#what do you mean you both dropped everything to go meet cus the other said to (even though it was fake?) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wizkiddx · 3 years

Note

hiii!!! omg please please pleasee do a part two of 3 hearts broken cus it fucking slaps miss girl

part 2 to 3 broken hearts!!! ive been so 🥺 at all the lovely comments+interest pt 1 had so thanku all !

summary: serious serious angst again will tom somehow get it back (unlike looking cos boy is a fool)

warnings: again lots of swearing (im British sorry not sorry) / wayyyy too much tea / slating Dom abit (obvs fictional but idk if I like the guy sorry his opinions are :/) / commitment issues

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read part 1 here!!!!

That was three days ago now. Three days since you'd spoken to your boyfrien- well, Tom. It wasn't evident what the situation was.

The typical British weather brought with it the most ironic pathetic fallacy you could ever see. The clouds were dark and glooming, firing angry pellets of rain out as hard as they could. When you had pulled up on the roadside, it had just been a light drizzle but synchronised with your anxiety levels rising - so did the rain. When you finally opened up the car door, you threw your hoodie open with a sigh before running up the pathway to the front door.

It was the same burgundy red that you knew so well, but this time instead of just letting yourself in - you stood in the rain used the brass knocker thing twice. To be honest, you were hoping that no one was home - but in that house, it was pretty unlikely. After 30 seconds of getting drenched in the downpour, you were about to let yourself in with the spare key before the door swung open.

"Oh! Er Y/n?"

"Yeh um hi." You had to shout a bit over the sound of what must now be classified as a storm.

"Toms not-"

"I know. Can I come in?" As awkward and stunted as this conversation was, if you didn't get out of the rain asap you would literally end up drowned.

“Oh er yeh-yeh yeh come in.”

Harry stammered as he held the door open, gesturing for you to enter into the tiled hallway. Gratefully, you followed, throwing your sopping wet hood back down and wiping your feet on the floor.

"Sorry for just showing up, but I left some scripts here. My management are on my arse to read them and-"

"And you waited till Tom left for mum and dads?" The fluffy-haired boy has caught you red-handed; there was no defence, so you didn't even try.

Because yes, you knew on a Friday afternoon when Tom was home he would always, like clockwork, go to his parents just to kick back and watch gogglebox with both of them. It was only natural then that you chose Friday afternoon to come and pick up your stuff.

"I've been waiting in my car for half an hour till I saw him leave." Harry half laughed at that, still the two of you standing opposite each other in the hallway. "Um, do you… do you hate me Harry?"

Clearly, he hadn't quite been expecting your question going by the way his eyes almost bugged out his head.

"No, I-I, of course, I don't… look, I'm home alone so you fancy a cuppa?" Not being able to help the small chuckle, you nodded appreciatively, following Harry through the house.

"Your answer to everything is tea."

Harry had prepared the two mugs in silence as you sat at the table waiting patiently - if nervously too. You didn't miss how Harry had still used your favourite mug, having had to dig through the cupboard to find the weird square-shaped thing. Once done, he rounded the kitchen island and placed it in front of you, which you instantly cradled in two hands - for the hope of warming you up.

"You cold?" Obviously, it was pretty evident that sitting in your rain-soaked hoodie was not cosy at all. "Hang on a sec."

The boy sprung up again, returning moments later with a hoodie in hand, one he offered out to you with a little smile. The issue was that him and Tom shared clothes, so the hoodie he was kindly offering to you also had been worn by Tom before. Which made it hurt a little bit to wear. It was better than sitting soaked through though.

"How have you been then?"

"Not the best, to be honest, but uh… how about you?"

"Being with Tom while he's fighting with you? Oh, it's a barrel of laughs. You might've escaped it, but I haven't." He was trying to lighten the mood, and you appreciated it, offering him a half-smile that didn't really meet your eyes.

"Yeh sorry about that."

"Don't apologise; it doesn't sound like it's your fault Y/n."

That surprised you. Tom, especially when he was in moods like he was when you argued, wasn't one to admit when he was wrong. It was usually how the world was against him and how he was so hard done by. Accepting responsibility was something he hadn't said to you yet - but at least, small steps.

"He say that?"

"Pretty much… doesn't seem like he's angry at you, but-but he's still angry."

"At the world?" You rolled your eyes; this seemed to be the same old Tom through and through. Still immature. Still not with the right mindset.

"At himself." Harry countered, slightly entertained, when he saw the flash of surprise in your face as he sipped his drink. "And me… if I dare to so much as breathe this week."

This time you properly laughed, and Harry joined in too before the room fell back to silence - except the noise of the rain hitting the garden patio slats. You swirled the tea round in your mug, feeling the brunette's eyes on you. He'd always been your fake little brother too, since you'd met the Hollands way back 3 and a half years ago. Tom and yourself were barely adults, which meant the twins were still proper children. Harry had always been the one that understood you. Hollands, by nature, loved humans - loved to talk, to chat, to gossip. But sometimes, doing all that socialising got too much for you, as it did for Harry. He was the only one that seemed to understand social exhaustion. So when those moments had hit, you'd kept each other company in silence.

He got you, sometimes in ways your own boyfriend didn't.

"You know why he got so worked up, right?" You shook your head, looking up curiously. "Dad got under his skin on his birthday zoom thing."

Ah, now that did seem to coincide with the start of Tom's more petulant phase. To be fair, Tom had been asking to move in together for near enough a year now - but it was only in the past month it seemed to be the only thing you'd talk about and obviously only three days since the flight back. Dom's birthday barely a week ago, whilst you and Tom were both filming - except Tom had managed to get a day off where you hadn't. So you hadn't heard this conversation.

"What'd he say?"

"Was talking about how he and mum were settling down at Toms age, joked about how you rejected him, said maybe you were holding out for something better."

"Something better?" Harry sighed, leaning forward onto his elbows.

"He'd seen an article just off a trashy tabloid… it named you Hollywood's golden girl or something, said you could have the pick of any person on the planet…"

Of all the people in the world, why is Tom affected by shit journalism? He knows how much bullshit people write. He knows how it's all made up, exaggerated nonsense. And what he should know, completely and totally, is how much you love him. And if he didn't, was that your fault? Had you done something wrong, something to make him doubt you?

Harry seemed to notice the internal dialogue going on in your head, adding to the point. "It wasn't the article though, it was the fact dad said it."

Hmmm.

You and Dom got on; it wasn't like you hated the possible future father in law or whatever. Just…. you had very different outlooks. As much as Tom prided himself on how' grounded his family keeps him' -to you at least, they aren't entirely at sea level either. They'd never really had any particular struggles in life. They were the definition of middle class, and that's about it. They lived in a posh suburb of London, had all their family still around. It was the perfect family.

And whilst you were in no illusions about how privileged your life was now. It hadn't always been. You'd never had the 'nuclear' family. Instead, only your dad and a string of dodgy and fleeting stepmothers while struggling to make ends meet. So you were just always wary of Dom, of his opinions that so often his boys took for gospel. They always seemed pretty sheltered and close-minded.

And yet, Tom was a grown man.

"I get that, I just… Tom should know that we know more about our relationship than his dad. I mean,… have I done something wrong? Made him think I'm not in this for the long haul?"

"No nonono Y/n he's just… well he's an idiot, isn't he? I don't think he properly understands why you're cautious about moving and everything. He's just an idio- "

Harry was cut off for lightly insulting his brother by the sound of the front door opening, both of your heads swivelling towards the source. You then met Harry's eyes in a panic, to which he replied relatively simply.

"Just talk to each other. For my sake." You would've argued if it weren't for the fact you were so focused on Tom's shuffling around in the entrance hallway - back early from his parents.

"Baz? Where you at? I thought I saw Y/n's car and-"

"Kitchen!!!" Before Tom could say anything else, possibly landing himself in more trouble, Harry interrupted as his chair screeched while standing up. And then Tom was just there. Standing in the doorway, his arms dropping limply to his side as he noticed you. Everything about that moment seemed to freeze, when you locked eyes with him for the first time in three days. It didn't go unnoticed, the way his Adams apple bobbed, the way his eyes widen. The boy looked plain and simply terrified.

It was Harry who broke the silence, after giving you a stern look that said 'stay'. The younger Holland boy walked up to Tom and spoke.

"Try actually talking and actually listening about your problems with each other." And then he was gone, down the hallway and up the stairs.

For a few moments, Tom stayed absolutely stationary, now staring at where Harry had been when speaking to the both of you (but mainly Tom). Long enough to put your sense of unease at an all-time high, ready to make a break for it.

"If you don't want to talk, then I can leav-"

"NO!" Apparently snapping out of it, Tom exclaimed loud enough to make you flinch from your seat. "Sorry! I-I just… I wasn't expecting to… you know, to see you."

"Yeh I just uh- just came to pick up some scripts… Harry cornered me with a tea, though; otherwise, I'd be…."

"Baz thinks the whole world could be fixed with tea."

"that's what I said!" You instinctively responded, forgetting the fact you're supposed to be mad at him, and just for a second falling back into your normal flow.

Tom didn't even try to hide his grin in response, until you quickly corrected your face- then he did too. Turning around to put the kettle on for himself. Because right now, he needed to fix his whole world, and he needed all the help he could get. For a period, the only noise was the sound of the kettle boiling, then the teaspoon clinking against the mug as he stirred - until he padded over, taking the seat across from you.

"So."

"It's been a while," Tom stated the bloody obvious.

"You never called."

"Didn't think you'd want me to."

You thought that the early signs weren't all that auspicious. His ability to read a situation once again failing.

"I wanted you to say something."

"Say what?"

"What do you think Tom?" He replied to the sarcastic tone by sucking in a sharp breath, holding it for a second, before slowly exhaling. As if trying to compose himself, take time to think of a response - a mature move for him.

"Well, I think you want me to say sorry? For being so moody and not waiting for you and for upsetting those kids. And thanks too, for covering for me?"

You just hummed. Waiting for him to continue. Because yes, you did deserve all those things. But you also deserved more. An apology for, oh I don't know, saying he didn't think you loved him? It was a wait that never ended, he had nothing more to add.

"Going by your face, I take it I missed something?"

The bloody cheek of it.

"Theres nothing else? Nothing else at all? …" You gave him that chance, the opportunity but all he could respond with was a shake of his head. "You thought I was fine about you saying that I don't love you?" You hadn't intended on raising your voice, but really you hadn't realised you did till after the fact. To blinded by rage at his ignorance.

"You want to talk about this now?"

"When else Tom?" You sighed, realising he perhaps wasn't ready for this conversation. Maybe he needed more time to think things through, have sense talked into him by various wiser family members. Or maybe, he never would be. That was the worst-case scenario. But also… you're most likely prediction.

He shuffled in his seat, clearing his voice but not saying anything. Not a peep.

"I have spent three years of my life with you. I've had countless nights of too little sleep because that was the only time you could facetime. I've exposed my relationship to the world and people's opinions because you didn't want to hide. All I've done is love you. How could you even say that?" There might've been tears in your eyes, yet you were determined to keep them at bay. You needed to have this out, one way or another, to be clear and cohesive and logical. No time to cry.

"Y/n I know that, I…" He sighed, instinctively reaching for your hand, but you were quicker to pull it away. There was hurt in his eyes, but so there should be. "It just sometimes feels like that's it for you. That yeh you love me but you just want to standstill. That this is as much as it'll ever be."

Your emotions were suddenly uncontainable. Your voice croaked as you whispered, "Have I done something wrong?"

"No love, nonono if that's how you feel then that's okay. But it's something I'm not… shit this is hard." He took a pause to take a sip of his drink, your glazed eyes never leaving his. "I don't think I can stand still anymore. And yeh I was pissy and childish the other day because my dad got under my skin about the whole moving in thing… But these past few days, it just has got me thinking. Because I love you, so much."

This time when he reached out to grab your hand, you actually leaned into it yourself. Not because you were giving in, but because this hurt. This hurt so fucking much that you needed something to ground you, or else god knows. Because the way he was speaking, it sounded so finite.

"I love you too."

"I do know, which is…is why this is so hard." At the very least, Tom had conceded that.

The conversation ceased to silence yet again. The room felt so cold; even Tom/Harry's hoodie was doing nothing to keep you from the endless empty cold that seemed to be coming from within.

"When I re-registered my health card last month, and I made you my emergency contact on it. I-I made you my next of kin on everything actually. I didn't think about it twice. And-and this-"You pulled your phone out of your back pocket, immediately pulling up the app onto the open page. "This is my Pinterest board for our baby's nursery theme. I know-" You paused, to quickly wipe your cheeks clear of the tear tracks that may or may not have been there. "I know it's probably a long way away, but I just love the Scandinavian theme." You laughed at yourself, suddenly embarrassed at your blabbering and quickly pulled up a different app. "And this… this was from the other week when I was helping Y/bf/n start her vows." Hands trembling as you turned the phone around for Tom to see again. "She was finding it really tricky so she said, what would you say to Tom on your wedding, so-so I made this list." You only dared to look at him when you were sure he'd be reading through that note.

It was bizarre because he looked… well, he looked happy. Here you were feeling traumatised, showing things that you'd barely even deeped how committed they were - and he was pleased? Feeling the fire burn once again inside of your chest, you quickly swiped the phone away and back into your pocket. Only then did he look up, eyes widening - presumably at quite how psychotic you looked.

"So don't you dare say that I don't want a future with you."

You said it with such force, there was a pause. Tom letting those words sink deep into his brain. The way his expression flickered minutely gave you hope. You thought he got it. You thought he really understood now.

"But why don't you want to move in then?"

There it was again. He knew why. But he didn't get it. And, probably, he never would.

You were about to crash completely. So you ran. As fast as your legs could carry you, not even aware of your chair crashing to the floor in your wake. You ran out of that house and away from him. Away from who you had thought was the love of your life.

?give tom a final chance w one last part?

feedback is always v v appreciated <3

tom taglist : @lovehollandy12 @hollandlover19 @thefernandasantana @hunnybunimdun @hallecarey1@cedricdiggorysimpp @msmimimerton @hollandfanficlove @pandaxnienke @crossyourpeter @thegirlwiththeimpala @tom-softie @sunwardsss @spiitfiiires @radcloudenthusiast @ladykxxx08

people i think might be interestd in this (sorry if not just let me know and i'll remove the tag!!!): @obiwanownsmyass @wildxwidow @parkersvogue @coffeewithoutcaffeine @tomhollandlol @thefallenbibliophilequote @clumsymandu @hiraethenthusiast @mannien @abrielleholland @evermorehabit @niallberry @greatpizzascissorstaco @runawayolives @annathesillyfriend @letsgotothemoonlight @lovelybarnes

#tom x reader #tom holland fic #tomholland #tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland fluff #tom holland angst #famous!reader #tom holland x famous!reader #tom holland x actress!reader #harry holland

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ssamie · 3 years

Text

off limits.

·˚ ༘⌗ someone had caught langa's attention, and reki being the supportive friend that he is, decided to help langa score a date with them, all without knowing they were joe's precious little sibling.

·˚ ༘⌗ hasegawa langa x gn!reader

·˚ ༘⌗ warnings: langa's shitty flirting, fluff, im using ASH as ur name in S lol sorry if u hate it, long-ish ig

gen masterlist. sk8 masterlist.

"yeah! go ASH!" "damn! they're so cool!" "ASH! come take a picture with us!"

you simply grinned and waved to the crowd as they repeatedly chanted your name and cheered you on. you had just won a beef against your very own brother kojiro, or better known as JOE, and everyone was going crazy.

"well then, i win so you know what to do, right JOE?" you smirked tauntingly as your brother sighed in exasperation "yeah, yeah" he rolled his eyes "im doing laundry for this month as we previously agreed upon" he said

you snickered and waved him goodbye before rushing off to MIYA. you and him were fairly close friends since you were both candidates for japan's national team and often meet up outside of 'S'

"woah.." langa said with a gasp as his eyes followed your form. reki raised a brow in confusion as he followed langa's line of sight.

"langa? whats wrong?" reki asked. "ASH.." langa responded. his eyes were glimmering with amazement and adoration as a bright and sparkly aura surrounded him.

"oh, them?" reki hummed "they're really cool, huh? their tricks were really amazing" he said

langa simply sent you one last glance before reluctantly averting his attention towards reki. "reki! i think.. i think i like ASH" langa admitted with a blush

"eh?! like, like like them? or-" langa cut him off with a frantic nod, making reki scream out in surprise

"eh?! that's awesome! go talk to them then!" reki exclaimed as he tried to push langa towards your direction. "no! i can't!" langa panicked as he tried to plant himself in his spot

"yeah you can!" reki laughed "just go for it!" langa shook his head in distress and tried to run away, although reki caught him by his collar just in time.

"but i don't know what to say! they might find me weird!" langa exclaimed. reki hummed before nodding in agreement. "yeah, you're right. then you'll never get a chance if that happens"

langa paled as a look of dread and fear had dawned upon his features. reki immediately took notice and frantically patted his back to calm him down. "no, no! it's fine! you just gotta practice what to say first so you don't mess it up when you finally talk to them!" reki said

langa nodded with determination. "you're right, reki" he said. "so you'll help me right?" he sent reki an expectant look, making the latter gulp.

"ofcourse!" reki exclaimed "with my help, you'll score a date with them in no time!"

"um-hey, uh how's it-"

"no!! wrong wrong wrong!!" reki exclaimed as he shook his head in disappointment "we've gone over this! we've practiced for a week straight!" he sighed out in exasperation

they were currently at a convenience store parking lot, practicing langa's lines and flirting skills for when he finally musters up the courage to approach you.

"just be cool! be natural! you're too stiff" reki said as he lightly punched langa in the chest. "it's too hard" langa sighed dejectedly "i can't do it"

reki frowned and slapped langa's back, making him yelp. "you can do this! miya said they're really nice so you don't have anything to worry about" reki said in reassurance

"yeah, i guess" langa said with a pout "but im just-"

he yelped as he suddenly collided with another person, his foot had been caught up in his board, causing him to slip and for the other to stumble.

"ah, im so sorry!" you said as you frantically grasped his wrist just before he could fall to the ground. thankfully, you were able to balance yourself and catch him in the process.

"wait-" reki's eyes widened "you're.. ASH?!" you then grinned and set him a wave "hey! you're reki right? miya mentioned you a few times now" you said

"but you probably shouldn't address me as that when we're outside. it's against the rules you know?" you mused with a kind smile "just call me y/n"

"i-i uhm.. you-" langa stammered out. "hm?" you hummed in confusion as you turned around to face a red-faced langa, who seems to be in the brink of combustion at the moment. you followed his eyes down to your hand, which was still holding his wrist, and immediately let go. "oh, sorry dude! you're the rookie right?" you cooed out with a grin

"nice to meet you. i've seen you skate before, you're really good" you complimented him with a suave smirk

"..." langa didn't respond and simply looked at you with sparkling eyes and a blank expression, making reki face-palm in the background

"uh, you alright, langa?" you asked with a chuckle "you look real red right now" you grinned and jokingly elbowed him "it's not cause you like me or anything right?" you teased

"NO!" langa exclaimed. both you and reki blinked in shock while langa simply shook his head with a shaky smile "i mean-no i do! but not like that! but i don't don't like you-"

he suddenly cleared his throat upon receiving a silent signal from reki, making you smile in amusement. "so uh- what's an eye candy like you doin in a place like this?" he asked in a 'flirtatious' tone, though it only came out awkwardly and forced due to his aloof and blunt nature.

you chuckled and shrugged nonchalantly "not much. just shopping" you replied as you showed them the grocery bags filled with ingredients for kojiro's restaurant. "why? wanna take me elsewhere?" you teased

you laughed and lightly nudged him with your hip. " 'm just messing with you! you're too serious, loosen up will you?" you chuckled. "r-right!" langa laughed nervously as he silently marveled at you and your angelic laughter. "seriously," you grinned "you don't have to be so nervous. i don't bite you know?"

"well, unless you want me to" you grinned cheekily as a his face exploded into a bright shade of red. "oh.. is that so.." he stammered out

langa had once again fallen into silence as he settled for ogling at your side profile with his eyes sparkling with adoration. reki sweat dropped and nervously chimed in as to not make things awkward.

"so, y/n-san" reki said with a nervous smile "you're a really cool skater! and you also remind me of someone i know" he said

"oh well then you're probably talking about my brother. i heard you often hang with him in and outside of S" you said

"your brother?" reki and langa mumbled out in confusion. you nodded "yeah it's-" you were cut off by the ringing of your phone, making you shoot the two boys an apologetic smile and a wave goodbye.

"sorry guys, i gotta go. but maybe next time we can hang!" you said as you start to skate away. but just before you could get too far, you stop in your tracks and shoot langa a wink.

"catch you later, snow~" you cooed before finally disappearing from their sight, leaving behind a flustered langa and a surprised reki.

langa blinked one last time before dramatically falling down onto the floor like a melted puddle, his face bright red and a hazy smile grazing his lips.

"LANGA?!?"

"geez, you really need to keep your shit together." reki sighed "y/n was clearly flirting with you and you didn't even make a move." he said

langa frowned and nodded, "yeah, i guess i was just nervous. and it's a little awkward too.." he said. reki deadpanned and slapped him by his nape "dumbass! it's only awkward cus you make it like that!" he exclaimed

langa winced and shuffled away from reki "ouch! yeah, yeah, i'll do better next time.." he muttered with a pout.

they stopped as they arrived at kojiro's restaurant, they were there to meet up with the others for a friendly hangout. "hey guys!!" reki greeted them with a grin

"oh, the slime is here." miya said as he continued to play on his phone, not even looking up once. "oi! im no slime!" reki whined as he tackled miya in a hug, much to the latter's annoyance.

"hm? what's wrong, langa?" kaoru asked with a hum as he took notice of langa, who seemed more out of it that usual.

"oh, langa's thinking of ways on how to flirt with this person he likes!" reki exclaimed with a cheeky grin as he teased his friend. "a crush?" kaoru mused

"you're too young for that" joe said with a laugh "but if you need help, then im definitely the right person to go to" he followed up with a smirk

kaoru simply bonked him in the head with his fan and sighed. "you are definitely the worst person to come to." he said

joe gritted his teeth and glared at his pink haired friend, before huffing and facing langa once more. "so, who exactly is this crush of yours?" he cooed

langa blushed and sheepishly turned his head away, "its no one.." he muttered.

"it's ASH." miya chimed in with a smug grin "aka y/n. those two slimes have been asking me about them for the past week. it's honestly sad." he snickered.

kaoru and kojiro's face paled while langa simply turned into a blushing mess.

"wait-" kaoru gulped "y/n.. y/n as in kojiro's-"

"nii-san!" your voice emitted from the kitchen "i finished putting the groceries in the back room" you said

you walked into the room, untying the apron around your waist as you make your way towards your brother.

only then did you notice all their eyes trained on you, especially langa, who looked like his eyes were about to pop off with how much he'd widened them.

"umm.." you mumbled out sheepishly "is everything alright?" you asked

kojiro slowly walked up to langa with a dark look in his eyes, much to langa's horror. "oi, rookie." kojiro called out, his tone laced with malice

langa yelped and immediately shielded himself behind reki "i can explain.." langa muttered with a nervous smile

"explain what?" kojiro scowled. his muscular arms pulled you towards him, much to your confusion, and held you protectively against his chest.

"that you're flirting around with my baby sibling!!?!" kojiro exclaimed

"NO!" langa denied "well uh- kind of.. but i only did it once and-reki! help me!" he gave reki a look of helplessness.

reki gulped as kojiro's glare had averted towards him. "ah, joe! it's just that-langa here thought y/n-san was very alluring, right?" he mused, to which langa nodded along.

"so uh-we asked miya some things about her.. but miya never told us they was your sibling!!" he exclaimed

miya simply gave them a cat-like grin, smiling and giggling to himself as he innocently looks around the place.

"that doesn't excuse your actions, you punks!" kojiro bonked them both in the head

"let me get this straight.. y/n is off limits. got that?" he glared at langa "no flirting, no dating, no boyfriends."

you scowled and wiggled yourself free from his hold. "what the hell are you talking about?" you crossed your arms over your chest as you look at your brother expectantly.

"wha- y/n you're too young!" kojiro shrieked "im not a kid, you know?" you sweat drop

"you're younger than me, which means you're a kid. so no boyfriends." kojiro huffed "kaoru help me out here!!" he said

kaoru simply sipped on his drink and sighed. "i personally don't have any problems if y/n chooses to date." he says in a calm tone

but it soon changed into a look of malice as he looms over langa's shoulder. "but if you hurt them, i will surely be teaching you a lesson." he muttered in a low tone "alright?"

langa yelped and nodded. "right!" he exclaimed

you sighed and bonked both kaoru and kojiro in the head, pushing them away despite their protests, and approached langa.

"don't mind them." you said "they're just overprotective. most of it were empty threats anyways!" you laughed

langa gulped as he looked at the two over your shoulder with dread. "im pretty sure those threats weren't empty..." he muttered

you laughed and took his hand, flipping it over to reveal his wrist. you then took a pen from your pocket and wrote your number down onto his skin.

"i gotta go, but when you have time, give me a call okay?" you cooed with a smirk

langa watched with sparkling eyes as you gave him a flirty wink before taking your board and walking out of the restaurant.

"bye~" you cooed with a wave before skating away

"i- what?! did my baby sibling just give some guy their number?!" kojiro shrieked in horror

"you act like you don't do the same thing in a daily basis" reki sweat dropped

reki then turned to langa, who was still staring at the digits on his wrist with a blushing face. "so, are you gonna call them?" reki mused

"like hell you will!!" kojiro scowled

"i will!" langa exclaimed with a determined look

"oi! didn't you hear me?!" kojiro snarled "don't call them! they're off limits! oi, listen to me!!" he groaned in aggravation

"joe, im gonna ask them to be my s/o!" langa said with a straight face as he stared at joe with a hopeful glint in his eyes

"NO!!"

"im doing it anyway!"

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danses-with-dogmeat · 3 years

Note

Howdy! I got an ask/react for the Fo4 companions! How would a romanced companion react to Sole (preferably female) doing things to make them feel 'stronger' or 'protective' over her? Some random examples: Sole "can't" open something and has to ask for help/Sole conveniently forgets her overcoat when she knows it's going to be cold out, etc. the little things :) (Extra thing: you don't have to but if you could go into a bit more depth for Deacon and Hancock's response that'd be great :D )

Okay, this was so. much. fun. I took a few... creative liberties with the prompt, but I hope it’s still in the realm of what you were looking for! And, of course, thank you so much for the ask! I hope you like it!

Cait:

Sole pressed a cold cloth to Cait's cheekbone, and she hissed at the pressure of the contact on her swollen cheek.

"Shit, sorry, Cait."

"Eh, I've had worse licks than this."

"I know, but still… this one is definitely my fault."

"It's hardly yer fault, luv, I'm the one who got meself inte this."

"How? I'm the one who started the fight." Sole protested, pulling her hand back so she could look her companion in the eye.

"Maybe, but I'm the one who gave you yer drinkin’ problem, and that's what got us inte the fight in the first place." Sole chuckled at that, shaking her head. The two had had this discussion what seemed like a hundred times, both trying to take the blame for the constant slew of bar fights that they found themselves getting into.

Tonight, it had been four intoxicated men who had decided it was a neat idea to discuss the details of what they’d do to Cait if they could get her drunk enough. While the redhead hadn’t seemed to hear, Sole had briskly made her way over to the group to give her two cents on these ideas of theirs. So, Cait had a point, maybe if Sole hadn’t had quite so much whiskey, she could’ve tried to solve the problem more... verbally. But alas, her confrontation had officially started with her fist landing at the temple of the man nearest to her, effectively knocking him out. And it had ended with Cait hauling Sole to her feet after disposing of the man’s companions.

Cait picked absent-mindedly at the scabs forming on her knuckles as Sole brought the wet rag up to her face once more, dabbing at the blood next to Cait's lip.

"God, how is it that you always end up with the injuries? All I got was a bruise to the cheek, and yet, here you are, looking like a human punching bag."

"I can tell ya that. It's cus it's always me rushin' in te save your arse. Why do you always take on more than ye can handle?" Sole snickered, not knowing if Cait found her own words as amusing as she had.

"Because, I know no matter how many assholes I take on, you'll always be there to save me." Cait made a disgusted sound, rolling her eyes at that, much like Sole thought she would, before letting her emerald gaze meet Sole's eyes.

"I wish you weren't, but yer damn right." Cait said, and Sole felt a little jump in her chest at the sentiment. Cait wasn’t the most tender person in the wasteland, but somehow, she always seemed to know what to say; to Sole, anyway.

The pair sat silently for a bit as Sole finished cleaning up her defender. Wiping down her bloodied hands, and the remainder of the crusted crimson on her face.

"Are ya done fussin yet? I'm tellin’ you, I'm fine. Can we just go te sleep already?"

"One more spot left." She told her, bringing the rag up to her bruised face once more. Sole's eyes fell to Cait's swollen lips as she drew the cool fabric over them, before leaning in to press her mouth softly to Cait's. Sole pulled away, but stayed close enough for Cait to feel her warm, whiskey-tinged breath fan over her as she whispered,

"Thank you for saving me tonight. I really was way in over my head." Sole looked down, embarrassed at her admission, as Cait smiled at her.

"It was my pleasure, luv. As you said, I'll always be there te save yer arse."

Curie:

"You know, you don't have to come to me for something as small as zhis." Curie said as she examined the minor cut on Sole’s arm. “You could patch zhis up yourself easily!”

“Well…” Sole felt heat rise to her cheeks as she searched for an explanation. She knew that every time she came to Curie for something like this, she was taking up the doctor’s precious time, but she couldn’t help herself. What was she supposed to do when Curie insisted on working all day when they were at a settlement? They usually came to settlements to relax, to help make repairs and look into any problems the settlers might be having, but Curie always insisted on doing check-ups for everyone in their vicinity. Sole loved her selflessness and dedication to her work, but… When were they supposed to spend time together? This is what I get for having a workaholic for a girlfriend.

“You know, infection is a big problem out here. I just thought it would be best to seek the help of a professional.”

“Oh, of course, of course. How responsible of you.” Sole bit at her lip as Curie laughed at her. Well, she really has caught onto the whole ‘sarcasm’ thing.

“Fortunately, you do not need to worry about infection in zhis, it iz not deep. But come here, with me.” Curie urged Sole off of the cot she was seated on and brought her to a table at the back of the clinic.

“Wait here, se vous plait.” With that, Curie disappeared around the corner, and Sole stood around, twiddling her thumbs, as she tried to think of an excuse to get Curie off of work early.

“I was going to clean my supplies with zhis, but we can do your arm first.” Curie said as she came around the corner, a bucket of soapy water in-hand.

“Here.” Curie set the bucket onto the table and had Sole hold out her arm as she produced a clean rag from the pocket of her lab coat, and dunked it into the warm water. Sole watched as Curie wrung out the cloth, and brought it to the miniscule wound on her arm.

It was comical, really, the care that Curie took in cleaning the cut that couldn’t have been more than an inch long, and was almost too thin to see. Another rush of heat made its way to Sole’s cheeks as she realized how ridiculous she must seem to the doctor, but Curie made no complaints as she used the other side of the rag to dry off her arm.

“Zhere! It should be all better. I can wrap it for you too, if you’d like.”

“Thanks Curie, you’re a lifesaver. But I don’t think you really need to wrap it.” The synth laughed at her as she threw the rag into a basket and picked up the bucket again.

“Oh, mon dieu, I don’t know about zhat.” She shook her head, a pink tint coming to her pale cheeks at Sole’s flattery as she turned to go into the back of the clinic again.

“Wait!” Sole said, reaching out her “good” arm to stop Curie before she could vanish around the corner once more. Curie looked at her, a questioning expression on her face. Sole stood, her hand still wrapped around Curie’s forearm, utterly at a loss of what to say. I just don’t want you to go. It’ll be another four hours until you get off.

I think you should take a break?

Maybe you should have a half day?

Do you need some help here at the clinic? God, when did I become so damn clingy?

“Hmm.” Curie’s eyes pierced into Sole’s as a knowing look washed over her face. “I zhink I know what it is you want.” Sole just stared ahead, wondering silently if that were true. The doctor set down the bucket yet again, delicately taking a hold of Sole’s “injured” arm once more. Slowly, she brought it upwards, then lowered her head to place her lips gently over the cut. “Iz zhat better?”

Sole giggled, still embarrassed, but definitely glad she had come to interrupt Curie’s work. I guess I can wait a little longer. Maybe make us a nice dinner for tonight...

“Much. Thanks again, Curie.”

“Of course! Anytime, mon amour.”

Danse:

Sole sat at the kitchen table, draining the last of her coffee as her gaze fell to Danse, where he was seated on the steps outside the front door of her Sanctuary home. He stared ahead blankly, brows knitted together above his lusterless eyes as his hands worked to remove a spot of rust from a piece of power armor he had taken off his suit temporarily. Lately, the ex-paladin had been adept in putting on a show for Sole, making her think that he was okay, even after everything that had changed in his life over the course of a few hours. It had been over a week since he had found out about his true identity, and in that time, Sole could tell that he had tried to remain strong. For whom, she wasn’t sure. She thought she had made it clear to him that she didn’t care about his “strength” in these times, she just wanted him to get through them, whatever the means. Yet, he only seemed to don this look of despair and hopelessness whenever he thought she wasn’t looking, and if she tried to bring it up, he would always attempt to change the subject, or he would tell her not to worry and simply say that he was still working on “adjusting.”

She hated when he didn’t talk to her. The seemingly insensitive man was always happy to listen to Sole’s problems and offer what advice he could, often suggesting that she discuss her own issues as a form of therapy. But God forbid she tries to get him to do the same. Sole sighed as she mulled over what to do, and noticed Danse’s head twitch to the side, listening, before his gaze dropped down to focus on his task.

He’s been working on that same spot for almost an hour. If it’s not out yet, I don’t think it ever will be. Sole looked around the room, trying to find something that could possibly serve as a proper distraction for Danse, and her eyes fell to the wooden stereo below the window in the living room. She had left it there because she simply didn’t have the heart to scrap the old thing. Too many good memories surrounded it. Memories of her and Nate, dancing the night away as the records spun on and on playing soft love songs until the sun rose; of her rocking Shaun in her arms as she mosied around the living room, listening to the nursery rhyme vinyls that she had received as gifts at her baby shower... But those memories, they were from another life.

Sole shook her head. This is about him, she thought, not me. I can deal with my shit later. Right now, I need to focus on Danse.

She huffed another sigh, this time a bit louder, and watched as Danse ceased his hand movements and tilted his ear towards her again.

“Is everything alright?” He turned to look at where she sat, and Sole tried to look melancholic.

“It’s just… You know… nevermind, it’s not important.” Just as she assumed he would, Danse stood up and walked inside the house, setting the piece of armor and the rag on the table, and pulled out a chair so he could sit beside her. He looked down at her hands, which rested on top of the table near her empty coffee mug. She could practically see the sweat beading on his forehead as he hesitantly brought one of his large hands to rest over the top of her own. Ever since he found out what he was, he’s been afraid to touch me. So... this is a good sign, at least.

“If something’s wrong, I want to know.” He said as he looked up to meet her gaze, his worried expression matching the concern she was feeling towards him. Sole took a breath to appear as though she was steadying herself.

“It’s just… being in this house. It’s great, I mean, it’s still my home and everything, and I don’t want to go anywhere else, but…” she trailed off, her troubled expression only half-feigned at this point, given the truth behind her words. His eyes never wavered, silently encouraging her to continue.

“Some things are harder to look at than others. And that damn stereo over there just has to be staring straight at me every time I sit down at the table, it’s the hardest one for me to see. It's just, it was a house-warming present from my parents. They gave it to me and Nate after the wedding, and now… well, there are no more records to play on it. They were all ruined, and even if they weren't, I don’t think the thing would work anyway. But every time I see it, it reminds me of the people I’ve lost. My parents… Nate… even Shaun.” Sole didn’t have to fake the tears that came unbidden to her eyes as she recalled the memories of her loved ones, and she knew Danse hadn’t missed a thing when he started rubbing her hand softly with his. They sat there in silence for a moment, as Danse tried to reassure her with his gentle touch.

Then, still remaining silent, Danse stood, reaching his hand forward to brush his thumb over Sole’s cheek, wiping away the tear that had fallen. He then turned towards the living room, but instead of going straight to the stereo, as Sole thought he might, Danse opened the side door that led to the covered driveway. She watched as he doubled back, now approaching the stereo. Sole wasn’t sure what she had expected him to do when she mentioned her problem to him; maybe offer to help her take the thing apart, or try and see if it still worked, or simply give her another perspective on how she should view the piece of 200-year-old furniture. Whatever she expected, it certainly hadn’t been this.

Danse squatted down in front of the large wooden beast of a stereo, wrapped his broad arms almost all the way around it, and stood, lifting the whole damn thing up until he was standing completely upright with the stereo held firmly to his chest. Sole’s mouth hung open as she remained seated at the table, seemingly paralyzed by the shock of what she was witnessing, as Danse sauntered awkwardly towards the exit. A thick vein protruded from his neck as he twisted the piece of furniture to fit through the door, and made his way out into the driveway.

Sole heard a groan from outside, accompanied by the sound of something hard hitting concrete. She stood up, prepared to head outside and see what exactly he’d done with her “problem,” but before she reached the doorway, she heard him call from outside,

“You can’t still see it, can you?”

“Um… no. But Danse, is it-- I mean, are you okay? It took like, four people to bring that thing in when we first moved it to the house.” The brawny ex-soldier appeared in the doorway, his chest still heaving from the effort of wrestling the wooden monster outside. He nodded to her,

“I'm fine." He huffed, "You don’t need to go out there. I’ll take it apart later, if you’d like. Or we can store it somewhere for the time being.” She shook her head at him, a little smile touching her lips. Even after everything he’s been through, he's still always looking out for me. Even with something as small and insignificant as this.

“You know,” she said quietly, “you didn’t have to do that.” Danse looked down at his feet, seemingly searching for something to say in response.

“But thank you.” Sole finished, and his eyes came back up to meet hers. For a moment, she saw a spark return to Danse’s amber eyes as the smallest hint of a smile softened his expression, and Sole felt hope. Hope for him overcoming his grief in this time of crisis, and hope for herself in being able to move on from the memories that had kept her chained to her past for so long. Together, she felt like the two of them could overcome anything.

Deacon:

“Yes. Two please.” Sole said as Takahashi voiced the only question he ever seemed to ask. The robot placed two bowls of scrumptious smelling power noodles in front of her, and she reached for the bag of caps hanging from her belt. As she looked down to count her money, she heard a clatter of bottlecaps hitting the counter beside her.

“Got it covered. Come on, let’s dig in.” Deacon grabbed a bowl in each hand and headed over to a couple of empty seats at the bar.

“I thought you were still trying to stay undercover?" Sole gestured to the Diamond City guard outfit that the spy donned. "Doesn’t it kinda ruin the illusion if you’re seen in public with me?” She said as she followed him over, sealing up her cap purse once again.

“What? You’ve never seen one of these guys at the noodle stand? Cuz I sure have. Just don’t talk to me, and I’ll be good.” Sole shook her head as she took a seat beside him, instantly deciding to ignore his request.

“Hey officer, I’ve got a question.” Sole swirled her chopsticks around the steaming bowl in front of her, before taking a bite.

“Yes, citizen?”

“Hold on--” she said through a mouthful of noodles.

Deacon laughed as he looked at her full mouth,

“Why--” He tried to talk through his bout of chuckling, “Why would you say you’re going to ask me a question and then take a big bite of food? What did you think would happen?”

Deacon thought he heard her tell him to ‘shut up,’ but it was hard to tell, given the noodles that filled her mouth, and the fact that she was nearly choking in her own fit of laughter.

Eventually, she managed to swallow her food successfully, and was finally able to get some words out.

"No, okay, serious question--" Deacon interrupted her with a snap of his fingers,

"Serious answer." Her genuine curiosity forced Sole to ignore him, and continue with her question.

"Tell me, why do you always pay for everything?" She asked.

"Ma'am, I am a law-abiding security officer. I always pay for the products that I intend to consume."

"I said serious, Deacon."

"Hey, shush!" He brought a hand up to Sole's mouth at the mention of his name, "What part of undercover did you not get?" She cocked a brow at his faked panic expression, noting the grin that he was trying to hide, as he lowered his head and turned back to his noodles.

"Like, okay," she continued, expanding on her inquiry, "whenever we go anywhere, you always pay for everything, and it's really odd. I've never met anyone in the wasteland who's done that, everyone's too busy trying to keep themselves alive to worry about paying for others. So, what? Are you, like, rich or something? I mean, c'mon, what's the deal? I have caps on me all the time, you know that, right?"

"Oh?" Sole saw his eyebrows rise above the tops of his sunglasses as he turned to look at her, "you don't think I'm doing this out of the goodness of my cold, black, heart, do you? No, I'm running a tab over here, honey. You owe me, big time." Sole narrowed her eyes at him, her uncertainty keeping her lips sealed.

"You mean, you didn’t know? Look, I don't know what to tell you," Deacon continued, "I thought you knew! Man, I'm glad you found out this way. Now it won't be such a rude awakening when the invoice comes."

Deacon turned back to his noodles, shaking his head at the thought. Sole's gaze bore into him, trying to figure out his level of seriousness. I really wish I was better at this. This is why I believed he was a synth for a month and a half.

"And if I don't have the money… you're not gonna call out a hit on me or anything, are you?"

“Hmm," he brought a hand to his chin, stroking his finger over it animatedly, "surely there must be some way you could pay me back…” He turned to look at her, wiggling his eyebrows as he did so, and she rolled her eyes, looking back to her noodles as she scoffed.

"Hey! What's with the face! I was talking about community service. Y'know, helping the children, and the elderly, all that good stuff. Get your mind out of the gutter, perv. And to think, I was going to have you volunteering at the children's hospital next week."

Sole instantly regretted taking another bite, as she tried desperately to fend off a fit of giggling in an effort to keep from choking again.

"I can't keep up with you Deacon," she said as she swallowed her food. "You're gonna kill me one of these days."

"Eh, don't worry, I can pay for the funeral." Sole raised a hand and shoved him in the shoulder playfully as he grinned at her.

"Okay, really, though. You do know I can pay occasionally, right?"

"Yeah, I know, I'm your partner, remember? I'm pretty much right next to you whenever you get paid.”

"So… then, why do you do it?"

"Do what?" Sole's nostrils flared at his obnoxious question.

"No? Joke didn’t land? Okay. Serious time," he flung his hands in the air as if surrendering, "I read about something… wasn't it, like, customary before the war to pay for stuff for your… friends?" Sole scrunched her eyebrows in thought,

"Friends? Not really. Significant other? Yeah, a little more common." She looked to where Deacon stared down at his noodles.

Is that, is he... blushing?

"But hey, I don't mind if you don't." She finished, tilting her head forward, in an attempt to catch Deacon's eye. She spotted a flushed little grin spread on his face, before he leaned his head back, restoring his cool composure.

"Oopsies, sorry about that, then. But I did warn you, I'm pretty new to this whole friend thing. So… you know, that's on you."

Hancock:

The ghoul lounged comfortably on the couch in the Old State House, idly playing with his combat knife as he waited for Sole to finish readying herself for their outing.

“Ahhh!”

Hancock leapt from his place on the couch at the sound of Sole’s shriek, his combat knife instinctively falling into a position poised for violence.

He ran across the hall, crashing through the door and into the bedroom. Teeth bared and eyes wide, his head lashed from side to side in search of Sole’s assailant. He spotted her, cowering in the corner as she raised a shaky hand to point at the opposite side of the room.

Hancock’s glare followed Sole’s fear-stricken gaze, and he started towards the desk in the corner she had pointed to, but ultimately failed to see what it was causing her distress.

He turned back to her, an eyebrow cocked, as he raised the silent question of what had been the cause of her terror.

“On the desk!” She said, pointing towards it again, this time with greater intensity. Hancock slowly approached the corner of the room, knife still at the ready, as his eyes continued to search for any sign of… well, anything, really. An exasperated smile spread across his lips as his eyes fell to your attacker. A small, brown, spider picked its way through the objects littering the top of the desk, and Hancock had to hold back a laugh.

“This is what had you all riled up? Oh, sweetheart, he’s just a little spider. C’mon now, he won’t hurt ya.”

“You don't know that.” She said firmly, her round eyes still trained on the desk. It had sounded like a joke, but her expression remained serious.

“Alright, you want me to get rid of him for you?” She nodded her head vigorously, and he chuckled as he turned his attention to the unsuspecting arachnid. He watched as it delicately stepped over a series of writing utensils, and Hancock frowned. Bringing his knife up to the top of the desk, he rested the flat of his blade directly in the spider’s path,

“That’s it, up you go, little guy.” He said quietly, as it stepped onto his steel vessel. Hancock twisted the knife around in his grip as the spider crawled around it, and made his way to the balcony. Once outside, he tipped his knife to the railing, encouraging the spider to crawl off the tip of the blade. Once the spider was safely making its way along the top of the railing, Hancock turned back towards the doorway.

“There,” he said, stepping back inside, “Now he can’t hurt ya, he’s all the way out there.”

“You… you didn’t kill it?” She asked, tentatively standing up.

“Nah, we only hurt the ones who hurt somebody else first, remember?”

“You don’t know that he didn’t hurt anybody.” She mumbled as Hancock sauntered over to her.

“Aw, give him a chance, maybe he can change, y’know? He doesn't really seem like the troublemaking type to me, anyhow.” He brought his hands to your waist, a smug expression playing on his face.

“Oh yeah, just like the way you always tell people you’ve changed?” She said, sliding her hands up his chest to rest them on his shoulders. “Way I see it, you’re still just as bad an influence on me as when I met you.” She said, a playful glint dancing in her eyes.

“Hmm, maybe you’re right, sunshine. Maybe I can't change any more. Maybe it's just my nature to be a bad influence on you.” He said quietly, a wolfish grin spreading across his face as he leaned into her.

“Huh, maybe so. But bad influence or not," she pulled away from him slightly, to look up into his smoky eyes, "you really did save me back there. And, I know it seems silly... but I am grateful." His eyes softened at her little confession and, though he knew this too was silly, he couldn’t help but feel a swell in his chest at the thought of "saving" her.

“And I’ll always be here to save you... from any spiders we happen to come across.” He pecked her lips tenderly, their close proximity practically forcing his mouth to hers. He should’ve known better, once he had a taste, he couldn’t get enough of her.

“Even though,” He continued, as he pressed a kiss to her nose, “I’ve seen you,” then to her right cheek, “take down,” now her left, “deathclaws,” another to her jaw, “single handedly,” and now down to her neck, “I’ll be sure to handle all the unruly arachnids.” He whispered into the crook of her neck, before moving upwards again and pressing one more kiss to her forehead. He watched, grinning like an idiot in love, as a crimson flush crept up her cheeks. He wasn’t sure if it was from the embarrassment she felt regarding her phobia, or from the heat of his lips on her skin, but he decided it didn’t matter. Either way, he found it irresistibly adorable, and with that, he set his sights on her lips once more.

MacCready:

MacCready sat on the floor, legs crossed, as he counted his ammunition cartridges. There were four of the .308, six of the .50, ten of the 10mm, and a few of the .38. There certainly wasn’t as much as he’d hoped there’d be, but he wasn't worried. Sole always seemed to have ammo to spare, and she wasn't stingy with it like he was. It was yet another perk to being with her.

He gathered his full magazines together near the ammo bag resting beside him, so he could begin placing them inside in preparation for their next outing.

"How are you doing over there, babe?" He asked as he stored the outlying bullets in little bags.

"I think... you know what, nevermind. I'm good." MacCready ceased his action, turning to look at where Sole knelt on the carpet of her Diamond City home. A pile of bullets and empty magazines surrounded her, the stack of seemingly full cartridges was pitifully small compared to his own.

"You, ah, need some help?"

"... No.”

"Mmhm, okay.” he narrowed his eyes at her suspiciously, but she wouldn’t look up at him.

“Well,” he continued, “I'm going to put my full mags in the ammo bag, why don't I grab yours too." The sniper stood up, and made his way over to her, bending down to grab the cartridges that looked full.

"Wait! No, these, um, these ones aren't done yet." MacCready's eyebrows furrowed, but the shadow of a smile began to spread to his lips as he realized what was going on.

"So," he said, kneeling down so he could see her pretty little embarrassed face. "You haven't finished loading any of them?"

“No." She said quietly, refusing to meet his gaze. MacCready lowered his head so that he was looking up at her as her eyes stayed fixed on the floor. A lock of hair was draped over her forehead, obstructing his view. He reached a hand up and gently pushed it behind her ear, leaning in to give her nose a small peck with his lips.

"You want some help?" He said as Sole raised her gaze to meet his, a small blush forming on her cheeks. She didn't say anything, only nodded yes.

"Alright, you know, you could’ve just asked. I might have said ‘no’ the first time, but you know me, I eventually would’ve come around." MacCready said as he set to work with the magazines that had appeared full, but in reality, only housed half of the amount of ammunition that they could fit within them. He snickered in understanding, it really was the second half of bullets that was hard to load.

"Thank you, sweetie. You’re just so much better at it than I am." She said as she watched his practiced fingers make quick work of what probably would've taken her another hour.

"Of course... but, you are paying me for this, right?"

"Ohh, I think we might be able to work something out." She said, a sly grin playing at her lips.

He just chuckled at her words, but she could've sworn his fingers starting moving a whole lot faster at her suggestive phrasing.

Nick:

“Tell me, why is this now a regular part of my job duties?" Ellie asked as she finished sewing up yet another tear in Nick's trench coat. "You know you're just going to end up with more holes in this coat every time you leave the office, and I don't seem to recall you ever caring about this old thing's appearance before…" she trailed off.

Nick knew that Ellie was fishing for answers. One specific one in particular, but he liked the ambiguity of the situation. It was this little game he and his secretary would play. He would leave clues here and there that pointed to the nature of his and Sole's relationship and wait to see if Ellie would say anything. All while she continued to try and force the truth from him verbally. He wasn't going to lose this round.

"What? A private detective can't keep up appearances for his clients? I think it's just good for business."

"I think it's a load of bologna. You know we gave Sole her own trench coat after she saved you, right? She could just wear her own, rather than steal yours every time you two go out on a case."

"What kinda fun would that be? I don't mind it, it's not like I get cold anyway. And the poor little lady never knows how long we're going to be gone, so I don't think it's her fault when we're out after dark and she wants to wear it."

Ellie rolled her eyes and let out an exasperated sigh as she poked the needle back through the worn, beige fabric once again.

"She's got you so tightly wound around her finger, it's a wonder she doesn't call you 'Jared'."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I don't know, it’s something I’ve read about, I guess it was a ring shop, or a jewelry company, or something before the war. I thought it sounded clever. Just humor me, won't you?"

The synth just shook his head, uttering a low chuckle as he watched Ellie tighten the thread, forcing the last hole closed.

"There." She said, tying up the last bit of string left over, before cutting off the excess. "It's done."

"Perfect, thanks a million, doll. I'll see you soon, I've just gotta head out for a--"

"Date?" She finished the sentence for him suggestively, raising her eyebrows in question.

"A case. We're going to head out on a case, Ellie."

"Uh huh, sure. Well, here," she handed him back the coat, "now she doesn't need to worry about the cold air seeping in through all those holes. Let me know if you want me to insulate the damn thing when winter rolls around."

Valentine smiled, an uncharacteristically goofy smile, at Ellie's words. He was so obvious, why didn't he just come clean already?

"Will do, I’m sure she’ll enjoy that. Thanks again, Ellie. You're the best."

"And don't you forget it." She said, turning back to the mound of paperwork still on her desk beside her sewing supplies.

“Ah well, I’ll get him to admit to it one of these days.” Ellie mumbled as she began sorting through the files in front of her.

Piper:

Piper looked up at Scarlet from the table in the corner of the Dugout Inn,

"Yes, so I think we'll both have a nuka cola to start off. Then I'll do the crispy squirrel bits, and she'll have the Salisbury steak." Piper pointed her finger to Sole, who was busy looking down at the table, before making a last-minute decision, "Aaand you'd better bring some of those snack cakes at the end, too."

"Hm, as usual." Scarlet chuckled at that as her pen scribbled across the notepad in her hand.

"But that sounds good, you two. I'll have that out in just a minute." The waitress grabbed their menus, Sole reaching up to hand it to her with a smile on her face before turning to peer at her partner from across the table. She waited for Scarlet to disappear around the corner to the kitchen before speaking.

"You really don't find it annoying?" She asked.

"What?" Piper loosened the scarf around her neck as she looked questioningly at Sole.

"I know that I ask you to order for me whenever we go out to eat, or drink, and it's gotta be getting a little old at this point, right?"

"No, not at all, Blue!" Piper said as she took her hat off and placed it on the table, mussing her hair a bit with one hand. "This reporter actually finds it to be pret-ty endearing. It's like, the one thing you can't do. You’re good at, like, everything else, but this I get to help you with. It's a welcome change." Piper's hands dropped to the top of the table as she began absent-mindedly fiddling with her silverware. But her eyes stayed on the woman across the table as Sole smiled at her, still appearing a little embarrassed.

"I don't know why I can't do it," Sole tried to explain, "I've just never been able to order for myself, even before the war. Just one of those bizarre anxiety things, I guess."

"Well, like I said, I don’t mind at all. In fact, I think it's cute."

Preston:

Sole approached her Lieutenant, shaking her head at him, and she saw him sigh.

“No, the river just keeps going until it reaches a ravine." She told him, "And it’s too steep to climb down. Any luck on your end?”

“Hmm, not really. It's a little more shallow upstream, but it’s still about ten feet wide.”

“Damn.” She said, “We need to get across.” A settlement had sent a distress call across radio freedom almost an hour ago, if Sole and Preston took any longer, they might be too late.

“I guess we’ll just have to go for it.” She said, her face painting a picture of clear disgust at the thought of wading through the murky water.

“Well, let’s at least head upstream a bit. To the shallow part.”

“Okay.” Sole said begrudgingly, her footsteps unconsciously heavy as she followed her companion to the shallow part. Not shallow enough, I bet.

And she was right. As the pair arrived, Preston turned to Sole to gauge her reaction, noticing the way her nose wrinkled at the sight of the brown, swirling water.

Preston heaved a sigh, and started forward. Before he reached the waterline, he turned to see Sole still standing back, feet seemingly glued to the muddy ground. He couldn’t help but smile sympathetically at her, eyebrows creasing upwards as he watched her eyes look longingly at the far shore.

“Come here.” He said.

“I know, I know. Just start going, I’ll follow.” Preston chuckled at the exasperation in her voice. Instead of repeating his command, he simply walked over to her as her eyes remained locked on the other side of the river, when he reached her, he slowly pressed his hand to the small of her back.

“Hey, what are you--?” Before Sole could finish her question, Preston had scooped her up into his arms, bridal style. She let out a squeak of surprise, and he couldn’t keep himself from grinning.

“Is this okay? He asked, the brim of his hat pressing against Sole’s forehead as he looked at her.

“A warning would’ve been nice.” Preston laughed, shaking his head as he adjusted his grip on her, ensuring she was secure before making his way towards the river.

“Hold onto me.” He said, and Sole wrapped her arms tightly around his shoulders.

“Ready?” Sole nodded to him, and Preston took a step forward, frigid water seeping in through his boots as he waded in.

“Wait, are you sure you want to do this?” She said, her eyes trained on the river as it raised up to Preston’s knees.

“I might be wrong, General, but I think I already am.” He said, the amusement in his voice faint as he gritted his teeth against the cold.

She felt his body shutter as he continued forward, the water reaching up almost to his waist, as he held Sole up higher to ensure it wouldn’t reach her. She let out a small sigh of relief as they reached the end of the channel. The water became more shallow, and Preston quickened his pace with each step that brought him closer to their destination.

Once completely out of the water, and past the muddy shoreline, Preston finally set Sole down gently. As her feet touched the ground, Sole kept her arms wound about Preston’s neck.

“Thank you, love.” She said, her voice soft as she addressed him as her partner rather than her Lieutenant.

“It was my pleasure, m’lady.” He said, briefly removing his hat from his head as he did so. Sole smiled at him warmly, but detected the faint chattering of his teeth, and when she looked down, she couldn’t help but notice the goosebumps littering his skin.

“Oh, Preston…” Sole said as she pressed herself to him, rubbing her hands against his back and arms quickly, in an attempt to warm him with her friction. She felt hot air wash over her neck as he released a shaky breath of relief, leaning into her touch. The pair stood there for a moment, Preston syphoning off Sole’s warmth as she tried to repay him for his earlier act of kindness. Her hands slowed from her vigorous rubbing to a more tender sort of touch, before Preston’s head shot up.

“Shit, Sole, the settlement! We’ve got to move!”

X6-88:

This had become a common routine of theirs, and X6 wasn’t entirely sure how to feel about it. Every time they were in Sole’s Diamond City home, she would insist on making dinner for the two of them. That, X6 didn’t mind too much; although, after consuming nothing but food supplements in the Institute for so long, it did take some getting used to. But eating the food wasn’t the issue, it was the making of it that had him perplexed.

As far as he knew, Sole had been the one to install the shelves in her kitchen; and yet, every time she was in need of a spice of some sort, or a condiment, or one of her dishes, she would ask X6 for assistance, given that the shelves were apparently too high for her to reach. Why Sole continued to store her items on the too-tall shelves, he couldn’t begin to guess. But here she went again, asking him to reach for the box of blamco mac n’ cheese on the top shelf, the highest one, one that he could barely even reach. X6 decided it was time to voice his confusion.

“Ma’am?”

“Yes?” She asked distractedly as she focused on the strength of the flame burning on her stove.

“Why do you use these shelves?”

“What else would I use, silly?” X6 scrunched up his face at that, trying to hold back a verbal scoff at her wording.

“Would you rather I just store everything on the floor?”

“Well, no. That would… hardly be sanitary.” He wasn’t sure if she was joking with him or not. Did she think he was joking with her?

“Why do you ask, X?” She grabbed the box from his hand as he extended it towards her, and began tearing at the top of it with her finger.

“Well, it seems nonsensical to me, for you to continue placing all of your items out of your reach. What happens if I’m not here?” Sole placed a saucepan filled with water over the stove and turned to look at him.

“But you are here.” she said, shrugging, “What? Don’t you like helping me out in the kitchen?”

X6 blinked. What the hell did this have to do with what he liked?

“Well… I don’t dislike it. I’m just having trouble with-- I don’t-- I just... do you want me to fix the shelves so they are the right height for you?”

“No, I like them the way they are.”

X6 felt his eye twitch from beneath his shades. Confusion built up inside him, making the courser feel as though he might explode.

“Ma’am--” His voice faltered as he realized he didn’t know what else to say.

“I know they’re not practical, X. But you can reach them, and I like that about them. Even when I’m here alone, the fact that I can’t make dinner without you makes me smile.” X6 furrowed his eyebrows. That explanation didn’t help at all.

“Don’t you get hungry?”

“I'm not completely helpless, you know, I can usually figure something out.” She attempted to look annoyed at his question, but her grin gave her away. X6 narrowed his eyes at her, still not completely satisfied with the way the conversation had gone. He was still just as confused as he was before.

“Huh.” He said, mulling over all she had said on the subject. “Perhaps... in that case, we should ensure that I am by your side for any missions near Diamond City. That way, I can be sure the future director of the Institute doesn’t go hungry.”

“Well, if you think that’s necessary, who am I to argue?” The left side of X6’s lip tilted upwards in an expression of amusement, and Sole openly smiled at him, laughing a little to herself as she turned her attention back to the boiling water on the stove.

“Can you hand me the pepper mill? Second shelf.”

“I know which shelf. But yes, I can.” He said, turning around to grab it, as Sole continued grinning to herself.

Now I just have to make sure he never looks under my bed. Sole thought. If X6 ever found the step stool she had hidden there, what would happen to her kitchen helper?

354 notes · View notes

uzumaki-rebellion · 3 years

Text

“Black Boys Bloom Thorns First: Volume 3, Chp. 9″

youtube

"Black Butterfly, sail across the waters Tell your sons and daughters what the struggle brings Black Butterfly, set the skies on fire Rise up even higher So the ageless winds of time can catch your wings"

Deniece Williams – "Black Butterfly"

Disa spotted Pamela in the middle of the floor.

The moment the beat hit her ears, Pamela threw her head back and tossed her ass in a circle letting Disa know it was good to go.

The beginning was always the difficult part of her sets when she was trying to create a montage of feelings through sound. There were peaks and valleys she had to hit in order to hold the audience hostage. She almost lost it halfway through Zana High Life when the host shouted out DJ Geechee Dan standing on the side of the stage. Disa had been trying to find him up in the VIP section and he was right there, less than twenty feet from her watching her cut up a live mix.

It was Erik that saved her from bumbling her set as she focused on him moving instead of Geechie Dan being so near her. He came out of nowhere and she had no idea he could dance so well. The boy showed out and Pamela tried to keep up. It brought a smile to her lips to see him grab her homegirl and dance Pamela around. No one had ever been able to hang with her, and Erik pushed the woman to go all out.

Disa reeled everyone back in when she let Erik's voice quote "Beloved" over the music. He matched the tone of the syncopated beats. It sounded romantic. Dreamy. She took a respite and let the mix play as she watched him dance. So fluid. Like water. She knew he practiced capoeira and decided to go off script and freestyle her set. Dragging down some berimabau sounds, she cued up a Brazilian jam and dropped it on top of her own drumming in time to the stringed instrument. It struck like a thunderbolt on Erik and it shocked her to see him backflip and hold his body in a handstand as his legs moved in slow motion before he crouched on the floor low and swayed to the ancient sounds.

The boy was bad.

Loose hips and expressive arm movement fooled everyone into thinking he was just jamming instead of showing off a martial art. Disa was in awe and almost missed her next transition cue because she was so mesmerized by him. How could that brainy, standoffish, and arrogant man-child turn into a snake-hipped God of the dance?

Pamela jumped back on him and Disa played with them both by skipping her planned closing and taking the two of them to the Black Queer spaces she roamed with Pamela and friends. Punching up the voice of the icon Selvin Mizrahi, aka MC Debra, Disa brought in ballroom beats.

"That shouldn't have been the question," echoed about the space and Pamela stopped dancing with Erik and pointed a finger at Disa.

"Don't play with me, bitch!" Pamela shouted before she dropped to the floor and duck walked like the diva she was. This attracted their other homegirl Tatum who dipped several times making Yamilet stand aside with weak knees. Pamela played with Tatum in a simulated ballroom battle over Erik's attention until Tatum pushed Pamela aside and twirled around the youngster capturing his attention. The audience roared when Erik dropped into his own duck walk challenging Tatum. Erik's friends howled and the entire venue lost it when he dipped three times in front of Tatum making her storm off in a pretend huff as he duck walked after her before spinning on his back and shoulders. He grabbed Tatum's hand and ground on her ass with the closing notes of Disa's set. Loud whistles and claps erupted, and she waved to the crowd before the lights switched over to the next DJ who looked frightened at the prospect of following up after her.

Tatum rushed over to her swiping back long strands of crimped and twisty hair.

"Girl, your lil man was out here giving what he was supposed to give! Is he…?"

"Erik? No, I don't believe so."

"He was putting that thang on me like he wanted a piece of the good, Sis. He grab on me again like that and I'll let him get a taste."

Tatum's dark brown eyes were glossy from drinking and she followed Disa as she carried her crate of vinyl to the green room.

"He's not the type to turn mean if he knows….y'now…" Tatum said.

"He's very open. I don't think he'd trip to know you're Trans."

"Good. Cuz he could get it from any of these women out here. Did you see him move? I know Pamela is butt hurt that she was not the center of the dance universe tonight."

Tatum watched her tuck her crate under a covered table and push them far back with her jacket on top of it with her computer bag.

"I liked how you closed out your set."

"People liked it, yeah?"

"Yeah, but I worry cuz you know how these niggas be wildin' if you bring in the Fam in hetero spaces. Everybody turns into homophobe and kills the vibe for everybody."

Disa's cell buzzed. She pulled it from her back pocket.

"Yamilet and them. She's out by the car now."

Disa dragged her crate back out and Tatum carried her computer bag for her. They headed outside to the parking lot. Yamilet was there with Pamela, and Essie. She opened her trunk and Disa dumped her stuff. The women gave her joyous hugs and high fives before they traipsed back in to catch the other DJs.

Erik ran up to her breathless.

"Hey! I thought you were leaving!"

Disa patted his arm.

"No, just putting my gear away. Erik, these are my friends…"

She introduced everyone, and Erik shook their hands. Tatum and Pamela gave him big hugs and Yamilet snapped her fingers at him.

"Geechie… Hey! Geechie Dan, hold up!" Erik shouted.

Disa's heart dropped in her belly. Erik shook her idol's hand and brought him over to Disa.

"This is Disa Abdullah-Woods, your biggest fan," Erik said.

"My dear, sweet, woman, you are a master class of gifts. That set was-"

Geechie Dan kissed his fingers to end his praise.

Disa held out a trembling hand to him.

"No, that's not gonna do, Buttafly. Bring it in," he said opening his arms wide.

Disa burst into tears.

"Hey, I'm nobody to cry over," he whispered.

Geechie Dan gave Disa a big hug, and she stood there like a blubbering baby. The years that she spent practicing what she would say to the man if she ever met him in person went straight out the window. She used to laugh at people who became overly emotional meeting celebrities, but now she totally understood the overwhelming feeling that surged through her.

She wiped her eyes and Erik rubbed her back with gentle circles.

"I've been a fan since I was a little kid," she stammered out.

"Erik here told me. I told him how much I enjoyed his dancing and he just went in about you."

A crowd surrounded Geechie Dan, but he ignored them, his twinkling eyes on her.

"It has been a long time since I've seen a DJ create a set with so much intention behind it. You have something special in you, young lady. Never lose that gift."

Disa's mouth seemed to lose all ability to work. All the things she wanted to say stalled in her throat. He was there in the flesh. Standing in front of her.

"Disa has a radio show you should go on," Erik suggested.

"Oh yeah? Give me your number. I'll call you up and we can chop it up."

Geechie Dan pulled out his cell and Disa gave him her number, her voice a soft shell of its usual assertive tone.

"When I get some free time, I'll hit you up. Excuse me, they want me back up on stage. Amazing set, Disa. Keep spinning!"

The man shook her hand with both of his and his entourage and promoters swept him away.

"She's still in shock," Yamilet said waving her hand in Disa's face.

Erik's bright smile attracted her attention. Had he not spoken to the man, Disa may very well have missed her opportunity to meet him, let alone remember to ask the man for a radio interview. Her mind floated with the surreal nature of the experience. Her cell buzzed.

Here's my number. I'll be in New York in a few weeks, would be open to an in-person radio interview.

Geechee Dan's personal cell number. She had it. In her palm.

Disa reached out and grabbed Erik's shoulders. She planted a big fat kiss on his lips.

"Damn, what was that for?" he said.

"Being here," she said.

He wiped his lips and smiled.

"Erik…"

Chloe slinked up and slipped her arm in Erik's, tugging him towards the dance floor. Disa watched him enter the thick crowd of swaying bodies to dance once more.

###

Her night was a dreamy success.

Disa stayed in a popular hotel with her friends, and they hung out in the bar. Erik strolled into the lobby with his friends. In a tipsy stupor, Disa walked over to him with a fresh drink in her hand. "Didn't know you were staying here too," she said.

He took the drink from her and sipped it down.

"Hey… you can't drink this here out in the open, you're underage!"

She snatched it away from his lips.

"Nah, it's after midnight… I'm twenty-one now," he said.

"Oh, shit. It's your birthday? Today?"

"Yep."

"Happy Birthday, Erik!"

She hugged him tight and gave him the glass of liquor.

"Enjoy," she said.

"What room are we in?" Jace asked.

Erik's dorm companion looked sleepy along with two other guys.

"301," Erik said handing Jace a key card.

Disa's friends called for her to return to the bar counter.

"Come celebrate with us," she said pointing to her group.

"I'm beat, to be honest. Thanks for asking me though."

"If you change your mind, we'll be down here."

"Good to know."

"Thanks for everything, Erik. Tonight was really special and meant a lot to me. Especially with you hooking me up with Geechie Dan."

"Glad to make your dream come true."

His eyes penetrated hers.

"Okay grown-ass man, go to bed," she said pushing on his arm playfully.

"You're drunk," he teased.

"A happy one at that," she said stumbling off to join her girls.

Three more drinks later, after a heated discussion with a group of men who hovered around them trying to interject their unwanted opinions about dating, Disa leaned over the bar counter and asked for a special birthday cocktail for Erik. She went to the lobby restroom, collected the drink afterward, and excused herself from her friends. She took the elevator to the third floor and found Erik's room. The fruity exotic drink had a lot of strong liquor in it. Knocking on the door, she waited for someone to answer. She could hear a tv on and talking going on inside.

Kelvin, a cute nerdy string bean answered the door.

"Is Erik up?" she asked.

Kelvin's eyes nearly popped out looking at her.

"You were so good," he yelped.

"Thank you… um… Erik?"

"He's not here."

"Not here? Did he go out?"

"No, he's in that room," Kelvin said pointing across the hall to room 302.

"Thanks," she said.

Kelvin closed the door and Disa did a one-eighty and rapped her knuckles on the new door. She toyed with the blue umbrella and pineapple garnish on his drink. Erik answered. Shirtless and wearing tight gray boxers.

"Hey," she said.

"Um… Hi. 'sup?"

"Birthday drink. A proper one."

She thrust it out to him and tried to brush past him, but he held an arm up in the door jamb blocking her. Her brain failed to register that he didn't want her inside, and she bumped against him, her breasts touching his chest.

"I can't come in?"

"I have someone here," he said.

Her eyes cut behind him. Chloe was draped in nothing but a sheet, the tops of her breasts threatening to spill over her arm that clutched the covers.

"Oh, snap. I'm sorry. I thought you were staying with the guys over there. Didn't realize you had your own room. Here, enjoy the drink," she said.

Erik took the bulbous glass, and his expression was full of embarrassment. He stepped into the hall and closed the door behind him. Disa stepped back from him and fumbled with her hands.

"Handle your business. It's time for me to get to bed myself… get some sleep. Have fun!"

She tried to sound jovial, but something in the back of her throat made her voice accusatory. As if she caught him doing something behind her back. For months she thought of Erik as her little pet. He was her loyal puppy, and she had to admit she enjoyed all the fawning he did over her. But he was also a young man with needs. She tried not to look at the package that was hanging in his underwear. The outline of it was showing off. God forbid if he was a grower too.

"Me and Chloe kinda got this thing going on now…"

"New girlfriend and good birthday sex is a blessing. Night Erik."

She turned to leave and pivoted back to him.

"Can I put on a birthday dinner for you and your family? I know you're planning on eating at Toulouse, but I would love to host your birthday party at my place."

"That's too much Disa. I have a lot of people coming in from all over."

"How many?"

"Fifteen—"

"Pfft, boy, you've been to my dinner parties, you know how I get down. Fifteen is nothing for me."

"The cost alone will be crazy—"

"Let me handle that. You deserve a special day. You made my night amazing, let me show my appreciation. What would you like to eat?"

Erik's eyes grew thoughtful, they dropped to look at his drink.

"I love your Confit de Canard,"

"Aw, I see. I finally got you to give in to duck meat."

"It's gonna be hella expensive."

"Don't worry about it. Let's say six sharp on Saturday, three courses and Turkish coffee with a birthday cake."

His eyes lit up.

"I'll let my people know."

"Tell them to dress up. I'll plan a splendid evening with games afterward."

Erik grabbed her hand and pulled her in close.

"Thank you," he said.

"Better get back to Chloe. Don't want her chewing my head off for keeping all of this out of the bed."

She smirked at him and wandered down the hall.

###

Chloe had a frown n her face when Erik walked back into the hotel room.

"What did she want?"

"Birthday gift," he said holding up the fancy drink.

He sipped it, and the liquor was too strong for his tastes. It would knock him out before he had a chance to smash Chloe. He put the glass on the nightstand and pulled off his boxers. His dick was already at half-mast.

"Why is your dick like that already?"

Chloe sat up, and the frown on her face deepened.

"Looking at you gets me excited," he countered.

Hopping into the bed, he pulled back the sheets and swiped her nipples with his tongue.

"You're attracted to her."

"Disa? That's my homegirl—"

"Everyone knows you have a crush on her. You turn into a puddle whenever she's around."

Chloe folded her arms over her breasts blocking his access.

"If your dick is getting hard for her, maybe you should get some birthday sex from her instead!"

"Chloe. Stop trippin'. I'm giving this dick to you."

He rubbed the hardening length against her thigh. She slapped it.

"Wanna play rough?" he said.

"Was your dick hard for that Trans chick too?"

"What?"

"Disa's friend. The one with the long fluffy hair. You didn't know?"

"No. She fine as fuck though."

"You'd fuck a Trans woman?"

There was disgust on her face.

Erik sat up. He'd been around Trans women and Trans men all his life, especially in Brazil. He had a Trans play uncle in Sao Paulo who used to babysit him and his play cousin Marisol.

"A woman is a woman. She got titties I can play with and a hole I can fuck, I don't see a problem—"

"Ohmigod! You really would fuck her."

"That ass was amazing."

"I can't believe you're serious!"

"Are you a queerphobe? Cuz if you are, that's not gonna work for me."

"No… I just… I can't picture you being like that."

"Like what?"

"Accepting. You're like a man's man—"

"A Transphobe? I wasn't raised like that. My mother would never let me treat people like shit who didn't deserve it."

Chloe stared down at her hands.

"I'm glad to hear that, actually."

"Yeah? Why?"

Her eyes welled up.

"My sister… she's transitioning… he's becoming my brother and I worry about him going up against guys like you."

"Guys like me?"

"Y'know overly masculine. He's coming to visit me in a few weeks and I wanted you to meet him since he's interested in capoeira."

Her eyes met his.

"I didn't mean to be accusatory about Disa's friend. She's beautiful. Prettier than me."

"You're the prettiest woman in this room right now."

She slapped his hand and smiled.

"But you do like Disa. Right?"

"She's my friend. I had a big crush on her when I first arrived on campus, but now… she's like a mentor… a big sister. We're close and she teaches all kinds of cool stuff. I probably do act all goofy when I'm around her—"

"It's cute… really. I just… let's forget about it."

He kissed her. With guilt. Disa meant more to him than just a big sister or a mentor. She was the ultimate woman. But she would never see him as a man.

Chloe wrapped her lips around his dick and rolled a condom on his shaft after she plumped him up to complete hardness. She presented her backside to him and he sank into her walls and pumped, enjoying her soft sighs and cries of passion. He took off the condom much later as she allowed him to fuck her raw in the ass and dump a hot load in her anal walls. She kept his mind off of Disa and those lush breasts that truly made his dick thicken and visibly tell Chloe the truth. Disa was his dream girl. Everyone could see it.

###

The large package arrived at Disa's house the day before Erik's birthday party. She called him on his phone to tell them that a big box with a D.C. return address and B. Dunduza written in black block letters was sitting in her living room.

He drove over to her house, and Disa watched him tear it open. There was a note on top of the bubble wrap.

"Kept these in storage for you. We wanted to wait until you turned twenty-one to have them. Cherish them as we cherish you."

Uncle Bakari and Auntie Shavonne both signed it.

Erik removed the layer of bubble wrap and his heart nearly stopped.

He fingered the old dark brown leather, and a breath shuddered out of him.

"Erik? You alright?" Disa asked.

She put a hand on his shoulder as he lifted the leather-bound journal from the box.

"These are my father's journals," he whispered.

Opening the first journal, he recognized the careful Wakandan script written by his father's powerful hand. They taped a small piece of bubble wrap on the page. Erik unraveled it and gasped before falling on his backside.

"What is it?" Disa asked, rising concern coloring her voice

Opening his fingers, Erik stared at the wondrous gift.

His Baba's ring. Attached to the chain his mother bought for him as an anniversary gift. The chain his father wore the night he was killed by King T'Chaka.

His family birthright.

Now his.

Chapter 10 HERE

###

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#Black Boys Bloom Thorns First #Volume 3 #Killmonger Fanfiction #Killmonger Fanfic #Black Panther Fanfiction #Uzumaki Rebellion #N'Jobu

39 notes · View notes

ramp-it-up · 3 years

Text

Fresh Squeeze Ch. 13

Pairing: Daveed Diggs x OFC Linden Marshall (You)

Set in 2023, post-pandemic

Warnings: Minors DNI, 18 + ONLY, RPF, drinking, dancing, singing, cursing, lots of plot and fluff and sad with some Smut as well. This has everything. Daddy kink, oral sex (m recieving), cum play, drunken confessions/rambling, Love, y’all.

“As” x Stevie Wonder

Word Count: 5.7 K

Plot: Lindy reacts to her gifts, gets another one from the group, and TURNS UP. They finally get back to NYC and deal with having to be apart (or not).

“Well, what do you think?” Daveed was looking at you expectantly.

“I…….”

You really didn’t know what to say. You were surprised, intrigued, curious, and a little frightened. Your mind was trying to take it all in.

Daveed’s heart dropped as he watched your face. He closed the photo app on his phone.

“It’s cool. It’s a lot to think about...” He could kick himself. He’d gotten carried away and ruined a perfect thing. He wished he could rewind time.

“I, I’ll meet you out at the bar. Go have some fun. We’ll talk later.”

He might as well begin getting wasted for when you ended it between you two. It had been a great day and a half. He turned around and headed for the door.

“Diggs, where the fuck do you think you’re going?”

Daveed stopped and turned around, bracing for it. He saw the flash your eyes.

“Look, Linden. I’m sorry. I took it too far. Forget I even showed you that picture.” He leaned on the wall and looked everywhere but at you.

Your heart twisted in your chest. Daveed really did love you. And he was wearing his anxiety all over him. It hurt your heart that he felt that way. It was on you to communicate now.

You approached him slowly and put your hands on his arms as he looked at the floor. You bent your knees to get a glimpse of his eyes and to force him to look at you.

Daveed smiled when he saw you peeking at him. Maybe you weren’t pissed at him.

“I’m so pissed at you,” you breathed.

Oh, well.

“How are you going to lecture me about running away all the time when that’s what you were about to do?”

Daveed opened and closed his mouth. Then he looked at you. You were right.

You slid into his arms and he looked down at you. So fucking beautiful.

“Thank you for my presents, Daveed. I’m not mad that you got them. But you’re right, it is a lot to think about.” You sighed and lay your head on his chest.

“This weekend has been amazing, and I’m happy you got carried away…It means….”

“It means I love you, Lindy.” He kissed the top of your head. “But I get it, you need time to think about… taking that step.”

Daveed realized that you were just nervous.

You bit your lip and nodded. “Yeah.”

Daveed leaned down and kissed your lips. It was slow and sensual.

“Anything I can do to help with your thinking process?”

His lips were at your cheek, moving to your jaw, your earlobe and then your neck. You moaned as he found the spot he’d memorized so quickly, like a verse.

You moaned, heating up again as his hand smoothed your dress over your ass and his fingers reached for the hem. Again.

You felt yourself begin to tumble down the hill of your desire for Daveed, which you tried to snap yourself out of by clearing your throat, to which Daveed smiled at against the skin of your collarbone.

“We should really get back out there.”

You fully expected him to object, but instead he agreed.

“You’re right.” He planted another kiss on your spot. “The crew is working on a gift for you out there.” He nuzzled your neck and then kissed below your earlobe.

“What?” You were curious as to what they were up to. Daveed just stared at you. “W-what do you mean they're working on a present?”

Daveed chuckled and smiled at you, grabbing you by the hand. “I don't know. Let’s go see.”

--------

Craig happened to be passing by when you and Daveed came out of the bathroom. You were caught.

“OOOOOOOOOh. I’m gonna call Monalinda on your ass.” You were swole, and about to cuss Craig out and then instantly deflated.

“Oh shit.” You looked at him. “My mom.”

You dropped Daveed’s hand and dug in your purse for your phone, which you had basically ignored all weekend.

It was lit up with birthday messages, one from Mark, which you deleted, and plenty from other friends and acquaintances on social media.

You looked up at Daveed. “I’m have to call my mom. I’m going to step outside.”

“I’ll go with you.” Craig, your protector.

Daveed didn’t want to let you go, but he didn’t want to crowd you. You went downstairs and out of the door, Craig with you.

You scrolled for the call from your mom, and like clockwork, she’d called at 8:43 am, the time you were born. It was well over 12 hours since she’d called. You cringed and dialed her back.

She picked up immediately.

“Linden? Happy Birthday, Baby.”

“Hey Mama. Thank you. Sorry I missed your call.”

“That’s ok, baby. I figured you’d be busy having fun. Craig watching out for you?”

You laughed and looked over at Craig. “Hey Auntie Mona!” He yelled and all three of you laughed.

“Hey Craig! Take care of Linden for me.”

“Mama, I’m 30 years old now. I can watch out for myself.”

Now she was laughing at you. Sometimes it was like you were her twin, brash and independent.

“Ok, you’re right. Is that Daveed boy there with you? Craig told his father that you had a crush on him.”

“Oh, did he now?” You were gonna tap Craig in his jaw. You made a cutting motion against your throat to him. He just laughed at you and flipped you off.

“Yes, mom, he’s here,” you sighed.

Mona knew that tone. And she laughed at you again.

“Linden, just be open to love, Baby. You deserve it.”

You loved your mom so much, but It was when you were talking to her that you were reminded of Dell. That’s why you tried to avoid it. Because when you thought about Dell, you felt like you didn’t deserve anything.

You thought about how you should be on a three-way call with her and Dell, her wishing you both a happy birthday.

“Mama…. I’m sorry. I…”

“Linden. Stop it. Just stop it. It wasn’t your fault. You can’t live your life blaming yourself. He’d want you to move on. And he’d be so proud of you now. I’m so proud of you.”

“I love you Mama.” You smiled through your tears.

“I love you too, Baby. Now get off the phone with me and go have some fun with that tall, fine man. And tell me all about him when you get back, maybe bring him to meet me if you realize you should snag him. Have a safe flight.”

You laughed at her read. “Ok, Mama. Goodbye.”

“Bye, Lindy.”

You took out your phone and scrolled through your pictures of Dell. You picked one and made your annual post for your birthdays. Craig moved toward you and took you in his arms.

“You okay, cousin?”

You looked up at him, and the tears came harder because he was crying too. He was the only one who missed Dell almost as much as you. Except your mom, who probably missed him more. You hugged Craig and let yourself cry.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine after I kick your ass for telling Uncle Lindron about Daveed. You know he and Mona talk every day.” You started to walk back into the club, where Daveed was watching for you to return.

“Lindy, this ain’t Jersey, and I’m not one of those little hoodrats you used to fight all the time. I’ll fuck you up, just like I did in the 7th grade.”

“Shut up, Craig!” you laughed and pushed him, lightening up a little, especially when you saw Daveed’s concerned look as he came for you.

“You okay?” You looked up at him and smiled, giving him a quick peck on the lips. “I’m good.”

Craig and Daveed led you to where Rafael, Anthony, and Jasmine were standing. Daveed planted you on the stool and looked you in the eyes.

“Stay here.”

“OK?” You looked around to see everyone smiling at you. Rafa winked as Daveed approached a mic stand. You got a feeling of dread in your stomach.

Oh no-

Daveed looked at you as the crew gathered around.

“Hey everybody. This is Lindy.” He held his hand out to you. “And it’s Lindy’s birthday today. And I bet she thinks we’re about to embarrass her and have you sing ‘Happy Birthday’ to her.” He looked over to you. “But she’d be wrong.”

You breathed a sigh of relief.

“We were wondering what to give the woman who has everything.”

You called out to him. “Are you included in ‘everything?’”

“You are correct, madam.” Daveed smirked in response. You shook your head as everyone laughed.

“But we decided to use what we have and that is talent. And we picked a song to perform that her cousin Craig said was a family favorite and is really really true for all of us, especially me.

We’re going to perform a song that lets you know that you got new family members for life.”

Rafa cued the DJ to start the track. As you heard the opening cords, you brought your hands to your mouth, emotional.

Jasmine was first up.

As around the sun the earth knows she's revolving/ And the rosebuds know to bloom in early May/ just as hate knows loves the cure/ You can rest your mind assured/ That I'll be loving you always/ As now can't reveal the mystery of tomorrow/ But in passing will grow older every day/ Just as all is born is new/ Do know what I say is true/That I'll be loving you always

Jasmine came over and gave you a hug as she sung the last line.

Everyone started dancing this choreographed routine of 70’s dance moves, the hustle, the hand jive, and the bump during the refrain as they sang. Even Craig joined in the chorus.

Anthony sang next.

Did you know that true love asks for nothing./ Her acceptance is the way we pay Did you know that life has given love a guarantee/ To last through forever and another day/ Just as time knew to move on since the beginning/ And the seasons know exactly when to change/ Just as kindness knows no shame/ Know through all your joy and pain/ That I'll be loving you always

Ant handed Rafael the mic next.

As today I know I'm living but tomorrow/ Could make me the past but that I mustn't fear/ For I'll know deep in my mind/ The love of me I've left behind/ Cause I'll be loving you always

More dancing, and you had to get up out of your seat.

Daveed had the bridge:

We all know sometimes life's hates and troubles/ Can make you wish you were born in another time and space/ …...And maybe our children's grandchildren/ And their great-great grandchildren will tell/ I'll be loving you

Everyone in the club joined in the chorus by the end, including you. It went on and on and was the best time you’d had on your birthday in a long time.

You ended up in Daveed’s arms with everyone dancing around you. It was big love and it was perfect.

You danced and drank shots until you were exhausted and wasted. You and everybody sang all the way back to the beach house, and Daveed had to practically carry you in when you arrived.

---------------

“THAT WAS THE BEST BIRTHDAY OF ALLL TIMEEEEEE!” You looked around the great room of the beach house and saw everyone staring at you.

“YOU’RE SO LOUD! BE QUIET! SHHHHHHH!”

“That’s you. You’re yelling Lindy.” Daveed was cracking up at you.

Jasmine and Anthony laughed at you on the way to the master suite.

“G’night mom and dad!” You waved at them as they retired for the night.

“Are you going to flog me, General?”

You heard Jasmine say, “Oh my god, she’s wasted,” as she and Anthony went in their room. Anthony replied. “Oh, fo sho.”

Daveed chuckled and shook his head as he led you into your room.

“General, hunh? No, I’m not going to flog you. I’m gonna put your ass to bed.”

You sat down on the bed and looked up at him adoringly.

“You know, I went with ‘he who must not be named’ to see Hamilton in 2015. When I saw you in that uniformmmmmmmmmm….”

You shook your head and closed your eyes, remembering. ”I had a flash of a thought to run up on stage and suck your soul out.”

Daveed smiled his shy smile again, embarrassed.

“I’m sorry, I’m fangirling right now. But sign my tits.” You tried to pull the collar of your dress down, and when it wouldn’t stretch, you started fighting with it, trying to get it off.

“Easy, easy.” Daveed was highly amused. He helped you to stand up so you could get out of your clothes.

He looked down and stroked your cleavage. “I already marked them up good. And when those fade I’m coming back for more.”

He leaned down and kissed the tops of each breast and then stopped himself to help you out of the dress. Now was not the time to start something.

“Oh shit, Daveed.” You squirmed. “You got me wet. Damn, boy. You keep me wet.”

You started singing WAP as you twerked in front of him. Daveed was enjoying seeing the carefree side of you. You could be so free and he was glad that tonight got you there.

You flopped back down on the bed. “Damn, I would let you fuck me in that uniform tho. A dream. And that sword? The hilt of that mutha fucking sword. Fuck. Do you still have it? I mean...”

You opened your legs and ran your hands up your thighs.

Daveed grabbed them and pulled you back up so that he could slip your dress off. You were out of your mind, but you still got him there.

He’d have to see what he could do about that costume when you were sober. He wanted to fulfill your every fantasy, and he hoped that you would let him.

When you came out from under your dress you looked about to cry. He frowned a bit.

“What happened?” When you looked up at him with your drunk, teary eyes, he remembered. Tequila.

“I don’t deserve you. You’re so fucking sweet. And nerdy, and cute, and so fucking talented. I mean you’re such a great actor, and writer, and rapper, and you can rap so fast, I mean damn that tongue.”

You opened your eyes wide. “Is that why you’re so good at head?” You covered your mouth at the realization and started crying harder. “I don’t deserve you!” Daveed helped you as you cried, and he tried to get you in the bed.

“Yes, you do Lindy. We all deserve love. Now calm down. It’s ok. We can talk about it in the morning.”

You stopped and stood still, adamant, naked for Daveed to take in and save for later. “You wanna know a secret?” You looked around the room to see if anyone was listening, even though you were alone with Daveed. “I forgot what I was talking about.”

Daveed laughed and went into the bathroom to get one of your makeup wipes. When he handed it to you is when you started crying again.

“No one ever wanted me to take off my makeup before...no one cared about my skin… and no one sang to me in Puerto Rico...”

You were still crying as you wiped the tears and makeup away. “Tell me why you love me in the morning.”

“I will. Lay down and I’ll get you some water.” Daveed got you under the covers and tucked you in.

“It’s gonna be hard when we get back to New York, cause I’m a bitch in New York. In Isabella I’m a queen…”

“Yes you are. You’re MY queen. Anywhere you go. You’re not gonna get rid of me in New York. Now try to center yourself and calm down okay?” You smiled weakly up at him and nodded, holding your arms out to him.

Daveed hugged you, kissed your forehead and then went to the kitchen to get some bottles of water. Rafa was in there, eating cereal and on his phone.

“Ya girl is wasted.”

“Yeah, she’s gone, man gone.” Daveed smiled. “Thanks for tonight, man. The arrangement was tight.”

“No problem at all. We all really love Lindy. She’s special, man.”

Daveed smiled as he gathered about four bottles of water and set them on the counter. He had a faraway look. Rafa could read him like a book.

“Oh shit, Diggs.”

Daveed looked at him.

“Yeah, this is it.” He’d made a decision.

“Happy for you, man.”

Daveed gave Rafa a smile and elbow dap as he went back to your room.

You were singing “As” and smiling when he returned. “I’m tore up. Sorry.”

Daveed blinded you with his smile. “No worries, Baby Girl. Here, drink this. It will go better when you wake up if you do.”

You returned his smile and drank the entire bottle of water. It helped clear your head a bit and the exhaustion got to you. Your eyes were drawn to him like a magnet as he headed toward the shower and took off his shirt. Damn, why did his back get you hot?

“I’ll be waiting for you when you get out.”

Daveed smiled back at you. “Get some rest Lindy. I know we’re leaving Isabela tomorrow, but we have time to spend together beyond that. I’m not going anywhere, Baby Girl.”

You smiled and nodded, hazily realizing something and resolving to stay up before you knocked out into a deep sleep.

-----

Daveed had stayed up a little while longer than you and wrote some things, editing a verse for a track that he and Rafael were producing and also adding to his Linden notes. Then, he took you into his arms and fell asleep.

He wondered how he would do it without you in New York, or how he would go back to the West Coast without you. He was thinking about the same things you were, but he was more confident that you two would find a way.

The Monday morning sun greeted him and he rolled over to see that it was 10 am. The flight back to New York left at 3 pm. Just a couple of hours before everyone needed to head to the airport.

You were still knocked out, snoring a little, but so adorably. He kissed your forehead and got out of bed with a bottle of water, padding to his room.

He marveled at the fact that he’d spent very little time there this weekend. It was basically a glorified closet and he was glad for it.

He was grateful to Jasmine and Anthony who offered to plan this weekend for you. They knew that you and he together on a tropical island would do the trick.

He shook his head that it actually worked as he put on his running shoes and shorts and packing up a little before he went running.

Daveed sent you a text before he got started, then headed west on the beach and did a lot of thinking, planning how to soothe the fears that you’d expressed last night.

----

You woke up 20 minutes after Daveed left with only a slight headache and fuzzy memories of the night before. You instantly missed Daveed and grabbed your phone.

Good morning my Queen. Going running. Be back soon. Love you.

You smiled like a schoolgirl at your phone, and your heart immediately lifted. You lay back on your pillow and thought of how lucky you were.

Then, memories of your drunken ramblings came back and you buried your head under your pillow.

You hopped in the shower and tried to forget what you’d said, hoping that Daveed did too. It was the first time in a minute you gotten to shower alone, so you took your time.

When you came out in your towel, your hair wet and conditioned, you met Daveed who was trying to sneak back in and see you wake up.

Seeing you all wet and sexy in just a towel did something to Daveed. You were surprised, your mouth in that sexy o shape, just like in the fitting room of H & M.

“Hey.” Daveed smiled at you.

“Hey yourself.”

You smiled back and shifted your weight as water droplets tumbled down your shoulders into the valley between your breasts. Daveed couldn’t help but stare. “How was your run?”

“Damn.” Daveed realized too late that you had asked him a question. “I mean…” he chuckled. “It was good.” He noticed you eying him and realized that he was all sweaty.

‘Damn’ is right you thought, the sweat was running down Daveed’s torso like the water from your shower. He smelled like his cologne mixed with the sea air and more musk. You needed that. Right now.

“I’m all sweaty, can I borrow your shower?”

You walked nearer to him, stopping behind him him in front of the bed. “No.”

Daveed turned his head to question you. “No? You mean I can’t borrow your shower? You want me to go back to my…”

“No.” You traced your finger in the sweat on his lat muscle and then put it in your mouth.

“I don’t want you to use my shower, and I don’t want you to go back to yours. At least not right now.”

Daveed turned around and faced you and when he did, you dropped your towel on the bed. His eyes went where you wanted them to.

“I want to lick the sweat off your abs, your dick and your balls before you do that.”

“Holy shit, Lindy.” Daveed groaned, grabbed you by the throat and pulled you in for a kiss. “You’re so fucking nasty.” He kissed you as his cock swelled. “I love it. I love you.”

You sat on the bed and pulled him toward you, getting started on your mission. You put your tongue in the happy trail of black hair below his navel, flat and wide, and licked a long stripe up and around his belly button.

The tangy essence of his perspiration contained some kind of aphrodisiac, because you went crazy and would have licked him clean if he hadn’t stopped you to take off his running shorts and shoes.

You watched his dick, thick from desire, spring free and slap his stomach. You immediately grabbed for it and Daveed stepped out of your reach. You looked up at him, and he returned your gaze.

Unspoken communication flowed that this was going to be as equals. You grabbed for it again and he stepped closer, allowing you to palm him as you licked and sucked his sack.

He leaned his head back in ecstasy as you took care of the boys and jacked him off. Then he looked down at you and you kept eye contact as you licked the tip of his dick, circled it with your tongue and then opened your mouth and deep throated it like a champ.

“Fuuuuuuucckkkkk, Lindy.” Daveed reached for your breasts and squeezed them, pinching and rolling your nipples. You arched your back, and your ass looked amazing on the bed. Daveed needed to hit that.

He pulsed at the thought of breaking your back and realized that he was buried deep in your throat at the moment. His eyes came back to yours, which were watering with the effort to breathe around him.

He didn’t hold you there, but you kept your nose nestled in the wiry hairs at the base of his cock. Damn. He wanted to be both places at once.

He brought his hand up to your wet hair, gently massaging your scalp as you did what you wanted with him. He had the irrational desire to tattoo your name on it, because nothing would ever compare to you.

You came off of him, sputtering and gasping for breath, a proud smile on your face. Daveed smiled down at you and wiped your mouth with his hand as you smiled back up at him. He leaned down and gave you a filthy kiss.

“I want you to pound me from behind.” Your voice was a sexy whisper, making tingles go up his spine.

“Just what I was thinking. We’re made for each other, Lindy.” He kissed you again.

You quickly pulled away and got on the bed on all fours, ass presented to Daveed. He just stood there admiring you as he stroked himself for a minute.

He was trying to meditate, pray, something, because what you’d already done to him and just looking at you was going to make him bust.

You looked back at him, and bit your lip, watching him. Then, you brought your hand up to your mouth, licked your fingers, and brought it down to start steady, tight circles on your clit, arching your back and giving him a good view of exactly what was happening.

“Shit.”

Daveed grabbed your hip and lined up with your cunt, feeling with his tip that you were fluttering around nothing but that. He whined in the back of this throat as he made himself sink into you slowly, your pussy grabbing him with each millimeter. He bottomed out. You were stretched out wonderfully.

“You good? How’s that feel?”

You could only whine. “So good. So, so, so good Daveed. Please.” You were begging, his dick was pulsing. “Please, please, please Daddy.”

Daveed groaned again. “Fuck, yeah. You want it?”

“Yeah!”

He started moving. He thought he was going to pass out it felt so good.

“This shit feels so good, Linden. You need it?”

“Fuck, yeah, Daddy. Oh!” Your arms had collapsed, and your cheek was getting pounded into the mattress as Daveed pistoned into you harder and harder. “Thank you thank you thank you.”

You were so fucking sweet that Daveed was about to paint your insides with his children. But he stopped, causing both of you to curse and pant into the silence.

The throbbing of his dick and the clenching of your pussy pushed him over the edge, making him lose control and start pumping again.

You knew he was trying to hold out and the thought that he couldn’t triggered your orgasm and you came, tears coursing out of your shut eyes as you moaned.

Daveed felt you cum with relief, because he was able to make sure you got yours; watching you cum was magnificent. But now it was his turn

“Where do you want it Linden?”

“On my ass Daddy.” You smiled back at him with glazed over eyes, still lost in sex land.

“Fuck!” He pulled out and fisted his cock, spurting all over your beautiful cheeks as he reached around for your sensitive clit.

He relentlessly held you fast with his arm as you tried to run from the second orgasm that was triggered by his fingers and the feel of his cum dripping down your folds.

“Shit, Daveed!” He chuckled evilly as you came apart again, leaning down to put his drenched fingers in your mouth. You made eye contact with him as you sucked his cum off them, and he was almost hard again. Damn.

He collapsed on his back and watched as you lay on your stomach and closed your eyes.

“Looks like we both need a shower now…”

You opened your eyes, and his heart clenched. You were so pretty. So purely Linden.

“Damn, I Love you girl.”

“I love you too, Daveed.” You bit your lip at the emotion. “We probably need to shower separately because….. we'll miss our flight.” He knew what you meant.

Daveed frowned. “You’re not wrong, but we can save time and water if we shower together. I promise I won’t try anything but get squeaky clean.” He was not trying to have this togetherness end so soon.

You couldn’t help but smile. You were doomed. You sighed, gave him a peck and made your way to the shower, him hot on your heels.

----

You boarded the flight back to NYC the same way you boarded the 3 and a half hour flight to PR, with you and Daveed running to the gate to board just in time.

You settled into first class, this time eagerly snuggling up to him in the blanket from jump. You were whispering and giggling together. Daveed looked at you and knew what you were thinking.

“Before you say it, let’s wait and join the mile-high club for when we’re not with our friends.” You peeked through the divide in your seats to find Craig and Rafael behind you. Craig stuck his tongue out at you.

“Yeah, you right. I don’t wanna hear it from this crew.”

You cuddled happily, on your phones and taking selfies, posting them separately to IG. Even though you didn’t post the pics of you two together, the fact that Rafael photobombed both of the ones you posted gave the connection away.

When you deboarded at JFK about 8 o’clock, you and Daveed brought up the rear of the group, not walking slowly, not wanting the weekend to end. By the time you got to baggage claim, Rafa and Jas and Ant were walking out to the cars that were waiting for them.

“See you later guys! Thank you again for everything.” You hugged the Martinez coupled as they went back to Brooklyn.

“Catch you tomorrow Cash.” Daveed gave Rafael dap and you gave him a hug as he departed.

Craig was at the baggage carousel, just waiting to order the uber for you and he to go back to his place. You were very quiet, lost in your thoughts.

“.....Rafa and I have a late lunch meeting at 1 tomorrow and then rehearsals start Wednesday through Friday at the new venue. Then we have the weekend off and shows start up again next Tuesday. What does your week look like Lindy?” Daveed wasn’t going to let you slip away from him, physically or mentally.

“Well, I have this Bar exam study session tomorrow afternoon, and I really need to cram for the exam next month. And… oh shit, I have this event for the law firm I’m clerking at in the fall on Saturday. It’s sort of like an introductory mandatory thing. Black tie.”

Daveed looked at you. “So, I guess you already have a date for that.”

You snapped out of your funk and caught the tone. “Yeah, I do.” You fought a smile and Craig started shaking his head as he looked at his phone.

“Oh.” Daveed rocked on his heels and watched for his bag on the carousel.

You tapped his arm and smiled at him, nodding your head toward your cousin. “It’s him.”

Daveed made eye contact with Craig who laughed at him.

“Sounds dope.” He was very relieved.

“Well, about that Lindy…..” Craig had some news. “Brian is coming to visit next weekend. Imma fly my baby out!” He took in your shocked face. “What?”

“Nothing. You grown. And you’re ditching me. That’s always cool.”

Craig shrugged. “What you won’t do for love.”

Daveed agreed. “So it sounds like you need a date.”

You turned back towards him, a smile on your lips.

“Yeah, sounds like it. You think Rafael is free?”

Daveed bent his head and shook it. “What time do I need to pick you up, Linden.”

You perked up at the dom voice, and replied immediately. “8 pm.”

“Done.”

“Perfect, and pack a bag, you can stay with Daveed so Brian and I can have the place to ourselves.”

“What makes you think that I want to stay with him, or if he even wants that? You can’t just…”

Daveed interrupted you. “You’re welcome anytime, Baby Girl.”

You shivered. “Okay…” you almost said, ‘Daddy,’ but you didn’t. Not in front of Craig.

“It’s settled then.” Craig grabbed his bag and you reached for yours, but Daveed grabbed it before you could take it.

You walked out to where you and Craig’s uber waited and the car the Daveed had ordered waited. Daveed loaded your suitcase after Craig put his in the trunk and got in, giving you two some privacy.

“Text me when you get home. I’ll call you later, maybe facetime.” Daveed felt something crazy in his chest at the thought of leaving you.

You nodded and tried to smile up at him, tears pricking your eyes. “I will. I might text you in the uber?” You didn’t want to be away from him yet.

“Yeah, yeah. Do that. I’ll see you in four days.”

“Just four.” You searched his eyes. “Ugh! I love you Daveed.”

“I love you too, Lindy.” You reached up for a kiss and he picked you up to meet him. He put you down and you swallowed the lump in your throat.

“Bye.”

“Bye.” You waved as he walked toward the black SUV. You opened the door and then you saw him look back at you, eyes in full puppy dog mode.

You got in the uber, and Daveed got his bag situated and entered the back of the car. He looked back and saw your uber pull out, his driver waiting for it to pass. Then, he heard a knock on the other window.

The window rolled down and Daveed peered out at you, smiling.

“Did you mean it when you said I was welcome anytime?” Your smile was irresistible.

“Get that ass in this car, Baby Girl.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

--------

Will Lindy and Daveed ever be able to be apart? Is this a healthy relationship or are they going to fast? Let me know. Please like, comment, and reblog!

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104 notes · View notes

ateezmakemeweep · 4 years

Photo

badboy!wooyoung

word count: 5k

angst, fluff

request

your first week of bartending had been exciting.

you liked the rush of the crowded bar and buzzing excitement, thinking that you’d be dealing with chipper regulars and funny drunken ramblings. but within the first week, you quickly realized that’s not at all what you were gonna be subjected to.

the crowded bar would lead to orders being shouted and demanded left and right at you. the buzzing excitement was actually a mix of testosterone filled with fighting and the drunken squeals coming from dancing girls.

and the chipper regulars were more so in the form of obnoxious wannabe rockstars, who perform there every friday and saturday night and add on to your frustration.

because after six months of dealing with jung wooyoung, you were just about ready to quit.

at first, like any living breathing human with eyes, you were immediately taken by the boy and his band members. they were attractive and alluring and you couldn’t help but watch their cocky smirks and confident walks as they took the stage.

you remember wooyoung watching you the whole time he played his guitar and sang into the microphone, black hair hanging in his face as his lips kissed the mic before he pulled back with a smirk.

you did your best to show your indifference, taking orders or cleaning the bar when, really, you couldn’t pull your eyes away. but then the second he approached you, it was over. because if the way he pranced over and visibly checked you out wasn’t enough, he really had the balls to ask if you wanted to meet him backstage.

backstage meaning the back room, where you keep extra barrels of food and liquor and napkins. you couldn’t help the way your lip curled in disgust nor could you help the way you told him you would never do such a thing with a person like him.

“i don’t know, i saw those eyes, pretty,” he had said, his voice low but eyes teasing. “i think we’d have a lot of fun.”

“i think you should fuck off if you ever wanna perform here again.”

and then he laughed in your face and ordered a round of shots, slipping you two twenty dollars bills after he took back his card. “i’ll see you next weekend then,” he said with a parting wink.

and then he never looked your way again that night. it had become sort of a staple within these past months.

you watch him on stage, he watches you back. he comes over when he’s done and sees if you’re gonna accept his backstage invite. and then when you decline, he smiles teasingly and leaves you with a wink.

and perhaps the reason he never comes back over is because he’s usually getting shitfaced. downing shot after shot, sneaking in and out of the bathroom as he fiddles with his nose, leaning against one of the many girls you know he has wrapped around his finger before bringing them backstage.

but you don’t care, why should you? you know everything’s just a game to him. that he’s careless and causes trouble and there’d be absolutely no way he’d want anything more than just a night with you.

and that’s something you’re not willing to give him, no matter how much you like watching him on stage. like watching his lips part on the mic as his hazy eyes look at you in a way that always gets your stomach fluttering.

it had been especially packed tonight. you’d been taking orders and filling glasses since your shift started at 8:00 and it showed no signs of slowing down five hours later.

you hadn’t even been able to watch wooyoung perform but it was truthfully the least on your concerns; especially now, as you had to deal with a group of obliterated men you and your coworker were cutting off.

or at least trying to. because one man in particular was screaming at both of you, the vein running down his forehead threatening to burst and you wouldn’t be surprised if he tried to jump over this bar and sock you in the face.

“i can get you water,” you told him for the fifth time, looking apologetically at a group of women who’ve been waiting to order.

“did i say i wanted a fucking water?” he screamed, his fists slamming down on the table probably in an attempt to intimidate you; but with the night you’ve been having you could give a shit; in fact, you’re half tempted to take the water nozzle and spray him right in the face, thinking that the consequence of getting fired would be well worth the satisfaction.

but you refrain and stare blankly the man, telling him again he’s only able to have water for the rest of the night. he starts screaming in your face, cursing at you for being a stupid bitch and slurring that he’s the cu-customer so you should listen to him.

but you only roll your eyes and walk over to take another order, apologizing before attempting to ask what they want. but before you can get the sentence out, they’re pushed out of the way and a hand wraps around your arm, pulling you forward and your side smacks right into the bar.

loud grunts of surprise echo around you and the drunken man’s friends attempt to pry him off of you but he’s only tightening his hold. cursing lowly and demanding more drinks before you squint your eyes and tell him to get the fuck off of you; because even though you’re terrified and in pain, you refuse to let him see that.

you’ve dealt with enough shit at this job and you’re not about to let some immature loser manhandle you. but before you can twist your arm out, a fist to his face knocks him into one of the barstools and into his group of friends.

you rip your red, bruising arm away and to your side, snapping your head to see wooyoung standing there with a pissed off look on his face. his black hair is still sweaty from getting off stage twenty minutes ago and the vein in his neck is bulging. the man looks to the side and sees wooyoung was the one to get him off you, probably thinking that the few inches of height he has on the boy is gonna work in his favor.

but because he’s so obliterated, wooyoung’s able to get a few more punches in until the guy’s friends back him up. they push wooyoung away roughly and grab their friend who fights against their hold, calling the guitar player with fire in his eyes a pussy and telling him to take it outside.

“you both can,” you snap and wooyoung looks over to you in the midst of the chaos. his eyebrow is raised at you before his gaze drops to your arm, eyes narrowing when he sees your hand holding the red spot.

about thirty seconds too late, the lousy bouncer comes from outside and drags the man and his friends out of the bar, your co-worker fretting over you and asking if you’re okay. she nearly has tears in her eyes and you can only roll yours, insisting that you’re fine before looking at wooyoung again.

“that wasn’t necessary,” you tell him, dropping your arm so you can start to clean up the wet mess of beer on the bar.

“oh no?” he hums lowly, cocking his head to the side as he looks at you. there’s a sliver chain around his neck that shouldn’t be grabbing your attention so much; nor should his cut arms or hint of a tattoo peeking out of his shirt.

“no,” you snap. “i could’ve done it myself. you know you’re not supposed to fight in here.”

“am i not supposed to punch someone who was hurting you?”

you narrow your eyes at him, holding his gaze before the darkness in them causes you to get far too nervous. you look over to grab another rag and clean off the bar top, listening to the bouncer telling wooyoung to get out too.

“are you fucking kidding me? he was ripping your bar tenders arm off because you were busy dicking around.”

and then even though you were just victim to a fight, you find yourself needing to jump around the bar and throw yourself in between wooyoung and the bouncer two minutes later.

“get out,” you snap.

“y/n, you’re joking, i was fucking helping-”

“and now you’re making my life harder,” you cut him off, hearing the ruckus of people getting louder throughout the bar. because after one fight here, it almost always sets off some sort of idiotic wave and you wouldn’t be surprised if two more people try to rip your arm off tonight now.

your eyes catch hongjoong, the drummer of the band who seems to be the most level headed one of the bunch and you flag him over. you drown out the sound of wooyoung whining at you and tell them they have to leave before the bouncer kicks him out.

hongjoong nods his head in understanding, growling at wooyoung to follow him before they fuck up the one steady gig they have. he narrows his eyes at you and you only shrug and throw your arms up in defeat because what are you supposed to do? he fought the guy too and your coworker is about to lose his shit.

“you drive me fuckin’ crazy, y/n,” you hear his voice grumble as he turns away and leaves you, a posse of girls following behind that only makes you roll your eyes and groan. you go back behind the bar and lift your shirt up, a large ugly bruise already forming on your skin.

“he was just trying to help, you know,” the other bar tender says, your friend who from the beginning thinks you should give wooyoung his night with you. “he likes you.”

“he doesn’t like me. he wants to fuck me like he fucks everyone in this place.”

“okay so he likes you and he wants to fuck you. what’s so wrong about that?”

you let out a huff and smack her with rag, growling that you guys have to get back to work and finish the rest of the two hours without incident. she only lets out a sigh and rolls your eyes at you, telling you she knows you like him too so what the hell is holding you back?

her comment effects you but you don’t even have the time to dwell on it, refilling drinks and cleaning up before your shift ends at 3:30 in the morning. you have to all but kick everyone out, almost debating to set off the fire alarm but remembering how much trouble you got into last time for that.

you say goodnight to your coworkers before walking outside, the cool night air a pleasant contrast to the stuffiness in the sticky, hot bar. your car was parked right across the street but before you can even look both ways, someone leant against the side of the building catches your eye.

you’d recognize him anywhere, those arms and hair that you more often than not ogle during your shifts. you highly consider just leaving him there, knowing san or hongjoong probably isn’t too far behind before his head snaps up and he sees you staring at him.

you let out a huff when he waves at you, attempting to walk over before he stumbles off the wall and nearly falls right onto the concrete. so even with a pounding head and irritation flooding through you from the night, you stomp over and stand right in front of him.

“why are back here?”

he smirks at the sound of your voice, his head back against the wall and his black hair hanging low in his face. “you’re usually more excited to see me.” you narrow your eyes at him and refuse to answer, raising a brow at him and crossing your arms.

“why are you here? where are your friends?” because even though you’re so fucking irritated with him and everyone else tonight, you know you couldn’t leave him here.

“told them to leave. that i’d get a ride home with you after i made sure you were okay.”

he watches through his hazy vision as your eyes roll and you let out a sharp exhale, his smirk widening as he leans closer to you. “since, you know, that guy hurt you and then you got me kicked out. what was that about, pretty?”

you bite the inside of your cheek at the way that word falls from his lips, looking at him skeptically. “you punched him in the face, wooyoung.”

“he was grabbing you, y/n,” he growls lowly and your eyebrows shoot up at the anger and frustration in his voice. “was i supposed to sit there and watch it happen?”

“i had it under control.”

he lets out a scoff as he looks over your body, his hand reaching out and taking your wrist to examine for any injury; but you quickly rip it away, wincing when your elbow smacks into your side.

and even in his drunken state, this obnoxious boy notices and his eyebrow raises curiously. “what was that?”

“nothing,” you snap. “now get in the car. i’m exhausted and wanna go home.”

“you finally giving me a chance, y/n?” he asks with a smirk, your eyes narrowing before you turn around wordlessly; you wait for him at the curb, letting out a sigh when he stumbles over to you and grabs at your arm.

“hold my hand, i can-can’t stand.”

“then maybe you shouldn’t have drank so much.”

getting wooyoung into his apartment proved to be a challenge. because, to begin with, it took him nearly thirty minutes to tell you where it was.

“you’re able to have a conversation with me, wooyoung, you’re not that fucking shitfaced. so which way is it?” and when he only looks dumbly out the window, squinting to see the street signs in the darkness, you’ve had enough.

“if you don’t tell me, i’m leaving you on the side of the road.”

“bullshit,” wooyoung says and you raise your eyebrow at him challengingly. a handsome, obnoxious smirk appears on his lips and you shake your head, reaching over him to open the door. “get out.”

a deep chuckle rings from his mouth and he swats your hand away before you can pull the handle, a pout you’ve never seen before taking over his face. “you didn’t even give me time.”

“i’m serious, wooyoung, tell me or get out. i’m fucking exhausted.”

he leans his head on the side of your leather seat, staring at you with glossy eyes before whining when he sees your hard gaze isn’t budging. “make a right up there.”

you let out an annoyed sigh, bringing your hand back to the steering wheel before following wooyoung’s directions. he tells you to stop in front of a brick building and you do so, looking over at him to see he’s already staring at you.

“what?”

“walk me up.”

your hands curl into fists and you hold back the urge to scream, instead grumbling his name through clenched teeth.

“c’monnn, i’m a little tipsy and have to walk four flights of stairs. what if i slip and fall and crack my head open?”

“then maybe you’ll learn not to-”

“drink so much? yeah, maybe. but i’ll be dead so the lesson would kind of be too late, right?”

you two have a stare down, his eyebrow raised and eyes so hopeful you find yourself eventually taking your keys out of the ignition with a huff; it would also probably worry your mind to think about him making his way up the stairs, the small chance that he really would crack his head open forever wrecking your conscience.

so with a happy, lazy smile on his face and a scowl on yours, you wrap your arm around his waist and guide him up the stairs. he falls into you several times and, despite everything, you can’t even stop the laugh that leaves you when his loud ones echoes in the stairwell, quietly telling him to shut up and walk like a normal person.

this wooyoung is so different from the one you’ve seen every weekend. he’s lighter and carefree and open, not so intense and dark and jaded. he seems like a real person opposed to some sort of...phony. playing it up as a cool guitar player who only cares about getting high and fucking.

“it’s this one,” he tells you once you’re in the hallway, watching him type in his key code before guiding you into the apartment; it’s a lot...cleaner than you expected. modern dark furniture with walls free of photos or decor but it’s still nice enough, looks lived in but not too cluttered or disgusting.

and there’s also not a scent of sex or pot or dirty laundry, which is always a plus.

“where’s your room?”

he snaps his head over to you and looks at you with a smirk, his eyebrow raising suggestively. “why do you wanna know? are you accepting my offer now?”

“sleep on the floor then,” you bite back, his hand around your shoulder tightening as he sloppily guides you down the hallway. he opens the door to his room and plops right down on his bed, slipping off his boots before laying out like a starfish.

you watch him carefully, trying to assess if he really is okay or if you should call one of his friends to stay here tonight. because he made it without any incident on the stairs but if he ended up choking on his vomit, you’d also be ridded with guilt.

“wooyoung, are you good?” you ask. your eyes widen when instead of answering, he rips his shirt off over his head and shimmies out of his black jeans. you can’t even help the way your mouth falls open, more so shocked by his bold undressing than the defined muscles of his abdomen and tattoo in full display on his ribs.

because, yes, that’s what has you more shocked. you’re not at all effected by him laying there, looking up at you shirtless with a smirk and half-lidded eyes.

“are you good?” he counters, his arm behind his head defining his oblique muscles. the sight makes your cheeks flush and the room to feel incredibly warm, swallowing down the nerves as you nod your head.

“i’m not the one who had to get escorted home.”

you want it to sound snippy and feisty but it only sounds pained to your own ears. maybe he doesn’t realize though, maybe he's too drunk to realize the effect he has on you. maybe he’s just gonna tell you to go home and-

“come here.”

something in your lower stomach swoops at the way his voice commands it, cheeks warming and your head shaking.

“no.”

“please.”

you let out a shaky breath, taking a dramatic inhale because you can’t do this tonight. he’s drunk and you’re irritated and attracted to him and everything about it would be wrong. but you find yourself walking over anyway, standing next to his bed and keeping your eyes trained on his face.

he’s looking you up and down and you resist the urge to bite your lip, especially when he reaches out and tugs you closer to him.

“wooyoung,” you say warningly. but he only lets out a quiet groan, dropping his hand from your waist and you bend down so you’re face to face; you can’t have him eyeing your body and touching you, the air is too thick and he’s far too attractive.

“why don’t you like me?”

you can’t help the small laugh that leaves your mouth, biting down on your lip to hide your smile. “i just drove you home and walked you in,” you state obviously, “what’s giving you the impression i don’t like you?”

you also can’t help the way you mock his words ever so slightly, just because they sound a little too juvenile leaving this man’s mouth.

“you make it obvious,” he grumbles. you roll your eyes because you have a feeling you know where this is going, the familiar scene of the backroom flashing in your head.

“why, because i refuse to go backstage with you?”

“no,” he says lowly and you look at him skeptically; but he only narrows his eyes at you and reaches out to touch your cheek.

the gentleness throws you off, your eyes widening and breath catching in your throat. he sees the way your eyes change but he doesn’t say or do anything, just holds your gaze before his thumb start to caress your cheek slowly.

“then why do you think that?” you eventually find the ability to say, words coming out in a whisper you didn’t intend. your eyes fall to his lips that pull into a smirk, meeting his gaze again when he pulls you down closer to him.

“because i wanna kiss you,” he tells you bluntly, not a hint of hesitation or doubt in his tone. “but i don’t think you want me to.”

your tongue pokes out to lick your dry lips and his eyes immediately follow, a tiny noise in the back of his throat causing you to swallow nervously.

“you’re drunk, wooyoung,” you remind him gently, his eyes rolling and a sigh leaving his mouth.

“barely,” he grunts out in annoyance which causes you to hum questioningly, your eyebrow raising as you look at him because then why the hell did you walk him up in the first place?

“you knew i was lying, pretty,” he says with a smile, the amusement in his voice causing you to shake your head. his thumb starts moving over your cheek slowly again and he brings your face closer. just a bit, to test what you’re gonna do, either push him away or drop your gaze to his lips and lean in.

“i don’t think i did,” you mumble back sarcastically, feeling your resolve weakening the more you lean down. the more you look from his eyes to his lips and his hand cups your cheek, guiding you down until your lips meet.

and then the second they do, it feels like it’s over.

the months of waiting and flirting with your eyes and leading each other on like both of you didn’t so desperately want this. to feel your lips part against one another and your tongues to tangle, for his hand to fist the back of your hair and for you to moan quietly into his mouth.

he tugs you up until you’re straddling his waist, the thin layer of his boxers under your jeans. your hands are cold on his warm skin but the kiss never breaks, a mix of teeth and tongues and moans as you finally give in to one another.

but when he puts his hands on your hips and squeezes, it acts sort of as something to ground you. remind you that he’s drunk and that he might not remember this tomorrow. that if this ends badly, you’re still gonna have to see him every weekend and you don’t want to make your workplace awkward.

because you know you’ll go through with this and get attached and then you’ll be the one hurt.

you mumble his name against his lips and he pulls back immediately, looking over your face and sees all the hesitance and fear in your eyes. “you’re drunk,” you tell him quietly. “i- we can’t do this.”

“i’m not even drunk, y/n, i was-”

“if we do this and you don’t remember tomorrow, i’m gonna...” be hurt, be really fucking hurt and i won’t ever be able to look at you again. i’m gonna feel like i took advantage of you and waited all of this time for nothing. “i can’t.”

you try to get up from bed but he pulls you back before you can, your butt falling back onto the mattress as you plop down next to him.

you inhale shakily because you wish you didn’t have to stop. you want to keep kissing him and hear his moans and see all the things his fingers and tongue can do. the fingers and tongue that you swear tease you every god damn weekend on the strings of his guitar and pad of his microphone.

“i’ve wanted you since the second i fucking saw you, y/n, of course i’m gonna remember.”

the confession makes your eyes widen because even though you’d known he was always flirty and obnoxious, this seemed extremely...forward. and deeper. but you thought that maybe those were your own hopes clouding your judgment and perception, the softness in his eyes and the frustration in his voice maybe a figment of your imagination.

“but that’s...all you want,” you say quietly and it’s the first time he’s ever heard a ounce of vulnerability in your voice. you’re usually so strong and sure of yourself, eyes hard and entire being so confident. but right now you look completely out of your element. nervous and unsure about what he even wants from you.

“how do you know?” he asks, his hand running through your hair softly. “you never gave me the chance to tell you what i wanted.”

you purse your lips to the side as your eyes roam his face, everything genuine and soft and you think that might be scaring you the most right now.

“oh? so i was supposed to know that you were gonna ask me on a date backstage?”

you can’t help but chuckle at the smirk that crosses his face, stretching out his bare muscles as a tiny sigh leaves his mouth. “okay, maybe a little bit of both,” he hums lowly, your hand lightly smacking his stomach. both of you let out quiet chuckles before a yawn leaves your mouth, his pouty request that you sleep over causing him to get another smack.

“i was kidding,” he huffs and you shake your head as you stand from his bed. he looks up at you with heavy eyes and you know the second you leave, he’s gonna pass out. “but not about...a date,” he suddenly says. “and not about me remembering. when i see you next weekend, it’s gonna be the first thing i say to you.”

you roll your eyes and nod your head sarcastically, still keeping yourself guarded in the event that this is all a lie. that he’ll see you next friday and give you that signature smirk and wink calling you pretty.

“right, of course you are.”

“i am,” he says sleepily, his black hair messy as it hangs in his face. “so you better say yes.”

true to his word, that following friday after his set, it’d been the first thing he said to you. a knowing glint in his eye and a smile pulling at his lips as he asked you in front of everyone, band members and your nosy, excited coworker included, if he could take you on a date next week.

san and hongjoong sighed in relief, their synchronized voices shouting “finally!” causing him to roll his eyes and punch them in the arm. you looked at the boy with a smirk, cocking your head to the side as your gazes meet. he raises an eyebrow challengingly before nodding his head toward the back of the bar.

“unless you’d prefer i take you back-”

“yes,” you squeak, narrowing your eyes as you shake your head and fight back a smile. “let’s go on a date.”

#this had to be bumped up for OBVIOUS reasons #the man he is #wooyoung #wooyoung angst #wooyoung fluff #ateez #ateez angst #ateez fluff #request #wooyoung scenarios #ateez scenarios #wooyoung imagines #ateez imagines

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holylulusworld · 5 years

Text

Unwanted Love

Request: Reader is mob Steve sis, but she's born out of extramarital affair so he's not very fond of her. He marries her off to mob Bucky. She's scared how he will be, he's quite cold cus even he doesn't know how it should work. Once, in an argument he holds her tight leaving marks. But this scares reader off, every time he moves around her she flinches, so he asks Steve for help. He's too oblivious to her, but now even he realizes he loves her. So, they both improve as hubby & bro & make her happy

Pairing: Mobster!Bucky x Rogers!Reader, Steve Rogers x Sister!Reader, Sam Wilson, Clint Barton, Brock Rumlow

Warnings: angst, unrequited love, shitty brother, sad reader, innocent reader, scared reader, a hint of domestic violence (just in case), arranged marriage, violence, blood, mentions of torture, characters death, kidnapping, comforting, fluff

Unwanted. Again, you feel like you don’t belong even during your father’s burial you are left outside alone.

While everyone condolences your half-brother, the golden boy of your father's Empire his ‘official’ child no one seems to even spare you a glance.

Minutes turn to hours and you look at your father's grave again. With him, the last person at least recognizing you died.

Being born out of an extramarital affair was never easy. Everyone looked at you with this angry expression when your father brought you home one night.

“I am sorry, Y/N.” Clint mumbles.

He’s one of the few people talking to you since your father died. “Must be hard being alone with Steve now.” Nodding silently, you bite your lip.

“If you need anything, tell me so.” Sam steps closer to give you one of his hugs. “I know Steve can be rough, but he will take care of you, Sweetie.”

“Sam, that’s kind of you, but we both know he hates me.” Sniffling you look at the rose in your hand. “He even forbid me to place the rose onto dad’s coffin as everyone else. I am unwanted, always was.”

“It’s not your fault his father was unfaithful.” Clint mutters as Steve talks to someone you never saw before.

An uneasy feeling makes your chest tighten as the man looks at you, grinning like a cat that got the cream. “If anyone is guilty, it’s his father for cheating on his wife and getting your mom killed.”

“Clint,” Sam warns, watching Steve smirk at Brock. “I need to talk to Steve for a moment. Do not let Y/N out of sight. I got a bad feeling.”

“Sure. I’ll bring her over there and stay by her side.” Clint watches his friend run toward Steve. “Right, princess? We will put this rose onto the grave now and Steve can’t do shit about it!”

“Thank you, Clint…” Sniffling you let your friend wrap his arm around your shoulders. “Maybe I can leave town and find a job.”

“You will not do this, Steve. Your father knew about your plans and prepared something. If you try to marry Y/N off to Brock, you will lose the Empire to his brother.” Sam grunts and his friend's features darken.

“I can do whatever I want with that girl.” Eyes narrowed Steve watches you cry into Clint’s chest. “She’s not my sister.”

“Pardon me, Steve but that girl is your sister and you should see it’s not her fault your father had an affair, nor was it her fault your dad got Y/N’s mother killed!” Sam pants heavily as Brock won’t stop staring at you. “I swear if you do this to her, we are done, and I’ll call your uncle.”

“You wouldn’t betray me, Sam. We are friends since childhood.” Steve tries to reason with his friend, but Sam won’t give in.

“Yeah, but this doesn’t mean I will allow you to marry the poor girl off to Brock after all the shit she had to bear. Her mom got killed and it was her dad’s fault, a man who never cared about her or helped her mom raise little Y/N.” Steve tries to swallow the lump in his throat as he must watch Brock stalk toward you.

“Sam…she’s not my blood.”

“Bullshit, Steve! She is your sister and got no one left. She never asked to be part of this shitshow or your family. All she wanted was her mom, but your dad got her killed. He decided to take Y/N with him instead of letting her live with her aunt. You know that!”

Sam’s voice raises and Clint looks at Brock with darkened eyes as the mobster tried to touch you.

“Still, it’s my decisions and…”

“No, Steve. Y/N is a nice girl and deserves better than this. Since she’s six years old she looks up at you and Bucky like you are the sun or shit. I will not let you hurt her!”

Blinking a few times Steve searches for Bucky who is busy to help Clint keeping Brock away from you.

“Bucky you say…” A smirk appears on your brother’s lips and Sam doesn’t know if he helped you or made things worse…

“I don’t understand why it has to be me!” Bucky groans as he watches you clean the table. “I mean, she’s a nice girl but I am not ready to settle down, nor do I like her that way, Stevie.”

“Buck, listen.” Placing one hand onto his friend’s shoulder Steve looks at you. “It's you or Brock but…” Whispering the next part Steve leans closer to Bucky’s ear. “If I sell her to Brock, my uncle will get the Empire. Do this for me, Buck.”

“Punk, I can’t just marry your baby sister and do dirty things to her! She looks like an innocent angel and I am far from being nice!” Lips pursed Bucky watches you leave the room. “Can’t you ask Sam or Clint?”

“It has to be you, Bucky. Now do this and you can have as many girls as you want to. We only need the façade to show everyone I take care of my poor sister.”

Scrunching up his nose Steve watches you start to dust the shelves. “She can clean and all. Do this for me so I can keep my Empire.”

“Fine…”

Three months ago, your brother told you that Bucky Barnes will marry you. Normally you would’ve been happy, you always liked and adored Steve’s best friend, but you knew its only business to him.

Now you are here, in his home and feel unwanted all over again. There is not a day he doesn’t glare at you or tries to make you feel small.

“Is my lunch ready? I have an important meeting with a friend…” Smirking Bucky strides toward the table, waiting for you to bring a plate with his food.

“We both know you mean a girl.” Spatting the words, you shove a plate with a sandwich toward your husband and run out of the room.

“You will not talk to me like that!” Bucky yells after you but the door to the dining room slams shut before you can hear the words. “Lousy sandwich…” Poking the tasteless sandwich Bucky grunts.

He’s used to getting delicious homemade food from you, now there’s a tasteless sandwich on his plate and he hates it.

Bucky eyes the sandwhich before he decides it’s better than nothing. While he tries to choke down the sandwich Bucky gets up to follow your laughter.

Giggling you let Sam wrap an arm around your waist while he whispers something into your ear. You seem to like what your friend said as you nod eagerly while you take a bag out of Sam’s hands.

“Thank you, Sam. You’re kind.” Sniffling you wipe away some tears. “You and Clint are the only friends I have. No one likes me. Not Steve, nor Bucky…”

“What do we have here, Wilson?” Snickering Bucky steps out in the garden to give Sam a dirty look. “I think we didn’t have an appointment. If you excuse us now, Sam. My wife and I need to talk about a few things…”

Giving you a cracked smile Sam nods, hugging you tightly before he walks past Bucky. “Call me anytime, Y/N. Unlike other people, I am a friend to you…”

Sam barely left his house before Bucky grabs your upper arm to drag you into the house. The paper bag drops to the floor and you try to pick it up but Bucky steps on it and you sniffle.

“This is my house! You are my wife!” Bucky yells and you flinch at his harsh tone. “You will not meet up with Sam or Clint without my knowledge ever again.”

“Sam only…” Grabbing your arms Bucky slams you into the wall, holding you tight enough to leave bruises.

“I don’t care why he came here. You are my wife, now go to the kitchen and make me lunch…”

Scared you step away from Bucky when he finally let go of you. His eyes are hard, but he gasps at the sight of fingerprint shaped bruises around your upper arms. “Y/N…”

When he tries to touch you, your instinct lets you flinch away. “I…I’ll make you food…” You are gone before Bucky can apologize.

While he curses himself for hurting you he picks the bag up.“Seeds?” Blinking a few times Bucky looks at the ruined seeds. “Lily of the valley, doll?”

The next days you keep your distance to Bucky. Only leaving your room to make food for him you listen to every noise in the house.

The moment Bucky enters the kitchen you grab his plate to rush toward the dining room.

Bucky follows you silently, waits for you to eat with him but you leave the room silently, not caring he called your name.

Sitting in the room in silence, eating your food Bucky remembers the way you used to look at him and your brother.

He can still hear the harsh words coming out of Steve’s mouth to make you see he doesn’t want you around his friends.

Bucky always laughed as you sneaked into Steve’s room to be close to your big brother. He never understood why Steve hated you that much.

Whenever you entered his room, Steve’s eyes lit up for a moment before his features darkened and he started to yell at you.

One day you stopped coming to his room and stayed to yourself. From that day on, Steve’s mood was worse…

When he finished his plate, Bucky walks into the kitchen to watch you eating the leftovers of his meal. You dare not to look at him, even worse – when he moves around you to place the plate into the sink you flinch away.

Bucky doesn’t say a thing, he just grabs a glass of water to sit at the counter for a while. Just like with Steve, you closed yourself off once again. Talking to no one you spend most of your time in your room.

“So…uh…” Clearing his throat Bucky watches your hand tremble when he looks at you. “I…I have a meeting with Steve this afternoon and I want you to come with me to get the rest of your belongings.”

“I…I got everything I own.” Looking at your hands you hold onto your plate for dear life. “There’s nothing left at Steve’s house.”

“You got nothing left at your home?” Blinking Bucky makes the mistake to touch your hand. Scared you flinched away, and the plate falls to the ground, splattering food all over the floor.

“I…I am sorry. I’ll clean it, promised. Please…don’t hurt me…” Sniffling you try to remember where to find the dustpan and brush but the fear let your body shake. “I shouldn’t go to Steve’s house.”

“Doll, I said you will come with me.” Getting the dustpan Bucky tries to help you but the moment he gets closer you flinch away. “I need you to follow me.”

“Steve said I am no longer allowed to enter his house. That this never was my home, Buck…I mean James, I can��t go with you. Please don’t force me…” Tears roll down your cheeks and Bucky nods silently.

“Okay. I’ll check if you forgot anything for you…”

“Steve…I…I fucked up.” Falling into an armchair Bucky runs his hand frantically down his face. “I scared, Y/N and now she flinches away every time I get close.”

“Where’s the problem? You don’t want to be close to her, Buck.” Not looking up from his papers Steve cocks a brow. “’s not as if you ever liked her.”

“Punk, can you stop being an ass? I remember the times when she stopped coming to your room. You yelled at her the week before, called her a bastard child and I saw the light in her eyes disappear. She didn’t stay away as she found new friends, Stevie.” Sighing Bucky looks at his friend.

“Y/N was alone for most of her life and now I hurt her…”

“Hurt her?” Steve’s hands ball into fists and for the first time, he has murder in his eyes as he looks at his friend. “Did you hit my sister? Did you abuse her, Buck?”

“I…I grabbed her arms and forgot about my strength. She only made me a sandwich for lunch, talked to Sam and even laughed. I got mad and she had bruises.”

“Fuck…”

“Yeah, Stevie. I fucked up.” Glancing at his best friend Bucky tries to find a way to make it up to you. “I stepped onto some seeds. I think Sam brought those to her for my garden.”

“About time someone fixes the shithole you call a garden.” Smirking Steve gets up to look at a picture of his parents on his desk. “Mom, she refused to acknowledge Y/N. Till she died, mom refused to call my sister by her name.”

“That’s awful, Steve. Y/N was six years old for fuck’s sake.” Grunting Bucky glares at the picture. “Mrs. Rogers, that was not right.”

“I just realized that Y/N never had a home…”

“Her mom died when she was six years old. Her father dragged her into a family she didn’t know, and no one ever gave her the feeling she’s welcome…” Playing with his phone Bucky debates to call you or not.

“I guess, we all ruined the chance to become a family. Mom, she was hurt, I get that, but Y/N was six years old and she should’ve known better than treating a child like that.”

Voice bitter Steve looks at a picture of Bucky and him in his first car. “I followed my mom’s lead and hurt an innocent child.”

“She looked up at you, Stevie. I could see the pride in her eyes whenever you talked to her. Y/N only wanted to spend time with her big brother. What can we do now, Steve?”

“How about we buy more of the seeds you ruined, some roses and bring dinner with us. We can try to talk to Y/N, apologize and take the first step.” Nodding Bucky isn’t sure if roses are enough to make up things with you.

“It’s sixteen years, Steve. How can you make up sixteen years?”

“What do we have here?” Smirking the man you got to know is Brock Rumlow steps closer as you tighten the hold on the seeds you bought. “Why is your lovely husband not around?”

“He has an important meeting. If you excuse me now.” Not liking the way Brook looks at you, you try to get away from him.

“Let me drive you home, Baby. I can show you some nice places too and we can talk about your marriage, Barnes and your big brother betraying me.”

Before you can get away Brock grabs your arm, making you cry out as he almost dislocates your shoulder.

“Please, let me go! I don’t know anything Steve did! It’s not like Steve would even talk to me.” Sniffling you look at Brock, but he rams his gloved fist into your face to knock you out.

“I will ask you a few questions, Baby.” Brock slides his fingers over your upper arm and you want to flinch away, but the ropes holding you to a chair make it impossible. “Late we can have some fun.”

“I…” Shaking your head you sniffle as his wraps around your throat. “We can do this the hard way, or I’ll be nice…” Licking over your cheek Brock smirks as he can almost smell your fear. “Good girl…”

“BROCK! That was Brock.” Picking the seeds and your purse up Bucky silently curses. “He wanted a deal and I suggested he marry’s my sister to seal the deal. After Sam told me about dad’s plans, I called things off.”

“Steve! How could you offer Y/N to this monster? You know how his girls end.” Wrapping his hand around Steve’s throat Bucky presses his friend against the SUV behind him. “If he hurts my wife, I’ll break your face.”

“Buck,” Coughing Steve wraps his hand around Bucky’s wrist. “Sam and Clint are on it. We will find her before it’s too late. Brock likes to play…”

Retching Bucky needs to take deep breaths. “If he touches my girl, he’s dead…no…he’s already dead…”

“I don’t know anything, please.” Looking at the instruments on the table you shake your head. “Steve never tells me about his business or anything. I swear!”

“They will pay for your freedom, give me all I want.” Smirking Brock slides his hand over your thigh to shove the dress up to your waist. “No one said I can’t touch the goods…”

“Please…don’t. Steve will not pay anything for me. He hates me…” Sniffling you look at the floor. “No matter what you do to me, Bucky and Steve will not pay you anything. You can kill me, they wouldn’t care.”

“Don’t lie to me, Y/N.” Holding a knife to your throat Brock grunts the words. “You are his sister. Now tell me Steve’s weak spot. I know he meets up with a girl.”

“I never was welcome to the family as my mother was only a fling to my father. I’ll never be part of his world. No matter what you do to me, I can’t tell you anything about Steve’s girl and even if I would know her name…” Glaring at Brock you need all your strength to not shake. “I wouldn’t tell you…”

“I will cut you into pieces, little girl.” Musing Brock presses a kiss to your neck. “I could be gentle if you just tell me something I can use against your brother.”

“You don’t get it! He will not come for me, none of them will, as I am no one to them. I never meant anything to Steve or Bucky.” Sniffling you hate you sound pathetic. “I wish one of them loves me, but they don’t…”

“Awe…did you just listen, Sam? Tell your boss I want him here in an hour or his beloved sister will experience more pain than anyone before her.” Snickering Brock hangs up the phone and you are sure you will die tonight.

“Please…don’t…” While you beg for your life Brock enjoys your fear. He’s sliding the dull side of his knife over your thigh, smirking as he gets a glimpse of your panties.

“We will have so much fun before your brother comes here. I’d like to get to know you better, Baby. How about you’ll be my good girl?”

“Fuck you!” Spitting into Brock’s face you flinch as he backhands you, but it was worth the fight. “I am not your good girl!”

While you struggle to breathe as Brock wraps his hand around your throat, smirking when your eyes flutter shut the door bursts open.

“Hands off my wife!” Gun aimed toward Brock’s head Bucky steps into the room, followed by Steve, Sam and a beyond pissed Clint.

“You heard him. Hands off my sister or you will die slow and painfully.” Unlocking his gun Bucky steps closer and Brock finally let go of you, stepping back to raise his hands in surrender. “Steve, free her…”

“Come on, Barnes. I tried to have fun with…” The bullet ending his life hits Brock by surprise. While his body drops to the floor he gasps for the last time in his life.

“No one touches what’s mine.”

“Y/N, fuck…” Looking you all over Steve wants to pick you up but Bucky is faster. Stripping his coat off he wraps you into the warm fabric.

“I’ve got you, doll. You were so brave, Y/N.” Kissing your forehead Bucky wraps his arms around you. “I’ll bring you home.”

Barely able to keep your eyes open, head lulling back you let Bucky carry you out of the house.

Steve yells orders at his men, angrily clenching his fists as he can see the ugly bruise at your cheek.

“Burn that goddamn house down after you gathered all information we will need to bring Brock’s allies down. No mercy for people kidnapping my sister. Spread it, Sam. Whoever dares to touch Y/N dies…”

“Shhh…don’t move too much, doll. Doc gave you some pain meds and took care of the bruises. I have an ice pack for you.” Carefully brushing your hair out of your face Bucky grits his teeth as he can see the bruises at your arm.

“He…he wanted to know about Steve’s girlfriend. I couldn’t tell him…” Sniffling you watch Bucky stroke your arm.

“I am sorry for grabbing you.”

“’s okay. I know you don’t like me.” Bucky brushes his thumb over the bruise, frowning as you don’t look at him. “It was Brock, the large bruise, not you. He grabbed me and when I tried to get away…”

“He’ll never touch you again, Y/N. No one will ever hurt my wife. You know…” Pressing his lips to your hair Bucky sighs. “Stevie and me, we are so sorry for treating you that badly. I will be a better man for you, doll…”

“I can just leave town and you don’t have to see me again, just like Steve. s’not as if anyone would miss me, Bucky. I told Brock the same.” Bucky’s hand gently rubs over your back to calm your shaking form.

“I’ll not let my best girl go, just like Stevie. I know that we have to prove to you that we are worth being in your life but will do so.” Looking up at Bucky in disbelief you blink a few times.

“I…I am not sure what to say.”

“You don’t need to say anything. Steve and I want to make things right from now on. We can’t promise to be perfect, but we will do anything to make you feel welcome and…loved…”

Whispering the last word against your hair Bucky can feel you relax with every stroke of his hand.

“Do you have food? I am hungry. Brock is a bad host for sure.” Snickering Bucky presses his lips to yours.

“Doll, you are one of a kind. Now let’s get my wife some food.” Nodding you let Bucky help you get up to lead you toward the dining room.

“I got no clue what I did but it looks eatable.” Poking the food with his fork Bucky scrunches up his nose.

“Punk, that’s for sure no food. You should taste my wife’s food.” Snickering Sam shoves his plate away. “I will order food for my wife now. Steve, never try to cook again.”

“Agreed.” Clint shudders at the taste of Steve’s food. “Let’s order pizza!”

“Nope. My wife decides what she wants.” Pecking your cheek Bucky looks at you. “What does my girl want?”

“I want…” Looking at your husband, followed by your brother you don’t know what to say. “I don’t know. No one asked me what I want for a long time…”

“Well, from now on...” Taking your hand in his Steve kisses it softly. “...you will decide what you want. Now let’s start with food.”

“Pizza…”

“You heard my sister! She wants pizza…” While Sam orders pizza Steve tries to talk to you.

For the first time since you came into this family, you’ve got the feeling you are welcome…

Part 2

All works Tags

@yolobloggers, @meganywinchester, @shikshinkwon, @miraclesoflove , @mogaruke, @shatteredabby, @soryuwifeyxx, @letsdisneythings, @i-love-superhero, @psychicforest, @thevelvetseries, @deanmonandnegansbitch, @sabascio, @goodgodimaweirdperson, @that-place-called-middle-earth, @the-broken-angel-13, @trumpettay, @zxph-yr

Marvel Tags

@stuckys-whore, @notyourtypicalrose, @voltage-my2dlove, @thedoctorscamanion, @officialmarvelwhore, @randomgirlkensy, @juniorhuntersam, @lumar014, @doctorswife221b, @sister-winchesters99, @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog, @the-soulofdevil, @chonisberonica , @redroomproperty, @natura1phenomenon, @chaoticfiretaconerd, @heartislubbingdubbing, @hhiggs, @sea040561 , @midnightsilver16830, @rvgrsbrns, @fandom-princess-forevermore

Bucky Barnes/Sebastian Stan Tags

@rynabarnesrogers, @marshyrebelcloud, @buchanan-lover

#Unwanted Love #angst #steve rogers #steve rogers x sister!reader #mobster!steve x sister!reader #MOBSTER!AU #mobster au #marvel fanfiction #marvel au #mobster!bucky #mobster!Bucky x Reader #mobster!bucky barnes #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x reader #james buchanan barnes #unrequited love

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wreckofawriter · 5 years

Text

Jelly Slugs

Pairing: Harry Potter x reader

Word Count: 2,278

Warnings: Swearing, a little angsty, still plenty of fluff

Song to Set the Vibe: broken ~ lovelytheband

Request: @mcluuvin666 hi could i request a harry potterxreader in which the reader & harry always seem to find each other in the hospital wing at the end of each year because of harry’s adventures & somehow she always ends up hurt in a funny/ironic way even though it wasn’t her intention to get caught in their messes if that makes sense? either way harry & the reader get really close throughout years of ending up in the hospital wing w the reader being frustrated w the trio bc they’re the “reason” why she’s hurt and she’s just kinda like “you lot are going to be the death of me” but harry and reader end up going out anyway. lots of fluff and maybe angst if you can? thank you so much!!

A/n: Once agian so sorry this took so long! It may not be completely edited, excuse typos, I wrote litteratly all of it tonight. I'm trying to burn through my requets, if u sent one I got it I'm just waiting to get to it

At eleven years old you had already had far too many near-death experiences, for you that meant one. You hadn’t meant to do anything at all, well except grab some snacks from the kitchen after hours, but it wasn’t anything you hadn’t done before. On your way back your ears had picked up a sweet symphony and you had grown curious.

Turning a few unfamiliar corners you found the room, its heavy door ajar. You pushed it all the way open, a pastry still stuffed in your mouth preventing you from screaming. A large three-headed beast lay in front of you snoring loudly. Before you could turn and run your eyes found a small wooden trap door at its feet. The phrase your mother often scolded you with echoed in your head, Curiosity killed the cat. You about turned on your heel but then the ending of the saying learned from an equally mischievous classmate came to you, But satisfaction brought it back.

You dropped the food in your hands and walked hesitantly towards the large dog. You then quietly opened the door, cringing as its hinges squeaked and peered inside being met with complete darkness. You were going to close the door retrieve your treats then head back to your dorm but as you turned you met a pair of brilliantly green eyes and you let out a yelp before stumbling backward and plunging into the hole with a scream. You were soon followed by three of your classmates almost as confused as you were.

You ended up getting your arm broken by a giant chess piece on your way to retrieve something you didn’t fully understand and what you believed to be a curse began.

You sat up in a cold sweat the image of a white stone queen drawing her sword waking you with a start. You rubbed your eyes only to find your left arm in a sling and aching a bit.

“Oh, good you’re awake.”

You turned to your right to see a little boy in round glasses smiling at you. “What happened last night?” you asked eyes wide.

“It’s a long story, but I suppose we have time.” He shrugged, “Jelly slug?” he offered holding out a colorfully wrapped package.

“Yes please.”

Second year began as normal as it should have but it was soon strange and dangerous, pearlized classmates and strict rules making the school feel less and less like a home. Of course, your luck being about as bad as it got, you where the last victim of the basilisk.

You had been polishing trophies to serve detention which you got for supposedly bad-mouthing Snape although it wasn’t your fault Draco was a filthy snitch. You then saw a large pair of yellow eyes in the shining metal and everything went dark.

You woke up four days later body aching eyes feeling extremely dry as you blinked vigorously. You had a strange sense of deja vu as the hospital wing soon came into view. Head once again thumping as you tried to recall your memories.

“Oh right, you're here.”

You turned your head to the right to see a wide smile, green eyes hidden behind round glasses as cuts riddled the boy’s face.

“Merlin Harry, what happened to you?” You gasped taking in his battered form.

He shrugged, “I fought Voldemort.”

You cringed at the name but said nothing of it to him, “Again?”

He laughed, “Yeah, this time it hurt more though.”

“I’m glad you’re okay.” You grinned at him.

His cheeks reddened a bit, “Yeah, I’m glad you’re okay too.”

You fell into an uncomfortable silence before Harry reached to his bedside table and offered you a tissue-wrapped box, “Jelly Slug?”

You nodded taking it from him

Third-year had been downright dreadful for you. You were finally a teenager which basically meant everything that had been easy and quick now seemed to take hours and far too much thought. Every little thing you did you were sure would be scrutinized, it didn’t help when a close friend of yours spread a nasty rumor about you and you found yourself skipping classes and opting to stay in bed. A serial killer being on the loose certainly didn’t help.

The only sort of decent thing that happened was your friendship with Harry, after two times of healing in the hospital wing together you decided to be at least acquaintances. You held study sessions with the boy and occasionally his two best friends although all they did was bicker.

You also happened to be outside reading when a rat lept on you and dove down your shirt leading to you being dragged into a tree by a dog who turned out to be a serial killer who turned out to be Harry’s godfather. But to be honest you didn’t really care.

You were absolutely livid, your leg was torn apart and for the third time in a row you had somehow been shoved into an adventure you most certainly didn’t want to take part in and you were bleeding heavily because of it.

Oh yes, how could you forget? You were also almost killed by your professor, who had turned into a werewolf just in time to almost kill you again.

When you woke up in the hospital wing with the golden trio surrounding you, you weren’t so pleasant.

A string of foul curse words, pointing fingers and yelling was shot at the three teens who apologized profusely insisting they did not mean to get you caught up in their business.

You eventually calmed down and found out it wasn’t all that bad considering you got to see the suddenly very attractive dark-haired boy who made a point to spend all of his free time in the hospital wing with you as your leg healed. You shared a large amount of jelly slugs as you read muggle books and did your best to stay on top of studies.

Fourth year was much better than the last. You and Harry spent more and more time together and you felt a large crush on the boy who lived growing. Hermione knew about it instantly and Ron seemed adamant to tease both of you just for the joy of watching your faces flush. But good things never lasted.

You had a heart attack when Harry’s name came out of the goblet and found yourself taking his side in a sudden war between him and Ron. The bitch of a journalist Rita Skita also plastered you and Harry’s face all over the daily prophet when she caught you hugging him before his first task. You went with Harry to the ball although to both of your disappointment only as friends. And you ended up comforting Hermione in the hallway anyway.

You also were almost drowned by your sorry excuse for teachers in the second task. Never one to back down from a fight you yelled directly at Dumbledor and Karkaroff saying how if your name wasn’t pulled out of that idiotic goblet than you shouldn’t have to almost die for the even more idiotic tournament. Of course, you did this with a very colorful vocabulary that landed you three weeks of detention.

When Harry pulled Cedric from the maze you had cheered clapping along with the band until suddenly you heard the boy wail like a wounded animal. You raced down to meet him and helped pull him off of the elder boy’s body.

He was shaking the entire time and when you finally managed to drag him away he buried his head into your neck and sobbed.

Harry was then dragged away by Mad-Eye and you were quick to follow, bursting in on the two just as Moody no longer became Moody.

“Harry!” You yelled diving at the quickly transforming man who was holding him at wand point.

Your body suddenly erupted in such harsh pain you thought you might throw up.

“Y/n!” Harry’s yells fell on deaf ears as the unforgivable curse took all of your attention.

By the time Harry was able to disarm the man, you had passed out from the pain.

You woke up in the hospital wing three days later a disheveled Harry seated in a chair next to you his arms folded on your bed his head resting on them.

When you tapped his shoulder lightly he jolted awake immediately engulfing you in his embrace sobbing out apologies as you pushed yourself closer into his chest.

“I’m so so sorry y/n, I never meant for you to be caught up in any of this.” He choked out pulling away from you and cupping your face in his hands.

“It’s okay Harry, I’m okay.” You spoke smiling weakly feeling extremely exhausted.

“But he used an unforgivable cu-”

“I don’t care, I’m just happy you’re okay.” You interrupted leaning into the soft circles his thumb was drawing on your cheek.

Harry’s eyes filled with an unidentifiable emotion and suddenly his lips were on your own.

The second they connected he backed away blushing so heavily you were sure he was hot to the touch.

“I’m so sorry y/n, I don’t know what I was thinking and I-”

You only shook your head and wrapped your hands around his neck bringing his lips back to yours. His hands ended up on either side of you as you leaned back down on the bed bringing him with you. He hovered over you, your tongue slipping into his mouth as you played with the ends of his hair. He tasted overly sugary with a hint of fruit, just like a jelly slug.

You were interrupted by a cough followed by a low chuckle and Harry immediately pulled away from you and you turned to see not only your headmaster but Professor McGonagal and Madame Pomfrey all staring at you.

Your eyes went wide and you felt so hot you thought you might catch the sheets on fire. You stole a glance at Harry who had paled dramatically, looking sick.

“I’m glad you’re feeling better y/n.” Dumbledore chortled.

You hissed in at the pain that shot through your ankle. Your head had also begun to pound causing you to squeeze your eyes shut and attempt to relieve the pressure by pressing onto your temples. Fuck Umbridge. You hopped that bitch was dead, as your eyes began to adjust to the sudden brightness of your surroundings you saw an all to a familiar sight. The hospital wing had become your home away from home and now in fifth year you, it made sense you ended up there once again.

When your psychotic headmaster dragged you, your boyfriend and your two best friends out to the forbidden forest as she was attacked by a giant she managed to hit you with some sort of spell which effectively left you in your current state. Harry who was seated beside you wrapped his arms around your waist and placed a kiss on your neck.

“You okay?” He asked he seemed stressed, then again when wasn’t he?

“I’m fine.” You lied with a smile pushing his glasses back up his nose.

“I think you should stay here y/n/n, I can’t have you getting hurt.” He frowned. You then took notice of the group of teenagers was behind him. They were clearly about to leave.

“I think history has proven that kind of unavoidable at this point.” You sighed standing up and drinking whatever was on your nightstand, it turned out to be a pain medicine that tasted the equivalent of dragon piss.

“Y/n...” Harry spoke hesitantly.

You turned to look at your boyfriend, your face set in stone. “If you don’t take me with you I will find another way to that building.”

Harry sighed biting down on his lip, “Fine. Alright, guys, let’s go.”

Your lips twitched into a smile just as you were about to leave the room you noticed a small half-empty bag on the table next to your bed, you stuffed it into your pocket and ran after the group you had fallen behind.

You sat silently eyelids feeling so heavy you thought they might close at any moment. Your entire body ached, your headache coming back stronger than ever, but you didn't let onto your pain.

Harry had his head buried into your stomach as you combed through his messy hair, his sobs were the only sound in the massive black room. Sand was scattered around you as you clung to your boyfriend your back up against a black glass wall as you stared blankly ahead of you. Dumbledore stood a few feet away, seeming almost as lost as you were. Part of you hated him for putting Harry through everything he had just been through, but you knew it wasn’t his fault.

Harry adjusted himself so his head was buried into the crook of your neck, his arms wrapped around your waist. The movement caused something in your pocket to crinkle, catching your attention.

You reached into your robe and removed a half-empty bag of candy. You smiled in spite of yourself.

You tapped Harry on the shoulder whispering his name. He looked up at you his eyes rimmed in red, his face blotchy, the sight made your heart throb.

“Jelly Slug?” You asked your voice cracking.

The boy let out a mix between a laugh and a sob before lightly placing his lips onto your own. He tastes salty and bitter, like tears and blood. You found yourself wishing you were elven again when everything was simple, wishing that Harry still tasted like jelly slugs.

Taglist:

(Realizing I forgot this last fic I posted, my bad)

@accio-rogers

@roslea

@k3nz-doodl3

@theseuscmander

Masterlist

#harry potter fanfic rec #harry potter au #harry potter ships #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #harry potter imagine #harry potter imagines #harry potter x you #harry potter x reader #harry potter x oc #hermione granger #ronald weasley #fanfic #draco fanfiction #draco malfoy imagine #draco x oc #draco malfoy x reader #draco imagine

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timextoxhajima · 4 years

Text

Grounded: Level 1

Level 0 | Level 2

Member: Minho (Lee Know)

Genre: idol minho x idol trainee reader, angst cause is it a dana fic if there is no angst

Taglist: @jaehyvnsvalentine @licorice526

[O C T O B E R 2 0 1 7]

Now the pain was exquisitely bitter. His shoulders are slumped and he's got those eyebags he has whenever he sleeps one hour every night for a week straight.

And yet, he still manages to spit out that stupid smile when he spots you idling at the entrance of his residence.

"Has BigHit gotten back to you about your second round of audition?"

The sourness in your face overwhelms your nose and eyes, instinct immediately pushing you to run in his direction. Minho quickly slings his duffel bag over his shoulder and behind him, letting you sink your head into his chest as you quietly sob.

"Why are you crying? Even I'm not," Wrapping his arms around your shoulders, you can feel his fingers tapping on your hair.

"That's cause you have a problem with letting your feelings out, you dumb cunt," Your mucus is threatening to slide out and stain his jacket, so you quickly move away and haphazardly wipe it off with the back of your hand. Minho's eyes are tired, and it feels like someone's stabbed your heart with a fork and tried to tear it open.

"Come on, my parents know you're here right? Let's go up and get some food."

Through the small laughters and interesting stories Minho had to share, you can tell by the way his parents look at him eat that they missed him; that they were already proud of him for trying because there was absolutely no way they could've created this specimen of a human by their two hands. Minho had completely personified his entire being into someone that he owns, but right now, he's manifesting that fake, seemingly-emotionless act right before his family and you.

Minho struts into his bedroom, you trailing slowly behind as he trudges his feet. Quietly shutting the door behind you, an interal debate sparks off in your chest. To force Minho to talk or--

The pinch in your heart is particularly challenging to tolerate when you see Minho scoop Doongie up into his arms, sinking to the floor next to his bed when he lets his tears fall. The muscles in your face distort into something torturing to look at in the mirror right next to his bed, the reflection triggering you into more of an emotional mess than he was in.

Doongie meows, nuzzling her snout into Minho’s hands. The fact that the cat, that usually wouldn’t give two fucks about her owner, was bothering to provide him some attention was threatening to shatter your spirit into a million pieces. You can hear him gulp down the desire to fall apart when he wipes his tears away, and you choose to remain silent, simply resting your head on his shoulder with your arm interlocked with his.

Gently closing your eyes, his crying gets physically more aggressive when his shoulders start to shake. He remained silent, and yet all you could hear was him cracking open.

Was it worth picking yourself apart for a dream that is difficult to attain? Why do we subject ourselves to this life - this life of mirrors and camera flashes and headlines that might not speak the truth? You are halfway there, maybe permanently stuck here, and while most people would want that freedom, you choose to subject yourself to those restraints?

Why?

Why are you so persistent in your dreams and what you love that you put yourself through this intricate torture that does nothing but pulls you apart... and then you’d have to shove your pieces back all together again?

Lee Minho, is it really worth it... breaking my heart so I can watch you travel miles away from me? Is it really worth it... to spend hours and months and years away from me, where I can protect you and tell you it’s okay to cry? Is it really worth it... to sacrifice your own desires for just one thing you want?

Is this really what you want?

Is it so hard to realise... that I need you by my side and not on a stage that I’m not on?

His harsh sniffles jolt you out of your inward misery, cuing you to quickly blink back the tears that were alarmingly close to dribbling over your lower lids.

“I messed up the lyrics.”

Minho chokes himself into a chuckle, and his laughter alone is enough to make to smile to yourself.

“You messed up the lyrics?” Raising your brows out of his sight, you can feel him moving to wipe his face.

“Yeah.”

“I’m sure Chan would’ve killed you on the spot if he could.”

Minho laughs through an exhale. “He would’ve.”

“So,” A gentle shuffle as Doongie finally shifts her attention away from her owner and to his duffle bag. “What now?”

The boy hums in soft contemplation. “I’m heading back to JYP tomorrow to practise more until he tells me what to do.”

A small pout finds your lips. Is this your impending future too?

“You haven’t told me what happened at your BigHit audition.”

Sitting up, you purse your lips before turning to look at Minho. His eyes are a mixture of red from the crying and dark from the lack of sleep.

“Should I even bother having this conversation with you since you literally just got back--”

“Yes?!” There is some degree of change in Minho; he doesn’t want you to feel burdened by the need to pity him for being eliminated off the show. “I was a backup dancer for BigHit since I was like, 17. You waltz in at 15, get into the backup crew unit at 16 and get casted?” Minho scoffs, unsatisfied.

“And I can’t even get into JYP.”

You fail to stop the slap that you were landing on his arm.

“See what I mean? I’m not having this conversation with you if you’re going to compare.”

He smiles.

“Alright, alright. So, seriously though,” He tilts his head forwards so he can meet your eyes. “How did it go? What did they say? Are they calling you back for a second round?”

Taking in a deep breath, your chest puffs out as you lean your head backwards.

“I just danced for the first audition, and they told me to try and sing something from BTS, so I danced to Not Today while singing it--”

“What? Not Today? While singing it?”

“It was not a great idea, I’ll tell you that. It was breathy and my volume was inconsistent.”

“Given the amount of Hellish footwork that song has, that’s not a surprise.”

“Right,” You comb your fingers through your hair. “Anyway, they didn’t give me a score or anything. They just thanked me and told me to wait for a call for the results.”

“So... now you’re just waiting?”

You turn to him. “Is there anything else I could do?”

He returns to his original position, back pressed flat against the side of his bedframe and folds his arms. “Well, if they didn’t eliminate you on the spot then I think you have a good chance of being called back for a second round. Companies usually don’t like wasting their time on someone that they don’t find potential in.”

You shrug lifelessly. “I don’t know. I don’t really care... yet, I guess. It’s not a priority. I’m just going because the BigHit assistant manager said I have potential so... I’m just trying to figure out where my potential actually stops.”

“Potential doesn’t stop growing though,” Minho lifts both arms and places both hands behind his neck, elbow touching each other in front of his throat. “Instead of thinking that way, I think you need to start considering if you really want this idol life. Once you’re in it, there’s almost zero chance of you coming back to becoming an ordinary citizen. And besides, word has it that BigHit has plans for a new boy group, right? That makes you, a girl, a new trainee, susceptible to their plans.”

You turn to him in slight surprise and suspicion. “How do you know these kind of things? You sure you don’t train at BigHit?”

Minho laughs wholeheartedly. “Word travels fast in this industry. The idols, managers and CEOs know everything before a single member of the public does.”

Your eyes revert back to his flooring. “I’ll deal with it when the call comes, I guess. I’m like 99% sure they aren’t gonna call me and tell me I got in anyway.”

Minho hums. “We could bet on it.”

His eyes are filled with anticipation – not for himself but for you, and it makes you want to hurl on him because he deserves it so much more than you do.

“Screw off,” Offering a gentle chuckle, you push yourself to your feet. “I’m gonna go home. Call me when you head back to JYP.”

“What for?”

“So I can watch you walk into your death trap of fangirls and paparazzi flashlights.”

“Get your wallet ready, I’m betting fifty.”

“You can ask BigHit for that fifty if I get in.”

Your heart is racing so hard against your chest when you meet those familiar faces again. Those that sit behind that five-meter table with their names printed on silver placards before their hands. The numbers of the digital clock behind them stared down on you like a devil’s eyes emerging from the darkness.

Among the five judges or audience - or whatever you called them - though, sat Bang Shi Hyuk himself. Gold, round glasses perched on the edge of his nose bridge as it threatened to slip off. One of the panelists was the assistant manager of BTS’ that had handed you the audition card. Another was a choreographer you recognised only because you’ve come to BigHit several times before: he was BigHit’s resident choreographer. The other two were rap and vocal trainers.

It feels like they were discussing about a price tag to paste on your forehead, then place you on a throne and yell “How much for this one?!”

“y/n?”

The assistant manager’s voice smacks you out of your mid-air sandcastle. Bang Shi Hyuk was leaning over to the choreographer, reading his notes while looking back at his.

“How are you feeling?”

Bang Shi Hyuk pulls back to his own seat, eyes scanning you above the gold rims of his glasses. The other three panelists have sold their attention to you, the vocal trainer looking like she was struggling to maintain that kindred smile she had on her face, otherwise you might’ve just dropped dead from the anxiety.

“Um, nervous is an understatement.”

The little smile that curves Bang Shi Hyuk’s lips is miniscule. The atmosphere somehow physically diffuses.

“Well, you did dance and sing to Not Today in your last audition,” The choreographer speaks up, arranging his notes in a corner and taking a sip of water. Is this it? Have they come to the conclusion that I’m not worth training?

“I-- Well, it’s the only song I know the exact steps and lyrics to.”

“Have more confidence in yourself and you don’t need to worry too much about steps.”

The assistant manager looks over the choreographer sitting next to him and eyes the CEO of the biggest boyband in K-Pop.

The mirror behind them was only displaying the tiredness that was seeping from your limbs. You’ve never heard of an audition where they allowed the auditionee to look themselves in the mirror, but of course, there was a camera sat right behind Bang Shi Hyuk’s head.

Your palms are sweating, and your knees probably slightly bruised after you performed a bit from GOT7′s Hard Carry, only because Minho had made you learn it with him in your free time.

The goodbye between you and Minho wasn’t teary or saddening, but it sure as Hell felt like shit when Minho was walking off into such an uncertain future - only for you to receive that phone call for the second audition just minutes after he leaves.

“What made you do Hard Carry? It’s not an easy song.”

“I... I know the exact choreography but not the lyrics.”

“Would you rather a song that you know the steps to or the lyrics?” The vocal trainer leans over her notes.

“Um,” I’m a dancer. Of course the steps. “The steps. I’m not over the top with singing... or rapping, for that matter.”

Bang Shi Hyuk finally stops the questioning when he pulls off his glasses and leans back in his seat.

“We are in the midst of training a group of male trainees for a boy-group debut in 2019, and our previous group is BTS who debuted back in 2013. It’s a big gap. This means that there might be a chance that we’ll only be debuting a girl group - if it even is a girl group - in...” He shrugs his shoulders. “2025? Maybe later?”

“2025?” You blurt out at the mention of the year.

“If you’re not up for this plausible plan then--”

“Uh,” The assistant manager actually interrupts Bang Shi Hyuk. You’d expect the CEO to be pissed or at least, unhappy, but all he does is blink at the assistant manager and leans forward.

The assistant manager whispers something to the CEO, leaving you burning with questions. You couldn’t decide if you were more nervous if they turned you away, or if they still remained you the question of waiting for eight long years.

The low-volume conversation finally fades to a stop when Bang Shi Hyuk pulls away, the assistant manager looking more anxious than before he said anything.

“I wasn’t much present at all the performances you did back-up for BTS, but Mr Son has informed me that you were pulled out from some 700 auditions and even out of the 20 girls that made it to the dance crew, he only asked you to come for the audition.”

Wait, 700?

“This is the same man who scouted half of BTS, so I trust him when he says you’re someone worth training. But I must know this, are you willing to pull through with this? You’ll have a whole file of contract to read, years of training and even after debuting, you must be aware that there are things you cannot do.”

Of course. Because my best friend is walking straight into this same situation. I’m losing him to this file of contract, will I choose to further the distance by taking one for myself too?

Before you can respond, the assistant manager looks at you with soft eyes. “You don’t have to respond now, but we do need to know if first - you’re interested to become a trainee. You’ll be on probationary training for about two to three years, see how you get along with the other female trainees and only when we have decided to debut a girl group with a confirmed number of members then we will have you sign the group contract.”

“Hold on,” Your tongue is dry. “Does that mean I--”

“You passed the audition. Say ‘yes’ now, and you’ll be a BigHit trainee.”

The force of the revelation feels like someone’s dropped a brick on your head with a post-it on it saying “CONGRATULATIONS!”

“Do I have time to think about this?”

Bang Shi Hyuk already doesn’t look that interested. But the assistant manager nods and offers you a pursed grin.

“We’ll wait for your answer, so take your time and weigh your options. We don’t want our trainees walking into something they don’t know everything about.”

A deep breath fills your lungs. The words were spoken to you, but why is it that you see Minho’s face in the mirror, because he is what you’re worried about?

#minho #lee minho #skz minho #skz lee know #lee know #stray kids #stray kids lee know #stray kids minho #skz lee know scenarios #lee know scenarios #minho scenarios #lee know fanfic

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aspenflower17 · 4 years

Text

Finding You (Part 16 of ??)

Hello metal husband and readers! Welcome to another update to Finding You! What’s on tap today you ask? Well, just keep reading and find out! New here and don’t want to spoil the story? Just hop on over to Part One through this link, and you can read through!

Word Count: 3,558

Tags for the Tagged: @simpingforsatan @naimena @hachimochi @wrathandgreed @magi-minminxiii @rensphilia @a-dream-at-night @chloelikesobeyme @getbehindme-satan @theuglypugling @oofthelazyweeb @solomonismyman (If you want to be added to my tags list, just say the word down below in a comment or a message, and I will get you added to the list :D)

Trigger warnings: One character’s a total douche, talk of war and death

Mc twirled the pencil she had been sketching with debating if she should ask the question she had been thinking about. Her and Michael were the only ones in the room and no one would be coming in for quite awhile. This was probably the best time she’d get to ask, "Hey, Michael. Can I ask you a question?"

He looked up from his book, "Yes? What is it?"

"Well, I was reading a book the other day, and I came across something odd. It… it was about the Avatar's Fall," Mc couldn't look at Michael, so she just continued, "Eyewitness accounts say there were eight angels that fell that day. So, I was wondering: Was there an eighth angel who fell that day?"

The silence was heavy, threatening to crush Mc. After a long moment, Michael's voice sounded lowly, "And just why were you reading about something like that?"

"Meeting them in person got me curious."

"And you would believe an eyewitness account over the teachings of the Celestial Realm?"

"Well, not necessarily. I just was curious since I'd never heard of there being another angel who Fell."

There was silence, and Mc still couldn't make herself look over, "I suppose just because some of them have paid attention to you makes you think you know all about demons.”

“No, it’s not that.”

“Then what is it then? If you haven’t forgotten, demons will lie about anything. Sinning comes naturally to them. In fact, the seven you keep coming into contact with are the embodiment of some of the most damaging sins. The lower demons are even worse.”

“I just want the most information possible. If there was another angel who fell that day, shouldn’t we tell everyone?”

“You forget your place, Mc. You may have luxuries other angels do not possess, but that does not raise your station. Questioning Father’s teachings. To believe something a demon wrote about another demon-"

"I'm not really questioning. I was just confused because-"

"And now you interrupt me? Just who do you think you are? I am an archangel, and the only reason you've been allowed down here. You are a simple angel that we have allowed to express her talents throughout the three realms. Do not make me wonder if it was the right decision."

Mc flinched at the door closing. Though he hadn't slammed it, nor had he raised his voice, she had felt the waves of displeasure rolling off of him. The threat about sending her back to the Celestial Realm had her really nervous. Before she was aware of what she was doing, the message had been sent.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I could’ve come to the castle.”

“Hmmm… I don’t think that would be for the best right now.”

Satan cocked his head, “Did something happen?”

“Kind of. Anyway, thanks for meeting me here.”

“Of course. Is there anything in particular you’d like to do?”

“Well, I kinda thought, since I have an invitation and all, that you could show me around the House of Lamentation.”

“I… I mean, if you want to. I’m warning you now, it’s almost never calm there. My brothers are… a handful.”

“Sounds great!”

Satan looked over in shock, “Seriously?”

Mc nodded her head, “I grew up with calm. I want some excitement.”

“Well, be careful what you wish for.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`

“GIVE ME BACK MY LIMITED DIAMOND EDITION SUCREY FRENZY SIGNED POSTER MAMMON! YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT IT’S WORTH!”

“Course I know what it’s worth! Why’d ya think I took it in the firs’ place?”

“SO YOU DID TAKE IT!!!”

“Oh. Whoops! Forget I said anythin’.”

“MAMMON!”

A blur of demon shot past Mc and Satan. All Mc could make out was white and brown, before Leviathan went past, considerably slower than Mammon, but still fast for a demon. At least, Mc thought it might be Leviathan. The shy purple haired demon was now in all black, with black horns and a snake-like tail. He also looked like he was going to rip apart his brother.

Satan sighed, continuing forward, hands in his pockets, “Welcome to the House of Lamentation.”

“Shouldn’t we do something?”

“Hmm? Oh, about them? I wouldn’t worry about it.”

“Ah. I see…”

“We should probably get you out of the immediate vicinity though. There’s no telling what those two idiots might do.”

“Where should we go then?”

“Hmmm… Well, since we’re close, I guess we could start with the kitchen.”

“Sounds good to me!”

As they walked, Mc looked around her. Though the decorations were both a tad macabre and extremely grand, she found herself… comfortable. The candle light cast everything in an almost cheery glow, and the atmosphere, while a little daunting, made her feel like she was…

“... Home.”

Satan stopped dead in his tracks, and turned slowly towards her, “W-wait… Hwat did you say?”

“Oh, did I say that outloud? Sorry. That probably sounded really weird,” when Satan didn’t answer, Mc continued a bit awkwardly, “It’s just… This is the most comfortable I’ve been in a brand new place in a long time. I thought maybe my attraction to the Devildom was just because of how novel it all is to an angel. But… Being in this house, it just makes everything feel more like… Home,” Mc looked up to see Satan looking at her with a very tender but sad look, “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah. Let’s keep going.”

When they got to the kitchen, Belphegor and Beelzebub were there, former hiding his head in his arms and the latter consuming a concerning amount of food in a very short time. He stopped when Satan and Mc entered the room.

“Burfy! Wrok hus herr!”

“Hmmm? What? Who is it?”

“Ots Emm Fee!”

Belphegor lifted his head tiredly, but smiled when he saw Satan and Mc, “So, you took us up on the invitation?”

“Yup. Satan’s showing me around.”

“Do you guys want some food?” Beelzebub asked, mouth cleared for a second.

“Well, I-"

"Here. You can have this," Beel said, grabbing her hand and dropping what looked to be a kind of sweet bun in it. He gazed at it for a second then looked at her and grinned before walking back to his food pile.

"You should eat it," Satan said quietly, " He doesn't share his food with just anybody."

"Oh. Okay," Mc said, looking at the sweet. She took a small bite and then her eyes grew wide before eating the whole thing.

"Thought you'd like it," the Avatar of Gluttony smiled.

"It was absolutely delicious! What was it?"

"An orange roll. It's a human word treat."

"I'm going to have to have Luke make it later."

"Did he come with you?" Beel's eyes were shining.

"Ummm… Not this time."

"Oh."

"I'll make sure to let him know next time I'm coming."

"Please do," Beel said, smiling again.

"Well, I'm going to continue our tour if that's alright."

"Yes, please do," Mc smiled, turning back to him.

"Have fun you two," Belphie said, dropping his head back onto his arm.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mc and Satan progressed through the house. The feeling of familiarity just kept growing as they went. There was a room off the kitchen that Mc felt very drawn to. Satan said it was just an unused bedroom, nothing of note, but it did nothing to curb her interest. In fact, it made her want to see what was inside even more.

When they got to the library, they had to stop because Mc was so excited. No matter how many library’s she saw, personal or otherwise, they never failed to excite her. The fact it was the personal library of the Fallen was not lost on her.

“Do you want to stop here for a bit?” Satan chuckled.

Mc turned to him with wide eyes, “Can we?”

“Of course. Spending time with books is always time well spent. Anything in particular you’d like to look for?”

“Ummm… Do you just want to give me a tour?”

“Of the library?... Hmm… I suppose I could do that. Lucifer does like it organized a certain way. And, of course, if there’s a book that catches your eye, all you have to do is say the word and we can stop to read.”

“Oh, that’s what you’re really after,” Mc teased.

“Well, can you blame me? Reading with someone in companionable silence is one of life’s greatest joys.”

“Well, I suppose it is nice to just sit and read with Sim, though he’s probably the only one I’ve read with.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Most other angels don’t just sit and read very often. Unless it’s scripture.”

“Sounds about right,” Satan said, rolling his eyes and starting to climb the stairs that lead to the second story of the library.

The “certain way” Lucifer liked the books to be organized was by genre, then alphabetically by author.If an author had multiple books, they were to be then sorted alphabetically by title, any series sorted by the first book’s title then in order. Many of the books were old though in impeccable condition. Mc was impressed by the breadth of selection available, and she could sense some spacial magic at work which housed more books than what was visible to the naked eye. While browsing, Mc found a book that looked interesting, and carried it until the tour was over. Satan happened to have a book in a hidden pocket in his jacket so they decided to sit and read awhile. Instead of the ground floor, Satan knew of a little nook on the second story which had a cushioned window seat and two plush reading chairs, so they went and sat there.

Though the story was interesting, she just couldn’t get into the book she’d grabbed. Her mind kept wandering back to her earlier conversation with Michael. She didn’t know how she could have brought up the subject in a way where he wouldn’t have gotten so upset with her. He’d reprimanded her before, but never had he been so dismissive and final about it.

“Are you alright?” Satan’s voice cut through her thoughts. She looked over to see him watching her.

She suddenly felt embarrassed, and averted her eyes, “It’s… Well, I got reprimanded by Michael.”

“Why?”

So Mc told him about her search for information, how Barbatos had told her to ask Michael and his rebuke. When she finished, Satan’s face was impossible to read. He was silent for long enough, she was concerned she had offended him somehow. Finally he spoke, “Lilith. Her name was Lilith. If you want some answers about what happened, I think Lucifer would be the best person to give them to you. I would suggest Beel, but he has enough trauma about what happened as it is. I don’t even know if he remembers, or if he’s blocked it…”

“Blocked what?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`

Satan knocked on a bookshelf on the ground floor. A deep voice sounded from behind it, “Enter.” At the word, the bookshelf sung open to reveal a secret room. Despite wondering what was going on, Mc was both delighted and intrigued.

“You guys actually have a secret room behind a bookcase?!”

Satan shrugged, “Yeah. The house has a lot more secrets too. It would’ve been my room had I not lost a bet with Lucifer. Now it’s his office,” and with that, he walked in.

The whole room was a lot cozier than Mc would’ve expected. Austere and imposing yes, but there was a level of warmth and comfort to the room Mc would never have expected.

“Satan, what is it?” Lucifer sat at his desk, quill scratching across some paperwork. He hadn’t looked up.

“Mc has a question for you.”

This got him to look up, “Ah Mc. How can I help you?”

“Oh, if I’m interrupting something I can come back later.”

“I could use a break anyway. Please continue,” Lucifer sat there expectantly.

“Okay. Umm…” the memory of Michael flashed through Mc’s mind, and she winced a bit, but continued on with her story. Lucifer’s eyes darkened the further into the story she got. When she got to Michael’s chastisement, Lucifer got up from his chair abruptly, and went over to his window, back to Satan and Mc. Mc faltered in her story, watching as his clothes changed, horns pushing up and out from his head.

“I told her you’d be the one to ask,” Satan intervened, coming to stand behind Mc.

“Why? You know everything. You were there,” Lucifer asked, back still turned.

“You know the whole story,” Satan shrugged, eyes on the black clad figure.

Lucifer was silent and unmoving for quite awhile. Mc’s tension was on high alert for quite awhile, not seeing the horns retreating, until he finally spoke, “Before I begin, I feel I must warn you. You are going to hear things you probably won’t like or agree with. You are not to interrupt me. There will be a chance for me to answer your questions at the end, but only at the end. I will not explain my actions. The only person I answer to is Lord Diavolo. Whether you believe them correct or not, I am not embellishing the truth nor am I trying to hide from it. Knowing all of that, do you want me to continue?”

“... Yes. I would like to know the truth,” Mc answered confidently, though the fact he was still angry put her on edge. She knew he wasn’t angry at her at least.

The eldest, having calmed down enough to revert out of his demon form, came over and sat behind his desk. Satan came and sat next to her, earning a look from Lucifer, “You’re going to stay?”

“She is my guest.”

Lucifer raised his eyebrows, but said nothing, turning his attention back to Mc, “Have you heard about the Great Celestial War?” Mc nodded, and he continued, “No doubt you’ve heard their version of what happened. Probably talks about me and my brothers rampaging around the Celestial Realm until they finally cast us out?” Lucifer looked to her for confirmation.

“More or less,” Mc conceded.

“I am sure they make me out to be a villain in every way?”

“They say before you became angry, you were the model angel.”

“That is… interesting to know. Thank you for that. Now, where to begin?... Do you know anything about our sister?” Mc shook her head no, and Lucifer sighed angrily, “To think they just… Lilith came into my little makeshift family with Beel and Belphie. They were almost triplets in a sense of the word. Beel was the sun, Belphie the moon and Lilith the stars, though I would argue she shined the most brightly out of them. She was... angelic. They should really point to her as the model angel. She was everything an angel should and could be. Though they were all very close, once Beel made himself my bodyguard, Belphie and Lilith spent a lot of time together. Belphie had a habit of going off the the human realm whenever he could, which was not seen as a good thing, though he knew how to keep himself unattached to the humans he happened to meet, so no one could really do much more than grumble. That is, until Lilith started going down him.

Her heart was so pure and full of love, she ended up falling in love with one of the humans she met. Belphie tried to talk her out of it, but it was no use. When the rumors started, I asked both of them what was going on. From what they both said, it was love at first sight. Though I was furious, I went down myself to meet the man in question, and found myself unable to criticize her. He was everything I could have wanted for my sister.

Unfortunately, he was mortal and he came down with a serious illness. Lilith was devastated. We all tried to tell her this was a good thing. He was a good enough person he would probably join us in the Celestial Realm. I even spoke with my father and got permission for her to lead him to the Celestial Realm when he passed. She wouldn’t listen however. He had told her all about his dreams for the future and she couldn’t let his life end. SO she concocted a plan. I wish she would’ve told me about it earlier, but I only found out about it after the deed had been done. She took a Tarel fruit and fed it to him,” Mc gasped despite herself. That fruit was precious. Michael himself wasn’t allowed any unless Father approved of it. Lucifer didn’t even acknowledge the outburst, “He recovered, obviously, but the damage was irreversible. As punishment for her sins, my father decided she would be put on trial, though we all knew the outcome, “ as did Mc. Either death or complete exile. They were essentially one-and-the-same.

“I had… many issues with the Celestial Realm and how it was run. How it probably still is. I was able to put those all aside however for the sake of my family and my position. This however,” and Mc could see the rage that still filled his eyes, “I could never forgive. Not if it meant the death of our dear baby sister. All my brothers felt the same way, especially Beel and Belphie. We all decided we were going to do something about it. Despite what anyone might say, I did try to go the “correct way” in the beginning. Supplications to my father. Speaking to others that might listen. I think we even tried a petition at one point. Very few would listen. I think there was a level of envy from most of the other angels. They saw in Lilith all their shortcomings, and so they had latched onto the one “bad” thing anyone could ever remember her doing.

“Tensions came to a head one day when I told my father and Michael I would do everything in my power to keep Lilith safe. Michael then looked me dead in the eyes and told me my sister was going to be punished, even if he had to do it himself. I left that meeting trembling with rage, and that’s when I knew I would wage war against anyone who tried to hurt my family, even if that meant fighting my father myself. I flew into the sky that day and sent my declaration of war over the entire Celestial Realm.

“Some came to our aid, but most sat on the opposing side. The war was long and bloody. Many that had flocked to our aid perished, low ranked angels who didn’t stand a chance against the likes of Michael and his bow. On what would come to be known as the last day of the war, we had so few left, my precious family had to be put near the front of the battle. Everything was going fine, and we were actually winning when I saw Michael emerge from the enemy forces. He had spotted Lilith, standing with Beel and Belphie, and I could see his intentions before anyone else. I tried my hardest to reach the three youngest, but a large crowd of angels came to attack me. Whether it was his plan all along to keep me tied up with so many, I don’t know. All I do know is that by the time I had fought off all my attackers it was too late. He had strung three arrows pointing them at my family. They all knew it was coming too, and I watched the panic set in to all three of them, with Beel in the middle. He chose to save Belphie. Lilith went down with an arrow to the wing, which was then followed by three more arrows shot by others, one to her other wing, one to the stomach, and then one to the chest. She looked over to me as she started falling and I…” Lucifer’s voice broke and he had to take a second to compose himself, “Well, let’s just say I will never forget it. After the shock had worn off, I flew after her as she fell. I tried to shoot down as fast as I could hoping to grab her, but it was no use. She crashed into the Devildom, wings singed body broken.

“I didn’t tell anyone about that day for a long time. Eventually I did tell Barbatos and Lord Diavolo who Lilith’s murderer was, which is why Barbatos knew who to send you to for answers. The fact Michael wouldn’t come clean about the whole thing, and that they’ve essentially erased her from history… It makes my blood boil. To see Diavolo acting so chummy with my sister’s murderer…” Mc could see, through the film of tears blocking her vision, Lucifer’s horns starting to emerge again.

Without thinking, she crossed over to him and hugged him, openly weeping. The thought was appalling. Whenever people spoke about the Great Celestial War, they always spoke of Michael’s brilliant tactical genius. They spoke of how he’d helped crush the rebellion, though they had never gone into detail. She now knew why. Lucifer was taken aback for a second by the behavior, but eventually hugged her back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

So, yeah. That happened.

Likes, shares and comments all vm appreciated.

If y’all got the reference in the beginning, I applaud you and offer the chance to quote her magnificence in the comments or you could send me asks and I will reply with another quote (please take me up on this!)

Part Seventeen

#obm #obey me!#obey me #obey me satan #obey me swd #obey me satan/mc #obey me lucifer #obey me michael #obey me lilith #obey me angst #obey me celestial war #obey me hol #obey me beel

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justthehiddleswrites · 4 years

Text

Forever Hold Your Peace | Tom Hiddleston x Cumberbatch!Reader | Chapter 1 | The Break Up

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Cumberbatch!Reader

Summary: Tom Hiddleston dated Benedict's little sister (reader) back at Cambridge, after a bad breakup Tom and Benedict are now friends. The reader is now engaged to an American who Benedict does not trust. Ben turns to his good friend Tom to help break up the wedding and win back the girl he never truly got over.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, slapping, cursing.

Benedict glanced at the name of his cell phone screen and rolled his eyes.

“Hello?” he said in a flat tone.

“Hello, Benny boo.” the giddy voice bubbled up on the other side of the line.

“What can you want at…” He glanced at a nearby clock. “five in the morning? Shouldn’t you be off somewhere sleeping off a hangover?”

“Can’t a sister want to talk to the older, wiser brother?” you commented on the other side.

“No.” Benedict deadpanned. “Not at 5 a.m. on a Saturday. You want something. Or rather, you need something. So why don’t you save us both some time and just tell what it is.”

His tone grew more and more irritable. You knew your brother was not a morning person, but this news was too big to wait any longer.

“So I met a guy…” you started.

“Another one? Honestly, I don’t need to hear about all your conquests at Cambridge. We’re close but your sex life—”

“It’s not like that! And ew…” you interrupted. “And this guy is not just a conquest. It’s serious.”

“Just like you thought with James, and Charles, and Stephen…” Benedict rattled off names of ex-boyfriends like a grocery list.

“I get the point, so stop. Now if you would listen for a minute, I can tell about Tom.”

He slumped into his chair, knowing he wasn’t getting out of the conversation soon. “Go on.” he gestured in the air not that you could see it.

“So he is studying the Classics.”

“Dead languages, that’s a useful life skill.”

You scowled at your phone. “Who is talking here?”

“He went to Eton.”

“Stuffy and pretentious.”

“Says the man who attend Harrow.”

“And he is an actor.”

“WHAT?!” Benedict yelled into the phone. “You of all people should know better than to date an actor. They are insufferable.”

“Says the actor.”

“I’m your brother I don’t count. So how did we meet this actor, which means unemployed student?”

“At a play.”

“Naturally.”

“He is charming and polite and handsome. And I want you to meet him.”

“Absolutely not.”

“At graduation. He’s graduating this year. It would mean a lot to me.”

“Nope.”

“Please…” you whined and Benedict swore he heard the pout through the phone. “… you can pick the restaurant for dinner.” You attempted to appeal to your brother’s voracious appetite.

“Even that curry place you hate?” he asked with hope in his voice.

“Even the curry place I hate.” you parroted back in defeat.

“Then it is a date.”

“Thank you. And Ben… be nice.”

“I make no promises. I hate him already.”

“Under different circumstances, the two of you could be friends.”

“I doubt that.”

“Just keep an open mind.”

“Fine.” he huffed into the phone. “Send me the date and I will be there.”

“Thanks, bro. I will talk to you soon.”

“Bye.”

Benedict ended the call and slumped even further in the chair, covering his face with his hands. He loved you more than anything in the world as his baby sister but he sometimes wondered in your taste in men. He hoped this time he was wrong.

Three Days Before Graduation

“This isn’t working out between us.” Tom started as he took a bite of the burger.

“I beg your pardon?” you asked as your jaw dropped open. “Are you… are you breaking up with me?”

Tom ran his hands through his messy blond curls. His blue eyes darted around the pub. “Well…” his lips pulled into a thin line as he chooses his next words. “… yes. I’m going off to RADA and you will be abroad for your third year. Long distance never works. I need to focus on my acting on my career, I don’t have time for a girlfriend. I mean did you expect this would last past graduation?”

“Yes!” you screeched, not caring if you made a scene.

“Keep your voice down.” Tom hissed as he leaned across the table.

“Is that why you brought here, so I wouldn’t make a scene!?” you lowered your voice only slightly.

Tom reached for your hand but you pulled away. “Come on, that’s not why. I thought we could enjoy a nice dinner out… as friends.”

Tom gave you one of his killer smiles. The smile that until thirty seconds ago would have made you melt in your seat. But all you saw was a smug grin and white hot flames of anger.

CRACK! You reared back and slapped Tom hard on the cheek. He sat stunned holding his face in silence.

“WE ARE NOT FUCKING FRIENDS, YOU BASTARD!” you threw your napkin on the table and stormed out of the restaurant, leaving Tom there with the rest of the patrons glaring at him.

You dialed your brother once you got home.

“Dinner is off!” you sobbed into the phone.

“What? How?” Ben tried to decipher what happened between your sobbing and sniffling.

“He… broke… up… me…!” you managed squeak out between gulps of air. You collapsed into sobs once again.

“He who?”

“Tom!” you snapped.

“What? But everything was going so well.” He resisted the urge to say “I told you so” but only because you sobbed so loud into the phone.

“Apparently not. He said something about wanting to be a serious actor and needing to focus when he goes to RADA.”

“He clearly has poor taste and is ill educated. Everyone knows LAMDA is better.” He joked trying to get you to laugh.

“Not helping.” you gave a halfhearted chuckle through stifled sobs. “I thought he was the one. Is it me? Why do I always pick the wrong guys?”

“It’s not you, these guys do not realize what they are missing out on. As for picking the wrong guys, if you just listened to your big brother…” his voice trailed off.

“And here is the ‘I told you so’.” you snorted, your tears drying and sobs subsiding.

“Did I say those words?” Benedict feigned mock hurt. "Those words came out of your mouth, not mine.”

“Hahaha.” You gave a joyless laugh.

“See? You are already laughing. The healing process has begun.”

“Hardly.” you wiped your nose with your sleeve.

“How about I speed that process along with coming up a day early and taking you to that diner place like?”

“You would do that for me?” your voice perked up.

“I would do anything for you. You’re family. That includes beating up the rat bastard that broke your heart. You never told me his last name. How else am I supposed to exact revenge?”

“It’s a ridiculous last name.”

“More ridiculous than Cumberbatch?”

“Hiddleston. His name is Tom Hiddleston.”

That name seared upon Benedict's brain for the next eight years.

2009

Even after several years in the industry, Benedict wasn’t sure if he loved or hated these kind events. A bunch of young actors grouped together like they were all friends. His agent and publicist insisted he needed to attend. This event was no exception, a gathering of upcoming British actors. He tugged at his jacket out of nerves.

“Is this seat taken?” a deep baritone asked. Benedict turned to catch a tall man with messy blond hair looking at him with questioning blue eyes.

“Please.” Ben pulled the seat away from the table and the man took a seat. “Better to grab one now than have to stand all night.”

“Right.” the blond man commented. Ben studied the gentleman next to him with narrowed eyes. “I don’t believe we’ve met before, name’s Benedict.” He extended his hand.

“Tom.” he took Ben’s hand and gripped it with enthusiasm. “I don’t think we have. I haven’t gone to many of these events yet.”

“A few tips, drink slowly, find a seat early, and use hand sanitizer.” Ben leaned in as he took a long sip of his drink.

Tom laughed. “I will remember that. Now that I look at you, there is something familiar, did we go to school together?”

“Harrow?” Ben offered.

“Eton. Cambridge?” Tom offered.

“Manchester. How about drama school?”

“RADA.”

“LAMDA.”

Tom smiled. “You must just have one of those faces.”

“Must be.”

Before long, they were laughing and chatting like they were old friends. Tom raised his glass.

“To new friends.” He offered in a toast.

“To future costars.” Ben countered.

They clinked their glasses and drank. A young woman came up and tapped Tom on his shoulder.

“Mr. Hiddleston…” Ben stiffened in his chair. “… you are need outside for a moment.”

“Of course.” Tom stood and gave Benedict a nod before walking off. “Save my seat.”

“I’ll do my best.” Benedict choked out.

Benedict’s eyes narrowed as Tom’s lean frame walked. This is the man who broke his sister’s heart. After about ten minutes, Ben downed the rest of his watered down cocktail and stood from the table to find Tom.

He entered the empty lobby and moved along to see if Tom had ducked into a side room. Benedict rationalized he just wanted to talk to Tom. But Benedict’s hands fisted at his side told another story.

A door opened at the end of the hall, Tom stepped out. In several long strides, Benedict caught up with Tom. In a single motion, he pushed the taller man against the wall.

“What the hell?” Tom exclaimed as he pushed back against Ben’s grip.

Although Tom outmatched Benedict in weight and height, he could not overcome Ben’s anger fueled strength.

“Does the name Cumberbatch mean anything to you?”

Tom tilted his head down, searching. “No… oh… “ His face grew in recognition. "Are you related to her somehow?”

Ben pushed him against the wall, digging his forearm against Tom’s throat. “She is my sister.”

Tom threw his arms up in defeat. “I didn’t know, I swear, mate. Listen, I acted like a jerk back then, I could have handled things better.”

Benedict stared down Tom. Tom gave a smile to Ben to diffuse the situation. “Bygones?” Tom offered.

Benedict contemplated letting him go. But the image of his sister absolutely crushed flashed in his brain. Before he knew what he was doing, he punched Tom square on the nose. Not enough to break any bones but Tom saw stars.

“Bygones.” Benedict muttered as he walked away.

Tom stood still, regaining his bearings. He left the event thinking the Cumberbatch family had a mean right hook.

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston fluff #tom hiddleston imagine #tom hiddleston angst #forever hold your peace

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suitofvibraniumarmor · 4 years

Text

If You Just Realize

Part Four: Full Bloom

Summary: Concerned about losing Milena or anyone else, Sebastian makes a desperate request of his friend. Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Reader Word Count: 1905 Series Warnings: Death, angst, sadness. Lots of creative licensing, I’m sure. Chapter Warnings: Bit of a cliffhanger. Square Filled: This entire series will fill my realized feelings square for @marvelfluffbingo. A/N: I’ve much enjoyed writing this series, and I hope all of you enjoy reading it! The tag list is open; requests to be added can be done so here. There are bits and pieces of Romanian throughout the series, mostly from Google Translate and the few things I’ve picked up as I learn the language.

This part wasn’t scheduled till tomorrow buttttt I have no chill so ... Happy Reading!

Series Masterlist

“Oprește cu agitația.”

Sebastian did his best to heed Y/N’s warning, but he couldn’t stop fidgeting. He was too nervous about what was going to happen and what he would be told when he walked into the lawyer’s office. Fortunately, he only had to wait a few more minutes before Philip Hobb, his longtime lawyer, stuck his head out of his office and beckoned Sebastian in.

“Please, have a seat,” he said, motioning to the chairs in front of the desk. “I’m sorry for the wait, telephone call went long. I’m so sorry to hear about Irina, Seb. How’s the family holding up?”

Sebastian looked at Y/N, then back to Philip. “We’re doing the best we can. Philip, this is my very good friend, Y/N Y/L/N. Y/N, Philip Hobb.”

The two of them shook hands, and then Philip got down to business. “I’ve already been in touch with the Hills’ lawyer. They are seeking joint custody, as you expected. But that’s not what Irina wanted.”

Sebastian shook his head. “No. Unfortunately, there was never anything on paper, but she had a conversation with my mother about what to do with Milena if anything ever happened to her. Milena’s father signed his rights away when she was born, but his parents chose to stay involved in her life. Irina was always open to that, and I, of course, don’t want to keep them from their granddaughter.”

Philip sat back in his chair, folding his hands over his abdomen. “I want to be sure, before we go through all of this, that you’re not trying to hold on to your sister by holding on to Milena. You can’t bring Irina back, and there’s a potential here for a little girl to go through a lot of hard things for you to only want to keep whatever piece of Irina you can grasp onto.”

Y/N reached out and squeezed Sebastian’s hand. Philip was speaking as a friend — one who was capable of speaking truths no one else could. She saw Sebastian’s eyes glaze over but he didn’t hold long to her hand.

“I just want to do what Irina would have wanted me to do.”

Phillip went back to the notes on his desk. “Okay then. Let’s lock down some particulars. I’ll get it written up and sent to their lawyer, we’ll go from there. Who has Milena right now?”

“After the funeral, we decided to let Milena decide where she wanted to go. She opted to stay with my parents.”

Y/N added, “But I think it’s because she knew Sebastian was going to be there. Maybe I’m biased, though.”

“That’s good to know,” Philip smiled. “I don’t mean to get personal, but are you two …?”

They both chuckled, used to the question by now. Sebastian clarified that they were only friends but also that the speculation was familiar.

“Guess we’ll cross that off as a tactic for our case then,” Philip teased.

Y/N exchanged a glance with Sebastian. “I’m sorry, what do you mean by that?”

“Oh, nothing serious, of course — really, it was a joke. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. Sometimes, like in the case of a single guy who wants to take custody of a little girl, having a woman around regularly helps. It’s nothing really, we’ve got plenty to help us out here.”

Philip moved the conversation on then, but the thought lingered in both Y/N’s and Sebastian’s mind well past the end of the meeting.

After the meeting, Y/N went back to the Waldorf. She was checking out the next day anyway, since her stay had become indefinite, and Sebastian had convinced her to stay in his guest bedroom for the time being. He went back to his parents’ house to retrieve their things. He would update Georgeta and Anthony on the situation and check in on Milena.

And Y/N would have time to think about some things.

Yes, she had wanted more than ever to pull Sebastian as close as she could over the last few days — since the moment he had called and told her that Irina was gone. She had missed him, so much, in the months since they had last seen each other. She appreciated how comfortable they were with each other, that they could show affection without the gestures being perceived the wrong way.

Except …

Philip Hobb’s question about whether they were together or not, and the teasing that followed, had put wheels into motion in her mind. Sebastian was an attractive man; she found him to be more handsome than most. He was kind, loyal, caring, and he made her laugh. She could be herself around him.

“That doesn’t mean anything,” Y/N chided herself as she packed the last few of her belongings into her rolling carry-on. “Your emotions are running high because you want to help him. Sebastian is a good friend, we’re very close. That’s it, case closed.”

By the time she reached Sebastian’s apartment, she had almost convinced herself of that. Scolding herself for reading more into their relationship than what was obviously there, she let herself in with the copy of the key Sebastian had given her when they returned from their coffee date that morning, unpacked a few things, and laid down to take a nap. Once she was rested, she would have more energy to convince herself that she was being overly-emotional and needed to get it together.

The meeting with the lawyer took a lot out of Sebastian, but there was no avoiding his parents’ questions when he returned. He explained that Philip was going to do his best to get him at least residential and primary custody of Milena, if not full custody with visitations for the Hills.

“It’s not going to be pretty, I would imagine,” Sebastian sighed, rubbing his eyes. “Is the little one napping? I might crash out with her for a while before I meet up with Y/N again later.”

Anthony shook his head. “She’s with the Hills. Since she’s been here a couple of days, they asked to see her.”

That was well and fair, but Sebastian admitted to himself that he was afraid, for some reason, that the Hills would never give her back. In the same way he would never see Irina again, what if he never saw Milena again?

Get out of your head, he scolded himself. Hadn’t Philip specifically warned him that he couldn’t fight for custody of Milena only to hang on to Irina? No, it wasn’t that. No one, not even Milena, would ever replace the bond he had with his little sister. That didn’t mean, though, that he wanted to lose anyone else.

As he gathered his things and made sure all of Y/N’s were packed into her bag, he pushed out all thoughts of losing Milena. That made room for thoughts about his friend, though, and the things Philip had said during the meeting.

Y/N had been his first phone call after he got off the phone with his mother that day. He had felt like he was drowning — he was still only treading the surface, occasionally coming up for air — and she was the thing that kept him fighting. He knew that he would push through for his mother and for his niece, but Y/N was the push he needed to put in more effort than simply going through the motions. She was the person he could lean on when it felt like everyone else was leaning on him; she was home when he felt like he had nowhere else to run.

“Keeping thinking like that, you’re going to ruin the best friendship you’ve got,” he mumbled to himself as he shouldered both of their bags.

But the idea that had seeded in his mind and sprouted up once before grew more. Shaking his head, Sebastian headed to bid his parents see-you-later. He would nap at home.

Remember when we first met And everything was still a bet In love’s game You would call; I’d call you back And then I’d leave A message On your answering Machine

Sebastian smiled as he entered his apartment. He could hear music coming from the kitchen, could smell whatever Y/N was cooking. She was singing along to the words, an older song that she had overplayed over the years. He didn’t mind.

After dropping the bags in their respective rooms, he went to the kitchen, and greeted her. She turned to smile at him before going back to the rice she was cooking on the stove.

“Hey, I wondered when you were gonna be home! I thought maybe you were avoiding me.”

Sebastian shook his head and leaned on the counter near where she was standing. “Not at all. Had to catch my parents up with everything, took the long way home to do some thinking. Milena is back with the Hills. They asked to see her.”

Y/N turned down the heat on the rice and put a lid on the pan. She took one good look at Sebastian and threw her arms around his neck. She held on tight, and Sebastian didn’t hesitate to hold her back even tighter.

“Milena’s going to come back. You said yourself that if you have custody of her, you’ll let the Hills see her. You’re not going to lose her, they’re not going to take her. That doesn’t do them any good.” She kissed his cheek. “Everything is going to be okay, Seb. Maybe it’s not going to be easy. But it’s going to be okay.”

She stepped away to tend to the rice, but Sebastian held her tighter. She resumed her embrace, nuzzling against his neck and not pulling away until he was ready.

When supper was ready, they ate together, mostly in silence. Y/N didn’t want to push any issues that were already sensitive for Sebastian, and he had far too much on his mind to talk about much of anything. They cleaned up together, watched a little television, then Y/N excused herself to go to bed.

“Don’t stay up too late, all right?” she warned him, kissing his cheek. “You’ve had a crazy few days. If you don’t get some sleep, you’re not going to be able to keep up with Milena when you get her.”

Sebastian nodded. “I’ll go to bed soon, I promise.”

But it was hours past midnight and he was still sitting on the floor in front of the couch, not even aware of what was playing on the television. He was staring at the picture that had been taken a minute or two after Irina had told him she was pregnant with Milena. He had been staring at that picture for … he didn’t even know how long it had been at this point. Maybe if he stared at it long enough, he’d find some answers to the thoughts racing around in his head. Another hour passed and found him still in the same place he had been for most of the evening.

“Seb? You okay?” Y/N was standing a few feet away, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

Sebastian opened his mouth several times before he looked again at the picture. He thought about Irina, he thought about Milena, he thought about Y/N. He could only think of one thing to say, so he let the words roll off his tongue.

“Y/N, would — will you marry me?”

AllOfTheThings: @captain-s-rogers @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked @hurricanerin @horsesandbandsforlife @im-not-an-armrest-im-short @captain-rogers-beard @shynara51 @sea040561 @pinknerdpanda @xtina2191 @jackryanplz @beakami @heartsaved @fullprunerebelstatesman @blackwidowismyhomegirl @averyrogers83 @jennmurawski13

IYJR: @elsatxx @tanelle83 @amanda-teaches @etherealwaifgoddess @kmuir1 @ntlmundy @jayankles @rebekahdawkins @denise1605 @rhadigen @peace-love-hobbitness @itsallyscorner @mizzzpink @auspiciousharriet @the-murder-strut-murdered-me @learisa

#marvelfluffbingo2020 #sebastian stan #reader insert #sebastian x reader #sebastian stan x reader #early post #ahead of schedule #look at me go

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thessaliah · 4 years

Text

The reunion with someone you love, thanking someone who was unrewarded, saving of the pitiful who cry for help: universal themes in events and their connection to Roman and Olga

Benienma's charming New Year event ended and there were lots of good moments. Specially for Fionn fans who finally got their favorite to take the spotlight. Fionn is in Ireland, the equivalent of King Arthur, just like Cu Chulainn is the equivalent of Herakles, so the way FGO has handled him was horrible so far but he came around in this event and got impressive feats on his own. But I won't talk about Fionn, others have done before this. When this event dropped years ago, I and a lot of japanese players felt certain uncanny emotional parallel with Beni's old man and Mash's situation with Roman. A man who never knew happiness for themselves and always thought about the happiness of others, cloaking themselves in big lies, misunderstood alive but grieved in death. Who still died smiling because others were saved and happy, yet still they want to thank them and set things right, even if it's an impossible wish.

Mash is the one who speaks up, while she doesn’t overtly voice her parallel, we know it exists.

If I am to only fulfill my role between larger gears, There isn’t much to worry over, If “only” is good enough.

I’d like to try living, in the time I was granted. I don’t fight to suffer, Just like you said. Please, let the gentle rain fall upon me, upon our will. When I depart, I’d like for you to quietly see me off.

When I was done crying, I could no longer hear your voice. That’s how you urge me on, I see, telling me that there’s no road back.

I was born into this world to live. There is no other definite reason. I don’t need a mission or a meaning. I will live! I don’t want to Let my memories with you end in sorrow. Just like you said, The conclusion can be repainted, always.

Cut for length.

This is the song for her mental and emotional state after what she lost at the end of part 1 (Roman). It’s called Blank Space, it shows that, like Benienma, she’s continued her duty for the chance to see Roman again. This post isn’t about Roman, but also about Olga, since the prologue of Part 2 there are two heavy losses that weight Mash’s heart (also the player but Mash’s more vocal about it): first is her guilt of being unable to save Olgamarie (which was discussed and was the reason they went to save Goredolf) and the other is her sorrow with the separation with Roman whom she didn’t even properly thank for everything he did for her (was hinted how she is comforted by his room in Missions before being tore apart from it in the prologue where she had a breakdown and refused to leave). Events in FGO sometimes don’t exist in isolation, they connect to major plot arcs: Ooku continues CCC and is about the major plot of the Beasts, for example, Oniland and Christmas 2020 with Karna supply dragon lore which surely will be important in Britain Lostbelt or when Arthur confronts the Beast of Revelations. Plenty of events to build the Greek Pantheon and characters. As such, there are these small emotional catharses of events that are sometimes connected to the main characters (Mash and Guda) own desires and wishes. The desire of Guda meeting the one(s) he loved and lost again is ever-present, even in interludes:

(Abigail interlude)

The person singled out for this is always Roman. Aphrodite's song illusion in Guda's heart led toward Roman and is a mere possibility he was around (even without a blank without body, even without understanding what he's saying) what broke in Guda's defenses. It was always when they gave in about the doctor when the loop was allowed to continue. It was also the source of strength to break out of this. Because Guda can't face Roman unless they are proud of their answer and path, in death or life, they can't thematically meet again (exceptional events aside) until Guda is satisfied with their actions. Events sometimes feature this Roman-loss theme, or rather about being reunited with someone you separate from and lost what is the conclusion of one's journey: Sitonai reunites with that Berserker in Oniland, Beni with the old man, and there's that movie singularity that was all about a man who was misunderstood and made a villain by people who after his death realised their mistake and understood he loved his foster daughter's future and would protect it with his life. Mash was personally touched by that script (so was Roman, who was included by Nasu changing the original novel that was going to be published, to help the cast reshoot the movie for Mash's sake) and wanted to ensure to preserve it, the end of the movie is the daughter living well while the father is watching over, apparently alive, but with a different appearance who one day might meet his daughter again.

The other point of emotional struggle is to help or save those who pitifully want to be saved. While the reunion is nearly always involving a man (sometimes a father figure or someone who was a guardian), the saving part is almost always about a girl, usually, a girl who is doing evil actions and needs to be put down for the sake of others but Guda and Mash (if she’s around) refuse. Imaginary Scramble features two of them: "Gogh" (Clytie) and Yang Guifei. The Olga factor goes tacit in all but the male exception, Goredolf was a man, but the Olga connection was brought up explicitly in his case. This plot-line might have started with Ereshkigal Christmas event and Salem (on that note, Abigail's search and longing for her dead friend also connect and echos with Guda's losses). This started after part 1, because during Observer, those who were twisted or darkened or made villains were disposed of instead of saved (Ushiwakamaru in Babylonia for example, or all the Servants affected by madness in Orleans). Because it was not important during part 1, but it is for part 2.

(in a nonsubtle way).

IMO, the Greek Lostbelt was also a climax to voice what Mash’s (and Guda’s) wants. Mash finally breaks out and says she wants to meet Roman again and thank him for everything after the Person of Chaldea appears. They aren't speculating about his identity or his warnings, rather they are emotional about how he can't be the Doctor because his eyes are different and wish to meet him again in an emotional My Room scene. Olympus was for Olga, after U Olgamarie appears and they are left confused by her actions, that is Olga but she's their enemy, a Beast, but still they want to help her. Because that's always been one of their biggest regrets. Greek Lostbelt kicks the course of their personal emotional catharsis arc: Olga is there, but she's an enemy; an ally who resembles Roman appears but he's not their doctor. Man of Chaldea and U-Olga have the same function: to be different kinds of emotional hurdles Mash and Guda face, aside from their role in the plot (obviously they are more important than just angsty plot devices). So it begins their personal goal: meet Roman again, save Olga. Atlantis and Olympus also have a little of both. Olympus with that dream which had an emphasis Guda's feelings toward Roman, among all their losses, while Atlantis with the subplot of Corday and the nanomachines (which the priestess witnessed).

To wrap up, this is merely tangential, but this scene was translated at last, so I might give context to those who don't know it:

This weaver is "Miss Crane", who appears in Waltz in the Moonlight Lostroom, a special game released on anniversary with the plot by Nasu. Just to show how tied is Roman's story and Benienma's event narrative. The doctor created the Moonlight Room, that became a harmless singularity that exists linking past and future, similar to the Inn. Crane manages it by his request and one of Crane's goal is to reward him, even with the little she could do for him. Roman gets the broadcast of the Ball Crane arranged for him in the game’s ending. This foreshadowing that leads back to Roman was included in the same chapter Beni tells us her backstory and her wish to thank and meet that man again. And she did, in the very end, as a personal reward for her efforts, and his.

(Fate/Grand Order is a story of many meetings and departures, and meetings again).

Note that because I interpret that Mash’s and Guda’s emotional catharsis arc require: needing to help Olga (to exercise their regrets), and meeting Roman in the end (as reward), it doesn’t mean that Olga or Roman will be alive or playable in the end. Olga could sacrifice herself as Corday or Ophelia did after being saved (her choice is going to be important, because it seems build up for her to finally make a stand she wants), Roman can be met in a death-state or in the Lostroom/Moonlight room as connection of past and future. It’s just that those things needed to happen for the emotional closure and they have had a built up before the Greek Lostbelt.

#fate grand order #meta #olgamarie animusphere #romani archaman #lostbelt spoilers

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fuwafuwamedb · 4 years

Text

Salvaged from Wreckage (Cu Chulainn, Rin Tohsaka)

She’d thought she would die.

The moment that Shinji had approached, his intent sinking into the very depths of her bones, she’d been sure she wouldn’t survive the night. She’d been sure that she was going to die, that there would be no salvation. She’d felt Shinji’s hands touch her legs, feeling her thighs above knee highs and below her skirt’s protections. She could see the gleam in his eyes, his face moving closer.

Then there had been a flash of a fist.

The boy was flying against one of the walls. A flash of red was coming, landing near her legs. The rope clinging to her legs felt loose, but she couldn’t breathe. The flash of a smile came her way, grim and pleased at the same time. The eyes, red as the blade in his hands, gleamed as the man stood over her. Her mind wasn’t connecting.

She couldn’t comprehend what was happening around her, not entirely. She could see Kirei coming into the room. She could see his lips moving, but Lancer was swinging his hair as he moved to stand before her. She could feel the warmth radiating off him, like a furnace to the cold she’d felt seep so deeply into her.

A blade slammed home into him.

Air was gone.

Hope burst into a thousand shards that jabbed at her heart.

She could see the blade dripping blood onto the floor as Shinji moved to get closer. She could see the amusement dancing in Kirei’s eyes as he moved to get closer.

Then movement.

God, but Lancer was such a damned hard man to kill. He never faltered. Never failed.

The moment they counted him out, just as she had before, he was back. He was up and he was in their face. The blade was singing in the air as it moved. The heat coming off him was coming in waves, filling the room with an energy that left her grinning. There was nothing else she could do but grin at the sight.

He slammed the priest against the wall, his blade stabbing him right back.

“If I died that easily, I wouldn’t be much of a heroic spirit.”

No, he wouldn’t have.

That was a servant.

Loyal. Dependable. Enduring.

She watched Shinji approach. She watched him get prodded and flee. The laugh that came out of her was only paused when she found the man approaching her.

Her eyes met his, the pounding in her chest picking up the pace.

“It looks like you’re in a bad spot.”

“Lancer.”

She went to thank him, but her eyes landed on the wound he sported once more. The elation dropped.

Mana was coming off. There was a fleeting feeling to him, even as he cut her binds and freed her hands. He moved to sit nearby, landing hard against the floor before he spun his lance to rest against his shoulder.

“Get out while you can,” he warned her. “I’m gonna burn that priest and myself out of this world. A gal like you needs to be gettin’ back to the war. I have a feeling you’ll win.”

“…Lancer.”

“Get movin’,” he warned her again.

She couldn’t.

The man was bleeding out. The fires were beginning to build, spreading forth around them and heading towards the direction of the priest’s stabbed body. She could see the mana breaking apart, the servant before her vanishing.

“It’s a shame,” he tells her. “I could have gotten a confident master like you.”

He could have.

She could have also gotten a good servant-

Rin paused.

She had no one. When she left this room, she would have to make Emiya come back to heel at her feet or find another servant. She would have to have a servant to help her win…

Her eyes fell to the man with his eyes closed, his head was leaned back against the pallet of wood behind him.

Each step brings her closer to the flames and the slowly vanishing body of the servant before her. She can feel the floor meet her knees. Her hands are reaching out as the man murmurs.

“Summon me again when you’re a little older.”

Rin shakes her head, moving in closer and holding his face a little more. Her head tilting, eyes closing as she closes the space between them. The fire is kissing at her skin, warming her as she feels her mana flowing forth to the man. She pushes more into him, feeling him moving to hold her back. A shiver is running through her. A current is running through her veins.

The stone floor meets her back, the sound of the man’s weapon skittering to the floor can be heard before she feels his hands running down her person.

“You’re supposed to leave.”

“I-I can’t.”

Her eyes open, looking up at the red eyes glinting as he looks down at her.

She can’t leave here without a servant. She won’t last a moment out there. She is surrounded by those who would betray her. No one had come to rescue her, only him.

“I told your little friend that I wouldn’t take you from him,” Lancer reminds her.

“I don’t even know what that means, but you need a master. I need a servant.” Rin holds onto his shoulders, feeling a shiver run down her spine as she stares up at him.

“It ain’t safe here.”

“Then as my servant, you should get me out of here.”

His mouth came down hungrily, setting her body ablaze in more of this feeling. Those arms of his are pulling her up from the fire’s path, bringing her close.

The words of the summoning are on her lips, welcomed a moment later by his own response.

His lips press to her neck as she feels the room moving. Or rather, the man is carrying her towards the door, bringing out into the world.

The sound of fighting can be heard.

She’s not sure what’s going on, but she’s outside before she can look into what’s going on. Her head feels woozy. Her body feels weak.

“We’re leaving,” he murmurs. “We’re going home, master.”

The sound of the title for her seems to hang in the air, charged with the sound of excitement. She can feel his hand delved deep into her hair and holding onto her back carefully. Her legs are wrapped around his waist.

Rin moves her hands carefully to hold his shoulders, looking back as the building behind them fades away.

They’re still in a war.

Nothing has changed in that regard.

However…

The air whips passed as Lancer takes a leap to one of the fences nearby. She can feel him holding her waist as they continue off through the night. She can feel the wind whipping passed her face, making her shiver and hold onto the man tighter.

His warmth envelopes her so nicely.

His lips pressing to her temple a few minutes before she finds herself in front of her house.

“Let’s get you inside.”

“You knew where I lived.”

How had he known?

“My former master wanted to have me keep an eye on you. I stayed off the premises and kept watch. I was only within view of the place, never inside.”

He sounds far too animated about things though.

She can feel him behind her still as she opens the door. A hand carefully leads her in before she finds the door closed and bolted.

They’re home.

They’re home, but it’s different.

She can’t figure out what to do now. He’s here. She’s here. She’s contracted to him. He’s checking the windows and moving around the house.

But she doesn’t know what to do.

Archer would move to make her tea, complaining to ease things from the battle. Lancer checks the house before coming back to find her still in the doorway. The man’s armor dissipates, leaving him in a casual looking white shirt and dark pants.

He’s… different.

The thought had never struck her as much as it did now. Archer and Emiya had both been similar. She had control and she could feel that she could take them, if need be. They could throw a comment or two back, but she never felt like she was really testing her limits or around something foreign with them. There was nothing new about their presence.

Lancer, on the other hand, was tall and muscled. His blue hair was long and he brushed it back lightly before moving over to her side.

“Come on. You’re still in shock from things. We should have you rest up for a while.”

“I-I’m fine.”

The man’s face came too close.

“I-I am!”

“You’re not fine,” Lancer murmurs. “You’re gawking at me. We’ll get you a blanket and something warm for the gullet before settling in. The priest is dead and that former servant of yours is probably gone as well. We’ll investigate later.”

“You think he’s gone?”

“Probably. A guy can’t last without a master for long.” The man shrugs again, “we’ll investigate in the morning, but tonight is celebratory.”

“Oh?”

There was no missing the fangs in his grin, the light that came to those red eyes as he glanced down at her and practically glowed.

Rin found herself under a heated gaze, her thoughts washing away into obscurity.

“Of course, Rin. I got one hell of a master tonight and it didn’t involve dragging my legs over coals and fire to get. I’m damned lucky for once.”

“Y-yes, well,” Rin moved to brush some of her hair back, only to find it tangled.

“I’ll take you upstairs and brush it out,” the man murmured.

“That’s n-not necessary, Lancer-“

“Cu Chulainn.”

“Hmm?”

“That’s my name, Rin. The hero of Ulster and wild lancer, Cu Chulainn,” Cu gave a low, sweeping bow, that gaze returning as he lifted his head to meet her gaze with his own. “You can feel free to drop the lancer talk and simply use my name.”

“Isn’t that dangerous?”

A servant’s name said everything. Their strengths, weaknesses, ires; it said exactly how to get under their skin and control them. Like great Achilles and his bad heels, the man’s name could give her insight into exactly how to defeat him.

Cu Chulainn had essentially handed him his leash.

“Nah,” the man replies easily enough, “you’ve got me tamer than a lamb. All yours, in fact.”

The man moved closer, bringing her deeper into the safety of her home. He was bringing her further and further away from the door. It feels like an ocean between her and that front door now. Civilization and another living soul are so far. She’d won tonight, in her own manner. She had her own rewards for being smart.

And somehow, despite that, it felt like she was going to lose something entirely different.

“We’ll make you somethin’ warm to drink, master. Maybe somethin’ sweet.”

The lips that pressed to her cheek had her shivering, nearly dropping as her legs went weak. The kitchen stools were a saving grace as she found the man moving to the stove and pulling the kettle to the sink.

“I’ll keep ya warm,” that teasing voice promised. That smile flashing her way. “You just take a seat and enjoy a better servant’s company.”

#drabble #drabbles

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