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dreamerstreamer · 3 years

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Human GPS

Pairing: c!Technoblade x f!reader

Summary: [Dream SMP!AU] Technoblade really needs some books of mending, and you just happen to be the daughter of the village cleric.

Word Count: 3.8k

A/N: this a repost of the first ever story i posted when i first made my blog. this story takes place back when technoblade was still allied with pogtopia. i hope you like it as much as i did! <3

Technoblade blinked, his eyes squinting up at the clear, cerulean sky. It was about midday now, and the beating sun sat in the center of the sky, almost taunting him from where it hung.

If the sun is directly above me, he thought, then west must be… He frowned. Somewhere. Maybe.

He groaned and swung his legs off of Carl, the horse letting out a soft whinny as he hopped onto the ground. He had been travelling for what must have been close to an hour now, and he still hadn’t found a village. It was almost like the universe was trying to waste his time. All he wanted was to get his hands on some books of mending so he didn’t have to worry about any of his armour breaking, yet the world was sending him on a wild goose chase, anyways.

“Seriously,” he muttered, irritation gnawing away at his already dwindling patience, “how hard can it be to find just one cleric? It’s not like I’m asking to find a woodland mansion, or something.”

Letting out yet another long groan, Technoblade flipped open the pack he attached to Carl’s saddle. He pulled out a baked potato and bit in, allowing himself a few seconds of relief as he ate.

For a brief moment, he considered digging through his bag to look for a compass or—better yet—a map. But then he remembered that just prior to leaving, he had reminded himself that he was a human GPS and that “Technoblade never fails.”

He sighed. No compass, it is.

He took another bite of the potato in his hands, looking around at the terrain around him. There was a lush birch forest to his left and a barren desert on the opposite side. Just a little to his right was a river and—

Wait a second.

Technoblade froze, his jaw freezing halfway through chewing another bite of potato.

He recognized that river.

A wide grin split across his lips.

He totally knew where to find a village.

Doing his best not to choke, Technoblade stuffed the rest of the baked potato in his mouth and buckled his pack shut. With a grunt, he pulled himself back onto Carl, picking up the reins. “Like I said, Carl, who even needs a compass? I’ve got the map memorized, and my inner compass is perfectly calibrated.”

Carl looked back at him and let out an almost sarcastic sounding neigh that seemed to say, “Sure.”

Technoblade’s face rolled his eyes. He snapped the reins once, and Carl charged forward.

The human GPS never failed.

You let out an ecstatic cry as you pushed the last book in your hands onto the creaky bookshelf, stepping back to look at your work in pride. You’d been organizing the library for a little over half the day now, and you were almost finished. Each shelf was now in alphabetical order.

Dusting off your skirt, you took one last glance at the shelves before settling down at the table in the corner of the room, looking over the to-do list you had set out for yourself the night before. “Let’s see,” you hummed to yourself, “I already dusted all the tabletops, mopped the floor, and delivered that order to Mr. Hart. Now I can check ‘organize bookshelves’ off the list, too.”

You set the quill down on the table. “Meanwhile, dad’s out trading with Mrs. Lee and said he would be back soon.” You stared down at the page for a moment longer before sighing. A frown etched itself onto your features. You leaned your elbows on the oak tabletop as your gaze trailed out the church window and up at the cloudless sky.

You had lived in the village your whole life with your father, the village cleric. Everything was peaceful and you loved the familiar environment you resided in, but things had also become so… boring in the village. So bland, so dull. You can’t even remember the last time you did something fun. Sure, you were productive and made sure to help your father around his workspace the best you could, but you wanted more than this.

Please, you thought to yourself, squeezing your eyes shut in a silent prayer. Please, please, please let something new and exciting happen. At least just once in my life.

All of a sudden, you heard a distant rumbling.

You sat up straight, blinking awake from your reverie. What’s that sound?

The rumbling grew louder, and you could now recognize it as the galloping of a horse. Your thoughts were only confirmed by the loud whinny you heard right after the rumbles stopped.

You pushed your chair back, standing up from the table and walking over to the front window, crouching down to peek outside. You squinted, your eyes scanning around outside before they landed on an unfamiliar shape.

Your heart suddenly barrelled over in your chest.

Sitting atop a horse wearing diamond armour in the center of the village square was a stranger.

His back was facing you, but from what you could see of him, the first thing you noticed was the crimson robe hanging off his shoulders, cascading down his back like a scarlet waterfall. An axe was strapped to his back, tinted with a murky, violet hue. His hair was a vibrant shade of cherry blossom pink like nothing you had ever laid eyes on before, and on his head sat a golden crown encrusted with glittering gems. You wondered what his face looked like, curiosity bubbling in your chest.

Just then, he slid off his horse, landing on the ground with a small thump. He stood tall and proud, turning his head this way and that as he looked around at the houses around him, an air of regality surrounding him.

Then, he turned.

Your eyes only met for a fraction of a second before you immediately ducked down, hiding your figure from view in the window. The moment you were out of sight, you stilled, doing your best not to give yourself away.

He was handsome.

His face was calm and demure, reflecting his royal air almost perfectly, and his eyes, like his robe, were a piercing crimson red. They almost seemed to stare into your soul, laying every part of yourself bare for him to see.

He looked like a king in every sense of the word, and you just had to meet him.

Your heart was thrumming wildly in your chest as you struggled to regain your breath. You peeked over the windowsill carefully, glancing past the glass outside once more. The stranger had tied his horse to a post in the square and was walking around, glancing at the villagers here and there. Most of them seemed to be slightly wary of him—after all, it wasn’t everyday a king showed up at your doorstep. He seemed to be looking for something with the way he kept looking around him, his eyes sweeping over every inch of the village. Perhaps you could help him.

Slowly, you slid away from the windowsill and carefully clicked open the front door, stepping outside. The sun shone brilliantly on your face as you made your way toward the stranger. Once again, his back was turned to you, and you stopped a few feet behind him. Taking a deep breath, you mustered up what courage you had before speaking.

“Hello.”

The man turned at the sudden sound of your voice, his scarlet eyes piercing into yours. “Oh, hello.” His voice was deep, laced with a low rasp that sent a shiver down your spine.

Your offered him a warm smile. “Welcome to our humble village. I’m [Y/N].” You extended your hand, and he took it in a friendly handshake, smiling back.

“The name’s Technoblade.”

Your eyebrows quirked. “Technoblade,” you repeated. “That’s a unique name.”

“Thanks,” he said, jokingly adding, “I got it for my birthday.”

You giggled at that. He may look regal and intimidating, but right off the bat, it seemed that his personality was far from it. “You know what they say, a bad joke is always the best way to leave a good first impression.”

He frowned, feigning sadness. “Oh, c’mon, it wasn’t that bad.”

Your lips twitched. “Well, I laughed at it, so I’ll give you that.” His face lit up once more, and you felt your stomach churn with warmth. “Well, what brings you here?”

He gestured to the pack he had clipped to his belt. “Just looking to do a few trades, really.”

You looked at him in confusion. “A king? Trading with commoners like us?”

He blinked for a moment. “Ah, about that, I’m not really a king, per se.” He plucked his crown from off his head, tossing it casually in his hands. “The crown and robes are more for… aesthetic purposes, to say the least. I don’t really rule over my own country or anything.

Your tilted your head at him. “Where do you come from, then? I can only imagine you travelled for a while to get here.”

He shrugged. “It was kind of far, but it wasn’t a big deal, really. I never got lost.”

You raised your eyebrows at him. “Never?” you said.

“Never,” he confirmed. His grinned smugly, your heart reeling at the sight. “I’m a human GPS, if you will.”

You stifled a laugh but couldn’t hide your smile. What a dork. “Totally.”

His grin only widened. “Anyways, I’m from this place called Pogtopia.” You must have made a face at his words, because he laughed at you and god, even his laugh was pretty. “Yeah, it’s kind of a funny name, isn’t it? Well, I didn’t come up with it. My friends Tommy and Wilbur did.”

“They must be…” You looked for a good word. “…interesting people.”

He laughed. “It’s okay—you’re allowed to say they have bad taste in names.”

You giggled, your cheeks flushing in slight embarrassment. “Okay, yeah, their taste is pretty poor.” You glanced at him. “Are they the kings of your country then, since they named it?”

“Kind of. I guess you could call them kings, but they’re more like self-instated presidents, even though that kind of defeats the whole purpose of having a president.” You nodded, following along in agreement. “They’re trying to win back some land they were exiled from a while back called L’Manberg, although it was recently renamed Manberg, but there’s also Dream and his SMP, and—” He sighed, running a hand through his rosy locks. “It’s complicated. Basically, we’re sort of in the middle of this war, and I just kind of got roped into it.”

Your eyes widened in alarm. “A war?! Surely we wouldn’t get involved, right?” Your village, like many others, was a pacifist group of people, having no source of defense or battle skills to protect yourselves with. If this supposed war came all the way to your little village, all of you would surely perish.

Technoblade raised his arms in front of him, quickly shaking his head. “Oh, definitely not. You’ve got nothing to worry about, I swear.”

You pressed a hand to your chest as you let out a breath of relief. “Oh, thank goodness.” Technoblade smiled at you from the corner of your eye, amusement lacing his lips. You suddenly straightened, another thought popping into your head. “What about you, then? Aren’t you worried?”

He laughed again, though it sounded more like a cackle. “Me? Worried? Nahhh.” He swung his axe off his back, being careful to point it away from you. “I may not look like it, but I’m actually one of the most feared warriors in the land. Tommy and Wilbur basically begged me to join their side so I can help them win.” He gestured to himself. “You don’t have to believe me, but I think it’s pretty clear to see I’m pretty much a god at PVP.”

You hummed, shaking your head. “No, I believe you. You do look like you could seriously teach someone a thing or two with that axe, but I really don’t think I need to feed your ego anymore.” You smiled bemusedly. “It already seems to be quite large on its own.”

His grin dropped. “Wait, please, feed my ego, I thrive off complime—”

A giggle escaped your mouth as you waved your hand at him. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding!” Your expression grew a bit more serious. “But honestly, you’re not scared? Even a little?”

Technoblade shook his head. “Nope. A war is just a lot of fights lined up one after the other, and I’m great at winning fights. Heck, I could probably wipe out the other side in a heartbeat with what I’ve got in my arsenal. Tommy and Wilbur might just send me out by myself to do just that.”

“They would?” you said in disbelief. “Aren’t they worried for you, either?”

He snorted. “They were the ones who wanted me here to help them win, so they definitely aren’t worried.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. Well, that was no good—no good at all. Wasn’t a single person concerned for this man’s safety, not even just one? No matter how powerful he may be, this was a war you two were talking about, and wars don’t always go according to plan.

Suddenly, it hit you.

“I see,” you murmured. You raised your chin, resolve filling your veins. “Then I’ll worry for you.”

Technoblade stared at you for a long moment, stunned into silence. Panicking, you began to ramble. “You and your friends may have overwhelming confidence in you and your abilities,” you said, “but it’s still important that you recognize that sometimes things don’t go according to plan. That’s why you should worry, and if you won’t, then I’ll do it in your stead.”

When he still didn’t say anything after yet another moment, you felt embarrassment rise up in you. “I’m sorry, we just met and that was totally uncalled for of m—”

“No, no, really,” he abruptly said, shaking his head. “It’s all good. Seriously.” There was a slight pause. Then, he softly added, “Thank you. I appreciate your concern.”

His lips curled to form a smile, but this one was different from the ones he gave you before. Those ones were proud and teasing, full of mirth and some level of arrogance. But this one was softer, kinder. More genuine and real.

You liked this one more.

Still feeling slightly embarrassed from having just rambled about caring about a near stranger to his face, you quickly shifted gears. “W-Well, I should probably ask what exactly you wanted to trade for,” you said as your cheeks flushed pink. You lowered your gaze to the ground, trying to avert your eyes from his. “I can probably help you find whatever it is you need.”

Technoblade hummed. “I have a bunch of stuff with me that I can use to trade, but I’m looking for a cleric to get some mending books from.”

Your head shot up in recognition. “A cleric, you say?” Your lips curled into a small grin when he nodded. “I know just where to find him. Wait here for a minute, okay?”

As soon as he nodded his head once more, you had already taken off, bounding down the grassy path with your skirt trailing behind you. Technoblade’s gaze followed you as you rushed down the path, a pleasant warmth bubbling in the pit of stomach and he watched you run off.

Usually whenever he came to a village, the people he met were wary of him and hardly ever spoke more than the bare minimum to him. Most of them were intimidated by his appearance, others thrown off by his cockiness. And yet here you were, treating him like a friend when so many before you had done the exact opposite. You were kind, compassionate, and you saw more than just his arrogant exterior. You genuinely cared for the person he was underneath the crown and the robes. Not to mention, you were quite the sight for sore eyes.

Warmth blossomed in his chest and something fluttered in his stomach.

He was glad he came to this village.

To say your father was more than pleased to trade some books of mending for the stacks upon stacks of emeralds Technoblade had was an understatement.

“I thought you said you weren’t a king,” you said to him, your eyes nearly bulging out of your head when you saw him open his pack.

“I’m not,” Technoblade said, twirling an emerald between his fingers. “I just happen to be very wealthy.”

You shook your head at him, a smile gracing your lips. “You’re a maniac.”

He shot you a smug look. “Oh, don’t I know it.”

After he had traded for some mending books with your father, he had asked you if your village had a fletcher.

“Oh, I made a delivery to Mr. Hart earlier today,” you said. “Here, follow me.”

The trek to the other side of the village was short enough, and you were content to wait on the sides while Technoblade made some negotiations. Just then, Mrs. Lee spotted you and strode up to you.

“Good afternoon, [Y/N],” she greeted, her lips tilting into a familiar gentle smile.

“Hello, Mrs. Lee!” you chirped happily, turning to face her. “Thank you for the pumpkins, earlier today! I’ll be sure to give you some of the pumpkin pie I bake tomorrow.”

“Why, there’s no need for you to do that, dear.” She leaned close to your ear to whisper, “You know you’re my favourite of the youngins here.”

You blushed. “You know that’s not true.”

She held a finger to her lips. “It’s our little secret, alright?” She looked over your shoulder at Technoblade, who was still debating with Mr. Hart. “Looks like you’ve become acquainted with our visitor, haven’t you, dear?”

Your blush deepened. “Y-Yes! I have. His name is Technoblade and he comes from a country called Pogtopia. He traded for some books with my father just now.”

Mrs. Lee wrinkled her nose. “Weird name, the both of them, but never mind that.” She smirked at you, glancing just behind you. “He’s quite the looker, isn’t he?”

Your face exploded like a bright red tomato. “I-I, um, he’s. Um.” You took a deep breath and fanned your face, lowering your voice. “He’s handsome.”

Her smirk only grew larger. “I hope the two of you become even more acquainted then,” she said cryptically, patting your shoulder. “I’ll be on my way now, but do let me know how it goes, okay?”

You nodded dutifully, too embarrassed to say anything else. Mrs. Lee turned away and continued her way down the grassy path, smiling to herself.

If only you had seen the way he had looked at you.

Hours had passed since Technoblade had first arrived in the village, and the sun was just beginning to set. The two of you had visited just about every working person in the village, chatting away as Technoblade traded for whatever he needed from each person you two saw.

The two of you learned a lot about each other in the time you spent together. You learned that Technoblade wasn’t a huge fan of government and much preferred anarchy. He learned that you longed for something much more than your normal life in the village, but you had yet to discover what it was you wanted to do. You learned that he owned a dog named Floof. He learned the location of your favourite spot in the village. By the end of the day, it felt like you two had known each other for ages.

You secretly hoped that he would stay, but you knew that he couldn’t. The village wasn’t his home, after all.

You stood nearby as Technoblade strapped his pack back onto Carl’s saddle, chewing the inside of your lip. He climbed onto Carl, securing his axe on his back and picking up the reins in his hands. “Well, [Y/N],” he said, a hint of disappointment tinging his voice, “it looks like this is goodbye.”

“I guess so,” you murmured sadly, casting your gaze down at your feet. You had only known him for so long, but an overwhelming sense of loss filled you knowing that Technoblade was leaving and may very well never return. He was funny with his dry, dorky sense of humour and charming with his sharp grins and deep voice.

You weren’t sure you were quite ready to let go just yet.

“Um,” you spoke up, your voice cracking a little, “will you…” You peeked up at him, nervously biting the inside of your cheek as you fiddled with your fingers. “Will you ever come back?”

Something in Technoblade’s chest seized at the shy look on your face, your cheeks rosy and your gaze darting back and forth between his eyes and the ground. While he had originally only come in search of this village to trade with a cleric, he supposed he might always need more mending books in the future. Not to mention, he would also get to see you.

He smiled, letting out a soft laugh. “Yeah,” he said, “I’ll be back, so wait up for me, yeah?”

Your eyes lit up and an elated grin spread across your face. “I-I will!”

He chuckled at your giddiness, his own heart beating wildly against his rib cage. “Good.”

Sharing one last look with you, he snapped his reins and held on tight as Carl dashed forward, his gaze trailing behind him as he watched you wave your arms frantically at him. He couldn’t help but crack a smile at your enthusiasm, raising his arm to wave back at you himself. He kept waving until he could no longer see you, and only then did he face forward to find his way home.

The journey back was significantly shorter than the trip to the village, and before he knew it, he was tying Carl to his usual fence post. He was a human GPS, after all. How else would he have found the village—and you—with so much ease?

He tilted his head up, looking up at the rising moon in the east. Now he knew that the village (and you, his heart helpfully supplied once more) lay to the west, just beyond the birch forest, desert, and river. Above him, he could make out the shapes of a handful of constellations, the stars twinkling and winking down at him from space. He wondered if you were looking up at the same starry sky as him. He wondered if your stomach was full of butterflies, too.

“So,” he mused to himself aloud, his heart thump-thump-thumping in his chest, “[Y/N], huh?”

He was definitely going back.

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strawberrylemonz · 2 years

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We’ll Meet Again - For the Blood God

Hello readers,

As I am writing this, it has been 3 hours since the announcement of the death of Alex "Technoblade". If you haven't watched his final video and don't plan to, no worries. You are completely valid. For those of you who are grieving alongside the community, it's okay to grieve. I can't begin to imagine how his close friends and his beloved family feel about all this. The pain of losing a loved one, a friend, is unimaginable.

I had always seen myself in Technoblade. Having only been 3 years younger than him and with a similar personality and set of interests, I related easily to him. He helped me learn to accept myself, flaws and all. I must agree with his words, I really am a nerd.

His videos had been a great comfort to me throughout my life. I remember watching him play Skywars on the school laptops the first day of high school as a homeless teen. I remember watching him a year and a half later, my family finally in a home after years. I remember watching him mess with Phil and Tommy with his goons before the pandemic caused a worldwide shutdown. I remember the 2nd Potato War, after I had just turned 18 and my school left for Spring Break, none of us returning. He was there, winning the Minecraft Championship with the rest of SBI, keeping a smile on my face as I prepared for my pandemic graduation. I remember watching him go against Dream for $100,000 during my first semester in college, days after my nephew was born. Even as my college dreams slipped through my fingers, and I felt like a complete failure, his content kept a stupid smile on my face.

The world genuinely lost an amazing person. He has inspired so many, and so many rediscovered their passions and purpose thanks to him. Out of everything he's said, he was right about many things. I miss Technoblade very much, but, true to his word, he never dies. Technoblade never dies because he will forever live in us all. His memory and his impact will live on in the lives that he touched.

It's okay to grieve, it's okay to feel lost. I, for one, am devastated. I have not cried this much and have not felt so much pain since the passing of my grandmother a decade ago. We must remember to get back up again. Even if it feels hard and impossible, we can do it. We much live our lives to the fullest, no regrets. It's what he would have wanted. Continue to write your poems, your stories, your songs. Draw to your heart's content, play new games, cook new foods, try new things. Hug those around you. Tell someone you love them. Look at the stars, learn something new and exciting, help someone out. Life is too short for us to take it for granted.

For those who may not know, there has been merch released in remembrance of Technoblade. A portion of the proceeds will be going towards fighting cancer. You can also directly donate, if you have the means to do so.

"And I hope you all go on to live long, prosperous, and happy lives, because I love you guys." - Technoblade, "so long nerds", June 30th, 2022

Let's do exactly that. Let's move forward, sorrow and all, and show him that we can live on. He's watching us, always has and always will.

I read that once you die to cancer, the cancer dies too. You don't lose, it's a draw. And Technoblade never loses.

He will be remembered as an effortlessly talented, intelligent, friendly and witty man.

So long, my favorite nerd. You have been, and always will be, the one and only Blood God. I can't wait until we meet in the afterlife, so I can thank you and then give you a piece of my mind for that remembrance merchandise. Only you would do such a thing.

"If I had another hundred lives, I think I would choose to be Technoblade again every single time, as those were the happiest years of my life." -Technoblade, "so long nerds", June 30th, 2022

#technoblade #technoblade never dies

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poisoned-peppermint · 3 years

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Part 4 of incorrect quotes because i feel obligated to make more due to the sheer number of people who liked it

Dream: My dearest beloved fuckos, is a fun, gender-neutral way to begin a speech

George: See also, esteemed bastards

Bad: Gentlefolk, Ferals, and Domesticated cryptids.

Sapnap: My fellow yees and haws

~~~~~~~

Techno:Hey I know skyrim is revered as a classic but are we just going to ignore the fact that the entire game only had like 3 voice actors

Wilbur:Stop right there criminal cum

Techno:My ancestors are smiling at me, bastard, can you say the same

~~~~~~~

Foolish:When's your bedtime :)

Purpled: Whenever I next collapse in purely up to the gods

~~~~~~

Ranboo:Human skin is a fursuit for skeletons

Tubbo: i’m going to debone you like a fucking trout

~~~~~~

Bad:You’re enough

Bad: love yourself!!!!!!! or suffer my wrath!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Dream:And by wrath I mean love!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Bad:no I mean wrath!!!!! You reading this, if you don't love yourself I’ll beat you with a stick!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

~~~~~~~

Bad:I hope everyone is today well! And tomorrow!!!! After that you’re on your own.

~~~~~~

Bad:what am I supposed to do all day while you’re at work

Skeppy:I don’t know, what do you normally do while I’m gone

Bad: wait for you to get back

~~~~~~

Velvet:For my next stunt, I’ll wake up at 5am on the day I can sleep in

Ant:Early to bed and early to rise makes a man healthy, wealthy and wise.

Velvet:Early to bed and early to rise makes me a massive bitch

~~~~~~

Tubbo: 3:23 AM make a wish

Ranboo: I wish that you would go to sleep

Tuddo: Yeah well I wish I grew an inch taller every day as you get an inch shorter until you’re as flat as as a piece of paper and I’m 11 feet tall

Ranboo: You’re going to die of a mixture of skeletal instability and heart disease.

Tubbo: Yeah but I’ll look good while doing it.

~~~~~~

Bad:Disrespect me again and I’ll determine your bodies resonant frequency and play a jaunty horn solo that boils your miserable organs inside out

~~~~~~

Quackity: If I were dating you? Well, heh. Let’s just say horses wouldn't be called horses anymore

Karl: hey what the honk does this mean…..I’m shaking what does this mean!

~~~~~~

Skeppy: Are you ok?

Bad wrapped in a burrito blanket drinking his 6th cup of coffee: Yes, this is exactly what mental stability looks like

~~~~~~

Sam: My hands are cold

Ponk: *holds their hands*

Ponk: better?

Sam: My lips are cold too

~~~~~~

George at dream’s funeral: can I have a moment alone with them?

Sapnap: of course *leaves*

George leaning over dream’s casket: Now listen, I know you’re not dead.

Dream: yeah no shit

~~~~~~

Skeppy, jokingly: I should have Bad kill you for that.

Bad, peering around the corner: Who do I need to kill?

Skeppy: Wh- no, I was just kidding around.

Bad, pulling out a switchblade: No, who’s bothering you

~~~~~~

Bad *watching the news*: Some idiot tried to fight a squid at the aquarium.

Skeppy *covered in ink*: Maybe the squirt was being a dick.

~~~~~~

Peacock: *spreads feathers at Bad*

Skeppy: It’s trying to attract a mate

Bad, extremely confused: *shyly lifts top*

Skeppy: No!

~~~~~~

Sapnap: Karl, do you eat olives? My dad wants to know

Karl: No, I hate olives. Olives are the spawn of satan. I hate olives so much my mom forced me to live in Mount olive for the rest of my childhood as a curse from the olive gods. Do you understand how much olives have ruined my life? I'm so offended that you asked me that have some consideration for people who have been abused by olives please!

Sapnap: K A R L ……….they’re just olives!!?

Karl: JUST OLIVES EXCUSE!

~~~~~~

Tommy: If you’re bored you can simply close your eyes and rotate a cow in your mind. It’s free and the cops can’t stop you

~~~~~~

Wilbur: is there anyone even named sheldon irl?

Tubbo: my class turtle from 6th grade :)

Wilbur: that’s a turtle

Tubbo: When god sings with his creations, will a turtle not be part of the choir?

~~~~~~

Ranboo: No bcuz why do ppl like salad?? What’s so good about it

Tubbo: chew leaf like god intended

Ranboo: No

Tubbo: Abandon god and see what he does next time you lift your hands in prayer

~~~~~~~

Tommy: Guys, there’s a monster under my bed and it’s really ugly.

Wilbur, on the bottom bunk: Honestly, fuck you.

~~~~~~

Quackity: So according to the cease and desist order I got, apparently you can’t ‘legally’ be a lawyer if your license is ‘cut out of a cereal box’.

~~~~~~

Puffy: If you had too, what would you give up food or sex?

Bad: Sex.

Skeppy: Seriously, answer faster.

Bad: I’m sorry honey, when they said sex I wasn’t thinking about sex with you.

Skeppy: It’s like a giant hug.

Puffy: Ant, what about you? What would you give up sex or food?

Ant: Food.

Puffy: Okay, how about sex or dinosaurs?

Ant: ……...Oh my God it’s like the movie Sophie’s Choice.

Gumi: What about you Velvet? What would you give up sex or food?

Velvet: Oh… um… I don’t know, it’s too hard.

Gumi: No, you gotta pick one.

Velvet: Um, food… no, sex… no, food…sex… food. Ugh! I don’t know! I want both! I- I want Antfrost on bread!

~~~~~~~

Tommy, holding a gun: If the conspiracies about life being a simulation are true WHOEVERS CONTROLLING MY SIM I JUST WANNA TALK.

~~~~~~~

Bad: Why are you guys acting like this?

Boomer: Oh, we’re not acting. We really are like this.

~~~~~~

Techno: Dream has only knocked me out three times this week. Our friendship is really developing.

~~~~~~

Tommy: You’re pathetic!

Wilbur: You’re pathetic-er!

Techno: You’re both losers.

~~~~~~

Bad: I wish I could help you, but I shorn’t.

Skeppy: Bad, please!

Bad: What part of shorn’t don’t you understand?

~~~~~~

Tubbo: Why did you leave Wrestlemania on for Michal?

Ranboo: They need to learn how to protect us.

~~~~~~

Antfrost: I regret getting dragged into your heterosexual tomfoolery.

~~~~~~

Bad: Strawberry milk doesn’t taste like strawberry OR milk.

Skeppy: Go the fuck to sleep Bad!

Bad: LANGUAGE!!

~~~~~~

Ranboo: Tubbo, please calm down.

Tubbo: I asked for two large fries!

Tubbo: *dumps fries onto table*

Tubbo: But all they did was give me a MILLION FUCKING LITTLE ONES!

~~~~~~

Bad: That was the worst throw ever. Of all time.

Skeppy: Not my fault. Somebody put a wall in the way.

~~~~~~

Wilbur: When you’ve been on the internet for as long as I have, you develop thick skin.

Tommy: Navy blue isn’t your color.

Wilbur: Navy blue brings out my eyes you prick! *Chases after Tommy*

~~~~~~

Bad: *Pulls a glass a water from out of nowhere*

Puffy: Where did you get that?.

Bad: My pocket.

Puffy: How do you keep a glass of water in your pocket?

Bad: Skills.

~~~~~~

Tubbo: I will come to your house after work and knock on your window at 11 AM. You will not open the curtains, knowing full well what awaits you, but the knocking only grows louder, more demanding. Finally it stops, your ears ringing. You nervously let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. You're safe now. Minutes pass by and you start to relax. And then you hear a knock at the front door. Like before, you stay still and clutch the blankets around you. You try to tell your self that it's just your imagination. Maybe the milk man? But why would he come so late? Everyone else was asleep, save for Naomi who was playing video games down stairs. To your relief, the knocking stops after a few. Minutes and you breath easy once more. Until you hear a knock on your bedroom door. You don't move. It's just your imagination. She isn't here. She can't be here. You tell yourself, shutting your eyes and willing yourself to sleep. The knock comes again, but with horror you realize that it came from the closet inside your room. You know that you have no choice. You get up, climbing out of bed with shaking limbs. You walk to the closest, trembling, and holding back the tears threatening to spill over your porcelain cheeks. You hesitate with your hand over the closet handle. Maybe it's just your imagination? She's not really there. You can go to sleep and laugh it off in the morning. Your naive thoughts are cut off by another, more demanding knock on the closet door, inches from your face. You know what you have to do. You open the closet door, and there she stands. Chuck e cheese, the mouse looms over you in the dim light. It's soulless eyes boor into you. It raises its arms, and you flinch as it begins to floss at lightning speed. Tears spill over your cheeks. This is the last thing you'll ever see.

Ranboo: Wait, Chuck e cheese’s pronouns are she/her? Trans Chuck e cheese? Good for her.

~~~~~~~~

Bad: Would you like something to drink? *They opened the fridge* We have water, milk, juice, spiders, Dr. Pepper-

Quackity: Spiders?

Bad: Spiders it is then.

Quackity: No, that wasn’t-

*But they were already pouring him a brimming glass of spiders…

~~~~~~

Puffy : Make her pussy wet not her eyes.

Velvet : Make his dick hard not his life.

Punz : Break her bed not her heart.

Skeppy : Play with his boobs not his feelings.

Ant : Get on his dick not his nerves.

Bad : Always salt your pasta while boiling it.

~~~~~~~

Wilbur: Bet you can’t eat 15 crayons!

Tommy: Bet you I can!

Phil: *sips coffee, checks to make sure 911 is still on speed dial, and goes back to reading the paper*

~~~~~~~

Ant: We need a way to lure in new customers?

Ponk: Maybe we could have some fun, interactive events!

Skeppy: Badboyhalo bath water.

Bad: ABSOLUTELY NOT!

~~~~~~~~

Fundy: GET BACK HERE YOU DUMB FUCK!

Wilbur: LET ME RUN FROM THE CONSEQUENCES OF MY ACTIONS!

~~~~~~~~

Bad: Mint is just cold spicy.

Pummel party Squad: …

Gumi: What the actual fuck is wrong with you.

~~~~~~~~

Quackity: Isn’t it amazing how I can feel so bad and still look so good?

~~~~~~~

Tommy: Why does my arm shake and turn bright red when I’m eating dirt?

Phil:

Phil: Why are you eating dirt?

Tommy: Did I ask you if I should eat dirt? No, so answer my question.

~~~~~~~

Tubbo: I wish I could control wasps and bees to sting my enemies.

Quackity: You’re too young to have enemies.

Tubbo: You don’t even know.

~~~~~~~~

Skeppy: Is there a cactus where your heart should be?

Puffy: What’s up your ass this morning!

Bad: *walks in* …Hi!!

Puffy: Hmm… nevermind.

Skeppy: WAIT NO!

~~~~~~~~

Skeppy: Ha! Don’t you know the trappers trap can trap the trapper?

Skeppy: I must be losing it, I’m quoting Bad.

~~~~~~~

Skeppy: Bad, I sense hostility.

Bad: Good, because I hate you

~~~~~~~

Bad: Are you a painting?

Skeppy: What-?

Bad: Because I want to pin you to a wall.

Skeppy: OH GOD I THOUGHT YOU WERE GOING TO SAY YOU WANTED TO HANG ME OR SOMETHING-

~~~~~~

Tommy: You’re giving me a sticker?

Phil: Not just a sticker. That is a sticker of a kitty saying “me-wow!”

Tommy: I’m not a preschooler.

Phil: Fine, I’ll take it back-

Tommy: I earned this, back off!

~~~~~~

Dream, sweating: George, there’s something I need to ask you-

George: Finally! You’re proposing!

Dream: How’d you know?

George: Dream, you’ve dropped the ring five times during dinner.

George: I even picked it up once

~~~~~~~~

*Bad and Skeppy looking at a locked gate into a park*

Bad: Aw. :(

Skeppy: You know what they say.

Bad: Please don’t-

Skeppy: BE GAY DO CRIME! *hops gate*

Bad: Frick-

~~~~~~~~

let me know if ya’ll want more <3

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findingjoynweirdstuff · 3 years

Text

Dream SMP Recap (April 23/2021) - The Lessons

Those resisting the Egg meet on Cloud Prime to prepare for the Red Banquet, composing backup plans and wondering if the Eggpire really is trying to turn over a new leaf.

Ranboo experiences something strange while talking to Foolish about the mansion and goes searching for some answers, confronting Sam at the prison.

---

VOD LINKS:

Foolish

Philza

Captain Puffy

Jack Manifold

Ranboo

Hannahxxrose

---

- Foolish picks out an outfit for the Red Banquet.

- Phil continues to work on the massive basement build.

- Puffy needs a Banquet skin as well. She meets Foolish at the Holy Land.

- Foolish shows Puffy the Nether Portal entrance to his summer home that he’s been working on. He also still needs therapy from the catmaid incident.

- They meet with Sam and Hannah on Cloud Prime. Foolish hands them all Rolexes for the Banquet.

- They discuss the Banquet. Sam says Bad told them they wanted to “turn over a new leaf.” They notice Bad used the same phrases for all of them. Foolish and Puffy are both skeptical.

- Sam thinks they should have a backup plan. He pulls out diamond blocks, saying he can donate riches. The Eggpire doesn’t want them bringing items, but Sam thinks they should hide armor somewhere down near the Banquet area just in case.

- Hannah and Foolish leave.

- Antfrost comes over and Puffy and Sam briefly speak with him. They tell him they’re excited for the Banquet, for the hatchet that they’re going to bury and the leaf they’ll turn over.

- Right now, Antfrost is working on final preparations. Sam asks if there’s anything he can help with. Ant says they could bring shrimp for Puffy’s shrimp cocktails.

Puffy: “Well, I mean I was promised it was gonna be there -- that’s kinda the reason why I showed up, honestly, was -- was for the shrimp. And you know the leaf, of course, that we’re turning.”

Ant: “Of course, of course. It’ll be there, it’ll be there.”

...

Sam: “Is there anything specifically that we should look forward to?”

Ant: “I think just everybody getting along and you know, becoming one. Turning over a new leaf.”

- They say goodbye and Antfrost leaves.

- Sam and Puffy speak. Can they trust the other two, Hannah and Foolish?

Sam: “I know one of them’s your son--”

Puffy: “No, listen, listen. See, Foolish is innocent. He’s too good, too pure. But me and you, we’ve been here since the beginning. We’ve seen this unfold since the Egg showed up, and I don’t think they’ve seen all the bad.”

Sam: “I don’t think they quite grasp how much the Egg has changed those two.”

Puffy: “God no...”

- Sam has a plan: to set a trap to destroy the Egg if necessary. He’s hesitant, though, as he doesn’t want to destroy the Egg if they really are trying to turn over a new leaf. They can drop TNT down the tunnel right on top of the Egg. He’ll have to sneak in a lever somewhere.

- Sam wants to give them a chance to turn over a new leaf, but this is their last chance. It’s now or never to gain their trust back.

- They agree to not tell Hannah and Foolish a thing about this. The less they know, the less danger they’ll be in.

- Puffy says goodbye and Sam leaves to collect TNT. They’ll speak later.

- Puffy wanders off and thinks to herself.

“This has to be on me and Sam. There’s no -- I trust Foolish and I trust Hannah, but they haven’t been here since the beginning. They don’t know. They don’t know better.”

“I wanna trust Bad, I wanna trust Antfrost and Punz and I wanna trust that they’re being honest and they do want to make a difference, but...just too much has happened, they’ve changed too much, and I think there’s too much to risk, there’s too much on the line. It has to be like this. It has to be done."

- Puffy goes to prepare sets of armor.

- Jack gets some Netherite enchanted.

- After Tubbo chooses Ranboo over Jack on his stream with Tommy, Jack goes and leaves a sign in front of Bee ‘n’ Boo to get back at him:

Hope you have fun owning your hotel with Ranboo

- Jack </3

“It’s the worst kind of villainy, chat...making his feelings hurt.”

- He goes back to enchanting.

---

The Enderwalk Saga: Chapter One

The Lessons.

---

- Ranboo is in Michael’s room. He draws the Axe of Ender for a few seconds before throwing Michael a golden apple.

- He has to go speak with Foolish to talk about the mansion about the payment. When he reaches the mansion, he finds Foolish in the library. Foolish has himself a cake.

- The mansion is nearly complete, and Ranboo is excited to move in.

- Foolish tours Ranboo around the mansion, showing him the various rooms, including a war room that Tubbo requested. Some he’s not sure about. Maybe he could get some books -- he asks if Ranboo’s much of a book-reader.

- There’s also a panic closet that Foolish has already tried out after a certain chandelier.

- Foolish tries to bring Ranboo back to the war room but loses his way. As they pass the bee on the lead, Ranboo draws his axe for a moment again. Foolish reaches it and shows Ranboo a secret back space.

- Foolish brings up the deal he made with Ranboo to thank him. Not the mansion, but the shulker box. Ranboo is confused -- what deal?

- Foolish’s voice fades away for a moment, replaced with Enderman noises.

Words appear on the screen.

Lesson 14:

If you have the opportunity to gain a favor, take it.

- Foolish tosses Ranboo a grass block to hold. Ranboo carries it as he continues talking to Foolish. He nervously tells him he’s just remembered he has things to attend to, and they can talk later.

- Foolish leaves, and Ranboo speaks to himself. He’s confused. What was that? What deal was Foolish talking about?

- He leaves the mansion and heads out from Snowchester back to the mainland. He says it must not have anything to do with the “experiments” he’s been doing. There wouldn’t be any side effects.

- Ranboo pauses in front of Bee ‘n’ Boo.

“I remember this...I have to finish this."

Lesson 27:

Do not reminisce on what you have lost for it will weigh you down.

- Ranboo is confused. Why is he only remembering this?

- The Prime Path is splattered in red.

“He’s still in prison...can’t have anything to do with him.”

- Ranboo walks past L’manhole, eating potatoes.

“It was all going so well...why now? Because of what?”

- He heads towards the Panic Room but passes it. He’s just going for a walk. He figures he needs to tell people what he’s done.

- Ranboo makes his way down the railway.

Lesson 53:

Never fully trust anyone.

- He just has to block them out. That’s what he’s been doing this entire time. The experiments were doing well, he figured out how to cause it. He knew there might be side effects, but he didn’t think that this is what it would be.

- He heads back the other way to Tommy’s summer home, stopping on the hill and looking towards the prison. He promised himself he wouldn’t go in there again.

Lesson 67:

Leave no evidence of what you have helped with.

- What did he do?

- It’s just because he hasn’t eaten. He eats more potatoes and starts heading home.

Lesson 94:

DO NOT LET THEM KNOW WHAT YOU HAVE DONE.

The words flash on the pages of a book.

- Ranboo stops in front of the Nether Portal.

He has to go to the prison. He needs to find the fourth book.

- Ranboo runs back to the prison. The red splatters continue on the path leading there.

“For the greater good. It’s for the greater good. It’s all for the greater good.”

- Sam is standing outside the entrance, cleaning up the ground. Sam tells him no one is allowed to visit the prison, but Ranboo pleads with him to be let in. Sam insists that no one can go in, especially not Ranboo.

- Ranboo says he doesn’t want to visit Dream.

Ranboo: “I need to be put in the prison, Sam...”

- He can’t tell Sam why. Sam says he doesn’t need to be in the prison, he hasn’t done anything wrong.

Ranboo: “I CAN’T TELL YOU WHAT I HAVE!”

- Ranboo insists again. Just a couple years. He asks what he has to do. Sam says there’s nothing he can do that would make him put Ranboo in the prison.

- Ranboo tells him there are 93 reasons why, and there could be hundreds. Thousands.

- What if he paid Sam? Sam says no, that Ranboo’s a good person.

Ranboo: “I can’t tell you how wrong that is.”

Sam: “Ranboo I can’t put you in the prison, you wouldn’t be able to go see Michael anymore. What would Tubbo do? And Foolish is building you a house right now.”

Ranboo: “Exactly why I want to be put in there, Sam.”

- What if Ranboo put himself in the prison? Sam says he can’t. He wouldn’t lock Ranboo in there for things he only imagined he did.

- Sam draws his sword and tells Ranboo to go home.

Ranboo: “Are you gonna kill me?”

Sam: “I don’t want to. I don’t think I’ll have to. I think you should just go home.”

- Ranboo and Sam say some parting words.

Ranboo: “You have no idea what you’ve done.”

Sam: “Listen to me. You are a good person.”

Ranboo: “I am?”

Sam: “Yes, you are.”

Ranboo: “I don’t think so, Sam.”

Sam: “I do, even if you don’t.”

- Ranboo leaves.

“I know what I need to do. I’m not gonna get put in there...and I at least need answers. I need answers. I need answers right now. I need to go. I need answers, and I know who can give me answers. I know who can give me answers...”

“I have to go. I have to go to the one person I know who can give me answers in regards to this...okay. I know where to go, I know what to do. It’s dangerous, hard journey, but, I know what to do. I -- I shouldn’t have done anything. I shouldn’t have done anything! ‘Cause it was fine! But then my curiosity got the best of me and now -- now there are 93--94--90 -- there are so many reasons! That I don’t wanna know, I don’t wanna remember anymore!”

“But...I’ve opened up Pandora’s Box. I’ve opened up Pandora’s Box...and I don’t know what to do. ‘Cause instead of closing it...there’s no way to close it."

- Ranboo returns to the Arctic.

“The way that the Enderwalk works is something that I’ve been trying to figure out for a long time. But I know what can help me.”

- He enters his house and starts brewing splash water bottles.

“If I can’t get answers from anyone else...then I know the one thing that can give me answers.”

- Ranboo writes in his Memory Book: What am I?

“The one thing that can give me answers...is myself.”

- He throws down the water bottle and the screen goes black as the Enderman noises sound.

SEE YOU SOON.

- Hannah fixes up her house, making it pink again.

---

Upcoming Events:

- The Red Banquet (Sunday)

- Dream SMP one-year anniversary (Saturday)

- Tommy’s plan

- Quackity’s business opening

- Dream’s lore video

#dream smp #dream smp recaps #long posts

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ray-ray-writings · 4 years

Note

i really just love some sbi...maybe a drabble of the reader being awake for like 40+ hours and they’re streaming? so their chat is like spamming “go to beddd” and the reader is stubborn but eventually all of the sleepybois join her vc and are like “go to bed rn” so she does and they all express their concern afterwards and the reader confesses that they are feeling like they aren’t good enough and have to keep streaming and they all comfort her? reader is tommy’s age btw !

This is such a good idea lol... P.S. Enjoy this hurt/comfort because I have an SBI imagine coming out tonight and it’s all hurt and like very little comfort... It’s so sad guys... But enjoy this now lol.

So like I imagine that you wake up at 7 am, do your things to get ready for school, and go to school. You’re in school till three and then you get home, grab a snack, and go to your room and begin your stream. You do a lot of things on your stream which causes your stream to go for nine hours. Thank god it was Friday and you didn’t have school the next morning. But you’re yawning so much that chat begins to beg you to end stream and get rest. You try to brush them off, but they threaten to get Philza and so you huff and say your goodbyes before ending your stream with the promise that you were going to go to sleep… Yeah you lied.

Instead of getting into bed, you down a few energy drinks and begin editing for a new video you wanted to upload. That takes a few hours and so by the time you’re done, you realize the sun has come up and you’ve been editing for many many hours and have been up for over 24 hours. Regardless of the fact you’re tired, you are like, “well I can’t go to sleep now! That would throw off my sleep schedule, and I wouldn’t be able to stream and that would disappoint a lot of people... plus I’m not tired!” And so you begin making more content that you plan on uploading. As well as doing some of your school work. After a while, you glance at the time and realize you have to start stream soon. So you quickly save everything that you’re working on, go to the bathroom, go to the kitchen, grab a few snacks and some more energy drinks before heading back to your bedroom and beginning to stream again. So for a while you’re playing your games and talking to chat and somehow, probably because a donation asked you how your night went, but you let it slip that you didn’t actually go to sleep the night before and chat explodes. They beg you to go to bed and get the rest that you need and so very much deserve, but you ignore them. “Guys, I’m fine! I’m not even *big yawn* that tired… okay I know that looks bad but seriously I’m *yawn*.... Chat please” But they don’t stop spamming, asking you to go to sleep, but you refuse. You think that if you don’t stream, you’ll lose everything you’ve worked so hard to build. Your fans would slowly realize how bad of a streamer you are and you would lose everything. While you’re lost in your thoughts, people have started to spam the Sleepy boys, explaining what was happening. Philza is the first to see the worried tweets and immediately contacts Wilbur, Techno, and Tommy asking if they know about what’s happening. They don’t and so they decide to ring you as a group, after all if they all ask you to go to bed, there is no way you’ll be able to say no to them. You get a text from Philza asking you to join a Discord call and your attention snaps to chat. “Alright, which one of you snitched on me to my dad? What?” You demand, imitating a Tiktok you once saw. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Sw2v42-nG4c . Your phone buzzes again and this time it’s Wilbur also asking you to join the call. “And my brother’s too?” Chat begs you to join the call and so you let out a sigh and do what you’re told. As soon as you join the call, Wilbur’s voice fills your ears, “What are you doing awake?” “It’s nice to see you too Will… Techno, Phil, Tommy…” you greet, ignoring the question. “Go to sleep. You haven’t slept in 36 hours.” Techno deadpans. “Coming from your Mr. Insomniac” you shoot back. “Sleep” Tommy demands causing you to roll your eyes. “No” you mock, “I’m *yawn* fine guys. Really thanks for the check in, but I’m *yawn* fine.” “Those two yawns say otherwise.” Nothing seems to be working so Phil pulls out the big guns. “I will call your parents if you do not end your stream this instant and go to bed.” And you know he isn’t joking and if he does that, you’re parents will ground you. So you let out a defeated sigh but mute and deafen yourself in discord, wishing chat, who is now celebrating, a goodnight before ending stream. You unmute and undeafen in discord to wish the others a goodnight. “Goodnight Y/N… One question before you go though… Why would you do that to yourself. You obviously knew you needed to sleep, why push yourself like that. You know your fans would understand” Phil asks softly. And you don’t know if it’s the gentleness of the question or the fact you hadn’t slept in 36 hours, but you burst into tears. The boys let you cry it out, all a bit worried but not wanting to pressure you into talking or wanting you to feel bad. Once your sobs calm down, you apologize, “Sorry. Sorry. I’m just overly tired and emotional… But… It’s just that I’m not good. I’m not good enough. And I know that. I really do. But somehow my fans don’t. So I have to keep it up and push myself because if I don’t they’ll realize. They will realize I’m a fraud and that I’m not good enough and they’ll leave me and then you guys will leave me too and I’ll just lose you and I can’t handle that… Sorry, you probably don’t care. You didn’t need me to dump that on you like that… sorry.” The boys are silent for a moment. Their hearts ache at the confession. How could you not think that you’re good enough? You’re such a good and dedicated streamer and it shows in the content that you produce. It’s actually Tommy that’s the first to talk. “That’s bullshit” “Tommy!” the other three scold. “It is! Y/N is such a good streamer, one of the best on the platform! And they’re still so young! You’re fans aren’t going to hate you because you take time for yourself. In fact they’ll probably be more irritated if you don’t take care of yourself. You’re a good streamer Y/N… A great one. Of course you’re good enough. And you’re never going to lose us… We love you. You’re one of us.” Everyone is shocked at Tommy’s mature words. But they agree 100%. “He’s right kiddo, you’re never going to lose us. And you are a good streamer, but in order to be that good streamer you have to take care of yourself.” Philza chimes in. “Phil is also right. Do you know how hard chat bullies me when I don’t take care of myself? Really hard. Our fans love us and they want what is best for us. Taking care of yourself is a must kid.” Techno jumps in. “What they said” Wilbur deadpans causing everyone to break into laughter. “What? It’s true! You all said everything I was going to say! Stop laughing at me!” He whines, causing you to laugh harder. “Thank you boys. I feel a lot better… I’m going to go to sleep now… For real this time. Thank you. I love you.” “We love you too” they all chime back. “Goodnight” “Goodnight” and then you disconnect from the call. Sitting in your chair for a moment, allowing you to collect yourself before standing from the chair and wandering over to your bed and collapsing, your eyes closing and body shutting down into sleep as soon as your head hits the pillow. You were really lucky to have such amazing friends… Goodnight reader. Goodnight.

#mcyt #mcyt imagine #mcyt x reader #mcyt drabble #sbi #sbi imagine #sbi x reader #sbi drabble #sleepy bois #sleepy boys inc #philza #technoblade #wilbur soot #tommyinnit #ray responds #anon #asks

386 notes · View notes

amazingphilza · 4 years

Text

maniac :: cc!tommy x reader

angst (?) , platonic (?) , gender neutral ! ib: conan gray’s maniac

this is satire & note that i write the reader to be a few months younger than tommy (besides that, i think it is fully inclusive !)

synopsis : you put all your hard work towards a useless crush. with no expectation for reciprocated feelings in the first place, it still all ends in a bittersweet slap to reality.

you grew up with minecraft and it was an understatement to say it was part of your childhood

even years later, you still maintained interested in the game

it wasn’t just a simple video game, the community inspired you to do many things

you aspired to be like the creators you watched at a young age like sky, dantdm, cupquake, stampy, and many more

making people happy and entertained was a dream

and when minecraft slowly began trending again in 2019, you started making your own content whenever you felt like it out of fun

you never got much views but it was an enjoyable experience nonetheless

but it wasn’t until the first minecraft monday you decided to push a bit more with your hobbies and worked hard to make it somewhere

however balancing your passions with school wasn’t the easiest

given, you were still only around 15 and your content wasn’t even that good

with not much of a goal or plan with your youtube channel, you fell out of interest eventually

you loved minecraft but you always a rocky relationship with it; getting back into it for a few months then pretending it never really existed for another few

besides the occasional videos you watched in your pass time, you didn’t stay that updated

then lockdown happened

it changed everything and even got you regressing back to old interests

soon enough you were back to minecraft

there was so much to catch up on

hermitcraft season 7 just started, there was minecraft championships, and smp earth and smp live, and so much more to look forward to watching

you were a bit late on both of the smps but your interest peaked specially towards smp earth and it didn’t stop you from watching the past videos

you first gravitated towards a certain youtuber’s videos first since you remember stumbling onto his videos before from your recommended page; wilbur soot

besides recognizing him from his you laugh you lose series and making parody-type of songs, you didn’t know much

however with a few clicks, you had binge watched his smp earth series effortlessly

you found yourself falling down the endless hole, finding more creators to watch through wilbur

one in particular caught your eye in an interesting way

tommyinnit

my god, how can someone be so annoying and pushy in these videos? like shut up already

and to find out he was barely months older than you frustrated you

you just wanted to be better in some way

if someone like him could be popular, why can’t you? yelling at others and causing problems didn’t seem that hard

and so you went back to working hard on your previously failed youtube channel but this time with a goal; be better than tommyinnit

it was a weird aspiration in your head but it worked

he was your age and successful, why need a better motivator?

tommy wasn’t the sole reason why you strive to make content since you truly did want to create videos to entertain people like the youtubers you originally grew up watching

and with the amount of free time you had, you thoroughly analyzed his content; what was the most popular, how he streamed, edited his videos, everything

you just completely studied the algorithm in general

along the way, tommy’s personality grew on you

tommy was undoubtedly a very loud and energetic person but you became fond of his ambitions

you understood why he was popular at such a young age; he was a natural entertainer

your spite towards the boy turned into a hope

a hope to be at par with him someday and even be mutuals

and it was like your dreams were suddenly manifested into existence

you gained a large following in the early months of lockdown and even was recognized to be apart of minecraft championships

it felt like yesterday that you were just watching your favorite youtubers livestream the same competition

and now you were situation in a team to play yourself for the first time instead of being a viewer for once

not to mention, with tommyinnit as a teammate

how did you manage to get so lucky?

under the excitement, you felt beyond never nervous waiting in the empty discord call for your team to join you to practice the mini-games

in the middle of gathering your thoughts together, you heard a sound from discord signaling someone joined the call

“uh, hello?”

you heard the familiar british accent you spent hours listening to from countless streams and videos

“h-hi! i’m y/n, how are you?”

you hoped tommy couldn’t hear the strain in your voice due to fighting your nerves, but you quietly celebrated that you didn’t freeze up altogether

“oh i’m good, thank you. and i’m tommy by the way, this is the first time we’re speaking, yeah?”

“yep! it’s nice to meet you”

“yeah, i’ve seen your name around the timeline a few times, you seem cool”

oh my god what?

“thanks! um i actually really enjoy your content not gonna lie”

“oh wow, good shit!”

and the conversation smoothly went on, bouncing back and forth between you two before your other two teammates joined the call

once everyone was situated, you decided to start streaming since it was your first mcc and you wanted a vod of you practicing to look at later on as a memory

your chat immediately noticed how much you were enjoying yourself, especially after all the short stories of talking about who inspired you in the past

the smile plastered on your face never left

after stream and your other teammates went offline, it was you and tommy left in the call once together again

“it was nice talking to you tommy! and the practice was really fun, i cant wait for the actual competition!”

“yeah definitely, we’ll for sure place high”

“hopefully. it’s my first time and i hope i don’t cost us the dub”

“nah, you think so? i mean rt and plumbella are also our team mates so you know, it’s all for fun in the end”

you knew tommy was implying the teamwork wasn’t going to be the best compared to the other teams but at least in the end you’ve both made a new friend

“yeah you’re right!”

“anyway it’s getting late imma hop off”

“okay tommy, talk to you soon?”

“yep!”

“alright byee”

“bye!”

the moment he left the call, you felt a sense of relief before a small wave of sadness took over

you wanted to continue talking to tommy but you knew you had other responsibilities to tend to

for the rest of the day, you couldn’t stop thinking of the call and mcc practice

the funny jokes, singing random songs, screaming for no reason, everything

it even kept you awake until the early morning

you buried your head in a pillow and screamed into it after realization hit

y/n no

no no no no no no no

you tried to recall anything that remotely related your other teammates which you remembered that didn’t include tommy

even if it was a few hours ago, you couldn’t pin point something specific

i must just be forgetful, right?

what the hell did rt and plumbella even say that whole call?

you vividly remembered everything with tommy and it was clear to you why

surely not

with putting a hand on your chest above your heart, you confirmed that you couldn’t lie to yourself based on the rapid speed

you liked tommy for a good while but it hadn’t clicked to you until now

eventually you fell asleep due to exhaustion but that’s to say you didn’t do so without imagining spending more time with tommy

ever since that day, time went by in a flash

your team didn’t do the best in mcc but it had been a while since then to have that as a concern

sadly you and tommy didn’t talk as often as you hoped but that didn’t make you have less feelings for him

on some days you felt bad since you thought you didn’t know enough about him to even be allowed to crush on him

it was a bit unprofessional but you were nearly 16, it’s normal to have these little crushes right?

eventually time came to rescue when tommy asked you if you wanted to accompany him in the dream smp

undoubtedly, you said yes

and for the few months during summer, it was where you two became even closer than before

however, once both of you two had to go back and attend school, it was harder to catch up with each other

even on calls together off stream, the occasional snapchat notification going off irked you in a way you couldn’t explain

only winter break was the small pause on your disappointment

but even then, it was a slow but steady hill of repressed sadness and frustration until early spring of the following year

you had hoped 2021 would be better than last year but after scrolling through twitter one day and seeing stans making rumors about how tommy had a crush on one of his classmates gave you the same pain you felt when school started last fall

you dreaded to look over at tommy’s most recent story time stream vod where all the gossip arose from; it was him stumbling over his words with the mention of a girl during a certain part

jealousy wasn’t the right word to describe the way you felt

you would never go out of your way to make tommy reciprocate the feelings you had for him

and if he liked someone else the way you saw him, you wouldn’t mind

having a crush is ecstatic, and if he has someone like that too, you should be happy

right?

you tried

what finally broke you was seeing a tiktok a few weeks later of tommy in college with eryn and another girl talking

you didn’t know how she looked like or anything but you wanted to sob

good for him

she didn’t even say much in the video and you dont know enough about tommy’s personal life to jump to conclusions like this

you knew you were acting irrational and you couldn’t be upset at tommy for something he couldn’t control

if anything, you never directly showed interest in him

you didn’t want to in the first place

it was a bad idea from the start

you looked back at the past year and all your intentions

what kind of sick fanfiction did you think you were living?

becoming a content creator, hoping to blow up, just to talk to a big youtuber you had a crush on?

oh my god

y/n what is wrong with you?

listen to yourself, y/n

you need to get some help

whether tommy was dating or even just had interest someone was none of your business

you had to move on no matter what it was and be good and supportive friend

it was dreadful to get over a stupid crush like this but after so much work you put in, you gave some sympathy for yourself

in a friend perspective, you were happy with whatever tommy did and was satisfied your friendship together, but you hadn’t realized how much you gambled from the beginning

and just for a crush?

you couldn’t comprehend how far you gone because you fancied someone

it wasn’t like anyone could get famous and become a popular content creator either

and now with you being on the dream smp along with a successful youtube channel at 16? you were grateful something pushed you enough to work this hard

but you’d never forget the fact everything that lead up to this point was a crush on no other than tommyinnit which first spurred from complete spite

“who’s the one better off now?” your thoughts mocked you from the complete irony

sigh

y/n, you maniac

#idk whether to actually call this platonic but it’s not exactly romance so #tommyinnit x reader #tommyinnit x y/n #tommyinnit x you #tommyinnit fanfic #tommyinnit imagine #mcyt x reader #mcyt x y/n #mcyt x you #mcyt fanfic #mcyt imagine

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arvinsescape · 3 years

Text

Too close.

A/N: This one is a pretty fluffy one but i stumbled across the concept and just had to use it, i really hope you enjoy! I enjoyed writing it!

Summary: At what point do you realise you’re too close to your best friend?

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of smut and implied smut but nothing bad.

W/C: 2.4K

Everyone had always said you and Tom were too close to just be best friends. You’d been best friends for so long and completely inseparable. People thought that when you grew up you’d grow apart somehow but you never did, you only grew closer. People always assume you’re a couple no matter where you go or what you do. His girlfriends always hated you for some reason and your boyfriends always hated him, said you were too close and it was weird. Sure, you were close but how close is too close?

You cuddled all the damn time.

You were sat with the rest of the boys having a film night and of course you were sat with Tom. Your back against the arm of the chair and him sat between your legs as you played with his hair. He sighed in content as you continued to run your fingers through it, he found it comforting.

“When are you two gonna get together?” Harry suddenly said as you halted your movements for a second.

“What do you mean?” Tom asked.

“Well you’re so close I’ve thought something has been going on for years.” Harry shrugged.

“What you can’t be close to your best friend?” You asked.

“There’s close and then there’s you two.” Harrison interjected.

You were in bed cuddled up in your blankets when you heard the front door open and shut, Tom must be home. You leapt out of bed and ran down stairs quietly as to not wake the other boys, tackling him into a hug as he laughed.

“Missed you so much princess.” He said as he squeezed you tight into his chest. Princess. It was a nickname he exclusively had for you and Tess. Sure he had pet names for his girlfriends but he had always said that princess was exclusively yours. That had started at your prom because he said you looked like one and the name stuck.

“Missed you too Tommy.” You said as you squeezed him back. Tommy. A nickname he couldn’t stand coming from anyone else other than you. It was something you’d always called him and you were the only person who got away with it. Not even his exes had been able to call him that without him cringing but when you said it? He smiled.

“I’m gonna go for a shower, wanna get the plane smell off me.” He said into your hair as he kissed the top of your head and moved away from you and up the stairs.

You made your way back into your bedroom as you heard Tom quietly move around his bedroom and take a shower. You heard the water shut off and five minutes later your door was creaking open. He had his pj’s on and he was smiling at you as you returned it from your curled up spot on the bed.

“Shift over.” He said and you did as he grabbed the duvet and climbed in next to you. You laid your head on his chest as he ran his hands through your hair. This was normal, you shared a bed often as both of you slept better, of course you never did if either of you were seeing someone or in a relationship but when you were single? You rarely spent a night apart unless he was away.

“God I’ve missed how warm you are.” He mumbled as he tightened his grip around you and you smiled. “I’ll tell you all about filming tomorrow but for right now I’m so tired and I haven’t had a good nights sleep in weeks.” He mumbled as you snuggled further into each other, letting sleep take you both.

You slept together often.

You and Tom had lost your virginities to each other. You both wanted someone you trusted to be your first time and couldn’t think of any other person you trusted more. It was sweet and it was fun and everything you would imagine losing your virginities to be. Tom was careful and sweet and took care of you before and after.

After that you found yourselves relieving each other often. Whenever one of you were horny the other would help out as best friends do, right? This ranged from all kinds of sex, rough, passionate, shower, morning, phone, you name it, whatever you were in the mood for you did. You didn’t think much of it, loads of people slept with their friends. Of course you never did this when either of you were in a relationship or seeing someone.

You also discussed anything sex related, good experiences, bad experiences. You discussed everything and anything sex related. You tried all sorts together, if either of you wanted to try something new you tried with each other because you could trust each other and you didn’t feel embarrassed about brining it up or not enjoying it.

You held hands a lot.

You’d decided to join Tom on his morning walk with Tess and as you were walking around the park he suddenly grabbed your hand and interlocked your fingers. You smiled as you squeezed his hand slightly. You held hands quite often when you were walking, you’d done it for years and neither of you thought much about it. You held hands when you were sat watching TV together. Or when you went to the cinema or well whenever really. It didn’t seem to matter, your hands just seemed to gravitate to one and other.

Your social medias are full of pictures together.

Your social media was almost mostly pictures of you and Tom and Tom’s pictures that weren’t promotion? Were you and Tom. Special birthday messages would appear on your social medias every year to each other. People thought you were together and you had to correct them and tell them that you were just very close friends. Of course the internet claimed you were too close and you’d never thought much about it until today.

You’d just split up with your boyfriend, Nick, you’d been together for four months and he’d told you he was in love with you. You couldn’t say it back, you found him attractive, of course but that spark hadn’t started so when he told you that his had you broke it off so you didn’t string him along. He wasn’t happy.

“I never stood a fucking chance did I?” He shouted at you.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” You snapped.

“You hold me to some ridiculous expectation that he’s set.” He growled at you and you rolled your eyes. Every single one of your exes had claimed that you were in love with Tom and that’s why you couldn’t love them back.

“He’s my best friend Nick. I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“You two are way too close. It’s intimidating living in his shadow.” He shouted again.

“I haven’t once said that I compare you!” You screamed.

“You don’t have to. You probably don’t know you’re doing it.” He snapped. “You know what? It’s my own fault, I saw the way you looked at each other when I first met you. I should have gone with my gut that you could never fully want me back. I’m leaving, do yourself a favour and start being honest with yourself or you’ll never be fucking happy.” He snapped before he made his way out of the door.

That was an hour ago and here you were, sat on the couch, talking to Tuwaine who had heard the whole thing because he happened to be in.

“I don’t get it Tuwaine, he’s my best friend why do people always think I’m in love with him?” You sighed.

“I think you know the answer to that.” Tuwaine said with a sad smile. “It’s me now, be honest. Why can’t you love any of these men back? Don’t answer straight away, I want you to really think.” He spoke again and you sat as you thought about it. Really thought about it.

They’d all cuddled you. Just not like Tom. They’d all been good in bed. It’s just Tom was better. They all played with your hair. Tom was just more gentle with it. They all held your hand. But their hands never felt as soft but at the same time rugged like Tom’s. You posted them on social media. But it was still full of you and Tom. They all comforted you when you cried. But Tom was the only one who knew how to comfort you properly. You told them everything. You just always told Tom first. They cuddled you in bed. But you still slept better when Tom was next to you. They all tried so hard to gain your heart. But they couldn’t because it’s Tom’s.

Why couldn’t you love them back? Because you are in love with Tom.

“Oh.” You simply said and Tuwaine laughed.

“Finally!” Tuwaine said. “Watching you two pine after each other whilst simultaneously being in a relationship has been the strangest thing I have ever witnessed.” He laughed and you furrowed your brows.

“What?”

“Come on. You sleep together, you cuddle all the time, you’re practically obsessed with one another.” Tuwaine said and you furrowed your brows deeper.

“It’s not funny Tuwaine, what am I gonna tell Tom?” You asked.

“The truth?” Tuwaine said as if it was the most obvious and easiest thing in the world.

“What if he doesn’t feel the same?” You worried as your heart beat sped up at all the possibilities running around your head.

“I have a hunch it’ll go the way you want it to.” Was all Tuwaine said as Tom came through the door and your heart jumped into your throat.

“Hey!” Tom said, face lighting up as he saw you.

“Well this is my cue to leave the house for a while.” Tuwaine said loudly.

“What?” Tom asked confused.

“I am not sticking around to listen to you two fuck.” He laughed as he made his way out of the door.

“What’s his deal?” Tom asked eyebrows almost in his hairline. You realised that this was your moment. You had to tell him, for you. Nick was right, you’ll only be happy if you be honest with yourself.

“I broke up with Nick.” You said.

“Oh princess, are you okay?” He asked as he went to make his way over to you but you put a hand out to stop him. He looked at you confused before you sighed and closed your eyes before opening them and speaking.

“Tom, I don’t really know how to say it so I’m just gonna say it. I’ve come to a realisation today and I need to get it off my chest. I am in love with you and it’s okay if you don’t feel the same, I think deep down I’ve known for a while but I’m in love with you.” You said and you felt like a huge weight had been lifted off your shoulders, it felt right to say it. You hadn’t looked at Tom yet, finding anything else in the room to stare at as you spoke. He didn’t say anything and your heart dropped.

You closed your eyes one last time before looking at him, ready to face the heart break but as soon as you looked at his face it was plastered with an amused grin. You furrowed your brows.

“What?” You asked.

“Finally.” Tom said. What?

“What do you mean finally?” You asked almost gobsmacked. You’d just told him you loved him and this is his reaction? You’d pictured many, but not this.

“What I say. I know you are and I’m in love with you.” He stated, amused smile still plastered all over his features.

“What, you mean, hang on. What?” You stumbled over your words.

“I’m in love with you, I’ve known for a couple of months, after I broke up with Lucy. Tuwaine made me see sense.” He said and you looked at him gobsmacked. Why hadn’t he told you?

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You voiced your confusion.

“Well you were still with Nick and you seemed pretty happy and I didn’t wanna upset you in case you hadn’t come to the realisation yet.” He shrugged and you laughed, genuinely laughed.

“So this entire time we’ve been running around playing house together and all we had to say was ‘I love you’ and we’d have saved ourselves all this time and effort on other people?” You laughed the more you thought about it. It really was ridiculous, everyone always said you were too close because you were always in a relationship without realising it. “I feel a bit ridiculous for not realising sooner.” You said.

“Yeah I felt like that until I realised that we’ve been close for so long it’s hard to pinpoint when I started loving you more than a friend, it just seemed so normal for us, you know. Tuwaine and Harrison called us soulmates.” He laughed.

“Not sure I believe in those but if you’re it then it’ll do.” You teased as he mocked offence and made his way over to you. “We always do fight like a couple.” You said as you realised Tom was the only person you ever had an argument with that was fuelled by passion. He hummed.

“We always do post about each other like a couple.” He said as his hands found your waist and yours found his shoulders.

“And hold hands like a couple do.” You said as his face inched closer to yours.

“Cuddle like a couple to.” He whispered face inching so much closer.

“Have special nicknames for each other.” You whispered, faces ridiculously close now.

“We most definitely fuck like a couple.” He whispered one last time, lips ghosting yours before closing the small amount of distance and capturing your lips. It was passionate and full of all the love everything you did always was. Your hands found his hair as you lightly tugged and he pulled you impossibly closer by your waist, tongue skimming your bottom lip for entrance which you happily granted. You stayed like that for a while before Tom eventually carried you upstairs. Tuwaine was smart to leave when he did.

#tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland one shot #tom holland x reader #tom holland fluff #tom holland x y/n

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sushi0989 · 3 years

Text

Pick Me If You Want To (part 3)

Summary: Set in the early 1950s, you are an aspiring photographer that is currently working at a toy store until you make your big break. During a surge of Christmas shopping, you are first met by Wanda Maximoff, a mother of twin boys and married. She leaves her gloves, which gives you the opportunity to meet her again. She takes fond of you, and you of her, but her messy divorce with her husband, Vision, risks the custody of her twins. Does she continue your blossoming relationship or fight for her kids? Based on the movie Carol

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

Warnings: smut and explicit content, don’t read if you’re under 18!

Word Count: 6k

A/N: After this chapter, I think it’s going to take me longer to get content written and published because I want to take my time with writing and making sure that it’s good before I post. Enjoy reading! <3

You and Wanda arrived at a rundown motel in Ohio to stay the night. You wished you had the ability to drive so that Wanda didn’t have to exert all of her energy, but alas you did not. Despite appearing a bit ragged on the outside, the interior of the motel was quaint and surprisingly polished. You dragged your ratchet luggage to the front desk while Wanda effortlessly tugged hers along since all four of her wheels were working properly unlike yours. She found your clumsiness adorable as she attempted to conceal her giggles while you struggled.

The old man at the front desk, however, was not amused by your failure at picking up your luggage as he found it frustrating since it was not that hard to maneuver. As the two of you reached him, he already filled out most of the form. You took notice of his posh demeanor even though this had to have been at most a 2-star motel. Who does he think he is? He wore a light blue dress shirt with a black tie, his shiny bald head was his most striking feature. His peppered gray goatee was thin and his thin-rimmed glasses were held together by tape in the middle.

“I have a two-bedroom suite on level 2 room number 3. Could I get your name and the number of nights you plan to stay?” he asked with little civility due to his irritants for your lack of professionalism. Wanda took notice of the man’s behavior and responded in the same manner.

“Wanda Maximoff and one night is enough. And why don’t you get some manners and help my friend with her bag instead of silently judging her?” Wanda huffed and raised an eyebrow. After he wrote down the information, the man cleared his throat and walked around the desk while muttering something under his breath that you couldn’t quite catch. He assumed that you lacked the knowledge of rolling your bag by the handle, but then he noticed that one of your wheels was broken and understood why you were struggling.

Wanda laughed at him, not making any attempt at hiding it this time. You couldn’t help but laugh with her and the two of you walked past him to get to your room. The man gave up and carried the luggage up to your room instead of dragging it along the carpet. The still night allowed your giggles to echo into the atmosphere, but it eventually stopped as you neared your room. Wanda unlocked it with a key the man, who was struggling with lifting the bag up the stairs, gave to her in the lobby.

There was nothing too alluring about the room, it was quite average. The two twin beds, both an interesting orange color with stripes, had a few feet of space in between them. There was a window next to the front door with curtains that matched the color of the bedsheets. The bathroom had the basics: a shower, toilet, sink, and soap. You were surprised there was toilet paper as well.

“I expected worse,” you admitted with a pleasantly surprised expression as you took in the room. You heard the man’s heavy panting get louder as he neared your room, practically stumbling when he placed your luggage inside.

“That’s what happens when you make assumptions without doing a bit of digging,” Wanda teased, the man rolled his eyes and muttered “Merry Christmas” as he left. She quickly shut the door while you flopped back into the bed nearest to the bathroom, claiming it as yours.

“If I’m feeling this tired then you must be exhausted. You should get some rest,” you told Wanda who opened up her bag and pulled out some pajamas. You watched as she dug through to look for something, her eyebrows furrowing in concentration and her teeth nipping at her bottom lip.

“I will, I want to take a shower first, but I can’t seem to find my towel,” Wanda continued rummaging through her bag, but you understood by her huffing and puffing that she must have forgotten to pack it. “Here, let me get mine out of my bag,” you insisted and rose from your bed. Wanda assured you she brought it even though you both knew she didn’t. “Oh, please it’s no big deal. I’ll take a shower in the morning and I’m sure it’ll dry by then,” you waved her off as you easily found your towel in your luggage.

You handed her your light purple towel and she hesitantly took it with a sigh, there was nothing she could really do; either accept your offering or try to find a rag in the cabinet that would most likely be moldy.

“Thank you very much,” she smiled with gratitude and you nodded back, her smile bringing a shiver up your spine and fluttering in your stomach. It was something about that dark red lipstick that made you go crazy. No. You can’t let her get to you or else this is going to be another Steve situation where you’ll end up breaking her heart. Besides that she is a soon-to-be divorced mother of two children, you definitely aren’t ready for that. But her lips.

Wanda blushed when she saw you staring her lips up and down, but then you got flustered when you realized that she caught you and quickly turned away. Neither of you mentioned it, so Wanda made her way into the bathroom but caught a glimpse of you smiling at your thoughts.

While Wanda showered, you could hear her humming some songs you had never heard. It was pure bliss to your ears as you laid on the bed staring at the ceiling. How were you falling for this woman so quickly? A woman. You would have never thought you would be head over heels for a woman in this day and age. Sure, you’ve had some crushes on girls, but you would brush them away since it was taboo. But with Wanda, there was something more alluring about her. Maybe it was the fact that she seemed to reciprocate those feelings back to you.

The way she comforted you when Steve left was something you were so grateful for, but that is what was sending you to your tipping point. You knew that this wasn’t just you craving her touch, but also her heart. Right now, however, you needed to make sure you were also there for her. She’s in the midst of a heated divorce with her husband and about to lose her husband, so you couldn’t take advantage of her vulnerability. If she wants to get closer, then she will have to make the first move.

“Go with the flow,” you muttered to yourself as you pulled at your fingers.

“What was that?” Wanda hummed as she stepped out of the bathroom, your towel wrapped around her body and steam infiltrating out of the bathroom. Her body was moist and glistening from the excess water, her hair sopping wet with water dripping from them. You were speechless. You immediately covered your eyes out of respect.

“God, I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to stare,” you quickly apologized which earned a chuckle from Wanda. “Oh don’t worry you can look. I’m covered up, am I not?” she teased and bit her lip seeing you fluster at her response. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” you continued to ramble. “Please, would you think I would come out like this if I was uncomfortable?” she questioned, but you didn’t answer.

“Well, the answer is no. I forgot to bring my clothes with me into the bathroom,” she stated as she walked over to her bed where her pajamas were neatly folded. You gradually lowered your hands from her face and glanced at her state. Damn, did she make your towel look so good on her.

She picked up her clothes and scuttled back into the bathroom and you sighed. Trying to not make the first move was going to be extremely difficult for you.

Your thoughts began to wash over one another as sleep loomed over you. You were completely passed out by the time Wanda was out of the bathroom. You were lying on your side in fetal position on top of your sheets. Wanda quietly walked towards you and gently pulled the folded blanket over you and made sure it covered your whole body. She watched as you nuzzled your head deeper into your pillow and let out a sigh when you cuddled the blanket for warmth.

Wanda ingrained this moment in her mind and quietly left the room in search of the motel’s telephone which she spotted near the stairs that led to the first floor. She dialed a phone number and stood patiently until she heard the line connect.

“Hello?” a groggy voice answered. “Vision, let me speak to the boys,” Wanda requested with a hushed voice. “They’re already in bed, Wanda. It’s nearly 11 pm,” he replied with annoyance. Wanda bit her lip, she just wanted to talk to her children and wish them a Merry Christmas since she didn’t get the chance to in the morning.

“Vision, please,” Wanda didn’t want to beg, but she missed her boys. She wanted to see their faces lit up as they unwrapped the train set she had ordered. The train set you recommended.

She heard Vision sigh as he stepped away from the phone. “Hello?” a high-pitched tired voice answered. “Merry Christmas, Tommy! Is Billy with you, too?” Wanda’s heart warmed hearing the voice of her child. She yearned to hug them and kiss the tops of their heads.

“Yeah, I’m right here, Mom,” Billy replied also with a tired voice. Wanda smiled to herself listening to them, she imagined them standing there half asleep rubbing their eyes.

“How was your Christmas? Did you enjoy the train set?” Wanda asked. She knew they would love it because they were into building things and using their imaginations, just as she and Pietro would also do as children.

“It was so cool! We played with it all day, thank you, mom!” The two of them responded at the same time, making Wanda chuckle. The cool wind outside began to pick up causing Wanda to shiver.

“Okay boys, go to bed. I’m sorry I woke you. Be nice to your dad and grandparents and I’ll see you both when you get back,” she said sternly trying not to let her voice break. The twins said their ‘I love you’s’ and hung up the phone.

Wanda sighed as she went back to your room and silently shut the door once again. She turned off the lamps that lit the room and got into her own bed facing you. She stared at you as she dozed off as well, your peaceful expression being the last thing on her mind as she fell into a deep slumber once her exhaustion hit her.

The morning sunlight seeped through the cheap curtains of the hotel room and shined directly into your face. As you became aware of your surroundings, you could hear the birds singing outside filling the atmosphere with their beautiful tunes. You opened your eyes facing away from the window so you wouldn’t blind yourself.

A faint rhythmic snoring caught your attention, so you turned around seeing Wanda sprawled out on her bed still sleeping soundly. One could easily disregard it, but the room was so quiet that you couldn’t help but take in this moment. You didn’t find it to be obnoxious, unlike Steve’s. His snores would start deep in his throat and wake you even when you’re blacked out. You eventually convinced him to get diagnosed with sleep apnea and he had to learn some breathing exercises to lessen them, but they still persisted and now you could proudly say you can sleep through a train passing by.

You figured you should get up and take a shower now before Wanda does so that you guys could hit the road as soon as you could. You stretched your back once you sat up on your bed and saw your towel draped on a chair sitting in the corner of the room. You were reminded of Wanda’s after shower figure: wrapped up in your towel, red hair dripping wet, body shining from the condensation of the steamy shower, and now you were going to use that same towel.

You picked out a casual outfit to wear so you could be comfortable on the drive and you quietly slipped into the shower as to not wake up Wanda. You let the shower run for a minute so the hot water would come through, and it relaxed your body as it hit your skin. Wanda left her shampoo and soap sitting on the side of the tub, so you figured it would be okay to use it for yourself. The smell of peaches was pleasant, you could only imagine how it would smell on Wanda. As you finished up, you rubbed lotion on yourself before putting on your clothes.

The cooler air of the room was a punch to the face, but you received another punch when you saw Wanda’s backside completely bare, only wearing her undergarments. Thankfully she didn’t notice you come out of the bathroom drooling at her appearance, so you stumbled back into the bathroom making sure you gave no indication you exited in the first place.

Wanda heard the click of the bathroom door and quickly turned around only to see no one there. She briskly put on her black slacks, a blue blazer over a white blouse, and tied a red ribbon around her neck, and knocked on the bathroom door to let you know that it’s okay to come out.

“Don’t worry I didn’t see anything,” you stammered as you walked out of the bathroom trying to be nonchalant about the situation. “Are you saying I look bad with no clothes?” Wanda faked being hurt with an exaggerated gasp, but you took it literally.

“What?! Of course not! I didn’t say that! You look grea- I mean, you look perfectly fine,” you replied defensively but bit down on your tongue to try not to embarrass yourself more. “I’m just teasing you, darling. Enough of that, we need to hit the road if we want to get to Chicago by tomorrow tonight,” she exclaimed, resuming packing up her clothes.

You decided to leave your towel out and laid it across the back seat of the car to let it dry. The old man from last night was replaced by a younger-looking man who seemed to be much nicer. He was happy to assist you in taking your broken luggage into the car without any hesitation. He insisted that the two of you try out the breakfast that the motel provided to their ‘esteemed guests’ in the dining hall.

“I felt so esteemed last night by Mr. Baldyhead,” you muttered under your breath as you and Wanda walked to the breakfast bar. Wanda snorted when attempting to suppress her laughter at your comment. There were more people than you had expected.

You gathered eggs, a couple of pancakes, and strawberries onto your plate and took a seat at an empty table towards the center of the room. Wanda was still eyeing the bar, so you waited to begin eating until she came. A man with sleek combed back hair in a suit gave a sly smile at you from the table seated at the table next to you. You reciprocated by giving a shy smile back and he proceeded to get up to introduce himself.

“The name is Loki Odinson, lovely to meet you two ladies,” he held out his hand in front of you and you brought up yours to shake it. “Nice to meet you as well, my name is y/n, '' you replied with a timid voice.

“What is a beautiful young woman like you sitting here all alone?” he inquired as he turned his head to see if anyone was with you. “I’m not alone, my friend is still gathering some food,” you pointed at Wanda who was now on her way. She had a confused look when she noticed the mysterious tall man, and he looked over at her and nodded in understanding.

“Hello?” Wanda said to the man with her eyebrow raised, “Do you need anything, sir?” He took a few steps back over to his table, “No, no, I just was making small talk with y/n over here. What brought the two of you here?” he asked, obviously wanting to continue the conversation. He must be alone and bored, so he’s just trying to keep himself busy, that’s what you told yourself at least.

“We are actually heading to Chicago, this is just a pit stop for us,” Wanda explained as she relaxed once she realized the man was harmless. She took notice that you had been waiting for her before beginning to eat, so she lightly kicked your foot to get your attention to tell you to eat.

“I’m headed there, too! I’m actually a traveling salesman so this is my daily life to go from one place to another,” he exclaimed with excitement. He continued to explain how he first acquired his job and what he’s doing now as you and Wanda listened intently to him, finding his outlandish stories entertaining.

“So when my dad kicked me out of the house, I went down a really dark path and got roped up in some illegal schemes. The big boss guy of this cartel wanted me to go undercover and infiltrate their rival to steal this gem that originally belonged to him, and since I was new, no one would suspect me of being a double agent. Anyways, it didn’t go over well because my brother, who works for the authorities, caught both cartels and, me being his brother, he let me go. That led me to discover my passion for sales marketing and exploring cities, so here I am now!” He concluded his very long story.

“You were part of a drug cartel?” you asked in disbelief. This guy definitely talked way too much to be a part of a cartel, somebody would surely shoot him in the face to get him to shut up. “I know it may seem crazy at first, but I assure you it’s no lie,” he laughed, but you and Wanda looked at each other with wide eyes.

After talking to the man for another twenty minutes, and him attempting to sell you some magazines, the two of you finally got up from the dining hall.

“I need to make a phone call to Monica, why don’t you go get settled in the car and I’ll meet you there,” Wanda touched your shoulder and you nodded, trying to ignore the tingling feeling of her hand on you.

“Hello Monica, how’s it going?” Wanda spoke into the phone.

“Vision came by my house looking for you. He was drunk and I told him off. I also might have told him you were going to Chicago with y/n,” she said hesitantly. “Don’t worry, I’m sure he won’t do anything, Wands,” Monica tried lightening the mood, but the pit in Wanda’s stomach said something otherwise. “He’s trying to take full custody of the boys, Mon. He’s gonna poke and prod through any little misgivings of mine he can find to make sure of it. And I don’t want him getting his hands anywhere near y/n. I’ll call you when we reach the next stop, thank you for everything Monica,” Wanda hung up the phone and took a few deep breaths to collect herself.

There was no way he could find anything that could sway the judge in his favor. She was their mother for the love of god. What kind of monster takes a mother away from her children?

Wanda entered the car and forced a smile at you which you didn’t think much of. You two finally left the small Ohio motel and were back on the road. This time you wanted to ask Wanda more about her life story since you spilled all of yours leading up to the first pit stop.

“Oh well, my parents were quite well off thanks to my grandparents. Their marriage was arranged so all of my life my twin brother, Pietro, and I had to endure their bickering on a daily basis. He was and still is, one of my best friends. We would run off into the woods to this little pond that was so clear that you could almost see the bottom where the crabs would crawl. We’d spend most of our time creating imaginary worlds and pretending we were in the old wild west or flappers in the 1920s or knights in the renaissance. Those are the memories that outshine the terribles of my childhood,” she smiled as she reminisced, you were leaning the back of your head against the window watching her while listening intently.

Her smile faltered, a sad one replacing it. “When my parents tragically died in a freak accident when we were 10, Pietro and I had to move in with my mother’s parents. Living with them was nice, but they couldn’t handle us so we were shipped off to separate boarding schools. Pietro went to an all-boys one while I attended an all-girls one. Being without him really… sucked. My first few months there were miserable until I met Monica. She became my bestest friend and we still are to this day,” she let out a slight chuckle and you smiled with her.

Wanda glanced at you for a moment as she contemplated her next statement. “She was also my first love,” you raised your eyebrows and bit the insides of your cheeks. Your assumptions from earlier were correct then, but it still hurt to hear it out loud.

“Interesting,” you replied and turned away to look out the window, making Wanda furrow her eyes at your sudden change in demeanor. You knew you had no right in being mad at her, they obviously weren’t together anymore. But you couldn’t hide your slight jealousy, and Wanda thought it was a bit endearing that you cared so much.

“Anyways, so the two of us were together for a few years until we realized it wasn’t meant to be, but we stayed very close friends. My grandparents arranged for me to marry Vision because it would be a good step for our family businesses since his family was a rival to mine, but we went on a few dates before we settled on the engagement. Being married to him was nice at first, and then we had the twins, and then things went downhill from there I suppose,” Wanda shrugged her shoulders and sighed.

You were now feeling guilty for your rude behavior, so you put your hand on her leg to show your sympathy. “Sorry for being rude right there,” you apologized and Wanda assured you that it was okay.

Wanda knew you might be wary of answering her next question, but she figured after spending over twelve hours with you on the road the two of you had grown quite close. You already had ripped out a fart which signified you were already pretty comfortable around her.

“How did you meet Steve?” she pressed her lips together when she felt you tense up against her even though your side was barely touching her.

“We met through a mutual friend and we hit it off pretty well. My friend set us up on a date after seeing us connect so well the first time we met, and then it just blossomed from there. He and I worked well for the first year we were together, the honeymoon phase is what people call it I hear. We were two people madly in love, but he just never matured as time went on. He always expected me to make breakfast or do his laundry out of my love for him,” you explained while pulling at your fingers. You felt fine speaking about him for once, you didn’t feel guilty anymore for breaking up. That was all thanks to Wanda and her assurances.

Wanda nodded in agreement, she knew by how you were that you loved being independent and striving to meet your dreams without anything or anyone weighing you down. Steve was dead weight to you achieving your aspiration of being a photographer. He didn’t even have the decency to get you a good camera.

“Well, I’m glad you broke things off with him because he obviously didn’t know how to treat you right. You are a lovable person, don’t think twice about that,” Wanda gestured for you to come closer to her, so you pressed your side up against hers and relaxed your posture.

Wanda placed her right hand on her lap trying to get you to place yours on top, and you took the hint and inched yours slowly but surely up to it. Wanda smiled when feeling your grip tighten around her hand. You felt safe with her, that you could trust her words. As the car ride went on, you fell asleep, your head resting on Wanda’s shoulder and she didn’t make an attempt to shrug it off. She enjoyed the feeling of you on her.

The next motel was much nicer than the last one, even the workers were much nicer than the bald guy. It was late in the afternoon when the two of you arrived, the both of you starving only having had breakfast in the morning. Once you both had settled, you suggested you go to a nicer restaurant for dinner which Wanda immediately agreed to, both deciding to wear fancy dresses to blend in. The two of you snuck into the fancy five-star hotel across the street and nonchalantly chatted to not draw attention.

The waitress asked for your room number and name, “Maximoff, room 623,” you answered without hesitation and Wanda gave you a knowing look. “Right this way, Mrs. Maximoff,” the waitress gestured and led the two of you to a table with two chairs.

You were in the mood to really satisfy your tastebuds, so you chose to order lobster. Wanda looked at you wide-eyed, but you gave her a cheeky smile with a wink, so she ordered filet mignon. As the two of you waited for the food, the conversation came so easily between the two of you. Effortless.

“You sang very nicely in the shower this morning,” Wanda commented while taking a sip of her red wine. You raised your eyebrows, “I didn’t know you were awake. I would’ve shut up if I had known I was too loud.”

Wanda waved you off, “Oh please, I enjoyed it. It was almost as good as the first time you sang to me.” You blushed, but the wine in your system gave you a newfound sense of confidence that urged you to continue the banter.

“If you liked it so much then why don’t I sing you to sleep tonight?” you suggested seductively with a smirk. Wanda was a bit thrown back that you countered back, but she wasn’t complaining. She liked this side of you.

“I wouldn’t mind that,” she replied with a low tone, biting her lip at the thought.

When the bill came, you told them to place it on the tab and the waitress nodded quickly. Wanda laughed so hard to the point she snorted which caused you to laugh at her. It was a nice moment, one you wish could last forever.

The two of you were buzzed, giggling all the way back to your motel room and it only continued once you were there. Wanda pulled out a bottle of champagne from her bag and popped it open, the cork leaving a small dent on the wall. This caused you to roll on the floor with laughter, you each took swigs straight out of the bottle which only added to your drunken state.

You were both sitting on the floor right next to each other leaning your backs against one of the beds. “Are you going to sing to me now?” Wanda inquired with her champagne bottle pointed at you. “Well if you insist, M'lady,” you replied as you cleared your throat.

The only lyrics you could remember at the moment were the song you had sung to her while playing the piano. This time as you sang, you stared into her enchanting emerald eyes, your gaze never wavering from them so she knew every word was directed at her.

“Everybody loves somebody sometime. And though my dreams were overdue, your love made it all worth waiting for someone like you,” as you finished the song, you noticed Wanda leaning forward, so you did as well. Her lips slightly puckered out and her eyes were closed, so as you neared her, you closed yours and anticipated for the moment your lips were in contact with hers.

Even though you were expecting it, the feeling was completely different than what you had expected. She was the light at the end of a very long and dark tunnel you had been lost in your entire life. You always thought Steve was meant to be it, but no, he wasn’t. You were completely wrong and now you had your answer.

Wanda’s lips were soft but also overwhelmingly persistent at trying to savor every little bit of you. Your hands were gripping her waist, slowly massaging it as her hands rubbed your neck. The alcohol made your actions clumsy and less methodical, it was more about rushing to get to what you had been craving for quite some time.

One of her hands caressed your bare legs and slowly made its way up to your dress. You shuddered, but you wanted more. You tugged her arms to get her up onto the bed, unzipping her dress from behind and allowing it to fall to the ground when you had her stand up.

Your eyes met with Wanda’s hungry eyes as she turned around, she launched at you crashing your lips together once again as if she was a breath of fresh air after drowning at sea for so long. She pulled down the straps of your dress, allowing it to fall as well, both of your chests now bare. The back of her legs felt the bed behind her, and so she allowed herself to lie back onto it.

You climbed on top of her, your legs straddling her torso, and you continued to kiss her lips passionately. You trailed kisses down her jaw to her neck before settling on a point of her neck that caused her to sigh deeply. She guided your hands to feel her chest, and you obeyed, allowing your hands to sensually massage them.

“Please touch me,” she pleaded, letting out another sigh. You trailed your mouth and latched onto her nipple and your tongue circled around them. You allowed your hands to glide on her stomach and down to the band of her underwear, tugging them down. You gave the same attention to her other nipple and Wanda couldn’t hold the moan she was trying so hard to suppress.

Your tongue made her feel like she was jelly, each kiss you gave held so much passion and love that she had been craving from the first time she had spoken to you. The glint in your eyes told her all of the potential you had hidden within you, and now you were expressing it to her.

You continued your kisses down her stomach, her back arching with each one from the sensitivity building up inside of her. You kneeled at the edge of the bed and pulled her towards you by her legs. You kissed her inner thighs up until you were met with her core which was radiating heat. You gave a languid lick on her sensitive center and she tried squeezing her legs together at the feelings, but you forced them apart by putting them over your shoulders.

“I’m not done with you yet,” you retorted with a smirk and Wanda grabbed the sheets into her hands to brace herself for what was going to come next. You latched your mouth onto her clit, giving slow circles with your tongue to tease her. Her moans were soft, but you knew she wanted more, so you then slipped one finger inside of her causing her to gasp.

You pumped your finger in and out slowly while continuing to lick her clit, and the feeling was becoming all too much for Wanda, but you persisted. You felt her grinding her hip to create more friction and her hands were pushing the back of your head into her more. You added in a second finger making Wanda whimper, but she hadn’t asked you to stop yet.

You felt her walls clenching against your fingers, so you went faster. She cursed obscenities which only motivated you more, you curled your fingers making Wanda let out one last moan originating from her gut. You slowed down and took your fingers out of her, licking up the juices she released making sure not to add to her sensitivity.

Her legs were shaking and you knew she was exhausted already from the car ride. You crawled up onto the bed next to her and she cuddled up to you, her head tucked into the crook of your neck. She leaned in and kissed you, tasting herself in your mouth. “All I asked was for you to sing to me, but you really outdid yourself with that,” she whispered against your lips.

“Maybe I just wanted to listen to you sing to me,” you chuckled as you pecked her lips and pulled the sheets over the two of you. Wanda furrowed her eyebrows, “Hey we’re not sleeping yet, I still haven’t gotten my turn with you.”

She seductively bit her lip as she threw the sheets off of you and straddled you. “I’m not gonna stop you,” you smirked and she leaned down and kissed your neck, not even attempting to stop the sigh that escaped your lips. You knew this was going to be one long night that you were going to never forget.

When the two of you woke up in each other’s arms, you dreaded getting up, you just wanted to lie in that position forever, but it was time to hit the road again. You freshened up in the bathroom while Wanda said she was going to go check out in the lobby.

“Mrs. Maximoff, right?” the woman behind the counter confirmed. Wanda nodded her head and the lady gave an envelope with her name written on it. “It came by this morning for you,” she explained and Wanda frowned as she tore it open.

Wanda’s heart dropped, letting out an audible gasp as she marched her way to the car where you were putting in the last of your things. You saw Wanda’s face and you furrowed your eyebrows at her. “Wanda? What’s wrong?” you questioned, but she was completely frantic at the moment.

“Where’s my suitcase? Where’s my fucking suitcase?” Wanda kept shouting as she dug through the trunk. She found it and pulled out a revolver and your heart literally stopped. “Wanda, you’re scaring me,” you said, but she continued to march over to the room that was right next to yours from the night before it and slammed it open. You trailed behind her.

That’s when you saw Loki standing in his sleepwear with a set up of cameras and audio recorders located right at the shared wall with your room. Wanda was furious and pointed the gun at him. “Where is the tape?” she demanded and Loki gulped the frog in his throat.

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda #fanfic #marvel #avengers #wandavision

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amysteryspot · 4 years

Text

Just Tonight - Thomas Shelby x Fem!Reader

Requested: No

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Female Reader

Summary: The Shelby boys had returned from France in time for Christmas, but as (Y/N) expected, things weren't that easy to deal with for none of them.

Warnings: Smut (NSFW/+18), swearing, mentions of drinking and death.

Word Count: 3027

A/N: Oooooooooooooookay this turned out a lot more angstier and smuttier than I first predicted for something that is supposed to be a holiday fic. This is loosely based on the storyline used on "Better with you" and "Out of time". It's better if you've read those first, but it's not required. I really, really hope that you enjoy it. As always, your feedback is highly appreciated.

Song recomended: Sober by Loreen

(Y/N) = Your Name | (Y/N/N) = Your Nickname | (Y/E/C) = Your Eye Color

English is not my first language and this wasn’t proofread by a beta.

If you want to be tagged in my stories, just send me a message.

(gif by @nofckingfighting)

It was Christmas again. (Y/N) couldn’t ignore the irony of it all. When the Shelby’s and her father had left Small Heat with the rest of the man to go to France, the promise was that they would be back before Christmas. Well, they did return before Christmas, just four years later than they believed they would.

She had lost the spark to celebrate the holiday after they left. In 1914, she and her mother had joined Polly, Ada, Martha, and the kids on Christmas Eve. The next year it was just her and the rest of the Shelby clan. Somewhere along the way, (Y/N) had lost hope that the boys would ever return.

Her fears had been proved wrong two weeks ago when Arthur, Tommy, and John stepped out of the train in Small Heat. And even as relief washed through her, it took (Y/N) a second to recognize that the men who came back weren’t the same who had left.

The past few days had been strange, hard to deal with. It wasn’t easy for the men to be back and it wasn’t easy for the women to get used to having them back around. Everyone was learning how to deal with all the changes and as (Y/N) had learned from a young age, the process wasn’t always smooth.

“Let’s say our prayers,” Polly announced as she sat down.

Tommy scoffed and (Y/N) nudged him with her knee, making him roll his eyes, taking her hand in his as all of them closed their eyes as Polly prayed.

It was strange, all of them sitting there, around the same table, eating, drinking, and celebrating when so many of them didn’t have the opportunity to return. Tommy had never been a man of God, especially after his mother died, and his father left, and after Greta. Certainly not since he signed his name to go to war. (Y/N) knew that better than anyone.

“It’s good to have you all back,” Ada announced, after a long moment of silence, eyeing her brothers from behind the rim of her glass.

“It’s good to be back,” John mumbled when his brothers failed to do so.

“This is a little bit different than what we got used to,” Polly commented, smiling.

In the past years, they had lost (Y/N)’s mother and Martha, the first two years weren’t all that good, so hunger was something they had to get used to. Now, with the betting shop going steady and the boys back, there was more reason to celebrate than normal.

“Yeah, I can’t imagine how hard it has been,” Tommy sneered, laughing sarcastically.

(Y/N) looked up at Polly who just shook her head.

“It wasn’t easy staying behind, Tom,” Ada reasoned, looking at her older brother.

“Yeah, I can’t imagine how hard it was. Staying here, in the comfort of the house, while we were…”

(Y/N) interjected before he could continue and make a bigger mess out of something that was already difficult, “It’s not a competition, Tommy. We know it wasn’t easy for you all out there, but staying here wasn’t easy too. One thing doesn’t erase the other.”

He looked at her then, nothing but ice on his glare, knuckles white from gripping the fork too tight, but said nothing in return, huffing his disagreement.

Silence fell on the table again, the only noises that could be heard were the ones from the cutlery scraping against the plates. This certainly wasn’t the celebration all of them had in mind.

Saying that the rest of the meal was tense would be an understatement. The children ended up easing up the mood, and (Y/N) thanked God if He was listening, for that little blessing.

After they finished, (Y/N) was collecting the dishes to go wash then when Polly stopped her.

“You did most of the cooking, let me and Ada finish the cleaning. Go sit by the fire with a drink and rest a little bit.

(Y/N) didn’t fell for Polly’s act even a little bit. She knew very well what the Shelby’s matriarch wanted—for her and Tommy to make amends over a drink by the fire.

John had gone home with the children, Finn was already with Arthur on the parlour, the oldest Shelby was probably already half-way drunk, considering the amount of alcohol consumed during the meal. She was a little bit tipsy herself, all of them were, in some way, except for the children.

Sighing, (Y/N) picked up her glass from the table, ignoring Ada’s complaints on the background, and headed to the place she wanted to avoid.

As she had guessed, Arthur was almost passed out in one of the couches, a bottle of whiskey by his side. Finn was curled up beside him, one of Arthur’s hand protectively on the boy’s shoulders, as the child dozed off.

She couldn’t contain the smile that appeared on her lips and faltered a little bit when she looked at the other side of the room, finding Tommy sitting there in silence, contemplating the fire.

(Y/N) ignored his eyes on her as she went to pour herself a glass of gin and chose to sit down on the armchair, instead of the couch. What she couldn’t ignore was the frown on his face as she settled down.

None of them said anything for a while, long enough for Arthur’s snores to take over the place.

“I should put Finn to bed,” (Y/N) said, putting her glass down on the center table, meaning to get up.

“Let them stay there,” Tommy’s voice startled her and she turned her head in his direction to see him getting up from the couch and placing his glass on the table, besides hers. “Common, let’s go upstairs,” he invited, extending his hand to her.

(Y/N) sighed, knowing that whatever ruffle started between them never lasted long, and silently accepted his invitation, letting him guide her up the stairs. They were both slightly drunk, but that wasn’t enough to prevent her from hesitating at his door—the room brought her too many memories. The last time they were there alone had been on the night before he left to war—the night she had given herself to him.

Tommy must have noticed her hesitation, leading her inside with a gentle pull, and closing the door behind them.

“Polly said that you wouldn’t enter the room for weeks after we left.”

(Y/N) hummed in answer, watching him sit down on the bed and pat the spot beside him for her to follow. She obliged, studying the peeling wallpaper for a moment.

“And then I wouldn’t leave it, ‘cause it smelled like you,” she admitted, choosing to ignore the little smirk that appeared on his lips, “Until it didn’t anymore and I stayed anyway because it was the closest thing I had of you.”

She looked at him then, to find his gaze already on her, a solemn expression on his face as he assured “You have me now.”

“Do I?” (Y/N) asked, blinking slowly as she felt his hand take hers in between both of his.

She wasn’t certain about anything anymore. They had known each other for all of her life, gone through terrible things that only brought them together even more. But since the day they said their farewells at the train station, (Y/N) wasn’t sure about their feelings for one another anymore.

“You always had,” he assured, not a hint of doubt on his face, “since the moment your mother put that tiny bundle of covers in my arms and you stared back at me with these bright (Y/E/C) eyes of yours.”

He smiled at her, one of those barely-there smiles that were Tommy’s Shelby signature, turning his body toward her, so they were face to face. “You’ll always have me, wanting it or not.”

“As if I ever won’t,” (Y/N) murmured, shyly, more to herself than to him.

Tommy smirked, bringing her closer, cradling her face in between his hands. “Good,” he praised, low and deep, placing a kiss on her forehead, and then a second time, louder and clearer, “Good. ‘Cause I have some plans and I’ll need you by my side.”

“God help us! Thomas Shelby has plans,” she jested as a way to lighten the mood. It only worked for a brief moment, as he smiled and shook his head, but his hands never left her skin as he came closer to her, their noses brushing against each other.

Looking up at him through heavy eyelids, (Y/N) said his name as a warning, one Tommy chooses to ignore, leaning in to extinguish the final bit of space separating them and bringing their mouths together.

(Y/N) doesn’t fight him. Don’t believe she has it in her to refuse him, not when she, herself, had been craving his touch since the moment they said their goodbyes before he left for France years ago. Since he had touched her, made love to her the night before he left. Since the moment he kissed her for the first time when she was fifteen.

She kisses him back, holding his wrists between her fingers, as hungry as he is to get a taste.

“Tommy,” she protests again, weakly, the feeling of his lips trailing down her neck to her collarbone fogging her mind. “Tommy, we shouldn’t.”

He growls in disapproval, lips never leaving her skin, as his hands trail down her body, catching her by the waist and hoisting her up to his lap.

She gasps, not yet used with this new source of strength that the war provided him with. Memories that she tried so hard to bury come flooding her mind.

“I need you,” he breaths against her skin, “Just tonight.”

Taking his face in between her hands, (Y/N) forces him to look at her. He looks lost, like a boat that was left adrift, desperately looking for something that can bring him back to the shore. The look in his eyes is more vulnerable than seductive as he just stays there, unmoving, gazing back at her, waiting for an answer, just as she did years ago.

(Y/N) gives in, nodding. His lips are on hers in a heartbeat, hands grabbing at her hips and bringing her flush against his body. They both moan at the slight friction as her legs tighten around his hips.

Desperately, they start to unbutton each other’s clothes in a hurry to get the skin on skin contact. When she is down to her undergarments, having taken pity on him and freed herself from the slip, his eyes travel down her body, taking in every inch of exposed skin.

She remembers their first time together, how he did the same thing, looking down at her as if trying to engrave the image on his mind and (Y/N) suddenly feels vulnerable.

Tommy doesn’t give her much time to think, spinning them around and laying her down onto the mattress. His mouth explores her skin like it was a map he has to memorize. He places open-mouthed kisses along her collarbone and chest, unfastening the brassiere to kiss, lick and nibble at her breasts, chuckling against her skin as she takes a fist of his hair in between her fingers, tugging it not so gently at the feeling of one of her nipples being dragged against his teeth.

He tortures her with his ministrations until he is satisfied with the writhing mess she’d become. Then his kisses move down, and down until they reach the waistband of her bloomers.

Looking up at her, hunger in his eyes, Tommy hooks his fingers on the fabric, bringing it down her legs, along with her stockings, leaving her bare before him.

Again, he takes a moment to look down at her through heavy eyelids. She is not sure about what she sees in his cold eyes, but whatever it is, it brings a shiver down her spine.

Partying her legs, Tommy lays down on his stomach, bringing her calves to rest on his shoulders. (Y/N) lets her head fall back, closing her eyes at the feeling of his fingers parting her lips and his tongue licking up a stripe from her entrance to her clit.

She moans against her palm, trying to muffle the sound, her other hand fisting the sheets as he chuckles.

“Patience, love,” he purred, “I’ve been waiting for that for too long, let me enjoy you.”

Her mind can’t register the words, not when his mouth was on her again, kissing, and licking, and nibling, making her go crazy. (Y/N) didn’t remember the last time that a man had willingly done that, much less if any had made her feel this way with just his mouth.

(Y/N) has to bite down her lower lip to prevent any sounds from coming out of her mouth as she feels one of his fingers slipping into her.

Tommy doesn’t seem pleased by it, “Common now, (Y/N/N), don’t hold back. I want to hear you.”

“Your siblings are on the house,” she warns.

“From what I remember you weren’t worried about that the last time,” he retorts back, mirth dripping from his voice. “Besides, they’ve heard worse. John went back home with the kids, I’m pretty sure that Finn and Ada left with Polly, Arthur is too drunk to bother. You have nothing to worry about.”

She doesn’t get a chance to fight back when he adds a second finger to the first and licks at her clit at the same time. (Y/N) almost doesn’t recognize the sound that leaves her lips.

“That’s it, good girl,” he praises, fingers curling inside of her and making her curse under her breath. “Don’t hold back, come for me. I want to feel you coming all around my fingers. Want to know how it tastes.”

It’s all too much for her to handle. Having him back home, safe and sound, the feeling of one of his hands holding her down as his fingers play with her, the sound of his voice praising her… Her eyes close, toes curling as pleasure washes over her body.

She comes to her senses again with the feeling of his lips on hers. (Y/N)’s hands find the back of his neck to bring him closer, savouring the heady taste of her on his tongue.

He breaks the kiss, getting rid of the rest of his clothes in a hurry as she watches, getting acquainted with this new version of him. She had patched him up enough times to distinguish his old scars from the new ones. He was stronger, had more muscle on his bones, looked sharper when he had been softer before.

There was no denying that the man who came back from the war wasn’t the same that left for it.

Joining her again, he positions himself between her legs, holding himself up on his elbows, as he kisses her again. Both of them take a sharp intake of breath when their bodies meet. He rocks against her, the friction making her hiss against his lips.

“Don’t tease,” she half warns, half begs.

Tommy smiles, parting her folds with one hand and rubbing his cock against her cunt, swearing against her ear.

“So wet,” he coos, rolling them around again, so she is straddling him.

He pulls her close, resting her forehead against his as she positions herself over him. Tommy’s strong hands guide her down his cock slowly. The feeling is better than what (Y/N) remembered and she has to fight the urge to just close her eyes and get lost in the sensation.

Maybe it would’ve been better if she had because the look of pure awe in his eyes is something that (Y/N) doesn’t know if she will be able to forget.

She lets him guide her at first. He is surprisingly gentle, waiting for her to get used to the stretch, setting a slow pace as he helps her move, dropping praises at her ear, of how good she feels, how wet she is, how well she is taking him.

It doesn’t take long for her to feel the familiar sensation of pleasure pooling down at the low of her belly, encouraging her to pick up a rhythm of her own. Hands grabbing at his shoulders for leverage, (Y/N) rolls her hips more firmly against his, taking him all the way down, before increasing her speed.

“Fuck,” he pants against her ear, lips searching for hers as his fingers dig deeper onto her waist.

It feels too good, him filling her up, hitting so deep that it’s almost too easy to get lost in it. She grabs at his hair, tastes the sweat on his skin, traces the inked lines on his chest and arm while moaning his name.

“Just tonight?” the reminder comes out as a question, one that he answers against her lips, eyes locked on hers.

“Just tonight.”

Her chest tightens with his words but she doesn’t have time to delve into it, not when Tommy starts to thrust up into her and all she can feel is him, moving inside of her, lips on her skin as he groans her name.

She feels his cock throbbing and his release follows right after. He doesn’t relent though, sneaking a hand in between them to massage her clit while he moves her up and down his still hard cock. It doesn’t take long for her orgasm to hit her with full force, she is too far gone, becoming putty in his hands.

As the coil inside her belly snaps, (Y/N) gasps his name, searching for his lips in desperation. The pleasure is overwhelming, she doesn’t want it to end, doesn’t want to face him tomorrow morning and pretend that this meant nothing to her. A single tear escapes her eye, she feels his fingers brushing it off and opens her eyes to see the little frown on his face.

Kissing him again, she relinquishes the feeling of him still inside of her, trying to burn it into her memory, because she doesn’t know if he will still be there in the morning.

Taglist: @stressedandbandobessed7771 @captivatedbycillianmurphy @internalmess3 @giowritess @theshelbyclan @peakyxtommy

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tloujm · 3 years

Text

Part XXVI: Giving Grief

Author’s Notes: This is the first chapter I’ve posted in months (literally since April). I don’t know if this is a full comeback. I have a few chapters in the drafts that need to be edited and formatted for posting but after that, I still plan on continuing the series bc my plan was always have a long fic. With no new content after part II of the game was released, my interest in the fandom waned but was always there. Now with HBO creating a show based off the game, as well as me being apart of the Pedro Pascal fandom, I think I will soon become more consistent in posting as new content gets released. I will say that at least half of what appeals to me for Joel is Troy Baker’s voice and while I love Pedro’s voice too, I know it won’t be the same. I still think Pedro will do the voice justice bc he can do a damn fine country accent as seen in the movie Prospect on Netflix. If you’re a fan of his and have Netflix, please go watch it!

Genre: Angst and Fluff

Summary: You and Joel reconcile and bond over Ellie and Sarah.

Ship: Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Joel waited for you to come home. He paced back and forth in the kitchen switching from holding the card and setting it down on the counter. He was eager to talk to you about this new revelation partly because he was nervous to have the other conversation with you. After a while of calming his nerves down, you still hadn’t come home. The sun had set an hour ago and Joel was ready to throw on his boots and go looking for you.

Just as he laced them up, the front door opened. You walked in and immediately stopped because his body blocked you from walking in the house further.

“Going somewhere?” You asked as you slid past him. He was a grown man and could do what he wanted, but the thought of him leaving to go do other things before the issue between you was resolved upset you.

He reached back down to unlace his boots. “Not anymore. I was ‘bout to head out and find you.”

“Why?” You asked dryly.

“I’d been waiting on you to come home for a couple of hours. We gotta talk.”

“You’re right, we do. I was helping Wendy walk the kids home from the daycare; that’s what held me up. I’m here now, though.” You leaned against the back of the couch and crossed your arms. The stance you took reminded you of what Joel would do.

He walked into the kitchen and came back. “Kiddo made this for us.”

You took it in your hands. “When did she have time to make this?” He shrugged. Your fingers brushed across the drawing of the hat before finally opening it. “Oh my God.” She looked at you for a split second before looking back down at her signature. “Her name has been ‘Ellie’ the whole time.”

“I know.” He commented.

“She never said anything. All of us have asked her.”

“Technically, she still hasn’t spoken her name, but I guess she wasn’t ready for that.”

“She wasn’t ready to let anybody in.” You said. He nodded in agreement.

“Until now.” He walked up to you and pointed to her name on the card. “She’s doing so good, this Ellie. I can only try to imagine the horrors that she’s seen out in the world before she came to Jackson, but whatever happened out there, it led her to us. I’m...It’s just nice to see her opening up to this place.”

You understood what he was trying to say. “Yeah, I’m proud of her too.” You walked past him and into the kitchen to hang the card on the refrigerator. Joel followed. This time, his arms were crossed.

“(Y/N), I meant it when I said I was sorry back there. I shouldn’t have said what I did.”

“If you didn’t mean it, you wouldn’t have said it.” You rebutted.

“I was upset with you because I expected you to react the same as me when Ellie climbed up that T-Rex, but I don’t want a carbon copy of myself. I love you and want to have a family with you because you are wise beyond your years, confident even if you don’t always think so, responsible even for things that aren’t your responsibility and most importantly, you’re level headedness. Where I have a tendency to lose my cool in certain situations, you are guided by this calm...patient sense of will that I envy.” He took a deep breath and slowly exhaled, giving you the opportunity to say something. Seeing that you were still soaking in his words, he continued. “You’ll be a great mother. I saw it in the gentle way you juggled all those kids at the daycare. I saw it in the way you took care of Ellie the first day she came here. You’ll see though, if it’s meant for us to have a baby, how difficult it is to stop worrying. It didn’t stop when Sarah....even when I tried to push those feelings away. It doesn’t stop. I know she’s not her, but it’s hard for me to just stand by and watch her do something that could hurt her.”

“I wasn’t standing by, or at least that wasn’t my intention. I wanted to give her space. She’s so delicate, or maybe that’s my problem. I shouldn’t treat her like she’s some glass figurine. I just wanted her to grow comfortable with us by trusting her. Believe me, it wasn’t easy for me to do when there was nothing personally for me to go off of, but then I thought, she’s lived out there for God knows how long by herself. She’s not only seen things but has been able to survive things. It’s hard to see how clever someone is when they won’t let you in, but I knew she had to be to have made it this far. I get it though. I’ve never been a parent. I can only sympathize with your worries. I can not empathize with you until I’ve been where you have. I’m sorry too. I could have found a way to give her space without allowing her to be in such a dangerous spot. You must be disappointed in me.”

He moved up to you and placed his hands on your shoulder. “I’m not. Look at me. I’m not disappointed in you. She was both of our responsibilities earlier.” He brought you into a tight hug. “You’re right, she is smart. She felt comfortable enough to show a side of herself that no one else has seen. You know why? ‘Cause she felt safe around us. Despite the grief she put me through, it was nice to see her so happy.”

“I know it was, wasn’t it? I can’t believe she jumped though! I didn’t think she’d go that far.”

“At the end of the day, kids will be kids. It’s not an excuse to slack off on raising ‘em, but there's just a certain wild and carefree nature that every kid has. It’s instilled in their DNA or somethin’ and then it fades away as they get older, about the time their back starts to ache.” Joel chuckled as he explained. He kissed the top of your head before pulling away to get a good look at you. He made a face as if to ask if you were ok. You nodded. He took your hand and pulled you into the living room. You sat down next to him. “She reminds me of Sarah sometimes. Ellie’s about the same age as her. She ran me through the ringer, raising that one.” He chuckled at the memories. “I wouldn’t trade it in for the world, being her dad, but you shoulda seen the amount of grief she put me through. Especially being a single parent.” He wiped his hand across his face, letting it linger along the length of his neck. “One time, she snuck off to some skate park when I told her no. She was in this skateboarding phase. I bought her a customized skateboard for her birthday and she would practice using it up and down the driveway. She had barely learned that little flippy trick when she asked me to take her to the skate park. I told her no because it looked like it was for experienced skaters. I wanted her to practice more first. To say the least, she was mad at me. She told me she was staying after school for the science club, but she really went to the skate park with some friends. By the time I figured out where she was, I found her lying in the grass, holding her arm in pain. Turned out she had a hairline fracture in her...radius?” He pointed to the bone on his arm. You nodded that it was in fact called radius. “I grounded her for lying to me, but sometimes I wonder if I should have taken her to the park. I mean I’m no expert on skateboarding, but at least I could have been there to supervise; make sure she wasn’t on one of those tough looking ramps.”

“Did you ever take her skateboarding after she healed up?”

“After the cast came off, she switched interests to soccer. I installed a shelf on one of her walls to hang the skateboard on. Better that than being stuffed under her bed. Soccer was her life though. She made new friends from the team, won titles, learned tricks with the ball. Me and Tommy were regulars at her games. I was...am proud of her.”

You smiled as you envisioned his memories. “Did she give you grief with that as well?”

He nodded in an exaggerated way. “Oh yeah, but I’m sure I used to give her grief too.” You lifted your eyebrows with desire for him to elaborate. “I may or may not have argued with the coach and ref on a few occasions regarding plays.”

“You never dated any of the soccer moms?” You teased.

He scoffed. “Most of them were married and the ones who weren’t, I sent Tommy’s way instead. He wasn’t mad at it.” The two of you chuckled. “I did flirt with a few, married or not, so I could get my hands on some of their homemade baked goods.”

“I was under the assumption that soccer moms made food for everyone.”

“They did, but I still wanted a few more cupcakes for the ride home.” He admitted as you laughed. “Listen, I had a busy life. I didn’t have much time to hone my baking skills, so it was nice to be able to have homemade cakes and cookies for a change.

“Well, if you wanted cookies, that’s all you had to say! I can show you how to bake right now.”

“It’s late.” He reasoned.

“It’s never too late to feed your sweet tooth.” You rebutted as you pulled him back into the kitchen.

#TLOU #TLOU2 #TLOUII #the last of us #the last of us joel #the last of us fanfic #The Last of Us 2 #the last of us fanfiction #tlou ellie #tlou joel #tlou fanfiction #tlou oc #naughty dog #Joel Miller #joel x reader #joel miller fanfic #Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

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jj-5656 · 4 years

Text

We’ll Be Alright

With; Newt (TMR)

A/N: Beware, it’s a sad. Anyways, it’s more Thomas and reader than anything else, both trying to overcome their grief. I also recommend sad music lmao. ALSO I do condone Teresa slander and yes I have read the books. I acknowledge the character development BUT AT WHAT COST?

You rub your fingers across the zipper of the jacket over your shoulders, glaring at the boy in front of you. Blood boiling as he carves her name onto the rock that potrudes from the sand. Each scratch of the knife against the stone, each letter makes your stomach churn in rage. Why the shuck would Thomas even consider putting it there, not after all she’d done. Your heart beats rapidly against your chest, pumping the hot blood throughout your nbody as your mind is flooded with the hate-

“Y/n, just breathe alright? You need to calm down.” Minho’s deep voice instructs softly beside you. Despite his soothing tone, the burning fire in front of the group of you does nothing to relax you.

This isn’t like you, you’ve never been one to get this angry. But it’s different now, you’re different. A lot of times there are moment when everything seems fine, but not when Thomas is carving her shucking name right where-

“Y/n, you’re practically seething just-” Minho’s cut off when you scramble up from your seat between him and Frypan, not bothering to listen to their protests as you March towards Thomas. Tunnel vision making the wide distance between you collapse in only seconds. He’s only halfway through carving out the ‘R’ when you shove him out of the way. No doubt catching him off guard as he looks at you with eyes wide in bewilderment.

“Wh-what the hell-”

“How dare you put her shucking name next to his! You have no right!” You shout instantly, voice raw with anger and hurt as the taller boy straightens himself out.

“Y/n, what are you-”

“You don’t even see how messed up it is, do you? She’s the reason Minho still can’t sleep at night, the reason he does all he can to escape sleep to avoid the awful night terrors. She’s the reason the boy I loved is dead! It’s her shucking fault. And what, because she assisted us the tiniest bit before shit hit the fan she deserves to be on that rock? That’s a load of klunk, Thomas.”

“I lost him too y/n!”

“Then how could you possibly love her Thomas? After all she did to us!” You shove him again, but the boy doesn’t move back this time. He steps to you, eyes filled with anger and confusion at your outburst. His next words tear you apart, and suddenly all the pent up anger you’ve been pushing down explodes as he speaks.

“WCKD took her too! The flare took all she had, she was only trying to make things right!” Without thinking, your fist crashes against the brunette’s cheek with a terrible thump. Pain immediately sears throughout your knuckles and up your arm, but it’s nothing compared to the never-ending ache of your heart.

“You slinthead! How dare you try and justify what she did to us! Does what she went through make her actions right? Does her pain excuse torturing thousands of kids for the sake of what WCKD felt was necessary? It doesn’t Thomas, and no amount of her regret or guilt can take it back. Or bring him back, bring him home!” Your voice cracks as you cradle your fist, warm tears streaming down your cheeks as Gally, Frypan, and Minho come rushing over.

“Take a walk y/n.” Gally yells once the others help Thomas to his feet. He holds his chin, dazed and shocked at your actions.

“Th-Thomas I didn’t-” You struggle to find the words as you slowly back away, stunned and terrified by your own force as you try to come to terms with what you’ve just done.

“I said take a walk!” The muscular blonde repeats, standing in front of you and nudging you toward the edge of the beach. You don’t protest this time, stumbling hurriedly toward the water in a fit of emotions.

****************

When you’ve finally calmed down, your blurred vision can just make out the large rock that stands a few yards from the crashing waves. You don’t hesitate to climb on top of it, settling down against the cold stone and wrapping the corduroy jacket around you even tighter. It still smells like him, and sometimes when you close your eyes you can still feel him.

“Hey, I know you’re scared. But we won’t hurt you, I promise you’re alright greenie.”

“Greenie?”

“That’s what we call all the newbies, I’m Newt by the way. What do you say you get out of this thing, lemme show you around? You’ll be alright greenie, I promise.” Without thinking, you take the stranger’s outstretched hand. You can’t remember who you are, where you’re from, or how you ended up here. Still, his kind eyes and warm smile draw you to him. You don’t know him, but you will.

“Newt, I know we have to save Minho but there’s still time for-”

“Darling, please. We talked about this.”

“No, you talked about it! You can’t make this decision on your own!”

“I know you’re scared, I’m scared too.”

“You don’t get it Newt, I won’t-I can’t do this without you.” He offers a soft smile when he wipes a tear from your cheek, but you can tell it’s not genuine. You grip onto his jacket, pleading with your eyes for him to reconsider. But the way he cups the sides of your face with blood-shot eyes makes the small bit of hope in your hear fizzle away. He’s already decided, he’s gonna leave you.

“Please, please don’t leave me Newt. Mihno’s gonna be here soon okay? He’s gonna bring the serum and this will all go away just...Please don’t go baby, please don’t leave me here. Thomas, Thomas he won’t stop bleeding! Go find Minho! Thomas, get up! We have to do something!” You’re screaming at the boy who only stares blankly ahead, tears streaming down his face as he meets your eyes. Your body wracks with sobs as he only shakes his head, getting up and walking towards the building ahed of you. You don’t attempt to get his attention anymore, grabbing the collar of Newts jacket and shaking him. “Wake up Newt, please wake up...” You throw your arms around him as you sob, hiding your face in his neck when Minho and the others reach you. It’s too hard to look at them, knowing their expressions will only make this moment more real. Is it real? This couldn’t be anything more than a nightmare. You can only mumble out protests when you feel Minho pulling you to your feet, wrapping his arms around your waist when you desperately try to get back to the cold body laying on the floor. “We can’t leave him here! We can’t just leave him!” Minho’s own cries are drowned out through white noise as he drags you back to the jet, Newts fluffy-collard jacket crumpled in your arms as you succumb exhaustion and defeat. He’s gone

Waves crash against the large rock in a rythmic dance. Bringing your knees up to your chest to fight the cold, you rub the stained sleeve of the brown jacket wrapped around you. The deep blue stain reminding you of that horrid night, the lifeless, black eyes that stared up at the sky as you were whisked away from your only love.

“Mind if I sit?” The solemn voice interrupts before you can spiral once more. You nod, not turning around to watch Thomas climb onto the Boulder and shuffle to sit beside you. The brunette looking out at the night sky with an thoughtful expression.

“I think about that night a lot, what we could have done differently. And I think somewhere out there, there’s a different ending for all of us. Where he’s here, and we don’t have to pretend there’s not someone missing at the bonfires or dinner table...I didn’t want to love her y/n, not after what she did to us. But you and I know it’s not something we can control. No matter what I do, I love her.” His voice cracks as he speaks, but he avoids your eyes when you look to him.

“What I said Thomas, what I did...That wasn’t fair. I should have never hit you. It’s just, I’m so angry Tommy. I’m so mad all the time and it’s so scary. Sometimes, I feel like I lost myself that night and I’ll never get her back. It’s like, I don’t know...Like whoever I once was, was left laying next to his body. I can’t imagine how scared he must have been, how alone he must have felt. To feel himself and all his memories slipping away all over again. He never deserved it, he didn’t deserve any of it. A lot of times I wish it was me-”

“D-don’t say that.”

“I do though, I wish it was me. He was too good for this world. He deserved a happy ending Thomas, damnit we all did. I feel like I can’t breathe when he’s not with me, I don’t even recognize myself anymore. I mean, I punched you for gods sake! Same girl who wouldn’t even slice a pig her first day at the glade...” He lets out a small laugh, nostalgic smile pulling at his lips when he looks over at you.

“I remember Newt telling me about that, said he’d never seen a greenie tell Gally to go shuck himself until you.” You let out a pathetic chuckle, shaking your head and rubbing another oncoming wave of tears at his words.

“I miss him so much Tommy, it hurts all the time...I guess I’m still trying to forgive the world, forgive myself. I just wish I could talk to him one more time, hear his voice. I’m still trying to grasp he’s never coming back to me. I don’t know what to do with all these feelings sometimes, all this pain.”

“You could punch me again. You have a mean right hook by the way.” You meet his gaze with forced smile, tackling the taller boy into an embrace when you notice the fresh tears on his cheeks. He falters at the contact, but immediately wraps his arms around you with a sigh.

“I’m sorry Tommy. He loved you so much, I know he’d hate to see us fight. You didn’t deserve what I did, I know that. I should never taken my anger out on you.”

“It’s alright, I know you didn’t mean it. And I also know he would never have wanted you to blame yourself. He wanted you to be able to move on, to look back on all of it and know it was all meant to be. The shank also told me to take care of you, I guess I’m doing a pretty shuck job at that huh?” Your laugh is genuine this time, a little giggle that reassures Thomas he’ll be able to make sure of that promise some day in the future. He’d make sure Newt would have someone to look after you, always.

“He told me the same thing. I think you and Minho are doing all the work though.”

“Not a chance, I think I needed a good punch honestly. Who taught you how to hit like that?” You swat at his chest, pulling away from the hug to lean against his side.

“Gally, I think. Didn’t you get flashbacks from when he kicked your ass at the glade?”

“Hilarious, I could totally beat him in a fight now.”

“Right.”

“We should head back, the others might worry you were jacked enough to finish what you started.”

“Give me a couple minutes? I’ll meet you there.” You mutter softly, offering the boy a soft smile when he kisses the crown of your head and heads towards the firelight in the distance.

You let out a deep sigh when you look back out at the waves, stuffing your hands in the pockets of the jacket to warm them. Movements faltering when you feel something like twine wrap around your fingers. Pulling out the small item, your heart swells when you finally see what’s blocked your hand. It’s a strand of braided leather, a bracelet you recognize as the one Newt wore back in the glade. The frayed ends of the tattered leather warm your heart, surveying his tedious handywork with moisture filled eyes. Suddenly, a wave of assurance overcomes you. As if the boys’ finnally been able to communicate it’ll all be okay. You wrap the fabric around your fingers, pressing it against your lips before heading toward the campfire in the distance. Everything’s gonna be okay.

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morganaspendragonss · 3 years

Text

´till death do us part

@911lonestarangstweek day 4 - m is for...mcd, mourning

if you saw my posts about the 'crying fic'... this is it

thanks to liz and @halsteadmarchs for the beta!

ao3 | 5.5k | major character death, hurt/comfort, mourning, non-linear narrative, car accidents, hopeful ending

This is a mistake.

It’s been a long time since Carlos last did this, but not long enough at the same time. His friends would disagree with him—they tell him he needs to get back in the game, and it’s well-meaning, but they don’t get it. They don’t know how hard these past few years have been for him.

They don’t know what it’s like to lose the person you thought you were going to spend the rest of your life with; they don’t know what it’s like to go from being engaged one day to alone the next. In fact, there’s only one person Carlos knows who even has a hope of understanding, and he really doesn’t appreciate the irony that it’s the one person he’s guaranteed to never see again.

It’s not that he meant to turn himself into a recluse after it happened; he knows that’s not what he would want for him.

Thing is, Carlos isn't sure that he gets to have an opinion anymore, since he was the one who left. Carlos doesn’t blame him for what happened—that would be stupid—but sometimes, sometimes, he just gets so damn angry at him.

(he always feels guilty for it after, which is equally as stupid as the anger. there’s no one left for him to direct it at, after all)

Carlos sighs, shaking his head as he steps into the bar. He doesn’t want to be here—he wouldn’t be here, but Michelle had threatened to make a special trip back to Austin specifically to kick his ass if he didn’t at least give this a try.

This, being the blind date his friends had insisted he go on. Technically, he could leave and still not be lying when he tells Michelle he went—he is in the bar, after all—but Carlos has never liked the idea of standing someone up, no matter the circumstances.

So here he is. Alone at a bar, nursing a lukewarm beer, and wishing he were anywhere else.

Someone slides into the seat next to him, and Carlos barely gets a second to prepare himself before he’s met with a winning smile and sparkling green eyes.

God, why did they have to be green?

“Hey,” the guy says, still smiling. “Carlos, right? Nice to meet you. I’m Domenic.”

Carlos is still trying to catch his breath, his head thumping back against the wall of the bathroom stall they’ve ended up in, when lips brush his ear, hot breath sending electricity down his spine.

“I’m TK, by the way.” The whisper is rough, a smirk laced into it, like TK knows exactly what he’s done to him.

And Carlos is so far from fully-functioning that the only response he can come up with is a breathy, “I know.”

TK pulls back, his brows furrowing though there’s a wry quirk to his lips. “Didn’t take you for a Star Wars fan, but okay.”

Now it’s Carlos’s turn to frown as his addled brain struggles to put together TK’s thought process there. “What?”

“Never mind.”

Well. This took a turn. Carlos has no idea what’s going on, but there is something in the back of his mind that tells him he must have sounded like a creep, telling this guy he’s pretty much only just met that he already knows his name. He gestures lamely towards TK in explanation. “Your turn-out coat at the scene the other night. I thought it probably stood for something but then one of your team—Marwani, I think?—called you. So.”

Carlos shrugs, embarrassment quickly catching up with him, which seems absurd given what they just did. Then again, it’s been a long time since he’s done anything like this; he’s more of a wine-and-dine kind of guy than the type to make out with a near stranger in a less-than-sanitary bathroom.

But there’s something about TK Strand that has Carlos wanting to know everything about him.

And if everything starts here, well. He’s more than happy to take it.

Thankfully, TK seems to pick up on the sudden awkwardness in the stall. He takes a couple of steps back until he’s leaning against the opposite wall, which doesn’t really put that much space between them, but Carlos appreciates it all the same.

“So, do I get a name, or…?”

The question has Carlos flushing all over again, turning a bright red when he sees TK’s smile. He clears his throat and smiles, trying not to wince. “Carlos.”

“Carlos,” TK repeats, dragging the syllables out like he’s testing the sound of them on his tongue. Carlos shivers a little, his breath catching in his throat at the small smile that spreads across TK’s face.

Then a phone is being thrust in his hand, unlocked and opened on the Add contact page. “Put your number in,” TK says. “In case you ever, you know. Feel like doing this again.”

A thrill runs down Carlos’s spine at the thought that TK wants to do this again. Maybe he’s not the only one who feels this connection. Maybe…

Well. It’s too soon for that. But as he types in his number, Carlos can’t help but wonder where, exactly, this road might lead.

His house is quiet when he gets home. It’s a familiar kind of quiet, one that’s lain over the place like a blanket ever since that day three years ago. Carlos has gotten used to it over time, and he thinks that maybe it’s eased a little—but only a little.

Things haven’t changed much over the years. TK’s stuff still decorates the house, not as much as it used to, but Carlos hadn’t been able to bring himself to remove the stuffed bear that sits on the chair by their bed, or the plastic duck TK had insisted they have in the bathroom for ‘the vibes’, or the hand-sewn heart a little girl whose parents TK had saved had gifted him, which hangs proudly in their front window.

And the pictures; Carlos refuses to take the pictures down. The one sitting on his nightstand had been turned over for a long time after the accident, but now he can’t imagine going to bed each night without seeing it. It’s from their engagement party, a candid captured by Evie, a professional photographer in the making according to Tommy.

Carlos is inclined to agree—the photo, showing him and TK looking at each other, wide smiles on both their faces, is his favourite thing in the world.

His phone rings, making him jump. Carlos sighs heavily when he sees Michelle’s name flash up on FaceTime and he briefly considers declining, but there’s no way she’d be deterred so easily.

He takes a second to get himself together, then answers, plastering a smile on his face. “Hey chica.”

Michelle doesn’t waste a second in getting to the point. “So,” she says, leaning forward and grinning, “how’d it go?”

“It went.”

Her smile falters and she frowns, scrutinising him. “Did you even go?”

“Yes.” Carlos purses his lips, not wanting to get into it anymore, but Michelle is insistent and he’s too tired to make excuses right now. “His name is Domenic, he’s nice, I’m not seeing him again.”

“Why?”

“You know why.”

“Carlos.” Michelle sighs, her voice going quiet. “It’s been three years.”

“That’s not a long time.”

“I know.”

“I still dream about him, ‘Chelle,” Carlos cuts in, sudden tears overwhelming him. “I still—I still think about what I could have done differently to save him, I still imagine the future we could have had. I don’t know if I’ll ever stop. I don’t know if I can stop.”

“When Iris disappeared—”

“It’s not the same,” he snaps, harsher than he means to. “You always had that hope, right? Everyone was telling you Iris was dead, but you always believed that she would come back. And she did, and I am so happy about that, I am, but guess what, Michelle? TK is dead. He’s dead. I’m never gonna see him again—in fact, the last time I did see him, it was when his body was lying in a morgue, and he was so cold and so still and so—so not TK that I could barely believe it was him.

“But it was, because he’s dead. It’s not the same.”

He’s properly crying by the time he finishes his speech, and Michelle has tears in her eyes too. Carlos feels a little guilty now, but he can’t bring himself to be fully sorry for what he said. Still, Michelle looks crushed, and Carlos can’t lose his best friend.

One more loss would kill him, he thinks.

“Michelle, listen—”

“It’s fine, Carlos,” she interrupts, swiping a hand under her eyes. “You… You’re right. It’s not the same. I’ll just. I’ll leave you alone now. I’m sorry the date didn’t work out.”

Then she’s gone, and Carlos is alone again, the weight of it settling uncomfortably on his shoulders.

Their first real date is painfully awkward, reminiscent of covert high school meet-ups with boys in the nearby diners, or like that one time Carlos tried using a dating app. That had been an experience he’d wanted to forget, but now he finds himself recalling it in horrific detail as he and TK sit on opposite sides of a table, a plate of limp fries slowly cooling between them.

“So—”

“I was thinking—”

They both speak at the same time, and an embarrassed flush rises on Carlos’s cheeks. He swallows past the lump in his throat and gestures to TK, barely able to look him in the eyes. “You should go first.”

TK laughs and shakes his head. “I was about to tell you the same thing. Since when have things been this awkward between us? We fucked on the floor of your front room about a week after meeting, surely we should be well past this stage by now.”

He has a point.

Carlos laughs too and finally works up the courage to meet TK’s gaze. “I mean, it’s not like we were doing much talking back then.”

“Things are a lot simpler without clothes,” TK agrees, a suggestive lilt to his tone and, somehow, it’s all that’s needed to break the tense silence they’d previously been suffering in. Carlos grabs a fry, grimacing at the grease that instantly coats his fingers, and points it at TK.

“Cool it, Strand,” he warns. “You aren’t going to find it that easy to seduce me anymore.”

TK grins, his eyes sparkling. “Oh, we’ll see about that, Officer.”

Carlos is surprised when he wakes up the next morning to a text from Domenic.

Hey, it reads. Sorry about last night. I know that you’re not into me or whatever and that’s cool, but I like you. Do you think we could maybe still be friends?

He sighs and drops his phone onto his bare chest, arm flopping onto the other side of the bed. It’s funny, he thinks idly; before TK, he’d tended to sleep closer to the middle and it had never bothered him. Now, it feels weird to break from the way things used to be—in Carlos’s head, the left side is still TK’s, and the right his.

He knows what Domenic’s text implies. ‘Let’s be friends and then we can see how it goes’. Carlos could tell him now that it’s not going anywhere and save them both the trouble, but he kind of...wants a friend.

It sounds pathetic, even to his own ears, but all his friends are either fellow cops, the 126, or Michelle, who’s in another state. And Domenic was nice. So, really, what’s the harm?

Twenty minutes later, they have plans to meet at a coffee shop.

Ten minutes after that, Carlos arrives.

Carlos startles as TK’s arms suddenly slip around his waist, his chin pressing into Carlos’s shoulder. He quickly relaxes into the hold, covering TK’s hands with his own, but TK isn’t fooled.

“Where did you go?” he murmurs, breath tickling Carlos’s neck.

“Nowhere,” Carlos answers. “I was just...thinking.”

“About what?”

“Well…” He hesitates, biting his lip, then spins to face TK, letting their still-joined hands swing in the minute space between them. “This is crazy, right? Not, like, bad crazy—well, a little bit bad crazy; our last place did burn down—but all of this. Getting a house together. Three bedrooms. All of it. It’s crazy.”

TK grins, the little frown that had emerged at Carlos’s first words quickly melting away. “Completely,” he agrees. He kisses Carlos briefly, then steps away, breaking their hands apart to tread a slow circuit around their new front room. Carlos watches him fondly, somehow falling even more in love with him.

“You know,” TK says suddenly, his eyes roving around the empty space, “I’ve never actually done this before.”

“What do you mean?”

He waves his hands, gesturing at the flaking paint on the walls and the lack of furniture. “Decorated a house. I had an apartment in New York but that came fully-furnished and I didn’t exactly have a ton of stuff to add. And then when I moved here with my dad, I didn’t care too much about how the house looked, and you know how my dad is about interior design. It’s a little...scary, thinking about doing it now, with you.”

Carlos’s eyes widen, his heart clenching at the words. “Do you… Do you not want to do this?” he asks, half-dreading the answer. He’d thought they were both on the same page here, but what if… What if…

“What?” TK frowns, crossing the room in three quick strides to meet Carlos. “Babe, no, of course I want to. It’s a good kind of scary, I promise.”

“You sure?” Carlos scans his boyfriend’s face, searching for any hint of doubt or anxiety. But there is none, and TK just smiles, kissing Carlos’s cheek.

“A thousand percent,” he says. “It’ll be fun.”

(‘Fun’ isn’t the word Carlos would give to what came next. ‘Frustrating’, possibly. Or ‘exhausting’. Maybe even ‘interminable’.)

(But, at the end of it all, they have a home. Their home. And Carlos can see their future taking shape before his very eyes.)

Domenic grins when he sees Carlos approaching him, and a part of Carlos regrets even agreeing to come. But he can hardly turn around now, so he forces a smile and slides into the chair next to him, extending a hand to shake. Domenic sends him a strange look at that, but obliges anyway, shaking Carlos’s hand with a surprising firmness.

“Hey,” he says, still smiling.

“Hey.” Carlos sighs, taking in Domenic’s bright eyes and warm, hopeful face, and decides, fuck it. “Look, before you say anything, I just want you to know that I’m not looking for anything right now. My friends set me up on that date with you—and it’s not that I don’t think you’re a good guy, I honestly do, but—”

“Carlos.” Domenic appears to be fighting off laughter, though he’s not entirely successful in it, a brief chuckle slipping past his lips. “You don’t need to explain yourself to me. I know it sounds hard to believe, but I really am okay with being friends. Not that I wouldn’t mind seeing where it goes, but…”

He trails off, seeing what must be obvious doubt on Carlos’s face. “Look, I’m kind of new in town, alright? I don’t really know many people around here, and I’m just...fuck, man. I’m lonely. So if you wanna be friends, then that’s incredible and more than enough for me. I swear.”

And Domenic is looking at him so earnestly that Carlos really has no choice but to believe him. He feels himself flushing a bright red, embarrassed at how self-centred and narcissistic he must have seemed, and a stammered apology is halfway out of his mouth when Domenic reaches over and lays a firm hand on his arm.

“It’s no big deal,” he says, patting once before drawing back. “I do want to ask, though, if you don’t mind? Why did you come on the date if you didn’t want to? Not many guys would.”

Carlos huffs a laugh. “My friends think I’m turning into a hermit. It’s an assessment that I...wouldn’t disagree with. Let’s just say you’re not the only one looking for a friend.”

Domenic’s eyebrows quirk up in interest. “Oh? Anything to do with your unwillingness to date? I mean, a guy like you—it’s hard to imagine that you don’t have men practically throwing themselves at you. Maybe even literally. How come you’re still single? Is there...someone else?”

Carlos’s whole body tenses at the question, his gaze dropping to his hands and his heart in his shoes. Tension lies thick in the air, and he feels the sudden urge to flee, but he’s rooted to his chair, stuck under Domenic’s scrutiny.

“Shit,” Domenic says, voice hushed. “Carlos, I—I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to… Fuck, forget I said anythin—”

“I was engaged.”

Carlos hadn’t meant to say it. He doesn’t know why he did. It’s just… He hasn’t really talked about TK properly with anyone in the three years since; his friends were all TK’s friends too, and they all knew him—knew them.

This is the first time he’s actually spending time with someone who didn’t know, and it’s not freeing exactly, but it’s the first time he feels free to speak about TK the way he wants to, without anyone else’s memories looming over it.

“I’m not anymore, obviously,” he laughs wryly, finally managing to look back up at Domenic, finding shock on his face. “It was… It ended.”

Domenic’s mouth opens and closes several times before he’s able to pull himself together enough to speak. “Who called it off?” he asks—which was not what Carlos was expecting. “Because if it was him, man. He really missed out there.”

Carlos hesitates a moment, then answers, “It was him. But it wasn’t on purpose.” He breathes out shakily, swallowing hard. “He died a month before the wedding.”

Carlos smirks as he hears a groan at his back, glancing over his shoulder to find TK pretending to bang his head on the table. “Having fun, babe?”

Another groan. “Let’s just elope. Let’s get married in some random courthouse by some random Texas official. That way we wouldn’t have to figure out stuff like a seating plan or—or what kind of cake knife to use. I mean, babe.” TK sends a pleading look in Carlos’s direction, and Carlos can’t help but laugh, cruel though it feels when TK’s wounded expression just gets worse.

“I’m pretty sure my mother and your dad would kill us if we did that,” he points out, causing TK’s mouth to twist.

“I hate it when you’re right.”

“No, you don’t.” Grinning, Carlos turns back to his chopping, except, when he reaches out for the next ingredient, he only meets empty space. “Mierda. TK, babe, can you run to the store? I forgot the chilis.”

“Can’t you just leave them out?”

There’s a hopeful note to TK’s tone, but Carlos stands firm—his cooking is the one thing he’s able to resist TK for. “You’d think you’d be used to spices by now,” he comments. “And the answer is no; go on. You’ll barely even taste them.”

TK mutters his disagreement, but he gets up and leaves anyway. Carlos watches him go, shaking his head fondly before returning to dinner. Technically, he could leave the chilis out, but he’s been brought up to consider even the mere suggestion as sacrilege, and he’s not planning on letting TK persuade him otherwise any time soon.

Twenty minutes later, he’ll regret that decision more than anything else in the world.

“Carlos, I’m so sorry. You don’t have to—”

“I want to. As long as you’re okay with it; I don’t want to just unload all over you.”

“It’s okay, I promise. What are friends for?”

Carlos frowns, checking the clock. TK should have been back by now; the store is only a five minute drive from their place, and surely he would have texted if he was going to be delayed. He’s about to call him himself when his phone starts ringing, TK’s name flashing up on the screen.

He sighs in relief, answering the call. “Did you get lost or something?”

Silence.

“TK?”

Nothing again, and Carlos’s panic starts to skyrocket. “TK!”

And, this time, he gets an answer.

“C-Carlos.”

Carlos’s heart drops into his stomach at the rasp of TK’s voice. He sounds like he can barely breathe—in fact, if Carlos strains to listen, he can hear stilted, ragged breaths coming through the phone’s speakers. TK is hurt, probably seriously, and, fuck, it was Carlos who sent him out in the first place, this is his fault, he—

“Carlos, please.”

He breaks out of his spiral and clutches his phone tight to his ear, racing around the house to get his shoes on and grab his keys. “TK, where are you? I’ll find you, I promise I will, and you’re gonna be just fine, okay?”

TK doesn’t speak for a few seconds, before, “No.”

Carlos screeches to a halt. “What?”

“I don’t—I can’t tell you where I am. I don’t know. And there’s—there’s no time. No— Someone found me, they called 9-1-1, but they won’t—there’s no time.”

“TK, don’t you dare give up, okay, don’t you dare talk like that. You just need to focus on my voice and stay awake for a little while longer and then they’ll get you to a hospital where they’ll fix you up. You’ll be good as new right in time for the wedding.”

“The wedding. Carlos, I—”

“And if this is your way of getting out of making all the decisions, then it’s a little bit over the top, you know? I mean, point proven and all that, but you could have just told me.” He’s getting hysterical now, he can feel it, standing in the middle of his front room trying to keep his fiancé alive and talking when he’s god-knows-where in god-knows-what condition.

But, as always, TK is there to centre him again. “Carlos, stop, please.”

Carlos doesn’t know if it’s the way TK’s voice is getting quieter and quieter, his energy obviously flagging, or if it’s his pleading tone, but he’s suddenly struck completely still. He can’t move a muscle, every sense tuned into whatever is happening on the other end of the phone.

“I don’t—I don’t want to spend the time we have left lying to each other,” TK eventually says, his words riding on broken breaths now. “I don’t want to leave you, but I think… No, I know that I have to now. I’m s-so sorry. I wish… I wish we…” A gasp, and a horrific cough that sounds like it’s tearing TK apart. “I love you.”

Carlos doesn’t get a chance to reply before there’s a loud thud, and it doesn’t take him long to figure out what caused it.

TK dropped the phone.

TK passed out.

It’s salt in the wound when, seconds later, Carlos hears the wail of sirens approaching the scene.

There are tears dripping down his face as he tells Domenic of the sheer, gut-wrenching panic and fear of those next few minutes.

How he’d been unable to put the phone down, instead listening as the screech of machinery and the raised voices of firefighters and paramedics drifted through the speakers.

How the noises had dimmed when they extracted TK, and how Carlos had strained to listen as the paramedics began to work on him.

And how, when he’d heard those final words, his world had come crashing down.

“I’m calling it. McRae, radio it in to the ME’s office.”

This isn’t happening.

Carlos cannot be sitting in his parents’ backyard, at his fiancé’s wake, in the same place and wearing the same suit that he was supposed to be getting married in a month from now.

He—

Fuck.

Carlos presses the heels of his hands into his eyes and curls in on himself, barely suppressing a moan of agony at the pain in his chest. He’s distantly aware of everyone’s gazes on him, but he can’t stop this tidal wave of emotion anymore than he can turn back time and change the fact that TK is dead and that Carlos failed him.

TK died all alone, and Carlos didn’t get the chance to say goodbye or tell him that he loved him. He couldn’t even bring himself to speak at the funeral—the one thing, the last thing he could do for the love of his life.

Instead, when it was his turn to speak, he’d been frozen in his chair, eyes locked on the coffin—(and, fuck, TK was in there, that was TK, fuckfuckfuck)—and Judd had had to take over.

Carlos hadn’t heard a word he'd said, though he’s sure it was beautiful, and everything that TK deserved.

Everything that Carlos couldn’t give him.

He failed him, he failed, he—

“No,” a hushed voice says, warm arms pulling him into a tight hug, and Carlos must have been talking aloud without realising because the voice keeps reassuring him. “You didn’t fail, sweetheart, you didn’t, I promise. You were there for him at the end and that’s all that matters; that he wasn’t alone when it happened. I know it hurts but it’s okay, it’s all going to be okay.”

Carlos tenses, wanting to scream at whoever’s holding him because how could anything possibly be okay? But when he pulls out of their grip, he sees that it’s Gwyn, her eyes red and cheeks tear-stained, and all Carlos can do is fall apart in his not-quite-mother-in-law’s arms.

She keeps whispering that it’s okay, and Carlos knows that it’s as much for her own benefit as for his.

“Hey sweetheart,” Carlos whispers, getting out of his car and leaning against the closed door. He always comes here when he wants to remember TK; it is where they said goodbye to him after all. And it’s the place where they had so many important moments—it’s where they became official, and where they finally spoke openly and completely with each other for the first time, and where they got engaged.

It’s their place, ridiculous as it might sound.

“Remember that night?” he asks, even now feeling a little self-conscious talking to the air. “I made you a picnic and we came out here to eat it and you somehow managed to get chocolate on your nose from the chocolate-covered strawberries.” Carlos chuckles, then sighs wistfully. “You were so beautiful. I had this whole plan to propose to you, but one look at your face and that damn bit of chocolate and I forgot the entire thing.

“I just blurted it out, right there and then. ‘Marry me, Tyler Kennedy’, and you said yes, and it was perfect.”

He blinks furiously, tears beginning to blur his vision. “I thought… But it was too perfect, I guess. Perfect things never last, and since I was never going to leave you, the universe forced you to leave me.

“I don’t know why I’m telling you all this. It’s nothing you don’t already know, and I’m not sure if I even believe that you can hear me. I never used to, back when we were together, but things change when suddenly the one who’s gone is someone you love. I’d give anything, Ty, anything to talk to you again, so I’m here.

“You know… Just in case.”

His hands tremble and he swallows reflexively against the pain and grief crawling up his throat. He reaches inside the car through the window and grabs the bouquet of flowers he brought with him off the passenger seat.

It’s the same one he always brings whenever he comes out here—red camellias, hydrangeas, blue salvias, and forget-me-nots—all flowers that have meaning to them and their relationship. Hydrangeas for understanding; it had been the first flower TK had given him, his way of saying thanks for sticking around even after their disastrous beginnings.

The camellia, Carlos had gifted TK one anniversary. It means ‘you’re a flame in my heart’, which TK always was, always, and Carlos had found it a little funny too, given TK’s background. TK had loved it, and had made sure to tell Carlos in as many ways as he could think of that he felt the same.

The salvias were something they both did, often and at random, sometimes with no particular reason. Just whenever they wanted each other to know they were thinking of them—though, that was something they knew anyway.

Carlos had added the forget-me-nots himself after… After it had happened. It’s a reassurance, both to him and to TK, that he’s not forgetting; that he never will.

That he can’t, even now, three years down the line.

On shaky legs, he walks over to the tree a little distance away, laying the bouquet between the roots almost reverently. Carlos stares down at them long after he’s straightened back up, leaning against the tree, and he allows the memories and the pain to overwhelm him for a moment.

“Can you believe it’s been three years?” he asks the empty air, shaking his head. “I swear, I still miss you like it was yesterday; it doesn’t seem real that I haven’t seen you or kissed you or heard your voice in three whole years.

“I’m going to see your dad later. He’s… He’s doing okay, all things considered. He misses you—we all do—but I think he tries to hide it, like he has to be the strong one for everyone else. Don’t worry though, Ty, we’re looking after him. Making sure he doesn’t, you know. Do anything stupid.

“Your mom helps out a lot too, her and Enzo and Isaac. God, TK you’d be so proud of Isaac now—he’s started school, making loads of friends, and he’s just… He’s such a good kid. I wish you could see him; he was so young when you— You’d be amazed at how big he’s getting. And, hey, we’re making sure that he knows who his big brother was, so...so don’t worry about that either.”

Carlos hesitates before continuing; it feels weird to talk about Domenic here. He doesn’t need to, he knows—technically, there’s nothing even going on between them, though Carlos couldn’t deny how good it had felt when Domenic had hugged him when they parted ways after coffee. But there’s been a weird lump of guilt sitting in his stomach since that first date at the bar, and Carlos figures that TK deserves to know about it.

Even if he’s three years dead and probably can’t hear any of this.

“I met someone, you know,” he says, trying to keep his tone light. “It’s not like that, we’re just friends, but I think… I think maybe it could be like that? Maybe? I don’t know, Ty. I thought I’d never be able to love anyone in that way ever again, but Domenic is so kind and sweet and he makes me wonder if there’s a chance.

“I’m terrified. It’s—It’s stupid and selfish, but I’m so scared of getting hurt again, of having to go through what I went through with you again. Not that I blame you for the accident, it’s just… I can’t do it again. I can’t.

“God, even considering this feels like I’m betraying you. I do hate you a little for that; you still own so much of my heart and I’m never getting it back, whereas all I have of you are your hoodies and your mugs and that goddamn stuffed bear. Why did you have to go and ruin me like that, huh? Why, TK?”

He’s almost shouting now, but the question fades unanswered into the air, and Carlos’s anger vanishes with it. “Fuck. I’m sorry. I didn’t… I don’t hate you. I love you so much, and I always will, but I think maybe it’s time for me to let some of that go. I can’t carry on like this for much longer; you understand that, right?”

And maybe he’s imagining it, or maybe it’s just a coincidence, but the breeze picks up a little then, gently ruffling Carlos’s curls, and it feels like… It feels like peace.

He closes his eyes, and for a moment, it’s like he can feel TK there, like he never left at all.

I know, it feels like, his voice ringing loud and clear in Carlos’s head. I love you.

“I love you, too,” Carlos whispers, opening his eyes. TK isn’t there, of course, but, somehow, he doesn’t feel so empty anymore.

Then, with one final glance at the flowers, Carlos turns and walks away, his heart feeling lighter than it has in three years.

#911lsangstweek #911 lone star #911 lone star fic #tarlos #tarlos fic #tk strand #carlos reyes #michelle blake #lone star #911ls #fanfiction #my fanfiction #writing #my writing #userbones #userjillian #tuserpaige #tuserjamie #reyeslonestartag

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twinklelilstarkey · 4 years

Text

Stopping You - Michael Gray [Part 9]

Words: 8.2k+

Summary: When finally able to leave the hospital, memories awake buried feelings in both Y/N and Michael.

Warnings: Female!Reader. Mentions of wounds and physical pain. Emotional Cheating. A very slight mention of smut. A character being touch-starved. Being horny [ :) ]. Self hate (discrediting their own sadness and feelings; hateful inner voice).

Prologue Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10

It has been 2 days ever since you woke up.

The doctors don’t seem to be planning on letting you go home this soon since the wound is supposedly still “too fresh” and because “you’re too at risk of ripping stiches”. Which to you, what they are actually trying to say is “you can’t stand still so we will force you to sit the fuck down until you’re good enough to go back home”.

It does sounds more accurate, doesn’t it?

You’re already able to sit up on your own even though it still hurts like a bitch. And you’ve been playing more and more chess with Michael now that Finn and Polly are back to work.

It, honestly, hasn’t been that bad.

It’s still a little tense between you two when stuck in silence but can anybody blame you after all that happened?

But tense or not, you still like his company, nonetheless.

You know, also, that Gina has been making some visits at the hospital. Not to see you of course, but to see him. They always talk to each other behind the doors of your room, in the hallway, whispering and shutting up whenever a nurse or doctor would walk by.

You would’ve been lying if you said that you weren’t curious. But still, it is not your place to make questions about personal matters. So, behind the glass of the doors you stay.

The door of your room swings open again, letting a wave of cold wind hit you and you look up to see Michael, who is staring at the ground.

“Please, Michael. You have to listen to me, this makes no sense-” Gina says loudly, making Michael turn quickly and glare at her.

You look at the two of them confused and Michael whispers something at his fiancée before turning to walk back out of the room, but he doesn’t, he just stands by the door. Gina looks through the glass in the doors at you and you lift an eyebrow as if to question her glance.

She looks away and you grin while looking back to the papers in your lap.

“Go home, Gina” Michael whisper yells at her and you try your best to act as if the conversation is not making curiosity crawl under your skin.

The blonde, standing behind the door, sighs and takes a step back. And after that, all you can hear is her thick heels sound over the stone of the hospital’s hallways.

Michael sighs as her steps echo through the empty side of the hospital and he turns back to you, seeing you smirking while reading whatever is there to read in all the family’s money withdraws.

“Trouble in paradise?” You poke, not even lifting your eyes at him.

He doesn’t answer at first, he just walks towards the chair he had been previously seated and sits down ungracefully.

You chuckle under your breath at his silence and flip over the page, reading the handwritten numbers of everything that has been gained and wasted over the name of the Shelby family.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” He pokes back.

You finally look up from the papers and he has a teasing look over his eyes, now.

He’s already comfortable enough to make jokes and tease you back, and, honestly, he almost doesn’t seem like the same Michael from the day after the event.

You don’t hate it. At all.

“Anything is more entertaining than this” You admit, looking back down to your papers.

“I don’t doubt it” He agrees.

You two stay silent again. Minds focusing on two completely different things.

Michael’s travels to Ginna’s words while yours goes back to the numbers.

Gina had just tried to make him follow the plan again. Hurt the prey while it’s weak, she said. But again, he doesn’t agree at all with her words.

Her tone is not understanding anymore, or even slightly sweet. Her tone is what seems to be a way to try and achieve an authorial one. Her words carry venom as she spills the, so, simple task of overthrowing Tommy Shelby.

Michael’s not even sure if she always talked like that and he never noticed, or is it just sounding different now because he can’t stop comparing his fiancée with you.

He honestly deeply hopes that he could just erase that plan from Gina’s mind, she almost seems obsessed over it. Judging by how tired she looks every time she visits, she must have not been sleeping lately.

How and why did this plan even seem good at all? As Michael always been so power-hungry? As he always been so thirsty for success, or felt pleasure over imagining himself sitting on the family’s throne?

No human doesn’t love success, that is the truth. Especially if it all is signed at the bottom with your family’s last name. But what Michael was planning with Gina is nothing of the sort. This was not about making your own money and achieve your own success. This was taking somebody else’s and claiming it as yours.

And that is nothing but dirty and foul. How could he have thought that this was good in the first place?

Fuck the American companies who shamed his family’s business over the not being the ideal business partners. His family is serious and hard working. They came from absolutely nothing. Unlike all those men, who swim in their, nothing but dirty, money.

He must talk to Tommy, to let him know about what they said. The news are going to be old, and he should’ve just told him everything when he had just talked to them. But he didn’t. And he regrets it now. Deeply.

Better late than never, right?

“When’s the wedding?” You ask, breaking the silence in the room.

Michael blinks his thoughts away and looks back up at you to already find you staring. You look curious.

“We- Uhm… we haven’t decided yet” He answers, short and simple.

You nod while pursing your lips forward in thought.

“And have you decided on where is going to be?” You ask, “At least in what country?”

“Gina wants to marry and live in America” He replies, fidgeting in his seat as his hand reaches his pocket.

Michael moves slowly to grab his cigarettes and his lighter from his pocket as you stare.

You don’t exactly know how to react. You’re quite disappointed with his answer, but you’re sure you’ll be able to accept it with time. At least to slow the bitter truth that is Michael finding love and moving abroad. Again.

But why should you care?

It’s true that you haven’t found love in another someone, but you also haven’t tried. In the time Michael was away, you occupied your mind and your heart with work. With papers just like the one’s that rest over your lap now. But you could start all over again with another person. Right?

But do you even know when you stopped loving him? When you gave up in love?

The answer is no. You don’t remember, nor do you feel it missing in your chest. You care for many people, yet you love less. You can count in your fingers how many people you would actually shed a tear if their life came to an unfortunate ending.

It would consist in people like Polly and Finn. People who took care of you at your lowest but also didn’t let you go when you stood in your own feet.

Michael moves forward to tap down the ashes of his cigarette on the ashtray beside you and you force yourself to look back at your papers.

Is Michael one of them?

(…)

“What’s with that face?” Michael asks as walks out of the bathroom.

You look up from your plate of food, the disgusted scowl still in your face.

“This is horrible” You tell him, cringing as you hold your fork in your hand.

Michael chuckles and you look back down, your fork pokes the small pile of overcooked rice and you swear to God that it just jiggled.

How is that even physically possible?

As you’re too ingulfed in your horrible meal, Michael walks to stand next to you and eyes your food from up close. You look over at him and the same exact features of disgust fill his face.

He looks at you as amusement overcomes your emotions and you giggle before looking at the food again.

“That looks…” He starts and you look up at him as he stands straighter, “Delicious” He says, trying his best to motivate you to eat.

You look at him with both a smile and a frown, and he looks at you, biting his lip to contain his other possible descriptions of your so wonderful meal.

“It could honestly be worse” He says, and you gasp.

“Worse?” You ask, smiling in amusement but also confused with his words.

“Yes…?” He answers, “I ate worse when I was here”

“You did not” You disagree.

“I did!” He defends himself.

“You did not!” You repeat, shifting in your seat.

“Y/N, it was way worse. You threw it at the wall once and it stuck!” He emphasizes the last word.

You bite in your laughter at the memory and shake your head.

“Still think it’s worse”

“Then…” He breathes in, serious look on his face, “You’re blind” A small smile cracks at the end.

You laugh a bit and look back at the metal tray. You poke the rice again and it jiggles one more time, making the man beside you chuckle through his noise, under his breath.

“It’s horrible, Michael” You say, slightly upset over this being one of the only meals you have today.

“It is” He finally agrees.

You sigh and put down your fork, falling back against your bed and your pillows.

“You should still eat-”

“I prefer to starve” You answer with a deep breath.

Michael grabs your tray from the small table in front of you and walks over to put it on the counter next to the door. He grabs the apple and throws back to you, landing beside your legs.

“You could’ve hit me” You say.

You grab it and let it rest over your lap as he walks back to the bed.

“Excuse my horrible aim, your highness” He teases, and you roll your eyes, “You’ve done worse to me before”

“Did not” You defend yourself.

“Yes, you did”

He sits down on the side of your bed, next to your legs.

“Like what?”

“You hit me with a jar once, with a rock back in the field, almost stuck a fork on my hand-”

“Those were not on purpose!” You say with a smile.

He smiles back.

“Don’t care. If I was as a careless as you, I could’ve been decapitated by now” He continues, and you giggle at him.

“Decapitated?” You repeat.

“Yes!” He says loudly, “Don’t you remember when you had that machet-?”

“Excuse you?” You ask, sitting up, “That was nowhere near your face!”

“Because I pulled away!” He says as loudly.

You let out a fit of giggles at the memory and the sight of his widen, terrified, eyes back on that day, and Michael stares at you with a smile.

“Good to know my suffering is that amusing”

You giggle away your worries but all of a sudden, you stop laughing abruptly. Your hand rests under your chest as pain starts to spread over your torso. The painkillers probably exceeded their ability to work, over not being able to cover all the pain since you kept on moving.

“You okay?” He asks, worried, smile completely disappearing.

“Yeah, yeah” You say, a small smile of reassurance on your lips, “I think so”

“Want me to check?”

You think for a second and your mind starts overthinking, what if you just popped a stitch?

“No… I think I’m okay”

He looks at you for a little longer and you lean forward a bit.

“I’m good, Michael, don’t worry”

He stays silent while eyeing, worry filling his thoughts, just like yours, and you sigh.

You bring your hand under your hospital gown and touch the thin bandage carefully. Michael watches as you do it, and you almost sigh in relief as you don’t see any blood on your fingertips.

“See? I’m okay”

He nods and you sit up straighter.

“No more laughing for you, then” He says, patting your leg, and another smile starts appearing in your face.

God, you missed this.

(…)

Michael reenters your room as silent as he can and closes the door slowly. The room is now back to its natural darkness of the night, as it is just 5 past 11pm.

You’re still laying on your side in bed, in a deep sleep, just like when he left you to get something warm to drink.

He walks towards you at slow pace, cold fingers wrapped around his paper cup, holding a fresh and hot coffee. He sets it down by your nightstand, letting the steam lift off the liquid into the cold air of the room.

Michael stares down at the vacant part of the bed by your side and lets himself sit next to you.

His mother had just left. You slept the whole way through her visit, but she didn’t seem to mind. She had a lot to talk with him, mostly business.

“She looks so peaceful while she sleeps.”

That’s what his mother had told him as they stared down at you, sleeping under all your blankets before she had to leave. He didn’t answer her. But he agreed.

“You care for her, Michael?”

“Of course, I do.”

The smile she gave him at the sound of those words was unexpected. It was sweet and loving, just like the look she used to give him back when she saw you two together. Back when you were truly together.

It reminds him of all the memories of all the times you would try to annoy him in family dinners.

He doesn’t know why those memories specifically, but he remembers a lot.

The way he would stare at his mom just to try and ignore you further, all because he was “mad” at you. As if he could ever be mad at you. You wouldn’t even hurt a fly at the time. You wouldn’t even screamed back in arguments.

His mother would only smile at him from the other side of the table while seeing you sigh dramatically and lean back on your chair over the lack of response from your pokes and pinches.

Your distressed feelings wouldn’t last long since you would go back to whispering his name right as the family would restart a loud conversation.

You would give up by dessert. You would just grab his hand and lay it over your lap to play with it, obviously bored with all the business talk.

So many things have changed now.

Without even acknowledging it, Michael brings his hand to your cheek. You flinch a little over how cold his fingers are but after that, you give no other reaction. He moves your hair out of your face and smoothly caresses it.

Michael almost feels like his fingers are vibrating. It’s been so long ever since he had touched you like this. Your skin is almost like silk under his calloused fingers.

His finger traces your eyebrow, brushing it carefully as he stares at you, scared to awake you with any sudden movements.

You look so peaceful while asleep, like everything potentially bad in this world had vanished and you were left to just live all there’s good.

He pulls his hand away after some seconds and looks down at you. He grabs onto the top of your blankets and brings them all the way up to your neck, covering any of your exposed skin from the cold wind that is forcing its way in by the small cracks of the windows.

His hand goes back to your face almost at the same second, almost like he misses touching it. It has been so long since the last time he had done it, it almost feels unreal.

In your deep and peaceful sleep, you move your head over the pillow as his movements slow, making his fingers graze over your skin again. Michael doesn’t move, he just lets you do whatever so you can lay comfortably without any interruptions.

The sound of the harsh wind surrounds the room in that same second, hitting and whistling its way against the old windows.

You dip your head a bit under your covers and Michael chuckles through his nose, under his breath. It was almost like watching a cute little chipmunk hiding back inside its tree over the cold.

Without even realizing, in the moments of silence his brain used to create an alternative reality, all he can think of is how much he wants to hold you right now.

His thoughts are completely oblivious to his reality. The one where you two share as much physical touch as two roosters, both fighting for dominance in a chicken filled world. But he can’t help it. He misses you and your touch. He misses your sweet and long hugs, and how warm you always were.

Not even 2 hours ago you two had been playing chess and everything was so… different. He can’t quite understand why, but something in your interactions was pulling the strings of his heart.

It was like 3 days ago when you were discussing your disgusting lunch, where you laughed so hard you two freaked out over ripping a stitch.

Those moments felt unreal to him. Made him feel warm on the inside.

A few hours ago, maybe it was the way you would laugh at his struggles to win the game after his complete horrible plays, or the way you would smile as he looked down at the board thinking.

But it was something.

You’re staring down at the board, chin resting on your fist as you look down at the chess pieces. Your mind going miles a second with all the plays you can imagine, repeating over and over again to see if they made any sense.

You’re surely slow at this game, slower than you were before, but Michael isn’t complaining.

He leans back on his chair, his victory smile already spreading over his lips while you struggled.

“Stop that” You whisper at him, not looking up.

“Stop what?” He asks, humor thick on his tone.

“Stop thinking you’ve already won” You explain.

You look up with a smile on your face as the competitive bones in your body vibrate for you to be able to win this and show him that you’re more than capable to win him 2 times a night.

Michael is already staring. Your gaze meets his almost immediately, it’s both warm and welcoming as the soft and playful nature of your conversation floats in between you.

You bite your tongue and force yourself to look away and back to the board. Your mind is back to blank, you can’t remember the play you had been repeating in your mind.

“The clock is ticking” Michael teases, making your smile widen.

“Stop” You say waving your hand in the air, so he shuts up.

“Better get ready to lose” He sings his words, and you sigh dramatically.

You cover your ears with both of your hands and force yourself into going back to the “chess mentality”. Michael continues to smile down while looking at you and you bite your lips to try and stop yours.

“Ten seconds left”

You glare at him playfully.

“You’re lying”

“Am not, look at the clock”

You ignore him and go back to the board.

“6… 5… 4…” Michael counts down dramatically.

In the middle of the stress and pressure forced upon you, you move one of your pieces without a second thought. As you place it down, Michael shuts up.

You look up at him and he is just staring you amusingly.

“Are you sure about that one?” He asks and you frown.

You look back at your piece and your eyes widen. Why would you do that? You just handed him the whole game in a gold platter.

“No!” You exclaim, hands flying to your face in embarrassment.

Michael’s laughter feels the room and you hear him move his own piece. Your heart swells at the sound of his cackles and you uncover your face to check the board again.

“I’m not playing anymore” You say, voice muffled by your hands.

“Are you officially giving up?” He teases.

You look at the board again and a fake sad look overcomes your face.

“Yes” You sigh.

Michael laughs again and you can almost feel your lips pulling up again. He starts rearranging the pieces and you stare at him as he does it.

“No need to be that sad over this, you’ll eventually get better” He teases.

“Fuck off” You curse.

He smiles widely at your words and you smile back. You continue to stare at him as he carefully places everything back, both of you silent.

As he finishes, he looks up at you.

“Ready to lose?” You ask him and he leans back in his chair.

“As if that will ever happen”

You smile at him while shaking your head and move your first piece, his eyes still on you as you do it.

The fall from those thoughts back to reality is as harsh as one can be.

He shouldn’t even be touching you right now, you probably don’t even want him to. All you’ve done lately is talk and make jokes, doing this will ruin everything.

Michael, right in that same second, retracts his hand away from your face and stands from the bed’s side. He breathes in sharply as he looks down at you and snatches his coffee back from the nightstand.

He shouldn’t be doing this.

He walks away and takes his seat back against the window.

He can’t do this.

(…)

Finally. The day of your freedom. Well, at least some of it. The day you’re finally leaving the hospital.

Polly is not working for the day, but Finn was forced to stay put and do as told. So, it’s just you and her.

You don’t know where Michael is, honestly. He stayed these past few days and nights with you at the hospital, always present in the room whenever you would fall asleep or wake up.

Whenever you would awake, he would be sitting close to the window, smoking and deep in thought. But not today. Your room was empty, with no sight of life except for your own. It was insanely cold there too. Everything felt different, and also extremely uncomfortable.

Polly appeared 2 hours after you woke up and sat up in bed, and many talks with the nurses later, they give you the good news of finally being able to go home.

You know that Polly is in the hallway talking to someone and it has been doing so for some good minutes since she left.

And since she ditched you for whoever that person is, you are now left alone in the bedroom to try and find a way to get dressed. She had brought you clothes from your house, and those same ones were a suit, and, of course, underwear. Some large suit pants, heels, and a silk dress shirt.

She picked those clothes without probably even realizing that you can’t really move at all. And because of that, you can’t stop cursing her enough.

You love that woman, but she does some things that make you question that same love.

You stand over the cold tiled floor with your wobbly legs and shivers run through your body. Why is everything so cold today?

You strip your hospital gown and put on your underwear, hands, or should you say, body shaking in both cold and, of course, pain.

You’ve now learned how you use your torso for almost every movement in your daily life, and you can’t hate this experience more than now.

You take a seat back on the bed and throw your dress shirt over your shoulders, carefully moving your arms, that feel sore, into the sleeves. The white fabric is freezing against your skin, which just makes you want to get dressed faster.

You button some of the buttons at the end of it quickly and grab your pants, pleading that they will bring you some warmth.

Now, how the fuck are you going to get them on?

Putting on your underwear already hurt as it did, and you did it quickly. But what about something like pants? You know, what you need to adjust a thousand times, so they sit well, and that are baggy enough for them to just slide down your legs when not buttoned at your waist.

Where is Polly when you need her?

Right in that same second, the door of the room opens, and you sigh in relief. Polly must have finally remembered the fact that you struggle to even sit for too long.

“Shit, sorry” Michael’s voice sounds behind you and you throw your head back in disappointment.

“It’s fine” You say, annoyance in your tone, but not over him. “It’s not anything you haven’t seen before”

You lean your head back forward and don’t even care to look over your shoulder at Michael, it’s not like you were naked, so it’s not like he’s seeing anything too bad.

You hold your pants in your hands, thinking deeply of every possible way of how you can get them in both of your legs without leaning too forward, like you did with your underwear (and now regret), and quick enough so they don’t just slide off and fall back to your feet.

“Do you need help?” His voice again.

You sit silent for some time, thinking. You could ask him to call over his mom, but what if she’s talking to someone important?

“Yes, please” You admit, giving up.

You hear Michael’s steps behind you, getting closer to the bed, and as soon as he appears next to you, at the end of the bed, you notice that he’s wearing a full suit, unlike any other day. Coat, blazer and vest. His, now, usual way to wear suits.

“I can’t put these on without them falling or hurting myself” You explain with a hint of embarrassment.

He doesn’t say anything, he just lets his eyes fall to your hands and to your pants. Without making you wait any longer, he stands in front of you and takes the piece of clothing from your hands, exposing the skin of your thighs to him and to the cold room.

He crouches and carefully slides each leg of yours into the pants, you don’t even have to do anything, he’s just doing it all.

“Can you stand?” He asks, his voice deep and low, almost in a whisper.

You nod, not looking away from his hands as they rest over your knees, and he takes a small step back for you to have enough space.

As your feet touch the ground again, Michael pushes the rest of the pants up to your torso, where the mostly unbuttoned shirt is. His fingers drag over your skin as they move to pull your pants up, and you almost gasp.

His blue eyes travel from his hands for the first time to your exposed skin. To your stomach, mostly visible over the unbuttoned shirt, to the bandage and to your chest, partly covered by your bra. His eyes almost feel heavy and his breathing quickens at just the sight. You notice it before he even can.

You look up at his face and right on that second, Michael lets go of your clothing. You don’t say anything at first, still feeling his eyes on you, and you swallow harshly as you feel the familiar tingles travel down your torso to the end of your belly.

God, you don’t remember the last time you, actually, felt turned on. It has been so long. But this surely is not when you expected this feeling to come back.

His gaze is so familiar that you almost have to slap yourself to not let your mind travel to so unholy memories. But, deep down, you would be lying if you said that you wouldn’t want him close to you again.

You clear your throat and finally look away.

“Thank you” You whisper.

Michael snaps back to reality and looks up at you. He gives you a small nod and takes another step back, this time, a bigger one.

You lean against the bed, so the baggy waist of the pants can rest over it and not fall, and you bring your shaking fingers to the buttons of your shirt.

You aren’t shaking over the cold or pain anymore. You’ve never felt so hot in your life. You’re shaking over how many emotions you’re feeling all at once.

You struggle a bit at the beginning, but you finally get the hang of it after some embarrassing seconds. Michael watches as your skin disappears under the thin fabric, as well as the small white bandage that covers your wound.

You don’t care that he watches, honestly. You don’t trust your voice all that much right now, so you can’t hide your emotions by teasing him about it, but he surely knows that he shouldn’t be looking.

He has a god damn fiancée.

You finish adjusting your clothes and quickly grab the blazer from the top of your bed, sliding it over your shoulders quickly.

You walk over past Michael to the small mirror in the corner of the room and you do what you can with your hair, since you seem like a mad woman with this much frizz on it.

The door of the room opens again, and you look through the mirror to find Polly.

“You were able to get dressed on your own?” She asks surprised, sparing her son a quick look of confusion.

“I’m a big girl” You answer before Michael can even open his mouth.

You turn back around and walk towards the bed, letting Polly laugh slightly at your comment. You pay attention to your feet as you put on your heels and Polly decides to talk to her son.

“Are you going to talk to Tommy today?” She asks while walking closer to him.

“Yes”

“When?”

There’s a slight pause.

“In an hour” He answers.

You look over your shoulder confused, and they notice it, looking at you with two different looks.

Polly looks like she’s seconds away of explaining to you what this conversation is about, but Michael, god, he looks like he’s about to plead you on his knees to not even ask.

“Can we go home now?” You ask, fulfilling Michael’s silent wishes.

“Of course,” Polly answers.

She’s the first one to start walking out of the room, yet Michael only moves when you start walking after her.

You look over your shoulder a few times to make sure you’re not forgetting anything behind, and Michael does the same, helping you out with an extra pair of eyes.

You follow Polly through the hallways you do not remember walking down before, and you can’t help but feel a little lost and overwhelmed with how long they are. They all look the same, same paintings, same number of windows, same color of the walls. It’s like a maze.

Some nurses stop to look at the three of you and you look down at the stone under your feet, not wanting to show any sort of discomfort or pain over moving, to anyone but the people close you.

Polly opens the crowded hallways of the hospital with her presence as you reach the actual part of the hospital that everyone is using.

Michael stands now beside you, both hands on his pockets while carrying himself with as much confidence as his mother. You almost feel uncomfortable over how different the energy is between them and you.

As you three move around a turn in the hallways, all types of people move as quick as they can out of your way, but a man is not quick enough.

His shoulder hits yours and you look up at him as a reflex. His eyes are filled with worry as they meet yours, his lips read inaudible apologies as you walk away.

Michael’s hand rests over your shoulder that just got hit, and he pulls you in closer to him, away from the crowd. You look away from the man as he shifts his eyes over to Michael, and you move your gaze back to the ground.

Michael glares at the unknown man and holds you in closer protectively, making the man almost cry in apology.

He looks away and looks down at you, finding you staring at the ground. You feel a slight squeeze over your shoulder, but you don’t look up at Michael, you just look up to look at Polly’s figure in front of you.

You all reach the front door of the hospital and a man, who doesn’t even work at the hospital, opens the door for you three. Michael lets you walk in front of him, letting go of your shoulder, and you wait for him by the door before following Polly to the car.

Most of the things you’re doing right now are not even controlled by you, your body is doing them before you even realize. Leaning against Michael, walking close to Michael, letting him touch you, waiting for him so he can stay beside you.

You don’t know what’s going on, but you’re in too much discomfort to even question it.

You reach Polly’s car and Michael opens the door for you. Polly walks around the car to go to the driver’s seat. You struggle a bit to climb up the seat, but you feel Michael’s eyes on you as you do everything.

You finally sit and the door closes beside you. Michael takes his seat at the passenger seat, beside his mother, who starts the car right in the same second.

You lean your head back and sigh under the loud noise of the car, your eyes closed at the soreness of your whole body and the slight pain of your torso.

The drive to Polly’s house is quiet. Nobody dares to open their mouth to ruin the silence as you suffer from the lack of painkillers in your system on the backseat.

You ended up halfway through the drive finding yourself not looking at the road or outside of your window but looking at Michael. He is at a fair distance for you to see his side profile just right, while you’re hidden from Polly’s eyes in the review mirror.

Your mind is blank as you do it, no memories come to hunt you, nor does any other negative feeling. You are at peace for these minutes. Something you haven’t felt for some time.

As Polly’s car comes to a stop in front of her house, you look away from Michael, careful so he wouldn’t notice.

You wonder what has gotten you so focused on him lately.

It’s weird and rather unfamiliar to look at him and not feel some kind of hatred. Maybe it is the fact that he saved your life, a few days ago. But it’s hard to say. There’s surely something else.

It could honestly be anything at this point too. It could be your way to say that you’re thankful for what he did, or even your way to show yourself that you don’t hate him anymore. But do you?

The door beside you opens and you jump in your seat for being so rudely awaken from your thoughts.

“You alright?” Michael asks from beside you.

You just nod.

He steps away from the door and you see Polly already walking inside the house, not even waiting for you two.

You slide slowly off your seat and stand aside from the door so Michael can close it. He does that and you both walk silently inside his mom’s house.

“Are you staying for lunch, Michael?” Polly screams all the way from the kitchen.

You take your jacket off and he looks over at the kitchen to look at his mother, who awaits his answer.

“Uh, no” He answers, also taking his jacket off. “I’m having lunch with Gina, today”

You swallow hard as you turn around and hang your jacket on the wall. Michael is quick to do the same and you keep your distance from him, walking towards Polly.

“Alright, it’s just us then, Y/N” Polly says with a smile to you and you give the same exact smile.

“Guess so” You say, trying to mimic her excited tone but failing horribly.

Michael looks over at you as you answer with an annoyed tone, but you can’t see him over your back being turned to him. He glances at his mom confused and she just gives him a quick shrug.

“I can stay if you want me to” He says, looking at his mom.

“Oh no, don’t worry about us” Polly says, waving her hand in the air to dismiss him, “Y/N is going to be working for most of the day anyways”

Michael does a quick nod, and you walk in the kitchen, leaning against the counter.

Your heart is beating faster than normal, you really weren’t expecting him to offer to have lunch with you two. Was it because of your tone?

Polly walks over to a cabinet and starts to grab the things she will need for whatever she’s making for lunch.

Michael appears next to you and takes a seat on one of the highchairs next to you. You ignore his presence and lace your own fingers together over to counter to hide your sweaty palms.

What is going on with you?

(…)

“Can you please let go of that and eat?” Polly asks you and you look up from the papers in front of you.

“Sorry” You say with a slight smile.

You grab your fork and eye the freshly made meal in front of you. Your mind is heavy with so many thoughts that it’s hard to even want to stop to work. You need to distract yourself, or else you’re going insane.

Could you be liking Michael all over again? Is that what’s happening?

He will hurt you again, you know. He has a person that he loves, now. Gina. You’re nothing to him anymore, just a friend… Oh… Can you even be considered a friend?

Have you even forgiven him yet?

You’re jumping to conclusions just because he is close to you. He has no interest in you anymore, Y/N. Grow out of it. Stand your ground. You’re being ridiculous. Since when are you this weak?

You bring a hand over your forehead in frustration and you rub your skin to try and make the thoughts go away.

“What’s wrong?” Polly asks as she looks up from her lunch at you.

“Nothing” You say, shaking your head a little.

“You lie to me now?” She comments, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms over her chest. “Be honest, come on”

“It’s nothing bad, Pol, I swear”

“Just tell me what it is about” She asks, curious, “You’re supposed to be relaxing, and you’ve been all tense since you got here”

You lean back on your chair as well and put your fork down.

You’re falling in love again. You want to forgive him. After so many years of fighting for your worth. Everything in the garbage now. All because he showed you the simplest of human empathy over being shot.

Your heart is beating rapidly against your chest as your gaze shifts over to the ceiling, your body seeking comfort in the memories that rest so deep and distant in your mind as your negative thoughts fight for dominance.

“I feel weak” You comment, “It’s ridiculous, it is. But I can’t help it”

Tears water your eyes in that same second and you sigh loudly at how ridiculous this whole thing is. You shouldn’t be crying. There’s nothing to cry about.

“Why do you feel that way?” Polly asks softly, worry heavy on her tone.

You wipe your tears away quickly and sniffle shortly, not wanting to show how upset you really are.

“I don’t know. I was okay before all of this. All I could feel was anger in me, or I just felt normal, and now-” You gasp for air as a sob fights its way to your mouth, “And now all I feel is sadness. It’s like… It’s like everything is crashing down on me”

Polly stares at you confused. Yes, you haven’t been your so happy self with her since you got home, but she just thought it was because you were tired.

You looked just fine back at the hospital yesterday when you were playing chess with Michael.

She stands in her chair and walks over to you as you wipe your tears forcefully, hating to be this distraught over something you don’t even fully understand.

“What is this about?” She asks, resting her hand over your cheek.

You shake your head, and you swallow your tears quickly. You’re stronger than this.

“I just feel like everything is going backwards” You admit, staying silent for some seconds, “I’m not healing anymore” You breathe in, “It’s like the wound is reopening again and it’s all my fault.”

You don’t use the actual words of what you are feeling. You’re too embarrassed to admit it out loud. But, at the same time, you’re scared that Polly might think you’re weak, or even ridiculous. Just like you do.

You’re at fault here, nobody else is. You made your bed by acting all nice and sweet with him, and now look at what you’ve done. You ruined everything.

Polly eyes you as she rethinks your words, not taking them literally and not thinking about your actual wound, and leans over at you, eyeing you eye to eye.

She frowns a bit as you calm down slowly after your confession and her thumb smooths your skin away carefully.

“Is this about-” She stops herself about instantly. It has to be.

You look away from her embarrassed and she eyes you sweetly. Her other hand coming up to cup your other cheek as she makes you look at her.

She understands it.

It’s like love is crushing you. Crushing your every little bit of strength all over again. Like it’s destroying you and destroying everything you’ve built in these 2 years.

As if your walls are falling, and all its bricks are laying on top of you. Punishing you for not fighting whoever attacked them or threatened to destroy them.

Polly continues to stand silent and pulls you into a hug, you lean forward in your chair and wrap your arms around her, right away. She wraps hers the same way and squeezes you close to her.

Kisses lay over your head as she hugs you close to her and you feel your chin start to shake again.

You’re falling again.

(…)

“Are you listening to me?” Gina asks and Michael looks up at her.

“No, sorry” He says shaking his head a bit, “I was thinking about work”

“It’s okay,” She forgives, “I was saying that I talked to some people back in America today…”

Michael holds a frown almost instantly.

“-And we’ve talked about all sorts of wedding venues” He tenses up, “The price range changes a lot from whether we want an outside reception or not”

“Hum…” He itches the back of his neck, “Yo-you’ve already decided on a date?”

“Of course!” She answers with a smile, “You said back at the ship that the sooner the better and I’ve checked with a lot of people and…” She stops to add suspense to her speech, “We can get it done next month” She announces.

Her excitement is not even slightly mirrored by her fiancé.

“What?” She asks, smile falling off her features, worry in her tone, “Do you not like the idea?”

Michael opens his mouth to answer but closes it right away, so she continues.

“I thought it would be a good thing.” She explains, “Since we’re not doing- what we were supposed to be doing, for now, and it’s always better to come back home earlier than expected- Do-do you not agree?”

“I uhm… I just thought we would have a longer engagement, that’s all” Michael says quickly. “But uhm…”

There are a few seconds of silence until he rethinks her words.

“For now?” He repeats confused, “Gina, god. We won’t be doing our plan anymore. You know that better than anyone.”

“Michael let’s not talk about this, please” She says as she brings her glass of wine to her lips.

“Gina, just listen to me.” He says calmly, “We’re not doing anything. I’ve talked to Tommy today and he’s already dealing with all of this”

“What?”

“I’ve talked to Tommy about-”

“Our plan?!” She asks scared.

“No.” Michael says in a scowl, “I told him what they told us, that they didn’t want to work with us. That’s all”

“Why would you do that?” She asks, disappointment and anger being the only expressions readable on her face.

“Because Gina… We are not doing this anymore” He repeats.

“You shouldn’t have done that” She says, shaking her head, “You should’ve asked for my opinion, for my side on this. You can’t decide everything on your own, I was in this too”

“I had to. It feels wrong to betray my family” He explains, feeling helpless, “How can you not understand?”

There’s a quick silence between them.

“I can’t understand because it was so sudden, Michael. I don’t know what happened when I wasn’t with you here, but we came into this country with a plan. A perfect plan that would only help us both. And now…” She sighs, “You just don’t want to do it anymore?”

“I’ve said this before. It doesn’t feel right to take everything out of my family’s name and put it in mine.” He answers calmly, “I can’t do it to them”

She shakes her head disappointingly.

“We can still live our lives after this plan, Gina. We did it for a year. We can still do it now” He insists. “Our relationship wasn’t about this before, and surely isn’t now”

His words didn’t sound right to him. It didn’t sound like he was convincing Gina anymore; it was like he was convincing himself.

And she noticed the hesitation on his words.

“Why did you say it like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like you are actually thinking twice if our relationship was just about business”

“You know that’s not true, Gina” He says disapprovingly.

“Well, it sounds like it” She says, anger on her tone, “I don’t know what has gotten into you Michael. Or what girl got on you, but you have to remember who really is on your side here.” She emphasizes the world ‘girl’.

“What are you talking about?”

“When we came here, she laughed over what happened with you at the Crash. Laughed, Michael. She wasn’t on your side” She exclaims.

He looks down at his food.

“I was always by your side. I was there when we saw all the numbers go down. Where was she? Here, probably cursing you and blaming you for everything that happened”

“It was my-”

“No, it wasn’t. We’ve talked about this. The warning that your cousin gave to you to pull out could’ve been just a false warning, you did what was right-”

“I don’t get where you’re going with this.” Michael interrupts.

He looks back up.

“She is not your fiancée, Michael. I am. I get it that she was in your past, for whatever reason, and that she got hurt. But we came into this country for a reason. Our. Plan. And she made everything stop.”

He stays quiet.

“There shouldn’t be sides for you to pick, Michael. I should be your priority.” She scoffs, “If we’re not here doing anything, then we might as well just leave.”

He stays quiet, again, but this time he shakes his head.

“See? You’re picking to stay here. Again.” She nods. “She’s your priority, Michael. And you should feel disgusted with yourself”

She looks away from him as Michael doesn’t agree or disagree, he just stares blankly at her in silence.

She breathes in deeply and grabs the napkin off her lap.

“I’ll see you back at the hotel. We can talk about this later” She whispers at him.

She rises from her chair and walks away from the table, leaving her dinner not even half eaten and most of her wine still on her glass.

He watches her as she walks away and out of the restaurant, yet his heart doesn’t budge, not even a little. He feels relieved as she walks away, but this new conversation is still difficult for him to process.

There is something stopping him.

Stopping him from disagreeing with her words. Something that is keeping his mind clogged in these situations. Something that whenever close, it makes his heart speed up and question his loyalty. As horrible as that sounds.

He knows what, or rather who, that something is. He doesn’t want to admit it, but it’s there.

And everything is coming back with it. Whether he likes it or not.

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