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mcwriting · 3 years

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A Science Project for the Ages

Big thanks to this anon for this request! Sorry it's taking me longer to fulfill my requests from when I was in quarantine but I'm trying to get those done soon!

This is a slight continuation of lab partners but can definitely be read alone :)

Ship: SoftNerd!Tom Holland x Reader

Word Count: 1883

Warnings: one blink-and-you'll-miss it bad word

⚛︎

There was a loud buzz as your phone vibrated against the wood table in the science library.

You quickly picked it up, trying not to disturb the few other students around as you looked down at the screen.

Tom.

Though you were together now, he very rarely called at this time. He knew you always studied here before dinner time and respected that.

You grabbed your notebook and bag and shuffled into the hall to answer.

"Tom? Is everything okay?"

"Hey, um. So sorry to bother you, but you've finished your science expo project, right?"

You furrowed your brows as you slid down the wall to sit and stuff your notebook back in your bag. You knew this conversation was going in a weird direction already. You could hear a faint beeping in the background.

"Uh, yeah..?"

"Right, and what was that project over again?"

"I did an analysis on light absorption of different common solutions and then compared them to the color they turned when I lit them on fire. I thought we already talked about this the other day..?"

"Yes, yeah, sorry. So one more question before I tell you what's up. Do you happen to know how to bake?" Tom asked quietly.

Suddenly you remembered what all his project was on.

He was doing a food chemistry project, explaining certain phenomenons that happen when you bake. He had hoped giving people baked goods would make them like his project more.

"I- Tom I told you I would help you but you said it would be fine," you said flatly."

"Well..... Now it's not fine, and Alex isn't here to help me. He went to his girlfriend's."

Tom's roommate. He was usually pretty patient with Tom's clumsiness, but sometimes he just had to get out and enjoy a day off, too. Tom understood, but now the burden fell on you.

"Fine, I'll be there in a little bit. Text me if you need me to bring anything."

⚛︎

You walked in to the smell of burnt. It was overwhelming and you choked as you rushed to the window to air out the apartment.

"Hey, sorry about the smell," Tom said nonchalantly from the kitchen.

You turned to see the situation at hand, which was definitely... a situation.

It was like something out of a movie. Messy bowls and utensils littered the sink. There was cake batter splattered across the counters. Finally, the culprit still sat in a muffin tin on the bar: a dozen very black cupcakes.

You sighed.

"Forgot to set the timer?"

"Yep."

"And let me guess. This was your first experience with baking?"

"That's exactly right."

"Of course," you muttered, but then clapped your hands together enthusiastically. "Well, then. Let's try and fix this, shall we?"

You leaned up and pressed a quick kiss to Tom's cheek, then brushed past him to grab the tray.

"First on the agenda, we are going to take off the papers and chuck these off the balcony to let out some frustrations, alright?"

You were lucky in that Tom's apartment was on the top floor, and his balcony faced a wooded area. The only thing he could hit was a tree and the food would eventually biodegrade into the soil.

You both tossed them, competing to see who could throw the farthest. It let Tom blow off some steam, and also gave more time to ventilate the place before you went back in.

After the last cupcake (if you could call it that) was tossed, you got started on cleaning everything up. He had used a lot of bowls for one boxed cake mix, but you didn't ask.

It took a while to make sure things were sufficiently clean, but finally everything was ready to make a new batch.

"Oh one other thing before we start. Have you ever made a meringue?" Tom asked as he preheated the oven, which you carefully supervised to make sure it was right.

"I mean, I've made some before. Why?"

"Well part of my project was talking about how egg proteins bind. They sound pretty easy. Just eggs and sugar, right?"

Your hand covered your eyes in disappointed surprise.

"What? No. Tom, meringues are like, notoriously one of the hardest things to get right. They land just before macarons, and meringue is one of the main parts of a macaron!"

"What are you talking about? How can something with two ingredients be that hard to make?" he tried to argue, but you weren't about to let him trick you into making something so difficult.

"Did none of your research explain how moisture, temperature changes, utensils used, and method of cooking affect the outcome."

"...Uh... no."

"Were you planning on using the Swiss, Italian, or French technique?"

".....I didn't know there was more than one."

"Well then you might go do a quick search to add to your presentation while I cover the cupcakes."

While he did that, you made up the batter and got the cupcakes in the oven (set at the right temperature for the right time), then got started making some frosting.

"Hey, y/n. Did you know you aren't supposed to make meringues in a plastic bowl?"

"Yep. Plastic can retain lipids which prevent proper binding. Same reason you can't whip the yolk."

"That's what this says! How did you know that?"

You shrugged.

"I like to bake. By the way, you better credit me as your pastry chef on the presentation."

"Will do."

He made some edits on the page and found a recipe claiming to be the easiest method, so you caved and agreed to help him make them when the cupcakes were done.

As you measured sugar and got the whisk attachment ready, you looked over and admired Tom as he meticulously separated the eggs.

You couldn't help but fall head over heels for him all over again seeing how he did each step carefully, all his focus on each little egg.

Sure, he was a little clumsy sometimes, but he was precious and cared about whatever he did.

It took what seemed like hours to get the egg whites whipped properly (and lots of arguing with Tom about what "stiff peaks" meant), but finally you had them in a piping bag and on a pan to bake.

You couldn't help but wait by the oven in anxious anticipation for the meringues to come out, even though they'd be in there for a while.

Tom sat right next to you on the (surprisingly) clean kitchen floor as you stared at the oven.

"Babe?" he asked softly, leaning into you.

You hummed a response, taking the opportunity to rest your head on his shoulder.

"Thank you for coming and helping me. I know you value your library time."

You smiled and sat back up, looking Tom in the eyes.

"You know, I wasn't really studying anyways. I was watching youtube videos with my headphones in because I didn't want to go home yet."

Tom had a mischievous grin and furrowed brow.

"So you just go there as an excuse to get away from me?!"

You laughed and knocked into him slightly.

"No! I just got done with my homework and wanted to hang around campus for a while... and I had a feeling you'd call eventually."

Tom gasped.

"You didn't trust me!?"

"Now that I can answer truthfully..." you started, causing him to pout. "I'm not saying I didn't trust you at all, it's just that I had never once heard of you baking and figured I would prepare myself accordingly."

"Does this mean that Alex knew too?"

"I can't speak on his behalf, but I'm glad it was just us anyways. I like getting to spend time with you like this." You paused to peck him on the lips. "Want me to read over your project? I know those spelling errors can slip by sometimes."

Tom grinned, wordlessly getting up and offering you a hand.

⚛︎

The expo was in full swing and you nervously stood on the other side of the room as your project to watch people walk by and observe your findings.

You had already given your presentation to the judging panel and now the expo was open to the public, so you tried to avoid stressing too much as you talked with some friends.

Suddenly a pair of warm arms came around your stomach and Tom's scent enveloped you.

"Hey baby, how ya feelin'?" he asked, resting his chin on your shoulder as your thumbs rubbed over his hands instinctively.

"You know me. A little nervous." You flipped in his arms to face him. "And what about you? The judges like our sweet treats?"

"They sure seemed too. Dr. Grand liked the meringues so much she asked for another."

You smiled.

"Well either way, I'm proud of us both."

"Thanks again for helping, I couldn't have done this without you. I made sure to emphasize how difficult meringue making is during my presentation thanks to you."

Finally your friends had enough of the cutesy bullshit and convinced you and Tom to rejoin the conversation, both of you with arms around each other as you conversed.

Time passed and eventually they gave prizes to the best projects of the expo. You knew you wouldn't win anything, there were some far better projects out there that included heavy research.

"And in first place, 'Science around us: the chemistry of baking' by Mr. Tom Holland! Congratulations! If all of our winners could come pick up their ribbons and get a photo for the newsletter, that would be great."

Tom stayed casually next to you, so you had to shake him and get his attention.

"Did you hear that Tom? You won!"

Tom blinked a few times, then gasped.

"I won!? I mean, we won!!?"

You rolled your eyes and pushed him forward.

"Go on, get your blue ribbon, baker boy."

He excitedly rushed up to the table where his prize awaited (tripping a few times, but you ignored that) and bounced on the balls of his feet as someone pinned the ribbon to his shirt.

You could see the sheer delight on his face as the winners took a group photo, and he practically skipped back to meet you.

You and your friends gave him congratulations as he happily looked down at the blue piece pinned to him.

He then unpinned it and tried to hand it to you.

"Now, don't congratulate me, y/n gets all the credit for making everything."

"No, no. It was your idea and you did the research. You deserve that more than anyone else. And plus, you were right. Baked goods did give you an edge over the competition."

"Well I say it was a science project for the ages!" he exclaimed, holding up the ribbon. You and your friends cheered to that.

"How 'bout we go celebrate your win over lunch, hm? The cupcake I had isn't holding me over and I'm starving."

"Sounds perfect, darling. Lead the way."

You happily headed off towards the nearest place on campus, completely oblivious to the fact that Tom had pinned his blue ribbon to your backpack.

He quickly made up time and slipped a hand into yours.

If nothing else, he was the boyfriend of the ages.

⚛︎

A/N: thanks to the anon who sent the request for this! I really enjoyed writing it! I think I could've improved some things but overall I'm pretty satisfied with it, and I hope you are too!

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#a science project for the ages #tom holland #tom holland story #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland one shot #tom holland x you #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland imagine

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lunarastrobabe · 3 years

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Joel Miller x F!Reader: Sleepless Night

(Fluff/Angst) (Age Difference) (Warning: Details of smut included)

Joel sat down on one of the chairs on his porch, clutching his guitar in one hand, and coffee in the other in his well-known owl mug. Letting out a heavy sigh, with tired eyes and set the guitar by his feet, taking a sip from his drink. He had struggled sleeping the past few nights due to the last patrol he had went on with [Y/N]. The memory of her getting jumped by runners and her cries for help traumatised him. Thanks to him, he saved her life. It wasn’t the first time he had saved her or risked his life to keep her safe, he was determined to protect her. Since that day, he’s been avoiding her. He had never spoken to her openly about his past, and he knows if these feelings keep growing, he would regret not talking sooner.

He remembered when she had arrived at Jackson a year and a half ago, being only 25 and having no family, she found it hard adjusting to new people, new faces. After a few months, she settled right in, getting to know Ellie and Dina and helping out on patrols with them every now and then, and having a brotherly-sisterly bond with Tommy. He took her in to his house, she didn’t know anybody and Joel was the first person she had met, feeling he was trustworthy.

Staring at the dark liquid he swirled it around in circles not noticing you had went looking for him, she stood in the doorway of the front door, her hand on the doorframe.

“Joel?” Her quiet tone was like music to his ears. Jackson was peaceful, most of the area was asleep, snow covered the ground like a blanket. He jumped a little at her presence, but relaxed realising it who it was.

“Evenin’.” He says, setting his almost empty mug of coffee on the small wooden table, which was now cold from the length of time he was lost in his thoughts. His voice was rough, feeling exhausted from the lack of rest.

“Can’t sleep?” She asked, closing the door behind her, keeping quiet as possible not to wake up the nearby neighbours and took a seat beside him. He shook his head at the question. “No.”

She pulled her jacket closer around her body and crossed her leg over the other. Joel shifted in his seat a little, clearing his throat. She looked over at him, watching the wind go through his soft, silver hair. His heart skipped a beat, feeling her eyes scanning him, he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

“I never said this before but,” She started, moving her hair from her face. “Thank you, for saving my ass again.” He turned his head, looking over at her, he had missed that smile, he had missed her laughter when they would patrol and she’d throw snowballs at him. Seeing her around Jackson, having that friendship with Ellie and Dina, offering to take dangerous patrol areas to keep the town safe. Risking her life multiple times to save others. The sound of her name or the sound of his name being spoken by her, feeling a sense of new-found love and happiness, something he missed experiencing a long time ago.

“S’alright darlin’.” He gave her a half smile, his hazel eyes filled with fear, and pain, he masked it well and she noticed. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from her, the way her eyelashes fluttered, or when her nose would scrunch up when it was cold, or when they would sit by the fireplace while he strummed his guitar.

“Um, Joel?” She looked at her lap and fiddled with her fingers. He sat up in his chair, his hands resting on his thighs. “Is everything okay? I haven’t .. seen you, for a while.” Her words had a nervous feeling to it. He exhaled heavily. He had to tell her what was going on in his mind, the thought of her blaming herself for his avoidance was already worrying him. He was the only one she trusted with anything, especially from the start. Every night, if she needed his comfort, his in particular, he would be there for her, he’d make coffee for her and sit with her and let her vent to him about anything that bothered her. He never wants her to feel alone, and during that time of knowing her, he fell in love, and he knew he was, he kept it inside, fear of losing her, like he had lost Sarah and Tess.

“Let’s go inside and talk this out.” He stood up, taking his guitar gently in his hand and the empty mug, guiding her back in the house. The heat from the lit fireplace warmed up the room. Kicking off his shoes, he set the guitar next to the couch, and went to the kitchen to make the coffee, keeping up the tradition. She sat on the couch and patiently waited for him to return, admiring the large bookcases. Sounds of spoons clinking together and the shuffling of his feet across the floor made her smile.

Joel returned, holding two mugs of hot coffee and placing them on coasters on the small coffee table. Her eyes watched his every move, thanking him for the drink, smiling to herself, he remembered to put some cinnamon in her drink, that being her favourite. The curtains were shut and there was silence between the both of them, the fire was the only sound in the room. She sat cross-legged and turned her body to face his, holding the mug in her hands tightly warming up her cold fingertips, waiting for him to explain.

He sat there for a while, figuring out how to explain his behaviour to her, the guilt inside of him eating him away. A sad expression washed across his face. She frowned and looked down at her drink.

He set his mug on the coaster again, letting out a sigh and looking over at her. He felt her eyes burning into him, as if they were looking into his soul. “That day, when the infected attacked you,” He always found it hard expressing his true feelings when it came to people he cared deeply about, afraid that more loss and more pain would return. She listened to him, she really listened, understanding every word he was saying. “watching you struggle and cry, it-, it terrified me. Terrified of what would happen if, I hadn’t stopped it.” A glistened look covered his eyes, he kept his composure, trying to stop himself from breaking down.

She set her mug beside his, taking in what he had just told her. As he continued, “I’ve had, a great deal of loss, fighting to survive all these years, but, also fighting to protect you,” He rubbed his bearded chin with his hand. “I don’t want those things, out there, to turn you into one of them.” He pointed to the window, gesturing to outside. His thick Texan accent growing deeper, the difficulty expressing this made his stomach flutter.

She swallowed the lump in her throat, feeling touched by his words and realising, she meant more to him than he let on. She was patient with him, knowing he was closed off, always kept to himself, no matter the situation. He was more worried about the feelings and well-being of others than his own.

“But, why me?” She asked softly, he knew she appreciated everything he’s done and still doing for her and for her safety. Her actions of being there for him when he needed her was enough proof. Actions speak louder than words. His brows furrowed at her question. Keeping her eyes down, away from looking into his eyes.

“You go through near-death experiences when it’s us together, you’ve slain multiple clickers and bloaters, you’re so hell-bent on keeping me as close as possible to you. There are other people who need more protection than I do.” She felt guilty for causing him to put himself through horrible situations, feeling like she was forcing him to look after her. “I just, feel like a burden.” She bit her lip, worried at his response.

“Look at me,” He whispered in a raspy tone. When she refused to look into his eyes, he spoke once again. “Darlin’.” That little pet name was a little secret that only they knew about. He reached over, tucking hair behind her ear and turning her face to look at him, a hand resting on her cheek. His large, warm, rough hands felt like a security blanket to her. All the anxiety and stress he felt, washed away when his skin came into contact with hers.

“You ain’t ever been a burden.” His eyes stared into hers, all he ever wanted to do was love her, make her feel special. His body shifted position. She had no trouble opening up to him in the past, he knew her like the back of his hand, he knew about her family, her childhood, the trauma she experienced, he felt deeply connected with her, they both had experienced loss.

There have been times where he’s had thoughts of making love to her, just to hold her close to his body, being as gentle as possible. The dream of pushing her against the wall, both their hands hungrily grabbing at each others clothes to tear them away. Her pushing him closer to press his hard-on against her core, to feel how much he wanted her. Grabbing at her thighs as she’d grind herself against him, her soaked panties staining his jeans. Curiosity being a main factor, wishing to know what she tasted like and what he tasted like between the sheets. To graze his lips across her skin, to feel her body tense up underneath him when hitting her high, her nails digging into his skin as he pushed in and out of her. He longed to hear her soft moans, her calling his name as he made her his own, tangling fingers through her hair. He never wanted to let her go. She had never laid with a man before, as she had told him subtly in the past. She had been having those thoughts and feelings towards him just as much as he did. Her having no experience with sex in general speak, in her mind, she knew exactly what she would do.

He took her face in his hands, rubbing her cheek with his thumb, he didn’t like feeling vulnerable, but it was overpowering, he wanted to kiss her, right there, right now. She slowly moved her position and kneeled in front of him, his hands sticking to her like glue. She moved little bit closer.

“You promise?” She whispered, his skin covered in goosebumps, feeling the closeness of their faces just inches apart. Her lips hovering over his.

“Yes.” He replied. She was now in a crawling position, her hands finding their way into his lap then moving them to his grey t-shirt, running her hands up his chest and finally resting them on his shoulders. His breath was shaky, waiting for it to finally happen.

And there it was, his lips brushed against hers, his facial hair tickling her mouth. It was slow and innocent at first, his body tensed but relaxed, both getting used to what was happening in the moment. He pulled back for a moment, feeling a little embarrassed at the sudden urge. His eyes flickered from her eyes to her lips. Licking his own, wanting to taste her fully, she wrapped her arms around his neck, leaning her body weight on his chest, his arms snaked their way around her waist, holding her tight, worried if he let go, she would disappear. She let out a slight giggle, leaving him with a comforted feeling that she wasn’t rejecting him.

“Kiss me again, cowboy.” The use of the word ‘cowboy’ surged through his veins, kissing her once again, his tongue diving in taking dominance. His grunts and her moans against the kiss was too much to bare. Feeling beads of sweat on his forehead and her heavy panting, he pulled back and looked once again in her eyes.

“Take me.” She ran her fingers across his lips, his mouth curving at the side with a smile.

“You sure?” His fingers ran up and down her sides.

“Show me what you’ve got.” Replying as she kissed the corner of his mouth.

That burning feeling of lust, desire and attraction possessed them. Feeling a sense of love in his heart, he felt whole.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #the last of us 1 #the last of us 2 #the last of us #the last of us part 2 #the last of us part two #the last of us ii #tlou1 #tlou2 #tlou #naughty dog #x reader

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iwantitiwriteit · 3 years

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Slow Burn: Book I - Part 7

The Lunch - Small Thank You’s

Pairing: Chris Evans x Famous!Reader

Summary: You and Chris get to know each other better over a flirty friendly lunch.

Warnings: Fluff, spinkle of Angst, Profanity, phonetic spelling of words said in a Boston accent because I needed a laugh

Notes: Hey loves! Hope you all are well! It’s been a while— praying I didn’t forget how to write too bad and y’all enjoy this installment lol. Little FYI: I’m basing the reader’s music off of that of Banks and SZA. Before you dive in, set the mood with the moodboard + music specially curated to go with this part! Read the previous part here.

The GPS said the drive from the museum to the restaurant would be… well, you were distracted from that bit of information. Not that it would matter. Chris keeps making turns against the suggested route, citing that this was “his city” and that he’s a “real Boston boy”.

What you do know is that the talking and laughing with Chris made the car ride seem all too short. Pointing out familiar streets and landmarks, he lit up telling you his childhood stories laced within the city. Pardon, his city. The glint in his eyes and excitement in his voice sent tiny sparks up your spine, but you did your best to ignore it.

Chris tried to guess where you had the two of you going for lunch. You, however, wouldn’t give in to his guesses. Eventually, you arrive at a market of sorts, a culture clash of small businesses and patrons. It’s in an area Chris is familiar with, but he never thought much of coming to.

“I thought we were going to a restaurant?” Chris inquires, not seeing a food establishment from his spot in the driver’s seat.

You puff out your jaw, squint your eyes, and proceed with your best ‘Godfather’-like impersonation as you tell Chris,“I thought you would’ve learned to stop asking me questions by now, hm.”

“That... was horrible.” Chris’ deadpan causes you to giggle in response.

“I know! Now c’mon; I’m starved!” You draw out as you reach to let yourself out of the car.

“Woah, woah, hold on,” Chris stops you with a gentle hand on your arm. You questioningly look over your shoulder at him. He unbuckles his seatbelt and gets out of the car. Settling back into your seat with a huff of delighted shock, you realize what he’s doing.

Chris jogs to your door, the returning drizzle giving him a sense of urgency. He opens the door for you then offers his upturned, open hand for you to choose to take. You hesitate for a millisecond before obliging, delicately placing your smaller hand in his large palm.

You’re unsure of the last time anyone was this... chivalrous to you. Trying not to dwell on it too long, you give him a soft-spoken ‘thank you’. Chris responds with an equally soft ‘of course’. You both find it difficult to meet each other's eyes, missing the shy smile the other is sporting.

“Lead the way,” Chris gently prompts with a hand extended in the market's direction.

Mildly busy, the market is livened by business people, college students, housewives and househusbands alike. Store fronts of small businesses ranging from sustainable fashion to high-end housewares line the long cobble stone path, accented by fairy lights for added whimsy. Chris curiously takes in the sights from beneath a low baseball cap and hoodie. He’s sure to not let his eyes linger too long for fear of locking with anyone.

Meanwhile, you’re walking with purpose, leaving a distracted Chris behind. He catches up when he notices you turn a corner in his periphery. When he follows the path you took, he finds you by a green, white, and red beaded archway.

You pause and look up at Chris, a playful grin on your lips that makes his heart skip a beat. He’s looking down at you, brows raised with utter anticipation. You think this might be your favorite expression on him. You pull back and step through the beaded entrance, Chris following suit closely behind you.

“Woah…” It was almost as if that small act of stepping over the threshold transported you both to Sicily. The faint notes of Italian standards play in the background as Chris gawks at the charming restaurant.

The mostly occupied dining area is quaint, housing about 10 tables max, including a couple of booths. The walls are decorated with floor-to-ceiling built-in shelves of libations from Italy. The alcohol display is interrupted by creeping vert vines that add that little bit of spice to the space.

As a waiter walked by, Chris breathed in deeply, the warm aroma of marinara sauce, freshly baked bread and Italian spices filled his nose and lungs.

“How’d you manage to find the one Italian restaurant in the greater Boston area I’ve never been to, much less heard of?”

“Hmmm… must not be as much of a Boston boy as you think,” you say with a wink, and Chris scoffs through his lopsided smirk.

“There she is!” a bellowing voice familiar to you draws yours and Chris’ attention away from each other. Chris looks on as the short, husky man pulls you in for a cheek-to-cheek kiss. “It’s been too long! Mi sei mancata la faccia!”

“Charlie, you know I have no idea what you’re saying, but I like the way you say it!” You share a laugh with your Uber driver-turned-friend. “And what do you mean ‘it’s been too long’! I was just here last week.”

“5 days ago to be exact. 5 days since you, ya castmates… most importantly ya directah,” Charlie stresses lustfully in his strong Boston accent, “have swarmed Ma’s restaurant. Whassup with that, huh?”

“The real question here is what’s up with your crush on Sonya, huh?” you tease him. Charlie’s smitteness with your director has not gone unnoticed.You can practically see the hearts forming in his eyes at this moment.

“I doan know what ya tawkin about.”

“Uh-huh, sure.”

“Enough abowut it! Let’s get ya seated and you can tell me who’s ya new friend,” Charlie says, motioning to Chris.

When you’re seated in a corner booth by a rainy window, you introduce the two men.“ This is Chris, my, uh…um…” You hadn’t really thought about what to call your relationship with Chris. It’s been… rocky up until this point, and while you’ve been friendly, you’re certainly not friends. Not yet, at least.

Chris notices and understands your hesitance, a small part of him hoping it’s because you don’t want to friend-zone him. “It’s alright, don’t worry your pretty, little head about it,” he teases you, earning him an eye roll. “We’re… acquaintances, right?”

“Right! Acquaintances… I guess?” It didn’t feel right, a little too impersonal, but you’ll roll with it for now.

“‘Acquaintances’?” Charlie sizes Chris up, a comical sight considering the dramatically different statues of the two men. He tilts his head and squints at Chris’ face, his expression melting from intimidation to inquisition. Chris tenses, knowing the look he’s being given all to well. “Been here before, Chris? You look mighty familiah…”

“Umm… no... I don’t… don’t believe so,” Chris answers almost timidly. The avoidant gaze into the plastic covered menu, the heated cheeks that shone the same color as a tomato— you know that look all too well. You decide to do what you hoped someone would do for you.

“He’s just got one of those faces! But um, I’m ready to order if you are?” you try to deflect. Charlie doesn’t think much of it and takes down your meal decisions, but that small act means the world to Chris. He mouths ‘thank you’ from across the booth, and you smile and tip your head in a slight nod, sure he would’ve done the same for you.

You order your usual, spaghetti with vegan meatballs, and a glass of the house white wine. Chris has what you’re having except he’s ordered a “tonic”, which you learned the hard way the other night is Bostonian for soda. Charlie is back promptly with your drinks and breadsticks and ensures that your food will arrive shortly with a small smirk on his face that you don’t think too much of.

It’s quiet at your table for quite some time. Both you and Chris take small sips from your glasses, nibble at the garlic-y bread, look out the window and around the restaurant. As you do so, you run through a list of conversation starters in your head but you’ve deemed them all too dumb, too boring or too invasive. Why the hell do I care so much? You glance up at Chris and wonder if he’s going through the same irrational inner turmoil you are. Maybe he’s not, or maybe he’s overcome his when he finally breaks the silence.

“So, um… how long have you been a vegan?”

“Um… how long have we been shooting this movie? My character— she’s very, uh… power to the people— and plants,” You chuckle out. “Figured it wouldn’t hurt to give it a try myself. Go a little method,” you say with a shrug.

Chris waves his breadstick at you as he asks, “You believe in all that method stuff?”

“I don’t know… I’m really new to this whole acting thing, but I guess I just like the idea of really connecting with this character in every way I can. She reminds me so much of myself at that age.”

“How so?” Chris presses on.

“She’s… sure. She’s sure of herself… of her judgements and decisions. She’s sure of her hand in her own success. And that breeds this really un-fuck-with-able confidence in her that if I had an ounce of, it’d be over for you hoes,” you end with a slow nod and look off into the distance.

Chris laughs at your dramatics, but it dawns on him what you’ve shared. “Wait… you’re telling me that’s not you now? I mean, I know I’ve only known you a short time, but you seem pretty un-fuck-with-ably confident to me.”

“Ha! Guess I’m a better actress than I thought,” you mutter. Chris knows it’s meant to be a joke, but watching as you fiddled with the rings on your finger, his chest tightened. A look of sympathy must’ve shown on his face, because you start to wish you hadn’t said anything at all. Did I just overshare? God, I thought I outgrew that.

To save you from your minor embarrassment is Charlie with the same smirk from earlier. He gently places the order in the center of your table, and you finally understand what his face was trying to give away earlier.

“We’re, uh… runnin’ low on plates...” is Charlie’s half-baked explanation. “Buon appetito!” he offers before hastily leaving.

Sat between you and Chris was the meal you ordered, yes, but on the single largest plate you think you’ve ever seen. One plate of spaghetti for two people— two practical strangers— to share. The embarrassment just won’t stop, will it?

Elbow perched on the table, your hand acts as a visor of sorts on your forehead as you massage away the headache forming at your temple. You can’t see Chris, just hear him chuckling and breathing out an “oh man…” under his breath. His fork comes into view as he twirls the pasta onto it. You peek under your hand up at him.

“What? Not gonna just look at it!” Chris insists. “Now, let’s see what this vegan meatball is about… DAMN! That tastes legit!” You giggled at his enthusiasm and felt your tension melt away.

You began to dig in as well. It was fine, normal even, for a few moments. You could almost forget you’re sharing one big ass plate of pasta with one of Hollywood’s most sought after stars at a hole-in-the-wall Italian restaurant. Yep, very normal. As long as I keep from oversharing the rest of this afternoon, everything should be fine… you thought to yourself.

“Tell me… how are you liking Boston?” Chris asks.

“It’s fine.”

“‘Fine’?! Just fine.”

“It’s great Chris, no need to get your panties in a twist. But, ya know… It’s just not…”

“Home? Yeah, I get that. Where’s home for you?”

“Um… well I guess home has never been a single place for me. It’s with people I love, as cheesy as that sounds. Home is where my heart is…” you trail off as you remember you shouldn’t share too much.

“And your heart is with family, friends… a boyfriend…?” Chris slips in.

“What is this? 20 questions?” You quip as you sip on your white wine.

“Maybe... if you want. You can ask me something.”

“Hmm… Ok…” You ponder over what to ask him as you twirl your pasta around your fork. “What is… mm no. How about… nah, wait.” Chris huffs impatiently as he awaits your first question. “Ok! I got it!”

“Alright, lay it on me.” Your breath hitches at his word choice and you hope doesn’t notice. Why’d he have to say it like that?! You clear your throat and ask your question.

“What’s your favorite song of mine?”

“Really? That’s your question? So conceited…”

You giggle before explaining, “Well, I only ask ‘cos a little Scottie told me he saw you, and I quote, ‘full on rocking out’ to one of my songs. I’m just curious which one it was.” You sip on your straw and peer up at Chris, watching for his reaction.

Chris groans, covering his face while sinking down the booth seat. You can’t hear too much of what he's saying behind his hands and over your laughter, but it sounds like he’s cursing Scott’s name. When he finally restores some gumption, he places his hands on his napkin, eyes fixated on his fingertips picking at the dampened corners. Teeth sunk into your bottom lip, you try your best to bite back your amusement to not further Chris’s obvious embarrassment.

“Ok…” Chris sighs out, “ I’ll admit it! I’m man enough to own up to it,” he shrugs. “Yes, I was ‘full on rocking out’ to your music. You’re amazing at what you do.”

Your face heats up, not expecting the compliment. You don’t know what to say. It’s not like you’ve never heard it before. In fact you’ve heard it a lot the past couple of years, you’d thought you’d become numb to it. Yet, for some reason, sitting across from Chris, his eyes looking tenderly into yours, the compliment you’ve heard a million times before just… hits different. “Thank you.”

“Of course.”

You clear your throat and break eye contact with Chris. “You still haven’t answered my question, though...”

“Right! Hold on…” Chris says as he fishes his phone from his front pocket. He scrolls through his music app to find the playlist he’s made of his favorite songs of yours. Your cheeks burn even more intensely as you watch. “‘Gemini Feed’ is my favorite to dance to; hands down! But I also really love ‘Drew Barrymore’; it’s fun… but sad, ya know? What am I saying; of course you know; it’s your song!”

You giggle in somewhat disbelief of watching Chris motherfucking Evans geek out over your songs!

“Well… this is a rare opportunity I have, to talk to the artist herself, that is. So, I have to ask, how did that song come about? From personal experience, I suppose?”

“Yeah… um, gosh. You want the full or abridged version of the story?”

“Full! Are you kidding me?!”

“Ok, ok! Well, it was right before my album was set to come out, and my boyfriend-at-the-time dumped me,” you laugh lightly at the now-funny memory. “After weeks of heated arguments and projecting his career insecurities on to me, he picked his final fight with me about how I was “acting too famous for him” and just ended things.”

“Damn.”

“Yeah... It completely caught me off guard. I couldn’t think straight in the studio that day, so I ended the session earlier and went to a party, per my best friend-slash-manager’s coercion. She’s a bad influence.”

“I like her style! Did the party help?” Chris asked.

“Well, it was on the higher-end of house parties, and I just wasn’t used to being around such an expensive lifestyle yet. But guess who was there because why wouldn’t he be?,” you exhale and roll your eyes as you reminisce.

Chris leaned in with intrigue. “The Ex?”

“Mm-hm. In my standard walk-in-the-party-scan of the room, I spot him. I should've known because that party was very much his scene, but what I wouldn't have guessed is that he'd be there with some other woman.”

“What?!”

You nod your head as you proceed to spill the tea to Chris. “This dude is there with another woman, after being out of a relationship for all of 8 hours. I think the worst part is that she looked nothing like me. Like, imagine the complete opposite of me to the hottest power, that was who was hanging all over that idiot.”

“He is a total idiot for letting you go.” You don’t know what to say to Chris’ statement and quite honestly forgot where you were, what you were talking about… “What happened next?”

“Right! We locked eyes for a moment and there wasn’t anything from him. No emotion at all. Like, he didn’t care that our relationship just ended. But then I had the thought that maybe we’d been over for a while and I had just been too distracted to realize and accept the party was over.”

“Jimi peeped what was up and got me out of there. I hoped that we could go home so that I could cry on her shoulder all night. Instead, she dragged me to a real house party. I so badly wanted to pity myself, but the energy there was too infectious to not enjoy; it felt like a 90s movie!”

“The next day, I went through my crazy ass camera roll, and I couldn’t help but... smile… and laugh! Then I thought about him, and how stupid he made me feel, and I don’t know… I kinda put all these weird, conflicting emotions into this one song, and felt better afterwards. Like I was turning a page.”

Chris didn’t immediately say anything, taking in the very personal story you shared. The somewhat unfortunate event that fueled his favorite lyrics. He looked at you carefully and quietly. However kind he looked in this moment, it didn't matter much to the creeping thoughts in your mind.

The silence made you self-conscious. You took inventory of your physical, how your face was hot, how your chest felt tight. Your left hand had somehow migrated into Chris’ right hand in the middle of the table. “I, uh— my bad…” you start as you take back your hand.

Chris quickly grabs your hand before it gets too far. “Thank you for sharing that story with me... and your music with the world. Your confidence in your vulnerability is really fucking inspiring. Thank you. Seriously, thank you,” he gives your hand a gentle squeeze for emphasis. He’s looking at you with a boyish smile and tilted head that makes you break down and smile at him, too.

“Thank you,” you return, just barely above a whisper.

——————————————————————————

You and Chris spent the rest of your time at L'amore Della Madre exchanging stories of love lost and life wins, sharing loud laughs and silent signs of admiration. To anyone on the outside looking in, it may have seemed like two had known each other longer than you actually have.

“I gotta say, I don’t like this,” Charlie whispers to you. He pulled you aside for a moment to say your goodbyes, while Chris waited for you outside. “Mostly becahse it was supposed to be my jahb to set you up with a nice Italian boy, but you’ve brought your own,” he says with a smirk.

“Oh, no! It’s not like that! Chris and I aren’t— wait… how’d you know he’s part Italian?“

“I have my sources… which may be the wait staff who are big fans of the guy. Here this is from them,” Charlie hands you a to-go box.”It’s tiramisu… for two,” he winks.

“Oh my god! I told you, we--”

“Will thank me at your wedding!” Charlie says as he waves you out of the door to the sidewalk where Chris is waiting.

“Wedding? Who’s getting married?” Chris asks.

You let out a sigh and shake your head. “Nobody. Want dessert?”

You and Chris small talk and walk and eat tiramisu on your way to the car. It was nice. It was normal. It felt… real. You didn’t realize how much you needed and missed small, yet meaningful moments like this until right now.

The pair of you stop in front of a pet shop window and watch the puppies play together for a moment. You pointed out a pair of snuggled up puppies to Chris. “Hey, they kinda look like us!”

Chris chuckles when he looks, “They do!” A chocolate brown puppy and a tannish-white one lie peacefully in one another’s presence without a care for the world on the other side of the glass. The tannish-white one starts to lick and nudge at the chocolate brown one, eliciting what you made out to be a sleepy smile from the brown pup. You don’t know why, but witnessing such intimacy causes you and Chris to straighten, fidgeting and giggling nervously.

“I had fun today.”

“As did I. You’re better company than I thought you’d be,” you joke.

“Uh… thanks?” He answers reluctantly, causing you to giggle. “Maybe we could… hang out again sometime…?”

“Maybe we could.”

“Cool.”

“Cool.” There’s a beat of silence as you and Chris hold each other’s gaze. “So… you wanna take my number down?” you prompt him.

“Right! Right. Yeah, I should probably do that…” Chris stammers as he pulls out his phone. You take it from him, replacing it with your phone. You put in your number along with taking a silly picture for your contact, and he does the same.

Chris laughs at your shared child-like humor, and you revel in the moment. It was nice. It was normal. It was the first time you’d felt unmistakably connected with someone without feeling anxious of their motives or what the world thought of it in a very long time.

Time moved slowly when you were with Chris, it seemed to good to real life. But just like that, a flash snaps you and Chris out of your daze and back to reality.

You both look in the direction of the camera flash to find a young woman trying to pretend she didn’t just take a picture of the two of you. Chris turns back to you but doesn’t meet your eyes. Instead his head is hung low as he says “I really… hate that shit.”

“Preaching to the choir.” Chris looks up to your face, your gaze steady in the general direction of the perpetrator. “Makes me feel like an animal in a cage.” You say.

This is why Chris doesn’t mind celebrity companionship. You get it. You understand this strange aspect of his life that not many other people truly do. You also get the value of normalcy and privacy… and leaving when the party’s over.

“Let’s get out of here.” You say coldly and walk in the direction of the car.

Chris was baffled, to say the least. This was usually the part where you talk about how “fans” will cross invisible boundaries just because they know your face and name. However, you seemed uninterested in trauma bonding.

You were already buckled in when Chris caught up to you in the car. The energy the entire drive to your sister’s brownstone was… off. Nothing like it was earlier in the day. A simple flash changed your mood, and Chris was aching for it to go back to before. But no joke, or crank of the radio volume seemed to work.

When Chris pulls up to the curb, you immediately hop out, mumbling a final thank you to him.

“Hey,” Chris grabs your wrist gently, halting you, “You get kinda used to it. Ya know... after a while,” he says hoping you’d find comfort in his words.

You look down at where his hand was wrapped around your wrist. “Yeah… that’s what I'm afraid of... but thanks anyway.” Taking back your wrist from Chris, you turn to walk to the front door.

Chris is calling after you. He doesn't want to be emotionally intrusive, but he hopes you'll give him a chance to understand you. Help you. Comfort you. If only she'd turn around. You can't bear to look back at Chris. It will only remind you of everything good today, and why you can't have it.

Part 8 coming soon! What’d you think?

#chris evans fanfiction #chris evans imagine #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x reader #chris evans x y/n #chris evans fluff #chris evans x black reader #chris evans x you #chris evans one shot #slow burn series

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companionjones · 3 years

Text

Santa Claus Is Going To High School With Ethan and Y/n

Fandoms: StarKid, Black Friday, Santa Claus Is Going To High School

Pairings: Ethan Green x Reader, Chris Kringle x Reader

Summary: In the beginning, you were just a loner in high school who had a huge crush on one Ethan Green. You’re a big fan of escapism, and a certain kids movie brings you lots of serotonin. The teenage version of Santa Claus is more attractive than one might think. What happens when you and Ethan get sucked into the kids movie you’ve grown to love, and Chris Kringle starts vying for your attention? Will Ethan actually get jealous?

Warnings: This is long, cursing, speaking of cursed, I AM SO SORRY I MADE THIS

*******

Ethan Green would have rather been at home, smoking weed. Instead, he was at Lakeside Mall with some kid he was babysitting. He took the job because he needed the money for his jalopy that was in the shop. He didn’t mind the kid all that much. The boy, a nine-year-old named Tim, was nice enough. The only problem was that Tim wanted to see a very annoying-looking kids movie in theaters called Santa Claus Is Going To High School.

“Thirty bucks for two tickets? Are you kiddin’?” Ethan griped as he stood outside of the Cineplex. “Fine. But I want a refund if the kid doesn’t like the movie.”

The half-asleep cashier responded detachedly, “We don’t do refunds here, sir.”

Ethan groaned, “Yeah, whatever,” and pulled the kid inside.

In Theater 4, the previews were still playing. All the seats were empty save for one. Ethan recognized the girl in it. He knew her from the hallways at school. It was you.

Silently, you were thankful no one else was in the theater with you. That way, you couldn’t be judged as a teenager seeing a kids movie...for the fifth time. Yes, you were kind of obsessed with Santa Claus Is Going To High School. So what? That was your business, no one else’s. Or, at least, it was until--

“What the hell are you doing, seeing this movie alone?” Ethan Green, the last person in Hatchetfield you wanted to sit next to you in that moment, decided to take a seat.

At a loss for words, you were trying too hard to think of something to say. “Ethan! I...Um...I--”

He chucked, “Relax. I’m not gonna make fun of you or anything. Just because something isn’t my style, that doesn’t mean you can’t like it.”

Completely in shock that someone your age wasn’t going to judge you, you just gaped at him.

Ethan didn’t notice. “Plus, it kinda rocks that you’re here. I thought I was gonna have to watch this movie with just Tiny Tim here. But it doesn’t seem so bad now with you at my side.”

You cursed yourself for giggling. It was always like that with Ethan. You two would get paired together on a school project or something, and he would casually flirt with you like it was nothing. You would fall for it, you two would get really close, then the project would be turned in. After that, whenever you would go up to Ethan in the halls, it would be like the two of you had never spoken before. You hated it, especially after you developed a huge crush on him.

And it was all starting again.

When the movie began, you watched out the corner of your eye as Ethan fought to stay awake. He lasted ten minutes into the movie. Honestly, you were exhausted, too. You were just getting out of a double shift of waiting on tables. You thought you could get through the movie before crashing at home. You fell asleep not three seconds after the leather-clad boy.

Ethan was woken up by a school bell ringing. He found himself sitting in a desk. Disoriented, he looked to his right to find you staring at him in alarm.

“What the hell...” Ethan was able to mumble before the teacher called out to him and you to not be late for your next classes.

He and you stumbled out into the hallway.

Once out there, you whispered to Ethan in distress, “We’re in the movie. We’re in the fucking movie!”

“No. Fuck. No,” Ethan adamantly disagreed, “We’re dreaming. This is impossible. This can’t be real--” Ethan immediately went to help you up when you ran into one of the other students.

The boy you ran into beat Ethan to it, however.

“Oh my god...” you voiced, completely in shock, as the stranger helped you to your feet.

Right in front of you, holding your hand was the reason you came back to watch the kids movie over and over again. There was your #1 comfort character, your biggest crush since Ethan.

He smiled warmly at you. “Hi there. Sorry about bumping into you...Say, you must be new here. What’s your name? I’m Chris Kringle.”

“I know,” you blurted. Upon seeing Chris’ slight confusion, you backtracked, “I mean...You’re all people talk about around here. You must be the most popular kid in school, and you’re almost as new as I am.”

Chris responded charmingly, “Well, that just means that you have a chance at becoming just as popular as I am, and probably even more so because you seem like you’re at the top of the nice list.”

You felt your moth fall open and cheeks heat up from the flattery.

Ethan cleared his throat in an attempt to get Chris’ attention off of you. He didn’t particularly like that Chris Kringle thought it was appropriate to be that friendly with you upon only just meeting you. Chris was also yet to let go of your hand.

He didn’t let go when Ethan got his attention, either.

Ethan had also gotten your attention. “Um, I’m Y/n, and this is my friend, Ethan. This is our, uh, first day.”

“Oh, well you two probably need some friends around here, huh? You’re both welcome to come sledding with us. We’re heading off now,” Chris cheerfully invited.

Ethan answered, “Uh, we actually have something--”

“We’d love to!” you interrupted.

Chris beamed, “Great! Let’s go! Oh, and don’t worry, people always bring extra sleds.”

“What the hell are you thinking, Y/n?” chastised Ethan. “If this isn’t a dream, which I don’t think it is anymore, ‘cause you seem pretty self aware to me, then we gotta figure a way outta here!”

“I don’t think we can get out of this until the plot of the movie plays out to the end, which is this Friday at the championship game against South Heights. I think all we can do is wait it out.”

Ethan blanched, “Friday?! But I left Tim alone in that theater!”

“Haven’t you ever seen a movie like this?” you questioned, “Jumanji? Teen Beach Movie? I’m almost positive no time will have passed once we get out of this.”

“So what? You just want to go sledding with Chris Kringle until the game on Friday?” Ethan questioned.

Lamely, you answered, “...Yes.”

Ethan was rendered defeated by your hopeful eyes. He huffed out, “Fine.”

Happiness overtook your face. “Thank you!” you celebrated.

Ethan avoided your gaze due to how adorable he thought that was. Then, a new idea caused him to smirk, “Wait, how do you know how the movie’s going to play out?”

“I...might’ve seen the movie more than once,” you explained. It was your turn to avoid your friend’s gaze. “...Four times, not including this one.”

Ethan’s eyebrows shot up, “Four times?! Why the hell do you like this movie that much?” Just then, he followed your gaze to Chris Kringle. It clicked in his head. “Oh...”

Your gaze dropped to the ground. You bit your lip, embarrassed.

Both you and Ethan followed Chis to a large hill where a bunch of students had gathered to go sledding. You were able to borrow two extra sleds from a couple of students. After the first few trips down the hell, you and Ethan finally got used to the fact that the two of you were sledding in a Christmas movie with Santa Claus. Or maybe, you two had finally given into the insanity.

You were standing at the top of the hill, waiting your turn with Chris when he asked you, “So, what’s the deal with you and Ethan?”

“Me and Ethan?” You were shocked that someone besides yourself could see you and the Green boy like that. “Oh, no. We’re just friends.”

Chris wondered, “Is there a chance at something more?”

“Definitely not. Sorry. I guess I fucked up my Christmas wish, huh Santa?” Fuck. You did not mean to say that.

Kringle panicked, “Wait, you know I’m Santa?!”

“I, uh--Yes. I do, but you didn’t tell me, so Father Christmas’ spell is still intact. Tell Jingle and Jangle that before they freak out.”

“YOU CAN SEE MY ELVES TOO?!”

“NO! No, I can’t!” you assured, trying not to stress out Chris anymore.

He furrowed his brow, still breathing heavy. “Then, how’d you know I’m...”

“I...just got that vibe from you?” you lied, cringing because you couldn’t think of a better explanation than that.

Somehow, Chris bought that, but he still had another question. “Then, how’d you know about Jingle and Jangle?”

“Well, I see you talking to them all the time.” That actually wasn’t that much of a lie. Chris was pretty bad at talking his elves on the downlow all throughout the movie.

Chris bit his lip. “Oh. Um, you won’t tell anyone about my secret, will you?”

He had stepped closer, and your heart had sped up in response. You gazed into his eyes, a smile tugging at your lips. “Of course I won’t, Chris.”

“Are you two going to actually sled, or just stand up here talking?” Ethan asked as he approached you and Chris.

Chris, oblivious to the pissed off look on Ethan’s face, laughed and answered, “Sled.” He hopped on his sled and flew down the hill.

“What the hell was that for?” You angrily questioned Ethan.

He played dumb. “What are you talking about?”

“Interrupting us like that? We were...in the middle of something, Ethan.” You were glad you stopped yourself from saying ‘We were having a moment.’ That would’ve been embarrassing.

Green argued, “Didn’t you say the plot of the movie’s supposed to play out?”

“Yeah. So what?”

He wondered, “Doesn’t Chris have a love interest somewhere?”

“Her name is Noelle,” you answered.

Ethan sighed, “Of course it is...Y/n,” he got your attention again. “Are you sure you want to get in the way of that?”

Your mouth slammed shut and your jaw clenched.

Chris got you to turn to him by shouting your name from the bottom of the hill. He motioned you to join him.

Glancing between him and Ethan, you chose to ignore the latter for the moment. You sledded down the hill.

You successfully steered clear of the leather-clad boy for the rest of the time you spent sledding.

That annoyed Ethan, but he knew you couldn’t avoid him forever.

When everybody headed back home late that night, you and Ethan didn’t have a home to return to. The two of you decided to head back to Northville High. You and Ethan got lucky. The window to the staff lounge was open. The two of you slid in, and the school was yours.

“Okay, so we have to find a place that we can sleep in where nobody will accidentally find us tomorrow...” you thought out loud.

Ethan was still hung up on your conversation earlier. “Are we not going to talk about--”

“Can we just worry about where we’re sleeping tonight?” you urged.

Ethan sighed, knowing that talking about it was also something you couldn’t avoid forever.

Eventually, you and Ethan found the boiler room. Ethan agreed with you that it was secluded enough that no one would catch you. The two of you got lucky again when you found that there were enough sweaters and blankets in lost-and-found for makeshift beds.

At one point, you asked Ethan, “You cold?”

He was shivering. Ethan was probably the least prepared clothing-wise to spend hours sledding on a hill. He was feeling the effects of that then. Not that he’d ever tell you. “N-no. I’m g-g-g-good.”

“Yeah, right.” You rolled your eyes before waling over to the boiler and turning it on.

Ethan’s cheeks tinged in pink. “T-thanks.”

“No problem, Ethan.” You approached your bed again and covered yourself in blankets. “You know, you’ve always had issues with asking for help.”

“How the hell do you know that?” Ethan didn’t mean for that to sound as mean as it did.

That didn’t seem to affect you though. “The school projects we worked on together,” you explained, “I always had to find all these covert ways to help you out ‘cause you wouldn’t let me do it directly.” A faint smile was playing at your lips, like you were remembering those things fondly.

Ethan never noticed how much you’d helped him. He didn’t like to admit it, but he had a really tough time in school. As he thought about it, however, Ethan realized that when he did projects with you, the material he was learning didn’t seem as difficult as it normally was. You made things easier for Ethan to understand. That was really nice of you, he thought. He felt bad for never thanking you before for all you did. “...Thanks for turning on the boiler...” Ethan tried. He figured it was a start.

“Any time, Green,” you smiled before turning away from him and settling into bed.

The next morning, you and Ethan snuck into the halls when school started. Chris quickly found the both of you. He’d brought you both pumpkin spice hot chocolate.

“Oh, wow,” you commented when Chris handed you the beverage. You were truly surprised and flattered. “Thank you so much, Chris! This is so nice!”

He brushed it off. “It’s really no problem. I got them from the cafeteria. We’ve got pumpkin spice for days here at Northville High.”

You actually giggled at that. Then, you promptly got lost in Chris’ eyes again. You would’ve been embarrassed if you were even paying attention.

Well, apparently Ethan was. He scoffed, causing you to look at him, and he grumbled, “I guess I should leave you two to it. I...gotta get to class.” He practically stomped off.

Your eyes followed Ethan as he went. You wondered what in the world was wrong with him.

Chris got your notice again when he asked, “So, what’s your first period class? I’ll walk you to it.”

“Um...what’s your first period class?” you asked quickly.

He shrugged, “Statistics--”

“No way! Me too!” you lied. “Let’s go,” you suggested before he could become suspicious.

“So tonight, everyone figured we’d go ice skating. You wanna join us?” he offered, “Ethan can come too if he’d like.”

“Uh...thanks! We’d love to go,” you smiled, cursing yourself in the back of your head for speaking for Ethan again. You bit your lip, knowing what you had to ask. You weren’t exactly looking forward to knowing the answer. “Is Noelle going to be there?”

He furrowed his brow. “You know Noelle?”

“Um, yeah,” you lied, “I’ve seen her...in the halls.”

He believed it. “Oh.”

“She’s um...pretty. Isn’t she?” You hated that you were talking up someone else to your crush, but you also knew that Chris was destined to end up with her.

Chris’ eyes widened in slight realization. “Oh. I didn’t know you swung that way. Do you...like guys?”

Huh. Santa’s an ally.

“Um...” Shyly, you nodded. You felt your cheeks thinking about the implications of his question.

He just smiled. “Good!”

You spent the whole day following Chris to his classes. It was a dream. Chris kept freezing your desk with his powers and doodling little snowflakes and Christmas trees on it. It reminded you of Jack Frost in Rise of the Guardians. It was really cute too. The teacher had to tell you to quiet down several times because you were giggling too much.

At the end of the school day, you ran into Ethan again.

He’d spent the day mostly in the boiler room. He figured that he was spending enough time in regular school. He wasn’t about to spend more time in a fictional one.

When he saw you again, and you awkwardly brought up that you had signed both you and him up to go ice skating, he said, “Whatever,” which meant he’d go. The main reason he agreed was because he preferred anything over the blank cement walls of the boiler room.

He just didn’t consider one thing.

“Ethan, do you know how to skate?” you wondered, skating over to the boy hugging the wall.

“Psh, of course I do,” he lied shakily, tightening his grip on the solid, non-slippery surface. “I just, uh...like it better over here.”

You laughed. “Come here.” You took his hand.

Ethan panicked. “Whoa, whoa. What’re you doing?”

“Relax. I’m not gonna let go of you,” you assured. “Just one foot after the other, like this.”

Slowly, you started leading him around the rink.

For a little while, Ethan felt like he was actually getting it. One bad step though, and he started to freak out again. “Whoa, whoa!” he shouted.

“It’s alright, it’s alright!” you tried to say, but it was too late. You stayed true to your word, though. You didn’t let go of Ethan. You went down with him.

He was mostly scared of the act of falling down, so after that part was over, he was mostly concerned with the pain in his backside.

Ethan looked over to you to complain that you had let him fall, but he found you losing yourself in laughter. He forgot what he was going to say. Watching you, Ethan felt his heart speed up and a smile growing on his lips. Soon, both of you were laughing your asses off.

Eventually, you and Ethan had gotten your shit together enough to stand up. The two of you went over to customer services at the rink to get ice packs for your fresh bruises.

“Sorry, I guess I should’ve told you that I...uh...” Ethan trailed off.

You finished for him, “You’ve never been ice skating before in your life?”

“Yeah...” Ethan smiled because you started laughing again.

“It’s fine,” you shrugged off. “I guess I should’ve asked you if you knew how to skate before volunteering you for something against your will...again.”

Ethan was about to say he didn’t mind. He was about to say that the past couple days with you had been the most fun he’d had in a long time.

But then, Chris approached the two of you. “There you guys are! I’ve been looking all over for you! Y/n, I was wondering if you’d like to skate, um...with me for a bit.”

“Oh! Um...”

There it was. Chris was going to come along, yet again, and sweep you off your feet. You were going to say yes to Santa Creep, and Ethan would be left alone for the rest of the--

“Ethan and I are actually gonna head back home,” you replied to Chris, interrupting Ethan’s thoughts. “We’ve been skating for a while, and we’re both pretty tired. I’ll see you tomorrow though, okay?”

Chris seemed a little disappointed by your words. Ethan tried not to become too happy from the look on Kringle’s face.

“Oh...okay,” Chris replied, “I’ll see you tomorrow...”

Back in the boiler room, Ethan was still stuck on what had occurred at the ice skating rink. “You know...you didn’t have to come back with me...”

“Hmm?” You turned to Ethan and furrowed your brow.

He went on, “You didn’t have to come back with me ‘cause I don’t know how to skate. I coulda come back by myself. You could’ve kept having fun at the rink...with Chris.” Ethan had to physically push those last two words out.

“Nah, I didn’t really feel like it,” you answered with a shrug. “I’m probably not going to be skating for a while with these new bruises you gave me,” you teased, but your voice grew softer. “Plus, I wanted to spend more time with you.”

Ethan’s heart stopped. He looked away from you in an attempt to hide the growing blush on his cheeks.

“Goodnight, Ethan,” you bid before turning over in your makeshift bed, and laying down to rest.

Ethan’s last thoughts as he fell asleep that night was how the four concrete walls of the boiler room didn’t seem that lifeless with you there.

The following day was Friday. For the students of Northville High, it was the last day ‘til Winter Break, and the championship basketball game was that night. For you and Ethan, it was the last day of the movie. Santa Claus Is Going To High School was supposed to end after the big game against South Heights.

You and Ethan ran into Chris in the cafeteria during breakfast. He had more pumpkin spice hot chocolate for the both of you. “Hey guys! I forgot to tell you last night, but since it’s the last day of school, there’s caroling in the halls today. Students who join don’t have to go to classes. Do you guys wanna carol with me?”

To prevent yourself from immediately responding “Yes!” you bit your lip. You looked to Ethan. You didn’t want to speak for him again.

He glanced to you, and it looked like he was about to reject the offer, but then he thought about it for a second. “You said it gets us out of classes?” Ethan asked.

Chris nodded.

Ethan sighed, “Yeah...okay.”

A smile broke out across your face. You couldn’t help but hug Ethan. “This is going to be so fun!” You felt Ethan’s body stiffen, and to it to mean that he thought it was weird that you were hugging him. You quickly separated from him.

You dismissed the pink painting his cheeks as you seeing things.

The actual singing part of caroling was pretty boring. The group of students you were with would just stop at random places in the hallway for a song or two. People in nearby classrooms would come out to watch you guys and get a little time off from class.

What made caroling so much fun though were Chris and Ethan. Between stops, the three of you would mess around in an effort to make each other laugh. Well, while you were trying to make both Ethan and Chris laugh, it had turned into a bit of competition between the two of them to get you to laugh. Personally, you didn’t notice any malice between the two of them, but you were too busy laughing to notice much anyway.

Throughout the day, everyone held their own books that had in them all the carols everyone was singing. Chris stole your book, and you had to go through the whole song and dance (no pun intended) of trying to get it back. Chris easily dodged you every time you went for the book.

At one point, you tripped over your feet while going for your book. Chris caught you before you fell, and for a second he just gazed at you with wide eyes. Then, something insane happened.

Chris Kringle kissed you. The boy, the fictional character you’d had a crush on since his movie came out, liked you enough to actually kiss you. You were frozen to your spot.

Kringle must’ve taken that as a negative reaction. He parted from you.

“Y/n...”

You heard a shocked voice behind you before you could say a word to Chris. You turned around and saw Ethan’s highly concerned face.

Suddenly, the bell rang. It was signaling the end of the school day. The sound made you jump.

“...I...I have to go, Y/n,” Chris told you. “Coach said he wants us in the gym as soon as the bell rings.”

You were reminded of the championship basketball game. “Right. Go,” you encouraged.

“Come to the game later. We can talk there,” he offered.

“Okay,” you nodded.

Chris left. You and Ethan were suddenly alone in the hallway.

Ethan stated, “I can’t believe he just kissed you.”

“I can’t believe he just kissed me either.” You exhaled for probably the first time since Chris’ lips were on yours. You couldn’t stop a small smile from forming.

“You don’t want to kiss him again, do you?”

The question made your smile vanish. You avoided Ethan’s gaze.

“Y/n, you can’t want any of that. None of this is even real!”

Your face started burning from embarrassment and anger, but you fought back anyway. “So what?” you shouted. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve been waiting for something like this to happen?”

Ethan clearly hadn’t expected your voice to raise as well.

“Dammit, Ethan,” you really didn’t care anymore, “I’ve liked you for such a long time, but you never noticed me! The only reason you sat next to me in the theater was because I was the only person there. You had no other option. But Chris, he had all the options! And he chose me! Do you have any idea how that feels?”

You had shocked Ethan into silence.

“Look, I’m going to the gym to watch Chris practice. Come, don’t come, I don’t care.” It was true. You didn’t care. At that point, you didn’t care that the movie was supposed to play out a certain way. You left Ethan alone in the hallway and headed toward the gymnasium.

It took Ethan about a minute to even move. So many thoughts were running though his head. He was right to be mad at you, right? The movie had to end a certain way, or else you and him ran the chance of never going home. But then, there was the revelation that you had just unloaded on Ethan. You liked him? Like, liked him, liked him? The more he thought about it, the more obvious your crush became to him, and worse he felt about how he treated you in the past.

Ethan also started to realize that, maybe he liked you like that, too. Maybe he wasn’t just worried about the movie’s plot. Maybe he was so concerned about Chris’ behavior around you because he was jealous.

And that brought Ethan back to how he had acted around you in the past. Had he really been so bad? Yes. He’d been so concerned about his bad boy image that he pushed you aside whenever the two of you were around other students. He couldn’t imagine doing that after all you two had gone through in that movie. Ethan didn’t want to be away from you at all anymore, and that included right in that moment as well.

Ethan knew he was going to have to admit a lot of things to you to get a chance at getting you back. He only hoped it wasn’t too late. He glanced up at a clock in the hallway and realized he only had ten minutes ‘til the game started.

Meanwhile, you were looking at the same time on a clock in a hallway outside the gym.

“Y/n.” Chris came jogging up to you. “Thank you so much for meeting me here.”

“Uh...Hey, Chris,” you swallowed, dread filling you. You’d had some time to think since your argument with Ethan. You were still very angry with the leather-clad boy, and you still cared about Chris a lot, but Ethan was right about one thing. The movie needed to play out a certain way. You had no choice but to get out of the way of that.

Chris noticed your unease. “Are you alright, Y/n?”

You took a deep breath, preparing to let Chris down easy. “Um, we need to talk, Chris--”

“Wait,” he interrupted you, “I know what you’re going to say. Y/n, I’m sorry I kissed you. It was pretty naughty of me to get in the way of the movie.”

You blinked. Completely disregarding that ‘naughty’ line, you asked, “How’d you know that?”

At that, he just smiled, “I’m Santa Claus, remember? It’s also how I know it was your Christmas wish to start dating Ethan.”

“Wait, you’ve known this whole time that we’re in a movie? Why didn’t you tell me?”

He chuckled, seemingly embarrassed. “I was trying not to mess up the plot. Stay in character, you know? I guess I really fucked that up, kissing you.”

“Wow, I never thought I’d hear Chris Kringle curse,” you laughed.

“You just came out of no where, Y/n. Quite literally. I had no idea I’d...like you this much when I brought you here.”

Eyes nearly popping out of your head, you almost yelled, “You brought us here?!”

There was an echo. It was Ethan, who had just arrived on the scene. “Why the hell would you do that?” he frantically asked.

Chris just smirked, “You two will find out soon enough.”

The buzzer in the gym sounded, signaling the game was going to start soon.

Chris turned to you. “Y/n, I want you to hang onto my jacket for me.” He handed you his letterman. “Don’t worry about the plot of the movie, I’ll take care of it. I’m...really going to miss you, Y/n. Ethan, you got very lucky with this gift. Be very nice to them.”

He kissed you on the cheek and ran off before you could say something in return. You absentmindedly put on Chris’ letterman and turned to Ethan. Your plan was to try and explain away Chris’ leading last words to Ethan, but before you could:

“I really like you, Y/n,” Ethan blurted.

Your words got caught in your throat.

Ethan quickly continued, “I’ve only really noticed how I feel in the past couple days in this movie, but I’d be lying if I said I haven’t liked you for a long time. I’m sorry for acting like such an asshole. I really don’t know how you continued to be nice to me after all that...”

He continued to ramble on, but some twinkling above your head caught your eye. You smiled when you looked up and saw it. “Hey, Ethan?”

Your voice immediately shut him up as he gazed at you.

“Look up,” you quietly prompted.

Hanging above the two of you was a beautiful little mistletoe.

“I...uh...” Ethan swallowed. “Does this mean you’ll forgive me?”

You smirked, “Well, I guess that depends on whether or not you’re a good kisser.”

Ethan’s face broke out in a grin as well. He hooked an arm around your waist and pulled you close enough where your heads barely had to move at all to kiss.

You were woken up in the movie theater by the kid Ethan was babysitting—Tim, as Ethan had called him—cheering because Chris Kringle had successfully used the ‘Santa Swap’ to win the championship game against South Heights. At least, you thought Ethan had called him Tim. Did Ethan only say that while you and him were trapped in the movie? Was any of that real at all?

Dread filled you when you started to think that Ethan had never actually kissed you, it had been a dream. That dread doubled when you realized that you had fallen asleep on Ethan’s shoulder.

You slowly started to raise your head because you had a feeling that Ethan had fallen asleep too, and you thought maybe you could save yourself some embarrassment.

However, as soon as he could, and at the same time Chris kissed Noelle in the movie, Ethan kissed you too. “I just had the most amazing dream,” he whispered to you once you parted.

Several thoughts raced through your head. Was it a dream? Is it possible for two people to have the same dream? Yet, you quickly realized that it didn’t matter because Ethan had just kissed you. He liked you! You finally got your Christmas wish.

As you and Ethan walked out of the theater hand-in-hand, Ethan asked Tim, “So, nothing seemed weird about that movie, kid?”

Tim shrugged it off. “Nope.”

“Huh,” Ethan turned to you, you guessed probably to ask you how much you remembered, but Ethan gasped when he saw what you were wearing. “Holy shit.”

Following Ethan’s eyeline, you spotted what had freaked him out so much. “Holy shit,” you repeated.

You were still wearing Chris’ letterman.

*******

Author’s Note: Thank you so much for reading! Fill up that heart and reblog if you liked it! I would also really appreciate a comment, if you have the time. If you would like to read more, I have more fics over on my page. You should check it out. Have a nice day, night, or whatever time it is for you! <3 <3 <3

#starkid #black friday #black friday starkid #santa claus is going to high school #ethan green #ethan green x reader #chris kringle #chris kringle x reader #robert manion #santa claus is going to high school with ethan and y/n #companion jones #i really have to go to the bathroom atm

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boldlyanxious · 4 years

Text

None the Wiser 10

Masterlist

All fic masterlist

I took a bit of a break from this one after doing so much all at once. Also had to decide what way to go. I didn't plan ahead for her to run out so now I'm winging it a bit.

Marinette had left the Eiffel Tower that night with Cassie's number. At first she thought the girl was trying to make a joke when she suggested telling her parents that she had been running around as a magical hero for 2 years. But Cassie gave a well-reasoned argument for why she should reveal herself. Much of it was the ways that it strained their relationship and caused her to need to lie all the time. But beyond that there was the added burden on being the guardian with not only no additional support but having lost heroes as they had been revealed.

Marinette didn't run home and tell her parents right away. She took a few days to mull it over. She knew that the guardian had wanted secrecy above all but she wasn't sure how prudent that was. He had only become a guardian because he made a major mistake as a child that he couldn't fix. His secrecy had only protected him but didn't solve any problems. When faced with the same problem that had never been fixed his solution was to run and hide again while leaving Paris vulnerable. It had been her and Chat Noir who had fixed his mistake even if she had eventually made a mistake that cost him the guardianship. She has solved the issue even if things were still tough.

Perhaps the additional support of her parents would be a good thing. She should probably discuss it with Chat Noir first. She had been avoiding discussing any of it with him or Damian. She sent them both messages that she did not want them to bring it up until she had time to process. Damian took it pretty well but Adrien seemed to keep trying to catch her eye to get her to talk, but then she had known Adrien longer and he also found out about her secret biological family so the situations were quite a bit different. She pulled out her phone to text him.

---

Marinette brought pastries to the park, including a double cheesy bread for Plagg and macarons for Tikki. The box lid was pushed back down over the kwamis so Marinette and Adrien could talk. He offered her fruit infused water before they wandered away from the photo shoot set that he had just left. He used a wipe to remove the makeup and ran his hands through his hair causing it to be adorably fluffy.

Marinette wasn't sure how to start. She avoided Adrien's soft eyes filled with concern and understanding. She picked the flaky bits off her croissant instead and looked up when he waved at some others across the park. She recognized the girls from school but she didn't really know them. Hopefully they wouldn't talk about seeing her in the park with Adrien. She hadn't told Alya because Lila had been nearby and she didn't want to make a big deal of it because Alya had noticed that they were acting a bit weird around each other.

"Do you know them?" Marinette asked.

"We share some classes. Just found out today that I'm partnered with the one in purple for the big history project. Hopefully that will work out okay "

"I was partnered with Nathaniel. It's nice to have someone I already know is reliable. He might be quiet for presenting but I don't know if I could handle the stress of an unreliable project partner."

"Because of all the other stress from things you couldn't or haven't shared?" he asked quietly.

"Um-yeah. Actually that is mostly what I wanted to talk about today. I'm going to tell my parents about everything."

"Isn't it all supposed to all be a secret?"

"According to Tikki, the level of secrecy has depended on the guardian handing out miraculi."

"So you think we should tell people now that you are guardian?"

"But necessarily. Mostly I think that it's important that people don't know. But we aren't adults who control our own lives and schedules. Sometimes we need extra support out allowances."

"I don't think I could tell my father. Even if he would see me, I think he would find a way to prevent me sneaking out if he knew."

"That is probably true. But my parents are the opposite. Having to lie and sneak around behind their back has been harmful to all of us. They have been a lot more worried recently anytime I'm not where they expected."

"Is this because of what Superboy said about you being Robin's sister?"

"I--"

She faltered and looked down instead of continuing. Adrien reached out and picked up her hand saying her name softly.

"Marinette, you don't have to tell me if you don't want to. But sometimes it helps to talk even if it's hard to say."

"No, I think it will help you to know. It's just all been so confusing. Do you remember the man from the hotel?"

"Yeah. From Alya's party."

"I met him that night when I went to change during the party. The next day he wanted to have breakfast with me." She bit her lip before spitting out the next words all at once. "Because he is my biological father."

"You said he made your parents nervous. Did he treat your mom badly and that is why they never told you?"

"Actually, they never knew until then."

"How--"

"My parents had help from a fertility clinic. I didn't know until I took a DNA test after we did blood typing in biology class because mine wasn't right." She looked down again. "They aren't worried that he will hurt me. They are worried that he will take me away."

"Cases like that from donors or whatever are really hard to fight though."

Except he is rich. Like really rich. Bruce Wayne rich."

The words just sat there for a moment as Adrien considered them. She could see him working it out and could tell the exact moment he knew when he looked back at her with shock in his eyes.

"Bruce Wayne is your biological father?" He breathed out hard. "The Bruce Wayne."

"That reaction is a lot of why I've not told many people. I didn't even know who he was until the fashion show. I was so worried about everything else that I never considered asking more about him. He was just Bruce."

He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and squeezed her close for a moment. Marinette leaned against him less nervous than she felt before but still with the weight of talking to her parents.

"I agree you should tell your parents. It will help them to know. It will probably just give them other things to worry about." He smiled down at her. "Lucky for them that we always save the day, My Lady."

She looked up at him with the use of his hero's affectionate nickname for her. He was definitely looking at her how Chat Noir tended to look at Ladybug. She tensed a bit, not sure how to manage his possible feelings now that he knew she was Ladybug and not just Marinette. But he said nothing more. He leaned over and kissed her head gently and told her goodbye with a final squeeze to her shoulders.

---

Her parents just stared at her after she blurted out her secret identity without preamble. They were stunned into silence and waited for her to crack a smile before they reacted. They looked at each other and then both started talking about their feelings about her revelation. If they didn't calm down Marinette predicted she would have a headache soon. She decided it was best to wait it out rather than try defending herself.

As she expected it was mostly disbelief and shock at the dangers she had faced but there was an underlying message of pride. They kept on for a few minutes while Marinette waited for them to get it out of their system. She could tell it was ending when they both held her close and they ceased the onslaught of incredulous concern. They all went quiet for a minute until Marinette asked their thoughts once they had been able to process for a few minutes.

"Did you guys have any questions?"

"Why did you tell us? Actually why didn't you tell us before?" her dad asked.

"Well things have changed recently and it makes it all so much different."

"Your leader. He was trapped by Hawkmoth and named you guardian. What does that mean?" her mom asked.

"It means I'm but responsible for all of the miraculi in Paris. The previous guardian had moved on and had no memory of any of the miraculous or having met me."

"I don't know whether to be more upset that you kept it secret all this time or that we didn't notice." Sabine said.

"I wanted to tell you. I really hate lying."

"We know you do Sweetheart. That's part of what makes this hard to see. We didn't expect it from you," her dad said.

"I always worried that you would find out I'm missing and think something bad had happened. Especially after Bruce showed up. You were so worried at first."

"We are still worried a little. But so far he seems to just want an opportunity to love you." Sabine said. "We can't fault him for that."

Marinette agreed. Although it was a very strange situation, he genuinely seemed to want to be a part of her life without making himself a nuisance. She even thought he might he holding back a desire to buy her everything she ever wanted. He had left town again and she could only hope Damian would keep his silence, but he would be returning as soon as his schedule allowed.

They continued talking about all the ways these two major revelations had affected their lives while they made dinner and ate. It was all a huge weight off Marinette and she was happy it had been suggested. She really did believe that it was the best thing for her and the best way to protect her parents, even if it meant they would have to watch their reactions. Her dad might have been thinking about that because as she was heading up to her room he stopped her one last time.

"Does this mean you are in love with Chat Noir but he rejected you without knowing you were Ladybug?"

Tags

#maribat #bio!dad bruce wayne month 2020 #bio dad bruce #boldlyanxious

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thefanficmonster · 3 years

Text

Stargazing

Ethan Winters x Mia Winters (Resident Evil Biohazard)

Warnings: Swearing

Genre: Romance, Fluff

Summary: A year after the events that took place at the Bakers’ residence and the three years of Mia being missing, the Winters spouses have finally been healed enough to start getting back into a regular lively rhythm, nevertheless haunted by the nightmare they lived through.

Requested by Anon. Hi dear! Sorry you’ve had to wait so long for your request but here it finally is! They deserved so much better and I’ll never stop saying that! Sorry for the brief rant, still, hope you enjoy the read! Love, Vy ❤

Holding Ethan’s hand tightly, Mia follows his instructions to keep her gaze down at the ground and avoid looking up as much as possible. She’s been having a hard time containing the smile on her face, biting her bottom lip a lot to prevent it from showing. Same as she’s had a hard time keeping quiet with her guessing games of where Ethan’s taking her. The man’s unbreakable though, never once was he tempted to let her in on what he’s planned.

It’s been a year since the Baker incident and all the couple has done is switch from one coping mechanism to another. They got stuck in a sort of therapy-work-therapy cycle where they threw themselves in their work and periodically went to their psychiatric appointments, never daring to nudge the topic at home amongst themselves. It was enough that the whole night has remained as a dark cloud hanging over their heads, addressing it has simply been to painful so they’ve steered clear of the topic the best they could.

However, an important thing to note about this coping cycle they created is that it drove all the other mechanics in their lives and their relationship to become routinely and mechanic as well. There was little to no feeling in all they did - not that they ever did much together except have dinner and sometimes breakfast, both of them fully indulged in their work the rest of the day. Work became their therapy eventually, leaving little time for one another and for fixing what’s been broken between them. This conclusion bothered them both to no end but neither wanted to address it out of fear of disturbing the other.

Luckily, Ethan didn’t feel the need to bring it up before taking action.

“Here we are!“ He announces eventually, causing Mia to snap her head upwards without a second to spare, curious eyes doing the best they can to take in the dark surroundings.

Surprisingly enough, she doesn’t have any problem with the dark. What happened back in Louisiana didn’t give her a phobia of the dark or of ships as her therapist initially thought she’d develop. However, she’s got a huge fear of bugs and insects now - especially mosquitos. Count on her husband carrying anti bug spray wherever they go - now is no exception.

As her eyes slowly adjust to the darkness of their surroundings, it doesn’t take her a while to realize they’re in an open yet secluded field. She’s not the slightest bit surprised by where he’s taken her, in fact, she recognizes it immediately. It’s the spot of their first official date.

“Who knew going to that dorm party would be the best thing I’d do in my life.“ He mumbles under his breath, admiring the sparkles in her eyes as she takes in the beautiful field bit by bit, letting the reel of memories play back, taking her all the way back to that first year of college, that fateful night when they met, followed by the night they came to this field.

“Who knew overcoming my fear of heights at an early age would’ve helped me find the man I’d eventually marry.“ She replies, turning to look at him, their gazes locking in place, both of them no reminiscing on those events they hadn’t recalled in a very long time.

2006

The humidity doesn’t suggest that the summer months have already ended. In fact, the air is still as unbreathable as it was in July and August, making the students who have to return to their studies super conflicted, longing for those beach days with little to no responsibilities. Given that no one is ready for the school year to start, the professors included, the first few weeks of college have been rather stress-free for Ethan. Well, that is if you don’t include the agony of moving into college as a freshman from an entirely different state.

Why he chose to go to college in Texas is a question he still doesn’t have a proper answer to. It was an impulsive, basically overnight decision, one that rattled his parents to no end when he announced it. However, having his own income and savings for college purposes, they couldn’t really do much in stopping him but they didn’t support him either. They kept trying to change his mind until the very last day but alas he stood his ground and now here he is, in his college dorm, trying to read a book while there’s a raging party going on just two floors above. The music is so loud though that is sounds more like it’s taking place in his closet instead.

His roommate went up to help set the party up, only putting mild effort into getting his Cali-boy roommate to tag along and join the shenanigans which Ethan appreciated. Parties have never really been his scene so he knew he would’ve kept refusing no matter how much he tried getting him up there.

Finding the read hopeless due to the distractions, Ethan ditches the book and lays back on his bed staring at the ceiling, feeling like a fish out of water, ready to suffocate any minute. The AC in the dorm is faulty so it’s not serving its purpose properly, leaving the air at the same temperature as it would be had the device not been turned on at all. He’s stranded on things to do, feeling awfully caged in this new environment without any proper entertainment, going even as far as to second-guess if his parents were maybe right all along.

Fortunately for him, just then, his roommate bursts in, humming along to the song that’s currently being played at the party, never missing a tune even in his clearly intoxicated state.

“Hey Winters, aren’t you Californians supposed to know of a good time? You’re disappointing me right now.“ Jared slurs, laughing a bit as he leans against the wall to keep himself to his feet.

Ethan can’t help but scoff, “Thought I’d be a party animal? Sorry for the letdown.”

Jared laughs, shaking his head, “Come on, Cali. You have two semesters to be sulking around, it’s too early to start. Listen, one beer and thirty minutes, that’s all I’m asking you for. If you like it you can stick around. If not, feel free to leave. Just please give it a shot. How else are you supposed to make friends?”

Ethan stops to contemplate for a second, weighing his options. Jared takes this as a hopeful sign, seeing as how his offer wasn’t immediately turned down as it was the first time. Finally, the blond sighs in defeat: “Ok, but thirty minutes only.“ He says as he slides off the bed, briefly looking at himself in the mirror and deeming his appearance decent enough for a dorm party. As a very new student, he’d like to make a good first impression on his classmates but given that they’re all probably wasted, he’s not stressing too much over his looks at the moment.

Following Jared up to the floor of the party, he’s immediately handed a beer which he accepts with little hesitation. His roommate goes around introducing him to a few people before he disappears with some girl he claims has been his on-again-off-again girlfriend since sophomore year of high school - Sarah. Ethan, of course, doesn’t stop him despite hating the ide of finding himself stuck alone in a crowd of people he’s seeing for the first time in his life. Still, he sticks to the deal: thirty minutes and a beer...ok, two beers, but they’ve done nothing to make him enjoy this party.

So, off he goes to search for Jared to tell him he’s leaving. Thinking he saw the dark haired girl he went off with going up the stairs to the roof, he quickly follows.

Little does he know, that’s not the dark haired girl he’s looking for. That’s Mia

Mia, the rowdy, outgoing Texas tomboy who, unlike Ethan, thoroughly enjoys going to parties and having a good time with her friends and a few drinks. However, even a party animal such as herself sometimes needs to take a breather especially when people are smoking cigarettes as though they’re inhaling air and she’s never tried a cigarette in her life and is actually quite against the idea. She found this rooftop to be her prefect hideaway whenever she felt like her surroundings would suffocate her. Students were strictly instructed that climbing up there would earn them a penalty but that didn’t bother her in the slightest - She’s been frequenting the roof already and it’s been barely a week of her fresh start in college. Luckily, she got over her fear of heights at the tender age of twelve so this journey to quite a high point doesn’t pose as much stress as it would’ve about a decade ago.

As she lies on the floor, looking up at the starry night sky above, she nearly jumps out of her skin when another voice calls out to her presumably though it’s not using the correct name.

“Hey, um, S-Sarah? Have you seen Jared?“

Mia turns her head as she sits up, one eyebrow raised as she takes a good look at the silhouette which this voice belongs to. It’s pretty dark so even if she knew him, she wouldn’t be able to recognize him but judging by the voice, this is not someone she’s familiar with. And judging by the accent, this guy is not from around here.

“I’m not Sarah, but if you’re looking for Jared Letterwood, I can guarantee he’s in Sarah’s dorm.“ Mia chuckles, “I’d know. Sarah’s my roommate.“

Ethan cringes at the thought, “Yikes, you’ve got it rough. I mean, Jared’s my roommate but so far I haven’t had to leave the dorm for him to...you know. Hope I never have to.” Suddenly, an idea strikes him, “Wait, where are you gonna sleep tonight?”

She laughs, lying back down with her arms folded behind her head, “Right here.” She drags out the words as she adjusts her position a little, eyes fluttering closed. “Stargazing helps me fall asleep. The whole ambience up here is just...perfect, you know. Jared and Sarah are really doing me a favor.”

Ethan can’t help but scoff, “Call me crazy, but I’ve never stargazed in my life. I don’t know, never really saw the whole appeal. Sure, it’s cool to see in a movie or whatever, but it’s got no real purpose in real life. Not that I’m trying to bash your hobby or anything...”

Before the clueless blond could finish his statement, Mia’s already snapped up in a sitting position, giving him a narrow-eyed glare he can’t really see in the darkness. Her hand taps the spot next to her, “Don’t knock until you try it, Cali boy. Come’ere, see what you’re missing out on.”

Though reluctant, Ethan takes a few steps forward, stopping for a second to ask: “Wait, how’d you know I’m Californian?” Regardless of his confusion, he sits his ass down as he was told, awkwardly laying down so that there’s half a foot or less between their bodies so he doesn’t accidentally touch her and run the risk of freaking her out.

“I know a lot of things, Cali. Unfortunately, your name isn’t one of them. That being said, either you tell me it, or I’ll have to keep calling you Cali.“ She says teasingly.

“Ethan. My name’s Ethan.“ He says through a sigh, unable to contain the smile that spreads across his face.

A smile mimicking his appears on her face as well, “Nice to meet you, Ethan. The name’s Mia.“

Needless to say, the following morning Ethan woke up still on the roof, and surprisingly and terrifyingly enough, with the girl he barely met the night prior in his arms. Under the light of the newly rising day he could examine her features better, taking in her absolute beauty, her pale features contrasting her dark as the night hair. She’s still asleep so he can’t see her eyes but he has no doubt they are as beautiful as she is. Everything about her looks so delicate yet sharp simultaneously. And he’s simply in awe.

To avoid any awkwardness in case she wakes up, he falls back asleep, not even trying to remove his arms from around her body, silently hoping she won’t kick his ass for it. The next time he wakes up, an undecided amount of time later, he’s alone on the rooftop. Alone with a note that says: ‘Did you like it? If yes, I got a better stargazing spot to show ya. You know where to find me

~ M‘

“And boy, was I missing out on something.“ Ethan whispers, gently running his fingers through his wife’s hair as they lay in that same field she was referring to in her note to him, gazing up at the stars, limbs intertwined, bodies completely collided.

“Told ya. Stargazing is incredible, ain’t it?“ Mia replies, snuggling closer though that’s simply impossible.

Her husband chuckles, his chest rumbling with the noise, “That’s not really what I meant.”

Her brows furrow but she doesn’t look at him, “Oh? Then what did you mean?”

With a content sigh, he replies, “I was missing out on having you in my arms, falling asleep and waking up by your side.“ He says, his lips planting a gentle kiss at the top of her head that has her melting in his embrace.

Mia’s not the romantic nor cheesy half of this relationship, quite the opposite, but she feels emotions to a way deeper level than Ethan would imagine her feeling. So, thankful to the darkness, Mia allows her eyes to gloss over with emotional tears as she rises up to collide her lips with his in a soft and tender kiss.

“I missed you so much, Mia.“ Ethan whispers when they pull away, foreheads resting against each other.

“I promise to never make you miss me again, baby.“ She replies in a tone as hushed as his. As though they are both afraid someone would overhear this vow of theirs and try to force them to break it.

“That’s impossible.“ He says with a soft chuckle, “I always miss you at least a little.“

Mia hums in response, “Well, right now, you don’t have to miss me at all. I’m all yours. You’re the only thing on my mind, Mr. Winters.“

Even in the dark, she sees the grin that lights up his face, “As you are the only thing on mine, Mrs. Winters.” With that, their lips reestablish their contact, this time maintaining it longer, making it more passionate than before.

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whimperwoods · 3 years

Text

Part 8 of Gozukk and Anna.

In this installment, many names? Family lore abounds. Anna is only mostly the center of attention, which is probably for the best. I am honestly only partially sure this chapter even counts as whump, but I just needed a nice breakfast and some nice new friends and for Anna to get some new Gozukk context before she has to do more scary things like go talk to a doctor.

The masterpost is here and includes a cheat sheet with all the new names/characters.

tw: slavery (past), tw: past rape/noncon (barely referenced), tw: past abuse,

Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!

Tag list: @redwingedwhump, @nine-tailed-whump, @thehurtsandthecomfurts @kixngiggles, @bluebadgerwhump, @dragonheart905, @carolinethedragon, @whumpzone, @newbornwhumperfly, @cupcakes-and-pain, @much-ado-about-whumping

****

Gozukk left a note for the half-elf, pinned to the inside of the tent flap, and let her sleep. He hoped she would wake for breakfast while others were still there for her to meet, but he also knew enough about her wounds, inside and out, to know she needed the sleep if she could get it.

He was talking to Azzor when her head poked tentatively out of the tent flap, glanced uneasily toward him and the others and the fire, and vanished back inside. His heart fell a little, though he couldn’t pretend he hadn’t expected the fear.

Azzor had noticed him watching something, and probably his face falling while he wasn’t thinking about keeping a front up. When he turned his gaze back to his best friend’s face, the general was already rolling his eyes. “Go on, it’s fine. You’ve gotten the key things from my report. I assume you’re staying around camp today?”

Gozukk nodded, looking back over at the tent, and trying to decide how offended he should be that Azzor wasn’t bothering to pretend he couldn’t read him like a book..

“This is that baby hawk all over again,” Azzor said, “Don’t be surprised when you find yourself bleeding even though you’re stronger than her.”

Gozukk’s face slid into a sideways grin. “Which baby hawk?”

“Exactly. It was like you liked having beak-sized gashes all up your arms.”

Something in Azzor’s eyes said he wasn’t upset, just wary, and Goz could live with that. “Anyway,” he answered, “This time, her wings are clipped. You have to acknowledge that’s different.”

“Fear is fear. You can’t expect something that scared and with that many reasons not to trust anther creature to decide you’re the safe thing.”

Gozukk scowled. “She’s not a something. She’s a someone.”

Az sighed. “I know, Gozukk. But elves can be dangerous, too. You know that.”

He did. He did. His face warmed over his cheekbones, and he found he couldn’t meet his best friend’s eyes. “I know, Az. It’s just -”

“You’ve never seen a broken wing you didn’t want to splint.”

Azzor sounded resigned more than he did disappointed, something hiding in his tone that told Gozukk they were still alright. A wave of calm washed through him. It was clear, then. It was clear what he was doing, even if all the rest - wasn’t.

As Gozukk stepped away, toward his tent, Azzor reached out and gripped his forearm. “You know I’m only paranoid because someone has to be, right, Goz?”

Gozukk gripped Azzor’s forearm in return. “And you know it’s why I made you General.”

Azzor squeezed his arm before letting go. “Go on, Mama Bird.”

“Papa Bird.”

“You’re never winning that one.”

Gozukk made a vague, dismissive noise and tried to hold onto the hope of the morning. There was breakfast. People were well-rested. The humans from yesterday were still a problem, but nothing new was looming over today. It was going to be a good day. It was.

Anna was still just inside the tent flap when he opened it, and she immediately flinched away from him, hard, one hand moving instinctively upward as if she might need to protect herself from being hit.

He wanted to reach for her shoulder, but he shouldn’t, and his body stiffened as he resisted the impulse. She took a half-step backward, bobbing her head into a series of quick half-bows. “Oh, umm... I’m sorry Sir - Mr. Gozukk - I’m - I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“It’s alright,” he said softly, “I knew you were here, just didn’t realize you were still at the door.” He reached forward and brushed her hair behind her ear, never quite touching her head, and was pleased to find the little bobs stopping, even if she didn’t seem much calmer.

He pushed the tent flap open farther and stepped inside, moving around her with a few extra inches space to spare.

As soon as the flap closed, blocking out the morning sun, it was harder to hold onto the hope that today would be better. But then, it didn’t have to be, did it? It just needed to not be worse.

He dropped down into a comfortable squat, rather than making her look up, and her eyebrows raised in surprised as he peered at her face from below.

Her hands fluttered anxiously in front of her. “Oh - I -”

He held his hands out, hoping she’d give him hers and stay standing, rather than collapsing again. It was worth a try, anyway, and if she did fall down to her knees, at least he was already close enough to make eye contact.

“Oh!” she said again, softer this time. She placed her hands tentatively into his, her cheeks brightening into a blush.

Her hands were so small in his, immediately swallowed up even by his loosest, gentlest grasp. The bandages around her palms did a little bit to camouflage the narrow palms, but couldn’t disguise the delicacy of the slender, shaking fingers resting against his palm.

He held her hands as gently as he could manage. “Anna,” he began seriously, “I need you to listen to me, and I need you to tell me the truth. We have time, and there is no rush. Are you ready to meet people, or would you like me to bring breakfast in here?”

Her breathing shallowed, and her eyes started darting around, frightened, but she didn’t have much of anywhere else to look, not with him squatting down to look at her from under her hair, and not when she couldn’t twist away without pulling her hands out of his (admittedly loose) grip.

She blushed harder. “I can do it, Mas-” she flinched, her eyes blinking closed for a second and then meeting his fully as she corrected herself, big and pleading. “Gozukk. I can do it . . . Gozukk.” Her voice trailed away to near silence, and he decided she’d been stressed out enough. He gave her fingers a gentle, reassuring squeeze and then stood back up.

“Excellent. We’ll get you some breakfast over by where Djaana’s sitting, so you’ll have a familiar face nearby. I’ll tell the kids not to bother you.”

“Th-Thank you . . . Gozukk.”

She still seemed to be struggling with his name, but allowed him to usher her out of the tent, holding the flap open for her.

The adults in the camp made a point of not staring, in spite of the curiosity in their passing glances, but the children gawped openly, and Anna shrank closer to his side, pulling in on herself.

It felt good for her to cringe closer rather than farther away, as much as he didn’t like watching her stay so afraid. Fear is fear, Azzor had said, and backed into a corner, he was right, but Anna was a person and not a bird, and he had to hope for better.

Djaana smiled at both of them as they approached, her youngest, still just a toddler, ducking behind her calves and peering out at Gozukk and the stranger.

“How’s your back feeling this morning?” Djaana asked, her tone casual, as though this were a normal morning chat. “Mukzod is back in camp if you’d like a healer to take a look. You can go with Dumul, when he goes to train.”

Gozukk’s oldest nephew raised a hand, waving in Anna’s direction. “That’s me.”

Anna dropped into a curtsy. “Pleased to meet you.”

Dumul bowed back without rising from his feet, a deep polite nod. Gozukk’s heart warmed. Dumul and his cousin had both been a handful lately, insisting on taking new responsibilities and getting away from home, both of them only recently grown into their limbs, so that Gozukk still imagined them as lanky adolescents and was surprised when they came into view and weren’t.

Beside Dumul, Enzah rose to her feet, moving carefully and slowly toward him and Anna to avoid startling the girl, apparently having been briefed on the girl’s terror even though she’d been gone with the scouts yesterday. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small, well-carved wooden comb.

“Hey, Anna,” she said gently, “My aunt told me about you. I went with some scouts yesterday to find the campsites the caravan used before, and I thought this might be yours.”

Anna backed up slightly, almost bumping against Gozukk’s side. “Oh! Um, n-no ma’am. I’m - that was - part of the cargo.”

Her face had paled a little, and Gozukk could feel her shaking just inches from him.

“Thank you, Enzah, that was kind,” he said, “Why don’t you keep it as spoils?”

She grinned, something in the expression reminding him painfully of his late brother as she did, but he needed to stay in the here and now.

“I’m not a very good medic yet,” Dumul said, “But if you’d like me to look at your hand before you eat, I can try a small healing spell. Elder Mazogga says I should focus more on slow medicine before I learn the fast way, but a little magic can’t hurt.”

Anna’s hand closed into a fist as she pulled her hand closer to her chest, almost as if on instinct.

Dumul held his hands up, palms toward her, “Or if you’re not ready, that’s fine, too. I know Uncle’s had enough battle wounds to dress them well.”

“Better than you,” Djaana commented affectionately, “You should have listened to Mazogga.”

Dumul nodded deeply, conceding the point, but they all knew they couldn’t really regret him choosing to do healer’s training first, before medicine. Enzah stretched, letting her shirt ride up to reveal the messy scar across her stomach where she’d nearly been disemboweled a few months ago, and Gozukk felt a familiar small spike of fear as he thought about the fact that she’d been allowed to go scouting again with the rest of her training cohort, even to a place as safe as an abandoned camp.

Mel had been peering out from behind her mother’s legs with more and more confidence as they all stood still, and finally tugged on Djaana’s hand, “I go Uncle Gokukk?” she asked in a whisper that wasn’t really a whisper.

“Why don’t you go see if Uncle Gozukk wants to see you?” Djaana answered back.

The girl’s eyes brightened and she took off running on her chubby little legs, closing the distance between them so fast Gozukk barely had time to squat down and open his arms to catch her. She shrieked with giggles as he scooped her up and tossed her into the air, only to catch her again and hold her steady this time, plenty aware that baby cuddles didn’t last forever.

Mel buried her face against his shoulder and peered sideways at Anna, who seemed to have calmed down a little, too.

“Anna, this is my niece Mel. Mel, can you say hi to Anna?”

The toddler looked up and waved at the half-elf, but then buried her face back in his shoulder, suddenly shy. He laughed. “Good job, Mel. Do you want to let Anna say hi, too?”

Mel turned her head to the side to look at Anna and the half-elf spoke quickly, still clearly on edge. “Oh! Hi, Mel. I’m - I’m Anna.”

He introduced her to everyone around the circle, explaining that Jak was off with a friend, but she’d seen him yesterday, and his brother-in-law was away on a long hunt, back in a few days.

Finally, he settled her down in a spot by the fire next to Enzah. Usually, he’d have said Dumul was the less intimidating of the two, but he knew Anna was wary of men. It was reassuring when Enz immediately started talking to her in a calmer, softer voice than usual, offering her food and fussing over her a little bit, more like Djaana than like her late father. He smiled softly and relaxed. She’d always been a good girl, and he knew he could trust her to try her best, even if assuaging people’s fears wasn’t exactly her strongest skill.

He moved around the camp, talking briefly with various groups of people, but with half an eye on Anna the whole time, never straying too far to get back to her quickly if he needed to.

By the time Mel was wiggling to be let down and he had to return to his sister, it was clear both that his family was happy to accept Anna, and that it was a little overwhelming for her. She’d eaten, though he couldn’t imagine Enzah hadn’t been a little harsh about forcing the issue if Anna had been as reluctant as yesterday. Her arms were back around her middle, and something in her eyes looked half-dazed, her body hunched small next to his niece’s casual lanky sprawl.

Sending Mel toddling back to her mother, he crouched down beside Anna, whose brown-green eyes met his immediately this time, half desperate. He brushed her hair behind her ear again, a quick gesture of reassurance. “One more stop, and then I think you probably need more rest. Djaana’s not wrong. A visit to the healer or the midwife wouldn’t go amiss, now that you’re settled in a little bit.”

Anna’s eyes teared up and she started shaking again, eliciting a glare from Enzah he could feel burning into the side of his face, as if there were anything he could do about this.

He patted his niece casually on the shoulder as he rose to his feet, then offered a hand to Anna to help her up.

She took it immediately, quick enough this time to surprise him, though not unwelcomely. He guided her to Mukzod’s tent without quite touching her elbow, aware even without making contact that she was trembling again, but this time as she walked close to him, she at least seemed to be staying close, rather than trying to disappear into his side entirely, which seemed like a good sign.

“Before we go in to the tent,” he said gently, “I need you to tell me if you’re uncomfortable. Mukzod heals with help from the gods, and I can promise you he won’t call down any kind of magic to hurt you. But if you’re afraid, you don’t have to be healed at all. I just also want to make sure there’s no kind of tracking magic or curse on you. And if that’s all he does, that’s alright.”

Anna nodded, but she wasn’t meeting his eyes, looking down at the ground instead, and he didn’t know whether to believe her. Either way, it was best to remove the bandage quickly. He nodded back to her and called into the tent for Mukzod’s permission to enter.

#d&d whump #past abuse tw #past slavery tw #hurt/comfort #whump #fluff #might make a masterpost and a family tree/character list #bc at this point that seems useful #i knew he had 2 nieces and 2 nephews but i did not know djaana's oldest was gonna be a doctor #what a nice surprise #dumul is an extremely good boy #also the cousins are 3 days apart so people were calling them 'the twins' even before her parents died and haven't exactly stopped #no one will ever challenge gozukk to take over leadership because he is a force to be reckoned with in battle #but does he secretly just want to toss his sister's baby in the air and make her giggle forever? maybe #his niblings keep growing up on him and it's tragic

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slvtbible · 4 years

Text

G O L D

chapter two

summary: [y/n is a young stripper who is adored by many men. harry styles is a man who loves to carry danger with him]

word count: 4787

pairing: stripper!y/n and gangleader!harry

warnings: violence, vulgar language, sexual acts, alcohol and drugs

Read it on my wattpad here too!

previous chapter here and here’s the series masterlist !

y/n swears she can hear her heartbeat beating loud soon as she sets herself down on his lap. Still, she keeps her flirty persona for a show so he won’t suspect anything, though on the inside she can feel herself about to faint. She doesn’t quite understand how difficult it is for her to avoid his sharp gaze either, it’s clear that his eyes haven't left her body the minute she stepped into the room earlier. Because when she looks up, his beautiful green eyes are already staring back at hers.

“So… Mr. Styles” y/n starts, giving him a naughty smile as her hands find their way to his shoulders. She feels how tense his shoulders are under her grip. “What brings you to this awful depth of New York city?”

He clears his throat, licking his lips before biting down his lower ones and keeps his hands on her hips. Finding no desire to remove them. “Stress reliever. Haven’t got a time off in the last few weeks. I thought to myself, ‘strip clubs should be fun’, to be accompanied by a gorgeous woman like yourself seems like a good idea.”

It’s either he’s being sarcastic or really is just telling the truth. But she refuses to believe the latter. He sure is charming and cheeky from what she can tell but y/n sure as hell isn’t buying it. “Mhmm, you sure are a sweet talker Mr. Styles.” She tells him as she begins to slowly grind against his bulge causing him to exhale a deep groan. “You sure you don’t talk to other girls that way?”

He mutters a “Christ” when he feels himself growing hard under her sultry move, yet she isn’t stopping. And she only had just started. “Believe me doll, I don't. Being in a mob, relationships are hard to keep, you know?”

“I’m not talking about relationships, Mr. Styles” she utters gently, starting to circle her hips in a slow pace but hard enough to keep him satisfied. She smirks as soon as she hears him mumble a curse. “Anyway. . . What did you and Joe talk about earlier before I came here? You must know something, Mr Styles i-”

“Harry” He cuts her off, his thumb softly stroking against her hip bone,

“What was that?”

“Call me Harry, doll. Just call me Harry” He repeats, staring intensely into her eyes,

She hums in response and nods. “Okay, Harry. . . You must know something that Joe, he never gives up on me that easy. Rarely letting me perform in private for anyone.” leaning herself back slowly and rests her palms upon the table, now moving her hips back and forth.

Harry shamelessly lets his eyes wander down from her perky breasts to her thick thighs, moving his hands to rest them there. “I threatened him” he says casually with a shrug, feeling her tense but brushes it off. “Said i’ll kill him if he doesn’t give me the 50 grand he owed me and a girl for tonight.”

He sounds so calm yet so serious it scares her a bit. With the way his eyes staring at her aren’t really helping too. And how his tongue pokes out a bit to wet his bottom lip, like he knows it makes her even more nervous. He really knows how to make a girl weak on her knees.

“Looks like someone is in trouble” she giggles cutely, imagining the terrified look on Joe’s face when Harry threatened him. “Not surprised. . . He does that alot to people. Including me.”

He cocks an eyebrow, curiosity building up. “really? Like what”

“Like. . . he knows I'm short on money because I keep stalling to pay the rent just so he can ‘borrow’ half of the earnings I got every week. He really is a dick and never pays me back” she spills casually, then her eyes widen when she realizes what she had just said about her boss. “Shit! Don’t tell him i said that.”

With a chuckle, he shakes his head. “Relax. . . He’s not the type of man I would tell my problems to.” He speaks lowly and continues to admire her body, rubbing gently on her soft thighs. “So tell me, how did you end up here?”

It takes her a while before answering. “Well. . . Short story. I ran away from home to start a new life. Began doing it when I was 18. Technically wasn’t illegal but it’s what kept a roof over my head”

“Mhmm. . . must be tough. But i’m glad you did otherwise we wouldn’t have met.” He flirts, shooting her a wink to fuck with her a little.

She rolls her eyes playfully and grins after. Carefully lifting her hands off the table and leaning forward to set them back on his shoulders, giving them a gentle squeeze. Her eyes suddenly fall on his two swallows tattoos, beautifully inked on his broad chest. She struggles to find the urge not to trace her fingers across them.

“Those tattoos are gorgeous” she comments blatantly, eyes stuck on the masterpiece. “Do you mind if i. . . touch them a little?” she asks softly, looking up to his eyes innocently yet teasingly,

Harry smirks, exhaling a deep breath. “Go ahead baby. . .” he speaks in a hum, voice so deep and carries a thick british accent that causes her to squirm a little.

She ignores the butterflies in her stomach when he calls her ‘baby’. Without being told twice, her soft hands make its way to his chest. Thumbing the large ink and feeling how soft his skin is. Her eyes are paying attention to the every single detail of the ink, wondering how the tattoos could fit so perfectly on his chest.

No doubt, he is the sexiest man she has ever come across to. She can feel his large hands going towards her backside, palming her plump cheeks and giving them a light squeeze. Usually she would tell anyone off for touching her like that especially if she told them no. Yet this time she doesn’t say anything. Not because she’s afraid of him but she strangely feels turned on.

“Fuck” he breathes out, feeling her ass one more time. Hearing her giggle as she gradually picks up her pace grinding on him, catching him off guard. “You really are a God’s masterpiece, huh? Bet you wouldn’t mind having that ass spanked would you?” He whispers against her ear, biting his lower lip hard.

Though she’d admit she wouldn’t, she can’t give up that easily. She slowly shakes her head and removes herself from him causing him to whine. Spinning around as she sways her ass side to side, sneaking a glance to make sure he’s watching. And he is.

Her hand wraps tightly around the golden pole. “You have to take me to dinner if you wanna go down to that path, Mr. Styles”

He watches with lust and adoration in his eyes as she now, hooks her arm around the pole, lifting herself off easily to give her body a gentle spin. Her eyes screw shut and her head is thrown back. Then she’s coming back down slowly, legs wide as she lands with a perfect split. Long brown hair covering the side of her beautiful features, her tongue licking her upper lip with her eyes looking at his.

He follows the curve of her round ass, eager to get his hands on them again but he knows he has to wait. His eyes squint a bit to spot a small detailed heart tattoo on her ass cheek.

Harry learns that y/n is a little teaser. Enjoy making a man hard but refuses to be under the spell of a man’s touch. He likes that actually. He likes that a lot. It may be painful to have his cock hard at the moment while she’s not doing anything about it, but she’s worth it.

With that gorgeous face and beautiful body having to perform for him, what more could he ask for now?

“You are so. Fucking. Sexy” his voice is darker now, a seductive grin is slowly forming as he thirsts over her. “Must have made a lot of men mad out there.”

“So i’ve been told” she declares with confidence, putting on an innocent smile as she gently crawls towards him, seeing how hard he is from this view. Her eyes never leaving his.

She stops in between his legs and settles on her knees. Being the little minx she is, she brings her hands on his thighs. Giving them a gentle rub like he did earlier with her. “I’ve never come face to face with a man like you, Harry. . . Not sure if there’s another one like you either.”

“Because there’s only one Harry Styles, doll.” He delicately caresses her soft cheek, moving a few strands of her hair from blocking her pretty face. “And I am sure I'm the only man that gets to see you on her knees, being a naughty little thing with her hands on him knowing how hard she makes him.” He whispers gently, seemingly can’t take his eyes off her as she plays with him a bit more.

“You’re a handsome man, Mr. Styles. Any girl would be lucky to be on her knees. . .touching you in a way she wanted to” She responds cheekily, winking at him.

He chuckles deeply, shaking his head. “Now look who’s the sweet talker eh?” He jokingly asks, reaching down to grab her hand. “Up you go, pet”

She looks at him questionably but stands up anyway when his hand wraps around hers. “Um. . . we still have thirty minutes left. Joe told me to at least give you an hour.” She notifies, looking down at him as she fiddles with her fingers,

He nods. “I know. But doll, you’ve given me much already. Plus, if I stayed for over thirty more, I would probably bust in my pants because look what you've done” he shamelessly points to his tent. Chuckling as she blushes and biting down her lip. “That doesn’t mean this is one and done. I’d like to see you again next time. I did tell Joe I wanted you. Just wanna make sure i picked the right one and indeed i was” He stands, pulling out his wallet from the back and pocket and grab five hundred dollar bills from it,

“Here you go, sweetheart.”

She looks down on the bundle of cash he’s giving her in shock and lets out a nervous laugh. “Oh. . . no i can’t take that. It’s too much. Men usually paid me twenty or fifteen at least.”

He frowns. He doesn’t believe any word she just said. A gorgeous woman like her getting paid less? Fucking assholes.

“Well, I am not them, am i?” He quirks an eyebrow watching her adorable expression. “I’m Harry Styles, baby. Money isn’t a problem to me. Come on, you deserved it.”

She stares down at his hand and hesitantly takes the money from it. Giving him a soft, thankful smile. “Thank you, Mr-- uh i mean, Harry. I appreciate it.”

He grins, nodding his head as he slips his wallet back into his pocket. “Anytime, doll. Don’t go far from me, eh? Would love to take you out on a stroll sometimes.” He leans down a bit to peck her cheek. “Take care of yourself, love. I’ll be sure to call you once I get the time” with one last smirk and a wink, he swiftly walks out of the door and closes it. Leaving her dumbfounded in the room.

She tries to process everything that has just happened. Not once did any of her clients ever pull a move like he did. It’s not like she would be interested anyway since most of them are old and married. Something about him doesn’t terrify her anymore. Okay, maybe a little. Especially when she caught a glimpse of his gun fifteen minutes prior but she shakes it off quickly.

Maybe she did enjoy being alone with him. With his hands feeling her ass and his heavy voice speaks to her making her squirms in excitement. She tried really hard to not let him know he’s doing things to her but she thinks he’s smarter than that. He must’ve guessed that.

With a smirk, she hides the cash in her bra, checking if it’s prominent or not because she doesn’t want anyone--especially Joe-- to find out. She stands in front of a mirror, fixing her hair a bit and letting herself out of the room.

If he keeps handing her cash like this then she cannot fucking wait to see him again.

Harry steps inside the dimly lit room, removing his Rolex before laying it gently on a table. His feet allow him to carry himself towards a black safe, which it’s firmly settled on the wall as he unlocks it. Digging his hand through the bundle of cash to grab his gun before loading it with three bullets.

The thing about Harry is that he doesn’t like wasting precious things too easily. What he had learned for the past twelve years of being a gunrunner, he notices a few minor details about guns. How the bullets normally get wasted for less than an hour while they’re being used. Harry doesn't actually condone guns. He hates the idea of having to carry such a heavy weight item wherever he goes.

But somehow, guns are a ‘must have’ in every single mafia group. So he has to learn to live by it every day.

“You said there won’t be a bloodshed tonight, boss. What changed?”

Harry stops moving and turns around, meeting Reece’s gaze immediately and his smirk which plants on his features. Hands behind his back as he takes a couple steps forward.

Harry emits a deep chuckle while shaking his head lightly, putting the gun down. “If you’re talking about the Glock 43 i had in my hands, i wasn’t planning anything stupid. I like being prepared.” He closes the safe and locks it with four digits passcode.

Reece’s eyebrows raise and his lips form into a pout as he nods, retracting his hand from behind showing Harry a sealed brown document making Harry’s brows twist in confusion.

“What’s that?” Harry strides his way towards Reece’s figure, close enough to examine the documents he is holding,

Reece says nothing but pulls a few papers and pictures instead inside of it, throwing them on the table sloppily causing them to splatter a bit. Harry peers at the papers carefully, fingers reaching out to move the papers a little bit so he can observe them better.

“That’s Alejandro Blanco. He owns the infamous Blanco Cartel, passed on by his late father who died in 1999.” Reece begins to explain as he points at the picture Harry is touching, the twinge of his spanish accent comes into play as he speaks the name. “If you didn’t know, Blanco Cartel is an International Drug Trafficking organization and a criminal syndicate. Money laundering is a part of their characteristic work. Blanco Cartel is named to be the second most powerful International drug trafficking in the world right after the Sinaloa cartel.”

Reece then gently grabs another photograph of two young men having a conversation, dressed in pastel colored shirts with their glasses on. “They operate in Calabria, Italy. Seems like the United States Intelligence Community are chasing their asses too.”

Humming as a response, Harry quickly pulls the photograph off the table. Observing it closely towards his gaze as his eyes flicks back and forth to the other photos. “I may be out of my fucking mind but i could swear i’ve seen him before.”

“If you’re referring to the guy we saw at the black market two months ago, yes that was him. He wasn’t very subtle back then.” Reece pours two glasses of whiskey, knowing it’s going to be a long night. “Said he had contact with Joe too.” He hands out the glass towards Harry, which he grabs lazily.

His head snaps at the mention of his name, eyebrows pulling forward. “Joe? That son of a bitch who works in the Red Room?”

Reece can only give a small shrug, sipping on the alcoholic beverage. “We don’t know for sure. But i talked to a few guys at the club, they mentioned about Joe having a close off relations with other drug cartels. They didn’t give me names but it’s a coincidence.”

Harry nods, pinching his bottom lip with his forefinger and thumb. Something that he always does whenever he’s in a deep thought. “Joe’s an Italian… He said something about having colleagues who worked there six months prior.” He mumbles, fiddling with the bottom edge of the paper. “You’re saying that the package that I've delivered and the 50k he owes me, Blanco has something to do with it?”

“I didn’t exactly confirm it, Boss. but it could be. Joe’s a tricky asshole, he would find any kind of loophole to get out of his fucking mess.” Reece answers, gulping down his drink in one swig.

“Okay then… We’ll get our heads in the game tomorrow morning. Call Junior and Dominic as well.” Harry states, throwing the papers back to the table and exhaling a sigh. “Need to make a few calls tonight”

“Oh? Was it the girl back in the room, boss? Got her number already?” He teases, gathering the photographs and tucking them back into the brown paper.

“Fuck no” He laughs, pulling out his phone from the back pocket. “Not tonight.”

“So the answer to that last question is…?”

Harry rolls his eyes in annoyance yet pulling off a small smirk to grace on his face, sipping on his drink as he waves Reece off. Earning a loud cackle from him,

“Told your ass you would get it tonight right? Always listen to your right hand man, boss! Motherfucker is always right.” Reece sticks his tongue out as a form of mockery and point at himself which causes Harry to laugh,

“Yeah yeah whatever.” Harry says getting annoyed though really he can’t seem to fight back a smile,

“So what happened? Did she casually slip her number on or what?” Reece asks, moving towards the kitchen to put the empty glass on the sink,

Clearing his throat, Harry shakes his head. “Asked Beck for it. I don’t think she’s the type to easily give out her digits to a man she knew for less than an hour.”

Now Reece is confused. “So you asked someone else for her number and hope to pester her later?”

“No” Harry denies, “Just wanna surprise her a little. What’s with the interrogation?” He asks, getting quite defensive, twirling the drink lightly, causing the ice to clink against the glass.

Reece stares at his boss with a perplexed look before laughing, “you’re not making any sense boss but all right.” He shrugs on his black suit and reaches for his keys. “Night, boss. Try to get some sleep eh? You look like shit”

Harry rumbles a chuckle, “I’ll let you know if we’re on tomorrow. Drive safe”

With a nod, Reece salutes to Harry and opens the front door before walking out of his mansion and drives off back to his home.

Her head hurts when she wakes up, hand pressing on to it and giving a slight massage in hopes to ease the pain. She removes herself from the bed and struts her way to the kitchen just in her bra and panties. It has become her routine sleeping half naked--or just naked really-- she hates sleeping with clothes on. Especially during this time where the weather isn’t really considering to coordinate with where she lives.

She spots her phone on the kitchen counter and reaches out to grab it, pressing the home button key to find a few dozens of messages that were sent from last night. Mostly from Violet.

Vio: Okay you little bitch, you haven’t spilled the tea on how it went last night.

Vio: Please tell me you at LEAST sucked his dick

Y/n chokes on her morning coffee at Violet’s bluntness. Setting down her cup while shaking her head, swiping her finger to the right to respond to her message,

Violet is known to have a big mouth. She honestly could give two fucks about what other people think, one of the things Y/N loves about her best friend. Not that she’s any different from her.

“Vi you little ass” she mutters on her breath with a small smirk, typing down the message before pressing send,

Y/N: i did NOT suck anyone’s dick last night.

Y/N: aaand… nothing happened. Just got paid to do a lap dance.

As she puts her phone back on the table, she decides to make herself a breakfast. Pulling out a carton of eggs from the fridge and sausages. She sighs looking at her empty fridge, only spotting a half filled milk, bacon and the instant korean noodles from last week.

It’s not that she earns a very small paycheck from her job that she could barely buy groceries. But the thing is, being a stripper kept her extremely busy whether during the day or night. She’s barely even at her place most of the time. Joe always makes her come early to do unnecessary shit but of course, she can’t go against him.

Today is the lucky day though, it’s her day off. She can finally take a breather and relax. Perhaps watch the new season of La Casa De Papel or read a few books. She never got to finish Paulo Coelho’s ‘The Spy’.

“Okay, I really need to go get groceries” she utters, slamming the fridge door close before breathing out a sigh. Heading towards the stove to turn it on,

As she cracks open the egg one by one, she hears her device vibrate from behind causing her to stop her movement. She spins on her heel to see an unknown number calling, eyebrows knitting together as curiosity starts to build up inside of her.

‘Who the hell is calling her at 9 am in the morning? Other than Joe and Violet that is.’

As she clutches her phone in her palm, she’s debating whether to turn it off or answer it. Small chances are it’s her ex boyfriend, Kai. Begging for another chance to be with her since he fucked it up with their relationship the last time. He hasn’t stopped pestering her, changing his number every chance he gets.

With a sigh, she taps the answer icon before pressing it against her ear. “Hello?”

“Morning, gorgeous”

Her eyes bug out a little, freezing in place as she hears the voice speak. An unfamiliar deep british accent ringing through her ear. She can sense a smirk on his face as he speaks to her. That cocky bastard.

“Mr. Styles?” she asks carefully, feeling the need to confirm that it’s actually him. “No offense but… how the hell did you get my number?” She walks back towards the stove, finishing cracking the two eggs before giving it a mix. Pouring them on the pan to make an omelette.

“From someone” He says sarcastically, almost making her scoff. “Not from Joe if you’re wondering.”

“Mhmm” she murmurs, finding it hard to believe but she plays along anyway. “Can I ask you what you want from me, Mr. Styles?”

She’s not entirely annoyed that he called. But shouldn’t people learn to not ring someone at 9 am in the morning, especially if that person just woke up? Clearly rules don’t apply to him.

Harry smiles hearing her soft angelic voice, ring clad fingers tapping against his work table. “Can’t stop thinking about you if i’m being honest, doll. You were driving me crazy last night.”

She bites down her plump lip, smiling at how her charm gives that much effect on him. “Mhmm really? Which one? Me grinding on your hard on, me dancing around the pole, or the one where I was tracing my fingers along your tattoos? Gotta be specific” she teases with a flirty tone,

Groaning as a response, he throws his head back against the chair and shuts his eyes close momentarily. Imagining the look on her face when she teases. “You’re doing it on purpose. You’re gonna make me hard again, baby. Don’t start something you can’t finish”

“Big boss don’t like playing games?” She pushes, faking a pout though he can’t see her. Grabbing the steel spatula to flip the egg. “My bad.”

“Don’t tempt me doll. I love playing games. Especially with a pretty girl like you.” He responds, standing up from his chair only in his grey sweatpants. His tan chest glistened with flicker of sweat. “But what’s the point of playing around if your fine self isn’t here with me?”

She lets out a breathy giggle, playing with her uncooked eggs with the edge of her spatula. Enjoying every word that came out of his mouth. “Is that your subtle way of asking me out on a date?”

“Maybe. Didn’t really have the chance to get to know each other last night, yeah?” He questions, sinking his teeth on his lip. “You had me hooked the minute you stepped into the room.”

‘God, he’s good. He’s really good.’ she thinks,

y/n clears her throat, tracing her finger gently around the empty plate. Just like she did to his tattoos last night. “I thought Mafias don’t do relationships?”

“We lie sometimes doll. Doesn’t mean we actually meant it.” He declares, smiling to himself at her playful teasing. “So what time do i have to pick you up?”

A small laugh escapes from her mouth, shaking her head side to side at his question. Plating the egg on the plate before moving it to the counter so she can sit on the stool. “Very forward. I’m flattered” She admits, feeding herself a small bit of the dish. “What would happen if i said no?”

His eyes look up to the ceiling as he answers, “then i’ll keep asking again and again until you say yes.”

“Talk about harassment!” she gasps in a playful way, hand on her heart. “Please tell me your last girlfriend didn’t witness the same thing as i am right now.”

He chuckles, pinching his bottom lip with his long fingers. Mind fills with the image of her gorgeous body moving like she did for him in the private room. “She went through far worse, you should be grateful” He jokes, hearing her laugh after. “So? What time?”

It may sound like it’s a bad idea for her to go out with him, knowing he’s the most dangerous and possibly most wanted man in New York. Yet, on the other hand, why not?

Go hard or go home, she guesses? Besides, it’d probably just be two strangers getting to know each other. What harm could it bring?

Perhaps she won’t be hearing the end of it from Violet.

She tilts her head as she thinks of a way to respond. “Just a friendly hang out right?” she asks, chewing on her meal. “I could use a friend.” she flirts

“If you wanna call it that, doll” he utters, shrugging his shoulders a bit. Playing along to whatever game she’s pulling. “I could use a friend too. . . been pretty lonely” he flirts back, wondering what her answer may be.

She tries to ignore the butterflies in her stomach. She really does. But how? This man is way too fucking good with the way he speaks. As if he knows he’s gonna get her wrapped around his fingers soon.

y/n taps her fingers against the tiles, purposely keeping him waiting. “I’m free at 8. . . or 9 works too.” she bites her lip, playing with her food with the fork. She can’t find any desire to eat anymore, too busy playing around with the world’s dangerous mafia boss.

“9 it is then” he confirms. Walking out of his work room to go downstairs. “I’ll see you tonight, beautiful.”

“See you” she then hangs up on the phone and sets it down. Grabbing her coffee with both hands as she lifts it to her lips and takes a sip. Locking her eyes on the phone screen, trying to process what just happened.

Stomach swimming with excitement and nerves as she thinks about having another intimate moment with Harry later. She has no idea where he’s gonna take her later but she knows one thing for sure,

She’s not gonna wake up in her own bed in the morning.

a/n: there you have it, part 2! :) don’t worry, the smut scene is coming up on the next chapter (hopefully). Enjoy reading my loves!

#harry styles x reader #harry styles blurbs #harry styles imagines #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfictions #dom!harry #dom!harry styles #mafia!harry #mafia!harry styles #gang!harry #gang!leader harry #daddy!harry #daddy!harry styles

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gubesboo · 4 years

Text

That should be me

HEY!! ITS MEEE! I posted quite some time ago that maybe I should post a fic so HERE IT IS FINALLY MY FIRST FIC! I’m in nursing school so it can be difficult to write also I read all of these amazing stories and think I could never so hopefully you enjoy this!

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Warnings: uhhh cursing, suggestive sexual language, mutual pining, fluff (cause I’m a fluff whor3), maybeeee angst? idk I think that’s it other than pretty bad writing!

Italicized = readers thoughts

Bolded= spencer’s thoughts

Word count: 3.5k

Y/N POV

Working at the BAU is not what you were expecting. Long hours, early mornings, sleepless nights. Don’t kid yourself, you loved your job, but at times it can seem that the bad outweighs the good. Only one thing could lighten you up on your darkest days and it was him. Doctor Spencer Reid. Spencer was everything that you hope for in a potential partner. He’s patient, caring, intelligent, also did I mention insanely attractive. Over the years of working there you and Spencer had become best friends, even rivaling Derek Morgan as his, and Penelope Garcia as yours. See being best friends is great, although completely platonic, the late night movie marathons, weekly coffee meets, along with working right beside him on your darkest days, you have come to love the brown mop of curly hair and hazel eyes that is Spencer Reid. Well, the problem that now is… BEING in love with Spencer Reid.

The bullpen having it’s normal hustle and bustle left you with your thoughts. You didn’t even recognize the man of the hour as he called out to you.

“Y/N…? Y/N... Y/N!!”.

“Oh.. sorry Spence, what’s up?”, you blushed a little, embarrassed that this man could have the power to zoned you out any minute of the day.

“Are you okay? You seem a little out of it.” Spencer so worriedly responded.

It’s the little things like this that could someone so easily make anyone fall in love. Spencer Reid could read you like a book, which is not something out of the ordinary for him. These microscopic gestures is something he knows that you take close to heart.

“What? OH! Yeah I’m fine Spencer this paperwork is seriously getting to me now.”

He let out a little laugh at your response. “Yeah I can see that, that’s why I offered you a fill on your cup of coffee.”

Yeah you know what else you can fill. You thought in your head for the quickest second but just as quickly you could feel the heat rising in your face. With this you were quick to stand up to take the attention off of you. “You know what yeah Spence that would a-actually be great! I’m just gonna...uh… go see Penny real quick, I forgot I was meeting her to give her back her… s-sweatshirt she left at my place!”.

Oh god are you screwed. Dammit Y/N get it the FUCK together. “Oh ha.. You know, that might be helpful” you reply trying to act aloof. Spencer just smiles hesitantly parting your ways as he walks towards the break room for coffee, and you go to Garcia’s to give her the ‘sweater’.

Spencer looked at you quizzically causing you to quickly turn to head that way. Just before you walked out of the bullpen you heard Spencer say “Uh.. Y/N.. do you want your bag?”.

Barging through the door of Penelope’s headquarters, she turns around at you wide eyed like you have just escaped a wild tiger.

“Y/N are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Great. “Penny I am LOSING it here.”

She looks at you worried like you actually have tossed your head off of your shoulder. “Oh this is about boy wonder now isn’t it” she so dubiously recognized.

“Yes Penny I have no idea what I’m doing here, I can’t focus on my work, I’m embarrassing myself left and right, and to make matters worse this whole thing is completely one sided!”.

Penelope looks at you sadly, she wants more than anything for you and Dr. 187 to get together but the stress of seeing you in this state almost breaks her heart. “Y/N, have you tried talking to him about it, we see the way he acts with you. Always going out of his way to make sure you are safe and happy, he doesn’t do that with just anyone…”

You had to give it to her, Penelope always puts on the bravest face for you, that’s why you love her so much. “It’s not just me Penny, what about JJ… or Emily even, he does the same for them… look I’m just trying to be realistic. Someone like Spencer would never go for someone like me. He IS a genius, and I can barely make it through one day where my mind doesn’t get sidetracked.”

Penelope had had enough with your self doubt, she knew you were one of the most talented on the team. “Y/N ENOUGH! First of all, JJ and Emily never stay with Spencer and binge watch Doctor Who til’ the break of dawn. We all notice the longing stares on the jet between him and you, the maybe a tad too long hugs before you guys leave… it’s obvious he’s into you. You know Spencer has a thing for germs yet he shook your hand on your first day here. Let that sink in for a second Y/N. Secondly, you are one of the smartest and talented people on this team. Remember last week when you guys were in Dallas, and YOU pieced together the unsub had a partner.. Y/N there would’ve been so many other victims if it weren’t for you, you have no idea how much everyone respects and values your accomplishments on the team, INCLUDING Spencer.”

Tears had welled up in your eyes, you never knew how much you needed these words of endearment. Sometimes it can be hard to believe this when you are always in your head about what you could've done better or simple mistakes that could've been avoided, sending you into a downward spiral. “Thanks Pen”, you smiled subtly. “I think I’m gonna go to lunch, do you want anything?”

“No Y/N I’m good. Please go talk to Spencer, I have faith that it will really end happily for you” Garcia replied kindly.

“You know what I will, also one more thing…” She turned back in her chair cautiously at what you might say next.

“Yeah?”

“Um.. if anyone comes in here asking what I was doing, can you say I returned a sweater to you?”

“Oh Y/N” Garcia said, releasing a school girl giggle, “You have SO got it bad”.

You laughed out of her office, timid of what the rest of the day had left to offer.

SPENCER POV

Ok that was odd, I hope Y/N is okay. Was it something I said? Oh God what if Morgan spilled the beans on how I feel about her. She’s my best friend, no what Morgan would never do that...well...would he? Just my luck Morgan was in the break room filling up his mug, walking in he gave me the slightest smirk.

“Well pretty boy how is it going with Y/N? Ask her out yet?” he said, taking a sip of his coffee giving him the side eye.

“What!? No.. Morgan you know she doesn’t feel the same about me, she’s never demonstrated anything that could elude to being more than friends. I know it will never happen.” sadly stated, Spencer began filling up the two mugs.

“Oh and you have?” Morgan said chuckling at Spencer’s reply, it was obvious that not even the genius had shown any type of actions that would sway Y/N into thinking he wanted to be more than friends. Spencer of course recognizes this but the simple things must account for something right? The subtle cuddles on the couch, constantly getting her refills on coffee, late night hangouts when Y/N was having a crying breakdown. He doesn’t just do that for anybody, she has to know this right? Maybe it wasn’t too obvious.

“Look Morgan, I’m trying alright? You haven’t told her anything have you, she’s been dodgy around me lately.” Spencer crouched into himself, thinking how he could mess up something that hasn’t even started yet?

“Come on Spencer, I mess with you a lot, but not when it comes to ya girl man. Look if you think something is bothering her just ask her about it, I think you guys are close enough as friends to where you can ask her about something like that right? And if she does know about your feelings then you have your answer, if not, lay it on her Reid. You always miss 100% of the shots you don’t shoot.”

Listening to these words almost encouraged Spencer but the weight of the fact that he might be rejected by the one girl he has opened up his heart to is too much to handle. It is easier to sit on the sidelines and wait for the opportunity to erupt then seize it himself.

“Yeah Morgan you’re probably right. I’ll ask Y/N about it at lunch. Thanks Morgan I’ll keep you updated.”

Morgan chuckled to himself “Well hopefully you don’t have to tell me, you can show me when you get back.”

With that, Spencer walked out of the breakroom with his and Y/N’s coffee right as she walked back into the bullpen looking slightly disheveled. “Hey Y/N! Lunch?” Spencer smiled at Y/N.

“Ummm… Yeah! Sandwiches?” Y/N replied, Spencer realized she usually had sandwiches when she was stressed. Carb loading seemed to make everything better. He mentally noted this to ask about later.

“Sounds perfect.”

With that Spencer and Y/N walked out of the office timidly, overwhelmed with their inner battle tension fighting at them.

LUNCH- Y/N POV

Walking into their go to sandwich shop down the street had a warm and inviting atmosphere. Almost like a hug from your grandma, it never gets old. The smell of freshly baked bread spread through the room and even calmed the nervousness that had surrounded Y/N and Spencer. The girl at the register you’ve come to know as Jessica, noticed her most loyal customers and greeted them with a warm smile.

“Y/N! Spencer! Welcome back you guys! Are we having our usual today?”

Almost embarrassed by the amount of times that they come in that the waitress knows their order. They nod in agreement. A BLT with mayo for Y/N and a ham and turkey club for Spencer.

“Don’t you know it Jessica” you replied, giving her a wink and handing her a 20. “Keep the change” you smiled.

“I’ll have it out to you guys soon!” She replied before going to the counter to assemble the lunch.

Spencer has seemed on edge since he asked you to lunch. Oh no had he caught on? Did he hear me and Penelope.. No he couldn’t have. Just breathe. It’s okay. You noticed Spencer about to say something when you were pulled out of your thoughts by an unfamiliar voice.

“Hi...Y/N?” you turned around to reveal a rather handsome man. What some would consider tall, dark and handsome. His black hair sat wavy on his head. He was cute you had to admit, just the perfect balance of toned without it being overbearing.

“Uh, Hi. I’m sorry I don’t mean to come across rude but...Do I know you?”. There was something about him that was right at the tip of your tongue. He did look familiar but you couldn’t place the face with a name.

“Oh right. Hi um Chase! From Easton Heights? We went to high school together.”

“OH MY GOD! Yes! Chase! We had Biology together right? Wow look at you! You look amazing, how are you?” Wow he has definitely aged well.

Spencer shifted uncomfortably. Maybe it was in his head but he could definitely see a connection between the two of them.

“Oh sorry Chase this is my friend Spencer, we work together.” Ugh friends, even saying the word left a sad tone on your tongue. So much hope and wanting in the word, that the one you hope would notice was completely blind to the idea.

Chase extended his hand for a handshake but was matched with Spencer’s typical skepticism, waving back at him instead of returning the endeavor.

“Don’t mind him, it's a germ thing.” you said to Chase seeming almost offended by Spencer’s action but nodded in an almost condolence type of way.

This brought you back to your first day with the team. After exchanging handshakes with Hotch, JJ, Rossi, Emily, Morgan and a bone crushing hug from Penelope (you knew at that second this woman was going to be your rock), last up was the genius himself. To his surprise along with everyone else's he extended his hand to meet yours to introduce himself. Everyone around gave skeptic looks to the other, but to be honest, it was hard to notice everyone else when looking into Spencer’s eyes. From that moment on, you were hook line and sinker to the pipe cleaner with eyes.

You reminisce about this moment along with Penelope’s words from earlier when you are pulled out of your thoughts by Jessica calling from the counter.

“Y/N, Spencer! Your sandwiches are up!” Jessica shouted from the counter.

Spencer went to grab the sandwiches from the counter while you and Chase continued the small talk. What he walked back in on made his heart sink to the pit of his stomach.

“Look Y/N I don’t mean to be forward but you obviously look great. I-I mean you’ve always looked great, I’m just saying adulting looks a-amazing on you. Anyways is there any way you are free tonight? Maybe we could meet up at this great Italian place in the city? Catch up a little?” Chase offered.

You had to hand it to him, he knew how to play his cards. As much as you wanted to hold out for Spencer, it was a stagnant relationship. No pull or tug anywhere as much as you wanted to, you didn’t want to set yourself up for heartbreak if you didn’t have to. You looked over at him. His face seemed unbothered by Chase’s actions. If he cared about you in more than a friend's way this would have bothered him right? If it did, he didn’t show it so you know what? Fuck it. Maybe it is self sabotage but, maybe this would be good for you.

“Uh, you know what? Yeah that would be nice. Maybe we can meet up around 7:30? Today is paperwork day at the office so I should be off at 5, gives me enough time to go home and change. Unless a case comes in of course.” You said handing him a card with your name and number on it, usually for business, but why waste time writing it down anywhere else right?

“Great I’ll see you then. It was nice meeting you Spencer.” Chase said with a warm smile before making his way out of the shop leaving you and Spencer in a limbo.

Well… THAT just happened. You thought to yourself as you walked out of the shop. Spencer seemed awfully quiet the walk back to the office only nodding and responding to your thoughts when absolutely necessary. Not even so much as the facts that you found completely endearing. You tried to brush it off as the midday lag, the sleep deprivation finally catching up to him, but that didn’t seem like the whole story. But at this point, you were tired of trying to read Spencer. Bigger and better things were waiting for you besides the man walking next to you. Or at least you hope there were.

THAT NIGHT- SPENCER POV

After an afternoon full of methodical paperwork, coffee, and self deprecation. Spencer goes home to his empty apartment, something that seems so full of light when Y/N is there.

If he had to admit it, this is something that Spencer had nightmares about. He knows it’s no one's fault but himself but he was right there. At lunch he was finally going to grow some balls and tell Y/N just how much he liked, probably loved her. But Chase happened. What if you fall in love with him, leaving Spencer in the dust. There is no way there could be time for a best friend AND a boyfriend. Especially not when Spencer wants to fill both rolls. He wants to be the one whose arms you wake up in. Who tries and horribly fails to make dinner for. To possibly get married and have kids with.

He ponders this while staring at you contact information on his phone, finger hovering over the call button. It is now or never. Spencer thinks.

“Fuck it.” Spencer says before grabbing his keys and coat, heading out the door.

YOUR APARTMENT- Y/N POV

Walking though your door and shedding your coat, you walk into your barren apartment thinking about the day you had. The rest of the work day had trudged along unbearably slow. You couldn't help but feel guilty accepting the date in front of Spencer. Sure, you guys were friends but on the way back and the rest of the day in the bullpen, Spencer had been avoiding you. When you looked over your eyes would meet, Spencer would clench his jaw and look immediately back down. He stopped the coffee refills, which was fine, but at some point he walked in on you pouring coffee just to do a straight 180 to walk out the door.

Ultimately feeling blue you decide to pick up your phone and text Chase to cancel the date. Not that you want to, but your head just wasn’t in the right place to go out. Even through the guilt of saying yes to Chase to get over Spencer, you thought this would be good for you, but it has only resulted in disappointment. Spencer should be happy for you! But it is obvious that this has affected him negatively. But why? Unless… no it can’t be.

A knock at the door pulled you out of your thoughts. Checking your phone it read 6:17 p.m.

“Huh?” you thought out loud.

Looking through the peephole you notice Spencer at the doorstep. Albeit sweaty like he ran a marathon, curls sticking out each and every way, you answer the door.

“Spencer? What are you doing here? Are you okay?”

Bending down to put his hands on his knees he holds up a finger to catch his breath. Finally waiting for a beat he straightens up.

“Don’t go.” He puts simply.

“What? Spencer.. What are you talking about? The date?” you say heart hammering against your ribs. This is actually happening right?

“Yes the date Y/N. Don’t play dumb. I can’t sit here and know you're going out with him Y/N. I… I love you. And I know it has taken me way too long to admit it but I thought about the future you could have with him, and to be honest that should be me there in that image, not him. I’m sorry if this is bad timing or if I’m too late, but I don’t care. I had to come here and tell you before I lost my nerve. I love you Y/N.”

You sat there mouth gaping open, staring him in the eyes. It felt like you just jumped into a freezing lake. Body frozen and heart hammering in your ears. Apparently this is the wrong move because Spencer noticed this reaction and turned to walk out the front door.

“SPENCER WAIT!” you called out to him. It was now or never too.

“I cancelled the date.”

“What?”

“Spencer, I cancelled the date. After I saw how you were acting, I.. don’t know… I felt guilty? Maybe it's because I’m trying to get you out of my mind. And I felt guilty for using Chase because Spencer, I am hopelessly in love with you. I mean unfathomably so. I just didn’t know you felt the same that’s why I never said anything. And I’d be lying if I hadn’t thought of the future with you in it Spence. I love you Spencer.” you say walking over to him grabbing his hands, intertwining fingers.

You never even noticed the tears in your eyes while you stared into his. The world seemed to melt around you as he leaned in locking his lips with yours. Salty tears mixed with the taste of him and everything felt right. It felt safe and normal.

You pulled away both of you smiling ear to ear as you wiped away the tears on his cheek. Leaning back in to place a chaste kiss on his lips.

“So what you’re saying is you have no plans for the evening?” Spencer so cheekily replied.

“Only with you.” You grin back with a soft chuckle pulling him to your couch for a long overdue Doctor Who marathon filled with cuddles and soft kisses.

#first fanfic #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #new writers corner #matthew gray gubler #mgg #female reader #im so soft #fluffwhore #derek morgan #emily prentiss #aaron hotchner

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mortedeveles · 4 years

Text

Model For Me

HERE: PART FIVE.

PART ONE. PART TWO. PART THREE. PART FOUR. PART SIX.

Summary: Y/N has always been a timid and awkward person and artist when it comes to social interactions and it only gets worse when she asks her crush and best friend, Katsuki Bakugou, to model for her.

And not just any type of modelling; Y/N needs to do a composition of a nude male body. Luckily for her, Katsuki’s personality is anything but shy and he doesn’t hesitate to undress in front of her. It’s for art, he says. But something tells Y/N that the boy has hidden and devious intentions, intentions that she has to unravel and discover.

Genre: fluff, humor, suggestive content (a wee bit of NSFW themes)

TW: cursing, sexual themes, nudity.

Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x fem!artist!reader

________

QUIRK: LIQUIFY! Y/N can manipulate any type of liquid to her advantage and can also melt inanimate objects, but doesn’t work on animals, plants, or people. And at night time she can make any type of liquid into a solid!

_________

a/n: hellooo! i have an AUTHOR’S NOTE at the end and I would appreciate if you guys took the time to read it! as always, please leave a like, follow, reblog and/or comment if you enjoyed! i really appreciate it!

I don't like Katsuki.

I don’t like Katsuki.

We're just... friends.

You kept repeating the words in your head for a week, but it was useless. You were lying to yourself and you knew it- the feelings you had for Katsuki weren't platonic.

They had never been platonic, perhaps at the beginning of your friendship they were, but not anymore.

Since your last modeling session, you did your best to stay under the radar and avoid Katsuki. What he had said was simple and true, but whenever you recalled the moment, you wanted to scream. Maybe avoiding him wasn't the best idea- considering the fact that he hated being ignored, but you couldn't handle being close to him.

You had been perfectly aware that you had a crush on Katsuki but when he stated that you two weren't anything, why were you trying so hard to convince yourself you didn't like him?

Every glance you shot his way made your heart ache. Watching from a distance only reminded you of reality- you're nothing to him. Just a friend.

You were a friend and nothing else. He was way out of your league- you would never be able to tangle your life with his.

He was one of the top three of 1A, possessed a marvelous quirk and although he could have murderous tendencies, his determination and strength left you breathless.

But...you? You were only becoming a Pro Hero because your parents had pressured you into it and you didn't have a choice. If it was up to you, you would be a professional artist. Liquify wasn't an extraordinary quirk, compared to Katsuki's.

You were nothing compared to him.

These negative and insecure thoughts flooded your mind for the next few days, and without even realizing, you had placed some distance between your friends and yourself, including Katsuki.

It was Wednesday and throughout the entire school day you had escaped from Katsuki- twice. Today you had your art class and you desperately needed to talk to Aneko.

If you could talk to someone- Aneko in particular- about your current situation, you knew that it would remove the invisible weight from your shoulders.

Ranting out loud had always helped you calmed down and it was just what you needed today. Though, the interactions you avoided with Katsuki today were making you feel more stressed and overwhelmed by the minute.

When the final school bell rang, you blocked out any noise and began to pack your materials quickly. You didn't notice how Katsuki called out for you twice and how there was a glimpse of sadness on his face before it was quickly replaced by an angered expression. Or how Mina was carefully watching the scene.

You were a foot away from stepping out of school grounds when a pair of familiar warm and heavy hands clamped down on your shoulders.

You practically ran out of the school buildings and picked up your speed when you heard Katsuki's explosions. By the sounds of it, he was not happy.

You can do it, you thought. If you can just make it to the end of the day without talking to him, everything will be fine.

''Fucking hell!'' he growled. ''Do I always have to grab you like this, you shitty girl?!'' you were used to Katsuki's shouts and insults, but this time his words made you flinch.

No, no! You wanted to scream. I can't face Katsuki today, not right now! Why can't he leave me alone?!

Your body froze on the spot, but you refused to turn around. One look at his bright red eyes would render you useless.

''Why the fuck won't you look at me?!'' he forcefully turned you around but you struggled to meet his gaze.

''I...I'm...,'' your face was burning out of embarrassment but just as you predicted, your heart ached when you met his gaze.

He was so, so close to you and yet, so far out of your reach.

''I have to go,'' you murmured and tugged his hands away from your shoulders.

Katsuki stared at you with a bewildered look and you grew painfully aware of the sudden audience you had. Several students were near you, watching the scene develop as they giggled and murmured with each other.

''Hah?!" despite the aggressiveness in his tone, Katsuki dropped his hands and glared daggers at your head as you walked away.

You didn't dare look back and your entire body was tense- fearing that Katsuki would shout or chase after you. But once you took notice that he did neither, you felt your body relax.

Though, Katsuki never took his eyes off you. He watched you with a peculiar expression as you fled from the school.

Once you arrived at the train station and stepped into the train, you sat down and pressed your palm over your heart. It was racing and the thumping of your heart roared in your ears.

''Everything will be okay,'' you murmured to yourself. You made sure to keep your voice low enough so no one besides yourself could hear.

''You'll get through this.''

When the train roared to life and the journey to the recreative center begun, you closed your eyes and doze off to the sound of your heart beat.

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

''Y/N. Let me see your progress,'' you quickly handed over your art piece to your teacher. She hummed and pushed her glasses onto the bridge of her nose, raking her eyes over the details that held all your effort.

''It's looking beautiful so far, Y/N,'' you smiled and clasped your hands together. Her compliment made your heart swell.

''Thank you, miss!" you outstretched your hands to receive your artwork but faltered when your teacher frowned and stared closely at your work.

''Is this...this boy seems very familiar...'' she murmured. You felt panic invade your veins and you discretely took your artwork with a shrug.

''Maybe you've seen him on TV, miss! I wouldn't know, he's just a friend of mine...,'' you laughed awkwardly and quickly stashed your work into your backpack. Aneko was watching the two of you with a mischievous smile and once your teacher nodded and stepped away to attend other students, she laughed loudly.

''Afraid that sensei is going to steal your boyfriend?'' she winked but you felt your stomach drop at her words. ''Don't worry, he only has eyes for you,'' she crooned. You groaned in response and shook your head.

''I don't want to hear about Katsuki again,'' you grumbled angrily. Aneko frowned and crossed her arms.

''Wait, why? Is everything okay between the two of you?''

Your hand faltered and hovered above your backpack and you swallowed visibly.

''I...I don't know,'' you murmured and sighed loudly.

Aneko frowned and clutched your hand, squeezing it comfortingly.

''I would really like that.''

''If you want to talk about it, I can come over today,'' the teasing tone in her voice had quickly left and there was nothing but concern and understanding in her voice.

You smiled and nodded.

Half an hour later, you find yourself sitting on your bed. Aneko is sitting next to you as the two of you munch on unhealthy snacks.

''So?'' Aneko asked between bites. ''What's up?''

You sighed and dropped the snack on the bed. This would take long.

''As you know, I've had feelings for Katsuki for like, since the beginning of studying at U.A. We've only been friends and that's okay with me, but something changed in the last session.'' you let out another dramatic sigh and grab a chip.

''Actually, since the second session, Katsuki has been acting a bit weird...'' you grumbled and crossed your arms. ''He's been oddly quiet and sometimes even distant and well, mom was home in our last session.''

You heard Aneko choke and splutter. Her reaction made you laugh and shake your head in amusement.

''Oh my god,'' Aneko cackled. ''What did your mom say?!''

Nervously, you scratched your head and slumped your shoulders.

''There's the problem. Um... so we were having dinner together, and my mom asked us if we were a couple of and-,'' you were interrupted by Aneko's loud laughter.

''Jesus!" she wheezed and turned over in your bed. You snickered. ''Did she really say that?''

Your face warmed up at the memory and you nodded. ''Yeah! It was really embarrassing. Anyways...'' you faltered and lowered your voice. ''The thing is, I just said and Katsuki well, he said that we weren't dating. But when he said that, I don't know why it hurt so much? His tone was so cold and firm...'' You groaned and buried your head in your hands.

''I don't know what's wrong with me,'' your words were muffled behind your hands.

You heard Aneko sigh and gently remove your hands from your face.

''Nothing's wrong with you, babe. You like the guy, and that’s why it hurts,'' she offered you a smile.

''Tomorrow's our last session and I don't know what to do.''

Aneko hummed in response. She grinned deviously and clasped her hands together.

''Well then, that's it! Tomorrow, you should confess your feelings at the end of the session,''

Your mouth went dry and you swallowed thickly.

''What?'' was the first thing that came to you. ''No, I can't do that...''

Aneko sighed and cradled your face between her hands, making your cheeks look squishy.

''You can and you will, honey. The boy likes you, that's obvious. You should at least tell him how you feel,'' Aneko's gazed drifted away but quickly returned to you, this time with a grin on her lips. ''And who knows? You'll probably score a date for the weekend!" she shot you a wink.

''Just relax, Y/N. Don't overthink it. He likes you, and everything will be perfectly fine. Okay?'' she smiled softly.

You nodded and inhaled deeply. Aneko was right. You were stressing over nothing! Tomorrow would be the last session and by the end of it, you would make sure that your feelings were known to Katsuki.

But knowing your luck, things wouldn't go as planned.

''You're right,'' you forced a smile. ''There's nothing to worry about.''

hi guys! can’t believe i have 100 follows this fast. i really appreciate all the fb and support i receive from everyone <3 to celebrate 100 followers, i will be OPENING my REQUESTS! here’s some of the basic information;

-i will open my requests for 5-8 slots

-i will share a prompt list and you can choose a number, character and whatsover!

-my requests will be available for MHA and JJBA.

reminder: my requests are not open YET. i will post an individual post with all the details explained! this is just like an intro. if you’re interested, stick around to stay updated! xx

TAG LIST: @bakugou-is-my-daddy @justanotherlifeff @seokookchan @playboygeniusphilanthropist @awwjesus-gross @jenna-sakura @mykuronekome @ggclarissa @irenevyas @mrstodorooki @warmchoccymilk @coupsieddori @yikerb DM me if you want to be on my taglist or if I forgot to add you!!

#veles' writing #my hero academy fanfiction #my writing #reader insert #my hero fanfic #mha x reader #bnha bakugou #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki #fanfiction #mha x y/n #my hero academia

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violetwolfraven · 4 years

Text

Pass Out

38 for sprace—requested by @just-a-gay-meme

I’m injured and I came to you because I didn’t want to tell my mom/Jack/whoever.

((So I guess this would be canon era, pre-strike when Race was selling at Sheepshead, so he and Spot did know each other, but they aren’t really even friends yet. It’s not the same universe as the one fic I’ve written with her in it, but it includes one of my ocs. Don’t worry, you didn’t forget about her. Bluebird just isn’t canon.))

...

Race would normally not be confused by the fact that he was waking up in a Lodging House, but today, he had an excuse, because he was waking up in the Brooklyn Lodging House.

“Well, well, well,” a voice said, and Race jumped, “He lives.”

There was a little girl sitting by his bed, holding a bowl and a wet washcloth that was suspiciously red, and Race didn’t think it was because that was Brooklyn’s territory color.

And Race was only 15, but this girl couldn’t be any older than maybe 10, so he got to call her a little girl, even though, as was visible because she was wearing one of Brooklyn’s signature red tanktops, she was probably stronger than he was. She had features kind of similar to Romeo, with black hair and brown eyes, so Race guessed she was Asian, or at least one of her parents was.

“What the fuck?” Race mumbled under his breath.

“Oh, no,” the little girl said, sounding genuinely concerned, “How hard did you get hit? How many fingers am I holding up?”

“Three,” Race said, because she clearly was.

“Hmm...” the little girl tilted her head as she put her hand down, “Do ya remember how you got here?”

“Brooklyn Lodging House? No. Got no clue. What the fuck am I doin’ here?”

“You got your ass kicked,” the little girl said flatly, “At least, I think ya did. You kinda just showed up, asked for help, and passed out. That was two hours ago.”

“Thanks,” Race said, “Um... what was your name again?”

“Bluebird. Ya didn’t know it in the first place. You’re Racetrack Higgins, right? The ‘Hattan boy Spot lets sell at Sheepshead?”

Race shrugged sitting up halfway and leaning back on his elbows, “The one and only.”

Bluebird wrinkled her nose, “No wonder ya got your ass kicked. All you Manhattan boys can’t fight to save your lives.”

“Hey!”

“It’s true! Manhattan’s probably the—“

“Blue.”

Bluebird looked at the floor as Spot called to her from the doorway.

Race sat up all the way as Brooklyn’s King walked over, putting his hand on the little girl’s shoulder.

“What did we say ‘bout antagonizin’ people for no reason?” Spot asked.

“To not to,” Bluebird mumbled.

“You’s a big girl, now, right, Blue? Your cute factor ain’t gonna get you out of fights much longer. Ya gotta learn not to pick fights you can’t win.”

“Bet I could win against him.”

Race laughed, “She’s probably right.”

“Maybe,” Spot reasoned, “But, Blue, appearances can be deceivin’. Race, here, happens to be really good at makin’ friends. Which means he has friends in every borough, this one included. Half the Newsies of New York’d go to war to defend him, so in short, Racetrack Higgins is either a good friend to have or a bad enemy. Take your pick.”

Bluebird snuck a glance at Race, “I’d rather be friends.”

Race smiled, “I’d rather be friends with you, too, kid.”

She smiled at him, and Race didn’t at all see what Spot meant. She wasn’t losing her cute factor. She probably wouldn’t for a couple more years.

“Run along, Bluebird,” Spot said, “I think Hotshot’s waitin’ for ya.”

“I’m sellin’ with Rafaela today!”

“Raf’s... busy. Go find Hotshot.”

“Okay!”

Bluebird hiked up her skirt to run faster, and Race laughed.

“So, I’m guessin’ I know what you meant by busy?”

Spot shrugged, “Yeah, she’s got a sweetheart, but I don’t know who it is. I’m pretty sure it’s either York or Joey, but Raf ain’t the talkative type, so I don’t know which. She asked me to watch Blue this afternoon, but I don’t need a little frontin’ for me.”

“And Hotshot does?”

“He’s an intimidatin’ lookin’ kid. He probably don’t need her, but with winter comin’ up, I’d rather be safe.”

Race nodded, then winced as that hurt, “That makes sense.”

Spot stood there silently for a couple seconds, then asked.

“So, what happened?”

Race shrugged, “Wish I knew. Thinkin’ back, it’s all kind of fuzzy.”

“There’s been some thugs ‘round Brooklyn lately, thinkin’ it’s funny to beat up on workin’ kids,” Spot muttered, “They targeted my kids at first, but learned to avoid us when we soaked them instead. I probably should have sent someone over to warn ya. Bluebird’s right. Only one of you Manhattan boys who can fight good is Cowboy.”

Race decided to ignore that last comment, “I don’t think I got soaked.”

“Hmm. You’re probably right. It’s just the one head wound, right? Nothin’ else hurts?”

Race shrugged, “It hurts to breathe a little, but...”

He looked down his own shirt to check.

“Not that many bruises.”

“I should check for broken ribs, anyway.”

Race honestly didn’t know what to think as Spot Conlon, the King of Brooklyn, sat down on the edge of the bed Race was still sitting on, putting up one hand.

“Can I? I know what I’m doin’.”

“I’m sure ya do,” Race admitted, knowing Brooklyn’s reputation for getting in fights with local gangs, other boroughs, even each other.

Of course, his mind was hyper-focused on the fact that Spot wasn’t known for being friendly, and he also happened to be less than a year older than Race.

He was kind of attractive. If Race was the type to go for badasses, he would be very flustered right now, which... he wasn’t. He totally wasn’t even a little flustered by this.

In the end, Race nodded, “You can check, but I’m pretty sure nothin’s broken.”

“Okay. Tell me what hurts.”

Spot gently put his hand against Race’s lower ribs, slowly increasing pressure before moving up, then checking the other side. And sure, it twinged in some places, but nothing hurt enough to actually be broken.

“Why’re you helpin’ me?” Race asked as Spot finished up.

The other boy shrugged, “Ya ain’t one of mine, Higgins, but you sell in Brooklyn. That makes ya at least partly my responsibility.”

Race wanted to protest that—he was one of Jack’s seconds, for fuck’s sake—but Spot was still talking.

“Also, that head wound wasn’t so bad that ya forgot what borough you’re from. If you really wanted to go back to ‘Hattan, you at least would’ve tried. Probably gotten run over on the way, but you’d have tried. Ya came here. Judgin’ by what little I know... you’s close with Kelly, right?”

Race nodded, “He’s like a big brother to me.”

Spot shrugged, “There ya go. Winter’s rough on every leader who actually cares about their kids, and it’s comin’ up fast. Jackie Boy’s probably stressed enough as it is, makin’ sure everyone sells as much as they can before it gets really hard, and ya didn’t want to worry him. So, you came here instead of goin’ home.”

Honestly, that sounded about right. Race still didn’t remember everything, but not going home when hurt so as not to worry Jack sounded like something he’d do.

“Well, that explains what I’m doin’ here,” he admitted, “But it doesn’t explain why ya actually helped.”

“Like I said, you’s partially my responsibility.”

“Bullshit. I’m Manhattan and you know it. Hell, I’m second in command along with Crutchie. Ya didn’t have to help me beyond makin’ sure I don’t die on your doorstep, so why? Do ya just want me to owe you a favor?”

Spot shrugged, not looking Race in the eye, “I might collect a favor later, but that ain’t why I did it.”

“Then why?”

They locked eyes, and Race could see that he was being completely serious.

“Genuinely nice people are few and far between. Bluebird ain’t the only one who’d like to be friends with you.”

Race smiled, “Well, if ya wanted to be friends, you could’ve just said so. I’m always open to new friends.”

Spot snorted, “One of these days, that’s gonna get ya killed.”

“Possibly... but I should probably be gettin’ back to Manhattan. Before I do, I have one question to ask you.”

“What?”

Race pointed vaguely at a throbbing area just above his temple, not wanting to actually touch it.

“How bad is it?”

“Your hair covers it, mostly, and Blue cleaned off the blood. It ain’t super noticeable, so if you avoid Cowboy for a bit to give it time to heal, he probably won’t have to find out.”

“Okay, great. Thanks, I guess. Thank Bluebird for me.”

“I will.”

Spot stayed close as Race stood up, probably expecting to have to catch him.

Race didn’t actually feel that bad. His head hurt, sure, but he didn’t feel like he was going to pass out anymore.

“I usually hang out under the stands when I take a break from sellin’,” he said, “If ya ever wanna... hang out, or whatever, come find me.”

Spot nodded, “Yeah. Sure. Maybe I will.”

Honestly, given that Spot Conlon was known for being hostile to pretty much everyone outside of Brooklyn, Race hadn’t expected to ever be able to befriend him. He was friendly on the rare occasion they saw each other, but he’d always seen Spot as kind of cold and distant.

Maybe it was just being in his own Lodging House—home turf—that made him drop his guard a little.

Whatever the case, Race couldn’t deny that a part of him was thinking about how if he could be friends with Spot Conlon, maybe he could slowly get closer and maybe even be more someday, but—

But this was a thought train for another day.

Well, this should be interesting.

#newsies #sprace #spot conlon #racetrack higgins #race x spot #violet’s writing

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give-seconds · 4 years

Text

Back To You

Summary: You and Mark are all each other have, he’s easily the most important person to you. But something happens and you both are slowly separated, so you work your hardest to be accepted into a college in Korea so you can find your way back to a home with him again.

Masterlist | Main Masterlist

I hope this makes up for how boring the other chapters were, I didn’t really know how to set it up. But now I have a decent idea what I want to do! Just some info for this chapter, Johnny is two years older than Mark rather than four. Also the bold is like a flashback (for lack of a better word). Enjoy!!

---Part 4

Four years ago

“Okay,” Mrs. Lee says, pushing the door open to their apartment. “We’re home!”

The Lees managed to convince the police to let you spend the night in their care while they try to set you up in a foster home nearby. So now, you and Mark are nervously walking behind the Lee’s as they lead you into the apartment.

“Mom?”

You and Mark freeze, awkwardly standing in the space between the kitchen and the living room. A boy is standing in the hallway, he's maybe a few years older than you both. He's staring at Mark as if he can’t quite believe it, as if Mark will disappear as soon he turns anyway or even blinks.

“Oh John,” Mrs. Lee happily cries. “It’s him, it’s really him.”

“I cannot wait to tell you what you’ve missed,” John whispers, walking towards you both slowly. He stops in front of Mark, eyeing him up and down with watery eyes. A small smile spreads across his face, and he pulls Mark into a hug. “I’ve missed you so much, we’re all so glad you’re back.”

Mark turns his head to nervously glance at you, arms hanging awkwardly at his sides. You look over to the Lees who are smiling fondly at the scene from the opposite side of the room. You catch Mrs. Lee's eyes, who averts her eyes back to the boys and says something in that foreign language.

In response, John lets go of Mark and smiles down at him apologetically. “We’ll talk more after you get settled in, yeah?”

“Um, sure,” Mark mumbles, scratching the back of his neck.

John shoots you a smile, before looking over to his parents

“Okay, now let's go look at your room.” Mrs. Lee announces, motioning for you both to follow as she walks down the hall. From behind you, you hear John ask Mr. Lee a question. In response, you hear Mr. Lee say your name. His voice has a hateful edge to it, but maybe that’s just how he talks about people he doesn't know very well.

“So the room might be a bit messy- we only started redecorating a few days ago,” Mrs. Lee explains, looking around the room.

“It looks great, what was it before? I hope you didn’t have to give up anything of yours just to make a room for me,” Mark says shyly, looking around the room to avoid her eyes.

“Oh no,” she answers quietly. “This has always been your room. Joon-Young and I just never had the heart to change it from the room you had when you were three.”

She rubs her arms as if she were cold, smiling fondly. A silence falls around the room as she looks around the newly furnished room, equipped with a queen-sized bed, two bedside tables, and a fancy looking wood dresser. This room has everything a comfortable room should have, even more. Well, everything except the feeling of home.

Clearing her throat, she shakes her head and motions to the dresser. “There are clothes for you in the there, we also bought you a toothbrush that is under the bathroom sink. You can just open the package and take out a new one. Y/n, as we did not expect you to be joining us tonight, we don’t have a place for you to stay. So if you don’t mind sleeping on the couch-”

“It’s okay ma’am, she can sleep with me,” Mark interrupts, looking up to meet her eyes.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” she answers hesitantly.

“It’ll really be okay, we’ve done it before. We grew up together, it’s not like this is the first time we’d be sharing a bed,” Mark states, offering a friendly smile.

She meets his stare, face hard to read. Then, something changes and her face softens. She sighs, looking away from him and instead at the wall behind him. “I guess that’s okay, it’s just for tonight anyway.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Lee,” you say quietly, afraid that if you speak too loudly you’ll remind her that she doesn't like you and change her mind.

She nods her head before turning around to open the door. “Ready to finish the tour?”

“Okay, well dinner will be ready soon, John is a pretty good cook now. I’ll call you when it’s ready,” Mrs. Lee says, opening the door to the bedroom for you two.

“Okay, thank you.”

She nods her head, sending Mark a longing look before retreating to the kitchen.

“I don’t think I can do this,” you admit as soon as Mark closes the door.

“What do you mean?” Mark asks, moving to sit on the bed.

“What do I mean?” You repeat, laughing sarcastically. “I mean, this family hates me. Mrs. Lee only bothers to include you in the conversations, I’m convinced that if I say anything she’ll throw me out in the blink of an eye. I’m only here because you refused to come here without me.” You can feel Mark’s eyes on you as you pace the length of the bed, arms hugging your sides for some comfort. “And then there is Mr. Lee, who hates me. Haven’t you heard the way he talks about me? I guarantee you by the time they ship me out to whatever a foster home is, John will hate me too. And that’s not to mention the fact that our dad has been arrested and no one is telling us anything.”

Looking at him, you stop pacing as you process the emotion in his eyes. Empathy. Straightening your back, you meet his eyes while trying to make any trace of anxiety disappear from your own. If your dad had taught you anything, it was not to let others feel the need to give you looks of pity or anything resembling it. Normally, Mark is the exception. But now, you both are in uncharted lands. Now isn't the time for empathy.

“I’ll be honest, I don’t know what to say. I’m just as confused as you are, but what can we do? Everyone has painted us to be victims, they’re not going to listen to what we have to say. I think our best bet is to entertain the idea that I am their son, and maybe if we do that well enough they won’t make you leave.”

You wrap your arms around yourself again, letting out a defeated sigh “Mark, we both know that isn’t going to happen. You heard Mrs. Lee, she said that even if they were able to take me in they wouldn’t. All they see me as is the daughter of the man who ‘took’ you, and I can’t live like that Mark. I can’t have these people see me as the villain, I won’t live like that.”

“Then I don’t know, y/n,” he grumbles. “I don’t understand what’s happening either, and like I said, I don’t think they’re going to listen to anything we have to say. So what do you want me to do?”

Rolling your eyes, you suppress a scoff. “Listen, I know this is stressful, but don’t talk to me like that. I don’t expect you to do anything Mark, I’m just talking and hoping that if we talk we can somewhat figure this out. So maybe chill.”

“I don’t know if there is anything to figure out. We don’t know what to do. We’re practically helpless, so I’m sorry if it seems like I’m annoyed. I just can’t stand the idea that these people who have never met us are now deciding how we live our life.”

“What-”

“Dinner’s ready.”

“First bus leaves at 4:45 am,” you mumble, folding the paper back in half and putting it into your back pocket. You flip your phone over: 4:41 am.

I haven’t had a dream about that time of my life in a long time. Closing your eyes and leaning back against the bus stop walls, you take a deep breath. Maybe it’s because I started writing again.

You open your eyes, looking up into the sky. Mark, I don’t know what I’m going to do if I don’t find you.

You bring your head level with the street as you hear the whoosh of the bus pull up next to you.

“Little early, isn’t it?” The bus driver smiles at you as you pull yourself into the bus.

It takes you a second to understand what he said, so you just smile politely, willing your brain to work so early in the morning. “Ah,” you exclaim quietly, understanding the question. “I guess so, but back home it’s only around one in the afternoon.”

“Oh, where are you from?”

“Canada -I’m here for school.”

The bus driver chuckles, looking over his shoulder before pulling out into the main road. “I know, I picked you up from the school bus stop.”

“Ah,” you look away in embarrassment.

“So, where are you going this early?”

“I don’t really know, I just want to see the city before my friend takes me out. Just to get an idea, you know?”

He nods his head, looking up to meet your eyes through the mirror. “A lot of the cafes around here open at 5:30, so maybe stop by there until more stuff opens up?”

“I might, thank you. Do you think you could tell me which stop to get off at if I want to visit my friend who lives on Umanansangil?”

“Umanansangil? In two stops there is a bus stop on the street.”

“Okay, thank you.”

You lean back against the seat, a silence filling the bus. After you and Mark had been taken away from your dad, you’ve loved the mornings. Sure, waking up is a challenge. But being able to go out and be surrounded by people who are too tired to care about you reminds you of when you and Mark still lived together. Where you guys are from, no one would look twice at you.

“Have a good day, sir,” you say, pulling out the appropriate amount of cash.

“You too.”

You step off the bus, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear as you look around the empty streets. You pull out your phone, copying the address you have in your notes and pasting it into Naver Maps.

“Oh, how I miss Google Maps,” you sigh, struggling to read the Korean instructions.

“Ah-ha!” you cheer, successfully starting the directions.

As you make your way down the street, blindly following the colored path on your phone you can’t help the giddy feeling grow with each step. Waking up this morning, the urge to be near him started to grow. While getting ready this morning, a sense of excitement had blossomed. You realize that you’re not going to see him this early, but you’ll be there. You’ll get to be where he is, and that’s enough for right now.

Only now, standing in front of the building, you’re not sure why you came. “This was a dumb, impulsive decision.” You stare up at the living complex looming over you. “And now, all you feel is anxious. Good job y/n. A+.”

You rub your hands together, looking up to the brightening sky. “Why’d you have to make this so hard, Markie?”

You shake your head, turning around and walking back in the direction you came. You made sure to take note of a cafe that was setting up the first time you had passed.

When you get to the cafe, unsurprisingly it’s empty save for the workers tiredly cleaning the tables.

The worker at the counter looks surprised to see you, but smiles nevertheless as you approach the counter. “What can I get for you?”

“Um, may I have a hot chocolate?”

Tapping the screen, she looks up at you smiling. “Is that all?”

You nod your head, pulling your card out of your back pocket and handing it to her to swipe.

Once you pay, she turns around to start making your drink. Leaning against the counter, you look at the variety of drinks hung on the wall. The first time you had come to one of these shops, you had been amazed that someone knew what to do with this many different liquids. You and Mark had made a promise to try all the drinks at the cafe near his apartment. You guys barely made it through half the menu.

Standing back up, you thank the cashier as she hands you the drink while wishing you a ‘fantastic’ day. Whatever that means.

Turning around, you start walking towards a table you had seen when you had first walked in. The door swings open, and your attention is drawn to a man walking into the cafe. He freezes as he meets your eyes before his hands shoot to move the mask around his chin to cover his face. Strange.

Looking away from the man, you continue your walk to the table. Setting your drink on the table, you pull out the chair facing the window so you’re able to watch the city wake up. That guy was strange, but something about him seems familiar.

“May I sit?”

Speak of the devil. “Um sure.”

“So, what brings you here so early?” he asks casually.

You want to shift in your seat, but stop yourself before you can show him you’re uncomfortable. First, he has to sit at my table, and now he wants to talk? He doesn't have a drink, did he even order? “If it’s all the same to you, I don’t really want to answer that. I don’t know you.”

He nods his head, eyes scanning the walls of the cafe before meeting yours again. “Where are you from?”

You smile shyly, casting your eyes downward as you fidget with the cardboard sleeve around the cup “Canada, is my accent that bad?”

“It’s pretty decent, but as someone who’s around foreigners and Koreans every day, I can hear it.”

You look up at him, surprised he can speak English. “Fair enough. And seeing as this is my first time staying in Korea, I can’t say I’m surprised. Where are you from?”

“I am also from Canada -Vancouver.”

You lean back in your chair, feeling more at ease being able to speak comfortably and without much thought. That, and you’re 88% sure he isn’t here to kill you. “No wonder you seem familiar, I could probably sense that you are a fellow Vancouver citizen. What are you doing up so early, my fellow Canadian?”

“My friends and I have practice, and I drew the short stick in having to go and get everyone coffee.”

You nod your head, taking a sip of your hot chocolate “That must suck, having practice so early in the morning.”

He shrugs his shoulders “I prefer it to having to work late at night. Plus, we have a comeback soon, so that means lots of practice.”

You tilt your head to the side, unsure if you heard him right “Comeback?”

“Oh,” he says, sounding genuinely surprised. “So you came to Korea not to meet your favourite Korean idol?”

“Is that the only reason someone can move to Korea?”

“Well if my family hadn’t moved here when I was younger, that’s why I would’ve moved here.”

Choking on your hot chocolate, you throw your head back, rolling your body to the side and coughing violently into your elbow. The man just laughs softly at your misery.

“Are you serious?” you ask, having recovered from your near-death experience.

“Definitely,” he confirms, nodding his head,

“Okay.” You clear your throat. “So back on topic, are you telling me you’re an idol?”

“Sure am!” he announces, smiling proudly.

“Give me your group name.”

“Sure, it’s LokInNi.”

“And how do you spell that?” you ask, taking out your phone.

“L-o-k-i-n-n-i. Why, do you not believe me?”

“Nope,” you say, popping the p.

“Why not?” he pouts slightly as he sinks into his chair.

“That sounds like a completely made-up word.”

“Because it is.”

Putting your phone on the table, loading screen face-up, you lean back in your chair “And that helps your case, how?”

“Just look at your phone,” he mumbles, waving his hand dismissively towards your phone.

You smile at the childish action, shaking your head as you pick your phone back up to read the group's Wikipedia description.

‘The idol group LokInNi (Lok from the Thai word Thạ̀w lok, in from the Korean word segyejeog-in, and the ni from the Japanese word Sekai-teki ni. These all mean Worldwide) is composed of 12 members from five different countries. Taeyong, Taeil, Johnny, Yuta, Kun, Doyoung, Ten, Jaehyun, WinWin, Jungwoo, XiaoJun, and YangYang.’

You look up at him, nodding your head “Okay, I’ll give it to you that the group exists. But how do I know that this is actually you?”

“Look up a photo of Johnny, that’s me.”

You freeze at the name. It’s gotta be a coincidence, John is a common name for people. Plus, what are the chances that I meet John here in Korea without actively looking for him?

Clicking on a website called ‘Kpop Profiles- Lokinni’, you scroll down to the photo of Johnny. And sure enough, it is the man in front of you.

“Look at that, it is you,” you say quietly, turning your phone around to show him the photo.

“Yep! That’s me, John Lee.”

Sucking in a breath you abruptly stand up from the table, causing your chair to scrape dramatically against the ground. He looks up at you, a questioning look on his face. “You okay?”

“I know you went through something terrible, but you need to hear this. He is my brother, not yours. He’s going to forget you eventually, I’ll make sure of that. You’re not good for him, y/n; you’re only holding him back. So you either cut ties with him, or we’ll cut ties with you. Your choice.”

You nod your head, grabbing your cup from the table “Yeah, sorry. I just remembered that I’m meeting a friend and am about to be late. Good luck with practice.”

You turn around, hoping to get out of the cafe as soon as possible.

“Hey, please wait,” you hear him call, his own chair scraping lightly against the floor.

You freeze, squeezing your eyes shut as you try to force the last words he said to you out of your brain.

“You’re not good for him, y/n; you’re only holding him back.”

“Did I do something to offend you? If I did, I’m sorry.”

You shake your head “Really, I’m fine. Like I said I have to meet someone. So if you don’t mind-”

“Do you need me to walk you? It’s still dark out, and if you’re not comfortable being alone this early my members will understand why I came late.”

“He’ll forget you eventually, I’ll make sure of that.”

You slowly take steps back towards the door, checking over your shoulder every few steps to make sure you don’t run into anything. “I’ll be fine. Plus you shouldn’t deprive eleven people of their coffee.”

“Really, it’s no trouble at all.”

“John I said no,” you snap, wrapping your arms around yourself. “So please, leave me alone.”

You timidly look up at him but look back down once you see the slight trace of hurt on his face. But what you miss, is the recognition that flashes after the hurt. “Okay, I’m sorry I pushed. I just didn’t want anything bad to happen to you, y/n.”

---

I hope the group name wasn’t too outlandish, it just seemed wrong to have NCT without all the members. So I made my own group name! Thank you to @mozartwasajungkookstan, she has helped me make this chapter something I am really proud of. I think this is defenitly the better of what I have posted, so I would really love to know what you guys think! Have a great day/night!!

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#NCT #nct mark #nct haechan #nct scenarios #nct imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #kpop #mark lee x reader #mark lee #lee donghyuck #johnny seo #nct johnny #haechan x reader

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mautlie · 3 years

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headcanon i’ve had in the back of my mind for a while and have referenced in posts before, but going into it more properly and explicitly now.

whenever i write a postgame (and thus ng+ run) pelleas, i always assume he has been chosen to enter the tower of guidance to help fight against ashera. with that, this blog also assumes he engages sephiran in combat given that it directly links to pelleas’s ending where he abdicates the throne. after all, pelleas would keep being king, given that he never wanted to be it but did so out of a sense of responsibility, and the thing that changes this is when he realizes he’s has no actual blood link to the previous king and thus no legitimate claim to the throne. his sense of responsibility is founded on nothing then, and sephiran’s conversation with him is what confirms this truth he had been denying up until then. we see how much pelleas wishes to deny this, given that his a-rank support with elincia has him pretending he still is daein’s rightful king and wants to have her guidance; this support can not be obtained in game until after izuka is the first person to tell pelleas that he is not of royal blood.

so why do i bring this conversation being blog canon to ng+ pelleas? it’s because this conversation has pelleas giving up his typical mild and cowardly manner, expressing pure rage and bloodlust against sephiran.

Pelleas: If you’re the one who’s been pulling the strings behind all this, please tell me… Who… Who am I? Sephiran: …I don’t know. All I know is that you are a powerful practitioner of magic… I know that you were an orphan born and raised in Daein. But that is all Izuka ever told me. Pelleas: So… I’m not Ashnard’s true son? Sephiran: No, you’re not. Ashnard’s son is of dragon tribe blood and is thus Branded. Pelleas: I think I’m going to be ill… Sephiran: Be assured that you were essential to Daein’s reconstruction, which was a vital step toward waking the goddess. Fortunately, Izuka was able to use you to execute my plan. Pelleas: You are going to pay! You are going to…BLAAARRRGH!

compare this to any other scene pelleas shows up in or even his boss conversation against lekain just a few maps earlier:

Pelleas: Vi-Vice-Minister Lekain… Lekain: Hm? Ahhh, still alive, are we? I suppose that I can still find a use for you… I know! Go and attack the enemy general. Pelleas: Um… Lekain: Why are you not obeying, fool? That look on your face… You think you’re going to save your people! That is precious! You can’t possibly believe that one so flawed as you has a prayer against me? Pelleas: I do, actually. Lekain: Whaaat?! Did I hear you correctly?! Pelleas: I said I believe. I believe in myself, and I believe in my companions. Even if I falter and fail… My friends will defeat you. This belief sustains me. I can fight you because I am no longer alone. Lekain: Let us test your theory, then! Die, upstart!

lekain is the one who most directly threatens pelleas whilst sephiran hadn’t had any direct presence in pelleas’s life prior to this. if anything, pelleas’s ire would be most appropriately placed upon lekain, but he keeps himself so much more comparatively calm despite this. pelleas is thus not bad at tempering his rage, yet against sephiran, he absolutely loses it.

given that pelleas is canonically a spirit charmer, this means he derives his strong magical powers by sacrificing his soul to the spirit he has made a pact with. every time he casts a spell, a little of his soul is exchanged. he must control himself in order to keep as much of his soul as in-tact as possible, but there is an evident lack of restraint displayed by him against sephiran. he had the full intent to kill him, and so it is unlikely he would hold back with his spells against him. he would have given up a lot of his soul to try and see sephiran dead by his own hands.

as such, i headcanon that pelleas after surviving the tower of guidance to barely have his soul. abdicating the throne then is a decision fueled by multiple factors: pelleas is stressed out as king, he greatly envies micaiah and believes her to be better than him, he wishes the best for daein and genuinely believes he has fucked it up too much, he feels guilty for lying to people by not being daein’s rightful heir, and he knows even if he is to spend more time on the throne, there is a high chance he will either die young or lose what little is left of his soul. if he stays there, daein could at any point be ruled by a king whose body is a soulless husk for the spirit he has sold himself for. pelleas’s body may still exist but it will not truly be him, and this could end problematically for his country.

daein must not be led to ruin once more after all the effort that went into attaining peace for it. he will not allow himself to be the reason for calamity within it again.

this large loss of his soul manifests itself in some clues others can potentially pick up as well. more than ever, he tries to combat against and deny every negative emotion he has ranging from rage to jealousy. he avoids casting magic including both combative and healing. the biggest visual clue, however, is the fact his irises have lost their light. they look so empty and dark, as if he were already a dead man walking, and there is nothing he can do to gain their shine as far as he knows.

#// seeing some ppl i write pelleas with write his eyes as being extremely dark without me even telling them abt this hc --#// -- is a neat coincidence haha #// also yes i wrote this long ass thing just to justify the last part BUT LISTEN #// I JUST.. .write my metas with the assumption that not everyone reads my other hcs or meta posts so i gotta go Long i'm sorry amskhmgrkmrg #+. / hcs & metas.#+. / pirrhyc ( muse: pelleas. )#long post ---

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firefeufuego · 4 years

Text

allegrezza: chapter two

Inspired by the prompt ‘Media Adaption’ for RebelCaptain Appreciation Week, I thought I’d bang out another chapter of the coda to my Mozart in the Jungle crossover. Enjoy!

‘Tepoztlán’, the voice of the driver carries down the bus as it comes to a stop and Jyn stands and reaches for her bag before stepping off into Cassian’s hometown. It’s a bit odd to be here without him, but the orchestra’s delayed flight out of Rio left her with an extra day in her little surprise trip to Mexico and there’s something here she wants to do alone.

Tapping in her destination on her phone, she sets off through the streets of the picturesque town, nestled in a valley between the soaring cliff sides of lushly forested mountains. Jyn’s less interested in the landscapes and architecture than the people though, because everywhere she looks, she sees a younger Cassian — in the two boys kicking a football back and forth that could be him and Rodrigo, or the babbling toddler sitting on his father’s shoulders.

There’s a bittersweet heaviness to those fond invented memories that mirrors the ache she feels when she thinks of her own childhood, those early years of happiness making the subsequent loss cut all the deeper.

Still, better than to have never been happy at all, as Cassian would say if he were here. She misses him, even more than she has done for the past month that they’ve both been touring.

She’s supposed to be in Belgium now before setting off for the last leg of the tour in Germany, but the thought of not being there when Cassian played his first professional concert in Mexico (a concert that he and Rodrigo had been stressing each other out over for months) was unacceptable. Or so she’d thought after a bottle of wine in her empty hotel room before shelling out more money than she’d rather think about for last minute flights.

Her phone buzzes in her hand, telling her she’s reached her destination. There’s a stand selling flowers near the entrance and she buys the two most expensive bouquets, feeling strangely nervous about first impressions even though the people she’s buying them for could literally not care less.

After a few minutes scanning the rows of stones, she finds them.

Jeron Andor Lopez and Charlotte McMillan share a simple headstone, engraved with a short message about Cassian and — Jyn notes with a smile — a few of the best bars of the Brahms sonata.

Laying down the flowers, she gets the water bottle and a packet of tissues out of her bag and sets about cleaning the dirt and dust off of the stone, which looks as if it had gone unvisited in some time. She knows Cassian is never able to visit as often as he wants to and he has no other living family in Mexico, which is why he had to move to the US to live with his mother’s dour brother after the accident.

Once she’s done scrubbing, she drinks the rest of the water and sits beside the newly gleaming granite, looking around to check that she’s alone before clearing her throat awkwardly. ‘Hello. My name is Jyn Erso and I’m in love with your son.’ She pauses for a minute, tracing Cassian’s name. ‘You would be so proud of him, he’s just— he’s the best person. I feel like I should thank you both, for, you know, making him. I’m, um, I’m going to ask him to marry me soon, actually, which is kind of why I’m here. I think that if you knew me, and how I hurt him, you probably wouldn’t trust me with him. There are days when I don’t really trust myself with him. But I promise, on every grave in this place, that I will spend every day of the rest of my life trying to make him happy. And if I don’t, you can feel free to strike me down with whatever powers you have at your disposal.’

There’s no sudden burst of sun or gust of wind that she might imagine into a response, but the sense of duty that brought her here still feels satisfied. She feels the weight of responsibility of making that promise to the only other people who loved Cassian as much as her, but it feels grounding — more like an anchor than a burden.

After another few minutes of thoughtful silence, Jyn murmurs a goodbye and starts toward the second place she’d come here to see.

Maestro Rivera’s music conservatory is a gorgeous old building, bustling with young students lugging around instrument cases that are still just a bit big for them. There’s a particular kind of cacophony that only comes from music schools and makes her miss Yavin fiercely.

More than a few of the students recognise her and excitedly ask for selfies and after a few minutes of increasingly awkward smiling and being maneuvered within various configurations of friendship groups, she asks them where she can find the maestro. Two of them immediately appoint themselves as her guides, eagerly pointing out various ensemble rooms and places of interest, including a bin where the great Rodrigo de Sousa apparently set all the school’s Tchaikovsky scores on fire in a fit of adolescent pique. With the benefit of years of living with Cassian, Jyn just manages to keep up with their slowed-down Spanish, though she keeps her responses to a minimum to avoid having to use her apparently comical accent.

About a month after that first recital at Yavin, Jyn — feeling outgunned in the romance stakes after Cassian had so tenderly nursed her back to health then treated her to a series of increasingly lovely dates — tried to tell him how she felt in Spanish, practising in the mirror more times than she was willing to admit until the words felt comfortable in her mouth.

Once she’d said them, Cassian’s expression was almost entirely charmed, but she still caught the laugh he’d quickly suppressed.

Flustered and a little dismayed, she asked, ‘How did I not get it right? I looked it up in a proper dictionary and everything.’

Quickly wrapping her in his arms, he explained between kisses that he’d just never heard such strongly Danish-accented Spanish before. ‘I think your brain just defaulted to the foreign accent it already knew.’

Somewhat mollified, Jyn nevertheless looked up the hardest words she knew in Danish and made Cassian pronounce them, which he did with exaggerated incompetence.

Then of course, because he really was impossible to compete with as a romantic, he took her face in his hands and said, his voice hushed and reverent, ‘I’m falling in love with you too.’

She shivers now as she did then, but her reverie is soon interrupted by their arrival at Maestro Rivera’s room.

The man who opens the door looks like some kind of vengeful Old Testament deity, all stern brow and long, white beard. No wonder Cassian and Rodrigo are as good as they are, if this is who was telling them to practise. His face soon brightens as he takes her in though. ‘Ms Erso, what a pleasure.’ He takes her hand and presses it to his lips. ‘How you have grown since the last time I saw you.’

Jyn opens her mouth in surprise, brow furrowing. ‘When—’

He links his arm with hers and starts to walk down the hallway, raising an eyebrow at the two students who have surreptitiously moved to follow them and sending them scurrying off. ‘Your father and I crossed paths a few times before I retired here. I remember you as a very well-behaved young child at one of his concerts.’

‘That doesn’t really sound like me.’ Hellion had been bandied about quite a lot during her childhood.

‘Ah!’ He chuckles. ‘Perhaps not normally, but you were so enchanted by the music, even then. You followed your father’s fingers so closely, I’m surprised you didn’t turn out to be a violinist.’

‘I nearly did.’ She’s about to go on to explain why she chose piano instead, but decides she’s had enough of thinking about children losing their parents for one day.

‘Now, I think that you did not come here to talk about your past.’ Guiding them to one of the many photos lining the corridor, he points to one with a hint of mischief. ‘Maestro de Sousa tells me one of my other students has caught your eye.’

The photo shows a string ensemble mid-performance and in the first row sits Cassian at around eight years old, face serious as he holds his little 13 inch viola aloft. She gasps out a delighted laugh at his terrible haircut and chubby cheeks, marvelling at how they could have transformed into the razor-sharp beauty of the man she knows.

Maestro Rivera laughs along with her. ‘Puberty really was a blessing for that boy. But so talented.’ He frowns. ‘I’ve always thought he’s wasted on the viola. You know, I tried so hard to get him to switch to the violin, but he would not listen.’

Jyn thinks of how Cassian’s face lights up when he’s playing with the orchestra in a way that it never quite does when he plays alone. ‘He’s too selfless for violin, he just likes making other people sound good.’

The maestro hums in acknowledgement. ‘And of course there was his mother. A truly impressive musician. She played like you, not quite as beautifully as Cassian, but with such fire.’

‘With the blood?’

‘With the blood, exactly. I see someone has been stealing my lines.’ He leads her down the corridor to other photos of Cassian, including one of him and Rodrigo in a string quartet, arms around each other and smiling. Jyn gets out her phone and is about to take a picture of it when Maestro Rivera plucks the frame off the wall and hands it to her. ‘Consider this my payment.’

Raising an eyebrow as she puts the photo away, she asks, ‘Payment for what?’

‘For the piano recital that you’re about to give for my students, of course.’ His tone is benevolent but brooks no argument and she pities the poor soul who would ever try to say no to this man.

Within half an hour, she finds herself seated at an old but well-maintained grand piano and surrounded by students. Most of the hastily-gathered crowd is seated but the maestro has allowed the pianists to come up close and they watch her technique with eagle eyes, making her think harder about it than she has in a while.

She plays the Prokofiev from her current tour repertoire along with some Beethoven and Mozart for good measure. Once she’s finished, the piano students are asked to list all of her mistakes, with any that they missed helpfully supplied by Maestro Rivera.

It’s just like she’s back with Saw, and she makes a note to find his most recent contact details. Rumour has it he’s somewhere in Mongolia doing something interesting with throat singers.

After many more selfies and a fond ‘Hasta pronto’ from the maestro, who’s coming to the concert in a few days, she’s put in someone’s parent’s car and driven back to the bus stop.

While she waits, she gets a message from Cassian. You still awake?

She goes to call him before realising the country code will ruin her surprise and she doesn’t have enough data for an internet call. With a disappointed sigh, she replies, Barely. Talk tomorrow?

Okay. Miss you.

She feels a little awful, knows he’s even more stressed about coming to Mexico and the concert than he’s letting on. But she’ll more than make up for it tomorrow. God, she’s never felt better about dropping two grand on a whim. Miss you too, it’s not long now. Have a safe flight.

Yeah, just two more weeks. I love you.

Who knows, maybe it’ll feel shorter. Love you too. So much. Even without those cheekbones.

?????

;)

#my fic #mitj au #rebelcaptainweek #i promise there'll be a chapter where they actually interact soon!

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