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zodiakuroo · 4 years ago

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Cupid’s Bullet

Dabi comes home with a very special Valentine’s Day surprise for you.

Pairing: Dabi x Fem!Reader

Contains: dubcon/noncon, mentions of death, unhealthy relationship, gun play, fear play, forced orgasms, squirting, mindbreak, angst (if you squint?), quirk usage, one slap but it’s a hard one :3, overstimulation, creampie

Word count: 5.3k

Notes: pls this title is so cringe but it's like bullet instead of arrow cause... ya know but anyways happy valentine’s day from scumbag boyfie!dabi

Dating a villain meant that your relationship was unconventional to say the least. For one, public dates were out of the question, unless you wanted it to end in destruction of public property and some scorched heroes. You also always had to have some kind of flimsy excuse for your family and friends when they asked to meet your elusive boyfriend. In addition, you had to accept the fact that he would have to disappear sometimes for weeks on end to do his boss’ bidding.

There was also the small matter of arson, murder and theft and a multitude of other crimes that you’d prefer not to know about. And while you weren’t necessarily okay with a lot of what Dabi did, you loved him. You loved him so much that turning a blind eye was so easy it made you question your own morality. He didn’t scare you either. Not in the slightest, because you knew in his own special way, he loved you too.

In fact it ran much deeper than that. On his worst days, Dabi could set the world ablaze until nothing was left because in the end he didn’t care about anyone or anything, not even himself. Until he met you, he says. He tells you that in you, he’s found something to tether him to this existence.

Ok so maybe he didn’t use those words exactly, but he doesn’t have to. You know that’s what he means when he spoils you with expensive, stolen clothes and jewellery, when he offers to burn alive any person who makes you even the tiniest bit upset and when he comes home to you bloodied and beaten, trusting you to take care of him.

In summary, your relationship forced you to give up on having any “normal couple” experiences. That included, celebrating anniversaries and silly holidays like Valentine’s Day so you never bothered to keep track of them. It could hardly be considered a sacrifice when you compared those things to what you actually got from your relationship.

Dabi had been gone for close to a month now and you didn’t expect him back anytime soon, not knowing where he was or what he was doing. In fact the very last thing you expected was for him to creep into your bedroom in the middle of night and rouse you from your peaceful sleep with a soft kiss on your temple.

You don’t jump out of bed in a panic, like any sane person would. Instead you let out a satisfied hum, surrounded by the scent of burnt flesh, ash and menthol, feeling warmth bloom in your chest. It should be unpleasant but its Dabi’s scent and you’ve missed it. You’ve missed him. You pick your phone up from your night stand, squinting your eyes at the bright light that makes them sting.

Sunday 14 February, 2:43am

“Welcome home.” You mumble groggily, trying your best to fight off your tired body urging you to go back to sleep.

Instead of replying, he greets you by pressing his mouth to yours. You let out a quiet gasp, startled by the sudden display of affection. His lips are chapped but that doesn’t matter, your tongue darts out to moisten them before your lips lock into a gentle kiss.

You reach up, weaving your hands through his dark hair in an attempt to draw him closer but he retreats, opting instead to turn on the bedside lamp but keeping his other hand behind his back. “Sit up doll. Got a surprise for ya.”

Any thoughts of sleep were long forgotten as soon as his lips met yours but now he’s really piqued your interest. You push yourself up against the headboard and sit cross-legged. You look up at Dabi expectantly. Your boyfriend is smiling wide, skin pulled so taut you think one of his staples might give out. He reveals to you what he has hidden behind his back. A square black box, wrapped in a cobalt satin ribbon.

It’s so cliché you can’t help but let out a small snort. “What is it?”

“It’s a gift. You know… for Valentine’s Day?” He says as though it should be obvious to you.

Your heart swells at the gesture. It really was a surprise. Not in a bad way, you just knew he wasn’t your average boyfriend and that was okay. You didn’t want him to be.

“Well now I feel awful. I didn’t get you anything.” You pout as he props the box onto your lap.

“’S like a toy… so it’s technically for you but kinda for both of us.” It’s unusual to see Dabi this excited. The way he’s bouncing on the balls of his feet, eyes filled with mirth makes you all the more curious.

“Like a sex toy?” A giggle escapes you as you undo the bow.

“Are we playing fuckin’ 20 questions? Just open it.” He presses you.

You huff at his impatience but you don’t comment, not wanting to wait any longer either. You remove the lid of the box only to find something wildly unexpected.

A revolver?

You look up at your boyfriend with confusion etched on your face but his gleeful grin doesn’t falter. You’ve never seen a sex toy like this so you pick up the article to test its weight. It’s definitely the real deal.

“Dabi, this isn’t a toy.” You state matter-of-factly.

He merely rolls his eyes and says “Doll, when you can incinerate someone with a flick of your wrist, that little thing is definitely considered a toy?”

“O-okay? What do you want to do with it?” You ask, placing offending object onto your nightstand, not really wanting to hold on to it anymore, the metallic smell making you feel queasy.

“Ever heard of Russian Roulette?” Dabi, picks up the abandoned item, looking down at it with pride.

“What?” You furrow your eyebrows as nervousness starts to creep into your system and you instinctively move to back away from him but Dabi is quick to pull you back.

“It’s real easy doll. No need to look so scared.” He crawls on top of you, caging you in with his limbs. “6 chambers. 1 bullet. All you have to do is be a good girl for me. If not, I pull the trigger and we see what happens.”

The look on his face is positively demented. Azure eyes wide and bright, patchwork face contorted into a a sinister smile, white teeth and silver staples gleaming in the dim light.

“Baby,” you hope the pet name will placate him. It usually does. “I don’t know about thi-“

CLICK

You let out a shriek as your body jolts in fear but you’re unable to move with his weight pressing on top of you.

“You see now doll?” He clicks his tongue behind his teeth. “You’ve gone and wasted a shot.”

Dabi climbs off of you and you’re left lying there with your heart hammering violently in your chest, body trembling, still reeling from the shock of what just happened. Reeling from the shock of what is happening

“You gonna listen now? Gonna be good?” Dabi prompts, rolling the gun around in his hand.

All you can do is nod as your eyes being to water. The uneasy feeling in your stomach only grows worse as your mind races with the possible things Dabi has in store for you.

“Good. Now strip.” He command and like a good girl, you obey.

Your arms feel like they’re made of lead, moving rigidly to take off your shirt (one of Dabi’s old ones). You can’t stop the tears from falling as you pull down your panties, fat droplets roll down your cheeks, desperately trying to swallow the sounds of your sobbing.

This can’t be happening. It’s Dabi. He wouldn’t hurt you. He promised you that.

“Oh cut the fuckin’ waterworks.” He snaps. “As long as you listen, you’ll be fine.”

You try to calm yourself with deep breaths, not wanting to irritate him any further.

When you turn to face him, he’s leaning back on his haunches, one hand resting on his thigh, the other lazily gripping the revolver. “Fair warning, I’m more of a ‘shoot first, ask questions later’ kinda guy. But you know that already.” He thumbs the cylinder, making it spin. “Now, touch yourself for me.”

Breathing is difficult. No matter how much you try, it’s like you can’t get enough air into your lungs. Thinking only of gun in your boyfriend’s hand, you still you bring your own hand between your legs, but you can’t concentrate, what with the dread taking over your body making it tough to have any control of your body. Your movements are stiff and apparently not up to Dabi’s standards.

He only scoffs before-

CLICK

You scream again, body nearly flying off the bed before you curl yourself up into a ball. The fright is enough to stop your heart. For a second you believe it has.

“Doll,” Dabi’s gruff voice brings you back to earth, reminding you that you’re very much alive and whether or not you stay that way is entirely up to him. “You’re ruining my surprise. Got it ‘specially for you and now you’re being a brat.” He quirks an eyebrow at you, almost like a challenge.

“So-sorry.-“ your voice breaks. “I’ll be good.”

You’re still struggling to comprehend how any of this is real. You thought you knew him. You thought he loved you. And here he is, treating your life like it’s a game. You can’t help but think that this is your own fault. You thought you were above everyone else, the exception to your boyfriend’s villain behaviour.

“Yeah?” His voice drops to a whisper. “Then show me.” He challenges you. Dabi slips off his t-shirt and moves between your legs to get a better view, pressing on your knees to split them apart.

Self-preservation kicks in. There is one way out of this alive and that’s doing what he says. You spread yourself even wider, showing him all of you. Your hands, glide over your smooth thighs, kneading the pudgy flesh as you get closer and closer your sex, teasing yourself the way he would. Your fingers find your clit and just a little pressure makes your eyes melt shut. Probably for best anyway. It makes it easier to imagine anything but this. You drag those fingers through your delicate folds, letting out breathy sighs as heat begins to bloom between your thighs.

You pretend, its Dabi’s touch. In your mind’s eye you see the two of you, limbs tangled with Dabi on top, resting his forehead against yours. It’s one of those nights where he wants to go slow. So slow that the sensation of his cock dragging in and out of is you bordering on torturous. It’s one of those nights where he wants to lay his head on your chest, mouthing at your breasts, laving your nipples with his wet tongue while you tell him, in that sensual voice that you love him, that he’s perfect, that he’s yours. Because it’s one of those nights, where everything feels like too much for him and the only person that he really has on his side is you.

It’s not long before you’re leaking. Somewhere, deep in the back of your mind, there’s a voice chastising you for being so easy for him… even now. There’s almost no resistance as two of your fingers, press into your entrance. Your fingers are no match for Dabi’s, they never hit all those deep, hidden spots that make you see stars but still, you start to move them slowly, brushing your thumb over your clit every so often.

“Look at me.” You feel his breath waft over your pussy.

Eyelids fluttering open and you meet his gaze. It stuns you a little and your hands come to a standstill. He is handsome, breathtakingly so, even though he thinks you’re lying whenever you when you tell him that. The way he stares at you, with love and adoration in his eyes, it’s almost like the fantasy you were just imagining. Almost like the fantasy you’ve been living in this whole time. It’s enough to make you forget the situation you’re in. Then the muzzle of the gun is pressed to your clit, snapping you back to reality fast enough to give you whiplash.

“Fucking slut.” He growls and smacks your hand away from your pussy.

You jerk as he starts to move it the gun circles over your sensitive nub and then dipping down to your tight slit to gather up your juices.

“All those fuckin’ tears but look how wet you are.” He says more to himself than you as he admires the way your slick leaves a sheen on the barrel. With his eyes trained directly on yours, his perfectly pink tongue pokes out to lick it clean, groaning at the taste.

The next thing you know his arms are wrapped around your legs, guiding them over his broad shoulders. He kisses you on your mons before his tongue begins greedily lapping at your hole. “Tastes so good doll.” He mutters with his nose pressed against your clit. He slips the wet muscle inside of you making you whine. You reflexively grab onto his black hair, tugging on the stands and he lets out a groan of approval. He moves up to your clit, circling it with his tongue before suckling on it. While he brushes just the tip of a finger over your cunt, making it clench around nothing while you desperately buck your hips, in an attempt to have it inside you.

The way he’s eating you out is almost romantic?

Or it would be, if it weren’t for the metal digging into your flesh.

“Doll,” He places a sloppy kiss on your clit, lighting dragging his teeth over the hood. “Want you to squirt for me.”

A lump forms in your throat. You can count on one hand the amount of times that has happened. You’re not sure of the odds that you’d be able to right now and it’s not a gamble you’re willing to take. “Dabi, I don’t think I can….”

CLICK

You thrash, screaming so loud it makes your throat burn.

Dabi still holds you open, keeping you in place. “I wasn’t asking.” He makes sure to maintain eye contact as he drops a fat glob of spit right on to your clit before diving face first into your cunt once again.

He pushes 2 of his long, lithe fingers into your tight entrance. It’s unexpected and you wince. He drags his right hand (the one holding the gun) up your torso, resting the muzzle underneath your breast, right over your racing heart. A reminder of what’s at stake. He envelopes your sensitive clit with his lips, moving his fingers in tandem with the suction. You’re consumed by desire as Dabi brings you so close to the edge.

“Dee-Deeper please.” Your pant out.

He smiles against your mound before complying with your request. “Right here?” His fingers press against that squishy patch deep inside you and your eyes roll back.

“Nnnggg yeah.” You’re barely able to mewl out. You dig your heels into his back and grind against his face, chasing your high. Dabi keeps hitting that spot with astonishing precision but you hold off for as long as you can, letting the pleasurable sensation build until the pressure in your core becomes unbearable. When it finally snaps because you can’t hold it anymore, your eyes squeeze shut, hands flying to his biceps and you dig your nails into the sinewy muscle. You gush around his fingers and all over his face. Dabi doesn’t move though, flicking your clit with his tongue repeatedly until you’re trembling and whimpering, pushing him away from your pussy. He finally relents, a pop echoing around the room as he lets go of you.

He gives you a predatory look, scared face and chest wet with the remnants of your orgasm. “You made such a mess baby but I’m glad you’re finally having fun.” He’s just as out of breath as you are but far more composed.

Your head is still fuzzy and limbs are still twitching but your boyfriend doesn’t let you recover. “C’mon, doll. My turn.” He begins to undo his belt, silver buckle clinking as he rushes to drag it through the loops of his jeans

You pull yourself on to all fours, now eye level with his crotch. He pulls down his pants and boxers in one go, his erection almost hitting you in the face.

“You’ve been lucky so far.” He taps the bulbous head of his cock on your lips, smearing your lips with the pre that dribbles out of it. “But I wouldn’t test it if I were you. Open.”

Your mouth is already watering at the sight of him. So long, thick and veiny. It’s disgusting actually, this Pavlovian response. He fucks you deeper, stretches you wider and makes you feel better than anyone ever had. You wonder briefly, if anyone ever could fuck you as good as Dabi.

You stick out your tongue and he slides himself between your lips, groaning as he pushes into your mouth, slowly, inch by inch. He fills your mouth completely and you shut your eyes, savouring the salty taste of him but you feel the muzzle press against your temple and making them shoot open. “Atta girl. Lemme see those pretty eyes.” He grunts as he plunges into your throat. You bob your head up and down his shaft, the hand at the back of your head setting a brutal pace. The room is filled with the sounds of you gagging and his hefty sac smacking against your chin.

“So good to me baby.” He tilts his head back, losing himself in the pleasure. The wet heat of your mouth surrounding him while your saliva leaks out, dripping down his balls. Dabi is big and heavy, stretching you so wide and making you jaw ache from the weight of him. You’re already lightheaded from the lack of air, no matter how much you try breathing through your nose. You don’t dare to complain though.

He pulls out of your mouth slowly, stretching a string of saliva from the head of his dick to your tongue that’s hanging out of your mouth. You pant like a bitch attempting to catch your breath. He doesn’t give you much time before he’s in your throat again, back to fucking your face.

“I love you so much. You love me?” He sounds so sweet, totally blissed out.

He stops thrusting and tilts your head up to look at him, blinking tear-clumped lashes. You try utter a ‘Yes, I love you.’ but with his shaft gagging you, it comes out all garbled. The muscles in your throat convulse around the deep intrusion. “You’d do anything for me right?” He asks, jabbing the muzzle even harder into your temple, finger resting lightly on the trigger. You nod, watching Dabi lose his composure bit by bit. “Yeah. That’s why you’re my girl.” He pushes himself even deeper inside you, making you finally take all of him, until your nose meets his pubic hair and holding you there. “Fuck.”

CLICK

“Hmmhhhhngggh” You squeal around him but you can’t pull off because of the grip he has on your scalp. When he lets you go you’re choking and coughing up a lewd mixture of spit and pre-cum.

“Wh- Why” You blubber, voice hoarse. You don’t understand. You were doing exactly what he asked. You were being good.

“Sorry baby. Felt so good, my finger slipped.” He doesn’t even try to hide his mischievous smirk. The fucker is definitely not sorry.

You want to beg him to stop this ridiculous game because you see now there’s no way you can win because Dabi doesn’t play fair.

He doesn’t give you the chance though, already shuffling off his bottoms all the way and propping himself up against the headboard. “C’mon pretty baby.” He tugs on your ankle. Wanna see you bounce on my dick.”

You clumsily position yourself atop his lap quickly, before you can even think about it. You know he doesn’t need a reason to pull that trigger but still, you don’t want to give him one.

He grinds his tip along your heat, piercings dragging across your clit over and over again. It’s something he does whenever you have sex, to rile you up. And just like all those other times, it’s working. Circumstances be damned. “Needa feel this hot little pussy. Give it to me doll.” He murmurs against the shell of your ear.

You nod as you lift yourself off of him to hover your dripping wet hole over his hard dick. You slowly squat down on onto him, the fat head stretching you out, burning with every inch you take. You mewl, making futile attempts to blink away tears. You get halfway before you have to stop, resting your hands on his shoulders trying to gain leverage. You’re outright crying now, wet droplets landing on Dabi’s chest.

“’S matter doll.”

I’m terrified. You yell in your head but stay silent, choosing to focus on relaxing your ever-tightening hole in order to take more of him.

“Oh, I know.” He coos, voice dripping with condescension. “’S too big for your tiny cunny.” He leans forward to kiss away the salty tears. “But you can take it. I know you can.” He cups your jaw, stroking your cheek with a calloused thumb. “You can do it for me”

You start to move slowly up and down, using gravity to force more of his monstrous cock inside you with shallow movements. You really are trying your best but that’s apparently not good enough for Dabi and he lets you know that by pressing the barrel of the gun into your stomach. You freeze, horrified, more tears start falling from your eyes. You open your mouth to beg him to just give you a little time. You’re trying.

“Quit being a baby and just take it.” He says before you even get the chance.

“I’m trying Dabi, please just-“

CLICK

He cuts off your plea. He’s not interested in your excuses.

The rotation of the cylinder sends vibrations through your abdomen. Amidst the shock, you release your grip on his shoulders and impale yourself on his shaft by mistake. The combination of the searing stretch and the blunt head of his cock kissing your cervix is so overwhelming that you collapse forward, head falling on to your boyfriend’s chest. You feel the rumbles of his chuckles while he’s quite literally splitting you open.

“See? Knew you could. Just needed a little scare. Isn’t that right.” He rubs your back as if to comfort you. He lets out a low whistle. “But looks like you’re all out of chances doll. Now bounce.” He gives you a spank with an inhumanly warm hand, making you squeal and leaving your cheek tender.

Your hands find purchase on his shoulders again. Dabi’s sapphire eyes are practically glowing, daring you to be stupid enough to defy him one more time.

You pull off almost entirely, keeping just his tip inside of you, before spearing his shaft into you again.

“Good girl.” When he praises you with that raspy voice makes you keen and desperate for more of it.

His hand snakes its way up your torso to cup one of your breasts. Your back arches, pushing into his scorching hot touch, forgetting momentarily about his other hand and what he’s holding in it. He gropes your chest, tweaks and twists at your nipples, leaving red, inflamed hand prints in his wake. You’re practically delirious with pleasure, babbling out incoherent streams of his name along with “yes” and “more”. All the while, he murmurs praises about how good you are and how much he loves you. It’s confusing and you can’t process any of it.

“Who owns this perfect pussy?”

“Dabi. Fuck. Dabi.” Your tongue lolls out of your mouth in the most obscene way, drooling down your chin. Your plush walls pulse around him as he hits that sensitive spot every time you sink down on him.

“That’s right it’s all fuckin mine. My pretty baby.” Dabi’s eyes are focus on where your two bodies are connected watching the translucent ring of your cream appear and disappear as you ride him.

“Preeeettyyy.” You slur and he laughs at how fucked out you are, brain completely jumbled between the fear, the pain and the bliss all combined into ecstasy.

“Doll.” He groans. “I feel ya squeezin’ me. You gonna cum?”

He’s right. You nod as you feel that coil tightening again, threatening to snap at any second. The man finally starts putting in work, pounding into you every time you pull off of him. Dabi abandons the gun in favour of playing with your clit, rubbing quick sloppy circles. “Yeah? Gonna cream and gush around me? Want you to baby.” He buries his head in the crook of your neck, sucking, biting and licking while he assaults your sopping wet pussy. “C’mon doll, please.”

With that you orgasm. He grabs your hips pulling you flush against his thighs, fucking you through your orgasm, rolling his hips up into you until your high finally subsides.

He doesn’t let you catch your breath before he’s got the revolver pressed hard underneath your chin. “Now make me cum.” You almost collapse but the harsh grip he has on your hair suspends you upright.

Your mind is so foggy and Dabi gives you a small smile, appreciating the perplexed look in your droopy eyes. But he’s not done with you yet.

“Hey.” You’re ripped from your daze, when he slaps you across the face, sending your head swinging to the side. “Don’t pass out on me now.”

“So-sorry! ‘M sorry!” You grovel as you slam your tired body down on his dick once again, trying to ignore the throbbing on your cheek, the ringing in your ears, and the ache in your battered cunt. You’re so sensitive from your last orgasm but you don’t have a choice and you don’t dare deny him anything. Your thighs are quaking and burning with every movement but your boyfriend is unimpressed.

“You can do better than that doll.” He lets out a bitter laugh, enjoying every second of tormenting you. “It’s like you want your brains splattered on the ceiling.”

You start crying again, shaking your head frantically. In the time that you’ve been with Dabi, you’ve learned certain tricks, you know he likes it, but in this panic/lust induced frenzy, you can’t remember any of them. Instead, you bounce, mindlessly on him while your gummy walls clench tighter around him every time he nudges at your a-spot. Your legs are going numb from all the effort and you plop down, limp onto his lap, taking him to the hilt.

Dabi tsks at you, reminding you that you can’t rest just yet. You swivel your hips, grinding your pelvis against his while he’s buried deep in your wet heat. You pray to whatever deity is listening that he’s getting close, you’re not sure how much more you can take.

“If I don’t bust in the next 5 seconds.” His hand finds your clit again, you grind across his fingers has you rock against him. “Bang!” He emphasises the word by bringing a heated palm down on your ass.

A choked sob bubbles at the back of your throat, making him snicker

Hands pressed to his chest, you ride him like a woman possessed, the last bits of adrenaline kicking in. Your sloppy cunt squelches every time you drive yourself down on his cock just motivating you to fuck him harder.

“Five.” He grits out.

“Dabi, please!” But you’re met with icy, apathetic eyes staring back at you, feeling the terror that the rest of the city does when they so much as hear his name.

“Four.” He rubs your already raw clit, faster and you can feel another orgasm building, much quicker than your last two.

Your body feels so heavy but you can’t stop moving, not unless you want him to- “Please cum!” You beg. “Need your cum.”

“Three.”

He starts to fuck up into you again with unforgiving force.

“Wh-Why?!” is all you can manage as your mind starts to fog up again, the need to come becoming all the more urgent.

“Two.” He ignores your question, transfixed on your tits bounce in his face. You’re getting close to your third orgasm of the night and it seems Dabi is determined to get you there.

You still can’t believe this is real. You never thought that Dabi would treat you like this. You were supposed to be special.

Or at least that’s what he told you.

Moreover, you can’t believe how your own body is betraying you. You can’t believe you’re actually going to cum. Again.

“One.”

You cry out his name one last time, unsure if it’s out of fear or pleasure. You dig your nails into his arms again, in a feeble attempt to ground yourself as you cum around him. The orgasm that rips through you makes it difficult for you to be sure of anything.

What you are sure of is the fact that there was no bang or bullet.

Just one last CLICK (practically drowned out by your screaming) and the sensation of Dabi’s hot cum flooding your womb. He has a bruising grip on your hips, gun now discarded, and he ruts up into to making sure to stuff your cunt absolutely full of him. He begins to laugh as he softens inside you.

Your head is still spinning but once you’re able to push yourself off of him, you can finally make sense of what just happened.

He was fucking with you.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” You yell, using weak and quivering arms to throw pillows at him while you cry so hard it makes you dry heave.

Your asshole of a boyfriend starts cackling, clutching his abdomen as if he just pulled the world’s funniest prank while your heart is beating so hard and fast you think it might break through your ribcage.

“You should have seen your face. You were so fuckin’ scared.”

You become nauseous, feeling bile rising in your throat as you come to a sickening realisation.

This is not your Dabi. This is the Dabi that the rest of the world gets to see.

Evil, sadistic, merciless. This is the real Dabi.

You attempt to scramble off of the bed to get away from him, feeling overwhelmed by the humiliation. But Dabi grabs your wrist and yanks you into his chest, wrapping you up in his arms. A gesture you used to treasure but now it just made your skin crawl. “C’mon Doll you didn’t think I was being serious did you?”

You writhe in his hold, hitting against his hard, toned chest with pathetic fists. “Don’t be such a crybaby. It was just a joke.” He strokes your hair oh so tenderly. But you won’t fall for that again. Dabi is a villain through and through. You know that now.

It’s no use fighting him off though, all the fight in you is used up. You don’t know what else to do. So you do the easy thing: nuzzle your head into his chest, tremors rocking your body as you hiccup, while he holds you. That way you can pretend that you feel safe with him, just like you used to.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, doll. I love you.”

#dabi is just the worst huh #sorry about the angst i honestly don’t know how that happened #dark content #dark fic #mha smut #tw dubcon #bnha imagines #bnha smut #dabi imagine #dabi smut #dabi x reader #mha x reader #tw slapping #tw noncon #tw unhealthy relationship #tw gunplay #tw death mention

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miiamour · 4 years ago

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i’ll love you forever

fem!reader x regulus black

summary: regulus tries to save you from him.

warnings: death, breakup, fighting, mention of cheating, sirius & regulus argument, y/n being hopelessly in love.

word count: 1.5k

italics+sectioned: past scenes

italics+small: letters

a/n: i’m sorry if this is bad i’ve been very unmotivated and insecure ab my writing lately.

⊱ ──── ˗ˏˋ✧*♡*✧´ˎ˗ ────⊰

you never thought it was possible to love someone as much as you loved regulus. he wasn’t perfect, he had his flaw like one does, but he was yours; and he’d always be.

regulus adored his brother, despite the different views. regulus grew up watching his brother get punished and abused for being different, so regulus did what his parents said. he believed in the same morals as them and his life was easier.

when he was sixteen, he got the dark mark. you remember him crying in your arms, repeatedly apologizing to you.

—

“i’m sorry y/n” his head buried in your chest and his arms clutching onto your body “they wanted me too, i couldn’t disappoint them! sirius’ is already gone, i didn’t know what else to do!” he cried out.

when he said sirius’ name, it must’ve sparked something. his grip on your body became right her and his sobs louder, despite being muffled in your chest.

“sirius. oh my— sirius! he’s going to hate me” he sobbed at the thought of his brother resenting him.

—

it had been 2 years since that night and it had only gotten worse; he had gotten worse.

he was temperamental and he had the tendency to lash out at you now more than ever. you understood how difficult his life was and the expectations his parents had given him. the last thing he wanted to do was not excede his parents expectations.

he asked you dozens of times why you were still with him, how could you be with him. the answer was simple; you love him. you never could have broken up with him, this was just a rough patch in the path to your happily ever after— at least that’s what you told yourself.

you recalled the times that he’d sneak into your dorm in the middle of the nights and come up with crazy plans of running away together and escaping all of life’s problems; no more abusive parents, no more responsibilities, just the two of you. somewhere warm in the summer for picnics dates and cold in the winter to stay by the fireplace.

but those plans were just dreams. the more you thought about it, it was heartbreaking. no sixteen year old should fantasize about escaping life but that was what came with being regulus black’s girlfriend.

you remembered you had once walked in on regulus having a heated argument with his older brother about their family. sirius seemed as if he had gone mad, the only way you could describe it was pure rage, his eyes were full of bitterness and resentment. regulus could see the disappointment in his brothers face.

—

“i can’t believe you! how could you possibly do this! how stupid are you?” sirius screamed out, his face a bright shade of crimson red.

“how could i? are you kidding me? you left and i didn’t know what to do! some bloody brother!” regulus shouted back. you had been standing at the door way, neither of them noticing you until you began to walk away.

“oi! and who’s this, hmm? death eater girlfriend? i bet she’s just as bad as you” sirius ridiculed, his arms flaying towards you.

“don’t you dare talk about her like that!” regulus stepped in front of sirius.

without another word sirius walked out, his shoulder grazing yours as he left. regulus sat on the edge of his bed, aggressively running his hands through his hair. you slowly walked over to him, you were met with dark hazed eyes— he was so tired of everything. you just wanted to hold him and tell him everything was okay, but you couldn’t possibly lie to him.

—

everything that has happened with him led you to where you are now.

you sat atop his bed, patiently waiting for him to come back from class. you looked around his dorm, at his wall where photos and articles of the dark lord were previously plastered. you weren’t sure what happened but he suddenly wasn’t a big fan of him after he came home from holiday.

“oh, hello darling, i didn’t know you were here” regulus walked in, interrupting your thoughts.

“I‘m sorry, do want me to—” you pointed to the door.

“no, stay, i actually needed to talk to you” regulus replied as he took of his robe and loosened his tie. you could tell it was serious, he sat in front of you and looked at you, lovingly. he gently grabbed the side of your face, admiring you.

in spite of his sweet actions, there was an unsettling feeling bubbling in your stomach.

“you’re so pretty” he mumbled under his breath before shaking his head, bringing himself back to the topic of importance. “there’s something i need to tell you but you need to know that i love you...” he breathed out and shifted uncomfortably.

you noticed an expression of sorrow painted across his face. his eyes were dull and sunken, as they were most of these days. you took his hand in yours “i love you too.” you squeezed his hand gently “what is it reggie? is everything alright? i know you’ve been stressed but it’s all going to be okay—��

“i slept with someone else”.

the worrisome bubble that was previously forming in your stomach exploded, only it turned into a fulminate of agony.

“reg... how could— w-why?” you said lowly. you subconsciously moved away from him, you hands letting go of his. honestly, you didn’t even realize that you were still holding his hand.

“i’m sorry, y/n” he muttered, looking down at his fingernails.

you gently grabbed his face in your hands so that he was looking at you and brushed the hairs out of his face “h-how could you?” tears brimmed your eyes and your voice was small and shaky.

he slept with someone else. the worst part was that is that despite this, you’d still love him. even if part of you was telling you that you should hate him, you don’t think you ever could.

he kept silent, looking at you with tiresome eyes— it seemed impossible that those lifeless eyes were once filled with happiness, not despair.

“it’s okay” you mumbled, a single tear falling down your face. you hummed as you stroked his soft skin, following the curve of his cheekbones. his eyes were puffy and red, resembling yours. you leaned into his shoulder because for once, you wanted him to hold you. you wanted him to tell you everything was going to be okay— even if it wasn’t.

regulus cradled your head as you sobbed in his shoulder. as much as you didn’t want to cry to him about him. you had no one else. all of your friends left you shortly after you began dating regulus because they didn’t see the sweet boy that you did— or the sweet boy that you saw.

“how c-could you? i gave you everything. three years, reggie, three years! of your bullshit. i stayed with you through everything, how could you do this to me? i was with you during everything and you just threw it all away!” you mumbled in his shoulder as you gripped onto his white shirt.

“i hate you” you whispered, but loud enough for him to hear. regulus sobbed quietly as you vociferated into his shoulder. you two stayed like that for what felt like hours, holding onto one another for what you didn’t know would be the last time.

it had been months since you last heard from him. you had both graduated from hogwarts never having spoken again. to be completely honest, you still hadn’t gotten over him. it seemed impossible, as many times as you stated that you hated him. deep down, you knew that you never could because he was your true love.

it was late at night, nearly midnight, when an owl had knocked on your window with a letter. an unfamiliar owl, but very familiar hand writing. the envelope read:

‘to: y/n y/l/n’

‘from: regulus black’

every thought of happiness quickly disappeared as you opened the letter and read the first line. you never thought you could possibly feel this excruciating.

the boy that you vowed to love forever was gone.

you had no idea what to do, you’re vision was blurry and tears filled your eyes, uncontrollably falling down your face. you ran outside and you would have looked mad to other people but you didn’t care, not in the slightest. you screamed, yelled, begged at the moon and stars. how could they have taken him away.

“bring him back, please. bring him back. i need him, my love” you pleaded, you collapsed on your knees and sobbed— wishing that he could hold you like he did that last time.

—

dear y/n,

by the time you’re reading this, i’m probably already dead. you see, i’ve found out why lord voldemort is immortal and i’m planning on destroying it. i hope you understand that, everything i’ve ever done was for you. i want you know that i never cheated on you, there’s wasn’t nor is there anybody in this world who could’ve loved me the way you did. it’s been difficult, living without my true love. but i’ve managed, as will you. goodbye y/n. i’ll love you forever.

—

taglist: @keepawaythenargles @anywherebuthere @myloveforluna click here to join my taglist<3

#regulus black #regulus black angst #regulus black fic #hp #the marauders era #james & peter & remus & sirius #the maruaders #regulus x y/n #regulus black x you #regulus black x reader #hp fic #regulus arcturus black #mia’s work

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writeyouin · 4 years ago

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Whirl X Reader – My Human - (COMMISSION)

Commission Request – IDW Whirl X Reader. A relationship that turns from Rocky to Love based off the Human Crewmate story. And some smut at the end please.

Word Count – 1884

A/N – Hey, @cyansadgirl I hope this is exactly what you’re looking for. Thank you so much for commissioning me. Happy holidays.

RATING – M

WARNINGS – NSFW/SMUT

You stood patiently outside Whirl’s hab-suite, playing a game on your communicator whilst ignoring the crashes and roars from inside. Ultra Magnus had just informed Whirl that you were to be his new roommate, and Whirl was not taking it well.

It had actually been Rung’s idea, and he had held a meeting with you, requesting that you be Whirl’s first room-mate aboard the Lost Light. You, as the only human, would benefit from the company, and Whirl in turn would hopefully learn to control his temper with someone so delicate living with him.

Nobody really knew if it was a good idea but you had agreed all the same and now all that was left to do was wait until Whirl had calmed down long enough for you to move in. Finally, Ultra Magnus stepped out, looking as grim as ever. He gave you a curt nod and left without another word, hoping that he wouldn’t have to come and correct Whirl’s behaviour again later.

Picking up your bag with the very few possessions you had, you headed into Whirl’s room, noticing that the area that you were supposed to inhabit had been thoroughly destroyed.

Whirl glared at you, “DON’T THINK YOU’RE STAYING HERE FLESH-BAG. ALL YOUR KIND ARE FRAGGERS.”

“I’m sorry you feel that way,” You sympathised. “I hope you’ll find that I’m not like that.”

You walked to your destroyed corner, fishing out a torn blanket and a pillow that had somehow survived.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING? GET OUT OR I’LL THROW YOU OUT. YOU THINK YOU CAN STAND UP TO WHIRL? I’M THE TOUGHEST BOT ON THIS FLYING SCRAP-HEAP. I’LL KILL YOU.”

“Yes, I have no doubt to your strength,” You replied calmly, trying to hide your fear at his words; Rung wouldn’t have suggested this if he thought you would get hurt. “But I was thinking maybe you could give me a chance?”

Whirl narrowed his optic, glaring as you pulled the destroyed furniture towards the door, never once asking for help. He considered throwing you out, but Ultra Magnus had already given you the lock-code, so there would be little point unless he barricaded the door.

“Hah, good luck recharging,” Whirl spat spitefully. “I wrecked that stupid bed of yours.”

“I’ll manage fine with what I’ve got.”

Whirl wondered why you were even bothering. It was already clear that he was going to make your life hell but there you were, stubborn as ever. Well then, he would make a delightful little game of it; if he was going to torture you, he might as well enjoy it.

Whirl glowered on his side of the room. He shouldn’t have to be stuck with you, it was all Ring’s fault for even suggesting you move in with him, and those two dumb captains who were clearly too weak to say no to the eyebrowed freak.

No matter how much Whirl destroyed your stuff or how many insults he threw at you, nothing would get rid of you. You always reacted the same way, with a comment on how you hoped things would change and with that loathsome sympathetic smile that made his spark flutter; HE DIDN’T WANT YOUR SYMPATHY, DAMN IT!

Well, he could outlast you no problem, and he would make sure that he was victorious. Whirl looked for every opportunity to break you mentally, knowing that it would be far too easy to damage you physically; he told himself that there would be no challenge in that and that it wouldn’t do him any good anyway. How could he gloat if you were dead?

It was on a day when you were high up on a custom-made window seat that Whirl finally went too far. He’d had an extremely bad day with some arrogant fragger in “Visage’s” and worst of all, he’d had his aft handed to him in front of everybody. It was rare that Whirl was beat in combat, but he had been a little too overcharged to fight off that other mech, and then he had to return to his hab-suite with a bruised ego. Sure enough, you were there, gazing out at the stars and distant planets with a drink in hand; why did you always have to be there?

“Get the frag outta here,” Whirl slurred angrily.

“Whirl,” You gazed at him with sad eyes, “Did something happen? You look ups-”

You gasped as Whirl punched your window seat. He’d only meant to shake you up, or make you trip over. He’d never intended to hurt you, yet as you fell, you instinctively pushed out your hands to protect yourself and instead, your hand crushed your glass. You cried out in pain, glass embedded in your hand.

“Oh frag!” Whirl exclaimed, “WHAT DO I DO?”

He wanted to grab you and rush to med-bay, but he was afraid of hurting you further, so he called First-Aid to come to him instead. Whirl waited outside while you received stitches on your hand. He felt sick, and the common feeling of self-loathing began to consume him, as it usually did when he had regrets. Why was he such a piece of scrap? You hadn’t done anything to hurt him, not that you could. You were actually the nicest person he’d ever met. Why did he always have to destroy everything good in his life? It wasn’t your fault that you were roommates, it was Reng’s and yet there you were, paying the price. Whirl sat down on the floor, pulled his legs into his arms, and waited for the inevitable moment where you would move out and leave him alone once again.

Much to Whirl’s surprise, you didn’t hate him for the pain he’d caused you. In fact, your first concern was to ask him if he was okay. Whirl scoffed and told you not to be so stupid, but he lacked his usual bite. All he wanted to do was make things right, and since you had evidently decided to stay, he supposed he would get that chance.

His optic lingered on your bandaged hand as he made a gruff apology, unable to meet your eyes. Once you accepted his apology, Whirl felt a weight lift off his chassis. He knew he wasn’t out of the woods yet, but he would do everything he could to make it up to you.

From that day on, Whirl made a constant effort to talk to you, even in public, though he acted much tougher when there were others around, only dropping his guard when you were alone. He answered your questions about his life, even when the truth hurt, and slowly but surely, he found himself lowering his defences.

Most of the time, Whirl found that he had come to enjoy your company. He taught you all he knew about making clocks, even though you were completely awful at it. Whirl was glad that he didn’t have a mouth you could see him smiling with; it was just too damn funny when you got your tiny hands stuck in the springs.

It was one night while you were asleep, and Whirl wide awake that he looked over at you, his spark racing. True, you were no Cybertronian but maybe that was a good thing. After all, look at the damage that Cybertronians had knowingly caused, not only against each-other, but towards other innocent planets too. You would never hurt anyone. You were far too kind to. You were sweet, patient, sympathetic, sensitive, and Whirl was in love with you.

His claw rested despondently against his helm. The simple fact of the matter was that Whirl wasn’t good enough for you. He had already hurt you once. What was to stop him from doing so again? Was it selfish to keep you in his life whilst harbouring such feelings? He didn’t believe so; however self-destructive it would be to him, it wouldn’t affect you, so long as he never told you how he felt.

So, Whirl suffered in silence, his spark aching for what he couldn’t have, until the fateful day that you confessed your own blossoming feelings to him.

Whirl couldn’t believe his audials. He stared at you in a stunned silence, struggling to find his voice.

“You… what?” He choked out.

“I love you,” You said calmly, saddened by the knowledge that he probably didn’t feel the same; interspecies love was usually one-sided.

“You- No. Uh-uh. That’s scrap,” he shook his head disbelievingly.

“I know… You don’t have to feel the same back. I just thought it was better to tell you, in case things changed between us. You… You don’t have to keep me as your roommate if you don’t want to. I’ll understand if-”

“NO! YOU DON’T GET IT. I’M WHIRL. I WAS A WRECKER. I WAS NEVER MADE TO BE IN A RELATIONSHIP. IF YOU’VE EVER THOUGHT OF ME THAT WAY, THEN YOU’RE EVEN MORE DYSFUNCTIONAL THAN I AM. WHAT THE FRAG IS WRONG WITH YOU THAT YOU WOULD EVEN CONSIDER A MONSTER LIKE ME?”

Whirl abruptly ended his rant at the sight of tears in your eyes; once again, without even trying to, he had hurt you.

“I’m sorry I upset you,” You apologised, leaving Whirl feeling worse than ever when he felt that it should have been him saying sorry.

“I LIKE YOU TOO,” Whirl exploded, lacking eloquence as usual. “I’m no good at this stuff but… we could try talking about this, I guess.”

You cried out Whirl’s name, panting heavily as he thrust into you, working off months of pent up sexual frustration.

For once, Whirl was eerily quiet, his processor overloaded by how tiny, soft, and different you were. He had planned to be gentle with you but seeing you naked beneath him with your cheeks flushed and your head lolling proved to be too much for him. Every time you called out his name, he was reminded just how lucky he was; he couldn’t remember ever being loved, and yet here you were proving that he was worth your affections.

His spike pushed between the wetness of your legs, repeatedly hitting your G-Spot, edging you ever closer to your climax. Your every nerve seemed to tingle, alight with passion. All too soon, you felt yourself clamping around Whirl’s spike.

“Oh God- God- It’s- AH~” You keened as Whirl continued through your climax, completely aroused by your orgasm.

After four more orgasms on your behalf, Whirl finally felt the onset of his own.

“(Y/N), THIS- IS FOR YOU!” He cried out through the static in his vocaliser.

His overload finally hit, filling you up with his transfluid that dripped down your soaked pussy.

Once the two of you had come down from your highs, Whirl swaddled you in a blanket, hooking his arm around you and clutching you into his side.

“This is nice,” You yawned, snuggling into his heat.

“Yeah,” Whirl agreed, having never felt something so intimate. “It really is.”

With that, you both fell into a peaceful silence, safe in each other’s embrace. As you drifted off to sleep, Whirl wondered if he was right to have hopes of a successful relationship. He knew he would talk to Cyclonus about it as soon as he could, but that was a problem for later.

Like my work? Buy me a coffee and earn preview of the next fic, or commission me on the commissions page.

#whirl #whirl x reader #whirl x fem-reader #idw #tf #transformers #maccadam #the lost light #ll #ultra magnus #commission #reader #reader insert #fanfiction #fanfic #mtmte #more than meets the eye #my human

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timbourinedrakejr · 4 years ago

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Missing you

My secret Santa recipient was @moonlightstar64 !!! I saw you liked Mari being the bio!sibling of one of the Batfam, so I got a bit carried away with this big brother Jason fic, I hope you enjoy it!!! (Part 2 of the gift is here)

@maribat-secret-santa-2020

Jason tapped his foot impatiently on the floor, and gave another over dramatic sigh, which gained multiple glares from his siblings. They were meant to be visiting the Marché de Noël at Notre Dame to do a bit of christmas shopping and get food, and he was starving.

But for some god forsaken reason his brothers were taking ages to get ready, and he was sick of waiting for them. He opened his mouth to give another complaint when Alfred cut him off, sending him a stern glare.

“If you cannot wait any longer Master Jason, I suggest you go on ahead and get something to eat and stop fussing. We will be along shortly.” It didn’t take much else for Jason to get the message, Alfred had had enough of his impatience and wanted him out.

With one short glare at the rest of his (incredibly slow) family, Jason turned and left the hotel, determined to make the walk to the market as quick as possible. It had just begun snowing again, and the sunlight was quickly disappearing, giving the streets of Paris a magical feel.

He would never admit it straight up, but he was actually enjoying the forced family vacation, even if his family infuriated him sometimes. It was the first year he’d ever actually accepted the invitation to join them, and despite all his worries, it’d been going surprisingly well.

The tradition to have a Christmas vacation had started a few years ago, when Alfred had decided that he’d had enough of missed Christmas dinners and that the whole family deserved to enjoy a holiday. Alfred had determined that the best way to fully remove the temptations of working over Christmas, would simply be to forcibly take Bruce out of Gotham altogether. Of course Bruce put up a fuss, and so did the rest of their workaholic family, but there was no fighting Alfred sometimes.

It didn’t stop most of them from bringing cases to work on, but it still gave them all a much needed break, as well as a whole lot of unspoilt ‘family bonding time’. Every year the location of the holiday changed, and this year Paris was decided on. As he walked along the streets, admiring how the strings of christmas lights glistened off the snow, he was glad he’d agreed to come this year.

He really was hungry though, and despite being so close to the market, he couldn’t wait to eat any longer. He spotted a small sign up ahead for a boulangerie patisserie, and the delicious smells and warm glow coming from inside, were enough to tempt Jason in.

As soon as he stepped in, his eyes darted straight to the display case, so distracted by his hunger that he almost didn’t notice how the shop assistance’s greeting abruptly cut off with a gasp.

Jason looked up to see what had caused their reaction, only to stop short himself, as his eyes landed on a girl with two familiar pigtails, who’s watering blue eyes were currently locked on him in shock.

“Jason?”

Marinette had never thought she would see Jason again. Not since she was 11 and saw the headline that had torn her heart in two, the one that had crushed all her hopes of one day being reunited with her brother.

When she was younger, freshly adopted and living in her new home in Paris, he was all she would ever talk about. Her parents would listen with a fond grin as she babbled on in broken french about how cool Jason was, and how much he would love it here, especially the food.

They had been separated after their mother had died, sent to different care homes despite all their protests. When her new parents had discovered that she had a brother, they had tried looking for him, only to find out Jason had run away a few weeks prior. Marinette had been heartbroken, but she knew deep down that Jason was looking for her, and one day they would see each other again.

Marinette had been a logical kid though, so she understood that the chance of Jason finding her in France, was extremely low. At best, Jason would be found and adopted by loving parents who would help him find her (which, knowing Gotham, was very unlikely), and at worst, he would have to wait until he was eighteen to look for her himself. She never even considered the possibility that he wouldn’t make it to eighteen.

Jason was a survivor. He was brave, kind, and always always looked out for her. Her mother had tried her best to take care of them both, Marinette knew that, but most of the time it was Jason looking after both of them. Jason had told her that she’d been the best Mom, before she got ill, and before their dad had made it worse, but Marinette was too young to remember the before.

All Marinette could remember was Jason. Jason was the one who cooked most nights, the one who made sure she was in bed on time, the one who got her ready for school each morning. He’d always try and protect her when their dad was in one of his moods, and always patched her up afterwards, no matter how much worse off he was.

No matter how bad some of her memories of Gotham were, Marinette didn’t want to forget Jason. So she did whatever she could to remember him. She told all her new friends about him, and insisted that her parents learnt how to make all his favourite foods.

She even kept her hair in the exact same style that Jason had always put it in. She’d used to complain that all the other girls had their hair in pretty styles, whilst hers was always boring and let down, so Jason had learnt how to do her hair. Granted, the only style he could do neatly were pigtails, but it was still better than nothing.

Every morning they would sit down, and Jason would brush her hair, making up grand tales for her whilst she sat quietly in awe. Those mornings were some of Marinette’s most cherished memories, so to make sure she never forgot, she got her Maman to teach her how to do them herself.

She wore them everyday, without fail, and would proudly tell anyone who commented on them, that it was for her brother. Marinette secretly hoped that it would also help Jason to recognise her when they were finally reunited.

It was also a habit for Marinette to watch the Gotham news every day. She still missed her old home despite how dangerous and corrupt it was, and watching it was a comfort, a way to keep in touch with her roots.

It was also how she found out that the adopted son of Bruce Wayne was killed in an explosion. She’d only been half paying attention, working on her homework whilst she waited for her parents to cook dinner, when she suddenly heard her brother’s name mentioned.

Her world had stopped as a picture of her brother, looking healthy and older in the arms of Bruce Wayne, was displayed on screen, with the newsreader calmly announcing his tragic death alongside it.

Marinette had been inconsolable for weeks, no amount of reassurance from her parents able to stop her tears. She spent days going through news articles, reading anything that mentioned her brother, saving every photo she could.

It hurt knowing that if she’d just paid more attention to Gotham, searched for her brother properly rather than just sit by and wait, she could’ve found him. Could’ve talked to him, let him meet her new family, meet his new family.

But now none of that was possible. Because he was dead and nothing could change that.

Marinette stopped watching Gothams news after that. She stopped talking about him because it hurt too much. She didn’t even tell Tikki at first, only telling her after she noticed the picture of him pinned to the wall next to her bed.

But despite how much the memories hurt now, Marinette still clung to them. The memories were the only things she had left of him, and even though it hurt too much to talk about, she didn’t want to pretend he didn’t ever exist.

So, even though she got teased for it being too childish, and even though it still stung to remember, she kept her hair in pigtails. A small reminder to herself to never forget, and to hold the good memories close.

Life had moved on, and even though Marinette still missed her brother, the pain wasn’t so raw anymore, feeling more like a dull ache rather than a bleeding wound. Still, Marinette always felt worse around the holidays, and liked to keep busy rather than dwell on the thought that Jason should be here, enjoying life, too.

The bakery was always hectic around the holidays, and gave Marinette the perfect excuse to busy herself and help out, often manning the till to give her parents a break.

It had been a miraculously quiet afternoon, which Marinette attributed to the local market, and she’d been doodling on a napkin when the bell chimed, indicating a customer. She’d straightened quickly, automatically greeting the customer, before she looked up and immediately froze.

Because standing in front of her, was what should’ve been a dead man. He looked older, as if he’d actually aged the last five years. She could see scars that weren’t there before, and his hair looked different, a streak of white in the front, but no matter all the changes, she was certain that was him.

That was Jason.

“Jay?”

She barely registered that she’d spoken, and her suspicions were confirmed when the man looked up in wide eyed shock. The tears that were forming in her eyes began to overflow as he replied, the Gotham accent as strong as ever.

“Nette?”

That was all it took for Marinette’s restraint to break, and she practically jumped the counter in her rush to get to him, to prove to herself that he was really there, and not just some akuma trick. But an akuma wouldn’t show her Jason all grown up, and he wouldn’t just be standing there looking like he was the one who’d just seen a ghost.

As soon as she was close enough, she threw herself at him, and clung on to him for dear life. Only a moment later she felt strong arms return the embrace, just as hard. She felt a million different emotions all buzzing through her head at once, but the clearest feeling of all was the pure relief.

She didn’t know how or why he was back and apparently alive, but at this moment, she did not care. Her brother was back, and he was here, and she was never gonna let him go.

“Never do that again,” she managed to choke out, her words muffled by how her face was pressed into Jason’s chest. “I don’t want to lose you ever again.”

Jason’s own words were almost just as tearful when he replied, pulling her closer as he did.

“I promise. I’ll never leave again.”

#maribat #maribat secret santa #dc x mlb #miraculous x dc #mlb x dc #platonic jasonette #my art #my fic

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brockadoodles · 4 years ago

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Heartbreak and a New Tattoo - w. nylander

AN: Uhhhhhhhh. Definitely didn’t intend on posting a fic tonight but, cranked this out. It started off as meaning to be fluffy and cute but uh, my angsty cold heart said no? I’m trying to be better about writing shorter stuff, so let me know what you think! I’m gonna tag @broadstbroskis and @jasondickinsonss since they’re my resident willy pals.

Word Count: 2653

Warnings: Angst, happy ending though.

No one warned you that you would lose a piece of yourself when you fell in love. They didn’t caution you about how for every good moment, the ones that make your head spin and your heart race, there would be a chip of your own sense of person falling away. They didn’t tell you that after four years with someone, you slip into their habits, nestling tightly into their life. So much so that you aren’t even sure what direction you’re facing, because everything around you was built by him. It wasn’t that William did anything wrong. In fact, he did everything a partner should. His life was logistically a chaotic nightmare, each step felt like he was balancing on a rope, trying to get to the other side. But he was good at it, he always prioritized you, even when it was hard. The only problem was that he didn’t know the very rope he was stuck on was fraying.

It had started small, the cracks between you. The calls during road trips became shorter, less engaged. By the time either of you realized what was happening, it was just two people who once aligned into one breathing on a deadline out of obligation because it felt like that was what you were supposed to do. By the time you realized that the person you thought you were, wasn’t anyone recognizable without William by your side, you irresponsibly thought that it was time to let go. So, you let go of the visions of marriage and a family, of the house you dreamed of building together once things settled down, of the thoughts of the holidays spent together, each one more special than the last. You let it all go, taking a seam ripper to the last bits of thread connecting your souls. You couldn’t decide what hurt worse, the demise of what you thought was forever, or the fact that William didn’t put up a fight as you packed your things and left.

William didn’t know what hit him when you muttered that you were leaving. He was so sure it had to be a mistake, that there had to be some piece of information missing that would fix everything. He felt his chest caving in, the weight of you packing your bags codifying a new language into his head, one that didn’t include you. He spent weeks circling through the last few months before you ended it. Writing down and analyzing every fight, every night spent without talking to each other when he was gone, trying to piece together what moment made you leave. What he could have done to save the very thing that was destined to fall apart no matter how much super glue he tried to stick to it. You needed to find yourself again, and no matter how badly he longed to help you, he needed to let you go.

When William came back into Toronto in September, he was incessantly telling himself that he was doing better, that the fresh season would throw him back into a familiar enough routine that he could finally adjust to life without you. But familiarity breeds nostalgia, and nostalgia controlled the heartbreak he had spent the last few months trying to let go of. It wasn’t until he was back in the apartment that you shared that the resentment stage of his grief had tucked into his heart.

The resentment was the worst part of the breakup. Because he didn’t want to resent anything about you. He had gotten four years to love you as best as he could, and he didn’t want to replace all of the memories of love with a feeling of regret. He didn’t regret loving you, even if it ended the way that it had. He didn’t regret thinking he was going to marry you, and when he finally moved on from the resentment stage of grief, he realized that sometimes you can put your all into someone and they simply might not be able to give you all of it back. He was slowly starting to thread the foundation of a new rope, he was starting to move on. But when he saw you standing there in your dark blue dress, your hair a bit shorter than the last time he had seen you, talking to Steph, he dropped the newly constructed rope off the ledge.

You on the other hand were spending your summer trying to piece together the remaining fragments of your own being, the person who you were before you met William. You were doing okay, as okay as someone could be when they had just ended a four-year relationship with the person that they assumed would be the one. You spent months lying to yourself about being okay. You spent months trying to convince yourself that you didn’t make a mistake, that you didn’t leave because you couldn’t handle being honest with him about how you were feeling.

It was October and you knew he was back in the city. Hockey had started which meant that his presence was now one you actively had to avoid. You took the long way into the city and back home most days, actively avoiding the arena, knowing that being there would be too much. This half-hearted way of living in the city you called home was manageable, until December when you finally had the courage to unpack the remaining boxes from the home you shared together.

You were going through a notebook when it fell out, Mitch and Steph’s wedding invitation from over a year ago now. You picked up the card, eyes welling with the tears you had shoved down for the last six months as you remembered that weekend. The weekend you realized Will was your person.

“I can’t believe you and Mitch are finally getting married.” You hummed to Steph as you slid off your heels and collapsed onto the hotel bed. You had always admired Mitch and Steph, their relationship was one that was the definition of two people who fit together seamlessly, and made the choice to make it work between them. It wasn’t a fairytale or a whirlwind, it was real and raw and you couldn’t be happier as you laid in that hotel bed, dress and makeup still on, half-drunk from the overpriced cocktails that the boys kept flowing after they crashed the bachelorette party, that two of your closest friends were getting married in just two days.

“God, I know. Is it weird I’m not nervous about it at all?” Steph called from around the corner. You stood up, your feet slightly throbbing from being in heels all night and your mind feeling a bit fuzzy from the drinks as you rounded the corner and saw her taking off her makeup in the mirror.

“No, you and Mitch are just right, ya know? It works.” You looked at her hand, eyes shifting to the diamond sitting perfectly on her ring finger, sparkly and bright and perfect for her. You grabbed your phone from the counter where you had left it earlier in the evening, not wanting to bring it out with you while you and the girls celebrated with Steph. You looked at the home screen, a small notification catching your eye as you unlocked the phone and hit play on the voicemail. Steph grabbed the phone from your hand, a knowing smile on her face as she turned the volume on the speaker up, William’s voice filling the small hallway before you had the chance to stop it.

“Hey baby, you’re probably back in the room by now. I just wanted to say that you looked amazing tonight, and I know we can’t be together tonight because of the traditions and all that, but I love you and will be thinking of you.”

Steph handed you the phone back, a stupid smirk evident on her face that you were pretending to ignore. You went back toward your suitcase, sliding the dress off of your body and throwing on one of Willy’s old sweatshirts and a pair of shorts. You sat on the bed, fingers hovering over your phone as you thought of a message to type back to your boyfriend, a smile lingering on your cheeks from his message.

“You know what he said to me the night he met you? Granted, he was shitfaced, but I still think it’s relevant.” Steph smirked as she came around the corner, crawling onto the other side of the bed and turning to face you. You rolled your eyes at her and set your phone down, ignoring her slightly as she started speaking again,

“He told me ‘I’m gonna marry her one day Stephanie, just wait.’”

You let yourself cry over that memory, and for the first time since the breakup, you realized that you were worse off without him, that you had ended something entirely too good for reasons you didn’t understand. You picked up the phone to call more times than you could count, only to set it back down again, torturing yourself with the idea that you had made your decision, and you needed to lay with it.

You were in such a daze when he walked up to you, nerves settling into your stomach at the sight of him. He didn’t look like your Willy anymore, he looked like a hollow version of the man you still were hopelessly in love with, the one that you ultimately played the biggest hand in breaking. You followed him without a word when he asked you if you could talk because the truth was that you would follow William anywhere if it meant that maybe you could get a piece of him back.

It was awkward for a few moments, both of you riddled with nerves, wondering who was going to dare to break first and say what they were truly thinking about. It was agonizing, being so close to him for the first time in such a long time, and it only made your own doubts about leaving him to come back to your chest in full force. William grabbed your hand quickly, threading his fingers through yours before finally speaking, being the first one to crack the eggshells that you were both walking on.

“Do you sleep well without me? Because I don’t. I don’t think I’ve slept since June when you left.” He said, head hanging down as if the words he was speaking were in some way shameful. Your heart wanted to break for him because you had been in the same situation for so long, nights feeling long and empty without him there. But part of you was almost feeling some weird sense of satisfaction at knowing he was hurting just as badly as you. You weren’t surprised he dove right in, head first. It was what he always did. He had known you for so long, there wasn’t a point in dancing around saying he missed you now that he had the chance to tell you so, he had already been doing enough to push it away on his own. He didn’t want to keep pushing something that he was starting to realize wasn’t meant to go away.

“No, willy. I haven’t slept well since we broke up.” You shook your head, opting to tell the truth because up until this point, lying to pretend you were fine had only left you empty, with a broken heart that you didn’t know how to heal.

“I stayed up until 6 am just because at least then if I called you might be awake. I felt like I was watching myself just get worse and worse, and all I wanted was you. I’m not supposed to want you anymore, William.”

“I would have answered, I would always answer.”

“It’s not the same, you know it’s not.” William sighed softly at your words as he let them run in tedious circles through his head. He had spent the better part of the last six months missing you and replaying the events from the summer wondering if you were both wrong for what had happened. Your love story had been like a journey by train, exciting when you’re young and tiring when you get older. It was great until one of you, who could even remember who at this point, had gotten off during a stop and the other one continued on the journey alone and by the time you both reached the final destination, the two different trips couldn’t merge into one anymore. But the problem was that maybe the final destination was all wrong, maybe you were supposed to get off the train because now you could come back together and start a different trip together, one that isn’t tiring when you’re older.

He looked over at you quickly and let his eyes linger on the features of your face, the ones he used to have memorized hidden by the obvious toll the breakup had taken on you, too. He couldn’t help but think about how if he were to take one look in a mirror that he had been avoiding for the past six months, he probably wouldn’t recognize himself either.

“I tried to call you,” he started, voice tentative and unsure as you turned to look at him. Your eyes were blurry, and your mind nearly blacked out at the five words he just spoke. Five words that maybe could change everything, or perhaps they would have if you had seen the call in the first place. You tilted your head softly as William ran his hand through his hair.

“But, your voicemail was full.” You looked away from him, the pain in your chest creeping back in as you took in his second set of five words. Your voicemail, the one that had been filled with messages from him, from times where you were happy, and from drunken nights after the breakup where he sometimes would call and all you would hear on the other end was silence.

“I couldn’t bring myself to delete them, I just wanted a place where I would be able to hear your voice and have it be just for me,” you smiled sadly, letting the tears blur your vision as you stood up. You didn’t know what to do, this all felt suffocating and overwhelming and yet definitive at the same time. This was it, you were either getting William back, or you were letting him go forever. The choice should have been a simple one and yet it was almost more complicated than the initial choice to breakup had been because at least when you did that, you both thought it was what you wanted. Now you were presented with either putting your heart out in the open, tossing it carefully to the person you had known for so long and putting your trust in him to catch it, or you were running the risk of him dropping it and leaving you crumbled on the floor as you tried to pick up the remnants of whatever would be left after a fumble that big.

“I spent Christmas without you, please don’t make me spend New Years without you, too.”

“I don’t want to spend any day without you again.” You whispered, resting your hand on his cheek. William smiled at you and pulled you close into his chest. He tilted your head up and connected his lips to yours, something that you both had spent the last six months missing. You settled into him, feeling your fears melt with each moment that passed. The breakup had left heartache in both of you, but it was necessary to put your real love into permanent ink on both of your chests. A new start, one without heartbreak and with a new tattoo.

#william nylander #william nylander imagine #william nylander fic #william nylander x reader #nhl imagine #nhl fic

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imkylotrash · 4 years ago

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Stubborn Love

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x reader

Request: I’m wondering if you good do one where Y/N is the twin sister of Pansy Parkinson, and Y/N and Draco have been in a secret relationship and Pansy finds out because she likes Draco and it causes some tension between the sisters.

A/N I wrote in the update for this week that this was a crossover with Winx but it’s just HP, I read the request wrong 😅

Tagging: @bitchwhytho @music-of-melody @shadowhuntyi

You don’t mean for it to happen. You know your sister likes him and you have every intention of staying far away from the blonde boy for that exact reason. But the universe has other plans. Every class is with him, you run into him during all free periods. At one point, you hide in the girl’s bathroom just to stay away from him. You don’t want to admit it but his smile makes you feel things you shouldn’t. The only time you find peace is evenings in the Hufflepuff common room.

“I heard a rumour,” Cedric says dropping down next to you. He slams his potions book on the table along with his half-written paper on top of it. You keep quiet waiting for him to elaborate.

“I heard Draco Malfoy likes you,” he then says just as you’re reaching for your water bottle. You knock it to the ground from pure shock spilling the content all over the floor.

“Shit,” you mumble getting down on the floor to clean up when Cedric stops you. He waves his wand in front of you before magically drying off the carpet.

“Are you okay?” he asks you and you’re not sure how to tell him that you have a thing for the one boy your sister asked you to stay away from but somehow, you manage to anyway. He doesn’t get it. Cedric hates Draco but he respects your feelings.

“You can’t make yourself unhappy because you don’t want to hurt your sister. I’m sure she’ll understand.” You make sound that sounds like something between laughing and choking.

“Have you met my twin sister? There’s a reason she’s in Slytherin and I’m in Hufflepuff,” you say thinking of all the hexes she’ll use on you when she finds out you have a thing for Draco.

“I’m sure she’d be happy for you as long as you’re honest with her.” And you know he’s right, it’s just you’re not ready to tell her. You don’t want to tell her in case nothing happens between you and Draco. But two months pass and suddenly, you’re in too deep. It’s gone from discretely looking in his direction to kissing him in empty classrooms and by the quidditch field when no one is around. You want to tell Pansy because she keeps flirting with him only to be rejected and you feel horrible for knowing exactly why he’ll never return her emotions.

“We have to tell her,” you say one day as you and Draco are walking the grounds. You’re far enough away from the school to be brave enough to hold hands but you still worry someone might see you.

“I don’t want to hide anymore. I want to be with you and I want my sister to be happy for us.” You know it’s much to hope for but you can’t keep hiding your feelings. You deserve better than that and so does Draco.

“I’ll do whatever you want. I don’t really care as long as I get to be with you.” He’s cute - far too cute for how you’ve always been told Slytherins are. You’d worried about Pansy when the sorting hat said she belonged in Slytherin but you had to admit that they weren’t all bad.

“So, you’d be fine lying your entire life if it meant we could stay together?” you say jokingly but he just shrugs his shoulders not seeing the joke.

“If that’s what it took. I don’t think of it as lying if all we’re doing is keeping it private.” You don’t know anyone like him who’s able to spin the truth however he wants it. You, on the other hand, feel horrible as soon as you think about lying. You once told a teacher that you couldn’t hand in your homework because a gnome from the garden had stolen it and you went to the bathroom and cried for half an hour. You hated lying and it made it so much worse that you had to lie to your sister, no matter how Draco spun it.

“I want to tell her. Before someone else does.” And so, you agree to meet that night and tell her together but you wish you would’ve done it alone.

“You’re dating Draco?” Her voice goes an octave higher for each syllable which would be pretty impressive in any other setting. Now, it just freaks you out.

“We didn’t mean for this to happen, I promise. I tried to stay away but I couldn’t just ignore how I felt,” you say trying to reason with her but it’s no use.

“I’m sure you tried real hard, you bitch.” You very rarely fight with your twin sister. You can count on one hand the amount of times you’ve ever raised your voice at each other and it’s always been because you did everything you could to make her happy. She turned into the most horrible person when she was upset, you hardly recognised her.

“Don’t talk to her like that,” Draco says. It’s the first thing he’s said since you sat down. He gives your hand a gentle squeeze to comfort you - an action that doesn’t go unnoticed by Pansy.

“I’ll talk to my sister exactly how I want to talk to her,” she scuffs before returning her attention to you.

“I’ll never forgive you if you don’t break up with him right now. He’s meant to be with me.”

“Doesn’t he get a say in this?” you ask weakly. You don’t want to break up with Draco, but you also know she’s deadly serious when she says she’ll never forgive you. You’ve seen her hold onto grudges for years at a time.

“Well, you ruined any chance for me when you decided to claim him, didn’t you?” You know Draco is getting angrier by the second and it’s only a matter of time before he cracks and takes it all out on Pansy.

“I didn’t claim him, Pans. He made a choice, and I’m really sorry but I thought you’d be happy for me.” You stand up painfully slow hoping she’ll stop you but she doesn’t. In fact, she doesn’t talk to you for the rest of the year. When Christmas comes around, you invite Draco to spend the holidays with you and your family. You don’t tell him but you have a tiny hope that maybe if Pansy sees you and Draco together, she’ll realise just how much he means to you. You had no choice in loving Draco. Stubbornly and violently, it had filled your heart and mind until you had no choice but to act on it.

“You invited him?” Pansy asks noticing his suitcase. It’s the first words she’s spoken to you since you told her about you and Draco and they drip with venom.

“I thought it’d be nice to spend some time together all of us.” It’s the worst Christmas ever. Constantly, your mother has to stop Pansy from ripping into you and once you catch her trying to hex you but she misses you with mere inches. Your hands shake from anger but it’s not in you to yell back or try to retaliate. It must be possible to solve this without yelling.

“I really thought it might change her mind to see you and me together,” you admit on the final night before you have to return to Hogwarts. Your parents are downstairs and Pansy has already locked herself in her room. Merry Christmas...

“She’ll come around,” Draco says wrapping his arms around you. When you go to sleep that night, you toss and turn feeling the toll of the fight hitting you. It’s just getting too much. You don’t fall asleep until 2 am and when you wake, Draco is gone. You walk towards the bathroom to brush your teeth when you spot the most peculiar thing. The window in the hallway offers you a perfect view of Draco and Pansy sitting in the grass talking. When they return, Pansy hugs you tightly.

“I’ve been so horrible to you. Can you forgive me?” You’re speechless to say the least. Last night, she looked as if she were ready to bury the knife in your back and now she’s hugging you and asking if you can forgive her.

“Of course I forgive you.” You hug her again locking eyes with Draco who’s watching with a tiny smile. When you finally get him alone, you press to find out what he said to Pansy but he doesn’t budge.

“That’s a conversation between me and her,” he laughs as you pout. Half an hour of begging and still he refuses to talk.

“It’s not fair, I’d tell you. I tell you everything,” you argue.

“That’s because you’re horrible at keeping secrets,” Draco chuckles leaning in to kiss you but you refuse - at least until he tells you what he said to Pansy.

“You can’t reject me like that. Kiss me,” he huffs with furrowed eyebrows and you just can’t help yourself.

“Watch me.”

#HP Fandom #HP Crew #hp fanfiction #hp cast #hp #hp blurb #hp imagine #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy blurb #draco malfoy gif #hp draco malfoy #draco malfoy imagine #Draco Malfoy

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puppywritings · 4 years ago

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you make it feel like christmas - kim doyoung x gender-neutral reader

⇢ synopsis: when you entered your job a few years ago, you found your best friend, doyoung. the two of you were partners-in-crime, platonic soulmates. however, during a drunken phone call with doyoung’s mother, she catches the wrong idea and invites you to spend christmas with their family… as doyoung’s partner. ever the mama’s boy, doyoung doesn’t want to disappoint her. and you? you’re counting down the days until you can stop this lovers pretence and slap your best friend upside the head.

⇢ word count: 5.6k ⇢ trigger warnings: alcohol use resulting in minor memory loss, swearing, slight suggestive references. this piece is suitable for all audiences!

⇢ a/n: this is my piece for @pastelsicheng and @dearyongs‘ a taste of winter collab. quick disclaimer that doyoung’s family in this fic may not represent his real life family situation, however this is a work of fiction and isn’t meant to mirror real life. i don’t know doyoung, nor do i know his mother, and the characters represented in this writing are fictitious versions of them. furthermore, the christmas traditions depicted in this story are mainly based on my own experiences celebrating the holidays in england.

⇢ taglist: @hunjins @ahgase55g7 @mmoondance @notnctu @orange-nimon-cross @yeoshwa @infnteen @neonun-au @luvlala @neo-shitty @yutacrush @ethaeriyeol @fairyinaflowercrown @in-my-neofeelings @dreamieofu

"All I want for Christmas is youuu, baby!"

Doyoung's voice was almost deafening in your ear, which would've been a problem if you were sober. Your voice, too, merrily drunk and far too loud, belted out the holiday tunes. Your best friend's arm was slung around your shoulder, and yours was around his waist. It was like the blind leading the blind, however; neither of you were keeping your balance very well. The two of you staggered together, navigating the city's streets back to his apartment.

The Christmas party that your office held would have been okay without your favourite coworker - you would've had a good time and enjoyed yourself, sure. But with Doyoung's presence, paired with the copious amounts of alcohol, it had been a riot. Even if you had peaked too early and had to depart by 11pm.

Doyoung was, undoubtedly, the best part about your job. The workload wasn't overwhelming, nor was it tedious, and the salary was nothing to sneeze at. But, without a shadow of a doubt, the best thing your job had ever provided you with was the opportunity to meet your best friend. Doyoung was your platonic soulmate, and your favourite person.

"Hey," Doyoung slurred, calling out to you suddenly. "Is that your ringtone?"

Squinting, you listened closely. "No, Doie," you hiccupped. "I think that's your ringtone."

"Oh, shit,'' Doyoung mumbled, diving into his coat pocket to retrieve his ringing phone. "My mom! She's facetiming."

Your vision was blurred, but you very vaguely saw Doyoung answer the call, bringing up his mother's image on his phone screen. Though you’d been best friends with Doyoung for a few years, you’d never met her. Doyoung lived and worked alongside you in the city, but his mother lived a while away in the countryside, and so your paths had never crossed.

"Hi Mom," Doyoung waved at her.

"Doyoung? Where are you?"

"I'm walking home, Mom," he responded, beaming at her through his phone.

"You sent me a strange text message," she told him, her voice raised a little more than necessary - Doyoung had mentioned that she was somewhat inept when it came to technology.

"Huh?" Doyoung looked confused.

"Something about lunch the day after tomorrow," she elaborated. "Doyoung, you aren't coming home for the holidays until next week, right?"

"Ah," Doyoung said, understanding. "That was meant for somebody else, sorry Mom."

"My boy," you heard her tut, and you laughed. "Is someone there with you, Doyoung?"

"Yeah," Doyoung nodded, "Y/N is here."

"Hi, Mrs Kim," you waved, as Doyoung turned the screen towards you. If you weren't so drunk, you would've been nervous about meeting your best friend's mother for the first time. Fortunately (or unfortunately, depending on how you looked at it) your bloodstream was mainly rum at that point, so you had absolutely no worries nor qualms.

“Kim Doyoung! Why didn’t you tell me you had a partner?” his mother blurted out.

“Huh?” exclaimed Doyoung, utterly confused.

“Oh Doyoung, you must bring Y/N home for the holidays! I can’t wait to meet them,” she cooed.

“Mom, wait-”

“See you two next week!” she cheerily said her goodbyes before hanging up, disappearing from the screen and leaving the two of you in silence.

Doyoung looked at you. You looked back at him.

“Did she…” you began, not quite wanting to end your sentence.

Doyoung nodded gravely. “She thinks we’re dating.”

The look on Doyoung’s face - eyes wide, lips in a straight, serious line - it was too much for you. You snorted, gripping his arm as you buckled in laughter. He wasn’t far behind you, bursting into a fit of giggles too. You and Doyoung loved each other, that was indisputable. But it was completely and entirely platonic. The two of you laughed together the rest of the way home.

As you were coming to your senses the next morning, you groaned. Why the hell did you feel so lousy? you wondered, full to the brim with self-pity. Your head pounded, a throbbing ache so strong you were certain somebody was banging pots and pans in your brain. Your throat was so, so dry, and you felt as though you could drink a whole gallon of water and still be thirsty afterwards. And then the memories of the previous night came flooding in.

Ah, you thought, Now it all makes sense.

You sorted through the events of last night, mentally flicking through the filing cabinet of your memories. A filing cabinet that was sorely empty when it came to the night prior. You remembered arriving at the party with Doyoung; you remembered the first few drinks, but following that your memories began to fade. You remembered Doyoung pressing a sloppy kiss to your boss’ cheek - a rather stoic middle-aged man - and you had no doubt that Doyoung would be apologising profusely on Monday morning. You had absolutely no recollection of the walk home, but since you had awoken in Doyoung’s spare bedroom, you supposed the night could have gone worse. At least you made it home safe.

Begrudgingly, you threw back the blankets and lifted yourself out of bed. Doyoung - bless his heart - had left you some painkillers and a glass of water on the bedside table. You consumed both of them gratefully and emerged from the spare room, wincing at the sunlight that met you. As you made your way down the hallway, whistling met your ears. How Doyoung could be so lively after a night of heavy drinking, you had no idea.

“Why the hell do you never get hungover?” you grumbled at him as you entered the kitchen, finding him at the stove.

“Good morning to you, too, sleeping beauty,” he greeted you with a smile.

“Seriously,” you continued as you took a seat at the kitchen island, “I swear I get hungover enough for the both of us.”

“Thank you for taking on that burden,” Doyoung replied sweetly, which you responded to with a spiteful glower. It doesn’t last long, however; Doyoung finishes cooking breakfast, and dishes you up a serving. Sausages, bacon, scrambled eggs, baked beans, hash browns, and toast. As much as you playfully bickered with Doyoung, he was an absolute treasure.

“Doie, you’re a gift from the heavens,” you praise him, the sight of the warm, greasy food reviving your soul almost immediately.

Doyoung took a seat next to you, placing down a plate of his own breakfast. “So,” he began, “How much of last night do you remember?”

“Huh?” you asked, suddenly wondering if you’d forgotten something drastic. “Did we…”

“Oh my god, no,” Doyoung denied quickly.

“Thank fuck,” you sigh in relief. Your best friend was attractive, definitely. But you saw him as more of a sibling than a lover.

Doyoung waited a moment before explaining, and with each second that passed, your suspicions rose. “My mom… She’s invited you to spend the holidays with us.”

“Oh!” you exclaim. That confession was a lot tamer than what you’d expected. “Sure, that sounds great. I was spending the holidays alone this year anyways.”

“There’s a catch.”

You dropped your knife and fork onto your plate. “Doyoung,” you groan, “Why is there always a catch?”

“My mom thinks we’re dating.” Doyoung pointedly avoided your eye contact while he spoke.

“And you corrected her, right?” you asked, fearing the worst. Doyoung’s silence only confirmed your fears. “Right?”

“She was so happy when she thought I was dating someone! And she’s been on my back about settling down forever,” Doyoung rambled, trying to save himself from your wrath - to no avail.

“Doyoung!”

“Please, Y/N. It’ll only be for a few days,” he pleaded, clasping his hands together and giving you his very best puppy-dog eyes. And you had to admit, they were some top-notch puppy-dog eyes.

You gave a resigned sigh, and Doyoung cheered. “Fine. But only because I really want to try your mom’s cookies.”

“You’re the best friend in the world,” Doyoung complimented you, wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug. You whined at him, fighting the urge to bat away his affections; in your hungover state, you were not at all ready for hugs.

“Then make me some more hash browns,” you grumbled. If Doyoung was prepared to put you in this situation, he’d better also be prepared to pay you for it.

“You got it, best friend,” Doyoung beamed at you, getting up to obey your command. “You should pack those Christmas pyjamas you’re wearing, by the way. My mom would love them.” You scowled at him. He immediately backed down, waving away his previous statement. “We can figure out the logistics later.”

“You better make this worth my while, Kim Doyoung.” When he served you your hash browns, you were still scowling.

As the taxi pulled up at Doyoung’s childhood home, you couldn’t help but marvel at it. You raised a hand to the cab’s window, looking out at the idyllic cottage, rooftop covered in snow, decked out in twinkling Christmas lights. The environment had grown increasingly more peaceful as you had travelled out of Seoul and deeper into the countryside, picturesque hills and winding valleys rolling past the train windows. This place felt worlds away from the hustle and bustle of the city, and it was difficult to feel even slightly stressed. Even if the situation your best friend had put you in was less than ideal, this was an absolutely beautiful place to spend the holidays - it looked like it had jumped straight out of a Christmas card.

Despite the beautiful winter wonderland before you, you still weren’t prepared for the cold that hit you when you stepped out of the cab. You busied yourself getting the luggage from the trunk while Doyoung paid the driver.

“Are you ready?” Doyoung asked you, looking into your eyes sincerely.

You sighed. “Ready as I’ll ever be.” You gave him a smile, reassuring him. The truth was, you were truly excited to spend the holidays with Doyoung and his mother; you were excited to meet her, to eat her home cooking, to hear stories about Doyoung in his youth. You just had some qualms about the whole fake relationship pretense, and you really didn’t want to let your best friend down.

“Y/N?” Doyoung spoke, taking bags out of your hands.

“Yeah?” you asked, watching wistfully as the taxi drove away.

Doyoung smirked at you. “Just try your best not to fall in love with me for real, okay?”

You rolled your eyes so hard they practically fell out of your head. “You wish.” Just as the cottage door swung open, you reached for Doyoung’s hand, holding it tightly. So began the relationship charade.

“Doyoung, my boy,” his mother beamed, coming out to greet her son. It was hard not to smile upon seeing her - she was clearly over the moon to see you and Doyoung, and her joy was infectious. She was a small woman, but you had gathered from Doyoung’s description that she certainly had a big character. She welcomed her son into an embrace, kissing his cheek. “You don’t visit home enough, Doyoung,” she chided lovingly.

“And you must be Y/N,” she spoke, moving her gaze onto you. She looked at you fondly, and you beamed back at her. “You’re so beautiful,” she praised you.

Your cheeks, already red from the cold, blazed a little brighter. “Thank you, Mrs Kim.”

She wagged a finger at you. “Mrs Kim, you make me sound so aged. Please, call me Mom.” She turned around, welcoming the two of you inside, and you shared a smile with Doyoung.

The interior of the cottage was every bit as charming as the exterior. Family photos decorated the walls, and warm rugs hugged the floors. You supposed the home would have a cozy feeling all year round, but now, in the festive season, the place was dressed up to the nines. Lavish paper chains were strung up, along with twinkling lights and boughs of holly. Not to mention the Christmas tree; though not huge it was still sizeable, likely the biggest Mrs Kim could fit through the cottage door. It was embellished with golden tinsel and crimson baubles.

“Your home is so beautiful,” you commended. “Did you decorate yourself?”

“All by myself,” Doyoung’s mother confirmed proudly.

“This must’ve been a beautiful place to grow up,” you marvelled, your comment pointed towards Doyoung, who smiled back at you appreciatively.

“Oh, the stories I have about Doyoung growing up,” Mrs Kim said, and you detected a mischievous tone.

“I can’t wait to hear them,” you grinned.

“And see them!” she added. “I have so many photo albums.”

Doyoung groaned, while you and Mrs Kim laughed in the presence of his misery. Yes, you decided. You were going to enjoy this visit very much.

When you settled into bed that night, you were beyond exhausted. Doyoung’s mother had kindly set you up in the spare room, which was delightfully warm and snug. Doyoung’s childhood bedroom contained only a single bed, whereas the spare room had a double bed to accommodate you - the ‘couple.’ Though it had only been a few hours since you’d arrived that afternoon, the gravity of your situation had well and truly sunk in. The performative affection you and Doyoung had been carrying out was alien, equal parts strange and comical.

“I can’t believe the amount of times you called me Honey today,” Doyoung scoffed amusedly, dressed in his blue flannel pyjamas with his dark hair laying flat and fluffy on his forehead. He turned off the big light to leave the room illuminated by the warm glow of the table lamps, before climbing into bed beside you.

“Mock me all you want, Doyoung, but I think I put on a pretty convincing performance,” you return smugly.

“Well, I can’t imagine it’s hard. I’m very easy to love. You on the other hand?” Doyoung faked a weary sigh. “I have my work cut out for me.” You flicked Doyoung on the forehead, snickering when he yelped.

You yawned, depositing your phone on the bedside table and snuggling down into the blankets. Though you were exhausted, and the cottage was immensely cozy, it always felt a little strange to fall asleep in a new place. You were thankful for the company of your best friend, who always put you at ease.

“I hate sharing a bed with you,” you grumbled your complaint. Despite the comfort he brought you, he wasn’t the easiest person to sleep with. “You starfish. I always wake up with, like, one centimetre of bed space.”

Doyoung dropped his phone, letting it fall onto the blankets. He looked at you, eyebrows raised. “One centimetre?”

“Yeah, one centimetre!” you insisted.

“Well, I always wake up with your cold feet on my legs,” he rebutted.

“Yeah, well-” you sputtered. “It’s not my fault you’re a living hot water bottle!”

“And it’s not my fault you’re always cold. Yet I’m always punished with your horrible cold feet.” You laughed back at him; the normality of your bickering helped to put you at ease.

“Let’s get some rest,” you suggested, yawning again. “I don’t wanna miss your mom’s cookies tomorrow morning - I wanna try them while they’re warm.”

“Mmm, good idea,” Doyoung agreed, eyes wide with the thought of his mother’s cookies.

“Goodnight, butthead,” you teased your friend, turning off the lamp beside you.

“Sleep well, idiot,” he replied fondly.

Thoughts of warm chocolate-chip cookies were the last things on your mind before you fell asleep, and you were lucky enough to have them drift through your dreams that night.

As you slowly woke up, gradually returning to the land of the conscious, you first became aware of how delightfully warm you were. A light winter sun was shining through the gaps in the curtains, bathing the room in a soft white light. You sighed, hugging your pillow closer to you, but furrowing your eyebrows in confusion when you found it to be much firmer and less pliant than a pillow.

“Nice to see you’ve finally awakened. You drooled on my pyjamas.” Doyoung’s voice was gentle, and lacked any real annoyance.

“What time is it?” you asked, rolling off the boy.

“Half nine,” he told you, looking at his phone screen. You digested the information as Doyoung got out of bed, stretching his muscles which had stiffened from sleep.

“Now that I’m finally free,” he stared at you pointedly, “I’m gonna take a shower. There’s another bathroom down the hall if you want to wash up.” You nodded, accomplishing your own satisfying stretch in bed.

A while later, fresh and ready for the day, adorned in your favourite comfy sweater, you made your way downstairs, trying to dampen down your high, high hopes for cookies.

“Good morning, Mrs Kim,” you greeted the woman with a smile. A smile that increased tenfold when you saw she was, in fact, in the middle of preparing cookies.

“I already told you to call me Mom, darling,” she chastised gently. “Did you sleep well?”

You gave her a nod, silently thinking about the several times you woke up to Doyoung kicking you through the night.

“Lovely,” she commented. “I’m making cookies, would you like to help?”

“I’d love to,” you answered honestly. “Your cookies are kind of famous back in Seoul. Doyoung never stops talking about them.”

“That boy and his cookies,” she remarked with affection.

Doyoung’s mother set you off to work making another batch of mixture, as she began her duties with the rolling pin. The two of you worked in a comfortable silence, and you marvelled at how much she put you at ease. She was a warm lady, the kind of mother figure a person is lucky to have.

“Y/N, I want you to tell me everything,” she spoke after a while. “How did you and Doyoung meet?”

“Ah,” you mumbled, gearing yourself up to talk about your fake-boyfriend. “Well, we work together. I joined the company about two years ago, and Doyoung was the one to show me the ropes.”

“Was it love at first sight?” Mrs Kim asked you sweetly.

You turned away from the cookie dough, choking a little at the mention of romance with Doyoung, as you remembered the first time you met the man.

You were almost trembling as your new boss showed you around the office; this was your first “grown-up” job and you were the very definition of nervous. You were thankful for your brand-new black blazer which covered the sweat stains that you knew were building.

“And this,” your boss introduced you, “Is Kim Doyoung. He’ll help you settle in.”

“Hi. Y/N Y/L/N,” you offered Doyoung your hand to shake, which he accepted.

Doyoung waited for your boss to leave before speaking. “So,” he began with a smirk, “How hard did he try to be ‘relatable’ and ‘down with the kids?’”

You hid your laugh behind a cough. “He’s a little out of touch, huh?”

“A little?” Doyoung raised an eyebrow, laughing alongside you.

“Is it okay to talk about the boss like this? We’re supposed to respect him, right?” you asked your new coworker, a little uncertainly.

“Ah, Y/N, of course we respect him,” Doyoung tutted at you, before adding, “To his face.”

Doyoung had you in stitches your entire first day. Though he tried not to show it, you hadn’t seen anybody try so hard to help you become comfortable and calm. He had been easing your nerves since day one.

“Yeah,” you confirmed as you recovered. “I think it was.” Maybe it wasn’t love at first sight in a romantic sense, but the two of you definitely connected on a personal level right away.

“So romantic,” Doyoung’s mother cooed as she rolled out the dough. “What do you love most about him?”

“Hm.” You paused, taking a moment to think. It was true that you loved a lot of Doyoung’s qualities - he was your best friend after all. He was always supportive, an ever-present shoulder to cry on. He was funny, and kind, and pleasant to be around. You always had fun together. “I love a lot of things about him,” you answered truthfully.

“He’s wonderful, isn’t he?” she agreed with you jovially, to which you smiled and nodded. “Now, I don’t want to rush you,” she continued, “But will you and Doyoung be giving me grandchildren any time soon?”

You choked on your spit, just as Doyoung entered the kitchen, coming to your rescue.

“Speak of the devil,” his mom noted affectionately, as she loaded the full trays into the oven.

“Cookies?” Doyoung’s eyes glinted hopefully. His hair was still damp from the shower, dripping and leaving wet droplets on his plain white t-shirt.

“Yes, in about fifteen minutes,” she confirmed. “You can wait that long, right?”

“Oh,” Doyoung moaned, “I don’t know. I can feel my life escaping from me as we speak.” He collapsed at the kitchen table behind you, falling onto the chair as he pretended to faint. You chuckled at his antics, reaching over to ruffle his still-wet hair adoringly. You caught his mother looking over at the two of you fondly, and you smiled, a little self-conscious.

It felt more natural than you’d imagined, being cute and cozy with Doyoung in this false relationship. You supposed your friendship was a little more affectionate than you realised. Now that you thought about it, there was a certain tenderness that was common between the two of you - aside from the constant snipping and bickering, that was.

You’d never considered that you could be suited to a life outside the city, but the longer you spent in the charming countryside, the more ideal it felt. On your second morning of your winter break, you and Doyoung had donned your warmest winter gear (hats, scarves, and gloves included) and set out on a walk down the rustic lanes that your best friend had once called home. Though there were no eyes on you, and logically you didn’t have to keep up your fake-dating pretence in these hidden moments, shared only by you and Doyoung, the two of you held hands as you ambled down the snow-covered roads. It was an unspoken act, and one that felt strangely comfortable and oddly natural. You didn’t accredit too much thought to it; best friends could hold hands, if they wished to.

“We’re almost there,” Doyoung told you, after a short time of walking.

You tilted your head in confusion. “Where?” You hadn’t thought you were walking with any specific location in mind - you’d assumed the pair of you were meandering through the countryside with no direction.

“You’ll see,” was all he said, leaving you wondering.

Not long later, Doyoung directed you towards an opening in the shrubbery at the side of the lane, maneuvering himself over a stile before helping you over. The field you found yourself in was empty, the normally green meadow blanketed in completely untouched white. The only thing standing in the field, other than you and Doyoung was an old, rather dilapidated-looking barn. You imagined it once blazed a beautiful scarlet, although the years and the weather had chipped and faded its coat, leaving it a patchy maroon.

“Who does this belong to?” you asked, reclaiming Doyoung’s hand as you approached the barn together.

“I don’t know,” Doyoung countered. “Nobody, I think. It’s been abandoned as long as I can remember.”

“It’s a little creepy,” you commented apprehensively.

“Don’t worry, there aren’t any ghosts,” Doyoung mocked you, although it was devoid of any cruelty.

The door creaked as Doyoung pushed it open, and you didn’t entirely trust it not to fall completely off its hinges. The interior of the barn was a dark contrast to the stark white of the winter wonderland outside, although some sunlight filtered through the gaps in the wooden structure.

“Welcome to my secret clubhouse,” Doyoung introduced you. Your hands fell apart, as Doyoung left your side to venture to the back of the dwelling, finding a rickety swing that hung from the rafters, constructed of two pieces of rope and a plank of wood. He sat on it, swinging lightly and you were surprised to find that it managed to support his weight.

“How many of your romantic conquests have you brought here before me?” you teased, examining his hangout.

“You’re the first.”

The barn wasn’t particularly exciting, but there was a certain buzz to be derived from gaining a little bit of insight to Doyoung’s past. The floors of the building were no longer lined with hay, but dirt and dust, featuring intermittent weeds and plants. A tree had reached its spindly branches inside the structure, intertwining itself with the beams and pillars. You perched yourself atop an old stool that was sitting amid the weeds and rubble.

“Did you put that swing up yourself?” you asked, eyeing its stability.

“Yep,” Doyoung confirmed. “All by myself. I climbed right up into the rafters to fasten it.”

“You’re lucky you didn’t hurt yourself,” you remarked. The barn was a rather significant height, and it can’t have been safe for a young boy to scale the wooden bones of the building, likely aided by the serpentine branches of the oak tree.

“When I was a kid I thought I was superman,” Doyoung said, and you could see him reminiscing internally. You watched, captivated, as he looked around the tattered old barn which was clearly a sentimental place for him. He was beautiful, your best friend. Eyes that shined, dark as the night; a nose that sloped almost perfectly; pink lips that looked best when smiling. Though the winter was a cold one, your heart was warmed by your love for Doyoung. The two of you sat in a comfortable silence, simply existing together without any demand or pressure to make unnecessary conversation.

“We should get back home,” Doyoung spoke after a while, standing and stretching. “My mom is making hotpot for lunch.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” you said with enthusiasm. Spending time with your best friend, taking walks through the beautiful countryside, and being fed homemade dishes for every meal. This Christmas holiday may just be the best thing to ever happen to you.

Christmas morning came much more swiftly than you expected. The homely atmosphere of the cottage, the domestic haven where Doyoung spent his youth, felt like a sweet sanctuary that existed outside of the linear flow of time. Early morning walks down dew-covered lanes gave way to plentiful lunches that you savoured, which morphed into homely afternoons that eased into sleepy evenings around the fireplace. It was the sweet retreat you hadn’t realised you’d needed, and you were remarkably upset that you had to return to the city the following day.

“I know it’s not much, but I hope you’ll put this to good use,” you grinned at Mrs Kim as you handed over the Christmas present you’d brought her. She unwrapped the parcel, although the shape didn’t quite leave room for a discreet gift, to reveal a bottle of red wine.

“I’m sure I’ll find some way to use this,” she responded, a teasing twinkle in her eye as you shared a laugh together.

“Y/N,” Doyoung spoke, handing you a small box wrapped in festive paper. “Here.” He was already wearing the watch you had gifted him with. You peeled back the wrapping, opening the box to find a delicate silver necklace, hanging from it a shining silver jewel. It looked expensive; you wouldn’t be surprised if it was a real diamond.

“Wow,” you gasped, at a complete loss for words.

“Let me put it on you,” Doyoung offered, and you let him.

“It’s beautiful,” you smiled at him. “Thank you.” He smiled back sincerely.

Doyoung’s mother reached under the Christmas tree, bringing out two identically wrapped packages, square-shaped and squishy. “You kids open your presents together; I made them matching for you.”

You tore into the paper, opening the bundle to reveal a mass of knitted wool, soft and burgundy. You lifted it up to reveal a beautiful, intricate Christmas sweater - and noticed that Doyoung was holding an identical one.

“They’re so beautiful, Mrs Kim,” you complimented her, a little starstruck; though you knew Mrs Kim had handcrafted them, they looked like they were bought from a shop. They were of the most perfect quality, and looked splendidly snug and cozy.

“Yeah, thanks Mom,” Doyoung added, admiring the material. He waited until she looked away, taking a sip of her hot cocoa, before turning to you and muttering “Matching Christmas sweaters?” accompanied by a fake gag. You looked away, finding it almost impossible to stifle the giggle that bubbled up within you. They were beautiful, and you were endlessly grateful for the homemade gift, but Doyoung’s comment had amused you.

Mrs Kim looked at you with a knowing expression, and you couldn’t help but wonder if she’d noticed the exchange.

“Now you know I wasn’t kidding about my mom’s homemade cooking,” Doyoung said as he worked on the mountain of dishes in the sink.

“You really weren’t,” you agreed, stood next to him with a towel to dry the porcelain. You typically weren’t such a big fan of turkey, but something about the way Mrs Kim cooked it meant that it was surprisingly delicious. You had gone back for several helpings of the meal, encouraged by Doyoung’s mother, who seemed to derive pleasure from keeping people well-fed.

“I need a nap,” Doyoung declared, and you shared his experience of full-stomach sleepiness.

The pair of you finished up in the kitchen, and moved to the living room where Doyoung’s mother had relocated.

“Ah!” she stopped you in the doorway, before you could enter. “Look.”

You followed her pointed finger, to the green sprigs hanging in the archway. Mistletoe. Doyoung gave an awkward chuckle.

“Mistletoe for the lovers,” his mother chortled gleefully.

Doyoung captured you in his embrace, and your heart began to beat a little faster - was he really going to kiss you? You closed your eyes as he moved into you, and felt his lips peck your forehead. You smiled, before pulling him in for a kiss on the lips. In the spirit of Christmas. Doyoung’s eyes widened, and you laughed as his mother cheered. You followed her into the living room, making yourself comfortable on the couch that had no right being as cozy as it was. Doyoung’s cheeks were still red when he joined you, taking a seat on the couch alongside you.

The television was on, playing some old Christmas movie you vaguely recognised but had never seen. You brought your legs up onto the couch, snuggling into Doyoung’s side and nestling in further when he wrapped his arm around you. The film was already halfway through, and you were too sleepy to pay attention. It wasn’t long before you began nodding off to sleep, and you knew Doyoung was doing the same. Comfortable and relaxed, you let it happen, easing into a well-deserved nap with your best friend. Just as you fell into the unconscious, you sensed Doyoung’s mother draping a blanket over you both, and you smiled gratefully before letting yourself go.

“Taxi’s here!” Doyoung announced from his point of watch at the front door.

“I can’t believe you’re leaving already,” Doyoung’s mother pouted.

You agreed with a sad smile. “It was wonderful to meet you, Mrs Kim,” you bid her goodbye as Doyoung took your luggage out to the car.

“Beautiful Y/N,” she smiled back at you, taking your hands in her own. “Tell me the truth here.”

You blinked, surprised at her direct request. “Of course.”

“You and Doyoung aren’t really dating, are you?”

“I-”

“It’s okay, my love,” she reassured you. “Don’t worry about it. That Doyoung, he’ll do anything if he thinks it’ll please me.”

“He’s a good boy,” you commented, to which Mrs Kim nodded in agreement. “But how did you know?” You’d thought you’d given a pretty convincing show.

“Nothing gets past me,” she responded, her eyes glinting. “Listen. Doyoung’s partner or not, I can tell that you’re important to him. And for that, you’ll always be a member of this family. You’re always welcome in this home, Y/N.”

You swallowed back tears, touched by her warm words, and by how genuine they were. “Thank you, Mom.”

The older lady pulled you in for a hug, just as Doyoung called out to you, “Y/N, we gotta go.”

“You have my number, right?” Mrs Kim checked, and you nodded. “And keep that cookie recipe safe - three generations old, that is!”

“Of course,” you assured her, retreating to the taxi as Doyoung said his goodbyes to her.

“Come back soon, you two!”

“We will,” you and Doyoung promised her in unison.

Settled in the back of the taxi, you heaved a sigh. It had been a beautiful holiday period, but part of you was happy to be returning to the security of your own home. And an even bigger part of you was relieved to drop the act of being Doyoung’s partner.

Doyoung looked at you, a tired look in his eyes. “Y/N, I love you so much-”

“But we could never date,” you completed his statement, sensing its direction.

“Never,” agreed Doyoung with a laugh.

The two of you were much better off as friends. It would be a lie to say you’d never wondered what it would be like if your relationship ever happened to cross that boundary, but you were sated by the lesson you’d learned over the last week. Your relationship was platonic, and was destined to remain that way. That didn’t mean your relationship was any less significant than that of a romantic couple, though. Doyoung was your family. And you were beyond lucky to have found him.

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maria-scribbles · 4 years ago

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cocoa

sick of hearing his parents fight day after day, reggie goes to the one person who knows exactly what he's going through: the pretty violinist who lives next door.

fandom: julie and the phantoms

ship: alive!reggie x reader

word count: 1.5k+

featuring: swearing (as always), fighting, allusion to an abusive relationship, general sadness, mention of a family member’s death

a/n: day 2 of my holiday challenge: hot chocolate! this is kind of depressing and i'm sorry, sad!reggie was stuck in my head and he wouldn't leave until i wrote this but it has kind of a hopeful ending tho so i guess that counts for something? this is also my first time writing for this fandom so forgive me if it sucks. as usual, unbetaed so all mistakes are my b.

come join my holiday challenge!

December 1994

They were fighting again. It was the same old story: his dad being an ass on purpose, his mom taking the bait, wash, rinse, repeat. Their shouts rang harshly throughout the house, gloomy and miserable despite the cheerful decorations strung up in every room and the massive Christmas tree downstairs, dressed in its festive best and looking like it came straight out of a seasonal catalog.

Reggie had gone to them at the beginning of the month, begging them not to fight, please; his everyday life was already ruined by their screaming matches and the only thing he wanted for Christmas was some peace, quiet and civility to celebrate his favorite holiday. His father had pretended not to hear his son's pleas, ignoring him completely like he always did while his mother offered a tight-lipped smile that didn't reach her eyes.

"We'll try, honey." She'd said and he knew it was a lie. His mother always lied, his father always threw a plate at her head, Reggie always wished he had the courage to run away for good, like Luke did. But he wasn't Luke, he never would be, and he just didn't have it in him to leave them, even though he was the one who came out worse for wear after each fight.

The distant shatter of ceramic drifting up the stairs was his cue to go until things cooled down again -he never stuck around after the first dish got thrown, not anymore, the scar on his arm the perfect reminder why- and so he jimmied open the window of his room and climbed down the trellis into the salty air, the crashing waves of the Pacific covering his escape like a blanket.

(He could've stormed down the stairs and slammed the door behind him and his parents still wouldn't have noticed he left but something about sneaking out and risking a broken bone made him feel alive, the same rush he felt when he was on stage, bass humming in his hands, performing alongside his bandmates and knowing they felt it, too.)

Even outside, the echoes of his parents' angry voices still rang in his ears, haunting him all the way to the house next door, its sparkling lights shining brightly and guiding him through the darkening night like a beacon. The driveway sat empty, sans for one lone bicycle haphazardly lying on its side in front of the garage and he carefully propped it up on its kickstand before climbing the stairs to the front porch.

The faint sound of a slow, somber violin came to a stop as he knocked on the door, followed by a quiet, familiar voice Reggie knew like the back of his hand.

"It's open."

He found Y/N alone on the couch, eyes downcast and fingers fiddling with the strings of the violin on her lap and she glanced up at the tap of his boots on the hardwood floor, face brightening the slightest bit at the sight of her friend rounding the corner into the living room.

The girl didn't speak as she gently placed the instrument aside and stood, meeting him halfway and throwing her arms around his neck to draw him into a crushing hug. His own arms wrapped around her waist and held her just as tightly, his head resting on her shoulder, and the warm vanilla scent of her soft hair tickling his nose helped calm the storm in his heart.

"I'm sorry, Reg." Her voice was low and soothing in his ear and he didn't know how he could possibly hold her any tighter than he already was but he managed as he replied, "I'm sorry, too."

While his parents fought like wildfire, explosive and loud and raging with the wrong type of passion, hers were like a deep freeze, icy and cold and desolate in the worst possible way. Too many times Y/N was left to her own devices, all alone in an empty house with her thoughts and a violin her only company (at least they had given her that, the gift of music and a beautiful, expensive instrument to prove their love was real, albeit superficial).

It was some time later before she pulled back just far enough to look him in the eye and brushed a wayward strand of his dark hair back from his forehead with one calloused finger. "Okay, pity party's over. It's almost Christmas and we're not spending it being sad about shitty parents. Deal?"

She held out her pinky with one eyebrow raised expectantly and grinned when he nodded and hooked his pinky around hers. Reggie loved really liked that about her, the way she could just make all the heartache and pain and disappointment vanish from his mind like magic and replace them with thoughts of her and her sunny smile, her big heart, her touch that made the very blood in his veins spark like lightning. Y/N was his bright spot, his safe haven, and while Luke, Alex, and Bobby knew what he was going through, they just didn't understand like she did (they had their own problems to deal with, anyway, so he couldn't blame them).

"Good, now come on," She wrapped the rest of her fingers around his hand and started tugging him down the hall to the kitchen. "You're helping me make hot chocolate."

"Peppermint?" He asked, smiling when she glanced up at him with an offended look on her face.

"Duh. Only a heathen would make it without peppermint, Reginald."

Another thing he liked about her: she never did anything halfway; half-assing things, taking the easy way out, cutting corners just wasn't her style. It even applied to hot chocolate apparently, as he watched her flutter around the kitchen with practiced ease -heating milk and cream on the stove, measuring sugar and chocolate, slowly adding drops of peppermint oil- and despite her saying he was going to help, the only thing he got to do was crush some candy canes. Not that he minded, though, because while his hands could play bass like no one's business, they were a total disaster when it came to cooking and he knew Y/N was well aware of that fact, considering it took a week for the burnt popcorn smell to fade from her microwave the last time he tried.

The violinist smiled and proudly handed him the finished drink, whipped cream piled high and candy cane bits almost overflowing from the edge of a red mug. "This is my grandma's recipe," She said, one hand holding a purple mug for herself and the other reaching to grab onto his wrist and pull him out the front door. "She'd always make it when she came to visit for the holidays and we'd sit out on the porch and watch the ocean, each and every year."

"She was the best," Reggie said as the two sat together on the porch swing, his right side flush against her left. "I still have dreams about her cookies and wake up drooling."

The cool ocean breeze ruffled Y/N's hair and carried her laugh off down the beach. "She loved you, you know that? She was always talking about 'that nice boy next door.' Pretty sure she wanted us to get married."

"I loved her, too." He took a sip of his drink in an attempt to hide the blush that was taking over his entire face. "And we still have time for the whole marriage thing."

"I'm still waiting for my ring." She laughed again before looking down at the mug in her hands, voice becoming quiet as she replied, "I really miss her. She was the only person in my family who actually cared about me 'cause my parents sure as hell don't."

He wanted to tell her she was wrong but he knew it'd be a lie and he never did that, refusing to become a pathological liar like his mother, so instead he just wrapped an arm around her shoulders and tucked her against his side. "Hey, no more talk about shitty parents, remember?"

"Sorry, I know," She took a long sip of her cocoa, then rested her head on his shoulder with a sigh. "I just feel alone sometimes when you're not around. I mean, you have your band and I always had my grandma to talk to but now she's gone and I'm kind of...lost."

"You have the band, too, Y/N! Alex and Luke love you and Bobby, well, he's Bobby. No one really knows what goes on in that guy's head but I know he thinks you're cool. We all do, especially me, and you should know you're never alone 'cause you'll always have us."

The girl abruptly sat up and grabbed the mug from Reggie's hand before he could blink and placed it alongside her own on the floor, then threw her arms around his neck in another one of her fierce hugs.

"Has anyone told you how fucking amazing you are?"

"You just did." He buried his blushing face in her shoulder as his arms wrapped around her waist once again. "I'm serious, Y/N. You'll always have me."

"And you'll always have me, Reg. No matter what."

And as they sat there on the porch swing, wrapped in each other's arms, Reggie knew as long as he had Y/N in his life, things were gonna be okay.

#obxmermaidholiday #julie and the phantoms imagine #jatp imagine #reggie jatp #reggie x reader #reggie x y/n #jatp fic

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amintyworld · 4 years ago

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It’s a Wonderful Life, Tommy - Dream SMP Holiday Oneshot

A/N: So this started as an imagine that I wanted to do a bullet fic for, but I got carried away and kind of, sort of, wrote an 11-page fic? So, sorry for the extra setup at the beginning. It’s inspired off two of my favorite Christmas movies: ‘It’s a Wonderful Life’ and ‘A Christmas Carol’ and I ended up with a pretty good even blend of the two, and I’m pretty proud of this. Here’s my Christmas gift to the fandom, I hope you enjoy! So, grab your hot cocoa and Christmas cookies, settle into a blanket and enjoy this holiday tale. -Minty

Summary: After a nasty fight with Tubbo combined with Tommy’s worsening depression, its Tommy’s final straw as he decides he’s ready to give up. But, it looks like Tommy’s condition and situation has gotten some supernatural attention.

TW: Suicide attempt, talks of suicide, heavy blood and gore, manipulation and blame, major character deaths(?), insanity. (Please tell me if I need to tag anything else!)

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Imagine it’s Christmas Eve but he didn’t end up going with Technoblade and he’s still alone. He’s still as depressed as ever, and on top of all of that, he had an argument when Tubbo tried to visit that ended worse than anything Tommy ever imagined.

Tommy’s trying his best to enjoy the holiday and ends up wandering around, stumbling upon Technoblade’s house - where Ghostbur and Techno are both singing carols while decorating a tree. Tommy’s heart aches with loneliness as he quickly leaves before anyone could see him through the window. No one had left him any presents (Dream burned them all secretly) and he kept looking over Dream’s gift - a white porcelain mask with eyes and no mouth, like Dream’s. Dream claimed in his note that things were getting dangerous and it was to keep him safe and hide his identity. Something about it felt off, though.

He didn’t want to assume the worst of his friend, but it seemed more like a gift Dream wanted him to have instead of something he wanted. That’s why after a while of just holding it and tracing over the details with his fingers he put it away in his chest. He climbed his tower again and was getting ready to aim for the top of a tree, done with everything - with trying to hope when everything he ever had, his friends and family, were gone. He kept searching for a point to his suffering and found none, so he decided to finally end things for good.

A voice called out to him. It was Phil.

“It’s not really the season for giving up hope, now is it?”

Tommy was of course startled, as a floating spirit in the form of what looks like Philza, his dad, flying and floating in front of him... with wings? Tommy is trying to compose himself while trying to discern whether or not his ‘thing’ is real - touching his shoulder only to touch absolutely nothing, yelling at it to see if it’s a demon, while the spirit is nonetheless, unimpressed. “What are you? Are you really Phil, or am i just... hallucinating again?”

“I am quite real - you can call me your guide of sorts. I’ve taken the form of your loved one to make you feel more at ease. Anyway, Tommyinnit, I’m sent here to stop you from jumping from this pillar.”

“Why exactly should I listen to you? For all I know, you’re just another weird vision like Tubbo was. I’m really tired of my messed up mind, just go away.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that, Tommy. It’s my sworn duty to step in here, for your behalf.”

“My behalf?! I assure you, whoever you are, I’d be happier dead than to live without anyone who really cares about me.”

“How about a deal then? I will show you three places, events, and if I can’t change your mind, I’ll leave you alone.”

“No lying?”

“Why would I?”

“Okay, sure.” Tommy still didn’t think any of this was real, but he was honestly curious where this weird dream was going. The Guide took Tommy’s hand and told him to trust him, and they both jumped, Tommy yelling, confused, as he fell, fell, fell, preparing for impact and probably death, instead of falling into... snow?

He shivered and looked around - how is the sun up, it was the night a few seconds ago...? The Guide took his hand with a comforting smile and led him through the trees when Tommy froze in his tracks. A house... he KNEW that house. “Look familiar?”

Shouts nearby made his head whip around as a snowball raced toward him. He braced for impact, but it didn’t hit him. Instead, it hit a tree trunk behind him. Laughter filled the air as he heard a familiar voice behind him yell. “HA, your aim is shit, Tommy!” He saw a young version of Technoblade rush through the bushes, and... that was him... a young version of him in the trees, snowball in hand, angry at his missed shot.

“Yeah, well I still have the high ground, you arsehole!” He noticed a young Tubbo next to him, a snowball in each hand wearing a green coat that was way too big for him. He laughed, remembering it - Phil didn’t have money for a new coat for Tubbo that year, so he gave him his older one to use, and the poor kid kept falling over and tripping on it. Tubbo handed Tommy another snowball as they both pelted the snowballs down as Techno rushed into some cover behind a rock.

“This is Christmas by the lake, where Phil grew up. But, how can I see it, that was over six years ago-?” Tommy turned to the guide who showed him who his whole body turned translucent.

“In order to show you events, we must travel to that point in time, but we’ll only be observers, we can’t interact with them.”

Tommy looked over as Technoblade pelted Tommy with a snowball hard, making him lose his balance and fall to the snowy ground below. “This is unreal, it’s so clear, how can I recall this in a dream...?”

“I told you, I am a spirit Tommy, your Guide.” Looking around at it all, Tommy couldn’t help but to start to believe him. The smell of gingerbread filled his nose from the house as Wilbur walked out, his hands in the air.

“Okay guys, Phil told me to tell you to come inside-” Before his older brother could even finish his sentence, three snowballs hit him square in the face. “Hey, I’m not even playing!”

“You’re in the kill zone, Wil!” Tubbo shouted from the treetops as if that would explain everything.

“Ugh, why are you all so annoying-”

Techno smirked, looking over at his brother from his spot covered by the rock. “Aw, come on, don’t be a buzzkill Wilby.” Wilbur stopped at the nickname and turned with a fire in his eyes.

“I’ll show you buzzkill-!” He shouted as he threw a snowball at Techno, running for his own cover.

“Look at you, surrounded by your family, your best friend - it seems like you all love each other a lot.”

“Well, of course, we’re family.” Tommy paused, realizing what he said and quickly correcting himself. “At least, we were.” He watched the scene unfold - Philza called them in for cookies and cocoa and they all rushed into the house. While running, Tubbo tripped on his coat and fell again, and Tommy saw himself stay back and help Tubbo to his feet with a smile.

“I bet Tubbo appreciated your friendship, especially then.”

“Well, I knew what it was like to be the new kid in the family, you know? It’s awkward and weird at first to settle into. You’re by yourself for so long it’s hard to get used to being around people all the time who give you so much affection.” He walked over toward the window and looked inside - Phil put on some Christmas music that blasted through the player and Techno covered his ears, begging for something different, making everyone laugh. Wilbur pulled out his guitar as Technoblade practically slammed the ‘stop’ button on the player.

“All of you look close.”

“We are- were,” Tommy said. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter, none of this does - even if they cared for me and loved me then, doesn’t mean they do now.”

“I thought you said family loved each other no matter what.” The Guide said smoothly. “Why would it make sense for them to stop loving you now?”

“I don’t know...” Tommy breathed, his mind confused and questioning. “Maybe we’re not family. Maybe we... maybe we never were. Anyways, you’ve shown me enough of this to count for the deal, let’s just move on.”

“Hold on, we’re gonna miss my favorite part.” The Guide said as Philza came in with a Santa hat.

“As per tradition in the Sleepy Boys Incorporated Household, me - the Grand Master - shall decide who gets to receive an extra special gift to open before Christmas Day.” Wilbur bounced excitedly on the couch, and Tommy crossed his fingers as they waited. “I have tallied the points-”

“I still think there’s no point system-” Technoblade mumbled as Philza continued.

“And this year, the wearer of the special Santa hat goes to... Tommy!” Phil said as he tossed it over to the boy, who smiled widely. “For your extra help around the house and chores, this year’s for you, buddy.”

“Yay, Tommy!” Wilbur said from the couch as Technoblade smiled and nodded in approval. Tubbo clapped and cheered - this was the first year Tommy had ever been given the hat. Outside the window, Tommy crossed his arms and looked at the snow, knowing what was going to happen next. Young Tommy smiled wide as he clutched the Santa hat in his hands. He looked over to Tubbo for a moment, then to the hat, unknown thoughts in his head. Then, he handed it out to Tubbo.

“Here. You can have it.”

Tubbo looked confused. “But Tommy, you worked so hard for this - you did extra chores, you helped out Wilbur when his beanie got stuck in the tree... you didn’t curse for an entire week!”

“I know.” He smiled, turning into a smirk. “But, you know, if it was that easy for me to get it this year, I can always get it again. And, since it was harder for you, if I don’t give you the hat now, you probably won’t get it until you’re Phil’s age.”

“Hey, I heard that!” Philza shouted as he carried in a large gift-wrapped box to set on the table.

“But Tommy-” Tubbo tried to interject, but Tommy threw him the hat.

“Come on, I insist,” Tommy said, and the two best friends hugged each other tightly. Outside, Tommy looked at the scene, pressing his hand up against the glass, his heart aching uncomfortably, not being able to tear his eyes away from the tender moment. He turned to the spirit, emotion, and anger on his face.

“Tubbo exiled me, he burned his compass, he didn’t show up to my beach party, he didn’t even come to see me.” His eyes looked cold. “He’s NOT my best friend, let alone my friend!”

The spirit looked calm. “I see.” He slowly turned and began to walk away into the forest swiftly, leaving Tommy scrambling to catch up.

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“Spirit... Guide... whatever you are, wait up!” Tommy shouted as he sprinted after the figure through the trees, suddenly being caught by his shirt before he fell into the water. He looked around and noticed he was in L’manburg - the moon just how he left it when the spirit took him to the past. He noticed the Chinese lanterns, the dock, the houses - it wasn’t just L’manburg, it was New L’manburg. The spirit walked up the steps silently and Tommy was quick to follow. “We’re in the present, in L’manburg, but why?”

“I thought you’d be curious to see how your former friend is celebrating tonight - a look without the trouble of trying to hide or break the rules.” The spirit said simply, before holding out his hand for Tommy to take. “Hold on tightly, please.” Tommy gripped the spirit’s hand as he was dragged through a few walls, freaking out a bit until he realized that he was in the same state as a ghost, or like the spirit called it, an observer - so he couldn’t suffocate.

Whatever Tommy was expecting, it certainly wasn’t this. A room filled with torn posters of Technoblade pasted along the walls calling him all sorts of bad things, and a wooden table in the center with four people sitting around it, Tubbo among them. “I just don’t think it’s a good idea anymore, Big Q. With what Dream’s done to Tommy, what if he gets caught in all this?”

Quackity looked upset, his eyes narrowed. “Tubbo, this is our one and only chance to get revenge for our country, and you’re saying to stop all of our work for the small chance, chance that Tommy will show up?”

“He’s a L’manburg citizen, Quackity. As president, it’s my job to protect every citizen-”

“You’d sacrifice the country, Mr. President, everything we’ve worked for, for one person?!” Quackity snapped. Tommy looked on with piqued interest, noticing how both Ranboo and Fundy sunk down a bit on their chairs from the building tension in the room. Tubbo got up and leaned in so he and Quackity’s faces were inches apart.

“Yes, I would. I’m not going to be responsible for anyone becoming a ghost on my account, Quackity.” Tubbo snapped. “I draw the line at risking innocent lives.”

Tommy couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Even after they yelled at each other, screamed at each other, he... he still... cares?

“I’m questioning your true loyalty to your country, Mr. President - it seems your loyalties lie elsewhere. What kind of President wouldn’t be willing to do anything, make any sacrifice, for the betterment of the country?”

“One like Schlatt. Wilbur maybe. But not me.”

“Then, Mr. President, you’re nothing but a traitor.” Quackity said, pulling out his sword and pointing it at Tubbo. “I’m taking you under arrest.” Tubbo slowly put his hands up, looking over to Fundy and Ranboo, who both looked distraught and stayed silent.

“Quackity, you’re insane. You’re going to destroy L’manburg to kill Techno and Dream, you’re going to destroy everything we’ve worked to save.” Tubbo protested, but his cries fell on deaf ears as Quackity forced him to give him his stuff and armor.

Tommy’s mind whirred. “Tubbo still cares about me. Even after everything, he’s still my friend.” Tears welled up in his eyes. “I...I can’t believe it.”

“It’s a shame you don’t think the same of him.”

Tommy was quick to respond. “I do, I have, it’s just he’s done so much against me - he burned the compass, he didn’t show up to the beach party-”

Tommy looked over just in time to see Quackity close the jail cell loudly - there was barely enough room for Tubbo to sit or even stand. Tubbo’s hands clutched the bars. “Quackity, don’t do this. Do you even understand what Dream and Techno are capable of?!”

Quackity glared at him. “Of course I do, which is why I need to dispose of them since our leader is too much of a coward to do it himself. Come on guys, we have a festival to prepare for.” Fundy and Ranboo were silent as they passed him, bowing their heads in shame. Tommy walked closer with the spirit to see him pull out...the compass...

The enchanted compass, the matching one to the one Tommy had in his own chest. The one Dream said he burned. That didn’t make any sense, Dream said he- Dream. “Are you tricking me?”

“Why would I do that, Tommy? We made a deal.”

“But that doesn’t make any sense, Tubbo shouldn’t have the compass, it’s supposed to be burned!”

“Ah. Maybe that was the claim that led you astray?”

Tommy silently looked down at Tubbo as he held the compass in his hands, tears welling up in Tubbo’s eyes. “Guess you were right, Tommy. I’m so sorry…” Tommy had no words, thoughts running through his head. This didn’t make any sense. Dream wouldn’t lie to him, he’s his friend. Even so, emotion welled up in his eyes as his stomach formed in knots.

“Dream wouldn’t lie to me. Stop trying to trick me, I know this isn’t real.”

“But I promised you I’d only show the truth, didn’t I?”

“But this can’t be true - Tubbo’s compass is supposed to be burned, he’s not supposed to cry for me, he's supposed to hate me, they’re all supposed to hate me!”

“What if they don’t, Tommy, and they never have?”

“Even if they didn’t...even if they cared, I’ve caused too much trouble - all of this started because of me. So, wouldn’t it be better if I was gone?” The spirit held out his hand to Tommy.

“Do you want to find out?”

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After a few moments of hesitation, Tommy took the Spirit’s hand, and quickly was dragged upwards through the wall, into darkness, the spirit’s wings taking them up, up, up, and suddenly… he found himself on the ground. Thunder rolled in his ears as a light shower of rain began to fall toward the ground. He was on a mountain, and his hands gripped the soggy grass between his fingers, feeling the realness of it all. He looked around for his winged spirit but found no one. L’manburg stood around him, and he walked down the dock, noticing a crowd of people gathered around a memorial of sorts.

Curious, he crept closer. Who’s memorial was it? It looked nice too - a small stone cover from the rain, vines and flowers growing all around it. He started to worry - did his death cause someone else’s? He looked over at the crowd - he noticed Skeppy holding Bad close as he cried, and there was Puffy and Ant, who looked dazed by it all, their faces solemn. Oh, over there was Quackity - he crossed his arms and looked to the floor. Fundy sat next to George and Sapnap - his eyebrows furrowed in thought. George held Sapnap’s hand in comfort as tears slid down their cheeks every now and then. Punz and Ponk were in the back.. Oh, there was Ranboo!

His half-enderman friend was shaking, as Ghostbur stood at his side and did his best to comfort him, though even Tommy could tell the ghost was more than distraught over it all. Tommy walked closer… wait, was that Technoblade?! What was he doing here…? Isn’t he wanted in L’manburg? Even more surprising, was the tear staining glisten in his eyes - Technoblade was crying. It was an odd sight indeed to see his tough friend weep, but Philza was at his side to pull him close, tears rolling down his cheeks as well.

“He was a hero for L’manburg, and made numerous sacrifices for our country. More than that, he was an uncle, a son, a brother, and a friend to many who knew him.” There was Tubbo, speaking at the podium looking the saddest Tommy had ever seen him. His hands gripped the wood tightly as he shook slightly. “Though he was not with us for long, I think it’s clear to see when I look around this room he touched more lives than he knew. He was brave, strong, and an inspiration to many as someone who encompassed the true values of our nation.. He may be gone, but will always live on in our memories and in our hearts.”

Tommy’s heart dropped as he read the sign: ‘Tommyinnit, joined July 2020, died December 2020. A friend taken too soon.’ This was his memorial, all of them were here… this was HIS funeral! He noticed how Tubbo’s shaking grew more noticable as tears streamed from his eyes that left drops where his speech was prepared. Philza walked up and they both hugged each other tightly, Phil rubbing his back as Tubbo let out a sob and the two walked back to sit with the rest.

Slowly, one by one people began to walk up to a buried spot on the ground - his green bandana was tied tightly to the side as it waved in the wind like a flag. He watched as Ghostbur walked up and left some blue flowers at his grave. “I hope you’re happier, wherever you are. Here’s some blue - I got extra so you won’t run out.” Tommy’s eyes threatened to spill with tears as Ghostbur put a hand on his gravestone. “Both Alivebur and I love you very much, and we’ll miss you a lot, but don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine! I’ll try to take care of Tubbo for you, okay?”

“Okay..” Tommy choked out as a tear slid down his cheek. Ranboo walked up to sit next to Ghostbur, silent. Ghostbur gave him a hug, which he returned before Ghostbur left, walking back into the crowd of people talking.

“I really should have noticed it sooner, shouldn’t I?” Ranboo said. “I should’ve been there more, did more, did anything… but I… I’m so sorry, Tommy.” His hands were shaking as they reached out toward the gravestone but stopped short of touching it. “You did so much for me, you protected me, and I… I couldn’t even do the same for you. I’m a pretty bad friend, aren’t I?”

“No, no.” Though Ranboo couldn’t hear him or see him, Tommy put his hand on Ranboo’s shoulder as he tried his best not to try, sniffling. “You were the best friend I could ever ask for. You were there for me whenever I needed you. This isn’t your fault.”

Both heard steps behind them and turned to notice Techoblade standing there, no clear emotion in his face. Ranboo quickly left, intimidated by the pig hybrid as he disappeared back into the crowd. Technoblade took his crown off as he approached, kneeling in front of the gravestone, silent for a few moments. “I wish we were closer. I wish I would’ve been there to help you before it was too late. I… I wish you knew how much I loved you, but I guess we’re both too similar when it comes to admitting something like that, huh?” Technoblade smiled a bit before it quickly fell. “I know I didn’t agree with your choices, but that doesn’t mean that I wouldn’t help you, I should’ve let you know that.” Tommy stood, stunned at Technoblade’s words - that he loved him, that he’d miss him. Techno pulled out a folded cloth. “I was going to give you it for Christmas, but Dream had other plans. I’m sorry, it’s the only present I saved from the lava.” Technoblade set it down next to the flowers. “It’s a cape like mine, see? Wilbur kept telling me how cold you were in exile. Partly it was because of that, the other part was because I was too annoyed when you kept trying to steal mine-” Technoblade sniffled, a few tears going down his cheeks that landed in the dirt below. Philza walked up and gave him a tight hug.

“Shh, Techno. It’s okay. I know he would’ve loved it.” Philza said, comforting his eldest. “Now go talk to Ghostbur and make sure he doesn’t wander off with Friend.” Techno just nodded, taking one last look at the grave and placing his hand on the stone, turning and walking off.

Philza was by far the quietest one of all, running his fingers over the soft green bandana and the top of the gravestone. Tears flowed freely down his cheeks as he took out a small photo in his pocket. It was an old Christmas photo from so long ago - Technoblade had Tommy up on his shoulders, Wilbur was standing at attention in a salute, holding back a laugh as Tubbo chased his scarf, Philza taking a sort of selfie with the camera, the chaos showing in the background. He wedged it in Technoblade’s cloak. “Here, don’t forget us - the good parts of us.” Philza said softly. “Don’t forget that we’ll always love you, no matter what.” Philza wiped away a few tears from his eyes. “I don’t know if I’ll ever know why you did this, and I don’t think I’ll ever really know. I’m sorry I wasn’t a good father to you, and I hope you’re at peace wherever you are.” Philza took a deep breath getting ready to leave when a loud crash interrupted him.

Tommy, still trying to compose himself and wipe away his tears from his family and friend’s sentiments, looked up in surprise to see Tubbo pissed off, being held back by Technoblade and Puffy, Ghostbur trying to calm him down. Dream got up from his place on the ground, a large crack forming on his white mask. Tubbo yelled, shouted and kicked. “He doesn’t GET to be here, he’s lucky I don’t kill him right now! He’s the one who killed him, he doesn’t get to go near him again!”

Ghostbur looked nervous when Tubbo smacked the blue he offered out of his hand. “Tubbo calm yourself, please, for Tommy-!”

“I didn’t push him off that tower, did I, Tubbo?” Dream’s words were sharp and calm, traced with anger. Everyone fell silent, as Dream approached the President. “I didn’t do anything, if anything, he died because of all of you - you could have stopped me, you could have visited, and you did nothing-”

Without hesitation, Tubbo decked him across the face, his mask flying toward the ground, and suddenly blonde messy hair and piercing green eyes started down at him. “You told him lies, you manipulated him, you made him think he was alone. We may have not done much, even if we knew what you were doing, but at least we didn’t drive him into that depression, Dream. That’s all on you, and you fucking know it.” Tubbo pointed a finger at his chest. “You’ve got some nerve showing up here after everything you did to him. I don’t want you here and I know that he sure as well wouldn’t either.” Tubbo’s eyes narrowed. “So you either leave or we’re settling this right here, right now.”

“Are you threatening me, Mr. President?” Dream smirked. “Not a very wise decision - I’ve beaten you before, I’ve taken everything away from you and watched you beg for mercy.”

“That’s what you don’t understand, Dream.” Tubbo said. “You’ve taken so much away from me I have nothing left to lose.” Dream pulled out his sword but a heavy smack from Tubbo sent it to the floor. “You underestimate just how far I’m willing to go, Dream. You think you’ve seen me upset, seen me angry? You haven’t seen even a fraction of it. I will stop at nothing for Tommy - I don’t even care if you kill me, all I care about is that you’re going down with me.” For the first time in his life, fear flew across Dream’s face.

“Tubbo. Leave Dream alone, he’s not worth it.” Philza said as he turned Tubbo away from Dream and glared down at him. “Just get out of here, Dream.”

“Tubbo never really was the same again after you left.” The guiding spirit turned Tommy’s attention to the side, where he sat at the top of the dome memorial. “You mean a lot to him, and losing you after L’manburg fell to Dream, it was the last straw.”

“Wait, wait, wait. Dream owns L’manburg?! That’s impossible, Tubbo would never allow that to happen.”

“He didn’t.” The spirit replied. “Quackity led the charge against Dream and failed, nearly destroying the nation again before legally surrendering it to Dream. Ranboo was going to let Tubbo out of his cell to help, but when he didn’t hear from you he decided to check on you instead and found your body. As always, Dream traded Quackity L’manburg for something he wanted more than anything - the power to revive Schlatt.”

“Revive Schlatt?!” Tommy’s eyes widened. “Dream knew how to do it all along. So why didn’t he revive Wilbur…?”

“It wasn’t of use to him.” The spirit said. “When you died, L’manburg died with you. Philza fell into a deep depression after losing two of his sons to his own hands, and Technoblade… he went mad.”

“Technoblade went crazy…?!”

The spirit pointed around the corner as they jumped once again, landing on the dock as screams of agony echoed throughout the country. Tommy looked around in disbelief as red blood splattered the ground. He noticed Niki run past him toward the bridge, terrified. A dark shadow passed overhead and Technoblade landed in front of her with a wide smile and crazy eyes. “Where are you going, Niki…?”

“N-nowhere, I was just going to go fishing…”

“Really…? If I knew any better, I would have thought you were trying to leave.” Techno’s eyes narrowed. “You know how Dream feels about people breaking his rules.”

“Technoblade, I’m sorry, please… I promise, I won’t come near the docks ever again-!” Niki pleaded as Techno’s laugh echoed through the walls, turning into… crying? Technoblade sobbed as he leaned on his trident as a sort of staff. Niki approached, sympathetic.

“I want him back, Niki. I just want him back.” Technoblade said. “I’d do anything for him, any goddamn thing…” The crying stopped as Techno looked up, eyes full of anger. “Even if that means ripping the guts out of some lying two-faced bitch who didn’t care enough to save him. Come here you little-!” He charged at Niki, and she took off again, screaming, crying for help.

“N-no… Technoblade stop-!” Tommy cried, but Techno didn’t hear him as he snatched her up and beheaded her in one rip, sending blood everywhere. Niki’s painful screams filled his ears.

“Tubbo managed to take Dream down, and they both died in one of his death traps. Now, thanks to his manipulation, Technoblade is a bloodthirsty warrior with no master to serve. He clings to the bit of sanity he has left, not being able to deal with the guilt of being responsible for your death, so he blames others.”

“This can’t be true. Surely if I died some good would come from it.” Tommy said.

“The only good that would come of your death would be Dream’s, who thanks to Tubbo died much earlier than he was supposed to, and in turn saved his people from another tyrannical ruler.” The spirit said. “As for Ghostbur, well…”

Tommy turned around to notice Ghostbur flying around, wondering in the bloody mess of L’manburg that was too eerily quiet for Tommy’s liking. The spirit was gone again, Tommy was alone. He followed Ghostbur as he stepped over dead bodies and looked inside houses. “Hey Technoblade?” Ghostbur called, looking around. “Hey Techno, I have a fun idea to prank Tubbo with, where are you?” He opened the door to Philza’s house. “Philza? Philza Minecraft?!” He called. “I can’t find Techno, do you know where he… oh, you’re not here either.” He knocked, door to door, calling out for everyone, but it was dead silent. “Quackity?! Niki…? Fundy, where are you?!”

Tommy reached to grab Ghostbur’s hand. “They’re not here, Wil. They’re dead.” But Ghostbur didn’t notice him in the slightest.

“Tubbo?! Fundy…?”

“Ghostbur, they’re dead. You gotta stop, they’re not here.” Tommy said solemnly. “They’re dead because of me, but you gotta stop looking, they’re gone-”

“Sapnap? Bad…?”

“Wilbur please.” Tommy begged. “They’re dead, you have to move on.”

“George…?”

“They’re dead, WIlbur.” Tommy snapped, beginning to cry. He looked around for his spirit friend. “Spirit, can you hear me? I want to go back, please let me go back. I don’t want this to happen, please! Can I change it? Is there still time?! I want to live!”

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When he opened his eyes, he was in his bed in the tent, the morning sun just peaking above the horizon. He wiped a few tears off his cheeks. Was it all a dream… was it not real…? He scrambled for his calendar - Christmas Day. There’s still time. He could fix everything! He searched in his chest for the compass and his discs as he packed a bag - he looked over the mask for a second, before rushing outside and in a fit of rage, frisbees it into the ocean and watched it sink to the bottom. “Fuck you, Dream.” He cursed, feeling freer than he had in weeks.

He grabbed his bag and ran off into the forest toward the snow covered house he knew, picking up some blue cornflowers along the way. His heart felt light as he hummed Christmas carols, running along the path he knew until he saw Technoblade’s house in the distance. Running up to the door, he knocked, smiling. The house was decorated beautifully, and when Ghostbur opened the door he smiled. “Hello, Tommy!”

“Hey Ghostbur!” Tommy smiled. “Sorry it’s a bit early, but I just couldn’t wait to come over and say Merry Christmas!” Technoblade came over to the door, looking extremely confused.

“Tommy…?” Technoblade yawned before Tommy crashed into him with a hug, only making the older increasingly confused. “Um-”

“Merry Christmas, Technobade.” Tommy said happily, handing out the blue flowers to Ghostbur, his eyes lighting up as he smiled. “This is for you.”

“So much blue!” Ghostbur shook with excitement, taking the flowers in his hands. “They’re so pretty, thanks Tommy!”

“You’re welcome.” Tommy said, feeling a sense of dejia vu from it all. Technoblade smiled and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Wanna come inside? I was just about to make breakfast.” Technoblade’s voice was gentle, and for the first time in a long while Tommy felt really happy. Techno ushered him inside by the fire, insisting that he was turning blue out in the snow without a jacket. Ghostbur realized too quickly that Techno didn’t have a vase for the flowers, but with a bit of help from Tommy, he was beginning to weave a flower crown. It was nice to revisit that - he remembered how Philza taught them all how to weave flowercrowns when they were younger, and how to make an acorn whistle, which he quickly regretted. Tommy laughed as he remembered Phil’s face as all three of them whistled all the way home so loud they scared away any animals within a 100 mile radius, for sure.

Techboblade was quiet but content, relaxed, and happy. After a nice breakfast of eggs and toast - the first good breakfast Tommy had in ages, which he finished in record time - Wilbur stood under the tree to open gifts excitedly like he was a child again. As they all settled in, a quick knock on Technoblade’s door interrupted them. “Hello- Oh… hey Phil.”

To his surprise, Tommy and Wilbur couldn’t see their dad at all behind the large pile of wrapped boxes in his hands. His breaths were labored as he spoke. “I hope I’m not late-”

“No, no. In fact, you’re just on time.”

“I was looking for Tommy’s house everywhere and then I realized I went the wrong way, and then he wasn’t there-” Philza began, walking in as he noticed Tommy sitting on the floor. “Well, there you are.”

“Here I am.” Tommy said with a sheepish smile. “Do you need help with that?”

“Please.”

After all of Phil’s gifts were added to the growing collection under the tree, his father pulled Tommy in for a quick hug. “I’m glad you’re here. Christmas wouldn’t be the same with you, you know.”

“I’m glad you didn’t forget me.” Tommy admitted softly, and Phil squeezed around his middle a little tighter.

“Never.” Philza whispered in response, making the younger tear up a bit at the words in joy. When they both pulled away Tommy wiped his eyes, not being able to help his bright smile. “Alright, we’ve got some presents to open, don’t we?”

“We may have to do mine first, I didn't have much time to wrap-” Tommy said as he grabbed his bag and searched. Wilbur proudly showed off his Blue flower crown with glee, making the other two smile at his child-like cheer. Technoblade stilled as Tommy held out a diamond for him. “I’m sorry, I was in a bit of a hurry, I know you have netherite, if you don’t want it-”

“I love it, Tommy.” Technoblade said as he took the diamond and held it in his hands. “It means a lot to me you’d give me it. Thank you.” The two shared a smile before Techno’s face turned into a smirk. “Plus, you’re poor, it was the best you could do, anyway-”

And, as Philza admired and thanked Tommy for the stone sword, Tommy couldn’t help but notice a figure in the window, a figure he thought he’d never see again. His Guardian Spirit, looking inside from the window at the scene with a warm smile. As the spirit looked inside the joyful house, Tommy could distinctly recall a voice in his head echoing words that he’d never forget.

“It’s a wonderful life, isn’t it Tommy?”

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collecting-stories · 4 years ago

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Blue Lagoon - ep. 01 - Rafe Cameron

Summary: Ward announces a family vacation while being the absolute worst and you meet Rafe for the first time.

A/N: Can’t believe I’m making a Rafe series...super nervous about this one. If you like the first chapter and wanna be tagged let me know! (Also, all the chapters are named after beach cocktails). This is a re-write of Chapter 1!

Holiday in the Sun Masterlist | Outer Banks Masterlist

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

Thirteen had been a tragic year. The year of braces and that terrible hair cut that could only be described as the love child of a bowl cut and a mullet. Your best friend had taken scissors to your hair and you had regretted it ever since. It was the year of hoodies and basketball shorts and more layers than Billie Eilish. The year you fell and busted up your face so bad that you suffered through vacation with a bruise the size of Texas on your jaw. The year all your friends caught up to you but you were still taller and your boobs were still bigger and you still felt more awkward. 

The worst thing about thirteen though, had been the vacation. It was the first time your mom had decided to do a joint vacation to the Bahamas over break. You were thirteen and an absolute tragic mess and already so embarrassed just by your existence and then she flew you to the Bahamas to spend Christmas with the Camerons. 

And if Rafe wasn’t already so attractive and beautifully self-assured; fifteen and already tall and funny and you felt arguably worse about yourself in comparison to him and his sister. But especially him. And part of that was entirely because he’d been so nice. You were fully prepared for him to treat you like every other kid at your school treated you but he didn’t. He was so nice to you and you’d spent a vacation that you thought was going to be horrible having an incredible time. 

But that was the last of the joint family vacations, your mom focusing her time on her new job once you’d gotten home, so you were surprised when she proposed the idea again your junior year of high school. 

“The Bahamas?” 

“Over Christmas...with the Cameron’s.” Your mom replied, barely looking up from her notepad. 

“Oh uh, okay,” there wasn’t much else you could say. She wasn’t about it accept a no from you and yeah, the last trip had been fun, but that nervous insecurity ate away at you from the moment she mentioned it. 

You certainly weren’t the tragic thirteen-year-old mess that you had been back then, and maybe that should have inspired some confidence but instead you were just nervous. If you had gotten arguably better than what did Rafe look like? Probably even more gorgeous than he’d been before. One of your friends suggested trying to find him on instagram but you didn’t need any more anxiety pre-vacation so you avoided the possibility of seeing him before you really saw him at all.

It was Rose who first suggested the little change of scenery for the New Year. Winter break was fast approaching and Ward was at the end of his rope with his oldest and Rose, in an ill-fated attempt to make his exhaustion work for her, mentioned the house in Nassau. Late at night, while Ward sat in his office trying to calm his nerves with a bottle of scotch. He’d been woken by a call from Peterkin that Rafe had been arrested, the third time in two months, for driving under the influence. He didn’t ask what his son was under the influence of and he almost left him in lockup for the night but he got dressed, picked him up, and drove him home in silence. Something had to change and then Rose broached the topic of a vacation. Of course it came with a catch, as everything with Rose seemed to do.

“Dad,” Sarah groaned, looking up from her homework when he announced the trip over breakfast the next morning. “you can’t be serious?”

Ward had come down to breakfast, calling Rafe into the kitchen where Sarah and Wheezie were already eating. He didn’t hate Rose’s idea, even the part of it that benefitted her need to show off, and he decided not to waste time telling his kids the news.

“As a heart attack Sarah.” He replied. “It’s been a busy year and I think this is exactly the kind of family trip we all need right now. Take some time away from the island and our,” he looked across the room at Rafe disdainfully, “more objectionable pastimes.”

“It was one DUI.” Rafe said, fighting the urge to roll his eyes. He was still a little hungover from the night before and the weed he’d just been smoking had his eyes bloodshot. He would’ve really loved to get some sleep but just as he was starting to doze off Ward was banging on his bedroom door.

“And it would’ve been your third if Peterkin didn’t owe me a favor. I’ve only got so much clout Rafe, I can’t keep bailing you out every time you decide to do something reckless. Your choices-”

“Reflect the family.” Rafe replied, “I know.”

“Then you’ll know this isn’t up for discussion. We’re going to Nassau in a week.”

All of them missed Wheezie’s groan as she laid her head in her hands. The silent onlooker to her family’s revolving door of drama, Wheezie’s role was that of mediator, instigator, and observer, but she wasn’t granted the privilege of an opinion.

“I’m supposed to go to the Keys with Scarlett!” Sarah mentioned, as if it mattered, “why do we all have to be punished just because Rafe screwed up?”

“I didn’t screw up Sarah, I was barely drunk. Shoupe was just trying to give me a hard time.”

“Oh, of course, our mistake.” Ward replied, “the world is out to get you. Do you know where your classmates are right now? In college. Yale, Harvard, Duke, even NCS...and where are you? That’s right, sitting at home every day, smoking weed, wasting my money.”

“I said I’d do some work for you.”

“Because this is what I want representing my company? You can’t even get out of bed before three in the afternoon most days.” Ward snapped, “take this vacation as an olive branch. And when we get back start thinking about what you want your life to look like because any more ‘wrong turns’ and you can forget the nice stuff and the free room and the bailouts.”

“Dad!”

“That’s not fair to me and Wheezie!” Sarah piped up, repeating her earlier argument, “why are we being punished?”

“Don’t rope me into this.” Wheezie commented. She wasn’t going down with this ship. At least not yet.

“I hardly think a week in the Bahamas is a punishment Sarah.” Ward replied, “now, is it possible to get through this without any other objections?”

“Can I invite Topper?” Sarah asked, “you said Rose’s friend is coming with her daughhter so I don’t see why I can’t invited someone.”

“Rose’s friend?” Rafe asked, looking up from his phone.

“Yes. We’ve been on vacation with them before. You remember? He daughter is a year older than Sarah I think.”

“Yeah,” he nodded, the slightest smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth.

“Can I invite a friend?” Wheezie asked.

“No.” Ward said.

“If Sarah gets to bring someone why can’t I? That’s not fair!”

“I’m done with the arguments and backtalk. We’re leaving in a week. If Dr. Thornton says Topper can come, he can come. But I’m not a babysitting service for you and your friends Wheezie.”

“Sarah always gets to-”

“Louisa!” Ward snapped, hand hitting the marble countertop. Sarah’s eyes went wide and Rafe looked up from his phone, standing up a little straighter at the notable anger in his father’s voice.

“Sorry.” Wheezie shrunk down in her seat, looking away from her dad.

“Now, do you think it’s possible that we can all get through this without any more arguments? We leave on Sunday. Since I have actual work to do, unlike any of children,” Ward said, looking over at Rafe, “I’ll be in my office.”

All three of them stayed put as they listened to their dad’s footsteps as he headed upstairs to his office. Sarah got up from the table, grabbing her phone and heading outside to call Topper while Wheezie still sat there looking close to tears for being yelled at.

Rafe put his phone down on the counter and crossed the kitchen, putting his hand on his sister’s back and rubbing small circles. “Hey, no worries, okay? I’ll hang out with you on the trip.”

“You’ll just off with Topper and Sarah and I’ll be stuck with Rose while she day drinks.” Wheezie muttered, rubbing at her eyes.

“I promise Wheez, I won’t ditch you.”

“Okay,” she looked up at him, holding her hand out, pinky extended, “pinky promise?”

“Yeah, pinky promise.”

The week went by faster than any of them wanted it to, Sunday creeping up too soon. Trips to Nassau were usually staggered. Ward might go with Rose, or Rafe and Sarah went with friends or Ward took Wheezie, but they never went altogether. A family vacation hadn’t happened in almost four years.

Rafe could remember the last trip. Sarah had brought Scarlett because, once again, she was their father’s favorite child. Ward told Wheezie she couldn’t bring someone, pretending that she was too young but Sarah had been twelve and she’d been allowed to bring someone. Scarlett was a nightmare on vacation and an absolute bitch to you, Rose’s best friend’s daughter. Rafe had spent most of his time with you just to avoid his sister and Scarlett but he’d actually had a great time. Probably the last great time he had sober.

On Sunday morning he stood at the back of the SUV, helping his dad load it up for the drive to airstrip.

“Alright, do we have everything we need to go?” Ward asked, looking toward the house as Rose came out with her biggest suitcase rolling alongside her. “Rose, it’s a week for godsake.”

Sarah leaned out the window at her stepmom before sharing a look with Rafe, rolling her eyes. Rose caught the look and frowned. “Sorry all my clothes aren’t the size of Malibu Barbie and require a little extra space.” She said, glaring at Sarah.

“Here we go!” Sarah swore.

Ward took a deep breath, “just get in the car. Please.” He passed the suitcase to Rafe before following his wife around the side of the car, “and Sarah, behave.”

“Are you kidding me? She literally started it. I said nothing.”

“I don’t wanna hear it.”

Sarah groaned, sitting back in her seat, “this is the stupidest vacation, why do we all have to go?”

“Sarah!” Ward shouted, “not another word! Some of you are lucky that we’re all going since you certainly don’t deserve a nice vacation.”

Rafe shut the door as he climbed in the backseat beside Wheezie, “am I supposed to say thank you?” It didn’t surprise him that somehow his dad yelling at Sarah had turned into his dad taking a dig at him.

“It’s beyond my comprehension how I managed to raise such incredibly spoiled, ungrateful children.”

“Sorry dad,” Sarah muttered.

“Well I won’t wait for the other two apologies.” He said, looking in the rearview mirror at them. Wheezie had her airpods in, staring down at her phone, “this one probably can’t even hear me.”

Rafe nudged his youngest sister and she looked up, “huh, what?” She took one headphone out and looked around the car but Ward had already changed the subject.

“Is Topper meeting us at the airstrip or am I supposed to be picking him up?”

“He said he would meet us.” Sarah replied, slumping in her seat as they backed out of the driveway and headed to the airstrip.

“You know Sarah,” Ward mentioned, always happy for an opportunity to dig for a dig at Rafe’s expense where he could find one, “I really do like this young man. He’s very responsible. It’s a shame my own son couldn’t be so disciplined and mature.”

“This is gonna be a great vacation dad, you were right.” Rafe piped up.

“You can save the snark Rafe.”

The only thing quieter than the rest of the drive to the airstrip was the flight to Nassau. Quiet and awkward, so much so that Topper spent the entire trip too tensed to even move, aside from his knee bobbing uncontrollably. None of the Cameron kids seemed to notice the unease or they were all so adapted to it that it didn’t seem to affect them.

Ward had eased up on the commentary and Rafe was silent, hoping he wouldn’t have to listen to anymore of his father’s opinions if he just stayed quiet. He knew that wasn’t the case but it was working so far. Rose was too engrossed in her phone to bothered with any of them, Sarah and Wheezie taking up similar approaches to the flight.

“You know we could be taking a private plane to like, Paris or something right now? Wouldn’t that be kind of incredible?” You asked, reaching for one of the bagels that your stepdad had laid out on the table.

“The Bahamas are equally incredible,” Your mom piped up, smacking your hand and making you drop the bagel, “eat some fruit, you look bloated.”

“I’m not bloated mom.”

“Well, you're either bloated or pregnant and let’s not hope it’s the latter.” She snarked, pushing the bowl of fruit closer.

“Thanks mom.” You rolled your eyes, “and thanks so much for this vacation when I was supposed to be in Ptown with Ben.”

“Ptown’s not going anywhere.” She replied. “Try to be positive, remember what Dr. Nygaard said, try not to decide the outcome of an event before it happens.”

“Thanks for that inspirational advice,” you said, “you should get it printed on a t-shirt.”

Your mom had announced the trip not three days after you had committed to going to Provincetown with friends for Christmas. You’d paid for a fifth of the house that your friend group was renting for the week only for your mom to announce that you had to cancel. Rose had invited her (and you and your stepdad) to the Cameron’s Nassau house and she had accepted, effectively canceling any plans that you had. There was no chance of arguing the point with her, if she said you were going then you were going. And to be fair, part of you kind of wanted to go, just for the opportunity to see Rafe. Though it was for that same reason that you were really dreading the chance to go to.

The Cameron’s landed at the airstrip in Nassau an hour after your family had already arrived and your mom had taken the liberty of renting two SUVs for the week. When Ward did land, Wheezie pressed her face to the window, looking out at the private port. “Who is that?” She asked, not recognizing Rose’s friend or her family.

“My friend LeAnn, you remember we went to Nassau with them last time.” Rose replied.

Your mom nudged you, a silent jab meant to tell you to turn your phone off. You were only making yourself more depressed anyway, seeing that your friends were having a great time while you were stuck on a family vacation.

Rose waved as she exited the plane and your mom waved back enthusiastically. “LeAnn, I’m so happy you could make it!”

“Thank you for inviting us,” your mom said, hugging Rose before looking to Ward, “we always talked about vacationing together again, I’m so glad it finally worked out.”

“Oh me too,” He replied though it sounded half-hearted.

“It’s so beautiful here.” LeAnn said, looking around as if she hadn’t had the opportunity to before, “didn’t I tell you how nice it would be?” She asked you.

“Yeah, it’s super warm here.” You made a point of moving your hand up to block the sun, squinting behind your sunglasses and scrunching your nose.

“Don’t mind her, she was going to spend her vacation in with friends but she’ll get over it.” LeAnn said, excusing your behavior.

The rest of the family, Rafe, Sarah, Topper, and Wheezie, caught up with Ward and Rose, bags in hand and ready to get to the house. Wheezie avoided introductions, a quick wave before she headed straight to the second car, putting her airpods back in as she did. Rose ignored her daughter, going through a round of introductions anyway, as if you had all completely forgotten each other. As she pointed to Rafe you looked up from your phone, your eyes meeting his. Four years since your seen him and that same familiar pull in your stomach was still there when he smiled, like butterflies erupting. It lasted only a second as your mom spoke up and you turned to look at her.

“I can’t believe how old you both are now! And Wheezie, the last time I saw you all you were just kids.”

“Well it’s been four years mom.” You pointed out.

“I know how long it’s been.” She said, glaring at you. “I guess we’ll see you all back at the house right?”

As everyone piled into their respective cars, your stepdad offered up the backseat if anyone wanted, noting that they had four people to get in the back of their car and your family only had you. Rafe looked at the back seat as Sarah climbed in, bag still in his hand as he slowly stepped away from the car.

“If you don’t mind?” He said, catching your attention.

You stopped what you were doing, hand hovering over your bag as you stood there at the open trunk, your stepdad answering Rafe, “not at all, hop in.”

He nodded, coming around the back of the SUV and putting his bag in the back. You were still standing there, practically frozen as you followed the motion of his bag getting tossed in the trunk as he turned to you, “need help?”

“I can lift a bag, promise.”

“I mean, last time-”

“The latch wasn’t on my suitcase last time!” You laughed, “I can’t believe you remember that, that was so embarrassing.” You had been lifting your suitcase onto the cart at the hotel last time you were here and dropped it on the ground, the latch popping and spilling your clothes and belongings everywhere. The worst of it being Rafe picking up the stuffed dog that you had brought with you. “I did bring Wilbur though,” you said, just to get a laugh.

It worked, Rafe shaking his head at you as he put your bag in and shut the trunk door. You followed him around to the backseat and he let you get in first, sitting so close to you that his thigh touched yours. It was unnecessary, since there was plenty of room with just the two of you, but he acted like he didn’t even realize it.

“Sorry you had to give up vacation just to come here.” He whispered, turning to look at you.

“And miss the opportunity to hang out with you for a week?” You asked, grinning.

taglist: @maplelattes22 @poguesrforlife @freckled-and-daydreaming @chasefreakinstokes @millie-753 @fangirlwithme @alex12948 @katherine097 @tangledinsparkles @carbonated-beverage @mariofgreengables @damonsalvawhore27 @dopedoodes @dolanfivsosxox @belledutchess @poguelifeeee @faded-blue @parkerpetertingle @thebookwormlife @summer-clouds-and-long-days @jellyfishbeansontoast @minigranger @hoewkeye @love-someone-special @tiredfeels @strangerthanfanfiction713 @the-only-nana @tomzfrog @mozz-are-lla @vindictive-hearts @poguestyleskye @ssprayberrythings @jenahbell @beautyandthebleh @gothackedalready @teenwaywardasgardian @sarahcxmeron @haha-fuck-you-thot @stillbelieve398-5 @rewindlr @queenniccimicci @kissessforharryyy @thedarkqueenofavalon @alytavzla @bqmblebee @linniep @nerdypartytrashpsychic @xxchxrryxx @spencer-reid-is-a-cutie @mirjanak @danielladreaming @obx-saltlife @youngestxhearts @spnobsessedmemes @wowitswondergurl @celestialmaybank @mybnkjj @pineappleandcherries @mysterious-adventurer @justawilddreamerchild @rhyetaylor62 @calm-rejects @balletandyuzu @oh-annaa @aiifandomsunite @x-lulu @ceruleanjj @wicked-laugh @obxwriterfan @allie-mcginn @pcterparxer @literarycharleton @khiaraaa-in-spacee @crushe-s @teamnick @daydreamlilys @lemur46 @haute-shawn @collectiveuniverses @activist-af @mdgrdians @buckys-sunflower @vindictive-hearts @copper-boom @talksoprettyjjx @5am-cigarette @smiithys @dontjinx-it @outerbanksbro @mysticsthinking @heavenlymama @rudy-pankow-needs-an-oscar @babymatilda @raekenliar @prejudic3 @drewsephsmiles @starrystarkey93 @n1ghtsh4d3-67

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weisshapt · 4 years ago

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* BLACKBIRD "seconds later, feels like something's missing- something really important. then i realize you're there, always were, and this stupid wave of relief washes over me." a mix for vesper and johnny.

tracklist and lyrics under the cut

chainsmoking - jacob banks

it’s getting harder to breathe chainsmoking your love can’t be good for my sanity can’t be good for my lungs

dark nights - dorothy

don’t send me no angel this city’s too cold ‘cause i need a man with a black heart of gold

blackbird - the beatles

blackbird singing in the dead of night take these broken wings and learn to fly all your life you were only waiting for this moment to arise

never fade away - p.t. adamczyk

i saw in you what life was missing you lit a flame that consumed my hate i’m not one for reminiscing but i’d trade it all for your sweet embrace

apartment - bobi andonov

you can’t lie, i know how you feel about me, about me, yeah you’re nervous, tonight isn’t real but don’t we, don’t we

subtle thing - marian hill

i always see you when i’m out on the street i wanna talk and you appear on my screen dreaming like a broken record looping all you know forever

power - isak danielson

i was lost until i found me in you i saw a side of me that i was scared to but now i hear my name and i’m running your way all i feel as i get closer to you is the desire to move like you do so now i hear my name and i’m running you way

blurry - jp saxe

your lips up against my neck you whisper in my ear “don’t let go yet” and i don’t gotta know what’s next ‘cause all that i’m in are the parts of my skin touching yours

lay all your love on me - the butterfly effect

but now it isn’t true now everything is new and all i’ve learned has overturned i beg of you

madman - sam tinnesz

voices in my head turn me wicked from within something waking from the depths a madman, a madman

if i had a heart - fever ray

if i had a heart i could love you if i had a voice i’d sing after the night when i wake up i’ll see what tomorrow brings

mercy - jacob banks

i sing your lullabies your melody, like a symphony we burn the same inside a fire

do it for me - rosenfeld

give me your hand i’ll show you things you’ve never done hold my head i’ll make you feel like never before

iris - goo goo dolls

and all i can taste is this moment and all i can breathe is your life and sooner or later, it’s over i just don’t want to miss you tonight

wicked games - the hot damns

these wicked games we play kill the lights, better hold on tight out for blood better run and hide

bloodshot - dove cameron

and my friends say i’m losin’ my mind and my parents check in all the time but it’s harder to see you’re not mine with my bloodshot eyes

heaven in hiding - halsey

and when you start to look at me, a physical fatality and you surrender to the heat, you’ll know i can put on a show, i can put on a show don’t you see what you’re finding? this is heaven in hiding

obsessed - dynoro

i ran through all your veins i saw all of your visions i found all of you babe but i couldn’t find me anywhere and now i’m stuck inside of you

even if it hurts - sam tinnesz

even if it hurts even if it makes me bleed i’m gonna carry you pushing through with the dirt on my sleeves

(don’t fear) the reaper - blue öyster cult

all our times have come here but now they’re gone seasons don’t fear the reaper nor do the wind, the sun or the rain we can be like they are come on baby, don’t fear the reaper

the only living thing - adam french

won’t you lay your body down get to know me be the only living thing i care about you’re not alone when i’m around

voyeur girl - stephen

those stolen eyes can’t hide what’s underneath a lonely power no one else can see voyeur girl wanting more, more and more

slow love - tender

spend a little too much time together forgotten how to be all by ourselves could be worse, yeah, it could be better we'll stay inside beyond all others

worst in me - unlike pluto

i saw you standing there, and i knew i’m done for, it’s over, i’m through playing games from the start sinking your nails in my heart

smoke - pvris

you make your way into my veins course right through my limbs and dig you way into my brain so in the second that you walk, walk into a room i can’t help myself from that thing that you do

the drugs - mother mother

‘cause your hotter than the sun and your better than the drugs i used to love and you’re deadly like a gun yeah, you’re deadly like the drugs oh, the drugs i used to love

something to lose - dylyn

oh i’m scared, this time i really care ‘cause i’m a better me when i’m with you suddenly i got something to lose i’m just so scared, i don’t wanna tear us apart ‘cause i like how i feel when i’m with you

fear of falling asleep - tender

and as i lay here in my bed at night the only thing that’s mine is my fear of falling asleep and not waking up

my demons - starset

take me high and i’ll sing oh you make everything okay we are one and the same oh you take all of the pain away

gravity - eden

‘cause you say i drink and i smoke and i talk too much but i know you lied when you said that you just gotta go and save yourself

hallucinations - pvris

hallucinations, you occupy my imagination’s running wild new sensations, sweet temptations i can’t tell what’s real and what’s

dinner & diatribes - hozier

honey, i laugh when it sinks in a pillar i am of pride scarcely can speak for my thinking what you’d do to me tonight

artificial paradise - vlad holiday

numb me ‘til i feel emotion beat me up so i can fight for what i believe in trip me so i fall all the way up to heaven plug me in and take whatever makes me human

trouble - tender

whenever i’m alone i feel your ghost your presence is known, i already know too much what you did in your past life, it’s no business of mine i would join you and all, but i’m starting to tell we’ll be fine

bones - wens

tangle me, tangle me in your web all of me is alive ‘til i’m dead hold me close ‘til my pulse loses time i’ll be yours if you’re mine, if you’re mine

heat - l.a. rose

it’s not passion till you bleed a little for it it’s not love till you lost more than a little bit feel the heat on your neck it’s not real it’s gone and you’re no longer holding on to it if we want to get close then we’ll need to get lost in the heat of it

in flames - digital daggers

and i know your devils i know them by name when you look my way oh i’m not afraid

#cyberpunk 2077 #cp2077 #cyberpunk 2077 playlist #cp2077 playlist #johnny silverhand #johnny x v #johnny and v #time to drown myself in my feelings while i work on this fic #oc: vesper #ship: chainsmoking your love #will i be changing this up eventually? probably #but for now! i'm satisfied #edited bc we got to 37! music brain found the juice

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pies-writes-and-more · 5 years ago

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AVENGERS M A S T E R L I S T

**SERIES**

Falling Masterlist Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader // Collaboration with @wxstedhexrt // poetry focused fics! // TW: anxious thoughts, disassociation experiences and others so please read the warnings in each part! Based on poems written by the incredible Destiny of @wxstedhexrt! Bucky Barnes is falling in so many different kinds of ways - he’s falling in and out of his brain, in and out of reality, in and out of nightmares... and falling in love? Maybe this is the one he doesn’t want to fall out of.

Mr. Steve ( part 1 // part 2 ) Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader // Soulmate AU In a universe where your soulmate’s name is written on your wrist after you meet them, receiving a wedding invitation from her friend is just another reminder that (Y/N) has yet to find her soulmate. But maybe this wedding will be a little bit more exciting, with the help of a tiny child without a filter.

can’t take my mind off of you, Mr. Steve Rogers ( part 1 // part 2 // part 3 ) - COMPLETED Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader Steve Rogers and (Y/N) used to date. Emphasis on the used to. But when an important date from their relationship comes up, it stirs up some emotions too. As if to add to the fire, (Y/N) bumps into an old friend who suggests that maybe Steve’s feelings towards (Y/N) aren’t quite gone. And even though it’s hard to admit, especially because she has a new boyfriend, maybe (Y/N)’s feelings aren’t gone either.

Must’ve Been the Wind ( part 1 // part 2 // part 3 // part 4 // part 5 ) - COMPLETED Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader // Song Inspo: Must’ve Been the Wind by Alec Benjamin // requested TW: mentions of abusive relationship that (Y/N) is involved in, not too graphic in my opinion but please be wary reading if it may trigger something for you. The girl in the apartment above Bucky’s seems to be in some sort of distress, though she insists that Bucky’s just hearing things. The two bond quickly and soon enough, Bucky wants to rescue her from a situation that she insists isn’t there. Is he just hearing the wind? Or is it a cry for help?

Unlovable ( part 1 // part 2 // part 3 ) - COMPLETED Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader There’s one other person besides Steve that makes Bucky feel comfortable in the era he’s not supposed to be in. She makes him feel safe, never pushes him to do anything, and that smile always makes his stomach flip. But a situation without clear communication leaves both Bucky and (Y/N) unsure of if the other feels the same about them.

**Domestic/Homely!Steve Collection ( Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader ) :

Home After months without hearing from his wife and daughter, Steve just wants to be home. He doesn’t care if he could be hurt from his fights, he just wants to see his little girl and the woman he loves. (The beginning of my Homely!Steve Collection!)

Grocery Shopping Steve wants to help out any way he can at home since he’s gone so often. But grocery shopping without a list can be a little stressful, especially with a little mischievous girl.

A Kid’s Imagination When (Y/N) goes to pick up Sarah from school, she’s met with an odd response from the teacher about an announcement Sarah made to her classmates. Rather than talk to Steve about it, she decides to have a little fun with it.

Santa Claus Steve’s back from a long mission and all he wants to do is be with his wife and little girl. Thankfully, they’re not too far from home… and Steve has the perfect Christmas plan to surprise them.

kidnapped.... or pretzels? Steve wakes up in the dead of night to find an empty bed beside him. His mind immediately goes to the worst case scenario as to what could’ve happened to the love of his life, (Y/N).

Dance Recitals If there's one thing that Steve Rogers loves, it's watching his little girl learn how to dance. So he goes out of his way to make sure he doesn't miss too many of her practices. Now, he has to find out how to not miss her first dance recital...

** Stay tuned for more! Send in a request if you think of some cute Dad!Steve Rogers prompts!!**

**ONE SHOTS**

Dinner and a Show Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader // done for a writing challenge // prompt: “This is one of those moments when I tell you something isn’t a good idea and you ignore me, isn’t it?” The one where Steve impulsively insists on proving that Y/N’s date for the evening is trash instead of figuring out his feelings for her, meanwhile, Bucky learns that food is way overpriced lol

accidentally ruining relationships Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader Y/N spends the evening desperately looking for answers about her love life with her close friend, Bucky. Maybe the reason her relationships aren’t working out is because her heart belongs to another.

A French Kiss Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader // Alternative Universe Fic // based on a tweet Y/N came to Paris with a plan: take a photo with a cute man next to the Eiffel Tower, just like how her and cheating ex-boyfriend had always planned on doing, and make that son of a bitch jealous. Thankfully, there’s a super cute blond guy who just so happens to be nearby.

Makeshift Thanksgiving Dinner+ Steve Rogers x Fem!EastAsian!Reader Steve Rogers is beyond nervous to finally be meeting his girlfriend's parents. Especially when it's a meeting for Thanksgiving dinner... though (Y/N) neglects to mention until they're almost there that her east asian family doesn't usually have a typical 'American' Thanksgiving dinner... (Super fluffy I promise :))

Take a Hint Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader (Y/N) literally just wants to go out and have a good time with her girls. So why do guys seem to never take ‘no’ for an answer? To try to prevent more annoying encounters with men who can’t take a hint, (Y/N) slips on two rings onto her left hand and assumes the married life. It’s all well and good... until someone sees the rings as a challenge. Enter from stage right, our hero.

boardroom fantasies NSFW, 18+ only, S M U T // Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader // done for a prompt challenge // prompt: “You wanna have sex….here? Now?” Steve can’t help how tight his pants get when (Y/N) is working nearby. While everyone else goes out for drinks, he pulls her aside to show her that the Accounting Guy who keeps asking her out isn’t who she should be with.

Holiday Kiss Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader // Christmas fic Bucky is a little tired of Christmas traditions for the day but with (Y/N) around, there’s just one more tradition he’d like to give a try.

Anxiety Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader // TW: lots of anxious thoughts based on my own so be careful if this is a trigger for you! Today’s the day Steve comes back from a mission and (Y/N) is beyond excited to see him. But when you have a little Anxiety monster whispering believable nonsense in your ear, it’s hard to get out of your head.

5 ways Steve Rogers says I Love You (and 1 way he doesn’t) Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader // sad ending so if you don’t wanna be sad, don’t read the last bit lol Steve Rogers loves you and here’s just a collection of ways he shows it. But not everything has a happy ending.

Healthy Competition Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader // Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader // Sam Wilson x Fem!Reader // SURPRISE PAIRING // requested It’s not every day that the boys are all infatuated with the same human being. So when they realize they’re all falling head over heels for one girl, Steve insists some ground rules need to be laid out. Little do they know, there’s one person already that (Y/N) is swooning over.

home is a person Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader // Post inspo: “Someone asked me to describe home and I started talking about your hair colour and the sound of your voice and the taste of your lips and how your skin feels like. Until I realized they had expected to hear a place.” When asked what home was like in a conversation about their past lives, Bucky Barnes immediately thinks of something other than his 1940s home. He thinks of her.

The Waitress Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader // done for a writing challenge // song prompt: “If things get worse, will you still be here?” 405 by This Wild Life Steve Rogers has finally worked up the guts to ask out the super cute waitress at the diner he frequents… except it’s hard to ask out of a girl when you’re a) already super nervous, b) unsure if it’s rude to ask her out, and c) when you have Dumb and Dumber insisting they tag along.

Fate’s Ribbon Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader // Soulmate AU Fate ties a ribbon to every baby that’s born. It’s black to everyone else but your soulmate, who sees it as bright red. Bucky Barnes doesn’t want a soulmate, especially after becoming a completely different person than he was in the 40s. But you can’t run away from what Fate has planned for you.

Happy Moments Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader // prompt list // requested Prompts: a perfectly brewed cup of tea and dust floating in golden sunlight Steve Rogers has a few happy moments stored in his brain for when times got tough. He thinks about each of them and how they’re each a part of him. But in this moment, this place, he was happiest.

Probability Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader Steve Rogers is an insecure little bum sometimes. But he’s 75% sure that the girl of his dreams shares his affections… okay 70%…. maybe less….

Fate’s Sense of Humour Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader // Soulmate AU Everyone is born with a soulmark, generally a signature or some sort of mark to define who this person was. And when you meet your soulmate, your mark gets darker and darker. Everyone is born with this. Except Steve Rogers. He had practically given up on finding someone to be with without a soulmark, until he wakes up from the ice to find a faded grey signature on his arm.

Jealous (Strong) Steve Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader // requested Steve Rogers, the man behind the shield, knows that his strength only came from an injection. He isn’t a Norse god, how could he compete against Thor who seems to have all of (Y/N)’s affections? Steve Rogers is a jealous man. A strong jealous man who just keeps breaking things.

Studying Anatomy Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader // requested Steve loves his girlfriend very much, so when she practically begs for him to help her study for her anatomy test, how can he say no?

Young But Sure Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader // requested Sometimes people have different wants for their future. Sometimes their future includes a pet, sometimes it doesn’t. Sometimes people want to live in the country, and some just want to live in the middle of the city. Steve Rogers wants kids… and he assumed that his girlfriend did too.

Nosebleeds Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader A Stark Industries tradition was that every year, interns, agents, admins, and all the Avengers were asked to join in on a volleyball tournament. And every year (Y/N)’s team wins. She expected to have some fierce competition from the Captain’s team… she expected wrong.

Coming Home Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader No matter how long he was gone, (Y/N) always slept on the couch when Steve was away on missions so she could be the first thing he saw when he came back. Steve is happy to be home with the girl he loves.

Kiss (* Endgame Spoilers *) Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader He just looked so hot, the fire in his eyes, ready to fight. (Y/N) just can’t help herself, she just needs a kiss before they go off to their potential deaths.

Blue Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader Steve in blue is too much to handle whilst sober, (Y/N) decides. So while attending Tony Stark’s birthday party, (Y/N) doesn’t stop to drink her anxiety away making for entertaining company for Steve.

Pizza and the Medical Student Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader // College Roommates AU // requested (Y/N) just wants to study for her final. Steve wants to keep her happy. Bucky wants them to just admit their goddamn feelings for each other already.

**Super Cringy-ish Older Fics I Wrote that I Don’t Have Good Summaries For**

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tommodirection · 4 years ago

Text

Miss You More

Louis Tomlinson x Singer! Reader

Masterlist

Word Coung: 2.5k

Warnings: swearing, death, cancer, mentions of death

Disclaimer: Miss You More is an actual song that I wrote, and it isn’t published or anything, but it’s one I wrote about the loss of my grandfather, and so I may link it here if I feel like it so you know what the song is and what it’s about, there are just a few words you’d have to change, but anyways!

A/N: Heylo! I’m going to be honest with you, this is not my favorite thing I’ve ever written, and it’s a little corny, and poorly worded, but eh. It’s one am, I’m going to sleep after this! Anyways, I hope y’all enjoy! Thank you, and have a nice day!

——————

Ever since you were a child, you knew you wanted to sing.

It all started with your mum. When you were little, she’d always sing to you, every night before you went to bed.

Soon enough, you began singing back to her, and she loved every second of it.

You sang together every chance you got, singing in the car, in the house, at parties, even when you walked the dog together through your neighborhood.

She had encouraged you to make a YouTube channel for your music, knowing you’d make it big. At first, you were hesitant, not confident enough to post your voice on the internet, but you finally agreed weeks later.

You mostly did covers at first. Of course, your 14-year-old self didn’t know what she was doing. All she knew was that she was doing something she loved.

About a year after making the channel, you began making custom content. You learned to play the guitar and you’d use it almost every second. You took it everywhere. Well, everywhere you knew you’d be able to show off.

The songs were mostly about crushes and school and friends, the main things circling around your life at the time.

But it all changed when you were sixteen.

It was no secret your mother had cancer. She had since you were little, yet she had kept fighting it, succeeding for a few years.

The doctors had said she was getting better, on her way to becoming cured, well, as cured as she could be.

But out of nowhere, it plunged. She was coughing up blood, and could barely stand, needing assistance to go the bathroom. It just kept getting worse.

One of the worst parts of losing your mum was the fact that it was the holiday season, ruining the time of year for your family for years to come.

You remembered her final day alive. She was laying in the hospital bed, lips chapped and all colored drained from her face. Her lips were bloodied as well, reminisce of the blood she had hacked up minutes ago.

Your father and siblings were there beside her. Your father held your little brother, he was four at the time, and your younger sister was standing next to you, she was twelve. Alex didn’t fully understand what was happening, he just knew his mum wasn’t well, and he mostly hid his face in your father’s shoulder.

Morgan, however, understood exactly what was happening, and she was crying beside you. She was trying her best to hold back, maintaining a straight stance and trying to hide her shaking hands. You watched as tears flooded down her face, making small wet patches on the sheets.

You looked at your mum, studying her. She had done so much for all of you, but there was nothing you could do for her as she layed in the bed, motionless, save for her eyes, darting between all of you.

You knew how much singing meant to your mother, and so you did the only thing you knew you could do. You sang.

Her favorite holiday song was Silver Bells, so you started the song, your family soon joining in. Your mother smiled gratefully at all of you.

She joined in towards the chorus, her voice still weak, but just as beautiful as when you first heard it.

Those were your last moments with your mother.

She passed away hours later, the anticipated news crushing your family.

You had all slept together that night, knowing you couldn’t be apart. Alex didn’t know what had happened, and you knew your father couldn’t handle it, so you had stepped in, trying to explain to the boy that his mum was gone, and she wasn’t coming back.

—

After she passed, you had stopped uploading to your channel, getting emotional every time you even tried singing.

But months later, you had decided not to give up. Instead, you chose to move forward. You started writing again.

The song you were writing was about your mother, it seemed fitting. You knew no amount of words could ever sum up your relationship with her, nor your grief, but you tried your best in the song.

You had spent a few months writing the song, not it a rush. You were pouring your heart into this song, and if it was rushed, you knew it’d have no meaning, just some words with a few riffs thrown in.

A few days after your seventeenth birthday, you uploaded the video onto your account, the first video uploaded since your mother had died.

After uploading it, you decided to turn your computer off for the night. You knew how obsessive you got with checking your feedback, you normally refreshed the page until your fingers were sore.

Instead, you walked into the kitchen, guitar forgotten. You hadn’t shared the song with your family yet, and you knew you needed to do acapella, it was much more fitting.

You were scared of how they were going to react, especially your dad and Morgan.

Immediately after finishing the song, Morgan tackled you in a hug, burying her head in your shoulder, “Thank you,” she mumbled and you pelt tears pricking your eyes.

Your dad stood, his hand over his mouth. Alex was sitting at the table, eating his cereal. You waited in silence for a few moments, waiting for your dad to say something, but nothing.

Alex interrupted the silence, “That’s the first time I’ve heard you sing in a while, sissy,” he said, a wide grin. You don’t know where your family would be without Alex. He knew exactly how to light up a whole room, he knew how to make people feel better.

“I know, bud,” you smiled and he gave you a toothy grin, turning back to his cereal.

You dad finally let out a small, choked sob, “I miss her so much,” he said, opening his arms. You quickly collapsed in them. He was the one you wanted approval from the most.

“I do too, Dad,” you whispered.

—

Years later, you found yourself at Triple Strings Record Label.

A man sat in front of you, shuffling through some papers at his desk. He sighed loudly, and shoved the papers aside, giving you his full attention, “So, miss L/N, we’ve heard some of your work, and were quiet big fans,” he said, folding his hands in front of him.

“Thank you,” you smiled nervously, and he glanced at the clock.

“Well, my name is Bryan, Bryan Detreon. I’m an agent here for all the upcoming stars in the music industry, although I can’t take credit for finding you, that goes to the creator of the label himself,” he chuckled and you froze.

“Wait, the owner as in, like, Louis Tomlinson?” You asked, suddenly sitting up in your chair.

Of course you knew who Louis Tomlinson was. You were a year younger than him, grew up with him on the screen and on the radio.

He let out a small laugh, “Yeah, as in Louis Tomlinson, he found you personally and requested you be brought in. He’s offering you a contract, I’ve emailed it to you, but I’d like to go over it now, just to point out some things! Now, he said to take as much time as you needed to decide. You can have a lawyer look over this if you’d like, and just back to us when you have an answer! Although, he’d probably prefer to have it before the beginning of his tour! Oh yeah! He wants you as his one opening act!” He finished, pushing a copy of the document towards you.

You took a second to process what he had said, and when you finally had. You nearly fell out of your chair. “He wants me to open for him?!”

“Yup,” he continued as if it were nothing. “Now, in the first section…” you tuned him out, you’d read it at home.

Louis fucking Tomlinson wanted you to open for him. How were you supposed to say no? Your dream come true, after years of posting on YouTube and going to school to study music, hoping someone would find you, and it had all led to this.

Twenty-six years of your life, all leading up to this moment.

“Any questions?” Bryan asked, locking eyes with your

You quickly shook your head, gathering your stuff and standing up. “Nope, thank you so much for this opportunity, I will definitely look it over and email you as soon as I know! Thank you!” You rambled, and ran out the door, trying to rush home.

“I got fucking signed!” You screamed into the empty household. You had your own place, but you felt the need to run to your family’s home to share the news.

Your dad walked in from the kitchen, Alex trailing behind him. Alex was fourteen now, which now meant he was starting to call horn father out on his bullshit, not that there was much.

“Welcome home to you too,” your Dad teased, and Alex looked up, his face instantly lighting up. He ran and wrapped his arms around you, he was beginning to tower over you.

“I missed you,” he grumbled, trying to hide his face.

You laughed and patted his back, “I missed you too bud.”

“What’s this about being signed?” Morgan strolled into the room, she was still living at home, finishing her last semester of university. She had grown into a beautiful woman, looking almost identical to your mother.

“Right! So, I got a call and email about an interview, and it said to meet at the Sony label here, and to go to the Triple String label office! I get there, and the guy tells me that they’re huge fans and want me to sign a contract with them! Turns out, LOUIS FUCKING TOMLINSON WANTS ME TO OPEN FOR HIM!” You screamed, not caring about the neighbors.

Morgan swooped you into a hug, you hated being the shortest. “Aw, my big sis is going to be a pop star!”

—

Months later, you stood backstage, picking at your sleeve. You glanced behind the curtain and saw hundreds of people standing and an endless chatter.

It was your first show of the tour, you had rehearsed hundreds of times, but that did nothing to settle your nerves.

Louis only had one opening act. You. You were all the crowd got before him, so you had to impress them.

You felt someone grab your waist from behind, as you nearly jumped out of your skin. You heard a small giggle in response, recognizing the voice.

You turned to playfully glare at Louis, your boyfriend of four months. You had bonded during rehearsals, and bonded over your similar life experiences, and soon enough, you had begun dating.

Only a handful of people knew, his family, and the crew on tour with you. You weren’t prepared to tell your family yet.

“What are you lookin at?” He asked, wrapping an arm around you. You rested your head on his chest.

“Just looking at the crowd, it’s huge,” you mumbled and he pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

“It’ll be alright, they’ll love you,” he assured, and you smiled at him, grateful for his company.

“Thank you Lou,” you went to give him a proper kiss, but you were interrupted by the stage manager, telling you it was time for you to get in your position.

You quickly waved Louis goodbye, and ran to your platform under the stage, the one that you’d be rising up on in seconds.

They gave you a countdown, and a crew member handed you a mic.

On one, they hauled you up, your hand already in their places.

You were met with a roar of cheers and applause as you surfaced, singing one of your most popular songs, ‘Don’t Start With Me Now,’ written about an old, toxic, best friend.

It was thrilling, hearing the people singing your lyrics back to you, you were shocked they knew them. Being on stage gave you adrenaline you’d never experienced before, and soon, all your nerves flooded away.

As you finished your song, you heard the crowd erupted into cheers, whistles being scattered throughout the crowd. Monologue time.

“Hey guys!” You greeted. “My name is Y/N L/N, and I have been chosen by the honorable host, Louis Tomlinson, to open the show up for you guys! I won’t be up here for long, just enough time to play a few more songs, but don’t worry, I’ll be back soon enough!” You hinted, the crowd screaming in response.

You played through all of the songs you’d written, well, except for one. You hadn’t played Miss You More yet, there was a surprise to come later on.

You gave a farewell to the audience, and stepped off stage, the hair and make-up people touching you up before you could even regain your footing.

Louis didn’t particularly like breaks, so the second you were off the platform, he was getting on.

You stood by, waiting for your cue.

The stage manager nodded, and you stepped onto the platform, your dress changed into a skirt and a nice blouse, courtesy of the costume department.

“Now, I have a special guest here to be with me on stage tonight. We both lost our mothers, when they were both remarkably young, and both to cancer. We’ve both written songs about it, and we thought we’d make a mash-up for you guys tonight!” He exclaimed, and the crowd's cheers nearly popped your ear.

Your platform began moving up, revealing you to the crowd. The cheers echoed through the stadium, and you smiled, waving at them, taking your place beside Louis.

You were counted in, and your mashup of Two of Us and Miss You More began. It was one of your favorite things you’d ever taken part in creating, having input from both you and Louis, not just some producers telling you what to do. This was all you.

The last chords of the song bellowed throughout the stadium. The audience’s cries and shouts of praise filled the room once again.

You looked over at Louis, who was busy admiring the crowd, his blue eyes lit up, a genuine smile on his face. It was at this moment that you realized something; you were in love with this man.

His eyes finally caught yours, and he gestured to the crowd, who was still burning as bright as before.

You smiled and whispered, “I love you.”

You knew Louis had gotten great and lip readings he had basically mastered it.

He quickly out his mic back on the stand and pulled you into a hug, leaning down to say something into your ear, just loud enough so you could hear, “I love you too.”

—

The next day, Louis was pulled into an interview before you headed to the next location. The questions were pretty simple ones, mostly openers for him to promote the movie, but there was one question at the end that made you both smile.

“What song did you fall in love to?”

You knew the answer.

A/N: Let me know if you wanna be added to my permanent taglist! Just send an ask or a message!

Permanent Taglist: @everything-is-alrightt

#louis tomlinson fanfiction #louis tomilson #louis tomlinson x reader #louis tommo #louis tomlinson #two of us #fanfic #i’m bored #sorry for being depressing #one direction x reader #one direction

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deakydeaky · 4 years ago

Note

HC of you meeting of of the boys(preferably Ben or Joe) before COVID and when it hit you stayed with them because you were far from home. Is this too much? Btw I love your posts and just want you to post more again 💀

How it started:

You were traveling around a lot before it was finally after the holidays

You were in New York, staying in a hotel when the news about COVID was getting big

In your final days you were going to a shop everyday, just to grab what you needed for the day

That’s when you ran into Joe. You knew you knew him from somewhere but didn’t say anything until you saw him there the next day

“Are you stalking me?” You would ask as you grabbed a bag of chips. He would let out a loud laugh as he looked at you

“Yeah actually, what gave it away?” People sworned around them.” This is crazy huh?”

“Yeah, I gotta get home soon if this keeps up.”

“Or stay in New York? Maybe run into each other before we turn into zombies?” He joked. “Totally.” You would agree and leave it at that

You two saw each other a few more times and gave flirty smiles through out the week and some small talk. He told him about his place and you talked about where you lived

A few days later when you realized that things weren’t going to get better you packed your bags. You first stopped at the shop to grab a few things because you didn’t know what the airport could be like

When you walked in, you saw Joe with a big shopping cart

“Oh my god, I totally started the zombie apocalypse.” Joe said when he saw you

“I won’t tell if you don’t.” You told him as you walked down the isle

“Are you going to be comfortable staying in a hotel?” You would give him a weird look. “I’m heading to the airport.” You told him with a laugh. “All of the airports shut down. No flights anywhere right now.”

“Oh my god. Oh my god.” You would start to call every hotel as Joe was checking out. Everything seemed to be booked or they were taking anyone new. How caught you outside as you stood by the cab, calling places

“You okay?”

“Everything is booked, Damnit!” Joe would hate to see it. “S-stay with me.” You gave him a look. “You could be a murderer.” You told him before he laughed. “I’m not and I’m serious. You can’t be on the streets right now and I have another room. And I think I have more reason to be worried, get in the cab crazy.”

You stayed in the guest bedroom, and even alone you felt awkward. You thought you should just try to call someone willing to drive all of the way to get you but you couldn’t ask anyone to do that and you didn’t think they would

The next morning you woke up to him pouring coffee. As he gave it to you and started small talk you stopped him.

“Stop. This is super nice but weird. I will call someone and leave. I- I think I should leave but this is great. If you start a bed and breakfast I will def give a good Yelp review.” He would laugh at you.

“Please don’t. Just stay until something opens up and you can safely be on a flight or a hotel. It could be fun. You could tel you kids about it one day or something. I swear I’m not a creep and I really would feel bad if I left you ok your own.”

Staying:

You called your family and told them you were staying with a friend and to not worry

It was awkward at first because either of you knew how to be comfortable with the other but it got better

Making breakfast for each other, being a good house guest, watching a few movies together a week, all around stuff

After two weeks of being in a house together, you thought it time to know each other and started to cook dinner. But horriblely messed up and Joe called his mom for cooking tips

“Mom I’m not joking, no she didn’t add water.” You blushed heavily as he talked to her. He ended up cooking for you which made you feel even worse

“Why were you cooking anyways?” He questioned. “I wanted to be something nice. We’ve been in the same house now for two weeks straight and I don’t know you. You could still be a murderer.”

“I’m an actor actually, pretty sure you knew that. I’m a Virgo, I play bass-“

“And you like long walks on the beach? Real stuff Joe! Also, I guessed Virgo, your earth sign energy is crazy, what’s your moon?”

“I- I don’t know. Ask me something then, anything.”

“Do you like coffee?”

“You crossed the line.” He told you, making you both laugh

Through out quarantine:

Going through 2020 together was the most chaotic thing that happens to you

Watching just about every show on Netflix

Everyday something worse happens you two take a shot and then put a tally on a peice of paper

Having 2020 bingo cards, literally

Ordering a lot of games to pass time

Making bets about what next month will hold

Getting to know Joe in weird ways

Having to explain to where you work that you’re now working from New York

Joe being the most chill person, even with the things that are happening

Him trying to make the days better

Joking about separation anxiety with each other but lowkey if one of you goes to the store for too long the other ones is worried

“What day is it?”

“Thursday.” Joe would question everything he’s done all week but can’t remember a single thing

Becoming rather close and very chaotic

“This is everything we need to do after it’s over.” You would tell him

“An aquarium?”

“Well it’s that or we could get high and watch Jaws, your choice.”

“I’m glad we aren’t those people that go on walks and zoom with their families, that’d make us seem way to normal.”

Trying your best to pass the time, April and May being the worse

Getting a lot of little arguments

“You called me a child when I bought them, and then you took HALF!” You would yell

“You’re fighting with me about this?”

“Yes because you made fun of me. You either get more or we fist fight.”

Neither of you know how to shop for food in the beginning because everything was being taken from the shelves

“You bought two packs of energy drinks?”

“Everyone was taking the water and soda, I had to act fast.”

Catching yourself falling for him

How could you not? He took you in, cooks dinner, helps ease your pandemic anxiety

Him being the biggest goof

“Joe, it’s 1am, I’m not making a fort with you.”

“Why not?”

When the summer came you two held out hope for better things to come but they just seemed worse

Meeting the boys over zoom

“Sorry, we’ve all been really surprised when we heard the story. It’s very Joe but we were scared some weird things would happen.”

“Yeah, I don’t watch him sleep or anything like that.”

“Really? I’m a beautiful sleeper.”

Making him tea

Hearing him over sing in the shower

After the summer with numbers rising again, going home seemed like a dream

You didn’t want to risk your family getting sick but staying with Joe more seemed too much

Wishing you had met at another time because it seemed too weird to make a move. You were getting almost a middle school feeling crush. This ended up in a debate with yourself, talking about pros and cons and leaving and all of the things you have wanted to say since March

“You can do this. You are a strong woman, you are to the point and the worst thing he could say is no and that’s okay, you’re still that bitch.”

“Who’s saying no?” Joe asked you as he came in

“No one, maybe you, I don’t know, wanna watch a movie?” Joe would look at you as you stood awkwardly.” Don’t look at me like that.”

“What’s happening right now.”

“I’m sorry, it’s not you. It is but it’s like your fault but I also have some blaming but you did it.” Joe would nod his head, trying to make sense of anything that was happening.” I have developed, a sorry of, very tiny and minor, crush. That I’m sure it just because another man hasn’t looked at me since March but at the same time I think it’s because you’re a really great person and now I’ve made this awkward and we won’t talk about it ever again.”

“A crush?” “I just said we won’t talk about it.”

It worked out because he ended up liking you back but it was definitely weird for a little

You two felt more in the way or each other than living together

But after a few weeks you two realized how weird you were being and figured out it was nothing

“Trump got COVID.” “Shots?” “Yep!”

As you two were drinking you looked at each other and laughed, spitting the drinks everywhere.

“Wanna order in? Act like this week didn’t happen?”

“Yeah.”

Felt like you were living out a literal movie

Making the best of 2020 although it was weird

Dating:

The same as before but now it’s this new part of Joe

He’s more romantic but still funny and himself

Having “date nights” once a week. That just meant he would light candles and turn the lights out and pretend it was a fancy restaurant

Finding out a lot about each other

Him telling his family about you and how it’s been with you. Making you freak out a lot on the inside

The boys all telling him they were calling it

“You can’t just threaten to lock yourself in the bathroom just because I said I didn’t want pasta tonight.”

“Watch me!”

Still tiny agruments but nothing serious, ever

“It doesn’t matter why! He just did!”

“Then where did the hammer go when he left! He took it with him but when he came back old all he had was the shield!”

Planning out where you two would travel next

You two having the weirdest comfort level with each other

Talking about what would have happened between you two of the pandemic didn’t happen

Game nights becoming twice as better now that you’re both more comfortable with each other

Making both of your guys friends join a zoom to play with

Flipping coins to see who makes dinner

Whenever you don’t eat what he makes he always threatens to never cook again

“Have peanut butter and jelly everyday, I don’t care. You’re missing a real Italian man right now!” He said, coping an accent

Coping each other all of the time just to see what the other one will do

Having the most fun you’ve ever had with him, even with you two stuck in a house

Realizing the a pandemic made you find the love of your life

#Joe mazzello #joe mazzello headcannon #joe mazzello headcanon #joe mazzello imagine #joe mazzello x reader

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cloudshapedpatch · 4 years ago

Text

Bells and Whistles

Happy Holidays @ghostlyhamburger, I’m your Lovesquare Obsessed Secret Santa! I hope you enjoy this very indulgent soulmate au 💚🌸

* * * *

Music. It’s all around, and yet, it never gets old. How? How does an arrangement of notes and sounds create wonderful music capable of bringing deep joy and sadness?

Everyone knows people love music. Archeologists always seem to be finding older and simpler instruments used by early humankind. People just love to create their own sounds, if not for their own enjoyment, or perhaps to attempt to share the songs in their heads with others.

For Marinette, it was no different than everyone else. Her song. The leitmotif that seemed to always play in her head. And she could not get it to be quiet. Just once, she wished to take a school test and be able to focus on her paper, and not the wispy bells meant only for her own ears.

It was a nice melody, and the universe had made it just for her (and for her soulmate, but she wasn’t too concerned with this fact at the moment). She never grew tired of it, thank kwami, but it also meant she could never go very long without hearing it. And how the universe loved to play the tune in the least convenient times.

30 chimes of bells.

What is the circumference of a circle that has a diameter of 8 inches?

30 chimes of bells.

What’s 8 times pi?

30 damned chimes of bells.

Marinette let her head drop onto her desk, letting the lone bells play out a couple more times. She only resumed her math test once it seemed it was done.

Thus was a normal occurrence for most people. It still annoyed her.

Her teacher gave Marinette a sympathetic look as she handed in her completed test, bells still ringing in her head.

“Why don’t you just go look for your soulmate?” Alya had suggested one night as they watched a movie.

“I don’t wanna rush it.” Marinette had lied a little too easily for her liking.

“You know if you do, your tune will get beautifuller and—”

“And I’ll get to control when I hear it, yeah yeah.” Marinette tossed a few unpopped popcorn kernels at Alya, a wide smile on her face. “And beautifuller isn’t a word.”

“Whatever!” Alya had laughed then, a really joyous, belly-shaking laugh. As they continued to watch their movie, Marinette could tell Alya was playing her own symphony in her head (she always smiled like the biggest love-sick goofball).

Alya was among the lucky few who found her soulmate quite young. It always brought a smile to Marinette’s face when the young couple spoke of the day they realized. Although, Marinette always had to swallow her pride because she couldn’t let anyone know she was the one who had locked them in that fateful zoo cage.

Speaking of, Alya was leading Marinette out of the classroom, saying something about the test, but Marinette didn’t hear her. She was too busy with her own thoughts about songs and soulmates.

Surprisingly, Nino was the first to notice Marinette’s dazed state. His ‘You good?’ was accompanied with a familiar smile; the one that told her she had missed everything he had said.

Marinette blinked her thoughts away. “Yeah! Yeah, just thinking. What’s up?”

“Alya and I were saying we were gonna play UMS 3 at my house, wanna come make it a tournament?”

Marinette’s sudden perfect posture didn’t go unnoticed by either of the other teens. “Sorry, I have some family things tonight. You know how Thursdays are…”

“Right!” Alya punctuated the word with a snap. “Thursdays are family nights. Funny, Adrien said the same thing.”

Nino got an elbow to his side for snickering at Marinette’s blush, but it couldn’t be helped. They bade goodbye and went their separate ways.

The chilly December air stung her heated cheeks, eliciting a breath of thanks that she lived close to the school. In truth, Marinette’s family didn’t have family nights. Thursdays were allotted for Chat Noir’s visits.

He came every Thursday, without fail, at 9pm sharp. Why? No one had any clue. Her parents always cooked for four those nights to be sure he had food (They learned early on he didn’t get much to eat. This concerned Marinette deeply, not only as his partner but also as his soulmate). She supposed the saying was true, ‘feed a cat once and they will return’. He hadn’t stopped visiting ever since she offered him a cookie one otherwise-normal Thursday night about 4 months ago.

Tonight was no different. He knocked on her balcony window at 9 o’clock on the dot, he came down and ate his plate of food, and Marinette beat him at video games with her parents.

It was only when they had gone back up to her attic room that the night turned south.

Chat was hovering over her shoulder as she sketched a dress, excitedly giving her suggestions. Sometimes they were good, other times… not (memories of the awful purple and orange clown jumper threatened to surface).

Marinette had started to hum whilst she drew. Chat was playing with her hair and whispering encouragement, and all was well.

“Whatcha humming?” He murmured, barely audible above the sound of pencil on paper.

“Hm?” His hands had frozen in her hair, the lack of movement causing a lull in her train of thought. She blinked hard as if to will her thoughts back. “Oh, just a little tune. Should I put a flower or a bow here?”

“A bow, for sure.”

As she sketched the bow on the dress’ bodice, she hummed a little louder for Chat to hear.

And he hummed the last few notes with her.

Before she could comprehend how he knew the tune, she could hear a piano in her head, playing a sweet little harmony with jazzy drums. The familiar sound of ethereal bells played the melody she knew too well. It felt as if she were surrounded by a thousand magical whistles, carrying her up and away to the clouds. And based on the look in Chat’s eyes as he spun her chair to look at her, he was hearing it too.

Damn it.

She would have gotten emotional if she wasn’t filled with terror. Finding your soulmate was supposed to be an important event in one’s life. For Marinette, now it was another secret under her hat.

He was whispering her name, eyes sparkling and the most endearing smile on his face and why is he looking at me like that? say something, anything! to get him to stop!

“Wow it’s late, time flies, you know?” She cringed at her abnormally high voice, playing off the flinch as a yawn. “I should go to bed, haha.”

Her cheeks twitched with the effort to keep the fake smile as he just stood there, staring at her, an unreadable expression on his face.

And then she was in his arms as he carried her up to bed, eyes large and kind. He set her down gently before giving a two-finger salute and jumping through her balcony window. She felt the mattress bounce slightly from his weight. Too late, she registered his parting words to her, goodnight princess.

With a pillow secured to her face, she screamed.

“Marinette! Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Tikki. Just overwhelmed.” She threw the pillow down onto her knees.

“You don’t look fine.”

Neither did Tikki, if Marinette was being honest. She looked just as worried as she felt.

“I just… the ladybug and black cat miraculous are always soulmates, so I wanted Chat’s soulmate to be Ladybug, not Marinette. That makes sense, right?”

“Yes! And it was a great idea, but the universe has its own plans, and you can’t override them.”

“I know! It’s just that— I was planning— I didn’t want Marinette to be associated with Chat Noir. It’s too risky! What if people connect the dots? What if— oh no, Tikki! What if Plagg told Chat Noir about the soulmates? What if Chat Noir knows I’m Ladybug?!”

“Deep breaths, Marinette. It’s gonna be okay! I really don’t think Plagg would have told him, he’s really not fond of romance, he thinks it’s mushy.”

Marinette took a few moments to focus on her breathing, but Tikki’s unsure face didn’t calm her nerves any.

“I can go talk to Plagg if you want. And if Chat Noir really does know who you are, then we can work it all out! You make the rules now Marinette, you don’t have to choose a new partner unless you want to.”

The thought of her identity being known made her sick, but she tried to sleep anyway. A night of good rest would help her think more clearly, right?

She couldn’t help but let the song play out a few times more before she finally dozed off, only for it to echo in her sleep.

* * * *

If Marinette had been paying attention, she would have seen Adrien hovering nearby like the confused, enamoured puppy that he was. She would have noticed his lingering gaze, his soft smile. She would have noticed his internal debate over whether to say hello.

(Everyone else noticed; everyone except the object of his affections.)

Alas, she was too preoccupied with her increasing anxiety. She wasn’t sure when Tikki had left her purse, but she had checked ten minutes ago only to find she was missing. Her foot tapped at the floor at irregular intervals, matching the beat of the song in her heart (Jazz was the worst possible genre to pace her life, but then again, when was she ever regularly spaced?).

She played the whistling song in her head once more, too tired to fight her smile. She could have a much worse soulmate, that was for sure. Who wouldn’t want a sweet, considerate, objectively handsome if she really let herself think about it—

A nudge against her side let her know Tikki had phased into her purse. Almost too hastily, she excused herself to the washroom.

“So? What’s the verdict? I haven’t been able to focus all day!” She whispered, having been too anxious to wait for the door to close behind her.

“I’m so sorry, Marinette.”

Another wave of anxiety. Marinette took a shaky breath in. “What do you mean?”

Tikki’s little hands wrung each other dry as she spoke. “There was a miscommunication between Plagg and Chat Noir, and he knows you’re Ladybug now.”

Her charge slid to the floor by the sinks before her feet could give out completely. He knew? How could this have happened?

She fought the urge to cover her face and cringe. What now?

The door pushed in, Alya successfully interrupting her thoughts.

“Marinette! You okay?”

“Yeah!” Faster than a zip of her yo-yo, her hands flew to the hem of her pink jeans. “Just re-cuffing my jeans. What’s up?”

Alya gave Marinette a quirky sort-of look before shaking her head in amusement. “Miss Bustier wanted me to come get you. We’re starting the holiday party!”

“Let’s get going then!” Marinette locked arms with Alya as they walked out. If neither girl talked about the odd scene, perhaps they would both forget.

The party went well, the shiny menorah and shamash reflecting the small tree’s lights in dazzling patterns on the walls. The atmosphere was pleasant, the treats shared were delicious, and their White Elephant gift exchange went very well. The stuffed dinosaur she made ended up with Rose, and Marinette gratefully accepted a new oversized hat from Nino.

Adrien had caught her eyes a few times too many for her own comfort. It felt almost wrong to be thinking only of her partner while searching Adrien’s eyes for hidden meaning. She took his warm gaze and soft smile with a grain of salt, then turned her mind away to think of Chat Noir’s soft, affectionate gaze and his broad, warm smile that never failed to make her grin in return. For some reason, Adrien’s smile made Marinette want to listen to Chat’s song.

All too soon, the party came to a close. She bade her goodbyes, wished her friends a happy holiday break, and started to walk home in the early minutes of dusk. A fun day of sweet treats and party games left her heart warm and content. The soft tinkling of street lamps illuminating all around her brought a small spread of euphoria in her chest. Shadows danced in the corners of her eyes, drawing her gaze up to the rooftops, where her favorite pair of inhuman green eyes peered back at her. Chat leapt across the buildings in front of her, just enough to stop and look back for a moment as she walked.

Her stomach churned as they locked eyes. Feet glued to the pavement, she stared up at him, waiting for him to… well, she wasn't sure what she was waiting for. He was just looking at her, perched up four stories above her, head tilted.

Oh, she thought belatedly, he wants to talk.

With a small burst of resolution, she gave him a smile before willing her feet to move towards her house. By now the sun had set and the sky was gradually turning dark, a deep ocean encouraging her escape. As much as she longed to fall into the stars and float away, she also found herself giddy with excitement.

Their shared symphony played in her head as she opened the door to her home and excused herself upstairs, the melody almost unbidden, but she knew in her heart she had been longing to allow herself to enjoy it again.

Although, feeling ready for the next chapter of life was different than turning the page itself. There was sure to be shaky hands and stuttered words, confusion and maybe a little more bittersweet than she’d like, but, little did she know, there was going to be acceptance, overpowering emotions, tears, and many long hugs (and perhaps a few kisses), but that was life.

Besides, with her soulmate and partner by her side, she could do anything.

* * * *

Also! I may have gotten a little carried away and composed the leitmotif and the soulmate song as well~! You can listen to it here :)

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