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gay-for-the-snz · 1 month ago

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Day 9: Overdramatic Patient/Caretaker (M, cold)

This guy is suuuuch a drama queen and this was one of the first prompts I immediately assigned to someone so I could give it to him. Delving a little more into party dynamics, and enjoying a prettyboy (former) noble with a drippy, dramatic headcold. 2.4k

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He's practically wilted in the bed, still in his nightclothes--though the nicer set of them. If he's going to be seen, he isn't going to let them catch him dead in anything less than whatever the best he has on hand is. The handkerchiefs are piled on the blankets where he's abandoned them after their use.

"Alright, then, you're hardly dying." Corva's hand resting on his forehead is batted away churlishly. "You've caught a chill, you aren't on death's door."

"Ohh, let the poor bastard wilt if he must." Damian's taken to lounging on the chair at the side of the bed, his boots up on the mattress as he riffles a deck of cards. "He's clearly missing having a fleet of servants to tend to his every whim, day and night at his beck and call."

"You wouldn't last a day as a servant in my household."

"You wound me. Here I thought I would be your maid of all."

"You're horrid. I don't know why I even allow you into this room."

"Because," Laïla interjects, "you want all the attention you can get. Overdramatic is what you are."

He lets his lashes flutter, taking hold of the latest handkerchief with a series of shivery little gasps. "Hh...h-hdt'sshYUE!" He groans in the wake of it, sniffles wetly. He's sick as a dog, truly. He's not going to make it--or at least that's what he's claiming. They don't believe him, but he feels like he may wither at any moment and breathe his last.

And, of course, if no one is willing to pay him the attention he so clearly needs and deserves, he'll just force them to. He already made them stop travel early, to be able to rest in a town at an inn instead of in a tent in the middle of the wilderness where there will be no comforts or amenities aside from whatever they've brought and provided themselves. He deserves far more than that--in fact, he demands it.

So here they are, with him pitifully posted up in the bed, and his party members sitting around him. They're stuck with only one room--and it took a bit of haggling before finally dropping his name--and Laïla's promise of a performance--to secure even this one. The pulled strings have only gotten them this, and nothing more.

"You're going to have to move, you know, so that we can lay down as well."

"You're going to have to move me yourself." Corva moves to make good on this threat, and he immediately recants. "On reconsideration, I will give you my grace and allow you to lay down, but you must understand that you may wake next to a corpse come morning."

"Don't worry, lordship--I'll be here to keep watch over you all night." The rogue's lazy grin is disconcerting and insincere, and he can only imagine how many women have received this exact look from him before.

"I would do better alone than to rely on your patronage for my safety." He scoots over with a huff, but does nothing about the handkerchiefs littering the bed where they're intending to lay. They can move them themselves, he's busy languishing over here.

Laïla scoots in first, her frame warm against his side where she settles into the bed. Corva curls in beside her, the toned muscle of her frame on display in the nightclothes she's donned for the evening. The women are happy to ignore him, and he's intent on not allowing them to do so. He's much too important and ailing to be left alone and relegated to the back burner like this.

He can feel the need to sneeze building, and he allows it to happen unimpeded. Blushed nostrils twitch in irritation, and he turns towards them as if to ask a question. "Tomorrow, are we--hh-! HdtshYUE! 'dtsSHIEW!"

They both cry out in dismay and irritation, wiping the spray off of their skin. "What is wrong with you? You complained about this weeks ago when it was merely allergies from me, and now you're doing this when you're certainly catching?"

"Corva may be bound by an oath not to harm you, but I'm certainly not. Do you want to see the full extent of what a bard can do in combat right here in this inn?" Laïla puts a defensive hand in front of her wife, both as if to shield her, but more importantly to hold her back from reacting.

"I would never do anything to you on purpose," he lies. "I'm simply sick--you'd blame me for something out of my control? You'd make me feel guilty for something so simple as taking ill and being symptomatic? Shame on the both of you."

Damian doesn't interject, just flips the cards between his fingers with a little hum of amusement. He makes eye contact with him briefly, before pointedly ignoring him. He can't reward him by paying him much heed--he's got to play hard to get, lest the rogue get so too haughty and think that he can influence him in any way.

Laïla grabs hold of one of his horns, and pulls him closer by it. "You may be a noble where you come from, but in this room you're no more than any of the rest of us. We will see that you don't suffer under our care, but don't think that this means that we will wait on your hand and foot like we're the servants you're so proud of ordering around."

He fusses in protest at the treatment, bats her hands away from where she's grabbing him like he's an unruly kitten scruffed by its mother. "There's no need to handle me so roughly! I'm ill, you would treat a man on his deathbed like this?"

The rogue kicks back his chair, rocking it back onto the back legs and balancing it. "If you were truly on your deathbed, you would only be doing us a favor in sparing us of your incessant complaints."

"Corva, can't you lay on hands, cure me of this foul disease?"

"I could, but it would be a waste to use that on something so minor. I don't abuse my powers on a whim, especially if it's only because you've been complaining and inconvenienced. I think it will humble you to have to deal with something on your own for once--a test of character and moral fortitude."

"My gods! You're a cruel woman, aren't you? You'd abandon me, a poor wretch, in my moment of need because you think It would teach me some lesson?" He presses the back of one hand to his forehead, and falls limp against the pillows he's stacked like a nest to ease his weary body. "You'll speak ill of me when I've perished, I'm sure of it. I can't rely on any of you to keep my good name intact, nor to spare me this suffering."

The bard actually sits up over him, anger flashing in dark eyes. "Oh, come off it--in case you've forgotten, Stormweather, we've been quite accommodating to all of your fits thus far. We stopped early to let you sleep in an inn rather than traveling further and making camp, we've gotten you tinctures and tonics and lotions and potions and all manner of things from the local cleric--we have gone far out of our way for you, and you've treated us as if we've thrown you to a pack of dire wolves and slammed the door behind us. You're no noble--you're merely a selfish brat who's never learned to stand on his own."

He feels the sting of her words, some sharp little pain in him like a rough blow. She has proved herself quite fond of vicious mockery whenever she finds the opportunity for it. Corva reaches over her wife's shoulder, places a hand on his--cure wounds. He can feel the pain retreat from her act. "Laïla, love, let him be. No one is going to change anyone's minds, and we're all tired. We'd do well to rest, and see how we're faring at daybreak."

She shifts the arrangement of bodies, putting herself into the middle, and he and the bard each pointedly turn to face away from one another. "Yes, we'd all do well to rest. If I live to see the morning, we'll reassess then."

⁂

When he awakes, it's to someone shaking his shoulder. The light streaming in through the window tells him it's crept well past dawn, stretching further into the middle hours. They've let him sleep longer than they had said they would. He sniffles, and even that isn't enough to stop his nose from dripping onto the sheets as thin and watery as tears. He grimaces. Disgusting.

Laïla is the only person in the room with him still, and she hands him one of the handkerchiefs with a wince. The soft cloth is still painful on his nose, his skin so accustomed to much gentler conditions than their travels have been.

"Come, warlock. We've been overly indulgent in giving you your rest--I expect not to hear any complaints for at least the first hour of travel for it."

He makes it all of a half hour before he's taken to making them all know just how poorly he's feeling.

Midday sees him laying in the back of the cart with a hand dramatically splayed over his forehead, brows pinched together in misery and a sigh escaping his lips every moment or so. His nose is blushed a warm magenta, the red of irritation leeching through the lavender of his skin.

Damian is seated beside him, perched and watching the landscape rolling by out from beneath where the canvas cover has been rolled up to give them a view. He's hardly a scout, but he's perceptive enough to be an asset when keeping watch. Laïla is perched up front with the animals, the paladin sitting sentry at her side. He is the only one who isn't doing anything particularly useful--and how could they expect him to? He's practically dying.

"Hdt'shyUE!" He lets out an uncovered sneeze, and groans. His nose is leaking like a sieve, no matter how many times he tends to it with his handkerchief.

"You're a menace," the rogue says. "The rest of us will be in this same state soon enough, and you know we'll expect you to return the favor."

"What favor have you done me? I could understand a case for the women having done something for me, even as meager as it is, but you have done nothing aside from sitting somewhere in the same room and reading or playing cards or trying to chase any lady with a pulse and a bit of breath who hasn't already rejected you."

"You're wrong."

"Oh?"

"I chase the men, too."

He rolls his eyes in exasperation. "Yes, you're right. What a magnificent, irreplaceable service that's been to me. I'll be sure to return the favor if--if--you find yourself in a similar state."

"You're only setting yourself up to suffer, not even attempting to keep any of this to yourself. If you get Laïla sick, she'll be displeased, but manageable. If you get Corva sick...well, you'll see what I was talking about before."

He eyes the back of her head up front, the sunlight gleaming on her polished armor. "Isn't a paladin supposed to be immune to disease?"

"Many of them, certainly, but not all. Magical ailments she's relatively impervious. Common, natural ailments? Not so much."

"H-hdt-! 'dtsHIEW! Hdt'shYUUE!" Another pair of them tumble out of him uncovered, the cloud of spray catching the sunlight and the shine off of her armor like stardust in the daytime. He blows his nose, the sound long and liquid, and then collapses back with another sigh. "I'm the one who's ill, here. Why are we focusing on her hypothetical ailment rather than my very real one?"

"Because I know it drives you out of your mind to be ignored, when all you want is my attention."

He huffs and decides there's nothing to be gained by continuing to hang with this reprobate, instead climbing up front to wedge himself between the pair of women.

Laïla hums in acknowledgement of his presence. "You've decided to join us in the world of the living, I see?"

"I couldn't tolerate him as my only company for a second longer." And, of course, he needs the two of them to have it impressed upon them again just how miserable he is, and how much attention they should be paying him because he is sick and clearly this is a problem much larger than himself. One they should be doing something about.

He coughs, and though it isn't the most painful thing in the world, he groans in anguish as if it is, puts a hand to his throat with a little whimper.

"Laïla, my dearest love, maybe we ought to stop in town again tonight if we come across one...it would only divert us a small way from our path, and he does look like he's getting worse." She touches his forehead, and he feigns that he may swoon. One of the many perks of being a warlock, he supposes--it's always rather easy to deceive someone with a little theatricality. "You don't feel any warmer than usual, but you look like you're feeling very poorly."

"I am." Again, he blows his nose, wet and miserable sounding, in a way that makes the pair of them grimace. "I think a warm bed in an inn would do me a world of good...I'm already getting worse as it is, I don't think keeping me out like this, forcing me to sleep in a tent on the ground in the cold, would be good for my condition, frail as I am."

Laïla looks doubtfully past him to her wife, but relents at the softly pleading expression she's met with. "Fine, fine. If he isn't improving by early evening, we'll make a diversion to set up in an inn for the night. Consider yourself lucky that Corva is so committed to the wellbeing of others--more than her own, I might add."

"Corva, you're a saint." He clasps her hand in his, before he crawls back into the back to convalesce in peace.

Damian raises a brow at the little performance, but Despair simply hums in satisfaction, secure in the knowledge that he's won himself a comfortable bed for the night.

#back to back Despair prompts? it's more likely than you think #my sister actually picked this one when I asked her to give me a number 1-11 #but it worked out well because I was still thinking about these guys and wanted to write more #sickfic #snzfic #snz #sicktember 2024

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vyvesvi · 3 years ago

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tbh i'm a tiny bit optimistic about fromis being under pledis? i thought they were gonna disband but this might mean that there are actual plans in the works? i don't like pledis AT ALL but let's wait and see

#fromis_9 #no bc tbh...name a company that isn't misogynistic #companies with recent gg debuts dont count because if they haven't proved themselves to be misogynistic they will!!!!#honestly hell is hot for pledis bc yehana and sungyeon are still there so what are they gonna do with them now #but at least f9 might not be fighting for attention bc they have a different market than any of the other hybe groups?#idk but otr wasn't working so change makes me happy #also...they were already lowkey a pledis project since debut so like. now its just official #honestly i dont think things will change very much #they wont do vlives i guess? but vlive is ending like this year anyways #🤡#i hope someone in the hybe industrial capitalist complex likes them though i need someone to pour a lil money into them #use those connections #i feel first win on the horizon if things go even slightly better than they were under otr #but we shall see #watch me recant this like tomorrow #im in a contrary mood

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hyuckssunchip · 4 years ago

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Blooming Pt. 2

Pairings: Jisung x Reader, ft. nct dream, lucas (honorary member of dream)

Words: 5.5K

Warnings: Language (there is almost always language in my writings), angst, fluff

Synopsis:

Love isn’t as easy as it seems, Park Jisung is an advocate of that. A blooming relationship that has prematurely ceased can be re-sparked years later, or can it? Will Jisung be able to overcome his fears in order to succeed in what he deems love?

Part 1 | Part 2

“What’s this?” Renjun picked up the textbook on the kitchen table.

Jeno looked up from his laptop briefly, shrugging before returning to the screen. “Jisung threw it there earlier today.”

Renjun picked up the book, getting a good look at the cover, “The Introduction to the female reproductive system? What’s Jisung doing with a book like this?” He pulled the receipt from the back cover, glancing at it.

Jeno finally stood up from his seat, peeking over his shoulder and shaking his head with a frown.

“Jisung said not to touch it.” Jaemin entered the rooming, sitting across from the boys, munching on a snack. “He’s got to return it later.”

“Why?” Renjun asked, sending a look at Jaemin who was spreading crumbs. “The receipt says he bought it today.”

Jaemin grinned sheepishly, getting the message, and he wiped the crumbs into the palm of his hands.

“I don’t know. Probably the wrong version or something.” Jaemin stood up, dumping his handful into the trash.

“But Jisung’s not even taking a class remotely related to this. Why would he buy it in the first place?” Renjun pushed.

“I don’t know.” Jaemin shook his head at him, “Why don’t you ask him?”

“Ask who what?” Chenle asked, entering the kitchen to grab an apple.

“Jisung bought a weird book.” Jeno spouted whilst typing away.

Chenle laughed, “Of course he did, no wonder he’s been in such a happy mood.”

“What?” Renjun asked.

“Yeah, he’s had the dumbest smile all over his face since he got back.” Chenle took a large bite out of the apple.

“Where did he go?” Jaemin cocked his head, wandering around the kitchen for another snack.

“I don’t know, probably the bookstore.”

Jisung emerged from his room, wearing a grin that very similarly resembled Chenle’s expression. He hummed a tune that soon overtook the rest of the hushed chatter, the other boys simply stared at him. Even Jeno stopped his typing, watching Jisung intently.

“What’s got you so happy?” Jaemin asked leaning in close to the unsuspecting boy.

“Hmmm? Oh. Nothing.” Jisung just grinned back.

“Right. Nothing.” Renjun squinted his eyes at him, with a sarcastic tone.

Jisung couldn’t help the smile that seemed to grow. “Actually I-”

“Guess who?” The door slammed shut.

“Haechan, seriously. Just text us before you come over. One of these days you’re gonna give someone a heart attack.” Renjun scolded.

“Really Renjun? You’re not eighty, I’m not going to scare you to death.” Haechan brushed past the muttering boy.

“I wouldn’t put it past you.”

Haechan chose to ignore it if he had heard. “So what are we talking about today?”

Chenle perked up, being the first to offer information. “Jisung bought a weird book, and he’s super happy about it.”

Mark frowned at Jisung, “What?”

In return Jisung spared him a glance before correcting the previous statement, “I have a date.”

“Dude no way.” Mark clapped Jisung on the back, which consequently had him stumbling forward a few steps.

“With who?” Jaemin creeped forward with interest.

“Guess.” There was a cheeky grin that brightened his features.

“No fucking way.” Haechan let out unintentionally. “I mean, congrats Jisung.”

“When?” Renjun asked, more than slightly intrigued.

“Friday.” He smiled at his feet, “I asked her today after we got back from the bookstore. Also, that guy? Not her boyfriend.”

Jeno spoke up, his curiosity getting the better of him. “What’s the book for though?”

“Oh.” Jisung turned red, “I told her I had to buy a textbook too, and I just grabbed a random book. I didn’t mean to grab that one.” He scratched the back of his neck, in embarrassment.

Chenle snorted, “Wow, some luck.”

But Jisung didn’t feel the same sentiment, as he was still over the moon about your date. He didn’t mind the embarrassment for a moment, the ending result was well worth the sacrifice.

“So where are you guys going?” Haechan asked, wicked thoughts already entering his head.

“No. The answer is no.” Jisung’s smile dropped for the first time. “I’m not stupid, and I don’t want you showing up.”

Haechan playfully scowled, “I’m just trying to help, just give you a little push is all.”

“I don’t need a push. I got a date just fine without you.” Jisung retorted, stealing a cookie from Jaemin as he left to return to his room.

“Do any of you know?” Haechan immediately turned to ask the others.

They all shook their heads, even if they did know they wouldn’t tell Haechan. After all they were rather hoping Jisung and you would get together, and the chances would significantly slim if Haechan were to get involved.

“So Jake told me Lucas has been raving about you since your last date? What’d you do? Sleep with him?” Alex snickered at the thought.

“Yeah.” You deadpanned, not taking your eyes off your book.

There was a loud thud from behind you and you tried your hardest not to laugh.

“What?!” You turned just in time to see Alex bound over to you, skidding across the floor.

A smile betrayed you, “I’m just kidding. I don’t know, we just had a good time.”

“Bitch.” She muttered under breath, obviously annoyed by your lie. “I was really excited. You didn’t have to do that.”

You giggled, “Is my love life really that interesting?”

“Yes.” She crossed her arms, “I’m bored because I’ve already got a boyfriend. I need to live vicariously through someone.”

You frowned at her before returning to your book, “Well, just because I feel kinda bad for lying to you, I’m gonna let you in on a little secret.”

You didn’t have to look up to know she was leaning in intensely, “What?”. It came out as a whisper and you could see how badly she wanted to hear it.

“I’ve got a date.”

Alex leaned back with a sigh, evidently unimpressed. “That’s your secret? I mean I already assumed Lucas was gonna ask again. I wanted something more juicy.”

You bit your lip with a smile, “It’s not with Lucas.”

That had her. “Holy shit. Who?”

You glanced at the wall that separated you and your neighbors, and she immediately understood. “Jisung?”

For a moment it was unusually silent. Then she let out an ear-deafening squeal. “Oh my god! He finally asked you? Or did you ask him? When did this happen? Why didn’t you tell me?”

The frenzy of questions had you laughing at her excitement. “He asked me just a few hours ago.” You couldn’t hide the smile any longer, teeth now on full view.

She scooted closer to you, grabbing a hold of your arm, “Tell me everything.”

And so you did. For the most part it was you recanting your story, and every once in a while Alex would squeal and smack you in excitement.

Eventually her excitement died down, after all the girl only has so much energy.

“What about Lucas?” She asked softly, glancing at your profile.

You picked at the page nervously, hissing when you got a paper cut. Immediately you stuck your finger in your mouth, a habit you had since you were a child.

Although Jisung asking you out was something you had wished for since the moment you met him, you knew it wasn’t right to just drop Lucas like that. Besides you liked the guy, he made you feel comfortable, and not to mention he really knew how to lay it on thick. He was a natural flirt.

Of course you liked being flirted with, doted on. And Lucas really was a great guy. But in all honesty you couldn’t really see a future with him. He just didn’t send flutters in your stomach the way that Jisung did.

You pursed your lips in thought, mulling over how you were going to go about the situation.

“I don’t know. We’re supposed to meet for lunch tomorrow. I guess I’ll tell him then.” You sighed, not liking how you were suddenly thrust into this situation. Why did two great guys have to come at the same time?

Alex nodded, understanding your predicament. She also understood the way that you felt about Jisung.

Feelings that didn’t go away after two years, meant something, didn’t they?

“I’m really sorry. I think you’re a great guy, really.” You paused, watching his reaction. You had just dumped everything on to Lucas, and you couldn’t tell what he was feeling. Resentment? Anger? Disappointment?

But he just nodded with a tight smile. It clearly wasn’t genuine.

“I hate it when people say this, but it isn’t you it’s me. Really. You’re a fantastic guy, and I think anybody would be lucky to have you as a partner. But… I just can’t ignore my feelings, you know?”

You bit your lip with a frown, looking up from under your lashes.

He laid his hand on top of yours, just holding it for a moment.

“I understand. And there’s absolutely no hard feelings.” This time the smile seemed less forced. “I wished things could’ve worked out, but things don’t always go the way we want right?”

You sent him a soft smile, guilt still plaguing you.

“And just so you know, if you ever want to hit me up, I’m all for it.” He paused, glancing at you, “Whether you want a friend or something more.”

In silence, the two of you looked at each other for a moment.

“Y/N?” A voice interrupted you, making you widen your eyes.

Why did he always seem to catch you in compromising situations?

“Jisung.” You froze, unable to move or find the words to explain yourself. This obviously didn’t look good, here you were on what looked to be a ‘date’ just after accepting Jisung.

But he did know the situation, he did know that you were seeing Lucas. But it didn’t mean that he was keen on seeing you with him.

It seemed like everyone was left speechless, including a very wide-eyed Haechan, who you would’ve thought never could happen.

Jisung’s eyes flickered to the way Lucas’s hand enveloped yours, and you immediately pulled away, brushing your hair behind your ear out of nerves.

Looking between the two of you, Lucas seemed to get a pretty good idea of what was going on. He stood up and sent you a soft smile, before turning back to the group.

“I’m gonna pay for it,” he cut you off as you tried to protest. “I’ll see you around sometime.” And with one last glance at the boys he shouldered past them.

The silence lasted for quite a while.

“Guys, there’s a table- Oh, hi Y/N.” Jaemin had walked in belatedly, missing the situation, and was way too bright for the circumstance.

Renjun elbowed him in the side, earning a wide-eyed look of confusion.

You waited, hoping for Jisung to say something, because for some reason your mouth wouldn’t move. Words you had to say, dying in the back of your throat.

But Jisung didn’t have anything to say. So he left.

You sent a shy smile to the boy next door, but he quickly ducked past his door, leaving you with the sound of the slamming.

You bit your lip. You didn’t blame him for being upset at what he saw. You would be too. You just thought that he would at least talk or look at you by now.

Even your random run ins with Jaemin seemed to have an awkward air, like he would get in trouble if he talked to you.

“This is exactly what I didn’t want.” You ranted frustratedly to your roommate. “Our neighbors are avoiding me like the plague, and I can’t even get a smile out of Jaemin. Jaemin! The dude doesn’t know what it means to not smile, and now suddenly he’s a pro at it.”

You huffed, glaring at Alex. At this she put her hands up as if to say she wasn’t the one who didn’t smile at you.

You collapsed into the chair, shoving your head into your crossed arms.

“Why don’t you just try to talk to him then? Clear things up.” She asked gently, as though she was worried this suggestion might set you off again.

“You don’t think I want to? He avoids me at all costs. If I can’t even get him to look at me, how’m I supposed to have a conversation with him?”

Alex shrugged, thinking the better of meddling again, choosing to retreat to her room to leave you with your own thoughts.

However, unbeknownst to you, the same chaos was occurring right next door.

“Should we talk to him?” Jaemin whispered while staring at the hallway, as if suddenly Jisung would pop out and let him have it.

“Does it look like he wants to be talked to?” Chenle asked sarcastically, “I don’t know about you, but I like my limbs intact.”

Jeno nodded, “I’ve never seen him this upset before. We should just let him cool off.”

“Cool off? He’s been cooling off for the past week, that’s not helping.” Renjun muttered angrily. He had unfortunately been a victim of Jisung’s wrath the night after the incident.

“He’s just upset. I mean can you blame him? The girl he’s been in love with for the last two years was holding hands and obviously on a date with the dude, even after Jisung asked her out.” Chenle whisper-shouted. Even he wasn’t going to risk Jisung hearing this.

“But he knew.” Renjun said, “He knew she was going on dates with this other guy. I mean what does he expect, she’d just drop him like that?”

Although Renjun had logic in his statement, none of the guys seemed to back him up.

“But I mean, the day after? And Jisung was over the moon when she accepted.” Chenle argued back.

“It’s not like she wanted Jisung to see them together.” Renjun hissed.

“Oh that makes it so much better?” Chenle wasn’t one to back down easily, and his voice was starting to rise.

“That’s not what I’m saying.” Renjun huffed out, “It’s not like she wanted to hurt him by having him see that. Besides she may have already planned the date, or have a reason. He should at least talk to her-”

“Shhh.” Jaemin threw a hand over Renjun’s mouth at the sight of Jisung leaving his room.

“Thanks. I really appreciate you guys talking about me behind my back.” Jisung glared at the group. “Why don’t you go over and talk shit about me with Y/N? I’m sure you’d get along nicely.”

“Well it’s not like we can talk to your face, can we?” Renjun shouted, fed up with Jisung’s mood.

Jisung scowled once more before slamming the front door behind him.

“Well that went well.” Jaemin mumbled, trying to lighten the mood.

“Jisung!” You stumbled down the stairs, trying to catch up with the blonde haired boy before he escaped.

But he didn’t even turn at the sound of your voice, and he seemed to hurry up as if avoiding you at all costs.

Eventually you got the hint and stopped in your tracks. This had been going on for too long now, and you were fed up with the fact that no matter how hard you tried, he just chose to ignore you.

So you plucked up your last ounce of courage, yelling at him from behind, with clenched fists.

“If you’re not going to even pretend like you’re interested, why did you ask me out?” You asked angrily, feeling a choking feeling rise in your throat.

This caught his attention and he turned to face you with a frown, not quite understanding what you meant.

You were embarrassed and angry, feeling humiliated at the thought of Jisung not actually liking you. But he just stood and stared at you, no emotion even remotely hinting at the fact that he wanted to try, or that he cared. You had passed up on Lucas for this? You passed up on a great guy for someone who refused to even talk to you?

“I can’t believe that I picked you over Lucas.” You mumbled out, hand angrily wiping at the tears that had already escaped. “You know what, forget our date. If you were even planning on showing up.” You knew this was harsh, but to be fair, he wasn’t exactly being the nicest person right now.

Jisung’s eyebrows flew up towards his hairline, hand shyly trying to comfort you, but he didn’t have the courage to actually do it. He just watched.

You were pissed. You had tried multiple times to reach out to Jisung and try to reconcile, but you were met with no cooperation.

It felt as if you were reliving the time when you were texting with each other. He felt unresponsive, uninterested.

Of course, you knew that your actions could’ve been misconstrued or misinterpreted, but he hadn’t even let you explain.

Now the agenda of avoiding one another was mutual. You didn’t go out of your way to evade him, but you certainly didn’t try to see him.

It wasn’t until a week and a half later that you had your first interaction with Jaemin again.

“Hey Y/N.” He smiled at you, not as big as usual, but a smile nonetheless.

“Jaemin? So we’re talking now?” You couldn’t help but be snarky, something that you instantly regretted at the sight of his fallen face. “Wait, sorry. I didn’t mean that.”

When you sighed, you noticed that familiar look on his face, guilt.

But you chose to ignore it and move on, “What’s up?”

You gripped the strap of your bag, grounding yourself for the moment.

“Nothing. I just wanted to say hi.” But the smile was fading fast.

He continued down the stairs, taking a left at the bottom.

“Jaemin?” He turned to face you. “Are you busy?”

His eyes widened and he grinned whilst shaking his head. You rushed down the stairs finding yourself less than a foot from him. “I was going to the park to study. Do you maybe wanna hang out?”

“Where were you?” Chenle asked with watchful eyes as Jaemin entered the apartment.

“At the park.” It was nonchalant, but Chenle noticed his shifty eyes.

“Why?”

Jaemin frowned, still avoiding eye contact. “Can I not just go to the park?”

Chenle narrowed his eyes, but ignored the statement as Renjun entered the room. Almost immediately there was a heavy tension over the room.

Renjun ignored his presence and Chenle scoffed, promptly leaving the room.

“What was that?” Renjun asked, filling up a cup of water.

Jaemin hesitated to respond, but knowing Renjun he figured he would find out soon enough.

“I went to the park… with Y/N today.” He whispered the last part, glancing at Renjun’s reaction. At this the latter raised his eyebrows, interested at the confession.

“I’m surprised there wasn’t more yelling.” He muttered, turning to face a very guilty looking Jaemin.

“I didn’t exactly tell him I went with her, he was just suspicious.” Jaemin bit his lip nervously, and eventually broke down, “I just wanted to talk with her. Is it wrong if we hang out? She’s a good person… I like her.”

Renjun’s eyes widened.

“Not like that. I just like her as a person, she’s easy to talk to.” Jaemin backtracked, understanding what the look in his eyes meant.

Renjun nodded, looking slightly relieved for a moment before covering it up with a stony look. He drained his glass quickly before turning to leave.

Just as he was about to exit the room he paused, “I don’t see what’s so heinous about hanging out with your neighbor. Honestly, they didn’t even date.”

After this Jaemin felt slightly better about his ‘betrayal’. Just because his roommates couldn’t be civil with you, didn’t mean that he couldn’t. After all no one really knew the whole story, right?

“Why do you look like that?”

Jaemin looked up from his spot in the middle of the kitchen to find Jeno with his arms hugging his laptop.

“Huh?”

“You look like you’re out of it… Did something happen?” Jaemin could trust and confide in Jeno with many things, this was one of them.

Jeno sat at the table, softly laying his computer on the surface. Jeno wasn’t really one to freely show his emotions, even with his best friends, but here he began to look nervous. He bit his lip, glancing at Jaemin, wanting to reassure him, but not giving him false assurance.

“I’m a horrible friend aren’t I?” Jaemin mumbled, digging his palms into his face.

“No.” Jeno breathed out, “I just wouldn’t let Jisung find out. Or Chenle for that matter.”

Jaemin looked up, wincing at Jeno’s words. “So you don’t think it was so wrong of me?”

“I’m not saying it’s wrong, but it’s not right either.” Jeno sighed, watching his friend’s face fall. “Jisung and Y/N are in a weird situation. Honestly I’d rather just stay out of it, I don’t need to be picking sides.”

Jeno stood up suddenly, retrieving his laptop and leaving the room as abruptly as he came in. There was no sign of why Jeno even entered in the first place.

This didn’t make Jaemin feel any better. But he heeded Jeno’s words, he didn’t want to choose sides. But he really liked you, why can’t he just enjoy your company?

“Jaemin? Y/N?” Renjun blinked twice at the scene, glancing between the two of you.

He wasn’t going to lie, there was a part of him that knew he could run into you both here. Maybe subconsciously he wanted to find you.

“Renjun.” You breathed out, a worried look casting over your face. “It’s not what it looks like really.”

The last thing you wanted was Jaemin to get in trouble.

Renjun just nodded, cutting you off. “I know.” His lips formed a tight line, “Mind if I join you?”

Both Jaemin and yourself were shocked, but immediately gesturing for him to join you. He flopped onto the blanket exhaustedly, closing his eyes and just feeling the breeze.

After a moment of silence he reopened his eyes, sighing deeply, “I’m so tired of being in that apartment. I just feel so frustrated and closed in there, like I can’t breathe.”

You looked at your lap, feeling guilty for that. If it weren’t for you, neither Jaemin or Renjun would be here right now. Neither of them would be feeling this rivet between their friends.

You mumbled out a faint apology.

There was a sigh from his direction. “I wasn’t digging for an apology. I was just venting. Honestly, I don’t even blame you.”

Glancing up at him, you noticed he had his eyes clenched shut, head tilted towards the sky.

“I’m still sorry though.” You rushed your next words to stop his protests. “Let’s be real, if it weren’t for me, this all never would’ve happened between you guys. This is exactly why I didn’t want to start anything again.”

Jaemin frowned, shaking his head. “But you couldn’t have known, what if something really great came out of it? What if something really great can still come out of it?”

Renjun glanced at your distraught expression, he didn’t mean to upset you with his rant.

“But it’s not going to. I mean,” You paused, hesitating to say the next words, “I don’t know if you guys know the whole story between us, but it feels the exact same as when we were texting before. I just get the feeling that he doesn’t actually like me like that, maybe he just likes the thought of it.”

You trailed off at the sight of their faces.

“Are you kidding me? That boy, and he’s going to kill me for saying this, but he’s been in love with you for the past two years. Like, no joke, there was a time when he had nothing to talk about, except for you. Trust me when I say he likes you.”

Frustration boiled up inside of you, “Then why doesn’t he try? I tried so hard to talk to him and explain what he saw, but he just avoids me. It’s the same as before, if he doesn’t think I’m worth at least that much, then why should I put in all that effort?”

You were starting to get worked up with Renjun interrupted. “Because that’s Jisung. I hate to say it, but that’s the way he’s wired. He’s really shy, and cautious when it comes to this sort of stuff. I don’t want to use the word insecure, but he really doesn’t think he’s good enough sometimes. I think that when he even comes across the thought or the chance that he’s not good enough for you, he just shuts you out, you know? It’s like a defense mechanism. It’s not that he doesn’t want to try, just that he’s afraid.”

Jaemin nodded softly in agreement. At this point you were beginning to see why they were all such good friends. Even at a time like this they were still trying to help him, and never once did they put him down.

That made you feel even worse.

You sighed, leaning back on your forearms and staring up at the clouds, head swirling with new thoughts.

“Oh, so you can tell me to my face that you weren’t just with Y/N? What kind of friend are you?” Chenle raised his voice, glaring at the two of them.

Jisung stared at the wall beside them, silently brooding over the situation.

Haechan stood up from his seat on the couch and turned, shocked at the sight before him. Mark was wide-eyed staring over the back of the couch.

“What are you-”

“Can you even call yourself a friend?” The words were spat out, making everyone in the room flinch, including Jisung.

Jisung closed his eyes, blocking out the situation. He never wanted things to go this far.

“It’s not-”

“How are you even able to be in the same room and not feel guilty? Huh?!” At this point Chenle was losing control.

Haechan moved to Chenle’s side, tugging at his arm to make him stop. But Chenle only threw his hand off him in anger.

“Taking sides with that-”

“Stop it.”

With those two words it seemed like the world stopped with it.

“What?” Chenle all but whispered out. He was not alone in the confusion.

“Stop it.” Jisung finally took a look around the room, frowning at what he saw in front of him. “This is ridiculous, fighting over this. I don’t care if you hang out with her or not.”

“But-”

“This whole thing was blown way out of proportion. I was stupid and immature to not even talk to her. Honestly I’m more mad at myself than at her.” To say that everyone was shocked was an understatement.

“I’m so sick of this. This is why I didn’t want to do this in the first place.” He sighed standing up. “I’m done being mad without an explanation.”

Jisung treaded heavily towards his room, making up his mind that this was going to be the last time they fought over you. Tomorrow he would clear things up.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

“Just a minute!” You rubbed your eyes blearily, glancing at your phone. 7 am, on a Saturday?

You flattened your hair the best you could, throwing on a sweatshirt hastily as you opened the door.

You sucked your breath, heart dropping at the sight of Jisung in front of you.

“Jisung?” Suddenly you felt very bare, standing in front of him with a sweatshirt and your pajamas. But you pushed away the embarrassment, caving to the pent up anger and humiliation that you still felt.

You frowned at him, “What do you want?”

He visibly winced at the tone, biting his lip anxiously. “Could- can we talk?”

But to be honest, you didn’t really want to talk with him at the moment. “Now’s not a good time.”

To be fair you did have an appointment soon. Not ridiculously soon that you couldn’t manage to squeeze in a talk, but you weren’t going to try very hard.

“Oh.” He ruffled his hair nervously. “Um… when do you have time?” He asked, this time not willing to let go so easily.

For a moment you thought about telling him that you simply didn’t want to face him, that you wouldn’t ever have time for him. But even you knew that was far too cruel. And to be honest, a talk was what you wanted in the first place.

“Lunch?” You mumbled out, “I can do noon.”

He was quick to agree, and soon enough you were left alone in your apartment again. Empty and quiet on a Saturday morning, as it should be, but for some reason you felt uneasy.

It seemed that Jisung was keeping a very keen eye out for you, because the moment you walked through the door, his eyes locked with yours.

He waved you over as enthusiastically as he could, which wasn’t very much. He could feel the heavy air already as you averted your eyes.

You felt a twinge of flutters in your stomach, but you pushed them down. This was the first time, since you had gone to the bookstore, that you had spent time together, just the two of you.

It felt like a date, but it was far from it.

Jisung cleared his throat awkwardly, “I heard the pasta is really good here.”

You raised your eyebrows at the suggestion, choosing to be as civil as you could. You weren’t here to cause another fight, or whatever happened between the two of you, you were here to reconcile.

“Really, then I’ll try the Carbonara.” A small smile was tacked on at the end of your sentence as you noticed Jisung eyeing you nervously.

He smiled back.

Then he set the menu down.

He sighed deeply before continuing, “First off, I really want to apologize for the way I treated you. I was avoiding you and acting like a jerk, really. I just… when we saw you at the diner, I was just slammed with a bunch of emotions and I didn’t know how to deal with it. I know that’s a shitty excuse, but I just couldn’t handle it, and then I think a part of me was embarrassed by the way that I acted, so I avoided you more. But then things blew up. Everything fell apart with my friends, then they started fighting and picking sides, and I realized that none of this was worth it. I was mad and upset for no reason.”

He stopped, weary of your expression before continuing. “I don’t know if I even deserve an explanation, or a second chance.”

Jisung must have lost confidence, as he wavered at the end of his sentence.

You plucked up the courage that you had, nodding in agreement.

“I think you deserve an explanation.” You sighed, thinking back to the moment they saw you. “Lucas... we had set up a date before you had even asked me, and I thought it would be wrong to ditch him, especially without explanation. When you walked in, I had actually just told him… about you.”

Your throat suddenly felt dry and you reached for your glass. “It didn’t feel right to see both of you at the same time, whether I liked you both or not. I’m going to be honest with you, Lucas is a great guy, I would be extremely happy with someone like him, but...But he doesn’t make me feel the way you make me feel.”

You glanced up through your eyelashes, weary of his expression, quickly moving on after your confession.

“And you’re right, I really think that things blew way out of proportion, that all could’ve been solved with a conversation, it didn’t need to wait this long.”

He nodded, admitting to his fault. But his mind kept wandering back to what you had said.

The way he made you feel?

He felt a sudden rush of giddiness, before he managed to hide it.

By the time the food had arrived you were well into your conversation, both of you had agreed to move past this. It wasn’t going to be easy to forget, and maybe that was the best way to move forward with your relationship.

You caught up with each other, Jisung telling stories of the stupid things that he and his friends do, mostly Haechan. The most recent of his escapades having to do with a deck of cards and a street lamp on a particularly cold night.

Jisung reveled at the sound of your laughter, cursing himself for waiting this long to talk to you. Why had he been so afraid? What had stopped him before?

“So how exactly do I make you feel?” He asked teasingly, whilst wiggling his eyebrows.

You laughed nervously at him, realizing that maybe it was a mistake to let him get so comfortable with you.

Or maybe it meant the start of something great.

Part 1

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lisbonsteresa · 4 years ago

Text

Fallout (post 2x12)

The day after the food festival was the busiest day Bess had ever seen at the Claw. Winning the chowder competition had brought in - or maybe brought back - wave after wave of diners, and by the end of the day she was exhausted but happy (and very proud to say that she had not dropped a single dish). She sat at the bar, resting her feet and marrying the ketchups while George took care of the last few stragglers and Ace -

Well, Ace was staring intently at the closed office door with a sour look on his face. The same door that had shut behind Nancy and Nick five minutes earlier after she’d pulled him aside and quietly asked to talk to him in private.

Bess could hear murmured voices coming from inside, and while she couldn’t deny that part of her was dying to know what they were being so secretive about, she was more than a little surprised to see Ace so interested. “You know,” she began, setting the ketchup bottles back onto the bar and sidling over to lean against it next to Ace, “instead of trying to bore a hole through the door with that glare, you could send me in. I’m very good at ‘accidentally overhearing’ things”.

She’d expected that to get a chuckle out of him, or at least a smile, but if anything his expression only darkened. “No thanks.” He said flatly. “I already know what they’re talking about.”

“And are you planning on bringing the rest of us into the loop?” She could feel her face falling into something dangerously close to a pout. “Platanchors are meant to share things, you know - that’s what I’m here for.” He didn’t respond and his eyes stayed fixed on the door. “Is this about your brother?” she tried instead. “Did he make contact with you again? Is that where you and Nancy went yesterd-”

“Bess, please just drop it.” he interrupted, pushing off from the bar and stalking towards the storeroom.

She watched him go, caught in shock for a moment at his brush off, before she rushed after him. He was already fiddling with his locker by the time she caught up, jabbing maybe a bit too hard at his hunched shoulder. “No I will not ‘just drop it’! I understand that this is a sore subject for you Ace, and I know you and Nancy have your own….thing going on,” he turned towards her with a pained expression at this, but she was too fired up to wonder why. “but you are my best friend, and if you think I’m just going to let you stand around sulking when I might be able to do something about it -”

“Hey!” George’s voice cut in from across the room as she poked her head through the doorway. “Can we save the dramatics for a closed restaurant? We just started getting people back in the door, and I don’t want whatever’s going on here” - a sudden “What?!” in Nick’s voice came from the direction of the office - “…or there to scare away the night owls.”

Bess turned away from Ace with a huff, perching herself on the bench with her back to him and crossing her arms in annoyance. “I’ll stop being dramatic when Ace stops keeping secrets.”

“Really? We can’t have one day of peace?” George sighed as she crossed the room, stopping in front of the bench and staring expectantly at Ace with her arms folded and an eyebrow raised. “Alright, spill it string bean”

“It’s not a secret” he protested weakly, dropping onto the bench next to Bess and swinging his legs over so they were facing the same way, avoiding eye contact the whole time. “I just don’t want to to talk about it.”

“Then you shouldn’t have let me get involved,” George snorted, “because now you’re not leaving without telling us what’s going on”

Ace looked back and forth between them, his face utterly miserable, before leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees and stare at the floor. “Nancy recanted her testimony.”

“She what?!” It was hard to tell who between George and Bess looked more shocked.

“She went to the DA and told her she no longer believes Everett was responsible for the Bonny Scot sinking.”

“No she did not -” George spun on her heel before even finishing her sentence and marched up the stairs out of the room. A moment later they could hear the office door click open and slam closed, and her voice joined the muffled (but rapidly increasing in volume) conversation happening inside.

Bess looked almost beside herself. “But I don’t understand….why - how could she do that? She has more reason to distrust the Hudsons than almost anyone. With everything she knows about their shady dealings…what they did to that crew…what they did to Lucy?” Ace’s face grew more and more pained with every word. “Nancy doesn’t want anything to do with them; she hates even being in the same sentence as Everett…why would she help him like this?”

“Because of me.” Ace’s voice was dull as he lifted his head to finally look her in the eye.

“What?”

“This guy, Daniel West, he wanted information that Nancy and I helped Grant find. My brother.” He added, answering Bess’s question before it left her mouth, but continuing on before she could even think to form the countless others his bare-bones explanation brought up. “He grabbed me at the festival and used me as a bargaining chip. To save me, Nancy had to give him the information. And to keep the information from getting to the wrong people, she had to call Celia -”

“And Celia didn’t wait to cash in a favor in return.” Bess finished for him, horrified understanding flooding her face.

Ace nodded sullenly. “And now a murder is probably going to go free and Nancy has to watch her bio-family cheat justice again because of what she did and it’s my fault.”

“Oh Ace no, it’s not your fault.” Bess murmured, wrapping her arm around his shoulders in an attempt to give any kind of reassurance she could. “There’s no way you could have known what that West guy was willing to do. We’ll just have to find another way to beat the Hudsons, but no one is to blame for this, and I know Nancy would say the same thing. I mean she would probably have done what she did for anyo-”

“But she didn’t do it for ‘anyone’, did she?” Ace finally snapped, springing up from the bench and leaving Bess’s arm to drop back to her side with a smack as he paced back and forth, his face contorted with more anger and guilt than she had ever seen him express before. “She did it for me, Bess! And now not only do I have the deaths of everyone on that ship on my conscience; I have the death of Nancy’s integrity too!”

“Don’t worry.” a weak voice called out, and they both looked up suddenly to see Nancy standing in the doorway to the kitchen, hands twisting in the strap of her bag and eyes wet. “I can’t speak for anyone on the Bonny Scot, but I’m pretty sure my integrity died the moment I found out I’m a Hudson.” It almost seemed like she was trying to make the words into a joke, but her mouth kept twisting into a grimace instead of a grin, and tears had started streaming down her face. She waved Bess back when she moved to get up and comfort her, then with a watery “See you tomorrow” she ran down the steps and out of the Claw, the back door slamming behind her with a bang that shook the bulletin board hanging on the wall next to it.

Ace rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet for a beat, looking like he was having a fierce argument with himself before dragging a hand through his hair with a frustrated groan and following Nancy out of the building. A strained call of “Nancy, wait -” floated into the storeroom before the door closed with another tremendous bang and Bess was left sitting on the bench alone, with her head in her hands, wondering how in the world they were ever going to fix this.

#ndff #i - dunno #me: i really hope things don't get TOO bad with the crew after this episode #also me: but what if they DO #nancy drew cw

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dindjarinbae · 4 years ago

Text

Four Words, Fourteen Letters (Din Djarin x reader)

requested by @insertcoolnamee: DIN OWNS MY HEART that's all. Like you could write about Din dropping hints that he wants to marry the reader?

second request by anon: Hi could you please do a part 3 to All My Love series cuz OH MAN ITS TOO GOOD I NEED MORE SO MUCH MORE

okay hi so basically, i fused these two requests together and made this. i am so sorry it is so short but i am dying in recovery from surgery so pls forgive. im going to be working on other requests for the time being so my request box is still closed, but if you ever need anything, my message box is ALWAYS open. i promise im nice. OKAY LOVE U ALL.

WARNINGS: none, just fluffy

WORD COUNT: 1379

READ PART ONE HERE

READ PART TWO HERE

There was seldom peace on the Razor Crest. Usually the kid was causing some havoc or there was an unrelentingly annoying bounty, sometimes there was just Din getting grumpy, and then the times it was Grogu crying, which in turn would break your heart and you’d have to cry along with him.

But not today. And Din was thankful for that. As he climbed down from the cockpit and let his eyes settle upon you and the sleeping baby in your lap as you sat on the floor against the wall, he realized something. He wanted you around forever.

He had always wanted you around, always. You made him happy, you and him shared so much love, he was simply full of bliss around you. But by forever... forever meant he wanted to put a pretty ring on your finger and have you take his last name.

Din Djarin wanted to marry you.

The only problem was that he didn’t really know how to ask. He had never been a very emotional person, and he’d never been good with words either. So he started very simple to see if you’d catch on.

The first hint he dropped was two days later when the three of you were all walking off the ship on Nevarro to return a bounty to Greef Karga. He glanced over at you while you held onto the baby and he smiled underneath his helmet at the way you made sure to cover the baby’s eyes to keep the sun from irritating the fifty year old toddler. You turned your head and looked up at Din with a smile, “Look, I made him a little hat kinda.” You giggled.

And sure enough, you did. You’d used one of your scarves to wrap around his little head and he looked like he was comfortably swaddled. He probably was. He adored you, there was no doubt about that. And there was also no doubt that he saw you as a mother. Din smiled underneath his helmet and he looked down at the two of you before taking a breath, “Every little guy needs a mother to make him a hat when it’s hot out.” He said pointedly and made a point to look at you intensely.

If you noticed, you didn’t really say anything, and you giggled, “I guess so. It’s kinda hard with these ears, though.” You said and reached down to brush your thumb across one of his long ears, and he cooed, trying to reach up and grab at your fingers.

The second hint Din decided to drop was a little more obvious, and it was while the baby napped down in the hull. You and Din sat in the cockpit, him in his pilot’s chair and you sat happily on his right thigh with your legs draped across his lap while you sat with his left arm in your lap. You sat with a clean cloth as you tried to buff a few scuffs out of his beskar vambrace while he watched your face admiringly.

“Y/n.” He said your name more as a statement than a question, and you turned your head up towards him.

“Huh?” You asked lamely and he couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Have you ever thought about marriage?” He asked quietly and traced one of his gloved fingers along the side of your leg as it rested over the tops of his.

You thought for a moment and then you gave him a nod, “Yeah, I’ve thought about it. Have you?” You asked and looked up to where you imagined his eyes would be.

It was Din’s turn to nod at you this time and you smiled a bit, contently turning back to buffing out his armor until it gleamed. He assumed that was the last of the conversation and he fell silent as he watched your delicate hands work to shine up his armor.

Later that night after you had fallen asleep in his lap up in the cockpit, he carried you down to the bunk that you often shared with him and he laid you down before shedding his armor and his helmet. He crawled in right next to you and he wrapped both of his arms around your waist, tugging you back against him. You stirred a bit as the motion of being moved back and you placed both of your hands down against his wrists. You didn’t turn your head around because you felt his chin on your head and you sighed out contently.

“Are you awake?” Din asked, quietly enough so that if you weren’t, you didn’t wake, but loud enough that if you were awake, you’d hear. You nodded very gently and you felt his arms tighten around you as he tugged you backwards until you were flush against his chest, “you shouldn’t be. Go back to sleep, it’s so late, y/n.” He scolded gently and placed a gentle kiss on the top of your head.

“Well then why did you ask me if I was awake?” You giggled and shook your head, sighing out contently at the feeling of the gentle kiss he left on top of your head.

He didn’t answer but he let out a sigh as well and you brushed your thumbs over his wrists and turned your head back to place a small kiss on his chin, his facial hair tickling your chin and lips, “Getting a little furry, Mister bounty hunter, perhaps you should shave tomorrow night.” You teased and he only laughed in reply and buried his face in your neck, placing a few kisses against the skin just below your jawline.

You giggled while the scruff on his face tickled your neck and you rolled over so that you were facing him, “I love you, you know.” You said happily and tapped around his face in the dark to find his lips before you leaned in and pressed a little kiss upon them. He pulled back and let out a quiet breath before he reached for your hand and held it tightly in his own.

“Of course I know. And I love you. I love you very much, in fact. I want you in my life forever, I daresay.” He whispered and you felt the slight tremble in his hand.

He was nervous. He knew it was now or never, because you weren’t taking any hints and he was gonna chicken out any other time. What others would’ve described as butterflies in their stomach, he would describe as a million kicking children. His heart beat heavily and quickly in his chest and he felt the words tumblr from his lips before he could even think them through:

“I want you to marry me. I want to marry you. Will you marry me?” He blurted and it felt like time stopped. The bunk around you two seemed hotter and he felt almost dizzy with excitement and terrible, sickening anticipation, while you, on the other hand, were screaming inside of your head. Truly, you wanted nothing more but to marry Din Djarin. You knew in your soul that he was the one person you would love until time ran out and the infinite universe swallowed up the galaxy, sniffling it out like a small flame. It was four words. Fourteen simple letters. But he was petrified.

The silence scared him and he almost recanted his words, ready to gloss them over with assurance that he was only teasing before your arms slung around his neck and your lips were upon his.

“Yes, yes, I’ll marry you. Of course I’ll marry you.” You breathed against his mouth and pulled him down for a deeper kiss.

He had to pull away, breathlessly, so that he could smile and catch his breath. His heart was still racing like a herd of running orbaks, and he nodded, “I love you. I cannot wait to call you my wife. To raise the kid with you. To show you my face.” He breathed, and you were over the moon, arms still tightly wrapped around his neck.

As you laid there in silence together, your lips repeatedly finding each other’s, he had one thought cross his mind:

y/n Djarin.

Yeah. He liked that.

#din djarin x reader #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian #din djarin #baby yoda #mando x reader #the mandalorian imagine #din djarin imagine #mando imagine #mando x y/n #din djarin x y/n #the mandalorian x you #fanfiction #star wars #the mandalorian fic #din djarin fic

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ratchedspeach · 4 years ago

Note

Prompt

Alice (Mrs America) ends up in part of the student section at the ERA event and reader is one of the students. The reader helps her back to her room safely, reader comes to check on her the next day and Alice invites her out for dinner.

I'll let you have fun with it from there.

Love your work!

I’ve never written a /reader fic before. I hope I lived up to the challenge! I changed the dinner bit just slightly. Hope that’s alright! This is an AU based of Episode 8

You first notice her standing in one of the far corners of the room, fingers tracing the diamond shaped patter of the wallpaper with her lips drawn into a soft “o”. Clad in a soft lavender dress, her loose curls spill over her shoulders and mingle with the sheen of sweat slicked against her forehead. She backs away when she sees you approach, cramming into the corner like she thinks she might be able to pass through the other side. Her pupils are the size of saucers, and you smile, knowing the signs of an LSD trip all too well from personal experience. She tells you her name is Alice with tight smile. When you give her yours, she repeats it like she can taste the sylabols as they roll off her tongue.

“You’re a little lost, aren’t ya?” She bobs her head in agreement, giggling like a child whose had too much sugar. Her tongue darts across her upper lip, and she studies you. “C’mon,” you take her by the forearm, “let’s get you to your room.”

“How long have you been with them?” Alice asks you with a slight rasp in her voice. She’s surprisingly lucid for someone whose tripping. “You know ... the lesbians.” She whispers the last words like she’s protecting you from the empty hotel lobby her nose crinkling.

You choke on a laugh, and her brown eyes go wide. “No, no, it’s alright!” You assure her before she can recant. In truth, you’re touched by the innocence of her prodding. “I came out my first year of college. I’m a senior at Oberlin. The ERA gave me a family when my own decided they didn’t want me anymore.” Alice stops mid stride and looks at you in earnest, tears prickling the corners of her vision. High people are so sensitive. “In hindsight, it’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” You wipe away a single tear that’s escaped with your thumb before taking her by the hand and pulling her forward.

Maybe it’s the way she watches the world through new eyes, like she’s seeing it for the first time, or maybe it’s how cool the skin of her fingertips fees against yours; the sheer knowledge that she’s nearby sends your stomach twisting into knots. Guilt knocks against your throat as you pull her through the hotel. She’s not like me. She’s just lost ... in more ways than one.

Alice stops around the corner from where she says her room is, taking you by the shoulders and planting a kiss swiftly on your cheek. “Thank you.” She breaths it like it’s a secret, eyes glinting. You stammer around your words as she strokes the cotton of your sweater with her thumb. She begins to study the material, a gasp hitching in her throat. “It’s moving!” She marvels, licking her lips before she turns her gaze to you. “Your sweater is magic. How’d you make it do that?”

You snort in spite of yourself, placing a hand over hers. “Christ, you’re high. Do you even know that you’re high?”

Alice bites the inside of her cheek as she ponders it. “I think so.” She decides. “I hung up on my mother earlier.” A soft giggle lilts in her voice.

“Have dinner with me?” The words spill over your lips before you can stop yourself. Shit. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean - I don’t want to assume that you ... I just-“

Alice puts a finger to your lips, brow furrowing. “Ok.” She says it so plainly, like it’s obvious.

“I ... oh, ok. Alright, yes. Um, tomorrow? 8 o’clock? I can meet you right here, if you’d like.”

The older woman nods, squeezing your shoulder gently, before she saunters off in the direction of her room.

“You’re a reject!

Alice’s head throbs - it has all day. Her memory of the night before is muddled at best. She remembers speaking to people, but can’t make out faces. She remembers being hungry, so very hungry, and there’s the faintest recall of kissing someone. She chalks it all up to alcohol.

She’s lying to herself, and she knows it.

Alice spends most of the day in bed nursing a bad hangover and ignoring the sinking sense of guilt that she owes Pamela an apology. She pops two Advil and swallows them dry as pressure builds behind her retinas.

She’s supposed to see Phyllis today - she’s supposed to stand in solidarity with her STOP ERA “sisters”. She’s supposed to do something else, too, but she can’t quite recall what it is. Alice goes to the window of her hotel room, squinting as she opens the blinds in preparation for the sun. When light doesn’t hit her face, she checks her watch.

7:30 pm.

The number looms like death sentence, and Alice’s eyes go wide. “That ... that girl!” She says it like she’s expecting her to appear in front of her. Shuffling towards her suitcase, Alice tears through dresses and skirts. I must look awful. She cringes at the thought of looking in a mirror as she shimmies in a flannel dress - deep blue, and soft to the touch.

Her suspicions are confirmed when she finally chances a look at herself in the mirror. Mascara still creases the bags under her eyes, and her hair is matted with sleep. “I don’t have time.” Alice runs her fingers through her waves, tucking a few lose strands behind her ears, washes her face with soap at water without waiting for the sink stream to warm up.

“A reject. You’re a reject!”

Alice shakes her head, glancing at herself once more in the mirror before accepting that this is as good as it will get.

You get there early, waiting in the bend of the hotel hallway as you fidget with the buckle on your cross-body satchel. You know there’s a chance that this will all be some cruel cosmic joke, that Alice won’t know what it is she was agreeing to, that she might not even remember -

“Hello.” Her voice pulls your gaze upwards. She’s smiling at you with only the faintest recollection twisting in her eyes. Your stomach churns. She doesn’t remember.

“Alice, hi. I-I’m -“

“Oh good.” She breaths, cutting you off befor you can stumble over your own tongue any longer. “It is you. I thought I thought maybe I was wrong. I was ... pretty drunk last night.”

You quirk an eyebrow. “Oh, is that all?” Blood rushes to her cheeks.

“Yes, well, I suppose you’d know better, wouldn’t you?” She picks at her nailbed, smiling sheepishly. Please don’t hate me for it. “I’m sorry if I was any trouble.”

“Oh, no! No you were ... you were just fine.” You clear your throat and will your knees to stop shaking. “Are you hungry?” Alice nods. “I know a place around the corner from here. It’s nothing fancy, but I figured if you were interested, we could -“

“I’d like that.” I would? I would. Alice catches herself off guard with her self assurance.

She’s soft spoken, but there’s a fortitude to her words that makes your throat close. You swallow the lump in your throat and offer her your hand. She studied it for a moment like she’s not sure it’s really there, before taking it in her own, and following you down the hall.

Alice looks like a fish out of water. You release her hand when you see the way she pales in the hotel lobby. Be patient with her. You remind yourself as you open the lobby door and usher her through it. True to your word, the restaurant is around the corner - a quaint little Italian spot that you’d spent the last few nights at with college friends.

“I told you it’s not much.” You apologize before you’ve even walked inside.

Alice’s eyes are fixed on the red awning. “I think it’s nice.” She tucks a few pieces of hair behind her ears and smiles up at the gold letters reading Preggo in practically illegible calligraphy. “I always wanted to study Italian.” Alice admits when you’ve been seated at a table in the far corner of the trattoria.

“Oh? Why didn’t you?”

Alice’s brow furrows. “Well, I ... I never went to college.” She picks at a piece of bread, holing it out in the center without ever actually eating any of it. “I got married at 19, and from there ... well ... Buck I wanted to have a family. There wasn’t much time with babies in the house.”

Your stomach drops through the soles of your shoes. “You’re married?”

Brown eyes flick towards you, wide with something akin to fear. “I suppose I should have told you.”

You shake your head. “I’ve dated married women before, Alice. There’s more of you than you think.”

“More of ... me?”

You lean back in your chair, taking a sip of ice water to steady yourself. “You know ... women who ... who are curious about what it’s like to be with other ... you know.” Alice’s lips pull into a thin line. You’re scaring her. Alice stills, Christ, she barely even blinks, and you think that this is it; this is the end of this doomed date. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have presumed that you were-“

“You’re right.” There it is again, that blunt naievity that you’ve only ever seen in children before. “I ... I suppose I hadn’t given it much thought before now, but why else would I have said yes?”

You smile, giving her the benefit of the doubt. “I mean, you were positively rolling.” You wink, and Alice blushes, biting the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. She’s so beautiful.

“Fair point.” She concedes as the waiter comes to take your order.

PART 2 HERE

#alice macray #mrs. america #nat writes #I might continue this actually!#I left it on a bit of a cliffhanger

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madmadmilk · 5 years ago

Text

One After The One PART 1 | Tom Holland x Reader

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Summary: What does one in a million even mean? Does it mean you’re the first of many or the fucking last? Does it mean that you’re somewhere in the middle? And what happens to the poor baby who ends up being the 999,999th one? Or worse, the one after The One? There ought to be some kind of prize for second to last, and second runner up. Especially when being #2 is your specific talent.

Warnings: Cursing, Suspicion, some Hard to Swallow Pills, and a million blurry pics

Word Count: 6.7K swipes left

Special Shoutout: Thank you @hypnotized-so-mesmerized for being a BETA for this chapter and for you lovely input!

“I can’t fucking believe you’ve got me fifth wheeling for this….” you sigh, as you blow strands of your hair away from your face. You walk briskly atop of the shifting sand behind your leggy friend.

All 5 foot 10 inches of her shakes with laughter as she watches you trip over yourself. She shrugs, “The more the merrier?”

You roll your eyes, resigning to a smile as she waves back for your hand to hold. You reach out and accept her offer loosely, allowing yourself to be pulled along.

“Come on, the boys are waiting.”

Right.

You watch the festival lights cast a warm glow at the edges of her silhouette. She smiles at you, bronzed, beautiful–– taken.

Over the past year, all your best friends started fucking dating each other.

Leaving you single, alone, and second best.

It wasn’t weird, it wasn’t unnatural–– but it quite literally happened over night. “This” is just your “new normal.”

You all still hung out, together, mismatched or separately. Nothing has stopped them from asking you to hang out, but there are times where you feel… The Line.

It was Common Sense tingling and telling you that certain occasions were more of a “date-night” rather than friendly get together. And the last thing you wanted to be was a cockblock to your own goddamn friends.

Like tonight, you were tagging along to the late-night-end-of-the-summer beach bar hop bash, with your two pairs of your closest friends. Sam and Ry, short for Ryan. And Liza and K, short for Erik.

Then there’s you, of course.

The three boys were waiting with drinks in hand, while you and Liza took your sweet time climbing the sandy stairs. This was the usual ritual, but you stood alone when you reached the guys. They paired off, easily, naturally, sweetly.

The vibrating radio-centric music drowned out the sounds of the lapping ocean, the conversation you walked into was near unintelligible, and the crowd was excited about something.

God, I wish that were me.

There wasn’t anything wrong with going to this year’s beach bash, as you go to it as a group every year–– it’s just that this time they were holding hands and you were holding a drink. It’s more sour than you’d like.

You were fine coming out “alone,” but who wants to be alone?

You greet one another with warm hugs and Liza immediately dives into a rant about officially moving in with K, and about how he doesn’t wanna mix his laundry with hers–– all those new domestic nuances.

Sam rolls his eyes and exclaims, “Ry is the same fucking way–– like, it’s just cloth, babe.”

“Easy for you to say when all you wear is black––“ Ry retorts, pushing his boyfriend’s shoulder.

Everyone starts with a snickering laugh, clinking beer bottles and recanting similar experiences.

Tonight you just don’t feel like it.

Living alone and sleeping alone is one of your specific talents. It’s been nice to have your own fucking bed, your own fucking room, your own fucking space–– all of it to just BE your own fucking self, by your fucking self. You’ve been this way for twenty-odd years now (kind of, you know what i mean). Love and friends are welcome to hang out, but at the end of the day, the place is all yours. And yours alone. That’s what home means to you.

“–– But living together hasn’t been as bad as I thought it would be,” Liza smacks her lips, looking down in short embarrassment. She leans back against K, “There are good things too.”

Sam is quick to point out their PDA, and you take another sip of your drink. You would have spoken up to contribute about your own experiences, once upon a time. But that’s a sore topic you’re not willing to relive on this breezy night.

Instead, you laugh along, crossing your arms while propping your elbow on the bar. You’ll let tonight be as rosy as it can be with no time to dwell. Your drink is near empty, consumed faster than you remember. Someone taps your shoulder.

“Hey.”

You blink dryly, resurfacing. “Hm?”

K is rubbing the side of your arm, those hazel eyes darkened in the low light. His dark brows were raised high, “You good?”

“Yeah, yeah. Of course,” you answer easily. You hold up your drink, making a smug face and down it to his bemusement. You shake the empty bottle, setting it back on the table. “Always good.”

He nods slowly, looking over at the other three still gossiping amongst themselves. You couldn’t hear their conversation, but you can only imagining Sam and Liza were poking at each other by the way that Ry was smiling.

K swings his head back to you, “Wanna dance?”

“Sure.”

And you follow him, aware that, no, he didn’t want to dance. He wanted to talk.

You walk away with him, unnoticed by the others and tracing your finger across a brick wall. He stops, leaning against it and you do too. Looking over him, neat clothes and nervous face, you raise a brow.

“Sorry––“ he starts slowly, scratching the back of his neck.

“For what?” You laugh, scrunching your brows as you nod your head to the muffled music.

“This. It’s weird, right? Us. All of us, dating. That last year we were the ones single and you were––“ he sighs, pulling his lip to the side, “Last year was totally different. And now we’re all here, still together. Together-together.”

“Mhm, it was going to happen sooner or later,” you muse. K has loved Liza since Day One. And you and him have both known it, and what it means to him now. His dreams become reality every second that passes.

“Shut up,” he swats at your arm. You see the curl of his smile behind the embarrassment, “Nah. No. But this must be awkward for you, huh?”

You shrug. “Little bit. I’ll get over it, you guys are still my friends.”

His eyes search yours for the real truth. They were all so worried that them coupling up would ruin something, between themselves and with you. Ha. You told they they were stupid for thinking that. You believe in seizing the opportunities, in taking leaps and following your partner around the world–– in theory, at least.

They confided in you individually and you told them all the same thing. Tailored to their personalities, but in the same conceptual vein.

“If it works, it works. If it doesn’t, then at least you tried and you don't have to spend another day wondering ‘what if..?’”

And they bought it. Now, that being said, you already knew that they all fucking liked each other so–– push her and push him and push him and him, and things will fall into place.

It’s just that… the new thing is that you’re the one out out of the loop. You used to be the first to know but now you’re last to find out. And that is strange.

You’re not their number 1 anymore. And there’s nothing you can say about it.

“You’re still my best friend, got it?” K leans his shoulder on yours and you rest yourself against him too.

“Yeah, yeah, I know.”

Today, but not tomorrow.

It’s hard not to be bitter, and it’s horrible that there’s no remedy for it. FOMO is a new-age disease, after all. No science to sort it out yet, no justification to satiate it.

“So…. You talkin’ to anyone? Looking?” He asks too casually for a question he knew you hated. He bumps elbows with you and shake along with it.

“Nope,” your mouth pops at the “p.”

He raises his brows again, and argh you hate that. There was always someone you were talking to, or someone you’ve been with. But not these days. These days you felt too tired to be someone’s ideal anything.

“There are some cute guys around, looking at you,” his eyes twinkle a little too brightly for a straight guy with horrible taste. (Facts backed up by Sam, Ry, Liza, AND personal experience) “Plenty of fish, yeah?”

You shake your head, not interested. Sex could come and go, infatuation could come and go–– but you’re kinda tired of the short stuff. But not exactly ready for a whole-ass relationship either. You don’t need to explain yourself–– you just know you wouldn’t last the night.

“Not in the mood,” you huff.

“Tonight,” he says suggestively, wiggling his shoulders.

You both laugh, you a little bit dryly. You try to direct his attention back to Liza and their budding romance, as the trio finds you guys again. At first they didn’t immediately stand coupled, Ry handing you a drink and Sam going to talk to K. Liza smoothed out her clothes and you all talked about some new plans. It was an honest good time. Ry spilled his drink on Sam, and complained about the laundry again–– Liza got waaaay too drunk and you and K were holding her in your arms while she staggered like Bambi.

It was nice and warm, and a lot like old times.

I missed that.

You felt yourself smile and let loose–– not thinking of old ex’s or new flings. Just about the friends before you and how safe they made you feel, and how happy you are to see them happy. That’s love, right?

“Oh my god, look!” someone exclaimed, pointing a finger at the sky. You hear a loud clap.

As the night faded and grew colder, fireworks erupted into the sky with a loud crackle. You guys squealed and ran to the top of a sand dune, tripping and tumbling to see the dying summer sights. The fizzing calmed your calls. It’s funny how loud fiery skies filled you with the same awe every time. How it quieted you and made you feel small.

The couples soon held each other, soft embraces with their necks craned upwards. Their eyes twinkled from bursts of lights, smiling at the sharp crackles of sound.

Tonight was the one of many nights they would be able to spend in each other’s arms, so far away and close to you all at once.

This was the line you were cautious about–– you couldn’t talk to them when they were like this, out of courtesy. Out of honoring their moment.

You stood back, watching their excited faces instead of the bursting sky. You felt it. Not jealousy or bitterness, but the awful choke of curiousity and selfishness. The “what if that were me?”

It’s been a while since you’ve had arms wrap over your shoulders and kissed your hair. Enough time has passed for you to forget what that felt like. Too long? What was that like again?

The finale of fireworks struck across the inky, dark sky. You inhaled the smell of chalky smoke, tasting the salt in the air. Lights and colors fill your eyes, unblinking.

You suck in your cheeks as it quiets and you can hear the ocean again.

And you let yourself think, I want that again.

So with a new pulse, you went home and did the only logical thing in finding the next Love of Your Life.

You downloaded Tinder.

You avoided “serious” dating and being a “serious” anything to anyone, but seeing that “seriousness” in your friends made you wonder if you could be anything like them. If you were ready to open your heart to the possibility of loving and being loved.

Seriously. Sincerely. No bullshit.

This time.

At least, that’s what you told yourself as you messed around setting up a profile on Tinder. Regretfully spending way too long shuffling through old selfies that were engaging and enticing. You sigh as you pick through the lot, frustrated at the mind games that have already started.

It’s tiring.

And that’s probably why you end up cracking a few days later and end up telling Sam and Ryan. It was a short two word text, “Tinder. Help?” And you got a speedy reply from both of them (even when you knew they were most likely sat right next to each other). They were at your place in less than an hour.

Sam applauds your efforts, but is only there for moral support more or less. He’s an ace at the dating game, but has no patience to explain his ways.

“Typical,” You and Ry hum, as Sam rifles through your pantry instead.

Ryan, quiet as he is, sat with you and looked through the photos you choose. He broke down the psychology of it all; about the aloofness and whatever–– which you understood. You need to try hard, but not look like you are. Effortlessness, funny, chic, digestible, likeable––

“Performative.” He says flatly, “But this is fast and simple.”

And you have to agree, looking at your phone in his hands.

You blink as you reflect.

This is so much easier in fiction, in those movies where people go on a million dates in one week and match with the hottest fucking dudes ever. Where the protagonist has the perfect amount of self-confidence to keep her moving forward, endless chances to mess up and and still get the guy… God, it’s so easy on paper. There’s no dignity to lose. But here? In the “real” world, even on an app you could delete at anytime–– to put yourself out there? Mortifying.

But, at least you’re bored enough to try.

So, what the fuck, right?

“Did you tell Liza and K yet?”

“No, they would definitely try to set me up with someone real,” you laugh, leaning back on the couch. You wriggle your toes and tilt your head away.

Ry leans back with you with a brow raised, “Isn’t that… the point?”

Yeah, like, true. They have lots of friends they’re always trying to peddle your way, which is cool and all but… it’s a lot harder to pick and choose and ghost someone when you have mutual contacts.

He read the look on your face and nodded slowly, “Got it, got it.” He laughed to himself, perceptive and cautious. He extends his thoughts, “But you gotta tell us if you actually go and meet anyone. K would kill us if you didn’t say anything.”

“I won’t get into any trouble,” you squint, looking away from him mischievously.

“Uh-huh,” Ry affirms plainly as he swipes right on a few cute boys.

Your experience with dating apps was limited–– you made a joke account a while ago and never really did much with it. Then you had a more “real” account that you never tried sincerely with. You had real people you dated at the time–– uhm. But now, now that you’re actually on here looking… it is bleak.

It’s a Saturday night and you’re winding down with a glass of wine swiping through your options. People you actually knew showed up, and you swiped that shit away so fast you almost chucked your phone with it. You flipped through people who looked fake for real, some older dudes, and plenty of people with vibes you didn’t like–– the pool is so wide you almost didn’t know where to start. And you could afford to be picky, sure. It’s just, who knew that “too many options” would actually be a problem.

You spend the next few days idling checking and chatting, not getting any viable catches. You felt like you were just peering into small windows, head in and head out. Nothing caught your attention long enough for you to want to look in further.

You even start poking at things you never wanted to acknowledge as real, like the impact of cheesy bios, and deciphering who was who in group pics, and the thrilling amount of dudes holding up fish.

Pretty wack.

You felt yourself grow tired of it again. The adrenaline was waning, burnt to the stump. Good thing you didn’t try too hard. Pfft.

You sleepily swipe away on your phone, too late into the night. You blink hard as you snuggle into your covers, muttering,

“Just one more.”

Ah.

>> check out the whole bio here <<

“T, 23. Friendly, neighborhood romantic,” you whisper to yourself. You crack a small smile.

After countless swipes left, and (1) accidental swipe right, you match with a blurry boy–– super sus, I know. You don’t know how it happened tbh–– there’s nothing to “look” at, but your eyes fell on this one. Maybe because you just watched “Far From Home,” and enjoyed this spidey reference. Or you’re just innately drawn to the word “romantic.” Could be either, easily.

“It’s a match!”

Shit. You mumble, your profile photos floating together. You take a second to look through his meager collection. They were all obscure and blurry and not exactly in the artsy way.

You couldn’t decipher much, only that he had fair skin (?), with dark hair and dark eyes, but even that was questionable.

You’re pretty sure you matched with a bot or some old dude, or worse, a kid. You can hardly see his face in the pictures, blurry or cropped or covered.

Okay...

Is that his real name? Probably not. Is he actually 23? Doubt it. Is this going to go anywhere? Let’s hope not.

But whatever, it’s the first “match” that has seemed interesting in the past few days, solely on your pickiness. And this random bastards only gets you out of dumb luck.

You rub your eyes, and set down your phone, resigning to your stupidity.

You’ll deal with it in the morning.

Good night.

And the gears were set in motion as you slept.

You had a new message on tinder waiting for you, but you didn’t check the app until much later. You go through your Sunday morning routine, only opening your phone after a light breakfast and stretch.

“Oh god,” you blink as you catch the red notification. You look around the room, preparing yourself for what could be anything. You take a deep breath and open the chat.

T: Hey

Oh. You stare at it, so bare with no personality to pick at. You wonder if you should even reply, but by the grips of boredom, you do.

You: Hey!

You set your phone down, trying to swallow the short thrill. You walk away for a moment. A reply comes within minutes.

And it’s a goddamn mess.

T: Sorry, i’ve never done this before.

Strike one. You suck in your cheeks. While you’re fairly new at this too, you… don’t know how much time you want to invest it in. Here again, you debate replying back–– but he beats you to it.

T: I’m trying to get over my ex

UHM? Strike two, you almost have to laugh. This is just testing your patience. Your jaw wriggles as you see he has more to say…

T: And you look a lot like her.

Damn. Strike three, he’s out. He’s got to know that would put anyone off, right? Why would you even admit that straight out? T? Come on, man.

You: i’m not sure if that’s a compliment or an insult.

T: it’s an apology now, i didn’t know what to say

You: you could have complimented my killer smile or the pic of me with a dog. Anything but that

T: Right, right. I’m such a dickhead. Sorry, it’s nice to meet you though.

You hold your phone away, debating whether or not you should just delete the entire goddamn thing because this was just too stupid–– but it’s Sunday morning and what do you have left to lose.

You chew on the side of your lip, deciding to entertain “T,” but don’t spare him any soft words. You’d rather get straight to the point.

You: So… you go by “T?” And don’t have any real pics of your face? Are you even real???

T: Yeah, just private

You: kinda defeats the purpose of putting yourself out there though, right? Lol

T: It’s too easy if i put my face out there

You: oh, ha ha ha. So you’re saying you’re too hot to show your face? Love the confidence dude

And this is where you start actually laughing out loud. You wipe away tears at the side of your eyes, cackling at this display of internet confidence. It’s a tiny piece of amusement from a stranger you have 0 feelings for, and you’re not going to be mean to him… but you’ll definitely poke fun to see how far you can get.

Besides, he’s still replying back right? That’s almost hilarious in itself.

T: Hey, confidence is sexy, right?

You: yeah, more in person than online! 😂 (Laughing emoji)

You take a second to scroll back through his photos, and check to see if he has a link to instagram, twitter, anything. But he doesn’t. You try to pull up any evidence you can–– and at the very least, these blurry pics all look like they’re taken of the same person.

Slight build with dark curled hair–– rippable from any ambiguous online “hot boy” mood board though.

You’re wary.

You spot a picture with his smile, crinkled eye and lifted lip. You could swear he looked familiar… but maybe that’s because you’ve seen that same white boy/model on Pinterest.

Maybe.

T: wanna meet up and see for yourself?

You: maybe if you show me your face first

T: can’t do that quite yet, but I’d love to keep talking to you

You furrow your brows as you read his words. He would be down to meeting up with you upfront, but hesitates to send you a picture beforehand? That’s definitely a red flag, right? Right?

(Yes. Yes it is.)

You pull yourself back and let out a deep sigh. You’re probably the only person he’s talking to, especially with those purposeful (?) blurry pics and cryptic everything. Ugh.

It’s not playing yourself if you know it’s fake right? You can step out of this at anytime.

You: as long as you can hold my attention :)

T: I’ll try my very best ✌🏼 (peace sign emoji)

–– and with some very, very loose banter…. you end up exchanging numbers. You’ve put the whole Tinder thing on pause for now–– all four days of it. All for one stranger with no tact.

Unknown Number: hey, this is t (smiley face)

You: pfffft, I’m going to call you Blurry Boy. Since your name obviously isn’t T

BB: that’s fine with me :) mind if i call you darling?

You: ew

BB: o come on. It’s cute

You: please tell me you’re actually 23 or i swear to god I’m going to fucking lose it

BB: I swear 🤞🏼 (fingers crossed emoji)

You: ok. Prove it. Send me a pic of you–– you face or whatever

Ok. That’s a leap. He could rip a picture from anywhere but let’s see how fast he could do it. If it takes too long, then he probably did just rip it from the internet.

And if he makes a mistake and actually sends you a clear pic of himself? Well, that could only be seen as a win.

BB:

But you are ruthless.

You: ok. Send me another one.

And he could stop if he wanted to.

Only, he doesn’t. In a short moment, he sends another picture.

BB:

Same room, same face, same glasses. I guess you could believe him… for now. No matter how shitty the photos have end up....

But he could also be one of those people with folders full of stock photos… you never know.

But putting paranoia aside, you decide to turn off the heat a lil. You grab your coffee and sit on your couch, sliding into a comfy position. You turn on some YouTube videos on your laptop, watching the first few seconds as you lean your cheek against the couch cushions.

Phew.

You: thanks…. sorry I’m so paranoid. But you truly have the worst pictures of yourself put up there. Potato quality.

BB: nah, i know. I get it. Haha it’s alright, a pretty girl like you needs to protect herself

You: oh BOY that doesn’t make me feel any better 😂(laughing emoji)

BB: fuck, sorry. Ugh that is fuckin creepy. Shit. I’m terrible at texting

You: no, no. It’s alright. Actually, great job with taking those photos so fast. Most people would have taken sooooo much longer. You get a few points for not holding back

BB: babe, i told you. I’m gorgeous. I don’t gotta worry about it 😂😂💕 (laughing emojis)

You: right, right blurry boy. Great job with all those fuzzy ass photos. 🙄 (Eye roll emoji) haha are you really looking for someone out here or…?

BB: sort of. I’m testing out the waters and… you’re really pretty

You have to blink back and roll your eye, you’re unable to digest this conversation as real. They’re flowery words given to you, for sure, but your suspicion is much stronger. Your guard will not let down or be appeased by some blurry ass dude calling you “pretty.”

He replies before you have the chance.

BB: i dont wanna get into the messy details but yeah. Company sounds great right about now

You: yeah, i feel that

It’s a real and valid reply, but it’s a terrible one. It’s so hard for someone to reply back to that–– but you’re testing his perseverance. If he finds something to say back, it might just prove one more thing to you. That he might actually be interested, and someone worth talking to.

BB: sorry i lead with my baggage, I’m a fucking mess

You: *a confident fucking mess

BB: thank you 😇 (angel emoji)

You: don’t worry about it, I’ve seen worse

You laugh darkly to yourself. I’ve been worse.

BB: hahahaha thanks. Ok. But all that aside… real talk now. Can I ask you about the dog in your photo now?

You hate to admit that your lips curled into a smile, as you hastily type back.

Your coffee was half drank and cold by now. The YouTube video you were supposed to be watching has moved onto part two.

You eyes are still scanning your text screen, waiting to see those three bouncing dots at the bottom left hand corner.

He’s not the worst–– and at most, even if this turns out to be fake, this is just your Sunday morning entertainment. Nothing more and nothing less. These are just insignificant texts that will probably lead to a few lost days, or mediocre sex at best.

So, whatever, right?

MONDAY MORNING

BB: good morning! ☀️ (sun emoji)

You: well you sure get up early. Good morning

BB: Haha, I like to start the week as soon as i can. Do you drink coffee or tea in the morning?

You: coffee most days. You?

BB: i drink tea, darling

You: yeah that’s probably better for you haha. Less expensive too.

BB: mhm, definitely cheaper if you come over and i make you a cup

You: wow, the flirting starts the second the sun is up, huh?

BB: what, still too early?

You: never too early

BB: do you brew the coffee yourself?

You: some mornings. I usually pop into XX Cafe midday if i can.

BB: catch you there? 😂 (laughing emoji) nah, i’ll have to check the place out. I don’t know this area too well.

You: i guess if you can find me! I’m usually in and out pretty fast. Got places to be you know? Hm, did you just move here?

BB: yeah, i got settled in about a week ago

You: staying long?

BB: long enough

You: oh ha ha. Seriously not suspicious at all

BB: yeah I’m in town for a month or two. I’m getting away from work and stress for a minute

You: and you chose here?

BB: quiet enough for me. 😌 (smiley face) and you’re here so that’s a plus

You: relentless

BB: and nothing less.

MONDAY EVENING

BB: you haven’t seen that series? You’re crazy

You: whaaat! It’s not my thing. AND i don’t have time for it

BB: it’s a masterpiece, come on! Who doesn’t like laughing? It’s funny! You’ll like it

You: you’re gonna owe me a drink if don’t like it

BB: I’ll gladly buy you one right now if that’s what it takes to get you to watch it

You: ugh, i guess if you recommend it i can tryyyy…

BB: you won’t regret it!

You: ugh you are so annoying. What are you up to right now?

BB: reading emails and talking to you

You: haha what’s so important that you’re reading an email at like 11. Gotta turn on that “do not disturb” dude

BB: I can’t mute the work stuff, unfortunately

You: so if i called you over tonight you wouldn’t be able to? “Because of work?”

BB: you serious? I’m only taking serious offers right now

You: No! It’s monday. Can’t indulge you that early in the week

BB: what a shame. I’d drop it in a heartbeat for you

You: Nice to know

BB: I’ve got a feeling that I shouldn’t have told you that (laughing emoji)

You: 😈 (devil emoji)

TUESDAY MORNING

BB: good morning!

You: hey! I remembered I had some tea back at my apartment so… just wanted to let you know you had an impact on my day 🙄😊 (eye roll emoji and smiley face emoji)

BB: I could still make a better cup for you 😘 (kissy face emoji)

You: right. What do you have planned today?

BB: hmm, I’m heading out to the gym. Then I might explore the city a bit. Bump into me?

You: well, I don’t know if I could recognize you even if i wanted to

BB: you’ll recognize me

You: haha, okay? Wait, do I know you? –– if this is a prank…

BB: it’s not!

You: .. that wouldn’t be cool.

BB: it’s not a prank! There’s just a lot of things I can’t tell you just yet. It’d be a lot easier if we were able to meet up in person.

You: why?

BB: I’m pretty private. It’s really hard for me to just… share certain things with you. But I want to! SO badly! I just can’t send you a whole picture of my face. It’s complicated.

You: Sorry? I don’t get it.

BB: Ahhhh. This is going to sound so bad. I trust you, like as a person. But also I can’t trust you. If you meet me–– you’ll understand why. I’m sorry.

You: Okay…? And you have to understand that this sounds absolutely batshit to me, right? Like it’s pretty hard to trust you like this.

BB: yeah I know. I’m sorry. I don’t blame you if you don’t believe me. But honestly, it’s nice to be able to talk to you like this and I hope we can continue to chat. I really do like you.

You: … That is really unfair.

BB: I know! I’m sorry. Give me another day or two–– i have a few things to figure out but, I SWEAR i’m not lying to you. I promise it’ll make sense soon

You: well, if you promise you’re not a creep….

BB: I’m not!

You: and that you’re not using me as a replacement for your ex

BB: I won’t!

You: you are SO lucky i’m patient

BB: and kind. And beautiful. And amazing.

You: you’re pushing it, blurry boy. I just need you to realize how unfair this is.

BB: I do. And I know. I’m sorry.

You: what are you looking for here? With me or with anyone you would have met from the app?

BB: a home away from home

You: yeah i read that in your bio. What does that mean?

BB: I’m looking for someone I can spend time with and trust with my whole heart

You: ha ha

BB: I’m serious. It’s hard to find.

You: you’re a real romantic, that’s for sure

TUESDAY EVENING

You: you have a DOG and you didn’t tell me?

BB: what, you’re not interested in the fact that I have younger twin brothers and another 8 years younger than me? ‘Always about Tessa

You: obviously! Send a pic!

BB:

You: is this from right now?

BB: nah, something I took ages ago. I had to leave her back home with my family.

You: aww, that’s too bad.

BB: would you come over if she were here?

You: Duh! And I guess you’d have to make me a cup.

BB: sounds lovely. Let’s make it a date

You: ha ha. You miss home?

BB: More than you know. I travel A LOT

You: well, call back often! They would be happy to know you miss them! Loneliness is not a great feeling.

BB: I do, all the time! And definitely not a good feeling. So, it’s really nice to talk to you. Thank you.

You: Sorry, I’m not a very great conversational partner. But still happy to hear that

BB: You are. You’re still here

You: You are too.

BB: You already mean a lot to me

You: Have you been in many relationships? (Or hookups idk)

BB: No, and not really. I’ve only been in a handful of long-term relationships

You: Interesting

BB: What?

You: Just wondering if you are really catching feelings for me

BB: Guilty. You?

You: I don’t think I know enough about you to catch anything. No offense 😬😅(cringe emoji, laughing emoji)

BB: Ha, no. I meant if you’ve been in many relationships?

You: Oh! Sorry. A few of either. Did long-term once. Didn’t work out, obviously–– so here I am. That’s that.

BB: Guess we both have a past to bury

You: Please don’t say anything about “burying yourself into my pussy to feel better”

BB: WHAT. I wasn’t even thinking about that. That’s all you 👀

You: Hey, you’ve been pretty quick all the other times, bud.

BB: If I tell you I want more than just sex, does that make you feel better?

You: It makes me think about the fact that you still want to have sex with me

BB: And I can’t deny that 😊 (smiley blushy face emoji)

WEDNESDAY MORNING:

BB: Good morning!

You: Morning! Little later than usual–– sleeping in?

BB: Yeah, since I can afford to. You replied quicker than usual. Were you waiting for me? 😉 (wink emoji)

You: Haha, you wish. I was already on my phone, stud.

BB: Right, right. I can tell you like to play hard to get

You: No I don’t!

BB: 😂 (laughing emoji)

You: I don’t!

BB: Wow, feels great to finally have something to hold over you

You: I hate you 🙄 (eye roll emoji)

BB: Have a nice day, love 😊🌈(smiley face, rainbow emoji)

PING!

“BB? Who is bb?” Liza asks you on Wednesday evening after seeing a notification pop up on your phone. She grabs it off the sticky cafe table and looks at you with her pretty head tilted.

Oh––

You wiggle your jaw, and raise your brows,

“No one important.”

You take your phone back and open the message discreetly. It’s nothing special, you’re sure, but you have to look.

BB: so have you seen the last episode yet????? Hello??

“I didn’t know you were seeing anyone!” She pleads, putting down the drink in her hands. You were at the mall, idly walking and taking a short break. She looks at you pointedly, eyes darting around your face for any spot of weakness, as she quietly whines, “You didn’t tell us anything about this…”

“It’s because I’m not––” You offer, nodding. You flip your phone upside down as the message lights up again. “–– seeing anyone.”

She gives you a squinted look of total disbelief.

You’ve been messaging “Blurry Boy” nonstop for the past few days. First you talked about nothing, and now you’re asking each other about how your day was going and what you’re doing now, and what you’re doing later.

You always find something. Your phone is constantly by your side, sound on.

And there’s a layer of real time now, now that you’ve gotten to know him and his schedule better.

You learn that he has his own cute dog name Tessa and that his family fosters dogs back home, and that he’s the oldest, with twin brothers and a younger one he’s been trying desperately to relate to. You find out that his favorite color is black and that he’s in deep shit for stealing his best friend’s fav hoodie. All of this makes him feel like someone you know, someone you could call a friend.

He feels like more than just some guy you’ve talked to waaaay too long from Tinder.

And what’s worse, is that he knows certain things about you too. He knows that you don’t like sleeping in the dark and that you’re borderline addicted to iced coffee. That you like rewatching old romcoms and classic spooky movies… That your back hurts from work and that you have a fucking dentist appointment on Thursday.

You know a lot more about each other than less. And that’s kinda really fucking weird.

“You’re always smiling at your phone,” Liza says flatly, picking her drink back up to take a long and loud sip. Major side-eye. “‘Fess up.”

“No, I’m not!” You say through your teeth, trying to not smile. But under her stare you melt and crack under pressure.

You keep telling yourself that you’ll stop replying–– that he’s super sus and this isn’t going anywhere. But… you just keep texting him back.

“It’s nothing, seriously.”

“Let me see,” she pouts. “Pleeeease.” She flaps her hands at you, wriggling her fingers.

“No!”

Even though you know that it’s a losing game with her, you try to put up a fight, turning away and holding your phone tightly. You have onlookers now from the squealing, kicking and creaking chairs.

You give in after a minute.

You hand your phone in defeat as you readjust yourselves. You clear your throat.

“Okay, okay. But this is like, not serious at all, okay.” You rationalize as you show her the pictures you had screenshot and saved from him. “I barely know him.”

Barely! You’ve chanted that in your head over and over. Not enough to know if you want to get to know him, or what to drop him. That’s the purgatory you’ve been living in.

Liza is uncharacteristically quiet as she scrolls up and down the chats and flips through the pictures. Her hair covers whatever expression she’s making.

That makes you nervous, and you start babbling.

“Yeah, I mean. I don’t think he’s real or anything–– It’s just for fun and it’s whatever. I don’t even care.”

Yeah, yeah, yeah.

She freezes on a picture of him. The one where you can see a part of his smile and a crinkled eye. She zooms in and pauses again.

“Babe?” Her voice is cautious and slow. God. You don’t want to hear what she has to say next with this tone of voice…

“Hm?” You attempt to perk up, hiding the fact that you just gulped with nerves. It feels like you’re holding something sour in your mouth.

I don’t like this...

“So, he seems like a super nice guy and all but…” She speaks gingerly and wide eyed.

“But what?” You feel yourself recoil.

As much as you talk a big game… it would still hurt to have this illusion shattered. This self-inflicted fantasy. You don’t want her to keep going.

But you can guess what’s coming next.

...

“I… I think he’s using pictures of Tom Holland.”

…

Wait…...

What?!

A.N: WAH! she’s back!! well, as much as she can be. haha i know i have a million things always running at the same time but... i really will just ride the wave of inspiration as it comes.... that’s all i can do. anyway, hope you like this series! it’s going to be an exploration of starting new relationships in your young adulthood–– and how to handle be “The one” after “The One.” it’ll be a good time.

Thank you guys for reading! Please like, comment and reblog :) You’re all amazing.

Much Love,

Madmadmilk 💫

** i do NOT keep up with a taglist. track #one after the one to keep up with the updates, or check out my masterlist! thanks!

#WAH #i'm laughing at the photos bro lol i might change them but i don't have time right now hahahaha #one after the one #tom holland #tom holland fic #tom holland imagine #tom holland blurb #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland reader #tom holland you #tom holland fics #tom holland fluff #tom holland angst #tom holland imagines #tom holland writing #tom holland story #madmadmilk #OATO

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darling-i-read-it · 4 years ago

Text

Movie Binge

Will Graham x reader

Word Count: 1k

Warnings: nothing I don’t think??

Author’s Note: I’ve loved the lord of the rings films since I was little and I went with my dad to see the hobbit ones as they came out, they’ll always be a special little part of me so this was so fun! Adding Will and the movies, what a good idea! I hope you enjoy this lovely.

Requested: by @sweet-hot-latte, Maya! I found the way for you to write about LOTR! Will Graham watching The Hobbit with his gf. And him having fun seeing her daydreaming about her celebrity crushes (my love for Luke Evans, Lee Pace and Richard Armitage is undying). Sorry for that two requests in one day but I couldn't help it 😅

Summary: the request!

Genre: fluff

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director

(not my gif)

“You haven’t seen Lord Of The Rings?!” You were sitting on the floor of Will’s home, surrounded by dogs. You were still petting them all but you were also very concerned about your boyfriend of nearly a year and the fact you had never, not once, heard of this information. You blamed yourself really. You should have thought about asking him on previous movie nights but when you first got together it was all his work and no play. Now that things were settled and Hannibal was in prison, for better or worse, you were able to watch movies on Fridays with Will thinking someone was going to come kill him.

“They were just never my thing,” he admitted, petting the dog at his side. You shook your head angrily.

“Well then tomorrow, we get up early and we watch all three of the Lord Of The Rings films and then the next day, we do The Hobbit films.” He raised an eyebrow.

“It’s a two day event?”

“Why yes it is. Unless you want to try and do it all in one day which is very pretentious of you.”

“How long are they?”

“Like three hours.” His eyes went wide and you nodded.

“Two days it is.”

The first day went alright, considering the fact that he wasn’t prepared to be as moved as he was. You were quite content with just watching him watch the movies but there were plenty of bathroom and snack breaks along with taking the dogs out.

By the time that The Return Of The King ended Will was pretending not to cry and you were opening crying into his chest. But that however, was just round one. You still had three more movies to go and Will was very ready to make that jump into the next movies as smoothly as possible.

He was used to the world now and you could both enjoy it equally (while him of course getting his first time into account).

And he, always keen to your emotions sometimes even more so than you, noticed very quickly your change in pace when Thorin or Bard or Legolas or Thranduil came on screen. Your face lit up in the same way it did when you saw him (if not a little less for them) and your demeanor changed. You obviously had your favorites.

“You know, this Thranduil guy seems like a real ass,” Will commented, hiding the smile that was threatening to come onto his face. You shoved him.

“He’s been through trauma Will,” you snapped and he couldn’t help but smile.

“I’ve been through trauma too and it doesn't make me an asshole.”

“You don’t live in Middle Earth.”

“That changes like zero of the outcomes of trauma except he’s a lame excuse for a king Y/N.” You shoved him over onto one of the dogs and she managed to wiggle out from underneath him before you leaned into him.

“I will kick you out and you will never know what happens to Bilbo and the company of Thorin Oakenshield,” you threatened.

“That’s another guy, Thorin, they really expect him to be the king when he has like, zero kind experience?” You shoved him some more and shook a finger at him.

“Will Graham do you want to be a single man in this world? It is cruel and unforgiving.” He laughed and was able to get up, snaking his arms around your waist. You let him but not without letting out a sigh of annoyance that he still hadn’t recanted his words.

“Let’s just watch the movie huh?” he asked into your shoulder. You tried to get away from him but both of yours and his legs were entangled in the blanket that was blocking you from the harsh winter weather outside his little home.

“Will you please call Thorin a competent king?” you asked quietly. “And if you even try on insulting Bard I will personally kick you out of your own home.”

“Bard?” “He comes up here soon, you’ll see. I think you’ll like him. It's the same guy from the Beauty and the Beast remake.”

“Gaston?” You nodded.

“Yeah but he’s better in this one I promise. Now say it.” He let out a sigh and nodded.

“Thorin may be a competent king but I have yet to see it.”

“Will.”

“Thorin is a king. He shall be a king,” he teased and you let it slide because you weren’t sure if you were going to get anything more out of him.

“Thank you,” you mumbled, putting your arms back around him as he snuggled into your chest like one of the dogs. You kissed his forehead and played with his curls.

“Oh gosh it’s Gaston.”

“Will-”

#will graham x reader #will graham imagines #hannibal imagines

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littlebitoffanfic · 5 years ago

Text

Be Safe

Fandom: The Hobbit Characters: Bifur, Bofur, Bombur, Bilbo Relationship: Bifur/reader Request: Hiya! I love your writings. By any chance could you write some Bifur (the hobbit) x reader? Honestly I think he doesn’t get enough love. My idea is maybe Bifur has a crush on the reader, who’s in the company, possibly because she listens attentively to him, even though she doesn’t understand kuzdul. (Is that how you spell it?) all the dwarves in the company notice especially Bofur. And can bofur be like a bff of the reader? Thank AN: with this author, everyone lives.

The company had stopped for the night, settling in a large cave on the front of a mountain. It had been a long day, with a rain that soaked you all right through. but the evening was filled with a warm fire and pleasant conversation. Most of your time was spent with Bifur, Bofur and Bombur. Ever since they rolled into the front door and Bilbo’s, you had been close with them. They didn’t intimidate you like the others did. Well, Bifur had at the start, but Bofur had quickly shown you there was nothing to fear even if the dwarf did have an axe lodged in his head. Bofur had taken you under his wing. Your brother, Bilbo, was useless when it came to anything outdoors, so Bofur had acted like a mentor for you both. Which worked out well considering Bilbos fondness for Bofur and his friendship with Bombur – shared over a love for food. Bifur scared Bilbo slightly, but he couldn’t deny that he felt a little safer knowing that Bifur would protect you if needed. He proved it countless times already on the journey. Bombur and Bilbo was cooking dinner for the company, but they spoke of other meals beside the meat in the pot. Bofur was sitting with Nori, smoking a pipe that had not long dried out. Which left you with Bifur. you sat in a comfortable silence as you mended a shirt of his that had been torn. “Hows this?” You ask, holding up your handiwork for him to inspect. He mumbled words in Khuzdul, nodding and smiling as he took the item from your hand, apparently happy with it. Bofur appeared, dumping himself inelegantly at your feet. “When are you going to fix my gloves. I have more holes than fingers.” He held up his hands with the gloves on, wiggling his fingers at you. “You don’t ask nicely.” You shoot back with a raise eyebrow. “Neither does Bifur!” Bofur acted shocked and hurt by your comment. “And how would you understand him even if he had?” “Well, he seems like he asked nicely.” You reason, smiling a Bifur who shot one back, mumbling something under his breathe. “Hey! We’re family.” Bofur points a finger at him, his face pulled into one of mock shock. Apparently, whatever Bifur said, it was an insult. You giggled, pulling the gloves off Bofurs hands before setting to work. Bofur chatted to Bifur, the conversation seeming to flow despite it being in two languages. You watched them speak, wishing that you could fully join in. You wished you could understand what he was saying. He was very animated when he spoke, and you loved it. His eyes danced as he recanted tales in his native tongue, but you just couldn’t understand. You tried a few times to speak Khuzdul, and butchered it every time, much to the amusement of most of the company. In fairness, they tried to help, and you had started to pick up a little here and there. But Bifur spoke as quick as lightning, and your brain just couldn’t keep up with translating him. In truth, you could spent the whole night listening to him speak, even though you didn’t have the foggiest clue what he was saying. When Bilbo asked why you would sit by Bifur every night, you lied and said ti was because you were fascinated with the language. Well, it wasn’t a complete lie. You were fascinated with the dwarf who spoke it.

---------------time skip --------------

Sitting beside Bifur, you felt the dread building in your stomach. This time tomorrow, you might still be fighting. This time tomorrow, you might be dead. There was no joyous meal tonight. There hadn’t been since you got to the mountain. You were all set to work, trying to find this stone. And Thorin never let any of you spend more than a passing moment with any of them. Bofur and Bombur tried their bests. Bombur snuck you extra food, in an attempt to show he was still there for you. And Bofur would smile at you no matter what. Bifur was never far away from you. He was always just around a corner or in the next room from you. You didn’t know that when Bilbo had escaped, he had asked Bifur to keep you safe no matter what. But how safe could Bifur keep you on the battle field? Sitting on a bench in one of the many corridors, you tried to concentrate on mending the small hole in your sleeve. But your hands were shaking too bad. Cursing, you were about to throw down the needed when someone took your hand. Looking up, you saw Bifur. Immediately, you smiled. Despite the tears in your eyes, or your shaking hands, you smiled at him. Bifur returned the smile, but you could see there was worry in his eyes as he sat next to you. He took your arm to see where the needle was connected too, which was a hole in your forearm. It wasn’t too big. He grumbled something before picking up the needle and, much to your surprise, started to sew the hole closed. “I didn’t think you could sow.” You speak aloud, more out of curiosity. Bifur chuckled, shaking his head before looking up at you. He spoke in Khuzdul, which you didn’t understand. But he gestured to you, then to his eyes then the hole. “You learned from me?” You smile, your cheeks burning as he nodded and continued. He must have spent a lot of time watching you considering what a good job he was doing on the stitching. When he finished, you smiled at his word as you inspected it. “Not bad at all. Im very impressed.” You grinned, stretching out your arm and admiring his work. Noise drew both your attentions to the end of the corridor, and you saw Dwalin walk past. In full armour. even after he past, the weight of what that meant stayed on you both. But, for the briefest of moment, you had forgotten about everything. Bifur had a way of doing that with you. He could distract you, making you smile and laugh even when you didn’t think you could. And if something happened to you tomorrow, you wanted him to know that. You wanted him to know everything. Glancing to Bifur, you knew it was now or never. “I love you.” You whispered it as though it were a secret and your cheeks burned. You didn’t dare look at Bifur as his head snapped to you, instead finding interest in the floor. “I just needed you to know that. In case anything happens tomorrow.” you rose to your feet, ready to leave, when a hand grabbed your wrist and you were stopped. Bifur stood in a hurry, words in Khuzdul falling from his lips like he was spitting fire. You smiled, looking at him sadly. “I cant understand you.” You giggled, despite the pain in your chest. You desperately wanted to think he was confessing and undying love for you, but you were a realist. It was far more likely that he was trying to explain how things could never happened, or how he cared for you in other ways. Bifur fell silent, the frustration in his eyes apparent as he seemed to grind his teeth. then, the frustration faded from his face, as if a realization had dawned on him. You were curious and despite the part of you that wanted to run away, you wanted to know what he was thinking. Like you always did. “Bifur?” You asked, drawing his attention back to you. He suddenly leaned down, pressing his lips to your own. You froze, out of sheer panic and surprise. Never, in a thousand years, would you think he would kiss you. You felt him pause, about to pull back when you realised you had been still as a statue. You allowed yourself to dive into the fantasy you had dreamt about for so long, and kissed him back. His bread made your skin itch a little, but you didn’t care as you reached up, your hands finding his chest. A large hand covered your left one while his other hand touched your hip, slipping around to your lower back and pulling you closer. You mewled into the kiss, enjoying the affection and attention, the war that was on the doorstep long forgotten. A voice called through the large hallways. Thorin. It made you jump and step back, panting slightly. Thorin scared you now because he was unpredictable now. The dwarf you had followed seemed long gone, and the stranger who now lead was a far cry from the original. You had hoped that you were wrong and the others who had known him longer would deny your fears. But they didn’t. Thorin called for Bifur to go to the armoury. He didn’t bother coming to search for the dwarf, instead just calling his orders and expecting the echoes to carry them. Bifur looked to you, his eyes silently asking if you were okay. You smiled, giving a small nod. Reaching out, you took his hand for a moment. “Be safe tomorrow.” You said, not posing it as a question but as a statement. He smiled, giving a small nod before mumbling something in his own words. You suspected it was similar to your own statement. and then the two of you parted, and the dread returned to your stomach.

--------------------- time skip – after battle --------------

Racing through the battle field, you couldn’t hear anything as you searched for the dwarfs you had grown so close to. The moment you spotted the floppy hat, you barrelled across the land, throwing yourself at the unexpecting dwarf before he laughed and hugged you back. “Good to see you’re alive too, lass.” Bofur chuckled as you pulled back, his eyes twinkling with relief, happiness and a bit of mischief. “You too. And the others?” You held your breathe for a moment, but Bofur smiled. “Yeah, they made it too. This way.” Bofur grabbed your forearm and pulled you towards the mountain. You saw Bombur resting on a large boulder, a little bit away from all the commotion at the entrance to Erebon. Bifur was standing not far, looking around anxiously with his back to you. But you’d recognised that mass of black hair anywhere. Bombur was the first to spot you, pushing himself off the boulder and engulfing you in a hug. “Thorins sending for family soon. You’ll meet my wife soon.” Bombur pulled back with a smile, and you could see the excitement in his eyes at reuniting with his dear wife. “I cant wait.” You grinned. Movement behind Bombur caught your eyes as you saw Bifur. You ducked under Bomburs arm, you raced to Bifur, throwing your arms around him before you could get a good look at him to make sure he wasn’t hurt. Before you could apologies, his arms locked around you, not allowing you even think about pulling away. “Come, brothers. Lets see if Bilbo is around.” Bofurs voice wasn’t enough to pull you away from the embrace but you saw him and Bombur leaving towards the entrance. Something seemed a little odd about it, and you thought back to the twinkle of mischief in Bofurs eyes, but didn’t want to ruin the moment. “I was so worried about you.” You spoke just above a whisper, blinking back tears of relief. “You cant get rid of me that easily, lass.” The words that met your ears were strange when paired with the voice you were so use to hearing speak Khuzdul. You pulled back, wide- eyed, earning a chuckle from Bifur. “You- you…” you trailed off, but something looked off. Dropping your arms, you frown as you stare at him, trying to figure out what was different. Bifur waited, a smirk on his lips as he held back laughter at your reaction. Then you noticed the dent in his head. “The axe!” You raised your hands over your mouth to cover your surprise. Bifur nearly keeled over as he laughed at your reaction. Proper laughter. Infectious laugher. You smiled fondly, then giggled, then started to laugh with him. In dirty clothes, covered in blood and dirt, with small cuts and nicks and a hell of a lot of bruising, you laughed wholeheartedly for the first time in what felt like a long time. The world fell still around you as you lived in the moment. As the laugher died, you found your feet closing the distant to hug him again. He pulled you tightly against himself, tighter than before. “I love you too.” He breathed in your ear, speaking with adoration and fondness. As if he had said them a million times to you. “really?” You smiled hopefully as you pulled back. “Aye. I tried to tell you before, and again last night, but-“ He pulled one hand off your waist to gesture to the indent that use to have the axe. You ducked your head slightly, smiling like an idiot as your cheeks burned red. He had tried to confess before now? You thought of all the times he had mumbled something to you, looked to you expectantly but always seemed disappointed. Bifur leaned forward, drawing your attention back to him before kissing you again. Neither of you noticed his cousins cheering from the distance.

#bifur x reader #bifur #the hobbit

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randomguywithwords · 4 years ago

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As The Dust Settles: Chapter 19 (Geten X Dabi Slowburn)

Chapter 19: Old Chains

AO3 Link

Previous Chapters: 18, 17, 16, 15, 14, 13, 12, 11, 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1

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The girl bowed and left the room in a hurry, nearly tripping over her feet as she did so. Geten watched her go, her lips pursed. Her behaviour reminded her of that messenger at her lodgings, but while she had smirked at the boy’s cowardice just a few days ago, she felt uneasiness coil around her stomach.

Do they all look at me like that? How long has it been since I’ve been in the city?

She rarely ever walked down a street, not having any need to with her cryokinesis. Transporting herself with her ice was much preferable to reducing herself by commuting alongside the other soldiers in the MLA. The few times she interacted with them...they always had the same look on their faces.

She put those thoughts aside and returned to an even more unpleasant subject: the book in her hand that she had requested the girl bring to her. It was familiar to her like a mother to her infant. The same indented red cover with its engraving of the symbol of the MLA. The same title emblazoned with gold.

Meta Liberation War.

She knew the book back to front. If prompted by anyone, she could recite the pledge, the paragraphs or the sign off by Destro in a heartbeat. She had spent years memorising every key sentence, every declaration made by the founder of the Army she belonged to, and so on.

So why am I holding it in my hand?

Well, for one, she needed something to keep her distracted while she was stuck in the hospital ward, thanks to a certain fire-user and a dumb pact made just an hour or so ago.

“Ok, five day hospitalisation, doc’s orders.” Dabi turned to leave the room.

“No, I’m leaving tomorrow,” Geten shot back, crossing her arms.

“Uh huh, because you’d be fully recovered, right?”

She paused, searching for a retort. “You can’t make me stay here.”

Even to her, it sounded childish, and Dabi’s choked laughter told her he was thinking the same way. “Tell you what, what’s your favourite food?”

The question caught her off-guard. She blinked twice, wondering if that question came from him. “I don’t have one.”

“Bullshit. Everyone has one.”

“Unlike you, I’m not that much of an adolescent to show preferences for food. I eat whatever’s there.”

“It’s something cold, isn’t it? Soba?”

“How – wha –” She spluttered. “No, no it’s not.”

“You chill here until Friday, and I’ll get you soba.”

“Even if I did like it, I could just get it myself.” She was hoping her expression wasn’t betraying how much she liked the noodles.

“Not in Deika City, obviously. You think this shithole has any good food?”

“We can’t just leave –” Her exasperation was overpowered by his when he cut her off with, “Do you want the soba or not?”

A spasm of pain coursed through her ribs, causing her to wince. “Fine,” She muttered, and sat down on the bed.

“See you Friday then. My god, you’re stubborn.” He left and shut the door.

The memory, fresh in her mind, was oddly warming to think about, while the metal-engraved title of the book felt cold to the touch, pulling her back to the present.

The second reason was repetition – too much of it, that is. She compared it to her mastery over her meta ability made it a part of her, that she barely gave a thought whenever she levitated ice. Likewise, she could recant any part of the book with no hesitance. But even though I speak the words out loud, how much thought have I given their meaning?

She flipped open the book. Destro’s words filled Geten’s head like a lullaby a parent might sing to their child, not that the young woman knew what that was like.

“I am not in a prison. I am in solitude, and in this solitude have I found solace…” She read out loud to herself in the ward. It was habitual to do so, but as she kept reading, her voice trailed off as she studied it, and a growing void inside her gnawed at her heart.

I dream of a society where the use of our meta abilities is uncontrolled, as the great power that granted the human race this blessing intended. It was, and is, and will always be, a gift. Yet it is also a responsibility to bear. We must show the world the truth the governments try to conceal. They pass human laws that goes against the natural law. I, and my army, tried to show them this truth, but it is with great regret and sorrow that I announce an obstacle in our path towards destiny. My incarceration.

…

Strength is survival. Strength is our meta abilities, and honing them to perfection, achieving what we called “apotheosis” in the ancient past. To become god-like.

“And yet, you died, Destro,” Geten murmured. “And still we...we honour and revere you…” The void grew larger.

The journey unto death is one I will undertake after I finish writing this, but know that death is not the end for us. While I concede death is a frightening concept, I encourage you to believe that it is an inspiration for others. To die in battle is honourable. I only wish I had done so, but what has happened is set in stone. My death is a protest to the laws that chain us, but it is also your empowerment, to do what I could not.

“Death,” Geten whispered, the word tasting like poison on her tongue. She remembered both times she was one thread away from it: the barrel of Trumpet’s gun pointed at her, and the fists of Takame. In the first, she was not in combat. It would have been an assassination, would it not? And in the second…

Her chest hurt at the thought. She felt no honour, only emptiness and fear, knowing what the Liberation Army had done to her attacker’s family, and knowing her death was imminent.

Is it possible that Destro had feared death as well?

The reminder about Takame’s wife brought her to flip the pages to the section on the powerless, or, as Destro put it...

It is not some genetic disorder as the men in white coats would tell you. They are simply the unfortunate ones to not have received this gift. Pity them, for they, the outcasts, deserve your pity.

“Mihara…” She looked just like her. If she was wandering around Deika City, Geten would have thought she was some ordinary soldier. An ordinary person, even. How was she an outcast? Why did the MLA start hunting down the quirkless? Out of pity? They deserved it?

She slammed the book shut as the image of her dead body appeared in her mind. She drew deep breaths to calm herself – had she been hyperventilating this entire time? Her fists were trembling, blood pounding in her head in anger of it all.

The agony was a python writhing on her chest while old memories resurfaced from the aching in her brain. She remembered what Re-destro taught her, and how he did it.

A growl rose in her throat.

Kicked. Starved. Left alone to fend for herself, in the name of “liberation”. Everything that she did. Everything that was done to me, was in the name of liberation, but it shackled me more and more.

“Gah!” She flung the book across the room and buried her head in her hands.

She sat there upright on the hospital bed for some time, the silence screaming all the answers she did not want to hear, but had to, to her.

“You don’t find anything wrong with that?” Dabi had said on the plane. She remembered his countenance, a mixture of irritation and pity, whenever she spoke about the MLA. She had chalked it up to the arrogance of the victorious, or just a dislike of her, which was mutual then, so it never bothered her to think further. The pieces started to click together.

“You dropped this.” A dry voice made her look up, and a paleness spread across her face like permafrost.

Tomura Shigaraki stood at her doorway, dressed in a crimson jacket whose sleeves ran down his arms and black undershirt, whilst wearing jeans. He looked like any other ordinary person, if not for the severed hand on his face. In his hand was the book.

Instantly, thoughts of a legless Re-destro, or the piles of dust that once were Shigaraki’s opponents flooded her mind. She gripped the bedsheets tightly.

“Why are you here? And...I don’t need that.” Geten averted her eyes.

Shigaraki tossed it to the side and shut the door behind her. “I’m not here to kill you or anything, don’t shit yourself. I came here to see how you were doing. I gotta say, you look like you got broken up with.”

His words didn’t reassure her in the least, especially not the way he said ‘kill you’, but his posture didn’t indicate any animosity, so Geten took his word for it. Clearing her throat and steadying herself as best as she could, she responded, “I’m fine.”

“What’s with the book throw? Test tomorrow?”

“No,” She replied with an edge to her voice.

“You pissed?”

She exhaled. “Yes,” She said, mustering all the civility and politeness she had left.

“How nice,” He said, the concern in his tone matching that of his expression. “Anyway, you’re free to do what you want now. I got nothing for Violet Regiment. You’re excused from the council meetings till you’re discharged, whenever the hell that is.”

She blinked. “That’s all?”

Shigaraki cocked his head. “What, you were expecting a celebration of your win?”

“No...never mind. Th – thank you, Commander.” She bowed her head.

She heard the door slam and looked back up. She let loose a shuddering breath of relief from the sole fact that she was alive and not missing a limb, or an entire torso. He had looked more disinterested, as if she was an ant on his finger, but she would gladly accept that over a smiling Shigaraki.

Did Dabi actually talk to him? She recalled the promise he had made on the motorbike ride.

Maybe the consequences were waiting for her once her hospitalization was over, which made goosebumps appear on her skin. She held the sheets closer to her. Still, Shigaraki didn’t seem like the type to grant her catharsis before unleashing whatever hell he wanted upon her. If he was going to punish her, he would have done so just now.

Geten sighed and sunk back underneath the covers. Or maybe I’m just lying to myself...

It was only mid-afternoon, judging from the sky outside, yet fatigue, both physical and mental, weighed her limbs down as if she had been training the whole day. The bed suddenly felt like the softest, most comforting thing in the world. Unable to fight against her body, she closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep, her thoughts too cluttered to sift through. A few names and words stood out, one of which was, Find Dabi.

––––––––

Had some time to finish this up. Hope you liked it.

#bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bnha fanfiction #bnha fanfic #mha fanfic #mha fanfiction #dabi x geten #dabixgeten #getenxdabi #dabiten #geten #bnha geten #mha geten #dabi #mha dabi #bnha dabi #atds

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myownworldstayout · 5 years ago

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New Friends Ch. 4

Ch.1 / Ch.3 / Ch.5

(Here you guys go!)

Adrien grew impatient as he lingered on the front steps of the school. Where was Marinette? They had the same class so he knew she got out of school when he did. What else did she have planned?

Aside from that, how many other people was she going to tell about Lila? Adrien wasn’t sure what to think anymore. Weren’t they in this together? She agreed not to expose Lila so what was going on?

His pacing came to a pause when he heard a familiar voice.

Adrien turned to see Marinette walking down the steps, muttering to herself about her schedule and homework assignments. Before he could call out to her, though, they made eye contact.

(Change to Marinette’s PoV)

Marinette and Adrien both froze, staring at each other for some time.

Finally, Adrien found it in himself to move.

“We need to talk.”

“Adrien, I don’t thin-”

“Mari, please.” The boy pleaded.

This caused Marinette to hesitate, biting her lip.

Taking the opportunity, Adrien took a step forward, lowering his voice.

“We agreed not to tell anyone. What are you doing?” Even though his voice was solely one of concern, Marinette felt herself getting upset.

“I didn’t deliberately find people to tell, it just happened.” She defended. “After yesterday, I was upset and Luka found me. He was worried so I told him what happened.”

“But this isn’t the way to take care of Lila-”

“I wasn’t taking care of Lila, I was taking care of me!” Marinette raised her voice slightly, but quickly brought it back down.

Adrien stalled, not expecting her outburst.

“No one believes me, Adrien.”

“I believe you.”

That’s not enough. Marinette thought, a bitterness rising in her throat.

Adrien, unaware of her true feelings, took another step forward, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. Any other day she would have melted at his touch.

Not today.

“So believe me when I say exposing Lila isn’t the way to get others to believe you.”

Anger flared up in her chest and she yanked her shoulder out of his grasp.

“Really? Because it worked.”

“Mari, it’ll only make you look bad-”

“And I don’t look bad already?”

“If you just let her lies crumble themselves-”

Marinette let out a huff, opening her mouth to argue.

“And how long is that going to take?” A voice interrupted instead, taking the words right out of her mouth.

The two looked up to see Felix just now exiting the school, walking down the steps towards them.

“Felix, this doesn’t concern you.” Adrien said calmly, trying to be patient.

“If the class is dumb enough to fall for Rossi’s lies so far, no matter how incredulous, it wouldn’t surprise me if she kept her grip on this school until we all go off to college.” Felix continued, not acknowledging Adrien’s insinuation to leave.

Marinette, though it pained her slightly, agreed with everything Felix was saying. Lila had been stringing the class along for a while now- a month, at least. Who’s to say they’ll ever catch onto her lies?

“We have to have faith in our friends.” Adrien, however, seemed to strongly disagree, and it made Marinette uncomfortable.

“Why should she? They didn’t have any faith in her.” Felix responded curtly.

This threw Adrien. He looked to Marinette for help, which was a grave mistake.

The girl panicked, stuttering out a few “uhm”s and “well”s as she fiddled with her hands.

“Is everything okay?”

Marinette then felt a soft hand on her shoulder. Another savior. She glanced up at Luka, meeting his electric blue eyes with appreciation. Kagami, Aurore, and Wayhem were right behind him, all looking on the scene with a mix of concern and suspicion.

With so many people now involved, Adrien didn’t see a point in trying to continue the conversation.

He blew out a sigh, rubbing the back of his neck.

“We’ll talk more about this later..” He grumbled, before turning on his heel and walking to his awaiting car.

No. Marinette thought as she watched him drive off. We won’t.

She had made her decision, and not even the charming “ray of sunshine” could change her mind.

~~~~~~

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Tikki asked later that night, not to dissuade her, but to make sure Marinette wasn’t going to regret it.

“I.. yes. I’m sure.” Marinette’s eyes filled with determination. “Felix is right. Why should I have faith in them when they didn’t have faith in me?”

She didn’t think she could blatantly ignore her friends, but she would stop blaming herself for Lila’s actions. Marinette wasn’t going to let that be the focus of her life any longer. She would fight back when she felt the need to, but maybe she could just ignore Lila for now?

Tikki didn’t argue with her. She simply helped her holder with her homework for the evening. At least Marinette had some friends again. If she wanted to spend time with them, what was the harm?

~~~~~~~

Marinette walked into class the next morning feeling much more at ease than the day before. Sure, Lila’s lies still bothered her and they would undoubtedly give Marinette more trouble later. However, Marinette told herself, that was all the more reason to enjoy this moment of peace. So, as Lila rattled off her newest story to her mesmerized fans, Marinette quietly took her new seat in the back.

Felix wasn’t there yet, giving Marinette some time to think of what she could do with her new group of friends. They could come over to her house to play games or bake treats together. Or maybe they could go on a picnic together! Marinette could bring all kinds of sweets, along with a blanket of her own design and complimentary drinks or-

“Oh, I almost forgot to ask, do we get Marinette’s treats before or after Miss Bustier’s class?” Lila suddenly asked, bringing Marinette’s daydreams to a halt.

The class, for once, appeared to be just as confused as her.

“Marinette isn’t bringing any treats today.” Alya spoke up, giving the ravenette a questioning look.

Marinette shook her head, confirming that she had indeed not brought any treats this morning.

“Oh! My mistake!” Lila apologized, flailing her hands a bit. “I just thought since Marinette is such a good friend to you guys that she brought in cookies from the bakery once a week? Now that I think about it, I don’t even know where I got the idea.”

Marinette glared at the Italian girl. It was obvious she was just trying to get free cookies while stirring up more trouble.

Somehow, the class rallied behind her and Marinette found herself pressured to make them cookies, for she would be awful and horrible and the worst if she didn’t. But then, Marinette felt compelled to. A spiteful thought poked the back of her head and festered and clouded over Marinette’s mind.

Her lips curled into a smile. “Sure, I can bring some cookies to class tomorrow if you want.”

They wanted cookies? Alright. She’d give them cookies.

The class let out a few cheers and excitedly began chatting to each other about their favorite flavors.

Not even a few minutes later, though, the excitement died in their throats as Felix Culpa walked into the classroom. He was met with eyerolls, glares, and a few bitter grumbles.

Felix ignored all of them, walking straight to the back seat, once again sitting next to Marinette.

“Good morning.” She greeted with a smile, pleased he chose to sit next to her again. This time, he couldn’t use the excuse of not being able to sit anywhere else, since almost all of the were still empty.

Felix hummed in response, pulling out another book he had started the day before.

At least he’s not ignoring me like everyone else. Marinette considered, studying him for a moment.

“Hey, Marinette. Why don’t you come sit over here?” Alya suggested, keeping her glare on Felix.

Oh, now you want to sit with me? Marinette thought irritably, but she kept a smile.

“That’s okay. I wouldn’t want to take Lila’s seat. Tinnitus is a serious issue, you know.” Although her tone was innocent, it was also just a bit too sweet.

Felix hid a smile behind his book, but Alya frowned.

“Lila can sit next to Adrien, it’s fine.” She reasoned.

Now Nino frowned. He didn’t like being sacrificed to sit in the back with the wet blanket.

“Oh, please, let the pastry girl sit in the back. The farther from me, the better.” Chloe cut in, rolling her eyes.

Alya was quick to turn her glare to Chloe.

“I’m sure she’s just as happy to be away from your sorry attitude.” The reporter snapped.

Felix raised an eyebrow towards her behavior, Marinette furrowing her eyebrows. So Alya would defend her against Chloe, but not Lila? Weird.

“Guys, no one has to fight.” Lila spoke up, probably starved of attention already. “If you want to sit next to Marinette, I’ll move to back. I’m sure I can borrow notes after class?” She offered, slowly rising out of her seat like a lost kitten.

Of course, the class rushed to comfort her.

“It’s really alright.” Mylene assured.

“You can stay in your seat.” Rose smiled.

“Marinette said she was fine anyway.” Alya swiftly recanted her previous request towards Lila’s pity party.

There it is. Marinette and Felix seemed to think at the same time.

Lila finally “gave in” to their persistence and remained in her seat. Around that time, Mrs. Bustier walked in, demanding the class’ attention, and started the lesson.

The class settled in their seats and got out their tablets. Marinette stayed in the back.

~~~~~~

Felix blew out a sigh as he powered off his tablet to put in his backpack. It was just his luck that he was placed in the most incompetent class of his new school. Nevertheless, he supposed there were some people who weren’t complete idiots.

“Luka said they’re eating at the cafeteria again today. Are you gonna join us?”

The girl next to him smiled warmly, hoisting her bag over her shoulder.

Marinette.

Although she could be obnoxiously sweet and a bit naive, she was also sensible, hardworking, and honest. Those were qualities he could admire.

“No, I’m going to the library.” Felix answered, picking up his brown, leather bag as well. He hadn’t had a chance to go through their book collection at the school yet.

“Oh.. alright.” Marinette faltered. Was she disappointed? That was a first.

She then pulled another bright smile, covering it up.

“I’ll see you after lunch then.” She said hopefully, waving as she hopped down the steps. With that, she was gone. And Felix was by himself again.

He stared after her for only a moment, before starting for the library. If he remembered correctly- and he usually did- it’s the room to the left of the gym.

Felix ignored the hateful looks and whispers he received as he walked. Truth be told, he didn’t mind his classmates hating him. In fact, he quite enjoyed it at times. It made things much easier to focus on his work. Quietly. He was actually a bit enthusiastic about seeing their book collection. He’d heard it had quite the selection. That was a main reason he transferred to this school.

Unfortunately, he was only able to get to the gym when someone called out to him.

“Felix, wait up!” Lila nearly cooed, running over to him.

He kept walking, ignoring her greeting.

She was persistent, though.

“I’ve been wanting to talk with you!” She beamed, coming up to hang loosely on his arm. “I felt like we got off to the wrong start.”

Felix jerked his arm out of hers, quickening his pace without a word. He wasn’t interested in whether or not they got off to the wrong start. Lila was too flamboyant for them to ever be friends. Not to mention her lies and manipulations of the whole class. Felix might be cold to the touch, but he, at least, had morals.

Lila flinched and took a step back, her hazel eyes glazing over in shock. She knew Felix was more closed off than her other classmates, but that usually worked.

The girl recovered quickly, shaking her head and catching up to Felix again.

“Are you going to the library? I haven’t been there recently, but my uncle owns a library the size of this school back in Italy. Do you mind if I accompany you?” She asked sweetly.

“Yes.” Felix answered shortly. This boy wasn’t budging.

It was then Lila’s smile fell, her eyes getting wide and teary.

“I-I didn’t mean to bother you..” She began, her gaze cast to the floor. “I just wanted to be friends.. Was it something I said? Did-”

Lila gasped. “- did Marinette say something to you?”

Felix’s fresh glare told her everything she needed to know.

“She did say something! Felix, please understand, whatever she told you isn’t true. Marinette doesn’t like me very much.. I know that, but-”

Felix let out a frustrated groan, causing Lila to pause.

“I don’t care what Dupain-Cheng said.” He bit off. “That isn’t the problem.”

Lila frowned.

“Then what is?” She asked in a hopeful tone. If she could find out the problem, then she could fix it. After all, Lila couldn’t have someone siding with Marinette. Once one person does, others might start to join in, and all of her hard work would go to waste.

Felix’s reply, however, shattered her hope in an instant. “You.”

“I- what?”

“You are the problem.” He repeated, shooting her another icy glare.

The blonde didn’t pay attention to her sputters, simply walking passed her towards the library. Felix had business to attend to, and Lila wasn’t it.

~~~~~~

Lila scowled as she stalked back to the classroom for next period. That did not go as planned. That was worse than when she confronted the pigtailed girl.

At least Marinette gave her a reason as to why she didn’t like her. Felix just brushed her off without so much as a care in the world. That might have been what irked her the most.

Everyone had their quirks. Everyone had their ticks. And Lila had a specialty for finding those out and using them. But Felix, Felix wasn’t as naive or open as everyone else. He was guarded from the start. That was a problem she wasn’t quite sure how to fix.

But as frustrating as it was, that wasn’t what she couldn’t wrap her head around.

“Are you okay?” Alya asked as they slid into their seats.

Lila looked up at her classmate, pulling a tight smile.

“Of course! Just thinking about homework.” She lied, stealing a glance towards the back.

Marinette appeared to be absently talking about something while doodling on her tablet. Felix intently listened, throwing in a comment or critique every now and then.

That’s what Lila didn’t understand.

He’s cold to everyone. She nearly growled at the thought. What’s so different about her?

Out of everyone in the class, Felix just had to talk to Marinette, the only person who wasn’t blinded by her lies.

“Class, attention please.” Mlle. Bustier spoke up, tapping her pointer to the chalkboard.

Lila’s eyes suddenly lit up as something clicked in her mind.

“You are the problem”, Felix had said. That was why he talked to Marinette. She was the only one who didn’t like her.

Lila felt a smile spread across her lips. Very well. If she couldn’t persuade Felix to her side, then she would flush him under with Marinette.

Tag list: @unabashedbookworm @bluerosette23 @minightrose @rhub4rb @clumsy-owl-4178 @kuroko26 @angstyrastuff @fanboy7794 @choaticneturcl @dargeon-lissa @kristycocopop @alumneia

(Again, sorry If the tag doesn’t work. some of them just won’t cooperate)

#Felinette #Felix Culpa #New Friends AU

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stolethekey · 5 years ago

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Hey! I love your blog! I was wondering if you’re still doing the soft angst prompts if you could possible do one for Steve/Nat with “I wasn’t ready to say goodbye” ☺️

from anonymous: are you still doing the prompts? would love for you to do ‘i wasn’t ready to say goodbye.’ ❤️

this one has also been in my inbox for five thousand years and i am also very sorry it took this long ok here we go

The air feels different as they eat at Sam’s table.

Natasha’s wolfing down eggs and waffles like she hasn’t eaten in days, and as Steve works slowly through his own heaping breakfast plate, he wonders if she notices it too.

It’s lighter, somehow, like their conversation in the guest room had cleared some of the unspoken fog between them. And despite everything, despite the metaphorical bomb about HYDRA infiltrating SHIELD and the literal bomb that had nearly killed both of them, he feels more secure about their partnership than ever before.

He wonders, as they shoo Sam out of the kitchen and wash the dishes side-by-side, just what it could become. If putting more out in the open could help it reach its full potential, whatever that might be.

“You asked me, earlier,” he ventures, clearing his throat, “Who the woman in that picture was.”

The sponge stills in her hand.

“Her name was Peggy Carter.”

Natasha turns the faucet off before turning to look at him. “I know,” she says, almost hesitantly. “But who was she to you?”

There is a moment of silence before he answers. “She wasn’t—not a girlfriend, really. A first love, maybe. But I went in the ice before anything could happen, so—”

“That’s rough,” she says softly.

“I think it’s mostly painful because of what she represents, you know? She’s always going to be my biggest what if—what if I hadn’t crashed? What if I’d found another way? What if I had lived through the sixty years I slept through?”

He sighs. “I guess I just—I wasn’t ready to say goodbye. To that world, to that life, to her.”

A faint, sad smile makes its way onto her face.

“No,” she says. “We never are.”

He meets her eyes, and something shifts in his gut as he does.

“Did you ever have something like that?”

“Yeah,” she says, almost wearily, as she turns back toward the sink. “SHIELD.”

Steve is standing on a bridge, gazing at the endless expanse of water before him, when she comes to find him.

He does not return the small smile she gives him.

“If you’re going to tell me that I might have to kill him,” he says shortly, “You can save it. Sam’s already given me that speech.”

“I’m not,” she murmurs. “I just wanted to say—I’m sorry. About Bucky.”

Steve sighs, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I’m sorry he almost shot your shoulder off.”

Natasha shrugs, leaning forward to rest her arms on the railing. “You’re not the only one he means something to, you know.”

He looks over at that, watching her study the water in front of them. He wonders if the scar that is forming on her shoulder will match the one on her abdomen, if it will be as painful a reminder to her as it is to him.

“You went to the museum,” he guesses.

“A while ago, but yeah.”

“Learn anything?”

Her gaze flickers briefly toward him before she answers. “Some. Not about me, but about who he used to be. It helped me make sense of the James I knew, I guess.”

He hums, and he lets the silence linger between them for a moment before speaking again.

“I wasn’t ready to say goodbye, back then. And I would rather not have to now, either.”

“Yeah,” she says softly. “Me either.”

He tries not to sob as Natasha walks up the aisle toward him, her footsteps echoing in the empty chamber.

It is hauntingly terrible, Steve thinks, that a room used for a commemoration of life just moments ago could empty out so quickly.

She opens her mouth to say something, but Steve suddenly feels an overwhelming urge to speak first, to do something other than recall the way that casket felt against his hands.

“When I came out of the ice,” he says, trying to control the shake in his voice, “I thought everyone I’d known was gone. Then I found out she was alive, and—I was just lucky to have her.”

The corner of her mouth ticks up into a small, comforting smile. “She had you back, too.”

His jaw clenches as he looks down at the floor, and she shifts in front of him.

“After everything that happened with SHIELD, during my little hiatus—I went back to Russia and tried to find my parents.”

His heart gives a small, dull lurch as he looks up.

Natasha gives her head a little shake, and a stone drops in his stomach. “Two little gravestones by a chain-linked fence. I pulled some weeds and left some flowers.”

She exhales shakily, and he waits for her to finish. “I’m just trying to say—we have what we have when we have it.”

Her voice is thin, with both her own pain and his, and suddenly he is done talking about this.

“Who else signed?” he asks brusquely, trying to ignore the hurt that flashes through her eyes.

She sighs, and he feels slightly guilty at the relief that comes with her lack of protest. “Tony, Rhodey, Vision.”

“Clint?”

“Says he’s retired,” she says flatly, and her eyes flick downward in a way that tells Steve she may be less than happy with that decision.

He looks briefly towards the door, trying to delay their march towards the inevitable destination of this conversation.

“Wanda?”

“TBD,” she says, a sardonic edge to her voice, and he hates that she can read him so well.

“You know, I’m off to Vienna,” she continues, her voice deliberately casual. “There’s plenty of room in the jet.”

He gives a heavy, tortured sigh, and she takes a step toward him.

“Just because it’s the path of least resistance doesn’t mean it’s the wrong path,” she says quietly. “Staying together is more important than how we stay together.”

Steve looks up, meeting her eyes, and he knows that she isn’t just talking about the Avengers.

There was a time he would’ve given almost anything for that offer.

“But…what are we giving up to do it?”

She sighs, sad but not surprised, and he tries to ignore the pain that shoots through his chest.

“I’m sorry, Nat.” He swallows, agonizingly aware of the finality his words bring. “I can’t sign it.”

Her eyes are disarmingly clear as she gives him a small, resigned smile, tilting her head slightly. “I know.”

“Well, then, what are you doing here?”

She rolls her eyes, and the familiarity of the sight almost makes him recant his decision right then and there.

“I didn’t want you to be alone.”

It occurs to him, as she wraps him in her arms, that the choice he has made is not costless, either—and the fact that he is giving her up is too excruciating to think about.

So he tightens his arms around her, letting his unspoken words hover around them, and mumbles into her hair.

“I wasn’t ready to say goodbye.” And I’m not ready to say goodbye to you.

“I know,” she murmurs, her breath soft against his neck. “I know.”

They find their way back to each other, miraculously, and Steve promises himself he will never stop being grateful for it.

This promise becomes more and more difficult to keep as time passes, as their friends disappear along with half the universe and the ones that don’t get snapped do too.

Their worlds have always had their fair share of pain, but the lining of hope and comfort they used to bring each other seems harder and harder to find.

He attempts to conjure up some semblance of it when he walks in on her crying, because Natasha has cried more in the past few years than she has in her entire life and every one of her tears sends a jolt of anger through his body.

“I used to have nothing,” she says hoarsely. “But then I got this. This job, this family. And I was better because of it.”

She swallows thickly. “And even though—even though they’re gone, I’m still trying to be better.”

“You are being better.”

“I let myself get attached,” she whispers. “I wasn’t ready to say goodbye.”

“Nobody was.”

She doesn’t answer, so he tries again, forcing some humor into his voice. “I think we both need to get a life.”

She cracks a slightly teary smile, and the fissure in his heart heals a little bit. “You first.”

Time, as it turns out, is his primary source of pain.

It is time that took him from Peggy, and time that takes Peggy from the world.

It is time that robs him and Natasha from developing whatever it is they have into whatever it is it could be, time that forces them to jump from motel to motel instead of spending time in the state-of-the-art facility he knows she deserves. And once they return to that facility, it is the time that fills their lives with pain rather than joy.

It is time that finally manages to do what master assassins, Nazi organizations, and one hundred and seventeen world governments failed to do—it is time that fully, irrevocably, takes Natasha from him. With her, it takes every semblance of hope he had for finding a life in the messy, once-beautiful world he thought he might someday build a home in.

Timing is everything, as the saying goes, and maybe it is—but god, he wishes it wasn’t.

The timing of the funeral is really something, too, because the sun is out and the lake is beautiful and Steve could not hate it more. He hates the way his eyes burn during everyone’s speeches, hates the way his fist clenches in an effort to stem the audible sobs wracking his body. He hates the sympathetic pats and murmurs that he barely notices, hates the pity in everyone’s eyes as he stands and walks to take his place at their makeshift podium.

He hates that he can trace the ghosts of her footsteps on this very deck, hates that he has somehow once again cheated time and she has not.

Tomorrow, he knows, they will return to the job at hand, and he will fight alongside his friends, because that is the only thing he knows how to do and he will not let her sacrifice be in vain. At the moment, however, he knows nothing but grief, pain, and an all-consuming hatred for the concept of time.

His hands shake as he takes a deep breath, trying to collect himself before he speaks.

“Natasha meant a lot to me,” he says, letting his eyes shut briefly. “And I wasn’t ready to say goodbye.”

send me a soft angst prompt from this list (or one of your own)!

#my fics #finished prompts #unholyromanoff #anonymous #steve rogers x natasha romanoff #captain america #Black Widow #capwidow #romanogers #stevenat #avengers #marvel #marvel fanfiction #MCU fic

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minijenn · 5 years ago

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Mismatched Making Preview 3

Last one ya’ll get for this chapter and LEMME FUCKIN TELL YOU I’M OVER HERE DYING AT HOW CUTE THESE KIDS ARE! WRITING FLUFFY MOMENTS BETWEEN THESE TWO IS SO FUCKING EASY I THINK I MIGHT JUST OVERDOSE ON ADORABLE OVER HERE BLESSSSSSS

***

“Wait, so let me see if I can get this all straight,” Pacifica interjected, holding her hands up. “So your great uncle actually has a twin brother who was trapped in another dimension for the past 30 years. And the whole time, your uncle was trying to bring that brother back by huge portal thing that was secretly under the Mystery Shack the entire time but no one knew about it?”

“Yeah, pretty much,” Dipper nodded.

“And the Gems factor into all this… how?”

“They sort of… don’t for a pretty long time. Like I said before, they lost their memories about all of this thanks to their leader, Rose, erasing them after they were all possessed by…” Dipper trailed off, his expression darkening at the mere thought of the dream demon. “Y-you know what? N-never mind that for right now.”

“Oh, thank goodness,” Pacifica sighed, relieved. “I feel like my brain’s about to burst from everything you’ve been telling me. Your life is like some crazy movie or huge story written by a psychopath or something. Seriously, how do you deal with all these massive bombshell shakeups all the time?”

“Eh, you learn to just deal with them as they come,” Dipper shrugged, hopping up onto a nearby log to take a seat. Pacifica joined him, glad for the much needed break from their ongoing hike, though even so, she watched in curious confusion as Dipper pulled a snack out of his bag that she was entirely unfamiliar with.

“What’s that?” she asked, intrigued by the oddly shaped sandwich.

“Oh, it’s peanut butter and jelly,” Dipper grinned, offering half to her. “Mabel packed it for me before we left and for some reason she cut it into a heart shape and said it was ‘for luck’, whatever that means. Anyway, you can have some if you’re hungry.”

Pacifica didn’t immediately accept his offer, instead looking over the half-heart sandwich with a furrowed brow of confusion. “You said this is a… peanut--who and… what, exactly?”

“What, you’ve never had a peanut butter and jelly sandwich before?” Dipper asked with an incredulous chuckle before meeting the heiress’s dumbfounded expression once more. “Oh my gosh, you’re serious, aren’t you?”

“Is this some sort of… poor person snack?” Pacifica wondered, holding the sandwich up to get a better look at it. “N-not that being poor is a bad thing! Its just… I-I’m not really allowed to anything that hasn’t cost over at least $100 per tiny gourmet plate portion, so… yeah…”

“Are you kidding?” Dipper asked in apt disbelief. “Your parents don’t even let you eat what you want?”

“Heh, welcome to the super ‘glamorous’ world of a Northwest,” the heiress laughed somewhat bitterly.

“Well, here’s your official welcome into the super average world of a Pines,” Dipper countered, placing his half of the sandwich into her open hand with a playful grin. “And unlike most of your high class gourmet meals, this one’s completely free.”

Pacifica tried her best to suppress the sudden blush that filled her cheeks as she accepted his offering, though all the same, she was still a bit hesitant to try the sandwich for herself. Until, of course, she ventured her first bite of the sandwich. “Mm! This is sooo good!” she exclaimed, her eyes alight with newfound discovery. She disregarded all the proper manners she had been taught in favor of voicing her overwhelming excitement over such a simple treat. “The bread’s so soft and it’s all so creamy, but then there’s like… little nuts in it too? I love that!”

“That’s the power of chunky peanut butter,” Dipper chuckled, warmly amused by the heiress’s elation as she scarfed down another bite.

“And this fruity taste? What is that?”

“Strawberry jam. So technically, it’s more of a peanut butter and jam sandwich, but eh same difference.”

“Whatever it is, it’s amazing!” Pacifica grinned as she finished off the other half. “And you just eat stuff like that all the time?!”

“Eh, maybe not all the time, but PB&J is a longtime favorite for me and Mabel for a reason,” Dipper said, still laughing, especially as he noticed the small smudge of jam marring the heiress’s cheek. “Oh, hey, you got a little something on your cheek there.”

“Huh?” Pacifica reached up, rubbing just shy of the jam that she missed it entirely.

“Here, let me,” Dipper slipped his vest off, not really having anything else but the corner of it to wipe the heiress’ face clean. He stopped short as soon as he did however, suddenly caught off guard by exactly what he was doing, and exactly how close their faces happened to be as he did. In the briefest, most breathless of moments, he caught sight of her eyes, wide and wondering as they practically sparkled in the low light coming in through the trees above. Eyes that were staring at nothing else in the world at that moment... other than him. “I-I… s-sorry,” he quickly recanted, backing off as he hastily threw his vest back on and slipped off the log to stand. “W-we should probably get going.”

“O-oh…” Pacifica frowned somewhat, slowly, almost sadly returning to reality as she did the same. “Yeah, you’re right… Um… thanks, by the way, for the… what was it called again? Sandy Witch?”

“Sandwich,” Dipper corrected with a smirk. “And you’re welcome. I’ll be sure to bring you another one when we hang out again tomorrow.”

“T-tomorrow…” Pacifica repeated, her former smile returning in full force upon hearing this. “Yeah, tomorrow. I can hardly wait…”

#SO CUTE IM DROWNING #AND THEY'RE NOT EVEN AT THE FULL ON ROMANCE STAGE YET HOW AM I EVEN SUPPOSED TO HANDLE THAT #GOOOOSSSSHHHHHH #jen writes #universe falls #uf preview #mismatched making

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omgviolette12 · 6 years ago

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After Hours -Chapter 2 A Professor Loki fanfic

Previous chapter

Summary: Evelyn Monroe has been a TA for professor Laufeyson’s Calculus course for four months now. He was known to be quite strict, but that never deterred her from applying for the position in order to be close to the man she had been secretly pining for. One evening, she returns to his office after opening hours… and with her bountiful luck, she walks in on something not meant to be seen.

Warnings: Sexual content, Excessive swearing

Chapters: 2/?

Words: 1805

Tags: @milkymaidme @dangertoozmanykids101 @alexakeyloveloki @little-moonbeam-666

If you’d like to be added, let me know. I’ve also posted this on AO3

___________

Never, in all twenty-four years of her life, did Evelyn ever think she would see the stoic and cold Professor Laufeyson in this manner.

He looked close to animalistic as he pounded into the female underneath him - his long raven hair dampened by sweat, his shirt open to reveal his chiseled form, and pants down just enough to release the cock currently nestled deep inside the mystery woman’s cunt.

Her professor was so concentrated on his task, that it took the screaming woman underneath him to alert him of Evelyn’s presence.

When he finally noticed her, Professor Laufeyson had gone sheet white, shock and terror written on his features.

Evelyn was frozen in place, eyes wide and mouth agape as she watched the two people in the room frantically try to cover their modesty.

The woman leapt off the desk in a panic, stooping down behind it to hide her nakedness. Her professor was busy buttoning his shirt with trembling hands after tucking his softening erection back inside his pants, having long discarded the paddle to the floor.

Evelyn’s eyes then looked down to the lemon cake that had spilled entirely outside its box, ruining a vast majority of the polished floor.

Without thinking, she dropped to the floor in a stupid attempt to shove the cake back inside the box, “Oh- oh my god, holy shit oh my god I’m so sorry, I- I just wanted to.. Holy shit..!”

Evidently, Evelyn was unable to think clearly in her frazzled state. In her attempt to salvage the cake, she only worsened the mess on the floor.

Although her ears were buzzing in a panic, she could still hear her professor’s breathless voice above her.

“What… What are you doing here… ?”

The only answer he received was incoherent babblings from a woman who was not in her right mind, “I-I- I don’t know I thought I heard my name - fuck this fucking cake! Holy fuck…”

Panic coursed through his veins as he felt himself raise his voice, “Just leave it. LEAVE!”

He didn’t need to tell her twice.

Evelyn got up quickly, but with the mess on the floor, she slipped right back down face first with a crack.

He did not expect that. Before he could even attempt to help her, she scrambled up off the floor, cupping her nose as she ran out of his office. The cake on her flats gave her extra speed as she slipped and slid through the hallway, leaving behind a trail of cake as she raced to exit the building.

Evelyn did not stop running, tears blurring her vision as she ran all the way to her apartment. Perhaps due to adrenaline, what would have been a thirty-minute walk home only took ten minutes with the way she ran.

She didn’t even bother trying to find her keys, and instead started to bang on the door until her sister opened it for her.

When her sister finally swung it open, what greeted her was Evelyn covered head to toe in cake, with teary eyes and a bloody nose.

“What the fuck happened to you?!”

She did not answer her, and instead ran inside to bolt straight to her bedroom.

“Hey! Eve, what the hell? You high or some shit?”

Her sister was hot on her heels, following Evelyn as she threw herself haphazardly on the bed to hide underneath the blankets. “ Oh fuck, I wish. I’m dropping out. I’m so dropping out.”

Now, her sister became extremely concerned. “Hey hey hey… what’s goin’ on? Something up at school? Come on, you’re messin’ up the sheets…”

Evelyn pulled the covers roughly from her head to glare at her sister, “I don’t give a flying, ever living fuck about the sheets Candice. I’m ruined. Oh god, everything’s ruined.”

She then proceeded to curl into an even tighter ball, before crying hysterically. She couldn’t get the images of her professor having sex out of her head, in addition to the way she made a fool out of herself like Bobo the clown.

“Okay, okay… I’m sorry. But take a shower so you’re more comfy, okay? We can talk about it over tacos.”

At the mention of tacos, Evelyn peeked once more from underneath the covers, sniffling, “From the place down the street? With extra hot sauce?”

Candice laughed at the instant perkiness, “Yup, only on Taco Tuesdays. Now get up so we can eat.”

Evelyn begrudgingly listened to her sister’s advice, getting up from under the sheets to wash off the cake. It took some effort to detangle the cake from the mess of curls, and her nose stung as the water hit her face under the spray of the shower. With the way it bled, Evelyn hoped it wasn’t broken.

When she was finished, she quickly dressed in an oversized T-shirt and underwear, opting to go without shorts as she sulked her way to the kitchen.

Candice was busy heating up the tacos, and Evelyn sat down at the table to watch her with a blank expression. Even after the shower, she still felt like shit.

Eventually, a plate of steaming hot tacos was placed in front of her. But she couldn’t even work up the appetite for her favorite meal.

“So…” Candice blew on her taco before taking a big bite, “ Spill the tea. What the heck happened?”

Exhaling deeply, Evelyn tried not to cry as she spoke, “You..oh fuck…do you remember, uh…professor Laufeyson?”

“Mmm!” Candice made a noise of recognition, her mouth filled with food. She then spoke with her mouth still full, “The one with the sexy ass accent? And the cheekbones?”

Evelyn made a look of disgust at her sister’s open mouth before replying, “Yeah…him.”

“Oh shit… he is fine as hell. But continue.” Evelyn tried not to break down as she retold her story. But by the end, Candice was a screeching, laughing mess.

“Oh FUCK! Hahahaha! I’d drop the hell out too sis! Phew! You’re fuckin’ with me. Please tell me you’re just fucking with me,”

She was beginning to grow upset, but Candice didn’t care, “Did you see his dick? The hoe he was with?”

“You think I gave a fuck about looking at his dick Candice? And who he was banging the shit out of?”

Her sister gave her a look before she relented, “It’s huge, okay? There. And I don’t know who she was…”

Candice calmed down eventually, and when she did, her tone grew a bit more serious, “So..what’re you actually gonna do? It’s not like you can just drop being a TA..”

Evelyn looked down at her untouched plate, idly picking up a taco, “Yeah… and it’s too late in the semester to drop anything anyway. And I need the credits if I want to graduate on time…”

They both sat in silence, before Evelyn jumped up with renewed determination, “You know what? I’m just gonna confront him. Write a nice letter stating why I can’t be his TA anymore, then leave. Then I won’t see his face anymore. I..I won’t..”

At that point, Evelyn began to cry once more. “ I like him, you know? Fuck, I liked him. Now I can’t look him in the face anymore after this. Please don’t laugh Candice, I already feel like shit…”

“Hey… I’m not laughing at all.” Candice went around the table to pull her sister into an embrace, “ I don’t blame you. You can’t choose who the heart likes, okay? Confront him, then leave. You’ll forget about him eventually.”

“ Okay… I think I’ll skip the meeting tomorrow though. Way too soon.”

That’s what Evelyn told herself when she continued to skip classes for a week.

Whenever she thought about Professor Laufeyson, sordid images would replay in her mind, then she’d put off going to his office.

She was even afraid to check her email because just seeing his name on the subject line would trigger it. The look on his face. The way his hips moved as he thrusted, then she’d imagine it was her instead on his desk…

She was ashamed that her imagination even strayed in that direction. That she felt jealousy towards the woman that had the luck to get fucked on his desk.

And at the thought of that woman… something about her bothered Evelyn. She looked extremely familiar; chocolate brown skin, short curly hair… she just couldn’t put her finger on it. She was around her height as well -

Her sister’s sudden intrusion into her room interrupted her thoughts, “ Eve, you can’t put it off any longer! And you have to be on campus today anyway. Don’t you have midterm critiques?”

“Yeah yeah…I know. Don’t you see I’m dressed?”

Candice looked Evelyn up and down in approval, “Okay, good. Do you have the letter written?”

“Yup,” Evelyn took the folded note from her handbag, handing it to her older sister to read, “What do you think?”

She watched as Candice’s eyes quickly skimmed the paper, “ Nice, looks professional and shit. He better not fail you. Make sure to hand it off in person, send a clear message.”

Evelyn retrieved the paper from her fingers, placing it back inside her purse, “…Yeah. Definitely. In person. Got it.”

Evelyn dreaded the entire day going to his office. She couldn’t concentrate on critiques, and she spent the remainder of the day moving at a snail pace in order to avoid the inevitable. She took her time, doing all sorts of things she’d never normally do just to get out of seeing the professor that plagued her with sinful thoughts.

It was around seven in the evening that Evelyn finally worked up the courage to march towards the Science department, heading straight towards his office. When she finally reached it, however, her nerves took over completely.

She spent the next ten minutes pacing in front of his door, letter in hand as she contemplated what to say in order to salvage her grade. And the more she contemplated, the more her determination fled from her.

You know what… fuck the grade. I’ll just take the damn L.

Evelyn then proceeded to bend down, in an attempt to slip the letter of her withdrawal underneath his door.

Just gonna slip this under, then dip. Easy peasy.

However, the letter refused to slip under, remaining stubbornly on her side of the door.

“What the..get.. get under there…!” Evelyn mumbled to herself in frustration as she got on her knees, still trying in vain to shove the paper underneath the door.

She was about to give up when the door opened abruptly, causing her to fall forward fully on her hands and knees.

A pair of polished Oxford’s came within her line of sight, and Evelyn all but froze in shock at the deep voice that rumbled above her.

“…Evelyn?”

———————

A/N: Hey, let me know what you thought! It’s always encouraging to see comments about the story :) I didn’t expect that you guys would like this fic so much, so I couldn’t leave you hanging for long.

#loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #loki laufeyson #tom hiddleston fanfiction #loki (marvel)#tom hiddleston fandom #loki fic #loki smut

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