#but then my brain told me that looks wrong so i quickly sketched the rest of kali i felt like sketching outside of box | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

shingia · 2 years

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not many people would be willing to be used to prove eren jaeger wrong. but jean kirstein would, as long as he gets something out of it...

CHAPTER 7 : JUST A SKETCH

↳ jean kirstein x f!reader | series masterlist

↳ cw: cursing, but i think that’s all??

↳ THIS IS LONG LONG LONG OVERDUE IM SO SORRY OMG. i was planning on making it longer but finally decided that chapter 8 will be the long one <3

<- CHAPTER 6

“that was the best meal i’ve ever had in my entire life” you plopped down on the couch, a hand resting on your stomach: “i’m so full i don’t think i'll ever be able to stand up again”.

as usual on Sasha’s Special Sundays, lunch had stretched for many hours; but the digestive fatigue was finally starting to kick in, as proved by the progressive decrease of everyone’s energy.

after bringing the plates back to the kitchen - where armin had volunteered for dishes duty - eren collapsed on the other half of the couch, swinging his legs across your lap with a slight wince of pain.

“still sore from yesterday?” you asked him, poking his calves with your index finger.

“yeah... guess it’s my punishment for being the best player on the team” he ironically told you. as much as he loved to appear confident when it came to basketball, you knew he was still blaming himself for his ‘tantrums’ during the game, as he had called them.

sat on the armchair, sasha was rummaging through her netflix watchlist for the hundredth time this week. even if some of you might’ve had some studying left to do for the weekend, there was no way you would be able to get your brains to work after such a meal. which is why mikasa and you had planned ahead and spent your entire saturday morning working on your assignments.

“i’ve been thinking...” eren spoke again, “it’s been a while since we all went out together”.

“it’s been a week” armin intervened from the kitchen.

“yeah, a while” eren replied without noticing his friend’s eye roll, “anyways, who’s down to go to the club with me on thursday?”.

“i am!” connie and sasha exclaimed in unison. but their answer was so predictable you were pretty sure eren wasn’t even asking them.

what was more uncertain, on the other hand, was your reply and mikasa’s; which probably explained why eren was pleasantly surprised to see that both of you accepted the invitation rather quickly. and to think he had prepared a series of arguments to convince you...

“i don’t even know why you keep asking me” armin told eren now that his answer was the only one left, “you’re gonna end up dragging me there anyways, whether i want it or not”.

eren did not even try to deny that, and he took it as a yes. his head resting on a couple of pillows, he looked satisfied to know that you would all be spending your thursday night as dutiful college students would. he liked going out with his classmates, but it was never as fun as going out with all of you.

but sasha had one last request before starting the random movie she had picked - one that everyone had seen at least twice - and you suspected it might be a request related to the hushed discussion she’d had with connie just a few seconds ago.

“can jean tag along?”

eren turned his head to the side to look at her. you already knew the pleading smile on sasha’s lips was making it hard for him to say no.

but although you were keeping a focused eye on the tv screen, you could feel someone’s gaze on you, and based on the angle, you figured it was most probably connie’s - who wasn’t one for subtle looks anyways.

“yeah... i guess they’ll let anyone in” eren shrugged, spreading faint chuckles across your living room.

during lunch, connie had courageously tried to make eren admit that yesterday’s game, as well as the evening you had all spent at jean and marco’s, had brought about a change of heart in him. but your friend had denied everything, only admitting something along the lines of ‘he’s more tolerable’, which was already a good start, in your opinion.

—————

on very rare occasions, sasha was in class and you weren’t.

this morning was one of these occasions, for the pure and simple reason that she and connie had an oral presentation around 10:30, for which they weren’t ready at all, and therefore, had decided to meet on campus an hour early to work on it.

as for mikasa, she had the misfortune to spend her entire morning in chemistry exams, for which she, however, had worked very hard.

in other words, you had the apartment all to yourself on this windy tuesday morning. and it seemed like a good opportunity to sort a few things out with someone who hadn’t quite left your mind since sunday.

but that’s not how you had phrased things when you had texted jean to ask if he could come over. no, it had been much easier to find a silly excuse like requesting his help in marketing - even though you barely mentioned that topic in one of your classes.

the truth was, you were just clinging to any excuse that would hide the fact that you just wanted to see him.

“are these new chairs?” he asked when you walked past the kitchen on your way to the living room.

it was barely 9:30 (you didn’t expect him to be so quick to come), yet he had declined any offer for coffee or tea.

“they are” you answered, and slowly came to the realization that sasha must’ve already invited him over at least once.

but based on the way he made himself comfortable on the couch, you began to think he had probably been there much more than once.

a few seconds of silence followed your last words, during which you tried to figure whether or not you should be looking at him. he certainly was looking at you, almost as if he was trying to find something hidden in your facial expressions.

“so” you cleared your throat as you sat down next to him, “about sunday...”

“aaand there it is” jean let out a sigh, pressing his lips in a thin line.

“shut up, let me finish” you protested, tucking your legs under yourself, “i want to apologize. i shouldn’t have told you to be nicer to your mom, it was none of my business”.

“you don’t have to apologize, you were right” he admitted, “i know i can be harsh with her”.

once again, silence fell upon the room. a more awkward, more tensed silence. something you felt could only be stopped by you being 100% honest towards him.

‘yes, i heard what your mom said about your ex. yes, of course i asked sasha about her. yes, i feel bad for you. and yes, i’ll understand if our relationship makes you feel too uncomfortable to keep it going until saturday’

four things to tell him, nothing more.

four things you’d had much time to think about in the last forty eight hours. yet jean had this fantastic ability of making you rethink everything without even being aware of it.

so you kept quiet and resorted to simply opening your laptop, which you had left on the coffee table before answering the door.

after stretching his arms up with a smothered yawn, he leaned forward to get a better view of your screen. truthfully, he wasn’t that good in marketing, but turning you down had been absolutely out of the question.

“oh, well this is actually pretty easy” he told you, and you hated how at ease he seemed when you were practically holding your breath from touching shoulders with him, “but your professor’s explanation sucks”.

the notebook he then pulled out of his bag looked like it had been through hell and back, filled with sheets of paper that were full of his messy handwriting.

‘go straight to the point and tell him you like him’ the memory of mikasa’s voice slowly reappeared in your brain, spiraling in your mind as you watched him open the notebook and place it next to your laptop.

“i don’t know about you, but i think this is much clearer” he told you, pointing at a few specific lines with the tip of a pen that had been lying around on the table, “or wait, i think i have a summary diagram somewhere on the next page”.

you still hadn’t said a word, and was gladly letting him lead the conversation. he seemed more confident than you; or at least, he did look confident until he abruptly slammed the notebook closed, just as he was about to turn the page.

“what’s wrong?” you asked, furrowing your brows when you noticed his eyes had substantially widened.

“nothing. i just realized i brought the wrong notebook” he explained, but didn’t even have time to put in back in his bag that you were already snatching it out of his hands.

“it looks like the right notebook to me” you told him suspiciously, already starting to look for the page you were both looking at just a few seconds ago.

“yeah well it’s not” he answered, already on the defensive, and tried to take it back from your hands. in fact, he looked a bit too defensive for someone whose only fault was to have brought the wrong notebook, “give it back”.

finally, for the first time since he had set foot in your apartment, you felt like you truly had the upper hand on something. and you were planning on keeping it that way.

“or what?” you teased him and stood up from the couch - any opportunity to delay working on marketing was good to take. your eyes were still set on the open notebook, as you frantically turned the pages in hope to find one that you’d recognize.

jean looked pretty panicked now.

“give it back” he repeated, which only made you run to the kitchen to win yourself some time. “you’re insufferable” he groaned, yet he couldn’t allow himself to ‘be the bigger person’ right now. he needed his notebook back. or rather, he needed you to not look at it for too long. so he followed you to the kitchen with hurried steps.

when he entered, the floor was littered with documents which used to be slipped between the pages. you would put them back, but later. once you’d know what jean was so desperately trying to hide from you.

unfortunately, retreating to the kitchen might not have been your best strategic choice. because once your back hit the counter, you couldn’t back away from him any further.

“gotcha” jean smiled victoriously once he had you cornered, before taking the notebook back in a frustratingly calm way - although he was dangerously close to you. had he leaned towards you just a little bit more, you would have felt his brown strands of hair tickling your forehead.

you paused for a second, looking straight into his eyes. you knew he was enjoying this, it was written all over his face. but that is precisely what you decided to turn to your advantage. you made the most of his moment of self-satisfaction to take a step forward, your arm extended towards the notebook, which he had carefully been keeping out of your reach.

“where do you think you’re going?” he asked, pushing you back against the counter with his palm laying flat on your hips.

you wouldn’t have bet on it, but even he looked surprised by his sudden burst of confidence. it was paradoxal, the way his cheeks slightly blushed while his lips were stretching in a smirk.

but the person who spoke right after him wasn’t you.

jean didn’t immediately recognize the voice behind his back. but you did.

“OH GOD. i’m so sorry!” armin gasped, immediately turning away from you, “i thought no one was home!”.

“what the hell are you doing here?” you asked, freeing yourself from jean’s grip without too much effort since he had already taken a step aside, startled by your friend’s intervention.

“i forgot my charger!” armin explained, his eyes barely open as he groped his way through the kitchen.

“open your eyes, we’re decent” you scoffed, before handing him the charger which he had, indeed, left next to the coffee machine.

“thanks” he told you, still cleverly avoiding any eye contact with you or jean and just staring at his feet. he was speaking abnormally fast, “i’ll knock next time. see you later”.

and he left as quickly as he had arrived, muttering a small ‘the only time i use their damn spare key...’ before closing the door behind him.

you knew very well that armin’s interruption would not remain a secret. eren would probably hear about it as soon as he would be back home. and so would sasha and mikasa. armin was a lovely guy, but he had a hard time keeping things to himself. although he preferred to say he was ‘keen on sharing information’.

at least that interruption had the merit of being a great help to you. jean was still a bit dumbfounded by what had just happened, and his grip on the coveted notebook was starting to loosen.

you snatched it from his hands with disconcerting ease, and this time, you knew exactly where to open it.

“don’t-” he started, but gave up on the next words. it was too late.

there was, just like he had told you, a summary diagram on the top right corner of the page. once again, you recognized his handwriting. his o’s that looked like a’s. and his h’s that looked like n’s. but that’s not what caught your eye.

right below the diagram, a multitude of pencil strokes were covering a large portion of the page. the sketch you were looking at was so dark that most of the details appeared in negative space; a technique you figured must have required a lot of practice. but the technique isn’t what surprised you; it was what it had been used for, or rather, who.

jean had taken a few steps back, unconsciously fleeing this situation which put him in a state of immeasurable anxiety. how long would it take you to recognize that every pencil stroke had been made in an attempt to reproduce every detail of your features? something which, by the way, had been no easy thing since he had only been able to catch glimpses of your face back then.

“when did you... draw that?” was the only question you could bring yourself to ask.

it wasn’t so much the sketch in itself that made you struggle to speak up, but the realization that never in your entire life had someone’s representation of yourself looked so beautiful.

“last week” he lied. it was embarrassing enough that you had found one of his drawings, you didn’t have to know that he had been admiring you from afar for about a month now, "can you give it back now?”.

“i didn’t know you could draw” you eluded his request, “it’s really good. you’re talented”.

“thanks. can you give it back now?”

“why me?” you asked, and the fact that you were blatantly ignoring him made him clench his jaw in impatience.

“why not?” he shrugged, but this time he didn’t bother to ask for the notebook, he just took it back by himself, his fingers briefly touching yours.

mikasa’s words came back to your mind in a split second, sinking deeper into your brain as you followed him back to the living room.

there were many more questions you wanted to ask about that sketch. pieces of information that weren’t useful per se, but that you were still curious about. however, you figured he wouldn’t be very willing to answer them since he didn’t even want you to see the sketch in the first place.

it was a pity, really. because jean still had vivid memories of the day he had made it.

three wednesdays ago, the weather wasn’t as warm as it was today. he remembered it had been raining for the entire afternoon, and that gloomy atmosphere was making it impossible to get any work done at his apartment. he knew himself too well, whatever stupid movie would be broadcasted on the tv would seem much more entertaining than studying.

so he had gone to the library, something he never did except for rare studying sessions with marco, usually after realizing that they were both very likely to fail an upcoming exam.

but that day, great minds had thought alike.

it wasn’t unusual for you to spend your afternoons at the library; you were usually accompanied by armin, with whom you really liked to share the kind of peacefulness that emanated from this place.

still, the probability of you coming across jean while walking out of the old building had been low; although not nonexistent.

you only held the door open for him for a couple of seconds, but that brief appearance of yours had remained engrained in his mind like a painting on the walls of his brain.

your fingertips that were barely holding the door handle, your other hand busy looking at the bottom of your bag for armin’s umbrella, the distracted tone of your ‘you’re welcome’ which had followed his awkward ‘thank you’. after that, he knew there wasn’t any chance for him to have a productive afternoon, study-wise at least.

so he drew, mostly; while mentally cursing sasha and connie for skipping so many classes, and therefore preventing him from seeing you much more often. if he couldn't bring himself to actually talk to you, he would’ve at least liked to see you.

it seemed that the only thing for him to be grateful for, at that moment, was the fact that sasha and connie had held their tongue. they knew jean’s interest had been piqued by you a few weeks ago, but based on your lack of reaction when you had held that door for him, he deduced that they hadn’t told you a word about it.

now that he came to think of it, did you even know who he was?

that was a question he had all afternoon to think about.

or rather, he would have, had his train of thoughts not been interrupted by the arrival of someone who had spotted him from the other side of the library.

“studying hard, i see” pieck’s voice - although nothing more than a whisper - startled him. she dropped her bag at her feet, and slumped down on the chair next to him.

“i’m taking a break” jean justified himself, immediately turning the page to hide his sketch from her curious eye.

“a pretty long break... you’ve been drawing for a while now” she corrected him, still keeping her voice down, and he wondered for how long she had been watching him. “nice sketch by the way. are you gonna give it to her?”.

shoot.

“obviously not” jean replied, and at that moment he felt so discouraged by his own answer that he thought about ripping the entire page off and throwing it in the trash, “it’s already lame enough to have a crush on someone who doesn’t even know my name, let’s not humiliate myself even more”.

pieck did not respond immediately. with her arms crossed, she leaned back in her chair and let out a sigh that jean did not really know how to interpret. it was the kind of sigh adults made after witnessing some sort of childish innocence.

her reply came after a few seconds of silence:

“you and porco... you’re the same” she stated very matter-of-factly, “you guys are the kind of people who feel empty when they don’t have someone to direct their affection towards”. she marked a short pause. “i think it’s really sweet”.

“it fucking sucks, you mean” jean mumbled, acerbic, and dropped his pen on the notebook. the nib added another messy line to his sketch.

pieck turned around to give him a glance: “it won’t suck when you’ll find someone who actually cares about you”, and that sentence alone had been enough to destroy any hope of actually getting some work done for the rest of the day.

in fact, that sentence had never really left his mind. sometimes it still prevented him from getting any work done, as it usually induced long sessions of self-reflection.

but right now, as he watched you sit back on your couch, he knew he couldn’t allow that to happen. no, he needed to be alone to sort his thoughts out.

“so... where did we stop before you started being annoying?” he asked, reluctantly opening that notebook once again. he absolutely loathed this page now.

you knew that, in order to answer that question, you needed to enter your password in your laptop - which had had plenty of time to put itself to sleep. but what your mind ordered, your body had some trouble executing.

the truth was that it was getting harder and harder to pretend that your eyes weren’t still drawn to that sketch, though in the least narcissistic way. because you weren’t looking at yourself, you were looking at a version of yourself that only existed in his mind. and there was something almost addictive about it.

your fingers hovering over your keyboard, you still hadn’t answered his first question when he asked another one:

“wanna keep it?”

in the blink of an eye, your gaze shifted from the notebook to his face. from the art to the artist. and you nodded without really thinking about it.

it’s only as he began meticulously tearing the page off that you were able to form a coherent sentence.

“do you draw your friends often?” you asked, still unable to look away from the sketch.

“only the good-looking ones” he replied with a faint smile, and the embarrassed chuckle that slipped out of your lips made him want to scream his lungs out against the pillows.

but he managed to keep his composure, and quietly began leafing through his notebook.

now that you were paying attention to it, you realized how many pages were missing. it seemed obvious that jean did not care much about his marketing notes, but your laptop had been inactive for too long for you to blame him.

“here’s sasha” he told you, pointing at the top left corner of a page dedicated to what looked like an analysis of customer behavior.

you scooted closer to him, leaning forward to admire how well he had captured her lively eyes. he, on the other hand, was admiring something else. you looked so amazed by his silly little sketches, it might have been the first time he felt proud of them.

in fact, and he practically cringed at the thought, it had been quite some time since he hadn’t felt proud of himself in general. except maybe at the end of saturday’s match... but it had been a different kind of pride. one that he knew had been mostly due to the sight of you cheering for him - no, for the team. you were cheering for the team, he reminded himself.

it was a stupid thought, but if his happiness had to be defined by his co-dependency for another person, he was glad his heart had picked someone like you.

jean did not even realize how much he was smiling until he took his eyes off of you to turn to the next page. he didn’t even need to tell you who it was, you would have recognized connie’s face amongst a thousand.

“i thought you only drew good-looking people?” you frowned, and he turned away to hide a snort.

“i’ll make sure to let him know about that comment...”

“i’ll make sure to let him know it made you laugh” you retorted.

“fair enough” he gave up, and let you turn to the next page. and to the following. and the one after... he didn’t have anything to keep from you anymore; so he just leaned back on the couch, fondly watching the excitement on your face every time you found another sketch hidden in the pages.

but the notebook eventually came to an end. and with it, you found yourself abruptly recalled to the reality of your own marketing lessons. but if your motivation wasn’t very high before, it surely was much lower right now. and this was something that jean seemed to quickly understand, based on the way you mirrored his position and rested your back against the pillows.

“what do you think you’re doing?” he asked, suddenly sitting up straight, “i don’t remember you letting me take such long breaks when we were studying at my place”.

you groaned reluctantly, but was forced to admit that he was right. luckily you really didn’t have much to do, and you figured it would be better to get this over with as soon as possible. so you got back to work - that is, if you had even started working at all - and, without much trouble, got everything done within fifteen minutes.

jean liked to think it was all thanks to him... and that’s what you let him believe. he looked too happy not to.

but he did not leave your apartment right away. and it slowly dawned on you that, for the first time since porco’s party, you had no particular reason to be spending time together, except for the simple enjoyment of each other’s company. but neither of you seemed bothered by that.

not once in the hour you spent together did the conversation fall flat. you remembered noticing the same thing the first time you had been to his place; but it was much more striking today, probably due to the almost vulnerable nature of the notebook episode.

in fact, you were pretty sure the conversation could have kept going for much longer, had sasha not come back home around 11.

“well this is disappointing” she stated when she entered the living room, staring at all the marketing-related documents spread on the table. “i thought you meant “studying” with jean”, she said with her fingers in the shape of air-quotes, “and not actually studying with jean”.

“what are you tying to say?” jean raised a hand to stop her from talking more, “that you would’ve preferred to walk in on us?”.

“ew. that’s kind of weird, sash” you backed him up.

both of you were now glaring her up and down, incriminating her with your eyes only.

“ugh, i forgot how annoying you are when you’re together” she sighed, already turning away from you, “anyways, i’m off to my room. don’t do anything i wouldn’t”.

“actually, i think i’m gonna head back home” jean stood up before she could walk away, “my classes start in an hour and i still have a few things to do”.

“oh yeah, of course” you stood up right after him, “thanks again for the help. and for...”, you told him, but didn’t need to finish your sentence for him to understand what you were referring to. the torn page still hadn’t left your hand.

“no worries. i felt inspired” he smiled at you, putting one arm in his denim jacket, “so, i’ll see you guys thursday. text me if you have any more questions”.

sasha and you both waved at him, but the looks on your faces were radically different. your face seemed stuck on a perpetual look of contentment. she, however, was just glaring at you with a mischievous spark in her eyes, which you pretended not to notice until jean had left the apartment.

“what?” you sighed, but as much as you tried to look annoyed, the corners of your lips still refused to go down.

she stayed silent on purpose. letting her grin speak for herself.

“sasha...” you repeated, more pressing, “just spit it out already”.

her grin did not fade, but she finally seemed inclined to talk:

“let’s just say that...”, she started before turning he back on you to head towards her room, “i haven’t seen that look on his face in a big while. and i surely have never seen it on yours before”.

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the-void-writes · 2 years

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Will and Dante Snippets

Thank you @magefaery for the genius idea 😁 These are just some unconnected Winte fluff pieces (thanks @tryingtimi and @bloodlessheirbyjacques for the name 😂 I love it), based off of this little sketch collection

Group-shopping. It was Joe’s suggestion, something to bring the Paradisians and the Eternity crew together. Honestly, the last thing Dante needed was to sit and watch Gazali choose the most outdated clothes in the pile. He sat in the waiting room chair and rested his eyes, trying to tune out the other people talking excitedly to each other, until a weak voice called out to him.

“Dee, you won’t laugh at me, will you?”

Dante wheezed. “If I laugh, you can hit me, because something would clearly be wrong with my brain.”

Will took a deep breath and walked out of the changing room. Dante almost fell out of his seat. His boyfriend’s natural look already made him weak in the knees, but this was something Dante just couldn’t resist: Will was wearing a leather jacket. The shine, the straps, the loose band shirt he wore underneath, he was pure 80’s rock. He stretched his arms over his head, and his shirt rode up a little, and god, Dante wanted to pass out. Scared by his dumbfounded expression, Will turned and looked at himself in the mirror.

“It’s bad, isn’t it?”

Dante rushed over and pulled Will into a hug, trying to control his breathing.

“Do I have permission to say something… indecent?” he whispered.

Will struggled to speak. “Sure.”

“You are so unbelievably gorgeous in leather.”

He hid his face. “Thank you. Was that the indecent part?”

“No.” Dante kissed his neck. “I’m also currently fighting the urge to follow you back into that dressing room.”

“Oh god, Dante.” He buried his head in his jacket as Dante wheezed.

“It’s true, though. You’re the hottest guy I’ve ever met.”

“Dante.”

“Okay, I’ll stop.”

————————

The whole night was just wonderful. Dancing at the palace, stealing some champagne and heading to the rooftop, and watching the planets spin across the atmosphere like their own personal ballet. Dante never would have considered this a fun time, not before Will showed up. His shy smile and soft voice was more magical than Paradise itself. Will had brought Dante’s broken heart back to life, and all he wanted to do was enjoy the bright new future he had been given.

They quickly decided to call it a night, retreating to one of the palace rooms that Gazali graciously offered to guests. Their designated suite looked across a vast ocean, one so deep and clear that it reflected the stars above, as though the sky and sea were one. The view was mesmerizing, but the way that the image sparkled in Will’s eyes was even more captivating. Dante had the grand honor of helping him out of his dress. He set it nicely across a chair, while Will changed into a much more casual sweater. Truth be told, no matter what he wore, he always looked like a prince to Dante. He joined Will on the bed, where they sat peacefully in the darkness, watching the sea through the window. Will’s head fell on Dante’s shoulder.

“I’m so glad I met you,” he whispered.

Dante felt the sting of tears in his eyes. “So am I.”

Will smiled and entwined their fingers together. There was so much sincerity and tenderness in his touch, things that Dante had long forgotten. His voice shuddered as he spoke.

“I don’t know if I say it enough, but… I love you.”

A warm hand dried the tears rolling down his cheeks. Before he knew it, Will pulled him down into a kiss, still holding his face gently.

“I love you, too,” he whispered.

————————

A pair of arms surrounded Will as he stood at the counter.

“What do you have there?” Dante asked.

“Onions,” Will said, “for the community picnic. I’m trying to make soup.”

He held the knife over one particularly lumpy onion, prodding at it slightly with the tip. Dante smiled amusedly.

“Are you scared it’ll make you cry?”

Will looked away. “No…”

“Aww.” He took the knife from Will’s hands. “Close your eyes, buttercup.”

Will pouted, but did as he said. Dante cut up everything that was on the board. Sure enough, his eyes stung from the smell, and he hid his head in Will’s shoulder.

“Goddamn.”

“It’s okay, Dee,” Will said. “I appreciate the gesture.”

“Okay, for real, this sucks.”

He rushed to the sink to wash off the smell. Will held his shoulders, his eyes also reddened slightly.

“Your noble sacrifice won’t be in vain, my love.”

Dante wheezed. “Oh yeah? What are you offering?”

Will kissed him, and Dante smiled triumphantly.

“Acceptable payment, thank you.”

————————

Will secured the last flower into the wreath on Dante’s head. If anyone else were doing this, he might have protested, but Will had a surprising talent in floral arrangements. Bluebells, marigolds, edelweiss, everything that grew in Paradise’s fields was strung together into a pair of elegant crowns. Dante watched his progress intently, taking in every detail as he used his telekinesis to weave the stems together. Finally, Will sat back down, pondered his handiwork, and started to smile.

“Am I cute?” Dante asked.

“Very,” Will said. “I know you like purple, but the red really makes your eyes pop.”

Dante hid his face. He was supposed to be the suave one here. The sun was starting to peek through Paradise’s clouds of stardust, and Will sat snuggly beside Dante amidst the wildflowers growing just beside their little cottage. Will’s crown of peach roses brought out the color in his cheeks, and his white dress flowed in the gentle spring breeze. Dante couldn’t understand how Will kept getting cuter the more he looked at him, but he wasn’t complaining. He delicately touched the petals of his wreath.

“Beautiful job, baby,” Dante said. “Maybe I’ll try my hand at them next time.”

Will smiled. “You could dip them in gold, like the garlands in the dining room.”

Dante kissed his cheek excitedly. “I love when you read my mind.”

“Aren’t you the empath here?”

He squeaked as Dante pinched his ribs.

“Don’t get sassy, baby. I don’t want to mess up your work.”

Will held his hand to his chest. “Why, Mister Briggs— Here, in a flower field? How scandalous.”

“If Gazali and his boy-toys can hole up in the royal library for a whole night, then we can do it in our own front yard.”

Will shuddered. “Remind me to start buying books from the market instead.”

Dante snickered and scooped him into his arms. “I’ll buy any book you want, as long as you let me hear it.”

“Are you asking me to read you to sleep?”

“… I’m counting that as sass.”

Still holding a now-nervous Will, he stood up and carried him into the cottage. Dante made sure to correct his sass appropriately: with many soft kisses. He also made sure their wreaths were placed neatly on the dresser, where he couldn’t accidentally destroy them. Once again, Dante couldn’t fathom how unbelievably lucky he had been, finding the love of his life.

#writeblr #writing community #chapter snippet

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aminiatureworld · 3 years

Text

Spotlight

Characters: Albedo, Kazuha, Xiao, gn!reader

Word Count: 3,707

Warnings: Swearing

Premise: Modern AU in which the reader’s s/o is famous.

Author’s Note: My first crack at a modern AU and I enjoyed it immensely! My personal media of choice definitely came through in this prompt. I would now kill for Albedo to read Shakespeare. Also streamer Kazuha is an inspired idea, thank you anon for that! Not to mention musician Xiao, truly chef’s kiss.

Albedo

Albedo was a stage actor, both by education and by trade. Starting in high school he began in local productions, before entering into the Mondstadt Theateracademie. After appearing as Estragon in a filmed version of Waiting for Godot, he began to be scouted for various television miniseries, eventually becoming a well-respected film actor.

You arrived somewhere in the middle of his career. Working as a costume assistant at the Academie you had quickly fallen for the inquisitive and deceptively intense soul that exuded every color of emotion onstage, from raging anger to soft sorrow, before stepping into the wings and resuming an aura of utter calm. He had captivated you, both as an actor and as a human being; and when you learned that he had also become slightly infatuated with you, well, it was hard not to feel like you had stepped into a wonderful play, or perhaps simply a wonderful play had been brought to life.

The switch from theatre to screen was certainly a jarring one for both of you. When the first film contract was offered Albedo had stared at it for a long time, rereading it over and over again as the coffee in front of him quickly turned cold.

“Is there something wrong with the contract?” You had asked.

“No, it’s not that. It’s only…”

“Only?”

“Only on stage there is a single audience. You can feel their reactions, can measure their response. There is nothing nebulous about the people around you. But on film you cannot do that. You cannot adjust for time of day, or whether it’s a weekend or a Friday performance. You must let your lines out and hope that they land without even being able to calculate it.”

“It’s not a science experiment my darling,” you had teased.

“Maybe not,” Albedo admitted. Still he continued to read and reread, and it was only until the next afternoon that he had told you his answer.

Still, you had to admit that he made a fantastic actor. The naturally inward part of your partner’s personality, the part that always seemed to jump out the moment he left the stage, worked well to balance with the camera’s need for subtlety, unlike the projection required for stage plays. It was little surprise then that he should grow so popular. Despite all the worries about measuring audience response, there was no doubting the success of Albedo’s acting career.

Being a naturally withdrawn person Albedo mostly stayed off of social media. He had one private Instagram for friends – he didn’t post anything; one private Facebook for family – the only picture was one of you two in the mountains next to a particularly weird looking rock; and WhatsApp – which could barely be counted. Thus when he started blowing up on Twitter – a platform you had a mostly unused account on – the reaction was mostly one of “why are they talking about me?”

Not that Albedo minded fan enthusiasm, indeed when people started showing up in droves at the stage door for him he was always careful to thank everyone collectively and talk to as many people as possible, it just sort of confused him that so many people should take a vested interest in the actor and not just the character.

“It’s because they want to show you how wonderful they think your performances are,” you’d explained.

“I don’t have Twitter,” Albedo deadpanned.

Despite his protests though you sometimes caught him scrolling on your account, face slightly red at all the positive attention. His habit of internal self-deprecation had never truly gone away. That fact became slightly unfortunate in the face of hate comments. It was hard for Albedo not to take things personally. If someone said his acting was shit then you would catch Albedo reading the same line over and over again, as if to achieve mathematical perfection. It was a difficult urge to fight, and you were always careful to give Albedo plenty of reassurance when these things popped up, as well as surreptitiously blocking the trolls that wandered their way onto your dash.

This habit to take things at face value did not apply when you entered the mix. As far as Albedo was concerned you were his partner and no amount of complaining online would make him second guess that or second guess your worth. Even if you thought that you had a better hold on social media assholerly than he did Albedo would still make sure that for every hate comment that floated your way there were at least three compliments on his part. Mentioning you off-handedly in press interviews, saying that he had to go home to his partner, leaving small sketches on post-it notes scattered throughout your apartment, there were no lengths that Albedo wouldn’t go to assure you. And, if you had to admit, these things truly did make you feel better on the days when the small part of your brain said that this wasn’t mindless social media harassment.

Being an actor Albedo had an incredibly fine-tuned sense of the way that people responded to emotions, as if he were performing some grand sort of scientific experiment to see how many people he could sway with his gift. As of such he was always careful that, regardless of his success, things between you were never upturned. You were with him before he was really famous, and you would be there during and after. Albedo loved you deeply; though he often said that he hated romance plays for how sappy they were in his mind your relationship was the one, glowing exception – regardless of the other happy couples in the world. Though it was slightly idealistic, it was the kind of intensity that comprised Albedo’s personality, was the thing that had garnered him so much success.

Albedo loved you deeply, and no amount of surprise movie contracts would change that.

Kazuha

You had to admit that when you had met Kazuha you had no idea about his double life as a streamer. He was merely one of the many singers that came and went to the recording studios, all people eager to unleash their talent on the world. But unlike the rest of them, Kazuha could make you laugh.

Perhaps then it was unsurprising that Kazuha should be a popular streamer. Though his often florid talking style might seem on paper like it would be too grating for streaming, in reality his soft cadence combined with a dry sense of humor made him wildly popular. He rarely lost his temper, making him palatable to those who wanted to have a fun time without blowing their ears out, and when he did lose it his hyper-specific, often nonsensical insults were the stuff of memes. No, in retrospect it was not all that surprising that Kazuha was a beloved streamer.

At heart though, Kazuha had told you over coffee, the enthusiastic and earnest internet sensation was a poet.

“When you’ve had a life as dissonant as mine, how can you not be?” He’d joked. And indeed perhaps he was right, for Kazuha was as wonderful a poet as you had ever read. He was born to be a writer, you had told him.

You were also an aspiring singer, as well as a friend of the studio owner where you did your recordings. As such you had made it a habit to help around the studio when you weren’t also working or studying. As you and Kazuha were both students with intense side jobs, the good natured complaining of overworked students also made their way into you rapport, a friendship that grew day-by-day. Eventually it sprouted into love.

Though you knew that Kazuha was a streamer when your relationship started, in reality you hadn’t realized how truly popular he had become. The first time you watched one of his streams you were blown away by his popularity. Watching your first livestream only cemented that. It was hard to believe that your down-to-earth, slightly self-effacing, partner could have garnered such a large fanbase. Not that you didn’t think he deserved it. He absolutely did. However after seeing that you admitted you were a bit awestruck.

“Why? Am I not the same person on screen and off?”

“Of course you are! It’s just, well, my partner’s a celebrity!”

“I would go that far,” Kazuha laughed.

“Well you certainly are to me!”

Nevertheless your dynamic didn’t change much afterwards, besides the occasional teasing on both of your parts. Kazuha was after all Kazuha at the end of the day.

At the beginning Kazuha didn’t mention you much on stream, certainly not by name, you had to admit you were a bit intimidated by the idea of being recognizable on the internet, even if it was just by name.

“This is also my partner’s favorite map.” Had been his first mention, during a game of Mario Kart.

Despite this offhanded remark however the chat had almost immediately exploded, followed by the rest of the fanbase. Though there was, of course, some disappointed buzz – isn’t there always – the reaction was immensely positive. Positive, and curious.

After a while Kazuha started mentioning you more often in streams, especially after the two fo you moved in. Sometimes you would hear him as you passed him room – Kazuha liked to keep the door open – other times you would watch it on stream yourself.

“My partner hates this character. Too bad you can’t throw evidence.”

“Nobody tell my partner that I’m afraid of basements. I don’t need them to know that when laundry day rolls around.”

“Hey if you’re watching this dear, I promise that it’s not that much money. You don’t need to look at the bank account. Who am I kidding, this is why we don’t share one.”

“Hey, darling I know you’re watching this. Can you check and make sure I left my keys on the coffee table, they aren’t on my desk. Also can you make tea?”

Despite fans knowing very little about you, you were surprised by the amount of positive comments that flooded the streams. You had to admit that your initial expectations had been “people are going to find me annoying”. Instead funny comics of your voice drifting in from the other room popped up, along with a lot of waving and “tell your partner not to trust you with the keys” after Kazuha fell off a cliff one too many times. It was an odd experience, to be so happy about the comments of faceless people, people to whom you were also faceless.

Eventually Kazuha’s hardwork in singing paid off and his first single was recorded and given a deal. On the evening of the release livestream Kazuha set up in the living room, angling the camera so that you could sit on the chair just out of frame. You had talked about the release for months now, and a few weeks ago Kazuha had brought up the idea of a pseudo-stream reveal.

“I was wondering if you’d like to say hello to the audience or wave when my song is released. I understand that you’re hesitant about those sort of things, and I would never ask of you something that would make you uncomfortable. This relationship is the most precious thing to me, and I wouldn’t want you to feel pressured or exploited in any ways.”

“Thank you for being so considerate Kazuha. I’ll think about it.”

Now you sat in the chair, fidgeting slightly, waiting as the countdown on his laptop reached one. You excitement certainly seemed matched by that of the fans, who were typing wildly in the chat.

Eventually the screen faded to black and the chatting quieted down. The first few notes of a wooden flute emerged, combined with the strumming of a guitar. As the familiar words began to echo through the laptop speaker you found yourself washed away. Kazuha was always enthralling when he sang. At the end of the song was a dedication, and though Kazuha had already alluded to it, the sincerity still took your breath away.

To my dearest partner. My compass and my guiding star throughout this realization of my dream. You are my sun and my stars, and I’m forever devoted to you. Thank you for sharing in this project, and thank you for giving me such love.

Perhaps it was slightly saccharine. Regardless you felt the sudden, uninhibited urge to cry.

“So, what did everyone think?” Kazuha asked into the mic, face reappearing on screen. He was slightly giddy, and you watched as his hand tugged on the fabric of his linen belt.

Immediately the chat exploded, as waves of “that was amazing”, “I’m crying now”, and “the end was so sweet!” flooded the screen.

“Thank you all for the encouragement!” Kazuha let out a laugh, one that you could tell was one of utter euphoria, and no little relief. “There’s someone else I think who would like to thank you.”

Who knew that a small sentence could cause such a splash?

You barely had time to let out a tentative “Hello,” before an immediate wave of excited screaming covered the bottom left of Kazuha’s stream. “Thank you for supporting Kazuha’s song. And thank you for always being nice to me.” With a tentative wave of the hand you collapsed back on your chair, slightly hysterical laughter rising inside you out of the relief that flooded through you upon seeing the enthused fan reaction.

Afterwards your voice became the occasional guest on Kazuha’s streams, always greeted with enthusiasm. Kazuha continued to grow in popularity, and his music continued to capture a larger and larger audience.

All throughout this you never felt a snag in your relationship. Kazuha may have been a big streaming personality, but he was also a kind and considerate partner, the best that one could ask for in a significant other. Kazuha’s love was never in question. And neither was yours.

Xiao

Sometimes you were a little self-conscious about the way that you met Xiao.

Though Xiao had definitely grown a following by the time you met – being the main pianist for a popular singer and a classical pseudo-prodigy in both piano and flute his own right certainly had roped him an enthusiastic fanbase – you had simply known him as “the guy who hogs the practice room”.

“I swear to the gods, how long can that bastard take to practice!” You texted angrily at your friend one day. Qixing Conservatory was the premiere music place in Liyue, but what should’ve been an amazing opportunity was being overshadowed by a practice room partner who appeared to not have a life, one who also had the obnoxious habit of playing the same damn thing over, and over, and over again.

“Playing the same piece as before?”

“Yes! Ugh I don’t even know what it’s called but I’ve heard it enough times to last a lifetime, maybe five!”

“Damn I’m sorry, what time does he usually end?”

“I don’t even know. Some time in the early evening. It’s obviously never gotten through to his brain that other people also need to practice. Or that hearing the same notes over and over while waiting makes me want to chuck my binder against a wall.”

“Lol. I kinda want to hear it now. Can you send a video, will the sound pick up?”

“I don’t know how it wouldn’t.”

“…”

“Holy shit! Okay, I need you to watch this video and tell me if you recognize the pianist.”

Safe to say you nearly fell out of your chair upon figuring out Xiao’s identity. Not that you weren’t already about to out of pure exasperation. Still, there was something much more intimidating about shaming a successful musician, and you no longer had the urge to glare at Xiao every time he left the practice room. Honestly, you would have been perfectly happy keeping your head down and never interacting with him at all.

Fate, however, has a sense of humor.

To be fair, some of it was your fault. You knew that Erlkonig was a massively difficult piece. You knew that you should’ve picked something else, knew that even Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata mvt. Three had to be less painful than the non-vocal arrangement you’d placed in front of your eyes. You were never trusting your music taste with your piece choices again. This was a terrible mistake.

“These stupid fucking running notes!” You let out, a groan of exasperation racing through you. Half slamming (you weren’t crazy) the piano cover down you swung the door of the practice room open. You didn’t want to deal with this anymore. Trying to ignore the embarrassment that rose up seeing Xiao waiting on a chair next to the door you went to walk down the hallway.

“You should work on it with a dotted sixteenth note pattern.”

It was the first time that Xiao had ever spoken to you.

Afterwards a rapport slowly grew between the two of you. Often Xiao said nothing as you passed, rarely you made a gesture of recognition when he finally reappeared from the practice room. However soon the occasional word or phrase of advice grew into longer sentences, later these sentences evolved into pieces of conversation. Soon enough you discovered, to your slight horror, that you found yourself yearning for Xiao’s company.

Almost as soon as you’d finally figured out your feelings you were hit with a wave of denial. You weren’t falling for Xiao? How could you fall for someone who got on your nerves so much? Sure he gave you advice, but what about it? You deserved it after having to hear him over and over again while waiting. Certainly Xiao didn’t seem interested in you, he barely talked to you! Yeah he was getting more talkative, but it’s easier to talk to people when you’re giving them advice. There’s no way you were in love with Xiao. And there was no way he was in love with you.

To say that Xiao’s career as a musician, never mind his genuine technical talent at two instruments, was a barrier would be an understatement. The moment you thought you were making some progress, finally admitting to yourself that this crush was, in fact, real, a wave of anxiety would pass over you. Xiao was too good for you, he was too important. Here was a man who had a successful musical career already up in the air while you banged frustratedly on the keys. Why would someone that successful be interested in you? Not to mention the fact that he didn’t seem interested.

Because, you had to admit, you did like Xiao’s music. Not just his classical repertoire, but his pop music as well. It was slightly jazzy, mellow and playful and utterly unlike the scowling musician behind it – something you secretly thought extremely cute and surprisingly charming. To him you were just a practice roommate, and you were sure he’d find the idea of dating someone who was more familiar with his public persona irritating.

So you buried your feelings, or tried to. Unfortunately like sometimes attracts like, and just as Xiao secretly had the emotional understanding of a teaspoon, you weren’t nearly as clever about things as you would like.

“Is there something on my face?” Xiao asked, his voice gruff and slightly reluctant.

“No, why would there be?”

“Because you’re staring at it!”

“Oh, I’m sorry!” You let your head drop, looking intently at the ivories in front of you. Eventually there was a sigh.

“You don’t have to do that. I… I don’t mind.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes! You staring down is weird too. Let’s, let’s just hurry up and do this passage.”

After that you became more aware of your staring habit. You also became more aware of Xiao’s own habit, leaning towards you. Sometimes you swore that you could feel the tips of his hair tickling your neck, light and feathery and stealing all your attention.

“Hey, Xiao, do you need glasses?”

“Why would you asked that!” Xiao flared up, face reddening. By this time you’d become more accustomed to these flareups of grumpiness, and ignoring it you pressed on.

“It’s just, you seem to be leaning forward.”

“I’m not!” Immediately Xiao shifted back, almost stepping away. Without thinking about it you reached to grab his hand.

“I didn’t mean it was a bad thing!” You got out, before becoming aware of your hand grasping Xiao’s. The touch felt electric, and you were suddenly so very aware of everything, yet unable to focus at all.

“Then you shouldn’t have brought it up.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” Xiao grumbled.

Slowly the musician leaned closer to you once more. You had already half stood up and now you found yourself stepping closer to Xiao. The world continued to shrink until you were almost pressed together. Xiao was leaning forward, as were you, and the longer tufts of his hair were tickling your cheek, helped by the fan whirring away in the corner. Your hand was still in his, but all your thoughts appeared to have died away.

“Xiao?”

“Is this, too close?”

“No.”

“Oh.”

“Xiao?”

“What?”

“I like your music. I hope that doesn’t bother you.”

“Why would it?”

“I don’t know. I just, I also like you, not just your music. But I also like your music.”

“I also like yours too.”

Perhaps it wasn’t the most romantic of confessions, but at that point you were far too carried away by the moment, or maybe by the fact that was the most sentences Xiao had strung together that weren’t about triplets. Regardless of the fact, you were suddenly seized by incredible happiness, as all appeared to right itself.

Afterwards initially little changed, Xiao was a gruff as ever, you were still itching to play in the practice room more. Nevertheless when you went to a concert of his for the first time and he let out a small, almost imperceptible, smile your way you knew things had changed. They would keep changing perhaps, or maybe they wouldn’t. After all, this moment was beautiful.

So much that you didn’t even mind the hours spent waiting for the practice room.

#genshin impact #albedo x reader #kazuha x reader #xiao x reader #genshin albedo #genshin kazuha #genshin xiao #genshin impact fanfiction #requested #my writing #scenarios

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sunrisefairy · 4 years

Text

Sketches

Pairing: George Weasley x reader

Word count: 2.1k

Summary: Y/N likes drawing people. More specifically, she likes drawing George Weasley. Which is fine, until she loses her notebook and George is the one who finds it.

A/N: Okay so because of lockdown and me having legit nothing to do i spent the last 2 days writing this fic for @teawiththeweasleys writing challenge and i couldnt wait to share it with you. im lowkey very proud of it so i hope you all like it

Taglist: @hufflepuff5972 @inglourious-imagines message me if you would like to be added!

Ever since Y/N was a little girl she was always drawing whether it was scribbles of her family, animals, magical creatures or plants, you could always find the girl with a pencil and paper somewhere nearby. For as long as she could remember her home was covered in her drawings, Y/N’s mum and dad would frame and hang up all of their daughters’ drawings all over the walls. They were so proud of Y/N’s creativity and encouraged her to keep creating her art. It had become a tradition that every year for her birthday Y/N would receive a new notebook and pencils form her parents and it was always her most cherished gift.

Over the last few years Y/N has become very intrigued with drawing faces, she loved how she could capture a person’s emotion with just some charcoal and parchment. More recently when Y/N was sketching she’d try to focus on the subtle and small features that make humans unique and beautiful, may it be the way their eyebrows arched in curiosity or the dimples and freckles etched into their skin or small wrinkles that danced near their eyes when they smiled. Y/N loved it all.

Because Y/N was so captivated with how facial features made everyone unique she found herself draw a particular ginger a lot more than anyone else. George Weasley. Everybody at Hogwarts knew George Weasley was the twin to the confident and loud Fred Weasley. And being that they are identical twins they look very similar. Y/N found it fascinating trying to pinpoint their minor physical differences and she had become quite good at it.

Her brown leather notebook, which if it wasn’t in her hand was usually found stuffed in her book bag, was full of sketches of George. It started of gradual, her drawings of the sweet boy. Y/N was usually found sitting on a bench in the courtyard if the weather was nice, drawing anyone she saw nearby and normally it was someone new each time. But when her eyes landed on the loud group of Gryffindor boys, she felt a pull to the tall boy with fiery hair who was standing next to his twin, both taking turns to tell a story which had the rest of the group engrossed. Y/N wanted to challenge herself, it was simple, she wanted to capture the features that made an identical twin unique.

Y/N spent the last few weeks ‘studying’ George in a very non-threatening and not at all creepy way. The pair had a few classes together being in the same year at school but the two hadn’t really spoken much to each other. So, Y/N admired from afar, normally from across the great hall or in class. She quickly learnt that George’s face was longer than his brothers, his eyes were more slanted, and his lips had a curve in them that was more prominent when he smiled, something he does a lot, Y/N observed.

~~~

The weather was particularly nice on this Saturday afternoon, so naturally Y/N found herself on a bench in the courtyard with her pencil tin open and a range of charcoals scattered around her as she doodled in her notebook (the one which wasn’t unofficially dedicated to George).

“Hello there little Gryffindors-” Y/N heard a voice call from nearby, the voice belonging to Fred Weasley. George was standing next to his twin and the duo were chatting to some unsuspecting first years.

“-anyone fancy a nougat? They are delicious” George finished; the twins shared a mischievous glance at each other.

Y/N quickly grabbed her other notebook and some charcoal and began sketching the boy’s face focusing on the way his eyes sparkled when he laughed at the poor Gryffindor who accepted the free candy which turned out to be a nosebleed nougat. Y/N was absorbed in her sketching she didn’t notice her best friend sit next to her, peering over her shoulder.

“Ah, drawing your lover boy again I see” Alicia chuckled as Y/N slammed the book shut.

“He’s not my lover boy, I’ve already told you; I draw him to-”

“-capture the features that make an identical twin unique. Sure, so if I flick through your other notebooks, I’ll find one dedicated to Fred too then?”

Y/N rolled her eyes, “shut up.”

“Come on creeper, we told the others we’d hang out today.” Alicia pulled on Y/N’s hand as she quickly threw her notebooks and pencil tin in her book bag.

“Merlin, hang on! You’re gonna rip my arm out of its socket!” Y/N giggles hoisting her bag strap higher up her shoulder.

The two girls walked off, arms linked and laughing, neither one noticed the lone notebook that was left on the bench.

~~~

George, Fred and Lee were heading towards the great hall after their amusing interaction with a group of first years when the younger twin noticed a brown book perched on a bench. He detoured that way to pick it up, flicking through the pages in hopes he will find who it belongs to so he can return it.

George furrowed his brows as he dove deeper into the book. He expected it to be filled with notes and writing but he was not expecting to see drawings of people; of him and Fred. But as he looked closer, he quickly realised that they weren’t sketches of him and Fred, just himself.

“Oi! What are you doing? We’re gonna be late for dinner” Fred’s voice pulled him back. George shoved the notebook in his pants pocket and hurried after his twin very confused as to why the notebook was filled with drawings of him.

Later that night George found himself sitting on his bed in his dorm room flipping through the notebook. These drawings were incredible, whoever it belonged to had some serious talent but he couldn’t get over why someone had drawn him, let alone multiple drawings. Each sketch was different to the last though, some were of his whole face others just of his eyes or mouth. George was in awe of the skill this person had; they had managed to capture his face perfectly.

Some might view finding a notebook filled of drawings of themselves a little creepy, however George Weasley found it flattering. You see, for his whole life, George has seen himself as the other half of Fred. Most people in their lives couldn’t tell the pair apart and opted to talk to them and refer to them almost as if they were one person as FredandGeorge and not Fred and George. This notebook was proof that someone out there noticed George as a singular person, an individual, which made George’s heart flutter.

~~~

“Oh godric” Y/N mumbles pouring out the contents of her book bag on the table.

“Hey, Y/N relax. I’m sure it will turn up eventually.” Alicia says in attempt to calm her friend down.

Y/N ran her hands through her hair, very stressed. She had been searching for her notebook all morning with no luck worried that the wrong person had found it and would deem her a creepy stalker.

“How can I relax when my notebook-the notebook which is filled with drawings of George Weasley-has gone missing. Oh merlin, whoever has it will most likely recognise the drawings of George and give it to him and he’ll eventually find out that it belongs to me and think I’m a freak” Y/N’s arms are frantically waving around to empathise her point as she paces up and down the room.

Alicia stops in front of her friend, placing her hands on her shoulders, squeezing reassuringly “Y/N breath. You’ve told me a million times that those drawings are just about capturing someone’s facial features, right? It’s not like you have a crush on the guy so it doesn’t matter if anyone thinks that, because it’s not true.”

Y/N’s sketches of George Weasley had started just as Alicia said but it quickly turned into Y/N possessing a small, okay maybe huge crush on the red head and her trying to find any excuse to stare at him and draw. Y/N’s heart hammered in her chest at the thought of George being the one to find her notebook. There was no way George wouldn’t be freaked out and think Y/N had some weird obsession with him.

“Okay so when was the last time you remember having your book?” Alicia questions.

Y/N racks her brain trying to remember, “yesterday afternoon. In the courtyard on that bench, I was drawing him when you came over. I’m sure I put it in my bag but I haven’t seen it since.”

Alicia nodded, the two deciding that was the best place to start.

Y/N practically sprints to the courtyard, luckily there wasn’t many students here, giving it was a Sunday morning and everyone was probably still sleeping. The two girls look around trying to spot the leather book. Y/N sighs in defeat, collapsing onto the bench and groaing into her hands.

“Bloody hell, I can’t believe I lost it. I’m so stupid”

“Err, Y/N” Alicia nudged her friend’s shoulder.

“Geez, thanks Alicia, you’re meant to say ‘No Y/N you’re not stupid’”

Alicia widened her eyes at Y/N before glancing behind her, “look”.

Y/N follows her gaze and freezes. George Weasley was walking towards them, that in itself was strange but it wasn’t until Y/N looked down at George’s hand and noticed the missing notebook.

“Oh no.”

George had figured whoever misplaced the notebook would probably come back to the last place they had it to search for it. He was hoping for that at least. Not only did he want to return the book to its rightful owner, he also wanted to thank them for seeing him, for noticing him.

As George rounded the corner his eyes scanned the courtyard and were met with Alicia Spinnit and Y/N L/N sitting on the same bench he’d found the notebook on, bingo. Judging by Y/N’s wide eyes that were glued to the notebook in his hand and how Alicia gave her a pat on the shoulder before disappearing, George figured the drawings were the work of Y/N. George’s heart sped up with this information. The two of them weren’t close but were friendly having shared some classes together. George had caught himself on more than one occasion glancing at Y/N during lessons and mealtimes, wondering what it would be like to get to know her. Guess now he has a chance.

His feet stopped a few paces in front of the bench as Y/N gawked up at him.

George cleared his throat, “uh I believe this belongs to you?”

Y/N basically snatches the notebook from his fingers, feeling insanely embarrassed and when Y/N is embarrassed, she rambles. “Oh merlin, I’m so sorry! I’m guessing you looked through it, of course you did. I would have too if I stumbled across a stranger’s book. I’m also guessing you realised all the drawings were of you. Look I’m not some stalker, I swear. Like I’m not some girl that has a massive crush on you and decided to fill a notebook with drawings of you… Well I do have a crush on you. But I promise I didn’t mean to be creepy. I just, I like drawing people and you have a nice face.” Y/N chews on her bottom lip, forcing herself to shut up.

George opens his mouth and closes it a few times as he processes the girl’s words. “Wow, um- I want you to know that I don’t think you’re creepy at all. I was actually really flattered looking through your pictures. It’s nice to know someone sees me as me and not as an extension of Fred.”

The two stare at each other for a few moments, neither one knowing what to say.

George moves to sit beside Y/N, close enough that their thighs are touching, “they are really good by the way. The drawings I mean. You’re very talented.”

Y/N blushes at his words, “thank you. I don’t normally share my art, with the exception of my parents and Alicia.”

George places a hand over his heart, “well in that case I feel very honoured.” He runs his fingers through his hair as Y/N giggles before continuing, “I know we aren’t super close and I kind of hate that it’s taken me this long to ask but would you maybe wanna hang out sometime? Like a date.”

Y/N fiddles with the notebook in her lap trying to hide her excitement “for sure, I’d love that.”

George lets out a sigh of relief, “great, well what are you up to right now? Maybe we can hang out and you can draw more pictures of my handsome face.”

Y/N rolls her eyes and playfully shoves at his side “careful, your head might explode with all that ego. But yes I’d love to hang out with you right now.”

“Cool.”

#George Weasley #George weasley one shot #George weasley x reader #george weasley x you #george weasley fluff #George weasley fanfic #George Weasley fanfiction #george weasley imagine #fred and george #fred weasley #fred weasley oneshot #fred weasley one shot #harry potter #harry potter one shot #harry potter oneshot #harry potter imagine #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x you

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s0ft1eee · 3 years

Text

"Are you serious??"

Pete Davidson x F!reader - angst to fluff at the end

(Y/N) and Pete were always close, ever since the day they met. Practically attached at the hip, many people just meeting them assumed they were dating! They held hands in public, constantly talking to each other, they even got matching bracelets.

But lately, there was a change. It started small, of course. (Y/N) asked Pete if he wanted to hang out, he denied saying that he was busy. She didn’t press further, but the next times she asked, he gave her the same excuse. These changes kept growing, Pete even going to ignore (Y/N) for a whole week!

Pete didn’t want to! He swore on his life he loved her, but he felt like he had too, to not love her more then normal. Like the changes, it started small. Her laugh made his breath quicken. But of course, much to his dismay, they escalated. A touch, even a lean, made the butterflies go insane in his stomach. He hated it, he hated feeling like this. So, in that brain of his, the best option was to push the (h/c)ette away. Maybe, if he asked Colin or like, anyone this whole thing would’ve been avoided.

She was once again trying to talk to Pete, waving him over and trying to say hi. They made eye-contact, eye-contact that made his stomach flutter, but he quickly turned away. The (h/c)ette sighed longingly, resting her head on her palm. “Hey (Y/N).” Colin grinned, taking a seat next to her. She simply grunted towards the brunet, causing his eyes to furrow. “What happened?” He tilted his head, leaning in to listen.

“He’s still ignoring me!” (Y/N) whined, a frown growing on her features. Colin let out a sigh, gently placing a hand on her shoulder. “I don’t know what I did wrong.. I mean, was I too clingy? Am I annoying?! I don-...I don’t know.. I just, I just want him back..” She whimpered, feeling tears prick at her eyes.

“No, (Y/N). You aren’t annoying, or clingy! He’s probably just going through something right now..” Colin reassured, giving her a soft smile. The (h/c)ette couldn’t help but give a worried smile back. She brought him into a hug, whispering a silent thank you.

Pete snarled from the sidelines. He wanted to be the one to comfort her, to be the one she hugged. Only if he knew why (Y/N) was upset. His grip on his cup tightened as he shook his head, walking away.

This happened for another week. (Y/N) trying to hang out with him, the bleach blond ignoring her, Colin ending up comforting her. It was a cycle, a sick cycle on loop. She wanted to break it, so she was gonna.

She chased after him, the rain gently splashing around her. Pete saw her, through the corner of his eye. He tried speeding up, yet he was too slow. She grabbed his hand tightly, spinning him around to face her. The dark skies only illuminating their faces.

“Pete.” “...(Y/N).”

She rolled her eyes. “What’s up, why have you been ignoring me for the past 2 weeks?” (Y/N) asked, well more demanding for an answer. He gulped, attempting to pull away but her grip was tight on his hand.

“I haven’t been ignoring you. We talk all the time!” Pete defended. She scoffed, dropping his hand as she turned away.

“In sketches, Pete!” She spun back, moving her hands dramatically. “Where we act like we are best friends!! We used to talk all the time. What happened? What happened to us? I miss you Pete! I miss talking to you everyday. I miss sending you random cat videos! Where have you been?” (Y/N) pleaded with him, tears pricking at her eyes. She could see his ‘cool’ persona falter, seemingly breaking slightly to see her beg.

“I’ve been here! You’re being overdramatic.” He sneered. She gasped, hurt covering her features. “I’m being overdramatic?!” She snapped. “You have been the one ignoring me! I have a right to be upset, I feel like I’m losing you Pete! The one I love! Why?! Why haven’t you been talking to me?!” Tears now melting away at her makeup, she choked up. “You wanna know why!?! Why have I been acting like this?!” He barked. “It’s because I fucking- I fucking fell in love with you! Okay?! I did the one thing I told myself not to do! And I didn’t wanna fucking ruin it with you so I avoided you, hoping these stupid fucking feelings would go away!” He shouted. “Everything you do drives me nuts! Do you not see it?! I blush when you smile at me, I look crazy! You’re perfect and I didn’t wanna mess it up so I just- I just left! But I really wish I didn’t because seeing you hanging with Colin makes me so fucking mad! I just want to hold you, and brag about how you’re my girlfriend but you’re like way out of my league. I just.. I just love you so goddamn much!” Pete blurted out, before slapping a hand over his mouth.

Her mouth hung open slightly as her eyes were wide.

“You- you love me?” “Yeah. Yeah I do, now let’s forget this ever happened and ignore each other forever! Alright? Alright!” He forced a grin, raising his hand to wave a goodbye. “Pete, wait..” He paused by her suggestion. (Y/N) gently took his raised hand and interlocked their fingers. She smiled, a wide pure happy smile. Her features grow redder by the second. “I never said I didn’t love you back.”

“Wai- are you- are you serious??”

She stood on her tip-toes, placing a gentle kiss on his nose. “Why wouldn’t I?”

(( MY FIRST REQUEST!!! :DDD I'm sorry the end is a little rushed, it's 2am and I'm kinda tired lol! Feel free to request more! ^^ I hope you have a great day/night! - Softie ))

#pete davidson x reader #pete davidson imagine #im tired lol

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earliebirb · 3 years

Text

nosedive

steve/tony, fluff, (newly) established relationship, 3250 words

Tony stares absentmindedly out the airplane window as he puts his phone up to his ear, watching people run back and forth, performing last-minute engine checks. Some of the guys look sweaty and out of breath.

From the comfort of the air-conditioned Stark Industries private jet, he feels a slight twinge of sympathy for the people having to suffer in the humid summer heat.

He loosens his tie and sinks deeply into his seat, closing his eyes with a massive yawn as he listens to the ringing tone. He hadn’t been able to sleep very well throughout his five-day stay in Tokyo, too anxious about the contract to rest properly.

The ringing tone goes on for a few more seconds before ending with a click, replaced by an achingly familiar voice greeting him in his ear.

“Hello?”

Tony’s eyes spring open. Outside, an aircraft marshaller walks by, speaking rapidly into his walkie-talkie.

“I had a blueberry muffin for lunch today. One single blueberry muffin.”

“...What?”

“It didn’t even taste that good. I couldn’t finish it. Too dry.”

“Tony, that’s not good. Is that all you had for lunch? You should really eat—”

“The meeting went well, by the way. Mr. Watanabe finally signed the contract, everything went as planned. My ride to the airport, however…”

“I told you things would go smoothly, you had nothing to worry about. You’re a brilliant negotiator—”

“The traffic? Fuck. I had to keep shifting in my seat to avoid pins and needles.”

“That sounds awful, are your legs okay—”

“Did you know that Tokyo is number nineteen on the list of cities with the worst traffic congestion in the world? I know that, because I looked it up on the way to the airport. But boy, did it feel like it deserved the number one spot. I think I lost feeling in my ass.”

“I did not know that. And, uh, is your ass okay—”

“Thank God for my private jet. These plush seats are the best things I’ve ever spent my money on.”

“That’s objectively not true, and you know it—”

“Then again, I think these seats in particular were Pepper’s choice? We remodeled the airplane’s interior like… two years ago. I couldn’t be bothered to meet with the airplane seat people and I just told her to pick whichever looked best. I had much more important things to tend to, like sewing up the holes in JARVIS’s Christmas stocking.”

“I am concerned about how you sort your list of priorities—”

“Hm, that’s right. I think it was around two, three weeks before Christmas and I didn’t want JARVIS to be upset about the whole stocking thing, you know?”

“I’m sure he wouldn’t have—”

“Also, you’re right, the single blueberry muffin was a bad idea because now my stomach won’t shut up. So I’ve ordered some pasta for my in-flight meal. Robbie’s making it, you’ve met Robbie—”

“I’ve met Robbie, yes, he’s—”

“Larry’s replacement after he resigned. Gotta say, I was sad to see Larry go. Guy worked for me for seven years. But then there was that thing with his grandma, and he had to leave, so… But! Robbie makes a mean carbonara, maybe even better than Larry, don’t tell Larry I said that—”

“I don’t even know Larry like that, how would I—”

“Mr. Stark, we’re ready to go.” The pilot—Paul—emerges from the cockpit, staring at him in anticipation.

Tony nods and makes a few rapid gestures with his free hand that he supposes Paul is only able to interpret perfectly after years and years of working for Tony. The gestures roughly translate to something like “Copy, I hear you, just let me wrap this up and then I’ll let you know when I’m done. Capiche?”

Paul—bless him—just gives him a curt nod and retreats back into the cockpit.

“Anyway,” Tony takes a deep breath and puffs his cheeks out with the exertion of his exhale, “I called because… I got a feeling, Steve.”

“A… feeling?”

“Just— A gut feeling. A feeling in your gut. Inside of me. Like a hunch?”

“Okay,” Steve says patiently, his voice low and warm, “what are you feeling?”

“I… got a bad feeling. Today. A few hours ago. The feeling came to me when I was sitting in traffic, and I just— I feel like something bad’s gonna happen today, Steve. I can feel it in the air. In my heart. In my gut. In my joints.”

“Your joints? Like… the feeling old people get when it’s about to rain?”

“Okay, maybe not in my joints. Also, are you calling me old, grandpa?”

“I did not, you told me you felt something in your—”

“Anyway, so yeah. Where was I? Oh, right. Feeling. Bad feeling. Like, like, I don’t know, something bad’s gonna happen. Like an accident. Like a plane crash.”

“God, please don’t say that. You’re scaring me, Tony.”

“And I guess, I just called because I… I feel like I need to do this before the plane crashes and I die a violent and fiery death.”

“Nothing bad’s going to happen, Tony—”

“Like, if I didn’t do this today, maybe I’d never get to do it, you know? And, uh, okay, I’ve honestly been ranting to stall for time, but the longer I keep it in the more nauseous I feel, so maybe I’m just gonna do it now so I can die in peace—”

“Do what? And stop saying that—”

“Look, I’m trying to be brave and honest here and— Wait, actually? Maybe I’m being a coward because if the plane actually does go down, I won’t have to face the consequences of my actions, so I guess I’m just going to say fuck it, and say that I love you.”

“The plane is not going to— Wait, what?”

“I, uh. Love you. I’ve known it for a while now. And, uh, I know we’ve only been dating for like, a week, but—” Tony blinks. They’ve only been dating for a week.

“...Fuck.” Tony can feel his own pulse starting to race. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“Tony?”

They’ve only been dating for a week. What is he doing? What the hell is wrong with him? Normal people don’t do this.

“Fuck. Shit, I mean— Uh, I’m sorry. That was super weird, huh?” Tony laughs nervously. He closes his eyes, gritting his teeth and cursing his stupid brain. Of course it’s weird. He always gets too attached to people way too quickly. No wonder Pepper was his only long term relationship. She was the only person who could put up with him—everyone else just got weirded out. “Uh, see you tomorrow? Or not. Fuck, sorry, I’m just gonna hang up before this gets—”

“Tony, wait.”

“...Yeah?” Tony says, hyper-aware of how breathless he sounds. His heartbeat is ringing in his ears. Everything is going to be fine. Right? Right. The worst thing Steve could do is… break up with him.

Oh, God, that is the worst case scenario. He really should’ve just kept his stupid mouth shut.

“Tony, are you freaking out? I feel like I can hear you freaking out from all the way over here.”

“No, I’m not, of course I’m not. Who says I’m freaking out? You have no proof. I am calm, I’m calm as a clam, is that the saying? Did I get it right? Or was it happy— Anyway, I am absolutely calm, I’m the calmest I could possibly be. Any calmer and I’d be asleep. I’m—”

“Tony. Breathe.”

Tony forces himself to drag in a slow breath as he grips the arm of his seat with his free hand, focusing on the soothing hum of the airplane’s engine.

“Look, Tony, I—”

“No, listen. I’m sorry I jumped the gun, I hope I haven’t weirded you out or anything. You really, really don’t have to say it back to me. I mean it.”

“Tony—”

“No, in fact— Please don’t say anything. It’s fine. Let’s just pretend this never happened, okay?”

“But—”

“Drop it, Steve. Please?” Tony pleads. Clearly, his brain hadn’t been firing on all cylinders. That is the only reason that could explain his temporary lapse of judgment. “Look, I feel like talking about it more right now is going to send me spiraling into a panic attack.”

“...Okay. Fine.”

“Thank you. Uh, I’ll see you when I get home. If I get home. If the plane doesn’t crash. Haha.”

“Would you please stop saying that? It’s not funny.”

Tony latches onto the change in topic like a lifeline. “It is objectively true, you know. In order for me to be able to see you tomorrow, the plane has to land safely, and unfortunately, some things are just beyond my control. Like, who’s to say the plane won’t explode mid-air and—”

“The plane is going to land safely and you’re going to come back home to me in one piece. This is non-negotiable, Tony. You hear me?” Steve demands, his voice all hard authority and no-nonsense, like there will be Consequences should Tony fail to comply.

As if he could ensure Tony’s safety with the force of his willpower alone.

Come back home to me.

That sounds good. Really good. Tony closes his eyes and pictures Steve’s baby blues in his mind’s eye. Warmth flowers in his chest.

“I hear you.”

“Great.”

“Awesome. I, uh, I gotta go now.”

“Okay. See you tomorrow.”

“See you.”

Tony hangs up and lets Paul know that he is done with his phone call. The jittery feeling left over from his call with Steve refuses to leave him, however, so he pulls up the drawing application on his phone and begins sketching something just to give his brain something else to fixate on.

He tends to lose track of time when he is hyperfocused on a project, so he isn’t exactly surprised that the next time he becomes aware of his surroundings, the plane is already well up in the air, his sketch of what looks like a flying coffee pot is almost finished, and Robbie is placing a plate of spaghetti carbonara on the table in front of him.

“Spaghetti carbonara. With extra cheese.”

Tony’s mouth waters as he eyes the mountain of grated Pecorino Romano sitting atop the pasta. He sighs dreamily and smiles up at Robbie.

“You’re a lifesaver.”

“Enjoy, Boss.” Robbie grins and slips back into the kitchen.

He only realizes just how truly famished he is after taking his first bite, and proceeds to finish the rest of his meal with gusto. Afterward, he spends the majority of the remaining flight time sleeping, the result of post-carbonara food coma and his sleep-deprivation finally catching up to him.

It’s well past two in the morning when Tony finally makes it to his floor in the Tower, which is why he is surprised to see Steve sitting on his couch, one of Tony’s fantasy novels open in hand.

“Steve, what are you doing here?”

Steve’s head snaps up at the sound of his voice. Tony frowns. “Actually, why are you awake at all?” He is usually an early sleeper, unless—

“Nightmare?” Tony gives him a sympathetic smile. It wouldn’t be the first time. In the early days of their friendship, Tony and Steve would sit together in the living room whenever they had trouble sleeping, talking to each other until the sun came up.

Steve shakes his head, closing the book with his eyes still trained on Tony. “No, I was just… waiting for you.” Tony blinks.

“It’s…” Tony glances at his watch. “Half past two. In the morning.”

“I know, I just…” Steve stands up, shoving his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants. He ambles over before coming to a stop right in front of Tony. “I wanted to see you.”

Tony stares at him uncomprehendingly. “You’ll see me later anyway.”

“I couldn’t wait any longer. I didn’t want to go to sleep without seeing you first,” Steve says, low and earnest. His gaze wanders around Tony’s face, as if he were cataloguing each and every facial feature and trying to locate any changes he might’ve missed during his absence.

“Oh.”

Steve steps closer, arms snaking around Tony’s waist and pulling him close. His next words are whispered against Tony’s shoulder.

“I knew you’d make it home safely.”

“Uh, yeah.”

“You were wrong.”

“I was… wrong.” Tony swallows. “Uh, turns out the bad feeling completely disappeared after I woke up from my nap on the plane, so I suspect that perhaps the bad feeling I got was due to my severe hunger and sleep deprivation. I mean, I’ve heard about hallucinations caused by hunger or exhaustion, but this was—”

Steve presses a soft kiss to the column of Tony’s neck, effectively cutting off Tony’s ramblings.

“Tony,” Steve whispers against his skin.

“Yeah?” Tony squeaks.

“Please don’t call me before a flight and say that you think the plane is going to crash, ever again.”

“Right. Noted. I’m sorry.”

“Apology accepted,” Steve says, pulling away slightly and loosening his hold around Tony.

Tony allows himself to relax, letting out a quiet sigh. This thing with Steve is so new and delicate that every single physical contact still sends his heart fluttering, butterflies going crazy in his stomach.

Which makes, in retrospect, his abrupt love confession—as truthful as it was—that much more insane. God, Stark. Never do that again.

Except, it turns out that Steve only pulled away to slide his hands down the back of Tony’s thighs, wrapping his hands around them, and then lifting him up without warning.

Tony yelps, and in his alarm, promptly locks his ankles around Steve’s waist. When Steve begins moving, Tony quickly wraps his arms around Steve, resting his chin on Steve’s shoulder.

“Uh, Steve?”

“Hm?” Steve says, calm and nonchalant, as he begins walking away from the elevator.

“Um— Wait— My suitcase—”

“Leave it. It’ll still be there in the morning.”

Tony blinks, staring dumbfoundedly at his lonely suitcase, abandoned by the elevator. It becomes smaller and smaller with every step Steve takes.

“Where are we going?”

“Your bedroom.”

“Why are you carrying me there?”

“Because I want to.”

“You know it’ll be faster if you just let me walk, right?”

“Maybe. But you won’t be in my arms.”

“Um.”

“Bear with me, will you? I missed you.”

“I, uh, missed you too.”

Steve hums, satisfied. Tony lets himself settle more comfortably in Steve’s arms.

When Steve has successfully carried him to his bedroom, Tony fully expects Steve to deposit him on the bed.

That is not, in fact, what happens.

Instead, Steve turns around and begins walking backwards towards the bed before sitting down on it. Tony, still seated on his lap, swallows and pulls back slightly to look at Steve.

“Look, Steve, as much as I’ve missed you, I’m kind of tired right now. I mean, don’t get me wrong. This whole carrying thing? Great. Very romantic. Ten out of ten. But I’m just not in the mood for sex, you know? Like, I’m not even sure I would be able to get it up if—”

“We’re not going to have sex.”

Tony blinks.

“We’re not?”

“We’re not. I’m just here to tuck you in.”

“Oh.”

Steve reaches up and begins undoing his tie. After setting it aside on the bed, he begins to unbutton Tony’s shirt. He takes his time, one button at a time.

“So…” Steve begins with a deep breath as he unbuttons the final button. “Did you mean, uh, what you said to me? On the phone?”

Tony closes his eyes, feels his own cheeks heating up. “Steve—”

“I’m sorry, Tony, I know you told me to drop it. But— I feel like if you did mean what you said, I owe it to you to… set the records straight.” When Tony opens his eyes again, Steve is looking up at him, blue eyes solemn.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean… We have only been together for a week. Well, eight days. In fact, we’ve only been on one date. And it was interrupted. By giant lizards.” Steve chuckles incredulously.

Tony remembers that day very well. They were in the middle of dessert at Tony’s favorite Italian place when they received the call to assemble—something about giant lizards wreaking havoc in Central Park.

The lizards had green, gunky blood that got into the nooks and crannies of the suit. It had taken forever to clean.

“But Tony…” Steve gathers the material of Tony’s unbuttoned shirt in both of his fists, pulling him closer until their noses are only inches apart.

The second their eyes meet, Steve smiles the sweet, lopsided smile that never fails to make Tony’s stomach flip.

“I need you to know that… I didn’t have to date you to know that I loved you. I figured that a long time ago.”

Tony stills, breath frozen in his lungs.

“I guess, what I’m saying is… I love you too. I’ve loved you for a very long time, Tony. Even way before—” Steve breaks eye contact, looks down as he clears his throat. When he speaks again, his voice is tight. “Way before we got together. I’m talking… years before.”

Tony still finds it hard to breathe. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” Steve says, the word more breath than sound. He meets Tony’s dazed gaze. “So you don’t have to worry about… jumping the gun. Not with me. I’m in it for the long haul.”

“...Okay.”

“Okay.”

“Good.” Tony feels a lightness growing inside of him, spreading outwards to his extremities.

“Good.” Steve smiles, warm and impossibly fond.

“...Glad we’re on the same page.” Tony’s gaze drops down to Steve’s lips.

“We are.” Steve inches closer, nose brushing Tony’s. He then tilts his head ever so slightly and takes Tony’s lower lip between his, kissing him so tenderly Tony’s heart feels like it’s about to burst with it.

Steve’s warm hands slide up Tony’s naked back under his open shirt, sending goosebumps breaking across his skin. Tony buries his hands in Steve’s hair and relishes the feeling of the soft strands caught between his fingers. They stay caught up in each other for a few moments, capturing and releasing each other’s lips until the need for breath becomes too unbearable.

They break apart eventually, accompanied by soft chuckles. Steve smiles up at him, lips slick and cherry red, courtesy of Tony. He reaches up to caress Tony’s right eyebrow with the pad of his thumb, fleeting and affectionate.

“Get some rest, okay? You must be really tired. I should probably go to bed, too.”

Tony looks down at his lap, clearing his throat. “Uh, I know that we haven’t done this before, but…”

Steve waits patiently for Tony to gather his thoughts, hands stroking up and down Tony’s sides.

“Do you want to stay with me tonight?” Tony finds the courage to meet Steve’s eyes, holding his breath.

Steve’s blue eyes are gazing at him intently, looking at him like he’s the only person in the world worth his sole, undivided attention.

Tony swallows. “No sex. Just to sleep. If you—”

“Yes.”

“Yeah?”

“I would like that very much.”

“Okay.”

“Good.” Tony feels his own lips slowly curve up into a smile, wide and unbridled.

“Good.” Steve nods, lips twitching, his eyes never leaving Tony’s.

Tony grins, feeling near giddy with delight. “Glad we’re on the same page.”

“We are, sweetheart.” Steve looks up at him, blue eyes fond and smile radiant. “We definitely are.”

#stevetony #stevetony fic #stony #stony fic #superhusbands #steve/tony #steve x tony #mine #earl wrote something

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cycat-carisi · 3 years

Note

Can you do #8 from the Angst prompt list?☺️

This one took me a while to come up with (sorry!) but ultimately, a little Bryan Ferry and "Slave to Love" gave me the inspo I needed (;

It's some kind of AU...idk

Angst Prompts as part of Cycat's Birthday Bash Fic-aganza! 8: “Listen to me, please!”

Pairing: Sonny x Reader Ratings/Warnings: mentions of: pr*stitution, mental abuse (father -> daughter), dr*g dealing.

A quiet rap sounds on your studio door. Setting down your sketch pencil, you move to open it. A giddiness bubbles through you, already knowing who is on the other side.

"Hey, Sonny," you beam, slipping him through the door before quickly closing it. You then rise up to lock your arms around his neck, giving him a peck on the lips. The two of you have snuck away like this countless times, but today he barely kisses you back and a tension rests across his brow that you've never seen before.

"Please keep it down," he whispers, delicately untangling your arms from around him. "Is your pa home?"

Now you're starting to worry. "No..." your voice trails off.

"Good," he remarks, eyes scanning the room cautiously.

"Son, what's wrong?" You hug your arms to your middle, unease settling in.

Finally, he turns his full attention on you. Sonny's breathing is rapid. He swallows thickly. "I – I could get inta lots of trouble for tellin' you 'bout this, but I can't let ya go down too."

Frantically your eyes search his face for answers. "Sonny, you're scaring me."

He looks to the ground then back up to you. "I'm sorry," he begins, "but they're gonna do a bust on your pa. We finally have enough evidence to put him away."

You freeze. We? Suddenly you're lightheaded, blinking a few times trying to digest what has just been said. Then it hits you. "We. You're a…a –" You stumble a few steps backwards.

"A cop," Sonny confirms apologetically. "I've been UC for the past year, tryin’ to gather intel on your father."

It all makes sense now. You hated the business your father ran, but were trapped in the world he had created. He had never laid a hand on you nor even discussed what exactly his business was...yet you just knew. You saw the women coming and going and the drug dealers making deliveries; every effort to prevent those girls from escaping the lifestyle and ultimately lining your father's pockets.

Then in walked Sonny. This handsome Italian, hired as security for your father's "business".

He pretended to be all hardened and tough, but you had seen right through him. There was a golden heart underneath that bulletproof vest and slowly but surely you had unlocked it. Except now, you suppose, it was too good to be true. A facade. A ploy to get close to you and get the info he needed.

Tears burn your eyes and a mixture of anger, confusion and betrayal rises up from within you. "How could you?!" you yell. "How could you use me like that? What kind of monster do you have to be to lie to someone in that way?!" Sonny winces but you can't stop yourself. "You tell me I'm beautiful, whisper in my ear and kiss me like I mean something to you, only for it to be a clever scheme to - to extract information! How could you, Sonny?! If that's even your real name!" You whip around, unable to tolerate the sight of him.

"Listen to me, please!" He gently places a hand on your arm to stop you from storming away. "Please." His voice goes soft, pleading, as he speaks your name.

Reluctantly, you turn back to face him. Tears blur your vision. "Everything I feel for you is real. I swear." Two big blue eyes bore into yours, trying to convey his sincerity. "I never set out to hurt you. You weren't our target...but I didn't expect to fall in love, either."

There it is. Your brain is screaming that none of it was real, except your heart aches in your chest because you love him too.

You lower your voice, trying to wrap your head around everything. "All the things I've shared about myself...did - did you tell anyone?"

Sonny shakes his head. "Never. I only reported incriminatin’ facts. Stuff that removed you from it as much as possible. You opened up to me, ‘n I know I lied about who I was, but I would never betray you like that." His face is painted with distress and it's clear it pains him to see you so torn up.

"I'm not my father," you say meekly.

"I know, doll. You're nothing like him. You're one of the most kind and generous people I've ever met."

His words cause you to smile in spite of yourself, but the shadow of your father plagues your self-worth. "Still, I guess you're wondering why I'm here then. Why I stay with a father who runs a prostitution ring? I must be some spoiled brat who loves living the rich lifestyle that daddy provides for her."

You watch as Sonny's brow furrows again and he shakes his head 'no'.

"I can't leave Sonny. I'm almost thirty and I can't leave. God knows I've tried. I told him I wanted out when I turned 21, but he grew...dark. I've never seen him so angry. He didn't get physical, but he did make it clear that bad things happen to people who cross him. That if I knew what's good for me, I'd stay." Fresh tears spring to your eyes. "What am I going to do, Sonny? When they seize everything he owns...I - I have nothing."

Sonny tenderly places his hands on your shoulders, forcing you to look at him. "You have me." You swallow a sob. "I will do everything in my power to help you. I promise. It was the real me who said 'I love you'. You will make it through this. We will make it. Together."

He strokes a piece of hair away from your wet cheek, touch lingering to caress your soft skin. You close the gap between the two of you, burying your face in his chest. "I love you, too," you murmur and Sonny engulfs you in the safety of his warm embrace.

Tag list? @barbasbodaciousbeard @teamsladsandgents @adarafaelbarba @caracalwithchips @averyhotchner

#Sonny Carisi x Reader #Cycat's Birthday Bash Fic-aganza!#writing prompts #anonymous #glowingmess #Sonny Carisi x You #SFW #AU: undercover Sonny #One shot #My fanfic #Sonny Carisi

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soramei · 3 years

Text

Intentional - Part 4

Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader (she/her)

Summary: Landing your first real job at JYPE was something short of a miracle. You were prepared to face the new struggles of this elusive career whilst moving to a new country, however, nothing could have prepared you for him. Will stolen glances, secret touches, and hushed nights spent in the recording room ever be enough for the both of you?

Genre: idol!bang chan au, forbidden relationship, coworkers to eventual lovers, slow burn

Warnings: none right now, eventual smut

Word Count: 3.4k

Masterlist

A/N: DOUBLE UPLOAD! So i decided to split this part in two since i didn't want it to drag on for too long... next part will be uploaded tomorrow!

Taglist (reply to be tagged!): @planetdemon @hvunvely @fluffybitch0325 @fashi0nablee @juststop88

You picked up the lanyard, looking between your burnt jacket in one hand and the vandalized piece of plastic in the other. The burnt polyester felt rough against your fingers. It was littered with black holes, almost to the point where it was unrecognizable as your jacket.

The lanyard, on the other hand, was almost untouched — save for the black marker that was sketched on the plastic. In the picture, on the part where your upper body was showing, there was only the black marker. The black blob stretched across your torso, the shape depicting a hoodie. Your eyes landed on the eyes in your picture. Thick lines drawn in the shape of an X covered both of them.

You quickly entered your apartment, hoping nobody saw you. You then stood completely still, listening to the silence, trying to find if anybody had broken into your home. After a minute, when it seemed as if you were the only person in there, you decided to lay the two vandalized items on your desk to further analyze them.

Your brain immediately tried to play this down by assuming that these were just kids who did this to your stuff, after all, it was something very immature. Children were the only people who had the time to play with fire and draw on other people’s pictures.

However, your gut told you something different. Why was your jacket along with your lanyard placed right in front of your apartment? Why was the marker outline specifically in the shape of a hoodie? Who could have known you were in the parking lot at that time of day?

Your mind drifted to one specific person. Manager Kim. He not only saw that you were in the parking lot that day with that jacket on, but also he knew your face from the lanyard. But why would he do something this childish? And how did he know where you lived?

The parking lot security guard had also been there when you wore that jacket, but he didn’t even look at you. And he would have no motive to do this sort of thing.

You rubbed your chin in thought, still not understanding everything. Was there somebody else that knew you were there?

Still feeling anxious, you began to prepare a cup of tea. You were reminded of Bang Chan. The tea. The smell of his hoodie.

His hoodie. The black hoodie.

Realization hit you like a truck as your eyes widened in disbelief. Was it maybe… Bang Chan?

Your heart was beating out of your chest. Hands shaking, you picked up your phone to call him, silently begging for the mysterious person to not be him.

He picked up.

“Hello? Y/n?”

You stayed silent.

“Is there something wrong?” He asked.

“I… I lost my jacket and it had my lanyard in it,” you tried to be careful with your words, not wanting to rouse suspicion from him, “have you seen it anywhere?”

“No,” you could almost see Bang Chan furrowing his eyebrows, “I’m still in the building though. I could look for it?”

“That’s alright,” you sighed in relief. He genuinely sounded confused, and plus, he was always so nice — there was no way he would ever do this kind of thing to you. You felt guilty for even suspecting him. “Thanks for offering though.”

“Y/n.”

“Hmm?”

“I know I said this before, but,” he paused, “if you need help with anything I’ll be there. I mean it.”

A chill ran down your spine at the seriousness of his voice. “I know. Thanks.”

You hung up, uneasy. The problem was unsolved, and to be honest, you were a little scared. There was somebody that knew who you were and where you lived. It was probably a good idea to change the passcode to your lock.

The kettle started to whistle. You turned off the flame of your stove and poured yourself a cup of tea, hoping that it would calm you down. Although it did a little, you still felt apprehensive about the whole thing. Your mood stayed the same the whole night, even when you tried to scroll through your phone or go to sleep.

The next day, you woke up with your mind cleared. No longer were you still feeling the aftershocks of the creepy jacket burner, and with your mood lifted more, you felt like you could think more objectively.

And that’s exactly what you did.

Throughout your whole week, this incident stuck in the back of your mind. Although your memory was getting fuzzier and fuzzier with the passing days, you still tried to work out who the culprit was in your free time.

Your mind was also filled with something else. Or was it someone else?

It seemed like, during the whole week, you couldn’t stop thinking of Bang Chan. You had to put part of the blame on him, though. Everytime he had a free moment in his busy schedule — granted it was rare that he did — he wanted to see you.

From secretly bringing you snacks from the vending machine to summoning you to his recording room in order to show his newest creation, he always seemed to stay busy even in his free time. You weren’t complaining, though. It was nice to have a friend who was so different from what you were used to.

You also spent a lot of time with Na-eun too. However, the time you spent with her felt different. Not in any good or bad way, just different. With her, it was mainly in the cafeteria, raving over the food after finally finding a free table. It was also trying to talk over everybody in the crowded streets as you two went shopping after work.

You liked it, sure. But with Bang Chan, every moment felt more intimate. Every smile, every laugh or brush of the hand. Was this what becoming friends felt like?

Other than these intrusive thoughts, the rest of your time was taken up by work. Although you were starting to get the hang of your tasks, there were still many mistakes made. Mistakes in which you had to profusely apologize to Manager Chen for, that you had to stay late nights to fix, mistakes which made you almost lose your mind. You hoped that Manager Chen could see your dedication to not only this project, but your job as a whole.

In the duration of this week, you managed to check in with every department involved with the project and partake in the finalization of the Mid-Autumn Festival content idea. It was decided that the group would do three activities: make lanterns, bake mooncakes, and share a fire while watching the moon. All while in the mountains.

You were surprised when Manager Chen asked you to come along to the shooting despite your inexperience. However, it wasn’t a chance you were going to pass up.

The week was hectic. So hectic, that you didn’t even realize it was almost over until Na-eun brought it up.

“Ugh, I wish I could just steal a whole tray of this food home,” you rolled your eyes. The two of you were raving once again at the cafeteria food. You wished you actually knew how to cook.

“Can you not cook?” She asked.

“I can fry an egg,” you said, stuffing more rice in your mouth.

“My six year old niece can do that,” she laughed. Her eyes widened. “What if I come over tonight and teach you? We’ll make fried rice, even you can’t screw that up.”

“Ha,” you said dryly. “I would, but I have literally nothing in my fridge.”

Na-eun gave you a deadpan look.

“How were you able to stay alive for the past couple weeks? At least you got skinner.” She sneered. “We’ll stop by the grocery store after work, I’ll teach you the bare minimum of living alone.”

And that was exactly what the two of you did. Right after you clocked out of work, you met up with Na-eun to go shopping. You decided to take out some cash to pay for your groceries, an action that Na-eun found hilarious. She was almost crying as she explained that a few groceries didn’t cost as much as you thought.

Your trip was successful. The two of you made it all the way back to your apartment and didn’t waste a second to get started. Halfway through setting things up, Na-eun got a text.

“Hey, is it okay if Yoojin comes? I guess she got jealous that I was here with you and she wasn’t.” She chuckled.

“Of course,” you eagerly nodded. “But, wouldn’t it be hard to get here with her injury?”

“What injury?”

“You know,” you continued, “her ankle.”

“She seemed fine to me.” Na-eun said as she started on the rice.

“Maybe she healed fast.” You shrugged.

“Maybe,” she shrugged back and returned to her task.

You texted Yoojin your address, and it wasn’t long before she was knocking at your door. You opened your door, and she immediately leaped at you for a hug.

“Oh, Y/n! I’m still so sorry for that day, I honestly feel horrible.” She pouted, her big eyes staring at you for a response.

“It’s really nothing, Yoojin.” You tried to sound casual. You let her in your apartment. “But, doesn’t your ankle hurt? There’s a lot of stairs coming up.”

“Oh, uhm, the doctor said it was only a minor injury.” She paused. “And I heal fast.”

“That’s good,” you smiled, patting her shoulder.

“But I still feel so bad, Y/n.” She whined. “Lemme make it up to you. I’ll set you up with this really hot guy I know. He’s a law student. You don’t have a boyfriend, do you?”

“Kim Yoojin!” Na-eun yelled.

“How about it? You’re free tomorrow, right?” Yoojin looked at you, ignoring Na-eun.

“I guess so,” you hesitantly agreed, “since it’s the weekend tomorrow.”

“Great!” Yoojin wrapped her arms around you, jumping up and down. “I’ll text you everything tonight.”

Yoojin kept up with her promise. After the three of you stuffed yourselves with good food, your two friends decided to leave before it got too dark. It was just a bit later when Yoojin’s text came through. You were to have dinner with this man called Kang Taehyun at an Italian restaurant tomorrow. Although you weren’t too thrilled with the idea of eating pasta, you figured you could withstand it for one night on the basis of trying something new.

You didn’t know how you felt about going on this date. Although you were excited to meet somebody new, something just felt off. Plus, you’ve never been on a blind date before. Who knows how good Yoojin’s judge of character was, or if this guy was like anything that Yoojin described.

You sighed, putting those thoughts aside. It was just a one time thing anyways, and who knows? Maybe this could lead to something. You looked over at Bang Chan’s hoodie. His warm hoodie that smelled so much like him. You should return it soon.

It was almost like he read your mind. As soon as you looked away, your phone rang with a call from Bang Chan.

“Hello?” You picked up.

“Hey, did you find your jacket?” He asked. You were surprised he still remembered.

“No… not yet.” You drifted off.

“Oh. We’ll keep looking for it, yeah? I’ll just buy you a new one if you can’t find it.”

You giggled. A couple seconds of silence passed.

“My shoot ends at six tomorrow. Wanna go to that barbecue place I was talking about?” He asked.

That’s right. Bang Chan couldn’t stop raving about that barbecue restaurant the whole week. He was really excited as his diet would end when he was done with his photoshoot, and he was apparently craving meat the whole time. All his praise made you very eager to see what the hype was all about.

You were about to eagerly accept, but then you remembered the date you had just planned not even a moment earlier. “Can we go another time? I… kinda have a blind date tomorrow.”

A few more seconds passed before you heard Bang Chan’s voice again.

“Blind date?”

“Yeah, my friend set it up. We’re going to this Italian place. Apparently he’s a really nice and handsome guy. He’s a law student, too.”

“Wha- law student? Y/n, are you sure you should be going on a blind date now? I mean, you just got here. You don’t know the city that well and you don’t even like pasta. What if he’s dangerous?” Bang Chan scoffed, his words got faster with each sentence.

“Chan, it’s okay. You don’t need to worry, I’ll be safe. Plus, I trust my friend.”

“You mean your friend you only just met?”

Silence.

“I only just met you as well.” You spat, slightly insulted that he would speak like that about Yoojin.

There was more silence that lingered.

“Whatever. Have fun on your date.” Bang Chan spat back, his harsh tone matching yours. Right after he said that, he hung up.

You looked angrily at your phone. Frowning, you threw your phone on your bed. Who was he to get angry at you for having a blind date? You recognized the dangers of meeting somebody new, but you trusted Yoojin. You were confident that Yoojin was honest about Taehyun.

A boyfriend would be nice too. Ever since your last relationship early in your university career, you haven’t had the best luck with men. It could have been because of how closed off your old friend group was. Your friends stayed consistent ever since you were young, and it was way too awkward to date a friend. You also found yourself way too closed off to go out and meet any new people.

Yes, tomorrow would be a good experience, you told yourself.

The next day, the hours leading up to your date felt like they had passed way too fast. The call with Bang Chan from last night still lingered on your tongue like sour candy, but you were determined to push past that in order to get ready on your date. After all, you didn’t want any frown lines to show.

You were excited to get ready. The amount of time it took to do both your hair and makeup was embarrassingly long, as you wanted everything to look just right for tonight. You didn’t want a hair to be out of place. You also took your sweet time to pick an outfit. Although the skirt you picked out probably wasn’t fit for the fall weather, you stuck with it anyways, choosing to layer a jacket over your outfit. One of your non-burnt jackets.

Double checking yourself in the mirror one last time, you locked the door and headed out. The streets were busy tonight. They were filled with people of all ages trying to relax from their tiring week.

Finding the restaurant wasn’t a hassle as the place was conveniently located at one of the busiest streets for weekend night-life. Dim yellow lights illuminated the tall glass windows just enough for you to see just the shadows of people enjoying their Saturday night. Green vines wrapped around the building, twirling and twisting their way around every crevice available. You tried not to fiddle with your thumbs as you nervously entered the lavish looking Italian restaurant.

“Hello, table for Kang Taehyun?” You asked the hostess. She showed you to a little table right beside a window. It was illuminated by a single candle, and already had two glasses of wine placed on it. And sitting at the table, hands crossed in front of him, was a hideously gorgeous man.

He looked like something out of a drama, really. With his tall nose and his sharp jaw, you struggled to convince yourself that this was a real man. His hands looked twice the size of yours.

“Hi, Y/n?” He asked. “I’m Kang Taehyun.”

He smiled and gestured for you to sit in the empty chair in front of him. You politely greeted him back and sat down. The two of you made some small talk before ordering. He made some suggestions on what to order, but you didn’t really care. You knew you wouldn’t like any of the pastas anyway. Plus, you swore to yourself you wouldn’t be drinking alcohol in front of strangers again.

“I’m surprised you agreed to this date.” You said, awkwardly laughing. “Isn’t a law student supposed to be really busy, especially around this time?”

“Well, I’m mainly doing this as a favour for Yoojin. She helped me with one of my classes.” He took a swig of his wine. “That girl is crazy smart. Or should I say crazy, but smart?”

“Oh?” You didn't want to admit that you were a bit disappointed he only agreed because of a favour. But he was being honest, so that was fair. What he said about Yoojin, though, took you by surprise.

“I’ve only heard rumors,” he tilted his head, “but some say that once in first year she went crazy over a guy. Started stalking him and everything. Apparently she even burned all his textbooks just because he started talking to another girl. They weren’t even dating.”

Your eyes widened at the allegations. There was no way any of that was true. You couldn’t imagine Yoojin — sweet, sweet Yoojin — to be capable of anything like that. There was no way her big puppy dog eyes and her fluffy hair could hurt a soul.

“Are you sure that’s what happened?” You asked.

“I mean, the guy was put into a mental hospital shortly after everything happened,” he shrugged, “so who knows? Maybe he made everything up in his head.”

“Yeah, maybe.” You nodded your head in agreement. Some of your hair fell on your pasta. You blushed, quickly trying to dab the sauce away using a napkin.

“You know Y/n,” Taehyun chuckled, “you’re cute. You’re not my type. I mean, I’ve only ever dated models before, but maybe it’s time to start settling down since I’ll be working at the firm soon.”

Thanks, I guess? You thought. You honestly didn’t know if that was a compliment or a jab, but either way you felt slightly insulted. You didn’t know how to reply to that, but it didn’t take long before Taehyun started again.

“I mean, look at my ex,” he said as he pulled up a picture of his ex-girlfriend on Instagram. She looked flawless in her bikini. “There’s no way I could actually marry somebody like that, right?”

If he says ‘I mean’ one more time… You thought to yourself. This date was turning south fast. This man was extremely handsome — almost god-like — but every word that left his mouth was poison infused arrogance. You didn’t know which was worse: listening to the man in front of you talk about his ex, or eating the pasta that was ordered by him.

You tried your best to stay polite with him for the rest of the evening. It was hard, though, as his cocky personality kept poking you down the whole time. It wasn’t until you finally separated that you had space to breathe. Great, you were left both hungry and annoyed.

Turning the lights on in your home, you sat at the kitchen table, still annoyed over your bad night. You took out your phone, wanting to scroll through the food delivery apps to find something to eat. Your thumbs began drifting.

No, stop. You silently begged yourself. Please, not tonight.

Your body didn’t seem to listen to your mind, however, as your thumb stayed hovering over Bang Chan’s contact. You pleaded to yourself to not press it, but your fingers seemed to have an agenda of their own. You pressed his contact. The phone call started.

One ring. Two rings.

“Hello, Y/n?”

You were shocked. He wasn’t supposed to pick up. Not after how poorly your last conversation went. You didn’t know what to say.

“Chan, how was the photoshoot?” You didn’t know what to say. You didn’t expect him to even pick up.

“It went great — feels good that it’s over, though.” He chuckled.

You wanted to tell him about your date: how arrogant Taehyun was, how fancy the restaurant was, how nasty the pasta was. You wanted to say all that, but tonight it seemed like your body just wouldn’t cooperate with your mind. And sure enough, you caught your mouth running before your mind. But this time, you couldn’t stop yourself.

“Chan,” you took a deep breath, “wanna come over?”

#stray kids #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids smut #bang chan smut #stray kids x reader #stray kids fanfic #stray kids fluff #bang chan scenarios #bang chan imagines #stray kids angst #bang chan angst #skz imagines #skz scenarios

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dream-a-little-bigger-x · 4 years

Text

The Baby Project | Julie Molina

Requested: Yes/No

hold on wait because I’ve got something here— julie x fem reader— and like you know how school pairs you up with people for the whole ‘take care of a baby project’ or whatever it’s called— that with Julie molina and like she and reader develop feelings— oh yeah

A/N: This was kinda hard, not gonna lie! Thanks @calamitykaty for sharing your ‘experience’ with baby projects in high school lol. Love you!

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Julie Molina

Song(s) used: Heaven cover by Boyce Avenue

Warnings: Just a bunch of fluff!

Words: 2,914

“Julie and y/n.” You perked up at the mention of your name, even more so at the mention of the name of your crush.

Julie Molina. Los Feliz High’s rising star. She went from not singing a note for a year to opening for Panic! at the Disco at the Orpheum with her hologram band Julie and The Phantoms. You were aware of what she’d gone through with losing her mother and with it, her love for music. For years, you’ve admired her from afar, watching her blossom into this young rockstar that just belonged on the stage with those three cute boys by her side. You’d never even dared utter a word to her, even if your best friend, Amy told you to at least say hi. A star like Julie wouldn’t have the time to even talk to a ‘nobody’ like you, let alone go out on a date with one.

So, when Mister Adams called out both your names for the baby project for your Child Development class, your insides heated up while your heart started beating faster. Especially when the Latina girl turned around to look at you and give you an acknowledging smile. The world seemed to stop all at once, and it made you wonder if you were even still alive at all.

“You have the rest of the class to start getting to know your babies and partners and begin thinking of names together. You’re going to make a birth announcement for your child together and it will be the first assignment you’ll be graded on,” mister Adams’ voice droned on about the project, but your mind had already wandered back to Julie.

She had her head propped up in her hand, her long, elegant fingers disappearing into the mop of curls that beautifully laid over her shoulders. You had always admired how healthy Julie’s locks looked. Her hair was so glossy and clearly taken care of. And her style. Her style was impeccable. Today, she was wearing your favorite outfit of hers. A baby blue, ditsy floral dress with a white T-shirt underneath it and a fuzzy bear coat thrown over it. Paired with her white doodled-on sneakers, it was the prettiest outfit you had ever seen. But your all-time-favorite thing of hers, looks-wise, was the little gap between her teeth. It made her look so innocent and perfectly imperfect.

“Get to it!” mister Adams clapped his hands together, waking you up from your hazy daydream. Before you can properly register what’s happening, Julie had reached your desk already and taken a seat next to you with her gap-toothed smile plastered on her face.

“Hi,” she greeted.

Your hands started to shake as you stumbled over your next words, “Hey. I--I’m y/n.”

A giggle erupts from Julie’s mouth as she placed her hand on top of yours. For a second, you swore you could feel a spark of electricity going from her hand to yours. Julie didn’t acknowledge it, so you must’ve imagined it, you thought.

“I know,” she said as mister Adams came over and handed them their baby in the black carrier. “Thank you, mister A.” The forty-something man smiled down at the two of you before making his way to the next duo.

Julie turned to you, “So, how shall we name this little rascal?” she asked.

Her golden brown eyes bored into you, expectantly, awaiting a good answer from you. So, your brain slowly started to get into first gear, going back-and-forth on names you’ve always liked.

Olivia, Clementine, Alexis, Charlie, Lara, Mason, Alex -- uhm… Olivia could be cute. Or Rose! No, not Rose, that’s Julie’s mom’s name. Uhm…

Your eyes wandered from Julie’s face to her backpack she had put in front of her on the desk. The silver dahlia pin reflected in the artificial light of the classroom, shimmering and tugging at a thought in your brain. “Dahlia,” you blurted out, not even thinking about it twice.

Julie’s eyes widened slightly before darting over to the little pin on her backpack. A small smile tugged at her lips as her index finger carefully caressed the metal. At first, you thought you’d said something wrong and had the urge to apologize profusely until she looked up and said, “I like that. Dahlias were my mom’s favorite flower.”

Your breath hitched in your throat. You knew the flower had some sort of significance to Julie as you saw pins on her jackets and backpacks all the time, and even noticed some in the background of her Instagram pictures. But you didn’t know the significance had something to do with her mother.

“We don’t have to use it if you don’t want to. My eyes just fell on your backpack and--” Julie’s hand reached for yours again, shutting you up with the beautiful sound of her laugh.

“Dahlia is perfect, y/n.”

Chills ran down your spine at the tone of her words. So warm. So comforting. Like a fluffy blanket was being wrapped around you. It melted away any insecurity and nerves and any other scrutinizing thoughts of self-doubt.

You tore your gaze away from Julie’s before you’d drown in them indefinitely and grabbed a piece of paper from your notebook and a pencil. “So, I was thinking to maybe have a little dahlia as a card for the announcement?” you suggested as your hand skidded across the paper, sketching the outlines of the flower.

Julie’s eyes widened at how quickly you could put a nearly perfect flower onto a piece of paper. For a moment, she just let you sketch out your ideas, admiring the passion and determination behind your actions.

“Something like this?” you slid the piece of paper in front of Julie, who picked it up to look at it up close. Her mouth dropped open as her eyes darted across, taking in every single detail you’d managed to get out in such a short amount of time. The decorative letters that spelled out the baby’s name and the details in the flower itself.

“Y/N,” Julie breathed out, her eyes finally meeting yours again. “This is gorgeous! You are insanely talented!” she placed the sketch back on the table in front of you. A blush crept to your cheeks as you stared at the grey lines on the white surface.

“I--it’s not perfect,” you shrugged, scratching at the wood of the pencil. “And I’m not half as talented as you are.” You mumbled the words in hopes she wouldn’t even hear them but she definitely did. Placing a hand on your shoulder, she opened her mouth to say something, only to be interrupted by the bell ringing.

“Come over to my place after school?” she suggested as she grabbed her backpack and the mechanic doll in the carrier. “We can brainstorm some more over the baby announcement and arrange a schedule for who’s gonna take her home when and stuff?” You slowly nodded your head, your brain still going over the words that came out of her mouth.

Julie Molina wanted to see you after school. Julie Molina. You. After school.

“Okay, cool. See you tonight then. I’ll take Dahlia with me for the day?”

“Uhm, yeah, sure. See you tonight, Molina.” You didn’t mean for it to come out as flirtily as it did. But it seemed to have some sort of an effect on the Latina girl in front of you as her cheeks tinted a scarlet red.

Julie had messaged you on Instagram with the address and her number, which you immediately saved to your phone before heading down to the homey two-story house a few blocks away from your own.

I’m here

You texted her as you stood on the driveway, your bike on the kickstand next to you. The nerves were surging through you as you looked around. Green plants and trees surrounded you as did all the pretty yellow and pink flowers. One of which you recognized: Black Eyed Susan. According to your grandma, they symbolised encouragement and motivation. Which was something your family needed, and Julie’s too after the loss of her mother.

“Hey, y/n,” Julie greeted as she exited her house through the front door, shutting it behind her, “We’re gonna go to my mom’s studio ‘cause I’ve got band practice after.” She hooked her arm with yours while the other carried the baby doll’s carrier.

She retreated her arm from yours and used it to pull one of the white doors open, revealing a spacious area filled with instruments, couches and three boys you recognized as the rest of Julie’s band. All three of them looked up from their spots on the couch and armchair with either a pen in their hand and a notebook on their lap or an instrument -- or part of the instrument in the blonde’s case -- in their hands. All looking like deer caught in headlights.

“Why’s your band here?” you asked, your eyes darting from the musicians to your project partner. Julie opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out. “Wait, I heard rumors about them being ghosts, that’s not true is it?”

A squeaky sound came from all four of them as they looked at each other for help on a good excuse until Julie placed Dahlia on the coffee table near the boys and turned to you, placing her hands on your shoulders. She said, “You have to promise not to tell anyone.”

“I promise?”

Julie sighed, dropping her hands from your shoulders and instead putting them into the pocket of her fuzzy coat. “Then yes, they are ghosts.” Your eyes scanned Julie’s face for any sign of a joke, but you couldn’t detect anything.

“Weirdly not the strangest thing I have ever heard,” you shrugged as you placed your backpack on a chair near you and dug your notebook out of it. “I hashed out some details for our baby announcement during French class.”

Confused, Julie glanced at the boys and back at the girl in front of her. “You’re not gonna run away and never come back?” she asked you, which made you stop in your tracks, your fingers between the pages of the book as you were trying to get it open.

“My grandma is into very spiritual things. So ghost chats are quite familiar to me,” you explained and resumed your movements.

The three boys got up from their spots, notebooks and instruments left on the cushions, and made their way towards you.

“I’m Luke,” the brunette with the greenish hazel eyes introduced himself, smiling at you.

Before you could chime in, the boy next to Luke piped up, raising his finger. “Reggie! Hi!” You couldn’t help but giggle at his enthusiasm before your eyes landed on the blondie last in line, assuming he’d introduce himself too.

“Alex,” he said with an awkward giggle.

“It’s nice to meet you guys. I’m y/n,” you said just as the robotic sound of a cry sounded through the room, indicating Dahlia needed something. “Excuse me.” You pushed past the boys, as they stepped aside so you didn’t have to go through them.

“She’s my partner for this baby project thing,” Julie explained to the boys. They shot each other a helpless look, wondering if the others are as lost as themselves. “It’s where you have to take care of a mechanic baby doll for a week.”

Julie walked over to you as you cradled the doll in your arms, trying to get it to stop crying, and the boys followed suit. They were intrigued by this whole baby project ordeal.

“Have you fed her yet?” you asked Julie when the baby wouldn’t stop crying.

“Yes, I did. The second I came home,” she replied as she softly tugged at the doll’s shirt she’d put on her. It was an orange long sleeved shirt with a big yellow smiley printed on it. You knew Julie had a sweater similar to this, which is why Julie had chosen to put this one on.

“Diaper check?”

“Was doing that when you arrived.”

The boys watched this interaction like a tennis match, their heads bobbing back and forth. To Alex, it seemed surreal a teacher would put two girls together for a project like this. If this were a thing back in his high school days, he would’ve never been paired with another boy.

“Why else do babies cry?” you asked whilst racking your brain on possible ideas to make her stop crying.

Luke sprung into action then and grabbed his six string from the stand behind them, putting the strap around his shoulder. He strummed the instrument a couple of times into a beautiful, familiar melody.

Julie seemed to recognize it too, because no sooner, her voice floated through the shed.

“Oh thinkin' about all our younger years There was only you and me We were young and wild and free Now nothing can take you away from me We've been down that road before But that's over now You keep me comin' back for more”

Her eyes locked with yours as she sang, a soft smile plastered on her face while you stared back at her with an endeared expression resting on your features. You loved the sound of her voice and you loved the way it was able to calm you down in an instant. Which also seemed to be the case with the robotic baby in your arms whose cries had quieted down.

Luke’s voice coming in didn’t stop Julie from looking at you either.

“Baby you're all that I want When you're lyin' here in my arms I'm findin' it hard to believe We're in heaven And love is all that I need And I found it there in your heart Isn't too hard to see We're in heaven”

The crying had now completely stopped. A quiet calm resting over the entire studio space as you and Julie kept looking at each other. Of course the boys noticed this and couldn’t withhold the smile finding its way to their lips.

“Is it me or do they look like a cute family?” Reggie whispered to his best friends.

He wasn’t wrong. Though neither you and Julie would ever admit it, there was a definite spark between you, and it only grew as the week went on.

You took turns taking Dahlia home and spent lunches and every other hour possible together with the mechanic doll that had become the vessel for your expression of your love for each other. It became such a routine that by Friday, the two of you dreaded turning Dahlia in. Neither of you wanted it to end. Neither of you knew what was going to happen if you didn’t have Dahlia to take care of together.

Were you just going to go back to how it was with you admiring Julie from afar and her completely ignoring your existence? Or were you going to stay friends?

Neither of you knew even though both of you had the same questions.

“Just ask her out on Friday when you’ve turned Dahlia in, y/n,” Amy said as you sat in French together and she had noticed your sighs of desperation. You looked at her as if she’d just said something really controversial. “Y/N, there's chemistry between the two of you! Have you seen the way she looks at you? That is not how ‘just a project partner’ should look at you!”

You let Amy’s words sink in your brain as you went on with the rest of your day after French class until the moment of goodbye came around.

You and Julie handed Dahlia back to mister Adams, along with your entire report you had worked on until two am last night in Julie’s garage, the boys all but helping you out.

The weight on your shoulders should’ve been lifted now that you’d reached the deadline and could actually hand something in. But it weighed down even harder. Mostly because you were anxious it was going to be the end of you hanging out with Julie. It didn’t have to happen, but you were scared it might.

Everything you want is on the other side of fear.

The old saying your grandma always muttered to herself haunted around in your brain as you and Julie made your way towards your desk in the back of the class. Neither of you said anything for a while until you both turned to each other and opened your mouths.

“I wanna ask you--” / “Can I ask you--”

Your words mingled and lingered in the air as you both giggled at the simultaneousness of your thoughts.

“You go first,” you said, offering Julie the floor. You couldn’t help but feel anxious yet curious about what she was going to say.

“Can I ask you if maybe we could like, I don’t know… Study together later tonight?”

Your eyebrow raised in surprise as did the corners of your mouth while a bright pink flushed your cheeks. “I kinda wanted to ask the same thing,” you admitted, which made Julie light up entirely. “So, yes, definitely.”

You had definitely found yourself on the other side of fear. On the contrary. You had found yourself on cloud nine with flutters in your stomach and clammy hands from the nerves as the date grew closer and closer.

Crazy how a stupid mechanical doll can bring two unlikely people together.

JATP taglist: @hannahhistorian92 @marinettepotterandplagg@thequirkybookaholic @bookdealer5 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @hemmingsness @iainttakingshitfromnobody @ifilwtmfc @angryknightstatesmantrash @kiss-themoongoodbye @rudysbay @thedarkqueenofavalon @caitsymichelle13 @calamitykaty @wiselight @kcd15 @vicesvsvirtuesfanfic @stars-soph @kinda-really-lost @notasofti @alexpjoyner @n0wornever @katieskidmore1 @tefilovesreading

If your name is crossed out it means I couldn’t tag you, sorry!

Lemme know if you wanna be on my taglist!

#julie and the phantoms #julie and the himbos #julie and the fat ones #jatp #julie molina #madison reyes #julie molina x reader #julie molina x female!reader #julie molina fic #julie molina imagine

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picassho-18 · 4 years

Text

Art of Fire (II)

Zuko x Reader; Part 2; 2k words

A/N: disclaimer! I have not read the comics set after the finale, but this is set a little after Zuko’s coronation

Summary: The recently crowned Fire Lord Zuko meets a new friend of his Uncle’s, a special fire bender that quickly grabs his interest over a cup of tea and the discussion of the arts.

ALL CURRENTLY POSTED PARTS: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Apprehensive, you began to walk up the steps leading to the Royal Palace doors. While you were confident, maybe borderline cocky, with your skills and artwork, the idea of seeing Zuko again made you nervous. And you most definitely did not want to make a fool of yourself.

Iroh had obviously encouraged you over a cup of tea. He had admitted to intentionally having you meet his nephew. He may also have accidentally let it slip that Zuko wasn’t socializing with anyone since things with him and his past girlfriend Mai had split up.

Iroh seemed to think that the pair of you would be good together. It was nice to hear, especially because of your rapidly developing crush on his nephew. Yet it did not give you enough confidence walking up those steps, a sketchpad and pencil in your arms.

A servant at the door saw the materials in your hands, “Hello, are you the fire-painter to see the Fire Lord?”

You swallowed, no chickening out now, “Yes, that's me!”

“Excellent, he has been hoping you would come. Follow me.” The servant turned, walking you down majestic hallways throughout the Royal Palace. At one point you walked past a courtyard, so extremely lovely with a pond that had turtleducks swimming gently through the clear water.

Not really thinking about your actions, you stopped following the servant, slipping silently into the courtyard while the servant continued to walk away, not aware that you stopped following. Checking to make sure no one was watching, you walked to the pond, the turtleducks quacking softly as you approached.

“Oh how adorable you are!” you exclaimed, sitting down at the edge as they all swam closer to you. “I wish I had something to feed you!” you said sadly, as they watched you intently, their adorable eyes following your movements.

One of the turtleducks got close enough that you were able to reach out, giving it’s head a little scratch. You let out a little awe as it swam closer, nuzzling against your fingers.

Suddenly a voice rang out, causing your hand to jerk away from the turtleduck, “So I see you’ve made a friend.” You looked up to see Zuko leaned against a column to the entrance of the courtyard gesturing to the turtleduck you had been petting, obvious that he had been watching you.

“Ah, I’m sorry Fire Lord” you stood up quickly, giving him a small bow, “I just couldn’t resist them, when I saw how adorable they were.”

He waved you off, a soft smile on his face, “It is of no concern. They are extremely cute creatures.” Zuko walked over to you, standing next to you, both of you still watching the turtleducks.

“So, um, what was that emergency that last time we spoke?” you asked him, your curiosity getting the better of you.

Zuko’s eyes darkened, the little bit of shine that they earlier vanished, “Politics” he stated simply. As if that cleared everything up. When he saw your confusion, he continued, “Ever since my coronation not everyone in the Fire Nation has agreed with my new ideologies. Lets just say the Palace has been attacked every so often by insurgents.”

“Ah” you responded, you didn’t know that there were insurgents, everyone you’ve encountered always seemed so supportive to the end of the 100 year war.

A silence overtook the pair of you, both looking at the sparkling pond in front of you, thinking about the world you lived in. While the end of the war seemed so full of hope, a sense of completion and promise of a better future, yet the struggles have not been lifted. With his eyes on the turtleducks, you took the opportunity to really look at him.

You could see the stress on the frame of Zuko’s body. Dark rings hung under his eyes, possible from the lack of sleep or constant stress. He was a walking image of exhaustion. His shoulders sagged slightly, as if the weight of the world was resting on them. In a way it actually was. The Earth Kingdom, Water Tribes, along with his own Nation were all looking to him in this time of change.

He cleared his throat, pulling you from your thoughts, “So how about we plan out this piece of art?” he asked, sitting on the grass, you following suit, nodding. Zuko suggested, “How about a mural? I was thinking possibly for that wall?” pointing to a wall just outside the courtyard.

Instantly, your brain kicked into art mode, “Oh yes! That wall is big and empty, and it can be seen throughout the whole courtyard. Any ideas of what it would be of?”

He hesitated before answering, taking a deep breath as he stared at a nearby tree next to the pond. “I was thinking it could be a portrait of my mother.”

You looked between Zuko’s face, and the tree he was staring at. You saw the sorrow buried in his face, his eyes seemed distant, like he was not present, but instead inside a memory.

“Underneath that tree, my mother and I would watch the turtleducks. In her arms, she made me feel so safe, so loved. I think a portrait of her would be perfect.”

You nodded, understanding the pain he was feeling, “I think that would be lovely.”

“My only request would be that she's smiling.” His voice trailed off, his mind devoured by more memories, as he laid his head down on the grass, staring up at the sky.

“Of course” you said softly. At your voice his lips quirked upward in a slightly smile

Next to him, you began to sketch. You have seen Ursa’s portraits before, and sketching one with a smile would not be too hard. It remained silent, the pair sitting close together on the edge of the pond as your pencil worked rapidly on the paper, and Zuko’s eyes had begun to shut. His breath had slowed down, as if he was on the edge of sleep.

You had finished the sketch, but when you saw the Fire Lord asleep next to you, you had no clue on what to do. Silently, you place the sketchpad and pencil at your feet, trying not to move much. It looked like he needed all the sleep he could get. The fact that he could fall asleep that fast was an indicator of that. What you would have never guessed was how much Zuko found your own presence soothing.

Suddenly, a gust of wind hit the courtyard, the branches swaying slightly. A young boy appeared, sliding between the pillars; his orange wardrobe and blue tattoos obvious to who he was.

What you should have done was instantly stand up and bow to the Avatar, giving him your respect, yet when he began to open his mouth to speak, probably quite loudly from the stories you have heard about him, you instinctively shushed him, gesturing to the sleeping Zuko.

You froze, finger over your lips, as you realized you just shushed the Avatar. Thankfully, he appeared to not take it the wrong way, and snickered at the sleeping form beside you. He glided softly over the grass to sit down silently beside you.

In a quiet whisper, he spoke, leaning close to you so as not to wake Zuko, “Hello. My name is Aang.”

With a small grimace, you whispered back, “I’m so sorry I shushed you. I probably shouldn’t have because you are the Avatar, but it looked like Zuko needed his sleep”

Aang nodded, “That he does. The past few weeks have been hard on him.” You looked at the young boy, yet he appeared anything but. While he was small, and no taller than the average 12 year old, his face told a different story. That he has seen things. Experienced things that no person should. It was eerily similar to the face that you had been quickly associating with Zuko.

Aang continued, “So how do you know Zuko?” He was slightly confused at how someone appeared so close to a friend of his without knowing.

Still with a soft voice, you whispered, “Um. Well I am actually close friends with his Uncle. But I’ve actually only met Zuko twice. I’m sort of surprised that he has fallen asleep right here.”

With a wistful tone, one coming from experience and knowledge, Aang responded, “He must be very comfortable with you. Zuko is not one to let his guard down with others. He is typically very closed off to others.” While he said this, you looked at Zuko’s face. It was more serene, like the stress had vanished as soon as he fell asleep.

Zuko suddenly stirred, a quiet groan rumbling in his chest as he began to rub his eyes. He sat up, glaring slightly at the sun, before he noticed Aang and you beside him.

His voice deeper than usual, Zuko grumbled, “How long have I been asleep?”

“Um, probably around an hour. You looked like you needed it so I didn’t wake you.” you replied sheepishly.

“And it appears you’ve met Aang,” he replied, his eyebrow cocked up slightly, but a warm smile resting on his face.

Aang laughed, his boyish nature showing a little more,“We have met but not before she put me in my place, stopping me from waking you.” You shyly smiled at Zuko when his eyes widened as he realized what you did, blushing.

He stood up, clearing his throat, “Well um, thank you Y/N, but I uh, must continue my duties for the day.”

“Of course.” you stood as well, along with Aang, “I finished the portrait, but uh, will tomorrow be a good day for me to bring the supplies and start?”

“Yes, of course. Midday will be perfect.” Zuko responded, trying to ignore the looks that Aang was shooting at him. The air had grown awkward, like Zuko and Aang were having their own conversation with simple looks.

Confused at the sudden change in atmosphere, you said, “Alright, then I’ll be off!” Quickly left the pair behind as they said their goodbyes, leaving the courtyard.

Aang turned to Zuko, “Well, do you have something to tell me? Or am I supposed to ignore the way she spoke about you? Or the way you were looking at her?”

***

Read Part 3 HERE

ART OF FIRE TAG LIST:

@haylaansmi

@wasntpriscilla

@justholdthesun

@furblrwurblr

@writers-thoughts09

@alrightberries

@fitzsimmons-is-forever

@katieisntcranky

@ari-shipping-stuff

@ayo-cowbelly

@ctrl-alt-jeon

@tardis-is-mine

@catraismygf

@celamoon

#zuko x reader #avatar the last airbender #firebender!reader #zuko fic #prince zuko #fire lord zuko

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scribble-blog · 4 years

Text

Soulmate AU, part 26

masterpost next

Long awaited, written gleefully and then put in a drawer and now half rotten like the poor raspberries in my fridge :( jk jk it’s still good! Maybe not on its own, but if you put it in a smoothie...? This analogy has gotten out of hand-

*****

Damian carefully etched the next line in, following the sweeping curve of the dress as best as he could remember. The page in front of him was a disaster of things half drawn, a hand stretching or an interesting branch of the tree nearest his window, but they’d all been lackluster, and he’d finally admitted to himself that he was still thinking about and worried about Marinette. About what she would say when she chose to speak to him again. And she’d appeared on the page, the way she looked after taking on that first enemy, the hem of her dress already torn and blood streaked, her hands stained but her expression fierce after the man had gone down, the way she’d looked over at him and almost seemed to expect him to be surprised.

He had just finished another swirling flower on the parts of her dress that hadn’t been tarnished when he heard Alfred’s knock.

“Master Damian,” the cool tone of the butler cut across his scattered thoughts. “You are needed in your father’s study. There is someone who would like to speak to you.”

His heart skipped a beat without his consent. Marinette hadn’t texted-

“It is a Mrs. Sabine Cheng.”

He froze. Marinette’s mother. Marinette’s mother who was utterly unknown to him beyond what Marinette had mentioned of her and what he’d found with cursory research on Marinette. “I’ll be there momentarily,” he called back, aware that it was rude of him to not actually open the door and say that to Alfred, but he needed a moment to prepare himself. He’d never had to worry about meeting anyone’s parents before except his own. Not that those instances hadn’t been ordeals- meeting Father was obviously a disaster at first, and anytime he was forced to meet with his mother about anything was unpleasant for just about anyone who knew either of them- but-

He just wasn’t sure what to expect. Especially as she had chosen to come here, to the metaphorical belly of the beast, to request to speak to him.

He stood, shaking out and stretching his hand. The sketch would remain unfinished like the rest, for now.

Alfred wasn’t waiting when he opened the door, but then, dinner was soon. And he certainly did not require an escort. He made his way there, ignoring the fact that Todd was following and interested, completely aware that his siblings would be desperate for any scrap of information they could gather on this meeting. If she was already in Father’s study, she’d spoken to him, but it was not Father who summoned him, it was her. Father had stepped out, then. But dinner would be soon, and Alfred would not allow tardiness, even if his soulmate’s mother had murdered him, so he supposed he might be safe. As long as his siblings kept their noses out once the door shut. And it was Father’s study, so they would, out of deference to him if nothing else.

Todd still might.

He stopped at the closed door. Did he- knock? Walk in? He-

Actually, he realized, he was being panicky and scatterbrained and utterly ridiculous. He rapped once, sharply across the door as a warning before opening it and stepping in, closing it immediately after himself.

Sabine Cheng was short. It was the first thing his brain chose to notice, shorter than Marinette, if only by an inch or so. The same dark hair and kind smile when they weren’t thinking about their expressions. And then she focused on him, her eyes growing slightly colder, the smile more fixed.

He had been scared of this?

He held out his hand, waiting for her to take it. “I’m- pleased to meet you, Mrs. Cheng.” That, at least, was not a total lie.

“And I you, Damian,” she smiled softly. Damian kept seeing the way her eyes caught on some of his scars- and the ensuing pity that crossed her face. “You have no idea how pleased I am, to be able to meet you.”

He wasn’t sure how to respond to that. Her voice was- concerned? Over Marinette, perhaps? She might be faking the softness-

“Of course,” she continued, “Marinette never said anything about her soulmate, but I knew that whoever was waiting for her must be special.”

“I-“ Damian floundered under her kind eyes. How did he deal with this? “Thank you? Your daughter is very special, too.”

“Of course,” Sabine nodded congenially. “Though to be frank, I was worried when she told me you followed her to Paris without her knowledge or consent. But a fine boy like you? I’m sure you had good reason.”

Ah. Her eyes had changed in a split second, from kind and motherly to kind and motherly and colder than a frozen sea. He found himself feeling very small in front of her. And as she said, for good reason.

He could buckle down or he could sit here and do his best not to antagonize Sabine Cheng. And as was quickly becoming easier since the last few days, he opened his mouth and found he actually did want to explain himself.

“I did not go about it as I should have,” he said, bowing his head towards her. A sign of deference. “I acknowledge that I was wrong in how I acted. And I assure you, I am honoring your daughter’s wishes and shall wait for her word.”

Her eyes were narrowed with ill disguised displeasure at him now, and he ran through the words in his head again. What could he have said?

“In the future,” he hurriedly continued, “I will prove myself to be worthy of your daughter-“

“Are you afraid of me, Damian?” Her voice was soft, and he held back the tender memories of Talia, who never spoke to him as such, but would definitely use this voice on those who had displeased her before showing them exactly how wrong they had been.

He smoothed his expression, meeting her eyes. Those, at least, did not seem angry, the way her voice did. “You’re my Soulmate’s mother.”

“So which part scares you?” She stared at him. “The Soulmate part? Or the mother part?”

He felt himself lean back a bit instinctively, less than any conscious choice. But the moment he did, Sabine’s face changed. Her eyes still seemed- conflicted, or concerned, but he realized it was not aimed at him as she nodded very decisively. Or perhaps it was aimed at him, but the conflict went past that. “Well, that’s settled, then. I will need to know, of course, what your favorite pastries are. We’ll be sure to make them when your family comes to Paris,” she smiled at him.

Damian, for all that he kept his face as flat as he could, felt very confused. “I enjoy-“ he blanked. “I’m not sure.”

She patted his face lovingly, a sweet gesture that she almost had to stretch to accomplish. He felt very confused. “We’ll just have to have you try them all, dear. We’ll make some fun out of it.”

He nodded along. “Why aren’t you angrier.” It was blunt, and definitely less of a question and more of a demand, but Damian did not want to be confused or emotional or anything anymore and Sabine was not helping in that quest and returning briefly to his usual persona of being tactlessly curt was practically a balm to the feelings that he had been doing a very good job at pretending he didn’t have for years.

Sabine just laughed. It sounded almost like Marinette’s. “Oh, honey. Marinette can deal with you on her own when you two inevitably get into arguments. No, my job is to make sure there’s nothing seriously wrong,” she shrugged casually, “and then to be a mother. To both of you, as I see fit.”

Oh.

Damian let that rock him back a bit, mentally. Marinette’s mother wanted- to mother him? Here? Now? That- well, it made the concern and the anger and the kindness make sense. He saw Talia’s face again, heard her voice in that deadly velvet tone that Sabine had just used- to judge if he was afraid of her?

Damian was not sure this was something he wanted or was open to at all but Sabine seemed content to let him grapple with it silently.

“Thank you,” he said shortly, “for the concern. It is… appreciated.”

Sabine beamed up at him. “You’re welcome. And now, I know it might be a tad early, but would you be a dear and show the dining room? I’m not sure I’d like to wait here until it’s time to eat.”

Damian forced everything back under control in his mind. Emotions, feelings, stray thoughts. “Will you be joining us, then?”

“And Marinette, of course, once your Father returns with her.” Sabine chuckled. “Though I’m sure it won’t take long.”

He opened the door for her, stepping out to the left and leading her down the hallway. Marinette would be there soon. Marinette was coming here. For dinner.

Locking things down in his head did not work.

#maribat #daminette #daminette soulmates #soulmate au #fanfic #MAMA SABINEEEEEEEEE I LOVE YOUUUUUUUU #i know i say that every time shes in a chapter (which is much because i love her (do you see the feedback loop))#BUT I DO. I LOVE HER #ALSO! Damian. son. boy. sonboy. shes not gonna kill you lmao chill.

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lunarianillusion · 4 years

Text

A change in fate

a maribat fanfic

Chapter 02

Along with the changes to her room, Marinette had also changed her wardrobe. She now wore a cropped baby blue hoodie over a grey-purple shirt, that matched her leggings. Over her leggings she wore a high waisted demin coloured skirt with matching heeled ankle boots. A new larger purse, more a satchel really, hung from her shoulder. It allowed her to carry her sketchbook and other tools more easily. Her hair now mostly hung lose over her shoulders with two braids coming from the sides and connecting at the back of her head.

Once she was ready Marinette walked at an easy pace to the agreed meeting spot. Duusu Had taken to hiding within her hood, so that they could drink in all of the sights. Being both not used for a hundred or so years and being broken, made this a real treat for the little peafowl. Marinette could practically feel the little god vibrating with joy, to be outside in the world again.

The sun was shining through the clouds and a soft breeze made the early autumn leaves rustle in the trees, as the two reached the park. Marinette could already spot the red-haired omega sitting on a bench close to the pond in the shade of a willow tree. He was fidgeting with a pencil and his sketch book lay on his lap. His posture looked tense.

By the look of it he too had a wardrobe change. Marinette was gonna bet that Marc had helped with the ensemble. Those two were inseparable. He wore a white long-sleeved turtleneck shirt with grey stripes on his chest. Faded navy pants and a jacked tied around his waist. A black and white backpack with rainbow details sat beside him.

“Hey, Nathaniel,” Marinette called out, gaining said boy’s attention as she neared.

“Hey, Marinette,” Nathaniel greeted, his shoulders losing the smallest amount of tension. “Glad you could come. I hope you weren’t too busy.”

“Circumstances made it so that I had nothing scheduled today. But I do hope you were not lying about it being important. Otherwise I will send the Fury’s of art upon thee,” The blue-eyed girl exclaimed in a posh voice. Marinette hoped that it would lighten some of the tension that was flowing through the air and it seemed to work. There was no need for an Akuma today.

“Oh, I beg mercy of thee. Do not condemn me to such a fate, for I would not dare to break my vow,” Nathaniel exclaimed in kind, placing his hand on his heart. It made both of the omegas chuckle and the hidden kwami purr softly.

“So, what is it you wanted to talk about?” Marinette asked, as nonchalant as possible. As she sat down on the bench and pulled out a thermos from her satchel. Which held the gods elixir, coffee. “It sounded quite urgent from your text.”

“Yeah, it is,” Nathaniel said sheepishly, scratching his neck. “But it is not an easy subject to start a conversation with. Or to talk about in general, I believe. So, let me first ask you how you are feeling. I know you have probably had this question asked to many times already. But I know what it is like to be akumatized and of the nightmares that follow so don’t try to say that all is just hunky-dory great.”

Marinette hummed at his words, raising an amused eyebrow at the last bit. Before turning her gaze away from the redhead. Her sharp eyes scanning the surroundings for any uninvited guests. While she knew Nathaniel would keep to his word the scent anxiety kept her slightly on edge. Paranoia had settled deep into her over the past few years. Only the little hidden kwami’s presence was what kept her calm. For Duusu would inform her if someone with bad intentions was to come close.

After a moment of thought Marinette answered. “I was a bit shaken after the whole event, who wouldn’t? All considered though, I think I am doing pretty good.”

After the whole reveal of her being a true soul, Duusu had helped sort out her emotions. They had given her a few suggestions on how to more healthily coupe with the more negative ones. Who knew writing your problems down on a slip of paper and then watching it burn could be so therapeutic.

She turned her gaze back to Nathaniel. “As for the subject of our meeting. Just be blunt about and we will go from there. Keeping it bottled up and it will only stress you out over time and I really don’t wanna deal with an akuma right now,” She accentuated the last part of her statement.

“Yeah, that would really kill the mood wouldn’t it,” Nathaniel sighed. He took a small breath to collect his courage as Marinette took another sip of her coffee. Then Nathaniel bluntly stated: “I know that you are the original ladybug.”

Cue spit-take from Marinette. Mental panic has reached its peak! Abort!! ABORT!!!

“Uhm…I don’t know wha-”

“Don’t even try Marinette. The amount of times I saw ladybug land on your balcony only for you to leave through the front door and vice versa. Was a big enough give away. After that your physiques just matched up,” Nathaniel boldly interrupted. Leaving Marinette in a stunned wide-eyed stare. “Hey, I might not be a fashion designer, but I am an artist and have an eye for these details just like you.” He said quickly with a small stutter. Since he was feeling a little unnerved at her wide-eyed stare. It was as if she was staring into his soul.

“How long have you known?” The female omega asked tentively, her scent spiked with anxiety. Her body language screamed that she was ready to bolt.

“For maybe seven months now,” Nathaniel replied carefully.

“Did you tell anyone?” Marinette asked further, the tension not leaving her.

“I told no one, not even Marc. I know of the importance and reasons behind a hero’s secret identity,” Nathaniel told her sincerely, allowing Marinette to breathe a small sigh of relief. The redhead then let out a small growl of annoyance. “Unlike a certain tabloid reporter and two-faced liar.” Now that that really got the noir haired girl’s attention even more than him knowing her secret.

“The spell broke,” Marinette whispered as his words settled into her brain as her eyes widened even more, if that was even possible, in surprise. While she had been frightened at the fact of him knowing her secret, but he had not told anyone. She could tell that he was honest in the fact that he had not told anyone. Since otherwise her identity would have probably been public news by now. Secrets like this would spread around like wildfire with the slightest slip off the tongue.

So, she was now more interested in the fact that he called Rossi a liar. It meant that he had broken through her spell and she wanted to know how he came to this revelation. Had it come after he had fond out about her hidden I.D. or was it something else. She was practically vibrating with a curious need to know and asked him about it.

Nathaniel turned his eyes to the sky, several emotions running trough them. Most prominent was the look of shame and pain. “It did weaken her hold over me, but what really made me realise she was a liar was when she promised to introduce me to one of my idols. One I know to have passed away. I won’t say their name, but that really broke the illusion for me,” He spoke bitterly.

Marinette let out a pained hiss at that. Knowing how painful it is to have someone disrespect your inspirational idols in that manner. She softly rubbed his shoulder in comfort and gave a small apology. Nathaniel let out a gloomy laugh and turned his eyes to the ground. “You have nothing to apologize for Marinette. I should be the one to apologize. For never mastering up the courage to stand up for you even after I realized Lie-la’s grandeur was nothing more than empty words. And I am truly sorry for that. Because after everything you have helped me with, I really should have.”

Marinette felt her heart flutter at his apology and then he just kept on rambling about how he should have stood up for her. How he should have trusted her. Making her feel hot tears gather in her eyes. She had waited so long to have one of her friends back and here was one. Trying his best to make amends and unlike the rest of her class, he had never hurt her in the same way the others had. He always remained kind to her even before he knew of her secret. He may have been afraid to stand up but did not try to ruin her life like the others. So, she had no trouble pulling him into a hug. At first it shocked the boy, but he gratefully returned the gesture.

“Don’t blame yourself. You did not do anything wrong. You did not turn your back to me like the others did. I don’t blame you for not standing up against Rossi. You would have only painted a target on your back, and she would have made you feel miserable. Like with me,” Marinette whispered. “And I need to thank you for keeping my secret all this time. It means the world to me.” Nathaniel tightened his hold on the girl as a few tears of relief and gratitude fell from his eyes, as the words left her mouth. Duusu nuzzled against her neck in comfort. A feeling of pride washing over the kwami of emotion at his little bird.

_____________________________________________________________________

After they let go of each other they settled back into more comfortable sitting positions. The atmosphere feeling lighter than it had been around them for a long while.

“If it is okay to ask,” Nathaniel spoke carefully. “Is the new ladybug permanent? Because if I am being honest, I don’t really trust her.”

Marinette let outa pained sigh. “I made a grave mistake and because of that this new ladybug has the ladybug miraculous. I don’t know how to rectify this mistake, but I will find a way. That is a promise.”

“You always find a way,” Nathaniel assured. “I’ll keep my eyes open as well. I might not be the bravest, but I want to help. After everything I need to help. Even the tiniest bit.” Marinette wanted to say he did not have to. He did not let her say it. “You have forgiven me, but now I need to forgive myself. So let me help. Paris is my home to.”

It made Marinette smile as she felt the sincere emotion and determination flood of her fellow omega. “Now if only I knew how Lie-la is capable of keeping our classmates and others at her bag and call. That might help take bit of stress of my back,” She sighed. Her eyes scanning the sky, hoping it held the answers.

This made Nathaniel scratch his neck again sheepishly. “Marc and I may have a theory on how she keeps everyone under her spell, actually,” He mumbled off.

Marinette whipped around so fast it was a wonder she did not get any whiplash. She grabbed the redhead’s shoulders and looked straight into his turquoise eyes. Her own silvery blue crystal eyes were ablaze with a cold fire. “Please explain how that two-faced bitch is killing all the fucking braincells of the people around us and turning them into fucking sheep,” Her voice had an icy chill to it that sent shivers up the Nathaniel’s spine.

“I didn’t know you could curse,” Nathaniel said trying to curl away from the internally raging female omega.

It resulted in Marinette raising an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Trust me when I say Chloe can swear like a bloody sailor. So, I learned a few things from her,” She huffed a small smirk on her face. She then let go of his shoulders, giving the redhead some room to breath, as a curios gaze replaced the once cold fire. “Please share. My curiosity is going to kill me.”

Before Nathaniel could start telling her about the theory however, a loud explosion penetrated the air. Both omegas turned to the source of the sound. A good distance away they saw a person a top a glider. They cackled madly as they threw loud explosives around.

Really Hawkmoth, can’t they have one day of peace?

The answer: Nope.

“How about we continue this conversation tomorrow over lunch. Chloe and Marc can join in on the theory. I do believe Chloe will be thrilled to know how Lie-la is capable of maintaining the utterly ridiculous situation at school,” Marinette proposed. Her eyes never leaving the new akuma.

“You are going to investigate, aren’t you?” Nathaniel asked nervously. Marinette simply nodded not looking at him. He sighed, “I won’t be able to change your mind, will I? How can I help?”

“It would be best for you to get to safety,” Marinette advised. Turning to look him directly in the eye and stopping him from objecting. “You have no need to worry about me. I still have an ace up my sleeve. So, trust me,” She assured with a mischievous look in her eyes.

Nathaniel stared uneasily at his fellow omega before nodding. “Alright but be careful, okay, I better see you at school tomorrow.” Was the last thing he said before grabbing his stuff and turning away to go to one of the akuma shelters. Leaving Marinette alone.

Taking a quick survey of her surroundings, to make sure the coast was clear, she asked Duusu to come out. “Are you ready?” the little god asked. Marinette smirked in reply. Let’s see what they were capable of.

“Duusu, Spread my Feathers”

Authors note: hey i hope you enjoyed reading this chapter. a few people have been asking me about adding them to my taglist and being honest i am not sure of how to do that. i am still very new with tumblr, but once i finally stop being dumb i'll be sure to do that. i hope you will stick around to the rest of the story. stay save.

#maribat #timari #timinette #marinette dupain cheng #nathaniel kurtzberg #ml duusu #duusu #miraculous ladybug #peacock miraculous #miraculous tales of ladybug and chat noir

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willow-salix · 4 years

Text

It’s here, Virgil’s FabFiveFeb

A nice little bit of Virg fluff for @gumnut-logic

"I think he'd like someone that has an interest in creative pursuits," Gordon mused, poking one of the boxes to tick it.

"And someone that likes to go for walks, you know what he's like for wanting to wander and take in the scenery, maybe even snap some pictures to paint later," Scott added, touching another box to tick it.

"More of a home body than an adventurer, he gets enough of that with work," Gordon added it to the list. "And they definitely have to believe that family is important, he can't have someone that won't understand his commitments."

"OK, next, all about him," Scott scrolled down to the next section. "His interests…"

"Classical music, obviously."

"Enjoys visiting art galleries and concerts."

"And eating out."

"Don't we all?"

Gordon nodded at that, there was nothing they liked more than picking up some tasty food.

"Ideal date? What's that movie he likes? The one with the lake house?"

"Oh, I know the one you mean, with the…the…" Scott's brain failed to make the connection, romantic comedies were not his thing, that was what Virgil watched with Selene, not him.

"Doesn't matter," Gordon assured him, brushing it aside. "He liked the date so I'm putting it down. A relaxed stroll along a lake side at sunset," he murmured to himself as he quickly typed it out.

"That's the one," Scott nodded. "He-"

"Allie! Have you seen Scott?" The sound of Virgil's voice floating up from the kitchen made them both jump guilty.

"I think he's in the lounge," Alan shouted back.

"Shit!"

"He's coming!"

"Quick, submit it, submit it!" Gordon smacked at the submit button, growling in frustration when a flashing red 'incomplete field' warning mocked them.

The sound of steel capped boots thumping up stairs spurred them on.

"Just tick anything!" Scott yelped, fingers flying as he randomly poked boxes in between Gordon whacking the submit button like it had personally offended him.

"Yes!" Gordon sighed as the 'congratulations' sign appeared in green. "Done!"

Scott just had time to hit the x and pull up a report before Virgil strolled his way in.

"What are you two doing?" he asked suspiciously, stopping dead in the doorway when he was greeted by the sight of the two brothers least likely to be discussing a report seeming to be doing just that.

"Nothing!" Gordon yelped just as Scott yelled "Reports" which was definitely upping the suspicion levels. He didn't believe them.

"I don't believe you," Virgil told them firmly, attempting to give them the kind of 'don't lie to me' eyebrow raise that Selene or John managed to pull off but knew he had failed. Damn the fact that he was the nice one and they both knew that any and all threats he might issue would go unfulfilled.

"You doubt me?" Scott gasped in mock outrage. "Me? Your big brother? The one that always has your back?"

"And me, your wingman? The one that always fixes your hairdryer fuse?"

"One time Gordon! That was one time! And it wasn't my hairdryer!"

"I don't know, you bought it, you keep it in your bathroom and you warned us all that we couldn't borrow it on pain of death, so that evidence all points to it being your hairdryer…"

"I won't stay here to be insulted," Virgil sniffed indignantly, "I'm gonna go find Kayo and see if she'll help me with the inlet manifold, at least she can take instructions and won't lie to me."

They watched him stomp away in a huff, breathing a sigh of relief when the sound of his boots faded into nothing.

"Damn, that was close," Scott gulped, clicking back onto the dating website to check it had worked. His eyes widened when he looked at the screen.

"What? What's wrong?"

"He's got three inboxes already."

"Seriously? Already, it's been what, five minutes?"

"Yep."

"We’re gonna be spoilt for choice."

"I guess that just means we have more chance of picking him a good one, he needs to get out more."

"He'll thank us for it in the end."

***

"I don't understand, why do I have to dress up?" Virgil groaned. "I'm tired, I've had a long day, why do we need to go to the mainland just to pick up pizza?"

Gordon glanced at Scott for help. None was forthcoming. He nudged him for emphasis.

"Fine," Scott sighed, admitting defeat. Honesty was always the best policy anyway. "We arranged a blind date for you."

"You did what?" Virgil exploded. "Why the hell would you do that?"

"We thought you needed to get out more," Gordon shrugged. "We were trying to help."

"I don't need your help, I didn't ask for it."

"Not like you were going to meet anyone on your own, was it?" Gordon continued to needle.

"John did! So did Scott. I am perfectly capable of getting my own dates."

"John is an enigma that none of us understand and Cat's my ex, I was recycling, that doesn't count."

"Do not let her hear you say that," Gordon laughed.

"My point still stands," Scott insisted waving away the worry about his girlfriend, "we don't have a normal job or the chance to socialise much, and unless fate decides to be nice and throw someone at you like it did for John or you have an ex hidden away somewhere, you can't use us as an example."

"You don't want to let her down, do you?" Gordon tossed in, knowing that his softie brother would feel guilty as hell if he upset anyone. "How would you feel if you got dumped before you'd even met the person?"

Virgil wanted to argue the point some more, but honesty and his vow never to lie to himself stopped him. They did have a point, a small one, but still pointy and therefore he was unable to ignore their logic. He decided to give in, although he refused to do so gracefully or with any forgiveness of their plotting. Plus, they were right, he wouldn't want to be responsible for anyone feeling like they weren't good enough in any way, shape or form.

"Looks like I don't have much of a choice…" he started only to be interrupted by the victorious cheers of his brothers. "Do you have a picture of her?"

"Nope," Scott grinned. "We signed you up with that new site where pictures aren't allowed, you pick based on shared interests and compatibility, not looks."

"That's…actually a nice idea," Virgil acknowledged reluctantly. He wasn't one to judge people on looks, he cared more about personality and morals.

"See, we knew you'd approve," Gordon grinned, slapping him on the back.

"I didn't say I approved of this-"

"Come on, hurry up, you don't want to be late for your date!"

***

Virgil waited nervously on the picnic bench, clutching the single sunflower Scott had thrust at him like it was a weapon, ready to fend off anything if his blind date turned out to be some kind of psycho.

They couldn't be too careful, they were far too used to people trying to find out details about them or to trick them in some way. No one was ever as they seemed.

Scott had assured him that they hadn't used his real name and that no one would associate it with him but he couldn't help the little nagging doubts that gnawed away at the back of his mind.

Plus he still hadn't forgiven them for pulling this stunt on him. Did they really think he was that bad at dating that he needed such help? He wasn't bad at dating, he got plenty of offers for a hook up, they all did. Well, not John but he was hardly ever out on rescues and Selene was common knowledge now but, to the rest of the world, him and his "single" brothers were all fair game.

Butt gropes and comments about their hard muscles were a common occurrence, so much so that he often felt like a piece of meat being squished and tested before purchase. Another reason why he rarely managed to meet anyone that he could actually see himself wanting to date.

Maybe their idea, while badly executed and heavy in trickery and taken liberties, hadn't come from a bad place. He'd worried the whole way to the meeting spot that they might have picked the worst candidate they could, but he firmly forced the thought out of his head. His brothers might like to indulge in mutual pranking and to push the limits sometimes but they would never do anything to hurt or embarrass someone, especially not a stranger. The thought had calmed him down enough that he hadn't had to make use of Two's on board bathroom facilities for an emergency freshen up because he'd stress sweated through the nice shirt and jacket they had forced him into.

He'd managed to relax a little but, now that he was sitting here alone, waiting and looking out for someone he had no clue about, he was starting to worry again.

Seeing an abandoned pen on the picnic table he snatched a few napkins from the dispenser and let his eyes roam the scenery.

It really was a gorgeous place, something often referred to as a little slice of heaven in the city. The urban park, man made in the center of the mass of concrete and steel, sported a carefully constructed lake that was home to a teeming ecosystem of endangered species that exhaustive conservation efforts had made possible.

The sun was just beginning to lower towards the horizon, painting the sky and the surface of the lake with the most beautiful colours. Virgil's fingers itched to paint them but he settled for snapping a couple of pictures on his phone.

Trees of all types surrounded the lake, creating an attractive backdrop to the whole scene and before he even realised he was doing it he was deep in concentration as he sketched the lake area on the napkin.

The process was calming, helping to soothe his nerves and slow his thumping heart, allowing him to stop and breathe for a second, helping him to resist the urge to cut and run.

"Are you Virgil Grant? You have a sunflower."

The voice behind him made him jump and drop his pen.

"Yes, yes I am," he admitted as he turned around to face his date.

***

"So, how did it go?" Scott asked when they arrived to pick Virgil up, less than half an hour after he'd text for a ride. "Did you have a good time?"

"I had a great time," Virgil smiled.

"You were gone a long time," Gordon grinned, nudging his older brother playfully with his elbow. "Did you go back to her place or something?"

"Yeah, we did."

"You did? You dog you!" Gordon leered with an exaggerated wink. Virgil just smiled, taking the teasing with his usual good grace.

"You gonna see her again?" Scott asked, pleased that their plan seemed to have gone so well.

Virgil nodded. "I told her I'd drop in as soon as I'm free."

"Come on, give us all the juicy details, tell us all about, Emma, wasn't it?" Gordon pushed, desperate for gossip.

"Nothing much to tell," Virgil shrugged. "She's sweet, we had a nice time hanging out, she gave me her number."

"That's it? That's all you can tell us?" Gordon groaned, disappointment evident in his voice.

"No, that's all I'm going to tell you," Virgil corrected. "You've interfered in my private life enough already, thank you."

"Oh, come on, Virg," Scott pleaded. But the big guy wouldn't budge, staying smugly silent the entire journey home.

Gordon and Scott had given up by the time they eased the little jet back into the hangar, going off to do their own thing, hopefully to remove his dating profile, leaving Virgil alone.

Selene and John were cuddled up together on one of the couches, watching something on the holoscreen when he made his way into the lounge.

He hadn't meant to disturb them, especially when they were actually getting some time alone for once, and was about to make his excuses but Selene had other ideas. She patted the couch beside her, shifting over to make room for him.

He accepted the offer, sitting down and getting comfortable. He didn't know what they were watching, possibly some kind of documentary.

"Cookie?" he offered, pulling a baggie of what looked to be pretty decent cookies out of his jacket pocket.

Selene glanced up from the screen, looking first at the bag of cookies and then at Virgil, her eyes widening in surprise.

"You're all dressed up."

This got John's attention as he reached for a cookie. "Have you been somewhere?"

Selene selected a cookie and took a big bite. "Oh, damn, these are so good, where did you get them?"

"My date made them for me," Virgil grinned, consuming almost half a cookie in one bite.

"Wait, wait, back up, date?" Selene actually paused the documentary, something about William Shakespeare by the looks of it.

"You had a date? That wasn't on the calendar?" John frowned. "Were they cleared by security?"

"The romance is strong in this family," Selene drawled, rolling her eyes.

"Scott and Gordon decided that signing me up to dating sites is their new hobby," Virgil sighed.

"They arrange the date? What were they like? Did you have a good time? Witchy needs details," Selene gently shoved John's face away from her as he chewed loudly in her ear and leant closer to Virgil.

"We actually had a nice time. Emma, my date, is a local, lived there all her life. She's been a bit lonely so her friend set her up on the site. We wandered around a lake for a bit and then we went back to her place."

"Awww, so romantic," Selene sighed dreamily before mock glaring at her husband. "Why don't you take me on dates any more?"

"Because we only got back off our honeymoon a few weeks ago and we live on an island?"

"No excuse."

"Dinner on the mainland next week?"

"Thought you'd never ask," she stole a quick kiss as he rolled his eyes in defeat. "Got any pictures?"

"Of the restaurant? Are you needing to inspect my reservation making skills now?"

"I was talking to Virgil."

"Oh, then carry on."

"Virg, pictures?"

"I did take one, yes," he pulled out his phone, scrolled through for a couple of seconds then turned the phone to show them the screen. "I took a selfie of us at the lake."

Selene and John blinked, unsure if they were seeing the right picture.

"Erm… not to be a judgey judgerson or anything but…" Selene trailed off.

"But she has to be older than Grandma," John finished for her, blunt and to the point as always.

They both looked at the picture again, showing a goofily grinning Virgil next to a sweet older lady, her blue rinsed hair set in a helmet of curls, her half moon glasses perched on her nose.

"Again, not with the judging, you do you, but does she have to watch her heart? She needs to be careful if she's going out picking up handsome young men."

"Stop, please stop," Virgil groaned. "She didn't know how old I was. Gordon and Scott set it up and apparently they somehow, and I choose to believe it was unintentional, managed to upload my profile to the over 60s side."

"And you didn't correct her?" John had to ask. He knew his brother was the nice one of the family but that was a little ridiculous.

"Of course I did, but we were there and she hadn't been out in a few weeks. Her grandson moved away for work and her husband died a few years ago so I bought her dinner and we had a nice walk around the park. She wasn't actually looking for a romantic date, she just wanted a companion, someone to chat to, go for a walk with and maybe see an exhibition or two. Her friend at the widows club set it up for her."

"So you were both set up by others?"

"Yep. She's a really nice lady."

"And that walk around the park turned into cookies at her place?" John's fingers snuck into the bag again to take another.

"And banana bread. She mentioned that she was going to hire a handyman to fix her sink because her daughter was too busy and she didn't have any help now."

"Ahhh," Selene could see exactly where this was going.

"And so I offered to unblock her sink for her."

"Of course you did," John sighed, hiding his smile against Selene's shoulder.

"And while I was there I put up some new shelves for her and took her trash cans out to the kerb and retuned her TV. She made me cookies to say thank you."

"She sounds lovely," Selene cooed, already in love with the thought of her. She could take or leave it when it came to little kids, usually leave if she was being honest, but she was a complete suckee when it came to the elderly.

"She is, smart too. I complimented some of the paintings she had on her walls and she told me she'd painted them, her and her husband met at art school and used to go on vacation to different countries to visit galleries and take classes. I showed her a few pictures of some of my pieces and it turned out she'd seen one of mine in a gallery in New York, you know that one of the Sphinx I did from that picture I took after that rescue?"

"Do I take it that our darling brothers don't know any of this?"

"Nope," Virgil grinned. "I'm letting them stay curious, they asked me all sorts of questions on the way back but I stayed quiet. I'll tell them eventually, once all the cookies are gone." He picked another out of the rapidly depleting stash.

"I have never heard a more Virgil story in my entire life," Selene laughed, shaking her head. "So when are you seeing her again?"

"Gonna try and visit next week to mow her lawn," Virgil admitted, looking somewhat sheepish.

"Hey, no," Selene grabbed his hand, squeezing it tight. "No looking embarrassed. You're amazing, it's a totally you thing to go on a date, not get what you were expecting and still come away with an old lady best friend and having had a great time. That's one of the many reasons I love you, because you're just so you."

"She's right," John added, patting his brother's shoulder. "One thing I've learnt the last few years is that you shouldn't make excuses for who you are or try to change. Don't belittle the fact that you have probably made her happier than she has been in months just by giving her some time and treating her with respect. Don't undervalue that."

"Yeah," Virgil acknowledged. "I know I did the right thing, it doesn't hurt to help someone and I had fun too."

"And that's all that matters," Selene said, patting his hand one last time before she let it go.

"Yep," he smiled, settling back against the cushions, munching on his cookie, his cheeks bulging like a hamster's, muffling his words. "That and the fact that her granddaughter is a nurse and she's going to introduce us next month."

#Virgil Tracy #fabfivefeb #Scott Tracy #Gordon Tracy #John Tracy #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirdsarego #thunderbirds #thunderbirds 2015 #thunderbirds fanfiction

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jean-kayak · 3 years

Text

Chapter 17

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

Pairing: Eren Jaeger x black!fem!reader

Warnings: angst lmao that’s really all i can say without spoiling anything

Word Count: 2581

A/N: This is another FLASHBACK, and this will be the last one for the rest of the series, but after this, it goes pretty downhill lmfao

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

Chapter Summary: Words can hurt. Like really, really bad.

If you ever wanted a time to be good at holding back your tears, it would be right now. Final exams are coming up, so your stress levels are already through the roof, and to make it even worse, your teacher for interior design basically told you that your project was a failure and that you're going to have to start over. Today is Friday.

It's due Monday.

You're sitting on one of the benches in the main lobby of the high school, waiting for your ride, and you just can't stand being at school any longer. You're looking down, hoping no one who's still wondering through the hallways after almost everyone's left looks your way.

You freeze when you hear a familiar voice, and you feel a new fresh wave of tears roll down your face. You hear Eren laughing with his friends, and you keep your gaze down, refusing to look up as you wipe the tears from your eyes.

And you hate how your body sheds more tears at just the sound of his voice, and you blame it on the fact that you're already stressed. He "rejected" you a long time ago, so there's no reason for you to still be pining over someone you're never going to be with.

You keep sniffling due to the fact that you're looking down, and you're hoping he walks past you soon without looking your way at all. When you feel someone lightly nudge your head, you feel your heart drop. "Hey." His voice is soft, and that just seems to make you more upset. "What's wrong?"

You shake your head, keeping your gaze on your shoes. "Nothing, I'm fine."

"Bullshit." You sigh as you look away from your shoes. He definitely is the most stubborn person you've met, and you're best friends with Jean.

"It's true. There's nothing wrong," you repeat. "Now, I'm pretty sure you'd rather be with your friends than with me, so you can go." You wipe your face with your sleeve, sniffling again which doesn't help your case.

"Look at me and say that." You feel yourself clench your hands into fists at his stupid fucking persistence, looking up at him, and you refuse to believe that you see his face soften when you look at him. "What the hell happened?" he asks, and you shake your head again.

"Like I told you, it's nothing. You wouldn't care." This is what you tell yourself, you're pretty sure it's the truth anyway. There's no way he would actually care about how you're doing.

"Where'd you get that from?" he questions in disbelief, and you scoff as you look back down at your hands, flexing your fingers as you relax them.

You shrug. "I don't know. It's just something I assumed."

"Well, it's a stupid assumption," he tells you before he sighs. "Come on, let's go." You look up at him, raising your eyebrows. "Tell whoever's picking you up that I'm taking you home." You scoff again as you shake your head.

"Eren, I already told you, I'm fine. I don't need you treating me like a baby," you respond, your words coming out more aggressive than you wanted.

"Come on, Y/N, you know I don't look at you that way. Now, let's just go." You roll your eyes as you look in the opposite direction of him, cursing yourself when you feel more tears brimming your eyes.

"I'm pretty sure you'd rather hang out with your friends than me. They're more important than I am." You didn't realize how self-deprecating you got in your head when you tried to get over your stupid crush.

"Who told you that?" He sounds angry now, and you can't hold the tears in anymore, more falling down your face as you shake your head.

"No one." I did. You try to hold back the sob rising in your chest, but it slips out, and you suddenly feel a hand on your wrist pulling you up from the bench before an arm is around your shoulders, leading you out of the school.

You find yourself sitting at that same booth in the ice cream parlor, this time barely putting a dent in your ice cream. "You can start on the work now. Just get a little bit done while you sit here," Eren says, and you shake your head, giving him a small shrug.

"No, I'll probably just wait till I get home. I'm sure you've got somewhere else to be, don't wanna hold you up."

You don't look up when he leans forward, resting his arms on the table. "Who's telling you all this shit?" You can't help but feel pathetic. You can't say yourself because then you'll feel even more stupid.

"No one, it doesn't matter." You put a spoon of ice cream in your mouth to stop you from saying anything else. You glance at him, and you know that he can tell that you're not telling the truth or that there's something else underlining your words, and you hate how much of an open book you are.

"Seriously, Y/N, do the work. I have nothing else to do." He leans back in the booth, eating some of his ice cream to emphasize his point, and you sigh heavily before you slide your ice cream to the slide and start pulling out the stuff you need to start on the toughest thing you currently have to deal with.

You're actually pretty immersed in your work, your notebooks and binder spread out all over the table, pens and colored pencils littering the surface, and you just happen to look around to see a pencil in Eren's hand. He seems pretty focused, and you chew on your lip nervously before you set your pencil down, flexing your fingers that are starting to hurt.

"What are you doing?" you ask cautiously, and he looks up at you through his lashes before he lifts his head up.

"Drawing," he responds easily, and you nod, remembering how Jean said that he had started to take it up.

"Drawing what?" you push softly, and he responds with an easy shrug.

"Stuff, I guess," he responds, and you raise your eyebrows as you give him an easy smile.

"Can I see?" He easily slides the book over to you, and you pick it up, setting it on top of your stuff. Your eyes widen when they land on the different sketches spanning across the two pages you're looking at. "You're amazing," is the first thing that comes out of your mouth, and you're really at a loss for words.

You didn't know what you were expecting, but they're way better than what you thought. "I would hang these up in my room," you say, and you keep your attention on the drawings as you hear him chuckle softly.

"I don't think they're that good," he contradicts, and you scoff as you look up at him.

"Are you kidding me? You're seriously amazing," you emphasize before passing the book back to him. "What?" you ask when you notice that he's staring at you.

He hesitates for a second, not saying anything as he looks down at the table before looking back at you. "Can I draw you?"

You blink in surprise before you let out a depreciating chuckle. "You wanna draw an ugly girl with dried tear tracks on her face?"

"I want to draw a girl who is not ugly, and who is going to finish her project and get the best grade in the class," he counters quickly, and you chew on your lip softly as you try to fight the heat rising to your face.

"If you want to," you respond softly. "What do you want me to do?" you ask, fiddling with the pencil in your hand nervously.

"Just keep doing what you're doing." You respond with a small nod before turning back to your work, feeling a little bit weird now that Eren's watching you, but you're soon back to being absorbed into your work, nearly forgetting that he was drawing you in the first place.

Eren decides to leave once you have most of your project drafted, almost ready to work on the final result. "Can I see that drawing?" you ask as you pack your backpack up.

"It's really bad," he says, and you roll your eyes just as you zip up your bag.

"I know that's not true," you object, and he chuckles softly before sliding out of the booth.

"I'll show you one day. Come on, let's get you home," he says, nodding his head towards the door, and you walk out of the ice cream parlor feeling a lot lighter than when you came in.

^^^

The end of your freshman year of high school passed in a blur even though you swore you had those weeks where it felt like it took forever for them to end. You barely made it through your exams unscathed, your brain feeling like it had been fried ten times over, but now you had the summer to look forward to.

Eren had a graduation party, and the only reason why you were there was that Jean got to invite some of his friends because his mom didn't want him to feel left out. You two were the only ones there though, most of them not wanting to be surrounded by a bunch of former seniors or either having things to do.

You went to obviously hang out with Jean, but once more people started showing up, that's when you realized that this probably wasn't the best idea. You and Jean were able to take refuge in his room for the time being, and you couldn't go to your house because Jean's mom was making him stay for at least a couple of hours.

Jean wasn't happy about it, so you listened to him complain for at least an hour about that before he switched the subject onto you. He started asking you about your relationship with Eren, and he wasn't happy when you told him that sometimes he would take you to get ice cream. "What's so wrong with it?" you ask, and he just shrugs.

"I just don't like it," he replies, making your frown deeper. "Do you like him?" The sudden question makes you jump slightly, and you try to mask the nervousness in your chuckle.

"What do you mean? Like if I--"

"Y/N," he cuts you off, his voice telling you there's no point in beating around the bush, and you sigh heavily as you pick at the side of your cup.

"No? I don't..." you trail off, not really knowing how to answer. "It doesn't matter," you conclude.

Eren causes your feelings to be all over the place. One moment, you're fine, it's like you're over him, and then he'll do something like bringing you to the ice cream parlor to make you feel better, and then those feelings explode all over again.

"I'm going to get something to drink," you say, quickly standing up and walking out of his room. You maneuver through the mass of people, the house seeming to be stuffy from how many people are inside, probably due to the heat outside.

You slide past a bunch of people before you decide that you need a breather. You make your way to the back door, sliding it open just enough for you to fit through before closing it behind you. You release a sigh that slumps your shoulders when it feels cooler outside than it does inside. You walk away from the view of the door, leaning against the house so that no one can see you.

You're about to sit down when you hear voices coming from the side of the house. You make your footsteps light as you tiptoe across the deck, and you keep your back against the wall as you look around the corner, feeling an uneasy feeling settle over you when you see Eren talking with his friends.

Eren and Will are sitting next to each other in cheap lawn chairs while Porco leans against the wall, cigarette lit in his mouth. The conversation is nothing to really pay attention to, but once you rest your head against the wall, out of their sight is what catches your ears. "You ever get that whole crush thing sorted out with Y/N?" Will asks the question, and you can feel your heart starting to pound.

"Yeah, she said it wasn't true," you hear Eren respond and a scoff follows it.

"Yeah, right. Don't tell me you believed that." It's Porco that speaks this time, and you bite your lip as your hands dig into the brick against your back. "It was so obvious, it's almost sad."

"Like I said, she denied it," Eren repeats, and you want to leave, but your feet are glued to the ground.

"And then you were hanging out with her," Porco continues. "Like you had a crush on her, too," he jokes.

"Fuck off, man," Eren says. "I was only nice to her because she's Jean's best friend. Trust me, that's the only reason why I put up with her."

You think you physically feel your heart break. The tears are brimming in your eyes, and they spill as you turn in the opposite direction towards your house, your walking soon turning into running, not stopping when your parents ask you what's wrong, and you close your door, locking it before pulling the covers over yourself and crying so hard, you fall asleep.

Coming up with a lie to tell your parents wasn't easy, you roping in Jean to help you, and you both just said that you had gotten into a meaningless fight, but you're fine now. Jean was livid when you told him what happened, but you told him not to do anything. For one, Eren was way bigger than him, and two, Eren was about to leave so there was no point.

Jean only came to your house to hang out, and you never stepped foot back into Jean's house until Eren had left for college. Sometimes Eren would text you, but you never looked at it. You would swipe the notification away, and slowly the texts stopped coming in.

You obviously knew that it could never work between the two of you, but why did he have to say that about you? Was that true? You didn't want to believe it, but he seemed so serious that it makes you cry all over again. It just makes all of those moments you had together mean absolutely nothing, and it makes you want to punch the memories out of your head.

You didn't go see him when he left, you telling your parents that you weren't feeling that well, and Jean came over to tell you that he was gone. It took you a lot longer to get over him than you wanted, but you made sure to distract yourself for the whole summer, and Jean helped you.

You didn't tell anyone else what happened and neither did Jean, and even though it caused a deep wound, you were slowly but surely starting to heal, and Eren deciding that he wasn't going to come back often made it easier for you.

You didn't have to see him ever again, and you used that to aid in your healing process.

|Chapter 16|Masterlist|Chapter 18|

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

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obx-adventures · 4 years

Text

The Introverted Twin

Summary - Being John B’s bookish twin isn’t easy. Especially with my best friend, Pope, being weird about me getting closer with JJ.

Flashbacks in italics

Warning: Mild smut at the end 😁

Catch up here: Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4

——

Chapter 5

When I get back to the Chateau, I run inside to find JJ. John B calls out for me but I ignore him. I’m on a mission and not even my brother can stop me. Once I determine JJ isn’t at my house, I jump back in the van and drive to the beach. I finally find him 30 minutes later sitting alone on a pier, lost in his own thoughts.

I give myself a pep talk and remember what Sarah told me. I walk over and sit beside him, nervously reaching out to take his hand.

“Hi JJ,” I start tentatively. “I’m sorry I ran from you earlier.”

“It’s ok, Y/N,” he mutters. It makes me anxious that he is using my real name. “It’s probably best that you left.”

“J, what’s wrong?” JJ’s eyes are red and tears are streaming down his face.

“John B and I got into it after you left. He called me out on some stuff and then told me to leave.”

“Was it about me?” I whisper, afraid that I’m the source of his pain.

He doesn’t answer but turns to look at me. I reach out to brush away his tears and he shudders at my touch. We get lost in each other’s eyes for a few minutes. His are filled with emotion but he looks so conflicted. I’m overcome with the desire to kiss him, but I can’t risk doing that until I know where he stands.

“JJ, you’ve known me for a long time,” I begin anxiously. “You know that I have a hard time expressing how I feel, especially when it’s something big. But it’s you so I’m going to take a leap of faith. Is that ok?”

“Sunshine, you can tell me anything.” JJ gently squeezes my hand to encourage me.

“I… umm, shit, ok… I… damnit, I don’t know why I can’t just say what I want to,” I exclaim, frustrated with myself.

“How about I go first? Give you some time to find the words?”

I can only nod in response, frozen in my own anxiety. He’s staring into my eyes and it’s the most intimate moment of my life. It feels like he’s boring into my soul and I’m worried he won’t like what he sees.

“I want you,” he confesses. “All of you. Your amazing brain, your beautiful heart, your gorgeous eyes. I want every part of you even though I know I shouldn’t. I know that you deserve so much more than I can give you. You are supposed to be the one to get out of here and I would be an anchor around your waist. I’ve been trying to push this down and let you go. But then you look at me like you are right now and it takes everything in me not to kiss you.”

His admission gives me the boost of confidence I need to act. Before I can think too much about it, I lean in and kiss him. His lips are salty from the ocean and his tears, but they are soft and gentle. Our lips move together slowly at first and I feel his hand reach up to cradle my cheek. His thumb brushes along my jaw while he runs his tongue along my lower lip. I open my mouth to give him access and he deepens the kiss as my hands reach up to run my fingers through his hair. When we break apart to catch our breath, I lean my forehead to his and sigh in contentment.

“JJ, I think I’m in love with you,” I whisper.

“But I’m not good enough for you, Sunshine,” he whines as he pulls back from me.

“I’m the only person who gets to decide who’s good enough for me. And you’re the person I want. You pull me out of shell and pay attention to the details of my life. You planned this amazing trip to the planetarium for us even though I haven’t talked about going in at least a year. You can tell when and why I get lost in my own head and help me come back to reality. You make me laugh more than anyone else. You have this vision of yourself as a fuck up who isn’t worthy of love. But that’s so wrong. You are so amazing.”

JJ stares at me in awe. I can see that he’s trying to process everything I just said so I give him a minute. Without warning, he stands up and drags me up with him. He continues holding my hand as he walks down the pier back to the beach. We walk in silence for a while and I begin to get anxious. Suddenly, he stops walking and moves to stand in front of me.

“Sunshine, John B basically banned me from dating you,” JJ tells me as he looks down to the sand.

“Wait, what?! That chauvinistic ass! He does not get to dictate my life.” John B has always tried to protect me but this is way out of bounds.

“Let me explain a little better... After you left the Chateau, I went inside to find out where you were going. John B said he wanted to talk to me.”

“Dude, what’s the deal with you and my sister?” John B can’t unsee the confused expression on Y/N’s face when he asked if something was going on between them.

“I like her, JB, a lot,” JJ admits. “But nothing has happened between us. Sometimes I think she likes me too but then she pulls back. I don’t know, man.”

“JJ, you can’t fuck around with Y/N,” John B knows JJ wouldn’t intentionally hurt his sister, but he also knows that JJ has never committed more than one night to a girl. “You know her, and you know how you are with girls. You can’t just mack on her and then disappear. That would kill her.”

“Bro, that is not what I want.” JJ run his hand through his hair, trying to contain his temper. He can’t believe his best friend thinks that he would do that. “She isn’t the type of girl that you just mack on.”

“What happens when it falls apart? You’re my best friend but it doesn’t mean I won’t beat your ass when you hurt her.”

“Why do you think I’m going to hurt her? I’m not stupid. I know how special she is.”

“Right, she has a chance to get out of here,” John B responds quickly. He has always known that his sister’s destiny is outside the Outer Banks. “She’s crazy smart but once she commits to something, she doesn’t let it go. I don’t want her to get stuck here.”

“I don’t want to hold her back! I want more for her than this bullshit, scrimping and scraping all the time to make ends meet.”

“But she’ll stay” John B explains. “For you, she’ll stay, and she’ll never do all the shit she wants to.”

“I could go with her,” JJ pleads, unsure if he’s trying to convince his best friend or himself. “I could be part of that life.”

“JJ come on. You and I, we’re lifers here. You can’t drag her down to our level. Go think about it before you do anything stupid. I need to try to find my sister.”

I am shocked at my brother’s behavior. Shocked that he would say such hurtful things to his best friend. He knows the verbal abuse that JJ gets from his father. Why the hell would he add fuel to that fire?

“JJ, listen to me,” I tell him as I gently grab his cheeks. “Do you want to be with me? And I don’t want you to think about the reasons why you think you shouldn’t. Just a yes or no.”

“Yes, of course I do,” JJ replies earnestly. “But –”

“No buts, JJ. If you want to be with me and I want to be with you, that’s enough. The rest of the shit will get figured out.”

“What about JB and Pope?”

“I’ll deal with them. John B was right about one thing, though. Once I’m in, I’m all in. Before I fully commit, I need to know that you aren’t going to bail. Are you in this for real?”

JJ pulls me in for a passionate kiss. He’s holding my face gently with both hands and claiming me as his own. He tilts my face slightly to gain deeper access as he slowly slides one hand down to my neck and the other down to my lower back to pull me closer. With my whole body pressed against his and his tongue exploring my mouth, every part of me feels like it’s on fire. I place my hands against his chest and roam over his rippling muscles, trying to memorize every dip and curve. He slowly pulls back and returns both of his hands to my face.

“I am in, 100%. Let’s go back to my place to figure all of this out. My dad is out on a fishing trip so we don’t need to worry about him.”

“JJ, we can go to the Chateau,” I tell him, thinking he’s anxious about seeing my brother again. “I told you I’ll deal with John B.”

“Sunshine, can we just have some time together before we bring our whole world into this?” The idea of alone time with JJ sends a shiver through my body. It feels like we are in our own delicate bubble and I realize that I’m not ready for that bubble to pop yet either.

I nod at him and he pulls me along to the van. I don’t want to leave John B stranded at home, so he follows behind me on his bike back to the Chateau. I hastily write a note telling my brother that I’m ok and I’ll be back in the morning. I leave the keys and note on the driver’s seat and run over to JJ. I’m a little nervous about riding on his bike but don’t hesitate to climb on behind him and wrap my arms around his torso.

When we get to his house, JJ leads me by the hand to his room. Even though he knows his father isn’t home, he locks his bedroom door as a precaution. I haven’t been in JJ’s room since we were kids and I take a moment to explore the one space in the world that is completely his own.

I’m surprised to find so much of his personality in the room since he spends so much time at my house. He has a wall completely dedicated to the Pogues, covered in pictures and mementos of all of our adventures. I stop exploring when I see a piece of art that I don’t recognize. It’s a pencil drawing of me hunched over studying. I’m in profile, so he must have been sitting on the couch while I was studying at the table. My hair is thrown up into a messy bun, held in place by two pens. I’m wearing one of my dad’s old sweatshirts and have a pencil resting on my temple while I chew on my bottom lip.

“I didn’t know that you draw,” I say quietly as I continue to take in all the details of the picture.

“Only when I’m inspired. You were studying for the SATs the first time you took them. I think you sat in that position for 6 hours. I’m pretty sure you didn’t even know I was there. You were so focused and intent, I couldn’t help watching you and sketching. That was when I realized I have feelings for you.”

I turn to JJ and study his face. He looks vulnerable, something I’m not used to with him. I walk over and pull him into another kiss. This kiss feels different than the others we’ve shared today. JJ slowly walks me backwards until my legs bump into his bed. He guides me down to the pillow and settles next to me with one arm tucked under my neck. I turn so I can look at him and our noses are inches apart.

“You are so damn beautiful,” he whispers as his hand slowly glides down my cheek to feel along my neck. He traces his fingers along the exposed skin on my chest and I rest my hand on his waist, feeling his muscles contract as he breath shallowly. I move my hand slightly to get under his shirt and touch his soft skin. I smile when I feel goosebumps form. He follows my lead and trails his hand down my side, and I can’t help the small gasp that escapes as he brushes along the side of my breast. His hand continues down to the hem of my shirt and I sigh when his warm fingers touch my bare skin.

I lean towards his face and press delicate kisses along his cheek bones and down his jawline. I’ve never kissed someone like this, so I rely on instinct and JJ’s reactions as a guide. My mouth travels down to his neck and I slowly work my way up behind his ear. I lick along his ear lobe and he hums in response. I nibble gently along his ear and feel his hand tighten on my waist. I give him deep kisses down the side of his neck and then leave feather light kisses as I move back up to meet his mouth.

When our mouths connect, it’s like an explosion. His tongue slowly runs along my lower lip and then he catches it with his teeth. I moan as he tugs my lip slightly and I move my hand up his back. He swipes his tongue into my mouth and kisses me hungrily. I dig my fingers into his back, and he smiles against my mouth. He kisses along my cheek and then moves to the spot behind my ear. I shiver at the contact and scrape my nails down his back. He pulls me closer to him as his hand roams up my side, under my shirt. He hesitates before touching my breasts until I nod in consent. He then firmly cups my breast in his large hands and trails his finger under the top of my bra to brush against my nipple.

I throw my leg over his hip and use the momentum to flip him on his back with me straddling his lap. His hands automatically rest on my waist and his eyes are filled with lust. I grab the bottom hem of my shirt and pull it off in one smooth motion. I watch JJ take in my lace bra as his hands roam up to touch me. I lean forward and meet his mouth again as his hands explore my body. I feel his erection under my core, and I rock slightly against him, eliciting a moan.

He rolls us over and trails kisses down my neck and makes his way to my breast. He sucks my skin on the top of breast while his fingers tease my other nipple through the lace. I groan and arch my back to give him more access. He roughly pulls down the lace to swirl his tongue around my nipple while he continues to the tease the other. I drag my fingernails up the bare skin on his sides and feel him shiver. I move my hand along his waist band and hook my fingers into the top of his shorts to pull him closer.

“Wait, wait, wait,” he says as he pulls away.

“Did I do something wrong?” I ask timidly.

“Fuck no, Sunshine... we just need to call timeout.” I’ve never heard JJ sound so unsteady.

“You don’t want to keep going?” I can’t hide the insecurity in my voice.

“No, I definitely do.” He rubs my cheek tenderly with his thumb. “But I don’t want to rush into this. I want this to be different. I want your first time, our first time, to be special.”

“JJ, everything I do with you is already special,” I insist as I cup his face. “It’s not the circumstances that make something special, it’s the person that you do it with.”

“I know, I just want to do this right, is that ok?” I can tell from his voice and the way he’s looking at me that he’s as new to this as I am. He may not be a virgin, but this is still a totally novel situation for him.

“Of course, J” I cuddle into him and enjoy the feeling of his strong arms around me.

“Can I take you on a date tomorrow, Sunshine?” He traces his fingers over my still exposed skin while he awaits my answer.

“I would love that, J. I just need to go home first for a bit.”

“You going to talk to John B?”

“Yes, my brother and I will be having a firm conversation about his role in my life.”

“I don’t want to get between - ” I stop JJ with a kiss.

“Stop, don’t worry about me and John B,” I insist. “We’ll be fine. And you two will be fine.”

“What about Pope?”

“I’m not sure... The last thing I want to do is hurt him even more. He’s my best friend but I can’t make myself feel something that isn’t there.”

“He’s one of my best friends, too.” I hear the guilt in his voice. “But Pope is a good guy, he would want us to be happy, right?”

“I hope so. I’ll try to talk to him tomorrow too.”

We spend the rest of the evening talking and cuddling. I feel safe in JJ’s arms and fall asleep listening to his steady heartbeat as he combs through my hair with his nimble fingers.

Ch 6

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