentary on Bach for music history? Maybe. But I think this was a much better use of my time. Hope you enjoy! (no y/n, no pronouns)

Warnings: canon typical violence, alien invasion, blood (not too much tho), car crash

WC: 1.9 k

For all of your life, you couldn’t feel your left arm.

When you started to crawl, your parents noticed you only used your right arm to pull yourself forward while your left would hang limply at your side. Your parents brought you to the doctor, deeply concerned, but when she examined your arm, she found nothing wrong. No x-rays showed broken or deformed bones, and no MRI’s showed any problems in the brain. By all medical standards, you should be able to move your left arm. You just couldn’t. Everyone hoped that it would go away, but to their chagrin, it remained unmoving throughout your childhood. You obviously knew your arm was there since you could clearly see it, but you couldn’t feel the nerve endings inside it. When you poked your arm with your other finger, you felt absolutely nothing. And weirdly enough, your family said it was always cold to the touch, no matter how warm the rest of your body was.

You had a feeling that it had something to do with your soulmate, and when you reached adulthood (specifically around 24), you were almost positive that was the reason. You often woke up with random injuries that you knew you didn’t give yourself. Gunshot wounds, deep slashes, broken bones, and large bruises were commonly branded on your skin. You were positive that if your soulmate was getting shot at every other night, then they almost definitely had some sort of damage done to their arm that affected your own. But if they had had this condition since you were born, how old were they? That was always a question that kind of weirded you out. You didn’t particularly want to be “meant to be” with some wrinkly, old person! Especially if they were somehow getting themselves into this much trouble. And now that you thought about it, none of these injuries were on your (or their) left arm. How could that be if they’ve literally been hurt everywhere else on their body?

When you weren’t in and out of the hospital with randomly serious injuries, you were quite busy cooking up a storm in Turkey, Tacos, and Tequila, your restaurant in Las Vegas. You and your best friend, Nicolás, had opened it three years ago; you were the head chef and he ran the business side of things. The two of you had talked about opening a restaurant together since you were teenagers, so both of you had moved to Vegas together after college/culinary school. Together, you found that you were an unstoppable team, and within a year of opening, you were one of the most popular restaurants throughout all of Vegas! Most times, because you were so busy, your soulmate problem stayed in the back of your mind. But every once in a while, a bruise would appear on your eye or a large cut down the length of your leg, and you would be reminded again.

Nic, as you called him, already found his soulmate. Oliver had moved in with you a year ago, and joined you side by side in the kitchen. You became almost as close with him as you had with Nic. They were adorable together, and never made you feel like the third wheel. There were some times, though, where you found yourself a little bit jealous that they had found each other so quickly, and that neither of them had ever suddenly started bleeding all over a nearly complete order of mango fish tacos.

Whenever you got a little down about it, Nic would always clap you on the shoulder and say, “You’ll find them someday. And when you do, break their nose. They deserve it for the hell they’re accidentally putting you through.”

It never failed to make you laugh. You had half a mind to do just that when you met the love of your life. You just didn’t know when that would be.

On yet another hot and dry Nevada night, you were closing up at the restaurant (or morning, you supposed, since it was nearly 1 am). Nic, Oliver, and your other employees had gone home already, so it was only you that remained. You turned off the lights and locked the door. You pushed your way through the drunken crowds and tourists on the street and made your way to your car. As you were opening the door, you could hear gasps of shock coming from the crowd of people roaming the streets. You looked up and saw an eerie flash of green across the sky, and a strange-looking, portal appeared in the sky! Shrieks of fear permeated the air as grotesque, reptilian creatures began spilling from the portal.

Frantically, you flung yourself into your car and turned over the engine, hoping to escape the clutches of these aliens. Though your apartment was in the opposite direction of the portal, as per usual, there was a decent amount of traffic, so you weren’t sure how good your chances were. But you figured you’d at least be safer in your car than exposed outside of it.

You were able to pull into traffic and weave through it fairly well, making good use of the side streets that only the locals knew about. But the creatures were overtaking the city faster than you could drive. You knew you didn’t have long before they caught up with you.

Just when that thought popped into your head, a blinding flash of light appeared in your rearview mirror. A loud bang, almost like a cannon, sounded, and through your mirror, you saw a truck hurtling toward you at breakneck speed! You attempted to swerve out of the way, but the truck crashed into your car, shoving it against a street light! The driver’s side of your car crumpled against the lamppost, and the glass in your window shattered at the contact. You attempted to cover your face with your hands, but a piece of glass still managed to make a pretty deep cut above your left eye, as well as a few pieces of shrapnel sinking into your legs. The whiplash from the contact damaged your neck as well; pain spread throughout your neck and back. All you could do was sob in agony. You had never felt this much pain in your life.

Your hand was trembling as you unbuckled your seatbelt, but you found yourself unable to leave your car! The driver’s side door was crushed, the truck was smushed against your passenger door, and there was no way you would be able to climb out of the backseat, nor lift yourself out of the broken window with the injuries you sustained. You were trapped. You waited for a little bit, until some of the chaos surrounding you died down; even in your damaged state, you knew that no one would be able to hear you even if you screamed for help as loudly as you could.

You strained your ears, and were able to hear gunfire, commands being shouted, and the hissing of these reptilian creatures. Eventually, instead of the noise of a battle, you could hear voices trying to dig people out of the rubble. Somehow, they sounded familiar, but you couldn’t place how. Well, if they were rescuing people, you figured they were your only chance.

“Help,” you screamed, “I’m trapped in my car! Please help me!”

You heard footsteps sprinting in your direction and a voice call, “Don’t worry, we’ll get you out of there!”

You watched in amazement as the truck on your passenger’s side was surrounded by a glowing, red presence, and moved out of the way! It had to be the Avengers! Who else would be able to do something that crazy? You were brought out of your thoughts by your car being dragged away from the pole, making you jump. A face popped up in your shattered window. He was gorgeous; bright, blue eyes, short, chestnut hair, and a warm smile. He took hold of the broken door and wrenched it from its fastenings.

“Hi. My name is Bucky Barnes. This is Wanda Maximoff,” the man said, gesturing back to a woman wearing scarlet, “we’re going to get you out of here, okay?”

“Okay,” you replied, relieved, “thank you so much!”

He smiled again, “Oh, it’s no problem. You should probably stay there until the EMT’s get here. Moving might make your injuries even worse.”

You nodded slightly in reply, but the pull in your neck made you groan in pain.

He winced, “Try not to move that, either. You may not be bleeding there, but I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

“Okay.”

“Here, let me help you with that. I can at least stop the bleeding,” he offered, gesturing to your forehead and leg.

“Oh, thank you!” you answered.

He nodded and reached for some bandages he had in his jacket with his metal arm. His left arm. Suddenly, you noticed things you didn’t notice before. He also had a large cut above his left eye, in the same spot as your injury. It wasn’t bleeding, though, perhaps because of his enhancements. You noticed him moving his neck in a circular motion, seemingly to stretch it out. He had holes in his pants and small puncture wounds on his legs, in the same spots where glass was sticking out of you. Again, though, they were already healing. Could that be why you had never felt your arm before? Because your soulmate’s was metal? It would make complete sense.

“Are you okay?”

You didn’t even realize you had zoned out until Bucky addressed you. He was gently cleaning the wound on your forehead.

“Yes,” you whispered, fixated on the wound on his forehead.

His eyebrow raised, “Are you sure? You seem a little out of it.”

“I-I’m fine. I just noticed something kind of strange. I think the cut on your forehead matches mine.”

He touched his forehead, “Oh, yeah, I forgot about that with the adrenaline and everything. Only got it maybe 20 minutes ago.”

“That’s when my car crashed. And you’re having neck pain, like me,” you murmured, “and your arm is metal. I’ve never been able to feel my arm.”

His eyes widened, “Really? You think we’re meant to be?”

“Maybe,” you replied.

He nodded, “It seems likely. What’s your name?”

You gave him your name and he smiled again.

“I’ve been waiting for this for a century.”

You giggled softly, “I guess that explains why I’ve been experiencing this since I was born. I was afraid you’d be gross and wrinkly.”

He chuckled, “Well, hopefully you don’t think I’m either of those things.”

“Definitely not.”

The EMT’s arrived then. Bucky stepped aside and the medics removed you from your car.

As you were being loaded into the ambulance, Bucky approached you.

“How can I get in contact with you after this?”

“Just come by Turkey, Tacos, and Tequila. It’s my restaurant, I’m almost always there,” you told him.

“Okay. I’ll drop by sometime soon, when you’re better of course.”

“Looking forward to it.”

“Me too.”

As he was walking away, you couldn’t stop the grin forming on your lips. Sure, what had happened to you today was terrible. But you knew you would heal, and now, you had also finally met your soulmate. No wonder why you were randomly injured all of the time! If today was any indicator of what the rest of your relationship would look like, though, you’d probably need all of that tequila you were selling for yourself.

#bucky barnes #winter soldier #marvel #mcu #Bucky barnes x reader #winter soldier x reader #Bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fanfiction #Bucky barnes fic #winter soldier fluff #winter soldier fanfiction #winter soldier fic #x reader #x reader fanfiction #x reader fic #x reader fluff #soulmate au

222 notes · View notes

anabsolutetrainwreck · 3 years

Text

i get so lost inside your eyes || h. styles

warnings: mentions of a break up, swearing, kissing, mentions of alcohol

word count: 1.5k

summary: you and harry are alone on valentine’s day, so decide to spend it together...

“I brought wine!” Harry smiled, showing you the bottle he’d bought on the way to your home.

“My hero,” you joked, opening your front door wider to let Harry in.

“And I got you flowers,” he shrugged, his cheeks coated in a light tinge of red.

You smiled, “Why did you do that?”

“Just felt like it. You deserve them anyway,” he sighed, passing them to you.

“Well, thank you, Harry,” you grinned.

You took the wine and flowers from him, taking them through to the kitchen. He shrugged his coat off and head through to the living room. It was dark outside, the sun having set two or three hours prior to Harry’s arrival.

You’d know Harry for a long time. Nearly seven years. And you’d been good friends for that time, enjoying one another’s company perhaps too much. He’d been there for you when it felt like nobody else was. Harry had seen some of your ugliest moments and his adoration for you had never faltered.

Due to you both being single, you’d made the mutual decision to spend Valentine’s Day together. Spending the evening together, binging cheesy romcoms and crying over fictional characters’ love lives, sounded like the perfect way to spend Valentine’s Day to you. And evidently to Harry too, for he was, sat on your couch, flicking through Netflix.

You placed the two wine glasses down on your coffee table, pouring the bottle out between them. You sat in silence as the title sequence of Harry’s selected movie rolled, taking occasional sips of the wine. “How’s Valentine’s Day being single then?” he asked suddenly. “You know, since you and Peter broke up.”

“Thanks for reminding me of that,” you joked. “Just what I wanted to hear today.”

His eyes widening, realising how rude his question was, “Oh, Y/N, I’m-“

You chuckled, “Harry, it’s fine. I was kidding.”

“Oh, right,” he laughed. “Obviously. Are you looking for anyone right now?”

Your throat suddenly became very dry. You were in the midst of trying to suppress your feelings for Harry before looking for anything serious with somebody else. After you and Peter had broken up, you had assigned yourself a ‘no guys’ rule, in which you’d stay away from dating altogether for at least six months.

But then you began to see Harry under a different lens. You’d always found him attractive and you were never to deny the fact that Harry was good-looking, even before you first met him. But you’d never seen him under a romantic light. And then you began to, and it made hanging out with him feel completely different. You were hyper-aware of everything he did and you picked up on the small things he did. It became exhausting.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you forced a shrug, “Not really. No point forcing something with somebody when I’m not in any rush to be in a relationship.”

“Oh… fair enough,” he nodded, his eyebrows knitted together slightly. “Yeah, why force it?”

He prayed you hadn’t picked up on his slight shift in mood. The awkwardness and the slightly disheartened tone. But you had. You weren’t going to mention it though; it would be mean to put him on the spot like that. So, instead, the two of you stayed silent as you watched the movie.

About an hour and a half later, the credits rolled. You yawned, stretching your legs slightly, they were dead from the position you’d had them in for the duration of the movie. “I’ve got ice cream, come and tell me about yourself,” you said, getting up to fetch the tub of vanilla ice cream from the freezer.

He followed, beginning to talk about how the band were and how writing was going. You nodded along, genuinely interested in how his music career was going, as you fished out some spoons. The pair of you sat down at the kitchen island, sharing the tub of ice cream as he told you about the many love songs he was writing. He’d tell you about a date he went on, which inspired this song, and a crush he had, which inspired that song. And, though hard for you to listen to, you still nodded along eagerly, wishing he wouldn’t notice the frown that was playing on your lips. “How’s Gemma?” you asked, hoping you didn’t seem desperate to change the topic of conversation.

He shrugged, “She’s good. She was actually asking how you were today, I was on the phone with her.”

“Oh,” you smiled. You adored Gemma. “That’s kind of her. Tell her that her podcast has been keeping me sane.”

“She’ll be glad to hear that,” he chuckled. “Have you still got that piano?”

It was a random question and it took you by surprise slightly. It was so off-topic. You nodded. He smiled, “Can I teach you one of my songs?”

You grinned, “If you’d like.”

Playing the piano was something your parents had forced you to do when you were a child. And, it wasn’t that you didn’t enjoy it, you certainly did now that you were an adult, but it was never something you were necessarily passionate about. Not like Harry was about music anyway. It was more of a hobby for whenever you could make time to play now.

You followed him through to the dining room, deciding the empty tub of ice cream could wait until later to clear away. He sat himself down on the stool, patting the space beside him. “Come on, Y/N,” he laughed at your hesitancy.

Sitting down beside him, you felt your cheeks suddenly heat up. Your thigh was pressed against his, your arms grazing slightly. And you realised, as he was playing one of his songs, his eyes flicking between the keys and you, how intimate this really was. You felt like you were in school again, getting incredibly too nervous whenever you were partnered up with whoever you were crushing in at the time. “See, it’s just like this,” he said, playing it slower.

You nodded, “Kudos to Charlotte for remembering all of this.”

“I remember it too!” he said, acting as if the compliment you’d just offered Charlotte was the most offensive thing anybody had ever said to him.

You stifled a laugh, “Yeah, but you don’t play it in front of thousands of people. God, you’re such a drama queen.”

He shrugged, “What can I say? That’s showbiz, baby.”

You felt ready to pass out. He’d just called you ‘baby’, and though you knew it was part of the saying, it still felt weird to have him direct the name at you. You laughed anyway, trying to act as normal as possible. “If you say so,” you smiled.

“Right, now you try,” he said, taking your hand and placing it on the keys.

“Harry, it’ll sound terrible,” you sighed.

“Just give it a go,” he smiled supportively at you, staring into your eyes. “You’re great at everything anyway.”

You scoffed, “Well, that’s just a blatant lie. Play it again. I’ve only seen you do it once.”

He nodded, repeating what he’d played before. You took note of the notes, lodging them into your brain somewhere. Besides, it was only the intro of the song. And so, you gave it a shot and it sounded somewhat decent. That was until you noticed Harry staring at you out of the corner of your eye. This completely ruined your concentration and you managed to absolutely butcher the beforehand beautiful tune. “Shit, sorry,” you said quickly.

“Don’t apologise, you’ve got nothing to be sorry for,” he said softly. “It was great for a first attempt.”

You turned to look at him, only then noticing how dangerously close your faces were. It was a tight squeeze on the piano stool as it was, but now it was forcing your faces inches apart. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered.

You expected him to suddenly recoil, realising what he’d just said and apologise. But he didn’t. He sat silently as if waiting for you to say something back. “Can I kiss you?” he asked before you had the chance to return the compliment or thank him for it.

You nodded, “Please.”

And he did. And it was wonderful. Better than anything you’d dreamt up inside your head. His hand on your cheek, the other on your thigh, you felt safe with Harry. This kiss with Harry felt more natural than anything else you’d shared with previous partners. As he pulled away, he grinned, eyes fluttering up and down your face. “Sorry,” he said quietly as if he was second-guessing the perfect moment of intimacy you’d just shared.

“Don’t apologise, you’ve got nothing to be sorry for,” you repeated his earlier words, earning yourself a grin from Harry and another peck on the lips.

He smirked slightly, “Do you want to maybe end Valentine’s Day with a boyfriend?”

“Is that an offer, Harry?” you grinned.

“Perhaps it is, yes.”

“Then I might just take you up on it.”

#harry fanfic #harry fanfiction #harry imagine #harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry x you #harry x reader #harry x y/n #harry styles imagines #harry imagines

249 notes · View notes