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#hey Isaac’s in good company now at least
connorsnothereeither · 4 months
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People are mad about the recent “Isaac Newton doing spooky shit” inclusion in Protocol, as if we didn’t drag Robert Smirke’s name through the monster-filled mud for 5 seasons of TMA lmao
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natimiles · 11 months
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Hellooo it’s the same anon from before :)
I was wondering if you could write (only if you want to! No pressure whatsoever :D) platonic headcanons or scenarios for your favourite IkemenVampire boys with a gn!reader (age is up to you). I feel like our vampire men, however handsome they are, would also be great older brothers (albeit a bit outdated on technology ahaha)
Again, please don’t write this if you don’t want to :) it was just a thought in my head and I really enjoyed your work of the IkemenVampire characters with the reader that has a tattoo, but you take priority :D
-🥀 anon (if you allow it ofc)
Hii, dear 🥀
Sorry, I’m a slow writer haha. I was finishing another fanfic, but here we go!
Sometimes I feel they have a brotherly relationship when we’re not in their routes, so I really liked it! It's my first request, so that adds to the excitement, hahaha.
I wrote them separately, I hope it's how you wanted it (:
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A gn!reader with a sibling-like relationship with them | Isaac, Mozart, Jean, Arthur, Theo and Vincent, and Napoleon
Tags: gn!reader; minor spoilers from their routes.
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Isaac
He accepted Comte’s offer to have some alone time for peaceful work. With the little school he and Napoleon had set up, he didn't want any more responsibilities in his life. However, as always, things never seemed to go his way.
You’re stubborn and clumsy, and he can’t make sense of half the things you do. However, for some inexplicable reason, he’s intrigued by the challenge of understanding you. Before he knows it, you’ve become a part of his daily life.
You make sure he has all his meals and encourage him to leave his room sometimes, at least to go to the garden and get some sun on his skin. You even took care of him when he was sick, never leaving his side until he was better. You talk about what you remember studying about him in school and how he should consider being a professor here. You pester him until he does what you want and pretend to cry when he runs out of patience, just to make him feel bad for the outburst; but you’re also there when he needs to talk and always defend him from others (you’re the only one allowed to tease him about the apples).
“Hey, Newt, fancy a slice of apple pie?” You managed to get Arthur to stop calling him that. You might’ve even threatened him.
He always looks for you now, whether he needs advice about his new job, has a problem, or wants to grab a meal at that downtown cafeteria. He’s happy when you seek him out for advice or to hang out on a day off. Having you around is comforting; he’s no longer alone. You’re the family he’s always wanted, and he’ll protect you with everything he has, which mainly involves glaring at others while blushing (this man is not a fighter). He still enjoys spending time alone, working. He’s aware that you’ll come looking for him if he spends too much time locked in his room.
He probably won’t say much if you meet someone you like; he’s not overprotective. However, he’ll attempt to meet them to determine if they’re a good person (he might even call Napoleon to help him with this).
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Mozart
When you arrived at the mansion, things were lively, and he despised it. You’re a troublemaker; it’s obvious. Comte once warned them about how dangerous it could be to cross the door without him because they could get lost. Yet, you managed to cross it by accident! Looking back, that was a red flag already, but you keep doing stupid things every time, so it’s hard to say which one really is the red flag. He should stay away, but for some reason, he feels an urge to protect you.
As time passes, and he grows accustomed to your presence (and your chocolates, ahem), he realizes that you’re not only his new best friend but also family. In his first life, he was the youngest son and was very close to his sister, so he finds solace in your company and the new sibling-like relationship you share. 
You two are joined at the hip in no time. You’re definitely his favorite person in the world now. Congrats, you got yourself an overprotective brother — but he means well. Arthur touches you? Mozart’s there in a second with a handkerchief in hand, ready to clean you of those scoundrel’s germs. You cut your finger? He helps you bandage it. Are you taking care of the violets in the garden? He’s there beside you, keeping you company while he composes a new piece.
He loves playing for you and always shows you his new pieces first. Your opinion means a lot to him, even though you may not be as versed in music as he is. If you encourage him to play and attend more aristocratic parties, he might even give it a shot. His trips downtown have become easier since you helped him overcome his fear of carriages, so he’s gradually getting used to them.
He might even teach you a thing or two on the piano if you’re interested, so you two can play together for the residents, just as he used to do with his sister. He’s a surprisingly patient and kind teacher. It’s a side he only reveals to you and Jean, and even the soldier never sees his friend smile fondly at anyone else.
God help the person that falls in love with you. He won’t be creepy about it, but he’ll be condescending until he’s certain they deserve you and his trust. The two of you now understand Theo and Vincent a little bit better.
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Jean
He’s confused about why you want to be friends with him. He doesn’t think he deserves it, yet you persist, and something inside him just allows it. As you start teaching him how to write and read, he notices how patient and kind you are.
He’s the sweetest brother you could get. He feels like you’re his older sibling (and probably is, considering how young he died). He will protect you whenever you need, after all he’s a trained soldier. He shows you his diary and everything he writes. He asks for advice and always listens intently to what you have to tell him, because you don’t judge him even when he’s having a bad day. He’s interested in your stories about the future, he can’t understand how there’s such technology (the poor guy lived in a century that didn’t even have electricity yet).
You help in his shop when you can and you take care of him. You’re the only person who can actually make him eat/drink something, at least some blanc so he doesn’t starve himself again. He doesn’t want to disappoint you. He doesn’t want you to leave him and lose another family, so he makes an effort to care at least a little bit about himself, and you praise him every time you notice it.
A customer asks for something he doesn’t know how to write yet? “Wait a minute, please, I’ll ask my sibling how to write it.” And the customer is confused, because he didn’t know Jean had a sibling.
If you fall in love, he’ll be so happy for you! Obviously, he’ll be wary of them at first, but he’s such a chill brother. He’ll miss spending more time with you, but he’ll be happy to know you’re happy.
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Arthur
Chaos. That’s what happened ever since you two met. Comte might have lots of gray hair now, because of you.
He tries to scare you out of the mansion, but you laugh. He hits on you, you yawns. He threatens to bite you, you bite him first and he yelps so loud, everybody came to see what happened. And when you challenge him to a game, he doesn’t lose but it’s really close.
He is observant and really smart, so he notices fast that he really enjoys your company and wants to hang out with you more, even though he doesn’t see you in a romantic way. You make him feel confident about himself again, like his own writing, and even consider being a doctor once more. He protects you from the idiots and teaches you all he knows about card games, and you actually win twice. That’s his sibling!
You become his partner in crime, but don’t think he lets you do everything you want. He’s actually really responsible when it comes to you. He locks himself in his room sometimes, but when you do it he drags you out and makes you eat something. If you’re sick, he takes care of you and sleeps on the floor beside your bed until you’re good again. Once Isaac tried to bite you when you cut your hand, and he just put his hand in front of Isaac’s mouth to protect you. When you go out to the pub with him and Theo, no one dares coming close to you, they know your brother can be scary when he wants.
You’re going out with someone? He won’t pry much, but he wants to know if you need some advice or if something happens. He knows very well how people can be with their desires, and he just wants you to be ok. Don’t get him wrong, he doesn’t want you to keep your chastity nor anything like that, he just wants to make sure it’s all consented and protected. Are you in love with them? Oh, that’s nice! He can’t wait to meet them! 
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Theo and Vincent
First of all, you can’t become a sibling to just one of them. Theo would be devastated and Vincent would certainly miss his brother. That’d end up with the three of you as a family anyway, so…
Vincent’s been nice to you since the first moment, so it’s not hard to befriend him. But Theo is a different story. He actually just starts to try being nice to you when he sees you defending and helping Vincent with his emotions. You also help him with his work and some problems from his previous life, and he ends up grateful. And the three of you are inseparable now.
Theo likes to hear you talk about the arts from the future, Vincent hears your ideas for painting and likes to use you as a model, and you make sure they’re healthy and eating while working. They have a strong protector feeling towards you, you’re their youngest sibling. 
You're really proud of your new family. The first art exposition you help with is actually a success because you talked so much about your brothers that everybody got curious. You protect them with everything you have. Theo still calls you hondje, but you can’t blame him. You bark and bite anyone who tries to mess with them, and he says he can almost see a wagging tail when they come home, and you greet them.
You start painting, even if you don’t know how to do it. Vincent is patient enough to guide you and teach you the basics. Theo tries to be supportive, but what the hell is that paint supposed to be? If you look upset about his comments, he’ll apologize and give you a stack of pancakes to cheer you up.
May the lord have mercy from the person that falls for you. Vincent is an angel, but he doesn’t want you getting hurt, so he’ll find out if they’re trustworthy before being too nice. Theo is savage from the first moment he meets them. You’re upset with him and he can’t stand it, so he’ll try to be a little nice. Keyword: try.
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Napoleon (I already see him as an older brother)
He tried to help you from the first second you passed the door, so you bonded quickly. He has the urge to protect you since you seem pretty reckless on your own. He likes taking care of others; he already has Isaac as a younger sibling, so he certainly doesn't mind having you too.
He helps you get used to this new century, giving you a tour through the city and assisting you with some chores. You help with his and Isaac's school; the kids love you so much that he can't help but find it endearing. You quickly come to rely on him, as it's really easy to trust him. You ask for his help whenever you need it, even if it's as simple as teaching you how to dance so you can go to a ball, and he gladly helps you.
He’s not overprotective; he offers his advice and trusts you’ll make good decisions on your own. However, he makes sure to draw the line for Arthur, he doesn’t want you getting hurt or bitten… Ok, he might want to overprotect you sometimes. He’ll teach you self defense, just in case.
He’ll try not to pry too much if you fall in love with someone, you’re a nunuche but you’re trustworthy. He knows you’ll come to him if you need something or if your heart gets broken — and may the Lord have mercy if it actually happens.
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Masterlists
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erimeows · 3 years
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Yellow Roses
The first time was a learning experience.
Bumblebee had been innocent to the ways of human gift-giving back then, unsure of what to get or where to get it, but after using the internet and looking up where to buy gifts for humans, he found that there was a gift shop down the street from where the Autobot base was, and he begged and pleaded with Sari for some of her allowance money “for something important”.
He wasn’t sure what he wanted to get. What he was sure of, though, was that he was completely enamored with you and had been since day one- and he couldn’t bring himself to confess yet, but if he didn’t channel his feelings somehow, they were going to burst.
But as he approached the gift shop on that sunny day in Detroit, no other than Optimus Prime walked out and bumped into him. Thankfully, before he could fall back at the impact, Optimus reached out and caught him, placing him back on his feet with one strong servo. 
“P-Prime, hey!” Bumblebee grinned and tried to look as inconspicuous as possible. He knew he wasn’t guilty of anything nefarious, per say, but he had no idea how Optimus would feel about him being in love with a human and wanting to buy gifts for said human with money that wasn’t his. “What are you doing here?”
“Uh, nothing much...” The other Autobot blatantly lied and hid a bouquet of blue and gold flowers that Bee didn’t know the name of behind his back, face burning the brightest shade of red the smaller bot had ever seen it. “Are you looking for something in particular?”
“I don’t know, I mean, what do humans even like?” Bumblebee muttered without thinking, and upon seeing Optimus’s optics widen, he raised his servos defensively and shook his head. “I mean, uh-! Never mind! What’s up with the flowers?”
“Ah,” Optimus gave an awkward grin and held the flowers in front of him instead of continuing to hide them, probably realizing that it was too late and Bumblebee had already seen them. The younger bot wondered if they were for Optimus or for someone else, but he didn’t dare ask, only listening to his leader talk. “I learned that unlike some other organic planets, on earth, it’s considered rude to pick plants if they’re in close proximity to someone’s home or in front of a public building or park unless they’re a specific type called weeds, which flowers aren’t, but I wanted to buy some for someone, so I came here to pick them up after asking Sari about it. Are you gift buying, too?”
“Well, yeah, I guess you could say that,” Bumblebee looked away and held his forearm in one servo, anxiously shifting his weight between his stabilizing servos. It felt like him and Optimus Prime had reached into the cookie jar and caught each other. 
Bumblebee didn’t dare ask who the flowers were for even though he was dying to know in fear that Optimus would ask who he was at the gift shop for in return. An uncomfortable silence fell onto them momentarily, both of them quiet and staring at each other with the noise of traffic and the bustling Detroit citizens walking on the pavement who kept passing by to keep them company.
“I’ve been doing some reading since Sari’s birthday is in a few months,” Optimus tried to continue the conversation and cleared his throat. “The customs for gift giving can involve about anything when it comes to human girls, but the most common are flowers, books, chocolates, jewelry, clothing, video games, or gifts of practicality, which just seem to be hygiene products and things they can use in their daily lives. Gift cards and vouchers with money on them are also common, but considered less personable, so I wouldn’t go that route if you’re close with the one you’re buying for unless they specifically ask for it.”
“Oh... I gotcha. Good ideas, bossbot!” Bumblebee smiled again, the corners of his lip-plates sore from how forced it was due to his nerves.
What if Optimus had figured it out? That would defeat the whole point of his plan; buy you nice things and leave them at your door in the middle of the night without his name attached. It was simple and easy, but if Optimus knew before he even got to try it?
Well. That made it a lot harder.
Thankfully, though, Optimus gave him a nod and bid him a good afternoon, then walked away.
Bumblebee found himself letting out a sigh of relief.
Thank Primus...
...Hours later, Bumblebee regretted all of his life decisions. He was sitting, holed up in his room with one audial pressed up against your wall. It was a terrible habit of his, but he eavesdropped on you pretty frequently when he heard bits and pieces of you talking through the wall, and he was doing it right now.
He wasn’t sure how he had expected it to go, but when he dropped the bouquet of yellow roses at your bedroom doorstep when you were out for lunch and no one was in the halls, he had hoped that you would simply take the flowers, appreciate them, and never say another word. However, you were currently telling Sari about it, which made sense considering that the young girl dropped by your room often and asked you to do her hair or makeup as an excuse to spend time with you- you were an adult, a lot older than Sari, but the two of you got along very well considering that you were the only one who actually knew how to take care of her properly when Isaac Sumdac wasn’t around.
“I have no idea!” You exclaimed, no doubt in reference to the flowers. Bumblebee cringed. What if Sari made the connection that the money he had borrowed from her was for that? What if she told everyone, or what if you told everyone, and Prime realized why he was at that gift shop and let his secret slip? “I can only assume it was you or one of the guys, but like... I don’t know who.”
“Yeah, I have no idea! It wasn’t me, I would’ve just given ‘em to you. We should dig deeper, (y/n)!”
Oh. Oh, Primus, no. 
“I’m not sure, Sari, whoever it was probably dropped it off like that for a reason,” Bumblebee heard you sigh, and at the same time, he let out a sigh of relief. Maybe you would just forget about it and-
“Wait! Do you have a secret admirer!?”
Dammit. Maybe not.
“I... Highly doubt that, the only one I’d be interested in anyways is-” You started, and then cut yourself off in a way that made Bumblebee’s spark shatter and crumble into little pieces inside his chassis. You were single, but you were already into someone? What if it wasn’t him? He’d understand, of course- Prime was stronger, Prowl was smooth, Bulkhead was talented, and Ratchet was intelligent. Compared to them, he felt like he didn’t have much to offer you. Everyone around him was amazing, and he was just there, but... He loved you, and he wanted you to know how loved you were. So, whether you’d love him back or not, he’d keep giving everything he had to you; even if the way in which he went about it was indirect. “Actually, never mind, but your braids are done-”
“No, wait, you can’t just gloss past that!” Sari whined. Bee almost didn’t want to hear the rest of your discussion, but he couldn’t keep himself from listening. “Who is it, who is it!?
“Let’s just go play Animal Crossing in the living room, we can talk about all of that at a later date, yeah?” You offered, voice laced with both your amusement and confusion. 
“Fine, fine, but you have to tell me soon! Pinky promise.”
“Fine, pinky promise. Now let’s go.”
Bumblebee heard your door open and close, followed by what he presumed to be you and Sari’s footsteps in the hallway. The sound eventually dissipated.
The Autobot was left to lay back on his berth and stare at the ceiling with a huff.
You were telling others about the gift he left, trying to get to the bottom of it, and you were into someone or somebot he didn’t even know about.
What had he gotten himself into?
-
The second time, he felt a little better about it. It was a week later and he hadn’t heard any discussion of the subject amongst the other Autobots, so he assumed nothing had come from it.
But, as he lounged on the living room couch, he jumped upon you sitting down on the couch’s arm- right by where his head was laid.
It made sense that he had been jumpier around you over the past few days. Part of it was the usual I’m-in-love-with-you-and-super-tense-about-it jumpiness that he had become accustomed to, but it was made worse by the fact that he was guilty; guilty of keeping a secret from you, of indirectly lying to you. He could’ve done it the one time with the roses and let it die down after, but when you’d talked about your old game controller breaking the night before at the dinner table, he hadn’t been able to help himself- he went and got it along with a new bouquet of yellow roses, left it in front of your room later that night, knocked, and ran away.
It was the next day, and understandably, he’d been anxious about it. It was better than the first time, but he was just hoping you wouldn’t talk about it.
Of course, he was never that lucky, and you looked at him with the controller literally in your hands. 
“Hey, Bee, do you know anything about this?” You asked.
Had he been caught? Did you know? Or were you just trying to get information from him in case he knew something? Unsure, he decided to play it safe and act oblivious. 
“Huh? What’s that?”
“I’m taking that as a no, but someone left this new controller on my doorstep with a bouquet of roses? I needed a new one, but I only mentioned it to you and the others, so I think it’s one of you guys... But this is the second time I’ve received a gift without any name on it and I’m really confused. I’ve done some asking around, but the only one who seems to know anything is Optimus, and he won’t give me any hints and insists that he has no idea what I’m talking about.”
Great. So, Optimus probably realized why Bumblebee had been at the gift shop last week. Well... From what you said, it sounded like Optimus was at least decent enough to stay out of his business and keep the secret for him- or try to, at least. 
“Yeah? That’s weird, I don’t really know why he’d be like that about it... Wanna play Streetfighter?”
“Sure, but I’m just super confused, man,” You muttered, turning on the playstation and giving a frustrated huff. The game quickly turned on, and while Bee took the old controller, you connected your brand new one and chose your stage, your character being Akuma. Bee chose Ken to fight with and listened to you continue as the game started. “I thought the first time might’ve just been a one-off thing, but it’s happened again, and the flowers were one thing, but now it’s flowers and a new controller. Anyone else would be creeped out, and I’m not creeped out- more flattered than anything since I know it’s from you or one of the other Autobots- but this is really expensive... I’d at least like to be able to say thank you!”
“That makes sense, I think I’d feel the same way,” The black and yellow bot mumbled. The game had hardly started and he was already losing due to his inability to focus- it was so bad that he couldn’t even combat you when you crowded his character into the corner and kicked him over and over and over again. His health bar dropped to zero, signaling that you’d won round one.
Round two started, and he did a little better; actually jumping away from your cornering attempts and offering some blasts and punches, but by the time it ended, he’d only gotten you down to half health, and you were delivering your final blow. Ken fell to the ground, Akuma still standing. 
You didn’t even press replay despite being player one. No, instead, you let out a huff and stared at the ceiling. Bumblebee found himself resting his helm against your thigh without thinking, enjoying the warmth against his faceplates. You two were best friends, very comfortable with each other and with physical affection, so you didn’t mind it, only running a gentle hand over one of his audials in return. 
Both of you set your controllers down. It was obvious that both of you were so focused on the subject of your anonymous gifts that the game didn’t catch either of your interests like it usually would. 
“I might try to ask Optimus about it again tomorrow... Information extraction,” You joked, but Bumblebee quickly sat up and objected. 
“Wait, I don’t think that’s such a good idea!”
“Huh? Why not? He’s the only one who’s given me so much as a reaction,” You argued and stood up to turn the game system off, then started pacing around the room. “And I guess his eyes getting all wide ‘n stuff may have just been something else, but like... It’s all I’ve got to go on.”
“Yeah, but you know how the bossbot is,” Bee stood as well, trying his hardest not to look like he was in the midst of blowing a circuit from the panic that was currently taking over his processor. “He shuts down when you push him too hard. If he knows anything about it, you gotta wait for him to come to you with that sweet info.”
“You’re probably right, Bee, thanks for the advice,” You smiled, and then walked to him to put a hand on his shoulder plate. “I’m gonna go to bed, ‘kay? Goodnight.”
You looked into his optics, and oh Primus, he was gone; your eyes were such a beautiful shade of (e/c), and your smile was so beautiful, and you were so beautiful, and he was so in love-
Quickly, he realized that he was taking too long to respond, so he quickly stammered something out.
“G-Goodnight...” 
And then, you left, swiftly turning and walking out of the living room.
Bumblebee found himself letting out a sigh of relief, but at the same time, he missed you desperately.
He wished he’d given you a hug goodnight.
And, as he stood alone in the dark living room, he thought back to how exactly he’d ended up in his current predicament; painfully in love with a human, giving them things without having the courage to do it face-to-face, life feeling like it was falling apart with every hour that passed without him being able to kiss you and tell you how much he loved you like he so desperately wanted to. 
He’d loved you from the very start, and as bold as he was, he couldn’t bring himself to tell you- he was just too scared, but...
What if this was what finally gave it away...?
-
The third time was what ended up blowing his cover. He should’ve left it alone, and he had told himself that after the last time- it was far too close of a call when you talked about Optimus knowing something, and he was so obvious with his own emotions during that, too... He wouldn’t do it again.
But then, he was shopping with Sari that day and saw a (f/c) hoodie that was just your size and style, and he decided you had to had it. So, when Sari was distracted at a different store, he got the hoodie, along with a new notebook, some pens, and a stuffed bee. He bought the gifts for you and put them in a nice gift bag with some paper, then left them by your door and disappeared before anyone could see him. 
He was sitting in the living room yet again. It was late at night, and though him and his team had spent most of that night playing board games and catching up with a movie playing in the background, they’d all went to bed hours ago, leaving him to think by himself.
He’d lost at every game; Uno, Monopoly, Candyland, Sorry, Cards Against Humanity, and Scrabble, all because he was staring at you the entire time. 
Why couldn’t he just get over himself and confess already? It was selfish to keep hiding from you, because what if the one you’d mentioned being interested in was actually him? And even if it wasn’t him, was it fair for you to think that he saw you as a friend when he was secretly in love with you? Was it fair for you to keep receiving gifts and never knowing who they were from? 
Speak of the devil, though- the second Bumblebee looked up from where he was standing in the middle of the room, you were leaning against the doorway, wearing the hoodie he’d bought you and a pair of pajama shorts. You looked sleepy with your (h/l) (h/c) hair a mess and your soft hands rubbing the bleariness out of your (e/c) eyes. 
“Bee?” You mumbled.
“(y/n), where’d you just come from? You look tired! You okay?”
“Yeah, I’m tired, but I’m fine. I was in the hallway, kinda waiting for everyone else to go to bed so I could talk to you, but... It took me a minute to come in here.” Bumblebee walked towards you and raised his optical ridge. His spark sank to the floor because oh Primus, was this it? Was it finally happening?
“Oh, uh... Why do you need to talk to me alone? What’s up?”
You averted your gaze and gently grabbed one of his servos with your hand, holding it tightly. Bumblebee took a sharp intake. You were about to start talking, and he wasn’t sure he was ready for it. 
“I know it’s you,” You confessed with a guilty smile. Bumblebee froze in place and cringed. “I feel bad, but my curiosity was killing me, so I asked around some more and did a lot of prying- Optimus seemed like he was hiding something when I talked to him about it, so I pried until he gave up and told me that he suspected it was you; that he’d seen you at a gift shop the day I got the first bouquet, that he’d seen you lingering in the hallways the past few times I’ve gotten something, etcetera. He gave me enough details that I pieced it together, so... Yeah.”
“Well, at least it’s out of the way,” Bumblebee laughed out loud, and surprisingly, you smiled back at him. This wasn’t how he wanted it to come out, but he wasn’t sure it would have come out at all if not for this. “Getting human money without a real job is hard! Glad I could at least confess without having to do it so much that I went bankrupt.”
“Bee...” You started again, peering up at him, but he felt like he wasn’t ready for what was going to happen next. Were you about to reject him? He wasn’t sure he wanted to find out. 
“Well, now that that’s done, I’m gonna go ahead and go to bed! I could use a really good recharge right about now-”
“Bee-” You cut him off with a pout and gripped his servo, obviously not done, but he only continued in hopes that you would give it up and let him escape the situation. 
“Goodnight, (y/n)-”
“Bee!�� You yelled and pulled him towards you by his wrist so you could get in his face. “For God’s sake, man, stop and listen to me talk for a second!”
“Okay, okay! I’m sorry! I just-” He tossed his hands up defensively, ready to spill his circuits out, only for you to cut him off.
“You don’t think I love you back, right? You’re such a dolt!” You exclaimed. 
“What’s that supposed to mean!?” Bumblebee yelled back at you, processor only catching the insult before he thought back on ‘I love you back’ and froze. “...Oh. Sorry.”
“I mean I’ve loved you for months now! Even before I realized it, I think I would’ve been more than open to dating you at any point in time, I mean... You’re pretty great. Why didn’t you just tell me?”
“Well, uh-” Bumblebee stopped and took in a deep intake, then sighed and linked your fingers with his digits so he could hold your hand properly. The anxiety that had been building up over you for so long now was finally leaving his body and being replaced by relief.“I don’t know. I feel kinda stupid now.”
“C’mere,” You mumbled and wrapped an arm around him. He hugged you back, taking you into his arms and resting his chin on top of your head... He could get used to that. You were warm and soft as you relaxed your body against his and allowed yourself to be held. You let go of his servo in favor of curling your hands and arms up by his chest. “Thank you for the gifts. They were really sweet and I loved them all, so... I’ll be sure to return the favor.”
“Return the favor? This is more than enough to return the favor!” He grinned, only hugging you tighter. “I’ve always wanted to just, like, hug you like this-”
“You can kiss me, too, if you want,” You offered, which had him pulling back to look down at you, spark lit aflame. 
“Really?” Bumblebee asked, just to be sure.
“Of course.”
There was a moment of silence; hesitance from both ends. It was true that, while both of you had been physically affectionate as friends, you’d never kissed, and Bumblebee had certainly never kissed a human. He’d been waiting for this moment for so long, but he had no idea what to do now that it was actually happening. 
Thankfully, you took the initiative and wrapped your arms over his shoulders, hands on the back of his neck. You looked up at him one more time before standing on your tip-toes so you could gently press your lips against his. Bumblebee was frozen still for a moment as he processed your warm, soft lips against his cool metal plating, but after the tension faded, he found himself resting his servos on your hips and melted into it. 
One kiss turned into many; again, again, and again, you moved your lips against his in a manner so intoxicating that he couldn’t get enough of it.
Eventually, though, you pulled away and smiled up at him, but now that he had gotten to kiss you like that, he couldn’t help but want more. 
“I, uh... I’m not sure the favor has been returned yet,” Bumblebee averted his optics from your eyes, able to feel his spark beating faster. “I might need one more kiss just to be sure-”
You chuckled, cutting him off by leaning up again and sloppily pushing your lips against his- and, with that, he was gone.
234 notes · View notes
nad-zeta · 3 years
Text
Vincent - Better together
Fandom: Ikevamp
Pairings: Vincent x Reader
Genre: Fluffffff
Words: 1100+
Comments: Eeeeep so ill let yall guess who this is for hehe! Eeeek so excited! Whooop Whooop! //dances around ❤❤ ❤😳🥺! 🥺😳❤🌈
.*:・’゚:。.*:゚・’゚゚:。’ .*:・’゚:。.*:゚・’゚゚:。’・゚。.*:・’゚: 。.*:・’゚:。.*:゚・’゚゚:
Oh, how you were truly a sucker for getting roped into all sorts of time-consuming tasks. You were too kind, honestly, and you worked far too hard. Your latest task? To grade the various exams of the learners attending the makeshift school founded by Napoleon and Isaac. To be honest, it wasn’t even your task to start with; it was fostered onto as the result of a bet lost.
Lessons had been learned the hard way, NEVER EVER challenge Arthur to a friendly wager, as you would be so lucky to leave with more than the socks on your feet. Regardless, the task allocated to him was now shifted to you, unfortunate really, but alas, what were you to do.
You sat at your writing desk burning that good ol midnight oil, clock tick ticking away. Naturally, neither Napoleon nor Isaac wanted to grade the students’ papers as that would be too biased—or that was the lame excuse they used—but you knew the truth.
Not that you minded this kind of work, it reminded you of your part-time job back home, the fond memories washing over you of helping out lecturers and students alike.
But this, this was different, this was hell! You must have read the first paper over and over, hells if you could only understand what was written. Chemistry, math, and the theory of relativity. Just how old were these kids, heck you studied these subjects at a university level and still, the words seemed like gibberish?
After the third paper, you were practically banging your head on the table in frustration; the least they could have done was given you a decent memo to follow. Losing all hope and succumbing to the darkness, it appeared as though the universe had heard your silent prayers and sent to you your very own ray of sunshine.
The soft knocks at the door were like a God sent, with Vincent peeking into your room, gentle blue eyes finding your own, ”oh, if you’re busy, I can always come back later,” his soft voice spoke with hints of hopefulness. 'NO NO NO, don’t leave me alone with these papers. I might just go mad', you wanted to shout out in desperation, but instead, you shot a weak smile over in his direction, gesturing for him to come inside.
“Nah, I’m just grading these papers, but if you are not busy, I’d love the company,” you offered, hoping, nay, praying he would stay. It had been a while since the two of you had spent some time together, with him being busy with painting and you, well, we all know Sabastian is a slave driver.
You mentally danced for joy when Vincent indeed did take up residence beside you, curious china blues gazing at the papers sprawled before you. “Need some help?” he offered, picking up one of the papers to examine the contents.
“How much do you know about maths and science?” you prompted
Vincent scratched the back of his neck, blue eyes never once losing their sparkle. ”Nothing! But I’m willing to learn or help out any way I can,” he affirmed cheerfully, tilting his head to the side, trying to decipher the string of numbers and letters.
His sunny features clouded over the longer he looked at the paper, and you could tell he was just as much out of his depth as you were.
Just then, an idea popped into your head, ”oh, I know! How about I mark, and you count them up and write the final score!”
“I can do that!!” he exclaimed happily, clouds dispersing and sunshine illuminating the room once more.
And so you marked and Vincent... drew?
You watched Vincent from the corner of your eyes, counting up the marks and charting them down in a little circle. His brows furrowed in concentration, voice barely above a whisper, letting go of a little sigh, “oh, this won’t do.” Honestly, his hands moved to their own accord sketching out cute little doodles next to the circled score.
You noticed he had been taking a while with each test handed to him, but you assumed he just double/triple checked his counting and final tallying of the scores. Not thinking much of it at the time, it was only after the last test was marked and handed off to him that your eyes dared to drift across the table to see what he was up to.
They widened slightly in surprise as you struggled to suppress the smile tugging at your lips. “Cent? What are you drawing,” came the curious question, after watching him doodle out the smiling sunflower with the words’ Good Job’ neatly written beneath
Vincent’s face bloomed into a bright smile as he proudly held up the newest motivational doodle, “well,” he started to trail off, “you know how some of the students did really badly?”
You nodded, humming thoughtfully as you urged him to continue,” I just thought it would make them sad to see they did so terribly, so I decided a little sketch might cheer them up.”
Oooh, bless his little angel heart, for only Vincent could be so sweet. You smiled back at him, eyes falling to each of the papers to take in the various little motivational sketches and messages left for the students to find. Although soon, your eyes found one test in particular that piqued your interest.
A test in which the student managed to score a near-perfect score, you held up the paper in confusion, “but, what about this one?”
“Ah, well, you see, I thought it would make the students who achieved top scores happy to receive a little sketch in acknowledgement of their hard work,” he continued to beam with pride.
You chuckled, shaking your head, “so what you’re saying is everybody gets a doodle?”
“Jip”
You almost had to laugh; it reminded you so very much of an Oprah show. You get a sketch; you get a sketch; everybody gets a sketch. “You are honestly too cute, Vincent,” you beamed at him, collecting the paper into a neat pile, shaking your head with a chuckle.
Vincent returned your smile with a sunny one of his own, taking your hand in his and squeezing it affectionately. “You are the cute one,” he said in all seriousness, bumping his shoulder against yours playfully.
You rested your head against his shoulder, closing your eyes and simply enjoying the moment. After a few seconds, you peeked your eyes open to gaze up at him, “hey, vincent? Thanks so much for helping.”
With a brush of his soft lips against your forehead, he spoke tenderly, closing his eyes as he reaffirmed his love for you. “I promised you, didn’t I? Whenever there is a problem, I will always be there to help find a solution together.”
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irondadfics · 4 years
Note
I’m looking for fanfics where Peter is Tony’s biological child and he goes missing/gets kidnapped as a young child. He is raised by someone else and doesn’t know he’s Tony’s son. I’ve already read Lost Boy and Things I Almost Remember on archive of our own and I wanted to find stories with a similar plot.
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WHEW! It’s kind of a long list, but we did our best finding several fics that feature both BioDad!Tony and Peter being kidnapped at a very young age. ENJOY!!
PETER IS TONY’S SON BUT THEY WERE SEPARATED WHEN PETER WAS A CHILD REC LIST
Lost Boy by winterda
Isaac Stark disappeared from a crowded park a few months shy of his third birthday. There were never any signs of him, and no arrest were ever made in connection to the case. It was as if the toddler had simply vanished off the face of the earth. Twelve years later, Peter Parker has a really bad day, which only get worse when his prints are put through the system.
Things I Almost Remember by IcedAquarius @icedaquarius31​
Peter's past is not as it appears. It all starts one day with a genetics project and slowly spirals into something Peter never could have imagined.
hydra's not a home by tempestaurora @tempestaurora​
At 6 years old, the son of Tony and Pepper Stark, Peter, is kidnapped, never to be seen again. Or, so they thought. Ten years later, while raiding a HYDRA base, the Avengers come across a new, enhanced individual, working for the enemy: in black spandex, with a tendency to stick to walls and shoot webs from his wrists, the Black Spider is a pain in the ass in more ways than one.
If They Knew All About You by MsHermia
Tony Stark had lost his son when he was only 2 years old, stolen away in broad daylight with nobody the wiser of what exactly happened. Years later, Tony has just made it through the disaster with Ultron. He is trying to keep himself and the team together but relationships are strained and tempers are running high. Then a random turn of events leads to his path crossing with that of a particular vigilante. They are strangers to each other, or so they think.
Peter Parker is on top of the world. After a few shitty years, losing his parents and then losing his Uncle, things are finally looking up. Sure he lives in a crappy little apartment with his Aunt but he might have just found his mission in life.
------
This is an AU story obvious by some of the tags. I'm starting out a few weeks after Age of Ultron took place. Civil War will be a thing. Other than that I'm not too concerned about sticking to every canon detail and storyline.
Finding Their Way Home by ElliahRose
Peter Benjamin-Edward Stark went missing on a Tuesday. For months the entirety of the New York police department, as well as anyone else the Starks could convince to join, searched for the tot. He was only three when he was taken and for four months, two weeks, and four days, Tony Stark and Pepper Stark (nee Potts) worried and fretted over their beloved child.
Peter Benjamin-Edward Stark was murdered on a Friday. A ransom call gone wrong spelt the end of the child’s life. The world grieved as the kidnappers gleefully told the devastated parents they’d find his body in the morning.
They never did.
Twelve years passed and the family was still grieving, and Tony Stark worked tirelessly to find his only child’s killer and gain justice for his son.
Meanwhile Peter Parker was having literally the worst day ever. He just wanted to help make the world a better place, but instead he got stabbed. That's just his luck, isn't it?
missing, presumed dead by hailingstars @hailing-stars
They hadn’t had a funeral for Peter.
There hadn’t been a casket or a service inside a church.
There had been, before Tony decided in his heart that Peter was gone, candlelight vigils and pleas on the media for whoever had taken him to bring him home. Neither of those did any good. Neither of those brought Peter home.
OR
Tony Stark's son gets kidnapped when he's two. Twelve years later he comes back.
I told you to be better (and you became the best) by HaruK
Tony was blessed with a healthy baby boy, and for once in his life, was actually happy. Until everything derailed and he had to send his son away to keep him safe, because those related to the Stark family, one of the worlds biggest and most targeted families in the black market, always end up hurt. With a new name and identity that Tony himself doesn't know, the young baby was wiped off the map, his existence erased, never to be heard of again. . Years later, Anti-hero Iron Man meets a local superhero vigilante and Tony becomes surprisingly close with young Peter Parker.
The Curly-Haired Boy In The Paper by Svn_f1ower @svn-f1ower​
When Tony sees the blurry, grey scale photograph of someone he thought he had lost years ago, he follows the trail to a newspaper company, to a hospital, to an adoption agency, to the police station and finally to May Parker's house.
hold him tight & don’t let go by jessicagoddamnjones @farremoved
Peter Stark went missing when he was four years old.
Eleven years later, he’s found.
Only now he’s Peter Parker by day, Spider-Man by night, and he doesn’t like the idea that his entire life is a lie.
Rise from the Ashes; Just to See You Again by Mintstream @iwritedumbshit​
Tony Stark didn't expect Mary Fitzpatrick, or the news she delivered. He didn't expect that he would become a father, or that he would actually enjoy it. He didn't expect Penny to love him just as fiercely as he did her.
He didn't expect to lose her so soon.
In the wake of the loss of his daughter he tried--tried to do right by her. He became Iron Man, he was an Avenger, he protected his world because he couldn't protect his daughter, but through it all, he hoped to be reunited with his daughter.
He didn't expect to be alive when he was.
AKA the biological daughter kidnapping AU no one asked for. Hope you read, and hope you enjoy.
Updates on Saturdays.
Coming Home by inkinmyheartandonthepage
AU – Peter Stark was kidnapped when he was just three years old. Tony and Pepper never stopped looking for their boy. Years later, Peter finds his way back home.
A Change In What We Knew by Imissyoutoo @imissyoutoo
Tony scoured the floor behind Steve as though his one-year-old son had somehow crawled to him, before finally, he looked up. The realisation dawned on him like an eclipse; the decaying darkness hiding the sun. Hiding his son. Because his boy wasn't there.
”Where is he? Steve? Where's my son Rogers?!” At only a year old, Tony Stark’s son is taken, leaving him shattered. Little does he know, his journey to find what is lost only begins twelve years later. In the most unlikely of places, and all because of two words.
”Hey kid.”
I Found You by honestchick
Tony had a son; he raised him for two years until someone kidnapped him. Tony was devastated and heartbroken. And who would have thought in Starks Expo, he’d be able to see his son once again?
move back home forever by chasingflower @evahmohns
The results say he’s not actually Peter Parker.
They say he’s Peter Stark. You know, the one who’s been missing for 10 years.
Yeah. He knows.
Soon You'll Get Better by lostinmorewaysthan1
Peter Stark was kidnapped. That was all anyone knew. He vanished into thin air, no traces left behind, when he was eight years old.
Six years later, on one of the final raids on the HYDRA bases, they find an enhanced assassin, with super strength and the ability to climb walls. No one imagined that it would be Peter. Least of all Tony.
With no memory and brainwashed by HYDRA, Peter Stark goes home and tries to recover.
Let This Road Be Mine by CommunicationFlail
Ten years ago, five year old Peter Stark disappeared. When the trail went cold, the case was closed. Now new evidence has been brought to light and Tony will stop at nothing to get his son back. No matter how many fakes he has to meet. His son is out there, and he will find him.
Return to me, the one I love so endlessly by SuperHeroTiger @superherotiger
James Edwin Stark was born on the 10th of August 2001, and for the first time in his life, Tony Stark cried tears of joy.
All the fears, all the dread that had once consumed his soul washed away with a single look at the baby’s gentle features, so familiar and yet so distinctly unique at the same time. Tony made many promises that day. Promises to love his son, to protect him, to always be there for him.
On the 10th of August 2002, James Edwin Stark was stolen in the middle of the night, and his father’s world came crashing down. Shattered and alone, Tony whispered the same promise he’d made to his son the day that he was born.
‘…My love for you is endless…’
Fourteen years later, hidden away from the world in a forest of pine, Peter Beck would dream of a day he might get to see the towering city of New York. And when a wounded stranger stumbles onto their property a week out from his birthday claiming to be a famous billionaire from New York, his dream might just come true.
Once Lost Now Found by FreckledAvenger11
Peter Parker was just trying to get used to life without his uncle. He wasn't expecting to find a familiar face in an article about Tony Stark's missing son. Follow Peter on his journey to discover just who he is. Is he Peter Parker? Is he Spider-Man? Or is he someone else entirely? Just who is he and what secrets died along with his parents in that plane crash?
So He Walks The World Alone by Miola014
This is a story 'bout a broken boy With his headphones in just to block out the noise Of everyone around him telling him the way to go So he walks the world alone Wondering if it gets better Or if he's always gonna feel empty forever So he gets lost tryna find another way back home As he walks the world alone
Or
The Kidnapped Peter Stark AU that I promised y'all!
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cracked-pean · 4 years
Text
Lazy Day
Characters: Female!Reader, Stiles Stilinski, Lydia Martin, Allison Argent, Scott McCall (mentioned), Derek Hale (mentioned), Hale Pack (mentioned)
Word Count: 853
Warnings: None, just fluff
A/N: I was getting Stiles vibes and wrote this short thing. Hope you enjoy! 
+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+
[Y/N] had just woken up, it was 11am a bit late for her. The pack was all there awake. They had all decided to spend a week long at the Hale house together just for the fun of it. Derek, Scott and Boyd were out in the woods finishing chopping some wood for the small bonfire they had planned to have out front. Isaac and Erica had both volunteered to get the meat to cook out. Which knowing them, they might return with the whole store with other unnecessary items. Lydia and Allison were both in the kitchen making side dishes such as, potato salad, pasta and an actual salad.
[Y/N] peeked her head in the kitchen and leaned against the countertop. She noticed all three of them were still in their sweats or sleeping clothes with their hair up to stay out of their way. Neither bothering to get dressed for the day. “Ooh, what’s going on here? Who’s birthday is it?”
Allison turns towards her and flashes her a smile, “Good morning to you too. No one’s. Just spontaneously decided to have a cookout, cause why not.”
“Long night? It’s a bit late for you miss ‘Up before the Sun’” Lydia came to join them while wiping her hands on a towel.
“Sort of,” [Y/N] rubs both hands down her face and brushes a few strands away from her face and sets them under her chin. “I had this great idea for a story and I just had to write it out before it got away from me. Next thing I know, it was 2 in the morning.”
The two girls laugh and go back to their cooking. “It must be one hell of a story. You finish it? Can we read it?” Lydia asked.
“We’ll see.” [Y/N] makes her way around the counter and heads towards the sink to wash her hands. “So what’s the deal here. Where do you need me?”
Both Allison and Lydia share a look before glancing at their friend. Allison decides to take this one and slowly guides her away from the sink. “Actually, we got it handled here. There’s not much to do so you can relax with Stiles in the living room.”
[Y/N] looks at them and hesitantly accepts. “Oh, uh yeah. Sure, no problem. Just call if you need any help.” She receives a nod and a smile from them and heads out. She goes to the pantry nearby and grabs a few snacks. Since the kitchen is occupied at the moment, there won’t be any room to make herself something to eat till later.
Entering the living area, [Y/N] spots Stiles lying along the couch on his phone. His head leaned on one of the arms of the sofa and his sock feet crossed at his ankles. That is gonna hurt his neck later. She came in from behind the couch and eyed the situation. “Yeah, I can do it,” she thought. She brought a leg over the couch after the other and slid herself in between Stiles’ arms making her positioned between the couch and the boy.
"Woah, hey," he exclaimed, surprised by her appearance. He jostled around to make room for the both of them and settled in more comfortably. [Y/N] hands him the poptart and opens her fiber bar.
“Hi,” she greets him sheepishly.
"Hi to you too. So, we just gonna eat on the couch," he questions, setting his phone on his stomach to open the sugary treat. She nods in response.
“They kicked you out the kitchen, huh?” Stiles asks with a teasing smile.
“The stove catches fire one time and you’re banned for who knows how long,” she grumbles and takes a bite out of her snack.
Stiles laughs and offers her to trade a piece of their food. “[Y/N], the flames reached the ceiling. You’re lucky that only your eyebrows were singed off.”
“Hey, at least the beans were fully cooked, and in less than a minute. That’s talent right there buddy.”
“That’s a safety hazard.”
“Potato, Potahtoh,” she waved him off. “Why are you out here? You actually know how to cook, shouldn’t you be helping them or something?” [Y/N] pointed out.
Stiles picked off broken pieces of poptart off his chest and popped them in his mouth, “Yeah, but they told me to keep you company so we wouldn’t have a repeat of last time.”
[Y/N] pouts. Sure, she can’t be near open flames in the kitchen, but she could still help. She could cut up foods, or mix things. Make drinks. Something. But ok, she’ll stay out of their way.
Stiles noticed her pout and laughed lightly. He brings her head to his lips and rubs her shoulder.
"Don’t worry. I’m sure they’ll let you make your own s’mores later tonight. It’s actually recommended for the marshmallow to catch fire,” he teases. “You don't want actual food?" He asks referring to their food choices.
She shakes her head, "Not right now, kitchen is occupied. Maybe later."
He nods. “Let’s nap. I’m sure they’ll wake us if they need us.”
“Stiles, they’ll wake You, not me.” Stiles just smiles in response.
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everybodyscupoftea · 4 years
Text
won’t hold back
college isaac x reader
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i’m back besties with the immediate follow up of born to run!
(warnings: cursing, light editing)
He finished his run first, of course he did, and by the time you got back to your car, huffing and puffing, a text was waiting on your phone. You pulled it out, hands shaking a bit and your face split into a smile as you read it.
I’m in parking lot west, meet me there?
Climbing into your car, you cranked it up, turning the heat up as high as you could stand, breaking out into a slight sweat despite still being cold as your thumbs hovered over the keyboard.
I’m in east, just got finished so I’ll drive over
You backed out, heart pounding, and drove the few minutes to the adjacent parking lot. He was leaning against his car and waved at you when you turned in, not that he needed to because he was the only car in the lot. Parking next to him, you took one last deep breath and grabbed your hoodie off the back seat.
“Hey,” he murmured with a smile when you climbed out.
Waving shyly, you responded, “Hey.”
“Hungry?”
You nodded eagerly, “Starving.”
Isaac grinned, “I know a place if you trust me enough.”
Thinking back to the coffee shop he picked when you were first getting to know each other, you nodded, “Yeah, absolutely.”
After a pause and a speculative glance, he jogged around the car and opened his passenger door for you to climb in. When you hesitated, his eyebrows furrowed and he started to look uncertain, which you definitely didn’t want, he spoke, slowly, “Or did you want to follow me there?”
“No,” you reassured quickly, sliding in without any further concerns, “sorry, I was just caught off guard for a second.”
Isaac didn’t respond, shutting the door softly for you before heading back over to the drivers side, finally answering when he buckled in and cranked it up, “Why caught off guard?”
“Well,” you paused, unsure how much you wanted to admit. But then you heard your sister’s voice in your head go get your man and decided on complete honesty, “I was going to ask you out today, but I wasn’t really expecting you to say yes.”
He blinked a few times, hand freezing on the gear shift, “Why the hell wouldn’t I say yes?”
Ears heating up, you shrugged, “I don’t know, it just seemed like you were out of my league. You didn’t text me.”
“You didn’t text me!” he countered. Which you supposed was fair, but you’d been nervous. He was so attractive and outgoing and unattainable. He was so clever and good with words and you were just. Good at math.
“That’s fair,” you answered, “but I thought you might would have other, better options.”
“Well, you’re wrong, just ask my roommates.”
It was oddly reassuring, that his roommates had been putting up with the same thing your sister apparently had, and you couldn’t stop the wide smile crossing your face. Heart stuttering again, your palms got clammy as he pulled out of the parking lot finally, heading down the road toward the downtown area. 
Isaac parked outside a brunch place you’d passed a few times before but he’d gotten to check out yet, so you were excited. When he turned the car off, you waited for him to open the door for you again after catching his attempted discrete look in your direction.
“M’lady,” he spoke, pulling the door open and bowing slightly.
Giggling, you took his outstretched hand and stepped out, responding with an exaggerated accent, “Thank you, sir.”
“Anytime.”
He kept your hand, not that you wanted to let go, but your heart kicked up again, and you hoped that he couldn’t feel the sweat on your palm. If he did, he thankfully didn’t mention it, just swung your hands between the two of you, humming, as he led both you toward the door.
The brunch place was pretty busy, and the hostess smiled at the two of you, “Good morning, table for two?”
“Yep,” Isaac responded cheerfully.
“Inside or out?”
He looked at you, content to let you answer, and you shrugged, “Doesn’t matter to me,” you turned to the hostess, “do you have a suggestion?”
“It’s more private outside, and we have heaters.”
“Outside,” Isaac confirmed without further pause.
She raised her eyebrows, lips twitching a bit at his hasty answer, and she marked something down, before speaking again, “Follow me.”
“Private, huh?” you teased when she was gone, menus spread out in front of each of you.
He shrugged, grinning, “Yeah, I want to get to know you well, not just eat together.”
And you didn’t really have anything to say to that, throat tightening at his honest words. It was quiet at first, both of you focused on picking something to eat and ordering before he finally took a sip of the tea he ordered, clutching the cup with both hands. Isaac leaned forward, foot nudging yours under the table, and you spoke up, “So, how are your classes this semester?”
He grinned, “You really want to talk about school right now?”
“No,” you admitted, smiling sheepishly, “but I thought it could be a good ice breaker.”
“Okay, I’ll humor you. They’re good, but I miss studying with you.”
Your jaw dropped slightly, and you played with a string on the sleeve of your hoodie, “I miss studying with you too.”
“Have you been back to the coffee shop?” he asked.
Shaking your head, you reluctantly answered, “No, it felt like your space and I didn’t want to invade it.”
“I’ve been looking for you there,” he admitted, “I thought you liked it and might come back.”
 “I did,” you shrugged, “like it, at least. But the library and engineering building have become my home as of late.”
“Do you like the quiet?”
“Something like that. Less things for me to look at.”
Isaac hummed, “I get that. I like coffee shops because I feel like people are watching me and if I’m not productive, they’ll judge me.”
You snorted, “Well, that’s a way to pressure yourself into it, I suppose.”
“Yeah,” he nudged your foot with his again, “I normally like to be alone, but I wouldn’t mind some company every so often. If you can drag yourself out of your academic buildings to hang out with me sometimes.”
“No one I’d rather drag myself out of academic buildings for,” you teased.
Even though your tone was teasing, you were serious, and his smile confirmed that he realized that. You really liked that he picked up on your underlying meanings, it was something that lacked in your last relationship. That boyfriend needed things explicitly stated, which was fine, but a lot of your jokes were taken the wrong way or went over his head, and it caused a few fights.
Isaac took another sip of tea and leaned back in his chair, “So, tell me about yourself.”
“What do you want to know?”
He shrugged, eyes not leaving your face once, and you almost wanted to balk at the steady attention, “You decide.”
“Well, I’m not that interesting,” you started, only pausing when he made a noise in protest.
“I assure you,” he interrupted, “I’ll be interested in whatever you have to say.”
Squeezing your eyes shut for a second, pushing back against the sappy look desperately fighting to show on your face, you answered, “Okay, um, I’m from New York, but not any of the cities, more in the countryside. I have one sister and she’s pretty much my best friend.”
Isaac nodded, “Older?”
“Younger.”
“I had a brother, older,” Isaac told you, “but he died overseas.”
Your eyebrows furrowed, “I’m so sorry, Isaac.”
He smiled sadly, “Thank you. We weren’t really close, but it was still tough. Especially for my dad.”
“Are you close?”
Isaac snorted, “No, not even a little bit.”
It didn’t seem like he wanted to elaborate, so you decided to change the subject, “What about friends?”
His smile was small but pleased, “Stiles and Scott are my two closest. I grew up with them and they came here too.”
“Oh, that’s great,” you responded enthusiastically, “they sound like good friends.”
“They are most of the time. But sometimes they bully me. Like when I kept going on early morning runs to see this girl I liked instead of just texting her.”
You snorted, “Sounds like my sister.”
“I’m sure they’d get along then.”
“Sounds like,” you agreed, “we should never introduce them.”
“Amen,” he answered just as the waiter came over with your food. The rest of the meal was lighter, more focused on small talk than any heavy topics. You learned about his interest in drama and hatred of poetry. 
He ranted about the true villain in Hamlet for a solid five minutes, using his hands excitedly, emphasizing certain points by pointing his fork, and you were enthralled. Sure, you didn’t particularly care about Hamlet versus his stepdad, but by the end of his speech, you were more intrigued than before.
“I’ve never really understood poetry,” you admitted.
He nodded enthusiastically, “It’s so subjective. English teachers often teach it wrong. I want to change that. I want to help science brains like yours not hate English as much.”
“A very noble cause,” you joked, “but perhaps more difficult than you may think.”
“I don’t think so,” he mused, “because when we started eating, you didn’t know anything about Hamlet but now you have an opinion.”
You nodded, “That’s true, I suppose. Anyone who claims Hamlet is the true villain is incorrect.”
Isaac grinned, “Fuck yes.”
And then it was your turn to rant about physics and how the professors on campus made it ten times worse than it should’ve been. Isaac asked about some of the topics physics entailed, and to his credit, he seemed interested despite the boring subject.
“It could just be so much more pleasant, but the professors are so old and refuse to adapt.”
“A problem in English too sometimes,” he agreed, “but I’m hoping once I get to higher level courses, things will get more interesting.”
By the time he’d paid and the plates had cleared away, there were a few other tables of people around the two of you, and you knew it was about time to leave. You really didn’t want to, and it looked like he felt the same way.
“Ready?” you finally asked.
“I guess so.”
The walk to the car was quiet, and he didn’t hold your hand again, but your knuckles brushed his every so often. When you looked over, his ears were red and he was pointedly staring straight ahead. You reveled in the fact that a guy like him actually seemed flustered by your presence.
He dropped you off at your car and grabbed your wrist before you could get out, “Can we do this again sometime?”
You smiled at the slight shake in his voice, “Yeah, I’d love that.”
“Cool,” he beamed, “I’ll see you around?”
“Yeah. Text me sometime?” you asked, teasing him a bit even though both of you were guilty of not texting.
His lips twitched, “Or I’ll just see you in the morning.”
“Yeah, I guess you will.”
Suddenly, morning runs didn’t seem all that daunting.
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yakocchi · 4 years
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My Darling’s the Strongest (Scenario Event) // Leonardo
(graphic is separate from the event)
me: wow i wonder what cool and amazing new content there will be for white day week cybird: we heard from no one that u like reprints that only have new ranking avatars. so heres another reprint that only has new ranking avatars me:
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…….cybird it’s ok to not make every event have ranking cards. yea i know they make gangbusters versus events without cards, but if it results in less new scenario events overall… that’s not great
anyway, it’s been like 4 months since a new Count scenario event has been released (which is a better track record than several charas) and i wanted to do a longer string of text to test out a keyboard i ordered. yea im very fickle with my output but ehehe what’s new i archive leo events sometimes, so i decided to dredge one up to translate. i actually wanted to do vlad’s first post-main-route event as a sort of celebration for when it would inevitably happen, but then said scenario event appeared and it ended up being an AU. why does this game like AUs so much? the canon universe already pretty farfetched… u literally have dracula and ure telling me u would rather put him in a situation where he would not be dracula. cowards
This event (first released ~July 2020) was made for the 3rd Anniversary of JP Ikevam later that month. The event was split into two parts, where iirc the first part contained the Count, Arthur, and Mozart. Leo was in the second part with Napo and Isaac.
Spoilers under the cut!! Please credit if you take any of it, thenk u (・ω・*) image-heavy!!
The master of the manse, from time to time, starts his conversations with the most unexpected topics. One of those ���times”, was today.
...
[Count]: “—So, I’d like the two of you to go out for the Best Couples’ Contest.” [Leonardo & Kara]: “Huh…?” As soon as we had excused ourselves into his quarters, the Count had said something completely unexpected. Leonardo and I had responded with a confused noise spilling out of our lips. (The “Best Couples’ Contest” is that event where they pick the best couple in Paris, right?) (I wonder why he suddenly decided to say he wants us to go.) Even as the two of us stood bewildered in front of him, the Count’s smile remained, untarnished. Leonardo then heaved a massive sigh…
[Leonardo]: “Now, I’m used to you telling me crazy things—" [Leonardo]: “But at the very least, could you give us the entire story, O’ great Count?” The Count began to speak once more—
[Count]: “Well—” [Count]: “Last night, I had visited an acquaintance upon them telling me that they had gotten their hands on some good wine.” [Count]: “At one point, they informed me that they were going to hold a contest to determine the best couple.” [Count]: “Then, they asked me if I was acquainted with any prospective couples for it.” Leonardo then took over from Count as if he had read this story before.
[Leonardo]: “Then, in your drunken state you selfishly entered me and the little sweetheart to the contest, did you?” (And that means… the Count thinks me and Leonardo would have a chance?)
The Count responded to Leonardo’s summation of the events with apparent amusement. [Count]: “I do believe I wasn’t drunk at the time, I’ll have you know?” [Leonardo]: “That’s even worse, then.”
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[Count]: “Oh my, Leonardo. Is it really all right for you to say that?” [Leonardo]: “Hah?” [Kara]: “gh-…” The Count had turned in my direction— and so Leonardo, as if in pursuit of the gentleman, then turned to face me as well. Their gazes seemed to urge me to confess my true feelings on the matter, and I earnestly comply.
[Kara]: “Ah-, I… I just thought it sounded fun.” [Kara]: “And on top of that, I’d be really happy if everyone acknowledged me and Leonardo as the best couple.” (Even though I’d be nervous to stand in front of so many people,) (I’d be able to boast that such a wonderful person is my lover…) (And I also think it’d be a good opportunity to see if I’m able to become a suitable woman for Leonardo.)
[Leonardo]: “…” A surprised expression appeared on Leonardo’s face for a moment, before it was replaced with a smile…
[Leonardo]: “Shall we partake?” [Kara]: “Huh? Is it okay?” I had blurted out my question, and Leonardo gently patted my head. [Leonardo]: “This situation’s turned into nothing but a good opportunity, so we might as well have some fun and aim to win this thing, yeah?” [Kara]: “gh- Okay…!” Glad that Leonardo was also interested, my voice naturally gained a bounce to it.
[Kara]: “But, I wonder how they’re going to determine the best couple?” Muttering this, the Count then handed me the invitation, which had a general outline of the event written inside. Promptly opening it, written was—
(The contest is to be a few days from now, and I can look forward to what we’ll be tested on… on the day itself?) The portion I wanted to know about most of all hadn’t been written, and I internally slumped my shoulders.   The invitation concluded with a single line— “The key to victory is to have a mind and soul of love towards one another,” (I guess the ‘mind and soul of love’ is supposed to be a hint, but…) [Kara]: “Hmm… With just this, I don’t know what the contest could be about, at all.” [Leonardo]: “Don’t sweat it, sweetheart.” (Huh?) Leonardo brought his face up close to the Count… And as if he had devised a scheme, a mischievous smile had turned the corners of his lips. [Leonardo]: “You’re close with the contest organizer, right? I’m led to believe that they have some sort of hint on ‘em.” [Count]: “Leonardo…?” [Leonardo]: “We may have willingly chose to participate in the contest— but it doesn’t change the reality that it was our lovely Count who dragged us into this in the first place.” [Leonardo]: “So, naturally, you’re gonna cooperate with us, no?”
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As a result of forcing the Count (against his will) to spill the details, we were able to make a guess on what we’d be doing in the contest. But…
most everyone else in this event: (thinking hard on what to do bc they dont kno what the contest is going to cover) leo: fuc it CHEAT
[Leonardo]: “…” (…Leonardo has an awfully complicated look on his face right now.) In my mind, I think over our discussion from a moment ago:
The organizer of the couples’ contest appears to have hosted several dance contests as well. To put it plainly, the organizer is both a huge socialite and a huge fan of dances. (So, individuals are called from high society circles to be chosen as the “best couple”, and) (The probability of competing based on our dancing… is high.)
[Leonardo]: “Hagh…” [Kara]: “…Hehe.” Seeing Leonardo’s pouting face, I unwittingly laughed. Then— [Leonardo]: “What are you laughing for, sweetheart?”
[Kara]: “I just remembered something from back before we became lovers.” The conversation of that day, the day where a weakness of his had been exposed, replayed in my head—
[Leonardo]: “…I can’t dance.” (Huh…?) [Kara]: “You’ve got to be kidding, right…? You can build and play instruments, and yet…” [Kara]: “Is it because you don’t go to many socialite parties to begin with, so you haven’t had many opportunities to dance….?” [Leonardo]: “No, I’ve participated in ‘em the point where I’ve even had a hand in producing those sorts of dazzling venues.” [Kara]: “’Producing’…” (This person really can do anything and everything. No, no, that’s not true…) [Kara]: “Leonardo, the mystery that surrounds you is only getting deeper and deeper.”
[Leonardo]: “I avoided having to do it.” [Kara]: “…’Avoid’?” [Leonardo]: “…Try to imagine it. Me, dancing?” [Leonardo]: “It doesn’t suit me, I don’t have the look required for it…” (…What… is this?)
[Kara]: “…Hehe, ahaha!” [Leonardo]: “…Hey, sweetheart. What are you laughing for?
(He said the same thing back then.) Unable to hold it in, I continued to giggle… [Leonardo]: “Don’t laugh.” [Kara]: “I think you’re the one smiling here, though?” [Leonardo]: “…I’m just feeling terribly nostalgic right now.” Answering me, his eyes held a gentle light within them as if cherishing those days, [Kara]: “You still hate dancing, I assume?” [Leonardo]: “Even to this day, I find it embarrassing to do. Radiant, cheerful stuff doesn’t mesh with me. But—" (Huh?)
The second I wondered if Leonardo was going to start something, he suddenly pulled my waist towards him for an embrace… [Kara]: “Woah, woah-…!” Regaining my senses— Led by Leonardo himself, I properly danced. [Leonardo]: “I’m able to dance like the average person now— and it’s all because you came to keep me company.” While I was still surprised, Leonardo dropped a light kiss on my forehead. [Kara]: “Nn-…” Flustered, I looked up to find a completely composed smile on his face… [Kara]: “…ngh-“ An impulse overwhelming me, I lean my head against his chest.
[Kara]: “…Sly as usual.” [Leonardo]: “Hm?” [Kara]: “Even though I thought I had finally found a weakness of yours, you’ll get over that hurdle too pretty soon.” [Kara]: “When you do things like that, you become sly so smoothly, exquisitely.”
(When he shows this side of him… I get driven to work even harder than before so I can catch up to him.) While even feeling a frustration from it, I turned my gaze back to Leonardo.
[Kara]: “It seems like this world is going to become one where there’s absolutely nothing you can’t do.”
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[Leonardo]: “…Maybe?” (…Hm?) For a second it felt as if he were pondering over something, a particular emotion washing over his face.
But before I could say anything, I was swiftly embraced, and that thought of mine scattered, and vanished. [Kara]: “l- Leonardo?” [Leonardo]: “Hey, look there, sweetheart.” (Huh?)
Following Leonardo’s gaze— I could see the dusk dying the sky from a distance away. (Pretty…) The view that he showed me, was beautiful.   But, at the same time… my chest was tightened by this sorrow. (Although the scene before our eyes is the same between us, time passes differently between us…) (During moments like this, I feel that difference.) (However— When we became lovers, I had decided that no matter how different we are, I’m going to embrace the present, make the most out of it.) (I’m going to savor even the passing seconds, cherish them… as we live together, as two.)
As if to confirm he was really there, I embraced his warmth in return… [Kara]: “Leonardo, I’m looking forward to the contest.” [Leonardo]: “Mhm.” In the vivid sunset, we smiled to each other.
—Time passed, and the night of the contest arrived at last.
(W-Wow…) When we had entered the venue in our formalwear, there were several couples eagerly waiting for the contest to start. (All of the people here have to be participants for the contest, huh. …Somehow, my heart’s pounding.) I took a deep breath to calm myself down, and when I did that— Leonardo, as if to soothe my heart, lightly stroked my hair. [Leonardo]: “Why is it necessary for you to feel all anxious?” [Kara]: “Leonardo?” [Leonardo]: “To the point where there’s just no way we can lose to any couple here— I love you, you know.”
[Leonardo]: “—Well, and you?” Inquiring me, his smile was brimming with self-confidence… And caught up in his mood, I smiled cheerfully.
[Kara]: “I love you too— to the point where it’s impossible for us lose to anyone…!”
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[Leonardo]: “Heh… Very nice, then.” [Judge]: “—And so, the contest shall begin now. The means of competition is to be by dance.” (Ah-…!) We look to each other, and Leonardo, extending his hand towards me, says, [Leonardo]: “Kara… You’ll do me the honor of a dance, no…?”
PREMIUM END
[Kara]: “Yes, I’d be delighted!” (Even though I was so nervous about this until now… Now, I can’t help but just be excited about it.) (I want everyone to quickly feast their eyes on our dancing, and our bond!) Taking his hand, I nestled close to him as an elegant melody began to echo within the dance hall. To become a flower that offsets the man before me, I step forward—
—When the contest had ended without a hitch, the both of us walked along the moonlit Seine as we made our way home. The chilly breeze felt pleasant on my heated skin. [Kara]: “We really were able to win!” (I was able to prove my bond with Leonardo to all of Paris… I’m so happy that I can’t stop a smile from showing on my face.) [Leonardo]: “I did say we wouldn’t lose to anyone, didn’t I?” [Leonardo]: “But, well, to think… the winning prize was a year’s supply of wine of all things. ‘Guess sensuality and allure are as good as goddamn useless to them.”
he’s trying to say that he doesn’t like the prize cuz it isn’t very sensual/sexy (suppose he imagined a prize for a lovers’ contest would be more along those lines). even Arthur in the epilogue is like “…thought the prize for a best couples’ contest would be more special”….
[Kara]: Hehe, it’s a nice prize, isn’t it? Let’s drink it with everyone else in the manse.” [Leonardo]: “If you’re satisfied with it, that’s good, I suppose.” As he spoke, Leonardo looked to be the same as usual, but his eyes reflected some kind of joy from within. (I’m glad that this will become a lovely memory I’ll have about him.) (…But, even then) The very sight of Leonardo of when I had danced with him in the dance hall, wouldn’t leave my head. [Kara]: “Your dancing was really, really stunning.” [Kara]: “As I had always thought… you’re the strongest one around.” [Leonardo]: “What’s all this about, hmm?”
i probably should’ve bothered explaining it last year since i used the title “My Darling’s the Strongest” for the other translation but uh might as well do it now that it’s explicitly used in the story so by “strongest”, it doesn’t necessarily mean physical strength (though it can be). It’s “strongest” as in a form of “mightiest” or “most powerful”, kind of like when someone says “my baseball team is the strongest in the league”,
[Kara]: “I just think that you’re the mightiest lover as there’s nothing you can’t do.” Carried away by the thrill of victory, I professed my thoughts. In doing so Leonardo’s brows lowered, and a bit of a troubled smile graced his lips. [Leonardo]: “If I’m able to put some effort into it, then I guess there’s really nothing I can’t do. But…”
[Leonardo]: “There is something I simply cannot do, no matter how hard I try.” (Huh…?) [Kara]: “Something you can’t do… I can’t imagine such a thing existing.” He was undoubtedly an almighty genius, and was also the type of person willing to confront even his awkward dancing skills head-on.
At my murmurs, Leonardo continued as if the topic was no big deal.
[Leonardo]: “It exists.” [Leonardo]: “I cannot become an ordinary human.”
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(gh-…) His words had vanished into the night breeze.
I inadvertently stopped in my tracks, and he stopped as well… and the both of us stood still in that one corner.
In my current view, the moonlight illuminated his figure as he stood before me. [Leonardo]: “As a pureblood vampire,” [Leonardo]: “I give you much loneliness— A loneliness that, if I were an ordinary human, you would never have to experience.” [Leonardo]: “However, if I went and lamented over every single little detail of that truth, I would be rendered unable to be with you. —Thus from the very beginning, I do not intend to lament either.” [Leonardo]: “I’m going to use as much of my power as I possibly can to grant your wishes, and that’s all.” (Using his power, my wishes…) I recalled the exchange we had a few days ago:
[Kara]: “Ah-, I… I just thought it sounded fun.” [Kara]: “And on top of that, I’d be really happy if everyone acknowledged me and Leonardo as the best couple.” [Leonardo]: “…”
[Kara]: “Did… you say that we should go and try to win the contest… merely because I…” With a smile, Leonardo proceeded to stare intently at me. [Leonardo]: “Well, there’s that, but additionally… I had the same motive as you had.” [Leonardo]: “I also had wanted the both of us to be acknowledged as the best couple.” [Leonardo]: “I wanted news to spread that I had been able to become the man of such a wonderful woman, you know.”   (gh- Leonardo…) Leonardo, whenever and wherever, envelops me in his great, unparalleled affection. Roused by the surging love within me, I went to grip his hand.
[Kara]: “…Leonardo, I want to be by your side tonight, and all night.” (I want to give him, in return for the love I received from him… those same feelings, that same love.) (I want him… to feel my love as well.)
[Leonardo]: “…” [Kara]: “gh- Ah-!” I was suddenly yanked towards him; and almost stumbling over my feet, it had closed the distance between us. Bringing his lips to my ear, he whispered:
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[Leonardo]: “What a coincidence. I was just thinking the same thing.”
—As soon as we entered his room, we melded, deeply kissing each other. [Leonardo]: “…Hah-, Kara…” He called my name with a wet, heady timbre between kisses, the sensuality of it making me go lightheaded. Crowded atop the bed, he pried my lips open with his finger… [Leonardo]: “Thinking about it, I haven’t received a reward from you yet.” [Kara]: “’Reward’…?” [Leonardo]: “When I’m feeling, touching you like this… I know that you’re not so dumb to be oblivious to what I want?” [Kara]: “ngh-…” Taking a guess on what he desired from me, I slowly brought my face closer to his.
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[Leonardo]: “Good girl. Come on— Try to turn me on with a kiss?”
FIN
yes the event really stops here before the epilogue teaser. cybird when a sexi scene is about to start:
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since this was a glorified keyboard test, this is mostly a one-off… so don’t expect leo translations from me otherwise ahah
u know, it’s always weird to me that leo’s stuff is always very sorrowful bc of the vast diff in lifespan, humans vs. vampires thing. like, does he not plan to turn her into a vampire? the wedding stuff makes it sound like they’d like to be together forever but they still don’t really like to broach the topic itself……… kinda sus given that the Count’s stuff gets several mentions of biting in events and vlad clearly doesn’t mind biting whenever (and is just waiting for her to give him the go-ahead). ive seen some ppl talk about how maybe leo likes her because she’s human (both as in being a literal human and the figurative idea of being “human”) and honestly……… it is kinda messed up to think about, but i can see it LOL now im not saying the other pureblood x mc relationships are super healthy but that’s a convo for another time
well at least these guys don’t have to ask someone for vampire-turning assistance. im imagining one of the other charas having to ask the Count to bite mc akin to how teenagers have to ask their parents to drive them and their friends around to do stuff…….. who wants to relive that nightmare
also sorry if like leo’s voice doesn’t match up with w/e the official engl localization does. ive literally never played an engl cybird game in my life, so it’s a crime of ignorance i swear. tho imo if they’re not making him sound like a rascal… that’s very lame, im not gonna lie
the epilogue is obviously not available for purchase rn, but please buy it and/or support the game with purchases when you can!!
As always, thanks for reading!
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bubbyleh · 4 years
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Do I Know You? - Chapter 8
read this chapter on ao3! check out the rest of this series on tumblr!
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Chapter 8: You’ll Be Fine A little comfort
(minor warning. bubby has a flashback to the tube)
- ○ -
Now, Kleiner knows a lot about abnormal things. They are, afterall, his job. Anomalous Materials is an… interesting place to land, but it at least gives him some perspective on how weird the world can be. The far end of what’s possible.
And Bubby showing up at his door at 1 AM, with a blanket wrapped around their shoulders? It’s definitely teetering on that end.
“Bubby?” Kleiner asks. The trams stopped running about three hours ago, how did they even get here?
“Hey, I-” Bubby swallows, nervously fidgeting with the edge of the blanket. “Harold’s not home, so. Uh.”
Right, Coomer got selected to go to a conference this week. It’s gonna be a few days before he gets back, at least. And Bubby is… scared.
“Oh, well,” Kleiner glances at his TV. “I have some movies, if you want to watch something?”
Bubby’s shoulders visibly relax, and they smile. “Sure. That’s good.”
- ○ -
And so, an hour and a half later, Kleiner finds himself sitting on his couch with Bubby passed out on his shoulder, softly snoring. Their blanket is draped over them, gently rising and falling with each breath. The TV has long since been muted, but the light is still flashing across them. Everything is calm and still, except for one thing.
Kleiner is worried.
The only way Bubby could have gotten here, so late, was if he walked. Which, while not impossible, is still quite a feat to do. Especially since he was asleep not long after, it was clear that something was keeping them awake.
He lost his little sibling for years. He can only imagine the life they lived in that time.
Bubby shifts his head slightly, groaning as his eyes wrench themselves tightly shut. Kleiner frowns.
A terrible thing happened to them both. He can only try to make it better.
Almost instinctively, Kleiner reaches over and brushes his pointer finger against Bubby’s right cheek. Bubby sighs, and just like that, the nightmare is banished. They adjust their head one last time, before settling into their peaceful sleep.
Looks like his old tricks still work.
- ○ -
Bubby winces as they wake up in the morning, both from the embarrassment of having run to their brother the second they got scared at night and the fact that they slept on a shitty couch and their body hurts. Kleiner passes by as they sit up, the springs creaking under them, and offers a few friendly head pats.
“Good morning,” he grins as he sits on the other end of the couch. “You slept for a while.”
“Oh.” Bubby slumps a little. “What time is it?”
“A little past noon,” Kleiner states.
Bubby groans. “At least it’s Saturday.”
“Are you hungry?” he asks. “I didn’t want to make too much noise in the kitchen, in case you needed sleep. But I have some food here if you’re interested?”
Unfortunately, Black Mesa’s singles dorms leave much to be desired when it comes to food preparation. Kleiner’s dorm has a meager stove that takes forever to heat up, but eventually they’re able to scrape together enough cooked eggs for Bubby’s breakfast and Isaac’s lunch.
It’s a nice and quiet meal. Bubby’s almost relieved not to have to shepherd Coomer out of the kitchen whenever he tries to eat the whole container of raw eggs. Almost.
Fuck, fuck! It’s alright! It isn’t even going to be that big of a deal when it’s over and done with. Harold’s going to be back by the end of the day on Monday, and Bubby’s going to be able to see and spend time with him again, and they won’t worry about him being gone anymore. Have they seriously not spent a night apart since they moved in with each other? G*d, that’s pathetic.
He can handle himself until Monday! Just gotta finish these eggs, get out of Kleiner’s hair, head back to the… empty… dorm…
Bubby’s stomach twists and turns itself into knots. Maybe he got a little too used to company. Maybe…
Maybe he just never liked being alone.
“Hey, uh.” Bubby sets their fork to the side for a second. “What are you doing today?”
Kleiner startles at the abrupt conversation, but he smiles. “Well, not much, actually. I might need to do a bit of shopping.” He pauses, glancing at Bubby. “But it can wait if you want to do something.”
“Yes!” Bubby blurts out excitedly, but they quickly regain their composure. “Uh, yeah. I would like that.”
Kleiner chuckles at him.
- ○ -
Selfish.
Needy.
Clingy.
They’re not sure where it’s all coming from. There have been afternoons where Bubby doesn’t see Harold for hours, so it probably has something to do with the overnight aspect. Sure, they’d never gotten the best sleep when they lived on their own, but it’s not like they had an issue with-
There’s pure oxygen being fed into his lungs but he feels like he’s choking there’s a dull ache that is both unnatural and familiar in their back the wires in spine keeps them suspended his limbs feel like lead and they want to sleep so bad so very bad but they just can’t drift off please let them sleep tonight please please
Yikes.
Bubby has to shake that memory from their mind.
Okay, so maybe they had problems with sleeping in the past. But that practically stopped the first time they shared a bed with Coomer.
Squished onto his twin mattress in his shitty old dorm, Bubby was awake for hours after Coomer fell asleep. He snored a bit, but honestly, Bubby didn’t mind. The novelty of having another person by their side was good.
Too good.
That’s why they were awake. They were waiting for something. The other shoe had to drop, because it just didn’t make any sense. After all these years, he was just allowed to do whatever he wanted now? No, the folks at Biological Research would break down his door and reprimand him for “fraternization”. For getting too close. For not knowing their place.
In his sleep, Coomer shifted ever so slightly. His arm, which had been laying outstretched previously, curled in, resting his hand on Bubby’s back. Holding him.
Bubby tensed, their breath hitching. And then, as though they had nothing to worry about at all, they rested their hand on Coomer’s chest, curled into his side, and closed their eyes.
They let their guard down, but they hadn’t exactly abandoned the fear that put it up in the first place.
Bubby realizes this as they pace their bedroom. They’d spent the whole day with Kleiner, even managing to rope him into staying the night on the couch. Which is a little mean to poor Isaac’s bones, considering he’s the older of the two of them.
The thing is, he’s going to start asking questions, and Bubby’s not sure how he’ll answer them.
Harold had mentioned to him one night, about a month ago, that he should tell Isaac about the experiments. The pyrotechnics, the intellect, the trials. Come clean about what happened and how it affected them.
And Bubby had responded with, “Ha! No.”
Which looped back to selfishness. It’s not that he couldn’t talk to Kleiner about it. Hell, he still had the file stashed away somewhere. The only thing he’d have to do was hand it over.
It’s that he didn’t want to.
Bubby shivered, and a glance at the thermostat told him that the heat was on. Damn these underground dorms, even the best ones ran cold.
Oh! He should grab an extra blanket for Isaac! That would be a good start to showing they could be a kind, courteous person who didn’t usually take over someone else’s entire weekend. They even pick out one of the better blankets for him, just to be nice.
Bubby takes a deep breath before pushing open the door.
He’s immediately greeted by the sight of Kleiner startling, frantically hiding something behind his back. He sits up straight.
“Bubby!” Isaac shouts. “It’s, er. Late, isn’t it? What are you doing awake?”
Bubby blinks, eyes flicking towards where Kleiner’s hands disappear behind his back.
“I was getting you another blanket.” Bubby states. “Are you… doing something?”
“No! I-” he swallows. “Are you feeling better? I know today was difficult for you.”
Bubby’s jaw tightens.
Alright.
“Actually, yeah,” Bubby admits, slowly moving to sit down next to their brother. “I’ve been thinking about things.”
“What kind of things?”
“Well,” Bubby says. “I wanted to thank you. Because you put everything you had aside to help me today, and I… I needed someone to do that.”
Kleiner offers a genuine smile, patting their shoulder.
“So, thanks, Isaac.” Bubby holds his arms out, offering a hug.
And like a sucker, Isaac takes it.
For a few seconds, Bubby allows themself the joy and happiness of hugging their older brother. Then, they spot the papers he hid behind his back, and he snatches them.
“Bubby wait!” Kleiner shouts, but he’s not able to wrestle the file away before Bubby sees the title.
B-K55.
Bubby’s eyes narrow at his brother. “Where did you get that?”
“I- I found it.”
“You found it.”
Kleiner nods.
Bubby deadpans. “You found a very personal, very private document that I hid in the cupboard by jamming it behind the drawers? You accidentally came upon that?”
At the very least, Kleiner has the dignity to know when he’s caught red handed. He doesn’t respond.
“Alright.” Bubby pinches the bridge of his nose. “Why?”
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tayerroos · 3 years
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Patchwork Tales: Book 1
A “9" roleplay compendium.  Read on AO3 Chapter: 12 [First] [Back] [You Are Here] [Next] Warnings for this chapter: None
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I‘ll make you believe in yourself again (Derek Hale x Reader)
Summary: Your parents pressure you into having good grades, not caring about you or your friends. They simply want you to be successful. One night, after a pack meeting, things escalate between you & your parents & the first person you thought about running to was him., [Teen Wolf-Masterlist]
Words: 2,719
Warnings: verbal abusive parents, angst, fluff, sadness, soft Derek (Is this a warning? It is now.), cursing but that‘s bc it‘s me
If you like my work & wanna support me: a coffee would be highly appreciated ❤
To say school had been stressful lately would be an understatement. You had essays to write, tests to study for & homework to finish. Teachers were always content with you though since you were one of the only students who payed attention, studied hard & always gave 100%. Spending time with your friends was rare but ever since you had been involved with the pack, you had been quite busy with helping them. You were human but a smart one at that. The pack simply was not complete without you.
Seems peachy, am I right? So thinks everyone. You just did not spill your problems to your friends, thinking they had better things to take care of. Matter of fact, every time you were with the pack was like an escape from your reality. You were finally able to accomplish stuff that was appreciated by everybody. This is why, whenever you told your parents you would be studying with Scott & Stiles, you were actually at a pack meeting, school completely forgotten.
Here is the thing: your parents. Even though they were hardly ever at home, they managed to create a living hell for you. The pressure they put on you was almost unbearable yet you wanted to make them feel proud. To make them feel like their child was not a complete fuck-up. Your mom & dad often were on business trips, you did not even know what they were doing on such trips & you did not want to ask either. All you knew is that, when your parents were at home, they always found a reason to scream at you & call you names. They wanted their kid to be the most successful of everyone. They wanted their kid to write straight A‘s. For a long time you had managed to do exactly this. Then the pack came along & you started to focus more on their tasks. It was more important, you helped saving lives. Of course your parents did not know this & you never meant on telling them.
Friday. Your favorite day of the week. You got up, went to the bathroom, picked out a nice outfit & packed your stuff to head to school. Your parents would not come back until Sunday so you could hang out with your friends the entire weekend. Your third period was chemistry. You had the class with Scott & Stiles, your best friends. When you found out about Scott being a werewolf, you were not scared, as someone would think. You were amazed & wanted to find out more about it. He was the one who introduced you to Derek. The oh so emotionless Derek Hale. You thought he hated you at first. He gave you the impression that he was fed up with you, reminding you of your own parents. You became more quiet every time he was around. Yet it did not stop you from having a crush on him. Derek actually enjoyed your company but of course he tried to push his emotions down. He would not get close to someone again. Still, he noticed when you grew more distant, he always had an eye on you but would not let you know.
Anyway, chemistry. Last time you wrote a test but you had not studied as much. Chemistry was one of your favorite subjects so you had never studied that much. You still managed to get a C which made you proud. You knew your parents would not be back today so you planned on not telling them about your grade.
As your last period was over, you went to your locker, meeting up with Scott, Stiles, Isaac, Lydia & Allison. You would all meet at Derek‘s Loft in three hours so you got home, put your test on the kitchen table, meaning to put it away later, & made your way up to your room. Opening your drawer, you searched for comfy clothes & put them on. You decided on a big red jersey shirt & grey sweatpants. Pack meetings at Friday‘s always meant a movie night afterwards, your favorite.
You made your way to Derek, not caring to take your bike, you liked walking & the way to his loft was not that long. Arriving in front of his door, you wanted to knock but before you had the chance to do so, the door flung open, revealing a sternly looking Derek. He could sense you were here already & was a bit too eager to see you. You smiled shyly at him, focusing your eyes down at your feet. Derek shot you a smirk back but he knew you did not see it.
"Hi there.“ he said with his intimidating, deep voice that sent shivers down your spine.
„H- Hi, Derek.“ you replied, your voice shaking, making you cringe.
Derek stepped aside, motioning for you to come in. Surprisingly, you were the first one to arrive. Usually this did not happen, you were not as comfortable when you were alone with him so you always made sure that at least someone else was there already. You did not check the time though, way too excited for tonight.
"Can I bring you anything? (Y/N)?“ Derek asked, noticing you were not really paying attention.
"Um...actually, I‘m fine for now, thanks.“ you started blushing. The things this man could do to you.
"The others should be here soon. Make yourself as comfortable as possible, I know you don‘t like me that much. I don’t know if I scare you or anything but at least try to calm down a bit. I know your heart is beating faster than usual.“ Derek stated.
"Why would you think I‘m scared of you?“ you were taken aback by his statement. You thought he was the one who despised you.
"It‘s quite obvious, (Y/N)...You hardly ever talk to me, avoid my gaze & your heart doesn’t sound healthy at all when you’re around, like...ever.“ Derek said, his words somehow seeming hurt. Something you were not used to from him.
"I‘m sorry, I jus-" you actually were about to tell him why you behaved that way around him but before you had the chance to do so the door flung open, the others entering the loft. You shot a last look at Derek, eyes desperate to let him know & he knew something was up but now would not be the time.
You were all gathered around Derek‘s table, sheets spread across it. This was harder than you all thought it would be. After hours of what seemed like useless research you decided to wrap it up for today, settling up the movie night. Derek made popcorn & Stiles set up the movie. He chose Star Wars, of course he did. You were sitting at the end of the couch, this being your favorite place in Derek‘s loft. Before you could react, Derek places himself right next to you, offering you popcorn. You happily took some, starting to eat it. You could feel your heart picking up its pace & you knew Derek could feel it too. Anyway, you tried to ignore it & focused on the screen in front of you.
As the movie went on, you grew more & more tired. Your head leaning on Derek‘s shoulder. You did not really notice but he stirred, this being completely new to him. After a few minutes, he relaxed a bit more, draping his arm across your body. You snuggled closer into him, enjoying the closeness you two shared.
By the time the movie was over, you fell asleep on Derek‘s shoulder. The others already bid their goodbyes, silently making their way out of the loft, trying not to wake you. Then it was just you & him, alone. The moonlight let your face lit up in such a beautiful way. He admired your sleeping form, feeling happy you finally found your peace even though he was next to you. Your heartbeat was steady & peaceful. As much as he hated it, he had to wake you. You have to go back home, get some more sleep & meet up with the pack tomorrow.
"(Y/N)? Hey, (Y/N), wake up.“ Derek whispered.
You groaned, not wanting to leave your comfortable position.
"Come on, you have to head back home, we have to work some more tomorrow.“ Derek said lovely. Oh how much you admired this side of him. You felt safe within his arms, something you have not felt in a long, long time.
"What time is it?“ you opened your (Y/E) eyes & looked at him through your lashes. He could have kissed you right then & there but it would not have been the right time. He will get the chance someday...hopefully.
"11 pm, it‘s time you go to your bed.“ Derek answered, not wanting to let you go but knowing he had to. You started to get up, stretched & searched for your jacket. This was when you realized that you did not wear a jacket, just your jersey shirt. Derek already knew this so he handed you one of his jackets to throw over.
"Thanks.“
"No problem. Do you want me to bring you home?“ Derek asked concerned.
"Nah, I‘ll be fine, it‘s not far. Thanks though.“ you moved to his door. "See you tomorrow?"
"Yeah, see you.“ Derek watched you leave. He then smiled to himself. So you were not scared of him. Maybe you all were just too oblivious to realize. Maybe everything will turn out to be fine in the end.
Standing at your front door, you searched for your keys. When you found them, you opened the door, stepping inside. You were surprised when you saw a light inside. You could have sworn you had switched off the lights before leaving. Maybe you had forgot one. Stepping into your leaving room you let out a short scream. Your mom & dad were sitting on the couch, looking quite angry. Why were they back already? It was not Sunday?
"Oh so you did decide to show up?“ your dad mocked.
"I think we made it clear that you are not allowed to go out except when you‘re studying. By the way...what is THIS?!“ your mother raised her voice at the end. You flinched away, knowing what was about to happen. Your mom held your chemistry test in front of your face, a look of pure anger & disappointment on her face.
"I- I can explain. It was a surpr-"
"CUT IT!“ your dad chimed in. Again you flinched away, trying to step back until your back hit a wall. This will not end well.
"You really don’t get it, do you?“ your mom asked. "We want you to be better but all you do is fuck things up. You‘re such a useless little bitch. You know what? Whenever someone asks me if I have kids I tell them no because I would be ashamed to talk about your pathetic ass.“ with each word her voice became louder & louder. Tears were streaming down your face. You did not understand why your parents treated you that way but you started to believe their words.
"I wish I wouldn’t be your father. You‘re the worst kid one can have. I HATE YOU, WE HATE YOU!!“ your father screamed. By now you were seriously scared they were about to hit you. They never really laid a hand on you but they had never been this angry before.
"I‘m sorry, I‘ll try to be bett-"
"Leave.“ your dad said dangerously low.
"W- What?“ you could not believe what you just heard. They wanted to kick you out. Yeah, they were verbally abusive but they were your parents. Your parents who were supposed to love you.
"LEAVE YOU STUPID BITCH."
This was all it took for you to turn around & sprint out of your, well not anymore, house. You did not even care to take your belongings. To be honest, you had nothing that really kept you there in the first place. You should have been glad, you were finally free. Free of your parents. That did not stop your from crying.
Without knowing where your feet dragged you, you only stopped running when you saw a big familiar building. Your tears blurred your vision but you knew exactly where you were. Derek‘s loft. You contemplated if you really should head in. Why would Derek want to deal with you anyway? Your parents were right, you were a fuck up, useless, pathetic. But where else could you possibly go? It was only then when you realized that it had been raining. Your clothes were drenched & you started shaking because of the cold.
You did not care. You were standing in front of his door, deciding to finally knock. You knocked for about three times, slowly losing hope. Derek was probably asleep. Maybe it was better that way. When you started turning around you heard the door squeaking.
"(Y/N)? What are you doing here? Are you okay?“ Derek asked, concerning features crossing his face.
"I- I‘m-" you could not finish because your voice started to break. Derek took you in for a hug immediately. You held onto him like your life depended on it & cried into his chest.
"I‘ve got you, sweetie. I‘m here.“, (Y/N).“ Derek soothed you. Somehow his words made you cry even more but not in a bad way. You were so glad he was the one you were going to. How you ended up on his couch? You did not know. Eventually your tears stopped & you calmed down, exhausted by everything that had happened to you that night.
"I‘m sorry, Derek. I just...I didn’t know where to go.“
"Do you wanna tell me what happened?“
"Okay..." you breathed. "My parents, they have been obsessed with my grades for as long as I can remember. It all started out with them being disappointed but it got worse. They started calling me names, screaming at me whenever I didn’t get an A. Derek, they made my life a living hell. When I got back home, they were waiting for me, my chemistry test in my mom‘s hands. They started screaming, they scared me & then all of a sudden they told me to leave.“
Derek needed a few seconds to let your words sink in. Before he could speak up, you continued.
"I started to believe their words. Them calling me pathetic, useless...a disappointment. So when we first met & you acted quite cold towards me I thought you‘d think the same as my parents. I didn’t wanna bother you, that‘s why I kept quiet whenever you were around. Truth is, I‘ve been scared, Derek. I am so so scared.“ you confessed.
"Shhh, I‘m here. If I had known I would‘ve said something way sooner. I simply thought you hated me but as a matter of fact, I always had an eye on you & saw you slowly disappearing. (Y/N), you‘re not alone. You don’t need to be scared. You‘re safe with me.“ he pressed a kiss on your forehead.
"I don’t know what to do...I have nowhere to go. I have nothing, Derek."
"You have me, sweetheart. I‘m right here. You‘ll be staying with me, okay? We‘re gonna get through this together. I‘ll make you believe in yourself again, I promise." he said sincerely.
"The thing is...I can’t be saved. How will you make me believe in myself again?"
"Well, for starters, I believe in you.“ Derek looked into your (Y/E) eyes.
"Why though?" you asked?
Derek slowly leaned in, searching for any rejection. When he saw you did not move, he put his soft lips onto your own, moving in sync. When Derek could not make you believe with his words, he would try to make you believe with his actions. You scooted closer to him if that was possible at this point. After your kiss, you stayed close together, simply enjoying each other’s company.
"And I thought you hated me." you whispered.
"And I thought YOU hated me.“ Derek chuckled. Maybe he was right. Maybe everything was meant to turn out like this. For now, you felt safer than ever, in the arms of Derek. Derek, who would try everything to keep you happy. Forever.
Published 02/29/2020 by Cathy
410 notes · View notes
anna-pixie · 4 years
Note
would you be up for writing Poe Dameron based off of the song Girls by The 1975? like an age gap (nothing gross, just maybe a 19 or 20 year old reader) and Poe trying to navigate dating someone significantly younger (i imagine he’s somewhere close to Oscar Isaac’s real age, probably in his 30s?)
i think i might do another part to this, with them properly dating. this is just them getting together, i guess?
Request: Poe Dameron based off of the song Girls by The 1975? like an age gap and Poe trying to navigate dating someone significantly younger
Pairing: Poe Dameron x reader
Warnings: Swearing, age gap (19/35)
*
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“They’re just girls, Finn.”
“They’re, what, 19? They’re adults, Poe.” Finn’s voice is condescending as he speaks to his friend, Poe scowling at him in response. 
“I’m worried about Rey finding out, you know what she’s like…” He says, voice worried as he bites his lip. 
“Poe, Poe, Poe. Where’s the fun in doing what you’re told?” Finn smacks his friend's shoulder lightly, beckoning over to the two girls, “Besides, everyone knows Y/N is head over heels for you. Go for it, man. You deserve to let off some steam.”
Poe bites his lip as he contemplates. 
Sure, he’s not that old. 35 isn’t that old, right? Poe had never had trouble with his confidence, he was gorgeous and he knew it. He could get anyone he wanted, with a mere smile. Then there’s you. He noticed the looks you gave him, the way you would stop talking and flush whenever he walked into the same room as you. He noticed the way you bit your lip every time he wore his orange jumpsuit. But you were so young. 
He hadn’t been too bothered about it, not until Rey voiced her opinion. One night when the three friends were playing cards in Poe’s room, the topic turned to you - since you and your friend Dyla had only recently joined the resistance. Of course he mentioned how pretty you were, everyone knew it. Finn hummed in agreement but Rey’s face dropped into a frown. 
“Really?” Her tone was incredulous, as if the man had just told her to fuck off or something. 
“Uh… what?” Poe looks to Finn, who is equally as confused as himself. 
“You’re old enough to be her dad, that’s so pervy.”
“She’s, like, twenty.” Poe counters, his face heating at the accusation of being ‘pervy’. 
“Nineteen, actually.” 
“Whatever, Rey. I wouldn’t actually sleep with her.”
“Good. You better hadn’t.”
So, he didn’t. No matter how much he wanted to stride across the Cantina and fling you against the wall everytime you so much as glanced over to him. No matter how many times he had to excuse himself to the bathroom after seeing you bite your lip. 
Until tonight. 
*
You’d put in more effort than usual tonight. It was the first night off for everyone in a long time, so spirits were high and drinks were flowing. Dyla had snuck a bottle of some sort of spirit into your room, and the two of you took shot after shot whilst getting ready. You take one final shot, reveling in the way your head spins slightly, and look yourself up and down in the mirror. 
Tonight would be different. Ever since you joined the resistance, the only man on your mind was Poe Dameron. The first moment you saw him was indescribable. You had been introducing yourself to General Organa when he entered the room, barking orders to some scrawny men in front of computers. You had lost your train of thought as your eyes followed him around the room, shivering slightly at the authority his presence commanded. General Organa was amused, very used to the effect Poe had on women. 
You’re not a very confident person. Actually, your shyness is crippling. So the only way you knew how to flirt with Poe was with long, lingering glances and slight lip bites when you thought he wasn’t looking. You have kept up this delusion for a while, the delusion that Poe might one day look at you and decide to sweep you off your feet. But you knew better now. 
You’d received a slap in the face from reality when you snuck into the cantina late last night, since you’d forgotten to eat dinner. There, at the far end of the room, was Poe. He had one of the other pilots, Grilda, you think her name is, pushed up against the wall. Their lips were clashing in a fervour and your legs felt wobbly as you watched the scene. It was then you realised you were wasting your time pining over a man who would never give you the time of day. 
So here you stand, your favourite red dress on, ready to go and flirt with someone who is not Poe Dameron. You stand beside Dyla as she fixes you both a drink, scanning the room slightly to see who had joined the celebration. You force your eyes to pass quickly over Poe, who is standing across the room from you with Finn. Though, you could’ve sworn he was looking at you….
3 drinks later, you finally excuse yourself to the toilet, leaving Dyla with a few other friends to keep her company. You groan in delight as you pee, it always feels so much better when you’re drunk. Before you leave you quickly ruffle your curled hair in the mirror and reapply your red lipstick. You smile at yourself, trying to give an internal pep talk. 
You can do this. Go outside. Take a shot. Find a random pilot. Kiss the hell out of him. 
You exit the bathroom with a deep breath, stopping suddenly in your tracks when you find Poe leaning against the wall opposite the bathroom. Surely this is a coincidence, right? He can’t actually be waiting for you. He looks up when you open the door and his eyes widen slightly, pushing himself off the wall towards you. 
“Y/N, hey.” His voice is as confident as ever and it takes all of your willpower to not start kissing him right there. 
“Poe… um, hi.” Your voice is soft, almost shaking as you bite your lip with nerves. Poe groans slightly and your eyes widen as he takes a step towards you, his tall frame towering over you. 
“Listen, I’ve seen the looks you give me.” He gets straight to the point, walking you backwards slightly so you’re now leant against the wall, with him trapping you against him. 
“Oh, Gosh.” Your brow furrows, he’s here to tell you to stop being a desperate loser, right?
“The way you bite your lip when you think I’m not looking.” He continues, bringing a large hand to cup your face. His thumb brushes your lower lip slightly and you release it from it’s hold, breath quickening. 
“I-I’m sorry.” It becomes clear quickly that Poe isn’t listening to you as he leans in closer, confidence growing as he pushes his thumb into your mouth. You squeak slightly, not sure where this is coming from all of a sudden. You’re certainly not complaining, though. You react quickly, not wanting to waste the moment as you suck his thumb lightly, reveling in the way he groans. 
“I’m 35.” He speaks suddenly, pulling back and cupping your face with both of his hands, forcing you to meet his eyes. 
“Um, okay?” You reply, confusion clouding your features. What does that have to do with what is going on right now?
“I mean, uh,” He takes a step back, seeming timid all of a sudden as he scratches the back of his neck, “I just want you to know. In case I’m, y’know, too old for you.” He avoids your eyes this time and you can’t help the laugh that escapes you. He frowns at your response and you quickly backtrack. 
“You? Old? Tell me another joke.” You grab his face this time, your movements encouraged by the alcohol in your system. “I know how old you are, does it really look like I care about that?”
“Guess not.” Confident Poe is back now, a smirk gracing his features as he steps forward once more. You barely have any time to react before his lips are on yours, hot and wet. 
He winds his hand into your hair tightly and tugs, causing you to gasp lightly. He takes this opportunity to push his tongue past your lips, exploring your mouth as you reciprocate desperately. You’re panting by the time he pulls away, giggling at the red lipstick that stains his mouth. 
“Let's do this again sometime.” He grins, kissing you once more before wiping the lipstick off his mouth with the back of his hand. He walks off, a spring in his step as he returns to Finn who grins at him knowingly, Dyla sitting on his lap. 
You take a moment to catch your breath and let your brain catch up with your body. Did that really just happen or are you dreaming?
*
If you thought that was a dream, the next month had been an out of body experience. As you lie in your bed next to Poe, watching him snore with his head resting on your bare chest, you think back to the previous month when you had barely spoken to him. 
After your encounter, he could barely keep his hands off you. You would get pulled into dark hallways and empty utility rooms, Poe would have you muffling a scream behind your hand in mere minutes. 
That’s how it always was though, in secret. 
“I can’t be what you need, you’re just a girl, this is just physical.” He told you time and time again. 
But time and time again, he would show up at your door when he couldn’t sleep. You hadn’t realised he was plagued by night terrors until he woke you up with one, screaming in terror with his eyes screwed shut. That was when he told you that he could only sleep soundly with you. Unbeknownst to him, you waited for him to fall asleep every night before he did, wanting to make sure he was in a peaceful slumber before you succumbed to unconsciousness. You always woke up wrapped in his arms, so he must wake up at least once during the night. 
“Mmmh.” Poe hums sleepily as he blinks his eyes open slowly, looking up at you from where he lies. He gives you a dopey smile, still delirious from sleep. You return it, carding your fingers through his hair as his eyes start to droop again, “Don’t wanna get up. Wanna stay here forever.” You squeal as he buries his head in the crook of your neck, biting you playfully. 
“C’mon, mister. You’ve got a meeting with General Organa at 6.” You try to remind him, but he simply ignores you, choosing instead to disappear under the covers with a wicked grin, “Poe? What are yo- Oh!” Your train of thought stops as you feel his mouth on your heat, waking you up completely as he holds down your shaking legs. 
“She can wait.” He grumbles. 
*
“I told you she’d be mad, Poe.” You give him a pointed look as he collapses into your bed after returning from his meeting with the general. 
“Shut up.” He glares at you from your bed as you fix your hair in the small mirror, “I don’t know where she gets off calling me immature. Me? Immature? Please.” He crosses his arms and pouts. 
“You’re pouting like a little baby, Poe.”
“You’re supposed to tell me that I’m the most mature person you’ve ever met and that Leia should never speak to me like that.”
You repeat his words back to him in a monotonous voice, grinning as his glare darkens and he falls back onto the bed. 
“C’mere.” He looks back up at you and beckons you over. You comply with a wry smile and giggle as he pulls you down with him, twisting around so he’s on top of you. He kisses you deeply, biting your bottom lip hard as you try to tell him to need to leave soon, “No.” He mumbles, pushing his tongue into his mouth. Well, 10 minutes late won’t hurt, right?
You shriek in surprise as the door to your room slams open suddenly, the two of you looking over with wide eyes. It seems as though Poe’s little droid, BB8, opened the door for Rey and Finn who stand behind it. Finn seems to be holding in laughter whilst Rey sports a thunderous expression at the sight of us. Oh dear, she’s not his girlfriend, right?
I sit up quickly, pushing Poe off me and fixing my hair. Poe mutters angrily to himself as Rey invites herself into my room, stomping over to us. 
“You perv!” She points at Poe, and my eyes widen as I look between the two. 
“Wh… what?” You stumble over your words as you try to figure out what is going on. 
“Nothing, baby, Rey was just leaving.”
“Y/N.” Rey ignores Poe completely, turning to face you, “He’s old enough to be your dad! What are you doing?”
“Rey.” Poe is shouting now, his loud voice piercing through the tense atmosphere of the room. “You made me second guess approaching Y/N for months. You know what? It was never about my age. I’m only 35 for kriff’s sake, you act like I’m fucking Palpatine. What is this really about? And you’d better tell me the truth because I’m this close to losing my shit.”
You vaguely register Finn’s ‘Oh snap’ as you gaze wide eyed at the angry man in front of you. His jaw clenches and his fists are balled up, muscles bulging in anger. Oh dear, you don’t think you’ve ever been so turned on before. 
No one expects what happens next. Rey bursts into tears. 
“It’s not fair.” She wails, “I liked you first.” My eyes widen as she turns to me. I thought she was speaking to Poe, “I could tell you liked Poe instead. I wanted to keep him away from you.”
The room falls silent after Rey’s confession, no one knowing what to say. A wave of guilt comes crashing into you, but it’s hardly your fault. You speak to Rey occasionally when you see her around base, but you never had any indication that she was interested in you.
“Fucking hell.” Poe wipes a hand down his face in exasperation. “What did I say, Finn? Fucking girls, man.”
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Gaslighting
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OC x Reader then Embry x Reader
Warning: abusive tactics are used in this first part.
Part 1: “Gaslight” by Snow Tha Product
Part 2: “New Me” by Ella Eyre
Part 3: “Falling for You” by Tamia
***
“Gaslighting: (verb) to manipulate (someone) by psychological means into questioning their sanity.”
Being young and in love has its perks and downfalls. Isaac and I have been together for about a year and a half now and everything was fine at first, until a few weeks after he asked me to officially be his girlfriend in the beginning.
Oh you a big money spendin' Man who gets the women Big bill droppin' Want it, then you got it Rollie face wearin' If she lookin', then she starin' If she starin', then she carin' But can't put a finger on it
He was supposed to be saving up for college. We had both planned on going to Washington State. Well, he had planned for us to go. I wanted to go to the nearby junior college since I had no idea what I wanted to do. I figured I would save a ton of money getting my basics out of the way by paying half of what I would at a University.
But instead of saving his money, he was buying random crap and flashing it to everyone. I’m talking about new shoes, chains, brand named clothes. Stuff that he could buy later, stuff that wasn’t necessary right now. He was strutting like Instagram influencers—the same people he hated the most and promised to never be like.
You a big game talker, every ex's your stalker You ain't ready for no relationship, but can talk to her You just want some company Every bitch you fuck with either crazy or amazing Then you shady as can fuckin' be
I would catch him constantly flirty and texting random numbers. When I called him out on it, he would call me crazy and make me feel bad for not trusting him. And of course, I’d feel bad and apologize even when he was in the wrong. I loved him after all.
You can't commit and that's your greatest talent Claim you're breaking hearts like back to back Deep inside there's somethin' less than average 'Bout the bitches that you claim to bag Somethin' 'bout the bracket that you at Maybe all the practice that you have Wouldn't do you any good where I'm at Class ain't somethin' you can pay to have
Gaslight pro (pro) Gaslight pro (pro)
Our break-up and make-up game lasted throughout Junior and Senior year. My friends constantly coming at me for not seeing his player ways. Me, not seeing the manipulation he was playing on me. The more I called him out on his bullshit, the more I was crazy, which made me angrier and more depressed.
And you could tell me lies Tell me, tell me lies Tell me I'm trippin' Tell me why, tell me I'm the one Then rewind to a gaslight pro (pro)
Oh you a fuckin' Prince Charming out in public I'm like "Yeah, yeah, yeah" Lead me on, then they leave Then it's back to never there Throw the blame out everywhere "No one can compare" yeah, yeah You just never wrong, but here's your problem Now, I don't care
It was a game with him. Everyone told me to stay away, but no one knew him as I knew him. No one knew the side of Isaac as I did. Behind those deep silver eyes and freckled face, you wouldn’t believe how much of a softy he was. It was like he would pull a 180 on everyone.
But that was the thing. No matter how many times you pull 180’s, you’re still doing a 360. And eventually, you’ll get dizzy and fall apart.
You playin' with my mind, somehow every time Pretty lies come right out your mouth, and that ain't right Gotta fuckin' draw the line I've been just your type Prey on any insecurity you fucking find Got me questionin' my memory You're a narcissist, intensity You startin' off the problem, causin' drama Then you got me second guessin' me And I don't give a fuck which house your Moon is What sign you are or how you grew up You're a fuckin' adult and you got to get it together You're a dick and you're manipulative as fuck, ugh
Gaslight pro (pro) Gaslight pro (pro)
“What the fuck Isaac! Are you serious?!” I yell at my soon-to-be ex-boyfriend. Out in the open at school, making out with Francesca DeLaurentis, the bitches of all bitches in the school. The look of shock on his face couldn’t describe how he felt.
“Aw, what’s the matter? Mad that your ex finally has something worth living for?” She laughs as if that was my problem. I ignored her.
“Really?! You couldn’t have the balls to at least break up with me first before sleeping with the known walking STD of the school?!” that seemed to snap him out of his trance.
“Seriously? That’s the best you got. You know what, fine. I should have, but guess what chubs, I didn’t. Plus, I don’t know why I even bothered staying with you. Look at you, why would someone like me bothered staying with someone like you. Look at you, why would someone like me, who can be with this fine ass here” slapping Francesca’s nonexisting ass, “be with someone like you? A sloth. You’re lazy, you don’t bother to present yourself, and really, could you at least put on make-up. Give me something to look at.” He said as if I was the one holding him back and I was the problem.
“Fuck you!” I said, before knocking him in the face and storming off. Lousy piece of shit.
And you could tell me lies Tell me, tell me lies Tell me I'm trippin' Tell me why, tell me I'm the one Then rewind to a gaslight pro (pro)
Gaslight pro (pro) Gaslight pro (pro)
After that day, I threw everything of his that wasn’t worth money away. Sold what I could (thankfully his dumbass left a lot of valuable things here) and kept up with school. As soon as graduation was over with, he’d be gone and a thing of the past. And I couldn’t be happier about that.
It was painful, to be honest, but throughout that time “with” him, by slowly stepping away from him emotionally, it became easy leaving him for good.
And you could tell me lies Tell me, tell me lies Tell me I'm trippin' Tell me why, tell me I'm the one Then rewind to a gaslight pro (pro)
And you could tell me lies Tell me, tell me lies Tell me I'm trippin' Tell me why, tell me I'm the one Then rewind to a gaslight pro (pro)
Pulling up to the school the following week, was like a ton of weightlifting and falling on my shoulders. It was both painful and satisfying. Painful because I had to endure my ex, satisfying because my support group was here. Graduation and summer is only 2 months away and I couldn’t wait to start a semi-new life.
“Hey! Y/n!” Clair, my best friend, called out to me.
“Hey, what’s up?”
“Did you hear the big news?”
“Francesca finally got pregnant?”
“No, well, maybe. But no,” she looks over my shoulder and smiles, “Someone had a nice glow-up.” I looked at her with questionable eyes and followed her eyesight. And boy was I glad. Embry Call struts the hallway as if he was a piece of gold crafted by God. He’d always been adorable, cute, and charming. Quiet and conservative among his friends.
“Hot damn,” I said under my breath. And it was like he heard me; he looked at me straight in the eyes and stopped in the hallway. At that moment, I felt warm and fuzzy—it was weird. His mouth opened a little and a grin grew on his face. His friends, Jared Cameron and Paul Lahote nudged him and followed his eyesight. They looked at each other and started laughing and pushing one another. Embry looked at them and said something before they started shoving each other.
“What I’d kill to be under anyone of them,” Clair said.
“I call dibs on Embry,” I said looking at her. She looked back at me and smiled then shrugged her shoulders.
“That’s fine, give me Paul for the night and I’m good.”
“Gasp! What about Quil? Your future husband and father of your kids.” I say dramatically and quietly to ourselves. She smiles and rolls her eyes.
“Oh, he’s still my baby daddy. I just want to try him for a night.” She says, like the hoe (metaphorically) she is.
“As long as I get Jared, I think we’ll be okay.” Kim walks up to us watching the rowdy 3 boys in the hallway. The bell rings, signaling the warning before class starts.
“Well girls, let's get our asses in there,” I said with faults determination. I look back and see Embry watching me. I smile and turn away. Unknowing to either one of us, another set of eyes was watching closely nearby.
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the-awkward-outlaw · 4 years
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Arthur denying his feelings for reader be like: plays Hercules (1997) - I Wont Say Im In Love
Anon, this one turned out so cute and fluffy, I’m literally on the verge of death!
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Arthur’s leaning against a tree at the edge of Clemens Point, feeling like a lovestruck idiot. He’s been watching you for longer than he cares to admit. Despite being the newest member of the gang, you’ve continuously surprised him over the past few weeks. It was the obvious stuff at first, the way you wore your hair, the way you talked to people (especially him), how you treated your horse. Now it’s the small things he’s taken notice of. How you brush the hair from your face, how you like to watch the sunrise while drinking your morning coffee. 
He rubs his hand down his face, knowing he shouldn’t get involved with you. He’s a fool for falling for you in the first place. Not that there’s anything wrong with you, he thinks, but no one would want his affections. Besides, he’s had too many bad experiences with romantic relationships that it’s just easier to be alone. He’s still heartbroken about how things ended between him and Mary, and thoughts of Eliza and Isaac still torment him. The last thing he wants is to add you to his list. 
He crosses his arms, still leaning against the tree and watching you walk across the camp to go and feed the chickens. He watches them gather around your feet, pecking at the grass for the food you’re tossing down. He’s almost tempted to join your side, to look for any excuse to talk to you. You’ve become close friends after all, talking comes easy. But he’s decided to try and push you away, he can’t risk falling for you. Or at least falling for you more than he already has. 
“Hey ol’ man, grumpy Morgan!” Sean chuckles, coming towards him. He’s clearly on guard duty, the repeater in his hands. 
“What you want, boy?” Arthur says, clearing his throat and looking towards the lake, trying to look innocent. 
“Nothin’. Just wonderin’ when you’s gonna ask that girl out. Y’know, Karen was tellin’ me the other day how Y/N fancies you. It ain’t a secret you fancy her too. Why not just do everyone a favor, take her out?” 
“You don’t know what you’re talkin’ about,” Arthur growls. “It ain’t like that between us.” 
“Oh I can see it all over your face, Morgan. You. Love. Her.” 
“You’re the world’s biggest fool, Sean. If you know what’s best for ya, you’ll shut your mouth.” 
“I knew it, I knew it!” Sean laughs. “Yer the most predictable person. Whenever someone says somethin’ about you that’s true, ya get all defensive and angry. Just do yerself a favor, take that girl out on the town. Hey, if ya need an excuse, I overheard her sayin’ she’s been missin’ the ‘forests of West Elizabeth’.” He makes air quotes. 
Before Arthur can snap at him again, he walks away, chuckling lightly. Arthur sighs and leans further against the tree. Sean’s definitely given him something to think about. The forests of West Elizabeth, he repeats silently. What exactly does that mean? He knows you come from out west and that you prefer it out there, much like himself. He’s never heard you talk about forests or anything like that. 
Against his better judgment, Arthur comes up with a plan and decides to bring it to you. Besides, he’d be lying if he didn’t want a reason to take you out somewhere alone. Not to try anything, of course, but he enjoys your company. There’s something about you that he finds addictive. 
He walks slowly up to you, wringing his hands a bit. He’s nervous that you’ll see right through him. When he gets close to you, still feeding the chickens, he notices something’s wrong. It’s your energy, you just seem down. Your shoulders sag, as though a weight presses down on you. He clears his throat, catching your attention. 
“You a’right?” he asks quietly. 
Your head snaps up and you look at him. Instantly, the sadness from your face flickers and is replaced by your soft smile. He can tell you’re faking it though. 
“Oh hi, Mr. Morgan. Yeah, I’m doing just fine. How are you?” 
“Just dandy. Hey listen, I was plannin’ on goin’ out huntin’, figured I could use a partner. You wanna come?” 
You pause for a moment. Arthur wants to take you hunting? Why? Sure, you’re familiar enough with a bow and a gun to use them, though the results aren’t always perfect. Maybe word’s gotten around camp that you were crying last night. You were just overwhelmed by everything and had to let it out. The mood still lingers. Arthur must be inviting you because he feels obligated to cheer you up. It doesn’t help you to feel better. It makes you feel like an even bigger burden since Arthur’s constantly bigger running jobs. Still, you have a hard time finding a reason to say no to him. 
“Sure, I’ll go hunting. I, uh, hope you don’t mind dragging me along.” 
Your choice of words catches him off guard. He’d heard nothing about you breaking down the night before but the dimness of your eyes and your words tells him how bad your state is. 
“Don’t mind at all. Would you wanna go now?” 
You look over at the setting sun. It’s nearly gone by this point. 
“Now?” you ask. “Wouldn’t it be better to go in the morning when it’s light?” 
He huffs a bit. “Well I suppose, if that’s what you want. Course I don’t mind spendin’ a night under the stars. But sure, we’ll leave in the morning.” 
You feel stupid all of a sudden. You’ve spent plenty of nights in the open, away from camp. It’s just harder to hunt at night. “Mr. Morgan, wait. Wait. I… Yes, we can leave now. I don’t know why I was being stupid.” 
He turns back around at your words. He smiles a bit. “Okay. I’ll uh meet ya by the horses. Five minutes?” 
You nod and finish feeding the chickens. You try clearing your head, especially the nasty thoughts swirling around. You don’t want to seem like a self-pitying fool around Arthur. You’ve been low-key flirting with him the past couple of weeks and he’s noticeably pulled away from you since. You didn’t want to give him another reason to run away. 
After gathering your things, you meet him by the horses and mount up. The two of you head out at a brisk trot. Arthur starts leading you north along the borders of Flat Iron Lake. You want to ask him where he’s thinking of hunting, but your current mood forces you to keep quiet. No one would want to hear you talk anyways. You start questioning why he even wanted to bring you out in the first place. The only thing you can come up with is that it’s because he’s a good man and he heard you were in need of a friendly face. It makes you feel like even more of a burden. 
On the northern side of Scarlett Meadows, Arthur pulls to a stop. The sun has set properly now and given way to a nearly full moon. He dismounts and the two of you set up camp. As you sit around the fire, waiting for your meat to finish cooking, he can tell by your eyes that you’re far away. He doubts you’re in a good place. It makes him want to put his arms around you and tell you all the things he feels about you, but he made a promise. He can’t tell you. 
“You uh want the tent tonight?” he asks. “I can sleep out here tonight.” 
“No, Mr. Morgan. It’s your tent, you should sleep in it.” 
He huffs and smiles a bit. “Ya can call me Arthur, miss. Ain’t exactly like we’re strangers.” 
You smile a bit. “Right, sorry.” 
He pulls the meat off the fire and gives you some to eat. When you’re done, he sits next to you. He feels like you just need a friend to help you out, yet he isn’t sure how to do it without admitting he’s got feelings for you. You yawn heavily. 
“You should get some sleep. I’ll stay up a bit, not quite tired yet.” 
Instead of agreeing and getting up to lie in your bedroll, you lean over and put your head on his shoulder. He stiffens up a bit at your touch but it’s such a welcome feeling, he can’t pull away. He realizes now that you, like everyone else in camp, have just been overworked and underappreciated in camp. This will be the best medicine for you, getting you away and just taking a break. He wonders again about the phrase “forests of West Elizabeth”. As he’s pondering, he’s also fighting with himself. Nothing would give him more pleasure than to wrap his arm around you or pull you in his lap and hold you against him and watch you sleep. He won’t do that though. He can’t do it. 
As he’s arguing with himself, he hears the softest snore come from you. He smiles when he realizes you’ve passed out on his shoulder. He gently picks you up and places you into hsi bedroll in the tent. He covers you with his blanket and then he sits back down by the fire. He smiles a little as he thinks about what could be between you if he were dumb enough to take that chance. 
***********************************************
In the morning, he notices you seem a little happier, a little more like yourself. Like you’ve finally been able to relax a bit and get a good sleep for the first time in days. You talk a bit more, yet he can tell you’re choosing your words carefully, which is unlike you. One of the things he admires about you is that you say what you think, even if it’s brutal. He knows he can trust what you say. 
You expect him to take you somewhere like the outskirts of Emerald Ranch where game is plentiful. Instead, he keeps leading you west, across the wide mouth of the Dakota River and into West Elizabeth. Seeing the tall pines and green grasses lifts your spirits greatly and you feel like you can take your first proper breath in weeks. 
Arthur can see the visible change in you, how your eyes begin to light up again. You smile more easily and start talking more. He notices you even make some of your light jokes. He’s always liked your jokes, cheesy as some of them are. You’ve got a natural sense of humor he finds endearing. He thinks to take you to Big Valley, but something tells him it’s not enough. He needs to take a bigger risk with you. 
After arriving at Lake Owanjilla, he pauses. He knows where he wants to take you, but it’s incredibly dangerous. Not because the land but because of where it lies. He just hopes that no one will see the pair of you and if they do, they won’t connect the dots. 
“Come on, we’re almost there,” he says and he kicks his horse into an easy trot. You follow him across the dam, down the trail and over the river. You wonder what he’s up to as you enter Tall Trees. You know the risks of going anywhere this close to Blackwater. Word is bounty hunters and Pinkertons have gathered here like flies to a rotting corpse. You want to tell him it’d be wiser to go back, but something tells you to not question him. That he knows what he’s doing. 
After a while longer, Arthur slows his horse down. You’re in the thick of Tall Trees, the pines growing high above your heads. The world has turned from green to red with speckles of blue and purple. You’ve always loved Tall Trees, the tall red pines and the green ferns growing between them. The smell is indescribable, addictive. Somewhere hidden in the trees, a squirrel begins to bark. 
Arthur looks back at you and grins. You don’t see him as you’re busy gazing at the trees. He can tell that this was exactly what you needed, despite the obvious dangers. He keeps leading you down the trail until the trees break and give way to a small lake nestled in the bowl of the mountains. This is where he finally stops and dismounts. You do as well, though you’re still staring around like a complete moron. You finally turn to him and give him a genuine smile, which makes his knees feel weak. 
“Arthur, this is beautiful. But… what are we doing here?” 
He shrugs his shoulders. “Just seemed like this would be a good place to come and… fish.” 
“Fish?” you giggle. “You came here to fish?” 
“Sure, why not? Hear there’s a real nice bass livin’ in this lake. Figure if anyone’s gonna catch him, might as well be me.” 
“Not if I catch him first!” you shoot and run towards the water. He calls to you and chases after you, the two of you laughing madly. You reach a broken pier first and pull out your rod. “Beat you, Arthur!” 
“Oh trust me, sweetheart, runnin’ ain’t fishin’. We’ll see in the end who’s the real winner.” 
The two of you cast out and slowly pull your lures back. With the sun beating down and the wind carrying the intoxicating smell of the forest, you couldn’t be happier. You can practically feel the black cloud that’s been hovering over you getting drawn out, like venom from a snake. 
Arthur’s line gets tugged hard and he yanks back his pole, setting the hook. “Ooh I got somethin’.” 
“Well pull it in, quick!” 
You watch him fight with the fish and then he pulls out a beautifully colored bass. You laugh and pat his shoulder. 
“He’s a beauty! Good catch, Arthur. Guess you won this round.” 
He chuckles and wraps the fish up before putting it into his satchel. “Yeah, guess I did.” 
For the next hour, the two of you fish a little more, bringing out multiple trout and bass. Then, just when you think the two of you might be able to get away with staying here for a long while, you hear, echoing across the water, voices. It sounds like a small group of men. Your heart drops at the thought of bounty hunters. There’s no doubt in your mind they might be scouring Tall Trees. It’s the perfect place for a gang to hide, after all. 
“Think we’ve outstayed our welcome,” Arthur says and collapses his pole. You do the same and then you both swiftly remount your horses and run off from the lake, avoiding the path. Over the next half hour, you dodge between trees and carefully navigate around the steep drops of the mountain until you hit the trail right above Owanjilla. There, you make your way across the river and into safe lands again. Arthur leads you over to the north end of the lake where he finally dismounts. 
“Well that was a fine outing, Mr. Morgan,” you say, patting your horse’s neck from the ground. 
“Sure. Well, figure we can hunt here the next couple of days. Know there’s plenty of game in Big Valley.” 
You nod and smile at him. “Yeah. But tell me: did you really take me there for a fish?” 
He blushes a bit and hides his head beneath his hat. “Well… well no. I known the fish was there a long time, but I didn’t go for it. I just thought you could use the fresh air.” 
This makes you laugh. “Arthur, I can get fresh air in plenty of places that have fewer risks.” 
He blushes more. “I know. But… well, I won’t lie to ya. I figured the place could do you some good. Heard you were tellin’ Karen you missed it and you seemed down the last couple of days. Just thought I might be able to help.” 
You smile at him, your eyes glittering. “Thank you, Arthur. You’ve no idea how much it helped.” You lean up and place a soft kiss to his cheek. He grins, his cheek burning. You look away and say you’re going to go and hunt. He lies by saying he’s going to try and fish a bit more. 
When you’re out of sight, Arthur sits down on a boulder. “What is the matter with me? Ya think a miserable outlaw like myself would learn. Morgan, you have the world’s best record of bein’ the biggest fool.” 
He sits there for some time, arguing with himself. He can’t love you, but he can’t help being in love. A voice in his head asks what’s the worst that could happen by just letting himself feel what he’s already feeling for you. He argues back by using Mary and Eliza as examples. 
“But she isn’t Eliza or Mary,” the voice says. “She’s Y/N and in completely different circumstances than they were. She knows how to protect herself, she’s been robbed and shot at before and came out alive in all those situations.”
“No no no,” he says. “She’ll come to realize I’m a fool like Mary did. I’ll mess things up and she’ll hate me for it.” 
“She already knows you’re a fool. She’s seen your crazy side, she knows how scary you can get. More than once, in fact, and she’s still around isn’t she? Mary saw that side one time and she ran off running. Y/N’s different. Never once has she asked you to change or to control yourself.” 
“It’s a dumb move!” Arthur says. “I ain’t in love with her nor am I ever gonna be in love with her! She deserves someone better.” 
The voice is a bit quieter this time. “It seems like it’s too late for her. You saw the way she looked at you in Tall Trees. She’s already got it for you.” 
“Well, she’s a bigger fool than I thought for doin’ that.” 
“No doubt. But if you leave her like this, she’s not going to wait around forever. She doesn’t deserve that either.” 
Arthur sighs. He knows you don’t deserve him playing you the way he’s been lately. “Well fine,” he says to the voice in his head. “I love her. I love Y/N, but I ain’t sayin’ it out loud.” 
********************************************
Night has fallen and you and Arthur are sat around the campfire again, nestled in Big Valley. You’re leaning your head against his shoulder once more like you did the night before. Arthur’s arguing with himself again. He knows he loves you but he’s still unsure if he should act on it. To act on it would be to admit it. 
“Arthur?” you say, breaking him out of his thoughts. 
“Hmm?” 
“Thank you again for today. I… can I tell you something?” 
“Of course.” 
“I’ve been real sad lately. Don’t know why, but my brain keeps telling me I’m a burden on everyone, I’m merely tolerated. But going back to that lake helped me feel centered again. Like going home. I know that doesn’t make any sense.” 
He smiles a bit. “No it makes perfect sense. And for the record: you ain’t a burden or tolerated. People in camp like you, darlin’. You should hear Jack tell his mama about your stories. Sounds like you been helpin’ Mary-Beth too. And you were the first person to get Karen to stop drinkin’ the other day. Can’t tell you how long we been tryin’ to help her quit.” 
“Really?” you ask, looking up at him. “And… and what about you? I know you only took me out today because you heard I needed a pick-me-up.” 
“No, no that ain’t the reason,” he says. “I didn’t know you needed help until we were away from camp. Like I said, you ain’t a burden. You work hard, I see that in camp. Work as hard as anyone else and eight times as much as Uncle.” 
You giggle a bit.
“Point is, me and everyone else who counts sees how much you work in camp. We notice. I know we don’t voice our appreciations, especially ol’ Grimshaw, but it doesn’t mean we don’t see it.” 
You surprise him by grabbing the hand on his knee and squeezing it lightly. He knows at this moment he can’t hold back any longer. He withdraws his hand and your heart sinks. You’ve crossed a line. You’re about to pull away from his shoulder until you feel him shifting himself and his hand winds over your hip. He pulls you into his lap and you settle your head on his chest. 
Arthur’s heart pounds hard in your ears. He’s wanted to do this for so long with you, imagined doing this. He’s held women like this to him before so he knows what it feels like, but this is different. You’re different. You fit against him like a puzzle piece, perfectly molded to him. You’re warm and it feels so good the way you wrap your arms around him. He kisses your hairline and settles his chin to your forehead. 
After a few moments, he feels you place a soft kiss to his chest. It makes him smile and he holds you tighter. 
“Arthur?” you say, looking up at him.
“Hmm?” 
“I think I love you,” you say quietly. He swallows heavily. “Well I hope so. Because… I know I love you.” 
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thesparkinthefire · 5 years
Text
Ghost - Pedro Pascal x Reader
A/N: I have a one and a half hour breakfast break because my company does not know how to plan, so I thought I might as well upload this now. I am uploading it through my phone and don't know how to proper edit on tumblr so this might look like a mess. English is also not my first language and I never wrote in it before - please point out any mistakes I might have made. I think this is part one of two.
Word count: 1,997
Paaring: Pedro Pascal crushing on musical!Reader ft. Oscar Isaac
Trigger Warning: age gap mentioned, a lot of jealousy
"Though my heart is broken, it keeps breaking every day." - With You, the Ghost cast album
Pedro didn't hate Oscar. It was quiet the opposite – that guy was his best friend. His amigo in the US of A and the wild life of Hollywood. Working with him on Triple Frontier was a dream come true and felt more like a guys-trip than work most of the time. Both of them were part of the Star Wars universe and if it somehow would have been possible they would love for their characters to meet just to work together a little more.
No, Pedro didn't hate Oscar. Except for two things.
First being that one time when he gave him a Wet Willy during that interview when they were answering questions people seem to type into Google – he still cringed whenever he thought back.
The second thing were you. Not exactly you-you because you did absolutely nothing wrong, but for Oscar's relationship with you. 
What an irony, that Pedro had introduced the both of you. You were a young actress from Europe and after you blew up because of your role in a teen-romance movie you were his partner on the second season of The Mandalorian. Your character had been a fan favourite, came into the show half way through the season and was set to stay at least for a few more episodes in the third season.
You were younger than him. A lot. But that had never bothered you. In every interview you had you were asked how working with “an experienced actor like Pedro Pascal” was like – which he found a little offensive, he might have a little lower back-pain but he wasn't that old – you smiled and answered that age was only a number and you two got along very well. And he was more than glad that you saw it that way.
To claim that he had never crushed on one of the actresses he had acted romance with would simply be a lie, but he was a professional. He never told anyone if he did and he did his best at keeping it a secret and not letting his feelings dominate his brain. But it was different with you. The moment he first saw you he thanked god that you had gotten the role. You were stunning in your very own way. Always kind to everybody – it didn't matter whether you were talking to him, the director or the clumsy intern. You always brought yourself to smile in the morning even though getting up early was like torture to you. You stayed focused on set, even when your nerves were killing you. Having a bad day was tough but you always acted kind and polite. You were perfect. In every possible way. Acting romance was the main job for the two of you and that wasn't only hard because he was wearing Din's helmet all the time. No, the problem was that he wasn't acting. He fell madly in love with you. It wasn't even your character. You were just so damn perfect.
You met a bunch of times outside of work, after the second season had aired and press tour had been wrapped. You got along so perfectly well that he sometimes had to ask himself, if he wasn't being too obvious. Maybe he was. But you never told him to step back or just didn't notice it. You should have noticed it by the time he asked you, what you were doing for Christmas. “Probably watching Netflix,” you had answered. “I am not going home until the new year and, yeah, everyone else is with their families.”
“You could join me,” Pedro had said before his mind had really processed the words you had said. “I mean- I am having dinner with a bunch of friends and, yes, we don't have a no-girls rule and you could join me. Us.” He had never seen something as beautiful as you when your eyes lit up in that moment. You happily accepted. That's how you met Oscar Isaac. Pedro's best friend, who he had never hated as much as in the moment when you were kissing him.
Oscar and you had a lot in common. You both loved Star Wars and were more than happy to discus every single theory about Finnpoe, Din Djaren and your character, the Skywalkers and Baby Yoda – just like you and him had so many times before. You both started by playing theatre – just like he did. You learned Spanish when you were still in school and tried your best to hold simple conversations with Oscar while he tried to teach you more – just like Pedro had. The thing that really connected the both of you and that made Pedro feel invisible were musicals. Sure, he had seen a few but singing was just not his thing. Oscar and you, on the other hand spent hours talking about the motifs in Hamilton, the fate of Gleb in Anastasia, the musical adaption of Heathers, the movie adaption of Cats and the harmonies in Dear Evan Hansen. Pedro loved listening to you. You were the most beautiful when you were talking about something you were as passionate about as musicals. You whole face lit up and you started talking with your hands. As much as he loved it, he hated it. Because it wasn't him you were talking with but mainly Oscar. You both loved singing and sooner or later ended up with his guitar, when the three of you were meeting at Oscar's house, or at your piano, when you were in your apartment. Pedro didn't dare to imagine how many hours you had spent in togetherness singing and acting out scenes. Fuck's sake he shouldn't – Oscar was married after all.
The year after you met some genius decided to bring the musical Ghost to California for a four week run and thought that no couple would be a better fit than Oscar and you. That was solely a PR-gig because the same director was about to host a bigger play the month after the run, but Oscar still accepted. So did you. And that hurt Pedro so much.
You had been doing a few musicals before you blew up as an actress and were just perfect for the role for Molly but Oscar, god, out of all people. He didn't know if he could handle seeing the you being in love. Even if it was just on stage.
The day Oscar and you accepted the part the three of you met up and watched the movie the musical was based on. You were crying half of the time and Oscar was visibly touched too but Pedro hated it. Maybe only because of the thought of you kissing his best friend for at least four weeks – rehearsals additional. He watched you from the corner of his eye and when he saw Oscar lean in you direction, he quickly wrapped his arm around you and pulled you in. “You are truly a crybaby,” he mumbled and handed you another tissue. For an hour the world was perfect – you, cuddled into his side while watching a romance.
But it soon got back to the cruel reality when Oscar decided, after the movie ended, the best way to cheer you up was singing Unchained Melody to you.
And now he was standing in the doorway to your rehearsal room in the theatre that you had stared working in a week ago, looking at you somewhat between sitting and laying on the orange couch and Oscar above you. Kissing you. Hands roaming over your body, under your shirt, moving it up. It was like looking at an accident – he didn't want to watch because it horrified him, but at the same time he couldn't look away. His heart was crushing, breaking. And the worst thing was, that the first thing that crossed his mind wasn't, that Oscar is a married man.
“Okay, wait,” you said, pushing him away from you. “Is it weird when I do that?”
“What?”
“That.” You tapped against his side, which was turned away from Pedro.
“Normally not but the audience can't see that because that side of us is turned to the back of the stage.”
Fuck.
That was a stage kiss. You were practising. That was all part of the rehearsal. Oscar wasn't cheating on his wife and you weren't... well, you weren't doing anything at all because Pedro had never made the god damn move of asking you out. It had been almost a year since he first met you at the table reading for the second Mandalorian season and he never said anything. Why did he never say anything? He was such an idiot. He could have slapped himself, hit his head against the next wall. What the fuck was holding him back?
“Hey Pedro! Didn't hear you coming.” Your voice brought him back to reality. Oscar moved off of you and you sat back up again. God, he had been starring. He had definitely been starring.
“Todo esta bien, amigo?”, Oscar asked.
“Yeah... Yeah, sure. I am just not feeling well.” That was an understatement. He was feeling sick. Fucking sick. He couldn't wait for the premiere. You would be so happy and excited while the knot in his throat was growing minute by minute until he was forced to sit through two hours of you and his best friend being in love. Usually he was good at separating the human from the role they were playing but somehow it was not possible for him this time. His brain couldn't and it made him mad and sad at the same time because he wanted to be happy for you. Ghost was a musical you were talking about before. It was possibly a dream come true and a huge opportunity to be selected for the leading role and he should be happy for you. He wanted to support you and his best friend on their project and give them the acting advice, they asked him for – that's why he even came here – but his heart wanted him to turn around and walk right out the door and never come back. Maybe even drink to get the images out of his head. They were nightmare material to him.
“Well, don't get us sick. We only have two more weeks until the premiere.”
“I will let you know once I know how to control sickness,” he snapped back a bit harsher than the wanted to. That's what it was. Sickness. A virus. Jealousy was poisoning his heart.
All he wanted was to be there for you. Because he knew how anxious premiers made you. Everyone kept asking you about how you were doing and you always smiled and said that you were just as nervous as everybody working on the production but that wasn't the full truth. Pedro saw it in the way your smile faded for a split second, once the question was asked. He noticed it when you took longer and longer to reply to his messages. He noticed, that you were a little more quiet than usual when you were out for dinner. Stress-crying was a thing you did and he would bet that you had already have a few breakdowns.
He wanted nothing more than to comfort you. To pull you in a tight hug, kiss your head and tell you that everything will turn out just fine, because you were gorgeous in every way possible. You were intelligent and strong and beautiful – simply amazing. Why did he never ask you out? It was way too late to do it now, wasn't it? You had grown to be something like best friends and best friends don't date each other.
He had shoot his shot.
And you would never be his.
Part two
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intoanothermind · 4 years
Text
The Glue - Part Two
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T H E   G L U E
Word Count: 1.9k words
Synopsis: Glue or Variable? This is the big question about Frankie’s existence. Assigned to the same role as Newt in WCKD’s Lethal Experiments, Frankie suddenly realizes that she will become just a variable to activate brain reactions in her former Group A friends. Without memories and being the only girl among several boys, she has the feeling of already knowing some of them. The new question that matters to WCKD is: will Frankie play her role as a variable correctly?
- Newt x OC (Frankie)
Masterlist
<Part 1 | Part 3>
(This will be a miniseries of Newt from Maze Runner. It will consist of 7 parts and a spin-off. I won’t do a reader insert as usual, but you will soon understand why.)
P A R T   T W O
The girl, at the age of three, was shaking in her small body. She looked around scared; to the white room where she was, to the technology around her, to the other children on her right and left - as scared as she was - and to the people in lab coats. Not only had she been snatched from her mother's arms, she was still required to act as a guinea pig for a bunch of scientists who were working hard to find a cure for The Flare - even if she didn't know what that meant yet.
One woman stood out from the group of scientists stepping forward. She was tall and blond, her tired expression making clear the hard work she'd been doing.
“From now on, your life will no longer be the same.” She said, her voice cold and steady, spreading through the room. “You will have new names and new goals, all aimed at the search for healing.”
Meanwhile, a man in a lab coat passed by the children, whispering something to them and then jotting it down on a clipboard. When he reached the girl, her heart was racing.
“Your name will be Rosalind Franklin, in reference to the biophysics crucial to DNA knowledge.” He wrote something down on the drawing board shortly afterwards and moved on while the little girl was still paralyzed with terror.
When everyone was nominated, the blonde woman spoke again.
“Now everything will change. But always remember: WICKED is good.”
The girl instinctively held the boy's hand to her right. When she realized it she felt embarrassed and thought about letting go, but the boy wouldn't allow it. She looked at him - his blond hair falling over his forehead and his brown eyes staring at her - and remembered the name that had been whispered to him and she had been able to hear: Isaac Newton.
~ * ~
“Hey, Frypan!” Newt shouted as he approached what, by appearance and smell, I assumed was their kitchen.
It was small, but seemed to have what it needed to make a good meal. A large stove, a microwave, a dishwasher, two tables. It looked old and worn, but clean. A rather plump boy with a leather apron appeared smiling.
“Hey, Newt!” greeted the boy. “Minho!”
“Is there anything there for the Newbie?” Newt asked, nodding at me.
I blushed and bit my lower lip.
“Ah, yes, the troublemaker Shebean!” Exclaimed Frypan and, despite the roughness of the words, I noticed a sympathetic smile on his lips.
“I'm not a troublemaker.” I muttered, frowning.
“Oh sure, because you don't even have your hand on the machete as if you would rip off the arm of whoever dared to touch you!” Minho commented sarcastically, with an arched eyebrow.
I looked down and realized he was right. I jerked my hand away from the handle as if it had shocked me. The boys laughed.
“Well, I only cook for this bunch of klunks, but I must have something here for you, Shebean.” Said Frypan, walking away.
“What is klunk?” I asked, confused, to Newt and Minho.
Minho scowled. "Believe me, you don't want to know, Shebean!"
I rolled my eyes as Newt laughed at me.
“Here, Newbie!” Exclaimed Frypan, approaching again, a plate in his hands and a smile on his face.
“Don't call me that, I have a name.” I muttered, taking the plate he was offering.
Minho and Frypan arched an eyebrow, as if daring me to say my name.
“Frankie.” I said, and they frowned. “My name: Frankie.”
They grinned, all of them, and Newt put a hand on my shoulder, which sent electric currents all over my body.
"Welcome to the Glade, Frankie."
~ * ~
"Why didn't you say it hurt before?" Newt asked once more, frowning and the worried glint in his brown eyes.
I bit my lip when the med-jack who took care of my arm pulled the bandage tightly on my forearm.
“Because it didn't matter.” I said, looking away from his intense gaze. The med-jack has finished his work and smiles slightly in thanks. "Thanks ... Jeff, right?" I ventured, and earned a smile in confirmation.
“That's right, Shebean.” He said, and I held back not to roll my eyes, but Newt didn't hold back the laugh. "It won't infect or anything, so you don't have to worry."
I smiled again, rising from my chair in the middle of the Homestead. “Thanks again, Jeff.”
“You're welcome, Shebean!”
"Will you never stop calling me that?" I muttered as I left Homestead with Newt by my side.
The Homestead was nothing but wood. The door was a crazy and even creative replacement for a dark, sun-beaten wooden slate. Crooked stairs, twisted stairs and railings in all directions, and the walls were covered with dark paper, but already worn at some points. Nothing at the Homestead seemed inviting - it seemed haunted, if you want to know the truth - but I had to admit that, despite everything, those boys did a good job.
"Maybe next month, when a new unlucky slinthead arrives in the box." Newt said, pointing to the elevator I came from. Or where he would be if the Box hadn't come down again. "Or not ... You'll always be the first Shebean in here, Frankie."
For some reason, I smiled.
“I like it when you call me Frankie.” I blurted out, and my cheeks flushed immediately.
"But I'd rather call you Greenie." He said, smiling mischievously.
I widened my eyes, gaping.
“The audacity!” I exclaimed jokingly and punched him weakly in the arm.
Newt laughed, hugging me by the shoulders. I smiled wistfully, feeling the familiarity, the confidence, and the security he conveyed to me hitting me full in the chest.
“Why do I feel like I know you?” He asked, stopping suddenly and stepping in front of me.
I had the impression that my eyes looked bigger than they really were. I was surprised and scared. I had thought that the feeling of familiarity had come only from me. But no! Newt was there, right in front of me, saying that he also felt he knew me.
I opened my mouth at least twice before giving him any concrete answer.
"What if I said I feel the same way?" I said, smirking, his head slightly bowed in shame.
Then I felt Newt's fingers under my chin, lifting my face so that I could look him in the eye. Brown eyes so deep and intense I felt unable to look away. His eyes held mine like a magnet, and when I realized he was slowly approaching. I could have ran away, but one thing I noticed when his nose brushed mine was that I didn't want to run away. I realized that from the moment I laid eyes on Newt still in the Box, running would never become an option for me. I smiled to feel our breaths merging and our lips had the first contact, even if only one brush. I felt Newt's hands migrating to my waist and tightened my shirt over his shoulders.
I surpassed the inch that separated us the moment a loud crash rumbled through the Glade, followed by the harsh, slurred sound. I walked away from Newt quickly, confused and scared, until I located the source of the noise. I noticed that the walls closed, really closed. We were close to one of the openings, which seemed to be about twenty feet wide. On the left side, deep holes several inches in diameter, the space would be almost six meters long and carved into the stone, starting at the ground and continuing upward. On the right side, 30 centimeters wide bars protruded from the edge of the wall, also several centimeters in diameter, on the same pattern as the holes on the other side.
And at that moment they would play their part.
The huge wall of stone slid across the earth, scattering sparks and dust as they beat stone to stone. The right wall reached the end of its path, its bars finding their mark and entering unhindered, the echo of an explosion echoing in the clearing as the four openings were closed at night.
“Newt.” I muttered, tugging at his shirt sleeve. He still didn't look at me, keeping his gaze fixed on the opening that had just closed, but took his other hand in mine, squeezing it lightly. “What was that?” I asked, afraid I would get an answer or not.
"It was the doors closing, like every night." said Newt, lowering his head slightly before turning to me with a reassuring smile that even then , I did not feel to be real. "We'd better get you a hammock." Must be tired and is too klunk to assimilate.
Even if I didn't feel tiredness overwhelming me, I knew that sooner or later Newt would be right. So I just agreed to just go. We soon found a short, plump little boy who seemed to be the youngest of them all. He looked playful, and that pleased me almost immediately, as was Newt. Perhaps the most annoying, but certainly the most intelligent. The curls fell over his face, and every time he tried to push it away, I insisted he looked cute.
“Hey, Chuck!” Exclaimed Newt, smiling at the smaller one. "Can you get a sleeping bag for Frankie?" Chuck just listened and already went looking for one .
I smiled again when I heard my name on Newt's lips.
“Here it is, Newt.” Replied the boy, panting, Chuck. “Hello, Newbie.”
“Hello, Chuck.” I said, smiling friendly. I knew I would have to get used to them by calling me negative names. And I was starting to not care about that.
“Where do you want to sleep?” Asked Newt.
“You can keep me company, it's not like me to have many friends here.” Suggested Chuck sadly.
I looked around, seeing that most of the boys chose to sleep on a lawn near the gardens. I bit my front lip, going over my options. Until a few boys nearby waved perversely, and I had no idea how I could handle it until overnight. I chose to decline Chuck's offer.
“Far away, please.” I asked in a whisper, and Newt seemed to realize what I was thinking, and it was only a matter of time before the other boys messed with me. Boys were weird. "But I promise I'll sleep with you some other day." I assured Chuck just before we left.
Newt walked with me to the edge of the woods there, and I took shelter in the by a tree. I hoped that nothing unusual like a rain would happen.
“Don't worry, Frankie.” Newt said, smiling slightly and with his hand on my shoulder. "I wish you were going to the Homestead, but it's only for the Keepers and there's not enough room for everyone. But I'll try to talk to Alby and see if the opportunity arises for you to go there.”
I smiled in thanks, and he was about to turn to the Homestead when I held his wrist. Newt looks at me intrigued, and I took a deep breath.
“Thank you, Newt.” I whispered, truly grateful.
Newt smiled, that smile that melted me and made me want to smile along. He approached me and placed a kiss on my cheek, incredibly close to my mouth.
“You're welcome, Frankie.”
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