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foreverisntenough · 2 months ago

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--------- My tiny one shot below for you 🤍

'Marshmallows*'

3.2k words | Trent Alexander-Arnold x Reader | Warning: Smut! MDNI

↳ You're watching a film in the cinema with your kids when your baby Tate asks for hot chocolate. Whilst looking for marshmallows in your pantry Trent joins you to help but more things happen than just finding the sweet.

Other ForeverIsntEnough One Shots

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It was one of those perfect winter nights where everything felt wrapped in a blanket of warmth, despite the biting chill outside. The cinema was dimly lit, the only light coming from the glow of the television and the flickering flames from the fireplace. The cozy crackle of the fire added to the comfort of the room, while the soft murmur of the movie kept everyone’s attention, each child lost in their own little world of blankets and pillows.

Teddy, just had turned seven years old, had nestled herself beside Marcel, giggling at something he whispered to her. They both looked so content, her little legs curled under her, Marcel leaned in as if he was her age, completely involved in whatever silly joke they shared. On the floor, Theo and Tyde were sprawled out, blankets half on, half off, their eyes glued to the screen. Tyde was almost falling asleep, his eyelids growing heavier by the minute, while Theo, as always, had a little extra energy, kicking his legs absentmindedly as he watched the movie. Tate, your baby boy, was tucked into your lap, wrapped in the softness of your embrace and the thick blanket you had pulled over both of you. His freshly braided hair smelled sweet as you kissed the top of his head. He wiggled a little, getting comfortable, and then looked up at you with those big, doe eyes—the same ones his daddy had.

"Mama… I have hot chocklate, pleabs?" he asked in the softest voice, his words gentle and full of that innocence only he could have. Before you could answer, Theo piped up from the floor, raising his hand like he was in school.

"Can I have some too, Mummy?" He asked, his eyes mirroring Trent’s just like Tates. You chuckled softly, realizing you were now on the hook for not one but multiple cups of hot chocolate. You glanced around the room, sure enough, Teddy was giving you a hopeful look, her eyes just the same. Even Marcel, with a mischievous grin, was watching you with raised eyebrows, acting as if he was one of them. You shook your head in amusement.

"With mellows mama, pleabs." Tyde yawned rolling dramtically onto his side.

"I suppose I’m making hot chocolate for everyone, huh?" you said, laughing as you ran your hand over Tate’s hair gently. Trent, who had been watching you with that same soft smile he always wore when he looked at his family, sat up a little and turned to the room.

"Okay, okay, everybody, what do we say?" His voice was playful but firm, encouraging a chorus of manners. In unison, all of your babies chimed in—Teddy, Theo, and even little Tyde who was starting to doze off—"Thank you, Mummy!" You let your eyes flutter closed appreciating the fact that your babies were using their manners. Marcel echoed a ‘Thank you, Mummy’ of his own in an exaggerated tone, causing the kids to burst out in giggles.

"Alright, alright," you said with a grin, untangling yourself gently from Tate’s little body as you prepared to get up. "Seven cups of hot chocolate it is." You rolled your eyes affectionately, feeling the warmth of their gratitude and the lightheartedness filling the room. But before you could full get up, Trent slid over from his spot on the sofa, taking your hand and pulling you back down gently, his eyes twinkling with that familiar playfulness.

"Let me help, beautiful. You’re not doing this all by yourself." He planted a quick kiss on your cheek after speaking. You shook your head rejecting him cupping his face and kissing his forehead before kissing Tates. When you had made it to the kitchen, you found yourself feeling a bit stuck as you searched the pantry for the marshmallows that were requested. As you began feeling more and more flustered that you couldn't find them, Trent quietly slipped in behind you. His presence was comforting as always, and when you turned to tell him you had it covered, your pout gave away how frustrated you really were. Trent saw right through it, a soft smile tugging at his lips.

"Can't find something, hmm?" he asked, his voice low, but there was a teasing glint in his eyes. As you rummaged through the pantry, searching for marshmallows that if you couldn’t find would without a doubt stir up questions from the four, no probably five kids back in the cinema. Trent’s voice sent a shiver down your spine as he leant casually against the pantry door, his frame filling the space with a seductive presence. His brown eyes sparkling with mischief, and a playful smile plays on his tanned, handsome face. You couldn’t help but feel a surge of desire as his intense gaze travels down your body, taking in your own figure.

"Just these pesky marshmallows," you replied with a sigh feigning a deeper frustration because at the moment you were mildly relishing the opportunity to spend some time alone with him. "Tyde asked and now they seem to have vanished into thin air. I swear, the marshmallows were here last week." You huffed playfully. He chuckled, stepping closer, and before you could protest, you heard the quiet click of the pantry door locking behind him. Your eyes widened in surprise, and you turned to face him fully. "T," you whispered, a laugh escaping your lips as you glanced at the door. "What are you doing?" You asked. It really was his plan to come and help but the way your body was stretched reaching up to shelves, the way your t shirt clung to your body, the whole thing was sexier than he anticipated. He didn't answer right away. Instead, he slid his arms around your waist and pulled you flush against him, his body warm, strong, and familiar. His eyes twinkled with that mischievous look that always made your heart race, even after all these years.

"You work too hard," he murmured, his lips brushing your forehead, sending a shiver down your spine. "Making hot chocolate for seven people... trying to keep everything perfect." His hands gently traced down to the small of your back, holding you close as his voice softened. "I just want to make sure you're okay, too." You smiled up at him, feeling the warmth of his embrace, but there was something more in his gaze tonight-something playful. He leaned down, his lips ghosting over yours in a way that made your heart skip a beat. His voice was lower now, huskier. "Maybe I can help you find those marshmallows..."

"Oh, is that what this is about?" you teased, but your hands instinctively found their way to his chest, your fingers lightly tracing the lines of his muscles. You laughed softly, shaking your head.

"Maybe," he whispered, his lips barely brushing against yours. Trent grinned, one hand sliding up your back, his fingers tangling in your hair. "Or maybe it's about making sure you know how much I love you." The pantry felt like a world away from the cozy chaos of the cinema as the moment between you deepened. For a second, you forgot about the hot chocolate, the kids, and the fact that you were in a pantry. Trent had a way of making everything else fade away when he looked at you like that. Your breath caught as he leaned in, finally closing the small gap between you, his lips capturing yours in a slow, lingering kiss. His touch was gentle, but there was an undeniable intensity in the way he held you, like he couldn't get enough. When he pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, his forehead rested against yours. “You're so amazing, you know that?" He whispered. You smiled, feeling your heart swell with love for this man.

"I'm just trying to keep up," you said softly. He kissed you again, this time a little longer, a little deeper, making your knees weak. When he finally let go, his lips curled into that signature playful grin.

"Well, I think I just found what you were looking for," he said, glancing behind you. You turned, expecting to see the marshmallows, but instead, your eyes landed on nothing. You glanced back at him, confused, but Trent's grin only widened. "Not the marshmallows, beautiful.” He clarified, pulling you back into his arms. "You." You laughed, swatting his chest playfully.

“I’ll feel so bad if I can’t find them.” You pouted feeling defeated.

“I might have a solution to make you feel better," Trent said, his voice dropping an octave, sending a delicious thrill through your body. With a swift movement, he stepped into you further, closing the distance between your bodies that had opened up. His hands gently cupped your cheeks, and he leant in again, his warm breath tickling your ear. "Let me take care of you, right here, right now." Your heart pounded in anticipation as Trent’s words send a rush of heat between your thighs. You'd always been a sucker for his cheeky charm and his insatiable appetite for pleasure. The idea of being taken by him in this very moment, in this intimate space, ignited a fire within you. Suddenly you found yourself in a rare moment of alone time and you were more than happy to take advantage of.

"Oh, really?" you manage to whisper, your voice hoarse with desire. "And what did you have in mind, T, baby?” You smirked. Trent’s hands slide down your neck, tracing the sensitive skin, making you shiver.

"Something hot, just for us," he murmured, his lips brushing against your earlobe, sending electric shocks through your body. "Something to make you forget all about those marshmallows." Without waiting for a response, he lifted your top, his warm hands gliding over your bare skin, cupping your heavy breasts, thumbs teasing your hardening nipples through the lace of your bra. "You feel so fucking good," he growls, his breath was hot on your neck as he kneaded and squeezed your sensitive flesh. "I love how responsive you still are to my touch, baby.” Trent cooed.

"Please, T," you begged, your voice breathless. "I need more." You moaned softly, arching into his touch, your hands reaching back to grip his strong back, urging him closer. In response, he unhooked your bra with nimble fingers, freeing your tits. He bent down, taking a taut nipple into his warm mouth, sucking and teasing it with his tongue, while his hands continued to explore your body, stroking and caressing your sensitive skin. Trent turned you around, pressing your body against the pantry shelves, the various packages and boxes digging slightly into your front momentarily, adding a delicious pinch of pain to the growing pleasure.

"You're so wet f’me already," he whispered against your skin, his fingers dipping beneath the waistband of your joggers, stroking your moist folds through the thin fabric of your panties. "I can feel how much you want me. Have you been thinking about me, baby?” He mused.

"Yeah, baby, I need you. Miss you so much," you gasped, your head falling back against his shoulder as his skilled fingers found your aching clit, circling and rubbing it through the damp material. "I want you so bad. Please fuck me, right here, right now." He chuckled, the vibrations of his laughter against your skin sent shivers down your spine.

"Whatever you want, whenever you want, I’m always yours.” He said, his voice thick with desire. With a swift motion, he pulled your joggers down your legs, along with your soaked panties, leaving you completely exposed to his hungry gaze. He stept back, taking in the sight of your naked body, his eyes dark with need. "God, my fucking wife is so fucking sexy," he rasped, his eyes roaming over your curves. "Absolutely fucking perfect." You felt a surge of confidence as his words fueled your desire. Reaching down, you grasped his hard length through his pants, stroking him through the fabric, making him hiss in pleasure.

"I want you inside me, T," you demanded, your voice confident and filled with lust. "Now, baby." You whined. Trent didn’t need to be told twice. He quickly shed his clothes, revealing his muscular body and straining erection. He positioned himself behind you, his hands gripping your hips, and in one smooth thrust, he filled you completely, his thick cock stretching you deliciously in the most pleasurable pain. You were dripping wet but you also had to make this marginally faster than you probably would’ve liked. You were meant to be making hot chocolate after all. Trent let out labored breaths and a chuckle placing his hand over your mouth as you cried out, overwhelmed by the sensation of Trent beginning to fuck into you.

"Oh, fuck…" you mumbled into his palm, pushing back against him, taking him even deeper. Trent set a relentless pace, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he drove into you, his balls slapping against your sensitive flesh with each powerful stroke. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the pantry, mingling with your muffled moans and cries of pleasure into his hand.

"You love this, don't you, baby?" he grunted, his breath hot on your neck as he pounded into you. "Always my dirty girl, taking my cock so well." He grunted, removing his hand from your lips sliding it to your front to tug on your nipple, making you shiver.

"Yeah, Please, please, please.” you chanted, your body on fire, every nerve ending singing with pleasure. "Harder, T, fuck me harder!" You begged him. You and Trent still got to have sex often but moments like this where you got to sneak around and feel like kids again were perfection and just flat out sexy. Trent oobliged, his hands tightening on your hips, his thrusts becoming more urgent, more primal. You could feel your orgasm building, a delicious pressure coiling low in your belly. "I'm gonna come, T!" you whined, your voice hoarse with need.

"Be a good girl f’me and cum on my cock baby." Trent grunted letting his hand glide down your body, his fingers finding your swollen clit, rubbing it in perfect rhythm with his thrusts. The combination of his cock pounding into your pussy and his fingers working your clit pushed you over the edge. You cried out, your body convulsing around his shaft as you climaxed, your juices flowing freely, coating his cock with your essence. Trent followed you into the abyss, his own release building rapidly.

"Fuck, baby… gonna make me cum squeezing me like that. Ah… fuck I’m cumming, baby.” He moaned, his hips snapping forward one last time as he emptied his load deep inside you, filling you with his hot cum. Breathless and spent, you both lean against each other, your hearts racing and your bodies glistening with a slight sheen of sweat. Trent planted a tender kiss on your shoulder, his breath still ragged. "I think we found something much better than marshmallows, yeah?" he said, his voice filled with satisfaction and a sweet laugh.

"Much… Much… better, my T," you cooed, turning in his arms to kiss him deeply. "I'd choose this any day." You giggled, a contented glow spreading through your body. He wrapped his arms tighter around you, swaying you back and forth as he glanced around, finally spotting the marshmallows on a high shelf, out of your reach. He let go of you with one of his arms, reaching up to them easily, holding them out to you with a grin.

"Told you l'd find them. Orgasm and marshmallows lucky you." He winked with a laugh that sent an ache through your heart. He was always perfect for you whether it was finding marshmallows for your babies or if it was making you cum on his cock, he was ever perfect. You rolled your eyes affectionately, grabbing the marshmallows.

“Lucky me.” You giggled. “You always are right, huh?” You smiled leaving the pantry. Trent leaned against the kitchen counter as you gathered the cocoa mix, milk, and mugs. He watched you with that familiar look, his admiration for you evident in the way his eyes followed your every move.

"You know," he said softly, "you make this whole mum thing look so sexy and effortless." He cooed watching you.

"Not at all, but I appreciate you saying it." You warmly smiled at him, shaking your head. He stepped closer, his arms wrapping around your waist from behind, pulling you close again.

"I mean it," he whispered into your ear. "I don’t know how you do it, but our kids adore you. I adore you." You leaned back into him, closing your eyes for a moment, feeling the strength of his embrace.

"Well, I couldn’t do any of it without you." He kissed your temple softly before pulling away to help with the milk on the stove. The two of you worked in perfect rhythm, your years of partnership evident in how naturally you moved together. Soon, the rich scent of cocoa filled the kitchen, and you smiled, knowing how much your little ones would love it. As you both returned to the cinema your kids plus Marcel eagerly awaited their hot chocolates, unaware of the stolen moment you'd shared.

“You took too long, Mummy,” Theo complained in a huff, making you laugh as you carefully handed out the mugs of hot chocolate, as he narrowed his eyes at you and grinned.

“Sorry, Tio baby. I needed Daddy’s help.” You smiled apologetically, giving him a playful shrug.

“Did you say thank you to Dada?” Teddy, never missing a beat, tilted her head thoughtfully and asked before flashing to Tate and Tyde. Her innocent eyes wide with curiosity but also a proud glint in them trying to make a point to her younger brothers. Teddy really dove into her roll as the oldest and being a big sister. You bit your lip, holding back a smug grin.

“I did,” you said, glancing at Trent with a knowing look. He smirked and, in that calm, easy way of his, picked Tate up from Teddy’s lap and settled him into his own arms.

“Mummy definitely did,” he added with a wink, causing you to stifle a giggle. Marcel, who had been observing the scene from the the side of the couch with Teddy, raised an eyebrow and made a dramatic face of mock disgust.

“Who knew hot chocolate took half an hour,” he said, shaking his head, “I bet mummy and daddy can do a lot of things in half an hour.” He muttered out with a chuckle. Trent threw a pillow at him. You both laughed as you nestled back onto the couch next to Trent, his arm wrapping around your shoulders as you leaned into him. Tate immediately crawled back into your lap, his little arms wrapped around you. You helped Tate with his hot cocoa, blowing gently on the top to make sure it wasn’t too hot for him. Tate looked up at you with his big puppy dog eyes, and you kissed the top of his head, the warmth of the moment wrapping around you like the thickest, softest blanket. As Trent leaned over to kiss your cheek, you took the opportunity to whisper into his ear.

“I’ll say thank you again tonight.” You cooed, your voice teasing and soft. His eyes darkened for just a second, his lips twitching into a smile.

“I’ll hold you to that.” He whispered. The kids were oblivious, focused on their hot chocolate and the film continuing to play in the background, but you and Trent shared that quiet, intimate moment—connected, even in the midst of the joyful chaos around you.

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#trent alexander arnold #trent alexander arnold x reader #trent alexander arnold imagines

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auspicious-manner · 1 year ago

Note

welcome back! just some simple domestic fluff with mike faist and famous reader! get to this whenever you feel like it! lots of love<3

thank you for the kindness! <3

i’ve missed writing for mike! also have you guys seen the new challengers trailer AHHHHH IM SO EXCITED IT LOOKS SO GOOD!!! i have a few challengers themed mike stories in my inbox/drafts, so expect those somewhat soon ;)

also it’s been a long time since i’ve written a fluff fic, so sorry if this sucks lol

fem reader x mike faist

warnings: anxiety and mentions of depression

Worthy

•

you loved nearly everything about your life. being an actress, singer, and now a writer has given you more confidence than anything else.

you started as an actress. ever since you were little, you would put on shows for your entire family with costumes and scripts. they weren’t simple either; you would perform full dramatic monologues, emotional scenes, and romantic moments with your stuffed animals. your mom didn’t have to hesitate putting you into acting classes.

into your teen years, you booked commercials and small roles in children’s shows. then, right when you turned eighteen, you got your big break when you gained a major role in a movie alongside some of hollywood’s biggest stars, directed by none other than steven spielberg.

from there, business offers and acting gigs flew in. everything seemed to be happening all at once. it was all so overwhelming. but fame is what you wanted, right?

that’s what you thought, at least. as a child, you glamorized the picturesque hollywood starlight life. you wanted everything from the glitz to the glam. you didn’t realize that being famous came with this sense of dread that one wrong move could end your entire career. you felt unworthy of being in the spotlight all the time. so, in order to keep those intrusive thoughts from rearing their ugly heads, you kept so busy that not even a single thought could even cross your mind.

you knew you could sing, and you began writing songs and releasing music. you even went on a north american tour. then, when the tour slowed down, you wrote a novel. you kept so busy that you lost track of who you really were. what you felt you were meant to do.

sure, you had success and had more connections and fans than anyone could dream of. but what did it matter when you felt so alone?

you began closing yourself off. the limelight was making you anxious, and you couldn’t bring yourself to be seen in public in the state you were in. it all felt so hopeless. you considered living of the grid and going incognito in order to escape the expectations placed on you. for months, you stayed as hidden as possible, and it only made things worse.

being a long time friend of steven spielberg at this point, he sent you a personal invite to the premiere his new film west side story. you almost threw the invite in the trash. the thought of going out on a red carpet again and seeing all of these faces with bright, flashing cameras was out of the equation for you. yet, you missed the feeling of being dolled up. you missed feeling pretty.

when the big night came, seeing yourself in the dress that you had picked out didn’t feel real. you felt like you and not you all at the same time. your mind was conflicted; you knew the glam of hollywood was what made you happy, but since it had been so long since you have felt that way, you felt oddly out of body.

it was a long, off white dress with a leg slit and a completely open back. the dress had sleeves that stopped just below your shoulders, and it hugged your body tightly but not uncomfortably. your wavy hair fell onto your shoulders neatly in a half up half down, your curtain bangs framing your face. for the makeup, you tried to keep it relatively natural, and you didn’t want to draw too many eyes. you paired the look with some heels and a purse.

looking in the mirror, you tried your hardest to feel positive. you looked beautiful, you felt beautiful, yet something still felt wrong. maybe it was because you had no one by your side if you got anxious. as far as you knew, you would know one person there.

the car sent to pick you up took you on a ride through new york as your heart rate quickened. when you arrived at the scene, the bright lights and red carpet gave you chills.

after walking into the crowd, it didn’t take long to find steven. he pulled you aside into a fatherly hug. it felt good to be near someone as familiar as him.

“Y/N, long time no see!” he said excitedly as you hugged him.

“it’s been a while, hasn’t it?” you replied, pulling away.

“what have you been up to? knowing you, i’m sure it’s something great!”

you smiled, trying to create a facade. “oh, you know, a little bit of this and a little bit of that,” you said while nervously laughing. you couldn’t tell steven spielberg that you’ve been in a slump and that the most productive part of your day is waking up and making something to eat.

“i’m excited to see whatever you have up your sleeve,” he said, going to your side and taking your arm. “now, there’s someone i’d like you to meet.”

he guided you through the crowds, and you kept close to him. everything was becoming overwhelming.

you approached a man with his back turned to you. “Y/N, meet mike faist. you two could have a lot to talk about.”

the man turned around, and the first thing you noticed about him was that his eyes seemed to be glowing. they were brighter and bluer than anything you’d ever seen. they were absolutely stunning. upon further inspection, you realized that you recognized him from the posters for the movie, and knew he was playing riff.

he smiled at you, almost as enthralled with you as you were with him. he held out a hand, and you took it gently to shake it. you hoped he didn’t feel the sweat building on your palms. “Y/N L/N, it’s lovely to meet you.”

you grew flustered. “how’d you know my last name?”

mike looked taken aback. “doesn’t everyone?” your smile fell slightly, and mike noticed. “i’m a big fan of your work. your songs, your movies, and i recently started reading your book too. you’re amazing at everything you do.”

steven patted your shoulder before walking away, leaving you with mike. mike had a presence about him that made you feel welcomed and seen. it’s been a while since you felt that way.

“so, mike, what else have you been in?” you asked, wanting to know more about his work. he knew so much about yours, and you felt a little embarrassed that you didn’t know more about him.

he smiled and looked down. “i was a newsie in newsies on broadway, and i covered jack kelly. i played connor murphy in dear evan hansen on broadway, i was in a tv show called panic, and a lot of other stage and film work.”

you nodded, squinting your eyes slightly. “you know, i’ve seen both of those shows on broadway, and i didn’t realize until just now that that was you.”

he laughed. “am i not memorable?”

you giggled in return. “i don’t think it’s that. i just think i’m missing a little part of my brain.”

you and mike continued to talk about your respective careers. you noticed that he was so easy to talk to, and that he listened to and hung onto every word that you would say. it gave you butterflies, and you wondered what was wrong with you.

sadly, you remembered you’re at mike’s movie premiere and he had to do interviews and talk to other people besides you. you could tell he wanted to stay with you, but knew he had other obligations. before he left, he said, “we’ll see each other again before the night is through.”

you’ve had plenty of men try and charm you, with the efforts always falling flat. you’re no stranger to keeping your feelings under control and learning to not date in hollywood. it was too easy to be played by the wrong guys. but, your heart was telling you something different about mike. he made you more nervous and giddy than anyone else ever had and you barely knew him. you started to forget about the fact that you’ve been a hermit battling with your mental health for the last few months.

you caught up with a few old friends from the industry that you had recognized in the crows before it was time to go to a private screening of the film.

you watched as everyone funneled into seats in the theater next to their plus ones and friends. you stood back, scoping the area for empty seats. you felt frozen as all the seats seemed to fill.

“follow me,” a voice said close to your ear before taking your hand and walking with you down the rows of seats. you noticed it was mike and you smiled to yourself.

he took you close to the screen, but not too close, and sat down with you. you sighed. “thanks for saving me back there, i was getting stressed.”

mike tilted his head. “you’re from around here. you’re used to red carpets and screenings, aren’t you? i didn’t think this would stress out someone as experienced as you.”

he was right, it shouldn’t have stressed you out. you were so used to hiding away for so long that this all felt new to you again like it did when you were eighteen.

mike noticed your expression change, and he turned to you. “i’m sorry, i shouldn’t have said anything. but you’re worrying me a bit, is everything okay?”

you tried to brush it off. “i’m fine now, really. crowds just get me anxious-”

“i’m not just talking about tonight,” mike said, leaning in towards you. “the world has caught onto your unprecedented disappearance from the public eye. that can never mean anything good. are you sure you’re okay?”

you bit your lip, holding back tears. it was one thing to keep everything to yourself and pack it away and never confront what you’re actually going through, but to hear someone else say it put it into perspective for you. you had completely lost track of your vision and goal in life. you had lost track of you.

mike put his hand on your leg comfortingly, taking the silence and the glossy tears hidden in your eyes as a sign that you weren’t okay. the silent support he sent was exactly what you needed in that moment. a stranger was the person you least expected to comfort you.

before you could both think to say anything else, steven appeared at the front of the crowd and gave a speech, followed by the showing of the movie. every time mike appeared on the screen, you got chills. he was amazing. his performance made you hate riff yet feel some kind of empathy for him. that was due to mike’s spellbinding performance.

occasionally, you would feel mike’s eyes glance at you when important scenes came up. it’s almost as if he wanted to see your reaction. he wanted your approval.

then, after two and a half short hours, the movie ended, and the theater erupted in applause. everyone stood on their feet and you did the same, small tears running down your cheeks. you looked at mike, and his smile dropped when he saw you.

“why are you crying?” he asked.

you sniffled. “it was so amazing. you were so amazing.”

mike turned red, and he reached down to envelope you in probably the best hug you’ve ever had. he had the widest grin, and it wasn’t just from the movie.

you and mike traded numbers, and from that night on, you became inseparable.

mike awoke something in you that hadn’t been seen in a long time. he made you feel inspired at motivated and comfortable. you hid yourself away from the world in fear that the public would turn on you, twist your words into something far from the truth. mike dispelled those feelings for you; you felt like yourself again around him.

after the night at the premiere, mike made the first move in wanting to talk to you. you face timed each other for hours each night, staying awake into the early hours of the morning just talking about anything and everything.

you went out for a coffee date a week after the premiere, and it seemed clear to both of you that there was more to be discovered than just a friendship.

as you were walking through central park with mike, keeping your head slightly down as to not attract any unwanted eyes, you boldly brushed your hand against his, letting it linger for a moment. his hand moved away, but creeped back into place when he realized what you were doing. he slowly grazed his finger tips against yours as he walked, and he reached his fingers out and your hand fit neatly into his. you continued to hold hands for the rest of your walk.

when you arrived back at your apartment, you both sat down on the couch, your bodies turned inwards to face each other.

“i feel like i’ve know you my whole life, but its only been a week,” you said quietly, looking into his eyes.

mike smiled lightly. “i’ve never clicked this fast with anyone.”

you both paused, and mike hesitated before he spoke again. “can i ask you a question?”

you nodded, and he went on.

“there’s always been so much speculation about your love life in the media, and dating rumors and whatnot. i don’t like believing anything the media says, but i want to hear it straight from you.”

you smiled to yourself. the media liked to pull things that weren’t actually there and make up stories for fun. you’ve never actually had a real date since you’ve been in the business, let alone a relationship.

“i haven’t found anyone worthy yet.”

mike nodded, scooting closer to you. you could tell he was aiming to put his arm around you, but hesitated to see your reaction. you leaned in, telling him without words that it was okay, and he rested his arm around your shoulder as you laid close to each other. you immediately felt comfortable under his arm.

“i admire you, Y/N. i always have. i like that you know what you want, and that you know yourself. that’s a really great quality to have.”

you blushed, but your happiness faltered. you leaned your head back on his arm. “yeah, i guess. too bad i haven’t felt that way recently.”

mike looked at you, frowning. “why? if you don’t mind me asking.”

you weren’t typically the one to open up quickly to strangers. but mike felt different. he wasn’t going to judge, or make you feel bad about yourself. he was comforting.

“i’ve hid myself away from the world because i’m scared. i’m so insanely scared of messing up and having the whole world turn on me. so, i did the only thing i could think to do. i locked myself away in hopes that it would help,” you giggled nervously. “it didn’t do shit.”

you were smiling at your own misfortune, but mike stayed somber. “i’m sorry, Y/N, that’s awful.”

you shrugged. “yeah, but i did it to myself.”

mike sat up, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. you froze under his touch. “the world needs your brilliance. don’t be afraid, there’s so many people ready to guide you and protect you from anyone trying to take you down. i’m here for you, i promise.”

you bit your lip, unable to say words. mike was so incredibly kind. all you could do was whisper a thank you.

mike put his arm back around you, and you leaned into the couch together. “if there’s anything i can do to help, let me know,” he said quietly.

you leaned your head on his shoulder, looking up at him. “you already have.”

mike smiled, turning red. “you’re cute.”

you felt complete. you hadn’t known mike for that long, but he filled a part of your soul that had been gone for a while. he made you feel liked again when you couldn’t like yourself.

you sat up and looked at him. your faces were only a few inches apart. at the same time, you leaned in, and your lips grazed each other before interlocking. it felt euphoric.

you pulled away, remaining close, and you smiled at each other. “you’re the most talented person i’ve ever met,” you whispered to him.

mike lightly placed his hand under your chin. “that means a lot coming from you. i love everything you do.”

you leaned in again, feeling your old self coming back again. you felt renewed. mike made you feel like the star you are again.

you rested your forehead on his. “thank you.”

mike tilted his head slightly. “for what?”

“for making me feel worthy again.”

mike smiled lightly, then gave you a short but sweet kiss. “never forget that you’re beautiful and wanted.”

a small tear escaped your eye. mike was everything you needed. you almost felt in denial that someone like him could be making you feel this way because you were so used to men not valuing you. you were moving fast with mike, but it felt right. you were never one to believe in love at first sight, but this was pretty damn close.

you leaned into his side again, and his hand rested on the back of your head. you could get used to this.

#mike faist #mike faist x reader #mike faist fanfiction #mike faist imagine #riff #mike faist riff

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sissylittlefeather · 9 months ago

Text

How the Web Was Woven: Chapter 11

A/N: I'm on a roll with this one right now, so I figured I'd go ahead and publish this. ICYMI, this is the soulmate/time travel AU with Elvis and a fem!reader.

Need to catch up? Here's my Masterlist.

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, kissing, cussing, p in v penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, and biting 😏

Word count: ~3k

Somehow, you're pregnant with the child of Elvis Presley.

******

On March 12, 2017 you give birth to a beautiful, healthy baby boy. You name him John Jessie and he has your hair and Elvis's bright blue eyes. When the doctor hands him to you, you weep openly for so many reasons, but mainly because you wish Elvis could be there to see him.

And sure, you could've made a portal sometime while you were pregnant or in that first year, but you didn't. First because you were afraid he'd change his mind about staying in his time, and second because you wanted his first experience of fatherhood to be with Lisa Marie.

But once Lisa is born, you start to think about telling him. In the evenings when you rock John Jessie to sleep, the desire to let his father know about him overwhelms you. The same thing inside you that made you tell him about your engagement all those years ago is now telling you to find him and tell him about his son.

You even have the wild inclination to pack John Jessie up and bring him with you. You consider going to his time forever and just living as an unknown girlfriend. But you think about what it would mean for Elvis if anyone found out you were there with his son. His reputation would be ruined. And aside from that, you don't want to risk taking him away from Lisa Marie in any way. There's no telling how Priscilla might react if she ever found out about you.

So instead you pack up an envelope of pictures for him to see, put it in your bag filled with vintage clothes, leave John Jessie with your mom, and head to California in June of 2018. He's filming the Singer Presents Elvis special, better known now as the '68 Comeback Special, so you know exactly where to find him. Furthermore, you know he's living at the studio, so you'll be able to get to him alone more easily than if he was at home.

You don't know how he might respond to finding out he has another child, especially one that he might never get to see and definitely won't get to raise. Still, you have to risk it. He deserves to know.

******

When you get to California, you check into your hotel and get dressed. You're going to have to find a way to sneak into the studio since it's been closed to the public for a while now. You pray that fate will be on your side again, as it always has been for the two of you.

You take a cab to the studio, but the driver won't let you off in front of it. Instead you have to get out at the corner and walk over to it. You walk all the way around the large building trying to find a way in and start to get nervous that it's not going to work. You're also dodging security the whole time and you're exhausted after trying for several hours. The sun is low in the sky when you lean your back against one of the doors and almost break down crying.

******

Elvis was unbelievably nervous to begin filming for the special. In fact, he tried to refuse at the last second, but the producer insisted. After several hours of filming, he demands a break.

"I need some air." He says, looking for a door to escape and try to relax. He had finally begun to feel comfortable on stage, but there is a different kind of nervous energy possessing him now. There's a feeling in his stomach like something is about to happen, but he has no idea what it could possibly be. He gets his answer when he finally gets outside to find the buzzing sound and wavy air hovering right in front of him.

He turns and looks back at the door to the studio and then back at the portal. His life is finally starting to be what he wants. He doesn't want to leave now. And he has his child to think of. Still, he's desperate to see you, to hold you, and feel you against him. He cares for Priscilla, that is true, but his heart still belongs to you.

******

You stand there in complete shock that you were able to find a portal here outside the building. You take a deep breath, grab your suitcase, and walk through. Thankfully, he's alone when you appear out of thin air.

"Hi." You say cautiously. He's an absolute vision standing there in his black leather outfit. Your heart is beating so hard and so loud that you wonder if he can hear it. He seems to be trying to decide how to respond. "I'm sorry to just-"

In one step, he's wrapped around you with his lips pressed to yours. He takes your face in his hands and kisses both of your cheeks and then your mouth again. The scent of cologne, sweat, and cigarillos envelops you and you could cry with the familiarity of it. Neither of you has to speak to know what's being communicated. He just holds you and strokes your hair and you rest your head against his chest. You're in this position when one of his guys pokes his head out of the door.

"Hey EP they're... oh shit, sorry." He averts his eyes like you're naked or something. "They need you to come film some more."

"Okay." Elvis speaks into your hair, his voice muffled. "Come watch. I'll find you somewhere to sit."

You pull back away from him and nod. He puts his hand on the small of your back and ushers you inside. He takes your suitcase and stashes it somewhere quickly. Then, he finds you a place to sit and heads back up to the stage.

He records the sit-down portion of the show with his old band and you melt a hundred times. You haven't seen him perform for a real audience before. Its electrifying. In varying waves, your heart is filled with love and affection and then you're so turned on you could crawl up on the stage and fuck him right there in front of all these people.

You fidget with your ring to distract yourself and realize that you wore it here. You really didn't intend to, but you've been wearing it since he gave it to you, so it was habit to put it on this morning. Somewhere inside you, he's still your husband. Priscilla might have his time, but you have his heart. When you have this thought you panic for a second that she's here. You swivel your head around frantically looking for her. From the stage, he notices your mood has changed. He catches your eye and gives you the slightest inquisitive look. You mouth Priscilla? and he shakes his head ever so slightly, so you relax back into your seat. The whole exchange is less than ten seconds long and thankfully, no one notices.

Finally, they finish the set and he's done filming for the night. You stay in your seat, not sure what to do. Should you go to him? Or will he find you? You see him standing in a group of guys laughing and talking. He doesn't seem to be coming for you, so you stand up and walk slowly towards him, without an inkling of what you'll do or say when you get to him. As you get closer, you hear him.

"Nah, guys, not tonight. I have other plans tonight."

"Other plans?" One of the guys looks at him curiously. Just then, you make it to the edge of the group and he notices you.

"Ah, speak of devil. Or angel, rather." He puts his arm around your shoulders in a casual and friendly gesture. "This is y/n. She's an old friend from Tupelo. I told her I'd show her around tonight."

One of the other guys raises his eyebrows and the others shuffle around nervously.

"Oh, calm down boys. She's married." He uses his other hand to hold up your hand and show them your ring.

"Not that that ever stopped you." One of the guys jokes. Elvis moves away from you and play punches the guy that said it.

"Okay, I'll see you guys later." With that, he puts his arm around your shoulders again and walks away. On the way out, he grabs your suitcase and then leads you to the room where he's living in the studio. Once you're inside, he shuts the door and locks it and then wraps himself around you again, kissing you deeply. When he finally pulls back, he looks into your face and laughs softly.

"Good thing you're still wearing your ring."

"Yeah that would've been hard to explain after you told them I was married."

"Yes. They don't need to know it's me you're married to." He leans in and kisses you passionately again. Then he pulls back suddenly. "It is still me, right? You're not here to tell me you married some other guy again, are ya?"

"No, it's still you I'm married to." You respond, laughing. "I am here to tell you something, though."

He looks at you curiously and tries to think of what you could possibly have to report.

"What, honey?" You pull away from him and walk to your suitcase.

"I think it's better if I just show you." You pull out the envelope of pictures and hold it in your hands, your heart pounding.

"Divorce papers?" He eyes the envelope and his eyebrows knit together in concern.

"No! No, not that at all. You should sit down, though." He walks to a chair and sits down carefully.

"You're scaring me, honey." You take a deep breath and look at the ceiling. Then, you extend your arm and hand him the envelope. He opens it cautiously and pulls out the stack of pictures. The first picture is one a nurse took in the hospital of you and John Jessie together right after he was born.

He looks up at you and his face is a mix of shock and confusion. He's not able to say anything, though, so he flips to the second picture. It's one of John Jessie that you took earlier this week.

"You... you had a baby?"

"I did."

"And the baby is this old... oh God." You watch him as he puts the pieces together. He looks at the date on the back of the first one and counts the months backwards. "This is my baby."

"Yes." You almost whisper it and he looks up at you, his eyes glistening with tears.

"I have a son." You're getting choked up now too, watching him.

"You do. His name is John Jessie." He stands up and wraps his arms around you, as the tears slide down his face.

"John Jessie Presley." He whispers into your hair. Then, he sniffs and stands up, looking down at the pictures. He flips through them and smiles, seeing his little boy grow from a newborn to the almost-toddler he is right now. When he gets to the end of the stack, he has a thought.

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"I didn't want to distract you from Lisa Marie."

"Distract me?!"

"I wanted you to be focused on her." He shakes his head, but he can't argue with it. A different thought occurs.

"Why didn't you bring him with you? Where is he?"

"He's with my mom. I couldn't bring him here."

"Why not?"

"Do I need to spell out the headline for you? Elvis Presley's secret love child?"

"Oh, to hell with that. I want to see my boy."

"Did you forget that you have a wife here? Imagine how she would react."

"Again, I don't really care. He's my child."

"I just couldn't, Elvis. I can't mess with-"

"I swear to God, if you mention the damn timeline of history again, I'm gonna-"

"What? You're gonna what, Elvis?"

"I WANT TO SEE MY CHILD." He yells at you for the first time ever. He's yelled near you before, but never directly at you because he's angry with you. You stand there defiantly, both of you breathing heavily. "Take your clothes off. We're making a portal. You're gonna go get him and come back here."

"I'm not bringing him here."

"Goddamnit, y/n, then why did you tell me?!"

"I don't know. I guess I shouldn't have!" Your eyes begin to well up.

"You're damn right you shouldn't have. Now I get to live with the knowledge that I don't get to raise my own son." With that, the dam breaks and you begin to cry. He's right. You're ready to curl up and die when it hits you and you stop crying and look up at him.

"Come back with me."

"I can't leave Lisa."

"No, not like permanently. Just come with me and see him. The portals reopen right where you left from, right?"

"Yeah I'm always right back where I was when I walked through originally. Unfortunately, because it meant I had to finish filming Spinout-"

"So then I can open a portal for you any time I want and you can come through and see him. Just for a little while and then go back!" His eyes sparkle with excitement and he picks you up and spins you around.

"Haha! Yes! I can be a part of his life!" You nod and he kisses your cheek. "Oh, thank you, y/n. God, I love you. I missed you so much."

"I love you too." He smiles and kisses you tenderly.

Then, he sets you back down on the ground and kisses you again with a renewed hunger this time, his tongue parting your lips and dipping into your mouth. His desire is contagious and before you know it you're tearing at his leather jacket while he kisses your neck. You get it off of his shoulders and rip the shirt up and over his head. He literally tears your dress at the zipper and yanks it off of you. In your uninhibited passion, you sink your teeth into his shoulder and he yelps.

"Oh my God, I'm sorry."

"Do it again." He whispers in your ear. You bite into the skin on his chest and he growls deep in his throat. He removes your bra and panties with an animalistic fervor and throws them across the room. You peel his leather pants off of him as quickly as possible and he tosses you on the couch. In a second, he's pushed into you and is pounding you with a new kind of power and confidence.

"God, yes! Yes!" You yell as he fills you over and over. He holds your hip with one hand and slams into you rhythmically. He grunts and nips at your shoulder.

"You like it when I fuck you hard, baby?"

"Mmmmm harder." You moan.

"Yes ma'am." He listens to instructions and crashes into you even harder. There's a desperate kind of passion in the way he fucks you and it's everything you've needed for the last two years. He's needed it too; you can tell by the pace of his thrusts. He kisses your mouth, hard, and you bite his bottom lip. The way he drives into you is raw and dirty and makes you scream as you come as hard as you ever have while he pumps in and out of you.

"Fuck yes." He grunts through gritted teeth as he continues to pound against your hips while you pulse around him. Finally, he succumbs to the intensity of your sex and shoots you full of his warmth. As he comes, you bite him again on the chest and he lets out a guttural groan that makes you want to climb on top and fuck him again. He's dripping sweat and it mixes with your own as he collapses on top of you, both of you struggling to catch your breath.

The portal appears and he groans and rolls off of you. You scramble off the couch and try to get your clothes together. You cannot find your bra, though, and you have to dig through your suitcase for a new dress since he ruined the one you were wearing. You catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror and gasp. You look like a wild animal with your fucked out eyes and hair everywhere. You're desperately trying to smooth your hair when you hear a small pop and the portal disappears.

"Oh shit." He looks at you and laughs. He stops trying to get dressed, settling for just pants, and drops back down on the couch. He produces a cigarillo from somewhere and pats the couch next to him. You pick up his black shirt and pull it on over your head and then sit next to him, lightly running your fingers over the bite marks on his chest and shoulder.

"I marked you."

"It's a good thing we're going to your time. I can't go home like this." He chuckles and lights the cigarillo, taking a long drag.

"We missed the portal." You say offhandedly.

"I guess we'll just have to have sex again."

"Oh, darn." You respond playfully, taking the cigarillo and putting it in your own mouth.

"I didn't know you smoked."

"I guess I can still surprise you."

"My wife, the mystery." He puts his arm around you and takes the cigarillo back.

You stay like that on the couch for most of the night, just talking and passing the cigarillo back and forth. You tell him all about John Jessie and he tells you about Lisa and how excited he is for the potential future of his career after the special. Eventually you fall asleep on his chest and wake up to a loud knocking on the door.

"Fuck." He sits up quickly.

"We're gonna start recording in an hour, EP. I know you like a warning..."

"Yeah, I'll be there." He hollers and then looks at you and puts his finger on his mouth to indicate that you should be quiet. You stand up and start to pack up your clothes from last night and lay out a dress to put on once the portal is there. He throws some clothes in a bag too and then comes up behind you and kisses your neck.

"I believe we have some work to do." You turn to face him and he kisses you deeply, walking you back to the couch again.

This time you have sex in the most married way possible and laugh at how tame it is compared to last night. But you're both satisfied and it works to make a portal, so neither of you complains. You get dressed and pick up your bags as he takes your hand. After a deep breath, you walk through the portal together and find yourselves outside the studio in 2018.

******

To be continued...

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Taglist:

@ccab @elvisfatass @elvisalltheway101 @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @rosepresley68 @your-nanas-house @deniseinmn @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @that-hotdog @eddiesgirlforever @helen06dreamer @returntopresley @rjmartin11

#elvis presley fanfiction #elvis presley #elvis fanfic #elvis smut #elvis presley fic #elvis presley x reader #elvis x reader #elvis presley x y/n #elvis fic #elvis fanfiction #elvis x y/n #elvis x you #elvis presley fanfic #elvis presley x you #elvis presley smut #how the web was woven

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curiositymemes · 7 months ago

Text

ENCHANTED APRIL SENTENCE STARTERS.

taken from the 1991 film, an adaptation of the 1922 novel by elizabeth von arnim. feel free to change wording and pronouns and provide context as necessary. do not add to this list.

“it seems so wonderful and it's such a miserable day.”

“it’s not worth wasting one’s time thinking about.”

“i don’t suppose that means much to you. sometimes it doesn’t mean much to me, either.”

“you look as though you wanted it as much as i do.”

“you look so beautiful and so sad.”

“if you wish for something hard enough, it happens.”

“but no one will know I’m there even if i am.”

“have you ever seen things in a kind of flash before they happen?”

“i’m sure it must be wrong to be good for so long you become miserable.”

“i can see you’ve been good for years, and you aren’t happy.”

“i’ve been doing things for other people since i was a little girl, and i don’t believe i’m loved any better.”

“you must believe I’ve never spoken to anyone like this in my life.”

“i don’t know what’s come over me.”

“you should have been there, my dear. i missed you.”

“that’s rather a depressing thought.”

“god must know an awful lot. why doesn’t he do something?”

“there’s something immoral about all this.”

“all i wish to do is sit in the shade and remember better times and better men.”

“i hope you’re not in the habit of seeing dead people, however distinguished. it’s not in the best of taste.”

“i mean, we’re not businessmen, are we? they have to distrust each other.”

“i want to just sit and not talk and not think.”

“well, it’s very wearing. everyone makes demands… especially men.”

“you look lovely.” / “i know. thank you, name.”

“we could both do with a change.”

“it really is the most extraordinary coincidence.”

“I’m afraid it’s all settled, name. i can’t go back on my word.”

“do you suppose it’s all real?”

“were you ever in your whole life so happy?”

“i promised myself the first thing to happen in this place would be a kiss.”

“we were going to choose the nicest room for you.”

“we were going to make it pretty for you with lots of flowers.”

“you shouldn’t be so independent that people have no chance to be generous.”

“you know, i hadn’t realized you were so pretty.”

“you’re really quite lovely.”

“i was just thinking about cuckoos for some reason.”

“i suppose you realize we’ve got to heaven.”

“i intend to spend most of my time reading by myself.”

“you have the most interesting habit of answering a question with the same question.”

“if i can be left quiet for one month, forget things… i might be able to get myself straight.”

“i’ve wasted so much time being beautiful.”

“what she really wants is to be left alone.”

“soon she won’t have to try… she’ll just be herself without trying.”

“don’t worry about me. I’m just lying here thinking.”

“then i have had all the trouble of coming out here for nothing.”

“we’ve just discovered it.”

“why don’t you like us being here?”

“we just didn’t know about it, that’s all.”

“i’ve written and told him everything.”

“it would be mean not to share all this.”

“the important thing is to have lots of love about.”

“i had this obsession with justice, you see.”

“i’d like to stay here and think.”

“that’s very imprudent and very improper.”

“have you noticed how difficult it is to be improper with no men about?”

“it’s a good feeling, getting rid of things.”

“i want to love name, but not necessarily spend every night with him.”

“i haven’t felt this restless since i was a child.”

“it’s too absurd for someone my age.”

“i feel something is going to happen. but i won’t let it.”

“it’s odd how one’s mind slips sideways in a place like this.”

“if you knew me, you’d know how strange it was.”

“there’s no way back.”

“isn’t it beautiful here, name? the air is golden.”

“you’re here. that’s the important thing.”

“you’ve every right to be angry with me.”

“where else would you meet such interesting people?”

“i don’t want name worried in any way.”

“i like him. I didn’t think i would, but i do.”

“all the advantages i was born with, and i’ve misused them.”

“i have it all. why can’t i hold onto it?”

“you have a gift for happiness.”

“well, it’s like coming home.”

“i mean, well… i don’t know what i mean.”

“i’d believe any place you lived in would be exactly like you.”

“isn’t it better to feel young somewhere than old everywhere?”

“oh, good gracious, child.”

“so you see, dear boy, you must stay here.”

“it’s such a pretty story.”

“i thought you might be bored.”

“sweetheart… i’m so glad you came.”

“you’re right, name. it’s this place.”

“and i’m late on your very first evening. do forgive me.”

“it’s a great thing to get on with one’s loving and not waste time.”

“she sees what we can’t see because she loves him.”

“oh, dear name, we must be friends forever and forever.”

“i couldn’t help noticing how miserable you seemed.”

“oh, what the devil. it’s too beautiful a night to be miserable.”

“all my dead friends don’t seem worth reading tonight. they always say the same things, good things, but always the same.”

“i’m tired of the dead. i want the living.”

“thank you, my dear. i was feeling a little melancholy.”

“it does seem that people can only be happy in pairs, all sorts of pairs.” / “then you and i will be a pair, name. we’re going to be very good friends.”

“the roses are in love in the rose garden.”

“but that’s another story.”

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kikimurphys · 3 months ago

Text

Behind Closed Doors (part 16)

Pairing: Cillian x Y/N

Cillian drove you back to your apartment to gather more clothes for your stay with him. As you sat on the edge of your bed, folding clothes and carefully packing them into a small suitcase, he moved around the room, helping wherever he could.

“Can you grab some of the baby’s clothes from the bottom drawer?” you asked.

He leaned down and opened the drawer, finding a few tiny onesies, hats, and socks. The sight of those little garments brought a soft smile to his face. He gathered them and handed them to you, watching as you carefully folded each item.

“Thanks,” you said, smiling up at him. “Livvy gave me this set,” you added, holding up a matching hat and pants.

Cillian’s smile widened, his eyes never leaving you. There was something so natural, so right, about you preparing for your baby. You looked beautiful with his child growing inside you, and he felt a deep sense of pride and affection swelling in his chest.

You placed the baby clothes beside your own belongings and then leaned down to open the drawer again. Alongside the rest of the baby’s clothes was a small, pale blue blanket and a soft rabbit plush toy with a rattle.

“This was mine when I was a baby,” you said softly as you resumed folding.

“You’ve kept it all this time?” Cillian asked, his voice laced with admiration. He found it endearing that you’d saved these cherished items, imagining your baby holding onto something that once belonged to you.

“Yeah,” you admitted quietly. “I’ve actually got a box full of my old baby clothes. I think it’s back home somewhere.”

“Why? Did you always know you wanted to be a mum?” he asked, curious. He’d never met anyone who’d saved their old belongings for their future children, and it struck him how deeply maternal you were, even back then.

“I’ve always wanted to have kids. I love children,” you sighed, your eyes dropping to the clothes in your lap as you tried to focus on your task. “I… uh, I actually always wanted to be a teacher. I’ve just always loved being around kids.”

Cillian hesitated for a moment, not wanting to push you but unable to hold back his curiosity. “What happened?”

“I just never got to it. My family and friends always made sure to remind me I was too dumb, so I ended up doing what all the ‘dumb’ girls did,” you said with a small, self-deprecating laugh.

“You’re not dumb, Y/N. I can’t imagine that,” Cillian replied, his tone firm yet gentle.

“I know that now,” you said, your voice softer. “But at the time, I really believed I wasn’t capable of doing anything but being pretty and focusing on ‘girl’ things. Don’t get me wrong, I love my job, and I was always drawn to fashion and the film industry, but it’s always been my dream to work with children or have my own.”

Cillian nodded in understanding, offering silent support. He never liked throwing out comforting words just for the sake of it; he preferred to listen, to be there. And you appreciated that about him. You never liked being vulnerable in front of others because you hated the empty reassurances. But with Cillian, it felt different—he got it, and that was enough.

“What about you?” you asked, glancing up at him. “Did you always want to be an actor?”

Cillian paused, leaning against the dresser as he considered your question. “Not really,” he began, his gaze distant as he looked back on his past. “I was actually more into music when I was younger. I thought I’d end up being a musician, maybe in a band.”

You looked up at him, surprised. “Really? What changed?”

He chuckled softly, a hint of nostalgia in his voice. “Well, I did have a band for a while, and we even got a record deal offer. But I was young, reckless, and a bit too wild for my own good. I ended up turning it down, thinking I’d have plenty of time to figure things out.”

Cillian’s eyes met yours, and he gave a small shrug. “Life doesn’t always go the way you plan, though. I ended up going to university and studied law for a bit, but it just wasn’t for me. I was miserable.”

You nodded, listening intently, feeling a deeper connection as he opened up about his past.

“One day, I went to see a play,” he continued. “And something just clicked. I don’t know how to explain it, but watching those actors up there, I realized that was what I wanted to do. So I dropped out of university, much to my parents’ dismay, and threw myself into acting.”

He paused, a small smile playing on his lips as he remembered those early days. “It was tough, you know? Starting out, taking on small roles, doing theatre… But I loved it. Every moment, every character, every story—it felt like I was finally doing something that mattered to me.”

You smiled softly, understanding the passion behind his words. “And now you’re here,” you said quietly, admiring how far he had come.

“Yeah,” he nodded, his voice tinged with gratitude. “Now I’m here. But it’s funny… no matter how far I’ve come, how many roles I’ve played, I still think back to those early days when I was just a kid with a guitar, dreaming of a different life.”

You reached out and took his hand, squeezing it gently. “You’re amazing, Cillian. What you’ve accomplished—it’s incredible.”

He looked down at your intertwined hands, then back up at you, his eyes softening. “Thanks, love. But honestly, I think what you’re doing is even more incredible. You’re bringing a new life into this world, and you’re going to be the best mother.”

Your heart warmed at his words, and you couldn’t help but smile. “Maybe… but it’s still scary. I don’t know if I’ll be able to do it. It's scary.”

“You will be,” he said firmly, his hand tightening around yours. “You’ve got so much love to give, Y/N. Our baby’s lucky to have you.”

For a moment, the room was filled with a comfortable silence, both of you lost in your thoughts. Cillian’s thumb traced small circles on the back of your hand, a soothing gesture that made you feel safe, like everything would be alright as long as he was there with you.

Finally, you broke the silence, your voice soft. “I’m really glad you’re here, Cillian. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

He smiled, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. “You’ll never have to find out, Y/N. I’m not going anywhere.”

After settling down in his apartment, you were curled up on the couch with a blanket and a pregnancy book. Even though you were naturally maternal, you didn’t know much about babies, so your sister had sent you some books on pregnancy, childbirth, and the first few months of your baby’s life.

“Here you go,” Cillian said, approaching you with a cup of tea.

“Thanks,” you replied, taking a sip as he sat down next to you and turned on a movie.

The two of you sat in comfortable silence for a while—Cillian watching TV while you read your book. The warmth of the tea and the coziness of the blanket made you feel relaxed, but your mind was still full of thoughts and questions.

After some time, you broke the silence. “And Max? Do you only have him on weekends?”

“Yeah,” Cillian nodded, his gaze still on the screen. “Just until he can move in with me this summer. so I can have half of the custody.”

You smiled at that, imagining how happy Max must be to spend more time with his dad. “He wants to meet you, you know,” Cillian added after a moment, his voice soft.

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, and you looked up from your book. “Really? Did you tell him about me?”

“Course I did. You’re giving him a baby sister,” he replied, patting your thigh affectionately.

You sat up, a mix of surprise and concern flooding your expression. “You told him I was pregnant?”

Cillian nodded, sensing your worry. “I did. I wanted him to know, to prepare him. He’s a smart kid; he’ll understand.”

You bit your lip, anxiety creeping in. “What if he doesn’t like me? Or what if he thinks I’m trying to take his place?”

Cillian moved closer, his hand resting on your back. “He’s not going to think that. Max has always wanted a sibling, and he’s been curious about you for a while now. He’s going to love you, Y/N.”

“Okay,” you replied, biting the inside of your cheek. The thought of meeting Max scared you. He was a kid, and while you knew he’d likely be well-behaved, given who his father was, there was another layer to your anxiety—Siobhán. Cillian had told you they were on good terms, but when it came to their child, women could be fiercely protective. The idea of stepping into that dynamic made you nervous.

Cillian tried to reassure you, mentioning that Max would be coming over this weekend. You tried to mentally prepare yourself, but the anxiety lingered.

After spending more time reading, you decided to make yourself useful and headed to Cillian's guest room to unpack your bag. The room was spacious, and as you looked around, you thought to yourself that it could make a great nursery. But then you glanced at your suitcase and cursed under your breath. “Fuck!” You remembered Dr. Nelly’s instructions—no heavy lifting.

“Cill! Can you help me with my suitcase?” you called out, feeling a bit frustrated with yourself.

Cillian quickly stood up and came to your aid. You hated bothering him, especially knowing how tiring the week had been for him. Being in his apartment felt a bit awkward for you, and though you knew it was for your baby’s health, you couldn’t help but feel a bit useless.

He lifted the suitcase with ease and placed it on the bed, unzipping it. “I’m sorry. Thank you,” you said, feeling a bit guilty.

“No bother,” he replied with a kind smile, shaking his head. He was always so gentle and understanding with you.

“Let me help you,” he murmured, starting to unpack your belongings.

“No, it’s okay,” you argued, not wanting to be a burden.

“Please, Y/N,” he insisted, his tone gentle but firm. “The doctor said no unnecessary effort.”

“Fine,” you sighed, giving in as you sat on the bed and leaned against the pillows, watching him work.

As Cillian took out two ziplock bags with baby outfits, he paused, curious. “Why did you bring the baby’s clothes?”

“Well, if anything happens, we have to be prepared. I don’t think I got enough stuff anyway if she was born now,” you said with a small, nervous laugh.

“Yeah, about that. We should start buying things, like a cot and a pram.”

“Yes, I suppose,” you replied, your gaze drifting off as you stared into space. He was right, but the realization that you didn’t even know what you needed began to weigh on you.

“Are you alright?” he asked, noticing your sudden quietness.

“Yeah, sorry. I’m just… tired. Do you mind if I take a bath?” you asked softly, feeling the day’s events catching up with you.

“Of course, go ahead,” Cillian replied, his concern evident as he watched you. “I’ll run the bath.”

“Thank you,” you responded with a grateful smile, touched by his attentiveness.

You spent half an hour soaking in the hot water, finally finding some peace after the stressful week you'd had. With one hand, you cradled your belly, while the other held the pregnancy book you were reading. A small kick against your palm made you smile, reassuring you that your baby was going to be just fine.

After drying off and greasing your stretching belly, you padded to the living room to grab your phone, which was ringing. Cillian was seated on the couch as you picked it up.

“Hello?” you answered, pacing slightly as you spoke.

Cillian shifted his gaze from the TV to you, his eyes following your every move. You were wrapped in a simple white robe and your hair in a messy bun, your outfit making your growing bump even more noticeable. He couldn't help but feel a stir of desire at the sight of you. The way your breasts bounced slightly inside the robe with each step gave him a tantalizing glimpse, and he felt his body react.

“Ash called,” you said as you took a seat on the kitchen stool, brushing your hair absentmindedly. “She just wanted to check on me, see how I was holding up.”

Cillian glanced over at you, noticing how often you mentioned your sister. “You’re very close with her, I see,” he observed.

“Yeah, we are,” you replied with a soft smile. “She’s the only one in my family who understands me. Or, well, tries to.”

“Why? Are they not supportive of you?” he asked, genuinely curious.

“They are, it’s just… I can be very complicated sometimes,” you shrugged, trying to downplay it.

Cillian let out a small chuckle at your response. “How come?”

“Oh, you don’t wanna know,” you warned him playfully.

“I do!” he insisted, turning around to face you. He leaned on the counter, crossing his arms, the sleeves of his shirt cuffed at the elbows, revealing his toned forearms. The sight of his veined, muscled arms and the light layer of hair covering them made your mouth water.

“Well…” you looked around the room, trying to think of an example. “For instance, what are you making?”

“Chicken curry with rice,” he replied.

“Okay, so I’ll eat this because I’m pregnant, and she’ll just make me eat anything,” you laughed, “but normally, I wouldn’t like it.”

“Okay, I see where they’re coming from,” he said with a smirk, understanding your point.

“And it’s the same with so much more. I’m a pain in the ass!” you declared with a proud smile.

“No, you’re not,” Cillian reassured you, his tone warm and teasing.

“Are you close with your sister?” you asked as you stood up to get a glass of water.

“Yeah, with all of them, but especially with my brother Paidi,” he said, a fondness in his voice when mentioning his family.

Just then, the doorbell rang, catching both of you off guard.

“Are you expecting someone?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

Cillian shook his head, looking puzzled. He walked over to answer the door, and as soon as it opened, a lively voice called out, “How is it going brother?”

“Orla?” Cillian exclaimed, his eyes widening in surprise.

tags:

@mamawiggers1980 @xsweetcatastrophe @galactict3a @thistheivyseason @cillianmurphyvevo @sweetcheesecakesblog

#cillian fic #cillian murphy #cillian x fem!reader #cillian x reader #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy x you #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy imagine #peaky blinders #peaky blinder fanfic

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centrally-unplanned · 2 years ago

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I always find the 'semiotics' or symbolic language of media interesting from an evolutionary perspective. Recently online there was a bit of a discussion about run cycles in animation; a guide to running written by Hayao Miyazaki from back in 1980 for which we had the text due to its inclusion in collected-writings book Starting Point has been missing its original accompanying visuals for all this time. Someone (Rebekah Machemer) found and scanned those drawings so now we have the complete work:

Very cool stuff, and really great to recover any lost production media like this. In the essay itself Miyazaki gets a bit philosophical - why care about running animation at all?

Above all what is most important is what one wants to express through the act of running…Men of strong resolve, who are wearing heavy armor and carrying swords, should run in a way that weak extras cannot. The running of surging masses on fire with anger, the running of a child doing his best to hold back tears until he reaches his house, the running of a heroine who has forsaken everything but the desire to flee—being able to show wonderful ways of running, running that expresses the very act of living, the pulse of life, across the screen would give me enormous delight. I dream of someday coming across a work that requires that kind of running.

On the one hand this all resonates; make the character visual, express their identity through motion, etc. On the other hand...girl who runs like this? I don't run, like, at all! It's not a common occurence in my everyday life to see a single person running, and if I do it is 99% of the time someone working out. I am pretty sure when I do run its way less an expression of my Forsaken Herione vibes and instead an expression of my 12-hours-a-day-on-a-computer workout routine.

-How you think you look running

-How you actually look running

What I am not saying here is that Miyazaki is wrong or anything to care about running. Instead I am saying that when he discusses how beautiful the act-of-running is, that is only partially coming from observing reality; it primarily comes from animation as a medium. Animation's value-add is the art-in-motion, you want the screen to be expressing itself to the audience through movement. You as an audience member want to see the animator themselves express their own aesthetic to you through that movement. There are a million ways to make that happen but running is one of the strongest; its character focused, universally applicable, common *enough* that you know what it looks like, you can make it diegetic to a climax if the plot demands it, etc. It makes sense for animation to utilize it, and it does - more than just animation, film all over does! It's a universally common symbol in the language of film with decades of meaning built into it.

But that meaning does not first come from real life, it comes from those demands of film-as-a-medium. In all likelihood no one has ever emoted a climactic meaning to you while running, or after running, you don't have a frame of reference for that. When you, as a viewer, are emotionally moved by the act of running, you feel that because film as a medium taught you to feel that. Compare it to how animation/film often focuses on the eyes and mouth for expressing emotion - that is not an invention of film, that is how real human beings communicate, when talking to a person you focus primarily on their eyes and mouth. The semiotics of film's language around eyes is built primarily from real life, which is much less true for running.

What is cool is how much of a semiotics of running animation has been built up given its origin within the demands of the medium. Miyazaki had a hot take and a desire to see artists push the craft as early as 1980; since then I can think of hundreds of running cycles artists have put their own touch on. I think of these as real Artist moments - it is something that the craft leads you to that you become obsessed with perfecting, existing for its own sake, something that interplays between observation and pure creativity. I can see these scenes now outside their own story, as the use and evolution of language. Which is neat!

#animation media theory

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cosmics-beings · 7 months ago

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Idk why a lot of fans are excited for transformers one and think it’s going to be deep or meaningful in any way. The trailer indicated, at least to me, that it’s going to be a terrible hour and a half of kiddie crap with every bad kid’s animation cliche in it. They’ll probably even have a dance party ending with Optimus and Megatron leading it. Animation is going backwards into a dark age where people still see it as being only for kids and they refuse to create quality products. I am dreading this movie. It could have been something enjoyable for both child and adult transformers fans but noooo, it’s strictly for 5-9 year olds and it’s going to be one of those movies adults hate sitting through like the academy awards joke about.

(This is just my opinion, I’d be very happy to be wrong)

So in my personal opinion, i do think that it is going to have a more serious tone to it. The director has stated that it is meant for fans of all ages, and there are parts in it that will reignite transformers for new fans. also, it takes inspiration from the Dune series which is also really interesting. i do think there is going to be complexity in it.

but at the same time, the audience for transformers is always going to be children first and foremost. So if it somehow happened to just be silliness and a dance party at the end, personally, I wouldn't mind. i also don't think he animation is that bad? i don't think it's bad at all--as an artist, but also as someone who loves vibrant, retro, vapor wave type aesthetics, this movie is lowkey calling my name.

My personal opinion as well is that, while this may be more of a kids centric movie (though i do think it'll be suitable for all audiences), transformers already has a lot of iterations that are more adult centric. the IDW comics, Armada, Skybound, Prime and give or take Earthspark (which deals with both child and adult themes like healing from trauma, queerness, ptsd, etc.). Even ROTB is more adult centric (i am not counting the Bay films no thank you).

I think this franchise has always had it in it to be both adult centric, child centric and a bit of both. At the core though, I feel it is important to acknowledge that transformers is always going to have in mind, to be a child franchise so we should keep that in mind for movies like this. TBH after the seriousness in a lot of other iterations i don't really mind if it's silly. I think, it's okay if we get a plot that is a little silly.

I also wanna comment on what you said about animation going into a dark age and people thinking it's only meant for kids. Personally, I don't belive that. I think when looking at things like transformers, yeah, the animation in itself is going to have to be child friendly, even if it's for all ages. and the humor in the trailer and the overall vibe is going to feel childlike.

But i'd implore you to also realize that animation is still for everyone. I'm not sure if you've seen the Love, Death and Robots series, but please do. Because that is beautiful adult centric animation, from cartoon style, to 3d, to motion capture.

I think when we look at TF, yeah it's easy to assume that animation in areas such as that iso only seen as being for kids, but i think that's because it's transformers.

All this to say, i do understand and validate your opinion. I am excited about the movie, as hardcore transformers fan and of course, I have been dying to see Starscream on the big screen again, so I'll be seated.

But if you don't think it's going to be your cup of tea, i can totally understand.

#transformers one #tf one #megatron #optimus prime #starscream #elita 1 #transformers

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x-authorship-x · 11 months ago

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Can't stop thinking about some sort of Actor AU with Shisui reading for the first time the script of his death and having a whole reaction like, "THAT'S how I die? What?? Suicide, seriously??" talking with Itachi about how terribly written the scene is and arguing that there are so many more ways of him to die better than this! In ways that would make more sense for his character! And Itachi listens to it all while nodding because yeah, Shisui's completely right

*holds your hands and spins you in a circle* ANON, I LOVE AN ACTOR AU!!!❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

this is all so accurate lmao you know that picture from the script reading for game of thrones???

That's the room when shisui yeets himself over the cliff and leaves Itachi's child actor standing there, eye in hand, looking like a whole ass murderer lmao

Okay but can we also imagine an Actors AU for my HOPE AU? Like I'm sorry I'll never leave that series alone but can we talk about this chaos?!

Bonus points if:

shisui being originally his character's stunt double and then something happens and the actor pulls out so Shisui is thrown the script and absolutely kills it (like that story about how Harrison Ford was the carpenter hanging the door when Lucas was running Star Wars auditions etc etc)

Inoichi's actor bringing in his own daughter to play Ino because she's an absolute force of nature

Sasuke's actor is actually played by Shisui's actor's little brother and it's this running joke that he likes Itachi's actor so much more 😂 (ino's actor taking insult to this and wanting her dad to take shisui home with them for real)

Itachi's mother is actually mikoto's actress who was the ideal casting but wouldn't let her son, who did adverts and stuff as a child model, attend the set without her... She makes filming a bit of a nightmare

Kakashi goes full Robert Patterson and starts wildly lying in interviews, his character was supposed to be way more intimidating, like a proper military hardass, but this is what you get when you cast an indie actor who proceeds to wear the strangest face coverings to all promotions (including a paper bag with cut out eyes to "preserve Kakashi's modesty") (the mask was also the actors idea, citing it was mysterious and dehumanising to his character... Only to later reveal it's because he didn't want to take his lipring out)

Kisame spends about 6 hours in hair and makeup every morning and he has to wear one of those huge cgi suits to make him taller (like Beast in live action beauty and the beast) and the struggle to take him seriously is REAL

Kana the crow... Is this huge green lump that shisui has to talk to so seriously, like a bull machine, and Akira is this stuffed green puppet lmao Kakashi please stop doing a David Attenborough commentary impression off camera

Danzo's actor was a huge heartthrob when he was younger and everyone who recognises him is both impressed and horrified at the transformation

Fugaku's actor becomes a meme for being photographed at several rallies standing off with police only to get cast as a Shinobi cop 😂

Sarutobi's actor is the guy they ALWAYS cast to play Old Wise Man (no one is quite sure what he did before he was old enough for these roles)

Tenzo's actor is a famous singer and this is his - very unexpected - breakout role and his fans almost break the barrier at the red carpet when he walks out

Like c'mon this is just 🤌🤌🤌 to me ✨

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slytherinqueenrose · 2 years ago

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Shortie (Percy Hynes White)

Percy Hynes White x Short!Older!Reader

Warnings: Any except of my bad English.

So basically it was my very first day on set and I wasn’t too familiar with the cast because we hadn’t have enough time to introduce to each other. Shooting of the upcoming second season of Wednesday began few days before I arrived so some of the cast had their scenes recorded already.

I‘be been observing the filming process while drinking a carton juice with a straw which looked pretty childish but I truly didn’t care about that. I was so thirsty that I could probably drink from anything.

And then something weird happened.

The medium length hair boy kneeled in front of me with a friendly smile on his face. Percy. He’s been wearing his Nightshades cloak and his mask was up so I had a clear view on his lovely face. He was beautiful, I must admit. But what the hell was he doing? Additionally Georgie was standing beside him burning holes in my face. In a good way of course. He seemed very friendly.

“Hello, pretty girl. How old are you and where are your parents?” He asked and I almost choked on my juice. Seriously? “I didn’t know we have children on set” He murmured to his friend and the other one nodded.

Being short may seem to be cool. You know, boys are always higher, even if you’re wearing heels. But it usually felt ridiculous when people thought I was a child. Most of them used to laugh at me as if it was possible for me to change it.

“Dude, what the fuck? I’m 23.” I said, furrowing my brows which caught him off guard. Oh I forgot to mention. I was actually a year older than him. Nobody would say though. I’ve been asked for my ID multiple times when buying alcohol. Having a baby face was kinda nice but annoying at the same time.

“Oh my goodness, I’m sorry.” He said after standing up. He was high. Very high actually. My neck almost broke once I looked up at him. I noticed he’s cheeks gone totally red and Georgie was laughing his ass off already. “I truly thought you’re a random kid they let on the set to observe what’s going on.”

“Well, no. Happily you’re not the first one thinking I’m much younger so I forgive you.”

“Thank you, pretty girl.” He chuckled. “I’m Percy by the way.”

“Y/N. Nice to meet you, pretty boy.” I said winking.

“Are you flirting with me?” He asked with a grin, crossing his arms on his chest.

“I’m just mocking you.”

“We’ll see about it. I must come back to work but what about hanging out later?”

“Sure.”

“Good then. I’ll take binoculars for you so you won’t have to squint your eyes to see me better from down there.” He laughed and I only rolled my eyes.

And you know what? He actually did take the damn binoculars. I thought he was only joking but it’s Percy after all. We had a great evening, we’ve been talking for hours and he’s been making fun of my height all the time. Interesting beginning of a friendship let’s say.

#percyhyneswhite #xavier #xavier thrope imagine #xavier thorpe #xavier x reader #percy imagine #percyhyneswhiteimagine #percyhyneswhite x reader #Percy Hynes White x reader #Percy Hynes White imagine #Wednesday #wednesday addams

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jwirecs · 2 years ago

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Recommended BTS Fics of November 💖

hello, hello! here are my bts recs of november! hopefully these beautiful stories get more recognition as well as the writers 💝

** anything in parentheses and bolded are my thoughts that can be disregarded if needed **

🔞smut || 💔angst || 💕fluff || ✅completed || 🔄ongoing || 💯favorite

10 Hours || @angelikook💕✅

↳ When your three best friends want to stay at school overnight, you can’t say no. After all, nothing will go wrong, right? Well, everything goes wrong, actually, but in ways you never imagine.

Fall Back In Love || @bukguhope 🔞💕💔✅

↳ jungkook somehow grew a reputation of sleeping around on campus, leaving him lonely and inexperienced with relationships. so when you, his old childhood best friend moves onto campus, he discovers what a relationship can feel like as he finds himself falling in love with you

Matilda || @babystrcandy🔞💕💔✅💯💯

↳ Loneliness had always been a constant for you, haunting you like a ghost; until your older brother’s best friend, Min Yoongi, came into your life. You both promised each other something back then - you’d always have his support and he’d always have yours. But with time and age, you weren’t sure how much that all still stood to be true.

The Lucky One || @babystrcandy🔞💕💔🔄

↳ Growing up you only had one goal: beat Jeon Jungkook. Sometimes you’d win, other times you’d lose. Sometimes he’d lose, other times he’d win. But you’d both walk away from the match thinking the other was the lucky one.

Vows || @hamsterclaw🔞💕💔🔄 (not too sure if it ended at part 2, but just incase its still ongoing)

↳ You've been in your arranged marriage with Yoongi for five years, and he's never once retaliated for anything you've done to him. One day you realise you've lost your appetite for provoking him, and you set about trying to win his heart instead.

Already Mine || @i-am-baechu🔞💕💔🔄💯

↳ “I do.” Two simple words that changed her whole world. The man that gave her love that she never had before and a child that looked just like him with her eyes, a story for the ages. It wasn’t until the mornings changed and the warmth he once had turned cold. Nothing made sense but at the same time everything did. All she wanted was him but maybe that's not what he wants...

Rope Bunny (Helping Hands Halloween Special) || @euphoricfilter🔞💕✅💯

↳ Yoongi had never been too fond of Halloween. Hated that one tacky day of the year with every fibre of his being. All it takes however, is your little surprise to convince him that maybe, just maybe, Halloween isn't all that bad.

On Camera || @agustdiv1ne 🔞💕✅💯

↳ jeon jungkook, also known as kookiemonster97, was a youtuber and, more importantly, your boyfriend. your sex life was great, amazing really, but what happens when he asks if he can film you two one day? he did have the equipment, after all.

90 Days || @ttaehyungtrashh💕💔🔄💯

↳ All you want is for your new cat hybrid friend, his unwilling older wolf hybrid brother and his other 5 brothers to keep safe and warm during the winter.

About Love || @mochiimac🔞💕💔🔄

↳ Becoming a best selling thriller author? Part of the plan. Living in the city and isolating yourself from everyone? Part of the plan. Inheriting your late uncles home in the woods, his sassy assistant and fortune after he died mysteriously? Not part of the plan. Oh, and he failed to mention the 7 ‘surprises’ he left you as well. And come to think of it… was his death an accident? Or is your imagination going wild again?

Daddy’s Money Makes The World Go Round || @underthe-northernlight🔞💕💔🔄

↳ The daughter of a filthy rich businessman is gifted hybrids by her father. But if only he knew that would lead to her gaining the confidence she will need to break free from what he deems the right place for her. Follow her as she learns to navigate the worlds and stay alive.

Pet Food || @moonlightkoo💕💔🔄💯

↳ Taehyung never wanted to own hybrids. Jungkook just wanted to be independent. You didn't want anything. But somehow you all ended up together, and nothing better could've ever happened.

Purrfection || @moonlightkoo💕💔🔄💯

↳ Bangtan-Mansion’s security camera footage shows something very interesting.

Things That Matter More || @leewriting🔞💕💔✅

↳ At first, getting a new roommate after your friend had moved out appalled you. Just thinking about sharing your space with a stranger put you on edge, but as the weeks went by and the rent went up you had no other choice but to post that stupid ad. In many ways living with Jungkook is perfect for an introverted med student like yourself. He pays rent on time and is seldom home leaving the apartment quiet and clean. On the other hand, there is the small problem of him stumbling in at three in the morning, hurt and letting blood stain your new carpet.

Chronicles of My Witchy GF || @yoonieper🔞💕✅

↳ Just Jungkook and a few cute tales about his witchy girlfriend~

Claret Cravings | Skin Of The Mother, Mouths Of The Babes || @vvh0adie💕✅

↳ Emotions run high when you tell your lil’ vampire bats that they won’t be drinking cow’s blood this week. It stresses you out, and they unfortunately feel the brunt of it.

Forever || @oddinary4bts🔞💕💔✅

↳ three years ago, your relationship with jin ended in fights and tears. When life puts him back on your path, you catch a glimpse of light in his eyes that you thought had died when you broke up. Will your relationship blossom into a well-deserved forever or will you lose the love of your life again?

Repeat Offense || @gimmethatagustd🔞💕💔✅

↳ The are only two constants in life: the promise of death and the infuriating existence of the man who ruined your life. Will your immortal punishments keep you in an infinite loop, or will you one day be able to rid the world of the evil that is Kim Seokjin?

Resurrection || @bonny-kookoo💕💔🔄

↳ In which you’re saved by the very thing that’s been trying to kill you.

Sunrises & Liquor || @aamalaaa🔞💕💔🔄

↳ after a failed academic pursuit and a few meaningless and disappointing relationships, you decided to go back to what you never thought you would: the bar industry. There you find a family, friends, heartache, misunderstandings and one particular barman who just won’t get out of your head.

Three Tangerines || @kithtaehyung🔞💕💔🔄

↳ “when yoongi told you he would be there if you needed anything, this isn’t what he had in mind”

Til Death Do Us Part || @justimajin🔞💕💔✅

↳ If someone told you that you’d be marrying the Kim Namjoon, you would think you were being lied to, or worse, that you were hallucinating. However, fate seems to have it’s own ways of making the impossible possible and before you even know it, the title of Mrs. Kim is bestowed onto you. There’s just one problem: you’re not sure if Kim Namjoon is the person he says he is and the truth of your own identity is dangling by the strength of a mere thread.

Turn Back Time || @raplinesmoon🔞💕💔✅

↳ After total humiliation at his middle school baseball try outs, Kim Seokjin wants nothing more than for his awkward years to fade away until he’s thirty. Cue a magic baseball glove, and his wish is finally granted. Seokjin suddenly wakes up seventeen years later, now the star pitcher of the team he’d always dreamed of playing for. Confused and overwhelmed at the prospect of the new life waiting for him, he turns to the only person who seems to understand him — you. Will Seokjin learn what it truly means to be thirty, flirty, and thriving? Or will he find himself wishing he could turn back time?

The Art Critic || @mooniyooni💕✅

↳ (just yoongi being a dad)

Midnight’s Minuet || @bangtansmauyeondan 🔞💕💔✅💯💯

↳ While gallivanting around the world pursuing his love for music and architecture, Yoongi was forced to come back home when Seokjin, his older brother, asked him for help to run the family business. Having been born with a silver spoon, Yoongi longed for a bit of normalcy and independence; hence, agreeing with Seokjin’s request didn’t come without any of his own conditions— first, he’s going to oversee the hotel’s kitchen; second, he’s gonna let him live a normal life— no luxury cars, no high-rise building apartment, no special treatment. Yoongi was pleased that everything seemed to be going well with his return… until he met you, the roadblock to everything his brother has agreed to.

Camboy!Tae Mini Series || @hisunshiine🔞💕💔🔄

↳ (tae being a wonerful camboy. thats it, we love that.)

Compromise || @here2bbtstrash🔞💕✅

↳ you're torn between the two loves of your life - but maybe you don't have to choose.

Red Riding Hood (Petrichor Drabble) || @purpleyoonn💔✅

↳ It was Halloween in Seoul and you were talking about your home traditions compared to South Korea’s with Haneul and Kingpin when you were interrupted. Now, your mates tried to tease you, but you were the one doing the teasing.

Do check out all of the other BTS Fics that i have reblogged as well!!

** if there is any fics that you guys would like to recommend, please do! i am slowly running out of fics to read **

#bts scenarios #bts fluff #bts angst #bts smut #bts social media au #bts werewolf au #bts hybrid au #bts dad au #bts enemies to lovers au #bts established relationship au #bts friends to lovers au #bts childhood friends to lovers au #bts mafia au #bts gamer au #bts recs #bts fic recs #bts strangers to lovers au

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alfredosauce50 · 1 year ago

Text

Passengers

[America x reader] 02

Wordcount: 4, 278

Rating: M for mature themes

Disclaimer: This is a crossover with the film Passengers (2016). I do not own the plot.

The reader is referred to as she/her.

Alfred ambled through the grand concourse with his head hanging like a scolded dog. And his lips, pursed in a deep frown. With all his focus on his feet, he managed to walk right past the ship’s bar, which was miraculously open in his time of need. And he would’ve kept walking if it weren’t for the human figure in the corner of his vision--wait a second.

He stopped abruptly, feet skidding against the floor, then paced back a few steps. His eyes went wide to take in what he saw, or what he thought he saw, and sure enough, there was a bartender polishing a glass!

“Oh, man!” Alfred gasped, running to him with glee. The other smiled curtly, welcoming their guest into their kingdom. A classy jazz bar. “It’s so good to see another face! I thought I was the only one awake.”

“Who wants to sleep on a beautiful day like this?”

He had short, choppy blonde hair, a roundish face, and bright green eyes. If his accent didn’t give it away, those features certainly did. There was always something about the British he could pinpoint off the bat. Either way, he felt strangely at ease, taken by the charm of the staff and the establishment alike.

Bottles of all the liquor you could possibly want were stacked neatly on shelves, and behind them was a glowing panel of white marble. The rest of the interior was space gray with gold accents, and one wall was dedicated entirely to a mural of a spaceship.

“No, I mean we’re in trouble,” He slowed down as he got to the counter. “We’re not supposed to be here.”

“Well, I won’t tell if you don’t.”

“Huh?”

“Our little secret.” The bartender put down the glass he’d been polishing ceaselessly for the past minute. Then, he placed both hands on the counter invitingly, beaming at the man. “What can I get for you?”

“What?”

“You look like a whiskey man.”

“Uh, okay?” He finally gave in to their relentless hospitality, but the decision never had him backtracking so fast. His only other companion, a stranger, moved to another side of the bar without taking a single step, or more accurately put, whirred, almost like he was attached to the ground. Alfred ran forward and slammed his hands on the counter with next to no grace, then peered over it. Just as he suspected, a metal rod was going up the guy’s ass. And so, he slid onto one of the barstools with the most disappointed glower. “Oh. You’re a robot.”

“Android, technically.” They corrected, filling a glass with brownish-orange liquid. “Arthur’s the name.”

“Alfred,” He took the cup, raising it briefly as a gesture of thanks. Giving that a longer sip than he would have, he leaned back and thought for a bit. The spaced-out look in his eyes never left as he popped the question, which captured the bane of his existence. “How much do you know about this ship?”

“I don’t know,” Arthur blinked inquisitively, glancing up, then down at him again. “I know some things.”

“What do I do if my hibernation pod malfunctions?”

“Oh, hibernation pods are fail-safe,” The man smiled assuringly. “They never malfunction.”

“Well, I woke up early.” Alfred countered.

“Can’t happen,” He picked up another glass and polished it, just as he did the second he got here.

“How long until we get to Homestead II?”

“About 90 years or so.”

“And when are all the passengers supposed to wake up?” Alfred smiled tightly, feigning curiosity.

“Not till the last four months.”

“How is it that I’m sitting here with you, with ninety years to go?” He spoke slowly like he would with a child. There, he watched the other’s reality, lines and lines of delicate code, shatter like glass. Arthur stared at him blankly, expression frozen with perpetual friendliness. Then, he glitched once, his face jolting a fraction of an inch before carrying on like normal.

“Ah. It’s not possible for you to be here.”

“Well, I am.” He grumbled, slamming his cup down.

The next morning, Alfred awoke to the Homestead radio. As he lay in a fetal position, that perky Atlantic accent filled his ear. Was it going to be like this every day from now on? He threw his pillow over his head and held it there, groaning as--“it’s a beautiful day here on the Avalon. So wake up, sunshine!”

He hit the cafeteria, watching the ceiling light up at his arrival, panel by panel. A white room stretched on ceaselessly before him, and it looked more sterile than a hospital. Not exactly the homey vibe he was going after, but food was food. He approached one of the unmanned vendors, hexagonal dispensers designed to serve six at a time, and scanned his ID.

“Please make a selection.”

He pressed the first widget, an icon with a mug.

“Sorry. The Mocha Cappuccino Extreme is reserved for gold-class passengers.” It spoke, prompting him to press it again. “Sorry. The Mocha Cappuccino Extreme is reserved for gold-class passengers.”

“I want the Mocha Cappuccino Extreme. Bill my room please,” Alfred spoke firmly.

“Food can be purchased in the ship’s…”

He pressed another widget.

“Sorry. The French Roast…”

Then another.

“Sorry. The Pumpkin Spice…”

And another and another until he went down the list.

“Sorry. The Vanilla Chai… Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry.” His face scrunched up in irritation as he began punching each widget, all giving the same response until he got to the very last option. “Large Coffee.”

“Cream, sugar—” He said loudly.

“Please enjoy your coffee.”

A cup of black coffee was dispensed before him.

“Oh, really?” Alfred scoffed.

He sorted through a shelf of manuals, and sure enough, he came across one for hibernation pods. Taking that with him, he made a quick journey to the storage facility to retrieve some tools. Now, all he had to do was fix his sleeper and be well on his way ninety years in the future like he was supposed to.

Dropping his heavy duffel of knick-knacks in front of his pod, he got on his knees to open up the disk slot. He connected the wiring for a quick spark and fizz, causing the machine to power up again. The screen lit up, showing his diagnostics, and so did the inside of the pod. A huge smile broke out across his face as he rose to his feet, hopped inside, and lay down.

The glass hatch closed around him.

He closed his eyes and shifted to get comfortable, happy as a lark. Only he didn’t fall asleep, let alone get close to cryosleep. Alfred opened his eyes, stone-faced. This wasn’t going to work, was it?

Now, to get out of this thing.

He pushed the hatch in different places, but it didn’t budge in any of them. Panic shot through him as he came to the realization he had trapped himself in what was slowly turning into a hotbox. He didn’t hesitate to start banging frantically on the glass with his fist, even kneeing it in multiple places to set himself free.

Once the hatch opened, he shot up, hyperventilating.

Alfred tried the command ring, next. Dropping his bag of tools in front of the heavy, metal door, he began his work. He’d hack at it with a sledgehammer, and when that didn’t work, he’d try cutting through it. Holding a welding mask over his face, he turned on an industrial laser cutter and let it do its thing.

Sparks flew, but he barely made a scratch.

He lowered his mask, revealing his sunken eyes and unshaven face. After weeks of unleashing hell on the door, it stood firm, a badge of his failures and reminder that he was never getting off this ship alive. Only that begged the question, what would he do if he did manage to break through this tonne of steel?

Wake up someone else to help him?

He would be a fish out of water, having jumped so desperately to get out of a pond with no thought of what to do once he got to land. Yet, he persisted, fearing the worse if he ever decided to give up.

More errors popped up on the ship’s diagnostics.

Just after he left the elevator to the grand concourse, the whole thing went haywire. The doors slammed together, opening, closing, opening, and closing. Even the lights started to flash on and off. He stared back at it, gravely unsettled, watching it spazz out.

“G-Ground concourse. Going down. P-Please make.”

Looks like he wasn’t the only thing breaking down.

“I’m screwed, Arthur,” Alfred uttered hoarsely at the man, eyes red and irritated. With nowhere to be and nothing to do, he found himself in the bar again, as did all. “Completely and ridiculously screwed.”

“Come on, now.” Arthur chided, polishing the inside of a glass. “Every cloud has its silver lining.”

Alfred tilted his head as if to go, fair enough.

“Guess I am gonna die of old age on this ship.”

“Oh, we all die,” The other said as-a-matter-of-factly. “Even androids end up on the scrap heap.”

He scoffed through his nose, swallowing another gulp of his whiskey. Like he’d understand how that felt. A few moments of comfortable silence droned on between the bartender and their patron, one of which, kept scrubbing around the outside of a cup.

“I’m your only customer. Why are you always polishing a glass?” He asked, brows furrowed.

“Trick of the trade. Makes people nervous when the bartender just stands there.” Arthur explained.

“So lay some bartender wisdom on me,” He placed his drink on the counter. “I’m lost in space, here.”

The android came over in an instant, his movement letting out a soft mechanical whir. He narrowed his eyes thoughtfully, piecing together his next few sentences as carefully as he could for the troubled man. And this was the best he could come up with.

“You’re not where you want to be. You feel like you’re supposed to be… Somewhere else,” He spoke.

Alfred raised his brows and snorted--yeah, no shit. But his amused expression quickly fell away for a serious one. He had to humor the guy, at least.

“You said it.” He nodded with a squint.

“Say you could snap your fingers and be wherever you wanted to be. I bet you’d still feel this way,” Arthur continued, getting him to lower his gaze in thought. “Not in the right place. Point is, you can’t get so hung up on where you’d rather be, that you forget how to make the most of where you are!”

“What are you telling me?”

“Take a break from worrying about what you can’t control,” The other glanced up from the things in his hands. Then, with the most subtle, yet, suggestive smile, he added this in a whisper. “Live a little.”

“Live a little,” Alfred whispered, spacing out as the words repeated in his head like a tape. The next thing he knew, he was breaking into the most luxurious accommodation the ship had to offer. He wedged a crowbar between a double door and pried it open.

He gritted his teeth and strained for a good few seconds before it slid apart. What was inside didn’t impress him at first, a room shrouded in darkness, but he was blown away when he stepped inside. What slowly lit up before him was a palatial suite fully furnished with modern homeware and decor.

“Welcome to the Vienna Suite.”

“Oh, yeah!” He laughed breathily. Alfred walked in with his head tilted back to take it all in--the highest ceilings he’d ever seen, and white stairs that folded one after the other like a fan. It led to a mezzanine, the designated sleeping space with a double bed. Adjacent to that was a panoramic screen displaying an image of an American forest, shrouded in a mist.

He ran upstairs to check it out, going past these golden, hexagonal honeycomb lights on the wall.

“What?” He exclaimed in amazement.

Flopping onto the mattress, he rolled onto his back with the biggest grin. This ship had been holding out on him, a lowly second-class passenger, but he was about to enjoy every spoil until he got sick of them.

He just never imagined how sick.

He dribbled a basketball across the floor, jumped up, and tossed it into the hoop. A horn sounded, and an electric blue wave of pixels went around the walls. While he celebrated his point with a fist pump, neon pink silhouettes of cheerleaders danced around him, throwing up their pom poms and chanting his name.

Alfred stopped by the restaurants next.

“Make that double jumbo shrimp--triple.”

“あいがとうございます,” The robot waiter took the menu and left to the kitchen, leaving him to his own devices. He picked up a pair of chopsticks and nicked at the holographic koi fish that swam above his table. He watched them scatter, much to his amusement.

“Dance off,” He grimaced, folding his arms at the 3D game character across him.

They busted a move, and Alfred copied them with the most concentrated look, lips puckered in an ‘O’. He swung his arms and spun on the spot, only for him to lose all his points. The character made a face and shook their head, giving him a thumbs-down.

“I did exactly what you just did!” He exasperated.

His short stubble turned into an unkempt beard.

“Uno más margerita, por favor.” Alfred requested in a funny voice, finger up. How he was still conscious after that many drinks was beyond him, but it had to be the huge enchilada that buffered the alcohol.

“You have had many, señor.” The robot waiter said.

“Oh, Hector, por favor, otra vez!”

“Sí, señor.”

He leaned over and followed it with his gaze.

“Gracias,” He called in his normal voice.

Alfred was back on the basketball court. His hair had grown around his ears, the dry, sandy blonde frizz making him look nothing short of homeless. After he managed to toss the ball into the hoop one more time, he didn’t react to the avid cheers around him. He kept a poker face, exhausted by the repetitive lifestyle of indulgence he’d been cycling through.

When the ball rolled back, he picked it up, turned around, then dropkicked it into the distance.

In the end, there was still a finite number of things to do even on the Avalon, and nowhere near enough to burn a lifetime here. Alfred was losing his mind to boredom, and, eventually, despair. He’d feed the ship’s vacuum bots breakfast, tossing them soggy cereal bits. He’d order ridiculous amounts of takeout, then sleep in a nest of takeaway boxes. He’d walk the hallways buck naked with his crumpled shirt in hand.

With nothing to do, and nobody to talk to, he was trapped forever in a state of limbo. His existence was all but internalized. The only reality he’d ever know was his mind, and this steel ship, a thousand meters long--the former of which, had finally come apart. Because no matter how hard he tried to stray from his fate, he always found himself in the pod room.

As he wandered down the aisles, watching each and every passenger sleep with a peace he’d never know, his heart festered with sadness, envy, and, eventually, poisonous anger for what his life had become, or failed to. He tossed an empty vodka bottle as far as he could, letting out a guttural yell. And to think he came here with more excitement than anybody had for the Avalon. A ship of dreams, now all but dead.

He opened a door attached to the pod room.

“Welcome, Alfred.”

He arrived in another room with metal flooring and walls. There were these clunky, navy space suits standing in the center, for what he assumed to be the spacewalking attraction he heard about. But that wasn’t what piqued his interest. He approached one of the suits and pressed his head to the chest, and for just a few seconds, he’d pretend it was a person.

“Please turn your attention to the screens displaying safety tips. These spacesuits are designed to withstand the harsh environment of space. The carbon fiber and polyamide construction means your suit is both flexible and durable. The suit will…”

He even held onto the gloves, the closest he’d get to holding someone else’s hands again.

“Remember, your space suit is your lifeline.”

He clicked a big green button on the control panel, getting one of the suits to spin to him. Giving that a thoughtful gaze, he walked over and took it off the mannequin. After putting on the suit, he entered the airlock, a silvery chute that led to the great outdoors.

“Slide the handle on the right to release the air pressure,” The voice spoke, turning his head to said handle. He slid the protective casing down, feeling a sucking on his feet. “your magnetic boots are now engaged. Press the red button to open the airlock door.” And press it he did, watching the chute open.

The air around him got sucked out as he stood firm. Out there was the vast sea of space. A pool of stars, cosmic dust, and distant planets he’d never know. Interstellar travel had been common for decades now, the universe outside the solar system made accessible to the human race, but he still gazed up at the stars with the same wonder as people did back in sixty-nine. When they first put man on the moon, one tiny step for man, one giant leap for mankind. Fuck. He’d never get tired of repeating that quote, accent and all--just like he’d never let himself get indifferent to space. The endless beauty and horror of it, the trifling insignificance he posed to the universe.

These truths lay bare in front of him as he floated in his suit, surrounded by a star-speckled abyss in all directions. He was overwhelmed by the power of it, so much so that he started crying. He always had been, he just never imagined it would be like this.

Terrifying, lonely, and at the mercy of Mother Nature.

He returned to the ship, looking like Hell.

What he experienced gave him a lot to think about. The bigger picture, the ultimatum. He really was going to spend the rest of his life here, or whatever was left of it. He froze, having a thought occur to him he never would’ve entertained outside of these circumstances. He didn’t have to suffer for another twenty, thirty years. He could end it all, right here.

In the airlock, where he could get sucked out into space. The vacuum would hurl him out so far out, he’d never dream of returning. But that wasn’t as fast as he wanted it to be. Without his space suit, it would be instant. His lungs would collapse, he would swell up, then freeze to death--whichever came first.

And he was about to find out.

He stood in the airlock in nothing but his shirt and boxers. Then, he slid the safety handle, exposing the red button. As he reached for it, his eyes went as wide as he could get them. And his heart, racing out of his chest. His fingers barely grazed the top before he pulled away, having returned to his senses.

Then, he made a run for it, horrified by what he was about to do himself. And he kept running even in the pod room, desperate to get as far away from that thought as possible. In his delirium, he missed the vodka bottle rolling on the ground and slid on it.

Alfred fell on his back with a heavy thump.

He didn’t get up right away, but lay there, groaning from the pain. Once it subsided, he was met with another kind of pain, one that would last forever. After a year of being alone, he nearly took his life.

But the next second saw an upheaval to that.

When he got up, he saw a woman sleeping in her pod just across from him. He never would’ve given her the light of day a year ago, or at least, not in the right context. Like at a bar, two drinks in. Any man in their sound mind would’ve approached her then. She was young and attractive, just like a lot of the passengers here. One could only imagine what a man in their unsound mind would do, lost and alone for the rest of his days.

“(F/N),” He muttered, reading the name tag.

“Searching passenger profiles,” The computer said. Alfred leaned forward in his chair to scan the list for your name. Sure enough, there was only one of you. The lesser-known daughter of a Pulitzer-prize winning author, but eager to take on their mantle.

You appeared on the screen, awake and perky.

“My dad used to say, if you live an ordinary life, all you’ll have are ordinary stories. So, here I am.”

Alfred brought his cereal from the cafeteria.

“Good morning.” He pulled a chair next to you. Taking a seat beside your head, he turned on his tablet to watch your interview. He was finally having a meal with someone, even if that someone didn’t know that. And it was nicer than he remembered.

“We’re starting over in every way,” You shook your head at the weight of that statement. “I’ll have to figure out where to live, how to live, who my friends will be--it’s like the first day of school, if the school bus took a hundred and twenty years to get there.”

He laughed some, his throat hoarse from his daily rendezvous with his robot bartender. Regardless of where you were headed, you were still down to Earth, and your excitement for the unknown was refreshing.

It reminded him of how he used to be.

“Everything’s gonna be different to how we do things on Earth. But we’re still the same.”

Alfred purchased your book.

“We’d want to make something for ourselves, only we actually get to do it under blue skies.”

He opened the first page and started reading.

“This should be interesting,” He murmured, popping a grape in his mouth. Thus begun his little flirtation, his connection to another human being without ever having to talk to them. If only this could remain as such, a flirtation, but the deeper he plunged, the harder it would be to swim to the surface.

“Do you ever read something and feel like it’s written just for you?” Alfred asked, never tearing his gaze away from his tablet. This was the second book of yours he’d powered through, and the last.

You were new to the game but immensely talented, just the kind of customer the Homestead company wanted. But as a person? He could imagine himself being close to you. Whether that was a delusion fabricated out of loneliness, or a genuine feeling, that distinction didn’t matter anymore.

“I don’t do a lot of reading,” Arthur pondered.

“She’s good.”

“Who’s that?”

“(F/N).” He hummed.

“Ah. The sleeping girl.”

Alfred slid off his stool to pace around a bit. He blew his cheeks out as he came to this conclusion, as hard as it was for him to accept. And he relayed that well without saying a word, glowering at his friend.

“You know, I’m not saying the universe is evil, but it sure has a nasty sense of humor.” He muttered.

“How is that?” Arthur asked.

“You get to fly to another planet, but you’ll die along the way,” His eyes burned as he verbalized his sobering realities, his second one, even more so. “And you find this amazing girl right in front of you, but she’s completely out of reach.”

Even at nighttime, he found himself watching you. He liked the idea of having a conversation with you, just as he’d been pretending to these past several weeks. He liked the idea of you. Fantasizing was the closest he’d ever get to those desires, so he may as well knock himself out doing it--or was it?

When he put his cup down, his gaze went to the hibernation manual beside. And God forbid what ideas it gave him. His smile faded into an unsettled look, disturbed by the contents of his own mind.

He slammed the manual on the bar counter.

“Say you were trapped on a desert island, and you had the power to wish somebody there with you,” Alfred spoke restlessly like he’d lose his nerve the second he hesitated. “Then you wouldn’t be alone anymore. But you’d be stranding the person on the island. How do you… Would you make that wish?”

Arthur narrowed his eyes.

“I don’t know. I’ve never been on an island.”

“Okay, yeah, well, er, forget the island,” He relented.

“Ah.” The android nodded.

“Let’s say you… Figured out how to do something…” He began cautiously one second, only to lose his composure in the next. “That would make your life a million times better, but you knew it was wrong, and there’s no taking it back. How do you do the math?”

“Alfred, these are not robot questions,” The other warned, getting the man to exhale deeply.

He’d been reasoning with himself the whole time, trying to find some sort of justification for what couldn’t be justified. That became all the apparent when his stare grew haunted as he admitted what had been on his mind since it first occurred to him.

“I know how to wake (F/N) up.”

Next chapter: The sleeping girl

Tag list: @twilightlover2007, @my2phetaliaheadcanons, @chickenpecks, @sunnysssol

#never astounds me how fast Alfred turns from victim to perpetrator #update #passengers #passengers movie #alfredosauce50 #hetalia fanfiction #hetalia #hetalia x reader #hetalia fanfic #axis powers hetalia #axis powers ヘタリア #aph america x reader #aph america #America x reader #hws america #Alfred f Jones #hws england #aph england #movie crossover

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