#but it bears repeating how thankful I am to everyone who's joined along for this ride- who've been so wonderful and patient thus far | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pan-fangirl-345 · 3 years

Text

Books Bring People Together

Summary: A frustrated and stuck Kaminari comes to you for help, and it somehow blooms into something else along the way.

TW: I made Kaminari ADHD, so I'm sorry if there's anything wrong, I went off what my ADHD friends do and what a medical site told me. I myself am not ADHD, so again, I apologize if there's anything wrong with this. Small swears, and Mineta, which should be a warning in and of itself.

A/N: I have had this half-baked idea stuck in my head for months and I wanted it out, so I am giving you all this!

"Hey, um, (Y/L/N), can I ask you something?" Kaminari asked, sliding into the chair across from you at the common room table.

"Sure, what's up?" you asked, setting your pencil down on the paragraph you were reading.

"Um, this is kind of embarrassing," Kaminari admitted. "But, um, I'm having a really hard time with English right now, and I know that you're right behind Bakugou in grades."

"Where are you going with this Kaminari?" you asked, crossing your arms in front of your chest.

You had heard things about Kaminari, and after meeting Mineta and knowing that Kaminari hung around with him, you didn't have the best impression of him. You had just been placed in Class 2-A, and so far you had mostly hung around with what the other students were calling the 'Dekusquad'.

"I need someone to tutor me," he admitted. "Normally English isn't all that hard for me, but Shakespeare is whack and I don't understand half of it."

"You want me," you started, "to tutor you. Why not ask Bakugou? Isn't he your friend?"

"Yeah, but . . . Bakugou has . . . harsh methods, and I need someone who won't treat me like an idiot," Kaminari confessed.

"Alright," you relented. "Why don't we get started now? Do you have anything going on?"

"No, this takes precedent," Kaminari said, rushing to grab his things.

"Alright, here's my question for you," you said when he propped his book open. "Why don't you understand?" You saw the look on his face change and you winced. "Sorry, sometimes I have a hard time controlling the tone of my voice. Let me rephrase that question." You paused for a moment, thinking of the right words before you said, "What about this don't you understand? What's the one thing about this that trips you up?"

"The formatting for one thing," Kaminari grumbled. "Why the hell is printed like that?"

You chuckled, brushing hair out of your face. You had thought the same thing the first time you had read Shakespeare.

"Alright, how about you just read, and then you can ask me any questions while I work on my own stuff, alright?"

"That sounds like it might work," he admitted.

"If that doesn't work, feel free to let me know," you told him. "This is about what helps you remember the material better."

"No, like I said, normally this is really easy for me," Kaminari said. "Let's try it."

"Alright, and remember, if you have any questions, I'm right here."

"Thanks (Y/L/N)," he mumbled.

"Of course, I wouldn't be much of a hero if I couldn't help people, right?" you mused, smiling at him.

"R-Right!" he chirped, grinning back at you.

You both worked in silence for a little bit before Kaminari leaned back in his chair, rubbing at him eyes.

"You okay?" you asked.

"Yeah, sorry, I'm ADHD, so sitting still and trying to read this is a little hard," he confessed. "And I might be dyslexic, I've never been tested but sometimes reading is hard for me."

You frowned, biting the inside of your lip, running the situation through your head.

"What if I read it to you?" you asked, looking up from your chemistry homework.

"How? It's a play," Kaminari said.

"I used to be in a drama club in middle school," you told him. "It's set up like a script, or if we don't have the energy to act it out, it's not hard to pretend that it's a regular story."

Kaminari stared at you for a moment before he nodded.

"Yeah, yeah I think that might work a little bit better than me staring at the same paragraph for fifteen minutes without actually reading anything."

"What part are you on?" you asked Kaminari, moving to glance over his shoulder at the page.

"Portia is trying to convince Brutus to tell her what's going on in her house. I think."

"Oh, I adore this part," you muttered, mostly to yourself. "Alright, what has you stuck?"

"This part. 'I grant I am a woman; but withal A woman well-reputed, Cato's daughter. Think you I am no stronger than my sex, Being so father'd and so husbanded? Tell me your counsels, I will not disclose 'em: I have made strong proof of my constancy, Giving myself a voluntary wound Here, in the thigh: can I bear that with patience. And not my husband's secrets?' I don't entirely understand what she's saying."

Wow, English must've been his thing, he didn't mess up a single word, and he was able to read it fairly fluently, everything considered. It might have taken him a little longer than normal, but he had nailed it.

"Okay, so she's basically telling Brutus that she won't tell his secrets if he tells her what's going on, it doesn't matter if she's a woman or not."

"What was with the voluntary wound thing?"

"So, it depends. Sometimes, in plays, the women playing Portia will have a fake knife and stab themselves in the thigh, other times they pretend to slice themselves, depends on the director," you told him. "She basically cut herself on the thigh and said, 'If I can handle this I can handle whatever's going on inside your head.' Do you understand?"

"Yeah, but damn, this woman is a badass," Kaminari said, staring down at the pages."

"Right? Some people read that as psychotic, but it's Shakespeare," you told him, "everything in Shakespeare is psychotic to some extent."

"That's fair. Thank you for explaining that to me," he said.

"Of course, that is why you came to me," you replied, laying a hand on his shoulder for a moment before you moved back to your seat.

Kaminari, despite the things you had heard, was actually quite intelligent, it just took him a little longer to get the answer sometimes.

"Thank you so much for helping me," Kaminari murmured. "You were super helpful."

"Of course, I actually enjoyed helping you," you told him. "And if you need any more help, please, let me know."

"I will, thank you so much (Y/L/N)," Kaminari repeated.

"Have a good night Kaminari," you told him.

"You too!" he chirped before he headed up to his room.

You sat down at the table again, staring at the chemical formula in front of you.

So, if zinc only had one charge, positive two, and it was combined with thiosulfate, that meant that there shouldn't be the need for two of the zinc atoms, they would make the charge neutral.

You wrote the answer down, checking the textbook to make sure you were right. Polyatomic ions were a little more complicated than monoatomic ions.

There were only a few more questions, and then you could go to bed too, and you just hoped that there were no trick questions.

You were the last one in the common room, as usual, despite assuring Iida that you were right behind him when he went to bed an hour ago.

"Alright (Y/F/N), time for some good sleep," you muttered, shutting your book and gathering your supplies.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You had been tutoring Kaminari for about six weeks, and he was definitely smarter than people gave him credit for. Sometimes he just needed a few minutes to think, or he needed something explained to him in a different way than everyone else.

Sero had been joining your little tutoring sessions too, and you had started doing them in Sero's room, since there were things Kaminari could mess with while he studied, and it was an environment where he didn't feel the need to prove himself.

"Hey, (Y/L/N), can you help me with this problem?" Sero asked, waving you over.

"Of course, what are we working on?" you inquired.

"Polyatomic ions, again," Sero said. "I need this extra credit."

"Alright, which one are you stuck on?"

"How do I figure out which Roman numeral goes here? Gold has multiple charges."

"You work backwards," you told him. "When you look at the formula, you need to figure out what charge dihydrogen phosphate has."

You gestured to the chemical formula.

"It has a negative one charge. Right?" Sero inquired, checking the list of common ions that the teacher had given them at the beginning of the unit.

"Right, and you have three of those ions, right?"

"Yeah, because there's a subscripted three outside the parentheses."

"So you have three of those, which means that those three together have a negative three charge."

"Right."

"So now you just have to figure out which gold variant has the right charge to cancel that one out."

"Well, there's only one gold atom, so it's gold three right?"

"Bingo, you got it."

"Oh, that makes it so much easier than what I was doing," he muttered, erasing the math he had been doing, writing down the way you had just shown him.

"(Y/L/N), can you come read through this essay for me?" Kaminari asked. "I think it's okay, but I need another eye on this."

"Sure, hand it over," you told him, taking the papers that he had handed to you.

You grabbed one of your signature blue pens and uncapped it, ready to mark anything you thought he could do better.

There wasn't as much as you were expecting. While Kaminari had a hard time interpreting things, once he understood, he was golden. He had a way with words, you noticed as you scanned through the paper he needed to hand in next class. You assumed that it gave him time to think about the right phrasing of things.

Other than a few grammatical and spelling errors, the paper was well written, and there was nothing major that needed fixing.

"Good job Kami, this is really good," you told him, ruffling his hair lightly.

He responded well to physical affection and praise, you had also noticed, and he made it easy.

Once you got past the typical shield he threw up, he was a nice guy with insecurities, just like everyone else.

He chuckled, leaning into your hand.

You noticed that the others didn't touch Kaminari as much as you did, despite having known him for much longer. They were worried about getting shocked, Sero had told you.

"Why though? He's never shocked me," you had told him.

"He can't control it sometimes, it builds up in his body and it needs an out."

"Well, that still no reason to stop touching him," you had mused. "If he shocks me he shocks me, it's really no big deal."

Kaminari had only shocked you once, during a thunderstorm when there had been a lot of lightning outside. He had gotten excited about getting a 90 on one of his tests, and had hugged you, giving you a slight shock.

He had apologized profusely, but you had waved his apologies off.

"It's okay Kaminari," you told him. "It happens to all of us sometimes."

You were finding yourself thinking about him more than you should've. You had become good friends with both him and Sero, and the other students had started coming to you when they had a question, but Kaminari was a little different.

It had started out with the flirty comments, but slowly those had turned into real compliments. He had been keeping Mineta away from you more and more, and he had even started laying off the perving with the grape rat.

He was a good guy, he really was, despite the playboy attitude. He was sweet, and he was just like every other person in the world.

"Thanks for tutoring us both," Kaminari said as the session was coming to a close.

"Yeah, you're really saving our asses," Sero agreed.

"Of course, come to me any time," you told them both, smiling as you made to head back to your own room.

"Hey, um, (Y/L/N), can I ask you something?" Kaminari asked.

"Sure. You know how much I love questions," you teased, smiling at him. Then you noticed his expression. "Kami?"

"Will . . . will you-" he chuckled awkwardly, messing with the seam of his pant leg. "Can you read something to me?"

"Yeah, of course," you said. "What is it?"

He handed you the book, and you smiled.

"My dad used to read this to me when I was little. I think that's why I love books so much," you admitted. "That was before . . . well, it doesn't matter now. Come on, we can head down to the common room if you want. Or your room, it doesn't really matter to me."

You had visited Kaminari's room on more than one occasion to return things to him, he tended to be a little forgetful, and he had often left things with you.

Despite the fact that everything you had learned about society told you that you should avoid being alone in a room with a boy, you trusted Kaminari enough to be alone in a room with him.

"I really like to read too," he confessed. "But sometimes my brain doesn't like to let me do it."

"I understand, it's okay," you told him, touching his arm lightly. "Are you sure that you'll be able to sit still long enough for me to get through any of it?"

Kaminari, after spending so much time with you over the last few weeks, had figured out how your voice worked, and he rarely got offended by your tone of voice anymore, which you were thankful for.

"Yeah, I like the sound of your voice, it helps calm me down. I think I might pay attention more if you read it to me."

"Alright, sure, let's go," you said, holding the book to your chest.

You knew this book like the back of your hand, and you had a feeling that Kaminari was telling the truth when he said he would be able to pay attention.

Kaminari followed you into the common room of the dorms, trailing just slightly behind, but he was in front of you the moment Mineta tried to get to you.

It amazed you how fast he could move sometimes, when he really wanted to.

"Get lost Mineta," you said. "I have nothing to say to you."

Mineta opened his mouth but a raised brow from Kaminari had him shutting it and heading to his own room so he could think his pervy thoughts in peace.

"I can't believe I was ever friends with that perv," Kaminari whispered. "I think I owe a lot of the girls apologies."

Kaminari glanced over his shoulder, and you smiled at him, linking your hands together.

You were proud of him, he had really grown lately, and you were glad that he was seeing how uncomfortable he had made the girls.

"I'm proud of you," you told him, and he beamed.

He responded well to praise, and being told that he had done a good job.

"Come on, we'll have to go to bed soon if we don't want Iida to lecture us again," you said, sitting down on one of the couches.

Kaminari sat down next to you, leaning his head on your shoulder as your propped the book open.

You didn't mind the fact that Kaminari was a little clingy, the contact was nice, and he always radiated warmth, though whether that was his normal body temperature or he ran hot because of his quirk, you didn't know.

You started the book off, barely having to look at the words as you read, changing your voice as necessary, stopping every once in a while to explain a word to Kaminari that he didn't understand, or to answer a question that he had.

It was nice, spending time with him like this, simply because he wanted to, not because he was going to fail a subject.

Somehow he had ended up with his head on your thighs, and you had one hand buried in his hair, brushing it away from his face, your fingers carding through it softly.

He was making a content noise in the back of his throat, and you smiled down at him, finishing up a chapter.

"Do you want to go to bed?" you asked softly, not wanting to disturb him too much, he had enough trouble sleeping as it was.

He hummed softly, leaning into your hands, and you smiled down at him softly.

You had never been one for crushes, they had seemed pointless, and there had never been a person who had caught your attention like this.

You had thought about it, of course, what it would be like to be in a relationship, but you had never thought that you would have to worry about it.

Well now you were worrying about it.

That nameless, faceless person that had been with you in those daydreams was starting to look frighteningly like Kaminari.

You had panicked when it had first started happening, until you realized that it would probably fade. You had had a friend in middle school who had a new crush every week, and you had assumed that it would fade with time.

It hadn't. That uneasiness that had popped up around him slowly melted into a nice warmth whenever he was close. You had started to stop worrying about whether he would like this, or hate that, and had started to show your true colors.

He had seemed to like you even more when you had started doing that, and you were glad.

But the only bad thing was that now you were noticing other things. His hands lingered a little longer than necessary when he helped you during training, his smile always seemed brighter when you made him laugh. His eyes always seemed to follow you around the common room, and he sometimes appeared at your side when you walked in.

You weren't sure if you just overthinking things or if he might like you back.

But this wasn't a simple crush anymore. You weren't sure what it was. It was a little too early to be love (even though it was just a rush of chemicals in the brain meant for human survival), but it was way past a simple crush.

Was there another step between a crush and love? Was this going to end with your heart breaking? Was there even a chance that he might like you back?

These were things that you kept in the back of your mind until you were alone in your room. Worrying about them in his presence made him worry about you, and you didn't want him to worry about you if he didn't need to.

"Kami, seriously, you need to go to bed."

"If I do, so do you," he told you, making you chuckle.

"I'll go to bed if you will. You are in my lap after all," you teased, pulling your hands away.

"That's fair," he murmured, stifling a yawn.

"Go to bed Kami," you whispered, standing up as soon as your legs were free.

They had fallen asleep a while ago, but you hadn't had the heart to move him.

"Alright," he mumbled, stumbling towards his dorm room.

You smiled softly, heading for yours.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You weren't sure what woke you up hours later. Maybe it was the three glasses of water you had drank before bed, or maybe it was the fact that your brain hated you almost as much as Kaminari's hated him.

You stretched, pulling a hoodie on over the tank top and shorts that you had gone to bed in, heading for the common room.

You weren't going back to bed any time soon, so you might as well get some studying done with a nice cup of tea or something.

You were almost surprised to see Kaminari sitting at the common room table with his books out.

"Denki? What are you doing?" you mumbled, wandering over.

"(Y/L/N)? What are you doing up?"

"I could ask you the same thing," you murmured, plopping into the seat next to him.

"Couldn't sleep, my brain went into overdrive the minute I tried to fall asleep."

"I at least got a good four or five hours in," you replied. "But it's Friday night, I should be sleeping in."

"What woke you up?" he asked, laying a hand on your thigh.

Kaminari, you had noticed, liked having his hands on you.

Not in the perverted way you had expected though. He liked having a hand on your thigh or on the small of your back. He liked an arm around your shoulders or his arm linked with yours when you all took class outings. He liked being close to you.

"No idea. It might've been a nightmare," you admitted. "I remember faint flashes, but it might've been something else."

"Are you going to be able to go back to bed?"

"Nah, I'll be up for a good while," you told him, leaning into his shoulder.

"Anything I can do to help?" he asked.

"Can you just . . . talk to me?" you inquired. "I like listening to you talk about things. Calms me down."

"What do you want to know about?"

"Anything. Everything. You."

"Did you know that I have a cat named Marshmellow?"

"What? No," you said, perking up a little bit. You had always been an animal person.

"Yeah. He's the spawn of the devil, but I didn't know that when I named him. All white, pretty blue eyes. Pure fucking evil," Kaminari told you, taking his phone out to show you a photo.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah, he absolutely despises me," Kaminari said, handing his phone over to you. "Loves my sister though, so he isn't a complete psychopath."

"He's a cat, can animals even be psychopaths?" you asked, moving your seat closer to his.

"No idea, but it wouldn't surprise me if he is," Kaminari said, chuckling.

"You're right, he is pretty," you murmured, flipping through the photos quickly.

Kaminari hummed, but when you glanced up he was looking at you.

He had that look on his face, the look that he sometimes got when he looked at you. It was one of the reasons you wondered if he liked you or not. He looked like he was in pain when gave you that look.

"Denki?" you inquired softly.

"Hmm?"

"Why are you looking at me like that? Like you're in pain? Like you're hurt?" you asked.

You didn't like the way your voice sounded. That little hint of insecurity snuck in, your voice had that clogged sound it got when you tried not to cry.

You weren't sure whether you could handle his response to that, but you needed to know if being around you caused him pain. You needed to know if there was any chance that he hated being in your presence.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Kaminari's POV)

Pain, huh?

Yeah, this was definitely pain, seeing her like this, swaddled in a hoodie he had left in her room accidently a week ago, covering her shorts, making her legs look a mile long.

He had tried to ignore it, tried to ignore the feeling in his chest every time he looked at her, tried to ignore the blatant male pride that came with seeing her draped in his hoodie, but he was only human after all.

Denki, after spending so much time with a girl that didn't tend to pull her punches, he knew how uncomfortable he had made the girls with all of his comments. He now knew how it made them feel when he said some of the things he had.

Denki never wanted her or any of the other girls to feel like that again, and he wanted to ignore some of the things that were running through his head, but she was making it hard when she looked at him like that, when she said his name the way that she just had.

"Denks?" she asked softly, moving to get a better look at his face.

Denki had never had a crush, not a real one anyway. He had had his eyes on Jirou first year, but that had been fleeting.

He was flirty, it was just his nature, but this feeling whenever he looked at her . . . that was completely new on him.

"Denki, are you okay?" she asked, putting her hands on his face lightly, making him look at her.

"Do you have any idea what you do to me?" Denki asked, placing his hands over hers. "I wasn't sure whether you felt the same way and I didn't want to mess anything up."

"Denki? What are you saying?" she asked, eyes bright with hope as she looked at him, running her thumb over his cheek softly, almost absentmindedly.

"I like you, (Y/F/N), I like you a lot, and this isn't some . . . three A.M. spur of the moment confession, but . . . it kind of is. The point is that you're smart, and all kinds of gorgeous, and there's so many things about you I wish I could list, but words aren't my thing, and I know that I'm rambling, but I really can't stop 'cause I'm terrified of what your response is gonna be and I don't want to fuck anything up and-"

"Denki," she cut in, smiling at him the way she did when she was fondly exasperated with him. "You have nothing to worry about. Absolutely nothing. I like you too."

"Why?"

Even Denki was surprised by the amount of confusion in his own voice.

"Because you're a dork," she stated. "Because you're smart, even if people don't always see it right away. Because you want to be a hero, because you like to make a difference. Because in the end, you're a good guy, when you get past the playboy attitude and shitty pickup lines. Because you're cute and all kinds of soft. Because apparently I have a thing for hyperactive morons with screwed up hair."

"Rude," he muttered, but she smiled at him even wider, and he knew that it was worth it.

"Am I wrong?" she asked softly, swinging her legs around to get closer to him.

"No, but that doesn't mean that I'm happy about it," he mumbled, pouting slightly.

She gave a small giggle, something that rarely happened, and Denki smiled, wide and unburdened.

"So, what do you say about going on a date?" he asked, tucking her hair behind her ear to get a better look at his face.

"I think that's the smartest thing you've ever said to me," she teased.

Denki pouted again and she touched his nose lightly, making it crinkle in response.

"That wasn't a no," she told him, wrapping her arms around his neck softly.

"You know, this looks good on you," he whispered, touching the hem of the hoodie carefully. "And it looks very familiar."

"It does?" She pulled away to look down at it and her eyes went wide. "I didn't even know it was yours. I just threw it on on my way down here. When did you even . . . .?"

"I left in there like a week ago," Denki informed her. "I thought you had just kept it."

"I didn't know it was in there," she admitted. "But I'm not sorry that I'm in it, it's very comfortable."

"We can share custody," he murmured.

"We'll have to," she agreed. "I don't think I can deal with never wearing this again. You actually have good taste in hoodies."

"Why are you so surprised by this?" he asked.

"Because most of the time your style seems all over the place," she replied. "But that's not a bad thing. It makes you unique."

"Normal is overrated."

"A normal sleep schedule is not," she said, standing up. She grabbed his hands, pulling him to his feet. "Come on, we can chill in my room if you want to."

"You aren't nervous about having me in there?" Denki asked.

"No, because I know that if you try anything I can knock you on your ass. I also trust you," she told him, linking their fingers together softly. "Is this okay?"

"More than okay," he breathed, stepping close enough to brush their shoulders together.

He could get used to this.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Your POV)

It was a rare day when you and Denki got a day off together. Being heroes was tiring, and schedules were always weird, so when you both got a day off together, you always spent them together.

"You're up early," Denki murmured, slipping in behind you from where you were sitting on the window seat of your apartment.

He wrapped his arms around your waist, burying his face in your neck.

"The baby woke me up," you said.

Said baby padded into the roof, tail high in the air, a smug look on that cute furry face as he jumped up onto the seat, curling up in your lap.

"Marshmellow, don't lay on my book," you muttered, pulling the book out.

"Told you, he's fuckin' evil," Denki murmured, kissing your shoulder lightly.

His shirt was slipping off your shoulder, and Denki treated uncovered skin like a target, regardless.

"How long have you been up?" he asked.

"Only an hour or two, and you looked so peaceful, I felt bad waking you up. I know that you've been getting more action than I have these last few weeks," you murmured, taking one of his hands, kissing his palms softly, leaning back into his warmth.

"I love you," Denki hummed.

"I love you too Denks," you told him.

"Read to me?" he requested, and you smiled.

"Always," you replied, finding your spot in your book again.

#denki kaminari x reader #denki x reader #kaminari fluff #kaminari x reader #kaminari x reader fluff #denki x reader fluff #mha #mha kaminari

157 notes · View notes

themaribatpit · 3 years

Text

Saturday Challenge: Double Crossover

Written by: The Maribat Pit Prompt: Double Crossover Rated: M rating just to be safe (sexual references, mostly because of some very unsavory things Lila thinks and implies about Marinette.) Marinette x Jason Phantom of the Opera (specifically Hush Jason, from 2020′s Death in the Family).

A/N (Maribat fangirl): There is going to be a lot of class salt, Lila salt and some heavy duty character bashing. I’m going to be upfront, there’s characters being called harlots. A/N (DC fanboy): My S.O. and I pretty much did karaoke while writing this.

Paris, 1875. Marinette worked in her parents bakery, while she loved her family dearly, she was dissatisfied with her current lot in life. She wished to become a singer, and everyday as she walked in the streets of Paris to bring flour to the bakery, she would stop and stare at the Conservatoire de Paris. The enchanting music and singing could be heard even in the streets.

Listening to music always reminded her of her favourite fairy tale told by her father, the one about ‘Angel of Music’. She would sit on the street across the Conservatoire, close her eyes and listen to the beautiful music emanating from it. Once she tried to sing along, but passersby would be swift to yell at her to stop. They described her voice sounding like a rusty hinge.

Upon her 15th birthday, her parents presented to her a once in a lifetime opportunity. They had presented her with an approved application to the Conservatoire, they had saved enough money for tuition and would be sending her there to chase her dreams as an opera singer. Marinette held her parents tightly, thanking them constantly for the amazing opportunity.

That night, Marinette was unable to sleep, she was beaming with energy and excitement. She could not believe how her luck was changing, how she would be going to the musical academy of her dreams.

The next morning however she would be in a nervous panic for her first day of lessons. Running about the home, getting prepared, packing her bags. She even forgot to eat breakfast, she ran out the door with a croissant in her mouth, much to the chagrin of her parents.

However, her dream academy soon became a waking nightmare to her. She would be tormented daily by all her peers, especially one Lila Rossi, the prima donna of the academy. Every professor would sneer at her low birth, and did nothing when the others tried to sabotage her standing at the Academy. She tried to keep her head held high, even as everyone else looked down on her for being a baker’s daughter. Marinette ignored the comments and rumours about how she was able to attend the prestigious academy. Rumours that she dared not repeat, about how she and her parents must be criminals if they were able to afford to send her to the academy.

It wasn’t enough for her to be stuck in the chorus, Lila Rossi wanted to make sure her place as prima donna of the academy was ironclad. A couple of the teachers felt that she was growing more temperamental, more complacent, and their eyes began to wander for a dancer to take her place. The other dancers were unwilling to take her place, all except for Marinette, who saw it as a shining opportunity. For Lila, this simply would not stand.

The one time Marinette found a pair of scissors that had been used to cut the laces on her pointe shoes. The same scissors that were missing from her sewing box days earlier. She decided that the time had come to confront Lila once and for all.

Marinette confronted her just before rehearsals began, scissors in hand, in front of everyone. “Is it true?” she called, everyone turned to look at them.

“I don’t know what you mean.” Lila gasped. She looked down to see her wearing her worn out slippers, before looking back up at her face. “You do know you’re meant to be wearing your toe shoes now, right? The show is in a few days.” she reminded her.

“I do,” she breathed, “I also know it was you, you’re the one who cut the laces on my pointe shoes.”

Lila gasped and stepped back, everyone else was shocked by the accusation. She looked away for a moment, and squeezed her eyes shut. Marinette knew the trick well from their acting classes at the academy, she was getting ready to make it look like she was crying. “Why? Why would you accuse me of something like this?” she made sure her voice wavered as she spoke, “what reason do I have to sabotage a background dancer’s shoes?”

Marinette knew she had lost the battle before it had even begun, every dancer would move to protect Lila and her crocodile tears. Lila was the prima donna, the daughter of a diplomat, and she had the entire academy in the palm of her hand. “Perhaps there was some mistake,” she muttered, walking away from her classmates rushing to defend Lila’s fake tears. It was useless trying to explain that the scissors were stolen from her, and that this was an elaborate setup. It was her word against Lila’s, as the directors tried to command the dancer’s attention, Marinette ran.

Once again, she tried to keep her head held high, it wasn’t as if anyone would believe her when she told them about Lila’s machinations. She made a habit of keeping her costumes and pointe shoes hidden. On occasion bringing them home whenever she visited her parent’s bakery, somewhere that little saboteur would not even think to look for them.

Months later, tragedy struck again when she received a letter informing her that her parent’s bakery had been burned. Her parents, her hopes, her dreams all burned to ash in one night. It was made worse by the fact that one rehearsal, Lila snatched the letter out of her hands and read it aloud for the entire company of dancers and singers to hear. She assumed that it would be some kind of love note, probably preparing to spread rumours about Marinette sneaking off into the night with a mystery lover. Instead, Lila simply made a show of pitying Marinette, “poor thing, it’s worse than I thought. Unless you can find a patron to support you, your days at the academy are going to be numbered.”

Just as the theatre managers had arrived, Marinette fled, keeping her head down as tears were welling up in her eyes and blurring her vision. Since the day she arrived she had been mocked, humiliated, tormented simply so that one girl could have the adoration and sympathy of her fellow performers. Through all the salacious rumours and lies, she tried her best to ignore them and carry herself through it all. The loss of her parents, their bakery, and now Marinette’s hopes and dreams, it was all too much to bear.

Marinette ran to an empty music room to cry her heart out, she sat right against the wall, knees curled up to her chest and sobbed into her legs. In this state of absolute despair, she began to sing a song of her favourite fairy tale that her father would sing to her whenever she had a nightmare. She sang a soft, painful prayer for the Angel of Music and a farewell to her lost parents. “Think of me, think of me fondly, when we say goodbye…”, her singing was hoarse, off key, full of sorrow.

The more she sang, the harder she cried. Soon to the point that she could not complete the song. However, a disembodied voice sang the remaining verse for her. Marinette paused from her crying to look for the voice, it felt as if it came from everywhere and nowhere. It was hypnotising, elegant, enchanting. She walked out of the music room to try to find the source of the singing.

“Come to me, Angel of Music.” The voice sang, in a smooth tenor voice, luring Marinette as if she was a moth attracted to a flame. The voice led her to a musical hall, reserved only for the academy’s annual showcase. She turned the door knob, to her surprise, the door was unlocked. She peeked her head through the door to see a cloaked figure playing the organ, the source of the enchanting voice. “Insolent girl, this slave of fashion. Basking in your glory.” The figure angrily sang “Ignorant fool, this prima donna.”

“Angel of Music, is that you?” Marinette tentatively asked the figure. The figure stopped playing, and turned around to face her. Marinette was taken aback by the figure, he was a tall man, wearing a red mask on the left side of his face. Another distinctive feature other than his magnificent voice was the white streak of hair and piercing green eyes.

“You are unlike any of the fools in this academy. You did not join this academy for fame or fortune. No, you came here because of your love of music.” The figure told her. He took a deep breath and composed himself, straightening his jacket. Then he raised an arm, reaching out to Marinette. “I am your Angel of Music, come to me Angel of Music.” Marinette walks forward and accepts the Angel’s hand, thus beginning their first musical lesson together.

Marinette’s talent and ability in music skyrocketed with her extra-curricular lessons. Her mysterious patron was also the one continuing to fund her education at the academy. Meanwhile, no one else had the time to spread rumours about Marinette, not when there were rumours of a ghost haunting the Conservatoire.

Unbeknownst to Marinette, she was the key to establishing control over a very profitable endeavour for her mysterious patron. The managers were being extorted to the tune of 20,000 francs and requested that box five remain open. This money was nothing to them, especially when the sons and daughters of the wealthy and powerful were attending. Very few had seen Jason’s face, and if they did, they would draw back in fear. It was the result of a boyhood accident that left him changed and altered in more ways than one. Taking control of the Conservatoire was merely the first step in taking control of an entire city. This girl, Marinette, was the key to captivating their attention. She would hold their attention and adoration as the rising star of the academy, drawing their eyes away from his growing influence and power. Using talents and potential that they had cast aside, twisting their own hubris against them.

Months later, everyone in the academy worked towards its annual showcase for its patrons, the nobility and all family members of its students. Lila had grown bored of tormenting Marinette, and had moved on to other victims. She had her other dancers and singers wrapped around her little finger, and all eyes would be on her at the annual showcase.

At last the day of the annual showcase had arrived, Lila sat at her personal preparation room, after all she would be the star of the show. She walked over to her wardrobe and opened it, she then screamed in horror to see her dress tattered and in pieces.

In the days leading to the showcase the Director of Conservatoire de Paris had received threatening letters demanding 20,000 Francs, box 5 to remain vacant and worse of all to replace Lila Rossi with some baker’s daughter. Director Bourgeois scoffed at the threats, tossing the letter away.

The next day during the rehearsal for one of the ballet numbers, students and teachers paid no mind to the threats that were outlined in the letter. Until one of the dancers looked up and gasped in horror. The other dancers looked up to find the stagehand hanging from the rafters. The theatre soon bursts into screams of fear as they all see the dead body of the stagehand. Director Bourgeois ordered all faculty members and students present to remain silent of the murder. This prestigious institution could not afford such a scandal this close to such an important showcase. As the Director inspected the body, he found a letter titled to him attached to the corpse of a stagehand.

Director Bourgeois read the second letter with shaky hands, it read “Monsieur Bourgeois, good day to you. It seems you did not take my threat seriously. I present to you this corpse to show my sincerity. I see you have a young daughter, pray that no harm would befall her. I shall reiterate my demands, 20,000 francs, box five remain vacant and Mademoiselle Marinette shall replace the harlot Lila Rossi.”

Director Bourgeois collapsed into his chair, wiping his sweat. Until he heard a scream from outside his office. He ran out as fast as he could to see Lila Rossi confronting Marinette. Crocodile tears flowed from Lila’s eyes as she accused Marinette of sabotage, purposefully doing so in front of the Director's office.

“How could you Marinette?” Lila wailed, “Whatever your reasons, how could you do this to me? To the Conservatoire?”

Marinette merely said “Lila, don’t you stay in a private room with guards patrolling the hallway outside?” She shrugs, “I was in my dormitory last night. Besides, how could anyone sneak into your room at night, unless they were a phantom?”

Director Bourgeois goes pale at Marinette’s implication, he had to intervene quickly, before the situation got worse. He attempted to placate Lila, “Now now mademoiselles, I can’t punish anybody unless we have solid evidence. As the saying goes ‘the show must go on.’ Signora Rossi, as you are currently unable to perform, I’m afraid Mademoiselle Marinette will have to take your place.”

Marinette’s eyes widened at the offer given to her, she could not believe it. Director Bourgeois himself offered her the star role for this year’s showcase. It is all as her Angel of Music said would happen. She accepted the role wholeheartedly and thanked the director profusely, she skipped back to the musical hall to begin rehearsals, now as the main lead.

Lila’s jaw dropped to see the director siding against her, how he gave away her role to that peasant without any hesitation. She clenched her fists and gritted her teeth, she stomped her way back to her bedroom to begin scheming the ultimate humiliation for Marinette. She was so distracted with her rage, she had not noticed a shadowy figure following her.

Lila planned to show the entire Opera house just who Marinette was, little more than a filthy peasant who got lucky. She was supposed to have packed her bags and left months ago, after her parents and their pathetic little bakery burned down. “This Opera Phantom had a lot of nerve calling me a harlot, when Marinette is probably his little harlot.” she muttered harshly in the darkness. She searched the costume room for the lead actress’ dress, a long flowing gown that brushed against the floor. It was made with the finest fabrics that money could buy, it almost broke Lila’s heart to sabotage it. She would rather die than see it worn by some peasant girl, a pretender, a talentless sham of a performer. Before she can lay hand on the dress to destroy it, a gloved hand reaches out and grabs her by the wrist. A voice interrupts her, “What do you think you are doing with that?”

Lila slowly turns around to see a grotesque figure staring at her. In the candlelight, she was horrified by the person she saw. The left half of his face was severely burned, almost completely disfigured. His bright green eyes flared with a fury that genuinely terrified Lila as the figure glared at her. She immediately drops everything and screams, as she runs out the door as fast as her legs would carry her, wailing and screaming how the ghost is trying to kill her. “He’s there, the Phantom of the Opera!” she wails as he chases her down. The Phantom pursues his prey. Just as Lila runs around a corner, the ghost is there waiting for her. She gives another horrified scream, falling to the floor and trying to crawl in the opposite direction. “No no no, please don't kill me!” She begged as tears blurred her vision.

Her howls and pleas of mercy attract nearby students, teachers and guards. They all arrive to see Lila screaming like a maniac on the floor, alone and raving about some ghost hunting her down. “The ghost is real! He is real I tell you! He’s going to kill me!” she sobbed. As Lila was being escorted out of the academy, gossip spread like wildfire. Within hours everyone would be talking about how Lila had lost all of her sanity because of the ghost.

They had no other choice at that moment, the show had to go on. If they wanted the night to go smoothly, with no one noticing anything strange or peculiar, they had to meet the Phantom’s demands. Marinette stood there, centre stage, with all of Paris’ most influential in the audience. She began to sing her show stopping aria.

As she glided across the stage and looked out into the audience, her eyes searched for the man in the red mask. She liked to imagine her Angel of Music beaming at her with pride, without him, she would still be that sad little girl crying in the music room. She sang as loudly and as clearly as she could, hoping that her voice would pierce the heavens clearly enough for her mother and father to hear.

As she reached her crescendo, she peaked with an E6. Her voice echoed across the entire hall with the sharpness and perfection of a veteran soprano singer. The audience collective dropped their jaws at the spectacle. Marinette ended her aria with a bow, and the theatre erupted with a thunderous round of applause.

Jason watched from his seat in box five, with a self satisfied smile on his face. From that day forth, he would see to it that all eyes were on her.

#maribat lila salt #jasonettejuly2021 #jasonette #maribat #ml x dc #maribat class salt

109 notes · View notes

peachpitfics · 3 years

Text

Mistletoe

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Request: No

Summary: Every year Rossi holds a Christmas Eve dinner, the Team and their little families attend. This is your first one, and coincidentally, you get caught under the mistletoe.

Length: 2.6k

Pairing: SpencerReid x Female!Reader

Content Warnings: ~none~

A/N: Hiiii, this is super fluffy and sweet. Hopefully the first of a few Christmas themed fics. I hope you like it!!

------------------------------------------------------------------------

You never had anywhere to go for the holidays. You had no real family, moved to a new state, and joined a new force only a few weeks ago. The new team you worked with was a tight knit family. They had been together for years and while they were welcoming and did their best not to exclude you, it was hard to bear the inside jokes and recalling of memories you were not a part of. What shocked and surprised you most about their bond, was the family Christmas held at Rossi’s huge house. Everyone, and their families would come, eat a glorious Christmas dinner, and spend it together.

You rang the doorbell and stood, rugged up on the doorstep, huge wooden and glass double doors in front of you. Dave answered the door, arms wide open as he took you in a loving embrace. “Thanks for inviting me” You shuffled into the house awkwardly, passing Rossi two bottles of wine as he showed you where you could shed your winter coverings. Rossi’s house was beautifully decorated from top to bottom. You were sure it had to have been professionally done. “Thank you y/n, this is great. I’m so glad you could make it out here tonight” Dave beamed at you, “And you look beautiful”. You hadn’t put too much effort in tonight but dressed nicely for dinner at least. What he said made you blush; you hid your face as he led you into the dining room. “Hey! Looks who’s here” Morgan smiled across the table. Garcia, sitting next to him, waving overly excitedly. You waved back, clearly not having had any eggnog. As you sat down, in between Hotch and JJ, Hotch poured eggnog into your glass and clinked glasses with you. “We’re just waiting on the kid, he said he was on the phone with his Mom. But he should be almost here” Rossi shared with them.

They all sat around the table, laughing at Garcia who was intoxicated, conversing over Christmas memories from their childhood. Not all of them were overly happy memories, just thoughts of a simpler time. “What about you, y/n? Favourite Christmas memory from when you were a child?” Hotch asked. Emily looked worriedly at you, she had been the one you spoke to and got to know out of everybody. “Well... um” Clearing your throat, you paused as Spencer walked in and slipped into his seat beside Garcia and across from you. “Yeah, okay. I think I was about 8... I was in my second group home and there were about 15 kids of all different ages. The church choir stopped by to sing carols to us in the evening; and, uh, we had a roast chicken, a lot of us had never experienced Christmas before so it was pretty wonderful. The church also brought us a box of second-hand toys, which was lovely. I think that’s probably the best one” Everyone stared at you in awe. The type of awe you were dreading. You shuffled uncomfortably in your seat as they started to notice that the staring was out of control. “I didn’t know you were a foster kid” Morgan said somberly, having grown up in an area with a lot of foster kids himself. “Yeah, I was. It wasn’t so bad” You smiled softly, begging someone to take the attention off of you. “Sorry I’m late, you guys, my Mother was reminiscing about Christmas in 1969” Spencer chuckled awkwardly. And that was the end of it, their focus was changed, and Spencer was explaining his Mother’s story, which in turn was quite boring.

Within 30 minutes, Rossi and several servers emerged from the kitchen, bringing platters and large bowls and more wine. It was the most extravagant thing you’d seen in your whole life. I’ve never even been a restaurant this nice, you thought to yourself, watching as they served. Rossi held in his hands an exceptionally large knife, whilst standing over the bird, gathering everyone’s attention. “For me, Christmas means being with family. Sharing it with you, makes it the most precious and special time of the year” Rossi paused, “To family”. Everyone raised their glasses and repeated the toast back to him. He carved the meat, and you all passed the fixings round the table. It was the most delicious food you’d ever had. You began to wonder if everyone with a family had a lovely Christmas like this every year.

Before long, the kids were playing hide and seek throughout the house as all the adults made their way into the awesomely large sitting room. Everyone gathered around, sitting in the settee’s or on the rug by the fireplace. “Anyone care for brandy and a cigar?” Rossi asked. “Am I in a game of Clue?” Garcia looked around the room, “Where the hell is Miss Scarlet, I want to ask her some questions”. People snickered at her comments, she got more sarcastically funny as she got further intoxicated. “No seriously, would anyone like a drink?” Rossi stood by his sideboard bar, crystal decanters lined up with matching glasses. “Scotch, for me Dave, thank you” Hotch nodded. “I’ll take one of those as well” Emily smiled. “Not for me, I’m driving” Will grinned at JJ, hoping she would have another drink and let her hair down a little. You noticed this and nudged JJ in the side, “I brought more wine” You raised your eyebrows cheekily at her.

She looked long and hard into your eyes, really thinking over how hectic the headache was going to be in the morning. “Screw it” She mumbled, caving in to your devilish look, “Go get the wine” She lightly tapped your arm. “Oh no, come on y/n, I’ll go” Rossi offered. “Seriously, it’s fine, I’m sure I won’t get lost on the way back or anything” You giggled, jumping up from the floor and heading towards the big arch way through to the foyer. “Hey, y/n!” Spencer stopped you in the doorway, “Would you mind getting me a glass of water?” He asked in a soft tone. You nodded happily; it was an easy request.

“Hold on...” Hotch said quickly. They all stared at you again. “You can’t move” Hotch smiled gently, “You’re under the mistletoe”. Everyone laughed and gaped as Hotch caught you out under the mistletoe. “What do you mean I can’t move?” You laughed, as if this were a silly game. “In the Rossi house, if you pause under mistletoe and get caught out, you have to wait there until someone kisses you” Dave explained. Obviously Hotch had been caught before and was now pointing out Rossi’s next victim. “Who’s gonna do it?” Garcia looked intrigued, waiting for the war between them to begin while you stood there, knees shaking at the thought of having to kiss someone on the team. “Well, I’m out” Rossi said, having reconnected with an old lover recently. Will and JJ snuggled closer together, that was an obvious no. Hotch uncomfortably sat back into the settee, smiling cheekily into his glass.

A few faces turned to Morgan. “Hey now, that’s usually my style, but I’m seein’ somebody at the moment” Morgan shrugged, hoping Penelope wouldn’t pull him apart over the comment he made. Which inevitably, she did. “Can’t I just go to the kitchen, come on, this is silly” You spoke over them, they were discussing among them who should be the one to kiss you and set you free from the nasty grip of the mistletoe. “It’s gotta be Reid” Emily’s voice rang out over all of the incoherent babbling.

Spencer had been laughing and watching this unfold around him, blending into the leather settee like a chameleon. Now that the faces turned to him, he flushed red and he eyes grew wider. “Ha ha, you guys” Spencer tried to redirect, blushing madly “Emily, it’s you! You know it’s you” He laughed awkwardly. “It could be me; I just don’t really think that’s y/n’s speed... whereas you...” She let the rest of the team join in on the end. “Yeah I don’t think she swings that way” JJ looked back at Emily, shaking their heads together negatively. “Which leaves you Spencer, everyone else is attached at the moment” Hotch's voice seemed confident and firm, but had a hint of a giggle in it.

This started to seem like a set up to you, everyone was grimacing, smirking up at you. No one else tonight had been caught under mistletoe and there was no shortage of it in this house. You crossed your arms in front of you and lovingly glared back at each of them. “Come on Spence” JJ grabbed his knee and shook it, as if this provided some sort of moral support. “Spencer! Spencer! Spencer!” Penelope started a chant and within seconds, they had all joined in. “Okay! Okay, okay, you can stop doing that now. The peer pressure has worked” Spencer’s face couldn’t not smile. His cheeks tugged tightly at his lips, and though his face was red, he looked pleasantly excited. Reid stepped over JJ and slowly approached the door frame. He got closer to you, looked into your eyes, and pursed his lips, eyes widening as if to say, “This is weird”. He rocked back on his heels for a moment, hands awkwardly in his pockets. You remained still, one eyebrow raised in shock, arms still folded in front of you. “Come on pretty boy, we haven’t got all night” Morgan teased, Garcia gripping onto him, her eyes as wide as possible so she didn’t miss anything.

In an instant, he lunged forward, a hand landing on your cheek and one at the small of your back. Spencer planted his lips onto yours, you could almost feel him smiling into it. Your arms softened and untangled as they found their way onto his chest in front of you. As you parted, the embarrassing hail of whoops and clapping arose. Spencer stepped back giggling, hiding his face from his colleagues. You pursed your lips together and held your fingers to your lips briefly, surprised at how good that felt. “I’m gonna go grab that wine now” You blushed, laughing along with the hyenas in the sitting room. Pausing slowly at the fridge, your head hitting the metal, you exhaled from deep in your lungs. Never in your life did you think you would be in such a position. But you were happy and almost grateful for your embarrassing workmates.

You returned with the wine, rose coloring still in your cheeks. Spencer was now playing with the kids under one of the many Christmas trees and you retook your position on the rug with JJ and Will, pouring them both a glass of white wine. No one teased anymore, no one laughed. There were just separate pods of conversation. Eventually, after picking up sleepy children off the couches in the lounge room, JJ and Will were thanking Rossi for such a lovely evening. Hotch not far behind with Jack. Those that were left were Morgan and Penelope, desperately arguing over whether or not ‘Die Hard’ was a Christmas film. Rossi and Emily, who were debating finer Scotches and Whiskeys. You watched on, amused by their friendships, and longing to be one of them. Until you noticed that Spencer had gone. You got up from the rug and wondered through the house, finding him on the balcony off the dining room.

You unlatched the door, alerting him to your presence. “Hey” He smiled softly at you. “Hey” You sounded unsure, “I’m sorry if that was super weird for you in there”. He chuckled under his breath slightly as you approached and stood next to him in the cold night air. “You know, I thought it would be... But it was... nice” He nodded, tucking his smile into his scarf. You tried to look away, hiding the permanent smile plastered on your face. “It was nice” You said gently. Spencer turned towards you, and unintentionally looked you up and down, “You must be so cold” He said, shedding his coat and draping it across your shoulders. You looked at the soft brown tweed and curled your nose, “But now, you’ll be cold”. “Doesn’t matter” He shrugged nonchalantly. “Spencer I-” He interrupted quickly, “Can I have a do over?”. “Sorry, what?” You shook off whatever you were going to say and clarified you heard him correctly. “I just- I would have kissed you differently, had they not set me up and cheered like an audience” He closed his eyes, “ I would have kissed you differently”.

Without saying anything, you slid your icy cold hand into his. Warmth radiated from his large hands as his fingers slid between yours. You pulled his hand and turned him to face you. “You can kiss me again” You mumbled. His eyes were so dark and deep, he held eye contact with you, bringing his face slightly down to meet you in the middle. His soft lips, tripping over yours hungrily. His breath warm on your face. His tender hands, not so gingerly on respectful places on your body like before. One hand slid up to your neck, lightly holding on, but eventually wrapping around to grasp the back of your neck. His other hand placed further south of the small of your back, pulling your whole body into him as his tongue delved into your mouth. You tried to move your hands, you tried to do anything, but your brain was completely overwhelmed and stunned by the warmth and pleasure washing over you.

He pulled away, kissing your cold nose, along your jawline. Pressing on last kiss to your lips, and then to your forehead as he wrapped his arms around you. Your body sunk into him. Even without his jacket, he was still so warm, and it was so inviting. You wrapped your arms around his back and held onto him as tightly as he held onto you. “This is a better Christmas story than the one I told before” You muttered at a giggle into his woolen jumper. Spencer smiled into the nape of your neck. “God, I hope so” He laughed, and you felt his whole body move against yours. After a while, you parted and just stood snuggled together on the balcony. “They really set us up, big time” You pondered. “I can’t believe Emily blabbed” Spencer shook his head. You looked sharply up at him. “Blabbed?” You asked confusedly. “Yeah... I kind of told her I had a crush on you” He tried to hide his face but you wouldn’t let him, you grabbed his hand and held it in your own. “Oh my god” That same old shocked expression was strewn back across your face. “I know, it’s super embarrassing and I’m sorry I didn’t -“ You interrupted him this time, “No, Spencer, I told Emily I had a crush on you” You said quickly, without thinking.

Both of you, stunned, really thought about how devious Emily was. Why did we do that? You asked yourself; the answer quite simply was, she was a very open person and people often told her their secrets. “I guess, I’m glad I told her” Spencer smiled, “Because otherwise I never would have got to kiss you”. You leaned up to his lips and kissed him again. “Now, you can kiss me anytime you want” You whispered to him, that gorgeous smile still fighting its way onto his face.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Inside, Emily and Rossi stood in the doorway of the dining room, peering out onto the Balcony like a pair of sneaky teenagers. They had been watching for several minutes, and though they couldn’t hear the conversation, they knew they were busted for setting the whole thing up. “Thanks again, Dave” Em raised his glass of scotch to Dave’s brandy, both of them grinning like school girls. “Absolutely anytime, my dear” They clinked glasses and walked steadily back into the sitting room, arms around each other.

327 notes · View notes

starsstruck · 4 years

Text

cloudbusting; part five.

a classic coffee shop story. harry is a painter that quickly becomes a regular at his neighbourhood cafe, and it just might have something to do with a certain barista. cloudy mornings, gallery openings, and rooms full of paintings.

pairing: harry x reader warnings: language, mentions of anxiety words: 8.9k

series masterlist

art by holly warburton. (i have no vision for the mc of the fic, people in the images of paintings i use are purely because this is how i envision harry’s art to be)

a/n: i am so excited (and nervous) to share this chapter but she is here ! amazingly big thank you to tina @sunflowers-styles for beta-ing, you are the best ily💕 ! as always please share if you can, and let me know your thoughts, i love to here everything you have to say !!🍊💕 happy reading xoxo

The clouds that came in seemed to have doubled, growing bigger and darker as a cool wind came with them.

The change in weather was quick, summer seeming to slip right out from under you as fall settled into the air. Although, the change was welcomed. There was always something about the sun glowing in the sky while the air was cool. But this was not one of those fall days, no today was damp and misty and not at all pleasant.

That Saturday morning, there was a light rain when you woke up for the mid-shift that you had to cover since apparently your coworkers didn’t know how to give notice before deciding they couldn’t work.

“What time are you off?” Your brother asked, as you were taking a bite out of the jam covered toast you had made yourself before needing to run off to work.

“Three,” you called between bites.

“I can come meet you when you're off if you’d like,” he said, joining you in your kitchen. “Might bring in my laptop, get some work done.”

You nodded. “That sounds good,” taking a quick glance out the window, you faced him once more. “Hopefully it’ll be slow today considering the weather.”

“Fuck,” you muttered quickly, half a slice of toast in your hand as you caught a glance of the time from the clock on the oven. “I gotta go. I left you the key on the table if you want to head out and I’ll see you this afternoon!”

You called to your sibling who was behind you as you grabbed your jacket and bag from where you had left them on the couch. “Sorry again about this.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he replied, looking through your recently filled fridge. “I have some things to get done so it works out well.”

With a hurried goodbye, you were out the door and rushing down the street. You always left maybe a minute too late and ended up having to power-walk to work. The morning air was chilly and just wet, overall unpleasant and not doing much to up your mood.

You hadn’t slept well at all the night before.

You were unable to sleep after the hole you had dug for yourself from your Instagram deep dive, your mind not shutting up about everything that happened within the past two months – the past two months with Harry.

You were feeling this small twinge from the back of your mind, something that was getting louder and louder in your head. A small hint of a voice that you knew was your own, that was telling you that you should be afraid.

And after all the emotional exhaust from the previous day, you had to go make small talk with person after person which was something you just really weren’t looking forward to.

“What are you doing here?” Saya asked when she saw you turn in past the counter and into the back room to hang your coat and bag. You were happy to see that there weren’t a lot of patrons, and that Saya seemed relaxed with the morning so far.

“I’m covering for Noah,” you told her as you clocked in, not even aware of the way your eyes scanned over the work space to look for anything that needed to be done.

“Of course he’s off,” she muttered under her breath, herself having her own issues with being unable to say no when people asked her to cover for them. “Weren’t you supposed to have the week off?”

You nodded. “The whole week, yeah. Grace is going to cover one of my shifts so I’ll have an extra day off, which is nice. But my brother is visiting and I just –” you sighed, “don’t feel like being here.”

“I get that,” Saya shot you a smile as you made yourself a big hot latte. “It’ll be okay, I don’t think today will be that busy.”

And boy was she wrong.

Seemingly minutes after your conversation, a steady flow of clients came in. The steady flow turned into a rush, which again never seemed to end. You didn’t know why everyone was out and about, wanting coffee on this cloudy September morning, and why they couldn’t just be at home.

Saya, the angel she was, took the orders while you rushed through making drinks. It was arguably more stressful to be the one making drinks, but it also meant you didn’t have to talk to people as much. At ten-thirty, Aleena came in as well, and joined your side in making drinks so it became a bit more bearable.

Your brother had come in at the height of the rush, lucky to find a spot in the back to sit at and do whatever work he needed, as he drank the americano you’d made for him.

Luckily the noon lull came, as it often did, and you had a small moment to catch your breath and do some tidying up before it inevitably got busy again.

You walked around with the dish bin against your hip, and it quickly got heavier as you filled it with utensils people had neglected to bring back. A man then very rudely grabbed your arm, stopping you in your tracks to ask you where the washroom was and you were muttering under your breath in annoyance as you balanced the bin to pick up a stack of plates.

“Hey,” a voice that you hadn’t expected to hear, and one that you were trying to keep out of your head, was suddenly sounding next to you.

Head whipping up to where it came from, you pushed some of your hair out of the way after placing the plates along with the other dishes in the bin.

“Oh, um –” you said, a bit dumbly. “Hey.”

“Surprised to see you here again – I remember how you said you had a week off.” Harry said, standing tall and beautiful and everything you didn’t need to be reminded of right now.

“Covering again,” was all you said, avoiding his gaze. The dish bin in your hands felt like it was growing heavier and heavier, and provided you the perfect excuse to step away from the conversation.

“I got to um,” you lifted the bin in your hands, wordlessly telling him you needed to empty out the bin.

“Oh, of course,” he nodded with a tiny furrow in his brow that you didn’t have time to analyse as you kept your eyes on the small line up that had re-formed in front of the till.

You stepped past him, quickly disappearing behind the door of the back room, where the dishwasher sat ready to be loaded.

Just as you were stepping out after rinsing the dishes and loading the washer, you were heading out from the back room when someone stopped you again.

A call of your name made you jump slightly, a small ‘jesus’ leaving your mouth before you turned to see Harry slightly invading the employee space of the café as he tried to reach out to you.

“Sorry,” he spoke, after seeing your small bit of shock. “I wanted – are you alright?”

You hated yourself for the passive answer. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Oh I just,” he paused, a slight furrow between his brow. “You seemed stressed yesterday…”

You shook your head, teeth pinching the corner of your bottom lip. “I’m fine.”

Seeing his mouth part open to speak once more, you were quick to cut him off with a motion towards the register. “I should get back – busy day.”

And then you were off without sparing him a second glance. Your heart rose to a lump in your throat, a nauseated feeling taking over your stomach that you didn’t think was due to the coffee intake.

You rejoined Aleena by the espresso machine, and saw that she in fact was not busy and was just wiping off sparse grounds from the counter top, and cleaning out milk pots.

You helped her, cleaning out the already clean baskets again to occupy yourself as you knew from the corner of your eye that Harry had walked to the till to order something and that would mean his next stop would be counter by the espresso machine to pick up his drink.

Letting Aleena make the drinks, you bent down to rearrange the mugs that sat under the counter to occupy yourself. When you stood back up to your feet after completing the menial task, you stumbled back away from the counter lightly due to the small head rush, and to the fact that Harry was leaning forward across the counter, forearms lightly resting against it.

“Doesn’t look too busy.” Although his words seemed to have a small bite to them, his tone was light and maybe the punch wasn’t intentional.

“It was…” you stated weakly, eyes briefly flitting over his before looking back down again.

There was a small pause, one far too uncomfortable for you to deal with, especially with Aleena right next to you and other customers on the other side of the counter.

“Are you upset with me? He asked you directly, his words causing you to glance back up at him.

“No, I –” you paused, unsure of what to say and not wanting to say it here. Waving your hand in a motion for him to follow, you turned on your feet and headed to the space before the back room, where the floor of the café met the floor from behind the counter.

Harry followed you from the other side, meeting you where he had stopped you a mere couple minutes ago to talk – something that seemed like you couldn’t avoid at the moment.

“Are you okay?” He repeated the question from before, as you leaned your side against the wall, arms crossed over your chest.

“Yeah, I’m just a bit stressed I guess,” you said lamely, fingers fidgeting with the hem of your sleeves. “A lot going on.”

He slowly nodded, as if not convinced by your words. “Did you want to do something after your shift, blow off some steam and relax?”

Shaking your head no, eyes dropping away from his as you couldn’t bear to look at him in the eye anymore. “I can’t, my brother is with me for the weekend.”

You darted your eyes over to where your brother actually sat not far off, oblivious to the interaction unfolding near him with his eyes glued to his laptop.

“Right, sorry I forgot.” His voice was quiet, words being followed with another moment of silence that you wished to skip through, the only noise coming from other voices in the cafe and Comment te dire Adieu playing a bit too loudly.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” He probed for the third time, the frustration in his tone starting to seep through.

“I am,” you didn’t know if he caught the slight shake in your tone, the slight shake that completely contradicted the words to leave your mouth.

“It’s just,” you paused again, all words seeming to fall out of your head as you were unable to form a sentence. Either that, or you were holding back what was about to blurt from your mouth. “I think that –

He sighed your name. “You think what? Did you want me to leave, or something?”

“I – what do you mean?”

“I don’t know, you…” he ran his free hand over his forehead, pushing some hair out the way. With a little sigh, he glanced at you again. “You’re acting like you want nothing to do with me.”

The nausea was rising from your stomach to your throat.

“I think that um, maybe you should go.”

He didn’t move. “Where is this coming from?” There was a small crack in his tone, one that made your eyes shut for a moment too long as you willed yourself not to get visibly upset.

“I’m tired… I’m tired of being someone that people just pass through.”

You dared to cast a glance at his expression, seeing a deep pull in his brows and a frown on his lips. It hurt you more than you’d like to admit.

You liked him – probably more than you’d had liked anyone, but that was something that you couldn’t think too much about. You liked him a lot and you were so afraid that your first instinct was to run and hide. You knew very well that you were succumbing to your own insecurities, that you were picking and pulling at any loose thread that could be used as a valid reason for your fears.

“What are you saying?” He asked, frustration growing in his voice as he silently begged you to look up at him. “I don’t – I don’t understand what you’re saying.”

“I just – I’m tired Harry.” You sighed, worrying the inside of your mouth. “I’m tired of being hurt…”

Voice not sounding like your own, you spoke words that were about to bring tears to your eyes. “I think you should go.”

You saw his expression twist in every which way, but he only shot you a curt nod before turning on his feet and walking away from you just as you’d suggested. It was the last thing you had wanted to see, but at the moment, at work, you couldn’t deal with anything more than that.

Taking a brief moment, you begged yourself not to start crying for the thousandth time. You made sure not to watch him leave, knowing that it would only hurt you more. Instead you watched his figure walk through the door from the corner of your eye, seeing him turn a quick corner and disappearing you’re your sight. You had no idea when you would see him again.

Wordlessly joining Aleena, you picked up one of the order slips and read over the list of three personalized drinks. Hands moving on muscle memory alone, you cleaned out espresso filled baskets and pulled two shots to start preparing the drinks.

You let your mind wander just the slightest as you steamed milk, thinking about the way you had just completely sabotaged yourself. You knew you had your own reasons for it, as crazy as they may seem.

The slight screeching sound of the milk growing too hot brought your attention back to your task. You watched as the milk was just about to bubble out of the jug, quickly twisting the dial on the steam wand to turn it off. You poured the milk as you always did into the to-go cup, with a nice little rosetta for the customer with the medium latte, before you repeated the same action over and over, making drink after drink.

You also knew that any fear you had over Harry’s ex was probably overly thought of, something that you shouldn’t be thinking about, but you just couldn’t help it. The self-deprecating part of you just didn’t see Harry wanting you to be that person to him, as much as you maybe wanted to.

So you continued to steam milk, working in perfect unison with Aleena as the workflow picked up again

Your shift continued as it always did, with nothing out of the ordinary, and soon three o’clock was rolling in and you were free to leave and do all the wallowing you could ever want to do from the peace and calm of your own room. You left along with your brother, who said he had gotten all the work that needed to be accomplished just in time.

You walked in silence side-by-side down the street, with a tea in hand from work to warm you up and your brother with another coffee. The sky was swirling with dark greys and blues, the smell of rain high in the air as if a downpour was ready to come at any moment.

“Who was that, earlier on?” Your brother asked, after a moment.

You held in a breath. “Who?”

“The guy you were talking to, in the cafe. You looked upset.”

“He’s just,” you paused. “A friend. Or we were friends, I don’t know.” You muttered, your eyes stuck on the ground as the both of you walked together.

Your brother was quiet for a second from next to you, and you thought that you had been vague enough for him to drop the subject, but no such luck. “Did you guys date?”

Pausing, again you weren’t sure how to answer. “Not really.”

Looking at your sibling next to you, you saw him watching you with a little furrow between his brows. “What do you mean, not really?”

“Like,” you sighed. “Kind of, I don’t know. We had… a thing but never really went out I guess. Either way, I think it’s over.”

“You looked upset,” he repeated, as you turned onto the steps to your apartment and searched for your keys. “Did he say something, or…?”

You shot your brother a glance, nearly smiling as you shook your head. “No, it just…” you trailed off. You kind of wished you could tell him more, but also didn’t know what to say.

You opened the door to the building, letting the two of you in before walking up the flight of stairs together to your floor.

“You can talk to me, you know.” His words caught you slightly by surprise. You wanted to be able to talk about it with him, you wanted to be someone who could talk about anything they wanted with the people that were close in their lives.

Remaining silent the rest of the way up the stairs, neither of you spoke until your apartment door shut behind you.

“I kind of fucked everything up,” you sighed, words falling free from your mouth. Your brother put down his bag on the shelf by the door, watching you as he kicked off his shoes.

“I felt – I don’t know,” you repeated the three words for the thousandth time. “Today I think I completely pushed him away.”

Your brother was quiet, leaning against the kitchen counter. “Is that what you wanted?”

“I mean,” you sighed. “No. I don’t know, maybe. The thing is, he didn’t do anything wrong, not really. And I know that, and I feel dumb for it but I just –”

You cut yourself off, hearing the small shake in your voice. You knew if you kept speaking that tears would start to fall from your eyes, always being an angry and frustrated crier.

“But now I probably fucked that up for good. It was nothing serious to begin with so I’m sure I only scared him off.”

Your brother cleared his throat, unmoving as he spoke softly. “You don’t know that.”

“I guess,” you sighed, grabbing a glass from the cupboard for some water.

“I always do this,” this time, a few tears fell past your eyes as you couldn’t do anything to hold them in anymore. “I always said I needed to be more selfish in life and let things come my way but I – I guess I was selfish because I did what I did for no reason other than protecting myself.”

“Protecting yourself?”

You wiped your cheeks with the back of your hand, slightly tilting your head back as if to blink back in the tears that were freely falling.

“I do the hurting before I can get hurt, you know?”

You squeezed your eyes shut, hoping that the rest of the tears inside your eyes would fall and you’d be done, but it didn’t seem to work quite like that. You opened them when you felt his hand on your shoulder, wrapping you in for a small side hug.

“You,” he sighed. The two of you had never been that affectionate with each other, it was something you were not used to. “You deserve more than that.”

You think that it is one of the nicest things he has ever said to you.

“I always fucking do this, you know? I don’t know why; I don’t even notice I do it until after.”

You were on a roll, now freely crying and letting everything you wanted to say fall from your mouth. “I can’t – I feel so stuck. I don’t know why I’m so afraid of everything.”

“I just can’t let myself be happy for some reason.”

His hand squeezed your shoulder. “You deserve to be happy, too.”

The two of you were quiet as you cried. Letting the tears fall down your face, chest shaking with small heaves as you let everything out.

After a moment, he asked you. “You really like him, huh?”

“What?” Your voice cracked lightly, breathing evening out as you wiped away the wet streaks on your skin.

“The guy, at your work. I don’t think you’ve ever told me about anyone you’ve dated.”

“I have too,” you muttered lightly, although you knew he was right. You had mentioned names in passing, only of the few more serious relationships you were in. Even then, the details were very sparse.

“But seriously,” he continued. “It’s okay to let yourself be vulnerable. Sometimes that’s all you can really do.”

You let him wrap you in a true hug, something you don’t think you’d done with your brother since you were young.

“Do you want to order in? It looks like the rain finally started,” he spoke after pulling away. “We can eat, watch a movie.”

You nodded, the idea of food sounding like the best thing in the world right now. “That sounds good, yeah.”

“You choose what we watch,” he nodded to you, grabbing his phone from the counter, presumably to order whatever kind of food he had in mind.

Wordlessly walking over to your couch, opening up your Netflix as you mindlessly scrolled. You weren’t really paying close attention to the titles, mind still stuck on the little breakdown you had just had.

“What was the French movie you always used to watch when you were sad? I don’t mind watching that if you want.” You head your brother call from the kitchen.

“Oh,” you hummed, nodding at the perfect suggestion. Already knowing that Netflix had Amelie, you quickly found it and had it ready to play.

“It’s a happy one, right?” Your brother spoke, as he sat next to you on the couch while you watched the rain hit the window and pulled a thick blanket over your legs.

“Kind of,” you nodded. “It is a nice ending, but it’s a kind of happy-sad movie, you know?”

“Did you not want to watch it, then?”

“No, no I do,” you offered him a small smile. “I like to watch it when I feel lonely, or upset. Plus, I almost like that happy-sad feeling, it feels just more realistic.”

There was something about it, about your self-induced melancholy. There was still something that felt right, about sitting under a heavy blanket after your wallowing, the only noise around you coming from the rain against the window and the opening notes of Yann Tiersen’s soundtrack playing.

There was something so calming and comforting about the music coming from the TV, a soundtrack you knew maybe too well considering the amount of times you had seen the movie, on top of how often you simply listened to the soundtrack itself on its own.

But a little comfort was just something you needed right now.

You had your little days of comfort, wallowing, lounging, and relaxing. Your time with your brother ended up being surprisingly pleasant, and you two left off on a good note.

You still had three more days off until you had to go back to work, Grace was coming in and covering one of your shifts since you had picked up those extra ones when no one else could.

You spent those days relaxing, getting dinner with Mae and some other friends, running errands, and cleaning out your entire apartment. The weather never changed, the rain pouring the entire time, something that you for now were enjoying because it made you feel okay for lounging at home.

But now you powered down the street as you were about to be late, with your umbrella swaying in the wind and your off-white sneakers splashing in the puddles. You felt the relaxation of your week off slipping away and a small pit of anxiety settle in.

It wasn’t about going to work that stressed you out so much, it was about the possibility of seeing someone who you usually seemed to see at the café.

Once you pushed past the heavy front door, you immediately were looking around at every table to see if you could spot the familiar figure of curly hair as he hunched over the table, twirling pencils between his fingers.

But he wasn’t there, and that table where he usually sat in the back was occupied by a middle-aged woman sipping a latte and speaking loudly on the phone.

He wasn’t there when you were steaming milk and someone was asking you about who had painted the paintings that were hanging on the walls, and he wasn’t there when you had to close alone.

The following day was the same, as well as the weekend, and the next week.

That particular Monday morning you thought you might see him, a shift where he never failed to come in even if he couldn’t sit and stay.

But the only familiar faces were those of older regulars who talked to you about the changing weather and the week of rain that was happening.

That week slipped by, just as the other had. It had been two weeks since you’d had your little breakdown, and since you’d indulged in your self-sabotaging streak. You really knew that it was the wrong thing to do, but just like everything else, you knew that this would pass.

When you really thought about it, he was just listening to you. You had basically told him to leave you alone and that was what he was doing.

But when it had been over two weeks since you’d seen him, you realized you might have had the slightest tinge of heartache.

Just as you would always do, you pushed that feeling away. Telling yourself to forget about it and move on, and that would be that. A thing of the past, a future memory.

Though things had a funny way of working out, apparently it was in store for you to see Harry again.

Nearly halfway through September, the air fresher and more crisp, another thing about the changing weather had you pleased that you could layer on a big sweater but didn’t need a thick coat.

That Monday, you were coming in for the afternoon shift, distracted by attempting to close your soaking wet umbrella when the door of the coffee shop swung open and nearly smacked you in the face.

Taking a stumbling step back in shock, the umbrella in your hand still opened with the rain hitting the top of your head because, of course, the light-knit jacket you were wearing didn’t have a hood.

“Sorry,” deep voice muttering over the sound of cars driving on the wet road, a taller figure appearing from where the door had opened. “You alright – oh –”

Head turning at the far too familiar voice, looking up to be stared down by those clear green eyes.

Fuck.

He had a big coat on just as you did, a hair seeming a bit wet as well and sticking to the skin on the side of his face. There was a little 4 oz cup in his hand, looking so much smaller than it usually did, eclipsed by the size of his hand.

Fuck.

The two of you must’ve looked a bit ridiculous, both with wide eyes and mouths agape, stuck in the doorway of a café with rain hitting the tops of your heads. But you couldn’t move, and you couldn’t walk away, and you wished that the rain would form a current and swiftly wash you away.

“Sorry,” you eventually blurted, gaining a confused look from Harry.

He had the corner of his bottom lip between his teeth, fingertips tapping against the little cup in his hands. Part of you hoped he felt as nervous as you did, but part of you also knew he was probably upset with you and wanted nothing to do with you.

“Have nothing to be sorry for…” he eventually said, words trailing off as if he wanted to say more.

Your eyes shot through the glass window of the coffee shop, knowing you were now officially late for your shift and that maybe someone would run out and tell you that you absolutely had to get to work, but again, no such luck. You could see Aleena yawning through the coffee shop opening.

Again, there was that pit of anxiety, the one that twisted your stomach and made your legs feel numb, as if you couldn’t stand straight but couldn’t move either.

“I didn’t think you were working today,” his words pulled you from your thoughts. “I uh, didn’t see you this morning and thought –”

He cut himself off, stumbling over his words, his gaze flicking away from yours. You didn’t even know what to respond, hoping that anything could get you out of this awkward encounter.

“Sorry,” he said quietly, just as you had.

You shook your head, biting your lips together. He had absolutely nothing to be sorry for.

“You –” again stopping yourself, not knowing how to say what you wanted to say. “I need to get to work…” you said instead, a small point to the door of the café that was still slightly propped open.

“Right – of course,” he took a wide step out of the way, allowing you space to walk out from the rain and to hold the door open for yourself. “Have a good shift.”

You only sent him a tight smile and a little nod, unsure of what else to say.

Not looking back, you quickly walked across the floor of the café with small squeaks coming from your wet shoes. “Oh my god,” muttered under your breath, feeling yourself heat up and grow uncomfortable under the layers you were wearing.

That entire interaction was so completely embarrassing and awkward, and nothing you wanted to ever happen.

You gave yourself a moment in the back room, hanging up your bag and coat, setting your dripping umbrella on the ground. The door pushed open slightly, Aleena’s voice speaking through the wood. “You okay?”

“Hey,” you opened the door all the way for her, hands running over your dampened hair, you sure looked a bit messy. Aleena watched you quietly for a second, as you smoothed your hands over your pants. “I’m assuming you saw that,” you said to your colleague after a moment.

“I did…” she trailed off. She knew more or less everything that had happened between the both of you, and you had no idea that he still came in and seemingly on purpose when you were not working.

You didn’t want to ask, and you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of asking -- even though that was ridiculous and he wouldn’t possibly know that you were asking about him, but you couldn’t help it. “Does he come in a lot?”

“No,” she shook her head. “First and only time I saw him was today.”

Only nodding, you grabbed your phone from the table and slid it into the back pocket of your pants. The two of you headed out of the back room, you went to clock in and Aleena stood by your side to take the order of a customer.

You followed her to the espresso machine after the order was taken, pulling a shot to make yourself a drink as well.

“He asked about you, you know,” your coworker spoke as you were watching the steady pour of espresso as she was steaming some milk. “He said he thought he’d see you when he came in – which I guess he did.”

Your ears buzzed with her words, but you let the heat in your spine settle as you remembered the reality of the situation. “Didn’t really seem like he wanted to see me.”

Aleena only shook her head, tapping the milk pot on the counter before taking a second to slowly pour it into the mug that already had espresso in it. Once she made a nice big heart with the white foam of the milk, she placed the mug down on the counter and called out the drink before facing you once more.

She looped a finger through the belt loop on your jeans, tugging you towards her tightly. “Babe you’re too hard on yourself,” she spoke as she shook you by the jeans. “He asked about you, asked why you weren’t working this morning.”

You ignored the nervous twist in your stomach at her words, and the heat that rushed to your neck. Although really, you needed to remind yourself that you should remain grounded to reality.

And that seemed to be it, for the moment at least. You had told yourself that you’d made your peace with it, although you knew that really wasn’t true, and so things continued as they always did.

But things had a way of finding the person they were intended for, and on a chilly Saturday afternoon a few days later, it was like a sign had landed right in your lap.

The day was slow, the colder weather usually slowing down clientele for a little while at least a little while. With a lull, you did as you always would and started some cleaning around the café. Wiping down tables, looking for dishes, sweeping up big messes that usually wouldn’t have to be dealt with later on in the day.

Your eyes sweeping over the side of the café, glancing at every table for any forgotten dishes or spilt drinks. Only seeing a few empty mugs left on a table in back, you walked the short distance needed to grab them and wipe over the wooden table with a dampened rag, just as something on the community bulletin board caught your eye when you casually glanced over it.

Two sheets of paper side by side, both the same, were screaming your name.

Metaphorically, of course.

They were posters made to promote an event; the name of the gallery written on top being one you were funnily enough familiar with. But that wasn’t what drew your attention in.

The design of the poster itself was minimal, the only image was front and centre. Image of a painting, one that was bright and cheery and screamed various shades of orange and yellow with a few streaks and splash of blue and green

It was the café.

“Oh my god …” muttering under your breath, you snatched one of the posters off the board as your eyes scanned over the page.

The name of the show was written over top in big bold letters, One Last Time Before You Go, with only one name written beneath it, one name you didn’t even need to read in order to know it was him. With Harry Styles, opening Tuesday September 22nd.

Forgetting the dishes you had been about to pick up, you brought your rag and the paper back to your colleagues.

“Do you know when this was brought in?”

It had to have been yesterday, it was the only day you were off. Noah had no answer for you, saying he hadn’t seen it until now. Aleena, however, had a much different answer for you.

“Oh, shoot sorry babe. I almost forgot,” she grabbed the paper from your hands as Noah went to take an order.

“Forgot what?”

You felt faint, your head was spinning. Why did he put these up here? When did he put these up? Does he come in more often when you're not working, has he asked about you more than that one time Aleena had mentioned?

“I think you know who put these up,” she clicked her tongue, flipping the page over to glance at the backside. “Wrong one…” she muttered.

“What? What do you mean wrong one?” You were babbling, questions flying out of your mouth.

She only smiled, weaving her way around you and until she was leaving from behind the counter and walking back to the bulletin board in the back where you had found it in the first place. You followed, watching her grab the identical one from the board and pin back up the one you had grabbed.

Handing it to you, she nodded her head at it. “He came in yesterday, told me to make sure you saw it. He also left a little something for you on the back.”

You glanced down at the paper in your hands, flipping it around and seeing she was right. On the back was written a note addressed to you in blocky red writing.

“I think you’d enjoy this show, and I’d love for you to be there. Hope to see you, Harry.”

Signed with a little scribbled in red heart and everything.

“Oh my god” you mumbled again, reading and rereading the note again and again.

You forgot you were still standing with Aleena. “You’re going to go, right?”

“What?” Raising your head at the sound of her voice, you saw her watching you with a smile playing on her lips. “I don’t know…”

“I’ll go with you, come on.” She raised an eyebrow at you.

“I think I close,” you stated, very weakly. The opening started at eight, and went until eleven, just like the other one. Even if you were closing, which you realized you weren’t, you would have plenty of time to go.

“No, you don’t,” she stated. “You open and I’m mid-shift. I’ll go with you, c’mon!”

You smiled at her. “You’re the best, you know that?”

“I’ll come to your place that night, and then we’ll go together, okay?”

“Okay,” you nodded slowly.

“Good.”

Three days. For three whole days it was all you could think about.

You knew you had made a bit of a mistake; you really knew that right away – as soon as you had pushed him away.

You wondered how he’d talk to you, if he’d even want to. You wondered if it would be like when you’d run into him briefly outside of the café, if it was going to be awkward and tense with nothing good to come out of it. You knew that technically he had invited you, technically. But still, you really didn’t know if any good could come of it.

Maybe Rory would be there too – tall and gorgeous and literally looking down on you – but also maybe you were just slightly spiralling.

When Tuesday finally arrived, you were practically buzzing, and it wasn’t from the amount of caffeine you had had in the morning.

You took a nap after your opening shift, showering just before Aleena came over. She brought a bottle of wine, immediately opening it and telling you to pour yourself a glass while you got ready.

The weather was still warm enough outside, but there was a brisk fall breeze in the air. Deciding to layer up just a bit since it was also dark out earlier, you pulled a chunky knit cardigan over your patterned orange dress.

After both sharing and finishing off the bottle of wine, you grabbed your beaded purse and headed out the door. You felt as though the wine had helped, but you were still bouncing with nerves. Aleena was chatting your ear off about the car her husband wanted to buy that she thought was too expensive, her story distracting you from your anxious state.

The two of you got to the gallery just before nine o’clock, purposely a bit late.

It was the same energy as the last time you were there, again a man in a red blazer stamping your hand at the entrance right after walking through the double glass doors. Aleena stuck by your side, now done with her story and telling you that you would be okay.

The first painting you saw was directly in the middle. The gallery seemed to be arranged differently than it was before, and although you knew they couldn’t have moved an entire wall, for some reason everything felt more enclosed, more tightly hugged together.

The first painting was the same as the one from the poster, except this time it was in its full size and glory and completely took your breath away. Now as you saw it larger, it was one hundred percent clear to you that it was the café Harry had painted.

“Wow,” Aleena mumbled from next to you, eyes also trained forward. The two of you slowly walked further into the space of the gallery, away from the door and towards that first painting.

It had to be at least seven feet tall, and nearly just as wide. It was all oranges and yellows, with a few streaks of blue. There were also some loosely painted figures of people in front of the shop, all vague and loose but you still wanted to know who he was basing them off of.

After spending another minute or so in front of the painting, you read the small white card that was placed next to it.

Harry Styles And I could sit here for hours. And I did. Oil on canvas, 2020

You read over the words again and again.

If you thought that was breathtaking, you were absolutely not prepared for what was to come.

As you let your eyes wander around the rest of the space, you felt like your heart was a brick in your chest, sinking through your body until it shattered on the floor to your feet.

The gallery was filled with warm hues of orange and blue.

Paintings of hands touching, heads resting on shoulders, arms wrapped around each other. Paintings of what you recognized to be the café, paintings of shared fruits, paintings of your favourite colours and your favourite places in the city.

You felt so overwhelmed and you didn’t know where to start.

Finding it in yourself to move your feet, you walked towards the nearest wall away from the entrance. From the corner of your eye you had seen a smaller piece, one that was drawing in your attention. It was slightly tucked away near two bigger paintings, but your eyes remained stuck on this particular one.

The blue was so strongly familiar, like the wave of the ocean encompassing your entire body and pulling you away with it. You realized, as you squinted slightly at the smaller canvas, just why it was calling out to you.

“You keep it,” you shook your head as Harry tried to convince you to take the barely started painting with you home.

“Are you sure?” He watched as you swung your bag over your shoulder, having slipped the light cardigan you had brought in case it got cold.

You nodded. “I couldn’t do much with it, I don’t even have paint at home.”

“Okay,” he slowly nodded, eyes falling to the ground as he placed the small canvas on the table next to him. “Guess I will need something to remember this day by.”

You only laughed, watching the way his eyes glowed with his joke, before dipping your head down and hid your smile as you slipped on your shoes. You wanted to brush off his little comment, but really it made your stomach twist with the possibility that he did really want to remember every moment of his time with you.

The feeling of his hands gripping your thighs barely an hour ago was still burned into your skin, and you were sure to find a few more streaks of paint along yours legs that a part of you was excited to see.

“Let me walk you home,” his words took you slightly off guard, not expecting the offer.

“Oh,” you stood up after tying the laces on your sneakers, “you don’t have to, I’ll be f –”

“I want to,” he cut you off, as you faced him. “And it’s late out and …” he paused, biting his lips together, “and I want to.”

“Okay,” you smile, wanting him to walk with you too. “That would be nice.”

He grabbed a lightweight black jacket that was sitting on the shelf by the door, slipping his arms through it as he held his front door open for you.

The two of you walked side by side, down the emptying street as the moon rose in the sky and the air cooled down. You discussed your day off, and what you had going on with some friends that you hadn’t seen in a while. He told you about how he had promised his friend to help him move, a feat that no one enjoyed.

“What do you think you’re going to do with that painting I started?” You asked, as your feet came to a stop in front of the stairs that led to your building.

“Hmm,” he raised his head slightly, as if thinking deeply about his answer. One of his hands rested at his side, while the other slipped around your back until he was hugging you from the side. “Think I’ll hang it above my bed.”

You let out a small laugh, feeling his hand pinch your hip. Shoving him with your elbow lightly, as if to try and push him away, but he quickly tightened his grip around you and pulled you into his chest instead.

Only laughing again, chest shaking against his and you felt his other hand wrap around you and keep you locked in close. You instinctively raised a hand to his neck, fingertips toying with the strands of hair that poked out above the collar of his jacket, while your other hand rested on his shoulder.

He kept his gaze locked with yours, smile in his features and on his lips as he mirrored your laugh. You only stared up at him, feeling like the two of you were the only ones standing on the street, like the only ones in the city.

You saw his smile die down a bit, before his lips parted slightly. You knew you were staring at his mouth, and when you finally looked back into his eyes you saw him staring at yours as well.

“Do you think things happen for a reason?”

He spoke lowly, his eyes meeting yours again. You felt as though his words carried the weight of the world, but his tone was light as he peered down at you.

“I don’t know…” you shook your head, unable to think. “Why?”

Harry only hummed, remaining quiet as he kept you pressed tight against his chest. “Do you?” You asked after a second, throat feeling dry.

His head dipped down the slightest bit, his nose nearly brushing yours. You let your eyelids close lightly, feeling his lips nudge yours as he spoke again. “Could be,” he hummed, the words pressed as kisses on your mouth.

You couldn’t remember what he was even responding to.

His lips pressed lightly with yours, a sweet kiss of opening mouths and whispers of names. His hands around your back held you tight, as he let out a shaky little sigh against your mouth.

Pulling away for a second, he murmured softly from across you.

“I think I’m starting to have a pretty good idea of what to do with that painting.”

It was the painting. He had added some details over what you had started, more than some. There was nearly an entire figure added, but it was the painting.

The one you had started with him the first time the two of you truly purposely hung out outside of the café, the second time he had kissed you. The painting you didn’t get the chance to finish because he had laid you down on the floor with his head between your thighs and his name on your lips.

Slowly walking towards it, you let your eyes scan over every stroke of the brush.

The figure on the canvas – you knew it was you. Lying there on the floor, only painted from the chest up. Your dress was blending in with the background, one arm bent with your hand resting just above your head. Face turned to the side, you had your eyes shut and your bottom lip between your teeth, though still a hint of a smile on your face.

Orange and pink highlights over your cheeks and under your jaw, lighting up your entire face as the rest of the painting was more gestural and less defined.

To anyone who looked at it, you were sure it must look like someone lying in the sun, perfectly content. You had absolutely no idea how he had captured your likeness. It was done in an extremely realistic manner, but it was you.

You glanced at the white card next to it, breath stopping in your throat when you read over it.

What did my fingers do, before they held you? Acrylic on canvas, 2020

Over the title, just as every other card in the gallery was his name. But with this particular painting, there was a little “, and” following his name, where yours was written.

You were in awe. Technically, the two of you had both put paint onto this canvas but for him to credit you?

Stuck in front of the painting for who knows how long, you had multiple people come and pass you as you stood there. It was when a familiar voice broke you out of your daze, that you finally turned around.

“It’s my favourite piece too.”

Your stomach twisted into a big huge knot. When your eyes fell to him, you felt like you had forgotten your own name.

He looked so handsome, and maybe even nervous with the way his hands were fidgeting with each other. He had a bright yellow sweater on, collar of a shirt underneath peaking through, with some light grey trousers and a longer black jacket over everything.

His hair was falling perfectly in soft curls around his face, that sweet little smile on his lips as he met your gaze.

“I was worried you wouldn’t come…” he spoke softly, fingertips rubbing over the skin of his bottom lip.

You were sure you looked like a deer in the headlights, eyes widened as you looked at him and failing to come up with anything to say.

“I was worried you wouldn’t even see that poster I put up,” he continued, after you didn’t say anything. “And that you wouldn’t have seen the note I left.”

“Aleena,” you finally spoke, voice quiet as you turned around for a second and waved your arm around to the general space behind you to motion to wherever Aleena stood. “She showed me.”

“Good, good,” he nodded, hands clasped together as your eyes met again. “That’s good.”

A small silence hung in the air, and you wanted to sink into the ground. “I actually saw the poster first,” you blurted in a quick breath, a small sigh leaving your parted lips as you paused. “I recognized your art.”

You saw a smile dance over his features, calming you down the slightest bit. “Really?”

Nodding, you couldn’t help the way your eyes darted over his features again. “Really.”

A pause in conversation again, the two of you stood facing each other, both unsure of what to say or do. “Harry I –”

You cut yourself off, just as he started to speak. “What do you –”

Another little silence hung in the air, before you cleared your throat and spoke again. “The show – it’s really…”

Again, you found yourself unable to properly finish a sentence.

Harry rocked forward on his feet slightly, a little furrow in his brow as he watched you attentively. “Do you like it?”

“It’s so,” you glanced around, completely at a loss for words. “Harry it’s so – it’s beautiful.”

His features relaxed. “Yeah?”

You nodded, feeling your nerves calm down. “Yeah. I don’t even know how you did all this,” your words trailing off as you glanced around once more. “I mean, its all…”

“You. It’s all you.”

You didn’t think you had ever heard him speak so surely about anything. Your heart twisted and jumped in your chest, pounding so heavily that you could barely focus on your breathing.

“Harry –” your voice shook, unable to finish your sentence once more as you didn’t even know what to say and you didn’t think you could properly control your voice at the moment.

He shook his head, lips pulling a bit higher in a smile, although you could still see the way his teeth anxiously pulled at his bottom lip. “Have a look around,” he spoke softly. “We can talk after?”

You nodded lightly. You didn’t deserve him.

“After.”

#i am nervous and excited !! please do come tell me what you thought !!!🥰#🥺 i hope everyone enjoyed #cb #harry styles #harry styles writing #harry syles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles smut #harry styles imagine

419 notes · View notes

just-dreaming-marvel · 3 years

Text

It’s Always Been You ~ 144

OUT OF TIME MASTERLIST

IT’S ALWAYS BEEN YOU MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 2,660ish

Summary: The time travel mission gets started.

Notes: You must read Out Of Time in order to understand this. The chapter numbers continue from Out Of Time.

“I’m going to look the suits over one last time before looking my reactor over,” Tony whispered to Y/N. “Are you going to be okay alone for a little while?”

“I’ll be fine,” she responded. “I need some time alone anyway.”

“Okay. I love you.”

“Love you too.”

They shared a brief kiss before Tony headed for the lab and Y/N went outside. She was craving a run, wanting time to short through her thoughts. She began with a slow jog, slowly increasing her speed the more she thought about everything that had happened and could possibly happen.

Rounding the track for the seventh time, she noticed Steve waiting. She rolled her eyes and pushed herself to run faster passed him. Too bad Y/N wasn’t a super soldier too, he quickly caught up with her.

“We need to talk,” Steve said, running beside her.

“I’m done talking,” she retorted, trying to push herself harder.

Steve sighed and easily caught up with her again. “Well I’m not. Can you stop for a second?”

“No.”

“Y/N, I just want to talk.”

“And I don’t want to listen.”

“Please.”

“Steve, I really don’t want to do this—“

“I’m sorry.”

Those words had Y/N skidding to a sudden stop. She was panting, too shocked to turn around. As soon as the words left his mouth, Steve had stopped. They were a few feet apart, but it felt like miles.

“What?” Y/N breathed out, slowly turning around.

“I’m sorry,” her brother repeated. “And in saying that, I know that it’s not enough. But… I’m sorry.”

“What are you apologizing for exactly? Bringing me along with you back in the 40s? Me waking up before you? You not accepting that I’m different now then I was, and that’s okay? Or for you not trusting me? For doubting me?”

“For all of it. I’m sorry that I brought you along on that world tour. I’m sorry that you fell from the ship and I couldn’t save you. I’m sorry that you had to spend years without any family members, believing that Bucky and I were dead. I can’t—“ He shook his head. “I can’t even imagine how lonely that felt. Because I woke up and I still had you. Though, you had changed…. And I’m sorry for not accepting it sooner. I… I guess I’m just hurt because you kept those things for me. Out of all people, you kept all these things from me, your twin. Your abilities, Coulson, your knowledge of the Stones… you knew so much, yet you didn’t share it…. And… And I guess I’m jealous.”

“Jealous? Of what?”

“You’ve found someone who loves you and fights for you. And you fight for equally in return. You guys lean on each other through everything, which is so admirable. And you have Morgan, who is the greatest thing. I love her so much.”

“She loves you too.”

“I want what you have… and I haven’t been able to find it. It’s killing me… the only person who I’ve ever wanted a family with was Peggy. And that’s not an option.”

“You’ll find someone better than her. I know it’s hard to believe, but you will.”

“I’m sorry, for everything. I really am.” Y/N was hesitant to believe Steve, and he could tell. “I don’t want to go into tomorrow, whatever may happen, without having cleared things up with you. I don’t want to do tomorrow without you knowing that I do love you and I do trust you…. Can you forgive me?”

Y/N bit her lips and looked away, trying to keep the emotions at bay and failing. She looked back at her brother and took a deep breath. “Yes… I forgive you.”

Steve rushed up and bear hugged his sister. She quickly wrapped her arms around him as well.

“I’m so sorry,” Steve whispered.

“I know,” she replied. “I am too. Let’s try and not be at each other’s throats constantly.”

“I think I can do that.” He pulled away, still holding onto her arms. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Putting up with me.”

“Well, I haven’t exactly made it easy on you either.”

“Right. Have you called Morgan yet tonight?”

“I haven’t, but she’s probably already in bed.”

“Do you think we could try? I want to see her, before anything happens tomorrow.”

“Good thing I have her on the line right here, Cap,” Tony stated, walking towards the twins.

“Uncle Steve!!!” Morgan squealed from the phone.

“Mo!!” Steve quickly swiped the phone from Tony. “How’s my favorite niece doing?”

“Good! Happy and Pepper let me swim in the lake today!”

“What?!” Y/N exclaimed, pushing to get into the view of the camera. “It’s October!”

“I didn’t— Morgan give me the phone,” Happy ordered. He swiped it from the little girl. “We didn’t let her! She snuck out.”

“Way to go, Mo!” Tony cheered.

Y/N smacked his arm. “Don’t encourage this,” she scolded.

“Sorry.”

“I’m sorry, momma,” Morgan said sadly, taking the phone back from Happy.

“It’s okay, sweetie,” Y/N replied. “I just don’t want you to get sick. Okay?”

“Okay… when are you and daddy coming home?”

Y/N made eye-contact with the men surrounding her before looking back at her daughter. “Hopefully tomorrow night, or the next day.”

“Yay! Will Uncle Steve be coming with you?” Y/N looked at Steve.

“Of course,” Steve answered. “I need some time with my biggest fan.”

“Yay!!!!!”

“Okay,” Tony took the phone, “it’s time to go to bed, little miss. We love you.”

“Love you 3000!”

“Love you baby,” Y/N said as Tony hung up the phone. “This is going to work, right?” She looked at the men, pleading with her eyes. “We’re going to get the Stones, bring everyone back, and no one is going to die…. Right?”

Tony cupped her face and her hands when to grab onto his wrists. “Nothing is going to happen,” Tony promised her. “We are all going to be okay. And we,” he paused for a brief kiss on her lips, “are going to get back to Morgan safely.”

“Tony’s right,” Steve agreed. Tony broke contact with Y/N’s face, bringing an arm around her waist and pulling her into his side. “We’re going to get through this.”

“I hope so,” she whispered.

~~~

Tony and Y/N said goodnight to Steve and headed straight for their room. The door had barely shut before Tony had her up against the wall and his tongue in her mouth. Y/N willing grasped onto him, letting him take control.

“I love you,” he murmured against her as they worked together to tear their clothes off. “I love you… I love you.”

“Are you trying to make up for us not having sex when we said we would?” She panted ever so slightly.

“Maybe,” he smirked, lifting her up. “Or maybe, I just want to show my wife how much I love her before we head off to the past tomorrow.” He gently laid her on the bed and he knelt over her. He ran his fingers down the side of her face. “I love you,” he repeated.

“And I love you… now, are we doing to do it? Or are you going to make me beg?”

~~~

The Team could feel the weight of their mission when they woke up in the morning. Getting geared up, everyone checked everything over numerous times. Scared to over look anything. The Team headed to the platform together, with Steve leading the charge. Bruce stopped at the control panel as the rest walked up onto the platform. They each took a position around where the opening would be, Y/N in the middle of Steve and Tony. They all looked at their Captain to say something before they headed off. With a sigh and a second to get his thoughts together, Steve began:

“Five years ago, we lost. All of us. We lost friends… We lost family… We lost a part of ourselves. Today, we have a chance to take it all back. You know your teams, you know your missions. Get the stones, get them back. One round trip each. No mistakes. No do-overs. Most of us are going somewhere we know. But it doesn't mean we should know what to expect. Be careful. Look out for each other. This is the fight of our lives. And we're gonna win.” Looking passed Y/N, Steve and Tony shared a look. “Whatever it takes. Good luck.”

“He’s pretty good at that,” Rocket commented.

“Right?” Scott agreed.

“Alright. You heard the man,” Tony said. “Stroke those keys, jolly green.”

“Tractors engaged,” Bruce responded.

Tony reached over to Y/N and tugged her into him, landed a loving kiss on her lips. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” she responded.

Bruce joined them on the platform and the quantum realm opened up. Tony and Y/N separated, looking down at the swirling colors. Natasha was smiling excitedly.

Turning to Steve, she said, “See you in a minute.”

Steve gave her a small smile in response before the Team’s helmets formed and they shrunk, entering the quantum realm. They were all together at first, until their GPS’ split the groups up to where they were heading. Tony, Steve, Y/N, Bruce, and Scott landed in New York 2012, in the midst of the Battle of New York. Their suits disappeared and Y/N immediately gasped loudly, stumbling back. Tony and Steve were quickly at her side to stable.

“Honey? Honey, talk to me,” Tony urged as Y/N’s breathing matched her rapid heartbeat. “What’s going on?”

“Th-The Stones,” she gasped. She could feel the connection forming once again. “They… I can…”

“Can you control them?” Steve questioned, trying to see if he could see what Y/N was trying to get at.

She nodded. “Yes.”

“Do you need to sit down?” Tony wondered.

“I’ll be fine. I just…” The buzzing began, making Y/N cringe. “I just need a second. But you guys can start without me. It shouldn’t be hard for me to catch up.”

“You sure?” Steve asked.

“I’m sure.”

“Alright then, we all have our assignments. Two Stones uptown, one Stone, down. Stay low. Keep an eye on the clock.”

Suddenly 2012 Hulk passed by their alleyway, smashing everything along his way. Bruce put his hand on his face, embarrassed. Steve looked at him.

“Feel free to smash a few things along the way,” Steve said.

“I think it’s gratuitous, but whatever,” Bruce muttered. He looked Y/N’s way. “You coming?”

“Yeah,” she responded. She leaned over and kissed Tony, pulling him closer by his neck. “Please be save.”

“Always,” he smirked. The two shared one last kiss before Y/N broke off and headed Bruce’s way.

“Need a lift?” Bruce asked, tearing off his shirt.

“Nah,” she grinned, opening a portal behind her. “I think I have a better way.”

“Jealous!” Scott exclaimed. “Do we have to— Ahh!!”

Scott failed to finish what he was saying, due to the fact that Y/N had opened portals beneath the others. She waved and blew a kiss as they fell through, landing them behind the Tower. She chuckled as she went through her portal, Bruce following. Closing the portal, Y/N and Bruce looked to see that they were in the Sanctum where they had met Dr. Strange.

“Hello?” Y/N said. “Is anyone—ah!”

Her trick was played on her and Bruce. The two of them falling through a portal and onto the roof.

“Careful,” the Ancient One warned. “I just had the floors waxed.”

“I’m looking for Doctor Strange,” Bruce said, him and Y/N standing up.

“You’re about… five years too early. Stephen Strange is currently performing surgery about twenty blocks that way.” She pointed. “But you should have known that already.” She looked right at Y/N. “What do you want from him?”

“That, actually.” Bruce pointed towards the necklace around her neck.

“Ah! I’m afraid not.”

“Sorry, but I wasn’t asking.”

“Maybe we should—“

“You don’t want to do this,” the Ancient One interrupted Y/N.

“Ah, you’re right, I don’t,” Bruce responded. He made a grab from he necklace. “But we need that Stone, and we don’t have time to beat it—“

The Ancient One quickly pushed Bruce’ astral form out of his body. Bruce, who now looked more human, stared at the Ancient One horrified.

“Let’s start over,” the Ancient One said, “shall we?”

“You know who I am?” Y/N asked.

“I do. But, do you know who are?”

“I’m getting there. And I’m so sorry to bug, but we really need that Time Stone.”

“No.”

“Do you know what happened?”

“I do.”

“Then you know why we need it.”

“Still, a no."

“Please, please,” Bruce, still in astral form, begged.

“I’m sorry, I can’t help you two. If I give up the Time Stone to help your reality, I’m dooming my own.”

“With all due respect, I’m not sure the science really supports that.”

The Ancient One created a projection of a long ray, simulating the flow of time. Projections of the Stones hovered above it.

“The Infinity Stones create what you experience as the flow of time. Remove one Stone and that flow splits,” she explained before she plucked the Time Stone projection away and pointed at the diverging line. “Now, this may benefit your reality, but my new one… not so much. In this new branched reality, without our chief weapon against the forces of darkness, our world will be overrun. Millions will suffer. So, tell me, can your science prevent all that?”

“No, but we can erase it,” Bruce retorted. “Because once we are done with the stones, we can return each one to its own timeline at the moment it was taken. So, chronologically,” he held the Time Stone projection, “in that reality,” he set it back, “it never left.” The diverging line disappeared.

“But you are leaving out the most important part. In order to return the Stones, someone would have to survive.”

“We will. I will. I promise.”

“I can’t risk this reality on a promise. It is the duty of the Sorcerer Supreme to protect the Time Stone.” She turned away.

“Then, why the hell did Strange give it away?”

She turned back, shocked. “What did you say?”

“Strange, he gave it away,” Y/N repeated, surprised that the Ancient One didn’t know since she seemed to know everything. “He gave it to Thanos.”

“Willingly?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“We have no idea,” Bruce answered. “Maybe he made a mistake.”

“Or I did.” She returned Bruce into his body and opened her necklace, revealing the Time Stone. “Strange is meant to be the best of us.”

“Ancient One, please trust us,” Y/N pled. “I am realizing now you only know so much, but you know what I am meant to do. And I cannot do it without the Stones. They were destroyed and I have no access to them. We need the Stone so that we can bring everyone back and… and so that I can complete whatever calling the Stones have put upon me… Strange knew the calling as well. So he must have given the Time Stone away for a reason.”

“I fear you might be right.” She handed Y/N the Time Stone.

“I’m counting on you two. We all are.”

“Thank you.”

Y/N handed the Stone over to Bruce, who had something to put it in. Bruce nodded before pressing a button and disappearing. Before Y/N could follow after him, the Ancient One called out to her.

“Y/N.” Y/N stopped and turned. “Before you go, you might want to check on your husband and brother.”

“What? Is something wrong?”

“Just go to their meeting place. And, Y/N, be careful.”

next chapter >

I appreciate all likes, comments, asks, and reblogs! Thank you for all the positive support!

If you want to be added to the tag list, please dm me or send in an ask.

IT’S ALWAYS BEEN YOU TAG LIST:

BOTH:

@23victoria

@azure23x

@booknerd-3000

@thewidowsghost

@tuttifuckinfruttifriday

@i-dumb-bitch

@marinettepotterandplagg

@booksarebae2000

@roxytheimmortal

@love-couldbe-my-weakness

@bellamy-barnes

@loveisallyouneed1125

@paintballkid711

@stuckupstucky

@austynparksandpizza

@sydney-m

@fangirl-swagg

@livinglikebritishroyalty

@cspr-2

@supernaturallover2002

@laic2299

@aubreeskailynn (won’t link)

@capstopavenger

@bestofbucky

@irishfaulk97

@a--1--1--3

@marauvdersfate

@hallecarey1

TONY:

@bispences

@topstory21

@supernatural-bangtanboys

@marvellover04 (won’t link)

@rapunzelskywalker1234 (won’t link)

@theofficialzivadavid

@emmuut

@mikariell95

#tony stark x reader #tony stark x rogers!reader #tony stark imagine #marvel x reader #the avengers x reader #avengers x reader #marvel imagine #marvel imagines #avengers endgame #endgame #steve rogers x sister!reader #steve rogers x reader #iron man x reader #iron man imagine #iron man fanfiction #Tony Stark fanfiction #marvel fanfiction

140 notes · View notes

jessikahathaway · 3 years

Text

Into Eternity - FINAL

So, oh my gosh this is actually happening???

I have been writing this story for three years and it honestly has gotten me through so much? I love these characters and to give them an ending has brought me so many emotions. Thank you to everyone who has read and has loved these characters as much as I have.

Now buckle up, for the finale.

Pairing: Jimin X Reader

Genre: Romance, Fantasy, Royalty!AU

Words: 8,877

Warnings: Attempted Suicide (it isn't graphic, but it's there so please be aware of that), Explicit Sexual Content, Pregnancy, Pregnant Sex, Unprotected Sex (She preggie, but y'all be careful), Creampie, Dirty Talk. Birthing Scene (Not terribly graphic but just be aware), the fluff we've all been waiting forrrrr! (If I forgot anything please do let me know!)

It had been a week since the fight with Morgana and your death.

Jimin hadn’t been coping well at all.

Taehyung entered the bedroom where they had set you after the fight. Father Jin redressed you and washed your hair, but other than that you hadn’t moved or breathed. Nothing to note that you were alive. Father Jin had resigned himself to his room and hadn’t come out. Jungkook was training for hours on end and Taehyung was too busy trying to keep Jimin alive to do much else.

Hoseok had sent for more guards and they arrived soon after. Although they weren’t allowed inside the palace. No one was to come near, Jimin would have them beheaded.

Taehyung saw the same sight he’d seen for the last week. Jimin, at your bedside, waiting.

“Sire,” Taehyung announced his entrance.

“Taehyung,” Jimin answered softly.

“I brought you something to drink and a bit of porridge, will you eat it?” He asked, looking down at the small mugs in his hands.

“Yes, I’ll eat,” Jimin answered.

Turning around Taehyung sighed as he saw the dark bags under his eyes. The look of exhaustion that filled his frame was overwhelmingly sad. Taehyung knew his friend, and he was a shadow of himself. As if he were slowly dying without you with him.

But Taehyung pressed on, a smile coming across his features.

“Here you are,” Taehyung said, setting the mugs in his hands.

Jimin ate slowly, methodically. As if it was a chore to be doing so.

Taehyung wondered if he tasted it, his eyes were so devoid. It was like he was a skeleton walking around. No joints or ligaments, just bones clacking together. The way he moved was awkward and ungraceful, nothing like the Prince he knew. One thing was for certain.

He missed you.

“Jimin, do you want to take a bath?” Taehyung asked, looking at his friend’s appearance.

“No,” he said quietly.

“It’ll take a few minutes, please,” Taehyung urged.

“I’d rather not right now,” Jimin almost whispered.

“It’s okay, perhaps later,” Taehyung gave in, knowing that it wouldn’t happen later either.

“Taehyung,” Jimin’s voice was stronger this time.

“Yes, sire?”

“Do you think she’s really dead?”

“I don’t-”

“Perhaps this is what they wanted for me. To suffer without her,” he said bitterly.

“Don’t think so lowly of your ancestor, he tried to do what he could for you both,” Taehyung admonished.

“Perhaps I should die as well, join my beloved where we can be free together,” Jimin said, laying his head down on the bed, and gazing at you with misty eyes.

“Jimin!” Taehyung yelled.

Jimin flinched but didn’t move.

“I don’t think this is what Y/N would’ve wanted for you. She wouldn’t want to watch you starve yourself. She would want you to lie here and wait for something that might not happen. She’d want you to go out and live your life. To go out and be happy. Jimin, please listen to me. The way you’re treating yourself isn’t anything like what Y/N would’ve wanted for you. She loved you so much, and wanted nothing but the best for you. So for you to disrespect her wishes like this... It makes me sad, Jimin, truly it does.”

“So you do think she’s dead,” Jimin whispered.

“Jimin,” Taehyung said.

“Get out,” Jimin demanded softly.

“Jimin listen.”

“Get out Taehyung!” Jimin screamed, standing up.

Taehyung didn’t waste anymore time, slamming the door before he left.

It was the day of your funeral...

Jimin had fought tooth and nail to make sure he never saw this day, but here it was. It had been two weeks since your death. And Father Jin said it was time to lay you to rest. Jimin had denied it at first, but now, there was an eerie calm that settle over the palace. Jimin was silent, save for the few words he spoke to Taehyung. But other than that, no words left the man.

“We are here today to lay to rest a soul who has touched all of us in many ways,” Father Jin began.

You were laying in your coffin, beautiful as the day Jimin first saw you. The maids had braided gorgeous ribbons in your hair, and graced your face with the smallest amount of makeup, enhancing that natural beauty you had. Jimin’s eyes were filled with tears as he looked at you. His beloved bride, going so soon. And it was his fault you were dead. Because he couldn’t protect you.

“Jimin,” Taehyung whispered, nudging his friend.

“I’m fine,” he whispered back, wiping his eyes gingerly.

“Lady Y/N was a tender soul. Someone who wanted nothing but to share love and happiness wherever she went. I had the pleasure of knowing her, and I will forever miss her and her laughter. She is with God now, and I will take comfort in knowing that. May God rest her soul.”

Father Jin stepped away from the casket, Namjoon taking his place.

“Lady Y/N was fearless, and bright. Always willing to lend a hand to those in need. I failed her a guard and I will forever be unworthy. But as I continue on with life I will live for her, I will live with her in mind so that no one will ever suffer the same fate. I will protect the Royal family for the rest of my days, and will forever ask for forgiveness that I wasn’t able to protect them this time. Lady Y/N, I am so sorry. May you grace us with your love and kindness, so that we may forgive ourselves as well. You will be missed, dearly,” Namjoon said.

The rest of the proceedings went on, yet Jimin felt numb.

You lay there before him, so close yet out of reach. His soul yearned to reach out for yours, longing to touch you, to hold you. To bring you into his embrace and care for you as you did for him. When it was finally his turn to save you, he failed...

“Y/N was a beautiful person,” Taehyung began.

“She was smart, funny and a true joy to be around. I remember the first time I met her. She was outspoken, yet, in the best way. She challenged all of us to be better. To think more, to be more. She challenged me to be the best version of myself, and all I can say, is that I will continue to be the best person I can be. I will remember her fondly, and I will always be grateful for what she has done for me and my friends. May God rest her soul,” he repeated.

Yoongi spoke next, saying little but it was enough. Although Jimin still felt as though something was wrong. Something was terribly wrong.

Soon, it was Jimin’s turn to speak.

He felt awkward as he went to the front to speak. He took a deep breath in and imagined you, holding his hand. The warmth that suffused him gave him the strength to speak.

“Y/N was... everything to me. Never have I loved like I loved her. She was beautiful, caring, sweet and... maddening. She challenged everything I knew about myself. Everything I ever thought I knew, and she changed me. Y/N changed me for the better. She made me believe that I could do anything, be anything. No matter what I thought about myself, she always believed in me. More than I did. Y/N was knowledgeable. She loved to read, I promised her a library. That way she could read without me getting in her way, I had a way of interrupting her at the most important part of the book she’d tell me...” Jimin laughed, tears coming down his cheeks. “I love her so much, even now I love her so dearly and so fiercely that this all feels wrong. To be burying her feels like a foreign concept to me that I cannot accept. I-I... don’t want this to be it.”

“Y/N, I love you. Please forgive me,” Jimin said, taking out a vial.

It was poison. Jimin had planned to end his life here. Perhaps that was what had felt so wrong the whole time. The fact that he knew he’d be ending his life in front of his friends brought him no comfort. He only felt guilt, but he couldn’t bear another day without you here. It wasn’t feasible to him. It was everything he could do to stand right now.

“Jimin no!”

“I love you, Y/N,” he whispered, bringing the vial to his lips.

“I love you too,” a soft voice answered.

Before Jimin could turn around, Namjoon and Jungkook tackled him to the ground, taking the vial from his hands.

“No!” Jimin fought back, thrashing around like a child.

“Sire please!” Jungkook said, reaching for the vial.

“Jimin?”

Everyone froze.

Jimin looked up to see you, his beloved bride, sitting up in your casket.

“Y/N?” he whispered. Unable to believe his eyes.

“Jimin? What’s going on?” you asked, looking around. From your standpoint, you felt like you’d been asleep for a very long time. As if you’d be put under a sleeping spell or something along those lines. But now, you felt better than ever, as if you were refreshed for the first time in a long while.

“Y/N...” Jimin said, looking at you in disbelief.

“Jimin, what am I doing in here?” you asked, placing your hands on the side of the coffin.

“My love,” Jimin said, standing up and coming to your side. You looked up and smiled, so glad to see him.

“Hi,” you said, placing your hand on his cheeks. He’d been crying, you could tell.

“Y/N,” he whimpered, wrapping you up in his arms and cradling you to his chest.

“Jimin?” you asked, trying to push him back so you could look at him. But he held you firm.

“My darling, I thought I lost you,” he said, tears falling down his cheeks so freely.

“I don’t understand, the last time I saw you I was... How am I here?” you asked, looking around.

“It doesn’t matter, my love, it doesn’t matter. What matters is that you’re here now,” he whispered, wrapping his arms around you.

“But Jimin,” you started.

“Shhh,” he shushed, tangling his fingers in your hair. “I love you, so much,” he said, tilting your head up.

“I love you too,” you said back, but before you could say much else his lips were on yours. Jimin wasted no time, pulling you from the coffin without much difficulty. Jimin had you in his arms and like hell he was ever going to let you go again.

Slowly he pulled away and let his head rest against yours.

“Can you stand?” he asked, placing your feet on the ground.

“I think so,” you answered. Carefully, you took a step, almost falling to the ground if it wasn’t for Jimin’s strong arms keeping you up.

“Maybe not just yet darling, let me carry you,” he said, sweeping you up into his arms.

“Jimin!” you gasped, hanging onto his neck, not wanting to fall.

“I’ve got you,” he said, starting to carry you back towards the palace. The rest of the men there did nothing but watch as Jimin carried you in his arms.

“I never thought that this marriage would work out,” Taehyung said softly, looking at the disappearing silhouette of you and Jimin.

“Well, never say never I guess,” Namjoon said back, crossing his arms.

“I’m glad it worked out, Jimin deserves to be happy,” Jungkook commented.

“They both deserve it,” Father Jin said, smiling.

Your coronation was creeping up on you.

You and Jimin both would be crowned King and Queen of Arcane Kingdom. The people would be yours to govern and yours to care for. They were now your responsibility and duty. It weighed heavily on you, the stress of being a Royal. But you didn’t let it show, because you had been given a second chance at life another try.

No one gets that lucky.

But you did. And you weren’t going to waste it.

After everything that had happened, you were still so glad that you were with Jimin. Able to call him yours. It made your heart sing knowing he was your partner in all of this, your husband and truest love.

A knocking at the door shook you from your thoughts.

“Lady Y/N,” Father Jin said from the other side of the door.

“You can come in Father,” you said, putting your hairbrush down as you turned to face the door.

“I’m here as you requested,” he said, holding his bible and other various things you’d requested.

“Wonderful, I need your help,” you said, moving towards the bed.

Father Jin looked at you with confusion.

“It’s been two months and I haven’t bled yet. I-I was hoping you could find out if I was with child?” You said softly.

Father Jin almost fainted on the spot.

“W-With child? My dearest Y/N are you sure?” He asked coming forward.

“I’ve been having symptoms, the nausea in the morning, wanting weird foods and of course not bleeding but, I just wanted to know. I know if I have the palace physician check and I am pregnant he’ll run and tell Jimin. I want to tell him myself, it’s our possible child,” you said.

Father Jin beamed at you, quickly getting his materials ready.

“It would by my absolute honor my Lady,” he said. You smiled.

He busied himself with usual questions and looking at your stomach.

Finally Father Jin smiled brightly at you.

Biting your lip hard you heard his answer.

“My dear Lady Y/N, congratulations. You’re with child,” he said. Tears burst from you quickly, unable to handle the emotion of the whole situation.

You had been so worried that perhaps Morgana killing you would ruin your chances at having a child with Jimin. And considering you two had been having plenty of intimate moments, it was starting to become a fear.

But now...

Now you’re pregnant. With Jimin’s child.

Everything you’ve ever wanted and more.

“Father Jin,” you cried, hanging onto him so tightly. He pet your head gingerly, making sure you were alright before pulling back.

“Your timeline is correct, you are around two month pregnant,” he said, looking at your stomach with nothing but sheer adoration.

“I’ve been so worried,” you hiccuped.

“It’s alright Y/N, you are pregnant. And may the Lord bless you and your unborn child,” he said softly.

“Can you please keep this between us?” You asked.

“I won’t tell a soul,” he agreed.

“Thank you Father, truly, thank you so much.”

—

You were incredibly giddy for the rest of the week. Everyone had taken notice of your spunk and lively attitude. The stoic Yoongi even asked what had you all excited.

You just brushed it off, telling them you’d read a really good book or just ate something delicious. You wanted to tell Jimin so badly. But he was nowhere to be found no matter how hard you looked. The only time you were with him was when he crawled into bed with you early in the morning. Wrapping himself around you and keeping you close to him.

But he was always gone before you woke up.

You knew he was getting ready for the Royal coronation coming up soon, but it still made you a little sad. The distance.

However, you had planned it perfectly.

Jimin’s favorite lace night dress was wrapped around your body. A soft pink dressing gown over top. The man enjoyed unwrapping you like a present.

It was everything you could do not to just run to him in his study and proclaim your pregnancy to him then and there. But you oh so loved the look on his face when you gave him surprises.

Teasing little hints.

It was already late into the night, but you were determined to stay up and see your husband. It was moderately boring in your bedroom, alone, but it wouldn’t be lonely for long...

Just as you thought about going out on the balcony for some fresh air, you heard Jimin enter the room. You hadn’t seen him awake in a few days so you rushed over immediately to see him.

“Jimin!” You said, rushing to bring him into your arms.

Jimin smiled, looking exhausted, but happier now that he got to see you.

“Y/N, it’s late. What are you doing up?” He asked, kissing the top of your head with such tenderness it made your heart ache.

“Wanted to see you,” you mumbled, cheek pressed against his shoulder.

“Well, you’ve seen me. But I think it’s time for bed,” he said, removing his tunic and draping it along the chair of your vanity.

“Can we talk first? There is something important I have to tell you,” you said, taking his hand in yours.

“Is something wrong?” He asked, rubbing your knuckles with his thumb.

“Just sit down,” you said, moving him towards the bed. Jimin sat down heavily, looking up at you with a gentle smile.

“Alright my love, what did you want to discuss,” he said, rubbing his face.

He was utterly worn out, and you could see it on his face. But you knew what you were about to say would make it all worth it. It would be okay.

“Jimin, I want you to know something,” you swallowed hard. Trying to keep your emotions from becoming too much.

“Y/N? Are you okay?” He asked.

“Yes, I’m fine Jimin. But, I want you to know how much I love you. How much I adore waking up in the morning next to you. And how much I love being your wife,” you said, bringing your hand to his cheek softly.

“I love you too,” he said, a smile appearing on his weary features.

“Jimin, I-I...” you stammered, trying to find the words to get them out. Jimin frowned at your flustered attitude. Normally you could tell him anything, he wondered what had gotten you so worked up.

“Jimin,” you said, walking closer. His sparkling eyes looked up at you and you so hoped the babe in your stomach would inherit those beautiful eyes.

“Jimin I’m with child,” you said, bringing his hand to your stomach.

Jimin’s whole demeanor changed instantaneously.

“What?” He croaked, looking up into your eyes with so much hope.

“Father Jin confirmed it,” you said.

“Y-You’re really pregnant?” He asked, looking at your stomach with a multitude of emotions running across his face.

“Yes,” you said.

“Oh my God, Y/N,” he cried, bringing you into his arms. Big fat tears were rolling down his face, catching in your hair and dressing gown.

“It’s okay, Jimin it’s alright,” you said, holding him tightly.

“I’ve waited for so long to hear those words from you,” he whimpered.

“I was worried that... possibly I couldn’t after-you know. But, I-I know they’re healthy, I can feel it,” you said brightly.

“I know they are too, my love. You’ll care for them so well, they’re going to be so perfect. You’re perfect,” he said, bringing his lips to yours gently.

Smiling into the kiss you attempted to deepen it, longing for your husband's touch. But Jimin quickly pulled away.

“I’m so exhausted my love, would it be okay if I just held you tonight? Both of you?” He asked, looking down at your stomach with so much love it made your heart stammer.

“Of course, Jimin, that’s always okay,” you said.

You both went to bed, sharing innocent pecks and warm words of love for each other.

It was so perfect.

—

Being pregnant was rather grueling task, you’d found out.

There were the weird food cravings. The palace chefs could hardly keep up with you. Then the constant nausea that had plagued you and often made you miss out on certain meals. And the aching of your back and feet was another problem.

But the love you felt for the being inside of you right now, was more than you could’ve ever dreamed.

Although, there was another symptom of your pregnancy that had been particularly hard to handle.

You were ravenous for your husbands touch.

Except, he hadn’t really wanted to do anything like that with you for a while... the last time you two had been intimate was when you made this baby. And that was five months ago.

Now that you were coming into a different stage of your pregnancy, everything was getting harder. Clothing yourself, putting on shoes. It was all so taxing and you mainly wanted to rest.

Unless Jimin was there.

In which case you wanted him to ravish you until the morning came.

But, for some reason, he didn’t feel the same.

Of course he loved you, this wasn’t something you doubted. But he was very busy and you were already pregnant so what was the point in engaging in those kinds of activities if the end goal was achieved... right?

You knew Jimin loved you, he said it and showed it often. But you wished he would take you to bed and pleasure you. Let you have as much of his cum as you wanted. However, something was stopping him.

And you were determined to find out what.

Walking through the palace halls you found your husband admiring the gardens out in front of the castle. Jimin loved seeing the flowers blooming and flourishing with colors. Made him feel light inside.

You came up beside him and looked at the flowers with him. He smiled at you, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and bringing you close.

The two of you stood like that, in silence for a few moments before you decided to speak.

“Jimin,” you said, keeping your eyes trained outside.

“Yes my love?” He answered, looking at you with pure joy.

“You seem distant lately,” you said, wrapping your arm around his waist.

“Have I? I thought we’d been spending quite a lot of time together... although if you’re feeling neglected I can see if I have more time to spare-”

“I-uh... I’ve noticed that we haven’t been... intimate since we conceived and I was just wondering, if you simply weren’t attracted to me being like this? Or if it’s because we’re already pregnant so there’s no need to try anymore or, um, something else maybe?”

Jimin’s face looked mortified as he tried to gather his scrambled mind and unprepared thoughts.

“Y/N, love no! Of course not! I absolutely adore being intimate with you! And not attracted to you? I-I can’t hardly control myself when I’m around you. Pregnant and swollen with my child,” he said, almost growling out the last part.

“Then why Jimin? Why haven’t you been touching me? Letting me touch you! What’s going on?” You asked, wondering what was causing the distance between your husband and you.

“T-the palace physician warned me about being with you like that, I don’t want to hurt you or the baby,” he said softly.

“But it’s not dangerous-Father Jin was encouraging me to, well as much as he would encourage someone to be intimate...” you said. “He said we should be... with one another as much as we can. It’s good for us to relieve the stress and I’ll never complain about you showing your love to me and my love for you.”

“But, what if I go too hard? What if I, I don’t know, make the baby come early? Or what if-”

“Jimin, my love, these are a lot of what ifs. Not a lot of what will... Nothing will happen to me or the child. That I can promise you,” you said, holding your distended stomach with affection. “You’d never hurt us.”

The young King looked so torn. Like he truly didn’t know what to do.

“I’m just... I’m worried about you,” he said softly, resting his forehead against yours.

“I’m tough,” you said, squeezing his hand gently.

“I know, God I know how strong you are. More than fit to be the Queen of this Kingdom, my wife, my equal... But, carrying a child is no small feat,” he said, brushing your hair off your face.

“It isn’t but I’m not doing it alone,” you said, wrapping your arms around his neck. “You’ve been with me every step of the way. We had rocky beginnings, but look at where we are now. Look at how much we’ve overcome and how much we will overcome in the future. It’s incredible, Jimin. You are the ruler that destroyed the witch Morgana,” you said.

“Actually, you’re the one who dealt the killing blow on that one, I just get all the credit cause I’m the King. Unfair if you ask me,” Jimin laughed lightly.

“What I’m saying is, you’re so brave, stubborn and wickedly smart. Surely you can think of a way in which we can be intimate and it not harm me or the babe?” You said, biting your lip.

“Don’t do that, I’ve been having dreams about your sweet mouth,” he groaned.

“Mmm, have you? Perhaps I should give it to you then, hmm?” You teased.

Jimin was a rather dominant person, but you’d discovered that sometimes he likes to be pushed around in bed. Told what to do and to be praised. It wasn’t something you’d been entirely good at to start, but, with a little practice you’d gotten the hang of it.

“My love,” he croaked.

“Jimin, I know you. I know how careful and gentle you can be. I’ll tell you if anything hurts or if I’m uncomfortable. But please, please take me to bed,” you begged.

Finally, it seemed you broke through. Because soon, you were being practically dragged down the hallway. Jimin’s grip on your wrist was tight, but not enough to hurt. You smirked as he hauled you into the bedroom, shutting the door firmly behind the two of you.

“God, look at you,” he murmured, coming forward to place his hands on your swollen belly. “So beautiful, so perfect carrying my child.”

“All yours,” you agreed, humming as his lips touched your neck.

“And I’m yours,” he said softly.

“Take this off,” you pleaded, tugging at his shirt with disdain. Giving you a coy grin, he pulled the shirt off and threw it on the floor. You ran your hands over his beautiful body, teasingly pinching his nipple, causing him to flinch.

“Little sprite, I’ll teach you to tease me,” he growled. Wetness pooled between your legs. Jimin came forward, finally connecting your lips.

Kissing Jimin was something you’d never tire of. You were certain. The way his plush lips moved over yours with reckless abandon make you squirm. His mouth captured your own, pulling you into a romantic embrace as the pair of you shared your breath.

“Jimin,” you whispered as he pulled away.

“What is it my love? What do you desire?” He asked, moving his lips along your jawline.

“Whatever you’ll give me, I want it all,” you pleaded.

“My my, so greedy. What a greedy Queen I have,” he tutted. You whined at his tone, wanting nothing more for the clothes between you to be removed.

“I just want you, only you,” you pleaded.

“You have me my love, all of me,” he said, kissing you softly. You wrapped your arms around his neck, cradling his head. You felt the back of your bed against your knees, forcing you to sit down while Jimin kissed you with such ferocity it made your poor core clench tightly around nothing.

“And you have all of me in return,” you smiled. Jimin pushed you onto your back, making you stare at the ceiling. Your heart was hammering so hard in your chest, you could feel it in your throat.

“I-Is it okay if I pleasure you? With my mouth?” He asked, looking at you beneath his long lashes. You smiled and brushed his hair from his face gently, but this was not without difficulty, you swollen tummy proving to be an obstacle.

“Mmm, that does sound nice. But, you have had me wait five months for you. I’m slightly tempted to skip the foreplay and go right for the main event,” you mused, watching as Jimin’s eyes inflated slightly. You smiled at his obvious desire for you, before you sat up and undid the ties at the front of your gown. Jimin watched as your chest relaxed, breasts bigger than they were before you’d gotten pregnant.

“I-If you’re wet enough,” he said, licking his lips.

“Why don’t you check?” You said, peeling your dress from your shoulders and easing the fabric down. Jimin moved so you could wiggle out of the offending material and lay naked on the bed. He was astounded and slightly concerned that you hadn’t been wearing any undergarments underneath.

“Oh my beautiful wife, how lucky am I to have someone like you...” he trailed off, gazing at your center with wanton desire.

“I’m just as lucky, if not more so,” you smiled, tugging on his ashy locks, earning you a warning grunt in response.

“A husband who neglects his wife for months on end? Surely you jest with me,” he chuckled sadly.

“You are more than attentive. Sometimes smothering, but never neglectful. Jimin listening to the palace physician isn’t wrong. He just happens to think he knows everything while Father Jin has had actual experience with pregnancy and birth. By the way, he will be delivering our child, not that ridiculous palace physician. I’d rather not have him near me when I’m giving birth,” you huffed, pouting slightly.

“Oh? I see, who else did you want there while you deliver? I know I should’ve asked this but-”

“You, Father Jin to deliver and Jungkook as well as Taehyung. Yoongi and Namjoon, and... Hoseok,” you said pondering for a moment.

“Those are all men, Y/N,” Jimin reminded, pouting from above you.

“And? Hoseok is our Godfather for the child, I believe he should be there. Jungkook is good in a crisis and also has knowledge of pregnancy and birth from his mother. Taehyung is such a dear friend, I certainly want him there. Yoongi is always calm and collected, and Namjoon would just feel left out if I didn’t include him!”

“You missed one,” he frowned.

“Of course I want you there silly. It’s your fault I’m like this, so you’re going to be there for the whole thing, no stepping out and no leaving me, understood?” You asked, raising a brow at him. Jimin just nodded.

“It’s not just my fault you’re like this, I don’t ever recall you saying no,” he snarked.

“I’m also not saying no now, if we could get back on track?” You asked, bringing his hand to your throbbing center. Jimin seemed to get the message as he rubbed his fingers along your slit, collecting your slick between the pads of his fingers and your skin.

“My love, so ready for me,” he murmured, coming in closer to kiss your neck. You let out a sigh of pleasure, running your hands down his back, scratching along the skin gently, causing goosebumps to rise in your wake. He groaned as you gripped his ass in your palms, causing him to rut forward like a pup in heat. You smirked at his enthusiasm, squeezing once more before he whined against your skin.

“Oh!” You gasped as he entered one finger inside your tight heat. A soft groan came from his cherry red lips, causing you to clamp down on the digit inside of you. Jimin moved his finger gently, stretching your hole out carefully. Everything he did, he did with purpose. It made your heart stammer in your chest as you could feel another finger slipping in next to the first one.

“So tight,” he growled, pumping in and out of you with a delicious tempo that had your hips grinding down against his hand. “You’re soaking the bed my darling.”

“I-I can’t help it, you feel too good,” you moaned.

“Mm, you sure I can’t have a taste? Just a little bit wouldn’t hurt,” he whispered against the shell of your ear. You wanted so badly to encourage his devilish mouth, but you gripped his wrist and forced him to stop moving those dangerous fingers inside of you.

He looked worried for a moment. But you smoothed your thumb over his brow.

“I can’t wait any more, please don’t make me wait,” you whined, humping against his fingers. “Give it to me, please. Fill me up.”

Jimin’s eyes turned dark as he pulled his hand away from your center. Watching with rapt attention you saw him take his sticky digits and put them in his mouth, sucking lewdly on your arousal. Jimin made a show of it. Licking and sucking on his fingers, trying to get every last drop of your essence off of his fingers. He was also proving that he could pleasure you with his mouth if you’d only let him.

“You want my cock? Want it so bad huh? My beautiful Queen, you want it? Huh? Tell me why I should give it to you?” He said, eyes glazing over as you presented yourself on all fours for him.

“Because, I’ve been so good for you. I’m carrying your baby, so pregnant and full, but not full enough. I need more, more of your cum Jimin. Want more of it leaking from me, please, remind me how you got me pregnant. Please, won’t you give me your cock? Your cum? Please, I want it so badly,” you pleaded.

Jimin’s eyes darkened further. He knew you were good at begging, it was one of his favorite things to teach you, because you learned so quickly what he liked. And he would never be able to deny such an earnest request.

“If that’s what you want my love, then you’ll have it. Have me,” he agreed, moving off the bed to push his pants and underwear to the ground before coming back to the bed. You felt his presence behind you, smoothing over your back gently. “Is this position okay? Or do you need something different?” He asked, kissing your shoulder.

“This is okay, I’m comfortable,” you encouraged. “Now, fuck me.”

Jimin needed no further words as he sank into you slowly for the first time in months. The pair of you breathed out heavy sighs as you finally felt the fullness you’d been craving for weeks. Jimin choked on a moan when you flexed your walls around him, making him buck into you a little harsher than expected.

“Sorry! I haven’t-Since we haven’t been doing anything I haven’t even pleasured myself, I haven’t had the time, you feel so good around me, fuck,” he moaned out, gripping your hips firmly.

“It’s okay, I won’t last long. I’ve missed you so much,” you moaned, your fists tightening in the bed sheets beneath you.

“Oh shit,” he growled, bucking into you again, building a steady rhythm that had your chest jolting almost painfully. Your core was soaking, and Jimin wasn’t letting up. He was fucking into you so hard some of your arousal was falling down your thighs.

“Jimin, harder,” you pleaded, head falling into the mattress. Your husband didn’t have to be told twice as he started rutting into your wet heat with vigor.

“I’ve been thinking about this everyday since you told me you were pregnant,” he snarled, pulling all the way out just to force himself back in once more. You cried out when his fingers found your clit, causing you to grind back against him. The air rushed from his lungs as he watched you practically use him for your own pleasure.

“Everyday? Then why didn’t you do anything?” You whined, bouncing back against him harshly. Jimin swallowed hard as he tried to stave off his looming orgasm.

“Because the physician... I was worried I’d hurt you or the baby, like I said earlier. But now that I know this is safe, don’t expect to be able to walk for a while,” he warned, pulling on your sensitive nipples gingerly. You cried out into the mattress when milk started to leak down Jimin’s hand. He watched as the pearly white substance soaked the sheets beneath you like your arousal had earlier.

“Fuck! Jimin, keep going please!” You begged when he got distracted by your chest practically flooding the bed.

“Have you not been expressing the milk? Doesn’t it hurt?” He asked.

“Yes, it aches so much during the day and I’m so sensitive when I try to sleep. Sometimes I wake up and my nightdress is soaked from milk,” you whined, trying to reach for him so he would keep pounding into you.

“Mm, since I didn’t get to have a taste of your pussy... Maybe you’ll let me have something else instead,” he teased, licking the milk off of his hands and groaning when it hit his tastebuds.

“More, please more!” You begged. Jimin noticed your frantic bouncing and eased you into a spooning position. He was still throbbing inside of you, but you could feel his head come to your shoulder, placing soft kisses against it.

“Let me drink from you, it must hurt my darling. So full and heavy with milk for our child, but they can share, surely?” He teased, kissing the side of your breast while giving shallow thrusts to your womanhood.

“You can have it, whatever you want as long as you keep fucking me. Please, Jimin, I’m so close,” you whimpered. Sensing your urgency Jimin started his brutal pace back up. You cried out in bliss when his mouth met your sensitive nipple. Jimin gently suckled at your chest, causing more milk to enter his mouth.

He groaned at the flavor and gave a few sharp ruts into your clenching pussy. You were besides yourself with pleasure, almost in tears at all the stimulation.

Jimin wasn’t doing much better. Five months without even masturbating was proving to be his end far too quickly.

“Y/N, I’m going to cum. Are you close?” He asked, reaching down to push at your clit gently.

“Yes! Right there, pleasepleaseplease! Jimin,” you cried. Your walls tightened beyond belief, causing Jimin to freeze in his thrusting. He watched your face as you fell apart for him, causing him to reach his end as well. A cry of your name on his lips as ropes of hot cum painted your walls milky white. Jimin shuddered in overstimulation as you continued to clench yourself around his spent cock.

The pair of you lay there, clutching each other in the afterglow as you tried to catch your breath. Jimin decided to move first, pulling his still twitching length from your abused center. You watched as he stood on wobbly legs and came back with a towel to clean you up with. A soft smile took over your features as you spread your legs easily for him.

After he was satisfied, you opened your arms for him. Jimin moved forward without hesitation, wrapping your exhausted body with his own. He kissed the top of your head, then around your jaw and finally a firm kiss was placed on your lips.

“I love you so much my darling,” he smiled, resting his head on the pillow.

“I love you too, we both do.”

—

You’d never thought that giving birth would be a pleasant experience.

But never in your entire life did you imagine it would hurt this much.

The contractions had started early in the morning. Making you wake Jimin with a frantic push.

“My love what is it?” He asked, sitting up in the bed with a bewildered look on his face.

“Get Father Jin right now,” you demanded, leaning forward to hold your severely swollen stomach. Jimin was out of bed and quickly called the guards to get the Priest from his room as fast as possible.

They yelled back their confirmation before they hurried off. You felt the distinct cramping from your groin and moaned low in pain. Jimin came back over to you, looking at you with worry etched onto his features.

“Do you want anything? Anyone? I’ll call for whatever you need,” he said, taking your shaking hands in his.

“Good morning,” you whispered, giving him a weak smile.

“Good morning,” he smiled back, kissing your knuckles gently.

Soon you were in a different room entirely, getting settled into the blankets and all the people close to you had been summoned.

Jungkook and Taehyung had gotten there first, both excited and ready for the proceedings.

“Lady Y/N! It’s really happening? Oh my gosh! I’m so excited for you,” Jungkook said, coming over to place a gentle kiss on your hand out of respect.

“Thank you Jungkook, how is training the new recruits going?” You asked, trying to distract yourself from the pain.

“Oh that’s all boring! We don’t want to hear about that!” Taehyung said, coming next to you and also kissing your hand.

“Maybe she does my Lord,” Jungkook sneered. You knew the two of them had always had a friendly competition going on. But, right now you shushed them and told them to go sit down.

Hoseok and Namjoon were next, coming in shortly after Taehyung and Jungkook.

“My lady,” Namjoon said, taking to his knee in front of you.

“There’s no need for that right now, Namjoon. How are you? We haven’t had tea in a while, and I fear if this babe comes now we might not for a long while yet,” you teased and Namjoon just smiled as he stood up.

“We can sneak some tea in soon my Lady, leave the child with the King to see how he fares,” he smirked. Jimin was pouting. You knew it without even looking at him.

“I might have to do that,” you smiled. Hoseok came over quickly after, kissing your hand a few times before looking at you with excitement.

“Is there anything you want? Anything you need? I know you’re not supposed to eat anything right now but maybe some water?” He asked.

“It’s so sweet of you to offer, but right now I’m just tired and a little cranky,” you laughed, trying to keep yourself in good spirits.

Hoseok seemed to understand, giving your hand a soft squeeze before walking over to talk with Namjoon and Jungkook.

“Where’s Yoongi? And Father Jin?” You asked, looking around.

“We’re here!” Father Jin said, a bright smile on his face as he escorted a grumpy looking Yoongi through the doorway.

“Yeah, here,” Yoongi said, yawning and scowling at the older man.

“I’m sorry to wake you,” you whispered, reaching out for the stoic man. His resolve quickly melted as he came by and pressed a gentle kiss to the back of your hand.

“I’m sure you’d rather be sleeping now too, but I’m fine. Are you alright?” He asked, looking at you with an intensity you always forgot he possessed.

“Yes, just some contractions right now. My water hasn’t broken yet,” you said. Yoongi nodded and looked at Jimin with a soft smile.

“How are you faring, feeling okay?” He asked, looking at the father to be with kind eyes.

“Nervous, but happy,” he confirmed, taking your hand in his.

“Wonderful,” he yawned, going to sit down and hopefully doze off while you were still in the early stages.

Father Jin gathered everyone up and they all listened attentively to whatever he had to say. The day progressed and your water hadn’t broken yet, but the men all stayed, asking if there was anything you needed, holding your hand if you felt a particularly rough contraction.

But most importantly, Jimin was right by your side the whole time.

When your water did finally break, it was like hell also had broken loose.

It was later, probably afternoon when you felt it happen.

Father Jin was suddenly on his feet demanding towels and hot water for you, as well as some herbs that would help numb the pain as much as they could. Jimin looked panic stricken when you clutched onto his hand.

“It’s okay,” he said softly, brushing your hair away from your face.

“I’m scared,” you whispered, another wave of pain crashing through you without remorse.

“I’m scared too,” he confessed. “But I know you can do it. You’re already the perfect wife, now you’re going to be the perfect mother... Our child is almost here,” he said, kissing your cheek.

“Jungkook, Lord Taehyung each of you grab a leg and hold them please,” Father Jin said as he sat in front of you. Both men looked shocked at the idea, but you and Jimin both nodded, giving them permission.

Jungkook gently placed his hands on your calf and pushed your leg back holding it in position for you. Taehyung did the same, each of them keeping their eyes respectful.

“Why do we have to hold her legs?” Taehyung asked, looking at Jungkook.

“Gives her more leverage and relieves some of the pressure on her back,” Jungkook answered.

“The only problem is it can close off the birthing canal at an awkward angle, but for now this is the best position to give her a break,” Father Jin said.

When you started pushing, you felt your lower back ache with how much strain you were under. Jimin could only watch as you cried out in pain when Father Jin urged you to keep going.

Everyone in the room was tense with worry.

Your health had always been fragile, even after coming back from the dead you still fell sick easily and had trouble with your lungs. But Father Jin was focused on the baby, while Jimin was focused on you.

“I never expected it to hurt this much,” Namjoon whispered, watching on in horror as his Queen and dear friend struggled to keep conscious through the pain.

“I think I’m going to be sick,” you wailed. Hoseok was quick to grab a bucket that was formerly filled with water and held it as you threw up. Jimin smoothed his hands down your back, trying to keep himself from crying. Jungkook and Taehyung had given you a break with your legs so you could turn as you emptied your stomach.

“Y/N,” Jimin murmured, kissing your shoulder gently.

“Sit back straight, Y/N, you need to keep pushing,” Father Jin said. You were delirious with pain and exhaustion. You needed something to keep you grounded. The one thing you knew would always keep you grounded.

“My love, talk to me, just keep talking to me,” you pleaded, voice hoarse with how much you’d been crying.

“Y/N, it’s alright,” Jimin soothed, kissing your sweaty forehead with worry. “They’re almost here, we’re so close to meeting our baby. We’re so close to being a family.”

“Alright your Majesty another big push on the count of three, one... two... three!” Father Jin said, you pushed hard and felt nothing but sheer agony as the child started crowning.

“I can see the head!” Hoseok said, standing behind Father Jin, now hanging onto Yoongi tightly.

“Oh my God,” you cried, head falling back on the pillows.

“Keep pushing Y/N!” Father Jin said, preparing a cloth.

“I can’t, I really can’t, I’ll die if I keep going please,” you stammered. Taehyung and Jungkook shared an anxious look. Namjoon looked at you with fear written all over his features.

“My love, look at me,” Jimin said softly, bringing your eyes to his.

“It hurts, I can’t... Please don’t make me, ah!” You cried out as you felt another contraction.

“Y/N you need to push! Hard as you can,” Father Jin said, looking at your situation.

“Keep going Lady Y/N,” Jungkook said, looking up to your weary face. He’d seen several women give birth in his village, his mother being a midwife. But, to see someone he cared about going through this was difficult.

“You’ll be alright, you will. But if you stop pushing you’re putting you and the baby in danger,” Father Jin warned.

“How much longer?” You cried, giving another hard push.

“You’re so close,” Yoongi said, watching you with concern.

“You’re doing great!” Taehyung chirped, watching on in amazement.

He couldn’t wait to have his own family...

“The head is almost out, come on Y/N, keep going,” Father Jin said.

“Jimin,” you whimpered, clutching his hand as you gave the hardest push yet.

“I love you so much, keep going Y/N, I love you,” he whispered into your ear. You pushed again and finally, finally there was some relief.

“Oh my God!” Hoseok yelped, gripping onto Yoongi’s arm so tight he was certain that he was going to break his limb.

“You’re going to rip my arm off! Father Jin is a little busy right now!” Yoongi growled.

“Can you give me one more push? Just one more,” Jimin asked, kissing your shoulder. Looking at him with tears in your eyes you nodded, giving another strong push before soft cries filled the room.

“It’s a boy!”

“A prince!”

“Congratulations your majesties!”

You slumped back onto the bed, breathing heavily when a small bundle was placed on your chest. Looking down you saw your son, wiped off haphazardly and clutching your nightdress tightly.

“Oh Y/N,” Jimin whispered, placing a gentle kiss on your lips.

“He’s so handsome!” Hoseok cooed, looking on at you and Jimin both. Father Jin had you push a few more times to deliver the afterbirth, but nothing was as intense as giving birth to your son.

“Ji...min...” you breathed, eyes growing heavy.

“Can she rest Father?” Taehyung asked, looking at the little prince attached to his mother with tear filled eyes.

“Not yet, Y/N, stay awake,” Father Jin warned.

“Why...?” You asked, slowly taking in deep breaths.

“I need to check you and the baby over, and he needs to feed,” Father Jin said softly, cleaning you up still. Your eyes were still heavy, but you heard your baby crying softly on your chest.

Instinctively you shushed him, bringing him to your chest so he could latch on. After a little struggle, he was feeding eagerly. You brushed his hair gently, watching with sleepy eyes as he ate his fill.

Father Jin came over, congratulating you on a wonderful delivery. He did tell you everything you needed to do for the coming days, encouraging you to stay in bed and keep the baby close to form a relationship. He also told Jimin to take the baby and have time as well.

“It’s important that you two stay together for this coming week, I’ll make sure that the advisors and everyone just leaves you alone unless it is absolutely life or death,” Father Jin said, looking at your babe with a tenderness that made your heart swell.

“What’s the baby’s name? Hmm? What do we call our new prince?” Namjoon asked, raising a brow.

“Jihoon?” You asked, looking at Jimin for confirmation.

“It’s perfect,” Jimin agreed, giving you a kiss on the forehead.

“Prince Jihoon, I’ll let the advisors and everyone know,” Taehyung said, running into the hall.

“Lord Taehyung! Just hang on a second!” Namjoon yelled, chasing after the excited noble.

“We’d better go and make sure they don’t get into any trouble,” Yoongi said to Jungkook, patting his shoulder before guiding the younger male out the door.

“As much as I’d love to spend time with my Godchild, I have to make sure that my brother and friends don’t cause a scene,” Hoseok said. He came up and gave your hand a gentle kiss. “Congratulations Lady Y/N, I’m truly happy for you.”

With that he left the room, followed shortly by Father Jin.

You and Jimin were alone with your baby, the soft sound of his gurgles filling the room. Jimin looked down at you, eyes watery as he kissed your child’s head. You brushed the tears away from his face, even though exhaustion was flooding your aching body, you wanted to make sure he was okay too. He had also been through a lot today.

“I love you,” you said, watching as more tears fell from his eyes.

“I love you too, both of you... So much,” he whimpered. “That was the most beautiful and heartbreaking thing I’ve ever had to experience.”

“Heartbreaking?” You wondered out loud.

“To see you in so much pain, and there was nothing I could do about it,” he said, looking at your child, hands shaking.

“It’s alright, I’m okay now,” you said, holding his hand in your clammy one. Jimin pressed a delicate kiss to your wrist, looking up at you with so much love and adoration.

“I’m sorry you hurt so much, if I could take your pain I would,” he said, brushing your hair back.

“Doesn’t hurt anymore,” you mumbled, eyes closing slowly. “Just tired now...”

“Sleep my love, we’ll be here when you wake up.”

And they were.

And they always would be.

Forever.

91 notes · View notes

otonymous · 4 years

Text

A Bolt From The Blue (MLQC Shaw - NSFW) - Part II: Formal Introductions

Description: A stranger finds himself in a strange place Warnings: NSFW/18+: Explicit/graphic language & mature themes — reader discretion is advised. Potential trigger warnings: mild depictions of injuries, police, profanity Word Count: 1328 words (~7 mins of tension and the beginnings of love) Author’s Notes: First of all, I just wanted to give everyone who read, liked, reblogged, and/or commented on Chapter 1 of this fic a massive THANK YOU! It has been an absolute joy to read through your reactions to the story so far, and I hope you will continue to join me on this wild (and eventually, sexy) ride! 😂 That being said, here’s Chapter 2! Hope you all enjoy the read 💖

Tagging: the lovely @op-peccatori

Jump to Chapter(s): One | Three | Four

⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️

“Ahh—!”

A large hand clamps over your mouth to muffle the scream of shock when you wake to a pair of amber eyes staring intently into yours. Then you remember that you had given up your bed to the man you now knew went by the name of Shaw.

At least that was what was on the ID card you found in his wallet.

“Finally awake, Sleeping Beauty? Care to tell me where I am?”

Once assured you had sufficiently calmed, Shaw lowers his hand, turning his attention to your tiny apartment. You straighten up from where you had fallen asleep, kneeling on the floor beside the bed with your head slumped on the pillow just next to his face. Cheeks burning, you bite your lip to distract from the way your skin still tingled in the places he had touched.

“You’re at my place. But don’t worry, I live alone.”

“I figured that much,” he says, trying to prop himself up on his elbows before his face contorts in pain. You quickly rearrange the cushions and pillows behind him for support. Shaw reaches towards his bare abdomen, hand trembling slightly as his fingers trace over the bandaged stitches holding it together. “How did you…?”

“My next door neighbour did it. He was a doctor back in his home country and owed me a favour. I figured it would be a bad idea to take you to a hospital given…given everything that’s going on. You can trust him, he’ll be discreet.”

Shaw heaves a sigh; even that seems to hurt him. “How long have I been out?”

“Almost two days.”

“Shit.” His brows pinch together. “Do you have my phone?”

Nodding, you make your way to the kitchen counter where it sat along with the things that fell from his pockets when you undressed him as per your neighbour’s instructions: his wallet, a pack of cinnamon gum, a key and a guitar pick.

The phone lights up at your touch when you hand it over. You pretend like you don’t notice the photo of the two young boys on the lock screen — one taller than the other, both wearing matching smiles and big, amber eyes.

You watch from the side, waiting with bated breath as Shaw scrolls through the messages with an impatient hand, the expression on his face growing darker with each swipe until he’s throwing off the sheets, pale lips trembling in pain as he tries to maneuver off the bed. “I have to go.”

“But, wait…you’re not fully healed yet! The doctor said it would likely be another day or two before you should start moving about—”

“I ain’t got that time.” Feet finally on the ground, Shaw looks down, seeming to realize for the first time that he’s completely naked save for his boxers. “Could you, um…pass my clothes?”

His cheeks grow pink. You clear your throat.

Knock, knock.

Freezing in the midst of gathering his belongings, both your gazes shoot to the door when a muffled voice on the other side calls, “Loveland City Police! Anyone home?”

Tossing Shaw the bundle in your arms, you push him back into bed, holding a finger to your lips for silence before you throw the covers over him. Running sweaty palms over disheveled hair, you breathe deep, opening the door just enough for the chain to pull taut.

“Good morning, Miss. I’m Detective Lai and this is Officer Wong from the Loveland City Police Department. We’re currently conducting an investigation in the area. Have you seen either of these men around here lately?”

Putting away his badge, Officer Wong holds up several large photographs, one a grainy picture from what appeared to be security footage, and a couple of mugshots. You keep your expression flat as you pretend to study the one of Shaw’s face.

“Doesn’t ring a bell, I’m sorry.”

Shaking your head for emphasis, you try to ignore the heat prickling beneath your collar when Detective Lai leans against the doorframe, gaze sharp as he sweeps the space behind you before finally relenting. “Sorry to have disturbed you, Miss. Please don’t hesitate to inform us if you notice anything out of the ordinary.”

Quickly shutting the door, you slide to the tiled floor of the entryway, shaking so hard your teeth chatter. Suddenly, a hand thrusts into your field of vision, making you jump: Shaw is standing before you, one arm outstretched to help you up as the other hovers over his bandaged abdomen.

“You should be resting.” The words leave your lips in a whisper.

He doesn’t budge. “Don’t worry about me, I’m stronger than I look.”

And when you finally place your hand in his, the smile that brightens that handsome face brings one to your own.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“You win. Looks like I’m not going anywhere anytime soon with the cops crawling all over the place.”

Shaw’s voice drifts to the kitchen from where he lay on your bed. Avoiding a cloud of steam when you lift the lid from a pot on the stove, the comforting smell of ginger and scallions wafts to tickle your nose as you portion out a single serving of congee, bearing it over to him on a tray.

“Here. It’s not much, but it’s easy on the stomach. Careful, it’s hot—!”

The congee splatters onto your sheets when Shaw drops the ceramic spoon, hissing as he sticks out a burnt tongue like an accident-prone child. Biting back a chuckle at the discord between the man before you now and the one who had valiantly saved you during the robbery, you quickly reach for the glass of water on your bedside table, watching him gulp it down for dear life.

“I know it’s no Coke and Pepsi, but I hope it’ll do anyways.”

He laughs, and the sound tightens around your heart before he almost chokes on his water, coughing violently into the crook of his elbow and breathing deep to ride out the wave of pain radiating from his torso.

“Wow. So she can tell jokes too in addition to saving lives. Impressive, just like the lies you told the cops. I have to say though, I’m surprised you noticed my drink of choice. All those nights I came in, you barely even looked at me. I was starting to wonder whether or not I was invisible.”

A smirk curls upon his lips; you wondered how they would taste. Then, after a beat of silence, he says, “Thank you. For everything. I owe you my life.”

His amber eyes hold yours, completely devoid of sarcasm. Counting to three before the intensity forces your gaze down to the fraying edges of your house slippers, the fierce beating of your heart makes you feel faint.

“I’m just repaying a favour. I haven’t thanked you yet for saving me that day you took out the robber with your skateboard.”

“Was nothin’. Just happened to be in the right place at the right time.” He shrugs, running a hand through his hair before extending it to you for the second time that day. “Name’s Shaw, by the way.”

You stop breathing when your hands touch, hope your cheeks won’t betray you with their traitorous red when those long fingers tightened to hear you say yours in return.

“I know. I’ve seen it on the tag on your uniform many times now.” He repeats your name, soft and with intent, as if the tip of his tongue held something of infinite importance. “It’s nice…suits you. I like it.”

Raising a spoonful of congee, Shaw puckers his lips, blowing gently to cool it off first this time around.

“I like your congee too.”

⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️

Thanks so much for reading! Hope you all enjoyed it and please stay tuned for part 3 because there is only one bed! 😱😆

Jump to Chapter(s): One | Three | Four

Check out more of my work here! 📚 (Please do not repost/copy/alter my work. Reblogs, on the other hand, are a-ok and much appreciated! 👍🏼💖)

#mlqc #mr love queen's choice #love and producer #mr love dream date #evol x love #mlqc shaw #mlqc ling xiao #mlqc smut #mlqc shaw smut #mlqc fic #follower milestone #op-peccatori #my writing #multi-chapter fic

190 notes · View notes

nakunakunomi · 4 years

Note

Hi hazel! I hope you're doing well, may i request a fem s/o of Shanks who feels invisible and is starting to get bitter because of it and Shanks comforts her? Scenario if you would. Please and thank you!

Hi Sky! :D As discussed in PM, the reader is now genderneutral <3 Im sorry it took so long but I hope you enjoy!

Not weak, just loved - Shanks x Reader

2nd person. Genderneutral reader. 1.5k words. Fluffy comfort fic.

All the men on the Red Force were exceptionally talented. Years of experience, sailing all the seas, winning and losing battles, mostly winning though.... everything had contributed to the strength and confidence they now had. And it was necessary, after all, the crew of a Yonko cannot possibly be weak, especially not with such a small crew compared to the others.

And yet. You were not as strong as the men on the ship. You were the only one who had only been there for a little while, not as a pirate initially, but as their captain’s partner of a few years. You were not weak, Shanks wouldn’t have let you sail with him if you were for your own safety. You could hold your own against most of the average pirates and other annoyances you ran into, which weren’t that many anymore, at this point most people knew who you were and knew better than to just attack part of a yonko’s crew without a solid plan, but compared to the others? You were nothing. At least that was what it felt like.

Whenever the crew was training, you felt left out. There was nothing you could do really, unless they went really easy on you, but you could tell that they'd want to go all out sometimes, preferring to spar with crewmates they knew they wouldn't hurt in case something went wrong. You were "too frail" for that. It was often the main subject of their jokes, and you always laughed along with them, trying to hide just how much that actually hurt.

Whenever they were sitting around a fire on an island, telling each other stories and reminiscing about islands visited years ago, you couldn't step in or add to the stories, your voice noticeably more quiet and soft amongst their deep and raucous voices. On top of that, you had only joined the crew a few years ago, and most of these stories were just that for you, stories. For you, they were not memories, but just stories that got wilder every time you heard them.

It just all piled on. Negative after negative after negative. There were so many occasions where you felt weak, useless, a burden. And before you know those words were just on repeat in the back of your mind. You weren’t expected to help around too much on the ship, but you tried wherever you could, just so you could pass the time whenever Shanks was busy doing all his captain things, and you were usually sent away with some laughter and a comment that help was not needed. The crew did not mean this in any malicious way, just wanted to make sure you could relax and not overwork lest they had to hear the captain complain about them shoving work onto his love and tiring them out before he could do so, but to you, it just felt like them sneering at you for not being useful and you just felt yourself become more and more bitter every single time it happened.

Today you were finally docking on a new island after a few long weeks at sea. You were supposed to be excited about land underneath your feet, and new fresh food, but you could hardly find any enthusiasm to bring up. It would be the same as always. Supply shopping, maybe a little date with Shanks, which would be the highlight of your day, and then they would go to a bar, drink the place dry, get some more booze, and party on the beach until the sun came up again. Then the next day rinse and repeat until the ship was all stocked up and the log pose reset, and you and the crew would move onto the next island. You were not feeling up to it at all. You just knew that you would not be allowed to help load things onto the ship cause they were too heavy. You knew more stories would come that would never include you. And you were just not feeling up to that at all.

So when you heard the familiar sounds of everyone running around, getting the ship ready to dock, you stayed in the bedroom you shared with Shanks instead of going out and watching the land get closer as you usually would do. Sitting on the bed, staring into the nothingness, your angry thoughts were interrupted by a soft knock on the door. It indicated that there was someone that had noticed your absence, but you ignored it, pretty sure that no one would really miss you anyway.

The door opened, and in walked your red-haired boyfriend. You were surprised that he had even knocked on his own door, but you appreciated the gesture, certainly done to make you feel comfortable and like your privacy was respected. You couldn’t bear looking at him when he asked the question you knew was inevitably going to come up.

“Is there something wrong?”

You shrugged. The answer was yes, but you couldn’t exactly say something about it. You didn’t want to cause tension the moment you were arriving on an island. He walked over slowly, sitting next to you and placing his hand on your thigh.

“What’s up then?”

You bit your lip. “I don’t want to talk about it”. He leaned forward a bit, trying to make eye contact, but you turned your face away. “Please Shanks, just go with the crew, leave me here for a bit.”

He frowned. You didn’t sound extremely upset or sad. More empty and angry, and he did not want to leave you behind in such a state.

“You don’t want to come with us? This seems like a fun village, and I heard the local liquors are unlike anything we’ve tasted before.” When his soft smile and enthusiasm didn’t even manage to make you turn your head, he got really worried. Did he do something wrong?

“No, I don’t want to come with you. I don’t want to sit around the campfire and get confronted with how helpless and unnecessary I am around here. How I am never part of the grand story because I am weak,” you took a sharp breath in, Shanks mouth falling open in a surprised o-shape, and now that you had finally started pouring out your feelings, you felt yourself unable to stop.

“You know? Maybe I should get off on this island and just stay here cause apparently I am nothing but a dead weight on this ship. I am grateful for the adventures I had but apparently I was never significant enough to even mention in the wild drunken sto-”

“Y/n stop.”

His voice was stern, his expression serious. You finally looked at him and saw the usual mischievous twinkle in his eyes was nowhere to be seen either. It made you feel uneasy in some way.

“You’re not weak. You’re not dead weight. You’re not useless. Don’t…” he frowned, grasping one of your hands in his, “don’t say such things about yourself. If you were weak, you’d never be allowed on this ship. If you weren’t loved, no one here would put up with you and look out for you. If you were such a nuisance… I’d never had noticed you. And yet here we are. You are loved,” he kissed your forehead, “you are wanted,” he kissed your left cheek, “you are needed, not a nuisance,” he kissed your right cheek, “and I love you with all I have,” he kissed you on the lips.

You felt tears prick at the corner of your eyes, it was becoming increasingly hard to keep your angry expression, and he didn’t stop talking. He started summing up moments where you would throw a weapon to one of the crewmates after they’d lost theirs, how you patched people up in the middle of a chaotic battlefield, how your tactics had helped the crew greatly, and countless of stories of how you had made him happy, smile, laugh, filled his days with joy. Before he was done talking, there were some tears silently streaming down your face, he rubbed them away, not even mentioning your teary eyes, still keeping that same, serious, focussed expression on. Although a new emotion had set in the twinkle of his eyes: love.

“Are you coming with~? Maybe tonight we should dedicate all stories to you?”

Your eyes widened and you started to stutter. “N-no...No, I am fine without all that extra drunken attention.”

“As long as you’ll accept my drunken attention I won’t bother you”

You smacked his arm painfully, noticing how your whole body seemed more relaxed now that you were no longer carrying most of those dark thoughts with you. Of course, there would undoubtedly be more moments where you felt unfit or inadequate but as you grabbed Shanks’ hand and followed him out on deck, you realized that there was always the one to make you feel better. You’d hold onto that thought. It’d work way better for your mood too.

#Shanks x reader #shanks/reader #shanks x you #shanks/you #one piece fanfiction #one piece #one piece reader insert #sky-draws #request #reader insert

162 notes · View notes

what-breaks-my-heart · 3 years

Text

Here are some brief thoughts on kdrama that started airing in 2020 that I've watched. I said brief, but those who have been following me would appreciate that this is indeed, brief.

The list is in alphabetical order.

1. 365: Repeat the Year (MBC)

Disclosure: I am a HUGE Lee Joon Hyuk stan. He is second only to Hyun Bin on my list. The fact that this drama is on the top of this list is a happy coincidence 🥰🥰

I was soooooooo excited when I knew Lee Joon Hyuk was to star in a new drama. MBC made the announcement of the drama late last year, and I was literally walking to the office when I saw the announcement on ig.

The premise of the drama was pretty straightforward. 10 people were given the chance to travel back in time exactly one year prior. Mysterious things kept happening to the people who took the trip, so our Detective Ji “Fluffy-Hair” Hyung Joo and webtoon writer Shin “Self-Hater” Ga Hyun joined hands to figure out what exactly happened.

Once they finally figured out what caused the mysterious cases, they faced a great dilemma on what to do, with our Fluffy Hair detective running as a fugitive.

The ending was really sad, and I really wished it ended differently, but the main character of the story was our Fluffy Hair detective, and him having to live on and reset the whole thing from the new past was a nice touch to the ending.

This drama was full of surprises, twist and turn, and it is certainly a drama I would consider rewatching in the future.

2. Do You Like Brahms? (SBS)

Many people criticised the second half of this drama. Apparently the year 2020 is the year when kdramaland keeps being a disappointment, and many people are quick to include this drama in the list of disappointing drama, despite having a good beginning.

I beg to differ though. To me this drama feels more of a healing drama, wherein the characters are forced to deal with their issues. And anyone who has had to go through any form of therapy knows how hard healing process is.

TL;DR: The main leads are both people who have been mentally abused by the people around them, except for Cha Young In, because she was the only reason I did not throw my remote control at my 50-inch TV.

Park Joon Young is your classic example of a ‘gifted kid’ struggle. He was seen as a young, talented pianist who had a bright future ahead of him. But people started to treat him more like a trophy than a human being, so he decided to take a sabbatical, much to the criticism of people in the music industry. Park Joon Young realised that his passion in playing the piano has faded away, no thanks to his abusive piano professor who belittled him again and again, and practically brainwashed him into being a people pleaser. You could see how Park Joon Young was not himself in the beginning of the drama once you finish the drama.

Chae Song Ah took interest in violin at a later age (much later than professional musicians) and decided to pursue her dream by enrolling into a music programme. Her classmates were all younger than her, and it didn’t help that they all learnt music since much younger. I love how Song Ah did not give up on her dream easily and gave it her all, before she finally decided to let go of her dream to become a musician. The metaphor of her love for violin and Joon Young hurting her again and again and she just endured it though.. I cried like a mess well I am a mess but that’s a separate issue

Special shout out to Cha Young In who was there for both of them.

3. Flower of Evil (tvN)

If thriller is your thing, consider this drama. If you are one of those people who like to see your characters being tortured (physically and mentally), this drama is a MUST WATCH. And if you enjoy watching Lee Joon Ki playing a character who is put at a great distress because he is trying to run from his past, go watch this drama.

More importantly, if you enjoy a drama where your ML is sexy, attends to house chores and takes care of his bright young daughter while his wife goes crazy for solving violent crimes, a devoted husband who is attentive and a tender person but also a freak in the sheets, you are wasting every single of your breath not watching this drama.

I mean look at this man teasing his wife about his stamina.

Flower of Evil did not feel draggy at all. Everything that happened within the first 6 episodes could have been an entire drama if this was written by someone else. Seriously, this drama kept me at the edge of my couch!

The dynamic of HS and JW screams POWER COUPLE but at the same time it broke my heart how they were pushed into corners too many times by the people around them I do hope they had some sexy times while they were in the corners though

The focus on their wedding rings throughout the drama symbolised their unbreakable bond. The wedding rings were literally the very last thing that kept them together when JW stumbled upon evidences that pointed against HS.

JW, whose compass was only trusting what she saw, and not what she heard, tried to break the stigma of women being at a disadvantage in the police force. Heck, she was better than her entire team when it came to solving cases, her being the only woman in the team. Who said women cannot make good cops?

The plot twist though.. And the climax.. To this day, I still listen to this soundtrack from the drama and cry just thinking of the climax.

4. Into the Ring (also known as Memorials) (KBS2)

I didn’t even plan on watching this drama. I was channel surfing and saw Park Sung Hoon looking all depressed in the first episode and ran into Koo Se Ra. Girl was UNHINGED and determined to fight for her way.

Her motivation was initially on getting a stable pay check from being a district representative (it was only 60 million won which is like USD55k so it’s not that much) but she eventually became the district representative who fought for the benefit of the people and did not care for the political warfare that took place.

Came along Seo Gong Myung, a government officer in the local government office who was demoted from planning unit of the accounting department or something to be a secretariat to the district assembly. Seo Gong Myung sticks to his principle no matter what, which surprise surprise, is HATED by everyone in the district government.

Turns out our main leads were friends when they were kids so Se Ra kept teasing him and dragging him into her scheme of fighting for the people, which Gong Myung agreed to, not so much because he was a community-loving person, but because he was afraid Se Ra would get into trouble since she was as straight as a ruler.

Long story short, our leads fell for each other, and their relationship was HILAIROUS to watch. I think I speak for everyone who watched the drama that we had no reason to believe Se Ra did not peg Gong Myung for fun 😝😝

They were so cute together awwww

5. Kairos (MBC)

This is another drama that I stumbled into. Only this time, I saw Nam Gyu Ri and I remember seeing her ig post on a new drama so I decided to give it a go. She wrecked my heart in 49 Days so I decided to check this out for funsies. Hooo boy was I in for a major surprise.

The first two episodes got me hooketh!! I still cannot believe how the drama managed to keep me on my edge especially during the last 5 minutes of every episode. The pacing is even faster than Flower of Evil, and since this drama went back and forth between past and future, it keeps me guessing whether their efforts would bear fruit.

Will Kim “Sexy Brain” Seo Jin and Han “I-Know-No-Fear” Ae Ri succeed in fighting the evil, who at this point in time remains unknown? I know Chairman Yoo Seo Il is currently being hinted as the culprit behind everything but I know better that he is just a puppet who sold his soul to the real devil who most likely is in the higher ranks in politics. I mean he even hinted at his remorse for what happened with Taejung Town 19 years prior. My suspicion is he is trying to cover up whatever happened because otherwise his own family would be at risk, so his only option is to redeem himself by doing something about the Taejung Town. I could be wrong, but regardless of who turns out to be the real villain in the story, I can say I am so satisfied by how the story has progressed so far.

The time paradox still hurts my brain, but I am choosing that this drama does not assume that time is linear.

There is still not enough people watching this drama and I’m begging you all to go and catch up before it ends in two weeks time.

6. More than Friends (JTBC)

A little trivia: I reblog most of the posts from @kdramastuff even if I am not watching the show at the point of reblogging the posts. I had been following her posts on this drama for 3 weeks, and I finally decided to marathon all 6 episodes and joined the watching party.

More than Friends was another drama that many people called a disappointment but I had a different opinion on it. Yes, I used to be the nerd who had different opinions on many things in high school sue me

The drama is premised on Kyung Woo Yeon who is said to have a crush on her high school friend, Lee Soo for 10 years. Lee Soo is nowhere near to be the perfect boyfriend material. He is selfish, does not care about other people’s feelings, and was always a lone ranger.

BUUUUUUT, Lee Soo seemed to show signs of care and affection (even though it was not at all for a normal person’s standard) for Woo Yeon. Surprisingly, he seemed to only do it for Woo Yeon and gave attention to Woo Yeon alone, even though he could practically pick and choose anyone he liked from the swarm of girls who were chasing him.

One day, he told Woo Yeon that he had to leave to the US to study, which made our girl sad. She decided to confess at the airport, but he outright turned her down, saying he only wanted to be friends with her. Over the time, they kept running into each other by coincidence (note: her name Woo Yeon is a wordplay on coincidence in Korean). Later, it was revealed that he wanted her to always be by his side, but he has built a wall as tall as the Great Wall of China before the idea of love so he didn’t realise what his true feeling for Woo Yeon was all along.

Woo Yeon, who felt sick of the ten-year crush, decided to end the “curse” and kissed him by the beach, thinking of getting a closure on her crush.

Long story short, Lee Soo finally realised his feeling for her and decided to confess, but by that time, a young, handsome, rich CEO of a conglomerate has entered into the picture. Cue the game of cat and mouse between Lee Soo and Woo Yeon about resentment, regret and relationship.

This drama was promoted as a romcom, but it feels more like a slice-of-life drama with a mix of melo and romcom in there. Seriously, I cried buckets watching this drama, not something you’d expect from a romcom. The dialogues were well-written, with each episode revolving around a specific theme. This was such a good drama coming from a rookie writer.

This drama did not have that many viewers to begin with, and many of those few people dropped it along the way, including the one who was responsible in getting me hooked into this drama :p By the end of it, there were so few people talking about this drama in the tag (shout out to @dohyunsoo @have-yet-to-decide @starfire-s @thbn-anything for keeping me company to the very end of this drama)

This drama broke my record of screenshots per episode and total screenshots for any show. Until now, I have yet to finish posting them. I should probably upload more screenshots later tonight.

This drama had some AMAZING shots in the first half, with beautiful sceneries mostly in Seoul. It’s like what they said, “a daily occurrence for you, a trip for me”.

7. Oh My Baby (tvN)

I did not even remember watching this drama!! It was only after scrolling through my gallery that I saw I had shared some posts on my ig story about the drama.

It was in the middle of a lockdown when this drama aired and many of my memories from back then feel so distant to me.

The plot was not THAT good, but this drama is something you may consider if you like torturing yourself about the struggle of wanting to have a baby.

8. Once Again (KBS2)

Arguably one of the weekend family drama KBS2 in a while that kept me waiting for new episodes in front of my TV. Some people are turned off by weekend family drama because they tend to have slow pacing which makes viewers feel like they are being dragged to one of those boring corporate events that you would rather miss and wish you could be literally anywhere else.

Because this drama had more pairing than the typical weekend family drama, the story did take some time before it was on full momentum. It did feel like the drama could have been better with even one less sibling to worry about, but it was a fun watch in the middle of lockdown.

Will I watch it again? I’d rather rewatch House of Bluebird (starring Lee Joon Hyuk and Lee Sang Yeob as friends to enemies to friends again) because that drama spoke to me in a way that was more relatable. No hate to Once Again though. I just prefer House of Bluebird better.

Note: Justice for Song Ga Hee and her lovely son, Kim Ji Hoon. He had to grow up so much because of what happened to his mother, that it broke Ga Hee’s heart. And mine of course

9. Secret Forest 2 (tvN)

I watched Secret Forest once it has finished and I fell in love with the drama! Imagine my excitement when they announced Secret Forest 2 with my three main characters reprising their roles. No hate to Yoon Se Ah, I love her, but her screen time in Secret Forest was not enough to make me excited about her return. But I was pleased with her role in Secret Forest 2 and I hope if there is a third season, her character gets the redemption arc that she yearns for.

Secret Forest 2 was not as intense as the brilliant original, but I understood that it had to do with the overall theme of the season, and the theme required the script to be as such. Some people may argue me on this, but I still think what they pulled off was brilliant.

Too bad there was a severe lack of Lee Joon Hyuk on my screen though.

10. Tale of the Nine-Tailed (tvN)

Well. This drama went far beyond my expectation. The OTP was to die for. No such thing as miscommunication trope. This drama did not waste time on unnecessary drama. The pacing was incredibly fast, even faster than Kairos. Although to be fair, Kairos had to play with two different timelines and required time to establish the setting.

I’m sad about what happened to Lee Rang, but he did what he did, and he would never be able to erase that much pain from his memory even if the deities decided to be lenient on him because of his roles in killing off Imoogi. A fresh start as a human seemed like a fair reset to his life, and I hope he lives well, surrounded by people who love him.

I was never a fan of Jo Bo Ah (no hate on her, I was just indifferent) but this drama opened my eyes to what an incredible actress she is. I wish her a successful career ahead.

#365 repeat the year #365: repeat the year #do you like brahms #do you like brahms?#flower of evil #into the ring #kbs memorials #mbc kairos #more than friends #oh my baby #kbs once again #secret forest 2 #tale of the nine tailed #kdrama #kdrama review #kdrama opinion #personal #annual drama recap

66 notes · View notes

itisannak · 4 years

Text

Play Pretend (Calum Hood Fluff)

Summary: Calum and (Y/N) get along like cats and dogs. Based on Love Prompts #48: "Will you shut up for a moment and let me kiss you?" & #59: "What? Can't I just look at you?" (Request) (Words: 2.1k)

"I made fresh coffee for anyone who might want some." Calum announces as he walks into the conference room. "(Y/N) brought our Starbucks order already." Ashton comments, raising his paper cup in the air. "I brought yours too. Almond milk with a little brown sugar, right?" I ask him, smiling softly at the man who is looking at me with a furrow. "I'll have the one I made myself." He spits out, dragging his chair out and sitting on it while he brings his mug to his lips. "Calum..." Ashton mumbles under his breath. "What? How do I know she didn't poison my coffee? How do you know she didn't poison yours?" He asks, making me chuckle at his paranoia. "Oh, we are going back to your asshole days again?" I blurt out, rolling my eyes as I fix my posture. "Not again with this bullshit." Ashton groans; it is tiring for me even, always having a quarrel with the dude who can't accept the fact I will be opening for him. "What? I am just saying, I don't know that woman. None of us does." He shrugs his shoulders at everyone. My eyes go wide and I am taken aback, really not knowing how to react to him right now. "You really are a douche." I state, blinking unconsciously. He stares at me for a moment, the whole room going silent just as the executives walk in the room. I really don't know why this dude is so fucking aggrieved. He has been like that since he met me, which is so confusing because all his friends and acquaintances have been taking my ears off about what a great and lovely guy he is.

"Hey, (Y/N)... Can you wait a second?" Luke calls after me, making me stop in my tracks. "Luke, I really need to put food in my stomach, or else I am going to eat all of you alive when we walk back into the conference room." I state and he chuckles. "May I join you?" He asks, pointing at the elevator door. "Sure." I reply, smiling at him softly. "So..." He begins as we walk towards the elevator. "So..." I repeat and stare at him. "About Calum..." He goes on, scratching the back of his head. "I really don't want to hear whatever you have to say about him." I let out and he sighs. "I know. But he really isn't like that... Usually at least. He is very sweet and caring, a total love bear if I am honest. I don't know what is going on with him." He does the whole song and dance I've heard a million times this far. "Well, it is a little hard for me to see that. He is a total jackass to me, in case you haven't noticed." I sass, crossing my arms in front of my chest. "A little hard not to notice. But I don't know why he is like that with you. It is like you bring the worst in him." He explains but cringes as soon as the words leave his mouth. "Gee, thanks for that, Hemmings." I reply, pressing the elevator button. "That's not how I meant it. I am sorry." "I know what you meant. But this is a bunch of bullshit. I tried to be nice to him, I tried to bite my tongue, but he is insufferable, and I never really did anything to him. So, I really don't want to hear what a great dude your friend is, because he is really not, at least not to me. I deserve better from him." I shrug my shoulders, earning a nod from him. "I know you do. And he is going to get an earful about him being so mean, I promise." He assures me, making me sigh. "Look, I just want a calm tour. There is enough drama in my life, I don't need that in my work-life as well." I state. "We are all going to talk to him and I promise he is going to apologize." He holds his pinky up, making me chuckle. "It's going to be quite an experience touring with all of you..." I chuckle, shaking my head at him.

(Calum's POV) "Are you going to continue being an asshole to (Y/N), you dipshit?" Michael scolds, taking a seat across from me as I munch on my cookie. "I am not an asshole." I protest, but he scoffs sarcastically. "Dude, you accused her of poisoning our coffees. It's just coffee, say thank you, and drink it. She is really kind and you are a huge dick to her." He exasperates, but I just hum. "You know I am right. We don't know what she wants from us." I reply but earn the most disappointed look from him. "We want something from her. She has a solid fanbase and a profile that fits ours. She is a great choice for the opening act. Stop treating her like shit." He points out, making me sigh. "I am really not... Fuck, I don't know what is going on. She is just... Frustrating." I let out, shrugging my shoulders. I just stare at my cookie, avoiding Michael's questioning gaze. "Frustrating, huh?" He asks, his voice becoming teasing and cheerful. "Yeah. Like, she gets me out of my head without even trying." I groan and Michael continues smirking, which makes me look at him confused. "I think wittwe Cawum has a clush." He coos at me. "Stop babying me." "Stop acting like a little baby with a crush. It is gross and toxic. Man up and just, ask her out. Don't pull on her pigtails." He states confidently. "I am not pulling on her pigtails. And I don't have a crush on her. She is just... Obnoxious..." I stutter but Michael seems unconvinced. "And pretty. And awfully close to your type. So, suck it up like a big boy and admit that you like her, but your defenses are up so you are trying to make up excuses to convince yourself she is repulsing." He explains, tilting his head to the side. "Who died and made you the head of psychoanalysis?" I ask him and he just shrugs. "Freud." He sasses.

(Y/N's POV) The night is chilly but the crowd inside the house is not really fitting for me. There is noise, and loud, thumping music which makes my ears kinda hurt, so I excused myself from the company. Michael's birthday is a great opportunity to celebrate him and the upcoming end of the tour, but my blues are not fitting in with the party. So, the breeze that is hitting my face, along with the bit of the peace and quiet the balcony is offering me, makes me feel calmer, more at home, even though I am miles away. "Drinking alone?" I hear someone ask, making me jump as my blood freezes in my veins. I turn to locate the voice, finding Calum walking closer to me. "Is that bothering you as well?" I ask him, cocking an eyebrow at him. He chuckles, stopping next to me and leaning on the rail of the balcony. "Care if I join you?" He asks me, making me shrug. "Look, dude, I really don't need you offending me again. So, if you are here to jab at me to make yourself feel better, please, just go." I state, not even looking at him. I hear his breath hitch, but he stays motionless, still leaning against the rail.

There is silence among us, the only thing heard is the music from the party, muffled by the closed windows. I turn my head to look at Calum, to find out what he is doing, only to find him staring at me. He doesn't take his gaze from me when I catch him looking, which makes me look at him with a frown. "Alright, what are you looking at?" I ask him, coming off more like an attack than I intended to. "What? Can't I just look at you?" He asks, shrugging his shoulders. "No." I reply and he cocks an eyebrow. "No? Who is prohibiting me?" He asks, taking a swig from his cup. "Me. Every time you look at me, you end up saying hurtful things. And I really don't deserve it. Especially tonight." I explain. He just sighs in disappointment, looking at his hands for a moment before bringing his eyes to mine. "You look pretty tonight." He shrugs, still not looking away from me. "What happened, Hood? Did you run out of girls to hit on and stoop low to my level?" I ask with a chuckle, but he looks at me so softly, that the smile freezes on my face. "You were always the one above me. And no, you are the only girl I am hitting on tonight." He says confidently. "How much did you drink?" I ask but he hums sarcastically. "None. I have been drinking soda all night." He replies, showing me his cup. "You have been a bitch to me until now. Why hit on me tonight?" I ask him. "I figured out that being mean to you didn't make me like you any less." He shrugs, making me squint at him. "I know. It was an asshole move on my behalf, and totally toxic, so I am sorry. Look, I don't mean to upset you, I just wanted to let it off my chest and apologize. I hope we won't be awkward for the last few shows." He says softly, making me feel the honesty in his voice. "I'll see you around, I guess." He says, waving me off before he walks away from me. His shoulders are slouched and he walks away slowly, and for some reason, I stay speechless over his little confession.

After that night, Calum and I have been awfully awkward. Everyone is whispering around after our every and each of our interactions, which only makes things more awkward than they should be. And now, after the last show is done and while everyone is having a small party backstage for the end of the tour, my insides have been itching me. My heart wants me to move and talk to him, but my body and mind just tell me to bury this inside me. He looks so sad, sneaking peeks at me from across the room as he talks with someone from his crew. I bite my lip and take a deep breath, making sure my chest puffs up from it before I shake myself off and drag my feet towards him. "Can we talk?" I ask him once I am standing before him. He looks up to me from his seat, nodding his head before he gets up. "Sure." He replies, letting me guide us somewhere private.

We reach the empty dressing room, and I make sure I close the door behind us before turning to look at him. "Listen, (Y/N)... If you want to talk about what I said the other day, we don't have to address this. I just wanted to let it out, we don't have to say anything more now. I know you are probably feeling, I don't know, awkward about what I said, but you don't have to say anything, we are fine, I promise." He mumbles, making me roll my eyes at him. "Will you shut up for a moment and let me kiss you?" I ask him, making him look at me with a furrow. "What?" He asks me back, still confused which only makes me smirk at him. "Not the sharpest tool in the den, huh?" I wiggle my eyebrows, leaning up to bring my lips on his. He is taken aback for a second, just a second though, before he brings his arm behind my back to support me and bring me closer to him. I am tightly pressed against his body, feeling his chest inflate and fall as we kiss. I push us back until he is sitting on the little couch of the room, not breaking the kiss, until I am straddling him. My hands cup his face, fingers tracing his cheeks as we both deepen the kiss. His lips are soft and plumb, and he makes such cute little sounds as we kiss that make me wanna get drunk on him. His fingers are toying with the belt loops of my jeans, carefully not to even touch the skin exposed by my top rising. Which quite frankly, makes him look really hot. "You are a great kisser, have you been told?" He asks me, parting from me to catch his breath. "Yeah... But never by someone who's a greater kisser than me." I reply, making him chuckle. He brings his hand to the back of my head, bringing his lips on mine now, while he smiles against them. "You smell so good." I moan, throwing my head back and causing his lips to slide down my neck. "Do I, now?" He mumbles, lips still on my skin. "So good." I whine, aching for him to find my sweetspot. The music is thumping against the walls, while Calum and I sync to it, moving our lips to the rhythm. It feels nice, like we have come a long way in just a couple of days, and that really makes me warm and fuzzy on the inside.

My Masterlist

161 notes · View notes

statticscribbles · 3 years

Text

Wounds Pt 2

Summary: Sweet Pea/Reader/Fangs; After Fangs returns Sweet Pea decides his friend is too important to him, you don’t hold it against him, however fangs sure does

The door hangs ajar and you watch Sweet Pea’s face morph from relief to a glare. You turn slightly, stepping forward but Sweet Pea beats you to it, hand pushing you back. “We’re done.” He doesn’t look at you as he moves past, staring out his doorway. “Fangs.” He repeats dumbly as if saying his name will make him reappear. He steps out of the trailer; but looks back you can tell he’s not really looking at you. “When I get back you and your stuff will be gone.” It’s not a question; you don’t get a chance to respond before he takes off running, no doubt to find Fangs.

You shakily sit down on the steps, trying your best to keep yourself from crying. You manage to keep it together before someone sits next to you and you can feel your chin wobbling. “I’m sorry.” Jughead sits next to you and you tilt your head at him. “For lying? Bringing Fangs back without telling me? Sweet Pea breaking up with me? You gotta be more specific.” “He broke up with you?” Jughead cringes slightly. “Course. I don’t blame him, best friend is leagues more important than a girl you’ve been with for two months.” You gesture to the trailer park and beyond. “Now he’s out there running around looking for him. Bet he went to Toni’s that’s where he’d go when we got into fights.” “You two fought? Fangs and you I mean?” You nod at him. “Of course,” You laugh dryly. “Now that I think about it, it was mostly about Sweet Pea, and whatever dumb shit he was trying to convince us to do. Fangs couldn’t bear to let him do all the stupid shit he thought of on his own, was convinced he’d kill himself accidentily. Seems like Fangs was the one we should have been worrying about.” Jughead grimaces.

“Y/N about that. The doctors, they got paid off, the sheriff did too, everyone, got paid to tell us he was dead. We only found out two hours before he got back. I swear.” You nod. “I don’t blame you Jughead. I don’t blame anyone really, sometimes relationships just don’t work out, its not the right time, or right person. That’s okay. I’m just happy Fangs is back.” You nod as he leaves assuring you he’s just a call away. You are happy Fangs is back, but as you step into the trailer, slowly gathering your things you can’t help feeling like you’re cracking. You gather everything you can a whirlwind of energy sweeping you around the trailer, you slowly sit on the couch, gripping one of Fang’s shirts you’d brought with you, your fingers curl around it as you start to cry.

“Fuck!” You snarl throwing the shirt onto the ground and shoving it away with your foot. It bumps against the new coffee table and you briefly have the thought of smashing it, of throwing everything that’s not yours onto the floor but you crush that thought, instead letting your nails claw into your arms as you hold yourself together shaking. You can see someone return, too broad to be Jughead, you know Fangs wouldn’t show back up. You can’t help it, you’ve already started crying and knowing Sweet Pea’s back and you have to leave just tips you slightly too far. “I’m sorry. I’ll get out of your hair now.” You stumble around the room gathering the piles of things you’d made. “Thank you for being there for me, I mean it. I love you, just as I love Fangs. Always have and always will regardless of what you think of me.” He catches your wrist pulling you into his chest. “No.” You hiss not even trying to break free, simply thrashing slightly as you sob more, his hands inching under yours to tangle with them so you don’t leave more scratches in you arms.

“Stop please. Just leave me alone, let me go. You just said you didn’t want me here and the minute I try to leave you’re acting like nothing happened. I can’t; I-I don’t care how I feel please, I just want him, I just want you both to be happy. I know I messed up, it’s okay, just don’t rub my face in it. Please.” You sigh resting your head against his chest waiting for him to shove you off, to scream for you to leave and how he doesn’t want to see you again, instead you feel his arms shift as he pulls you into a hug. “I was going to ask if you wanted to join us at Pop’s but it’s okay if you don’t.” You look up to see Fangs his eyes wide with shock, but his face holding no trace of anger or distress. “Fangs?” You swallow shaking your head to try to clear you’re blurry vision. “No it’s Toni.” You can’t help laugh and he smiles back. “Come on, your food will get cold.” “My food?” You question as you swing onto his bike, arms wrapping around him. You sigh; relaxing at how normal it feels as he cuts through the streets to Pop’s.

He seems slightly rushed as he brings you to the booth, letting you sit against the window as he sits next to you. He pushes a burger and shake towards you; you’re about to say something about the extra meal when Sweet Pea walks up and pauses at the edge of the table. “Fangs.” Sweet Pea sighs shaking his head as he slides into the booth across from you. He pulls his burger over glaring at you and then to Fangs. “Sweet Pea. See I can sound pissed too. Which I am. Jughead said you broke up with Y/N?” Sweet Pea shoots you an extra glare. “Yeah, I don’t want some girl coming between us.” He states and you try to hide a laugh when Fangs glares.

“Some girl?” “Your girl then? I’m assuming you two got back together, with the death glares you’re shooting me. You were right she moves on fast.” He laughs bitterly ignoring whatever the look Fang’s gives to focus on his food before he jerks, dropping his burger. “The fuck Fangs?” You tilt your head realizing Fang’s kicked him in the shin. “Don’t be a dick just cause you’re pissed I was dead for two months.” “Why are you taking this so well?” You comment and they both look to you, Sweet Pea nods in agreement his face softening slightly. “Well I wasn’t dead, and neither of you were either, to me I was at a rehab center two towns over for my safety. FP arranged it.” Fangs shrugs and you and Sweet Pea gasp. “What?” He says around the straw of his shake.

“FP said you died, he said everyone got paid off and-“ “Yeah who do you think paid them? He did.” Fang shrugs again. “But back to more important things. You two. Obviously you must have feelings for each other, since it wasn’t just a one time ‘our friend is dead’ hook-up. Which, if Sweet Pea wasn’t such an idiot he wouldn’t have broken up with you to save our friendship or whatever excuse he used to justify it.” You nod along with Fangs and Sweet Pea sulks refusing to look as Fang’s glare deepens. “And, if he would have listened to what you were saying, about what I mentioned to you before this whole fiasco. He wouldn’t have had to do any of that and make you miserable.” “I wouldn’t?” Sweet Pea looks confused at Fangs.

“Like I was saying earlier-“ “You said you wanted to be with me. Nothing about Y/N.” “Yes because I assumed we should talk about that with her here. Which we can do now. If you’re going to behave.” “You sound like Y/N when she gets annoyed at us.” “Yeah I do, you know why?” Fangs snaps slightly. “Because whenever she scolds us we actually listen and work out our problems.” “There’s no our. There’s no we, no us. No nothing.” Sweet pea snaps. You can see the hurt on Fang’s face and the regret that shutters down Sweet Pea’s face as he registers what he said. “Fangs come on I didn’t-“ “You wouldn’t have said it otherwise, you always say what you mean; one of the reasons I love you. But it’s fine. You can finish your food and we’ll all go our separate ways. I’ll see you two at school.” Fangs shrugs finishing his shake and standing up, leaving you and Sweet Pea to eat in silence.

“Sweet Pea..” You start but quiet yourself when he lifts his head. “Go on yell at me too.” He speaks just above a whisper; you stand sliding into the booth next to him. “Fangs isn’t really mad at you, it’s just a lot for all of us to deal with, you just need to give him time.” “I miss you.” “I’m right here.” You respond. “No I mean, I regret-“ “I’m right here Sweet Pea.” You tuck yourself under his arm and sigh. He lets his head lean on yours and sighs as well. “Shall we go get our man then? It’d probably be better to talk at your place anyways, less prying eyes.” You laugh a little shimmying out of the booth and holding your hand out.

Support My Writing?

32 notes · View notes

vankeppel · 3 years

Text

|| age of piracy au

Governor Thomas Gage was a kind man, very easy in manner. Captain Clinton suspected it was this gentleness that allowed him to be loved by the inhabitants, but not feared by his enemies.

“Again, I apologize for the absence of my lieutenant governor. Lord Cornwallis is away on business at the nearby island. Keeping up good relations and all.” Gage waved a hand.

“Ah. Of course.” Clinton stood, nodded stiffly.

“I do appreciate your arrival, Captain. We have been sorely lacking in a naval presence for over a year.”

That reminded Clinton of something he’d been meaning to ask.

“My predecessor...I wasn’t told much about him. I apparently ran into his brother yesterday-“

Gage’s smile soured into annoyance. “Damn. I told Billy not to bother you.” He sighed, his look softening.

“Forgive him, it’s been hard. The Howes are a well settled family in England, but relatively new to spreading their roots across the ocean. Richard was given the naval posting here and it was decided William should follow along. The rest of the family is still in England. Even after Richard’s passing, they insisted William stay here, even more desperate now to establish themselves.”

Gage looked out the window, a little bit downcast. “He’ll probably go into business here, a merchant lord, if you will.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. He did seem...upset.” Although the man had been rather rude, Clinton did feel sympathy for him.

Gage fiddled with his pocket watch. “I held off for so long, too long, in asking for a new naval commander. William was certain Richard would return...a replacement would only confirm his fears.”

“You pity him?” Clinton asked not unkindly.

Gage smiled softly. “I’ve been governor a long time here, so I didn’t mind looking out for them when they arrived. The lads’ father died as governor of Barbados when they were but children in England. Their eldest brother died in the last war while fighting here. The tropics have not been kind to the Howes.”

Clinton picked up on the tiredness in the other man’s voice, realized he looked much older than his forty-something years.

“Well, thank you for the context. I’m sorry for the loss of Captain Howe. I’m sure he did well, here.”

Gage looked at Clinton a moment. “Yes, thank you. I think you’ll do fine here, too, sir.”

———

The clouds provided cover for the old ship as it silently glided near the harbour.

“There she is.” Gentleman Johnny spied the island through his glass.

“This is nothing more than a scare. The mere preliminaries. Our entr’acte, if you will.” Burgoyne paced the deck as the pilot steered closer. He looked at Richard.

“If that new captain’s anything like you,” A sly smile spread across his handsome face, “and I’m sure he is, he’ll come charging head first at us.”

“Not every Navy man is the same. Perhaps he’s smart enough to be different.” Richard shrugged, staring straight ahead.

“Pah! They’re all the same! If difference was allowed I would be in there!”

Burgoyne hopped up onto the railing, hanging onto the ropes by an arm. His long wine-coloured coat billowed about him in the breeze.

“Easy now, almost there.” He muttered.

Once they were close enough to his liking, he turned round, called to Richard.

“If you’ll pass me my hat, there, and call up the crew.”

The hat was a grand affair, a cocked one with a ginormous plume of feathers and laced in faded gold braid. His rings clanked together as he ran a hand through his long hair before placing the hat on top.

His ears perked up at the faint sound of music floating across the water.

“Why...yes...” He smirked to himself.

“They’re here.” Richard tugged at his coat tails.

Burgoyne faced his crew, nimbly walking across the railing as he spoke.

“Why, it seems they’re having a party! Such a shame they forgot to invite us!” He grinned, and the crew roared with laughter.

“Alright! You know what we’re here to do. I want cannons loaded and manned! Make sure to defend the ship, the rest of you...follow me!”

And with a dramatic flourish, he swung from the rope onto the harbour deck.

———

There was a ball, tonight. It was courtesy of an elite family, Clinton hadn’t bothered to learn the name.

He really preferred to stay away from such large engagements. He’d always been uneasy around them, would rather be reading at home or playing his violin.

It was Governor Gage who insisted he come along, inspire the populace with his presence. Indeed, he’d garnered many smiles and handshakes through the evening, everyone dazzled by his dress uniform and what it symbolized.

Of course, these introductions were easy, all Clinton had to do was repeat the same thing to multiple faces. Anytime someone made to start a real conversation with him, he’d quickly find an escape.

“Oh, come now! The evening isn’t even half over, Captain.” A high voice chided Clinton, who was standing in one of the room corners, sipping his glass.

It was Margaret Gage, the Governor’s wife, Thomas on her arm.

Due to frequent introductory business, Clinton had been to the Governor’s house many times the past week, meeting both Margaret and their children. They were obviously a happy couple, content in life.

“Ah, my apologies, Mrs. Gage. I’m afraid these past years on solely ship and sea have taken away from my social aspects.”

“Well, you’ll never get any better if you don’t start now. Join in a dance!”

Clinton had come to like the Gages almost instantly, so he shrugged and set down his glass, following them to the floor.

“There he is, that’s the devil.” William, watching Clinton across the room, whispered to his friend Frances.

She slapped him playfully on the arm.

“Hey!”

“Billy, you hardly know him!” She scolded.

William pouted. “I know that I don’t like him.”

She sighed. “I know you’re still upset, but he bears no responsibility for what’s happened. He doesn’t need your ire.”

William nodded, looked down. Fanny was the only person who could talk to him about Richard like that. He knew she did it in good nature.

He exhaled, looking upward, a few strands of hair falling in front of his face. He smiled down at her.

“Yes, I know. You’re right.”

“Of course I am.” She stuck out her chin and smirked, but her eyes were kind.

“Now, why don’t you introduce me to him?”

And before William could object, she pulled him by the hand towards the Captain.

“Excuse me? Sir?” A female voice piped up behind Clinton, who turned to find a young lady with voluminous curls pulling along...William Howe.

Great.

“Well?” The lady whispered sharply to Howe, who looked quite pained to be facing Clinton.

Not like Clinton wanted to encounter him either.

“Captain Clinton! I believe we’ve...made our acquaintance before?” William forced a smile.

“Ah, yes. How could I forget.” Clinton’s manner was equally as forced.

“My friend wanted to meet you. This is Miss Frances Conolly.”

A repeated gesture again. Clinton felt the tightness in his chest fade. This he could do.

“Captain Henry Clinton. A pleasure, Miss Conolly.”

He took Miss Conolly’s hand in due courtesy, and she smiled.

“We’re all thrilled to have you here, Captain. It’s been a while since we’ve had royal ships defending us.”

Clinton saw Howe flinch.

“Well, I’m ever glad to do my duty, Miss.”

“You didn’t perhaps know Captain Richard Howe, by any chance?” She asked earnestly.

The tightness returned. “Ah, no. I’m sorry.”

Clinton was quickly thinking of a way to get out of this, when, miraculously, it was provided for him.

Of course, he would have preferred something a little less dramatic.

“We’re under attack!”

#Gage is here! Frances is also here bc I love her! whooo!!#AOPau #byrd writes and screams #Fanny’s look is purely hc since no portrait exists of her RIP

5 notes · View notes

dcbbw · 4 years

Text

Sneak Peek Sunday (8-23-2020)

I know for certain I was tagged by @sophie-and-shizuku, and I think I may have been tagged by @bebepac. Honestly, I have not had a lot of time to work on anything because of work obligations but I do have a fic ready to post and a handful of almost-there WIPs; fics that if I just sat down and added one more section, or did a final read-through on, I could post.

For Sneak Peek Sunday, I present to you my They’re Almost Ready list.

Boomerang (Un-Romance AU):

Maxwell.

I wonder what he is doing here. Then I hear his voice carry over my partition.

“Hey, Reebee,” he says, using his nickname for me.

“Max!” I say a little too loudly and a lot too cheerfully.

He steps to my ‘doorway’. “I come bearing treats,” he announces as he holds out a brown paper bag in one hand and my pink drink in the other.

I tell him to come in, and he plops in the guest chair before handing me my drink and cookies. I place them on my desk and roll my chair around so I’m facing him. I eye him appraisingly: Maxwell looks good. He’s still slim with a head full of gelled hair; his face is still handsome in an odd way. Maxwell is the type that is always animated: eyes flashing and sparkling, a permanent half smile lifting one corner of his mouth, hands moving.

A man in motion.

Right now, his leg is jiggling while his fingers tap and dance against his pant-covered thigh.

“What brings you here?” I ask curiously.

“I dropped Pen off this morning and walking her to the elevator, we ran into Lynn going on a coffee run.”

I freeze momentarily. Maxwell dropped Penelope off? “You and Pen?” I ask in what I hope is a casual tone.

He nods happily. “I ran into her at a pet shelter a couple of weekends ago. We talked some, grabbed some lunch, and we’ve been … hanging out ever since.”

“He was looking for a peacock!” Penelope offered helpfully from her cubicle.

I nod slowly. “Hanging out,” I repeat.

Max’s eyes grow wide as he takes in my expression. “It’s not like that.”

We stare at each other. The yet is unspoken.

Ghosts (Damien/Kai/Hayden ):

We were eating dinner in the living room. America’s Most Eligible was on, and for whatever reason, Kai and Hayden absolutely love that show. There were shrieks of laughter and finger pointing at the television set while I watched them absently, barely tasting my dinner.

Hayden noticed my lack of scoffing and reprimand and looked at me quizzically. “Are you okay, love?”

Kai put down her forkful of food to look at me through narrowed eyes. “Does this have to do with that client? What’s the job, Damien?”

She is neither suspicious nor jealous, just protective. Kai doesn’t love deeply or passionately; she loves fiercely.

I sip some cold beer. “I don’t know the job yet. I have to meet with them to find out.”

They both look at me skeptically. I shrug. “I just … I don’t know. I feel disconnected and I don’t know why.”

Except I do. I’m lying to the two most important people in my life, after mom and siblings, because of a man who left me three years ago. Over a phone call. I didn’t hear from him when I was heartbroken. I didn’t hear from him when robot assassins and a crazy man were trying to kill me and my friends.

No, he waits until I’m happy again to call. And I answered.

Love in a Time of Betrayal:

The light in the room was muted as the late afternoon sun filtered in through the closed window blinds. The heavy damask curtains were pulled open, tied back with cords of silk rope. They reminded her of an opera box.

Her hands ran down the front of his shirt, frantically pulling buttons through their holes; the diamond on her finger sparkled in the muted light of the room. The fabric was soft beneath her fingertips. Silk? Often washed cotton? It didn’t matter as she pulled the shirt from his broad shoulders. He let out a low laugh at her eagerness, his hair falling across his forehead in an endearing way.

She couldn’t wait to run her fingers through it.

The man pulled her closer to his bare chest, his short curly hairs matted to his skin. She breathed him in: pinecones, green grass, cognac. A hint of leather. Her lips found the crook of his neck and placed a kiss on his collarbone. He responded by planting a kiss in her hair.

They were star-crossed lovers, their hearts and their fates always at odds. The very Universe telling them constantly that they were not to be together, yet their bodies spoke differently.

Their love spoke differently.

She wondered if what they shared was lust or love, and always decided love. Lust could be sated, but her feelings for him never were.

He knew he loved her, with every fiber of his being. But he saw the signs: every chance they had at happiness was snatched away; sometimes cruelly, sometimes subtly. Either way, the pain was the same:

Deep. Hurtful. So intense not even the sweet release of death would alleviate it.

But here they were again, under the most trying of circumstances, attempting to right their world the only way they knew how.

The Queen’s Friendship:

The woman and Veronica were sitting in a dive bar, eating burgers and drinking beers. It had been five years since high school graduation, and their group of friends had disbanded:

Brenda’s mother had died soon after graduation, and she and her siblings had sold the house and divided the money. Brenda moved to Richmond, VA and had gotten a job with the state government. She was expecting her first child any day.

James had gotten a football scholarship from Auburn University. He played well, but not well enough to be noticed by the NFL. He was working as an accountant in Birmingham.

Michael D. had joined the Army.

Michael B. had moved to DC to attend Howard University and was applying to the police academy.

Shirley was in nursing school, and roommates with Rosalind, who was now a cosmetologist.

Ryan had gotten a degree in Physical Education Teaching and Coaching. He had always liked sports, but not playing them. He was waiting to hear back from the school board about a coaching position.

Veronica had gotten her meeting planning certification and was now looking to get into real estate.

The woman had her degree in Office Administration, along with the rest of the world. She had applied to several places but had yet to hear back.

Veronica dipped her French fry in ketchup as she studied the woman’s face. “I need you to be there! We’ve been friends forever and I want you to be my maid of honor!”

“You and Ryan are getting married?” The woman repeated her friend’s earlier statement, feeling foolish. Why, she wasn’t sure.

Veronica leaned back, tapping her nail against her chin. “I thought you were over Ryan?”

“I am! I am!” the woman hurriedly reassured her lifelong friend. “I just … wow, life is moving fast.”

Veronica nodded as she sat up straight. “It is, but it’s right, ya know?”

The woman nodded, but she didn’t know. She didn’t know how right felt. The two friends finished their meal, and on their way out, the woman saw a sign hanging on the wall: Now hiring waitresses, all shifts.

How I Met Your Wife:

The Duchess stopped fussing long enough to allow Yu to greet her deferentially; Riley smiled at the pretty, slim waitress and asked if there were a more private dining area she and her friends could enjoy their lunch. Yu arched an eyebrow; already the waitress held resentment against the Duchess. Of course she would want to lord her power and position over everyone else.

With a grunt, Yu led them to the private dining area reserved for large and/or private parties. Once the group was seated, Riley grasped Yu’s hand. “Thank you so much for accommodating my request. My appreciation will be reflected in your gratuity.”

Yu looked at the Duchess with a touch of incredulity before saying, “It’s the least I can do given that the King is offering the orchard workers some relief. I have family members who are affected.”

Riley looked at the waitress with concerned eyes before rummaging in her purse. “What are their names?”

Yu gave her the names before leaving the table with menus. She didn’t expect anything to come of it, but at least the new Duchess gave good lip service. She returned with the tea service in time to hear the Duchess on her phone arguing with someone who had to be the King.

“NO, you CANNOT return to the manor, Liam! And NO ONE is coming to the Palace! How in the HELL are you going to suggest WE use the SAME BAKER you and Madeleine were going to use?”

Silence as the Duchess listened to whatever the King was saying.

“I DO NOT CARE THAT THEY ARE THE ROYAL BAKERS! DO I LOOK ROYAL TO YOU?”

Yu hung back, not sure what to do. Riley smiled, and waved her over. “I am going to find a local Valtorian baker for the cake.” Brief silence. “IT ISN’T OUR WEDDING CAKE! I have three people, possibly four, with me RIGHT NOW who would LOVE to be the Duke of Valtoria! Don’t worry about who they are!’

More silence, then the Duchess hung up the phone. She looked at Yu. “The King will be joining us. Please send him here when he arrives.”

Coronation:

I run my hand through my hair while keeping the other on the steering wheel. The car is quiet, too quiet. I turn on the radio and a melancholy song fills the sedan.

And I bruise when you leave the room I never liked the way it felt Keepin' my hands to myself, mmm

Like some magic moment of which I'm not quite sure I wonder if you've ever been in love like this before You'll be scared when I possess you But you'll want me all the more

The music doesn’t help because my brain is filled with questions and images. There’s not enough room for the music and I impatiently turn the radio off. My phone rings; my hand fumbles on the passenger seat and I pull my eyes from the nearly empty road long enough to see it’s Beaumont calling and press the speaker button to answer.

“Yeah?” I growl as I check the speedometer and press a little harder on the gas pedal.

“Drake! We got Little Blossom! She’s going to stay!” he babbles excitedly in my ear.

I am quiet for a moment before I respond. “That’s great. Liam will be happy to hear it.” I don’t bother to ask Maxwell why he convinced Brooks to stay.

Liam made a choice. It wasn’t her.

“I thought you’d be more excited,” Maxwell says with some confusion in his voice.

“Olivia showed up at the Coronation, talked to Liam, and left. Then the pictures of Brooks came out. Wondering if there’s a connection.”

“You think Liv sent the pictures?”

I roll my eyes in annoyance. I try to keep the irritation out of my response. “No, Beaumont. I’m wondering if whoever did this to Brooks is behind Liv’s leaving.”

Desperate Measures:

Blinking back tears, Bertrand glanced at his watch. He raised an eyebrow as he realized it was almost time for his visitors. They were coming to meet with the stoic, confident Duke of Ramsford, not some maudlin, lovesick fool whose bank account was dangerously close to being overdrawn.

He pulled his papers together in neat stack and centered them precisely in the middle of the desk. He opened a drawer, and retrieved his lint brush, rolling it in brisk strokes over his suit jacket and sweater vest. Before leaving the study, he reached in a candy dish; he plucked a breath mint, which he popped in his mouth.

The Duke strode down the hall, ignoring the paintings and photos that lined the walls. He needed to check on lunch; the cook had been with the Beaumont family for decades; she still came in twice a week to do the grocery shopping and prepare dinner for the Duke and Lord. The rest of the staff had been let go; Bertrand could not afford to pay them, and people needed to make a living.

Bertrand trusted the chef implicitly, and normally wouldn’t micromanage, but today was important.

This meeting could put House Beaumont back on the road to riches.

Crown Prince Liam’s social season was starting in two days’ time; Maxwell had accompanied the Prince and some friends to New York City. Bertrand had tasked him with finding a wealthy American socialite who may be willing to sponsor herself in the season. It was a long shot, but Bertrand was desperate. Nothing seemed too farfetched at this point.

House Beaumont could not afford to sponsor anyone; however, every house who entered a suitor received a stipend to cover expenses such as clothing, food, and transportation. The House with the winning suitor received press coverage and a check to be split with the suitor.

Bertrand needed a winning suitor.

But the noblewomen of Cordonia did not need House Beaumont; they had their own houses, and no need to come out of pocket. However, there was one suitor who was entering the season who came from a minor noble house. A suitor whose name was unknown despite her mother having strong ties to Cordonia.

A suitor who had money, and lots of it.

Lady Hana Lee of Shanghai.

What are you working on @ao719 @bobasheebaby @katedrakeohd @glaimtruelovealways @burnsoslow @thecordoniandiaries @bbrandy2002

#sneak peek #on a sunday #long post #dcbbw writes #a lotta wips

41 notes · View notes

mikauzoran · 3 years

Text

Adrienette/Lila Fake-Dating/Emotional Blackmail: Betting Against the House: Chapter Nine

Read it on AO3: Betting Against the House: Chapter Nine: Containment/Contentment

“Lila!” Adrien called out, raising his hand in greeting. “Hey. Good morning.”

“Good Morning, My Prince!” she sang as she trotted up to meet him, leaning in for a kiss.

He caught her by the shoulders and held her back with a sheepish, “I’m sorry.”

“What are you doing?” she whispered through a pasted-on smile so that her lips didn’t move and no one would overhear.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated, loud enough so that their classmates not a stone’s throw off could make out their conversation clearly. “I need to talk to you.”

She blinked, thrown off guard by this adlibbed performance.

“When I asked you out last week, that wasn’t actually my idea. It was my father’s,” he pretended to confess, all the while looking like it pained him.

“What?” she spit tersely as she blinked again in confusion.

“My father thought it would be good publicity, since there’s been all that talk about whether or not we’re a couple over the past few years, so he told me to ask you out,” Adrien lied, having no qualms about throwing his father under the bus.

“I literally can’t say no when he tells me to do something,” Adrien explained, really selling the performance with an anguished grimace. “I’m sorry. I knew it was wrong to mislead you into thinking that I returned your feelings, but I don’t.”

“What are you doing?” Lila hissed through clenched teeth. “You can’t break up with me. We had a deal.”

“I can’t do this anymore,” Adrien pressed on. “I’m ashamed of what I did, and I hope you can forgive me someday. Just know I never meant to hurt you; that’s why I’m ending this before it can go any further.”

“I’m going to make Marinette pay for this,” Lila threatened under her breath in a last-ditch effort to exert control and keep what was happening from happening.

“I’m sorry,” Adrien reiterated, turning to go.

She stepped forward, reaching out to grab him, but the girls were on her like ravenous wolves ready to devour her down to the marrow in her bones in seconds.

Marinette and Adrien made their escape to the classroom with the guys as bodyguards as the girls descended upon Lila, pouring comfort and condolences upon her.

At first Lila was in shock and still angry at Adrien’s insolence. No one had ever defied her before, and she wasn’t about to let him get away with this.

But the girls formed a tight circle around her, blocking her path, and soon Lila gave in and basked in the sympathy and attention, reasoning that she could shred Adrien and Marinette to pieces later.

Once in the classroom, the girls herded Lila to her seat like sheepdogs, keeping themselves between Lila and Adrien and Marinette.

“I’ll sit in back with Lila,” Mylène volunteered, patting Lila’s hand. “She shouldn’t be alone today.”

All the girls agreed and promptly formulated a schedule so that Lila would never have to be alone during the coming week.

The lunch bell sounded without incident, but as they were packing up to go, Lila called out to Adrien, “Can I talk to you real quick? I just have something I need to say. I was too shocked this morning to think straight.”

Everyone exchanged looks.

“It’s okay,” Adrien assured. “Of course we can talk.”

“Provided you don’t mind if I’m there too,” Marinette cut in.

Mylène tugged on Lila’s arm. “Are you sure you’re going to be okay? We’re worried about this upsetting you. We wouldn’t want Papillon to take advantage of your emotions and akumatize you. Do you want one of us to stay behind with you?”

Lila shook her head, resting her hand on top of Mylène’s and giving it an appreciative squeeze. “No. I’ll be okay. Thank you, though, everyone. I think I can talk to Marinette and Adrien by myself.”

Reluctantly, the class filed out, leaving Marinette, Adrien, and Lila alone.

“Don’t worry,” Max whispered as some of the others started to huddle by the doors to try to listen in. He motioned them over towards the stairs. “Markov is on a secret spying mission, and he’s recording in case we need evidence later. Come over here, and we can listen in through the transceiver in case something happens and Marinette and Adrien need a rescue.”

Back in the classroom, Lila looked almost feral as she glared her nemeses down venomously, promising, “I am going to end you.”

“Why?” Adrien scoffed. “Lila, I let you be the victim. I didn’t publicly embarrass you. I didn’t even say anything bad about you to anyone.”

Lila scoffed. “Oh, besides her, you mean?”

“Knock it off, Lila,” Marinette sighed. “This is Adrien’s dad’s fault, not his. He’s the one who made Adrien deceive you and ask you out against his will. Yes, Adrien should have said no, but you and I both know how under his father’s thumb Adrien is. There’s no point in bearing Adrien a grudge.”

Lila’s left eyebrow arched quizzically. “He didn’t tell you what I did, did he?”

Marinette made a show of blinking in confusion. “What do you mean?”

Lila laughed, shaking her head. “Adrien, you’re too chivalrous. I can’t believe you actually didn’t tell anyone. You’re such a martyr.”

Marinette turned to Adrien. “What is she talking about?”

Lila snorted, delighting in revealing her scheme. “He’s been my good little puppet for years, doing what I want in order to protect you.”

Marinette feigned shock and revulsion. It wasn’t especially difficult to conjure up emotions she really had been experiencing less than twelve hours before.

“But now, he’s stopped playing along,” Lila growled, “and there’s nothing left standing in my way. I’m going to burn you to the ground, Marinette.”

Adrien reached out and grabbed Marinette’s hand, squeezing it tightly in order to comfort both himself and her.

“I’m going to ruin you, and you’ve given me the perfect excuse because now you’re the slut who stole my boyfriend.” Lila gave her hair a haughty flip as she descended the steps and started to make her way towards the classroom door. “I’m going to burn you alive and make him watch while I do it.”

Adrien pulled Marinette into his arms protectively, trembling at the thought of something happening to her and him being powerless to stop it.

“Shhh, Chaton,” Marinette cooed as Lila made her exit. “It’s going to be okay. She can’t hurt me.”

“God, I hope not,” he choked, shaken to his core. “I just feel like I’ve made the biggest mistake of my life.”

“No,” she assured, wrapping her arms around him and beginning to sway from side to side like her parents did when they comforted her. “You did what needed to be done, even though it was hard…and everything’s going to be fine because you’ve got me…and I’ve got you.”

“And all we need is love?” he chuckled even as his teeth chattered.

“You’re going to start singing, aren’t you?” she laughed.

“All you need is love,” he did, indeed, begin to sing, performing both parts of the duet as she laughed until she couldn’t help it anymore and deigned to join him.

After their duet, they headed over to the bakery to eat a nice, cozy lunch in peace.

Meanwhile, outside the classroom, their classmates descended upon Lila.

“Are you okay?” Rose demanded tearfully as streams of liquid betrayal trickled down her cheeks.

“That must have been awful,” Alix threw in in an attempt to fulfill her mission.

“Oh, it was,” Lila assured, raising her arm up to her forehead in a show of wooziness. “I don’t know how I’m going to make it through the day.”

“We’re here for you,” Mylène promised, voice shaky in her shock.

“Yeah, and I think we need to continue to be there for Lila,” Alya asserted, brow furrowed in three deep, parallel trenches as she funneled half of her mental energy into containment plans for Lila to keep her the hell away from Marinette and Adrien.

“I don’t think Lila should be by herself tonight. I think we need to have a sleepover,” Alya declared, and the rest of their classmates nodded in agreement.

Lila blinked. “A sleepover? On a Monday? I don’t think any of our parents would allow that.”

Juleka raised her hand. “My mom won’t care if we party until dawn.”

“The Capitaine would happily out-party all of us,” Rose chuckled, her tears beginning to dry a bit at the thought.

“Yeah, and my brother is off limits, but he’s got some hot friends,” Juleka informed. “If you like university guys…. I mean, at least I think they’re considered ‘hot’. I can’t really tell personally.”

“It’s settled, then. Party on the Liberty,” Alix announced, looping her arm through Lila’s and escorting her towards the cafeteria and away from Adrien and Marinette.

Things…were not going as planned.

Lila bided her time for two weeks, eating up the sympathy from the rest of her classmates and not trying to exact her revenge lest anyone catch on and suspect her. Then, once enough time had passed, she began her smear campaign against Marinette.

It was odd. No one seemed receptive to the rumors she tried to start by passing them off as something she overheard.

She tried to tell Aurore about how she was worried about Adrien—because of course she still loved him and wanted him to be happy because Lila was just a wonderful person like that. She tried to tell Aurore about how she’d overheard that Marinette was actually sugar dating several older men and only using Adrien for his fame, money, and influence.

Aurore gave her an odd look and told her gently that she shouldn’t believe everything she heard.

Mireille joined in, adding that no one actually believed those malicious rumors going around about Marinette and that the school was going to find out who had been spreading those lies and hold them accountable, so it was best if Lila didn’t help to spread around the gossip.

Lila made several other attempts, feigning concern for either Adrien or her dear friend Marinette whom she forgave for scheming against her and stealing her boyfriend…to no avail.

People kept deflecting her, telling her she was mistaken or that her information was wrong.

It was infuriating.

She was foiled at every step without Marinette or Adrien having to lift a finger.

It wasn’t just her rumor mongering schemes either. Whenever she set a trap, it was like someone was following behind her and disarming it. On top of that, she couldn’t seem to get Adrien or Marinette alone to put a plot into action because there were always people around or walking in at inopportune times.

To make matters worse, Adrien stopped modeling with her.

At work, Adrien had informed his father that he didn’t feel comfortable posing with his ex-girlfriend and that he didn’t want to make Lila uncomfortable what with the way things ended, so she no longer got to be in advertisements beside him. She tried to take it up with Gabriel, but she suddenly found that her pull with him had all but evaporated.

It felt like it was all slipping through her fingers, and she couldn’t pinpoint where exactly she’d gone wrong. It was as if a secret organization was scheming against her from the shadows, but when she looked over her shoulder, no one was there.

She kept waiting for a black butterfly to come to take advantage of her pent-up anger, resentment, and frustration so that she could finally take her revenge on Adrien and Marinette…but Papillon’s harbinger never appeared.

One day several months later, Adrien caught her as she was leaving the studio for the night.

“Hey. If you’re not busy later, most of the class is meeting up on the Liberty for a free-throw competition between Kim, Luka, Alix, and me. You should drop by. Seven o’clock,” he informed and then walked off like nothing had happened.

It was bizarre and unsettling.

Lila did not like always being thrown off her guard, but it seemed to be happening constantly nowadays.

No matter. She’d be starting university that fall, and there would be ample opportunity to remake herself exactly as she desired. She’d be back in control.

…Still…it wouldn’t hurt to make an appearance at the Liberty later. She was finding that she kind of enjoyed just hanging out with her classmates without all the added fuss of having to maintain her lies and enact her schemes. It was sort of nice not having to keep up the act.

Meanwhile, Adrien and Marinette were busy living out their own version of happily ever after with romantic picnics at the top of the Eiffel Tower, Disney singalong night, baking lessons, fencing lessons, and rooftop games of tag as well as the simple pleasures like snuggling, kissing, and holding hands.

The Lila problem kind of anticlimactically fizzled out with no fuss, no akumatization, just quiet resolution. But that was for the best because they had far more important things to worry about like the fact that their dream weddings weren’t exactly meshing.

“Can we maybe hold the reception on a beach?” Adrien suggested, trying to compromise.

Marinette pursed her lips. “I think it’ll be too cool for a beach in April.”

“Can’t we have a summer wedding?” he pouted.

Marinette scrunched up her nose. “I always imagined it in April. The colours and flowers I picked out work best in April, and I don’t think my dress will work for a summer wedding with a beach reception.”

“They do realize that they’re eighteen, don’t they?” Plagg groaned at Tikki. “They’re not allowed to get married for at least another five years.”

Tikki hummed softly, enjoying the back and forth of their holders. “They’re probably going to be having conversations like this up until the day of the wedding, so you’d better get used to it.”

“Oh, for the love of…” Plagg flew up and kicked Adrien in the arm. “Hey! Stop arguing. Kiss and make up already, and then get me some cheese.”

Adrien was more than happy to oblige, leaning in to kiss Marinette with a smirk. “This is my favourite conflict resolution strategy.”

“Mine too,” she chuckled, happily accepting the kiss.

Adrien arched an eyebrow as they pulled back. “You don’t use that strategy with anyone else, do you?”

“Just Chat Noir,” she assured, snickering.

“Oh. Okay, then. That’s all right. He’s very good-looking. I’d kiss him too.” Adrien smirked and got a playful hand in his face for his troubles.

“Narcissistic dork,” she snorted, shaking her head and grinning from ear to ear.

“Guilty,” he purred.

The

End

#Adrinette #Adrienette #Marichat #Lady Noir #Miraculous Ladybug #Miraculous Ladybug Fanfiction #Adrien Agreste #Marinette Dupain-Cheng #Lila Rossi #Miraculous Class #Happy Ending #Fluff #Lila Gets Exposed #Mikau's Writings #Betting Against the House

6 notes · View notes