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griffintail · 4 years ago

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A Day in the Life (Lost Ones)

Summary: A day with the new parents and how some of their friends reaction to their new bit of joy.

Pairings: Platonic! Parental! Tommy, Wilbur, Philza, Technoblade, Eret, and Dream x F! Child! Reader

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Warnings : (In Phil’s Specifically) Death, Violence. (Generally) Swearing

A/N: Just so you know (F/L) means First Letter of your first name. Hope you guys enjoy! ♥

Tommy

Tommy didn’t know what the fuck he was doing.

Tubbo was even more clueless.

When Tommy first came onto Tubbo’s doorstep frantically talking about being a father with a crying baby, Tubbo was in a state of great concern for his best friend. Tubbo knew Tommy as a scammer and a very…bold individual, to put it nicely. He did not think his friend had what it took to be any sort of fatherly figure. He was just too young and he was too…outgoing.

The first day, the pair worked hard to figure out how to make the infant stop crying. They found out she just needed food and a diaper change. Tommy had groaned in relief, sitting on Tubbo’s floor as he held the baby feeding her the milk. From there, Tubbo questioned where he even found a child.

“She was abandoned in a basket, in a tree. I decided to be a big man about it and take her in.”

“Are you crazy? Tommy, you didn’t even know her gender until two minutes ago.”

“Shut up.” Tommy huffed looking at his friend as he stopped giving (Y/N) milk for the moment. “I can figure it out, I’m still new to this Tubbo.”

“I think maybe we should give her to one of the other guys. We don’t know what to do, we just ran around my house for five minutes trying to make her stop crying for god’s sake.”

“I’ll figure it out! Even without your help.” Tommy looked back down at the infant, continuing to feed her.

So, Tubbo went along with it. Tommy was stubborn and to make sure the baby didn’t get hurt, Tubbo said he’d help his friend. To be fair, they didn’t have to do much, it was just a lot of work to do the few things and barely any time to do the same adventures they use to do.

Tommy was determined to do most of it on his own, only going to Tubbo when he was desperate for help. Which were a few times a week. He got better and better though, learning what (Y/N) needed and when.

Tommy had managed to make a crib all on his own (with a couple of tries) and he discovered, (Y/N) liked her crib at the end of his bed. She just liked being close to Tommy often and he actually didn’t mind. He was proud to show off his baby.

When he had shown her off to the others, they had all been in various bits of shock. Of course, when he first introduced her, the first thing he shouted was always;

“I’m a father now bitch! Meet (Y/N)!”

As he would, (Y/N) would giggle and babble, his excited energy rubbing off on her. After their various bits of shock (and Bad telling him to watch his language even more now that there was a baby), they would indeed think (Y/N) was cute but give him the same advice as Tubbo. Give her to an adult.

“None of them! None of them think I can take care of you.” Tommy huffed as (Y/N) finished her milk for the hour. “Isn’t that ridiculous?”

Tommy did struggle often. He didn’t get as much sleep as he once did, he stayed inside with (Y/N) more. It was a big change, but he was taking it seriously despite all his jokes. Just, no one could see it because they only saw Tommy as a child.

“Well, they’re all idiots. I know I have this.” Tommy told the infant as he sat back in bed, holding her. “Right Little (F/L)?”

(Y/N) squirmed slightly, babbling and Tommy smiled.

“Right! It’s that time.” He grinned as he stood up, going into his chests next to his jukebox.

As he pulled out one of his discs, Tubbo knocked on the door as he came in.

“Hey, am I interrupting?” He asked.

“No, you’re actually in time Big T!” Tommy said as he put the red labeled disc on.

“For what?” Tubbo questioned confused as Tommy sat down.

The music started to play and (Y/N) relaxed in Tommy’s arms. Tommy smiled softly, gently rocking her in his arms as he hummed along to the music. Tubbo was staring in amazement from behind Tommy’s seat.

“Do you…do you do this often?”

“Of course.” Tommy grinned at his best friend. “She’s got to learn great music. And look, she loves it so much she falls asleep.”

He was correct as when Tubbo looked, (Y/N) was giving a tiny yawn as she nuzzled into Tommy.

“Every day after lunch, I play the disc I got when I found her and she takes a nap.” Tommy quieted down; startling Tubbo as Tommy never quieted down. “I want to find more to let her hear more.”

Tommy put her down in her crib once she was fully asleep, motioning to the door. They both left as the music kept playing.

“We should go get more discs tomorrow.” Tommy declared, keeping his voice level as he went through his chests. “(Y/N) needs to hear them all and I want to have them all.”

“You…do that every day?” Tubbo said, still caught up on Tommy’s gentleness.

Tommy rolled his eyes. “Of course, I do. (Y/N) likes it and I like it so that’s our routine Tubbo. Sometimes it takes a while though and I have to move around the room.”

He didn’t mention that he danced to the music with her though, laughing with her as she would giggle, slightly embarrassed about the cute routine.

“So, are we going to go out tomorrow and get some discs or not?” Tommy grinned at his friend.

Tubbo stood there, thinking over what he had just seen. He thought about how he was actually wrong about Tommy. His best friend really cared about the girl; his own little girl. Tommy had acted drastically different than what he usually did to make sure she was well and happy. The taller boy was actually taking this very seriously and Tubbo couldn’t help but be proud of his friend.

“Tubbo.” Tommy snapped his fingers, looking at him disapprovingly.

“Oh, yeah. Let’s get some discs tomorrow. It’s been forever since we’ve gone on an adventure.” Tubbo smiled.

He thought Tommy could do this whole dad thing right.

…

Then he slightly regretted his words in the morning when Tommy showed up with the little girl and his adventuring gear.

“We are not taking (Y/N). It’s dangerous Tommy!” Tubbo protested.

“Nothing will happen to her; I wouldn’t let it. Neither would you. And try and say no to this face.” Tommy showed her off, grinning. “Come on now Uncle Tubbo.”

Tubbo paused, getting slightly giddy. “Uncle Tubbo?”

“Of course! Now! Let’s go get some discs!” Tommy took lead.

“…Wait! You distracted me!” Tubbo called exasperated as he followed his best friend.

(Y/N) giggled as Tommy grinned wider. Tommy was stubborn but in the case of being a father, it was a good thing as it meant his baby would grow up healthy and happy and he could care less about what others would say.

Wilbur

L’Manberg didn’t have many secrets but it had one well-guarded one. That would be the simple fact that (Y/N) existed.

After the first night with the new baby, Wilbur had gathered all the men inside the van.

“Time to greet the people little one.” He smiled as he heard the commotion of Tommy trying to command the others.

Coming out, he put on a serious face as everyone went quiet. Of course, Eret and Fundy already knew. The teenager had his arms crossed, looking away from his father and new sister, as Eret gave a small smile. The other two of L’Manberg…

“Did you fuck another fish?!” Tommy shouted in exasperation to his brother.

Fundy gave Tommy an offended glare as (Y/N) squirmed at the sudden loud noise.

“Tommy, quiet down now,” Wilbur told him as he gently rocked the little girl, Tubbo awing at how adorable she was. “Eret found her left outside the walls last night. I’m taking her in as she was obviously abandoned. So, meet the first woman of L’Manberg, (Y/N).”

“(Y/N) is a wonderful name.” Eret smiled a bit wider.

“She’s so cute and small,” Tubbo said, taking a step closer to get a better look at her.

Tommy huffed, already bored as Fundy simply stayed quiet.

“That being said, we are in the middle of a war.”

The weight of everything came back to rest on their shoulders as everyone with a smile stopped holding one. It was a dangerous time for all of them, no one able to leave the walls without a friend. Walls that were supposed to mean their freedom.

“That’s why no one must know (Y/N) exists. She must be a secret from all of the Dream SMP. They’ve shown how ruthless they can be and I don’t want to think about what they’d do if they knew about her. So, beyond these walls, (Y/N) doesn’t exist.”

Everyone gave a nod at the same time as (Y/N) had started to play with the ruffles on Wilbur’s uniform. He smiled gently as her as he took her hand, letting her play with his finger instead before looking dead serious at his men again.

“I can’t have just a nod. I need you to be verbal. This will not be taken lightly.”

Tommy spoke first as he gave a salute. “You have my word, Wilbur!”

Wilbur cracked a small smile; he could always rely on his little brother. “Good, now quiet down a bit.”

From there, it was a chorus of promises and she was their biggest secret that united them. Not even a traitor would dare breath word of her place in their walls.

The men could see a difference in their leader every day since then.

He left the van more often, actually going to his own home in the walls. Daily, everyone would see him carrying (Y/N) with him in her own little uniform he made on a walk within the walls. He sang more often like he used to before the declaration of war was made in order to soothe the little girl or simply to make her smile. There was a reason for him to relax and be soft and everyone was rather glad after all the weight he had been forced to hold.

Wilbur also saw the change in his men as the days went on.

Tubbo found joy with such an adorable new addition. He would sometimes join Wilbur on his daily walks within the walls to have a chance to hold the small girl. The young boy loved to also give her little gifts, usually toys he thought she’d like. He was very excited when Wilbur told him that she slept with a bee plushie he had gotten her.

Tommy was curious about her. Such a small thing, he was certain he was way bigger than her when he was that young. Wilbur let him hold her on the occasion if Tommy asked, but wouldn’t wonder if Tommy was holding her. He had faith in his little brother, but his eccentric energy just put Wilbur a little on edge. Often, Tommy would brag to the little girl that he’d be the coolest uncle and teach her many swear words when she got older, much to Wilbur’s dismay.

Eret did like the little girl, he really did as she was such a precious little thing, but he tried not to put too much attachment to her. He had begun…he had begun a different path and he didn’t want to also betray the little girl. And, the more separation he felt from her, the easier it was to lie about her existence. Though, there was the occasion he would do the same as Tubbo and gave her a toy or two, unable to help it as it put a smile on his face.

Fundy was different. He had been an only child for most of his life and now he had a little sister? It was only natural that he was jealous and sulked at all the attention she got from their father. Their father did try to include Fundy though; inviting every day on their walks, offering to let her feed instead, asking to play his piano while Wilbur sang. Unfortunately, Fundy wanted nothing to do with his little sister, often saying he hated her, which repeatedly broke Wilbur’s heart but he had faith; he’d change his son’s mind.

“I’m trying to have a peace talk with Dream today,” Wilbur told Fundy as he shrugged on his jacket while Fundy was sitting in the front seat of the van.

“Ok, and?” Fundy looked up at him.

“I’m taking Tubbo and Eret, Tommy’s staying guard and you.” Wilbur handed him a piece of paper. “And you are taking care of your sister.”

“What?! What the hell?” Fundy exclaimed, jumping up.

Wilbur put the paper in Fundy’s hand. “I have to go and try and make peace. I have faith in you son. (Y/N) would love to spend time with you anyways. Take good care of her alright? I don’t trust Tommy to watch her for so long but if you really need help, get him.”

“What…Why do I have to watch the brat?”

Wilbur gave him a stern look. “Fundy, she is your little sister. She is a part of our family. And family takes care of each other. Now, I want you to be nice to her and take care of her. Understood?”

Fundy clenched his jaw, shoving his hands in pockets. “Yeah, yeah.”

“Good.” Wilbur smiled at him now. “She’s still sleeping in my room. That paper is what she needs and when. You can do anything with her in-between. I’ll see you in a few hours my son.”

Wilbur left; his heart heavy as this was the first time he’d leave (Y/N) alone but hope helping it float as he hoped Fundy could love his sister as Wilbur loved her.

Fundy went into his father’s bedroom and saw the little girl already waking up slightly. He gave a heavy sigh as he picked her up carefully, holding her close.

“I hate you.” He muttered as she looked up at him.

The little girl giggled and he lowered his head. She gave pet to his face to feel the soft fur.

“I hate you’re too fucking adorable to hate.” He huffed. “Just don’t tell dad. Now, come on dipshit, time to eat.”

Fundy was jealous, yes. But he could never actually hate his adorable little sister. He’d keep her safe and make her happy too.

Wilbur got back later than he expected as Dream and his goons had chased their peaceful band like sport but they managed out relatively unscathed. The moon was already up and Wilbur was worried as he hadn’t written instructions for this long in the night for Fundy. After Tommy reported no incidents along the walls, Wilbur rushed home but froze, his heart-melting. In the living room, there was a long finished playing record on the jukebox and on the couch, Fundy laid with his arm over (Y/N) securely as she laid on his chest, both of them asleep.

“Thank you, my little champion,” Wilbur muttered with a smile, gently picking (Y/N) up before putting a blanket over Fundy. “I’m proud of you.”

Wilbur held (Y/N) close to him as he walked to his bedroom.

“And you, my little star, a day won’t go by where you won’t be loved. You’re our little star of hope in L’Manberg. You remind everyone what we fight for and you bring everyone smiles. We will bring peace, just so you can see how bright you shine my little star.” He kissed her forehead before putting her in her crib. “Sleep well love.”

Philza

Walking took longer than flying but it was definitely safer for his new little angel. He had tried to find her parents, asking around with the survivors but they weren’t there. So, Phil took her with him to meet his sons. When he started this journey, of the list of things he’d thought would happen, he didn’t think he’d gain a new child. Yet, there she slept peacefully in the sash Phil had made to carry her and keep her warm rather than carrying her in his arms the entire walk.

She most certainly quieter than most of his other children had been when they were this small, which Phil did not mind one bit. When she was awake, he would talk to her to fill her world though. He’d tell her about her new brothers and how he was sure they’d all love her in their own way.

“Techno will take a little convincing, he has a thing about orphans.” Phil scrunched up his nose. “But he’ll learn to you like you (Y/N).”

He hadn’t been able to find a name either for the new baby so he gave her one on his own.

Finally, after days of travel, Phil reached a crest of a hill and was able to see a beautiful town laid before him. From the looks of some decorations, they had some sort of festival recently. The worrying part was the people in armor down below, but, a large portion of them were celebrating. Phil scanned them over then he grew a large smile. Wilbur was patting Tommy’s shoulder as the younger boy was screaming with one of those celebrating, Techno to the side smirking.

His sons had managed to figure it all out.

“Looks like we were a little late angel. Your brothers can be smart when they choose to be.” He chuckled. “We’ll wait here and let them have their moment of victory.”

He sat on the edge of the hill, giving (Y/N) her afternoon milk as he watched the crowd below and listened to the start of celebratory speeches. As he quickly burped the infant, he frowned as Wilbur left his seat in the crowd, walking away as Tubbo was getting on stage.

“Let’s go see what he’s up to.” He muttered to the little girl, putting her in his sash securely before carefully flying over.

He landed as Wilbur walked into a room in a hill behind the stage. His eyes went wide as he remembered one of Tommy’s letters.

Will keeps saying if he can’t have L’Manberg, no one can. He made a room rigged to TNT under our nation. I’m hoping to talk him down but I don’t know if I can.

“Shit.” Phil sprinted over, walking into the room after his son.

Inside were mad scribblings as Wilbur stood with his hand on the wall next to a button.

“What are you doing?” Phil asked him.

Wilbur jumped, whirling around to see his father standing there, wearing a sash, unable to see the child it was holding.

“Phil…?”

“What are you doing?” Phil repeated.

Wilbur ran his hands through his hair as he looked back at the button then his father.

“How’d you…do you know what this is?” He motioned to the room around him.

“I do.” Phil nodded, stepping carefully forward.

“Have heard the songs on the walls?” Wilbur asked in turn as he ran his hand over a few of the words. “I was just saying to myself, there was a special place where men can go, but there’s not anymore! It’s not…” Wilbur sighed as he looked back at the button.

“It is there,” Phil told him as he put a hand on the side of the child to calm her down as she squirmed. “You just, you’ve just won it back.”

“Phil! I’m always so close to pressing this button, Phil! I’ve been—I’ve been here like seven or eight times I’ve been here.” Wilbur threw up his arms as Phil stood his ground when he saw the crazed look in his son’s eyes.

The little girl tried to give an uncomfortable babble at the loud shouting but Wilbur talked over her, having yet to notice the extra body in the room. In comfort, Phil put a hand over one of her ears as he pressed her close to him.

“Phil I-I’ve been here so many times.” Outside of the room, they all could hear the sound of fireworks going off. “They’re fighting. They’re fighting.”

“And you want to just blow it all up?” Phil questioned.

“I do I think I—”

“You fought so hard to get this land back.” Phil tried to discourage one of his older sons. “So hard.”

“I don’t even, I don’t even know if works anymore Phil,” Wilbur said, his hand hovering over the button, making Phil take a step forward. “I don’t even know if the button works I could, I could press it and might not…”

Wilbur looked back, grinning like a mad man and Phil squeezed the young girl lightly.

“Do you really want to take that risk? Wilbur…” He went to continue to say, hoping to bring up his new little sister to discourage the man but Wilbur looked away, staring at the button.

“There was a saying Phil, by a traitor. It was never meant to be.” Wilbur pressed the button, grinning at Phil as the hiss went off.

“No!” Phil shouted, quickly pulling his son close as he covered the three of them his wings as the blast went off.

He winced as the blast and the heat singed and damaged his feathers but he didn’t move as he held his two children close. He wouldn’t let them get harmed.

The sound of white noise rang in their ears as the explosions slowly stopped. Phil raised his wings slightly to look in horror at the destruction before them. Outside their half-destroyed room, Phil slowly started to hear the voices crying with terror at what they just witnessed as Wilbur stood before the hole holding his arms out as he grinned.

“My L’Manberg Phil! My unfinished symphony forever unfinished! If I can’t have this no one can Phil!”

“Oh my god.” Phil breathed, the ringing dying down enough for him to be startled at the cries closest to him.

(Y/N) screamed out cries in the aftermath of the loud explosions and shouting, her own ears ringing. Phil held her close, trying to calm her down despite his horror and disappointment. Wilbur finally heard the cries himself and looked over to finally notice the little girl. For a moment, he could see through his madness.

“Who’s…who’s this?” Wilbur muttered.

“She’s (Y/N),” Phil told him as he put his forehead on the little girl’s. “I came to help you and found her. I brought her to show her what her new brothers made. What great work you’ve done.”

“What great…” Wilbur looked over at what he had done.

Behind him, he could hear the cries of his new tiny sister he hadn’t been aware he had. Phil had brought her to show her a place of peace and beauty, but instead, Wilbur showed her terror and destruction. Across the explosion, he could see Tommy’s horror-struck face at the sight of their once great nation gone. This was his fault…

He pulled his sword, holding the handle to Will. “Kill me, Phil.”

“What?!” Phil looked at his son shocked, still clutching onto the crying girl.

“Stab me with the sword. Murder me now. Kill me!” Will demanded as he motioned to the crowd. “Look, they all want you to!”

Phil was stood in shock as he held a crying child in one arm while looking over at the crowd of terrified and horror-filled faces.

“Kill me, Phil!” Wilbur shouted.

“I—You’re my son!” Phil yelled. “No matter what you do—I can’t—”

“Phil!” Wilbur shouted, shoving the sword handle into his hand. “This isn’t—! Look! Look! How much work went into this and it’s gone! Do it.”

Phil looked from his son to the crowd, to the child in his arms. He couldn’t…why’d…(Y/N) should get a chance to meet her own brother! L’Manberg had ruined his son. He had gone mad…

“I’m sorry.” He whispered under his breath before plunging the sword.

Tears filled Phil’s eyes as he let go of the sword and held his son. (Y/N)’s wails only got louder and Phil cried with her.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry both of you.” He muttered

He wished everything could be different…

…

Phil sat by the fire with the L’Manberg citizens, one of his hands shaking slightly as the other gently rocked the no longer crying child.

Tommy had been speechless since the betrayal he received from both of his brothers, but looking up at his father across from him, he stood and spoke.

“Who’s she?” He asked.

Phil looked at him as the others looked over as well.

“This is your new little sister (Y/N). I found her when the village I was staying at was raided and I saved her. Would you like to hold her?”

Tommy came over and sat in front of his father. Phil helped him before letting his now second youngest hold her on his own. Tommy’s face had held no emotion after everything today but now it softened as the little girl met his eyes. He hugged her lightly as Phil held onto his shaking hand with his other to stop it.

“I wish you could have seen what L’Manberg looked like (Y/N),” Tommy mumbled to her. “Wilbur and Techno betrayed me but I promise. I won’t betray you. I never will do that to you.”

Phil looked at his son sadly as Tommy put his forehead on hers softly. At least Phil knew that she’d be well-loved by the brother she got to meet properly.

From there, the next few days were made for rebuilding. Phil helped the group as best he could but he had to rest to let his wings heal and he also had to take care of his little angel. Tommy made sure the others built Phil one of the first houses so his sister could be in a proper bed.

It warmed Phil’s heart that Tommy cared so much about his new little sister. Tommy would visit the pair occasionally just to see her, Phil giving him a little bit of trust to take care of her. Of course, Tommy used that trust to be his usual self and brag about how cute his little sister was to anyone that would listen to the boy’s antics. Though many couldn’t deny the boy, she was a very cute little girl and often brought smiles to other’s faces.

Phil was glad that his quiet little girl could bring joy to people that had been through so much. He just wished that she had had a chance to bring smiles to those that didn’t walk beside them any more…

Technoblade

“Phil,” Techno called on his walkie, trying to quiet down the girl crying in his arms.

“Yes?” Phil answered.

“She won’t stop crying,” Techno told him, Phil, able to hear the girl, chuckling quietly to himself. “Don’t laugh at this!”

“Sorry, sorry. Alright, you feed and changed her right?” The older man listed.

“Yes.” He had done it a few minutes ago, on his usual schedule to do so.

“Did you burp her after she ate?”

Techno paused and huffed before burping the child, the cries dying down after she released the gas that had built up.

“I forgot, she stopped.”

“Good. Just relax now, alright Techno?”

“Yeah.” Techno sighed as he put his walkie away, looking down at the little girl. “What now brat?”

It was often that Techno called his father to ask what to do. To put it simply, he was worried he’d fuck this all up. He had never exactly taken care of a child before; it had been all anarchy and blood before he decided on retirement. Hell, he barely ever took care of Tommy when he was a child, that was usually Wilbur’s thing.

He didn’t know the first thing he was doing nor did the voices. They always threw out different ideas contradicting each other. So, Techno always did his best and when it didn’t seem like enough, he went immediately to Phil.

When he did have things under control though, it was just any other day. Brew some potions out of habit, take care of the animals before collecting food for himself and milk for (Y/N), and trade with some of the villagers close by. The only difference was that he brought (Y/N) with him while he did anything.

To his relief, she was a quiet child and didn’t mind his quiet nature. She didn’t need pointless noise to be happy so he could just simply work. Techno did get Phil to make her a warmer outfit and Phil took it seriously but also made it a joke. He made her a pink outfit from wool and leather and with a bit extra, put fake pig ears on the hood of the outfit, which Techno would never admit looked adorable on her out loud.

He most certainly didn’t put it on her even if they weren’t going out that day, why would anyone think that?

Phil most certainly did spoil her though when he would come over. He’d always have something new for the little girl, clothes, and toys. His father also often tried to discourage Techno from using some of his nicknames for his child when the older man was over, such as brat.

(Y/N) yawned quietly and Techno chuckled, a small smile cracking on his face.

“Tired early huh? Yeah, ok, I can use a nap.” He nodded as he went up to his bedroom.

He sat on his bed, leaning back on the headboard as he racked his brain for their daily ritual.

“I got a good one today.” He laughed quietly. “Let me tell you about the story of Theseus.”

Every nap and bedtime, there was always a story for Techno to tell. Sometimes he’d tell her about his adventures around the world, about the places he conquered. There were other days when he’d tell her about myths he had memorized. It was when he’d talk the most to the little girl and he rather enjoyed these moments in his day.

It was their special little thing and he wouldn’t ever want to miss them.

Close to the end of the story, he stopped as he noticed (Y/N) was asleep. He nodded as he laid back, resting her carefully on his chest.

A crib was one thing Techno had not invested his time in. He didn’t move in his sleep and it was rare for the little girl to move in hers. So, he slept with her on his chest, giving him and the voices a better piece of mind. No one knew where he was, but he was still paranoid. This was the safest place for her.

“Sleep well little goddess,” Techno muttered, a hand on her back.

Despite the trials, he didn’t mind being a father.

Eret

Eret put a small flower crown on the infant’s head that matched the one he was wearing, smiling as she giggled, before picking her up, continuing on their daily walk through the SMP.

It was a lot of trial and error with the pair but Eret was a quick learner and adapted to the needs of his new child. He didn’t do as much as he once did with his friends, fewer prank wars with Fundy, and less involvement with Tommy’s antics, but he didn’t mind. He spent those hours with his little princess now; taking walks with her, playing with her along the way and in the castle, and making clothes that made her the adorable princess that she.

Of course, he did still sometimes get involved.

“Eret!” Tommy yelled on the walkie.

Eret chuckled as he took it from his pocket. “It seems Tommy is having troubles again princess.” She gave a babble and Eret nodded. “You’re very right. Let’s see what he needs. Yes, Tommy?”

“I need your help at my base ASAP!” Tommy demanded.

“It’s nothing dangerous right?” He asked.

“Of course not, now if you could hurry.”

He shook his head chuckling. “Alright, I’m on my way.”

Putting the walkie away, he hugged his little girl lightly as he changed direction.

“Sorry princess, we need to go check on Tommy. I know you won’t mind though.”

There were other times that had happened similarly and Eret would take (Y/N) with him to meet the younger boy. The younger boy’s energy would rub off on the infant and she would get excited as well, babbling and giggling constantly. As long as nothing dangerous was going on, Eret was glad to bring (Y/N) over as it always brought a smile to his face at how adorable she’d get.

Walking onto Tommy's property, he saw the young boy waiting impatiently outside his dirt home.

“There you are! You brought the brat?” He huffed.

“Come now, Tommy. (Y/N) loves being around you, at least be kind to her.” Eret smiled, knowing the boy meant no ill will.

“Right, now!” Tommy said dramatically as he opened the door to his base. “I need to make a plan!”

Following him in, he saw Tubbo was also there looking over a paper with Tommy’s handwriting on it. Tubbo looked up as they came in and grinned seeing the little girl in Eret’s arms.

“You brought (Y/N)!” Tubbo exclaimed excitedly as he came over. “Can I hold her?”

Eret laughed as he nodded, helping the other boy hold her. Tubbo enjoyed seeing the little girl, loving to play with her and spend time with her. There were times when Eret would let Tubbo babysit his princess so he could do a few more dangerous tasks.

“You got a little crown, you’re really a princess now.” Tubbo grinned as the girl babbled at him.

“We’re not here for (Y/N), we’re here to plan!” Tommy protested now.

Tommy didn’t mind the small child, he just got annoyed when the focus would come off him.

Focus went back on Tommy but Eret left after a little while to give (Y/N) her lunch for the day. She had gotten energetic after seeing the two boys, babbling and giggling as Eret played with her on the walk back. As they got back to his castle, he saw a wrapped package and note at the main door. Picking it up, he saw it was Fundy’s handwriting.

You stand no chance, it’s for (Y/N)

He raised an eyebrow, opening the package then laughed.

“It seems Fundy wishes to make you love him more than me.” Eret showed her the fox plushy, making her eyes sparkle as he gave it to her. “But I know that you’ll always love me, princess.” He booped her nose, (Y/N) looking at his sunglasses, babbling. “That’s right. I think this prank was an automatic failure. I love you princess.”

Dream

“Come on (Y/N), you just got to hold out your hands to me,” Sapnap told the infant in the crib at the community house.

“No, she’s going to me,” George argued.

The little girl looked between the two as they went between bickering and encouraging her to hold her hands out to them. Then she looked directly between them and held her arms out giggling.

“What?” George looked behind them and yelped seeing Dream.

“What are you idiots doing?” Dream laughed as he picked up his daughter.

“We were trying to get (Y/N) to choose her favorite uncle, but then you ruined it.” Sapnap huffed, crossing his arms.

“Well, I am her favorite person.” Dream bragged as he pulled his mask up while looking at the little girl. “Peek-a-boo.”

The girl gave a little squeal of laughter and Dream chuckled rubbing his nose against hers.

“She loves both of you idiots.” Dream told them, put his mask back on. “You’re her uncles.”

“Yeah, but I got to prove Uncle Sapnap is the best.” Sapnap pointed to himself.

“No! I’m better than you of course.”

The two bickered and Dream shook his head at his friends before leaving the community house.

“Your uncles are stupid.” Dream whispered to the little girl, tickling her stomach making her giggle. “Why don’t we go look at what the new people have built today, sound good sweetheart?”

After Dream had taken in the little girl, his life had most certainly brightened more as their world around them grew. She was a constant ball of happiness that always made Dream and his friends smile. Of course, they had to power through learning how to take care of a baby, a lot of screaming coming from all parties the first night they had the child. But they were starting to get the hang of it.

One thing Dream loved to do that always seemed to please the little girl was taking her around to see the new buildings that were slowly starting to appear as more people joined their land of the SMP. She seemed to like taking in the new sights so Dream took her whenever someone new came or a new build appeared.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do with your uncles when you get older. They’re going to be falling over each other to get your attention.” Dream told her as he walked. “I think they think I’ll like whoever wins. You’re my special little girl after all. But what they don’t know, is I don’t care as long as you’re happy.”

It was very true that Dream’s two best friends were always falling each other to get the attention of the infant already. They got her many things to win her over, having similar competitions when Dream wasn’t looking. Right now, the score was even.

To try and balance the two-out, Dream would alternate on who he took out for dangerous adventures and who would stay with his little girl. He couldn’t send the both of them on their own, unfortunately, least one of them “trips” into a lava pool.

Dream stopped on the edge of the new property, (Y/N) looking at the colorful flowers decorating it.

He was a bit hesitant to show her off to others as he wasn’t the most trusting but if they were going to be part of his land, he would introduce her out principle. He did say she was going to be the princess of his land.

“No new faces today doesn’t seem Tommy is around.” Dream said to her. “We’ll see him later I’m sure. How about we go visit Punz for a bit?”

He walked away from the property. There were so many people on his land now, he was sure it would become a bright place where his little princess could always be happy.

Lost Ones Taglist: @kakamihasatmblr @ialexabsuniverse @teaguecosmos @chaosofsmarty

A/N: If you want to be in this taglist I have a post on my page you can reply on or just send me an ask :)

#mcyt x reader #mcyt fanfiction #dreamsmp #tommyinnit x reader #wilbur soot x reader #philza x reader #technoblade x reader #eret x reader #dream x reader

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fireflykaizoku · 4 years ago

Note

Hey bestie if you don’t mind could you possibly do a body swap soulmate AU with Luffy but his s/o is the sister of Kid cause I’m sure he wouldn’t like that Luffy is his lol sister’s soulmate😂

bestieee hiii! omg that's such a cool idea, and it was so fun to write! kid is probably wondering "is this a nightmare?" i hope you like it! ❤

You woke up early and jumped out of the bed. Rushing to the kitchen, still in your pajamas, the crew greeted you. They smiled wishing you a happy birthday, while Killer and Kid brought a cake.

— Happy Birthday, brat. — Kid ruffled your hair. — As you get older, you get less annoying. If you find your soulmate this year, I hope they’re ready to deal with you.

— And I bet I’ll find my soulmate before you even find yours. — you laughed.

The day was full of celebrations, beer and food, while Kid tried to keep an eye on you to be sure you wouldn’t drink too much. The man was quite protective, even though he tried to pretend he didn’t care. It was his duty to keep you safe, not just because he was your captain, but because he was your brother.

Luffy opened his eyes, and found weird enough the fact he couldn’t smell Sanji’s food or Brook singing. Instead, he heard more voices than the usual. Opening his eyes, he noticed right away it wasn’t the Sunny. The boy scratched his head, wondering what this place could be.

He got up and looked around, maybe the Strawhats dragged him somewhere while he was sleeping. Until he found a familiar figure from far.

— Oi, Jaggy! — he said, waving at the redhead, who raised an eyebrow. You’ve never called him that before. In fact, there was only one person who called him that.

— (Y/N)? — Kid asked. — What’s wrong?

— What? No, it’s me, Luffy! — the dark haired boy giggled.

Then it hit him. You switched bodies with your soulmate, and even worse, your soulmate was that Mugiwara. Out of all people, except Trafalgar, why him? Why destiny had to make him your soulmate? Luffy would start thinking they were friends, what a nightmare.

When the others realized what happened, they couldn’t help laughing at their captain’s misfortune, while Killer patiently went to explain Luffy the situation and how to switch back.

Meanwhile, you woke up with the smell of food, but it smelled differently from what Killer usually made. You could hear giggles, singing and weirdly enough, female voices. That was odd, since the crew didn’t bring any girls to the Victoria Punk, since the ship hasn’t docked in a couple of weeks.

You opened your eyes and realized it wasn’t your room. You saw other beds, and the decoration was completely different. Next to you, there was a strawhat, a hat you remembered well, not just from the wanted posters, but also from the time you’ve met the other Supernovas in Sabaody, and later in Wano.

When you realized you switched bodies with Monkey D. Luffy, captain of the Strawhat Pirates, your mind was a little confused. First, you were glad you already had the chance to see who your soulmate was; but also, you couldn’t help laughing imagining your brother’s reaction when he found out. They were rivals, and they were completely opposites.

Kid would probably be angry and against this. But there was nothing he could do, soulmates are meant to be together, right? You deserved a happy ending.

You saw everyone sitting and having breakfast, you even remembered their faces, but didn’t quite remember the names. When you acted shy, unlike their captain’s usual attitude, that’s the first time the crew noticed something was off. During breakfast, you didn’t eat like he did, neither tried to steal food from the other plates.

— Luffy, what’s wrong? — a girl with orange hair asked, she seemed surprised and worried. — You didn’t eat even half of your food.

— I’m full, thank you. — you smiled, hoping they’d buy it. Obviously you only made it worse.

While some seemed to choke on their food after you statement, and even the green haired man, who apparently was asleep, woke up right away. All you could do was look at them asking if you were sick, if something was wrong, and calling a reindeer that would be able to take care of you. Everyone was talking at the same time, and it was hard to try to answer them.

Until a dark haired woman, with a friendly smile, said something.

— He switched bodies with his soulmate. — she giggled. — Didn’t you?

You nodded, and finally everything got quiet. Well, at least for two minutes, until the crew asked many questions at the same time. They wanted to know your name, if you were from an island near them, what you did for a living, and so many other questions.

— I’m (Y/N). — they all got quiet, listening to what you were saying. — I don’t live in an island, but I’m part of Kid’s Pirates. — you said, a bit worried they would treat you different because of that. — I’m Kid’s sister.

Everyone gasped, not even ready to process that information. They remember seeing you many times from far, but couldn’t even imagine you and Kid were siblings. There wasn’t even a small resemblance.

They made you feel very comfortable, reassuring that they’d help you find the Victoria Punk, and fix this situation soon. The day went pretty normal, with the blonde making snacks for you and the other girls, the skeleton asking to see your panties when you switched back, and the cute little reindeer asking questions about you.

The Strawhats seemed to be fun, treating you as part of the crew.

— We’ll arrive in just a few hours if the weather doesn’t change. — Nami smiled. — Are you excited?

— Yes. — you giggled. — A little nervous too. I’ve seen Luffy before, but now it’s different. And thank you for treating me so well.

After dinner, you sat on the deck with the others. You wondered what would happen after switching back. The only thing you knew for now was that you’d miss them.

One or two hours later, you spotted the ship from far. It was exciting, your heart started beating fast and you couldn’t help walking around in circles. You jumped in on the Victoria Punk as soon as the ships were close enough from each other.

— Finally! I had to spend the whole day with him! — your brother glared at Luffy. — He thinks we’re friends now, and he didn’t leave me alone.

— I had a nice time, though. — you smiled. — They’re so cool, and treated me like family.

Before Kid could tell you not to get any ideas, Luffy ran towards you, with his signature giggle.

— Oi, (Y/N)! Killer told me how to switch back. — the boy smiled. — We need to kiss! Let's kiss!

Your cheeks got red, not expecting Luffy to be so straightforward, especially not in front of your brother. When you least expected, the boy pulled you into a kiss. Holding your face with his hands, it was clumsy and even sloppy. He didn’t know what he was doing, and you were caught off guard and couldn’t even kiss him properly. That and the crew having to hold Kid who kept saying “stay away from my sister” couldn’t create a better mood for the first kiss.

Surprisingly, felt his arms wrapped around you, using his devil fruit powers to hold you tight. You opened your eyes and saw Luffy so close, with a wide smile. How you two fell in love? You would never know. It was sometime between Sabaody, seeing each other in Wano, or during this whole day when you were in each other’s body.

— Brother, I want to stay with them. — you pouted. — I want to be with my soulmate.

— No, I won’t let you stay with him! He’s my rival and that’s unacceptable!

— Don't worry, I’ll take care of her, Jaggy! — he smiled, stretching his arms to grab you and pull you closer. — And now that we’re almost family, we can start an alliance!

#one piece #one piece x reader #luffy x reader #luffy #monkey d luffy #one piece scenario

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1kook · 5 years ago

Text

dreamy

—pjm x (f) reader

summary; You try to not let it get to you, but Jimin is so cool and you want him to be your boyfriend so bad. warnings; ANGST lol, fwb, reader is very :(( rating; mature (18+) bc tiny smut lol misc; small smut scene, a happy ending <3 wc; 2.5k

notes; i have to post on #JIMIN’s bday or else i cannot live with myself anyway here’s me trying to fit an entire novella plot line in less than 5k words clap for me except maybe don't bc its not proofread anyway hbd jimin <3

Jimin is a nice guy, but you doubt he’d make a nice boyfriend. He fucks you hard and fast, just as you like, but hardly goes out of his way to sprinkle in any other requests. He’s got a one track mind, doesn’t dwell too long on what you say or how you’re feeling. Doesn’t matter because he’s just supposed to be a fuck buddy, the hot guy you met at a party, so you don’t let it phase you. But, well. Jimin is dreamy.

Sometimes he holds your hand while he eats you out and it sends your thoughts into a frenzy, makes your heart pound a little too fast to brush it off as just arousal. He’s got this gorgeous smile, plush lips framing pearly teeth, and when he flashes it your way, it makes your knees weak. Tells you you’re pretty when he picks you up from class, always holds your hand on the way to his place for your routine fuck. Cute and nice like an angel, but just like an angel, he hardly gives a shit about anyone’s feelings but his own.

He laughs when you ask him to hang out that weekend.

“What, like a date?” he snorts, bare chest glistening from his post-fuck exertion. You're pressed against his side now, circling his pretty brown nipple with your finger. “That’s corny.”

You try to not let it get to you, but Jimin is so cool and you want him to be your boyfriend so bad. “Yeah, silly right,” you murmur, ear pressed to his heart. It’s calming and soothing, a slow thrum that contrasts with your own racing heart.

He’s not one for dates or for romantic things like that. But neither is he some player, a cheater, a two-timer. You can count the number of times he’s slept with someone who wasn’t you in your weird fuck buddy relationship, and all four of those had been when you first started sleeping together and only when you had been out of town. You’re no saint either, so you try to understand. He was just horny, liked getting his dick wet, and sometimes he couldn’t wait for you. Understandable, you tell yourself, but your heart hurts a little bit when he begins snoring without really answering your question.

See the thing is, you really like Jimin. It’s been a little over a year now since you’ve met, so you’ve had plenty of time to learn all about him. He doesn’t like pancakes for breakfast, prefers them for lunch actually, and laughs when you tell him that’s weird. He’s got this really dorky laugh, something between a bell and a whistle— it depends on the situation. Sometimes, Jimin likes when you play with his hair, and other times he doesn’t. He’s a sweet boy, you know he is, so why won’t he settle down?

You hate to attribute it to some past trauma, some “my girlfriend broke my heart when I was seventeen” mess, but the more time that passes you begin to believe it’s true. Jimin was a tough nut to crack, and the longer this drags on, the longer he ignores your feelings, you begin to doubt you will ever see them fulfilled.

Maybe you should end this now before it’s too late.

You don’t stay for breakfast the next morning, simply kiss him goodbye at the door like always. He’s older than you, about two years, so he doesn’t go to school anymore, just chills at home all weekend. “I’ll see you soon?” he grins, low-lidded eyes tracking the movement of your mouth as you bid him adieu. You never give him a solid response, figure a guy like Jimin will forget about you soon enough.

Then, suddenly, it’s been two weeks and he doesn’t reach out. Yeah it hurts, but it’s better than having confessed to him and losing him all at once. You’d rather this ending than the one where he terribly rejects you, breaks your heart into a million pieces, and throws you away. Still, it hurts.

Jimin was so cool. He was smart and confident, had a snappy sort of attitude that he liked to use now and then. He could be mean in bed, lick your cunt until you cried and call you a stupid girl when he wanted to. But that same tongue had snapped at a guy who was trying to pressure you into bed with him at a party. That first night you met, where you had sillily followed him home after his dashing intervention, you had thought it would be nothing more. Just a fling, just a fuck.

But then he was in your bed and in your head, twinkling eyes and cocky grin trailing after you everyday. He was so pretty and so suave, made you feel good even when he was being mean. But you suppose most cocky men like Jimin are like that. They know they don’t disappoint, even when they’re not really trying.

Jimin doesn’t call or text. You don’t see his car pull up outside your campus anymore. He’s gone and that’s that. You cry a little (see: a lot) and pretend you’re over him. You definitely don’t think about his soft laughter or his hands on your chest. Nope.

So that ends.

Or so you think.

Your friends say you’re mopey and sad, too down for someone who wasn’t even your boyfriend. It’s true, which sucks, but they honor your admittance by taking you out to a bar that night. It’s supposed to be chill and relaxing, just some drinks with the girls to soothe your aching heart. But the name of the bar reminds you of something, of someone you can’t reach anymore, and you don’t even know why. You’ve never been here before, never even knew this place existed. But everything about it brings you back to Jimin, like you’re in his space now, and you’re unsure why.

It reminds you of his laugh, his smile, to the point you swear you can hear it, right beside you, down the bar, to your left—

He waves.

There’s this look he used to give you every time he picked you up from your last class, this mix between adoration and lust that made your skin tingle with excitement. It’s not there now, in fact, it’s replaced with the complete opposite. It’s, like, the meanest look he can muster, something akin to a scowl. He smiles, but it’s so plastic-y and fake, it makes your head hurt. He’s so obviously unimpressed with you, probably because you ghosted him before he could ghost you. Maybe his pride is hurt and looking at you grosses him out. Maybe he just hates you.

Either way, eleven pm rolls around and you’re crying in the bathroom. Your friends are out on the floor having fun and singing karaoke. They think you’ve gone inside because you got your period, because that’s what you’ve told them. You don’t know how to explain that your ex who isn’t really your ex is out there looking at you like you’re a piece of gum stuck under his shoe. They’ve never even met Jimin. Why? Because he wasn’t your boyfriend. Who meets their friend’s fuck buddy? No one.

You sniffle, press a balled up tissue against your eyes in a feeble attempt to save your makeup. The bar isn’t that small, but neither is it huge. There’s only a few bathrooms in the back, and you’ve been hogging one of them for some time now. Someone knocks on the door, and you don’t even get the chance to ward them off before the crappy knob jingles and the door bursts open.

“Come on,” he grumbles, “you’re not the only one who’s gotta piss—“

He pauses, meets your eye through the mirror in surprise. “I’m sorry,” you blubber, hurriedly washing your hands in an effort to avoid his gaze. Jimin lingers at the door, which has long since fallen shut, and watches you with the eyes of a hawk. Your hands tremble and shake, fumble over the towel dispenser three times before you’re hastily making your escape. “Sorry,” you mutter again, head downcast as you move around him for the door.

Just as it cracks open, the music from outside filtering in, he slams it shut with a flat palm. You flinch, close in on yourself as he steps behind you. “What’re you doing here, doll?” he murmurs, deep yet careful. Tentative. “You don’t like bars.”

You know you don’t like bars. You didn’t know he knew that. “I’m with some friends,” you explain, jump when a hand touches your shoulder. “I— I’ll leave soon.”

A second attempt for the door is thwarted by Jimin. “Don’t,” he startles, breath heavy against your ear. “Don’t leave again…” he sighs, forehead against your shoulder. And then, quietly, “why did you leave me?”

Your heart syncs up with the music outside, thunders in your ears as you purse your lips. You don’t want to talk about it now, don’t want to confess to these emotions that drown you. Especially not when he’ll never understand nor will he ever care. It’s best to leave it as is, you convince yourself, slowly shrugging him off.

“We don’t want the same things,” you reply, eyes burning with the need to cry like a baby. But it’ll weaken your argument, make you look like the sentimental girl you know he won’t like. “It wouldn’t work anyway.”

The hand on your shoulder jerks you around, makes a gasp catch in your throat when he crowds you against the door. He’s got that same glare on from before, the one he had sent you across the bar earlier, and it makes your lower lip tremble when it’s this close. “You never asked me what I wanted,” he hisses.

It is then that you realize it isn't anger or disgust, but frustration that paints his features. It’s pure, unadulterated confusion and distress on his pretty face, furrowed brows and narrowed eyes pointed your way. You don’t know what it means, don’t know what he wants. “I,” you choke, weakly covering your face with your hand before he can see you crumble. “I just wanted you.”

Jimin deflates, steps closer until his body is pressed against yours, hands on your shoulders. “And you have me, doll,” he murmurs, bumps his nose against yours. “Always have.”

You shake your head, choke on a sob that bubbles up your throat. “No, not like that,” you stress, losing yourself in the emotions you spent so much time bottling up. “I wanted more.”

Jimin shushes you, guides your head into the crook of his neck where you paint his skin in dark mascara tears. “Is this about the date?” he sighs, patting your head gently.

“It’s more than just the date,” you cry, fists curling into the material of his shirt until it rumples beyond repair. He doesn’t understand.

Jimin nods, let’s you cry and sob until you’re feeling better and someone else is pounding at the door, yelling at you two to get a proper room. You don’t want a room, you only want his heart.

He takes you home again, helps you out of your shoes at the door because you’re still sensitive and quiver like a leaf when you walk. His bedroom is familiar, smells like him and his detergent. You miss it so much, want to savor it once more. Something in your gut says this is the last time, this is just Jimin getting one last fuck out of you before he really abandons you.

So you cry when he sits down on the edge of the bed. He hasn’t even said anything, hasn’t even taken his socks off yet, but you’re already a mess.

And of course he’s there to catch you, tugs you between his legs to look up at you as if you’ve hung the stars in the sky. “Don’t cry,” he whispers, reaching up to brush away your tears. But it’s not your fault that he looks like that right before he’s going to break your heart.

He’s so cool, even when you’re falling apart in his hands. “You don’t want me,” you sniffle, let him guide you onto his lap. “You just want to fuck and that’s it.”

Jimin leans his forehead against yours, warm breath washing over your skin. “I never said that,” he murmurs. “We’ve been over this.”

You huff. “Well you never said you did either,” you snap, rubbing at your eyes.

You cry and cry some more, until your sobs subside and you’re left with the hiccups afterwards. Jimin maneuvers you beside him, lets your hair spill across the sheets as he lays you down. They smell just like him, make your head spin when he kisses your cheek softly. “I want you,” he confesses. “I want this.”

You shake your head vehemently. “No, you don’t,” you sniff, but you’re not so sure. It’s what you’ve been telling yourself for the longest. Hearing him say otherwise sounds weird, even if he’s saying what you want to hear. “You don’t.”

Jimin catches your hand in his, pins it to the mattress. “I want you to be mine,” he adds, swallows your cries of denial with his lips. He kisses softly, and for the first time, it feels like he’s paying attention to you. Not your body or your lust, but your heart. “Had me feeling like shit when you didn’t come back. Like I lost something big.”

You still cry when he kisses down your neck, over your chest. His hands pull your clothes off, carefully like you’re a present for him to unwrap. Those plush lips you love so much drown you in kisses, over your tummy and your mound, until they’re buried between your cunt. “You’re mine,” he husks out, hand entwined with yours.

His eyes are dark from down there, long lashes blinking up at you as he dips his tongue in the places you crave him most. It brings you to a shuddering end, has you whimpering his name into the empty air until your toes are curling and you’re coming against his mouth. Jimin has never shied away from you, and doesn’t know, sits up with a hazy look in his eyes as he wipes his face with the back of his hand.

Jimin wastes no time undressing, pushes off that sexy jacket until his lithe body is coming into view, thick thighs and lean abdomen. He slides right into you, holds your knees to your chest as he fucks you like never before. It’s slow and sensual, makes you shiver when he says your name in that low register of his. “Don’t leave again,” he whimpers, cock throbbing between your walls. He’s desperate today, ruts like you’ll slip right between his fingertips. It’s funny because you're the same way, clinging onto his shoulders until you’re practically glued together.

You come and so does Jimin. He pants against your ear, feels so warm and heavy on top of you. He doesn’t say much more that night, just plays with your hair. But he asks you on a date, mentions something about a carnival. “Yes,” you respond right away, because, well.

Jimin was dreamy. Maybe he’d be a good boyfriend.

#bangtanhq #networkbangtan #jimin smut #park jimin smut #pjm #park jimin #jimin x reader #jimin x reader smut #park jimin x reader #park jimin x reader smut #bts smut #bangtan smut #mine

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marauderundercover · 4 years ago

Text

Taking Chances Ch. 19: Lack of Communication (Wayne Gala)

AO3

The shrill ringing of her phone tugs Marinette from her sewing machine. Glancing at the caller ID, she grins widely.

“Hey Uncle Jagged.” She says, pushing her chair away from her desk. It’d been a couple weeks since she last heard from the man as his tour had really picked up at the end. It was practically back to back concerts, so that didn’t leave a lot of time for phone calls or face times.

“Little Rocker! Glad I caught you. I have an event next week and I was hoping I could drop by the bakery so you could fix a tear in one of my suits.” He says. Marinette winces. That’s what she was supposed to do. Tell Uncle Jagged about...well, everything.

“Yeah, about that…” She trails off, wishing she’d thought to tell him about the whole ‘adopted’ thing the last time she’d seen him in person. “I’m actually not in Paris right now. I’m in Gotham spending the summer with my birth father.” She says, deciding to just rip the bandaid off. There’s silence for a minute. Then two. She looks down at the phone, frowning. Did he hang up?

“You’re in Gotham?” He finally says.

“Yup.” She says, sighing. “I’m really sorry I won’t be able to fix your suit.”

“What, no, this is great! See the event is in Gotham! It’s just a bunch of rich people and- hold on. Penny!” He yells. She catches bits and pieces of their conversation, Penny agreeing wholeheartedly with whatever it is Jagged has suddenly decided. “I have a rocking idea.” He adds.

“Okay? I’m listening.” She says, glancing at the new dress she’d started that was pinned on her dress form. She was having trouble with the shape and was quickly getting frustrated with her struggles.

“You could come with! As MDC, of course. You could wear one of your designs and get known in Gotham. The event is supposed to be highly publicized. Penny thinks it’d be a good way to get known in the US. So, whatdya say?” Jagged asks, and Marinette can just tell that he’s grinning widely, can hear it in his voice. She thinks for a minute, glancing at the dress form with a new sense of determination.

“I’ll have to double check with my dad.” She says, trying to think if they had any plans for next week.

“Of course! Let me know soon, okay? Penny says she wants to start publicizing MDC’s appearance if you’re gonna come.” Jagged says. Marinette agrees before hanging up, thinking. Would her dad let her go alone? Or would he insist on coming with? She knew Gotham was dangerous, it’s why she hadn’t gone anywhere by herself despite being a hero herself. She didn’t want to risk her Miraculous falling into the wrong hands, even if the person didn’t realize what they had. Making up her mind, she sets off to find her dad and ask about the event. She still wasn’t quite sure what it was, just that there would be plenty of big names and plenty of journalists- the perfect opportunity to build up a clientele outside of France. Checking his study first, she’s unsurprised to see he’s not there. Knowing chances were good that he was in the cave, she pulls a domino mask out of her purse. Her dad had asked her a couple days ago to wear one in the cave just in case they had unexpected visitors. Kinda like how her and Chat Noir had shown up unexpectedly that one time. Complete accident. Changing the time on the clock, she presses the button that opens the entrance, sliding in and walking through the passage. Glancing into the cave, she grins when she sees her dad, in costume, sitting at the computer.

“Hey B!” She says, knowing not to call him Dad while he was in the cowl. Something about it making him seem less intimidating, or something.

“Ladybird.” He nods. She frowns, glancing at the computer screen and wincing when she sees Superman on screen.

“Sorry, I didn’t know you were busy.” She apologizes, waving awkwardly at the man on the screen. He quirks an eyebrow.

“Hello. Ladybird, was it?” He asks and she nods.

“Er, yeah. Ladybird. Nice to meet you.” She says, rocking back and forth on her heels, eyes darting around the cave. Maybe she should just leave and ask later.

“Is everything alright?” Her dad asks, obviously confused at her presence in the cave. Not that she wasn’t allowed, she just didn’t spend a lot of time there.

“I was just wondering if I could go to an event next week with my Uncle.” She says, trying to stay vague. He’s silent for a moment before nodding.

“We can discuss details later, but that should be fine.” He says. Marinette grins, bouncing up and down in excitement.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” She cheers, resisting the urge to hug him. “Bye Mr. Superman!” She adds, waving before running back through the passage to work on her dress some more. This was going to be amazing!

---

Penny had picked Marinette up early the morning of the Gala. She still wasn’t sure what it was for, but that didn’t bother her. She was just excited that she had finally finished her newest dress in time for the Gala. Penny had insisted on her coming over early so that she could help Marinette do her hair and makeup, which she was thankful for. Selina apparently had something to do tonight and couldn’t help her, and she would’ve definitely been her first choice. Smiling down at her dress, Marinette looks at Penny with a grin.

“Could you take a picture for me without my face covering so I can show my parents later?” She asks. Penny nods, smiling back.

“That dress is amazing, Marinette. Truly one of your best designs.” She says. Marinette blushes at the compliment before smiling at the camera. She thanks Penny and takes her phone back, sending the picture to her Maman and Papa as well as her dad and Selina. She was extremely proud of the dress and wanted them to see her in it before she added her ‘disguise’ to protect her identity.

“Hey, Aunt Penny?” Marinette says, looking up at the woman. Penny hums, putting on lipstick. “What is the event for? All Jagged said was that it’s a Gala.” She says, Penny huffs.

“Of course that man didn’t give you any other information. Honestly, sometimes- you agreed without knowing what the event was?” She says, eyebrows raised. Marinette shrugs.

“Uncle Jagged said that it’d be fun. I trust him.” She says. Penny sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“Remind me to read any contracts before you sign them, okay sweetie?” She says. Marinette nods and Penny smiles. “Good. Anyway, it’s a Wayne Gala. The family hosts several every year to help raise money for the Wayne foundation.” Penny says and Marinette freezes. Wayne Gala? As in, her father? Her family? Were they really having a Gala tonight without telling her? Or inviting her? Were they….were they embarrassed by her?

“Like, Bruce Wayne?” Marinette manages to ask, trying hard to ignore the way her heart breaks when Penny nods. That was why Selina couldn’t help her. She had to get ready for the Gala. And if she had to guess, the rest of her family was also going. What would they have done with her if she hadn’t had plans? Would they have told her then? Or would they have acted like nothing was happening. Where even was the Gala? Oh my god. It was at the Manor, wasn’t it. The thought strikes her and she winces, giving Penny a small, tense smile.

“Are you okay?” She asks, obviously concerned. Marinette nods sharply.

“Yes, one last question. Where is it?” She asks. Penny frowns, obviously not believing that Marinette was okay, but luckily not pushing it.

“Wayne Manor. The Galas are the only time the manor is opened to other celebrities. The family is usually very private.” Penny says. Marinette huffs out a puff of air, working hard to ignore the hurt in her chest. The feeling that she wasn’t enough. That they didn’t need her. Suddenly, she wasn’t excited anymore. She really wished she would have asked Jagged for more details last week, because now she was stuck going. And it was going to suck.

---

Feeling confident in her design and disguise, Marinette walks through the wall of journalists with Penny and Jagged at her sides. She was working hard to push down the intrusive thoughts that were threatening to take over. Instead, she tried to focus on the questions being called out by the journalists.

“Jagged! Jagged Stone, is this really MDC?” One of them asks. Jagged immediately stopping and shooting the reporter a wide smile.

“Of course it is! She designed all three of these outfits.” He says, gesturing between the trio. “Isn’t she rocking!”

“MDC, why did you pick the Wayne gala to make your first public appearance?” Another journalist asks. Marinette turns to Penny, trusting her to answer the question. They’d agreed before leaving the car that it was best if Marinette didn’t speak directly to any journalists. It would make it easier for them to place her age and where she’s from, given her accent.

“She was in the area and Mr. Stone insisted his favorite designer needed a chance to flaunt her skills in America.” Penny says, flashing the journalist a wide smile before gently pushing Marinette along down the line of journalists. Marinette nods to the man who’d asked the question before following Jagged and Penny closely, her stomach churning as they walk up the front steps of the manor. Of the place she’d been living since summer started. Where apparently they didn’t care to tell her about one of the biggest family events of the year. No big deal. She thought they were accepting her, that they were all getting closer. But maybe not. Her dad not telling her didn’t hurt nearly as much as her brothers not telling her. That felt like a knife in her chest. Trying hard to move gracefully instead of tensely, she follows Jagged into the manor and into the ballroom. Her jaw clenches as she spots her family across the room.

“Mr. Stone, I’m Clark Kent. Nice to meet you.” A man with a notebook and camera says, walking over and extending a hand. Marinette narrows her eyes. She thought the journalists were supposed to stay outside. And this man looked oddly familiar….

“Rocking meeting you man! You a journalist?” He asks, his calculating look hidden by a wide grin. Mr. Kent chuckles.

“Yes, sorry for being so forward. Mr. Wayne and I are friends, so he lets my wife and I have an exclusive pass to come inside the Galas.” He says, glancing at Marinette over his glasses. She watches as his eyes widen slightly before he schools his features back into a neutral expression.

“That’s pretty rock n roll of him!” Jagged says, clapping Mr. Kent on the shoulder.

“It is. Pardon me, but are you MDC?” He asks, turning to look at Marinette once again. She glances at Penny, shaking her head to let her know that she’ll speak for herself for this one. As upset as she was with her dad, he obviously trusted this man. So she would as well.

“I am. Pleasure to meet you, Monsieur Kent.” She says, extending her hand. He smiles, shaking her hand.

“And you, ma’am. I must say, I was not expecting to see you here. I was under the impression that in person events weren’t your forte.” He says, clearly fishing for something. She knew how journalists worked, she’d seen Alya at work enough times to understand that the man in front of her was looking for a story. One she wouldn’t be giving, no matter how much her father trusted the man.

“I like to occasionally surprise people.” She says, waving her hand in a noncommittal way. “Keep them on their toes.”

“I can respect that. Well, I’ll let you all get back to your evening. Nice to meet you all.” He says. She nods back at him, not missing the way he immediately darts off to her dad. She watches as the two start talking, a surprised look on her dad’s face before he turns and sees her. She knows he recognizes the dress. Knows that he knows as well who is underneath the veil. She turns, deciding to ignore him. He didn’t want her here, fine. She’d make sure she stayed out of his way.

---

Clark Kent was confused. He’d known that Bruce must have another kid, adopted in some way. He didn’t just work with random vigilantes, especially not in his city. So knowing that Gotham had a new vigilante named Ladybird, he put two and two together. Didn’t take the world’s greatest detective. But what was confusing was the fact that no new faces showed up with the Waynes as they walked into the ballroom for the Gala. Making a note to ask him about it later, Clark makes his way around the room, talking to familiar faces and names, writing things down that would help the story he was being forced to write on the Gala. These events were not his favorite to cover, hardly anything ever happened. Until he heard the commotion outside, other journalists calling out to MDC. He blinks in surprise. MDC had never made a public appearance before. This was an odd one to choose. Preparing himself to confront the designer, he’s surprised as she walks in behind Jagged Stone. He’s even more surprised when he realizes she had to be a teenager. He chats with the girl and Jagged, glancing down at her over the top of his glasses, shock immediately flooding him. The girl had injuries. Hundreds of them. Bones fused back together haphazardly. Quickly excusing himself, he rushes over to Bruce.

“Do you know who MDC is? Because that girl is definitely younger than Tim. And she has hundreds of injuries, Bruce. Hundreds.” He says quietly, watching as Bruce turns and glances at the girl, his eyes widening slightly.

“Shit.” He mutters.

“What?” Clark asks, trying to figure out if he should also be concerned. Bruce smiles, but it's tense.

“That is my daughter.” He says. Clark blinks.

“That’s the new one? Why didn’t she show up with the rest of the family?” He asks.

“I knew she had plans for tonight, so I didn’t tell her about the Gala. I was going to warn her about it, if she didn’t have plans. So she knew to stay in her room.” Bruce explains. Clark frowns.

“You were going to keep her locked up?” He asks incredulously. Not even the least social Wayne was kept locked away for the Galas.

“Of course not. It’s just- she hasn’t said she wants to be announced yet. She hasn’t even said anything about being MDC because she hates the spotlight. I couldn’t just throw her to the sharks. I’m just trying to do what’s best for her.” Bruce says, standing up straighter. Clark sighs.

“Did you actually talk to her about it? Or did you just assume?” He asks, Bruce huffs.

“I think I know my daughter a little more than you do, Kent.” He says.

“Really? Because from here it sounds like she’s about two breaths away from a panic attack. And Penny Rolling keeps reassuring her that they don’t have to stay long. Oh- and now she’s apologizing for not telling her it was a Wayne Gala until today, but she’s also clearly confused as to why it’s upsetting her. And now-”

“Okay, I get it.” Bruce snaps, cutting him off. Clark raises an eyebrow.

“I’m not sure what happened, but you should fix this.” He says with a pointed look before walking away. God knows the Bats all need a push in the right direction every now and again.

---

Jason frowns as he looks around the room for Marinette. He knew that she hadn’t come with the family, B hadn’t explained that one. But he had heard that MDC was there. And he wanted to talk to her, make sure she was doing okay. These things were annoying as hell and he knew he wouldn’t get through it if he didn’t have his brothers (even if they were little shits). He finally spots her near a wall, clearly trying to disappear. He grins widely, walking over and grinning at her.

“Well, MDC, fancy seeing you here.” He teases with a wink. He watches her for some kind of reaction, frowning when he doesn’t get one. “Pix?” He says, softer this time as he looks at his baby sister.

“Oh, that’s right, I wasn’t supposed to be here, was I? Well, sorry to disappoint.” She snaps bitterly. Jason flinches back, surprised at her tone.

“What’re you talking about?” He asks, eyebrows furrowed. Why did she sound so hurt? Why did she think they didn’t want her there?

“Clearly I’m not as much of the family as I thought I was.” She hisses under her breath. He starts to deny that, but she cuts him off with a humorless laugh. “Bruce didn’t even tell me that there was a Gala. None of you did either. A Wayne family Gala and I wasn’t told. I should’ve known better.” She says, turning to walk away. He grabs her wrist gently, stopping her.

“I promise you, we want you here. Dick, Damian, Tim, me- we all want you here. I can’t speak for B, I’ll definitely be having words with the son of a bitch later, but we want you here.” He says, frowning as he listens to her sniffle under her veil. “Pixie, we thought you knew. He told us you weren’t ready to come to this. I swear to you, we would have told you if we knew. I swear.” He adds. His heart breaks as he hears a hiccupped sob break free from her. He wants nothing more than to wrap his baby sister in a hug, but he knows he can’t. Media’d have a field day.

“Really?” She asks in a small voice. Jason nods.

“Hell yeah Pix. Tell ya what, I’m gonna go get the others and then we’re all gonna sneak out. Take one of the old man’s cars and get some garbage fast food. Who needs this lameass party anyway.” He says, hoping she’ll agree. He’ll let himself be mad at Bruce later. And boy was he gonna be mad. The old man had really fucked up this time. It was one thing to ask Mari to not go to the Gala, or to think she wasn’t ready for it. It was a completely other thing to not even give her the chance to decide, or tell her at all. Cause now she was hurt and thinking everyone hated her. Well, he wasn’t gonna let that happen. Not on his watch.

“Lemme just go tell Jagged and Penny real quick.” She agrees, scurrying off. The second she walks away Jason lets his smile drop into a scowl. That son of a bitch. Storming over to his brothers, he tugs them over to the wall. Better not to let B get word of where they’re going.

“What is the meaning of this?” Damian asks with a scowl.

“Pixie’s gonna tell her Aunt and Uncle that she’s leaving and then we’re stealing one of B’s cars to go to McDonalds.” He says simply. Tim frowns.

“And we’re doing this because?” He prompts.

“Because B apparently didn’t tell the kid about the Gala. And she assumed we knew, and that we all hate her.” Jason explains with a frown.

“Father said she didn’t want to attend.” Damian says, and Jason huffs.

“Yeah, well apparently he lied. She had no clue that the event she was going to as MDC was a Wayne Gala.” He says.

“I’ll go get the car and pull it up front.” Dick says, a determined look on his face. Sometimes his ‘we’re a family and we stick together’ shit annoyed the hell outta Jason, but he was thankful for it today.

“I’m gonna go grab Selina’s coat for her to put on. I saw her dress, and if any MDC fan sees her leaving with us it’s gonna start a media circus.” Tim says, walking away to the coat room. Jason sighs, watching Marinette from across the room. A cleared throat beside him tugs his attention back to his youngest brother.

“What?” He asks, pushing his frustration down. He’d go shoot something later, but right now he was determined to not take his frustration at Bruce out on his siblings.

“Why would Father intentionally keep her from the Gala? She is far more adept at social interaction than I am.” Damian says with a frown. Jason sighs, shrugging.

“No clue. But I’m not about to let her push herself away from the rest of us just because B fucked up.” He says, watching as she walks over to the wall, almost disappearing in the shadows. He nods towards her, making sure Damian follows. The second Tim has Selina’s coat, their small group is off, sneaking out one of the side doors and walking past the journalists, sprinting to Dick and the waiting car. They all jump in and she tears the veil off her face, making Jason wince slightly at her red, puffy eyes. Dick slams on the gas, eliciting a curse from Jason and a squeal of surprise from Marinette.

“So! We broke out of that stuffy party. Where are we headed?” Dick asks, glancing in the rearview mirror to make eye contact with Jason. Jason grins.

“We go get a shit ton of junk food from McDonalds and eat it in the car. Give it the old, fast food smell that B loves oh so much.” He says. Marinette snorts, and Jason grins at her. He’d give B hell later, but for now, he was going to enjoy spending time with his siblings.

---

Bruce frowns as he glances around the Gala, not seeing his daughter. Or any of his other children. He made a mental note to talk to them later. Perhaps keeping the Gala from Marinette wasn’t his best decision.

Tag list: @maribat-bdbwm @vixen-uchiha @stainedglassm @liquid-luck-00 @jayjayspixiepop @jjmjjktth @mizzy-pop @trippingovermyfeet @queenz-z @thepaceperson @iloontjeboontje @waiting247 @laurcad123 @toodaloo-kangaroo @ritacrow-blog @deathssilentapproach-blog @kittenmywaythrulife @nerd-nowandforever @tazanna-blythe @jaybird-and-co @jumpingjoy82

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queenshelby · 4 years ago

Text

Time for Change – Part Five

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Smut

Words: 3,388

Notes: Not based on Cillian’s life. This is fiction guys!

The week following your night at the Westin with Cillian, you and Cillian caught up again, this time at a different hotel and without spending the entirety of the night together so that you wouldn’t raise any suspicions.

Then, the weekend after that, it was his birthday party and you and James were invited over to his and Danielle’s house to celebrate.

Chloe stayed with her grandmother and you were keen to see Cillian again. At the same time, you were nervous. It was the first time you were going to be around Danielle after you slept with Cillian and it certainly didn’t help that, despite your sense of clarity around everything, you were developing feelings for your brother-in-law.

The text messages between you and Cillian had become constant and not just sexual in nature. He called you daily when he could and you even met up on occasion, sometimes at the park when you both went for a run or sometimes at the local bookstore.

He was different to James. He had always been kind and you were interested in the same things. Occasionally, you would still teach the piano to his kids and he made sure that, every time you came over, Danielle wasn’t home.

When there was a chance, you kissed and held hands. You got to know him, even to the point where, when James bought Cillian a birthday present, you rolled your eyes, thinking that it was unsuitable.

‘He does not drink spirits James. Just shelf it and I will go to the bookstore and get something else for him, yeah?’ you chuckled and James looked at you somewhat confused.

‘You seem to know him well, your brother-in-law. I could almost be led to believe that you have a little crush on him’ James said, raising an eyebrow.

‘I ran into him a few times at the book store so I have an idea what he likes James. That’s all’ you explained, cheeks flushing.

‘Relax Y/N, I was just joking. I was thinking though, you know how Cillian had spoken about his holiday house down south the other time?’ James asked.

‘Yes, what about it?’ you asked.

‘Well, perhaps we can ask him for the key and get away for a weekend, just you and me. This might get you in the mood for some sexy time for a change’ James said, causing you to sigh.

‘James, we talked about this. I am just going through a few things’ you explained, not wanting to be with James in any intimate way knowing the big secret he was keeping from you.

‘It’s still about my affairs, isn’t it? You know, if you would have been more attentive as a wife and less occupied with Chloe’s needs and your job, I wouldn’t have had to cheat on you’ James said angrily, making it out to be your fault.

‘So, it’s my fault you fucked your secretary and knocked her up?’ you asked angrily.

‘How did you know?’ James wondered.

‘I just do James. It’s for another time to discuss. Not today. Today, I will pretend to be a happy wife and we will go to my step sister’s house for the party. Then tomorrow, we will talk about what we are going to do moving forward’ you suggested.

‘You know, this is all your fault Y/N. At least Laura gave me a child which is something you were incapable of doing. You didn’t want to fucking try going through IVF’ James then shouted angrily.

‘Because we didn’t have the money, James! And money is what keeps you here now, by my side, isn’t it? You don’t want to pay support for Chloe and me and you don’t want to miss out on my inheritance. Is that it? Because if you leave me, you don’t get anything’ you yelled at him as, suddenly, you had to reach for the corner of the kitchen bench as a wave of nausea washed through your body.

‘Chloe isn’t my daughter, nor is she yours. I have a daughter now and you can’t have children, which is probably for the better because, obviously, you are delusional and self-centred, blaming me for what happened instead of yourself’ James yelled, holding onto your shirt tightly and angrily.

‘Oh, I am self-centred?’ you barely managed to say before pushing his hand away and making your way to the downstairs bathroom rather quickly.

As soon as you walked through the door, you dropped to the floor and leaned over the toilet.

‘Jesus Christ’ you huffed as another bound of nausea overcame you and you emptied your breakfast into the toilet.

Just as you were in the bathroom, you heard the front door of the house close shut and you realised that James had left, which was probably for the better.

‘This fucking sushi place’ you growled to yourself, regretting your takeaway choice for the previous night before quickly brushing your teeth and making your way to the bookstore.

***

At around 7 o’clock that night, you arrived at Cillian’s and Danielle’s house without James by your side.

When Danielle enquired about James’s whereabout, you informed her that he would arrive a little later and so he did.

She could sense that you had been fighting and was quick to offer you a drink, which you gladly accepted.

After wishing Cillian a happy birthday and giving him his present, you socialised with Danielle and her friends and, every time you spoke to her, you felt guilty about what you were doing.

Yet, you couldn’t help but glance over towards Cillian on numerous occasions. He looked incredible and you loved seeing him smile.

Danielle, however, seemed unhappy and a mutual friend by the name Natalie eventually asked her what was wrong.

‘I think Cillian is seeing someone’ Danielle said quietly.

‘Oh god Jesus Danielle, not again, please’ Natalie said, being well aware of the constant allegations and fights they were having. ‘Just because you cheated doesn’t mean he did’ she then said, causing you to almost choke on your wine.

‘You did what?’ you asked surprised. This was the first you heard of it.

‘It was many years ago Y/N. Cillian knows and he forgave me. He was always away and I struggled with the kids and…’ Danielle went on to explain and you couldn’t stop yourself from laughing.

‘What is so funny? We all make mistakes’ she said and you couldn’t help but shake your head in disbelieve.

‘Well, apparently so’ you chuckled. ‘Now, what makes you think that he is cheating on you Danielle?’ you then asked, curious as to whether her suspicions were actually warranted and whether she knew something.

‘I looked at his bank account statement and there were two hotel charges in Dublin in the past two weeks, one for the Westin and one for the Hilton’ she explained.

‘He could have just eaten there with friends Danielle, both of these Hotels have restaurants attached to them and are conveniently located near Temple Bar’ Natalie then laughed, causing Danielle to nod.

‘Yeah, probably. But, he has been acting funny lately and isn’t interested in intimacy. He doesn’t even kiss me anymore’ Danielle said.

‘You walked out on him twice in two months Danielle. Does this seriously surprise you?’ you asked, causing Danielle to shake her head just as Cillian came walking over towards you.

‘Miss Music Teacher, do you mind helping me with this?’ Cillian asked you as he handed you a guitar with two broken strings.

‘What animal did this?’ you chuckled and Cillian looked over towards one of his friends, rolling his eyes as he did.

‘Right, show me where the string is and I will fix it’ you said and Cillian asked you to follow him downstairs which is where he kept all of the music instruments and accessories.

***

After you followed Cillian into the basement and he gave you quick kiss now that you had some privacy, you quickly locked the door behind you.

‘What are you doing?’ Cillian asked surprised and, without loosing any time, you moved towards him and pressed your lips onto his again for a more passionate kiss.

Your lips parted his, allowing your tongue to enter for a short moment and explore, before you broke off the kiss and moved back. You then brushed your finger over his lips in a silent hush as you started fumbling with his zipper.

‘I am giving you another birthday present’ you smirked and, whilst Cillian knew that this was wrong, especially with Danielle and James both upstairs, all he managed to do was exhale and watch as you pulled at his jeans and briefs and released him.

You gasped as his cock sprung straight up, precum already glistening on the tip.

‘Oh, I didn’t expect you to be hard already?’ you said with some excitement.

‘What can I say, I have been fantasising about you all evening, seeing you in these tight jeans’ Cillian whispered as your fingers wrapped around the shaft while your other hand cupped his balls and squeezed.

‘Have you now?’ you purred without looking away from his cock.

‘You are such a tease Y/N’ Cillian moaned as you started to stroke. Timidly at first but you quickly picked up the pace. You could tell Cillian was getting himself worked up and you knew you didn’t have much time as everyone was waiting upstairs.

Without warning, you leaned forward and took his shaft into the back of your throat, making him gasp.

‘Fuck’ Cillian groaned, no longer caring if anyone heard him. Your mouth around his cock just felt too good.

You moaned and hummed as you bobbed your head and the sound coming from your throat tickled his cock. He wasn't going to last long at this rate and he was holding back another groan as your tongue slid up and down the underside of his shaft rather seductively. Then, your lips were puckering on the tip of his cock, sucking like a vacuum before releasing him with an audible 'pop'.

‘You like that?’ you whispered, kissing the tip and looking up at Cillian with eyes full of lust but, his only reply was a nod as he ran his fingers through your hair.

The truth was that, he couldn’t remember the last time Danielle and him had sex, let alone her pleasuring him with her mouth. It wasn’t her thing and you certainly wouldn’t have pleasured James like this in recent years either. But, you couldn’t get enough of Cillian’s cock. He was just perfect and you enjoyed giving him the pleasure that he deserved.

‘You can fuck his face, I won't gag, remember?’ you eventually said with a wink, lowering your head again.

Cillian was somewhat surprised by your rather dirty request but found some reassurance when your hand came off his balls and found his hand in your hair, pushing downward, encouraging him to stop holding back.

Taking the hint, Cillian bunched your hair up in his fist and slammed his hips upward, bottoming out in your throat with a wet gurgle. You held there for a moment before pulling back with a gasp.

‘Again’ you moaned, excited by how he had his way with you and, just as you requested more, he forced your head back down on his cock.

‘Fuck Y/N, that’s it’ Cillian groaned, plunging his cock in and out of your plump lips over and over again now while your hand was back to squeezing his balls.

‘So fucking good’ Cillian groaned as he took from you what he needed and he couldn't hold on any longer. With one last violent thrust he held your head down and exploded, coating your throat with his seed.

Cillian could feel you swallowing as you moaned and squeezed his balls some more, milking him of every last drop before letting go off his cock and wiping your mouth.

‘Now give me the string for the guitar before anyone files a missing person’s report’ you winked as you stood up and Cillian zipped up his jeans.

***

When you came walking back upstairs, you noticed how drunk James was which didn’t surprise you after the fight you had earlier that day.

Tipsy and in a good mood, he walked over towards you and, just as you took a sip from your wine to flush down the remnants of what you had just done to Cillian in the basement, he took the glass out of your hand and gave you a kiss.

Cillian looked over to you, his eyes widening and chin dropping. He couldn’t help but laugh.

‘James, you are drunk’ you pointed out, pushing him off you quickly with some embarrassment.

‘I just wanted to kiss my wife, can’t I do that?’ James then said and Danielle quickly came over and handed James a glass of water.

‘You guys should stay the night, I think you can’t take him home in this condition’ Danielle suggested and, before you could decline, James agreed and accepted her offer.

‘Good, you can stay in the basement. It’s nice and warm and there is a comfy pull-out lounge and bathroom in case he gets sick’ she said and you thanked her for the offer.

Thankfully, the party didn’t last too much longer and, at around midnight, everyone had left and you made your way downstairs to see how James was coping.

Just as you walked down the last step, your phone buzzed and you received a text message from Cillian.

‘Meet me in the upstairs bathroom at 1am’ it said and you couldn’t help but giggle.

‘Okay xx’ you responded.

----------

The clock on the nightstand hit 1o’clock as you were laying on the pull-out lounge in Cillian’s basement studio with James snoring softly next to you. He had gone to sleep about half an hour ago after throwing up numerous times and you quietly made your way upstairs.

You opened the bathroom door where Cillian was already waiting for you and, without a word you met in an embrace, lips locking and tongues fighting one another in a sloppy kiss.

His chest was against yours as you backed your ass up against the vanity. His hands slid under your butt and you giggled as he lifted you off the ground, wrapping your legs around his waist and grinding your pelvis against his growing erection.

‘Are you going to fuck me?’ you whispered into his ear, your tongue tracing his ear lobe.

He answered with a nod and a groan against your neck, kissing a trail back up to your lips before pulling off your panties, which was the only thing other than a t-shirt which you were wearing.

Cillian then sat you on top of the vanity, facing him before pushing down his boxers.

Your lips never broke contact and, once he freed his cock, it sprang upward and slapped against the soaked mound between your legs.

‘Give it to me Cillian…I want you so fucking badly’ you moaned into his mouth as his hands slid up your t-shirt and cupped your breasts.

‘I've been thinking about having your cock inside of me all night’ you gasped between kisses, causing Cillian to groan.

‘Have you been thinking about fucking me too?’ you continued, your hips grinding against him, your pussy lips sliding along the length of his cock.

‘I have been. Every night, I have to go to the bathroom and make myself cum just thinking about you and how good you feel’ Cillian groaned as your hand snaked between you both and took hold of his girth, aiming it towards your dripping love hole.

‘Hmm, oh god Cillian’ you cried out as he took your cue and pushed himself into you slowly. Your body shook as you took him inch by inch.

‘Cillian, fuck’ you moaned again and almost screamed as your body convulsed against him and your back arched, fingernails digging into his chest through his t-shirt.

‘That was quick’ Cillian whispered and his hand immediately came down on your mouth, covering it as an orgasm swept through you within seconds of him entering you. This is how much you had craved him. You wanted to simply have him inside of you and were aching for him.

‘Holy shit’ you panted, pulling Cillian in for another deep kiss. While you were clawing at his chest again, he began to thrust in and out of you with short strokes and you began taking a little more each time until he hit your cervix.

Cillian could feel your pussy juices leaking onto his balls as he thrusted his hips and you moaned and shuttered as a second orgasm rolled through you after several minutes.

Cillian didn't slow this time and instead quickened his pace, thrusting into you relentlessly. Your hips were gyrating every time your bodies connected, making his cock do circles inside your pussy. It felt fucking magical and Cillian could feel his balls tightening as an orgasm approached, but he wasn't ready to finish.

‘Fuck, hold on, not yet’ he grunted, grabbing your hips and lifting you off the vanity before spinning you around.

You grinned eagerly at this and leaned forward across the vanity, wiggling your apple shaped butt in anticipation as Cillian took position behind you. As Cillian rubbed his cock against your slit you arched your back and raised your ass to give him better access and he teased you with the tip, pushing in a couple of inches before pulling out completely

‘Please Cillian, I need you to fuck me’ you begged and, just as you did, Cillian held your hips and slammed his cock all the way into you. Your bodies collided with a wet slap and you had to reach forward to brace yourself against the vanity.

‘Oh god yes fuck me Cillian’ you groaned, throwing your ass backwards to meet his thrusts while Cillian reached out and took a handful of your pony tail, pulling your head back as he pounded away. The way you would grind into the mirror in front of you every time Cillian bottomed out inside your drove him crazy and quickly brought back his orgasm.

‘Fuck Y/N, I'm gonna cum!’ he groaned.

‘Cum inside me’ you gasped, twisting to look back at him with lust filled eyes. ‘Fill my pussy and let me feel it’ you moaned.

‘Oh god, fuck Y/N’ Cillian groaned, grabbing your ass with two hands as he pulled you into him as his cock erupted inside you. He filled you with spurt after spurt of hot cum as you watched him in the mirror and wiggled your ass against him.

After he came down from his high, Cillian pulled out of you and spinned you around and once again sat you on top of the vanity before inspecting your cum dripping mound.

He stepped closer towards you and made you spread your legs wide before, without any warning, he slid two of his fingers inside you.

‘Oh shit Cillian right there! Oh fuck!’ you screamed as he pinched your g-spot. Within a minute or two of him stimulating your g-spot this way, your body quaked as one last orgasm passed through you.

Cillian held you in this position until you calmed down before pulling his fingers out with a wet slurp and brining them to your mouth.

You grinned and cleaned them up eagerly with your tongue and lips before kissing Cillian passionately, letting him taste the both of you.

‘That was...fucking amazing’ you said in between kisses and, just after your lips drifted apart, Cillian made an admission to you after a rather long and awkward pause.

‘I think that I am in love with you Y/N and I don’t know what to fucking do about it. This…all of it…it’s wrong. Yet, it’s like I can’t resist it. I need to be with you’ Cillian then said after he pulled up his boxers and let his head lean forward against your chest.

‘I feel exactly the same’ you said, causing Cillian to lift up his head and ask again.

‘So, what are we going to do about it, Y/N? We can’t go on like this’ he said and, just as he did, the bathroom door opened suddenly….

Tag List:

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#cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy imagine

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annieharkness · 4 years ago

Text

Glimpses: Part 8 (Kathryn Hahn x Fem!Reader)

Part 1 // previous chapter <<< >>> next chapter

Summary: Babysteps are taken.

Word Count: 1,8k

A/N: Hey y’all! I am really sorry it took me a while to get to this but tbh life hasn't been the easiest since I’ve last posted. I hope you all enjoy this chapter, even though it turned out completely different than I had anticipated. Definitely plan to throw another chapter your way this week. We’ll see :)

_____________________________________________________________________________

Her soft lips move against yours as Kathryn’s hand finds her way into your hair. She pulls you closer and it seems like she wants to deepen the kiss, but before she gets any chance to do so, you break the contact.

“Kathryn…“, both of you are panting and you have to hold on to her upper thigh to steady yourself. You take in a deep breath as she looks at you with widened eyes, while a worried look is creeping onto her face. She immediately lets go of your neck. Still panting, she tries to form words.

“Sweetheart, I… I am so sorry! I… Oh my god!“ Her eyes widen and she removes herself completely from you and puts a few more inches in between the two of you. “Is this…? Did we…? Are you okay?“

You nod, slowly, because you need time to process. What struck you and made you speechless wasn’t the fact that she kissed you in the first place, no, you are absolutely confused by her harsh reaction to the occurring situation. You look at her, eyes wide open, as she is sitting way too far away from you and looks at you like something horrible has happened.

“Kathryn, hey, I AM okay. Very much so, stop worrying. All is good!“ You take her hand in yours. “I… I loved this. This is everything I have ever dreamed of…“ “But?…“, she impatiently interrupts you and you give her the look that a mother gives her children when they repeatedly reach for a toy they are not allowed to have.

“But… This is not how I want this to go. Let me take you out on a date or something? Let’s go eat somewhere or read or talk or just sit… But not in the back of a car in the middle of the night as we are both very much not sober, hm?“ She nods and the hiccup, that escapes her throat right after you take her hand into yours again, just tells you that you’re right.

The rest of the ride is calm and quiet as Kathryn clearly is tired and overwhelmed with all the love she has gotten all night. You opt to just sit with her in silence, noticing how her body slowly falls against yours until her head lands on her shoulder. She is asleep.

You move a strand of hair behind her ear - prompting a small smile to form on her lips and it makes you feel proud that you did the grown up thing and resisted the urge to take a step further, the urge to see how far she would go, not that you could sneakily slip your hand anywhere anyway, considering she was still wearing that one-piece that was hugging her in all the right places.

Shaking your head to get rid of the thoughts that are flooding your tipsy brain right now, you realize you’ve reached your neighborhood right as the car slows down on the side walk. Peter opens the window to look at you “Do you want me to take you directly to your house or do you want to walk the rest of the way?“

You really appreciate how considerate he is, but you have to tell your mom eventually anyway, so you opt for the safer option. “Take me directly home, please.“ He nods and his eyes wander to Kathryn, who is still asleep on your shoulder. “You’re good for her, I hope you know that.“, Peter says before closing the window again.

“YOU DID WHAT?“ You haven’t seen your best friend enraged like that ever before. “YOUR./NAME… YOU DID WHAT NOW?

Telling her that you were the one who broke off a kiss with Kathryn was probably not your smartest idea in a while. When you got home last night, you went straight to bed, but texted Alex that you were gonna call her as soon as you woke up to give her all the tea.

“I… I broke the kiss?“ You repeat and look at her, scared she will yell at you again.

“Honey! How??? Why? This could’ve very well been a one in a lifetime chance!“ She is not mad or anything, more shocked because she knows how much you’ve wanted this.

You look at her and both of you become serious for a moment. “It wasn’t right. We had too much to drink. I know she wanted it. We’ve had moments before, but… I just didn’t feel right, Alex. I don't know how to explain. Don’t get me wrong, I was into it, very much so, but I want the real deal. Not a car fling, you know?“ “You really are the most amazing person I’ve ever met. I hope she knows how fortunate she is to know someone as respectful as you.“ It still felt unusual to talk about Kathryn that way. Even to your best friend. Even though you know you share everything with Alex that is there to share. Kathryn was Kathryn and you were… just you. But somehow, when the two of you are together, that doesn't matter at all. You don’t think about who she is when you are with Kathryn.

Right as you think about her, your phone lights up and you receive a message.

„Sweetheart, I really enjoyed having you around last night! Can’t wait to do it again. Packed week ahead, sadly, but would like to invite you to my garden again by the end of it? xxx K.“

For a moment, you smile and already want to text back, but you had read the message out to Alex as well and she doesn’t want you to text back just yet. “Can’t wait to do it again?“, she says. “Like as in the kiss or as in the night, well I mean the day, in general? DUDE. That’s huge!“ You hadn’t thought about it that way. Alex was wild sometimes. She would come up with things that you haven’t considered yet, but not always in a good way. Sometimes, she drops knowledge on you until your anxiety kicks in and she doesn’t even notice. Not this time, though.

This time, Alex’ remark only makes your chest swell with pride because, either way, it was a huge compliment. You let Kathryn know that you feel the same and you would love to visit her again.

The following week seems to be endless but somehow you make your way through it, especially with a Q&A that was announced Sunday night and would happen today. Kathryn is booked to watch an episode of her latest show Wandavision with some cast members on something like Zoom, where they can be seen by fans around the globe to promote upcoming shows and increase streams.

She had texted you a selfie earlier, and captioned it with how she was missing your compliments while getting ready, with a wink, of course, and you that made you even more excited to see her later.

The event itself is cute, hundreds of fans are online and even though you can’t see the other fans, you all can feel the unity and love towards the cast. You’re sitting on your desk, laptop propped up in front of you with the stream, while you are FaceTiming Alex who stayed awake for the event like she always does.

“Kathryn is just soooo beautiful tonight.“ Alex swoons, as you watch her staring at the stream. Kathryn does look great. Her blue eyes are highlighted by the blue button up shirt she is wearing and her hair is loosely hanging down one side. Ben really outdid himself with tonight’s look. She smiles at something Lizzie says and they both laugh as they watch the scene where Agatha and Wanda are in the kitchen together.

“Many mouths make good gossip.“ Alex laughs and you can see Kathryn grin in the corner of your eyes as you look at her best friend. “Have you told her she looks beautiful yet?“

It was a logical question. Shooting her a message would be so easy and yet, you haven’t thought of it yet. You shake your head.

“Gurl! Take your phone and text her, NOW! Let’s gooooooo.“ She was right. You had the perfect chance right there and you were sure Kathryn would not be looking at her phone anytime soon. Most likely, she would only see your message after the event, so you decide to go for it after all.

“Looking really good tonight, Ms Hahn. ;)“ you finally type. It took you a couple tries and you reworded the message several times, trying to figure out what tone would fit best. After deleting the previous ideas, you just want to not send anything at all, but as you reread your final words , you feel satisfaction and that makes you decide to shoot your shot after all.

Ales notices our internal struggle “Y/N! Send that freaking message NOW.“ You know she would take your phone and just press send if she was with you and you want this friendship to feel a little less distant tonight, so you immediately press send.

Immediately, the both of you keep your eyes on the stream to not miss any possible reactions and you were wrong. Kathryn actually does have her phone with her and you can tell she notices a message because she looses attention for a second and looks to her left.

You can tell she rethinks if she should pick up her phone or not, but before you can worry about the whole situation more, she reaches out for her phone and reads. The smile on her face is telling. She tries to tone the smile down but it still creeps onto her face on one side. You’re not sure, but you would also say that there is a little blush around her nose that you think is adorable and makes a warm feeling bubble up in your body. OH NO.

Shortly, she looks directly at the camera with the softest smile, before putting the phone back aside and giving her attention back to the cast and episode.

“JACKPOT!“ Alex celebrates an early win. „She loved it! See! Aaaaargh, I am SO GOOD AT THIS.“

You roll your eyes. “You have a wife, honey, OBVIOUSLY you are.“

And while the two of you laugh about your antics and virtually high five because messaging Kathryn was a success, the other fans on twitter are already freaking out about the mysterious message Kathryn has gotten and who it might've been from.

#Kathryn hahn #kathryn hahn x reader #Kathryn Hahn fan fiction #kathryn hahn x you #groupie #groupie au

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eliemo · 5 years ago

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See Yourself Through My Eyes

Summary: Virgil severely misunderstands Roman’s intentions. They both have a lot to work on...but they’re helping each other.

Notes: Yes I’m writing prinxiety immediately after that episode. Enjoy some gays.

Virgil was pretty sure there wasn’t a single person in the world who didn’t know about his feelings for Roman.

Logan definitely knew, because Logan somehow knew everything, and Patton was less than subtle about his support or dreaded pity whenever Roman would inevitably brush Virgil off or call him a name during a video.

There was no way Thomas didn’t at least suspect something. Virgil was a part of him, after all, and he was much more attuned with the aspects of his personality than he gave himself credit for.

That meant, of course, that Roman also knew.

Honestly, Roman probably knew before Virgil did. He was the romantic side, always looking for signs of love and affection and passion. Well, looking for it anywhere other than Virgil. Obviously.

And that was fine. Virgil had learned to accept it a long time ago that his feelings were just...common knowledge that would never be acted upon.

The fact that Roman knew made him anxious sometimes, and earlier on it had certainly kept him awake at night, but he had to admit there was some relief in that knowledge.

Roman knew that Virgil was helplessly head over heels for the Prince, and had never once acted any awkward or disgusted around him. They were friends now, the two of them making an effort to get to know each other after Virgil revealed his name, and that was fine with him. Friendship was more than Virgil had ever dared to hope for.

It hurt a little, sure. Even if it had never been brought up, it was still rejection all the same. And the eyebrow raises from Logan and sympathetic frowns from Patton didn’t help matters either.

But he’d get over himself. He still loved what he had, the Prince’s company and smiles and squeezes to his hand after a long day.

It was more than enough.

Now though...now Virgil was trying to ignore the fact that something was wrong.

He knew the others well enough by now to pick up on when they were acting differently, doubled by the fact that he was Anxiety- it was quite literally his job to look out for any little signs that he’d done something wrong or someone was upset.

Roman was working on something new. Virgil knew that glint in his eye, the spark of an idea forming, the air of excitement he carried with him. But it was a bit different this time. He hadn’t mentioned anything outright and he seemed almost...uneasy about whatever it was.

Logan and Patton were obviously in on it. Patton did an awful lot of giggling which earned a stern look and an eye roll from Logan, and more than once the three of them had abruptly stopped their conversation when Virgil had walked into the room.

So needless to say, by the time things came to a head, Virgil was already a jumpy, anxious mess waiting for the shoe to drop, for someone to just hurry up and chew him out for doing something wrong.

He’d really thought he’d been doing well. He’d been trying to at least. Thomas was ahead of schedule, and Virgil had been careful to let him unwind and relax when he needed it.

It was three days into the strange behavior, the sun beginning to set into the paling gray sky when Virgil left his room in search of the others, hoping he was still welcome for a movie night or family meal.

Roman was sitting on the couch, alone in the living room, fidgeting restlessly and drumming his fingers along his crossed legs.

When he saw Virgil, the Prince’s eyes practically lit up as he leapt to his feet, and Virgil resolutely ignored the familiar swoop in his stomach.

“There you are!” Roman exclaimed, quickly adjusting his sash and running his fingers through his hair. “I was going to come up and get you but I- well I didn’t want to bother you if you were busy.”

Virgil really hoped his blush wasn't as obvious as he thought it was. He shrugged, hands stuffed in his pockets. “I’m, uh, I’m not busy. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong! I just want to talk to you about something!”

That still very much sounded like something was wrong, and he felt his anxiety rise, squeezing shaky hands into fists, but it was hard to completely dread anything when Roman was looking at him so eagerly.

“Yeah, ok,” he said. “Go for it.”

Roman looked...nervous. Virgil halfheartedly thought about telling the Prince he was stealing his brand.

But Roman was talking before Virgil could work up the courage to tease him.

“Virgil,” he started. “I...well first of all I wanted to thank you for giving me a second chance. I know we don’t always see eye to eye but...I’ve truly enjoyed being able to call you a friend these last months.”

Virgil blinked, not quite sure what to say, struggling to think around the butterflies in his stomach. “Oh. Uh, yeah. You too.”

God, he was so useless.

“I’m glad!” Roman cleared his throat, wringing his hands together before continuing. “But...well, lately I’ve...I’m not even quite sure how to say this to be honest. I mean, it’s my job to be good at this but...you make me nervous, I suppose.”

Virgil made him nervous?

“Spit it out, Princey,” he said with a small smile, hoping to convey that the longer he stalled, the more nervous they would both inevitably get. If Virgil had hurt him or done something wrong, he needed to know. “Did I...Do something?”

“What? No! Of course not.” Roman took a breath. “It’s...well, I’ll just come out and say it. I believe I’ve caught feelings for you, Virgil. Romantic feelings, if that...if that wasn’t clear. I- er, thought about a more grand declaration but I...figured you wouldn’t like that.”

For a second, everything froze, Virgil’s pounding heart stopping in his chest. And then the giddy feeling in his stomach was gone, butterflies replaced with cold dread as the pieces fell together.

It made sense now. The planning when he was away, the conversations abruptly stopping, the nervous excitement, side glances, and laughter…

Everyone was in on it. Because everyone knew about his feelings, everyone knew it wasn’t mutual and that Virgil had accepted that, so everyone thought it would be ok to toy with his heart a bit. They thought it’d be funny.

“It’s- it’s totally fine if you don’t feel the same!” Roman said quickly, eyes widening at the lack of a response, and Virgil’s heart only broke further. “Seriously I- I don’t want to make things awkward or ruin our friendship--”

“No, I do,” Virgil said, because what the hell was the point in denying it? Everyone knew. It just wasn’t...talked about. At least, he’d thought they all had the decency not to talk about it. “You know I have feelings for you, Roman.”

He stared at the ground, at his socked feet on the carpet, refusing to look up and see the fake excitement Roman had plastered on for the sake of a prank.

“You do?” he heard the Prince say. “You do! Oh- that’s...that’s good! Right? So...so what are we--”

“Why are you doing this?”

Virgil knew he and Roman hadn’t always gotten along, and they still bickered occasionally, but he hadn’t thought...he’d never thought he would be so cruel.

“I...huh?”

“Why are you doing this?” Virgil repeated, finally raising his head just to try and catch Roman’s smirk, rewarded only with the other’s confusion. “Did you...what, did you all think this would be funny?”

“What? No!” Roman sounded incredulous, confusion morphing to something a bit more angry. “Dude, I’m confessing.”

“Yeah, sure.” Virgil hunched his shoulders, turning away to frantically scan the room. “Where is it? Where’s the camera?”

“Camera?” the Prince echoed. “Wh- you think this is a prank?”

“Of course it's a prank!” Virgil hadn’t meant to get worked up, but honestly could they blame him for getting angry? Did they think he was just going to stand here and take his heart getting broken? “I don’t know why you all thought this would be funny. Yeah, I get it, I’m an asshole. Doesn’t mean you guys have to--”

“You’re not an asshole,” Roman said, and Virgil scoffed, squeezing his eyes shut because he was not going to cry. “Virgil. You’re not. Why...why do you think this is a prank? Why can’t I just...like you?”

“Because I know you don’t feel the same, ok? I know we never talked about it but it’s pretty fucking obvious. And that’s fine. Or it- it was fine until you decided to treat my feelings like some big joke. What, is it because I’m Anxiety? Am I still just some dark brooding villain who can’t possibly experience real love so why not make a stupid video about it? Is that it?”

He took a breath, still refusing to open his eyes, willing himself to calm down, to stop talking, and get out of the situation as quickly as he could.

“Sorry, I’m...I didn’t mean to say all that,” he muttered. “Just...god, please don’t upload this. Please.”

Somewhere along the way his voice had fallen into nothing more than a pathetic whisper, but right now he really didn’t care. Virgil couldn’t see himself leaving his room for the next couple days at least.

“I’m not recording this, Virge,” Roman said, and he sounded painfully genuine. “I swear I’m not. We can go somewhere else, if you want me to prove it. I promise there’s no camera.”

Virgil’s shoulders dropped, and he relented with a shaky sigh. “Alright. So then...is this just for fun? Did I piss you off somehow?”

“No. God, no Virgil I would never…” he trailed off, pausing for just a few seconds. “I didn’t know you felt the same. I had no idea.”

That got Virgil to open his eyes, snapping his head up and fully expecting to see a joking smile and bright eyes. Instead, Roman’s expression was sad and genuine, and a bit guilty.

“What?” Virgil asked. “You...Roman, everyone knows. Literally everyone.”

“Well...I didn’t. Truly.”

Virgil blinked, momentarily at a loss because this was...there was no way. “You’re the romantic side. How could you...how?”

Roman shrugged, suddenly averting his gaze. “You didn’t know either. I’ve been taken with you for some time now, Stormcloud.”

Virgil shook his head, desperately trying to block it out, to push down that rising hope and excitement fighting its way to the surface.

Because...because no. No. It wasn’t true, it wasn’t. It didn’t make any sense. He wasn’t going to drop his defenses just to be crushed and laughed at.

“That’s different.”

“Why?” Roman asked, soft and sincere. “Why’s it different, Virgil?”

“Because...because it’s you. Obviously I’m going to fall for you, you’re- you’re perfect. You’re...talented and passionate and I’m...I’m me. You’re not going to fall for Anxiety.”

His words were met with silence, and there was a bit of relief amongst the sorrow in his chest, because if Roman didn’t have anything else to say, it meant this was over. He could just...forget about it and hopefully avoid any future teasing.

But then Roman took a step closer, Virgil forcing himself not to back up, immediately tensing up and waiting.

“But I did,” the Prince said. “I did fall for you, Virgil.”

Virgil shook his head again, looking away as Roman slowly approached, waiting for him to drop the act. “Stop it.”

“I fell for all of you,” Roman continued. “I fell for your smile, for your laugh- you have the most beautiful laugh, did you know that? I wish I could hear it more, but every time I do I feel as though everything is right in the world.”

Roman was in front of him now, one hand cupping Virgil’s cheek, and he couldn’t help but lean into the touch despite wanting to curl up into a ball and sob.

“You represent anxiety,” Roman said. “But you’re so much more. You’re brave, Virgil. I’ve seen it so, so many times. You fight against your fears, against anything that would put us in danger. You protect us. You’re strong, Virge, stronger than you give yourself credit for.”

“Please stop,” Virgil whispered, and it was such a blatant lie. He wanted this, wanted it to be real so badly. “Roman, I...I can’t--”

He couldn’t take it. If the rug was pulled out from under him now, after coming so close to what he’d always so desperately wanted...he didn’t know how he was supposed to look anyone in the eye ever again.

“I can go on,” Roman said. “And I will. I will help you see how easy you are to fall in love with if it’s the last thing I do, because you deserve to see yourself the way I see you. But I just...I need you to tell me you believe me. This isn’t a prank or a joke. I would never play with your feelings like that.”

Roman...Roman wasn’t cruel. He could get over excited, he could take a bit longer to pick up on someone’s uneasiness, he could be loud or brash, but he would never try to hurt someone he called a friend. He wouldn’t try to hurt anyone.

If this was a prank...it would have stopped by now. Right? Roman wouldn’t...he wouldn’t let it go this far.

“Virgil?” Roman’s voice was soft, hopeful, and Virgil warily met his gaze. “I love you. I really, really do.”

There was absolutely no way to stop the few stray tears that escaped at the raw emotion and adoration in those words, no way to fight against the way his breath hitched when Roman gently wiped them away with his thumb.

Virgil wanted so desperately to respond, to apologize, to warn Roman that at this point, if this all turned out to be a joke he was never leaving his room again.

But no words came out, Virgil still frozen in terror and treacherous hope. But slowly, cautiously, he reached forward to lace his fingers in Roman’s free hand.

The Prince didn’t pull away, didn’t sneer or laugh or twist his face in disgust. He just smiled, and squeezed Virgil’s hand.

“You can say no,” Roman said after a moment, never moving the hand that cupped Virgil’s cheek. He waited for Virgil to give a tiny nod before continuing. “Would it be alright if I kissed you?”

And Virgil had definitely stopped thinking at this point, fear and self loathing suddenly losing control to something else, something much more brave than anxiety.

He nodded wordlessly and before he could even blink Roman leaned forward, pressing their lips together, and Virgil felt his world melt away.

It was careful and delicate and perfect, so much better than Virgil had ever imagined, and that cold ache in his heart, the one that longed for something he could never have, melted from Roman’s warmth.

It only lasted a few seconds before Roman pulled away, but they were easily the best few seconds of Virgil’s entire life. If his heart decided to give out now, he didn’t think he would mind all that much.

Roman didn’t go far, pressing their foreheads together, and Virgil leaned into the touch, smiling when he felt Roman rub his thumb along his knuckles.

“I love you too,” Virgil blurted before he could stop himself, beyond relieved when Roman didn’t immediately shove him away. “I’m...I’m so sorry I thought--”

Roman quickly cut off the apology with another kiss, this one deeper than the first, and Virgil’s free hand instinctively moved up to grip his shirt.

“I’m not upset,” Roman assured when they pulled back. “I just...hope I can help you see how perfect you really are.”

Virgil smiled, hiding his blush against Roman’s chest as the prince wrapped his arms around him and pulled him close.

“I forgot you’re a sap,” he muttered against the red sash. “Seriously though, you can be pissed at me for yelling at you.”

“Well, I’m not. Besides, it all worked out, didn’t it? You didn’t flat out reject me which is...what I was expecting.”

Virgil extracted himself from the embrace to look up at Roman, and suddenly it was the Prince's turn to quickly look away, brows furrowed.

“Seriously?” Virgil asked. “You thought I would reject you?”

“I wasn’t always...kind to you,” Roman admitted. “And...well, I know how I am. I can be loud and annoying and you don’t always like that. I’m not...exactly an easy person to love.”

For a moment, Virgil had no idea what to say to that. He thought back to all the times he’d mulled over his feelings for Roman, envisioning all the possibilities he’d once thought were impossible.

He’d tried to talk himself out of loving the Prince in an attempt to spare himself from the heartbreak. He told himself they were too different, too incompatible. It would never work even if Roman did feel the same.

But now, seeing the Prince stare at the ground with his shoulders tense, like he was waiting for Virgil to agree and call the whole thing off...it was almost like looking in a mirror.

Maybe they weren’t so different after all.

“You’re wrong,” Virgil said, grabbing for Roman’s hands again. “So...so I guess we’re both going to help each other. To...you know. See how easy we are to love. And stuff.”

And ok, he didn’t have Roman’s elegant way with words. But that wasn’t his job, and the Prince seemed to appreciate it anyway, worried frown replaced with a timid, yet brilliant smile.

“I guess so,” Roman said, smiling never faltering, and Virgil found himself matching it. “I don’t think that’s such a bad thing.”

That was the last thing Virgil heard before being pulled into another kiss, Roman nothing but warm, welcoming, and safe, and for the first time Virgil allowed himself to let go and relax.

#sanders sides #thomas sanders #sanders asides #virgil sanders #ts virgil #roman sanders #ts roman #prinxiety #romantic prinxiety #fanfiction #angst #love confessions #misunderstandings #this is sweet and gay #gays #writing

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bunni-bino · 4 years ago

Text

Chapter One » Target

A/N : obviously my starting out isn’t going to go well but I’m sure it’ll get better, hopefully. Let’s just hope! And enjoy!

and I know I mentioned who would be included in here, but I’d like to know your thoughts if there are any characters you wish to have as love interests! :> it’s so I can confirm and get an idea.

Masterlist | Chapter Two

MULTI-BILLIONAIRE CEO PASSES ON — [LASTNAME] INC. TO FALL?

“[Name] [LastName]? I heard her father passed away last week.”

“No way, the [LastName] corporation is bound to fall without their CEO, what’s going to happen now? Is she going to take over?”

“She’s so young, I doubt they’ll hand everything to her. She doesn’t have the backbone to handle it.”

Walking past the gossiping pair, you tilt your head to the side and after a minute of walking, your shoulders relax and you heave a sigh.

“People don’t have anything better to do but gossip.” You thought, expression holding a look of disinterest, as you glance down at your necklace.

The only memory you had of your mother.

It was a simple, small and cylinder-like key, silver and hooked onto a thin silver chain. As if it was some sort of screw, in other words. Too bad you never found out what the key actually led to or unlocked.

Not like you actually looked around though.

If it wasn’t the last thing you had of your mother, you probably would’ve thrown it away by now.

Tucking the necklace inside your shirt, you make it to an ice cream stand on the street and stop in front of it, standing behind a tall ravenette.

It seems like it’ll be a while before the male would choose something though. You purse your lips and look to the side. ‘Maybe I should just go..’

“Oh, my apologies, miss. You can go on ahead, I’m actually waiting for a friend, I’m not in line.”

You look back to the male and found the freckled face smiling at you kindly. Blinking, you glance at where he was standing and where the vendor was, and felt a blush creeping up onto your cheeks. “Oh..”

‘So i’m just stupid.. idiot.’ You internally curse yourself before nodding at the tall male. “Er.. sorry. Thanks.”

He merely chuckles and waves it off, returning to his phone that was in his hand as you move ahead to the vendor behind the stand.

“What can I get ya?”

You ponder for a few seconds before stating what you wanted from the ice cream vendor. Once the salesman gets your desired ice cream, you hand the cash over to him and take the ice cream.

Gripping the fabric of your mask, you pull it down to your chin to reveal your face and lift the ice cream to your lips.

Thanking the man, you walk away and just as you proceed to take a bite, a sudden loud crash interrupts your process. ‘Gunshots?’

Screams erupt from people around, some quick to start running away, others freeze still in fear at the sight.

Before you could even do a thing, shouts are heard and running figures chasing after a speeding bike.

“Ace, it’s time to go!”

Amidst the shouts and screams, the motorbike pulls up near you and the freckled man from before is quick to hop onto the back, behind the one driving. “Marco? What happened?!”

“I’ll explain later, just get on!”

“Hey! Stop right there!”

“Don’t shoot, you can hurt the civilians!”

The blonde behind the drivers seat, his hair a little messy and half-lidded eyes, held a cigarette between his teeth clicks his tongue and revs up the gas. “Shit.. hold on!”

Just before they drove off, you made direct eye contact with the blonde for a brief second before he broke it.

With that, the bike begins to drive off with speed, the men in white-clad police uniforms with guns strapped on their backs continue to chase them before stopping in defeat once the motorcycle was out of sight.

“Damn it! We were so close to capturing one of the Whitebeard members!”

“Forget about it, we need to get back to headquarters. Let’s go.”

The men began to retreat back, you just standing still in shock at the event that just occurred and ended in like five minutes.

‘What the hell?’

Slowly biting your ice cream that was melting in your mouth and a bit on your hand, you look back at where the bike had disappeared to.

Your mind wanders back to the blonde from before. “What was with that look?.. Did he recognize me?..”

Muttering to yourself, you continue to eat your dessert, deciding to make way back to your place, before your father’s assistant could lecture you.

‘This is why I don’t leave the house.’

“Miss [Lastname], you’re back early this time.”

You plop yourself onto the couch of your living room once you made it and laid down, heaving a heavy sigh. “Yeah.”

Pulling off the black mask around your ears, you laid it on your chest and shut your eyes.

“Any particular reason?” The raspy, deep voice asks from the hall, coming into the living room and standing at the entrance, his eyes taking a look at your sprawled form on the couch.

Sitting up slightly to get a better look at the assistant, you watch him stare just as intensely back at you with his sharp dark eyes.

Axel.

The male was dressed in dress shoes, black slacks and a ironed white button up, with the sleeves pulled up to his elbows. He had rounded, silver thin framed glasses that rest just above the bridge of his nose. His tousled black hair brushed over his eyes a bit, and if you didn’t know better, you would’ve assumed Axel was a CEO owner himself.

But he was nothing but an assistant to one. Or, formerly was. You were surprised he still stuck around after your father passed.

Keeping the eye contact for a few more seconds, you shut your eyes and turn onto your side, facing the backrest of the couch. “No, just didn’t feel like receiving a lecture from you.”

The scoff that escapes his lips is heard as his footsteps come towards you.

“You deserve my lectures, you always seem to forget them.” He says, picking up the mess of magazines on the coffee table and stacking them neatly together.

“I can’t forget something I don’t bother remembering, so— ACK!”

Axel is quick to roll up one of the magazines and whack the back of your head without hesitance, a slight scowl on his lips. “Perhaps you should start remembering then!”

You sent a glare to the older male and rub your head to soothe the pain, keeping shut to prevent yourself from possibly getting even more hurt.

“Now, come on. Get dressed so we can get going to meet the lawyers.”

Furrowing your brows, you look at him in confusion, watching him place the magazines away onto the shelf. “Lawyers, what for?”

He tilts his head behind him to glance at your expression. “Your father’s will. To confirm your inheritance of his belongings so you can be given all his things.”

“Ah....” You then lay back down with force and groan out. “No way! I don’t want to handle all that! Why don’t you just take it?”

“Take everything that the owner of the [Lastname] company owns? No, thank you.” Axel mutters, pushing up his glasses with his index finger from the side.

“You don’t want it?”

“I don’t think I’m capable of handling something like that, much less when I’m not supposed to in the first place. Besides, my hands are full with taking care of a helpless, troublesome, lazy-ass toddler.”

“Oh? Who?” You smugly feign innocence whilst turning away, causing Axel to roll his eyes as he brushes a gloved hand into his black locks of hair.

“Funny. Now, if you don’t get your ass up, Miss [Lastname],” he clears his throat loudly. “We’ll be late to discuss your father’s will with the lawyers.”

“You’re so mean sometimes.. what kind of assistant are you?”

Ignoring your sulking, Axel proceeds to walk away to start the car, but not before releasing a soft sigh at the female.

“What am I going to do with you?..”

- meanwhile

With the Straw Hats Crew «

“What do you think, Luffy?”

The navigator looks to their captain on the end of the dining table, rolling up the newspaper in her hand after reading the headlines aloud.

The male was busy shoveling meat into his mouth to listen but merely nods. “Sure! *omn nom* Sounds like an adventure!”

“God, you’re hopeless...”

The archaeologist lets out a little giggle. “He never ceases to amuse.”

“If we get our hands on that treasure, we can have everything?” The long-nosed questions, crossing his arms and the taller, Afro-wearing man laughs. “Yohoho~ how exciting!”

With the Heart Crew «

“The chance to have everything you could desire..”

“Wealth, power, love..”

The big polar bear in an orange-clad jumpsuit hums. “Should we try to acquire it, Captain? It won’t be easy.”

The doctor / leader of the group leaned against the wall silently, arms crossed as he thought about it, the newspaper headlines laid across the table.

“We’ll have to come up some plans to get it, considering we’ll have to make contact with her somehow.”

With the Kid Crew «

“To get the chance to have all power and money in the world, huh?” The red-head smirks dangerously as he listens to his right hand discuss the newspaper article.

“Think this through, Kid. Won’t be easy to capture the girl, and I’m sure we aren’t the only ones looking to get this treasure.” The masked blonde warns, but the red-head wasn’t listening.

“How unfortunate for her to have to experience such a thing, but I will get my hands on her and that treasure, no matter what it takes.”

With the Whitebeard Crew «

“I see..”

The tall, older, white haired man comments as he sits in his chair, hands resting in his lap.

“We actually drove by her on our way here after the run-in with the police. Eating ice cream.” The blonde says, shifting his weight and resting a hand on his hip.

“And you’re positive it was her?” A tall orange-haired male questions, wearing a yellow foulard.

The freckled man nods, smiling a bit. “I’m sure. She stood behind me in line, thinking it was to get ice cream.” He laughs lightly at the memory.

Another voice chimes in, belonging to a rather beautiful man with a sexy deep voice. “Well, if it truly is her, I guess we won’t have to look far. Question is, how we’ll get in touch with her again.”

The older, bigger man in front merely laughs. “Not a problem, my sons. Leave it to me.”

With the Police «

“It’s a danger to have that so carelessly around, if it lands into the wrong hands, we can have a tragedy.” The rice-cracker eating leader states, arms crossed as he stares hard at the picture of the female under the headlines.

“So you intend to confront her about her father’s belongings, then?” The old man on the couch of his office asks, picking his nose with disinterest.

“E-Excuse me, sir.. but would it be in the wrong hands.. if Miss [LastName] is supposed to inherit her father’s things?..” the pink-haired male shyly asks, sweating a little bit in fear of having interrupt the two.

“We don’t know for sure, that is why I insist we should hold her here for questioning and her intentions!”

With the Revolutionaries «

“It’ll be interesting, to say the least.” The blonde with goggles around his top hat hums, a smile present on his lips as he leans back in his chair.

The brunette female with a bright smile just sighs. “Thats for sure. No doubt that everyone will be having their eyes on that one of a kind opportunity. What should we do?”

“My, my, imagine being able to wield such power! No wonder her bounty is so high in the black market! Going for over a billion beli’s!” The extravagant purple haired man exclaims. “I must meet her face to face!”

“Ah— Achoo!”

Sniffling, you rub your nose and let out a sigh, groaning slightly.

“Oi, you better not be sick, Miss [Lastname]. We don’t need you to be catching a cold at this time. I’m not going to be taking care of you.” Axel warns, eyes lingering on you and you huff in annoyance.

“Shut up, Axel..”

taglist : @deputy-videogamer

a/n : hi! I’d love to know what you think of this so far and what you think of Axel! I might post this on Quotev as well but I can’t say for sure.

So it’s not great, but not horrible, but regardless, I hope you enjoyed it! :>

not proofread-

#tooweirdforyou #one piece #one piece x reader #op x reader #x reader #op #one piece writing #Target #syd’s fic

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a-tiny-atiny · 4 years ago

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I Get Deja Vu

Have you ever felt yourself falling in love? In a way, have you felt it physically manifest itself? Has your world ever felt like it’s suddenly gotten brighter and you wake up every morning excited to see that one special person in your life who made you feel that way?

Because Mingi has. In fact, he feels it stronger and stronger every day. All because of one person: Jung Wooyoung.

Mingi is a loser.

Okay, he can practically hear his friends screaming at him for even thinking that, but it’s how he truly feels. He used to have higher self-esteem when he was a kid, but it’s long gone now. He used to feel pretty neutrally about himself (maybe even a little confident), but that all changed when a classmate of his came up to him at the playground when he was nine and pointed out his small eyes and crooked teeth, and everyone else laughed.

He never thought about those parts of his face before. He really never looked at himself for more than a few minutes in the mirror while conducting his daily routine before school and before bed, but it made him wonder if he should have spent that time looking at himself more carefully.

When he thought about it, his eyes were smaller than the other kids’. He didn’t think it was a bad thing before, everyone in his family has smaller eyes, but since his classmate pointed it out and everyone laughed, it must be a bad thing. Same with his teeth.

He still looks in the mirror every morning and inspects his small eyes and crooked teeth as though staring at them for long enough will cause them to “fix” themselves into something more conventionally attractive. He doubts the classmate on the playground even remembers saying that (or remembers Mingi at all), but Mingi definitely does. It hasn’t left his mind since the day it occurred.

His best friends at the time, Yunho and Wooyoung were there to reassure him that there was nothing wrong with his appearance. “Some kids say I have weird cheeks,” he remembers a seven-year-old Yunho saying, “but my mom thinks they’re cute so I don’t really care.” Wooyoung offered a somewhat different but still comforting sentiment about the kid being a “butt-face” and a “stupid idiot,” which admittedly helped cheer Mingi up a lot.

Middle school was when a lot changed for Mingi.

On his very first day of middle school, he awoke to find his skin red and blotchy, the first sign of his to-be consistent acne problem. He was covering his face when he walked into the building, so Yunho and Wooyoung didn’t even see him at first. When they finally did, they scolded him for being dramatic and promised that no one would care if his face was a little blotchy that day.

Wooyoung seemed to have been blessed with perfect skin, because he never had a single breakout throughout middle school. Maybe he’d get a pimple here and there that he would cover with some of his mom’s foundation, but that was it. Yunho had a bit of acne too, but his parents could afford the expensive creams that made it go away instantly while Mingi’s family didn’t have the time or the money for that.

Throughout his experience in middle school, Mingi noticed three key differences in his life there than in elementary school: 1) Unlike in elementary school, it did matter what you wore.

The fact that he only had a few good shirts that were usually either a size too big or a size too small and only a few pairs of baggy jeans didn’t matter in elementary school. He could wear the same shirt and pants every day and the kids probably wouldn’t notice. In middle school, they definitely did notice.

In only his second week there, someone in his class asked why he was wearing the same shirt he wore just last week, which caught him by surprise. Was that a bad thing? He owns a laundry machine, it’s not like he’s wearing a mud-covered, dirty t-shirt or something. But his choice (or lacks thereof) in clothing brought several confused and sometimes even disgusted looks from his classmates.

This leads us to point 2) Being funny wasn’t enough to be well-liked. Admittedly, Mingi thought of his humor as basically his only talent. He’s just a pretty loud and outgoing person, so that earned him a lot of friends back in elementary school. In middle school, he was labeled the “class clown” and was viewed as a troublemaker by most of the kids, which made people want to stay away from him.

Even to this day, Mingi has a hard time being open with his thoughts and feelings because he’s worried he’ll come off as obnoxious and rude, even when he isn’t trying to be.

And finally point 3) Middle school is a lot bigger than elementary school. Normally, this wouldn’t really matter. Mingi was actually really excited at first when he heard the middle school had multiple floors that he could race to be the first one to climb. The only problem is that with a bigger school, there are more classes, and more classes mean less of a chance of him being with his friends (i.e. only Yunho and Wooyoung).

He ended up having most of his classes with Yunho but hardly any with Wooyoung except for when they could sit together at lunch.

Because of this, Mingi and Wooyoung started to drift apart a bit. Wooyoung even made a new friend named Yeosang, who Mingi genuinely liked but was afraid would replace him as Wooyoung’s best friend. Thankfully, this is not what ended up happening and all that occurred was Yeosang being added into the friend group with open arms by all parties.

It was then that Mingi started noticing something…strange.

He would get a tiny pang in his chest when Wooyoung was overly-friendly with any of the members of the friend group. This feeling didn’t occur with Yunho or Yeosang, only Wooyoung. At first, Mingi thought it was probably the feeling of missing Wooyoung because they didn’t have many classes together that year.

Mingi didn’t know what to do with this feeling. He just let it be at first because it wasn’t really bothering him that much, it was just strange. But as the years went on, it got stronger and stronger until Mingi couldn’t ignore it anymore.

In addition to this weird pang in his chest, he also started to feel a weird feeling in his stomach, kind of like when you’re at the top of a roller coaster and it’s just about to drop. That’s the kind of feeling he started to get when Wooyoung started to get, well…hot.

In high school, all four boys started to grow into their features more, but it was most evident in Wooyoung. Yeosang looked quite handsome too, but that wasn’t much of a change from middle school because he always kind of looked like a Greek god in Mingi’s eyes. Wooyoung, however, he was friends with since childhood and never really registered his features as anything other than “Wooyoung” until now. Now, they were registering as “hot.”

And that’s when Mingi started to get a feeling that something was…off. He wasn’t sure what and he wasn’t sure why, but he had never really been good with feelings to begin with so it made sense to him that it didn’t really make sense. Does that make sense?

“No,” Yunho said when Mingi tried explaining this predicament to him. “You’re going to have to give me more to work with, Mingi-yah. Maybe you miss him because you haven’t been spending as much time with him? You can text him and ask him to hang out.”

The very thought gave Mingi that weird feeling in his stomach again. He groaned and said, “Whatever, it probably isn’t a big deal anyway.” So, Yunho let it slide and so did Mingi for a while. Even if he got that weird feeling in his stomach, he just tried to ignore it.

He ignored it all the way until it became time to submit college applications.

That led Mingi to let another roadblock in the path of being a loser: he wasn’t really that good at anything in particular. His grades were fine, admittedly a bit below average, but not terrible. But they certainly weren’t enough to get into any university that Yunho, Wooyoung, and Yeosang were planning on going to, which was his main concern.

The only good part of Mingi’s life was his friends. His life basically revolved around them, and it still does, so not being able to go to the same college as them was a terrifying thought. Which is why Mingi started studying harder than ever.

“Whatcha doing?” Wooyoung asked one day after noticing Mingi in the library after school. This was very unlike him because anyone who knows Mingi knows that he hated school and always wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible.

Mingi jumped, seemingly not having noticed Wooyoung there before. “Oh! Um, just studying. You know, college stuff,” he explained clumsily. Why did he feel so nervous? It’s just Wooyoung, the same Wooyoung he’s known for his entire life.

“Studying? Since when did you study?” Wooyoung asked teasingly. Some people found that cheeky attitude of Wooyoung’s to be off-putting, but Mingi loved it because it fit right in with his sense of humor. That was part of the reason why they were such good friends.

“Since I needed to get into the same college you guys are going to,” Mingi said, the stress evident in his voice. This was obviously really weighing on him. “You know I can’t get into Sejong with my grades.”

Wooyoung frowned. It was true that Mingi’s grades were…on the weaker side, but he hadn’t ever considered the possibility of him not being able to get into Sejong with everyone. Going to college without Mingi was almost unthinkable. They had been together forever and Wooyoung wanted to keep it that way.

“I’ll tell you what,” Wooyoung said, taking a seat next to his friend. Mingi looked up at him with nervous eyes. To be fair, most of Wooyoung’s propositions were either very dangerous or very stupid or both. “I’ll help you study until the deadline for the application.”

Mingi’s eyes widened in shock and he was about to immediately refuse, but Wooyoung cut him off with an even more outlandish assertion: “And my parents and Yunho’s family are going to pay for your tuition.”

Now Mingi felt like sobbing, for so many reasons. Wooyoung actually wanted to help him and was willing to take time out of his incredibly busy schedule just to ensure that he had a fighting chance of going to the same university as his friends? Not to mention the fact that their families were willing to pay for his tuition? He actually felt somewhat lightheaded at the thought.

It’s true that Mingi’s parents had been relying on him getting a scholarship to be able to pay for his college education, but the chances of that occurring were seeming slimmer and slimmer when Minho’s grades failed to improve past a low B.

There were so many things he wanted to say to Wooyoung. Things like, “Are you crazy?” and, “There’s no way I can let you do that.” Maybe even, “Thank you.” But what he ended up saying instead was,

“You can’t do that.”

Instead of getting offended or even rescinding his offer (which Mingi both anticipated and feared), Wooyoung simply laughed. “Actually, I can,” he said, “and so can Yunho. You’re basically family to us and you know how much our parents like you. We’ve been saving up for this for a long time now and we were going to surprise you on your birthday, but it seemed like you needed a little extra encouragement now.”

Mingi wanted to thank Wooyoung and was practically forcing himself now to drop into a full bow, but what he did instead was equally embarrassing: he started crying. Loudly, too, and in the middle of the library.

But Wooyoung didn’t mind. He never minded. He always knew that Mingi was loud, and emotional, and a little silly, but he never minded. In fact, those were the things he was the most insecure about until Wooyoung started telling Mingi that’s what he liked most about him. He simply pulled Mingi into a hug as the boy continued to sob loudly, and stroked his back all the while.

It still isn’t exactly clear when Mingi started falling for his best friend, but if there was one moment he had to pinpoint, it would be that day in the library that he was sure he was in love with Jung Wooyoung.

#ateez #atiny #ateez imagines #ateez reactions #song mingi #mingi #jung wooyoung #jeong yunho #angst #hanahaki

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guessimwritingficsagain · 4 years ago

Text

To be seen, part One (Frankie Morales x reader)

Summary : Usually, you’d be babysitting your friend Jessie’s son but you had to come into work. Your colleagues are really excited because “the boys” are here, so you get the chance, for the first time, to see what the fuss is about. You probably need to get laid.

Author’s note : This is gonna be a four or five chapter story, not clear on that yet. Frankie isn’t here much but the endgame is Frankie x Reader. This chapter is really here to set up the reader’s relationships and workplace.

Warning : Harassment

____________________________________________________________

Chapter One :

« Yup, they’re here, » confirmed Anna, with a wink in Jessie’s direction, before she closed the kitchen’s door and went back to wait on the patrons. You were confused for a moment, but Jessie was jumping up and down in the small space, almost knocking over a bunch of plates she had been cleaning just before. She was vibrating with excitement.

« You’re finally going to see what the fuss is about ! » She all but screamed. It dawned on you, then.

The boys.

So, here’s the story : once in a while, always on a Saturday, four dudes come in, sit down, drink a few beers, chat for a bit and call it a night. There used to be five, apparently, but one of them must have been kicked out of the group, according to Jessie. One of them is usually a little banged up - always the same. One of them always makes a point to flirt with whoever is waiting on them but it’s harmless. They tip well. Nothing special, right ? Except apparently, they’re hot. And Jessie juggles with this job and the kid, and she’s on her own, has been for a while now, so it is a big deal. Apparently.

You’d been a bit worried with all the fuss she made about those guys, but then you remembered that her last date had been months ago and had ended with her coming home in tears, self-depreciating bullshit spilling out of her mouth, about her life, her failed mariage, the state of her car and the way she drank beer instead of wine and she shouldn’t because wine is more refined.

So. You’d been worried. But you figured that nothing seemed wrong with those men, and that a little fantasy was harmless and sometimes needed.

You’d never had first-hand experience with the four guys, though. You worked every other Saturday night but Jessie and you had an agreement with your boss, so you could babysit her kid the Saturday she worked since she couldn’t afford to pay someone. This Saturday, though, you had to make do and find someone to mind Clara because Phil, the cook, was sick and someone needed to replace him.

You couldn’t cook for shit and Jessie could, so she was in the kitchen, you tended the bar and Anna waited on the patrons. You let her friend get a well-deserved sneak-peek at the table before you made your way back to the counter, making an off-hand, harmless remark that she needed to get laid as you walked through the door. Once you got behind the counter, you took a deep breath and looked around.

Time to see what all the fuss is about.

The place wasn’t overly crowded for a Saturday evening, but it was still early. You spotted the table pretty easily. It was one a bit away from the others, isolated, separated from most of the room by the pool but far enough from it not to be disturbed by the players and-

Oh.

Maybe you needed to get laid, too.

———

You were staring. You knew you were staring. Hard. But then again who on earth allowed those four men to look that good. Men should never look that good. Men that looked that good were trouble. And three of them definitely looked like trouble. It was written in the way they sat, like they were at home and not in a public space with other people, legs spread wide, radiating confidence. The last one, the one with a cap on his head, was on the shyer side, but still-

Trouble.

Here’s the thing. That dating thing, that wasn’t on your mind. You gave it a shot a few years back. You’d met her in college, and when you’d both ended up with an art history degree that proved to be useless, you’d moved in together, and you’d tried to open a bookshop that crashed and burned in less that two years, and all of your savings with it. Something had cracked in your relationship, then, and you’d both tried to fix it because you’d had a good thing. The break-up hadn’t been ugly, but mending both your broken hearts had taken time. You still called each other from time to time, true to your last promise : when things get easier, let’s not be strangers. It had been her - Linda - who had said it. You hadn’t had the heart, then. Now, five years later, you were glad she had.

Five years later, you found yourself back in your home state, bartending on a Saturday night, that art history degree still useless but no longer leaving a sour taste in your mouth, a bitter sense of waste of time and money. You hadn’t had a date in three years - he had been nice, really pretty, you’d dated for a while but he’d wanted to become a big Wall Street boy and you just weren’t into that. It might be time to reconsider getting laid if you couldn’t look at a bunch of hot dudes without your brain turning to jelly, though.

Somebody cleared of throat right in front of you and you snapped out of it, apologizing before getting the man’s order, good that his presence would prevent you from drifting away too much. Then the rush came, and you forgot about the table for a while.

———

When Anna came back to give you a bunch of orders, she did so with an eyebrow slightly raised in expectation. You knew she wanted your feedback on that table, but you didn’t want to agree with Jessie and her, so you shrugged in a way you hoped looked casual and unaffected. She saw right through your bullshit.

« Fine », you whispered. « They’re hot. Hot. »

The patron at the barstool turned his head towards you and you felt your face burn. So much for whispering. Anna only laughed, head tilted back, her blonde hair waving as laughter shook her body. She was 25, beautiful in a traditional way. She was genuinely nice, and always saw the good in people. She was to this world what Jane was to Pride and Prejudice.

Which is why, when the man sitting on the barstool leaned and said to her :

« You’re a pretty one, too. »

She just smiled and thanked him. Of course, he had to take that as an invitation. This could have been the beginning of a very beautiful story if not for the fact that he was old enough to be his father, knew it, didn’t care, and that this beer obviously wasn’t his first one. You hadn’t noticed when he first sat down but now that he had leaned in, you could smell it. He reeked of alcohol.

« Wanna grab a drink sometimes ? See where that leads us ? »

Anna politely declined, and made to leave, but he grabbed her arm. You could tell it wasn’t meant to hurt her, just to hold her back, to prevent her from leaving, but you felt yourself tense.

« Sir, » you said in a tone you hoped sounded firm and steady, « I’m going to ask you to leave my colleague alone. »

He turned his head towards you and Anna took the opportunity to free herself from his grasp. She looked at you a second, a silent question (are you gonna be okay ?), and seemingly satisfied by your slight nod, she took off.

« You’re not bad yourself, you know. »

Steeling yourself, you turned to the patron.

« This is inappropriate and I’m not interested, Sir. »

But the man was relentless. When you said no for the third time he started muttering to himself, something about women all being bitches to him. You were getting really tense, and looked around to see where Anna was. She was at the boys’ table, watching you. Actually, the whole table was watching you as one of the men - the beat up one, your mind registered - was walking your way with purpose.

— ——

You were staring again, you realized. The man had taken a barstool too, right in front of you, and was waiting for you to say something. Probably a sentence. A coherent sentence.

« Hi, what can I get you ? »

Nice. One word at a time. You could do it.

« Nothing, I just wanted to introduce myself. I’m Benny. »

He offered his hand. You took it. He was all sharp angles and there was something wild and dark in his eyes, but he had a nice, warm smile. Your hand seemed tiny in his. After a beat, you told him your own name. He gestured behind him, towards the table, still looking your way.

« My pals over there and I were wondering if you were new. Never saw you around. »

« I’m not. I guess I’m not around when you guys are. »

« That’s what your colleague said. »

Bullshit.

He knew you saw right through it, and you tried to convey the fact that you appreciated the gesture without saying anything too obvious. There was no doubt that Benny would have no problem getting physical with the other guy at the counter if needed. But the man in question was standing awfully still, like he got the same vibe off of Benny you did. He’d stopped muttering and was looking very intently at his bottle. Benny kept going, and you soon saw what he was doing. He slightly turned and pointed towards his friends. You noticed Anna had gone back to work.

« See the blonde guy over there ? That’s my idiot of a brother, Will. Guy with the cap is Frankie. Last one is Pope. »

You raised your eyebrows at that.

« Pope ? »

« Sorry, force of habit. His name is Santiago. Santi for short. We used to serve, Pope was his call sign, and I guess it stuck. »

He shrugged, keeping the conversation light, but the mention of four ex-military casually sitting there and checking on you was enough for the other patron. He got up and left without a word. Your sigh of relief didn’t go unnoticed.

« Santi saw something was off a while back with that guy, when he grabbed your colleague … »

« Anna », you automatically corrected.

« When he grabbed Anna, » Benni obliged. « She confirmed when she came to take our orders. »

« Thank you. »

You were used to dealing with that kind of stuff, but it was nice to have back-up, especially when the usual one wasn’t there. Normally, you’d go to Phil in the kitchen, but today, Jessie wouldn’t have been much of a match against a drunk guy would wanted some. Jessie, who was standing, you saw, right outside the kitchen door, gaping at you.

« I never got your order », you stated, turning your attention back to Benny.

He gave it again and you smiled.

« It’s on the house. »

———

« So his name is Benny. The blonde one, Will. That’s his brother. Then Santiago and Frankie. »

« Yes but which one is Santiago and which one is Frankie ? » all but whined Jessie.

You were closing the place. Anna wasn’t saying anything but you could tell she was listening intently.

« A bit too old for you, aren’t they ? » You quipped.

She just laughed.

« No harm in looking. »

She was right. No harm. Meanwhile Jessie, arms waiving all around, complained :

« How come I tried to get their attention for weeks and something happens the first time you see them ? »

« Yeah, it was a real pleasure to get harassed. I made sure it happened for the attention. All part of a very good plan. »

« Oh come on, » she shoved you playfully « you know what I mean. »

The parking lot was empty. The cool air around you was quiet except for the occasional sound of a car going down the street nearby. The three of you fell silent, walking to Anna’s car. You kept silent during the drive, too, exhaustion settling in your bones. You knew you were lucky : tomorrow was your day off. Neither Anna nor Jessie had that chance. You’d be sleeping on Jessie’s couch tonight, just so you could babysit Clara. Your foggy brain betrayed you, then, and a bad thought came to you like a stab in the back :

When was the last time you saw a movie ? Went to an exhibit ?

You buried it, like you did every time you reminded yourself you were not where you thought you’d be at your age. When Anna pulled over in front of Jessie’s house, you thanked her and waited, silent again, as Jessie thanked her babysitter, winced as she paid her - you knew that was not something she could afford - and went to check on her sleeping girl. You were making yourself at home, preparing the couch for the night, thoughts of Benny and other hot dudes, ex-military guys entirely forgotten when you heard, soft and broken :

« I know it’s silly. This whole thing. I just … I wish someone would look at me, you know. »

Jessie was standing in her living room, lost and desperate. You stopped, right then. The bags under her eyes were dark. She wasn’t going to cry, you knew that. The way she spoke, with finality, like she was convinced no one would look at her ever again, made your exhausted body tremble with anger. You closed the space between the two of you and held her for a while.

Later, as you were plugging your phone, you saw a text from Linda.

Hey, just checking on you. Everything good, these days ? Saw that French movie you told me about. It’s great ! Seen it yet ? I know you were excited. Don’t be a stranger ;)

You thought back on Jessie’s words. Somebody, at some point, had looked at you. Had seen you for who you were and had embraced every one of your qualities and your flaws. You didn’t miss it. It didn’t hurt anymore. But you remembered how beautiful it had been. Jessie’s marriage was never like that, from what you could tell. If you picked up the phone right now and called Linda, she would be there for you. If Jessie picked up the phone, all she’d get would be a reminder that her ex-husband had changed his number and couldn’t be reached in any way.

You were lucky, you realized with a sharp sense of guilt.

You were lucky that you’d had that, with Linda. And you were even luckier that you didn’t need anyone to look at you. You didn’t need anyone to see you for who you were.

You didn’t.

#frankie morales x reader #francisco morales #francisco 'catfish' morales #francisco 'catfish' Morales x reader #triple frontier

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putseraphinaonthaphone · 4 years ago

Text

Chromatic

Classical Pianist Katsuki Bakugou has a favorite coffee shop on the short walk from his studio back to his apartment. It's small, 24 hours, and has a stage that's always free for musicians to use. And it's run by you, a would be musician who's a better baker and coffee maker-that he can't stop coming back to see.

@nanamisbento & @hanji-is-life both made a world of difference in making me feel confident enough to write this as a full drabble, so thank y'all <3 y'all are sweethearts and I love this au so muchhhh

~light angst, slow burn, black!queer!reader, musician au~

"Cross my heart hope to die, I ain't got no love to give," you plucked at the guitar strings lazily your eyes focused on nothing but the strings and trying not to cry- and if felt like your alto voice was fighting through gravel. Huskier than normal, verging on tenor like you always dreamed about, and you were too fucking sad to enjoy it.

You missed your friend, you missed talking to him. Teasing him, making him laugh. And worse, you knew the home he went back to wasn't the healthiest. You knew all too well how a house could be so much worse than the stress of school.

"Baby boy so goddamn fine, swear you give me a peace of mind," and it was true. Just being near him, talking about poetry, anything, made you feel so calm. Fuck you missed him.

"Swear you make this young girl go crazy," If some tears fell onto your fretboard at least it was late enough that no one would come in until the morning rush.

"Now how could a man like you want somebody, so incredibly immature, insecure just like me?" Because he was just as insecure as you. It's why you two would talk on the phone for hours on end, about all your fears and worries, as much as your happiness. He was the friend you could talk about the lowest lows with because neither of you were afraid or unfamiliar with rock bottom- mentally, emotionally.

You slipped the strap of your electric guitar over your head and put it back on the rack (you left it out for musicians of all kinds to play when they felt inspired by your shop's vibes) and wiped your aching eyes. You didn't see or hear Bakugou slip back out the side door he'd came in through.

He'd first started coming in April, when the Washington rain was too torrential not to seek cover. He'd walked in soaking wet and spitting curses as he shut the door behind him. Ash blond hair and garnet eyes plus a jawline you'd cut yourself on meant you were half way infatuated before he even ordered.

"Black coffee with extra raw sugar, and whatever bread you have that's not sweet." It was a rumbling bass of a voice and damnit now you were officially in love- but then you noticed a case that you guessed carried an electric keyboard by the shape at his feet and in your excitement (that distracted you from his stunningly pretty face enough you could talk to him without tripping over your words like you were sure you were going to when you first came to take his order) you grinned at him so genuinely he forgot he was pissed.

"Sure thing, but just so you know- we have a permanent open mic set up here. You can play whatever instruments of mine you'd like to use, or you could set up your keyboard. It's great to see more musicians in here." You meant it, he could see in the way you seemed to light up like fireworks just talking about it.

"..Maybe next time." He tried to say hell no I'm never coming back to this tiny ass shop, do you know the size of the stages I usually play?!

But how could he regret his grumbled words when you clutched your small notepad to your chest and asked him in a rush (with a sparkle in your big doe brown eyes that didn't match your shaved head or heavy silver rings and earrings but was adorable nonetheless) "You mean it? You'd play here?"

It wasn't the same eagerness of ochestral directors prepared to embarrass themselves for a chance for The Katsuki Bakugou, classical pianist prodigy, to play with their ensembles. It was just a person who loved music and ran a tiny well cared for shop that was full of second hand furniture and mismatch cutlery and china, that was excited at the thought of music being played at all.

"Why not? I could play some of my own compositions for once instead of another goddamn Bach piece." You must have been imagining the blush on his cheeks because it was gone in seconds, and he was glaring at you with only the slightest of smiles taking the sting out of his words. "But am I going to get that coffee before I catch a cold from the fucking rain currently soaking my fucking clothes?"

Now it was your turn to feel heat burning in your cheeks as you sheepishly saluted "Right, coffee," and ran back to your bar to start his order. You found some fresh plain yeast rolls on the top shelf of your display case and an old towel in your supply closet. And if you didn't think about how much of a dork you made of yourself in front of your hottest customer to date your hands didn't shake when you put together his coffee in the largest cup you could find.

"Least sweet bread I have, black coffee with a fuck ton of raw sugar.." You winked to (hopefully) let the blond know you were kidding, "and a towel to make sure you'll survive long enough to play for me sometime."

He snorted and snatched the towel from your hands, starting to rub it vigorously over his hair with a blatant lack of fucks for how fluffy and wild it made it hair, but it seemed to you that there was humor in his voice as he sighed, "That depends on how good your shitty coffee is."

He started coming in on the regular after that. Sometimes dressed in a suit, that he was all but ripping off until he could roll up the sleeves of his dress shirt and unbutton the collar so he could breathe. (The first time you saw the bare column of his throat and the obvious strength of his chest meeting the delicate structure of his collar bones, you had to blame lifting heavy bags of coffee beans for your breathlessness.)

Sometimes he came from the opposite direction, dressed in jeans and old tshirts when it finally started warming up. He brought in his keyboard on those days and played a range of compositions you knew were his without him having to tell you. His left hand was more comfortable in the lower octaves of his keyboard when it was his own work, and there was more grief mixed in the bombastic anger that fueled the more staccato and forte phrases that had everyone in the small shop falling quiet to listen. Because it wasn't just hammering at the keys, it was complex harmonies of thirds and major sevenths that haunted the air even as he was moving on to the next phrase that was more of a murmur of echoing themes that passed back from hand to hand.

But your favorite times to see him was during your night shifts, when the shop was mostly deserted except for your quieter night owl regulars. Then he'd play pieces that were.. lullabies. Soft melodies and less minor chords than his daylight pieces. He'd take breaks in between pieces to come talk to you at the bar, ask your opinion on his playing- the genuine way he listened to your comments and compliments making your heart melt more than his good looks could have done alone.

And some nights, especially when it rains, he's telling you about the superficial nature of the classical music world and how sometimes he wishes he'd never gone into orchestral piano and just stayed in his old tiny but cozy apartment.

"Maybe we would've met anyway, and you'd still have this place and I'd come play for scraps on the weekends." And damn the wistfulness hits him hard, you can see it in the way his eyes soften for the first time in knowing him.

"I wouldn't let you play for scraps, it's tiny but it's my place. And your music would only add to the atmosphere. You'd get full employee wages and free coffee on the house." You're wistful too, and maybe it's the rain but you'd love for this dream to be real. Even for a moment.

You were sure you'd actually walk into being head over heels in love if he did one more sweet thing for you with his signature grumble and glare. But it was weird, ever since a few weeks back he'd stopped coming by as often. Looked at you strange when you teased him like you were both used to, and played pieces with more anger and sorrow than you'd ever heard from him before.

It was turning into the longest you hadn't seen him by the end of the week, so you were fucking furious when he strolled in one night.

Obviously coming from one of his bigger performances with the coattails and tuxedo tie, but no smile to show for it. Not even smugness in his eyes from a performance well done. He looked a little like shit actually, dark circles under his eyes and something indescribably sad in his garnet gaze that sought you out as soon as he walked in. It was the only thing that stopped you from completely ignoring his order when he came to the bar.

But you couldn't stop the obvious way your jaw was clenched while you worked, the hurt in your eyes when you set his coffee down in front of him.

He said your name, low and questioning, confusion growing on his perfect stupid face and that's when you couldn't take it anymore. He looked like shit, but you felt it. Losing one friend in a year was more than enough heart break for you. Having a friend, who you were already half in love with, start ghosting you on top of that? You weren't strong enough to take the highroad.

"Don't you fucking dare look at me like you don't understand. I don't understand why you decided our friendship doesn't mean shit to you anymore. If you were going to fucking ghost me I would've preferred if you'd done so before I started waiting for you to come by." You were glad no one was in the shop but the two of you when you realized somewhere along the line of yelling at him you started crying. Kat was looking at you with his mouth open in shock, and you didn't want to wait around to drag out your embarrassment.

But you were surprised when he came after. Calling your name again, moving quickly to get around the counter to follow you.

"Wait. Wait." His hand grabbed your wrist, the first time he touched you with no pretenses or excuses. The strength and gentleness of his hold only making it harder to stop your tears.

"I didn't mean to make you cry." You almost wished he'd go back to his more brash daylight self, you can't handle how quiet and gentle he gets in the early morning hours. Your heart was too soft on him already- even in your anger, you didn't resist when he pulled you close and cupped your cheeks. The pads of his thumbs wiping away your tears.

"You were crying that night too, when you were playing. I'd never heard you sing before." His fingers were on your lips, silencing you before you could even ask what the hell he was talking about. It was too much. Being unable to escape the way his eyes watched you, the way his voice got quiet- confessional.

"Let me finish. I heard you sing, and I saw you cry, and the thought of you crying for another man made me so angry I thought I'd die from how much I hated him. Whoever he was. So I stopped coming by as often. I didn't know that would hurt you.. I didn't think you would care if you were still heartbroken over some asshole." It was starting to make sense, starting to make you hope that maybe.. maybe he felt the same way you did.

"I get heartbroken over friends you know. Just friends." Your words are slightly muffled by his fingers, but its worth it to see the hope flare to life in his eyes.

How had you both missed it? All these months of longing.

"But the way you broke my heart by just not coming by? When I didn't even know what was wrong? That's worse than anything I've ever felt before-"

Your first kiss with Katsuki was salty from your tears, but it was okay.

He wanted your tears, your lips, you to be his and only his.

#katsuki bakugou x reader #gn!reader #katsiki bakugou x gn!reader #classical pianist bakugou #missives from the concubine

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roseofithaca · 4 years ago

Text

Right Here

Quick Hellstrop brotp mini-fic.

Fluff, hint of one-sided romantic feelings, emotional hurt/comfort.

It wasn’t until he saw the leather jacket on the desk that he began to worry. Before then, when he’d seen Eleanor make a rather impromptu exit out of Tahani’s party, he’d been a little confused. In what crazy dimension did Eleanor Shellstrop leave a party before all the shrimp had been devoured? The platters had barely been touched.

He’d waited a while, in case she came back, mingling among the fake residents, the real humans as well as the rest of the team, head constantly rotating back towards the door for a sign of her re-entry. Na-da.

After making his own excuses, he followed the scent of her perfume, which had also left a pink mist in her wake, visible only to his supernatural eyes. He regrets having told his friends about that aspect of his abilities a little, mainly after Jason compared him to the sniffer dog that slobbered over him once at a bus station.

The path lead him to their office, or the ‘Hot God’s Throne Room’ as she’d once named it. Hardly a false analogy, Michael had silently thought.

“Eleanor?” he’d asked, making his way in. All of his adversary-turned-friend-turned boss that awaited him was the jacket on the desk that she’d worn over her dress on the walk to the party.

That and two pairs of high-heels kicked unceremoniously to the side.

“Oh, Eleanor...” He whispered, grasping the jacket in his hand, instantly inhaling the odour of discomfort and anxiety.

The smell said half of it. The fact some of her clothes had been hastily abandoned here rather than at her clown house said the rest. Something was wrong.

Fortunately, a burned out Eleanor is easy to track.

It doesn’t take him less than fifteen minutes to follow the pink trail in the air, cutting through the deserted town, over the fields, out towards the lake. Ah, of course. As soon as he recognises the significance of her destination, he knows what prompted her to leave in such a rush. He doesn’t need to follow the trail, he knows exactly what wooden bench she’s going to be sitting on.

She doesn’t look up as he treads closer to her, head buried between her knees pulled up onto the seat, hugged to her chest. The little bumps on her exposed shoulders tremble while the rest of her stays rigid.

“Getting chilly?” he says, softly.

Eleanor lifts her head, the tiniest of gasps, her eyes sparkling with the briefest flash of excitement before they dim. Disappointed.

Were you expecting someone else? Of course.

Tears mark her blotchy cheeks that she rushes to dry with her fist; “No...Just way too hot at the party and I thought I could cool off back at the office but it was like a forking oven, so I came out here and....now I’m cold, yeah.”

He nods, understanding all too well how the world can turn into a furnace when everything feels as though it’s about to collapse in on you. And this is coming from a guy born and raised in magma.

Eleanor might not have had anxiety attacks the same as him. Her usual response to stressful situations was to lash out, toss over some cakes, kick some chairs, consuming a ton of alcohol on the way. Without any of those options being acceptable for an Immortal Heavenly Being; her only outlet was to do as she did as a frightened child; and hide away.

“Here,” he doesn’t wait for her to accept the offer as he removes his jacket and places it over her shoulders, just to cover the little bumps; “Wow, you’re small...It looks like you’re popping your head out of a molehill made from cloth.”

“Shut up, you flagpole” Eleanor manages a chuckle, sniffling after, tugging it around her shoulders, “...Thanks.” she remembers, with a mumble.

He lingers, this time waiting for her consent; “D’you want company?”

“No...” she responds, staring out at the vast body of water beneath the full moon; “I wanna be by myself.”

“Okay...”

He starts to step away, only for her to grab his hand.

“What the fork are you doing?”

Michael blinks; “You just said-”

“Yeah. By myself. And you’re like...ridiculously similar to me that we’re practically the same person, so you can stay.”

He blinks again.

“That’s...insanely confusing!”

“Just sit down, dummy.” She tugs him again. As she wishes, Michael places himself down beside her, taking note of how short of breath she still is from crying. As soon as he’d noticed the tears shining, he’d had to ground himself to avoid rushing forward to dry them.

Now he’s close enough, having been invited to share her space, he dares to reach out and rub her back.

“Just breathe. You’re okay.” he whispers, softly, “No one’s gonna be out here, you can cry if you want.” Fork the garbage Donna fed her about hiding her emotions.

She sniffs, gulping for air; “M’so sick of crying...And I thought I was over this, I mean...We’re so close to the end and I’m sure we’ve got this but...Fork.” Eleanor looks down; “Seeing them dance...Seeing him kiss her...They look so happy.”

“Not half as happy as when he danced with you.” He’s tempted to give her the memory of their little dance in the rain in #119, in case it stopped being fresh for her. He’d been so pissed off about that not being enough to spoil their date at the time.

“What does it matter if he doesn’t remember that?” She scoffs, untucking her knees and looking back at the lake; “What does the first kiss we have here mean anything if he comes here with Simone, all the time, and they have dozens of their own kisses!?”

“He will remember. I promised, I’d give him all his memories back when this is over.” It can’t come soon enough. Saving humanity was beginning to come second to just seeing her be happy again.

Eleanor’s shoulders slump; “...And if he still chooses her? What then? We could win this whole thing and he could come back and I’m just...back to being alone!”

“Okay, now you’re being an idiot.”

“Thanks, pal! And you wonder why I refuse to call you Hottest Savior?!”

“I mean it!” He almost growls, putting his hand on her shoulder; “Do you really think you’re gonna have none of us around you, on the one in a billion chance that Chidi doesn’t wanna get back with you? You don’t think what you’ve got to look forward to in the Good Place extends beyond being with him? C’mon. Chidi would the last person to want you to be thinking like that.”

Eleanor rolls her eyes; “Yeah well...Sometimes I wanna say ‘fork Chidi’. I mean...obviously I wanna fork Chidi but I mean-.”

“I get it.” Damn horny bipeds.

He reaches out to take her hand, linking his fingers between hers, caressing the joint of her thumb with his own.

“Listen. If you were ever alone without him, do you think I’d have followed you out here? Do you think Tahani or Jason or Janet wouldn’t have noticed, if not me, and done the same?” He lowers his voice, inching closer.

Eleanor pauses.

Her other hand moves up to touch with the hem of his jacket covering her.

“It’s always you.” she mumbles, eyes casting over his chest. I’m up here, he wants to say, or would that crane her neck?

“Yeah, well...I could say the same about you.” The first one to ever pick him up after an existential breakdown. The last one who held him during a crisis, paralysed at the thought of losing his friends in the worst possible way. “Who else knows rock bottom better than us, hmm?”

Finally, she smiles; “We pretty much founded the place. It’s like our own little kingdom at this point.”

Michael shyly smiles. Hades and Persephone. All those times, in his past, when he pictured Eleanor at his side, not as an oblivious victim but his partner. His one worthy equal. Then he found himself constantly bested by her, beaten, to the point he was at her heels, following her lead, waiting for her to say jump so he could ask how high? Willing to cast himself into the fire if she deemed him unworthy, or she needed him gone.

He will never understand how Chidi could resist her pleas to stay. If she asked for Chidi’s memory back tonight, even at the risk of dooming humanity, he would obey.

Perhaps the knowledge that he shouldn’t is all that stops him from making the offer in the first place.

Fork, when did his arm find its way around her shoulders? When did she start leaning in so close? She’s practically snuggling against him now. She must be getting cold.

He waves his hand, warming up the night breeze that passes over the lake. She still doesn’t move away. He doesn’t exactly push her either.

“Y’know...The reason I was looking to find you at the party when I saw you leave was I was gonna ask you for a dance.” he confesses, needing to break the tense silence.

“Oh, really?” She glances up, raising an eyebrow; “Well...I’m not walking all the way back.”

Michael nods; “It’s okay...I was expecting a ‘no’.”

“Did I say ‘no’?”

He looks to see her giving that cheeky smile. Shirt, he must be blushing. She always looks at him with that smug, endearing gaze when she knows she’s succeeded in teasing him.

It feels a shame to pull away from the cuddle she was beginning to relax into as he gets to his feet. Probably for the best none of the humans come across their Goddess sleeping in the arms of her Architect out in the open...especially Chidi, no matter how chaste it may be.

“No trying to trip each other to fall in the lake, deal?”

Eleanor groans, leaving Michael’s jacket on the seat; “I guess...Spoilsport.”

Neither are going to make that promise. What would be the fun in that?

He gives her his best ‘devilish’ grin and holds out his hand.

“May I have this dance, Boss?”

Eleanor’s eyes flutter up and down his front before locking his gaze again, her tears all but dried. “Only because you’re rockin’ that tux,” She gives him her hand; “You may, buddy.”

He gently tugs her up onto her bare feet. Without her heels, she barely meets his neck. She doesn’t seem to mind, smiling as he moves her onto the pier, beneath the strung up lights along the boardwalk.

A snap of his fingers and a song begins to play on the invisible surround sound system.

If I see you next to never, How can we say forever?

Fingers smooth gently up her back as he holds her close. Her head rests into his chest as they sway to the 80′s ballad. Stroking her shoulders, he finds the same little bumps are still there, but no longer trembling. He wishes he knew enough about being human to understand what that meant. So long as she no longer feels alone, that’s all he wants.

“Michael...” she murmurs, sliding her other arm around his side.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for being here.”

He resists the old urge to make a nonchalant quip for humor sake and gives into the sentiment swelling beneath this suit. He kisses the top of her head, whispering adoringly;

“Always.”

Wherever you go, Whatever you do...

It feels a little wrong to be dancing with Eleanor Shellstrop in the spot where she had her first kiss with the love of her life, but as she pointed out, he’s had just as many dates here with Simone. Michael allows the remnants of his demon past to find a weird taste of satisfaction, for Eleanor’s sake anyway. It’s hardly as if the nerd was here to see it, or even care in his current state. Maybe one day, in the future, if he’s feeling particularly petty and satantic, he’ll brag to Chidi’s face about how he had one of most romantic, moonlit dances with his girlfriend. Because only a fool would give up that chance, even if to save the Universe.

All for no other reason than to make sure his friend is always grateful for being the one Eleanor Shellstrop loves with all her heart, and wanting to make up for every moment he missed with her this year. Just as Michael thanks Upper Management every day that he has the honor of dwelling in a fraction of it.

Whatever it takes, Or how my heart breaks, I will be right here waiting for you.

#hellstrop fic #pininggg #idk if i like how this turned out #i just really wanted to write something like this #and i always do sad michael in s4 #i rarely do sad eleanor but she's going through so much #and i like doing caretaker michael outside of npl sometimes

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yuueee · 5 years ago

Text

song: bruno mars & b.o.b. - nothin’ on you slowed

word count: 2,456

request: Hello, if you're talking requests for atla. May I request a sokka x reader in which she works under Piandao and during Sokka's Master episode they meet and become close? Maybe they meet again during the finale or the Gaang asks her to accompany them on the rest of their journey?

author’s note: I am so sorry for taking forever to post something! I rewrote this and like 2 other fics almost 3 different times because I didn’t like how they were turning out so I hope this was okay🥺. thank u for requesting and I hope y’all enjoy!

“You want me to do what now?” you asked the boy in front of you incredulously, attempting to wiggle your shoulders out of his hands’ grip. He straight up lied to your face and expected you to just get over that? It had nothing to do with his water tribe heritage of course - being that you hated the fire nation’s outlook on the other countries and this pointless war as much as Piandao did. You just didn’t understand why he felt the need to lie to you about it!

During the meager amount of time you had to spend with him, you two had an immediate - albeit odd connection. He was able to get you out of your shell of composure in a way that Piandao and Fat were never successful in. On the contrary you aided him heavily in training and kept him motivated - although it often sounded more like insults.

“I know you’re upset but I promise I can explain everything later. But I really think you should join us in defeating the fire lord!” he reassured, his blue eyes seemingly sparkling in excitement. Shrugging out of his grasp and turning towards Piandao, you hoped that he would add in some useful input.

“But what use will I be if Master Piandao hasn’t even finished training me yet?” you asked, balling your fists in frustration. Your master simply shook his head and gave you a smile.

“{First-Name},” he spoke gently as to not further anger you, and leaned down to your height. “You are beyond my training at this point. Your destiny now lies in helping the avatar defeat the fire lord and besides - it’s what he would have wanted.” you couldn’t argue with that. Having trained you since around the age of twelve, he hadn’t heard you talk this much in all of the three years he had known you. Even after only knowing Sokka for about two days - he trusted you with him. He could see the positive effect you had on eacho other just from observing your interactions.

He’d be lying if he said that he hadn’t been worried about you ever since your father and his closest friends’ passing. You had went from a bubbly and joyous child to emotionally repressed and largely untalkative. Although he had still not seen you smile since before your fathers death - the outwardly expressed anger and frustration at Sokka’s idiocy was atleast something.

“I trust that you’ll be in good hands.” he said sternly, giving Sokka a pointed look.

“It’s settled then! You’re joining team avatar!”

While you weren’t quite sure why Sokka was so adamant on you joining him and his friends, you were somewhat happy to be leaving Shu Jing - which was new. Other than the weather being insufferably humid the majority of the year, your home in Piandao’s castle was bearable. In the past you hadn’t minded the repetitive nature of your days - but things were different now. You felt that you owed it to your father to join the fight against the country that took his life. And if this was the route you were forced to take, then so be it.

Surprisingly, as annoying as he was Sokka was the one you remained closest with in the group - but Toph was a close second. Though you didn’t talk with him that often, Aang was always kind and making sure that you felt included in the group - which wasn’t exactly necessary but appreciated none the less. Katara on the other hand was having some difficulty warming up to you - which you understood, so you didn’t speak to her unless necessary, which wasn’t often.

Although you had indeed become slightly more emotive and open, it was normally limited to sarcastic quips when Sokka said something stupid or asking Katara if she needed any help with groceries or cooking dinner - which she actually appreciated. Overall though, you still spent the majority of your time with Sokka. While he was still annoying and enjoyed teasing flirting with you every chance he could get, you’d be lying to yourself if you said you weren’t somewhat enjoying it - you’d never admit to that though.

One of the first times you got to be alone together was when you both were trying to escape Toph and Katara’s arguing.

“I’m going to head back out to the market,” he said, getting up off of the ground. “I’ll see you guys later.”

“Wait, can I go with you?” you questioned somewhat awkwardly, getting out of your seat and sprinting some to catch up with him.

“Of course!” he grinned in return, slowing down some so you could walk at the same pace. His smile made your chest feel warm, slightly catching you off guard.

“So, is Piandao your dad or something?” he asked gently, trying not to press too much. Though it was a sensitive topic, you felt oddly comfortable with Sokka - even though you had only known him for several weeks. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.” he responded to your silence, ceasing walking and looking at you sincerely. You shook your head in return and kept walking.

“No, it’s fine.” he nodded and followed apprehensively. “Piandao is kind of like my uncle I guess? He and my Dad were friends when they were both in the fire nation army. And you know how Piandao eventually deserted the army?”

“Yeah, I recall him saying that.” he gave you a concerned glance, but you kept your gaze trained on the ground in front of you. While your expression was obviously pained, it still seemed restrained in a way as if you had practiced holding back your feelings for years. It was at this point he realized he’d never seen you smile, not even when when you were making fun of him.

“Well, my Dad also attempted to leave - but he wasn’t as skilled as Piandao was.” there was a beat of silence before you felt his hand envelope your own, rubbing the back of it with his thumb. Normally if someone did this you would’ve snatched your hand away - but you didn’t want to. His hand felt nice, warm and comforting.

“I’m really sorry about your Dad, and it was really brave of him to try and leave the army.” he gave you a look of concern and understanding, leading you to remember him mentioning

“Um, thanks.”

The rest of your afternoon at the market was spent making conversation about your childhoods and the messenger hawk he had just bought. The entire time he never let go of your hand. You assumed he was just doing it out of friendly comfort - but then again who platonically holds hands? You only stopped when you both returned to the small campsite and greeted the others.

You didn’t mean to snatch your hand away, but at the same time you thought your heart was going to jump out of your chest if you didn’t let go. But it didn’t seem to bother Sokka though, not at all. So maybe it was just platonic? But this wasn’t the only situation in where he left you utterly flustered and confused.

When the five of you were seated around the campfire listening to Katara’s story, you could see Sokka inching towards you out of the corner of your eye. Everyone else seemed rather uncomfortable, and while it was a quite unnerving story if you were scared you weren’t showing it. As the story went on, he would jump closer which each detail - until he was eventually leaning on your shoulder with his arms wrapped around your waist, shaking in fear like a small child.

When she finished her story, Katara and Aang just stared in awe as you didn’t shove him off. You just rolled your eyes and mumbled something about him being an idiot. They noticed a change between you both after that day. You almost seemed closer in a sort of way? You still scolded him for saying and doing stupid things - but you no longer pushed him away. He was quite touchy and handsy with you, never in a disrespectful way though. It’s just when he got excited he’d sometimes pick up you up for a few seconds before placing you back on the ground. Whilst you didn’t really return his affections, you weren’t rejecting him either. But the two of you were forced to confront this rising attraction all to soon, the day of the invasion.

You had a moment alone before you had to go your separate ways. After staring down at your feet for what seemed like a few minutes, you gained the courage to speak.

“Don’t, uh die.” you finally said aloud, meeting his gaze. Before you could say anything else he doubled over in laughter, clutching his stomach to get a hold of himself. “Sokka I’m being serious!” you said in frustration, seconds away from turning around and getting back into the submarine. Once he calmed down, he placed both of his hands on your shoulders and gained a serious expression.

“I’m sorry for laughing. But we’re gonna get out of this alive. Okay?” he finished his sentence with a smirk, tilting his head to the side. You nodded, feeling somewhat disappointed for some reason. But what were you expecting? You were just friends, and you didn’t like him like that anyway... right? Your thoughts cut off when you felt a pair of lips peck your cheek and his hands leave your shoulder to interlock with one of your own. “Come back to me okay?” he said sincerely, his eyes filled with worry.

“I promise.”

After the failure at the fire nation capitol, the few weeks before the arrival of Sozin’s comet blurred by far too quickly for your liking. The anxiety concerning Aang’s final battle with the fire lord was a top concern on everyone’s mind, including your own. Things were a bit stagnant between you and Sokka. You couldn’t ignore your feelings but at the same time you were fighting a war - there wasn’t any time to put energy into a relationship.

However after you, Toph and Sokka took down the airships, you were forced to confront these feelings yet again.

After riding with Appa over Ba Sing Se to look at the fireworks, you two were aimlessly roaming around the upper ring - watching the festivities of those celebrating the end of the hundred year war.

“So,” he asked suddenly, looking at you with a smile and nudging your arm jokingly. Normally you would have shoved him back, but all you could do was look down at your fidgeting hands and hope he couldn’t hear how fast your heart was beating. “What do you plan on doing now?”

“Um, I’m honestly not sure.” you responded, looking up at him. “I guess I’ll go back to the fire nation? I still want to help, I just don’t really know where I guess.”

“I get what you mean. I mean you could always stay with me...”

“With you?” Sokka began sputtering and waving his hands around after realizing what he just insinuated.

“I mean not with me per say.” he rephrased, rubbing his hand on the back of his neck. You actually felt a tinge of disappointment at his words. “I mean with team avatar, we aren’t exactly finished saving the world - and you’re a vital member of our team.” Instead of calling him an idiot like you would have in the past, you gave him a small smile - catching him completely off guard and causing him to blush.

“I’d like that.” He intertwined you’re fingers and ran his thumb over the back of your hand. Before you could speak again you were interrupted by the rest of your friends running towards you.

“We were wondering where the two of you ran off to!” Katara said slightly out of breath, leaning over.

“We were having a moment and you ruined it!” Sokka shouted at his sister, causing her to start complaining about how he shouldn’t have broken off from the group without telling them if he didn’t want to be followed. As they continued to bicker, you felt Toph shove your shoulder.

“It’s about time you two got together.”

“Shut up Toph.”

Several years into the future, you continued to aid team avatar in helping the the different nations recover from the wars aftermath. Surprisingly, you and Sokka’s relationship still had no title and stayed undefined. To everyone else’s was clear you were together - but you still hadn’t kissed or showed in public displays of affection as of late. To on onlooker it just looked like you both could’ve been close friends. But that would finally change when you and Toph went to visit Katara and Sokka in the southern water tribe.

After greeting Katara, you were almost knocked off of your feet by the force of Sokka hugging you and eventually picking you up so you were about a foot off the ground.

“I missed you so much!” he borderline squealed, rocking you back and forth a bit.

“I missed you too, but can you set me down for a minute? I have something to give you.”

“You do?” he asked, his eyes sparkling in excitement. Reaching behind you, you handed him a sword with slightly shaky hands. “Is this, for me?”

“Yes.” you replied quietly, looking down at your fidgeting hands - still not rid of the habit even at 17. “I felt really bad after you lost your space sword and I couldn’t find another meteor but I wanted to make you a new one to replace it anyways...” you continued to ramble on before you heard the sword drop onto the snow covered ground with a quiet *crunch*. “Hey! I get that it’s not your old one but that doesn’t mean I didn’t spend a lot of timmmph!” you were cut off when you felt his lips cover your own, his arms wrapping around your waist.

You didn’t kiss back at first out of shock, but eventually did so and cupped his cheeks with your gloved hands. Once you broke apart, he leaned his forehead on yours. “I love it.”

Later on that evening when everyone had turned in for the night, you found yourself tucked into Sokka’s chest as he snored softly - his head resting on top of yours and his arms protectively encircled around your waist. Though the journey had been long and exhausting, you were greatful for it. Maybe joining team avatar hadn’t been such a bad idea after all?

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 - @practicallylivesonline

#sokka x reader #sokka imagine #atla x reader #sokka x you #sokka x y/n #avatar x reader #avatar #sokka #avatar: the last airbender #avatar imagine #atla x you #atla imagine

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spencers-renaissance · 5 years ago

Text

Start With This

Summary: Luke accidentally hurts Spencer because they are both hopelessly stupid, but when Spencer's faced with a dangerous situation there's nothing he wants more than Luke. Calling him turns out to be a very good decision.

Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, Misunderstandings, Making Up, Getting Together

Pairing: Luke x Spencer

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: implied/mentioned sexual assault, more detailed cw on the end notes of the AO3 post <3

Read on AO3

Luke knows he’s getting obvious. His subtlety has completely thrown itself out the window, his dignity’s in the wind, and he’s so, so painfully aware of it all.

He was probably in love with Spencer before he even met the man: his reputation had preceded him -- as he’d told him that first day in the briefing room -- and the way his friends talked about him, the gentleness he seemed to possess along with the dynamite intelligence of a 187 IQ had his stomach fluttering as he walked in to meet him for the first time. And hadn’t that just sealed the deal.

Spencer’s face as he walked into the room feels like it’s been permanently burned into the back of his eyelids ever since. He’s not sure what he’d been expecting but it certainly wasn’t someone so adorable. He’d been so open and welcoming and they’d hit it off straight away, every look shared between them, every joint task on the case in Arizona had him buzzing with excitement. If he could spend every waking moment with Spencer, he would.

And he’s been so good at keeping it under wraps, but lately the looks the girls and Rossi have been sending his way are a bit too… knowing. Like they see right through him. It’s terrifying, really. He’s never had a bad coming out story, mostly because he didn’t until his late twenties when it was much less taboo to be gay and he was surrounded by people who cared far too much about him as a person to care about who he fucked. But he’s also never had a crush on a coworker before, not even a friend, so to be under so much scrutiny in a situation that feels so out of his depths is overwhelming to say the least.

The next case they take on, then, he takes extra caution to be subtle. He volunteers to pair up with others before Emily can assign him something with Spencer; he ignores the looks he directs his way and leaves him behind to room with JJ while he pairs up with Steven. Maybe it’s even more obvious, maybe the looks he’s getting now are far harder to deal with than the ones before but he’s made his bed. Now he’ll lie in it.

And he’ll pointedly refuse to acknowledge the hurt looks Spencer is shooting his way. It’s better to ruffle a few feathers now and get over his crush than ruin such a good friendship and drive a wedge through the team, even if his gut twists and his heart protests as Spencer furrows his brow and looks at his feet.

★

Spencer is fully aware that his chances with Luke are slim to none -- he’s not delusional -- but boy does it hurt being avoided like the plague. It takes him back to school, when he was either politely ignored, mocked from a distance or straight up bullied, when nobody could associate themselves with him without risking a beating of their own.

As soon as the case is over, he declines Emily’s invitation to go for a drink at her place with the rest of the team, instead opting to go out by himself. There’s a small, hole-in-the-wall joint a few blocks from his apartment that he’s been to a few times; it’s low-key and reasonably quiet, and the food is nice, too. It’ll do him good, he thinks, to get out of his head a bit with a few drinks and a book or three. He’s met the guy who owns the place a few times, and no-one pays enough attention to care that he’s reading a book at a bar instead of solemnly staring into a pint or gyrating on the dance floor, neither of which especially appeal to him.

As predicted, the bar is quiet, so he orders a drink and some nachos and heads to a table in the back. He used to hate bars; so full of people and germs he tended to avoid them at all costs. Now though, he finds the background noise soothing, the chatter and music a comforting backdrop to his own isolation. And on days like today, after difficult cases and tricky emotional minefields to navigate, it’s the perfect setting to sit quietly and read, far more preferable than the deafening silence of his apartment.

For some reason, though, he simply cannot get his mind off Luke. He was so hopelessly gone for him and it was making everyday tasks that much harder. Even psyching himself up to get out of bed and go to work was proving more and more difficult: knowing he would have to face the man he loved so much who clearly did not love him back was bordering on psychological torture at this point.

His one saving grace, though, was that he’d always been able to take refuge in the fact that they were friends. That even if he could never have Luke kiss him or take him on a date or sleep in his bed, he could have his friendship. He’d have the warm smiles and hugs and inside jokes and that would be enough. But now even that was seeming like a farflung pipe dream. Had he figured him out? Did he realise Spencer’s feelings for him and feel disgusted? Violated even?

It’s only after Spencer’s been reading the same page over and over for nearly 10 minutes that he gives up and orders another drink. If he can’t distract himself, he may as well drown his sorrows now he’s here.

And drown them he does. He finally stumbles onto the pavement outside the bar in the small hours of the morning feeling a little dazed and confused, and he squints his eyes as he tries to get his bearings. He lives round here, he knows that much, but where? He’s looking around for a taxi when a man he’d seen sitting not far from him in the bar approaches him.

“Hey, baby,” he grins, checking Spencer out as obviously as he’d been doing inside.

It takes Spencer’s mind only a few seconds to recognise that he’s in a potentially vulnerable or dangerous situation but he can’t for the life of him sort through his muddled brain fast enough to figure out the correct response, here. Instead he stares dumbly at the man in front of him, trying to not look as scared as he feels.

“You looking for a good time?” the man asks, reaching a hand forward to pet crudely at his face. Spencer wishes his flinch wasn’t so obviously borne from terror, but he’s sad and drunk and confused so all he can do is shake his head aggressively and back away. “Aww, come on. I’m a catch, I promise.”

Spencer jumps back further, his back hitting a brick wall as he finally finds his voice. “No, leave me alone, thank you,” he says, trying to sound firm but only sounding scared shitless. The man is huge, Spencer is not, and the street is quiet. Spencer does not like any of these variables, let alone a cocktail made from them.

The man laughs cruelly, but before he gets a chance to respond another beefy guy he recognises from inside the bar comes over, cigarette in his hand, and clocks the situation. “Oi,” he shouts aggressively, approaching the two of them. “Who the fuck do you think you are? Dude said no.”

“Oh yeah? And what are you gonna do about it?”

Before Spencer can blink, the beefy guy punches his assailant square in the eye, causing him to cuss them both out before telling Spencer he isn’t even worth the trouble and leaving to lick his wounds. “Hey, you okay?” the beefy dude asks, voice much softer when talking to Spencer. “You need me to call someone?”

At this moment, the only person Spencer wants is Luke. He’s shaken up and so sad, and even if Luke is sort of the reason for that, he has to try, right? Maybe… maybe he just was having a bad day and it isn’t Spencer at all. He could call JJ but even her cuddles wouldn’t scratch the itch that’s burning away at his skin, so he finally shakes his head at the guy looking at him with concern. “No, no it’s okay,” he says slowly, voice catching a little. “I know who to call.”

★

Luke also says no to Emily’s invitation, instead heading back to his own place and cracking open a bottle of wine before plonking himself in front of the team and appreciating the cuddles Roxy chooses to bestow on him. He throws in an oven pizza sometime around 11pm and eats it, laughing humourlessly at the scene for a moment. God, if his colleagues could see just how pathetic he is Emily would have to boot him off the team.

The wine and the warm temperature of the room have him dozing off on the sofa by midnight but he’s woken up abruptly by his phone ringing not long after. The clock on the wall says 1.50am so this is either a case or an emergency; blearily he picks it up to see Spencer’s name on the screen and he can’t slide his finger to answer it fast enough.

“Spencer?” he asks, voice full of concern.

The only reply is a choked off sob, making Luke sit up on high alert. “Spence, what’s wrong?” his voice is gentle but determined, he wants to know what’s wrong so he can fix it damnit.

“Can you-- Can you come and get me?” Spencer asks tearfully. He sounds hesitant like he thinks Luke might say no or be angry with him which doesn’t make any sense. He’d never feel like that, not for anything Spencer needs from him.

“Of course,” he reassures him, gently, still a little bewildered by the absurdity of it all. He springs into action and leaps off the sofa, slipping into some trainers and grabbing his keys. “Where are you, Spence? I’m on my way to the car.”

Spencer rattles off an address before he says, “Wait, don’t go, can you stay on the phone with me?”

Luke’s heart damn near melts at that but he obeys and stays on the phone with him, mumbling platitudes and promising he’s on his way the whole five minute drive until he pulls up in front of the address Spencer gave him, immediately spotting the younger man hunched down against a wall. He parks the car quickly and rushes over, crouching down in front of Spencer and gently pulling his head away from his knees so he can look into his eyes. He immediately recognises he’s drunk and sighs internally, hoping this won’t be too impossible.

“Hey, Spence, what’s going on?” he asks earnestly, holding onto the man’s forearms partially to help steady himself and partially to offer a noninvasive point of contact for Spencer.

“Sad,” Spencer says, looking into Luke’s eyes with wide, honest eyes. “You’re angry at me.”

“What?” Luke asks incredulously. “I’m not angry at you, Spencer.”

“Yes,” Spencer nods enthusiastically. “You wanted to work with other people on the case today. You were ignoring me.”

He’s not quite slurring his words but it’s close, and if Luke wasn’t so concerned about the situation at hand he’d find it adorable. “Oh, Spencer, no,” he protests, a sinking feeling in his chest. His own insecurities and fears had got the better of him and he’d managed to make Spencer feel bad about himself. “That was unrelated and not your fault at all, okay? It’s complicated and definitely not a conversation to have on the ground outside a bar at 2am, but we can talk about it somewhere else if you’d like. Do you want me to take you back to your place?”

Spencer looks back at him. “No, don’t want to be alone, please don’t leave me on my own, Luke,” he says, eyes wide in fear this time, not honesty.

“Okay, okay,” he placates him. “Would you like to come back to mine?”

Spencer launches forward to hug Luke, burying his face into his neck and Luke takes the opportunity to relish the feeling of Spencer’s lithe body against his own, the intimacy he craves so deeply finally being awarded in a small way. “Should I take that as a yes?” he chuckles.

As soon as they get into Luke’s apartment, he gets to sobering Spencer up. He’d managed to pry the number of drinks he’d had out of him in the car, and as soon as they get back he butters him some toast and gives him a glass of water to drink on the sofa while he fills up another glass and grabs some advil.

“How’s that, Spence, are you okay?” he asks softly as he joins him on the sofa where Spencer is dutifully munching down the toast while late-night TV plays in the background.

“Yeah,” he whispers, smiling up at Luke, already looking more lucid than he did on the street, though he suspects part of the reason was he was scared and a bit disoriented then and now feels safe. “Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me, Spencer,” he smiles back, patting his knee affectionately as he pours him another glass of water. “Have your toast and another glass of water and then you can have a shower, if you like. It’ll help ground you and warm you up a bit.”

Spencer’s compliant through it all, which is obviously desirable, but he’s also quiet. He takes the hoodie Luke chucks his way without comment and slips it on -- Luke very pointedly does not think about how good he looks -- before looking to him for his next direction.

His eyes are much clearer now and he seems far more sad than drunk, so Luke steers him back to the sofa and hands him a blanket. “Hey, Spencer,” he says, waiting for him to look up before continuing. “What’s going on? Why did you need me to pick you up?”

Spencer fidgets with the blanket as he answers. “Well, I went to the bar to stop thinking, like distract myself, but it didn’t really work so I just decided to have some wine instead, which was really nice and I liked the fuzziness, but then when I left there was this man. He came up to me and was trying to… like he was trying to ask me to sleep with him,” he risks a quick look up to check if Luke is listening to him but averts his eyes from the intense stare when he realises he is. “But I couldn’t remember what I was supposed to do and I panicked but then this man came out of the bar and he punched the other guy and helped me but then I called you so he didn’t have to do anything else.” His voice is nervous as he talks, clearly unsure of himself from the way he darts around from point to point, his typical eloquence evading him.

“I’m sorry, Spencer,” Luke says, earnestly. “I’m sorry that happened to you but I’m even more sorry that you were sad enough to drown your sorrowsbecause of me. Tomorrow, I promise we can talk about this and I’ll explain everything, but right now I think you should sleep. You can take my bed or the sofa tonight, whichever one makes you feel more comfortable, and then I’ll make you whatever you want for breakfast in the morning and we can chat. How does that sound?”

Spencer looks satisfied for now, cocking his head to the side. “Hm, can I have pancakes?” he asks.

Luke laughs fondly at that, leaning forward to ruffle Spencer’s hair lightly as he tries not to read into it when Spencer leans into his touch. “Are you kidding?” he teases. “You’re looking at the pancake maker extraordinaire right here.” He relishes Spencer’s giggle at that, pleased at how relaxed he looks now he knows Luke isn’t angry at him. “Pancakes in the morning. For now, where would you like to sleep?”

“The sofa’s fine,” Spencer says softly, a small smile playing over his face as he follows Luke with his eyes as he stands up to collect some blankets and pillows. “Thank you, Luke.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” he smiles back, and hands him the extra blankets and cushions. “We’ll talk in the morning.”

★

Spencer wakes up to the sound of dog paws on wooden floors and is momentarily confused -- he does not have a dog nor wooden floors -- before the events of last night flood into his head with a crashing wave of humiliation. He sits up abruptly, blinking his eyes against the soft grey light of the gloomy day, and looks around until he meets Luke’s eyes where he’s sat drinking a cup of coffee at the dining table.

He knows he’s flushing an embarrassing shade of red but he can’t help it, this whole situation is so bizarre. “Good morning,” he finally says.

“Morning Spencer,” Luke says, hiding his far-too-wide smile behind his coffee mug. “Did you sleep okay?”

He just nods and hums in response, before excusing himself and rushing to the bathroom for a small semblance of privacy. Looking in the mirror, he splashes his face with some cold water and fiddles with his hair until it’s sat the way he wants it to before taking some deep breaths in a vain attempt at composure. He’s sort of in love with Luke, being in his apartment like this is mildly intoxicating.

Eventually, he surfaces back in the main living area where Luke’s already started on the pancakes. “Hey, you good?” he calls over his shoulder as he flips the pan, a delish smell intoxicating the kitchen.

“I’m good,” Spencer confirms, joining him in the kitchen for a front row seat of Luke cooking. Chatting menially together as the pancake stash slowly builds, Spencer gathers all the toppings at Luke’s direction before they move to sit at the table and start tucking in, both trying to ignore the rising tension at what they both know is coming.

“You’re being so nice to me now but all throughout the case you barely looked at me, I mean you couldn’t even share a room with me in the hotel,” Spencer says after a few moments of silent apprehension as they have their first bites. “Is it… is it because I’m gay?” His voice drops to a whisper, face contorting from confusion to apprehension, feeling a little nervous that Luke might get angry now he’s reminded him of it.

“What, no, Spencer, of course not,” Luke says defensively. “God, I’m not a homophobe. The exact opposite, actually. I’m gay, too.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” Luke puts his knife and fork down and runs a hand over his face as he psychs himself up. “That’s the problem. The truth is, I’m into you, Spencer, very much so. And I’m fully aware that you’re my best friend and you won’t feel the same way, so… that’s a problem. The others were starting to realise so I distanced myself, but it has nothing to do with you, it’s all me so please don’t blame yourself, alright?”

“Oh.” Spencer’s brain is short-circuiting.

“I’m sorry, I just needed to explain why I acted like that.” Luke apologises, sitting forward again. “I know this is probably making you uncomfortable, I can drop you back or call you a cab or something--”

“No,” Spencer says suddenly, snapping back into action as the information finally processes. Leaving right now is the last thing he wants. “No, I’m fine. Sorry, I’m just caught off guard. You… like me?”

“Well, yeah,” Luke smiles, a little awkwardly. “If you want to put it like that.”

“Oh.” He pauses for a moment as everything finally clicks into place. “We are both very stupid.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because the primary reason I was sad and drinking at a bar alone last night was because I am very much in love with you and feared you were pushing me away. That I’d lost my chance forever,” Spencer explains. “I don’t have much experience with relationships, so I didn’t know how to deal with it and when you started acting distant I did the same and… ran away, I guess.”

Luke’s glad that Spencer’s eyes are clear this morning and his eloquence is back or he’d fear he’s still somehow drunk out of his mind still and has no idea what he’s saying. “Oh.” It’s his turn to blank on a response.

“To be honest, Luke, I don’t know where to go from here,” Spencer laughs, a little awkwardly.

“Let’s start with this,” Luke says, getting up from his seat across the table and sliding into the chair next to Spencer, bridging the gap between the two before he kisses him gently. Spencer’s hand reaches forward to grip the front of his shirt, kissing back with just as much trusting desire as he feels Luke smile against his lips. They part at the kiss’ natural conclusion, pulling back to look at each other, tense awkwardness replaced with a new understanding of one another.

“Yeah,” Spencer smiles. “That feels like a good start.”

It’s a good start, but it’s by no means the end. The heaviness that had weighed between them for so long finally lifts and the lightness that replaces it means they both breathe easier, finishing their pancakes in between shy, cautious looks and shameless giggles. “Do you have anything you need to do today?” Luke asks as he washes their plates up, Spencer perched on the kitchen counter next to him.

“Nope,” Spencer says, smiling at the implication of such an answer.

“Well, what do you feel like doing?” he asks, wearing far too cheeky of a grin for Spencer to avoid leaning down and planting a kiss on his lips.

“Hm,” Spencer ponders, looking out the window at the rainy day. “I think movies and snacks would be perfect if I have you as company.”

“You smooth little thing,” Luke teases, poking Spencer’s side with a wet finger and delighting in the giggle that escaped his lips. “That sounds perfect to me.” He washes the frying pan last and quickly wipes down the kitchen before they head to the sofa, arms piled high with all the crisps, chocolate and cookies they can find in his cupboards. Spencer also digs about in the freezer and finds a pint of ice cream to share, which they feed each other bites of later in a sickeningly sweet, cliched moment of tenderness.

Luke chooses the first movie, picking out a Marvel film that Spencer ends up actually enjoying, though Luke can’t exactly say the same about Spencer’s choice, an obscure period piece from the 1960s. Still, he cuddles him close and pays attention to every minute. If it matters to Spencer, it matters to him.

And if wasting the day away with movies, snacks, and heart to hearts turns out to be exhausting enough that Spencer just has to stay the night again, this time sharing Luke’s bed with him and Roxy, then they’ll just have to make the absolute most out of such a terribly inconvenient situation. And they’ll deal with how to hide a 2 night love-fest from a team of profilers in the morning, because they’re far too oblivious to realise they already know.

Tags: @johanna-swann @pretty-b0yy

#criminal minds #criminal minds writing #criminal minds fic #ralvez #spencer reid #luke alvez #criminal minds angst #my writing

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sunflowers-heart · 5 years ago

Text

Sweet Nothings

Pairing: Kíli x Reader

Word count: 3,898

Warnings: None

Author’s note: None

Synopsis: Kíli is not aware of the impact his words have upon you.

„Is she avoiding me?” Kíli inquired, his piercing gaze glued to your back when you were riding a horse barely few steps ahead, leaving the Durin brothers at the very end of The Company. Not that any of them were complaining, on the contrary, it was a perfect opportunity to finally share a word or two about the current situation, which—surprisingly or not—seemed to be way more serious than the wargs chasing after you all. “I mean it, she did not spare me a single glance since we escaped the Goblin Town!”

“I think you may be a little bit overacting,” Fíli stated matter-of-factly. “Tell me, when was the last time you had a conversation with Bifur, hm?”

“And why would I have a conversation with him?” he frowned in confusion.

“To prove my point that sometimes you chat with one person, then another and there is nothing odd about it. It does not mean that she is avoiding you, she is simply… occupied.”

Kíli thought for a while about his brother’s words, valuing them as most likely wiser but not convincing in the slightest. It has been two whole, long days since you managed to escape the Goblin Town and so, two whole, long days since he had a chance to hear your voice calling his name or to see you laugh at something he said. The bitter sensation was growing in his mind, making him wonder whether you were bored by him already or maybe he unintentionally did something to offend you… He was not perfect, often acting before thinking but he would never make anything to hurt your feelings and especially not to alienate you.

“Or maybe…” Kíli lowered his voice to the conspirational whisper. “She thinks I am too old for her.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Seriously!” he hissed and slowed his pony down a little bit to give even more space between them and The Company heading further east. “When I think about it now, this might be the reason. Before reaching Rivendell we were chatting and somehow it slipped me that I am seventy seven. Seventy seven, Fíli! How old do you think she is?! Humans age different so maybe… five? The gap would be devastating, no wonder she does not want to talk to me anymore!”

Fíli barely could contain the amused smile, hearing more and more ridiculous explanations flowing from his brother’s mouth.

“I can assure you that this is not the issue. And I highly doubt that she is five.”

At that point, Kíli was ready to tear his hair out. He has been observing you for some time, desperately trying to find out what could be the reason for your cold behaviour toward him but no matter for how long he was deducing, there was no conclusion. You were acting as normal as always with everyone else beside him and this fact hurt him much more than he wanted to admit.

“But,” Fíli continued, noticing Kíli’s discouragement. “I can try doing a little reconnaissance if you want.”

His eyes immediately shone with new excitement and the happy expression did not fade from his face for the rest of the day, until the camp had to be settled again. Many hours later, when the sky became completely dark and the only source of light was a campfire, Kíli sat at the opposite side of you, pretending to be focused on his bowl of soup but realized that he has completely lost the appetite.

You were so close and so far away at the same time.

Naturally, his first idea was to simply approach you and ask about the change in your behaviour on the same day he realized it, but he found himself unable to speak to you. You were busy packing your stuff and he stood there, like a total oaf, staring at you completely silently, when no words escaped his lips and none seemed to be appropriate for the situation. Kíli has never felt as helpless as then, the courage leaving him when he was too afraid of accidentally pushing you further away.

He cared, he cared so much that it made him back away. After all, watching you happily spend time with the others was a better option than seeing you upset at him.

Kíli sighed deeply and took a small sip of the dinner, forcing himself to eat, knowing that he will need energy tomorrow morning. For now, he was hoping for Fíli to find a reason, his calm and collected attitude could provide more informations that if he approached you, acting so strange and very unlike him. Perhaps that was the reason—his behaviour tiring you, although at the beginning of the quest you were not giving him signs as such.

On the contrary, you seemed to be very pleased with his company during your first night as a guard.

“I just want to make sure that you won’t mess something up,” he teased you then, sitting next to you on the mossy ground, back resting against a giant, fallen tree trunk.

“It is more likely that I will mess something up if you will keep distracting me with your talking, Kíli,” you stated, peeking at him and the sword he was holding on the knees, preparing to sharpen it before the next day of march.

“Fair point,” he winked. “Consider it as a training then. How well can you be aware of your surroundings with such a great distraction?”

There was something in the depth of his voice, how low it was, how slightly hoarse after the long day, which made your heart melt with warmth and spill all over your body like a golden honey, the tingly, lovely sensation bringing smile to your lips. His eyes were so dark and mesmerizing you could stare at them for hours and still not get bored, the emotions visible in them like in an open book. It never failed to amaze you how in one moment he could look at you with such a gentle, caring manner and in the next one, if the enemies were approaching, there was a wild rage within them, burning passion and unstoppable bravery.

You thought that he was not afraid of anything, not even for a moment.

“Is this how low you think of me?” you gasped and placed a hand over your heart in a theatrical manner. “I would never get distracted, not when the whole Company is counting one me.”

“You take this so seriously.”

“And you do not? I mean,” you paused for a while, recollecting your thoughts. “We are a team and we need to protect each other. If I can help by staying awake and looking for intruders then I will do my best then.”

“Just like you did your best when Balin asked you to protect the campfire from the rain when everyone was packing and you stood over the ember with your coat spread open like some kind of winged animal?” he chuckled and even though you did not consider it as embarrassing, the way he laughed at the memory itched your heart a little bit.

“If you are going to mock me for doing what others asked me to, then–“

“I am not mocking you,” he interrupted, now the tone of his voice much more serious. “I did not mean that. I actually think it was very sweet of you, even though you were completely soaked afterwards and the fire went off anyway.”

“How is that sweet in any way then?”

“In a way, my dear, that you are hardworking and caring.”

It was nice, hearing the compliment from him, especially since you were not expecting it barely few moments ago.

“Obviously,” Kíli continued, now looking back at his weapon and sharpening the edge. “I could go on and on. This is only the tiny peak of your virtues and there is still much more to discover.”

“I think you are exaggerating,” you added, wondering how did he manage to say things like that so naturally, with so much ease, seemingly completely unaware of how much they affected you.

“No way! I intend to name more, if not all of them. Then you will see that I was right and as a prize I will want you to admit that out loud. Moreover, in front of everyone.”

“In your dreams, Kíli!”

“Oh, but you will! You will say that Kíli, the Son of Durin was right all the way and you, my lass, have never been so wrong in your whole life.”

It was hard to not laugh at his words, especially considering the hilarious tone of the voice he used to recite the statement. You almost did not notice when half of the night passed by then, the peaceful forest allowing the whole Company to rest before the dawn.

Kíli cherished this memory as promising. He was coming back to it many times before falling asleep, recalling your smile and words, trying to remember as much as possible from it. He did not lie when he made the vow of naming all your advantages and so, the next day he surprised with yet another detail about your personality, you did not previously pay attention to.

“And what do we have there?” Kíli mused as he approached you, while you were trying to sew up the hole in your breeches left by a branch during the warg’s chase. “If that is not our beloved, very talented and no less skilled friend?”

You peeked at him, confused.

“At that point you are just making it up.”

“How could I.” He showed you his bright teeth in a charming smile.

“I am just sewing up my trousers, everyone can do that,” you pointed out, which made Kíli gasp loudly.

“But can they do it with such a precision? Could they ever look so adorable with that focused face? And do they have that tiny, sweet little wrinkle at the bridge of the nose? I highly doubt that!”

You muttered something about him being ridiculous and incomprehensible, and came back to your work, not wanting him to notice how the amount of compliments—although, most likely, said as a joke—was embarrassing you.

The scenario repeated few more times, each one of them Kíli surprising you with the amount of knowledge and wide vocabulary. You were scolding yourself for allowing the first impression of him to take over your judgment because the more you knew him, the more interesting he was, day after day proving you that in reality, there was still a lot to learn about him.

The compliments he was giving to you were fancy and often making you laugh. Before his little mission to apparently embarrass you with calling out loud every single thing you did right, you doubted that anyone paid attention to the way you were tying shoelaces or styling your hair. And yet, there he was, attentive and always ready to tell you how good you looked, how smart you were, how clever you acted or how your presence brightened up the whole surroundings.

And it was sweet, Kíli’s charm obviously reaching your heart and causing the butterflies to fly in your stomach whenever you spotted him nearby. Soon, you found yourself waiting with an anticipation for the next day just to see him again, to hear him tell some funny story from Ered Luin, to watch him practice shooting with the bow. His adorable, cheerful face occupied most of your thoughts, even in the times where it surely should not—eventually resulting in you falling to the shallow but cold stream after stepping on a particularly slippery stone and Kíli, naturally, shouting after you:

“Hold on, my damsel in distress, your savior is here!”

“Who do you call a damsel in distress?” you frowned while standing up, the water reaching a little above your ankles, but before you could go out of the stream, Kíli was already next to you, effortlessly picking you up as if you weighted nothing more than a feather and throwing you over his shoulder. “What are you–?!”

“I am assisting my lady not-in-distress in crossing the river, what else?”

“Put me down right now, immediately,” you demanded, noticing the curious stares from the rest of The Company who must have noticed your absence. “Kíli, please.”

But he did not listen, instead walking with you out of the small river and only then letting you go on the dry ground. Adjusting your clothes, you murmured a simple: “Thank you”, still rather awestruck. You were familiar with the differences between Men and Dwarves and yet, witnessing him in action was always impressive.

“I am much stronger than I look, I know,” he wiggled his eyebrows at you. “I also have many other ace’s up my sleeves, you will see.”

His boldness was both intimidating and alluring and you did not want to lie to yourself, pretending that you did not like it. Perhaps it would be better to face him about this, to talk about yours and his feelings and then decide what to do next. The rest of The Company was not blind, they must have seen what was going on between you two and they deserved an explanation, too.

Your plans changed drastically when you found out the harsh truth during an innocent coincidence, which allowed you to see his real intentions—and the conclusion broke your heart.

Rivendell was like a dream, a town in clouds, completely separated from the dangers of the outside world and it was hard to tell whether you were staying there for few hours, days or even years. Overwhelming peace and harmony blinded your senses and muted the natural instincts which were telling you that soon it was the time to move forward. Until then, however, not you, nor the rest of The Company could deny an invitation for dinner with music and chatting.

Sitting at the opposite side of the table, you peeked at Kíli from time to time, in between admiring the unusual landscape. The Elves, although visibly not understanding Dwarves’ manners, were kind and gentle, bringing new plates and playing on the instruments to make your stay as pleasant as possible. Golden sun spilled over the marble floor and in its light you noticed how Kíli’s hair, now neatly washed and pinned with a bead, were having some burning red and deep chocolate reflections. What caught your attention the most, however, were his eyes and the soft, loving gaze, which happened to not linger on you for more than a second.

Instead, you noticed the meaningful looks and discreet smiles sent to the Elves.

Deciding to focus on your meal, you started to feverishly wonder, when did you make a mistake and how could you not notice the simple fact that it was not Kíli’s attraction toward you causing him to act this way, but rather his personality and natural charisma. He was so open, easily astonished by anything new, eager to try everything and never hesitating to make a first step. It was in his nature to charm, to talk, to flirt, to love and to live.

You were not a difference in his life, but an opportunity.

Despite what you hoped for, the first and last night in Rivendell was full of sorrow and unanswered questions.

“May I join?” Fíli’s voice brought you back to present, to the camp in the woods, the fire in front of you and the bowl full of still untouched soup.

“Sure.” You moved aside to give him more space to sit on the fallen tree trunk, which was now used as a bench.

“I thought you seem troubled,” he continued. “Can I help you somehow?”

If his attentiveness surprised you, you did not let it show.

“I am just tired,” you lied. “It has been a long day.”

“Indeed…” He accepted your excuse and pointed at the bowl. “You do not have to eat that if you do not want to, you know? Nobody will get angry.”

Only then you remembered about your dinner and looked at it as if the bowl has just magically appeared in your hands.

“You may be right,” you nodded. “I am not hungry.”

“Well then, I can only hope that this is not some illness spreading because Kíli seems to lost his appetite, too.”

Immediately you peeked at the other side of the campfire and spotted him sitting next to Bombur, blank gaze glued to the burning wood. Apparently, he was no less troubled than you were.

“I hope so, too,” you muttered and eventually decided to try a first spoon.

If you want something done, do it yourself—or so Kíli repeated to himself while marching angrily toward the front of The Company, where you were walking side by side with Ori. Fíli’s intervention was helpful, obviously, but it still led him nowhere, not knowing what exactly caused you avoid him all of a sudden. His ominous words were not making it easier either.

“She is worried.”

Kíli blinked few times, hoping for the further explanation which did not come.

“About what…?”

“Something regarding you, I guess.” Fíli shrugged. “I do not know the details.”

“That much I know, brother, I was hoping for the details precisely! How can I do anything about it when I have no idea what is going on?” Kíli kicked the small rock which was laying on his way on the road. “I would even apologize but I do not know what for, so that would never work.”

His brother’s look was very meaningful, just like the smile on his lips.

“You like her.”

“Of course I do, everyone likes her.”

“No, no. You like her. More than the others.”

Kíli glared at him suspiciously.

“Whatever you are implying…”

“You know very well what I am implying.”

“… It won’t work because she currently hates me.”

“She does not hate you,” Fíli sighed. “Listen, just try talking to her. I can assure you that if you talk it thoroughly, everything will be fine.”

Kíli was not sure about it but he did not have many other options. Eventually, he decided to approach you and confront about the whole situation, hoping that you won’t try to escape this time. When he finally fell into step with you, he called your name, the look of determination on his face.

“Can we talk for a moment?” he asked and noticed how for a single second your eyes wandered around in an attempt to find yet another excuse—but found none.

“Sure…” you nodded then and slowed down the pace so you could stay alone with him at the end of the group. “What do you want to talk about?”

“About us.”

“Us?” you snorted.

“Yes.” Kíli gently touched your arm and stopped you mid-tracks, making you face him. “What happened? I thought we were doing just fine, why the sudden change?”

It was painful to look at those dark eyes of his, full of remorse and confusion. There was no doubt that he genuinely did not see his own mistake and you could not decide whether it angered or upset you more. Either way, he deserved an explanation.

“We were doing perfectly fine,” you admitted slowly. “Bu the point is… Oh, Kíli, you cannot say all those words and expect me to not fall in love with you.”

Your confession made him speechless. He was staring at you as if he saw you for the first time—or as if you were some kind of goddess allowing only him to experience your presence. He opened his mouth, attempting to answer you but could not find the right words and so he closed them, reminding you of a fish out of water.

Crossing the arms, you patiently waited for his answer, feeling the thrill of fear over what you were going to hear. That your emotions were ridiculous? That you should not take the innocent game that seriously?

“I–Are you in love with me?” Kíli simply wondered and when the word ‘love’ escaped his mouth, he smiled.

Truly, honestly, hopefully.

“Of course I am,” you sighed deeply. “But unfortunately, it was a little bit too late when I realized that you are not.”

Then it struck him. The memory of the evening spent in Rivendell, how cheerful you were while approaching this place and how your attitude drastically changed over the dinner. The funny situation when he accidentally mistook an Elf with She-Elf still echoing in his mind but not as vivid and clear as the pained look on your face back then. There was a sadness behind your smile and he was too excited to notice it.

Your name danced on his tongue when he whispered it and approached you, cupping both of your hands in his and licking his lips before giving you an answer.

“You are mistaken,” he started. “I am in love with you and Mahal knows that I was since I first laid my eyes upon you. Everything I said about you was no less that truth itself and I really do admire you in everything you do. Even in the way you gracelessly fell into that river.”

Light peeking from between the branches landed on the side of his face, giving his eyes more depth and colour, and he squeezed your hands tighter after noticing how the corners of your lips were trembling, the happiness after hearing his confession not possible to hide anymore.

“And regarding to what happened in Rivendell,” Kíli continued. “I was just being a fool and you should know that sometimes I tend to be one. A really big, Dwarven oaf. It was certainly one of those moments but it would never change the way I feel about you, only you. You are everything to me and I love you just the way you are. I love your smile and your laugh, the stories you are telling, how helpful and dedicated you are and how huge your heart is! I love that you decided to join us on this adventure because I love seeing you everyday, saying ‘good morning’ and ‘goodnight’ to you. And I love your flaws, too, the ones I did not mention before. You are aware that I am not free of them either, but that is exactly what makes us us and I would never change anything in you because in my eyes you are perfect just the way you are, with everything you carry in your soul. Only that way the picture is complete.”

Sunlight swirled in the corners of your teary eyes, Kíli’s hand never letting go of yours and The Company far ahead of you two. Still, there was no rush to chase after them, not when you have just realized that all you have ever wanted was right in front of you.

Kíli took a step closer and in an answer you slowly leaned forward, closing your eyes, until your forehead rested against his and the tips of your noses barely brushed against each other. It was a perfect afternoon, the one worth remembering, as you stood there in the middle on the forest bathed in the bright, golden sunlight, and there was nothing which could disturb the peace of your connected hearts.

#kili x reader #kili #kili imagine #the hobbit #the hobbit fanfiction

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